"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...
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The poor redhead boy tossed and turned on his bed, having not one ounce of sleep since his body made contact with the sheets, not only annoying Blake to death, but also resulted in him getting kicked out of the room in the middle of the night.
I bet they're fucking right now.
He spent an hour lying wide awake on the cramped wooden sofa as he stared outside the window, his own traitorous mind picturing sinful acts that Ian and Bryce were probably doing in their room right now. Emery hated himself for walking close to that door. Had he just minded his own business, he wouldn't be stuck in this fucked up dilemma he was having right now.
God, did they do it in school?
As he tried to answer the question, Emery grew even more restless. His eyes widened, feeling his brain explode into pieces as the events from the past three months replayed in his head. He felt like he was brought back to when he was fifteen when he found out that Heath Ledger was long dead and cried about it for a week straight, as everything fell into place.
3 months ago
"You're acting weird," Emery said as he looked over to where Ian stood, seemingly out of it.
Ian blinked several times before touching the tip of his nose. "No, I'm not. You're acting weird."
"What happened to you?"
"Nothing," Ian answered quickly. " Em, do you remember that one time your mom caught you smoking weed?"
"That was you."
"Say it was you..." The brunet rambled on. "...and uh, you swore to yourself that you're not gonna do it again, like you really, really, decided that you won't, and you agreed with yourself that it's a real bad idea if you did it again but then you realize... you don't hate the idea of smoking weed. Every time you see the weed, it just... makes you wanna smoke weed again. And maybe, I don't know, you think it's not so bad to do- smoke that weed again, you know what I'm saying?"
Once he was finished talking, Emery threw him a vacant look.
"I really don't," he said. "Are you smoking pot, Ian? You don't have to lie to me."
"No! I..." Ian pulled a disgusted look. "It's a metaphor."
"For... weed?"
"Emery."
"Hm." Emery didn't look convinced, but he shrugged as he added, "Don't do it."
"What?"
"You're comparing it to weed, dude. Whatever it is, it's clearly bad for you."
Ian looked vacantly at him before sighing as he closed his locker shut. "Yeah, maybe you're right."
