[6] Horndogs Are Annoying

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A/N: So the person who commented telling me to update actually made me want to update really bad, so here. I actually listened to the song No Angels by Bastille while writing this so yeah. I love this story so much and it's sort of writing itself. What do you think is gonna happen with Lonnie and Preston? Or, what do you WANT to happen?

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I stretched like a cat, yawning widely and wincing at the dull ache in my tongue. It took me a second to gather why that was. The previous day came smashing to the forefront of my mind and I blushed, smiling fondly. Never in my life had I thought a day like that would have happened. I then remembered that I was lying in a bed next to the single most attractive boy I had ever met, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a baggy shirt.

“Fuck,” I swore quietly under my breath. He could find me out in seconds if I made the wrong move.

I shifted slightly, moving to push myself off of the bed when his arms snaked around my waist and held me tightly against his chest, mumbling incoherently against my neck. I shuddered and flushed hotly, loving the feeling of his arms around me, but cursing myself for it.

The sun rose higher into the sky and I grew increasingly anxious. I finally gently broke his hold from me and rolled out of the bed.

My feet padded gently against the hardwood floor as I made my way into the kitchen. I wasn’t entirely fond coffee, as it gave me a headache and smelled horrible, but I was really into tea. Like, REALLY into it.

I poured the steaming tea into a deep black mug and sighed contentedly, watching the water vapor curl and writhe desperately up in the air. The apartment was silent, and I could hear birds chirping joyfully outside, the soft, muffled, sound of a light rain pattered against leaves just next to the window. I smiled softly and sipped absentmindedly at the sweetened tea in my hands, my mind wandering to more hectic places.

I tried to sort through my thoughts. I needed to get this all together before it crushed my skull and destroyed what little sanity I had.

I knew I liked dressing as a boy. Being referred to as a guy made a little thrill go up my spine and I checked that off the list. Presenting myself as a girl made me feel slightly nauseous and that was a glaring problem. So from all of this I can safely say I wanted to be a boy. A wave of relief washed over me at that admission. Well that was out of the way.

Second issue nagging at the back of my head was my sexuality. Obviously gender and sexuality weren’t connected in any way shape or form, but that just made this all the more difficult. Well, from my encounters with Lonnie, I knew I liked boys. So I guess that made me gay. Wellp, second issue gone.  

I started forward towards my brother’s bedroom, grinning eagerly and practically bursting with the need to tell him my discoveries. That’s when a soft moan broke the silence and my face immediately flamed bright red when I realized it was Jesse. Several more noises drifted through the walls and I gaped in horror. I so did NOT want to hear my brother getting it on at seven A.M, thank you very much.

I swiftly walked into the living room and switched on the T.V, hoping to drown out the noise. Knowing Mason, he wasn’t stopping for anything. The world could be ending for all he cared, that still wouldn’t get him to quit.

I flopped onto the squishy black couch and crossed my legs, pulling a pillow into my lap to snuggle. I flipped through the channels and came across the Discovery channel. I smiled to myself and watched a story about two people committing heinous murders together. I adored murder stories, they just fascinated me.

The narrator was describing a particularly grisly murder when Lonnie came stumbling in, rubbing his eyes and mumbling something about rabbits. I smirked, amused. He was kind of adorable in the mornings. He had a pillow imprint on his left cheek and his lips were red against the paleness of his face.

He seemed to notice me finally and his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment as he let out a nervous little chuckle.  He came to flop down next to me, burying his head in the pillows.

“They just won’t shut up, will they?” he muttered into the upholstery, “Horny bastards woke me the fuck up, AGAIN.”

“Nope,” I said, popping the p on my lips, “I’m pretty sure you should get used to their shameless fucking.”

He groaned loudly in dismay and I giggled. He just looked so disgruntled, I wanted to laugh at him and feel sorry for him at the same time.

After about three minutes and no movement or sign of life from Lonnie, I assumed he was dead and went to go get dressed. Lonnie had said yesterday that I was welcome to borrow his clothes, although they might be a bit baggy.

I fished through his clothes and finally pulled out some that fit my tastes. I tugged the black sweatshirt over my head and realized that it wasn’t too big on me, just a little long in the arms, so that it fell over my fingertips. The jeans I tugged on next would have been fitted on Lonnie, but they were loose on me. There were large rips in the knees and smaller rips in the thighs of the faded blue material. I turned to look in the mirror that hung on Lonnie’s gray wall, expecting a train wreck. The sweatshirt looked fine on me and covered any curves I may have had, as well as making me look slightly paler. The skinny jeans fit me tighter than I had thought, loosely gripping my thighs and lower legs, the material gathering and bunching around my ankles.  My sandy blonde hair hung in my silver eyes and accentuated my sharp jaw. All in all, I looked presentable.

I strolled back into the rest of the house and practically collided with a flushed and sweaty Jesse. I raised my eyebrows at him and he blushed deeply, grumbling under his breath.

“Uh shut up,” he groused.

“I didn’t say anything,” I retorted lightly.

“You thought it. So shut your face,” he complained like a toddler.

“I don’t think you can shut a face, but dear brother, I shall try,” I spoke gravely.

Mason sauntered past us, running a hand through his shaggy hair and snickering.

“Oh fuck off you idiotic horndog, you ruined my precious sleep!” whined Lonnie loudly, chucking a pillow at his cousin’s head, who pleasantly flipped him the bird before starting the coffee maker. I wrinkled my nose. Ew. Coffee.

“Ewwww, coffee. You jerks are trying to kill me again, I know it,” Lonnie complained melodramatically, flopping to the floor with a tragic sigh.

“Quit your bitching and moaning you frigging idiot, you know the last time was an accident,” Mason yelled, annoyed, from the kitchen over the loud bumping and groaning of the coffee maker.

“Again?” I questioned quirking my eyebrow, amused.

“Yes, again,” Lonnie replied snippily, “and these bastards won’t own up to it.”

“Oh come on Lonnie baby, it’s not Mason’s fault he’s a horrible cook,” Jesse said lovingly, while Mason uttered an outraged, “Hey!”

I realized it was like they had their own little family, Jesse going over to sweetly kiss Mason’s shoulder before starting breakfast as Lonnie continued to pout like an eight year old. It was actually heartwarming.

“So Preston,” Jesse started, winking, “how’s dear old mom and dad? Still annoying as fuck?”

I rolled my eyes; as if he had to ask, “Duh Jesse, you know how they are. Dad’s never there, and mom flits around trying to mold me into the perfect little angel she thinks I should be.”

Lonnie wrinkled his nose and blurted, “But you ARE and angel!”

He immediately clapped his hand over his mouth and apologized, “Sorry, no fucking verbal filter.”

I snickered at the irony of his statement and Jesse rolled his eyes.

“Well bitch, we’re gonna go back there so you can pack your bags, because it’s spring break and you’re staying with us!” Jesse cheered and I just stared blankly at him.

Oh yeah. Spring break. I forgot about that. 

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