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“Bro my god,
“Talk about yourself in the third person again. I don’t think you’ve met your douche quota for today.”
“Stop talking.” “But it’s my best quality.” “I promise it isn’t.”
If he wants to tell me, he will, and in the meantime, I’ll trust him with my shit so he knows he can trust me with his.
“So you’re brofriends?” Holy shit, that makes perfect sense. “That’s what we are.” “Huh?” “Brofriends. We’re not dating, but we’re not just brothers anymore either.” “Context really is key here.”
There must be some heavy drugs in his cum, because I never would have thought the sight of a fucking fanny pack could make me feel soft, and yet, here we are. With me not taking the opportunity to laugh at his clothes.
“You’ve got marks.” “They’ll fade.” He strokes my neck, right over the bite. “This won’t. At least, not quickly.” I close my arms around him and flip us so I’m on top. His dick slips out, and now my ass feels kinda raw. But totally worth it. “Good,” I tell him. “I don’t want it to fade. I want more.” I kiss him. “So many more.” Again and again.
I don’t want to deal with the smack talk. Robbie is mine, and hearing people talk shit about him makes me ragey. Only I’m allowed to do that.
