My Mess

Chapter forty-five: Vanilla Or Good Boy Kink?

He rolled his eyes, tapping the paper again. "You want to fail high school?"

"Not the first thing in my life I've disappointed in."

He snorted, "You said that way too casually."

I yawned, "Truth hurts."

"That's not very happy-go-lucky of you," Nathaniel murmured and I grinned.

"Maybe I've had a change of heart. What do you think? Silent and brooding type, think I fit the aesthetic?"

He laughed, "Absolutely not. I couldn't even imagine it. In fact, not even slightly. Actually, I'm almost positive I've had nightmares about it now."

"It's the drama king again, ya know, if you keep this up I'll start having to call you Cole. Not sure how I feel about you impersonating me."

"Glad? Grateful? I could go back to stealing your sucker or-"

"You steal my sucker, I vomit on your shoes." I warned, waving a finger at him.

"You're hilarious." He said, stoned face.

"I've been told. Mostly by Brian, sometimes I get called annoying. I don't know, I think I'm hilarious."

"Has anybody ever told you, you have a giant ego?"

"No but people have told me I have a giant cock-

He slapped his hand over my mouth and I gave him a wink before licking his hand.

Honestly that was his own fault, what all did he expect.

"Come on," he said patting my thigh, "You gotta get some work done, aren't you going to college?"

I laughed loudly, hysterically. I never knew Nathaniel could actually make funny jokes! What a plot twist.

"Taking that as a no," he grumbled, sliding my paper over to him as he took a seat on the arm of my chair.

I entertained the idea of shoving him off.

I didn't do that.

But I was tempted.

"This is what, trig?"

"Calc," I said with a yawn.

"Yeah, okay, moving on." He moved the paper away with a smile and I chuckled.

He was smart, but I don't think a single soul was good at Calculus. And if you were than I'd like to suck your dick. Well, I wouldn't like to suck your dick right now because I'm dating Nathaniel, but in the past I would've gladly dropped to my knees faster than a weight lifter who holds his breath.

"History?" He asked, glancing down to the sheet.

I leaned against his side, nodding, "Yeah, something about history anyways."

"This should be easy," he said, grabbing the pencil and causing my head to shift, which initiated a glare from me to which he pat my head like a fucking dog.