A/N: Strong Language.
Idea Taken from the "Cute OTP things" tumblr site.
"Friends with benefits...oh wait I like you" A/U
It was late, and Brett pretended that he was more drunk than he actually was. That way they'd be less to explain in the morning. He smirked as Mason stroked his chest and pushed him up against the wall. It wasn't long before they were making out on the sofa, Brett opened his legs wider as his one night stand got on the floor.,
Brett grabbed Mason's hand as he reached for his belt.
"Shit, the shots are wearing off...and you don't want to?" Mason asked.
"No, I just have to tell you. This is a friends with Benefit arrangement"
"Okay" Mason said beginning to rub his crotch. He ignored that action and kept talking.
"Wait, you say that now, but you'll get clingy. I know Guys like you"
"Oh really?" Mason said, removing his hands.
Brett shrugged and carried on. "You'll act cool at first. Then we'll fuck. The next morning you'll try to ask me out. You want to wash my back in the shower. You'll try to make me breakfast from scratch but you'll do a crappy job. You'll some how, get my phone and get my number"
"Brett I'm not like..."
"That how Guys are the morning after. Don't bother trying to text me during the day. Devenford is private property. They don't let Guys like you in. If you ever try and talk to my Friends, or my band-mates, or my Squash Team, or my Soccer Team, or my Lacrosse Team..."
"Dude...I get it" Mason huffed.
"You don't, but this is casual, don't bother trying to tweet me either. It's awkward enough trying to explain our friendship. This is just fun, it's not a romantic thing. If you see me with a Girl or another guy, just go home, cry it out, and move on"
"If you even Text another guy, I'll be wild with anger, I'll be so devastated I won't be able to get out of bed. Can I touch you now?" Mason asked.
"As you wish, but don't say that I didn't warn you. And don't bother trying to cuddle me afterwards, I hate that"
Mason nodded, before sliding down Brett's trousers. The sofa was actually a sofa bed. Brett didn't mind his visitor sleeping on it, as long as they weren't touching. After a lust-filled dirty talk speech night Brett drifted off into sleep. It was about Five am, when curiousity prickled his neck. He looked over at Mason sleeping away, far away, almost on the edge of the sofa bed.
Brett noticed his trousers folded on the bookcase.
They're was no harm in checking what was in his trousers. It wasn't a crime to check his personal stuff as long as he didn't take anything. He rumaged around his trousers, until he realised his phone was on the table. Fortunately it wasn't locked. He decided to look at his messages first. There some from his parents, a Guy called Scott and what seemed like One Hundred and Fifty Texts from some Guy called Liam.
Brett frowned. Who was this ass-hole filling up Mason's inbox?
For Mason's safety Brett had to find out...