Tag: break-ups

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

“August,” Quincy says with a sigh, “You’re smoking again. You’re a vocalist. You can’t smoke.”
“Oh shut it, Quince, it makes me feel better.”
“Christ,” he replies, shifting his weight to one hip. “You’re pathetic. And when you houseboy tells you you’re pathetic, you have a problem that tequila can’t fix.”
August opens an eye and watches his pierced and tattooed houseboy water his houseplants in turquoise boyshorts with the words ‘power bottom’ emblazoned on each butt-cheek.
“Don’t you think about putting your cig out in my plants,” warns Quincy. “Let me go get you an ashtray, you filthy boy.”
August grunts and rolls his eyes. 

A moment later, Quincy returns with an ashtray. August snubs it down and digs in his pack for another one.
“You know, I think I know how to fix this little problem.”
“What?” August eyes him. “It’s not a little problem and it can’t be fixed. We broke up. Let me get over it.”
Quincy rolls his eyes hard and vocalizes in exasperation. “No. I am not letting you break up your band over this bullshit. I am going to fix this.”

August lifts his head. “What? Where are you going? Quincy! Where are you going you little bitch?”
Quincy disappears back into the living room, then strolls back out onto the porch with a phone pressed to his ear. “Oh hi Franz, this is Quince, I’m on August’s phone.”
August jumps to his feet. “Hey! Is that my phone? Get off my phone!”
Quincy shoves an astonished August back into the chair.
“Sorry to bother you dear,” Quincy continues, sweet as treacle, “But I am so sick of this moping that I’m going to say what August can’t fucking say cause he’s a prick. First of all, he still loves you-“
“Quincy, goddammit, hang up!” August hisses through clenched teeth, eyes blazing.
“-and he can’t stop thinking about you. He’s not eating, he’s not sleeping – and he’s fucking smoking. – I know! I told him not to do that, but he won’t listen so maybe you will. You two are not breaking up your band over this. The Gilded Cranes is on fire right now. It’s all you ever – no YOU shut up, I’m not done.”
“Quincy I swear to god I’m going to spank you so hard,” August fumes.

The houseboy ignores him and waltzes back into the living room. “You two are NOT fucking up the lives of everyone else in the band that wants success so bad. You are not fucking over your manager, or your tour manager, or your merch girl who rely on you for work, nor ALL OF YOUR FANS over this PEDANTIC love spat you have. Listen, August will never tell you this but he’s totally scared of commitment.”
August groans loudly.
“His parents had a nasty divorce when he was growing up and so he’s terrified. He loves you so fucking much and wants you to be out with him, but he just can’t tell you that. So he broke up with you instead, thinking it’d be easier. So there, now you know. Now come over and let him fuck you with delicious make-up sex. before I lose my goddamn mind dealing with you – you children.”

Q exhales a puff of air. “There, you can have your phone back August.”
August was beet red. “Your bottom is going to be raw later. Raw, I say.”
“Oh pfft, you won’t have time, you’re gonna be too busy fucking.”
August glowers at him and put the phone to his ear. “…Franz? You’re still there? ..Oh you are. Shit, I am so- so sorry about this. My houseboy will be getting punished for this, don’t you worry. …Was what true? Any of it? …Franz please. You’re my best friend. I’ll always love you.” Quincy watches August wander off toward the bedroom to take the call in private.

When August emerges later, his eyes are red.
“..Uh oh, what happened August?”
“Franz is coming over.”
“Ha! Haha! Woo! I knew it.”
August smirks. “Yeah we’re gonna fuck. But first, we’re going to spank you together.”
Quincy’s eyes go wide. “That’s not how it’s supposed to go!”
“Just be lucky the whole band isn’t participating.”
It’s Quincy’s turn to groan. “Goddammit. This is the thanks I get?”
“Oh, forgot to mention – Franz is bringing you a cake from Domino’s.”
Quincy gasps. “Oh wow, an entire cake? Not just a piece?”
“An entire cake.”
The houseboy gives a dreamy sigh. “You guys really do love me.”
“You know I’m surprised you haven’t gotten fat already, Quincy,” August teases.
He sticks his tongue out in retort. “Bitch. Go shower, you reek of ciggies.”
“Go clean my bedroom before Franz gets here. Make sure it’s stocked.”
“Alright, alright~”

…”Quincy?”
“Yes boss?”
“Thanks.”
Quincy makes a dismissive wave with his hand. “Just credit me when you get famous.”

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Text is fictional. This is model Ash Stymest.

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by ccallenreese ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

My phone chimes. I pick it up. It’s Grey. Such a cool name, very classic. He’s running late. I can’t remember what he does for a living, something involving archiving at a museum. He was by far one of the best candidates that responded to my ad. Still, I’m restless. I’m torn because I need someone to pay the other half of the rent, but part of me isn’t ready to share this space yet. My heart still feels raw and burnt, the sickening pain from the discovery of adultery has left me numb and taken the color out of the world.

I honestly thought I did everything right. I was a good boyfriend to Jared. I always let him know where I was, I was tidy, I cooked sometimes. I pleased him in bed, and never complained when he didn’t want to reciprocate with his mouth. It wasn’t enough though. Jared left me for the twink that made his smoothies at the gym. Can you believe that? I mean I understand the allure of a true twink and cockslut, of having some nearly hairless, lithe queer boy writhing under you, begging for you to fuck his pussy again… but Jared and I had been dating for nearly two years when he left me. That’s a boy you take home from the club, not someone you throw away a serious committed relationship for in a week. Plus, Jared always used to call me handsome. He loved my pecs. He said he liked rugged men. I just don’t understand what happened to my life. Maybe Jared really wanted a pretty houseboy or something, I don’t know.

I pace around the apartment, mournfully gazing at where Jared put his coffee mugs, and where he put his watch when he went to bed. Until yesterday, my hand-prints were still on the patio doors from when Jared last fucked me against them. It had been dark, and people could probably see us. I found it exhilarating. Now, I was ashamed and wished I’d scrubbed them away earlier.

I opened the apartment door and glanced out into the hallway. I left the door open a crack to help air out the stuffy living room. I felt lost, a bit stuck in time. I shuffled into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed. I used to get into this submissive position – back arched, arms straight, ass out – like some obedient show puppy desperate to please his Master. I thought it was fun to greet your boyfriend like that, start the evening off with some frisky sex.

Now I just feel stupid. There is no one to show of and feel sexy for. I  might as well be a puppy dropped off at the pound-

There’s the sound of knuckles rapping at the door. “Um, excuse me?” says a melodic velvety voice.

I whip my head around. My potential new roommate is standing in the open door-frame to my apartment. From that vantage point, Grey can see straight through the living room and right into my bedroom. Right at my ass. I flush with embarrassment and scramble off the bed; I practically run to the living room to greet him.
“You must be Grey,” I mumble, wanting to melt into the floor. I offer a hand. We shake.
Grey lifts the corners of his lips and raises an eyebrow at me with lots of David-Bowie-esque charm. “Pleasure’s all mine. Sorry if I was erm, interrupting, but the door was open.”
I stammer out a response. “No, it’s quite alright, I was just – er, would you like to a tour of the apartment?”
“Yes please. Are you alright?” Grey presses, putting a hand on my arm. I realize he’s wearing slim, leather gloves. What style!
I sigh. “I’m alright. I just…I don’t want to be a downer, but my boyfriend of two years just left me. This is hard, to be renting out the guest room.”
To my astonishment, Grey hugs me. “I am so sorry honey. That is never fun, or fair.”
I can’t believe how badly I need this hug right now. I crush him back, and I am mortified to feel more tears coming on.
“Aww oh dear, I’ve upset you. Come now, show me to the kitchen, I’ll make you some tea. You poor cub, I think you need someone to talk to.”
I nod miserably and show him the way. 

After Grey makes me a cup of sencha, the dam bursts. I end up completely gushing and bitching, ranting like a lunatic, going through tissues like a madman. Grey listens, always attentive, never bored, never once glancing at his phone. He pats my arm and soothes me, never accusing, always asking the right questions.

By the time I stop blubbering the teapot is empty. I take pause and sigh. “I’m sorry. This must be insufferable for you. You probably can’t wait to leave,” I snort.
“No…actually,” Grey says slowly. “I’d like to rent the apartment.”
“…What? Really? You’ve barely seen in it.”
Grey runs his finger over the circular rim of the cup. “I saw the kitchen, and the living room. And I had a nice view into the bedroom.”
I blush at his innuendo..
“This is all exactly what I am looking for, in my price range, and in a neighborhood a like. I’m a particular man. I want particular things.”
“Things?”
“Things,” Grey says with a knowing smile. His eyes linger on my chest for a moment, before flickering up to me. I am a bit mesmerized by his charm.
“…I’ll um, I’ll get the paperwork then.” I stand up, but when I notice just how green his eyes are, I end up tripping over my own feet on the way to my desk.

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Text is fictional. Originally posted by the real person on Tumblr. This story is not meant to assume his personality or sexuality.