Pretty Boy [j.l + p.m]

vii

Greedy hands hastily undid shirt buttons as bruised lips parted to let out shortened breaths, while hips grinded harshly onto each other.

Which caused George to hunch his shoulders in discomfort and attempt to take up as little space as possible.

It was naïve of him to actually think Paul of all people would be at a straight club, but he had still hoped that his friend would be here miraculously, and as luck would have it; George was leaving empty handed for the second time in a row.

Honestly, he was running out of options of where Paul could be, which inadvertently scared him.

Because if he couldn't find Paul, then how long would it take for the cops to find his dead body?

"Are you alright?"

George frowned and glanced at the woman leaning against the bar counter, wincing when he noticed how undone she was. Her blonde hair unruly and makeup coming off due to the amount she was sweating.

"I could ask you the same." He mumbled before straightening himself out, finally concluding that Paul wasn't going to pop out of nowhere and come home with him.

Besides, he'll hopefully see Paul tomorrow and he can fix things then, and this extra time gives him more time to craft what he is going to say to Paul.

George pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning on and scanned the sordid crowd, thanking his lucky stars that he hasn't felt the need to go here to find a quick fuck.

Most of the people here were druggies, and George was certain that more than half of the club was high right now.

"Can I buy you a drink?" The woman lightly grabbed his arm and tugged it towards her.

"Listen, you seem nice and all but I've got to go home... Wife's prolly worried sick." George lied and carefully pulled away from her grasp.

The woman smiled sharply at his words, almost as if he offended her, and pulled something out of her pocket before placing it into George's palm. "It's a tab of acid, luv, you should try it sometime."

And when he arrived home, after carefully going upstairs to his room, and sat onto his bed uncurling his left fist did he actually consider what that lady had said.

George shook his head. He couldn't do this dumb drug, his parents would kill him if this drug didn't do it first.

He got up and peeled the drug off of his palm and tossed it onto the ground.

Paul better be fucking alive and well tomorrow.

John, the coward he was, quickly diverted his eyes and cleared his throat after his dumb confession.

Christ, he wasn't Paul's age anymore, he was a grown ass man who shouldn't let every passing thought that comes to his mind be. Paul was trying to pay him back, and- even though it stung a little to know that it wasn't real attraction- he was (shamefully) tempted to let Paul pay him back; John blamed his willingness to let things progress due to the lack of sex since the break of his previous friend-with-benefits relationship he had.

"Can I kiss your bruise then?"

John snapped his eyes up to meet Paul's and raised an eyebrow at him. "Paul, come off it. 'M fine honestly. Doesn't really throb like it did earlier."

Paul stuck his bottom lip out. "Johhhnnnnn, please? For me? It'll make me feel better."

"Please don't force yourself-"

"If you didn't take me here to do anything with you, then why did you propose this?" Paul frowned.

"I just don't... It's unsafe, what you do. I'm not keen on the idea of you ending up dead one day."

Paul scoffed. "So what? You think that you can just box me in? John don't you get it?I'm just going to go back to whoring myself tomorrow."

"You wouldn't." John challenged.

Paul smirked, catching on John's jealousy. "Ah, but I would. I'd get down on me pretty knees and suck like the obedient slut I am."

John gritted his teeth, ridden with drunken lust, and lunged forward. Tackling Paul onto the bed, holding his neck down with his right hand and using the left for support on the bed.

Then, for the hell of it, started to grind unabashedly onto Paul's stomach. "God dammit Paul. Is this how you like to be treated?" John groaned as he felt Paul's nails dig into his back, and tightened his hand around Paul's neck.

"Fuck yes," Paul lifts his chin up, giving John better access to his neck, "Didn't think you were man enough to do it." He hissed.

"Yeah?" John asked, feeling the blood rush to his groin, "I'll show you a bloody man."

John tossed his glasses off behind him, and sat onto Paul's thighs to take off his pull over and undershirt, tossing them back too. "Take that off." John mumbled nodding at the collared white long-sleeve he wore.

Paul eagerly yanked the shirt off of him before throwing it beside him, gripping onto John's forearms and pulled John downward. "Do your worst."

"Mmm. I'd bet you would like me to." John shifted his body down until he was on his elbows with his hips pressed against Paul's, groaning at the friction created from the movement.

"Love it, actually."

John didn't reply as he lowered his head and nuzzled Paul's larynx, pressing a soft kiss onto his Adam's apple, needing a distraction from his dick. "Are you really going to whore yourself out tomorrow?" He asked quietly.

Paul wrapped his arms around John's waist, keeping him in place and sighed. "I can't stop myself. I tried..for you. I'm a lost cause John, honest. I've got a dad who doesn't take care of-"

"Lemme take care of you then. I'll give you whatever you want whenever you want it. All you've gotta do is be mine," John grunted, the mere thought of Paul being just his bringing his attention back to his arousal, "and no one else's."

Paul moaned and let go of his hold on John, instead digging his nails into John's soft sides. "Fuck me John."

"If we had sex now you wouldn't be able to function tomorrow." John bit down on the side of Paul's neck and began to suck a hickey into his skin, relishing the surprised noise that died in his throat.

"John... I-I'll be yours. Promise me something yeah?" Paul asked carefully.

"Anything." John agreed, lifting his head from Paul's throat to look at him.

Paul cleared his throat, and John grinned at the sight of his light pink cheeks. He created the flushed look on Paul's face, no one else. "Promise me that you'll never abandon me?"

"I wouldn't dream of abandoning you, doll."