Chapter 2Weston woke an hour before dawn out of habit; however, he wasn’t in the habit of waking up in the tight ring of another man’s arms. He wasn’t in the habit of waking up sore in the strangest places, and sticky, and hard. His c**k was fully erect, waiting for attention. Waiting for Mark. And Mark was a solid wall of warm flesh behind him, his chest pressed against Weston’s back, his mouth on Weston’s neck.
“Are you awake?” Weston asked softly.
No response.
Weston turned around, and Mark stirred, but he only tightened his hold. It was still dark, the sky outside his window black with no stars and no moon. It was difficult to see Mark’s face in the dim light, but his eyes adjusted until he could pick out the familiar details. He knew Mark’s face so well. Had known it all his life,
