Repair | Bexey x Lil Peep drabbles

t h r e e . t w o

(KINDA NSFW WARNING, TOWARDS THE END? IDK, JUST A HEADS UP. 1335 WORDS, HAVE FUN. ATTACHED MEDIA IS CORRESPONDING PICTURES, IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT BUT YOU'LL SEE. WATTPAD WOULDN'T LET ME PUT THEM INLINE SO I MADE DO. VOTE, COMMENT, N ALL THAT. LOVE YOU ALL <3 )

"I miss London," I said, locking my phone and throwing it on the sofa next to me.

It was a quiet night. Everyone was all partied out and was chilling in their rooms or sleeping already. Peep was next to me on his macbook doing something or other.

"You're just bored," He didn't look up and I frowned.

I really did miss London. It felt like forever since I last heard rain, or felt it, or even smelt the weird gloominess of an oncoming storm. But I also thought Peep was right, I was just bored.

I glanced over at Peep once more before going over to the closet. I had to stand up on my tiptoes to reach what I was looking for. Luckily it was right where I had left it, in the back corner on the top shelf.

I got it down and was surprised at how heavy it was. I didn't remember it being so full. It was just a small white box with developed photos in it.

I went back over to couch and sat back down next to Peep, opening the box and was pleasantly surprised by the first photo in it. It was of Eric and I, him covering his mouth like usual and I was smiling wide, showing off the gap in my teeth.

I grabbed a small pile and flipped through them. There was a lot of pictures of Rayn and I, some miscellaneous ones of scenery or my family. I reached the first Polaroid and it was of Gus. He had sent it to me from the states with a couple other ones. He had written "ghostely without you" on the bottom. I knew it was a play off his pose, the hand over his mouth like Eric. [1]

I held it out for him to look at. He scoffed a little as he took it from me and I went back to looking through the what else was in my hand. I found another one of Eric in his signature pose and put it on the keyboard of his mac for him to look at after.

He let out an obnoxious laugh, "He's such a dork."

I held in my laughter to the best of my ability, showing him the next photo. [2]

"Damn it," He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips. "You always get the worst photos of me!" I couldn't help but laugh at that. He was right. That photo definitely wasn't the best of his. I put it at the bottom of the pile.

"My handzum boy" was written on the back of the next one and I stared at it for a moment. [3]

"What's that one?" He took the picture out of my hands, flipping it over to reveal a picture I took outside a show. "Oh, you think I'm handsome?" he said, looking at me cross eyed with his eyebrows raised up. I laughed at him and shook my head at his antics.

"You have all these nice photos of me," he said, looking through a couple. "I only have dirty ones of you." [4] [5] [6] [7]

I rolled my eyes and continued looking, grabbing the next stack out of the box. "That one is my favourite I took that day," I told him. [8]

"This one?" He held it up and looked at me.

"Fuck yeah," I took it from him, looking at it more closely.

"Why?" I glanced at him, his nose scrunching up as he watched me with the photo.

"You look sexy when you smoke," I informed him, handing him back the photo. I grabbed the next one. Another one of my favourites, I flipped it over to read the writing on the back. It was the text he sent me with the picture, scribbled out on the laminate. "Out here makin it. U proud?" [9]

I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the side of his face, making him smile but look at me in question.

"I am proud of you, you know that, right?" I felt weird being all sappy but sometimes I had to be. It was the only way to make sure he knew I really appreciated him. He kissed the side of my mouth as a reply and smiled wide.

"Remember this?" He asked, holding up a Polaroid. [10]

"Yeah, I do," I tilted my head, not recalling anything too special about the photo.

"No, you don't." He smirked, his eyes watching mine.

"Yeah, I do," I defended, taking it out of his hand. I looked more closely at it, memories from that night coming back. "We were in north L.A., Ghoste was on shrooms, Rozz broke his pinky, and a centipede tried to crawl up your leg and you tweaked out."

He narrowed his eyes at me, clearly disapproving of the fact I mentioned the centipede. He shook his head, his hair moving with him.

I gave him a questioning look, shrugging as I gave up. He snatched the photo back, holding it up between two of his long tattooed fingers.

"This was the first night you let me fuck you."

"No, we first fucked the night we went to the-" My mind breezed over the crudeness of the topic. "Holy shit, it was," I took the photo back and looked at him.

We fucked in his messy hotel room. It was awkward and painful, I cringed just thinking about it. I remembered finding him so hot, willing to do anything to make him happy.

Including taking it up the ass.

I obviously had no room talking because it wasn't bad enough to stop it from happening again.

He moved his laptop off of him and sat foward, turning away from me. Before I could question he lifted up his shirt, little blemishes here and there but his skin was virtually clear. He strained to look at himself and I smiled a little. He muttered to himself, and twisted his torso even more.

"Here," he pointed to his lower back on his left side. There was a faint white line running towards his side. "You did this that night," he laughed and looked at me.

"Holy shit," I said, running my finger down it. "How do you know it was that night?" I said recalling how many times I've had my nails on his back. It was a lot.

"It hurt," he laughed, dropping his shirt and sitting back into a normal position. "It was like, a tattoo, just quicker and I got an orgasm out of it." I laughed, watching him run a hand through his hair as he chuckled a little too. "That's the only one that really scarred," he said, probably also aware of the number of times it had gotten a bit rough.

My mind just took off running, all the times I just let him fuck me, or talk me into blowing him. It wasn't a big deal, not like anyone knew. I'm sure Rayn and Dylan at least suspected something between us, but nobody knew what went on behind closed doors. I was a bit taken back at all of it all of a sudden. It wasn't like I broadcasted it for the world to see, but I still felt weird. Dirty, even.

"I'm a slut," I breathed looking across the room. I didn't really mean to say that out loud but wasn't expecting Peep to burst out laughing. I turned to look at him, shaking my head. "What?"

"Stop laughing."

"Gus."

"Stop it."

"Stop laughing."

He was still cackling, struggling to breathe and crying even.

"Y-you said.. That in the m-most," He had to stop talking to breathe and I rolled my eyes, annoyed that he had laughed in the first place. He sighed, wiping his eyes. "You said that, dead ass, in the most serious tone ever. Like I saw the goddamn light bulb go on in your head," he said, smiling wide. He sat up and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, dragging me down with him.

"You're my slut," he held my head to his chest and we both relaxed into the couch.