Nathaniel woke gently to the feel of kisses on his neck, a hand firmly, but not too roughly tugging his head aside by the hair. He reached back to grip the man's hip, needing to feel him closer. Despite the fact that they were both still fully dressed, Nathaniel groaned softly at the motion slowly working up speed, groin to ass, a good dose of early morning frottage. The man, a stranger, groaned in his ear while the bed rocked. Breathing hard, Nathaniel gripped at the man's hair and moaned, louder and louder, until it was a girly yell.
Something thudded hard against the wall behind the bed, and Nathaniel sat bolt upright, pulling at his own hair, drenched in sweat and in the clothes from last night. His bed still rocked, but he realized quickly there was no one else there, unless the thumping of the hotel neighbors' bed against his wall counted as company. He was relieved to learn the girly moans had actually come from next door and not himself, but he found it unsettling to be fully erect to the sounds of strangers getting it on.
In a hurry to shake the uncomfortable feeling, he stood up and wiped the sweat from his brow, squinting against the painful rim of sunlight that radiated from the corners of the curtains. It wasn't enough to hurt him, so long as he stayed out of the direct beams, but his eyes certainly complained.
And so did his head, and he had to wonder if it was the sunlight, the lack of sleep, or all the drinking he'd done last night that caused it.
Finally, he unbuttoned his yellow bumblebee shirt and stripped it off, dropping it carelessly onto the floor next to his suitcase. He found an Avenged Sevenfold t-shirt and some sweatpants and changed in the bathroom, hoping that his bed would be safe to return to by the time he got back. When he found that it was, in fact, still in motion, he sighed and picked up the ice bucket. He still felt sweaty, and uneasy, and he thought perhaps he could cool himself down by getting some ice—and escaping the room entirely. He just had to hope that there were no open windows.
Braving the potential sunlight, Nathaniel opened the door cautiously, hiding behind it until he could be sure no direct beams of sunlight would be stopping him. There was one window to the outdoors at the very end of the hall, but for now it had its curtains closed, and he had to have faith it would remain that way until the sun was on the other side of the building. With bare feet, he stepped out onto the short carpet of the hotel hallway, shoving down his shame at being so underdressed in public so that he could put some space between himself and his neighbors.
Bucket in tow, he made his way sleepily to the ice machine, eyes tracing the strange pattern on the carpet. Hearing his name, he looked up to find Ira, and then looked back down to see all the ice that just landed on the floor.
"Oh. Good morning," he said, not sure what else he possibly could say. Something made him put a hand on his head and slide it forward to flatten his hair. He didn't even know how it looked and he hoped he hadn't managed to make it look worse. His heartbeat sky-rocketed at the run-in. He hadn't been too drunk to remember the details of last night, but he hadn't yet reflected on the kiss he and Ira had shared. Until that moment. When he'd run back into him.
He cleared his throat while he wrestled with the urge to stoop down and pick up the ice for him. He'd wonder later if his brain was even actually working at the time.
"I, uhm. I hope you slept well." His face was turned toward Ira, but his eyes stayed fixed on the door across the hall, trying not to look at the ice on the floor. He didn't want to embarrass Ira by drawing attention to the mess he assumed Ira had just made.
