Conager jerked his head up, the impressions of his silk pillow fresh on his cheek. He blinked once before noticing the scribbled scratches across his homework. At least he had gotten it finished before falling asleep. He flipped his pencil and erased the stray marks, tossing the whole of the notebook on the bedside table. He stretched his arms forward, arching his back with some resemblance to a cat before sitting up on his knees and looking out the window. It was dark already. How long had he been asleep?<br/>Slipping the cheap, middle hinged phone from his pocket, he lit the screen and squinted. 8:37 lit up across the narrow screen. Luckily for him, he wasn't the kind of person who's sleep schedule was inhibited by extra hours or naps throughout the day. As soon as he nestled into his covers, he would be just fine. But before that had crossed his mind too completely, his slid his legs over and stood, letting his pants drop to his ankles. Another big stretch as he stepped and kicked them beside his dirty hamper. It was a wonder he ever made it, or cared considering how many other garments were hung and slumped here and there.<br/>Slowly creeping to his bathroom, he let the door swing closed about half way, looking into the mirror. It wasn't so amusing to him anymore, but the look of his hair flat and standing straight up on the side of his head surely would have raised a chuckle from anyone who saw him. Her scratched his fingers through a moment, walking over and turning the faucet for steaming water.<br/>It was a quaint bathroom, though not so small. Should this be a "guest bathroom", well, who knows what the master would have. Upon entering, the sandy shaded tile along the floor traveled up the walls. No one would really notice the exquisitely framed body mirror mounted on the back of the door until he closed it. Several steps in to the right was the double sink with a singular long mirror, towel racks on either side. What is all that extra space for? Across the sink was a free standing bathtub, which looked to be modified from a Clawfoot. Just behind the edge along the rounded back wall stood the shower. Most of it was encased by the tiled walls, standing a few inches below the ceiling but a single glass door broke its shape. Two double towel hooks hung on either side of the door, both with only one dark brown towel dangling from it.<br/>Conager left the glass door open as steam began filling the room, most escaping through the main door. He stood in front of the mirror once more, pulling his socks off one at a time with his big toes. He simply slipped his boxer-briefs from his hips, followed by the black undershirt he had slept in. When his naked body was pale and a clear reflection he hesitated with a shallow breath. Reaching up to his temples, he followed the string with his thumb and index fingers, maneuvering the small knot on the back of his head free. Once it slipped apart, his head dropped, the looser strands of his messy hair falling over his eye. He rested the leather on the counter and slunk into the shower, closing the door behind him. It took and extra step to reach the water pouring from the side. His body almost sounded like it sizzled under the heated fluid, but he relished it. His hands pressed the wall beneath the shower head, barely missing the extra long hose. His skinny body looked stiff hunched over, one leg partially bent as he rolled on the ball of his foot a couple times.  Just then his day crossed his mind. Everything from waking to a breakfast he didn't care to eat, to dealing with Caleb - again. it was odd - he was never angry with him, or felt the need to retaliate. But he never found himself feeling sorry for him either. From what he heard, he had a pretty good life. Why was he such an ass?<br/>Then, his final class came to pass. The initial thought of how horrible it would be, come to find it wasn't so bad. And his handsome teacher was of equal standing. He still didn't care for how stiff he was, heritage or not, but he couldn't get passed his looks. His handsome features rotated like a model image in his head, examining all parts of him. It paused as the viewpoint came down his impressive abdominal physique and to his pelvis, to which Conager's eye shot open at the slight twitch he felt in his nether region. There was no use going over and imagining what<span style="font-style: italic">could</span>be. Why think and get his hopes up? It was best left alone considering the likelihood of him ever finding out.<br/>He stood straight, closing his eye again as he let the water consume his face and head. To his left in the strange stretched hexagon shape, were shelves - free standing and hovering as they sat flat in steps ascending towards the back. He grabbed on of the bottles on a middle step. With a quick squeeze his hand was covered and scrubbing through his hair. Brisk and circular and without pausing until he stepped and turned to rinse it. Leaning his head back, he continued scrubbing, relieving himself of all the suds. He never noticed really, but this shower had an unusual tilt to it. Rather than be centered, there was a drain for each corner with the center raised ever so slightly higher for the run off. Shaking his head, he reached for a similar bottle by the shampoo, expelling just a bit of conditioner. Fisting his hand back through his hair, he kept looking at different patterns in the tiles as he tried not to think of the handsome man that was beginning to weigh his thoughts. He then reached from the bristled body brush that hung from a hook at the highest shelf-step. A generous amount of body wash, circular scrubbing across his soft skin from head to toe, and he was finished. A quick rinse, pulling the shower head down and holding the head close to his flesh. It caressed him all over ending at his pelvis, lowering it slowly as Sirius once again came to thought. He quickly pulled the still steaming water away and remounted it, shutting off the round faucet. Maybe ending in a cold stream would have done him good. Regardless he opened the door, careful not to let it swing to far or hard and plucked the towel up. Dabbing his upper half as he walked across the bathroom, he paused at the door to wrap the plush material around his waist, never minding how low it hung.<br/>There wasn't much else to do or say. He simply picked out another pair of underwear, dried off, slipped them on and cocooned himself beneath his comforter. Rubbing his missing eye, he dozed off.<br/><br/>Waking felt strange. As he tended to do, he laid in bed for an extra half hour when his alarm sounded. Somehow, even with his lazy habits, he always managed to make it to school. When his second alarm sounded, he trudged his way out of bed and got dressed. A fancy-ish pair of slacks with leather accents, a long shirt and a black, pocketless cargo vest and he was set. As he slipped on his socks, he stood and walked to his dresser a few feet by the window. Pulling at the smallest top drawer, they revealed an array of patches. Wiggling his fingers over them for a moment, he finally pulled one from the line. A square patch with a string on each corner and a diagonal stitched patter across the front. Descending the main stair with a hop, he dropped his backpack by the front door and headed to the kitchen. Amelda was definitely up this morning. He could still smell the homemade sausage. To his surprise, there was a plate on the bar, still with a little steam coming off the top. Her delicious sausage, a pile of scrambled eggs, and crisp toast with a bit of butter - so much better than yesterday.<br/>He swallowed a little quicker than necessary, forgetting to sit the whole time until he had to leave. Washing it all down with more orange juice, he wiped his face with a napkin, set it all in the sink and dashed for the door. Nothing new struck him on his way to school and it was only when he finally sat down in his first class that he realized he just wanted to go back to bed.