Page 15 of A Little Christmas! Johnny
But i dont think u want to kick them out
Don't kill me please
The rumble of a an engine sounds from the driveway, and I watch the monster car turn off our street. Two hours is not enough sleep to deal with this shit!
Me:
what the fuck did u do???
My Favoritist Neighbor EVA:
*AUTOMATED MESSAGE* I’m currently driving and cannot respond.
I can’t fucking do this without some coffee. I’m sure that any more force from me would send me crashing through the stairs with how hard I’m stomping, but two hours of sleep is absolutely not enough to be dealing with this shit. Russel is old enough to not be playing these kinds of games. He’s so fucking lucky that he doesn’t have a Mommy for me to tattle to right now.
While the Keurig spits out my coffee into what I’m pretty sure is a clean mug, I hit the icon on my phone to call the son of a bitch who woke my ass up. He won’t text while driving, but he’s always got at least one Airpod in to take calls, even when driving.
“Russel can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message at the beep. BEEP,” my friend tries to disguise his voice, but he’s horrendously bad at it. I am pretty sure he’s trying to make me laugh, but there’s always that small percentage of the time where he really is that big of a dipshit thinking things like this will work. For a brilliant man, he’s a total dumbass sometimes.
“Why would I want to kill you, Russel?” I ask, ignoring his pathetic attempt at avoiding talking to me. “What did you do and who owns the car?”
I sip my coffee and plop down on my couch to watch the rerun of the morning news. I’ll never understand why the talk shows and shit start at seven when the people who would be most interested in those shows are in the middle of their commutes or rushing around to get ready. No one has the time from seven to eight or nine to be sitting down watching the television unless they are retired.
“So, I know you stole Johnny’s letter to Santa,” Russ says and I spit my coffee all over the front of me.
“Not cool, by the way. Stealing is naughty. But then I realized that maybe Santa has picked me to be hisLittlehelper.”
This time, coffee goes up my nose. Fuck me, I need to just stop drinking liquid while this asshole is talking. Ignoring my coughing fit, Russel plows on, inbetween cussing out the other drivers on the road.
“I heard the boss friend guy at the mechanic place tell Johnny he needed to find a place to stay for a while, so I offered him my guest room. Then, I saw the letter on your – PICK A FUCKING LANE JAGOFF – stoop and read it. The snow smudged a few parts, but I was even more sure that asking him to stay was – IT'S CALLED A BLINKER DUMBASS – the right thing to do... Oh come on YA FUCKING… MY GRANNY DRIVES BETTER THAN YOU!”
After some more creative phrases, I am finally able to get a word in.
“What do you mean you asked him to stay? Please tell me you didn’t demand it and not give him a chance to refuse.”
Russ can be kind of a steamroller when it comes to what he thinks is the right thing to do. Usually, it’s not a problem, but he can sometimes forget that other people are allowed to haveopinions that differ from his, and that free will is in fact a good thing.
“Psssh. We had Chinese for dinner and he even played trash basketball with me. But I think I messeded up, Dex. I thought he knew he’s a Little.Howdoes he not know?”
I let the frustration build for two seconds before I exhale to release it. Cracking my neck, I fight to control my voice when I respond to my fucking imbecilic best friend. Two hours of sleep is not enough for dealing with Russel’s shit... especially considering it’s related to the boy I want to be mine for the next millenia.
“What. Did. You. Do?”
“Eep! I’m sowwy Uncle Dex. I thought I was being a good friend, but then he got all confuseded and sniffly and started crying and I didn’t know what to do. You were at work and Lucky’s Daddy said no calls after eight on school nights. I wentLittleand then he saw my room and I went to sleep. But I don’t know why he was all sniffly, Dex, and I think I messeded up.”
Considering how badly Russ is sliding into Little adjacent, I swallow my anger to soothe him. The last thing this city needs is for one of the top attorneys to call a judge or opposing counsel a “doodie head” in official court transcripts. After another twenty minutes of reassuring my best friend that I’m not going to kill him, I finally get back to my now cold coffee. Instead of wasting it and brewing another cup, I just nuke it. I buy the cheap shit anyways. Freshly brewed or microwaved, it doesn’t make a difference to the taste.
But now, I have more to think about. Johnny is on the other side of the wall. Is he sleeping? Is he confused? Is he grossed out? Did I lose him before even getting a chance to talk to him about age play?
The sound of the kitchen door next door opening has me stumbling to my own back door. This means Johnny is awake. I can talk to him.
Yanking open the door, I’m met with an absolutely adorable sight. There’s my boy in Pokémon pajama pants and a tight white thermal shirt showing off not only his amazing physique but the fact that he hasn’t woken up enough to take care of his morning situation. He’s frozen mid-yawn with a mug in his hand, hair looking crazier than usual. I spend about thirty seconds devouring this visual to lock it away for future reference, but then he races back inside with an “Eeep” that only makes me want him more. I really hope that he’s open-minded and wants to move forward with me because I know I can’t give him up.
15
JOHNNY
What exactly is the solution when you get caught by the hott as fuck neighbor with morning wood tenting the front of yourcartoonpajamas while your hair looks like you stuck a fork in an electrical socket? I can only thank God that I had already pulled my thumb from between my lips to take a sip of cocoa before the yawn hit me.
