finally; an oasis in this wasteland

he doesn’t have much time to himself. with school, work, and the extra hours put in so that he could have the future he always sought out for himself, there was little to no time for cameron to relax and just enjoy the present time as it was. so a night in the bookstore with a novel in his hands, delved into a well-written story for the past hour or so was something he treasured – something he didn’t want disturbed. so of course he raises his gaze with a less than welcoming expression, eyes evident with annoyance as he greets the stranger with disinterest. ‘ —- that’s nice. ‘ it’s all the person’s getting and that much already is a more gracious reply than cameron felt necessary to give. his gaze flickers back to the page he was on, moving to more comfortably adjust himself with the book hidden behind his bent legs that were drawn up on the chair. 

       well then. that’s never happened before. the frown       is there for less than a second before he’s straight-       ening himself out again, throat clearing as he lets       out an almost wounded sound. handling rejection is       something baz knows absolutely nothing about, be-       cause his face never lets him down. what is wrong       with this boy? his fingers wrap around the smooth       wood of an empty chair just as he decides to try ag-       ain. “  — i uh. i was wondering if you could help me?       you do work here, right?” forcing someone to spend       some time with him is probably a bad way to go ab-       out it, but his morals are clearly lacking and the boy       should know this. his face changes in an instant —       going from doe-eyed and interested to only slightly       irritated, eyebrows raised as he waits for the other       to answer his question.

He steps to the side, lets him sit down and at the question, his brows raise. “Erm…” he pretends to think about it, a smirk forming on his face. “No.” He moves to wipe down another table, back towards Baz as he leans over the table, ass on display. He looks over his shoulder as innocent as possible as if he doesn’t know what he’s doing. “You know what you want yet?”

Baz watches closely and realizes, upon further inspection and the smirk on Nico's face he is absolutely doing this on purpose. Not that it really matters, as long as he gets to keep the view. His eyebrows raise as he stares openly for a few seconds before snapping himself out of it, eyes on Nico's face again. "How 'bout some sugar?"

It was a rather quiet afternoon, only two customers currently occupying the room besides Nico himself. He’s wiping down a table near the door, looks up when he hears the bell ring, wanting to go in for a normal, friendly greeting when he sees who it is. “Hi,” he stands up right, throwing the clot over his shoulder while he gives Baz one of his happiest smiles. “Can I get you anything?”

Baz returns the smile immediately, can't really help it as he approaches the boy casually and sits down in one of the free booths. "I don't know." he says, clasping his hands together on the table before leaning back and looking up again, eyebrows raised. "Is it on the house?"

It becomes clear to him that English isn’t his first language, and although he can tell it’s not exactly easy to understand entirely what he’s saying, it’s fairly admirable. “It’s okay…” He chuckles softly, almost sheepishly. His hand presses against the back of his neck. He doesn’t want to startle or annoy the other male, and so he’s fairly unsure about what else to say. Particularly since there seems to be a fairly large language barrier. “That’s okay.” He decides to speak a little slower, not in a way which offends,  or patronizes ; just so the words are clearer and easier to  comprehend. “Uh —What are you doing right here?” He asks,  might not be an appropriate question, or any of his business but he can’t help but be intrigued by it all. Someone who can’t speak English very well, in a library of all places. “Trying to make your English better…or something?” 

He's grateful for the careful pronunciation, he doesn't think he would really be able to understand much had the other spoken normally like the people he's encountered so far. This way, Baz can understand every word that's being spoken to him, although he has to take the embarrassing route of watching the other's lips move whilst forming words. He scratches at the back of his neck when he's done and nods once, chin tilting towards the book in his hands as he struggles to speak. "Yes..." he manages finally, closing the pages together and setting the book down onto the floor next to him. He doesn't bother getting up, but the wariness has been replaced with intrigue as he eyes the boy carefully. "It's my first time in English but I probably stay a  while." 

Archie knows that she’s not one for settling down, respects  it and it’s  not something he’s exactly taken to fondly, or as naturally as he’d  have  liked to. This was proof of that very fact. He sometimes wonders if things would be different, if Baz’s perception on being with  somebody,  wavered. It  was a dangerous thought to think on for too long. He’d always assumed it to  be impossible, perhaps that’s one of the reasons he’s  still  with his  girlfriend, and  he  does  care  about  her, and she  does try —Which is  another  thing which makes  Archie feel fairly guilty about it all. Still,  he wasn’t  about  to  stop himself anytime soon. It’s then, when she threatens  him that  he   does  allow for his index finger to trail against her clothed center, pressing against her. His lips press against her neck still, teeth tracing against her skin, leav -ing marks where  possible. “You’re such a tease,”  he growls —His  middle  finger  pressing  against her  also,  trying  his  best to feel  what  affect  he’s having on her, through the clothes. 

She's heard this before and  it  doesn't  come  as  a  shock of any sort,  because that had sort of been  her  intention  all  along.  She  came  to his house with a purpose and wasn't  about  to  blow  the  act  anytime soon for anyone's sake. She wishes the  second she feels his fingers on her the layer of clothes separating them  would just disappear, but it seems like a long shot so she whines instead  — a filthy sound that does nothing if not tell him exactly what she  wants  right  now.  Truth be told and no matter what she makes Archie believe,  he's  been  the only one for a long while  now.  It's  understandable  that  they  are not in a relationship but it's  becoming  harder  and  harder  to  forget  that, and she's beginning to feel as though she needs  to  pull  away  before they take it too  far.  "Just  —  Take  this  off  me  damn  it." she growls lastly, her frustration  clear  before  she  falters  a  bit.  "But  don't rip it alright? Cost me a fortune."

He needs her, every single fragment of her. He doesn’t even know where to begin. He’s greedy, that’s for sure. Turning her over, so now he’s hovering over her he plants her against the couch, allowing his lips to collide with hers. Archie knows this is wrong, and he’d always credited himself on his faithfulness but now that had all turned to shit because of her, she was worth it though. Worth the guilt, worth the risk. His hands take a hold of hers and pins them back against both sides of her head. “You do huh?” He breathes out heavily, eagerly as a smirk continues to make itself present upon his brims. His fingers trail against her chest, and along her stomach - before missing out the place he wanted to touch most, and was sure she wished to be touched most too —Teasing her in the most wicked of ways as digits now trail against her inner thighs. “You want me to mark you then?” He practically whines it against her neck, as he’s leaving sloppy kisses on her skin all the while. “Want me to show you exactly who you belong to, Princess?” 

She belongs to nobody,    is the thing,   which is why she is bothering with a taken man in the first place.         Being tied down was never something  she took pleasure in, but that's only speaking figuratively, of course. She doesn't bother taking the lead again  when his question comes,         back arching a ridiculous amount  as  her reddened lips part before her tongue has the chance to help form the  words.           "You can do whatever your little heart desires, Daddy."           she hums before she's leaning forward  again and running her tongue over his bottom lip,              barely touching.  "Just do it before I lose my patience and take care of it myself."         She  wouldn't dare, they both know, but the threat is well and alive,      hanging in the air quickly just as she eyes him in challenge.    "Don't think I won't"

cameron looks at his clenched fists, noticing how they trembled slightly from what he’s guessing lack of food. he’s forgotten to eat that morning, or maybe he’s spent more time looking at the mess before him than he thought. he’s beyond tired and his head is starting to hurt from either missing breakfast or the accumulation of stress he’s under. this is the longest break he’s had so far, he notes, and he lets out a soft sigh. “i just met her a year ago, she’s not my mother.” baz is irritating him now, making him wish the other would just go back to dating vera or whatever he did in his spare time. “could just call her,” he mutters as he gets up, wiping the back of his pants off before going off to find the mop.

he shrugs his shoulders carelessly, doesn't really know how to tell the other he doesn't care much for the relationship he has with the woman who baz has only seen a handful of times, each of which she's had her hand down his pants at one point in the evening. he stays quiet instead and watches the boy go from pained to irritated in a flash with an  interested expression on his face. "ah yes, of course. phones. didn't cross my mind once." he lies with an innocent face, pushing himself up to sit on the counter while he waits for cameron to calm down a bit. truth be told, he was actually just interested in him in general, wanted to see why exactly it was he despised the woman who provided him  with such a cushy lifestyle.

there’s nothing that gets him more furious than hearing those words, a flood of emotions and memories hitting him of his real mother — the person who actually loved and raised him like a parent was supposed to. now he wants to break everything in the perfect house, wants to hurt vera just like she continued to hurt him with such indifference. “she’s not my mother,” he answers with a tight jaw. “and you’d have a better fucking idea.”

the boy's reaction comes as a bit of a shock, but nothing he can't quite dismiss easily, a smirk appearing on his lips as he downs his glass and sets it on the counter without a single sound. "whatever you say." he mutters, seemingly accepting cameron's little outburst without great difficulty as he continues his questioning. "well, i don't. that's what i came in here to ask you in the first place. we were supposed to go somewhere."