in my american apparel underwear

São Paulo | 10.5

"Is it because I’m blind?" Aaron asked simply, swallowing the sobs that were close to escaping.

               "Fuck, no. I'm me alright, it's got nothing to do with you. I'm fucked up and all wrong for you."

               "There's nothing more to talk about, I just can't-- I don't know what you want me to say."

               "Believe me, I won't be coming back."

               ❝ Done, really, I am. And I’m aware of that, just like how your negative connotations never means a thing. Oh, yes, call yourself a name and everything’s over. At least go with shitty bitch. Your dick is actually pretty nice— small, but nice to bounce on,. I’ll admit that. You don’t? Watch you come back to me.❞

               ❝ Alright fine, yeah I'm a shitty bitch. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear? I'm so fucking over all this. If I wanted to fight I'd call up my family or something. I don't need to take this from you. Fuck you. You weren't saying it was small the other night, so again, fuck you. I'm not going to come back, I thought you knew me better than that. ❞

               "Fuck you for making me be the one to do this." Beckham shook his head. But he understood the appeal, he knew the allure the world of drugs and alcohol had better than anyone else. The male slowly reached for his lighter. "How fucked up do you want to get? I mean, we could smoke, swallow or snort." 

                 Sadi smirked towards the male. He let his shirt drop down upon the floor before he removed his pants. He was doing it to tease the other, mainly because he could see him not being able to tear his eyes away.

               "Fucking tease." Beckham breathed, peeling his own clothes off his body and moving in closer to the other. "Stop playing games unless you're going to make me feel good." It was in a soft tone that he spoke, lips moving across the other's prominent jawline.

          “Of course I can handle it! I’ve been drunk, it can’t be that different. It’s only once— please?”

               "This is a prime example of why I shouldn't let you do this, it's not the same thing. Not even slightly. If it was people wouldn't waste their time with drugs and shit getting high, mate. Fuck it, fine. When have I ever been a good influence anyway?"

                            He raised his eyebrow, “Will you now?” He questioned teasingly and chuckled. Then he removed his shirt from his body, before fully making his way inside of the bathroom.

               Beckham smirked as he closed the bathroom door behind him, hearing the faint click. "Yes," He breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the male. Beckham could feel his pants become tighter as he took a step further into the room.

          ❝ Walk away? I’m only waiting for you to realize you are in fact the dumbest bitch I’ve ever spoke to, and I’ve conversed with so many stupid people. I’m being the pussy? Wow, I’m too hurt. Pretty glad that I’m not significant in your life either; I don’t know how I’d deal well with stupidity twenty-four seven. You can fuck me, angry sex is perfect. Need me to what? You’re fucking impossible. ❞

               ❝ Have you finished because in all honesty I don't really give a shit, not a single fuck. What you think has no fucking impact on me in the slightest. Great, I'm a dumb fuck. Glad we've cleared that up, all our problems are solved now. You'd like that wouldn't you? I always knew you loved my cock. 'S why you can't stay away, I don't blame you. I don't need you to do anything, fuck off.❞