TW: Adorkable Twats. . .

Title ~My Twat~

“Smith.” Ross’ voice is weary, showing his annoyance at having to wait an hour for a bus that they would have been on, had Alex not gotten distracted talking to the PC World employee about components and made them miss it by around five minutes. The end of Autumn already seems so close to breaking into winter as it opens overhead and pours a waterfall of classic British weather on their heads, fitting so nicely with the day’s low temperatures.

“Hm.” The bearded man doesn’t look at Ross, instead glaring at the shimmering pavement beneath his feet - rain matted hair dripping over his face and into his eyes. The scent of wet tarmac feels stuffy at the back of Ross’ throat, the rain coming down in a steady drum beat against the stretched plastic of his umbrella. He can feel water seeping through his trainers a little, and just knows that when he takes them off later along with his socks he will feel the horrible damp of the backs of his jeans hitting his ankles. Still, his gaze is half pitiful half amused as it drags over the completely sodden form of a rather sulky looking Alex Smith not two meters away from him; the idiot, having forgotten his umbrella, being too stubborn to come under Ross’.

“For fuck’s sake, Smith.” Ross chides, a bite to his tone, but rolls his eyes nonetheless. “Come here you stupid tosser,” Extending his arm slightly to hold out the umbrella towards Alex, Ross does not let up his stony look in his friend’s direction until the bearded man is getting essence of wet twenty-something all over Ross’ right hand side. Ross tries not to think about how the rain is bringing out the smell of Alex’s shampoo, or how when he glances over the other man’s face the droplets have accentuated the curve of his ridiculous eyelashes. What he does give thought to, however, is the fact that Alex is shivering. Not even bothering to ask - knowing full well that Alex would never admit to trembling - Ross swaps the umbrella handle over into his left hand and snakes his right around Alex’s shoulders, turning the other man a little and pulling him close. Ross can feel Alex’s hair dripping onto his cheek; is well aware of the damp heat radiating off of the bearded man.

“Ross,” Alex smirks, finding amusement in how clearly Ross is blushing and obviously avoiding his gaze. “Are you trying not to kiss me.” Alex tries not to laugh at the messy suppression of emotions that flickers across Ross’ face as he slips his own arm around Ross’ waist and brushes the tip of his nose against Ross’ temple. Out of the corner of his eye the trail of moisture he had just left on Ross’ skin shines a little, and despite the heavy patter of the rain just above his head on Ross’ umbrella, Alex can practically hear the other man’s racing heart beat.

“Fuck off, mate.” Ross says, but without malice. Alex smiles with the smug satisfaction of knowing he is right, tilting his head with a soggy flick of hair and pressing a hard, lingering kiss to Ross’ cheek. His lips feel the movement of Ross’ jaw when the dark haired man swallows, and when Alex pulls away he can’t help but grin broadly at the dark gaze cast sidelong at him. Squeezing pointedly with the hand on Ross’ hip, hard enough to be felt through the layers of Superdry on his friend’s body, Alex rests his damp forehead against Ross’ temple and sighs happily. They stay that way for a brief moment, happy with the quiet affection before Ross’ voice comes quiet and murmured between them. “God, you’re so fuckingwet.” At this Alex chuckles a warm huff of laughter and moves to whisper in Ross’ ear.

“Only for you,” Another kiss, this time to Ross’ jaw, and the dark haired man awkwardly pushes at Alex’s shoulder with the hand wrapped around the handle of the umbrella. Caught rain splatters noisily on the pavement as the umbrella moves and flicks it off of its surface, and Alex winces amongst his laughter when the underside catches the back of his head in a shock of cold, damp plastic. “Fucking hell!” He exclaims lightly, not missing the amused curl of Ross’ lips when the dark haired man’s head turns fully towards him. Neither does Alex miss a beat before taking the opportune moment to peck Ross on the lips, smirking in his own unique way when Ross blushes and frowns insincerely at him.

“Twat.” Ross murmurs, and Alex squeezes him again as he replaces his forehead against Ross’ temple.

“Your twat?” This time Ross makes a small sound of amusement and briefly tightens his arm around Alex’s shoulders. A small nod moves his head against Alex’s.

“My twat.”