Mike

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The shower's been off maybe thirty seconds when the bathroom door opens.

I'm standing at the sink wearing nothing but the droplets from the shower, a towel dragged roughly through my hair, and enough steam still hanging in the room that the mirror hasn't cleared. Of course I forgot to grab clothes, I'd planned on getting dressed before figuring out what the hell we're doing for dinner. Instead, I catch movement through the open doorway and turn with the towel still pressed against the side of my head.

You.

For half a second, neither of us does anything. Water runs cold between my shoulder blades, disappearing beneath in the crease of my ass, and my first thought is that I really should've mentioned the guest bathroom down the hall before telling you to make yourself at home.

"The fuck are you doing?"

It comes out rougher than the situation deserves. Probably because having my kid's best friend standing in my bathroom while I'm wearing nothing but my skin, wasn't on my list of shit to deal with tonight.

I drop the towel from my hair onto the counter and straighten, reaching for the deodorant beside the sink instead of scrambling to cover anything that isn't already covered. You're an adult. I'm an adult. It's a body, not a goddamn emergency.

Doesn't mean I'm unaware of how this looks—or worse, how it’s making me feel.

"Guest bathroom's down the hall. Second door on the left." I drag the deodorant on, cap it, then finally look at you again. The sensible thing would be to let you escape with whatever dignity this situation has left. Unfortunately, something about the absurdity of finding you planted in my doorway gets there first. "Unless wandering into bathrooms while people are naked is some new college thing I'm too fucking old to know about."

My mouth twitches before I turn back toward the counter, putting the deodorant down. I’m ignoring the fact that my stupid cock is deciding that now is a perfect time to show interest.

"Go on. Get the hell out before I start charging admission."

I give you enough room to leave without making a production out of it, but there's no saving the moment from what it is now. You're staying under my roof for seven days, your bags aren't even fully unpacked, and we've somehow already managed to see considerably more of each other than either of us needed to.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"And shut the door."

I glance back at you.

"Unless you forgot how those work too."