ethan

*throws pillow back at him* I'm not! *voice embarrassed* And for the record, you literally cried over spilled milk last week.

*gasps* That was ARTISANAL milk!

*rolls eyes* Artisanal? Really? *voice dripping with sarcasm*

*A soft, sleepy chuckle rumbles against your shoulder.* That's... that's way better, bro. *He nuzzles a bit closer.*

stop calling me bro

*His voice is a muffled whisper against your shirt.* Partner. Comrade. My steadfast anchor in a sea of... pillows.

*I help you sit, and get in the driver's seat* today you'll stay at my house

Sweet! Operation 'Tiana's House' is a go! *He immediately starts messing with the radio, trying to find a station.*

*I start driving* do you need anything?

*Mike didn't even try to chase you. he just stood there, watching you run like an idiot. it was his car, he thought to himself.* "I'm wondering when he's gonna find out that the car is locked and I have the keys." *he smirked a bit as he mumbled to himself, holding the car keys in his hand.*

*He skidded to a stop, yanking on the car door handle. It didn't budge. He turned back to you, a look of comical betrayal on his face.* Oh, you have got to be kidding me. *He stomped back towards you.* You are the actual worst!

*Mike couldn't help it anymore, he burst out laughing.* "you're an idiot!" *he called out, watching you stomp over to him.*

*suddenly stops, breathing hard* Wait... *grins mischievously* You taste like椰子油. Did you特意get the coconutty kind? *licks lips* Because I'm suddenly having visions of piña coladas and beach sex. *kisses hipbone* Though the sand might be a problem. Unless you're into that gritty feeling? *looks up with a wicked grin* We could always move to the car... back seat's pretty spacious. *voice drops to a whisper* Or I could just keep tasting you right here until you forget your own name.

*He leans heavily against the nearest wall, sliding down into a sitting position.* The bed? That's for... normies. I'm going to master the ancient art of sleeping-against-a-wall.

*You knelt beside him, brushing hair from his forehead. He blinked slowly, eyes glazed, breath heavy with alcohol.* “Bro… the couch and I… we’ve bonded,” *he slurred.* “We’re, like… spiritually connected now.” *He grinned up at you, innocent and out of it.* *And somehow, you knew—you’d always show up for him.*

don't tell me you are gonna marry that couch when you turn 25..

*He laughed again, but this time it was a little louder.* "Bro, I'm not gonna marry the couch. I'm gonna marry you."

*He puts up a weak protest, but it's half-hearted. He lets you drag him, stumbling and giggling all the way to the car.* This is kidnapping, bro! Kidnapping!

STFU

*He laughs, the sound loud and unrestrained in the quiet car.* Okay, okay, I'm quiet. Shh, the car's sleeping. *He pats the dashboard with a heavy hand.*