rereading benanigans and just...
You and Pete are friends with benefits. You'd decided that's all you'd be the first time you had sex, when he told you it would probably be best if it didn't go any further because he's mentally ill and he doesn't want to make his problems your problems. He knows he can be a unreliable sometimes, because sometimes to get better you have to be selfish, and being selfish didn't feel like a good trait for a boyfriend to have (kind of like TKOSI).
"That sounds lonely." you told him
The two of you had spent almost every day together since, just friends... and other stuff. You were both perfectly comfortable with the situation as you found yourself being non-committal at times, too. It seemed like the easiest way for no one to get hurt.
And one day you're hanging out, his friends are over, and its all laughs. Everyone is having a good time, but you're distracted. You've just got off a long day of work where all you could think about was Pete. Pete touching you, teasing you, talking in your ear, helping you relax.
But, of course, his friends were over. They always seemed to be. It wasn't necessarily that Pete wasn't paying any attention to you, because he definitely wasn't ignoring you, he just wasn't paying you the attention you wanted.
He sat on the couch, one leg bent up on the cushion next to him and the other flat on the ground as his torso faced down the length of the couch, laughing at a dick joke, his arm laid on the back of the couch, his hand absentmindedly rubbing the soft material. It was all completely inconspicuous, but after the day you had it was driving you all the more crazy.
You try not to stare at the sweatpants adorning his legs, or think about how good it would feel to wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his sweatshirt while he fucked you nice and slow, your hips lifting to meet his.
Pete's eyes drift from his friend over to you as he laughed, his hand coming up to block part of his smile. His eyes meet yours and when he realizes you're staring his gaze drops to floor, a soft blush covering his features.
"You want something to drink?" He asks, reaching down to grab his own cup before standing, a slew of uninvited drink orders following. You weren't sure if it was a playful dig at you being 'thirsty' (did people still say that?) but, it didn't matter much anyway, because you knew you would follow him to the kitchen for much more than a drink.
"I would've gotten you something, too." He turns his head as he walks, hearing your soft footsteps close behind.
"I know, I just miss you." you respond, turning into the kitchen, which offered little cover, the island bar and cabinets that hung directly above the only thing separating you from the former.
You stand behind him as he prepares everyone's drinks, your arms wrapped around and your head peaking out under his arm to watch as he worked. The island barely rose to Pete's naval, and any of the boys would've been able to see your arms clearly if they chose to look back, so you tried your best to slyly run your hand down his torso until your pinky met his waistband. It took a bit of wiggling, but your hand slid in, preparing to wrap around what you'd been waiting for all day when Pete grabbed you by the wrist, pulling your hand away.
Your gaze rose to his, a small pout on your face as he shifted away, hands filled with an array of drinks.
You wandered around the kitchen, looking for a snack to ease your newfound oral fixation, when your eyes fell on Pete in the other room. He was sat in your former chair, with a perfect view of his friends on the couch, and also the kitchen. Turning, you opened the freezer door, bending down to check if you had more of those ice pops you loved so much. Really, Pete didn't care for them, but he knew you did and so they were on the shopping list every time. It was one of the many sweet things about Pete, and you couldn't think of a better way to thank him than teasing him in front of all of his friends.
Tossing the sticky plastic wrapping into the trash, you leaned forward on the island in front of you, trying to get back into the conversation. Your lips wrapped around the cold tip, an innocent look on your face, trying your hardest look like you were paying attention to the story being told from the couch. You could see from the corner of your eye when Pete's attention fell on you, glancing quickly from where his friend was sat and up to you, before going back again.
Knowing you had his attention, you let the icepop slide further into your mouth and slowly back out again, licking your lips and holding it infront of your face, your gaze never meeting his, instead taking a faux interest in the sweet treat. You pretended to notice it begin to drip, letting your tongue out to lick at the base and back up before sucking it into your mouth once again.
Pete was well aware of what you were doing, and was almost embarrassed at how well it was working. Casually as he could, he slid a pillow that was resting on his lower back into his lap, a small insurance.
I have to go cook dinner booooo responsibilities
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