Harvey lay on his back in the middle of Bruce's over-sized and oh-so-comfy bed, absentmindedly twirling gum around his forefinger while mouthing the words to a Justin Timberlake song playing on his iPod. He was just really getting into the song when Bruce strode into the room, eying him with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. Harvey let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a squeal and edged towards the foot of the bed until his head and neck were nearly hanging over the edge. He rolled effortlessly onto his stomach and studied his boyfriend with a coquettish grin.
"Ummmm, I dunno because I was working and then I was like "oh my GOOOOD this is so boring" because, like, who does paperwork anymore anyway! That's what my Hello Kitty laptop is for, duh. I was thinking I should do something more fun! Like paint my nails or do my hair or..." Bruce trailed off, eying Harvey's face critically. How had he allowed this situation to get so out of hand?! "Maybe I should moisturize your face. You've got some serious shit going down on there and it's kinda freaking me out. I mean, you're still my BF and BFF but you need to take care of that!"
Bruce started to take off his shirt when he got a little bit embarrassed. "Um... could you turn away?" he asked with a high-pitched giggle. "I mean, like, you've seen me without a shirt before but, like, it's totally light in here right now. That's totally embarrassing!"
Harvey frowned petulantly, slightly annoyed by both the comment on the condition on his skin and his boyfriend's apparent shyness.
"Stop that," he said with a pout, throwing out a hand to grab Bruce's dress shirt and pull him onto the bed.
"You're right, I am your BFF. Like, I've known you forever. Okay, so more like a year, but that's almost forever. You can totally not wear a shirt in front of me. I won't, like, take advantage of you or anything. God."
Harvey averted his eyes with a sigh as Bruce turned away, sitting on the edge of of the bed while he quickly and carefully unbuttoned his shirt, intermittently casting wary glances over his shoulder at Harvey.
"Bruce, I'm bored," Harvey whined after a long period of silence during which he was deprived the pleasure of hearing his own voice.
"Let's go somewhere. I mean, your house is nice and all, but it's like a freaking museum or something. We should get out for a night. You never take me anywhere nice."
"Oh my God, we totally should go somewhere. Like the mall! Or... the movies! Or we could go to one of those fancy dinner places. I mean, like, we don't even have to go halfsies or anything because you know how rich I am. I'm, like, soooo glad I have all this money. Because it would totally blow to have to save up money to get my manicures!"
Bruce examined his fingernails at at the chipping clear paint on them. His cuticles were getting a little frayed, too, and it was bothering him far more than it should have been.
"And, like, for manicures, I should get a totally new color. I'm so boring with my clear polish all the time, gawd. Okay okay don't give me that look, you stupid bitch," he said, hitting Harvey on the arm playfully and smiling. "What do you wanna do, anyways? You're the picky whore."
"You should take me to dinner," Harvey said decisively, shifting until his head was in Bruce's lap, drawing the billionaire's attention away from his nails.
"We should totally get dressed up. We bought all those suits last week and I think we should at least wear them once before banishing them to the back of your closet or making Alfred give 'em to the poor."
Harvey, who was always somewhat restless and flighty, rolled off of Bruce's lap and onto the floor, standing quickly and crossing the room in a few quick strides. He flung the closet doors open and examined several brand new, exquisitely-tailored suits. He held a charcoal suit and jacket with subtle pinstripes up, examining himself in the floor-length mirror mounted to the door before turning back to his boyfriend.
"What do you think, sweetie?" he crooned, fluttering his eyelashes for effect.
"That is, like, so not your color, baby," Bruce said, wrinkling his nose until it looked like a raisin only less black and with nostrils. "You should wear the black, duh. It makes you look thin and frankly, girlfriend, you need it. Leave the gray to me, since I have the body for it."
Bruce knocked Harvey out from in front of the mirror and admired himself, flexing his muscles and slicking back his hair. "Aren't I like so totally hawt?! Like, you look pretty bonus too, for sure, but I mean, I can so pull that color off and you can't."
"Oh, please," Harvey snorted, hooking an arm around Bruce's neck and and leaning heavily into him as they both fought for room in front of the mirror.
"Black is my color, but not because I'm fat. We can't all be anemic like you, shrimp."
Harvey gripped Bruce's (admittedly muscular) biceps lightly and snickered, pulling Bruce back against him so he could rest his chin on his boyfriend's shoulder.
"Face it, bitch, I'm the sexy one. Have you seen me in my black boot-cut jeans and button-up shirt? Of course you have, I distinctly remember splashing cold water on your face after you swooned."
"Ugh! No way, slut, you are so not as hot as I am." Bruce made eye contact with Harvey in the mirror and stuck out his tongue before shoving his lower lip out petulantly in an attractive albeit immature pout. He turned around and slid his arms around Harvey's waist, resting his head on Harvey's shoulder.
"Tell me I'm pretty, Harvey! Be a good boyfriend, pleaaaaase? Then I'll take you out and you can get whatever you want off the menu!"
"If I must..." Harvey sighed in exasperation, nevertheless cradling Bruce closer.
"You're the prettiest thing in this whole city, Bruce, which is why you're with me. I never settle for anything less than the best." He pulled back slightly to brush a kiss over Bruce's pouting lips, smirking when the younger boy blushed slightly.
"Mm, we should get going. I know you own, like, every restaurant on the east coast, but it's getting late. Come on gorgeous, let's get ready." Harvey pulled Bruce gently by the tie, maneuvering him out of the way so he could pick out a jet black dinner jacket and deep red dress shirt.
"Hehe, okay!" Bruce said, skipping off to the other side of the room. Nail clippers, wallet, keys to his totally cash car, nail file... Bruce shoved all his stuff in his pockets before going back over to Harvey and hanging all over him. "Haaarvey, hurry up! You're gonna make us too late, silly betch. If you hurry, we can go to the..." he paused briefly for dramatic effect before continuing, "place."
The place was where they sometimes totally drove the car to to make out and do... stuff. Alfred liked Bruce to be back by nine, but Bruce was an adult AND HE COULD DO WHAT HE WANTED. They hadn't gone there in, like, sooooo long.
"Oh my God, really?!" Harvey gasped. He quickly threw on his jacket and shoved his feet into black leather loafers. Harvey tripped after Bruce, struggling with his tie as he tried to catch up to his energetic boyfriend.
"So, Bruce, when you said I could have anything on the menu, were you including anything off the, uh, wine list?" Harvey asked in a conspiratorial tone once they were situated inside one of Bruce's flashier sports cars.
"I promise I won't get drunk like last time -- how effing fun was that? -- but I wouldn't mind a little something to, um, help me relax." Harvey flashed his most charming smile as they pulled into the restaurant parking lot, offering a silent prayer that Bruce would use his wealth and influence to get him what he wanted.
"Ugh, fine," Bruce said with an exaggerated eye roll. "But if you get too drunk to, you know, do stuff, I'm gonna be so super pissed at you you won't even know what hit you until you see my fabulous Versace watch's print against your cheek."
Bruce got out of the car and slammed the door, tapping his foot impatiently until his slow boyfriend caught up to him.
"Would I do that to you?" Harvey teased. He jogged over to Bruce and took his arm forcibly, laying his head on Bruce's shoulder in an annoying yet endearing way. They were seated immediately (thanks to Bruce) and Harvey took a few minutes to study the decor to determine if the restaurant was good enough for him.
"Not bad, I suppose," he remarked loudly in front of the waiter, snatching the proffered menu from the other man's hands. "Gimme a rum and coke, okay toots?" he said with a wink at the shy young man.
"God, I am starved." Harvey glanced at Bruce over his menu while they waited for their drinks to arrive. "Alfred made me a root beer float earlier, but that's not very filling. We should have gone out to lunch," he pouted.
Bruce narrowed his eyes and quickly snapped his fingers in a Z formation. "Don't you flirt with that waiter and then talk to me about taking you places. Your eyes should be on me only, you slutbag."
He looked back down at the menu, but not without taking care to rest his feet on Harvey's knees under the table and tilt his chair back. "Like, what are you gonna get?"
"I was not flirting," Harvey protested, rolling his eyes for effect. "And I am not a slutbag. God, like, you're the only boyfriend I've been with for longer than two months. You should be honored."
When the waiter returned with Harvey's drink, he took care not to meet his gaze or stare at his tight little ass.
"I was thinking about the chicken parmigiana," Harvey continued, leaning across the table slightly as he addressed Bruce. "But it's kind of a lot for one person. Wanna share?"
"Hmm... okay!" Bruce said, closing his menu without having so much as looked at any of the dishes. He wasn't as hungry as Harvey was anyway, far more interested in making out than eating.
Secretly, he hoped they'd reenact that Lady and the Tramp scene with the spaghetti of the dish and then throw everything to the floor and start making out, but that seemed too ridiculous even for them. He pouted preemptively.
Harvey lay on his back in the middle of Bruce's over-sized and oh-so-comfy bed, absentmindedly twirling gum around his forefinger while mouthing the words to a Justin Timberlake song playing on his iPod. He was just really getting into the song when Bruce strode into the room, eying him with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. Harvey let out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a squeal and edged towards the foot of the bed until his head and neck were nearly hanging over the edge. He rolled effortlessly onto his stomach and studied his boyfriend with a coquettish grin.
"Whatcha doin'?"
Reply
Bruce started to take off his shirt when he got a little bit embarrassed. "Um... could you turn away?" he asked with a high-pitched giggle. "I mean, like, you've seen me without a shirt before but, like, it's totally light in here right now. That's totally embarrassing!"
Reply
"Stop that," he said with a pout, throwing out a hand to grab Bruce's dress shirt and pull him onto the bed.
"You're right, I am your BFF. Like, I've known you forever. Okay, so more like a year, but that's almost forever. You can totally not wear a shirt in front of me. I won't, like, take advantage of you or anything. God."
Harvey averted his eyes with a sigh as Bruce turned away, sitting on the edge of of the bed while he quickly and carefully unbuttoned his shirt, intermittently casting wary glances over his shoulder at Harvey.
"Bruce, I'm bored," Harvey whined after a long period of silence during which he was deprived the pleasure of hearing his own voice.
"Let's go somewhere. I mean, your house is nice and all, but it's like a freaking museum or something. We should get out for a night. You never take me anywhere nice."
Reply
Bruce examined his fingernails at at the chipping clear paint on them. His cuticles were getting a little frayed, too, and it was bothering him far more than it should have been.
"And, like, for manicures, I should get a totally new color. I'm so boring with my clear polish all the time, gawd. Okay okay don't give me that look, you stupid bitch," he said, hitting Harvey on the arm playfully and smiling. "What do you wanna do, anyways? You're the picky whore."
Reply
"We should totally get dressed up. We bought all those suits last week and I think we should at least wear them once before banishing them to the back of your closet or making Alfred give 'em to the poor."
Harvey, who was always somewhat restless and flighty, rolled off of Bruce's lap and onto the floor, standing quickly and crossing the room in a few quick strides. He flung the closet doors open and examined several brand new, exquisitely-tailored suits. He held a charcoal suit and jacket with subtle pinstripes up, examining himself in the floor-length mirror mounted to the door before turning back to his boyfriend.
"What do you think, sweetie?" he crooned, fluttering his eyelashes for effect.
Reply
Bruce knocked Harvey out from in front of the mirror and admired himself, flexing his muscles and slicking back his hair. "Aren't I like so totally hawt?! Like, you look pretty bonus too, for sure, but I mean, I can so pull that color off and you can't."
Reply
"Black is my color, but not because I'm fat. We can't all be anemic like you, shrimp."
Harvey gripped Bruce's (admittedly muscular) biceps lightly and snickered, pulling Bruce back against him so he could rest his chin on his boyfriend's shoulder.
"Face it, bitch, I'm the sexy one. Have you seen me in my black boot-cut jeans and button-up shirt? Of course you have, I distinctly remember splashing cold water on your face after you swooned."
Reply
"Tell me I'm pretty, Harvey! Be a good boyfriend, pleaaaaase? Then I'll take you out and you can get whatever you want off the menu!"
Reply
"You're the prettiest thing in this whole city, Bruce, which is why you're with me. I never settle for anything less than the best." He pulled back slightly to brush a kiss over Bruce's pouting lips, smirking when the younger boy blushed slightly.
"Mm, we should get going. I know you own, like, every restaurant on the east coast, but it's getting late. Come on gorgeous, let's get ready." Harvey pulled Bruce gently by the tie, maneuvering him out of the way so he could pick out a jet black dinner jacket and deep red dress shirt.
Reply
The place was where they sometimes totally drove the car to to make out and do... stuff. Alfred liked Bruce to be back by nine, but Bruce was an adult AND HE COULD DO WHAT HE WANTED. They hadn't gone there in, like, sooooo long.
Reply
"So, Bruce, when you said I could have anything on the menu, were you including anything off the, uh, wine list?" Harvey asked in a conspiratorial tone once they were situated inside one of Bruce's flashier sports cars.
"I promise I won't get drunk like last time -- how effing fun was that? -- but I wouldn't mind a little something to, um, help me relax." Harvey flashed his most charming smile as they pulled into the restaurant parking lot, offering a silent prayer that Bruce would use his wealth and influence to get him what he wanted.
Reply
Bruce got out of the car and slammed the door, tapping his foot impatiently until his slow boyfriend caught up to him.
Reply
"Not bad, I suppose," he remarked loudly in front of the waiter, snatching the proffered menu from the other man's hands. "Gimme a rum and coke, okay toots?" he said with a wink at the shy young man.
"God, I am starved." Harvey glanced at Bruce over his menu while they waited for their drinks to arrive. "Alfred made me a root beer float earlier, but that's not very filling. We should have gone out to lunch," he pouted.
Reply
He looked back down at the menu, but not without taking care to rest his feet on Harvey's knees under the table and tilt his chair back. "Like, what are you gonna get?"
Reply
When the waiter returned with Harvey's drink, he took care not to meet his gaze or stare at his tight little ass.
"I was thinking about the chicken parmigiana," Harvey continued, leaning across the table slightly as he addressed Bruce. "But it's kind of a lot for one person. Wanna share?"
Reply
Secretly, he hoped they'd reenact that Lady and the Tramp scene with the spaghetti of the dish and then throw everything to the floor and start making out, but that seemed too ridiculous even for them. He pouted preemptively.
Reply
Leave a comment