Emotions Gone Ballistic [Whitty x Boyfriend] DISCONTINUED

Intermission

A/N: This and last week, a lack of motivation hit me like a goddamn truck, so I apologize for not uploading despite my promises to upload every Friday (i might just upload every other Friday tbh or go sort of in between weekly and every other week, but still, expect some shit every Friday just in case :D).. so, I put this chapter of whitty's torture together as a little gift or apology so I do apologize if it's shitty but I did admittedly take my sweet ass time with this one and it's longer ._.
Also, rq-

haha funni number
btw, this lil thing is just a quick Whitty x Bf oneshot and it has no play in the story whatsoever. I mean, you could say that it's technically a sort of filler, though there are parts in the story that are quite cannon in my story.
anyways, on with the rest of this bc you prob don't give a shit and you're skimming past the text to get to the story faster, so here you go dipshit <3 ;

The soft sunset over the horizon lit the surrounding city just enough, tinting the windows of nearby buildings and shops that were able to be grazed by the holy light. The sky's hue consisted of a soft mandarin-orange, with distant traces of pink that settled upon nearby clouds drifting aimlessly with the wind. Though they were far, one could believe they would be able to reach out and be able to touch such soft and wispy formations. The beauty of something so simple, yet so complicated such as the setting sun and the cotton balls above was rather inspiring. Moments such as these really made the tall bomb realize how much he never took the time to notice about the world around him.
Whitty was on the 20th floor of the hotel, leaned against the balcony's rails as his gaze danced at the city around him, covered in the comforting and warm glow of the sunset. The soft breeze brushed by him, rustling his baggy hoodie and slightly pulling at the dangling fuse on the of his head. While enveloped in the beauty of the sun's effects on the structures around him, he closed his eyes a little to feel the gentle warmth against his face, the tender sun's energy seeping onto his body through his clothes, and the freshness of the chilly air through his lungs. A long minute of silent enjoyment of these sensations until Whitty turned his head to the sound of the hotel room's door opening and closing from behind him. A small midget had just entered, stumbling back and forth. Boyfriend was covered in a shit ton of plastic bags from various restaurants, cafes and pit-stops around and in the hotel that Whitty had texted him about wanting. The midget's noodle arms were trembling from the weight of each bag, looking about ready to collapse right then and there. Whitty rushed over and helped Boyfriend by taking the bags from his tired arms, to Boyfriend's relief. Whitty laid the bags on the hotel's tables and gave a soft giggle to himself, looking delighted by the aroma from the variety of foods and desserts. Whitty turned a head to look at the other, who threw himself on one of the beds. Beads of sweat dripped from his exhausted face as he began lazily taking off his shoes and suffocating jacket. The bomb snickered and walked to Boyfriend, picking him up from the bed and giving him a small peck on the cheek. The smaller's face flushed with the sudden convey of affection, giving small and embarrassed beeps in response.