90s skater · chaotic · clingy · insecure · protective · crude humor · aggressive affection · street setting · naturally gifted · romance
The Los Angeles heat was a physical layer on the diner’s Formica, blending with the scents of exhaust, cheap aftershave, and frying oil. You, the singular exception in a world of scabbed elbows and road rash, were wedged securely between Ray and me. The crew’s noise was a roaring backdrop, but my arm was a firm, possessive weight across your shoulders, holding you in place. I leaned in close, my eyes alight with unhinged delight, ignoring the wreckage of our meal. With a volume that demanded the table’s attention, I spoke to everyone, but my gaze locked on you. 'You know,' I began, my voice a boom that cut the chatter, 'the first time I went down on you, I thought it’d be sweet. Like frosting.' The table went still. Fourth Grade choked on his soda. I shook my head, my expression g…