A/N: I'm back to wattpad, Wild®️. Should let you guys know this whole fic has Cure themed chapter titles, is being currently updated both here and on AO3, and has sex and drama so is interesting. thanks for reading!
The room was hazy with smoke and the joint that Marilyn and Trent had just shared was sitting, smouldering in the crystal ash tray on the low table in front of the couch.
"Truth or truth. Too lazy to move." Trent spoke shortly and suddenly, putting his beer to his lips and then training his eyes on Marilyn.
"Truth. The first truth." Marilyn spoke, grinning.
"Hm, would you... would you ever let a dog fuck you?" Trent burst into snorting laughter after the question.
"No, dude. I don't take cock from anyone." Marilyn rolled his eyes, falling back on the couch, regarding Trent halo'd in smoke above him.
Trent began to laugh, his laugh shimmering in Marilyn's mind as something glassy and pleasant, and Marilyn thought dimly that Trent's strong jaw and pink lips and heavy eyes were pretty. He was nice to look at, and Marilyn wondered what he'd look like with his mouth hanging open, releasing pretty sounds as he was fucked.
"Truth, or truth." Marilyn uttered as a statement.
"Second truth." Trent ran a hand through his hair.
"Would you fuck a man?" Marilyn asked.
Trent grinned slowly.
"Well, would you?" Pressed Marilyn.
"I am so fucking high right now." Trent whined.
"Answer me!" Marilyn persisted.
Trent trained his hazel eyes intensely on Marilyn, who was lying back on the couch, each of his ribs visible through the sweat soaked fabric of his shirt.
"Maybe, if he were you." Trent spoke groggily, then fell straight down on his side, seeming to fall asleep.
Sighing, Marilyn picked up the joint, and smoked the rest of it, refusing to cough, choking down the smoke. His head clouded completely, and he thought that Trent was a smokey angel, lying peacefully knocked out across the couch.
Maybe if he were you.
Marilyn got up on all fours, trying his best to stay steady, leaning down to see Trent's face looking so peaceful, dark eyelashes sweet and curled and eyebrows free of tenseness, which was unusual for him. He wondered if he'd like kissing Trent. Slowly, Marilyn leaned down, pressing his lips to Trent's, messily smearing lipstick onto the other man's mouth, probing the pink, soft mouth with his tongue. He whined carnally, feeling violently ashamed of the stirring between he legs. So he liked kissing Trent.
Marilyn pulled back, reaching forward and wiping lipstick from Trent's mouth with his fingertips, his heartbeat thumping in his chest. Ignoring the tenseness building in the front of his pants, Marilyn laid back on the other side of the couch, trying to lighten his breathing as he rubbed the excess lipstick off on his jeans. He shut his eyes, hoping desperately to fall asleep, hoping desperately that the drugs would knock him out. More importantly, he prayed he wouldn't remember any of this the next day.
He hoped Trent wouldn't either.
YOU ARE READING
I Bet You Think This Song Is About You
Fanfiction"Truth, or truth." Marilyn uttered as a statement. "Second truth." Trent ran a hand through his hair. (also known as: Marilyn starts to have feelings for Trent, things ensue.) I should let you guys know this is posted on archive of our own as well...
