It’s late by the time we reach the hotel, and the only room they have available for us has a single kingsize bed. “Great,” I mutter as I help Mojo unload our bags and crates onto one of the hotel’s luggage carts. “Did you even ask if they had any double rooms open?”
“It’s f*****g eleven o’clock at night,” Mojo points out. “Everyone who’s coming to this con is already here. We showed up last so we got what was left. Don’t sweat it.”
Easy for him to say—he isn’t going to be trying to sleep with a raging hard-on mere inches from a guy he’s been jonesing over for months now. As he finishes putting the last of his tattoo supplies onto the cart, he says, “A king size bed is huge, man. It’s like as wide as it is long. We can sleep on separate sides and it’ll be like we’re each in our own bed. Y
