Doug

Oh. My. God. Why am I such an arse?

I feel like shit. My head is going to explode, I swear. I had too much to drink last night but it's not just that fact that's making me feel like complete crap. I slapped Mason across the face. I mean, I fucking threw myself at him and he was a complete gentleman. He kept his promise to me and didn't break the trust I put in him and I slapped him for it.

We still shared the bed last night. I suspect this was only because it was too late for him to change the arrangements. He assured me he didn't want to be anywhere else but I can't see how that could possibly be the case after the way I behaved.

I'm fully expecting to wake up this morning alone, him having risen early to avoid any awkwardness or confrontations about my diabolical behaviour.

I guess we'll have that conversation at another date, when it isn't Thanksgiving and we aren't surrounded by his entire family. Break ups are bad enough without doing it in front of an audience.

So it's just a matter of time then.

I stretch out my legs in the bed and instantly freeze as my foot encounters a leg - a warm, slightly hairy leg, that's wearing pyjama bottoms but the hem has ridden up to expose some ankle and calf.

So Mason hasn't left, in fact he's still asleep. I turn to face into the centre of the bed and open one eye to get his exact positioning. Somehow I manage to keep my foot in contact with his leg. It's nice and warm, sue me,

"Are you playing footsy with me, Dougie?" Mason's voice is croaky with sleep, and he doesn't even open his eyes, but I can see that annoyingly adorable smirk on his lips,

"No!" I try not to sound snippy. I'm not a morning person, and having a hangover and all this anxiety about what happens next isn't going to help one little bit. He, on the other hand, always seems to be trying to outshine the sun when he wakes up in the morning. He frequently does shine brighter than the stars.

I immediately cease exploring his leg with my foot, surprised that I even had the gall to do it in the first place, except, it felt nice: the sensation of his warm, slightly rough leg hair against the soul of my foot. It had sent shivers along my spine and tingles up my leg to my…..hmmmm!

This won't do. I can't deny the fact that his touch turns me on, though. I feel it not only where he touches me but also throughout my entire body with heat pooling around my groin that just needs to sort itself out because I can't get a damn hard on while I'm in bed with a man who I'm not even sure wants to be with me anymore.

I said I wasn't ready then I jumped him. I accused him of sending me mixed messages when it's me that's the absolute king of messed up.

Isn't this my body telling me that I'm ready though? What exactly is it that's holding me back? He says he's attracted to me. He's already given me enough signs that he wants me he could almost be a damn Freeway exit. He's still here when he could have slept somewhere else last night, if he'd really wanted to. I'm attracted to him, always was, even before he decided to make me some sort of project.

Is that what's holding me back though? The fact that I feel this is what I am to him. I want him, but if I give myself, he won't have anything else to prove and he'll get bored and move on to his next, more interesting mission.

I study his face as he lies on his pillow. His eyes are closed, and even though I know he's awake, since he just spoke, he looks peaceful and relaxed. His cheeks are flushed with sleep and his hair is all over the place, although that's nothing new. It could be mid afternoon he'd still have bed hair. It's not that it's messy, it's just….hnnngh! Alright then, I admit it, it's damn sexy. People could spend an entire day getting their hair to look as good as his before he's even lifted his head off the pillow.

"I can hear you thinking." The smirk is back on his lips and I have the sudden urge to stick my tongue into those damn dimples. I can't be so free with his body though, he isn't mine, never will be.

"So you're psychic now, as well as an annoying pain in the arse?" I huff. He chuckles and snuggles down into his pillow,

"Go back to sleep, Doug, it's Thanksgiving and far too early to be so awake and using our brains." He groans.

I shuffle around until I have my back to him, "Fine!" I petulantly pull the duvet over my shoulders, feeling a juvenile sense of satisfaction as he huffs in annoyance because I've stolen his warmth.

I feel the bed move. Is he getting up? I've pushed him away dammit. No, wait, he's shuffling closer. Suddenly his warm, firm body folds drowsily around mine from behind. He moulds around me like he was made to fit there and his face is buried in the back of my neck,

"Awww, don't be like that Dougie." His sleepy voice is barely a whisper and his breath is hot on my skin.

The sensation makes me shiver, makes me shuffle a little into his hold; makes me want more than I should.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Doug." He whispers almost tenderly, before pulling the duvet over us both and snuggling down, his arm sliding across my body, his hand falling palm to palm over mine on the pillow in front of my face.

Without a thought I lace my fingers with his. I hear his breath hitch ever so slightly before his fingers fold around mine. Did he whisper my name as well? It was barely audible, but I'm sure he did, the great softy.

He shifts his position slightly and I freeze again, holding my breath in case he notices I am having trouble keeping my breathing even. His hips pushed against my backside and, oh my god, he's hard.

Morning wood; happens to us all I guess, but does he have to be shoving it in my arse? That was a bloody bad choice of words, since now I can't get the image out of my head, and now I'm getting bloody hard.

Gingerly I try to shift position so his cock isn't poking me in the back like a fucking cattle prod. Not that I don't think it's nice, on the contrary, but he is half asleep so probably doesn't know what he's doing. I don't want to shift so much that I'll wake him enough to realise his position isn't exactly chaste.

"Jesus, Doug, go back to sleep already." His arm wraps tighter around me, his fingers lace more firmly with mine, "What's got you so tense?"

"Well, let's see now…" I take a moment for my sarcasm to sink in because this tone doesn't always work first time on him, "Maybe it's the fact that we're in a fucking enormous super king size bed but you insist on crowding me almost to the edge on one side, or maybe it's the fact that you have this enormous rod pokin' me up the arse that I can't seem to ignore."

Mason chuckles, he actually chuckles, and it's low and growly and the noise goes straight through me, sending signals to every part of my body that wasn't already aroused by his closeness and his morning wood. Deliberately he moves his hips and I feel his cock press harder against my buttocks. I fight back a moan,

"Jesus, Mason."

"What's the matter Dougie?" his tone I still low and gravelly, and it's not just sleep that's making him sound that way, "Don't ya like to feel what you do to me?"

"What I do to you?" I snort, "How can you even bear to touch me after last night?"

"Last night is over and done with, Doug." He dismisses my words casually, "All forgotten. Today is another day and all that stuff."

I chuckle then gasp as he moves his hips again,

"Mason, man."

"What?" his tone is all innocence now,

"You know damn well what." He's really pushing his luck, and the limits, and his cock into my buttocks. Bloody hell!

"Dougie!" he breathes into the back of my neck and that's it for me. I can't help the shiver, or the moan that escapes from my lips before I can stop it.

"You need to stop that before…." I gasp again as he stops me with another thrust,

"Before what, Doug?" his breath is hot and delicious and I grit my teeth as I suck in a gasp,

"Before I can't stop myself." I whisper in apology.

Instead of stopping him it just eggs him on. He doesn't do anything more than move his hips though, and nice as it is to feel his arousal this way, I want more, am I brave enough to take this further?

"What are you waiting for, Doug?" Mason's whisper sends shivers across my skin, but his hands stay where they are. I need him to touch me, because I now have a raging hard on and I don't bloody care what he thinks of me afterwards I need his hands on me. I need my hands on him.

I turn, trying not to make any embarrassing noises, except I think I might have whimpered slightly as I take his hand and pull it between us, pushing his palm against the heat between my legs whilst my free hand presses against that hard rod that's been telling me to get on with it for the last five minutes.

At the same time I cover his mouth with mine and he doesn't pull away, he doesn't stiffen in shock at my brazenness, he just melts with the most delicious moan I've ever heard as he pushes into my hand.

Without breaking contact with his lips I shuffle out of my pants and he does the same. I don't get out of them completely but I don't care I just needed them out of the way. Mason's tongue brushes against mine and I moan again, deepening the kiss as my hand finds the warm, silky skin of his now exposed cock,

"Oh God, Doug!" he breaks the kiss and tips his head into my shoulder with a shudder and a gasp as I stroke him slowly, savouring the feel of him beneath my fingers.

His reaction enthrals me. How can it feel that good? He's panting, shaky breaths across my neck and shoulder. His hand fumbles to find me, does eventually and suddenly I'm in the same boat,

"Holy shit!" I think my heart beat just quadrupled as his fingers close around me,

"Doug you feel so good." He takes a deep breath against the skin of my neck, "You smell so good. Is this okay?"

Even now he's unsure of what I want because I'm such an arse I have him confused as hell. I am such a bastard,

"Yes, it's okay. I'm sorry about everything that happened last night. We could have been doing this then." I murmur, not really thinking clearly, but needing to say something back,

"You were drunk last night." He explains, "I didn't want you to hate me."

"I could never hate you, Mason." I whisper across his ear lobe and he shudders, lifting his head to capture my lips again with a moan.

Our hands make short work of each others climax. Before I know it Mason is falling apart as I stroke him. I feel my own orgasm building, and I just can't stop it, despite the fact that I know he's going to get up and leave as soon as it's over, because that's just what every other man has done.

He throws back his head, gripping my shoulder convulsively as he spills over my hand, thrusting into my palm, gasping and shuddering as if it is the most intense sensation he's ever felt. His expression of complete and utter abandon, and his absolute submission to me, sends me over the edge, crying out in surprise at the force with which it hits me.

I see stars. I mean, I've read plenty of stuff: romantic, erotic crap, where the characters are described as "seeing stars" and having "out of body experiences", but I never really believed it, and not from just a quick hand job to relieve some morning tension.

I just stare at him, breathless and spent, as he seems to come back into himself after a similar experience. His eyes are wide and his lips are swollen from kissing. He looks just radiant, and content. How can that have been because of me? I'm crap at this kind of thing.

Suddenly he's kissing me, pulling me close and covering my face with breathless, warm, wet caresses. He's whispering my name over and over,

"Dougie, Doug, Scotty Dog."

How many bloody nick names does he have for me for Christ's sake? I want to laugh. I do!

"Aye alrigh'." I chuckle helplessly, "Calm doon, will ye?"

"Oh god, Doug." He throws his head back in absolute ecstasy, "Talk Scottish to me, you'll have me going all over again."

I laugh even harder now. He's just a bloody scream this man. It's bloody hilarious that he finds me half as attractive as he does. I have never met anyone like him.

It's all going to change now though. Give it a few more minutes and he'll be gone, in the shower, cleaning himself up and not wanting to meet my eye.

He turns from me and I think this is it, but he doesn't get out of bed, he just reaches across his nightstand for some tissues, which he uses to clean himself off, and then he starts on me. I stare at him in stunned silence while he wipes his cum from my fingers and wrist.

Then he pulls me to him, turning me so I have my back to him again, spooning his body around mine like a cocoon, the way we'd lain on my sofa the day before. I hold my breath waiting for him to move away after a token hug but I think I might turn blue from lack of oxygen, because he isn't moving.

"Thank you, Dougie." He whispers and his breath makes me shiver again, causing me to begin to react again. That never happened to me before,

"What are you thanking me for?" I squeak,

"For this." He sounds surprised, "For what we just did. It was amazing." I feel him smile into my neck and I snort,

"You sure you were actually in the same bed as me?" I ask him, "It can't have been that incredible, I mean, it was me, not some blond hunk from the beach, or some tattooed beefcake. It was just a short, grumpy red head with a bad temper and a foul mouth."

Mason clicks his tongue and snuggles closer, if that were even possible. His now flaccid cock is pushing against my buttocks and it feels warm and soft and I like the sensation very much. It's distracting me from what he's trying to say…

"...bone a tattooed beefcake, I would go out and find one Dougie. I don't want to though, because I got everything I want right here."

"Bollocks!" I huff, "How can I be everything you want?" How can I be anything anyone wants?

"You just are Doug, why can't you accept that?" he sounds slightly annoyed now and I don't want to get into a fight about this so I back down; not believing him, but knowing I won't win this argument. He is looking at me through rose tinted glasses, I'm certain of it now. He'll come to his senses soon enough.

There are a few moments of silence where I'm wondering what actually happens next. This is the most time I've spent with someone, post sex, and that is rather a sad thought really, but also leaves me a little lacking in experience. I'm just about to speak when he answers my question for me,

"It's too early to get up." He murmurs, "Let's just snuggle for a while longer."

"God, Mason, are you for real?" I snort, "Snuggle! Really?"

"Yeah!" he says it in a way that doesn't invite protest so I settle. Snuggle it is then.

He gives a soft snort and I frown,

"What?"

"I just had hand sex with Douglas McKenzie." He sounds delighted,

"What?" I squeak, "What is so exciting about that?" I mean, I am feeling that way myself, about him, but come on, I'm just not that good,

"Of course it's exciting, Dougie." He gasps indignantly, "It's our first time, and it was just amazing, and I want to shout it from the roof tops because I feel fantastic."

"Don't you bloody dare." I snort. He's being ridiculous. Is he still drunk from yesterday? He didn't seem to have had that many beers, "You make too much of it all in public anyway." I huff, "Shouting about our sex life is not gonnae happen."

"The fact that we have a sex life to shout about now is amazing in itself, Doug, but I'll keep it between us, I promise."

I can feel him pouting as he makes a little huffy sound. God he's annoying, and adorable at the same time.

"Can I still hold your hand in public?" he asks me, the pout still firmly in place,

"Bloody hell, yes." I hiss,

"Can I ruffle your hair?"

"If you feel the need to."

"How about calling you Scotty Dog?"

"Mason, fuck off. If you're tired, go to fucking sleep, but stop fucking annoying me with stupid fucking nick names."

"I don't think you're a morning person, are you?" he doesn't sound annoyed, he sounds amused. Is there no stopping this man?

"Have ye just discovered that, Einstein?"

He clicks his tongue but doesn't make any kind of move to leave,

"You know all those swear words just wash over my head don't you?" he whispers softly into my hair, "Because I know you don't really mean it, you're just covering up your true feelings."

"And what exactly are my true feelings, Mason, if you're so damn sure of yourself?" we are getting into dangerous territory now,

"I don't know your exact feelings, Dougie, but you did just admit that you could never hate me." I think I remember saying that. That's a bit embarrassing, "That's good enough for me right now."

God, how can that be good enough for him? How can I be good enough for him? I'm always convinced he's looking at a different person when he says all these nice things about me. Why can't I just accept what he says at face value? Except no one has ever said the things he's said to me. Just what is happening here?

I can't ask him anything though because I realise he's fallen asleep. His breathing has evened out and his body feels suddenly more relaxed and warm against my back. Well I guess, for now, we're stayin' where we are. It's like we're in some sort of bubble and it will burst eventually because it feels that fragile. Am I over thinking it all? Should I just enjoy it while it lasts?

"I'm sorry I swore at you Mason. It's just all a bit overwhelmin' that's all." I know he can't hear me, he's asleep, "Just kick my arse if I get snippy with you again, yeah?"

"Don't worry, Doug, I'll take great pleasure in doing just that."

Bloody hell. I thought he was asleep. He tightens his hold on me and chuckles. Bloody annoyin' arse,

"Happy Thanksgiving, Dougie." He murmurs before he does actually start snoring.

Well it happened, and the world hasn't imploded. He's still here, and holding onto me as if he's worried I'll leave instead of the other way around. I have a million questions in my head but I think they can wait because I'm tired, and comfortable and…safe.

---

A/N Not as long as usual, but thought I'd been away too long and had to get something posted before the summer hols.

This is the first of two chapters from Doug's point of view, but it was going to be phenomenally long so I cut it into two parts. Next part will be posted after my holidays (vacation, jollies, or whatever you call it where you come from).

Thanks for reading everyone, and also thanks to the several guest reviews I have had over the last few weeks. Sign in and I'll be able to reply, although I doubt the last one wanted a reply since they simply wanted to angrily point out a perceived flaw in chapter one: If you don't like what I write, then feel free not to read. However, do not make the mistake that because I have written a character that is a little foul mouthed that I accept that same foul language in a review when it is directed at me. I took the liberty to block your review, and will do so with anyone who treats me with the same contempt. I do not appreciate being sworn at.

The reviewers on this site have always been extremely supportive and I have grown in confidence because of your support. I have tried to be as supportive in return when I have reviewed work here. People post work on this site in an attempt to break into fiction writing and all of the works of art available here are available for free.

Sharing your work is like bearing your soul for all to see, it is nerve wracking and nailbitingly difficult to do. Anyone who trolls someone for being brave enough to share something that they have spent many hours preparing deserves nothing but contempt. If you have constructive criticism, fair enough, and it is welcome, how will we grow as writers without it? But to call someone a "fuckwit" for something they perceive as wrong (when it wasn't, since Doug is from Scotland and would refer to himself this way in a different country, do your research) is really not acceptable. Unfortunately, you signed in as a guest, so therefore cannot be blocked or reported for your abuse. If you are brave enough to confront me as a signed in member then I would gladly discuss with you the differences between American English and British English, and the differences in the way that Americans and British people see themselves and no, I will not rewrite this story just because you say so. Read the other reviews to see why.

For all of the others who have reviewed: I love you all, and will continue to give you Doug and Mason's story until it comes to a conclusion.

DS

PS: if any of you are interested, I have a story published now. It is available free on the Goodreads website. It's called "See You Smile" and you can find it and me under the same pen name "Dawn Sister" (What? did you think that was my real name?)

DS