Denying Dylan | ✔️

(2) "As long as they're clean!"

This morning when my eyes flitter open, I feel different, I feel content, relaxed, well rested. These aren't common morning emotions that I'm accustomed too. Most mornings I awake with a sore head, a dry mouth, an instant dread in the pit of my stomach because I know that I'll be faced with the fact that I have no direction for my life, my father thinks I'm a disappointment and I will go another day without understanding what I want.

But none of that looms over my head this morning as I wake up feeling completely at peace. Of course it's Christmas morning, but usually even that fact wouldn't have me feeling so euphoric.

My body seems to wake up a little slower than my eyes and I register the strong hands that are wrapped around my waist, the firm chest that's flush against my back, the warm breath that fans my hair with each soft snore.

Dylan stayed all night. He stayed because he knew I needed him and the fact that he'd actually done that for me, not that I'd ever doubt he would if I asked him, but it's still a big deal and I smile widely, knowing that I've got something with this boy that no one else will ever have.

I'm suddenly aware of a feeling that is very, very sobering. As I arch my back a little with a stretch and a yawn, an extremely firm bulge presses into my ass. I gasp and thrust my hips forward as gently as I can so that I don't startle him awake.

The fact that I'd just felt Dylan's morning glory pressed up against my back side should be horrifying. I should be utterly repulsed and slightly scarred. I should be grossed out and gagging with disgust. This is my best friend of ten years, shouldn't I be absolutely up in arms right now?!

So the fact that I'm not, the fact that my mind immediately turned to something more of a dirty thought than a horrified meltdown has me more confused and alarmed than I've ever been.. ever!

"Stop it!" I hiss to myself, feeling a little aroused as Dylan starts shuffling in his sleep, his little, or apparently not so little, junior grinding firmly against my butt.

In our entire ten years of multiple sleepovers and mornings together, this had never happened. Not once. I don't know why it's happening now, as if this holiday isn't torture enough already, now I'm having dirty thoughts about my best friend, not to mention the fact that he's engaged!

I close my eyes tightly, clenching my teeth together as I decide that this has to end right now. I quickly untangle myself from his arms and worm over to the edge of the bed, sitting up just as he starts to stir behind me.

"Hey," his groggy husky voice sounds adorable and I twist my neck slightly to look over my shoulder, watching as he rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Merry Christmas!"

"M-merry Christmas," I stutter as he sits up. Does he always look this cute?

Fuck. What the fuck.

"Uh, Charlie is probably gonna be pissed huh?" I laugh lightly, standing up and stretching my legs. I'd slept in my jeans last night and I can feel the imprints of the harsh fabric on my hips.

"You needed me," Dylan shrugs, throwing the covers back and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed before he stands up, mirroring my earlier stretch. "I'm just gonna use the bathroom quick."

He sluggishly saunters over to the ensuite and shuts the door behind him. I use this time to give myself an aggressive pep talk. I jog around to the other side of the bed and stand in front of the full length mirror, initially getting a fright from my disheveled state but then promptly laying a few slaps across my own face. "Stop thinking about your best friend like that you horny little thot. Get it together!"