He leaves Justin puddled on the floor in a pool of unfulfilled lust, and pretends that his lips don�t burn from Justin�s touch, that his body isn�t on fire with its own unsatisfied desire. He stalks to the liquor cabinet and draws out a bottle, any bottle, and doesn�t bother with a glass but drinks straight from the neck. He ignores the shuffling of Justin heading to the shower -- of course, the shower -- but he waits until the muffled sound of running water drifts from the bathroom to drop into the office chair.

His fingers tap the CD case idly.