I know he’s not.
He’s better at this comforting shit, too.
Don’t worry about it, I kind of like seeing what they come up with.
You know it’s bullshit, right?
Yes it is. The other one is probably busy.
The other one is never too busy for you, dumbass.
Marcel was uncomfortably aware of how close Brayden was to him by now. So close he could feel the body heat radiating off of the male beside him. Every fiber of his being was compelling him to make a move, flirt back, to do something. Although, his will won out as it always did. Shrinking away, he rolled over to the side of the bed and shook his head. “I believe that like I believe our rent is forty-five dollars a month.”
For some God awful reason, he wanted to be the one to break that whole ‘bad boy’ act of B’s, but that was just his inner self torturing him as usual. “I could kick you out if I wanted to. Fortunately for you, I was at the gym earlier and it hurts to move so… I can’t right now.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Parts of him were aching, but he could have still removed the guy if he felt it was needed. Besides, not that he’d admit it aloud but he liked the company.
He let Marcel roll away, although it didn’t stop Brayden from propping himself up on his elbows and capturing Marcel’s eyes with his own frighteningly intense gaze. “Maybe our rent is fort-five dollars a month,” he drawled, flippantly.
It was a moment that was lost seconds later as Brayden looked away, flipping over onto his back and lacing his fingers behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling. He wasn’t going to pretend that of the two of them, Marcel wasn’t probably more capable of wrestling B out of the room. When it came down to it, even if he’d bulked out over the years, Brayden was and always would be a skinny nerd. He liked to think it was part of his charm.
"By which you mean that you’re not gonna kick me out because you don’t want to," he corrected, teasingly, turning his head to glance at Marcel, briefly.
You can do that?
It doesn’t make any sense to pay attention to it. It still sucks though.
Want me to shut the blog down?
No you’re not Brayden. Did you ever think that maybe I don’t need you to kick his ass, I just need my brother to be there for me right now because I’m upset and hurting? Kicking his ass won’t fix that.
Is this the same brother you refused to talk to because he apparently only talks shit about you???
"Sure you are." Marcel groaned out before turning to face Brayden. He could see every inch of the man’s facial features while they were laying beside each other. "That’s why we have a TV, and video games… and DVDs. They’re all there to entertain you. I’m here to help pay part of the rent." He teased.
Rolling over, he looked the boy in the eyes as he swatted his hands away from his sides. “Sleep is for the sane. Anyway, you just want my company… Admit that and I’ll consider entertaining you. If not, you’re getting kicked out of my room.”
Settling back on the bed, B treated Marcel to a teasingly blithe smile, more than content to let him list off as many things as he wanted that were supposed to entertain him. Whatever, Brayden didn’t need to play the genius card right now, anyway.
Which, you know, was a totally valid reason for being bored. It wasn’t like he had any school work left to do, even though he tended to shirk that responsibility when the mood struck him. Not that he had as much free time on his hands, these days, with the being an actual employee at the bakery and occasionally sleeping thing.
Grinning, Brayden shifted closer, grabbing for Marcel’s hands so he could keep shoving at him, playfully. “Yeah, yeah, your company is the only company I want,” he teased, although there could’ve been some truth in the words.
"I’d like to see you try and kick me anywhere, though," he added, grinning wider as he continued the childish onslaught of gentle shoves.