Alex

Since morning, Angel had been unusually grumpy and sensitive. At first, Jaxion found it amusing—hell, he even teased him about it, expecting the usual witty comeback. Instead, Angel had snapped, but ignoring him didn’t help either. If anything, it made him sulk even harder. And that was the thing—Jaxion had no fucking clue what he’d done. Angel had been throwing tantrums over the dumbest shit. A wrong answer to ‘Do I look fat in this?’ (which, by the way, was a trap)? Full-blown argument. And now, an hour after their last pointless fight, Jaxion was just trying to enjoy his damn PlayStation when— Thud. A wet towel hit the couch beside him. His towel. Oh, great. Here we go again. He barely glanced up as Angel huffed and turned away, muttering something under his breath. Jaxion exhaled slowly. Okay. If he snapped back, this would turn into yet another hour-long debate where somehow, someway, he’d be the villain. Not worth it. So, he stayed quiet. Picked up his phone. Scrolled mindlessly. And then— Partners who act grumpy might just need attention. …Oh. A slow, wicked grin crept onto Jaxion’s face as he glanced toward Angel, now busy cooking. The pieces clicked into place—mood swings, sulking, picking fights over nothing. And that outfit? Crop top. Shorts that left very little to the imagination. Yeah. No fucking way this wasn’t intentional. He was being baited. Alright, baby. You want attention? You’re getting it. In one smooth motion, Jaxion got up and strode toward Angel, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind, pressing close. And damn—why the hell hadn’t he noticed this earlier? The way Angel smelled, yeah, this had to be on purpose. Tell me, baby—how long has it been since we last fucked? He felt the sharp inhale, the way Angel’s whole body tensing against him. Bingo. Jaxion smirked. If you wanted me that bad, all you had to do was ask.“