Chrysalis Part 2-Chapter 27
This story is about a young man's quest to fix a major birth defect--he was born without a penis. On his quest he meets challenges, his soul mate and many other soon to be friends.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any real person is coincidental.
The story depicts procedures and practices common for gender reassignment; however, this story does not claim to be a medical treatise, and information is primarily for the purpose of the story and not medical advice. This story is written for adults with adult themes. If you are underage or live in a location where references to gay relationships or transgender people is forbidden, please log out of the story or move.
This work is copyrighted by Boethiuscell@gmail.com © 2023
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Chapter 27--St. Croix
A shuttle was waiting to take them to The Waves hotel. The night hid most of the island from view as he traveled to the hotel, which was nondescript from the front. Chris quietly tried to sneak into the room he was sharing with Boyd. He was not sure about the sharing. With Tom, who knew the whole Chris, it was easy, but Boyd was an unknown young Hispanic male. It all might prove awkward at best and contentious at its worst.
Boyd was awake and playing on his phone. He looked up. "Hey Chris, you finally made it in." Then back to his phone. "Shit lost." He put the phone on a night stand. "Want something to drink? I grabbed some sodas earlier and there's ice in the bucket." Chris thanked him and poured a soda, ginger ale. "Guess we now working for the same company; I heard about the merger." Chris acknowledged that. "They any good?"
Chris expected that question because it was one Cynthia asked him. "I really like them. I mean they hired me with no experience, sent me to New York to work at another company and not once have they been demanding, demeaning, or callous."
"Yeh, well you are good at the job, Chris."
"And you are not?" Boyd frowned at first wondering if this was a put down, but then decided it was an honest question. Boyd knew he was good. "If you are good, they let you alone. They truly want each person to succeed and do well. If we, the talent, are happy, our work will show it and the company, which you will be a shareholder, will prosper." Boyd physically relaxed. "That is not to say that they aren't demanding." Chris took another drink of soda. "It has been a long day; I need to hit the sheets. Cynthia says we're to be called at 8."
Chris went into the bathroom with his toiletry bag and loose pajamas. Undressed with his prosthetic in hand, he saw a problem, what to do with the prosthetic. He usually washed it and let it air dry in the bathroom. Would it freak Boyd out? Would he run screaming from the room? Would he become physically abusive? Chris washed it well dried it the best he could and jammed it into the toiletry bag; that now threatened to explode.
Once in bed, Chris pulled the covers up to his neck. Boyd looked at him curious, then stripped, ran to the bathroom bare assed; he returned to lie exposed on the bed. He glanced over at Chris, huffed, and turned out the lights. "Night Chris, I like having you for a roommate." Lights went out.
"This is your wakeup call" soothed a lightly accent voice through the phone. Chris moaned a "no" while Boyd echoed a "fuck off". Boyd pulled back the drapes. "Wow, what a view." He opened the patio door and stepped out, in all God's glory, onto a balcony overlooking the Caribbean. Chris could hear the gentle suctioning of the waves on the shore. And there was Boyd backlit by the sun. Boyd was short, maybe 5' 6', but he was compact and muscled. Boyd turned enough that an edge of light limed his body, including his penis, which was a small mound. "Chris you got to see this. I've never seen anything so beautiful." Chris joined Boyd on the balcony; Boyd pulled Chris beside him holding firmly around the waist. There was nothing erotic or suggestive about Boyd's action. Chris leaned into Boyd, Boyd's head barely reaching Chris's shoulder. The phone jarred them, Cynthia's voice. "Fifteen minutes to meet at the van in front." Chris shoved Boyd into the shower first.
Five minutes later Boyd came out in a fuchsia tank top and yellow denim shorts, just a little too short. ""Looking hot," Chris said as he rushed into the bathroom.
"Looking hot," was Boyd's response as Chris came out in a yellow tank under a blue flowered Hawaiian shirt and tan cargo shorts. Within the fifteen minutes time limit they were outside the van, the first ones there. They looked at each other and laughed. "The fifteen minutes must be queen time," snorted Boyd.
Cynthia soon joined them, sitting on the planters in the front of the hotel. "See someone knows punctual," she said to Chris and Boyd. She looked at the two smugly. She never expected them to be ready in fifteen: ready and cute as buttons. They made a nice-looking couple, and from gauging Boyd, he would like that too. Tom may have competition; would do him good. "So how was your room?" Conversation drifted to the room and the view and the comfortable beds. Boyd asked about breakfast. Cynthia assured him that they would be fed. Arthur and Katil found them followed closely by Sledge.
Dorn popped out of the van where he was sorting equipment. "In now everyone, light is wasting." Dorn said as he opened doors. Chris started when he saw Sledge glide into the driver's seat. She looked like a fifty's mom taking her kids to baseball. "First stop is Toast Diner for breakfast." She looked back through the rearview mirror at Boyd, who had yelled approval. "What?" he whined. "I'm a growing boy."
The place was small and comfortable, very laid-back like the island. The food was filling and far better than Chris thought it would be. The menu was almost America, eggs, toast, hash browns but with exotic names like Crucian Breakfast with salted fish or Venezuelan Breakfast, which was a steak and eggs and coconut black bean. Dorn had the Venezuelan Breakfast; it was a massive portion, which Dorn totally devoured. Chris was torn between the Chopped Breakfast Salad with its bacon, sausage and eggs or the Rum Cake French Toast; he took the French toast. "Potty break now, not much opportunity later." Dorn's voice carried in that small place.
Once in the van, Sledge announced their destination as Annaly Bay and the tidal pools. The van passed the Renaissance St. Croix Hotel and entered lush rainforest. Chris gawked at the vegetation. Soon the van took a side road that dead ended on a rocky bluff overlooking the beach and ocean. Everyone piled out of the van, and stopped cold. The way to the beach was steep and rocky. "This is a pristine location." Dorn said. "I few challenges are worth the shots."
Arthur groaned, "And we are the porters?"
"Earn your keep." Dorn snarked back with a grin. "A local said that we should find a path through the forest and then one to the beach." After 20 minutes, he yelled that he found a path--a thin narrow path. Sledge parceled out to the group backpacks with camera and clothing. "Romancing the Stone," Chris muttered to Boyd. "More like Skull Island." Boyd replied.
Once on the beach after a harrowing descent over rocks, it took Dorn only about twenty minutes to select locations and Sledge to set up two cameras plus the two around her neck. The boys applied sunscreen then changed into board shorts or trunks, tanks and a gauzy shirt. Chris assiduously kept his back to the group as he changed. Pictures were taken against the rocks with tanks and swim trunks, and finally in just swim trunks. Action shots running in the surf. And then among the trees. Shots of singles, pairs, triples , groups. Combinations always changing. Noon came and went. Cynthia dispensed sun screen, water and roti. "What is this?" Chris asked as Cynthia handed him a roti. "It's a tradition dish here, like a burrito. Either curried chicken or curried goat. I recommend the goat." Chris opted for the goat and was not sorry.
Sledge was urging the guys along because they had two more changes: swimwear square-cut or jammer, and briefs or bikinis. While the board shorts were loose and free, the square-cut and jammers clunk like wet plastic wrap. No bulge was hidden, rather they were emphasized, and butts were lifted and separated into two volleyballs. Even Arthur's meager rump was rounded and full. But Boyd's derriere was two choirs singing Palestrina. With the trunks, the guys could play in the water. It was fun watching Arthur pick up Katil and effortlessly toss him into the waves. Sledge was busy running along the beach and into the water snapping her camera furiously.
It was after 4:00 and Cynthia distributed fruit cups of banana, coconut, mango, papaya and carambola with the assurance that supper was coming later. The last section was the bikini or thong. Chris had two changes of suits. A flaming red Speedo style with fireworks worked into the fabric, the fireworks glowed in colors when wet. The second was cobalt blue pleated fabric that hung like a tied back swag curtain front and back from a thick pale blue elastic band. Chris was not particularly happy with this because it barely covered his prosthetic. It was like wearing a diaper with none of the leak guard. It left most of his thighs bare. "Hot stuff Chris. If I weren't straight." Katil fanned his face with his hand, Boyd snickered. By 6:30 they were done and exhausted; slowly they climbed the cliff back to the van to head toward the hotel.
Back at the hotel, everyone showered and refreshed before gathering for supper at Off the Wall. Chris had a beer, it was that kind of place: relaxed and informal with a nice mix of tourists and locals. The food was just pizzas and burgers, but right on the water with the last glow of the sun, it was the perfect end of the day.
"Nice, isn't?" Boyd pointed with his bottle toward the water. "One of the best perks of our job." Boyd yawned. "I'm tired but not. Can't wait to get back, have a tropical drink and watch the water." He patted Chris's hand, Chris flinched slightly. "Burger must be good." Boyd comments as he watched the last morsel of bun disappear behind Chris's lips.
Chris whipped a trickle of juice escaping down his chin. "The best burgers I've ever had." Chris grabbed his last fry and devoured it whole like a frog on a fly. Chris sat back, sated, to see what the rest of the group was doing. Cynthia, Dorn and Sledge were reviewing today's work and planning tomorrows. Arthur and Katil were in a heated discussion over soccer. And then there was Boyd. Chris was not sure about him. He seemed shy, but he had no problems being nude. Maybe not shy, but tentative, waiting for the right signals before making a choice. As Chris thought about Boyd, he could not deny his own attraction to him, he thought this strange--both the attraction and thinking it strange. Boyd looked at him expectantly. "Sorry, about the fade out. Just thinking about today."
"This the first time on a location?"
"Yes, but it is more what I wore. I am usually more modest." Chris grave a humorless laugh. "It's not that I have led a sheltered life nor am a prude. I....body image issues."
Boyd eyes sparkled with humor. "Occupational hazard. I mean I do because I am short. I've worked at Silent Models since I was sixteen, four years. In all that time not one model came close to my height. I was a petunia in a field of gladiolus."
"When I did my audition photos, Gorky said it was less about looks than projecting attitude and emotions." Boyd nodded affirmative to Chris's comment. "I've watched you work, and you project something alluring and interesting. And, of course, you have one hot body."
Boyd thanked Chris for the compliment. The conversation lapsed. "Did I embarrass you being naked last night?" Boyd was uncertain that he should have asked that question, but he wanted to know so he could decide how to proceed with Chris.
"Not embarrassed, no surprised and a little conflicted with myself. Like I said, I do not like others to see me undress, and to see you so casual about it unnerves me that I cannot be so casual."
"You need not be ashamed of your body. It is the one God gave you; you need to be proud of it."
Chris abruptly threw down his napkin and stood. "I think they're ready to leave." Boyd looked at Chris befuddled and hurt. Once back at the hotel, Boyd pulled Cynthia aside. "I don't know what to do with Chris. He seems to not like me for some reason."
"Do you want to change rooms?"
"No, I like Chris, but last night I wandered around nude while he made sure he was totally covers. This morning, I enjoyed the early sun on the balcony, in the buff. He joined me but made sure he was dressed. At supper we talked about body image. He has serious doubts about his looks. I told him to appreciate the body he has. He looked at me funny, threw down his napkin and left the table. What did I do wrong?" Cynthia's worried look bothered Boyd even more. "Did I do something horrible?" Boyd was on the edge of panic and tears.
"You unintentionally hurt Chris very much, but it is not my place to tell you how. Chris is very understanding and forgiving. Just talk to him and apologize. He may or may not tell you, so don't be surprised if his response is muted." Boyd thanked Cynthia and left uncertain on how to approach Chris. He liked and respected Chris and wanted his friendship.
As Chris sat on the room's balcony, he was lost in the dark night, no moon just stars on the ocean: a deep, hollow dark. The waves created a rhyme, a counter punctual to the silence of the stars. Chris new that Boyd's comments were from ignorance and not malice. He felt bad about his reaction, but the comment struck a very raw nerve he thought he had healed. A shooting star crossed the sky. Is that me, thought Chris, a brief short life. Chris mulled that thought over. He survived the streets for three years, only with the help of Hank and Dion. A few times, in the darkest hours, he barely had the courage to move on. "To be or not to be, that is the question." It was a question he still did not have an answer for. He hated himself when he turned maudlin, but he did not know how to shake it. He thought of his job and how much he liked it, and Tom, and how much he liked him. He had his own place and friends who liked him. His life was very good by most standards, so why the funk. Chris took a sip of water when he would have preferred wine. The issue was him. Perhaps Boyd was right; that he should accept his body as it is now, a work in process. A woman's body, with a fake dick. That is who he is now, but not forever. He needed to embrace the changes. With his parents, he was a slender caterpillar who dreamed to be a butterfly, but that does not happen without metamorphosis, transformations, a chrysalis. It would happen; it is happening; exalt in the glory of it. He needed to talk to Boyd.
Boyd found Chris sitting on the room's balcony contemplating the Caribbean dark waters with stars hemming the edge. He coughed to get Chris's attention, not wanting to startle him. Chris turned and gave him a welcoming smile. More confident he joined Chris on the balcony. Neither said anything for a bit then both tried to talk. But Boyd won first rights. "I don't know what I said to hurt you Chris but I am sorry. I really want to be your friend. Can you forgive me."
"Boyd, there is nothing to forgive, my reaction to your comment was rude and uncalled for because it was not said in any malice. I've been here thinking about what you said, and you are right. I need to accept the body I have now and the process I am going through, this is just one necessary step."
"I don't mean to sound dense, but I don't understand?"
"I'm in transition for gender reassignment."
Boyd sat quiet not sure what Chris meant, then, "You're a woman?" Chris coiled back into his chair. Boyd immediately responded. "That didn't come out right. You are a man. I see you as male, always have, trapped in a woman's body." Chris relaxed, a little, cautiously eying Boyd. "I have a cousin who is now ten. At three, his parents wanted to take him shopping for an Easter dress. He firmly told his parents that he was a boy and boys don't wear dresses. My aunt and uncle were stunned by the firm declaration of a three year old. A few days later they went out and bought him a suit. Now the entire family calls him Robert, his name of choice." Boyd waited for Chris to digest the information. "Now I am really sorry for what I said at supper. When will the change be finished? My nephew has to wait until he is well into puberty."
"Your nephew is a very lucky boy, to have so much support around him. It is very hard without it." Chris gave Boyd a soft smile that said forgiveness.
"Your family was reluctant to accept the facts?"
"Reluctant is an understatement. I have not spoken to my parents in over three years. I reconnected with my sister just a few months ago."
"Shit that is harsh. I am so sorry." Boyd put a hand on Chris's. "But you have friends, including me if you want to be, who are there for you."
"That was what I was here thinking when you came in. And you were right that I need to accept my body as it is now, accept that this is me now, embrace it and the changes I am experiencing."
"That seems a solid plan with less angst." Chris laughed at that. "Are you now gay or straight.
"Good question." Chris enjoyed talking to Boyd because Boyd accepted Chris without any doubts. He was who he was and that was fine. "A friend and I were discussing that yesterday. He is going to female and likes men. As a man he is gay as a woman he is hetero. I am the opposite. We decided that the labels don't apply. I like men. Once I am fully male, guess that makes me gay."
"You are looking at this wrong Chris. You were always gay because in your core you were always male. From my nephew I've learned that it is the soul that is important and not the body."
Chris sat pondering that. "Never thought of it that way."
"Got a boyfriend?"
"Yeah sort of."
"Sort of?"
"We have had sex but have not made our relationship official yet. I'm not sure he wants to be committed."
"You fool around?"
"You asking?"
"Maybe."
Chris was not sure if he wanted that. Outside of tricking on the street, which did not count, Tom was the only person he had slept with. But then how would Tom react when he told him because he would. "Maybe" Chris's gave Boyd a tentative smile.
Boyd grabbed Chris's hand and pulled him from his chair. "Let's go have a drink. The legal age is 18."
Cynthia smiled when she saw Chris and Boyd walk into the bar. She waved them over to join the table with her, Dorn and Sledge. "Good to see you boys." She looked a Boyd. "Everything good between you?"
He grinned as he sat next to Chris. "We need a drink." A waiter came over with a drink menu. He gave both Boyd and Chris an appreciative look. "What you have?" Chris opted for Voodoo Juice while Boyd had a Dark and Stormy. Both were potent, sweet, and very tropical. The breeze from the ocean, the conversation, and the booze mellowed Chris. His phone vibrated; a message from Tom. "Back in NY, stayed a day longer. U have FUN." Chris wondered what Tom meant with fun in all caps.
Sledge passed around a tablet with pictures from today's shoot. "Some are crap and some acceptable. Chris and Boyd made comments that mostly agreed with Sledge's opinion. One particularly caught Chris's eye. It was he and Boyd in bikinis, Chris's red and Boyd's magenta. But what really caught Chris's eye was the pose. Water swirled around their ankles creating eddies of foam and the dark jagged lava rocks topped with green and a slash of blue blue sky behind them. Boyd's darker Hispanic skin against Chris's paler color. Both standing very close with Chris's arm around Boyd's waist, Boyd's one hand on Chris's outside thigh. Chris was looking straight forward, in challenge while Boyd looked up at Chris lost in affection. "That is the best of the lot." Sledge commented. "You both looked very good together. We'll get more tomorrow of the two of you."
"Where to tomorrow?"
"Rainbow Beach at sunrise." Chris and Boyd both moaned. "The botanical garden, which is an old sugar mill, and ending at Point Udall, the Easternmost part of the US." Dorn said. Chris and Boyd finished their drinks, excusing themselves for the needs of an early rise. Chris slept well that night in just boxers.
"This yours?" Boyd said walking out of the bathroom holding Chris's prosthetic.
Chris wanted to crawl under the sheets, but instead crawled out of bed to retrieve the object. "Yeah."
"It feels and looks very real." Boyd caressed the head of the phallus. "Does it work? Can you pee with it on?"
"Yes, if I am careful and the bladder is not too full, I can use a urinal just like any man."
"Cool." Boyd debated but asked anyway. "Does is get hard"
"There's a pump in the scrotum that inflates the shaft and keeps it hard until I deflate it."
"You can have a constant erection." Boyd voice said he was both impressed and interested.
"It can even ejaculate."
"Way cool. Mind if a send a picture to my cousin?" Chris agreed and thought it was a good idea. "Ever fuck with it?"
"No, never tried that."
"What," Boyd sounded incredulous. "You got this tool designed to fuck ass and you've never used it."
"Tom never expressed an interest, so I never brought it up."
"You can shove this into me any time you want." Boyd handed the prosthetic over to Chris, who retreated to the bathroom to shower and dress. Chris returned from the bathroom dressed similar to the day before except his shirt was robin's egg blue silk over a same color tank. Boyd patted Chris's crotch as he walked by. "Feels like the real thing." Chris wanted to frown but just grinned.
They drove to the beach before the sun rose. Cynthia passed out McDonald's breakfast meals. Since the beach was on the west end of the island, the sun did not directly shine on the beach, which is what Sledge wanted. Sunrise colors painted the water and sky without photographing into the sun. The beach was almost deserted. The guys changed in the van into the same swimsuits from the day before. The sun rose hitting the vertical side of the incoming waves; they glistened like sheets of silver touched with pink. Chris and Boyd frolicked in the water while Sledge took constant pictures. After three hours and four changes. Sledge was happy that she had enough to select. She had told Chris that she takes a thousand pictures and hope to have five good ones. Gorky has said almost the same. Once everyone had rinsed the salt water, using the open shower on the beach, and dried, it was off to location two.
Saint George Village Botanical Gardens was set in a sixteen-acre botanical garden. It was an old sugar plantation with some restored building and some in ruins. The diversity of plant, most of which Chris didn't recognize, fascinated Chris, especially the cactus garden. Changing into clothes was a challenge. Sledge and Dorn held up a large sheet which was the front of the changing room, nature was the other walls. The attire was bright jeans and shirts and the locations were among the various foliage, ruins, and a waterfall--that proved the most challenging for changing because it was popular. By 2:00 they were finish and famished. It was Turtle's Deli for a lunch of sandwiches. Chris indulged on a white chocolate macadamia cookie. The last stop was Point Udall and the Millennium Monument. The same challenge for changing was there, but the ocean was the back wall, but the crowd was larger. A small group of guys casually milled around for the show. Chris did not care; he changed without hiding his prosthetic. Attire was shorts with or without T-shirts. Here Chris was paired with Arthur and Katil mostly. Katil wanted to descend the bluff to the ocean, but it was steep. Cynthia forbad it; she did not want any injuries on the job. Katil sulked for a good hour. Sledge's camera never missed one of his pouts. By 6:30 the van was packed and on the way to the hotel. They had covered the whole island west to east, all 28 miles. It was 7:30 by the time they pulled into Savant for supper, reservations had already been made weeks ago by Cynthia. After supper, it was the hotel bar. Cynthia laid out the schedule for Thursday, a stop at the yacht club and Estate Little Princess Plantation an old plantation and then a flight back to New York at 3:00 PM, landing around 11:30 that night. Another very long day, two drinks and Chris and Boyd headed to their room.
Both were a little fuzzy from the booze, exhausted to the point of not being able to sleep, so they sat, one naked, the other only in boxers, on the balcony enjoying the tropic breeze and the soft sounds of the surf. "If," Boyd hesitated. "if you want to try your fake cock, my ass would be more than willing." He reached over and kissed Chris's hand. Chris could not deny that he was attracted to Boyd, but what about Tom. But Tom said have FUN. Did he mean this. Boyd was uncomfortable with Chris's long silence, "Sorry I asked," he gently said so afraid he hurt Chris. "I'm buzzed and horny. Just forget I said anything. I want to be your friend more."
Chris turned to Boyd, seeing the anguish on his face. "I really want to, Boyd. I like you a lot, but we are both tired and too drunk, at least I am, to make the experience special. I want to make love to you not just fuck you. You are too nice for a quick fuck."
Boyd brightened, "I don't want that either, but it is either tonight and then maybe never."
Chris moved his chair right next to Boyd. "We will have plenty of opportunity since we will be working together. The agency I work for just bought Silent Models; we are coworkers now." Boyd gave a yeah tinged with uncertainty. "We don't get into New York until late tomorrow...no today. Do you have anyone picking you up at the airport?"
"I live in Jersey, so I usually call my brother. I hate to do it because he goes to work at 6:00."
"Want to spend the night at my place, no strings attached. I have two bedrooms." Chris gifted Boyd with an enchanting smile. "Unless, you do not want to sleep alone." Boyd leaned over the chair and firmly kissed Chris under the glittering starry night. Chris wanted to melt into the kiss, but it was not Tom.
Although allowed to sleep a little later, the morning was hectic with checking out of the hotel, packing the van because once they were done at Estate Little Princess Plantation they were to head to the airport. "Change of plans gang," Dorn said. Estate Little Princess Plantation first then the yacht club. Pack your luggage now. Outfits for Little Princess on the right and yacht club on the left. We will drop the wardrobe off at freight shipping before checking our luggage. Everyone got tickets?" "Shit!" Katil was franticly patting his body, then looked in his carryon bag. "Got it." Everything packed, we headed to Estate Little Princess Plantation.
The Estate was an old Danish plantation with some building and a nature conservancy. Chris did not have time to explore the ground because Cynthia was screaming at the stupidity of the New York staff. The shoot was to be evening wear, but they omitted the shirts. Sledge just said to shoot without shirts. It was done. Tuxedos and bow ties against bougainvillea, tamarind, stone walls of the old windmill, sweeping steps of the old plantation house. Dorn was very please and even Cynthia, once she saw the proofs, was excited by the results--elegant, exotic, and erotic.
The yacht club was a disappointment for Chris, who expect large sailboats and expensive yachts. The pictures were tropical. Gauzy pants, shorts, shirts and wide-brimmed hats in bold colors were captured on the dock, sandy beach, and on one sailboat that the owner allowed permission. The entire shoot was only a little over an hour, and then lunch and the airport to wait. As Chris entered the van on the trip to the airport, he was anxious to get home, to his bed, to his friends, to his sister, who sent him daily texts with pictures, and to Tom. The island was paradise, but without Tom, it was a fraudulent paradise--too perfect, too seductive. If Eden were like this, he understood why Eve ate the apple. She was bored. It was nice for a visit; a place he might to come back to with Tom, but he doubted he would again. The world was vast with interesting places, and this was only one small point on it.
Arriving late the first day, he saw little of the St Croix airport. Leaving, he liked it more. It was small, modern, two story with only 10 gates; JFK had 12 times more. Once embarked on the bright yellow plane and seated next to Boyd, Boyd asked, "What did you think of your first location shoot?"
Chris's emotions were mixed. "The location is spectacular. It was very hard work under less than studio conditions. But for me, the best part was getting to know you better." Boyd glowed, and Chris watch the blue topaz water expand as they rose higher. A two-hour layover in Ft Lauderdale, supper at a Cuban restaurant, and time to buy Tom a small gift--a security camera that will work in hotel rooms.
Of course, the flight to New York was late. It was almost 2 in the morning when Chris and Boyd stumbled into Chris's place. "Holy shit, this is yours?" mumbled Boyd as Chris pulled Boyd to the bedroom where they collapsed on the bed to fall swiftly asleep.