Im begging on my hands n knees for stalker big brother who peeps on younger brother in the shower n cums on his clothes and insists on walking him to and from each of his classes etc
"Oh, I'm sorry." I feign suprise and sympathy as you enter the car. "Was he a douchebag?" You buckle your belt, not making eye contact. "...He didn't show," you explain. "No message or anything." My heart flutters. The dumb cunt actually listened.
"Why don't we do something instead?" I suggest. That fuck wouldn't have given you a proper first date, anyways. I will. "How about the arcade?" There's reluctance in your movements, so I push harder, imagening getting to touch your arms as I guide you in skeeball. "Come on, the one we went to when you were little. For my sake. Pleeeease?" Finally, I allow myself to break into the smile I've wanted to crack ever since I saw you out the restaurant. It doesn't take much for you to relent.
We take a detour home first. You don't want to play wack-a-mole in a going out shirt. I let my fingers linger as I button up your new one, your breath on my arm and your skin radiating warmth through the fabric. It almost gives me shivers. "You sure you don't want to bathe first?" I try to think of a rational reason to convince you with. "It's summer, you'll get sweat spots on your clothes." Really, that's good advice, isn't it? Who cares if I also want to get another picture out the large, antique keyhole of you in a towel...