The Tales Of Bryck and Westley ✔

A friend in need, is a (Sex) friend indeed

Westley lied shirtless on his bed half asleep, after a long strenuous day of working then coming home to babysit his younger siblings and play daddy to his twin son and daughter.

Bryck had left the Point Blank bar before he could have had the chance to even get drunk. Even as a single college student he was still having problems with his ex. He drove fast, but not too fast, as to not attract any police officers, he didn't want to get another bloody ticket. He sighed out and thought of driving back to his house, but he was home alone and he wanted to not be alone with the words of his ex still nagging at him.

None of his friends would be up at this time, let alone in the mood for a lonely friend to stay over and complain about his annoying ex. He sighed at the name that crossed his mind and decided to call—he had no other choice. "Bixby, call Westley Matthews"

'Calling Westley Matthews...' the phone rang three time before he picked up.

Westley jumped up from his sleep to see his cell ringing and Bryck's name big and bold on the screen. He swore to every name his knew as he moved to answer his phone.

'What the fuck? Don't you know what time it is?'

'What's up your ass—don't answer that. Anyways, I'm coming over.'

Westley groaned out tiredly. 'Why?'

'Iz and I had a fight—I'm coming over.'

'What did you do now—and isn't she your ex?'

'Nothing, that's the freaking point! She just snapped on me like a manic!'

'Dude, just calm down okay, besides, it's not like she's still your girlfriend,' a long pause passed between them, 'is she?'

'No.' Westley huffs out, relieved and combed his hand back through his black curls. A thought crossed his mind and he asked what came to him.

'Wait, where are you?'

'Coming upstairs.' Before Westley had the time to reply, his room door flew open. "So, you had my spare keys." He said standing and sitting on the cool floor at the bottom of the bed

"Shut up." He huffed, closing the door and flopping down on the floor next to Westley. He rested his head on Westley's shoulder and pouted. "Wanna go to a strip club?"

"I'm not up for a trannies tonight, Westley." he sighs.

"But they always cheer you up. Maybe I can give you a dance." he suggested smirking when Bryck glanced up at him, head still on his shoulder. "I'm mad."

"You seem more like a sad puppy than a mad ex-boyfriend." Westley stated.

"Don't say that." He whines.

"You're literally proving my point. Urgu, God Bryck, please stop whining—it's not the fucking end of the world. Izzy's a bitch that has anger problems and you two are always gonna be fighting and breaking up and making up—so just shut up and watch TV." He didn't say anything after that, and Westley was worried that he made him feel even worse than he already felt. Westley opened his mouth to apologize but then Bryck rested his hand on Westley's stomach as he scooted closer to him.

Westley breathes a sigh of relief and pats Bryck's head, his short blond hair in a mess, but it makes him look carelessly cuter—which is always a good thing. "Why are you watching this?" he groans.

"I was bored earlier, it looked entertaining, and well, it's not." Westley explained, resting his head back. Love is blind was playing but he was not paying attention.

"Turn it off." Westley rolled his eyes at Bryck's moppy tone and reached for the remote to lower the volume. "This is as low as it goes—and no, I'm not turning it off."