Loving Another (Drit)

Chapter 8

Screw it. If I get 150 views I'll do the lemon. I'm a bit stressed at the moment. I'm going to call you guys my foxes! Contains fluff!!

"Whit?" He called, only being replied by the same voice, but it sounded like his name, slurred. Drake listened to the closed doors, unsure which was Whit's room. He finally heard the voice behind one, and very softly, and slowly, Drake began to open the door. His eyes widened when he saw Whit--

Crying. Whit was bawling. Drake frowned and walked into the room and got up on the bed, and wrapped his arms around Whit, who's sobbing seized in surprise.

"Child, why are you crying?" Drake asked, refusing to let go. Whit looked to Drake, who's chin was rested on his shoulder, looking at him in concern.

Whit turned around and hugged Drake back, "I'm so sorry!" He whimpered as he hugged him tightly. "I'm really sorry for... That...! I don't know what was running through my mind!" He spilled, gripping onto Drake's shirt tightly. Drake sighed lowly, and then laid back, taking Whit with him.

"It's okay," Drake said in a soft tone. Whit wiggled up beside him, putting his head on Drake's chest, crying. Drake wrapped his arms around Whit tightly once more, smiling warmly. "Sleep, you need it." Drake moved Whit's hair out of his eyes with a gentle finger, and Whit blinked gratefully, his eyes wet with tears. He set his head back on Drake's chest, letting go of Drake as he fell asleep.

Drake smiled, kissing Whit's forehead lightly with a deep blush. Red bubbled onto Whit's sleeping face, and Drake purred lowly. What is this strange feeling? I-It isn't... Love... Is it?

Then he fell asleep.

---

Weak sunlight filled the room, waking Drake. He looked around, realizing he wasn't at home, no, but at Whit's. And Whit wasn't there. Though the mouth-watering smell of bacon and eggs hit his nose. Drake got up, and stretched, his arms lifting high above his head. He walked over to the door and began to make his way down the hall to the stairs, the smell making him lick his lips. He wandered down the stairs, the stairs creaked softy under his weight.

"Good morning-- evening, whatever, sleepy head! Sleep well?" Whit asked with a sly smile. Drake nodded, not catching the smile as he rubbed an eye. "I sure did." Whit purred.

"Mmm, why? Did you have a dream or something?" Drake asked, walking up behind Whit and resting his chin on his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist. Whit nodded, scrambling the eggs. "Hmm... What was it about?" He asked, moving his head so instead of his chin on Whit's shoulder, it was his forehead.

Whit's face went a light red, "N-Nothing." He replied, though his voice was a bit shaky. Drake raised his head, letting go of Whit, confused.

"Huh... Would this 'nothing' cause you to stutter?" Drake asked, his hot breath on Whit's neck. Whit froze, the dream replaying on his mind. But he ignored the question and resumed making breakfast. He put the food on the plates, pulling out forks and setting them down.

"Tell me," Drake grabbed Whit and spun him around, which caused his finger to get cut on the counter. Whit whimpered, lifting his finger to lick the blood, but Drake beat him too it. Whit shivered, watching him. "Tell me now." Drake lifted his head, holding Whit's hand in his.

"It... Uh..." Whit mentally smirked. "It went like this," he pushed Drake against the counter and leaned up, kissing him. He was so turned on now. Drake gasped in surprise, then melted into the kiss. Whit's hand snaked up Drake's shirt, and he flinched by his cold touch. Whit smiled, then slid Drake's shirt off, exposing his built and powerful chest and abs.