Curiosity gets the Kat [ route]

You are Kathrine Smith, an 18 year old college freshman. You are sitting in the dorm room of your big brother John, listening to the shower turn on in the bathroom. It really smells in John’s room. You cannot quite put the scent, but if you had to describe it it’s thick, musty even. Watching John fetch a dirty towel from his hamper to shower with kinda confirmed your suspicion that he isn’t doing his laundry nearly often enough. Or cleaning his sheets for that matter. They smell strongly. The whole room smells strongly.

It is making your head light in a way you can't exactly put a finger on. You lay down on John's bed and that same smell gets even stronger, and you feel yourself drawn to it. Your nose leads you to roll over and press your face into his pillow and breathe deeply. It’s really weird, you have to think to yourself, aren’t dirty sheets supposed to smell bad? But instead you are huffing a tangy mix of sweet molasses and an earthy scent on them that you can’t describe as bad, surely not when you’re snorting it like some weirdo. Just breathing it in makes your nose and then your whole head feel tingly. Then it makes your chest feel tight. Then it makes your crotch feel warm.

“Ok, that’s enough.” You snap at yourself, sitting up and feeling very weird. You’re being weird, you think to yourself, glancing at the bathroom door. The shower is still running, for the moment. Your eyes narrow. No, you think, John is being the weird one. John didn’t used to smell good. Different. He didn’t used to smell different.

You sigh.

Then you fall over and shove your face back into his sheets. The sensations return, the tingling in your nose, the tightness in your chest, and the warmness in your crotch. You cross your ankles over each other, and sit there a long moment, breathing. You feel your head going pleasantly blank from it. Which is very relaxing, coming from someone who is as high strung as you. Having your mind just a dial tone is surprisingly comforting. Having John around is comforting, even if you’d never willingly admit to it except under duress.

Especially not now, breathing in his musky bed spread like some pervert. Especially not now, after he screwed around with Marcy. Especially not now that you have way too much information from Marcy about the exact details of what he and she did. Worse still, she won’t shut up about it! Since yesterday morning, it’s just been John this and John that. You’ve experienced a lifetime of second hand embarrassment just being around her, and yet you sat and listened with rapt attention as she told you the story, in all of its gritty and gross details, between bouts of puking in the dorm bathroom.

“John, you are in so much trouble.” You grunt into his pillow, idly kicking your legs in the air. You feel your face get hot as you continue breathing in the weirdly aromatic smell of John’s dirty sheet. You hear the shower shut off, and you snap sitting up. You try to control your breathing, control yourself, as you hear the distinct sounds of the shower curtain and John shuffling about. You try to steel the expression on your red hot face as you hear the bathroom door open, and hope that you don’t look too guilty.