Waking in Silk
Added 2025-03-06 06:45:13 +0000 UTCEthan's eyes snapped open, his mind still foggy from sleep as he registered the unfamiliar warmth wrapped around him. His body stiffened as he realized an arm was draped over his chest, and the sensation of silk brushed against his skin. His gaze darted downward, his breath hitching—Ryan was pressed up against him, his face serene in slumber, his lips slightly parted.
Ethan’s heart pounded as he took in the details—the glossy makeup glistening under the dim light, the delicate black hairpins securing strands of midnight silk, and the sheer elegance of the pink satin nightdress that clung to Ryan’s masculine frame.
His body jerked into motion. He shot up, nearly tumbling off the bed as he scrambled to the edge, his breath coming in rapid bursts. “What the hell?!”
Ryan stirred at the noise, groggily rubbing his eyes. “Mm… what’s with the yelling?” His voice was hoarse from sleep as he blinked himself awake.
Then he noticed Ethan staring at him with wide, horrified eyes.
“What?” Ryan mumbled, his hand dragging down his face before his fingers froze. His brow furrowed, something felt… off. His skin tingled strangely against his own touch. His palm swiped over his lips, smearing something glossy. His gaze flickered down to his arm—smooth, glistening under the dim morning light.
His breath caught in his throat. Slowly, hesitantly, he pulled the covers off himself.
The pink satin shimmered.
His fingers clenched the fabric, his mind catching up to the impossibility of it. “No, no, no, no—”
He scrambled up, practically tripping over himself as he stumbled out of bed. His reflection caught his eye in the nearby mirror, and his face drained of color. Dark, thick lashes framed his wide, panicked eyes, his lips glossy and full, painted a soft pink. His midnight-black hair, though still short, was silky and perfumed, neatly pinned with delicate pink hairpins.
A strangled noise escaped his throat as he rushed toward the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
Ethan sat frozen on the bed, running a hand through his hair, trying to steady his racing thoughts.
“What the fuck is happening?”
