DRAG - [h.s. au]

29

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My guessing game is strong

Way too real to be wrong

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BENTLEY

"You fucked this guy!" Harry says, jaw clenched, long sleeved shirt covering his arms all the way to his palms.

"Yes, Harry, I fucked him. Relax. I've fucked people before you, quit being jealous." I snap.

"I'm not jealous." He defends quickly. "I'm just surprised you slept with-"

"With the guy who got Rumer and Zayn into international racing? Yes, I did." I return. "It was a drunk mistake when I was younger."

"How old is this guy?" He asks. "If he's the racing connection then he has to be older... right?"

"He's 32 now, I think. His dad... his dad died and he took over the whole thing after it... He raced before and Rumer helped him, and then that's how Z got into it."

"So what does he have to do with Luna?"

"Not sure how he's involved in the whole drug aspect, but he's the only way Luna, who hasn't raced in years, got into that world." I tell him, and he looks around in thought before standing up at walking to his cabinet, opening it too fast, causing everything to fall out.

I look at the contents that fall and I can't hold back my laughter. Loads of bags full of sour candies fall out and there's even more in the cabinet.

"Harry... what the fuck?" I say, choking on a laugh. "Is that-"

"Yes, it's a fuck ton of candies. Leave me alone." He points, shoving them all into their original place.

"Is that what you eat all day?" I ask. "Harry?"

"I like them, don't change the subject." He returns, grabbing a bag and opening it, walking around the counter and to the couch, where he throws himself down and lies across it. "Are you going to come sit with me or stare at me eating my candy?"

I chuckle once more before standing up and moving towards him, pressing my chest to his and tangling my legs between his. He wraps his arms around my back and rests the bag of candy on the arch of it, exhaling slowly. He pulls back and presents a gummy bear covered in bitter sugar crystals to me.

"Open your mouth." He tells me.

"M'not used to hearing you say that without you spitting or shoving your dick in my mouth." I joke, and he laughs as I stick out my tongue, taking the little red bear into my mouth.

"Good innit?"

"Sometimes I forget you're British... then you go around saying shit like 'innit' and 'bloke'." I say, keeping my eyes on his pretty face, my hand on his cheek as my thumb runs over it slowly.

He smirks, dimple protruding. I had the pleasure of seeing it more than anyone... it would peek out all the time these days... when he looked focused during fucking me, when he'd send me a wicked grin... when he interrogated those guys earlier for me.

My voice had recovered a bit after I forced a few spoonfuls of honey down my throat, and thankfully we weren't speaking too loudly. When we sat like this, our voices were a mere whisper.

We were quiet for a bit, and I turned my head to rest it on his chest as he brought sour gummies into his mouth and my own, and I felt my head rise and fall with his steady breathing.