Boy toy

8

"And what does that mean?" I chuckle. "It just looks like it would be yours," he shrugs. I roll my eyes.

"Get out so I can change," I tell Noah. "Nah," he responds, "it's nothing I haven't seen before."

I roll my eyes, stripping my shirt. I feel his eyes tear into my back. I take of my pants, changing into black shorts. "Are you ever going to stop staring?" I ask, turning around. "Nope. Absolutely not," he chuckles, wrapping his arms around me.  "Let me put my shirt on," I chuckle. He loudly whines, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Let me go, I need to put my shirt on," I explain. He rolls his eyes, holding me tighter. I peck his cheek, before prying his arms off of me.

I slide on an oversized orange shirt. He groans, practically sobbing at the loss of my touch.

"You're such a big baby," I sigh, ruffling his hair. I have to reach up, due to his height. "Shortie," he chuckles, placing a hand on my head.

I cross my arms and turn away from him. I huff, beginning to pout. Noah chuckles, hugging me from behind. "And you call me a big baby," he chuckles. I loudly huff.

He pecks my neck. "Issac, I'm sorry," he says in a whines tone, "Don't be like this."

"Be like what?" I scoff. "Mad," he sighs. "I'm not mad," I huff. "Yes, yes you are," he murmurs. "And I have every right to be," I murmur under my breath.