Re-Caffeinated Soul

Again the continuation and again, it’s just a writing exercise (which explains the weird idea) and some grammatical errors may exist.  No Author’s Notes at the end of this story (not that anyone would care to read it anyway) as the continuation speaks for itself.  To read the first bits of madness, here’s Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

Again, the usual disclaimer: The following literary blurb is purely fictional (Would we call this fan fic if it wasn’t?).  The names of the main characters happen to have real life counterparts in the form of very very smexy men.  Any incident, character or anything that happened in the real life are purely coincidental.

The clock struck at 7:50 in the morning.

Sam and Paul got out of the room and discussing a few things. They momentarily stopped talking when they found Carlos in the living room, face buried to his hands.

“You okay, man?” Paul asked.

Carlos nodded and then shook his hand. Then he lifted his face and said: “Can anyone of you guys check out Daniel at the kitchen?”

Sam volunteered and went to the kitchen doorway and had a quick glance of Daniel by the cook stove. Frying what seemed to be some bacon.

“Uh yeah, he’s here,” Sam said and turned to Carlos and Paul’s direction again.

“And?”

“Well he’s—HOLY SHIT!”

Standing by the kitchen stove and cooking while whistling a happy tune, is Daniel, stark naked wearing only an apron and fluffy socks.

“Uh…D-Dan?”

“Oh hi man,” Daniel turned to smile at him, “I’m almost done cooking.”

Are you feeling a bit uh…?” Sam started, thinking whether to laugh or scream.

“Man, I bet this summer would be quite harsh. I feel very warm today.”

Paul also took a peek and his eyes also widened when he saw Daniel. He went back to the living room and sat opposite Carlos.

“What did you do?” he asked Carlos.

“The hell do I know!” Carlos whimpered, “I just woke up and saw him walking around the house wearing…wearing….”

“Basically butt naked?” Paul offered.

“Oh shut up, Paul!” Carlos buried his face to his hands again as if trying to shake off the memory from his mind.

“He’s got nice butt though,” Paul gloated.

“Aaargh, I hate my photographic memory!”