THE BOTTOM
“No, you are not,” I dismiss him, “Shut up.”
“But I am,” he has this extremely annoying smirk on his face and I kind of feel like punching him right now.
“You are not a top because…” I frown as I try to read his expression. Is he kidding or is he not? He has to be kidding, “I’m a top.”
“Well, me too,” he laughs, “What is this reaction I’m getting?”
“You can’t be a top,” I roll my eyes at him, “Look at you. Everything about you screams bottom.”
“Hey,” he warns me, “I could say the same thing about you.”
“What?” This guy is seriously on crack or something. I’m like the first picture that pops out if you google image the word Top. Just try it.
“You look kind of bottomish to me, bubu,” he tries to kiss me again but I put a hand on my mouth to stop him, “You look offended, this is supposed to be a compliment.”
“No, it isn’t,” I walk away from him, “You are kidding, you have to be kidding.”
“I’m not kidding,” his annoying laugh is starting to piss me off. I start to walk faster because my throat feels dry and I need a drink.
The tourist gets closer to me and hugs me from behind, “I’ll top you,” he whispers to my ear.
“Ew!” I yell as I free myself from his bottom guy arms, “You are a bottom. End of discussion.”
“Are you?” A random guy asks and we both turn to him with huge frowns on our faces, “A bottom? Call me if you are,” he winks at the tourist and I feel blood rushing rapidly through my veins.
“Hey!” I warn the random dude, looking as threatening as I possibly can, “Do you mind leaving us alone?”
“Whatever,” he shrugs, “I’d take good care of you, little boy,” he doesn’t even look at me, his eyes are fixated on MY tourist and I’m seriously about to jump over him.
“You seriously need to leave right now,” I tell him, clenching my jaw and fists to show him that I’m ready to take him down if he keeps going. How dare he calling him little boy? I’m the only one who can call him that.
“Don’t get jealous, mate,” he tries to calm me down, “I can top both of you.”
“What the hell?” I walk to him, decided to empty my rage on his stupid US American face. This is exactly what the problem with Yankees is. They think they can just come and take whatever they want. Guess what? Bum has an owner and that would be me.
“I’m so, so sorry,” a very tall girl stops me, “He is just too drunk. I’m really sorry.”
“Let him!” the drunken thief yells as his friends drag him away from us, “I’ll finish him.”
“It’s alright,” the tourist grabs me, “We’ll just go.”
“Thank you so much,” the girls answers and walks away but turns around a few steps later, “Just keep it down. The whole street knows that you are arguing over who will top tonight,” she winks at us.
“No, we are not,” the blush on my face is starting to burn.
“Take turns or something,” she waves and runs to catch her friends.
“How dare she? That’s so disrespectful,” I still can’t believe what just happened, “Take turns. Who takes turns?”
“Oh my God,” the top wannabe is trying not to laugh but I can see how amused he is by all this.
“What you laughing at?” I give him a disgusted glare.
“Nothing,” he shrugs, “I should be offended, you know? But this is actually turning me on,” he tries to get closer to me but I walk faster.
“Sometimes your jokes are not as annoying as I make you think,” I tell him, “I even laughed at them a few times but this one is not funny at all.”
“I ain’t joking.”
“You are not a top,” I repeat, “You can’t be a top. God gave you that butt for a reason, you know?”
“I know,” he laughs, “Just so pretty boys like you can hold on to it while I thrust.”
“What the hell?”
“Sorry, it’s probably the wine, I’m usually not like this.”
“Well, I don’t like this version of you,” I turn around to walk faster.
“Why are you like running now?”
“I need to get a drink,” I answer, “Forget about the Tequila muffins! I need shots and vodka, and something even stronger.”
“Calm down,” he is walking as fast as I am because he is right next to me, “Can we talk about this?”
“I need a drink first,” I say and we stay in silence for a while. I can tell he is looking at me and, I don’t even know why, but the bitch is enjoying this whole thing a lot. “How dare you?” I stop the walk and I accusingly shake my head.
“How dare I what?” he is still smirking. I guess his face needs to get high fived right now.
“How dare you acting so bottomie all this time? You lied to me!”
“I’ve never said I was a bottom.”
“But you’ve been acting like one since we met,” I spot two Asian girls walking by us with two big glasses of caipirinha on their hands, “Hey!” I call them.
“Yeah?” one of them turns around.
“20 bugs for your drinks,” I tell her.
“Come on,” he tries to stop me.
“20 dollars,” I speak very slowly just in case their English is not good, “For your caipirinha,” I grab the money for my wallet and I give it to her.
“Make it 50,” the other girl interrupts.
“50? That’s way too much,” I frown.
“50 or nothing,” she seems determined, “Deal?”
“Whatever,” I take the extra 30 dollars and I give it to her, “I feel robbed but whatever.”
“And I feel very discriminated every time someone talks to me as if I were dumb just because I’m Asian. Every one speaks English nowadays, you dumbass,” she snaps her fingers at me and turns around to walk away.
“Gotta love a Ghetto Asian,” the tourist handles me the cup and I start drinking non stop until I empty it, “Wow! Calm down, seriously.”
“Let me, I’m depressed,” I say as I take the second cup and do the same, “Now we can talk.”
“I was thinking one of these cups would be for me but never mind,” he says, “How was I acting like a bottom? That doesn’t exist.”
“But you knew all along. I’m a top! You should have warned me from the start, now it’s too late.”
“What is it late for?”
“I like you now, asshole,” I feel how alcohol is starting to eliminate shame from my body. This is not going to end well.
“I like you too, bubu. Nothing has changed.”
“I wouldn’t have started to like you if I knew we wouldn’t be able to take the next step,” I continue, “Sex is important for me, okay?”
“It is for me too.” Is he is teasingly moving his hips in a sexy way or is it just the caipirinha? I’m not sure.
“I’m not going to let you fuck me,” I state, “I’m a top. I was born to be a top. That’s my thing, that’s what I’m good at.”
“Everyone’s a top until they try the other thing,” he winks.
“Can you stop joking around? This is serious,” I raise my voice, “We have a serious problem here.”
“It’s not a problem, come on,” he shakes his head, “You are overreacting.”
“But seriously,” I pout, “Please? I’m really good at it. I just want to show you how good I am. It’s like my only talent.”
“Aw, bubu,” he gets closer to me and hugs me.
“Please don’t make me bottom,” I say against his neck, “Because I’d do anything for you and I don’t want to be a bottom.”
“Aw,” there he goes again, “You are so sweet.”
“Is that a yes?” I let go from his hug to stare at him.
“You should remember this, you know?” he changes the subject, “You don’t see it right now but this is high quality comedy, good stuff. I’ll help you remember this scene and you will write it down because this is funny as hell.”
“It’s not funny!” I cut him off, “I’m suffering here!”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he bumps my arm, “You silly bottom.”
“Shut up!” I yell and then I start to laugh, he joins me just a second later, “Why did I drink so fast? The world is spinning like crazy and I need another drink before I faint.”
“We need to do something about your drinking,” he says, “You can’t drink this much. Not without me, at least.”
“Let’s go to the bar then, we’ll get you wasted and then you won’t remember you are a top anymore.”
“Nice try,” he pushes me playfully.
“I had so many things planned, so many positions we could have tried,” I start to rumble and I really wish someone could put an end to my self humiliation, “Your size is perfect for the things I had in mind.”
“Stop it, I can’t,” he laughs really loud, “I never said I wouldn’t do it.”
“That means you will?” I get excited.
“That means that we can switch around, that’s what couples do,” he answers.
“Aw,” I say without thinking about it. Shit!
“You said Aw!” he stands up and points his silly finger at me, “That’s so gay!” he emphasizes the sentence just to piss me off.
“Says the Queen of Gayland,” I give him an annoyed look, “Who surprisingly happens to be a top.”
“I’m full of surprises, Harold,” he smirks, “What was that Aw for?”
“I don’t remember,” I lie.
“Come on, I know when you are lying.”
“You said ‘That’s what couples do’,” I take a deep breath, “Are we a couple now?”
“It’s too soon to put a label on it,” he gets closer to me and caresses my hair, “I don’t need a label yet, do you?”
“Me neither,” I like him so damn much when I’m drunk. Look at him, he is so pretty.
“We are just lads being lads then,” he says.
“Touché,” I stare into his eyes for a little while, “I need to ask you for a favor.”
“Whatever you want.”
“When the time comes,” even if I’m drunk, I’m ashamed to say what I’m about to say, “Please, let me be the one who asks the question.”
“What question?”
“You know,” I sigh, “Do you want to be my…” I stay quiet because it’s too soon to even say the word. Just remember one of Justin’s singles and you’ll know what it is. Not that I’m a fan of Justin or anything. I just remembered the song. Shut up.
“I think I know what you mean,” he gives me the sweetest smile.
“Promise it,” I say, “Promise that you’ll let me be the one who asks it. I need that to feel I’m still a man. You’ve been hurting my masculinity a lot lately.”
“I promise,” he pecks my lips.
“Good,” I stand up, “Let’s get you wasted now.”
“Let’s go,” he grabs my waist to help me walk. I’m not that drunk but there’s something about the Brazilian air that makes my balance weak.
“Oh my freaking God,” I stop, “I just had a revelation!”
“What is it?”
“Your ex!” I yell.
“What? Is Niall here?” he looks everywhere to see if he sees him, “Please don’t say he is.”
“He is not,” I say, “But how did I not think of this before?”
“What are you saying?” he frowns.
PLOT TWIST: The hottie is a bottom. Damn!
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