Five/Aidan Imagines [BoyxBoy]

NICOTINE AND TEARS - PART I

I'm very aware that I haven't posted a story in a long time, and I am very aware that I am not going to get many views for it. Do I care? Eh. But do I care that I'm probably not gonna get recognition for the shit that I worked my ass off for? NO!

Honestly writing is pretty much an award for me more than anything. So if you don't like it, I don't care. Read something else. But if you like it, I will love you forever. 😃

Enjoy a little taste of Isaac, as he is basically the main protagonist for this little snippet of The Umbrella Academy I scrounged up from their pathetic little lives I created. APPRECIATE IT OR LEAVE!! 🔫

Oh, and by the way, the reason why I was gone for three fucking months was because I was writing a bunch of smuts for you guys. So BE GLAD that I came back with some spicy imagined. I didn't have to if I'd didn't wanna.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

"Are you fucking shitting with me?" an on-edge teenager hissed in my face. A flash of vibrant colors of a bong flailed around with the movements of his arm when he threw it up in utter defeat at my unfortunate news. Though the smoke of the pot seeped deep into his lungs, the tint of his livid face, and even his rotten mind, he was still not impressed by the enlightenment during the session.

My teeth flashed a white smile, and I nodded my head at him after I took a deep hit of mine. "Yes sir, he's paying us a little visit." With the unwavering look on my friend's face, I shook off the tension with a haughty laugh. "Oh my God, we get it! You're about to piss your skin tight chinos 'cause you're so fucking ecstatic to see Klaus."

Isaac rolled his dark eyes with a crane of his neck toward the ceiling. With the angle, there was a clear view of the tacky gold chain necklace he bore around his neck, along with other over-the-top accessories complementing his whole frat boy pull off. Varying from silver rings to bright cross earrings and the loose flannel he let sway and slide with every movement of his shoulders on and off his body carelessly made me want to suffocate him with a nearby handkerchief soaked with chloroform.

The fact that he no doubt glanced at himself in the mirror every morning and thought, "damn, I look like a young version of that sexy Brad Pitt guy", was incredibly idiotic. Sure, sure, I wore shit like that now and then, but not for an everyday sesh with my best friend (and consider the term "sesh", which could vary from many known definitions). In all honesty, he looked like he was hosting a post-graduation party for a crowded mixture of christian grandmas and 18 year old strippers. I found it ridiculous, and he knew it too, considering he had been hearing me bickering about it for around 10 minutes.

My gaze lowered to the planes of his unfortunately bare chest, as he wore nothing underneath that damn flannel, and watched as he rubbed his hand on a mysterious bruise that stretched along the lines of it. How he had earned it was unknown to me, and I sometimes thought that maybe it was a blessing from God that we didn't know everything. "Are you trying to fuck with my life? Every second spent with that clown is time I'll never get back. And the fact that he latches onto me like a toddler that lost their mommy the second he sees me doesn't make it any better."

I shrugged nonchalantly, and slumped against the wooden frame of my bed. "Maybe he likes you. You know he's pan, right? He tends to keep an open mind when it comes to chicks and some guys—"

"So what? I'm bisexual, and do you know what else I am? Not interested. I don't give a flying fuck if he's straight or gay, white or black, Canadian or Taiwanese for all I care! If he acts like everything's made out of cotton candy and rainbows all the fucking time, he needs to get his head out of his own ass and fucking leave me alone! I don't give a shit if he sells pounds of dope a day or that he drop kicked his pet hamster across the living room rather than a baseball—"