Loser 😍‼ -Xander
thats not vrry nice xander thats not nice!👆👆 -chlk
Sorry for no updates i was supposed to rr this and i blatantly didn't <3
NO THAT ISN'T EVEN TRUE I DID REREAS IT AND THEN XANDER DIDN'T POST IT FOR LIKE THREE WEEKS AND THEY TEXTED ME LIKE CHALK UMMM WHY HAVEN'T WE UPDATED AND I WENT IM WAITING FOR YOU XANDER AND THEY WEERE LIKE OH SO THEY EDITED IT MORE AND NOW I HAVE TO READ THE ENTIRE THING OVER AGAIN WHICH IN MH HUMBLE OPINION IS KINDA ABLEIST BUT OK SO ANHWAH NOW I HAVE TO READ IT AGAIN AND ITS FUXKING UNFAIF
-chalk
(Xander, aka me, wrote this one)
3k words
The next day arrived, but very slowly, maybe the thoughts of that handsome brunet lingering in his mind somehow slowed down time itself. But how could you blame him? Why wouldn't you think about a handsome, tall and british man that was just perfect in every way?
Just thinking about him could make him hard. (Luckily it didn't.)
Schlatt groaned, shifting on the sheets as he moved his head to the other side, the other side was getting too warm and it was irritating him, relishing in the new found comfortable cold. He was lucky enough for his mind to not conjure a wet dream, it would probably make the.... situation worse, if that made sense.
Suddenly, the sound of his alarm blared through the room, eliciting a groan from the American. He reluctantly sat up, leaning against the headboard as he yawned, tired tears whelling up in the corner of his eyes, following it with a refreshing stretch.
He stood up and walked over to his closet, which mainly contained wack hoodies he bought on a whim from a thrift store, gotta spare the most coins you can, and what better place was there than those shops with the already worn but cheap clothing.
After poking his arms through the sleeves of the hoodie and letting the warmth embrace him, he grabbed his keys and walked out the frontdoor.
The dry, stale wind blasted in his face, probably filling his lungs with some chemicals, who knows what's in the air these days.
•••
Once he arrived to his workplace, he stood behind the counter like normal, anticipating an uneventful, usual day ahead. Costumers filling the shop bit by bit before emptying again, sometimes packed full but that didn't happen often, Schlatt quickly learned when it was the busiest hours and mentally prepared himself for those times.
He scribbled someones name on a cup, incorrect on purpose just for the heck of it and passed it off to Minx, it was the only thing that bright up his day whilst he continued to put in orders and receive cash. It was hilarious to him to see the confused frowns when they notice their name is written slightly different.
Occasionally some old mother would be screaming at him to get his manager, and all he could do was smile softly and comply, fortunately he has a good manager who knows when the costumers are wrong or right.
It all bored him, an impassive expression littered across his face. Couldn't he have gotten a better job or something, this stinks.
He didn't hate his job but it's definetly close, he might lose his temper one day.
His mind kept nagging him about the brunet, longing and yearning for him to come back, hoping and praying for it, just so he could be blessed with the privilige to see his angelic face, bask in the enjoyment of his voice, just everything. He day-dreamed while someone was trying to get his attention, snapping their fingers infront of him.
"Oi! Someon' is trying to order somthin' you cunt."
He snapped out of his reverie, slightly upset someone interrupted his musing but covering it with a light, punched out chuckle. "Oh —sorry, what would you like?"
He glanced at the boy, whom looked oddly familiar, blond hair with blue eyes. Hmm, it's probably some frequent customer that acted like they were friends, annoying.
The boy rested his thumb and index finger on his chin, displaying that he was thinking. "....I'll have the Grande Caffé Misto, Wilbur said it was amazing and wouldn't let me try a sip, fuckin' prick."
Schlatt's eyes widened for a quick second, Wilbur, so that's where he knew the boy, he was one of those kids that was tagging along with the man.
He grabbed a Grande cup and held a black marker to the material, looking at the blonde expectantly. "Oh– my names Tommy."
Tommy... he'll remember that if he needed a conversation starter when he talked to Wil, if he ever did so that is. He gave the cup to his co-worker, ringing the costumer to pay afterwards.
Now, he could slip in a note with his number written on it along with the cup, but that would seem weird would it. The kid would think he was hitting on him, which wouldn't end up great.
Well, he could just say it's meant for his friend -or brother, but he would seem stalker-ish, like a creep. He doesn't want to give off weirdo vibes, he wanted to become friends with the brunet and slowly escalate from there, not ask this blond loser for that.
"How do you bother with her?" The boy suddenly spoke, whispering a bit so the 'her' didn't hear us.
"Huh?"
"That girl that brought you back to life?" Schlatt nodded. "Yeah, she's really agressive, how'd she get this job anyway? She would've been fired if I was the manager." Tommy spoke with a crude tone, judgemental.
"Yeah I wish," He spoke before leaning in, raising a hand next to his mouth to secrete what he said. Tommy leaned his ear closer to the American.
"I hate her"
The blonde's mouth went into an 'o' shape, understanding. "How is she not fired?" He whispered back.
"I'm guessing it's because of the lack of employees we have, plus the fact she's really good at making coffee. But I bet the manager has a crush on her or something."
"Really?" Tommy spoke a bit louder, suprise etched into his voice. His eyes were filled with curiousity, wanting for Schlatt to continue.
"Yeah, our manager Niki keeps gawking at her, probably the only reason she got hired to be honest—"
"Tommy!" Minx yelled, holding a cup of coffee in the air, interrupting the interesting convo they were having. Schlatt leaned back, grimacing a bit.
Tommy grabbed his coffee and left, glancing back at Schlatt for a second before dissapearing.
•••
The sky tinted itself darker the more time passed by, the sun slowly yet surely dipping below the horizon, sunlight becoming fainter and fainter, the newfound moonglow evident by projecting along the concrete, washing it in a somber blue.
Schlatt was close to the house Wilbur lived in, sporting black hoodie and gray sweatpants, he stabbed himself in the foot for kinda resembling the appearance of a thief. He just hoped that pedestrians don't see anything, or call the cops. He was too young for jail, smh.
The house was surrounded by seemingly well-kept grass, green and cut. His legs dragged him by the side of the house, the grass somewhat deafening the sound of his footsteps. He soon realized the home was accompanied with a backyard, noticable with the wooden white fence in the way.
I mean... who has a random fence if they don't have a backyard? Make it, make sense.
"C'mon Wil! One more round! I'll score and win this time!" Schlatt froze, planting himself on the wood to get a better earshot. From the familiar voice, he discerned that it must be Tommy, that means he's his brother... or he's just visiting.
"No! I'm tired and want to go to bed, and the sun is going down and you know I can't see shit." There it was, that heavenly posh british accent, the one that made twists and knots in his stomach.
Schlatt tried to peer through between the old planks of wood with one eye, hands planted on the rough material only to catch a infinitesimal glimpse of the two. He made sure he was quiet, as to not alert the others to think there was a robber.
The sound of a glassdoor sliding open caught his attention, Wilbur must've went inside. "Wait for me dickhead!" And probably that kid as well.
A breath he didn't know he was holding left his lips, shoulders sagging along with it. He glanced up to the top of the fence, stretching out his arms to know if he could grab onto it and crawl over. Yeah, he definetly can, but quietly... maybe not.
This was insane, what was he doing, was he really considering invading someones territory just to see him because he loved him? He was too tentalized by the voice in the back of his head, gnawing him to follow Wilbur, hug him, touch him, kiss him, fuck him, date him. Whatever lovers did, he wanted it.
Jumping as quietly as he could, he hooked his hand on the top of the fence, catching the non-spiky part within his palm. His foot hooked onto it afterwards, pushing himself over the gate and softly loosening his hold to drop onto the grass.
He stood up, dusting off his jeans before glancing around, no one was in view.
Perfect.
Schlatt sneakily stalked over to the end of backyard, the most far away he could get from the house and looked back at it, scanning to find the Britains room.
His gaze caught him, he was in the top right of the house in his perspective. His breath pulled out when he saw that the man was shirtless, he tried to drink in every aspect but the dirty window made it difficult to do so.
He would have to wait for the brunet to sleep before he goes inside, but what if someone else is in there? Shit, he hadn't planned this far, well he shouldn't.
He shook the thought quickly away, noticing that the brunet dissapeared from the sight through the window.
He hummed as he strutted over to the glassdoor, planting his back on the material next to it. His head moved a bit, peeking through the window into the home.
It was.... well it was definetly a home, perceiving a cozy atmosphere from the furnishings and embellishments. In addition to that, no one was in sight, granting him the ability to easily sneak in.
Schlatt raised his hand and grasped the hardware, sliding it open. He quietly stepped in and closed it shut, alert of any noise or movement he heard. All of his actions were done in a silent manner, basically conceiling his existence in this home. Unknowing of the route of the home, he stalked around searching for the stairs.
Eventually he found it, setting his foot on the steps one by one until he reached the first floor.
An abrupt sound of shuffling caused him to tense up, glancing around to pinpoint the direction of the noise. The sound became louder, seemingly inching closer to him.
Panic settled in his gut, fear weighing in on him. Fuck no, he doesn't wanna get caught, he'll go to jail! That's not pog!
Luckily he had enough self-control to move instead of standing frozen still, taking quick yet soft steps towards an ajar door. He opened it and stepped in, gently clicking the door shut.
The shuffling turning into footsteps, light thuds following one another.
The steps stopped and were replaced with an unknown, monotonous voice. "Hmm, I thought I heard someone here."
Schlatt covered his mouth with his hand, somewhat muffling his heavy breathing. Silence drifted between the two, one of them oblivious to the other. He patiently waited for the guy to go away, only just noticing that he was in the bathroom, luckily.
The guy stepped away from the area, going to who knows where. Schlatt let out a relieved breath, grateful that the guy left.
He swiftly yet quietly unlocked the door, walking out and strudding towards the end of the halllway. A door sat at the end, a name plate with 'Wilbur' stuck onto it.
He finally found it, Wilbur his beloved.
His hands subconsciously grasp the handle, clicking it open and sneaking in. He slowly approached a bed, noticing a lump in the sheets.
Schlatt loomed over the unconscious body, soaking in every feature into his memory, his curly caramel hair swooped over his forehead, the small freckles peppered on his cheeks, the porcelain, alabaster skin he wanted to mark, the way his collarbone jutted out so perfectly, the innocent breathing through his pretty pink lips, one's which he wanted to bruise.
He loved every crevice and feature, all with his blooming heart.
It all made him blush, a cherry red blossoming his face and a sweet smile tugging his lips. However, depending on the current circumstances, it was more sinister than sweet.
He brought his hand to his face, lightly brushing away the hair from his eyes. His eyed wrinkled at the edges in admiration, love and enjoyment, the smile on his lips became wider to the point it was almost a grin.
His body was filled with happines, this is all he ever needed, nothing else.
Schlatt froze when the brunet moved, shifting to lay on his back instead of his side, arms set on his stomache. His chest heaved as he breathed, a soft quiet noise leaving him.
God how much he wanted to kiss him, but he couldn't. We all know why. He already broke the privacy of his own home, he wasn't gonna non-consensually kiss him.
But maybe.... just a kiss on a cheek, that wouldn't be so bad right? I mean everyone has had a kiss on the cheek before, would it be so bad?
Slowly, he leaned in, hovering over the sleeping man. His heart raced, hands slightly producing sweat, shakily breathing out.
Was this the right thing? Should he stop? Back away? He knows he should, his mind knows that, but his heart doesn't. Fuck, it was just a small peck on the cheek, nothing too serious, it could be worse.
Yeah.... yeah, it could be worse..... he isn't doing anything bad...
Maybe he's just trying to push away the guilt that's boiling in his gut by using awful reasoning.
He shook his head, continuing to lean in and plant a small peck on Wilbur, immediately moving back after that. His hand raised itself infront of his lips, the pads of his fingers lightly grazing over them.
That... was... amazing, heavenly even. There was no other feeling in the world better than that, he could easily get drunk off of him, do nothing else except kiss him all day. He would never get bored of him.
But, the guilt quickly rushed back in, shame cruelly searing his heart, he felt horrible but he also felt amazing. It was confusing, he didn't like it.
He should leave.
And that's what he did, he quickly stepped over to the window and set his foot on the windowsill, shifting so he was almost fully out but turned back to close the window jump off before going away.
However, he now counted himself a certified thief since he stole a hoodie.