Maxxie: weak spots and clothes stealingMature

Y'know when you can't decide whether you want to whine like a kid and throw a tantrum or just hit something?

As the words "Actually, I wouldn't mind going to the store," fell out of his mouth dripping false innocence that was pretty much how I felt.

On the outside, it was a different story. After a moment where I let how I feel slip onto my face (and the expression on his own face was one of utter triumph), I smile and brush the whole thing off. Despite the urge to pull the bastard back down and make him pay for teasing me so bad. It's like he's testing my limits or trying to find out what turns me on... or something along those lines. I'm betting he doesn't like that I found his weak spot so quickly when he hasn't found mine yet.


He has found it, he just doesn't know it.


"You can pay for my soda then," I mutter, linking my hands behind my head so I can look up at him from where I'm sprawled on the bed easily, "least you can do for toying with me like this."

"You know you love it really," he winks, "and I think I can splash out on a soda for you." I push myself up and stand close to him, my hands on his hips so that my fingers are pushing under the elastic of his boxers slightly.

"Well I'd hope so, considering I'm your boyfriend now," I murmur in his ear and he hums lightly.

"Say that again."

"I'm your boyfriend now," I smile, planting a tiny kiss on his ear lobe, reluctantly pulling away.

"It sounds even better when you say it. And, uh, you can borrow one of my shirts if you can't find yours. I'm not exactly sure where it ended up..." my smile, I have to admit, only seemed to get wider at the prospect of sharing clothes. I don't know about you, but there's just something about sharing clothes with your boyfriend that feels good. Or maybe that's just me...?

"I might need some looser jeans, too," I mutter dubiously, glancing down at the glaringly obvious boner that's unfortunately refusing to leave. Cay sighs jokingly and half smiles.

"I don't think I'll be much help in that department. I swear only girls jeans fit me."

"Useless boy," I mutter, cuffing him round the back of the head playfully before pulling on my jeans and attempting to arrange my jeans and a random shirt from the floor to look like it's maybe just a crease in the fabric or something...

I'm failing, by the way.

As I'm attempting to make it look like I don't have a raging hard on trying to break through my jeans, Cayden pulls a kicked puppy face at me, acting all hurt and upset. I can see him trying to hide a smile, though.

"And there I was thinking you were here because you liked me when all you wanted to do was steal my clothes."

"You have sexy clothes," I grin, giving up on arranging my jeans and turning to hug him loosely, my hands linked in the small of his back, "but I think they look better on you. As for liking you..." I wink, and kiss him firmly, "you'll do." British humour. I hope he gets it.


The End

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