Dirty Little Secret (boyxboy)

Chapter 7

First of all, don't hate me. I'm sorry. Things have been really hectic at home and it's getting hard to deal with. I'll try to update when I can I'm sorry. I love you guys.

-

It was warm. Too warm. Suspicion started clouding in my mind about the overbearing heat that had seemed to engulf me and for a brief minute I thought the house was on fire. With my eyes still closed, I moved my arms around on my bed. My hand hit something smooth and warm like I was. Until I realized, this wasn't my bed and the house wasn't on fire. Although, I do think it would've been better if the house was on fire.

I opened my eyes and things were blurry. Soon enough when my vision cleared up, I noticed more things. And I was pretty freaked out. Never had I ever been put into a situation like this. And I've been in many unpredictable situations. But, someone's arm was wrapped around my waist and they were breathing on my on my neck and shoulder. Their face was in the crook of my neck.

Instant panic and worry washed over me as I pushed myself out of the bed and away from the still sleeping figure next to me. "What the fuck?" I said as I rubbed my eyes and looked around the room trying to recognize if anything was mine at all. And, of course, the only thing that was mine were the clothes scattered a little bit everywhere. Then, I kinda figured that Vic was in that bed. And that this was Vic's room. And that I was in Vic's house.

"Hmm, morning." Vic said to me as he turned from his side to his back. He stretched his arms and let his gaze fall onto me. "Did you sleep well?" He asked.

And I did. Which was weird. But shit, I slept fucking well. "Yeah, I did. Fuck, what time is it?" I asked. He sat up and then proceeded to walk over to his dresser and check his phone. "Shit, it's 8:50." He quickly started going through his dresser for something to wear while simultaneously throwing clothes my way.

"Chill out, it's just school. And don't tell me you're gonna take the time to try and dress all dorky when we have like ten minutes to get to school." I said to him and pulled on the black t-shirt he threw at me. I pulled on my skinny blue jeans from yesterday. Then I sat on the bed and picked at the tears of the jeans that rested at my knees.

"Does my hair look bad?" I asked him, running my fingers through the messy strands. His face had contorted into an are-you-fucking-serious-right-now expression that I found all too amusing as I watched him struggle to button up his khakis–which, fucking thankfully, looked A plus on him, as in they weren't fucking skeet cargo pants or shitty ass corduroy whatever–and he didn't bother with a stupid turtle neck either.

Instead of focusing and struggling to button up his khaki skinny jeans, he started to pull on a light gray Neck Deep shirt. Watching him was fun but messing with him was even more fun. I walked over to him and trailed my fingers down his chest before reaching the edge of his boxers. All at once his movements came to a stop as he peered at me through thick lashes. "Don't mind me, I'm just helping." I whispered as I buttoned them for him but decided to continuously run my fingers under his shirt and all over his skin.

"You're not helping, you piece of shit. Throw me that jacket, please?" He asked me as he turned around to stuff his binder and notebooks into his bookbag. I rolled my eyes and went over to his desk. I picked up the damn acid wash jacket and threw it at him before laying back down on his bed.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked me, standing beside me. "Hmm, chillin', what about you?" I replied as I let a smirk slide over my lips.

"Get the fuck up and let's go." He told me, messing up my hair in the process. "Fuck you." I cursed at him as I stood up and followed him down the steps and out the front door.