He gasps, a short inhale and half-groaning in annoyance, "Shut up! You pee like an eight-year-old," he points to the toilet bowl and I see I'm not entirely aiming in. I open my mouth to say something but he's already shutting the door behind him.
I washed with Lucas's body wash that smelled like warm flowers, and I even thought about using his loofah but that's just unsanitary. Although, I might have done it if he wasn't in the other room where he can easily hear me.
I like how he's always prepared, once on a beach trip he brought a First-Aid Kit. Those big white ones, and because I come from a family that will tape a napkin to a bleeding finger, it surprised me when he said, "You can't swim right? So just in case, you know." Which is something that I had merely mentioned a couple of years ago.
The room is dark when I enter, but I can see Lucas's chest and his hand placed near his groin on his white boxers.
"It's so hot," he huffs, kicking the rest of the covers off the bed. "Check the air," he mutters half-asleep.
I nod, even though he can't see me and I hover my palm over the air conditioner. "I think it's broken." I look at his chest rising up and down, but he doesn't respond.
Settling beside him, I feel more heat radiating from his skin and I hesitantly touch his arm. I slide my finger down, "You're sweating."
"Mm," he flips over and I hold my breath as his nose touches mine. "I know," he whispers against my mouth and something shoots through my body making my eyes close. I pull back, slowly scooting to the edge of the bed almost painfully.
The only light came from behind the dark curtains but it was enough for me to see the outline of his face. Closing one eye, I lift my finger tracing from his forehead, straight nose, and to his kissable lips. They always look so tempting especially when he's pouting or throwing me one of his smirks.
It doesn't happen often but when it does it makes the world go quiet, and my body goes rigid not wanting to blink. We were sitting on his sofa playing video games and because he's so overly competitive I threatened to turn it off. He was stunned when I called him a cheater and without thinking I smiled lightly biting my lower lip, "What are you gonna do about it?"
His frown curved into a lop-sided grin, one that hooded his eyes and for a second I felt my heart lighten. As if being gifted with a slither of happiness.
My eyes fly open, oh no. His face is so close to mine, the tips of our noses touching and I can feel his soft breath against my lips. His arm tightens around my waist and my breath gets caught in my throat as our chests press close together. I turn away slapping my hand over my mouth at the noise that escaped, heat instantly rising to my cheeks at the subtle feeling of our lower halves so close.
Some time through the night my legs have managed to go under his as if I opened them to leave him vulnerable to me. He slightly stirs and my breath comes out hot and wet against my fingers.
Before Lucas left for the university he would sleep over for weeks at a time, I would make sure to put a pillow between us or give him an extra to hold. It was becoming difficult when I would wake up in the middle of the night in his arms with a boner.
He shifts onto his back, one hand on his small chest, and my heart jumps as it slides down his stomach and his fingers touch the waistband of his boxers. The morning light reveals the full hump of his dick as the tips of his fingers poke under and I rush into the bathroom.
I won again at Rock-paper-scissors-shoot and an hour later I'm starving and rolling my eyes at Lucas's banter about how I should ask before taking his clothes. He's referring to the white-buttoned-up shirt he lost a month ago in my bag.
"Your style sucks anyways."
"Then why do you take my clothes? Huh? Whyyy?"
"Comfy clothes," I shrug. "I don't want mine to get dirty." It's a basic shirt, so I didn't think he'd notice.
"Lies," he scoffs. "My style is clean, not something to just lounge about in."
"Whatever," I roll my eyes.
"Whatever."
I scroll through my phone at the red light "Ihop?"
"Yeah."
The familiar two-story white house with a spacious front porch has fruitful trees surrounding it with apples and peaches, causing a sweet smell in the air. I can see the edges of the vegetable garden in the backyard full of cucumbers, tomatoes, and peppers that my mother loves tending to before breakfast.
The warm wind washes away the irritation in the car, leaving us with a comfortable buzz and a light heart.
Lucas slams on the brakes as I open my door, he curses at me as I'm jumping out and sprinting across the field of the front yard. I stumble on a random rock flying into my mothers' open arms, my chin hitting her shoulder. Her green apron is folded twice to fit her five-foot height, I can't help but bury my nose in her thinning curly hair that smells of coconut.
"I've missed you ma," I inhale feeling my throat go tight and an emotion wanting to take over. I haven't seen her in almost six months since I surprised her for her forty-eighth birthday.
I feel her cold small hoop earrings against my cheek as she pulls back, smiling at me with wrinkles at the corner of her dark brown eyes that match mine.
"Yo también Arlito, ¿cómo has estado?" She tells me she misses me too, asking me how I've been.
My back suddenly hits the ground and my vision blurs for a couple of seconds.
"Arlo!" I hear my younger sister Isabella but I feel Christian's weight on top of me.
"Oh!" I groan feeling an elbow jab into my rib, "Aren't you too old for this shit?" I shove at him but the six-foot bear of a man doesn't budge.
Isa jumps onto his back placing him in a chokehold, "Get off him you big bi--" She freezes looking at our mother's raised eyebrow and warning eyes through her dark red dyed hair.
My mom turns to Lucas with welcoming arms, he has to bend down for her to fully wrap her arms. He sighs, closing his eyes and almost melting.
"Lucas, estás bien flaco hijo. ¿Tienes hambre? ¿Has comido?" She looks at him in a manner that would appear judgmental, but she asks him if he's eaten because he looks so skinny.
She narrows her soft eyes, "¿Por qué no me has visitado?" Asking why he hasn't visited her.
He chuckles awkwardly, throwing a glance at me, "Yeah...I'm sorry."
"You're here now, eh," she smiles with a thick accent I look at my siblings and they tell me they've been trying to teach her English. "Let's go," she waves her hand before turning to the house with Lucas following behind with bags in his arms.
Christian feigns to lose against Isa's strength and I fight my way out standing up with a triumphant smile.
"Go! Go! Go!" Isa yells kicking him on his behind with the side of her shoe and he charges at me like a bull. I laugh, turning sharply and Christian almost slips to the ground, running to the house it becomes a race for the front door.
YOU ARE READING
Painful Desires || COMPLETED ✔️
Romance"You said I've always been yours." Arlo Castro is a 19-year-old sophomore at Grand Ridge University who's been in love with his best friend Lucas Cheng since high school. He can't help wanting to stare at his beautiful sharp monolid honey-brown eye...
