"I fucking hate you."
"You shouldn't really say things like that when my dick is up your ass, Norris."
Two hot-headed athletes with overflowing rage and unwinding sex drive is very much never a good combo.
Bryce and Ian never see eye to eye on thing...
As the six boys began their journey back home, Asher's van seemed to shrink twice its original size. The cold, looming ghost of winter didn't at all help the hot situation they got going inside, even though the aircon temperature was turned as low as possible. All of them were in the same seats as they were on the way to the lake house, this time with a couple of shirts Blake bought from a guy at the gasoline station that had a variety of corny texts like "there's enough of me for everyone" and "68-ing coz you're the 1 for me."
"I sometimes wonder what the hell is going on inside your head," Emery directed at Blake, who looked up from his phone to throw one random shirt from the pile at him, a red one that says "I'm white and I'm proud." Emery chucked it back at the dark-haired boy, nauseated. "You're Asian."
"It's a shirt," Blake went on. "And I'm half-white."
Emery rolled his eyes, ignoring him, and instead turned to his best friend. "Hammond is gonna kill us."
"He went into the ladies restroom thrice last week, Em," Ian said. "He can't even see his own hands, let alone kill us."
"I'm pretty sure he was a serial killer in his prime days," the redhead retorted. "Who brings a butter knife in class?"
"He's old, Em. He probably thought it was his grabber."
"Who brought all this fucking bags?" Blake grumbled at the back, pushing one of Ian's suitcases off his body.
"You didn't complain about them on the way to the lake house," Ian told him, adjusting in his seat when he felt Bryce move beside him.
Bryce and Ian switched places on the first stop so Bryce can lean his head against the window. He barely spoke since Ian woke him up this morning and immediately passed out when they got inside the van. Ian had noticed that the blond wasn't comfortable with his position sandwiched between Emery and himself, so he woke him up for the second time during the first drive break to trade places.
Sitting in an uncomfortable seat with Bryce's fingers wrapped around his hand under a pile of jackets was all Ian needed to feel comfy in the cramped, noisy van.
"That was before this whole place turned into a freaking birdcage," Blake countered loudly with a huff, pulling a belt bag from under his seat. "A fanny pack? Really Ian?"
"That's not mine," Ian tried to remove his finger to point at Blake, but Bryce squeezed them tighter in an iron grip.
Asher checked his friend through the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes. "That's mine. Will you please stop whining? I'm this close to leaving you on the side of the road."
"You have a fanny pack?" Blake said, almost laughing.
"That's my stepdad's Christmas gift from last year," Asher explained. "I have to wear it from time to time 'cause my mom would kill me if I didn't."
"Oh," Blake nodded reasonably. "So I assume Fred bought you those crocs, too?"
Asher glared at him through his reflection. "I bought those."
In Blake's defense, I might have been (metaphorically) high writing this extra.
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I post stupid stuff like this on Patreon, and there are more pages of Blake's mini-diary if you're interested ^^ I kn0o0w I promote it way too much LMFAO >_> a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do (ಸ‿ಸ)
