Say It Ain't So (SWAT Generation 2.0 9)

I sat down to do my business, then decided to stay there long after my business had wrapped up—i.e., I’d taken a piss sitting down for the first time since I was a toddler without doing other things along with it.

“Umm, Sammy?” Hastings called. “Are you okay? Should I come in there and help?”

I would’ve laughed had I had the strength. “I’m just having a wee bit of a rest.”

She pushed the door open and came to a sudden stand still.

“Uh, shit.” She covered her hand with her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

I looked down at myself. There really wasn’t anything to see, per se. I mean, it was obvious that I was sitting there, but there wasn’t much more that she could see other than some bare thigh and some outside cheekage.

“It’s fine,” I said as I sighed. “I was trying to decide whether to stand up or not. But my joints hurt. They feel like they’re about to separate, and soon the only thing that’ll be holding my body together is my skin. My skin that hurts, might I add.”

I stood up and nearly cried.

Quickly, I attempted to jerk up my pants—which was honestly a quite pathetic attempt. I was having a hard time maneuvering my cock and balls back into my pants because it took so much effort to lift my waistband over them.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, hands still firmly covering her eyes.

“Yes,” I said as I tried again, in vain, to get my pants over my junk.

“Let me see your hand. But keep those eyes closed,” I ordered.

She kept her hand covering her eyes but extended the one that wasn’t being used.

And promptly poked me in the penis head.

She froze, I froze, but my dick didn’t freeze.

It got bigger.

All it took was a single, solitary, lone poke and it was all ready to go. Apparently it wasn’t affected by my fever or the flu.

“Umm,” she hesitated. “I…I’m…” She shook her head.

I could see her face flushing behind her hand and between her fingers.

“Penis,” she whispered.

I shook my head and guided her hand to my waistband, a bit away from my cock. “Can you pull these? I just… I can’t get it back in.”

There was a long moment of silence and then she reached out blindly with her other hand, her eyes pinched tight.

“Guide this one, too,” she ordered as she held out her hand, much higher than she would’ve been able to touch my cock accidentally again.

I guided it to my waistband and she tugged it out slightly, finally allowing my dick and balls to fall back into the spot they were supposed to be.

And I would not be examining why one tiny poke still had me as hard as a rock.

“Thank you,” I rasped. “I’m fully clothed now. You can open your eyes.”

What I probably should’ve said was ‘you can leave now.’ But I didn’t. And when she opened her eyes and automatically looked down at where my dick was awkwardly jutted sideways at an awful angle, I could do nothing but shrug in response.

“You have soft hands,” I said.

“Pew, pew, pew.” She slapped her hands onto her cheeks and shook her head. “Trust the Midas touch.” She shook her head violently. “Fuck me. I’ll be out there.”

Then she rushed out the door as if she could barely stand to be in the room with me.

Sadly, after that, things only got worse.

And not necessarily because of my accidentally having her poke my dick thing. But because of my fever thing.

“I thought you were hot as hell when we were lying on the floor of Walgreens,” I told her a while later as I once again took up her bed. “Would you like to be my lover?”

She didn’t laugh or giggle or anything. She shook her head, which caused the bed to bounce slightly with her movements.

“I’m a bad catch,” she admitted after I’d professed my love for her.

I laughed. “You’re not a bad catch. What makes you think you’re a bad catch?”

But before I could hear an answer, I finally, finally fell asleep.

***

The next time I woke, the rain was gone, and apparently so was my fever.

Oh, and there was something else gone, too.

The girl that talked with me throughout the night.

The girl that had made me laugh with delirium. The girl that had shoved me in the shower around two this morning when my fever had gotten so high that I wasn’t making any sense.

The girl that had lain next to me all night long and talked to me for hours and hours as she waited for me to fall back to sleep after the shower.

The girl that was gone, and I had a feeling wouldn’t be coming back.

I got up and slowly made my way out of the room.

“Hastings?” I called.

Nothing.

I poked my head in the open second bedroom, which was more like a broom closet, and felt my eyes widen when I saw all the cameras that were aimed at the street and the grounds. I didn’t miss the mess, either. She was right. She really needed to clean up all her random papers off the floor.