Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 162: Good morning wood...

Chapter 162: Good morning wood...

Common sense told Sky to wake him up. It was 5:30 a.m., after all, and they needed to leave before the others woke up. But he didn’t make any effort to wake Chris.

They had slept late. Or rather, only Chris had slept. Sky, on the other hand, hadn’t gotten a wink of rest.

How could he?

Chris was practically embracing him in his sleep, his face so close that every breath he exhaled ghosted over Sky’s skin. His lips—those lips—were right there, taunting him. Reminding him of how they had felt against his those times.

Six times.

Yes, six times.

The first was that night in their room—the first time they saw a movie together. He had woken up to find them tangled together, too confused to process why they were in that position. At some point, Chris had moved, and their lips brushed. He had panicked that night. He had taken double the dosage of his daily stability pill after he left the dorm.

The second was at the hotel when Chris had mumbled in his sleep, thinking it was a dream. He had said Rain’s name that time.

The third—Sky clenched his jaw—was when he had completely lost it, flipped Chris over, and kissed him. He still stupidly dreamt of that night.

The fourth had been after that mess with Collins, when everything had boiled over.

The fifth was at Sinclair’s party, just two days ago.

And the sixth... just yesterday.

Was he counting? No.

...Maybe.

But the memories were etched into his brain, refusing to fade. Just like Chris’s words.

He would surrender.

He hadn’t gotten over those words.

Could he do that?

Would he really do that?

Surrender completely to Chris without caring for anything else?

He doubted.

Sky exhaled shakily and reached out, slow and careful, brushing strands of hair from Chris’s face. He knew he was being weird—creepy, even. Staring at a sleeping Chris, unmoving, completely entranced. But he couldn’t look away.

And he didn’t want to wake him up.

For one, Chris needed more sleep. He looked so peaceful like this, and Sky would feel guilty disturbing him. But for another...

He was perfect like this.

Not with anyone else. Not looking at anyone else. There was no stupid Clair here.

Sky’s fingers curled into the blanket.

He wished...

He shook his head, forcing the thought away.

"It’s not only illegal to lock him up and keep him for yourself, but it’s also psychopathic," a voice in his head—one that sounded far too much like Mei’s—scoffed. It also sounded like his godmothers voice as well as every rational person around him.

Because he was very irrational. Only when it came to Chris, of course.

He sighed.

And that was when Chris’s eyes fluttered open.

Sky was too slow to react.

Chris blinked sleepily, his pupils dilated with drowsiness, before he registered Sky watching him.

"Oh—!" Chris startled slightly, pulling back just a little.

Sky tensed.

Chris blinked at him a few times, still hazy with sleep. Then, as if realizing their positions, he raised a brow.

"...Were you watching me sleep?"

Sky’s ears burned. "No."

Chris squinted. "You were."

Sky scoffed, rolling onto his back. "Don’t flatter yourself. Do you think you’re Sleeping Beauty?"

Chris chuckled, his voice rough with sleep. He stretched, his arm brushing against Sky’s, a deliberate, lingering contact that sent a jolt through Sky. He fought the urge to flinch, or worse, lean into it.

"Mm. You should’ve woken me up," Chris mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"You needed sleep."

"And you didn’t?"

Sky remained silent, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Chris propped himself up on one elbow, mirroring their position from the night before, his eyes never leaving Sky’s. "So? What were you thinking about? You weren’t thinking about doing some naughty naughty while I was asleep, right?" He lifted the covers slightly, drawing Sky’s attention to the very obvious morning wood pressing against the fabric of his pants.

Sky’s eyes followed the movement, his brain short-circuiting. The implications of Chris’s words, combined with the visual evidence, hit him like a physical blow. "WHAT THE—"

Chris threw himself over Sky, his hand clamping over Sky’s mouth, cutting him off mid-exclamation.

He leaned closer, "Don’t wake the others," he whispered, his voice a low rumble that vibrated against Sky’s skin.

Sky stiffened.

Their position...

Chris was on top of him.

His hand also over his mouth.

Chris very obvious morning wood now shamelessly pressing into him.

It was... scandalous.

Chris realized a second too late.

His entire body tensed as his brain caught up with the situation—the way he was sprawled over Sky, their legs tangled, his hand firm over Sky’s mouth, and worst of all—

Oh.

Oh.

His eyes flicked down, and yep. Still there.

Chris swallowed thickly.

Sky was not breathing.

Okay, maybe he was, but it was shallow and stiff, like he was trying really hard not to. His eyes were blown wide, staring straight into Chris’s, and something about the intensity in them sent a sharp jolt down Chris’s spine.

Oh, shit.

This was... bad.

Very, very bad.

Chris willed his body to move, to roll away, to do literally anything that would not make this situation worse, but his limbs felt frozen.

His fingers twitched, still covering Sky’s lips, and that was when it hit him—

Sky wasn’t pushing him off.

He never pushed him off.

Chris inhaled sharply, his pulse hammering in his ears. Sky’s lips, soft and warm beneath his palm, parted slightly—

Fucking hell.

Chris’s gaze, now serious and intense, held Sky captive. Slowly, he removed his hand, but his index finger lingered, tracing the curve of Sky’s lower lip, a deliberate echo of their encounter from that fateful night – the night everything had shifted between them.

Sky was beautiful, and even more so beneath him.

Chris felt a thrill at the sight of Sky’s wide, panicked eyes, the knowledge that he was the one who elicited this reaction. So many people craved Sky’s attention, his touch, his body. They probably wanted Sky above them.

Yet, right now, Sky was pinned beneath him, his heart now hammering against his ribs.

But then... there was something Chris was curious about. So he decided to ask.