Addicted [BoyxBoy]

One Last Breath

"You wanna go somewhere?" Bobby asked after what seemed like an eternity.

"Yes," I eagerly groaned, already getting up.

It wouldn't be too bad, dating him.

*****

The familiar sound of the ball barreling through the pins left me feeling satisfied in a way. Eight pins. I was getting better.

"Okay, so that leaves you with 32 and me with. . ."

I turned to look at Bobby, who was sitting by the automated scoreboard, staring at me as he stopped his sentence.

"With what?"

"You'll get mad," he said, suppressing a chuckle.

"And that's stopped you before?"

The chuckle made its appearance, and Bobby paused to take a breath.

"You have 32 and I have 108."

"I know," I laughed, practically skipping back over to him, taking a seat across from him.

"Oh," he smirked and lengthened his vowel in a way that made it seem as though he was impressed, "so we're not angry, are we?"

"Bobby, you act like I haven't been paying attention to the screen or my own turns. I've had time to compose myself and keep myself from throwing a tantrum."

He quickly moved next to me and smiled, his face inches from mine.

"But I like your tantrums."

"So you told me this information, knowing I'd get mad, expecting me to be upset and throw a fit?"

He just smiled, obviously trying to be funny.

I whacked him on the arm and nudged him away from me as I said, "You're horrible."

His firm body wasn't adhering to my wishes and instead he pulled me into his arms and buried his still smiling face into my neck.

"But you love me," he said with a childish tone that would either make someone coo or make someone want to smack his pretty face.

"Debatable," I joked, still leaning into his embrace. It obviously was not up for debate.

He chuckled and shifted himself so that he could pull me even closer, if it were at all possible. I couldn't stand how warm and inviting he was, and how his scent practically latched itself into my memory. He was simply intoxicating, and I was loving every minute of it.

We just sat there, enjoying each other's warmth. I listened to his deep breathing and tried to match it with my own, and I contained the shivers that threatened to move across my body as he shifted and started breathing directly on my neck.

"So the funeral is on Saturday."

He sat up, looking directly at me.

I continued, "They aren't having a service, but they want a proper burial."

"Why aren't they giving him a service?" he asked with concerned eyes.

"They think it'll be too hard on people, especially his son. Plus, they can't have an open casket for obvious reasons."

My sight drifted to the ground, my feet suddenly very interesting.

"Well, I already told you that I'm there. So, all that's left is you telling me when I should come get you."

I smiled. Him being there for me made everything so much easier. "My mom's taking me, Bobby. But I still want you there."
He moved swiftly to kneel in front of me and face me, his eyes shining with kindness and affection.