If we shadows have offended

It's a good night, good cheer, and Neil's that sort of lovely exhausted that's too full of energy to be tired. And he meant what he said before they left the park, that he was so disgustingly sweaty that he barely knows what to do with himself.

But Caleb's been snuggled up on him all through disgusting, fatty, greasy food, so clearly he's not offensive.

It takes almost no convincing to get Caleb to take him back to his place--he doesn't know if Rosie is going to be home, or at Charlie's or Sabrina's, but he drops her a line that he's with Caleb and will be out all night--and as soon as he's through the door, he plasters himself up against his boyfriend to give him a much deeper, much more thorough kiss than any he'd planted on him out in public since Caleb picked him up.

Waking up was a strange experience. There's something, upon waking, that isn't quite right, and Neil's not sure how to put it. Like the bed has gotten larger, or he's gotten smaller. He's alone--and it strikes him that he knew that. Since Nick's disappearance, Neil's been doing his best to not have Caleb over, not wanting to upset the quiet sanctity of his and Rosie's apartment. When she's ready for friends over, they'll come. But it will be up to her, and not him.

He stretches a little, and it's that that really starts to clue him in. How his shirt and shorts move against his body. Weird. But he's still mostly asleep, and it doesn't really mean anything except that he's tangled up in clothes and sheets.

So, blinking sleep out of his eyes, he clambers out of bed and to the bathroom, intent on going through the regular sleepy motions of waking up. Toilet, shower, brushing his teeth, all of those sorts of things. Except--

He doesn't scream, exactly, when he reaches down and doesn't find his dick. He does make a noise. He definitely falls on his ass, scrambling to both look at what's going on and urgently pull his shorts back up so that he doesn't have to. Now that he's startled awake, he's aware of being, well, small. Small shoulders and small waist and small hands. Of breasts under his t-shirt. He doesn't want to look in the mirror, like seeing his reflection makes it more real.

Maybe he can just go back to bed?