Bad Habit

thirty three

As the two boys sat in pure silence, a certain feeling started to arise. Moss felt it, and he was certain Finny did too. It was a mix of utter awkwardness and pure lust— which was kind of a fuck-up of a combination. Moss was torn between getting up, bursting out the front door, getting in his car and driving away towards the sunset, never to look back or see Phineas Lamphrin Jacob Trancy ever again, and pouncing on the boy then and there with every ounce of lust he had in his body. But, of course, he was far too nervous to do either of those things, so he settled with looking down at his shoes while Finny contemplated his own options.

Finny could either ask Moss to kindly leave, or he could do what he had wanted to do when he endeavored over to Moss' house the night he received a beating: Kiss the living fuck out of Moss. And these options were far more realistic, especially because they were Finny's options, as opposed to Moss'. So Finny decided to do the one thing he told himself he'd never do again.

Kiss the living fuck out of Teddy Mosspack.

With everything but ease, Finny dove in, gripping Moss' jaw and directing it towards his own. Within a matter of seconds their lips collided in the most hectic of ways that was unpolished, awkward, and borderline weird.

But it was real, and so neither of them cared about the execution of it.

And soon Finny was on top of Moss' lap, legs spread across the length of his friend. Grasping at Moss' neck for dear life and rutting his hips rhythmically, Finny kissed Moss with all the pent up passion and desire he had felt for the boy over the duration of their friendship. He was sore as all get out, but in the moment, he could not have cared less. In fact, the sharp ache he felt in his chest as his ribs expanded and contracted with each heavy, gasping breath only turned him on more. The pain he felt from his injuries was only complementing the feelings of pleasure deriving from Moss.

Moss, however, was far too worried he was going to break Finny. "Are you— am I hurting you?" Moss managed to choke out in between desperate kisses. Finny moaned loudly and took hold of Moss' wrists, slamming his friends hands onto the small of his waist aggressively.

"Feels so fucking good," Finny muttered, reconnecting their lips hastily. Moss gave in and figured Finny would tell him if he was in severe pain and continued kissing him, feeling him up, and rocking their hips together.

The boys were heating up the entire floor of Finny's small home with their pattered breaths and increasingly loud sounds. But, seemingly just as soon as they began, they were interrupted. Finny quickly stopped kissing Moss and stopped moving against his lap all together to stare intently out the window. A low, faint nose could be heard behind the sound of Finny's breathy voice: "Fuck."

"What?" Moss asked, craning his neck to try and look out the window. He looked back to Finny after noticing nothing unusual, but instantly knew some was off judging by the look of despair on Phineas' face.

"My mom's home," he whispered frantically, "'forgot she was taking me to a doctors appointment today. Shit, uh— just, pick me up, Moss."

"Pick you—?"

"Pick me fucking up and carry me upstairs for Christ's sake, let's go," Finny groaned, smacking Moss' shoulder. With widened eyes and shaky legs, Moss wrapped his arms and hands underneath Finny's thighs as he stood, cradling the boy against him like a baby fucking koala. Slowly but surely, Moss got the pair to the stairs, then inched his way up, foot by foot, second by second. Moss could tell Finny was growing impatient as he looked over his shoulder every two seconds, praying his mom wouldn't walk in too soon.