Staring up at the ceiling he thought hard about why and how this had happened. Really there was no reason for it, totally none. Yet here he was.
Desmond blinked at the ceiling in a sort of half daze half stupor that was really the same thing trying to figure it all out.
It was really unfair to wake up in a bed that wasn’t yours, especially when you hadn’t expected to wake up here in the first place. He squeezed his eyes closed and pinched himself.
His eyes shuttered open a moment later, hoping. Same yellow ceiling. Not his.
Slowly he reached up and rubbed his face. Or he tried to. His arm was currently under arrest by… fuck he did not want to think about that. Not really.
He simply used his other hand to do so instead with a sigh. He started whee the alarm clock started going off and quickly looked over at it. The clock read nine thirty.
Next to him the body moved and he stiffened a little as they roused themselves and, leaning over him, slapped the alarm silent. Desmond just stared at them, wide eyed.
Up close they smelled like sex, expensive cologne, sweat and a night of drinking and Desmond could see the way their muscles rippled under their skin.
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