Sebastian didn’t get out of bed, but Rory heard the familiar wet slap of him touching himself. Rory whimpered and reached into his boxers—he couldn’t help himself—and joined in. He didn’t need the Vaseline, he got wet enough without it, and his slicked repetitive sound joined Sebastian’s.

Rory gasped when he came, and the warm lines of cum decorated his chest. He wiped it away with the sheet, then waited for his heart to stop racing.

Sebastian didn’t say night to him, and he didn’t say anything about their midnight escapade in the morning, instead he gave Rory a look. His eyes sparkled, his lips twitched with smugness, and he oozed so much confidence Rory felt aroused and ashamed at the same time.

It was only physical, a needed release, completely natural. He reasoned with himself all day long, but couldn’t reason with the fact he wanted more. He wanted to touch Sebastian, and have Sebastian touch him. His head, his heart, and his cock were all tugging him in different directions, and he was cracking under the pressure.

Chapter Eleven

“I didn’t think it was possible…”

Rory glanced up at Captain. “What?”

“You look worse than me.”

“Haven’t been sleeping well.”

Captain sat down opposite. “Even without me screaming the place down?”

“Yeah, well … looks like I’m going through a bout of insomnia.”

Rory didn’t add that it was horny induced insomnia. At any point during the night, Sebastian could toy with the Vaseline tub, and it didn’t matter if Rory was exhausted, or he was deep in the mists of sleep, he stirred, and woke up hard.

“How’s your sleep?”

Captain shrugged. “I sleep, but in the day, I don’t quite feel myself.”

“How do you feel?”

“Hazy, like I’m all soft around the edges.”

Rory frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s one or the other—I don’t take them, and my mind destroys itself, or I do take them, and I’m detached from myself anyway.”

“There’s a third option.”

“Which is?”

“Go see the psychiatrist again.”

“I can’t.”

“It was months ago, explain how you didn’t mean to get angry, but his questions felt invasive.”

“I could do that, I could say sorry, and swear that I’ll not do it again, but that would be a lie. I don’t know how I’m gonna react, I can’t promise I won’t shout, or scream, or breakdown in tears.”

“Did you feel like hurting him?”

Captain flung himself back and gawped. “No, of course not.”

“Sorry, I wondered that’s all.”

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel good making him back off, making him go all wide-eyed and scared. It felt good in that moment for punishing him for prying, but now…”