ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ ʙᴏʏ ⁽ ᵃᵘᵗᵒᵖˡᵃʸ ⁾

         ❛    YOU’RE DRUNK.     ❜   he’ll laugh, of course. there is nothing more he can do. for in the moment, ira has him shocked. eyes wide  &  brows narrow. bewildered in thought. perplexed in the drought with its choking hold wrapped around his slender throat. it is not a quenchable thirst, you see  &  it hasn’t been for a long time. miles could feel himself DROWNING. slowly sinking as the space that occupied their beings filled its crevasses with that of an uncertain love. lust.both of which terrified him with their unpredictable behavior. a sigh.  

                                                      ❛    i’m not looking for your sympathy anyway,     ❜         a pained grunt in response, the noise brash, yet layered under the quiet he forces upon himself to lessen his headache ;          were he to speak louder, he might just find it   UNBEARABLE.            but of course, miles always seems to know the cure.            easing out a softer, sweeter noise in response, the blond dulls, harsh edges filling out in his rounded face ;             thick lashed lids close daintily.

❛    butter fingers,     ❜             comes the mumble.         perhaps even a chuckle.              ❛     ——–      please don’t ever stop doing that.     ❜

❛        ——————-       i hope you aren’t expecting anything in return, mew mew.     ❜

                    ❛   JUST SHUT  your mouth and take the damn shoulder massage  ---  god, you’re tense ... ❜   he means the knots in ira’s neck,  of course,  as the pads of fingers press hard into flesh  ;   hard enough,  in fact,  to leave white spots in place of fingers once they’ve moved.  when it comes to ira miles always made the effort.  that’s what good boyfriends do.  he’d lower his head   &  gently kiss the nape of his neck   ---  soft, like his own lips.  just one kiss, for now.  tonight was about ira  &  ira alone. 

❛   i expect some form of GRATITUDE,  at least and i have to stop sometime --- lucky for you i just woke up a few hours ago and i’m full of energy.  ❜   he laughs.    

                          ❛   . .  .    yer’ a strange one, y’know tha’ ?  ❜        though, who is oscar to deny it?      he’s perplexed by miles.        there is something entirely coquettish about his charm, that seems stitched into a flush of storms  &  poor weather  ;      he strikes oscar as someone    ACHING   for comfort.         you see, oscar’s quite the same  ;        always looking for someone to sweeten the honey !    &  what’s wrong with that ?      (  just as long as he doesn’t squeeze them too tightly, or let his   TEETH   come out too    MONSTROUSLY.   )

❛   well, ye’ll ‘ave plenty a’ time ta’ tell me ‘em the morns morn.    ❜        he means, miles will be able to tell him more pick up lines tomorrow morning. he’s being crude deliberately,  &  buttering it up with his home dialect’s not really doing anything in his favour.       chuckles.

❛   ah’m kiddin’, puddin’, ah’m kiddin’.    relax.     i’m bein’ awful.     ❜       pauses.           ❛     y’can tell th’ big nasty man ta’ stop if he goes too far, n’ he will.     ❜       he means himself.

          ❛  STRANGE, YES.  why wouldn’t i be?  being normal is --- what’s that cliche? being normal is boring? something like that.    ❜   remarked with amusement,  he playfully nudges oscar giving something of a certified wink in the process.  ever the master of his own flirtatious games,  miles would smirk  &  very nearly fight the urge to step forward in interest.  hands rest on his hips  &  he’ll shift his weight onto the right side of his body.  pursing his lips together to which he’ll let them go with a pop. 

❛  oh, there will be plenty of time in the morning,  but only once i’ve made you coffee,  breakfast in bed,  and maybe after i’ve given you something else ...   ❜   for now,  he’ll leave that to oscar’s imagination.  it’s part of his charm, you see.  if he remained mysterious, mischievous,  &   sexy he could keep an audience hooked.  oscar,  as miles could already tell,  was hooked. 

WARM-HEARTEDLY,    the man who stands near behemoth to the other, will coil an arm around his waist somewhat sneakily;  tugs him into the bear-shape of his body. it’s only the pub. nobody’s gonna mind.  &  even if they did, is it in anyone’s agenda to piss off a man so large as he ? indicating to the numerous glossy bottles  &  tankards behind the bar, he settles mentally on a whiskey. it’s friday. he’s allowed.

              ❛       what’ll it be, kitten ?        ❜

@SOLLITARY

                   MILES COULDN’T remember a time in his life when lips curved into a smile every day.  in fact, he’d begun to notice a pattern.  approximately each week day around six’o clock he’d find himself watching the door  ----  waiting for the creaks of its hinges to announce the arrival of his boyfriend  ...  and there’s that smile.  the pet name has even now created a giant one displayed across his face,  all thanks to the man towering above him in their embrace. he couldn’t remember a time in his life when someone treated him to a proper drink  ----  let alone held him as oscar often did.  inching on his tip toes, a kiss is pressed to oscar’s fuzzy cheek before coming down  &  pointing to his desired taste waiting on the shelf. 

me:

me:

me: