Gavin regretfully struggles to remember

Gavin had left the room without his pants, and he hated every fiber of his being for it. Preventing anything more embarrassment meant going back in there, and he didn't want any reminders of his sudden and insane life choices. Staring at the door, he saw his eyelid twitch over his pupil.

Damnit, damnit, fuck, damnit. He was pretty sure a giant dimple had formed in his forehead from all the smacking he had been doing. Then he remembered he was probably assassinating vital brain cells, and even though that might be a good thing in the short term, it might harm his chances of enrolling in the ivy leagues. Or being able to understand inorganic chemistry.

Or explaining to his two best friends why he ruined any chance of a relationship with one by relentlessly fucking other's long-term crush last night.

Why, why, why, damn why?! He decided his palm wasn't enough and cracked his head against the doorfame. The pain on the oncoming migraine was worse anyway.

C'mon you bastard, think, Gavin attempted. Last night churned like quick-drying cement, striving in vain to stay fluid before the inevitable concretion. Thick and opaque, his mind groped, and elation surged through him when something appeared.

"My nymph of water," Gavin replied, a particular brand of desperation entering his voice. He again moved into her, in something resembling a thrust. "Let's see how far that feeling goes."

... The fuck is wrong with me? He pushed his eyes into their sockets, creating sparkled blotches that obscured the memory for the moment. Chloe is fire, Vicky's water, what's next? Is Heather earth? Fuck, I think I'm making Aristotle roll in his grave.

He soured. Chloe, fuck, I'm sorry. He wasn't like this. He knew that. Chloe was a concerted effort, his energy directed at her and her alone. And now Vicky was in that bed just beyond that door with much more than just oral sex from him in her past. Tightness grew in his chest.

"Coffee," he sighed. Coffee always made things better. Please, sweet merciful gods of the universe, please make this better.

With singular focus, he trundled to the kitchen, being uncomfortably content with only his boxers and shirt. At least he knew where his clothes were, lord knows that Brandon and Zack will be looking for the rest of their wardrobe on the counters in here. Well, now on the floor, as Zack's pants had blocked the route to the coffee maker.

Hey, wait a sec...

"Ahn!" came another female voice, and they glanced over at another blonde being mounted by another brunette. Ashley's bottom half poked out from the kitchen, with her legs enclosing around Zack's waist.

Wait... Zack... that's right! Cringing at the sexual visages plaguing his brain, he took comfort in remembering Zack and Ashley's own adventures on the tile. It wasn't just him! Relief washed over his soul.

Then he actually thought about it, and his heart somersaulted over the oncoming dread. Well, if it wasn't just me...

The aroma of clarity soon peculated in the noisy appliance, and Gavin snapped up the pot and a mug. Life evaporated into him as he sipped, and it was then he noticed how pained his muscles really were. It was as if... ugh, well...

He responded by cradling her to the best of his ability, trying to concentrate on something other than enjoying the slick squeeze of a girl for the first time. He swore loudly, catching his lover's attention. "It's good," Victoria said. Her muscles inexorably released some pressure, but she still had a form hold on Gavin. "Okay... keep going."

He sneered, then frowned. Still though, having amazing sex for the first time in his life didn't feel right as a wholesome explanation. All of his body ached in some way, from twinges in his vertebrae to stretches in his biceps. Even holding the mug to his lips proved a chore for more than a few minutes.

He sniffed, and his nose reminded him of something. Whatever lingered in his nasal conchae tickled a nerve and jolted a memory into life. One that happened before anything else.

He had left the bathroom after freshening up for the not-a-party, and smacked headlong into a running Victoria. Instinctively, he held her, stopping both of them from crashing to the floor. Gavin wanted to ask her what had happened, then... that smell slapped his brain into silence. Musty, syrupy, filling the room and bleaching all thought from their heads.

Except for one. Before he knew it, Vicky was giving him the blowjob of his dreams.

He stared into the abyss of his coffee, steam wafting into the air. His own reflection of uncertain foreboding stared right back.

A door clicked and broke his trance. Somebody else had woken up, and Gavin wasn't entirely ready for any more surprises. Shit, well, okay. Play it cool. I don't know if anything can top my fuckery.

"Hey!" he greeted with his best smile. He caught sight of himself in the coffee and it looked as if he was going to eat whoever it was instead. He vowed not to smile when he was worried again. "Hey, yeah, sorry for my lack of pants, I didn't think anyone would be up this early, you know?! It's not like anything weird happened last night! Haha--"

"What the fuck?!" two voices said together.

"Wha?" Gavin poked his head out and saw a fresh-faced Heather and a weirdly disheveled Kurt not acknowledging him. The couch had captured their complete attention as they stood there, hand in hand, and he craned for a better view. His obliviousness earlier had blinded him to the foldout bed being sprung, and the presence of two bare bodies entwined as one.

The mug exploded when it impacted the floor. The coffee scalded his bare leg, but he didn't react. He couldn't.

Seeing Zack laying over his sister prevented that.