Five/Aidan Imagines [BoyxBoy]

Contradictions [SMUT] - Part I

Hey, sorry it took a while for me to post. I have many imagines I want to post for this story, but me being the silly goofy person I am, I decide against it. Hopefully a good juicy ass smut can make up for it.

Yeah, since it's a long one [ha], I have to post multiple parts to it. And don't worry, it's fucking hilarious and is mostly a funny imagine rather than a smut imagine, so you will NOT be bored.

Lmao. Enjoy ig.

Warning: sex, cussing, drug use, blah blah blah what the fuck ever.

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He wouldn't look at me. He wouldn't even meet my gaze. Not after the silent begging to whatever fucking deity that watched us all from above that maybe I would have caught a flashed glimpse of his E/C eyes in the low, dull light of the classroom. But no, not a sight in my vision. A flutter of sparkling hope churned in my stomach at every little shift and movement the boy made in his seat that I inconspicuously spectated through the hand that shielded my eyes. I could have only imagined the look of him once his mind finally mustered enough courage to face me in his wooden seat to smile at me; even glancing my way would suffice my needs. But all I saw was the outline of his well kept hair that framed his strong nose and the sides of his jaw, and I drank him up like it was the last time I would ever stand by him, be in his presence even if it meant the no communication factor.

I knew why he was paying no heed to me. It was obvious; the whole academy's running mouths spread the rumor like children dragging shit inside on their shoes from a long day's worth of playing outside. The mention of the topic could lead me stammering and scrambling for words and quickly tossing a look over my shoulders to see if Y/N was out of ear shot. Everyone knew he wasn't very fond of dealing with the attention either, considering he was the star of the very much true rumor.

I could almost see the way his eyes glistened with rage every time my hopes were fulfilled by earning a glance from him. His E/C eyebrows would crease in the middle and his lips would press into a tight line of exasperation as I stared at him blankly. Or, well, with what I thought was a blank expression. Rather, I received a few gentle nudges from my siblings every other often and a careful whisper in my ear to be careful giving love eyes to Y/N, since he didn't really take the idea of me practically drooling over him lightly.

What? Did I not mention that I had decent standards? Apparently, according to Diego, my standards consisted of stubborn douchebags who smoked a pack a day, pulled off a frat boy look with flashy swagger, and tried every girl inside and outside of the academy walls. Was my brother right? Yes. Did I instantly deny it by shoving him into a nearby wall? Also yes.

Y/N's dirty habits did not phase me. I knew his ways and how he deemed his actions to be acceptable and up to standard with the basic "teenager rebellious acts". I honestly found them dirty and uncomforting, similar to the feeling when you find caked dirt underneath the whiteness of your nails that you can't seem to wash out. His flaws defined his persistent "fuck-me-I'm-cool" demeanor like permanent ink stains, like that was all you could see of him. Though, there was something else I couldn't quite figure out. Like he was a mind trick I couldn't quite solve, yet had the urging ache to. I wanted him to allow me to see into his concealed little world in his head that he always seemed to close off to the rest of the world with obnoxious laughter and obscene jokes about sex. There were these invisible ties of social standards that wound around my throat like a noose I had to cut before it was too late. I wanted to see all of him if only he would ever let me.