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Norton had been “seeing” Edgar for some time. He was almost his boyfriend, but not his real boyfriend. The idea of commitment frightened him, he couldn’t fathom exclusively being with the arrogant painter. He just kept him around as a good fuck, one he had feelings for, one that tortured him knowing he wasn’t his. But in a relationship everything changes, Norton would have to feel afraid and vulnerable. He would have to stay with one person, for what? For forever? He couldn’t flirt with all the pretty girls on his phone, he couldn’t stay out late with no worries and nobody blowing up his damn phone. In every relationship he’d find himself in he’d pick needless fights, cheat, and call it quits before a month had passed. The painter would have to expect something from him. Despite all of this it didn’t stop Edgar from badgering him, wanting something more, wanting Norton to love him. It was pathetic because truthfully Edgar could never truly love him. And no matter how hard he wanted to, he couldn’t make himself love the painter enough to change. They were just opposites. Too different, always arguing.
“God forbid you shut the hell up. How about you sleep in your room tonight?” He mumbled massaging his temples as he lay back. He watched the painter open his mouth, just to close it again, then open it, “Are you so fucking serious?”
Norton sat up, running a hand through his hair, “I’m too tired for this, alright?”
Edgar could feel his eyes water now, as rude, cold, and isolated as he was he didn’t like this one bit. “No.”
“Excuse me?” Norton huffed. Here they go again. Edgar wanted him to treat him like he was his girlfriend. The other was just so damn stubborn over it and it was draining the life out of him. He couldn’t imagine liking Edgar for very long if he kept this up. Kept demanding time and attention.
“I said no. I’m not leaving Norton. We’re going to talk this out.”
Norton groaned he could feel himself breaking down, and he started to tug at his hair as he continuously ran it through the dirty waves, “Just give me a break Ed- Just this once-“ He practically pleaded. Edgar kicked off his shoes, undressing himself, ignoring Campbell. “You don’t always have to be such a damn brat you know?” Norton added, watching him. The fact that he was ignoring him only ticked him off more, and he knew the painter knew that. The painter looked down at him as he threw on one of his shirts for bed, “Okay- I won’t nag you- let me stay though?” His voice still had an edge but it was softer now and Norton sighed. He should stand his ground, and not let this progress. The more he let Edgar get away with the worse it was bound to get but as the man crawled into the bed with him he didn’t stop him. Edgar pushed kisses to his face, which he normally wouldn’t do before the prospector had showered, complaining how grimy he was. Norton could tell where this was leading already.
Edgar pushed hard kisses moving to his lips, salty skin, and the taste of sweat, Edgar had always hated when they’d fight, he hated how Norton wouldn’t fight for him, and why wouldn’t he beg him to stay? Beg him to stay and tell him he’d do better, tell him he loved him. Instead of Norton comforting him, making him feel loved and liked once more he was the next to speak. “I’m sorry” he whispered into his skin, the rough feeling of Norton's stubble on his lips, “I’m sorry I’m such a pain…” His voice quivered, but he wouldn’t let him cry, to look so pathetic in front of a God-awful man. A man as cruel as Norton, a filthy whore who did as he pleased while Edgar stayed alone. Edgar spent his nights fearing the worst, fearing Norton wouldn’t come back this time, while the prospector did whatever the hell he did. Honestly, Edgar didn’t want to know. It’d only make him more sick.
This wasn’t new for the painter to say, it happened every argument- and he never did change. Never. It was irritating for Norton. But as his kisses trailed down- as the small nimble hands unbuttoned his green work shirt, he wouldn’t be pushing him off. Edgar was so pretty on top of him, long light brown hair framing his face as it tickled Norton's nose. He wanted to push him off, tell him he was still pissed about everything, about just how big a piece of shit Edgar was, but Edgar knew how to please him, how to shut him up.
So instead of taking a stand, ending things once and for all, his hands traveled up the shirt of the other, and his clothes fit large on Edgar making him appear smaller than he was. It was a sight to behold but he needed Edgar out of it already. “Take it off.” Norton exhaled watching him closely. Edgar obliged and tossed it to the side, revealing small perky breasts. Everything about the other was stunning, the bruises he had previously made marked pale skin. “You’re pathetic Edgar. You act all pretentious and then beg for forgiveness the only way you know how huh?” The prospector scoffed as he watched the painter advert his gaze and let out a sad whimper.
Edgar did his best to not cry, he subjected himself to being Norton’s personal fleshlight. He was a sorry excuse for a nobleman. The way the other only worsened it, degrading him and getting off to it. He bit down on his lips after letting out a sad whimper. He could tell the prospector savored every moment of it too. He was being fucked by his eyes already. He hated himself for being with him. He hated himself for letting this happen, he hated all of it and said nothing as large calloused hands ran over his scars. He only remained silent as Norton touched him in all the right places. He felt as though he was stuck living in hell but those fingers took him to heaven for a moment. The way Edgar knew that Norton savored every second of it was enough to push down the bile. He rolled his hips over Norton’s clothed hips rubbing against him. The prospector groaned from the friction and it made Edgar just as aroused.
“God Edgar you make it so hard to stay mad at you–” He praised the other as he watched him stay silent. Edgar moved away and worked his member out of his boxers, wrapping pink lips around the tip. He watched him eagerly already hard. Edgar wasted no time taking him whole as he’d done time and time again. But that didn’t stop him from gagging on his length again and again. Norton tangled his fingers in the painter’s hair pulling his hair. The other whined on his cock and earned another groan from the miner. He panted as he watched Edgar bob his head and tongue his tip. He needed him, he didn’t want anyone else to take his Edgar away. He’s seen how some of their friends would eye him, “You belong to me Edgar, you know that right?” He huffed, words shaky as he bucked his hips into the other’s throat. Edgar just hummed in agreement, sweet tears slipping from his face. The sight was overbearing and he found himself coming closer and closer to finishing. He pulled at the other's hair pulling him off his dick and pushed himself up. Edgar knew what to do, rolling himself onto his back. Norton loved to see the painter's pathetic face as he was put in his place. Taking dick like a common whore. He loathed Edgar’s past, it was just one more thing to resent him for.
Edgar finally spoke, “Please Norton, fuck me already– I need you so so bad–” He knew just how much Norton enjoyed those words. And he wanted himself inside him either way. It was a sickening feeling, letting someone he loved neglect him in all ways but physically. He wanted to know what went on inside his head. Norton lined himself up and slipped his tip in staring into the other’s eyes. The look Norton had wasn’t so familiar to the painter though, it was a sad one. His lover looked down at him with sad eyes, eyes that pitied Edgar. This was even sadder than anything before. Edgar opened his mouth, ready to make a bratty comment, letting out a gasp as the other pushed into him. The bed creaked with every thrust and Edgar whined each time. Being with Norton was nothing like anything he had experienced before. Hot tears streamed down his face as Norton buried his face in the crook of his neck. He bit down on fading hickeys working to mark him up just as bad as before. “Norton–” Edgar started, “Tell me you love me baby– please just this once.” Norton stopped almost instantly. He looked at the painter’s scared blue eyes and Edgar couldn’t help but fear he ruined it all.
“I love you, Edgar.” At first, the prospector’s voice was quiet until he spoke once more, “I love you so terribly much.” Norton considered it his own manipulation of the painter, giving him what he wanted for the moment. Hell, to keep him under his hold he’d say it however much the painter wanted him to. But that didn't change that he didn’t want to be with Edgar. It didn’t change that Norton did not want a real relationship. “I love you so much baby-” he grunted as he began thrusting into the other again. How pathetic Edgar was, how sad he was. He really thought the prospector and him could work out. He really thought they could last? It made him sad. He wanted them to last, he wanted to be a different person, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t reflect on such pathetic feelings any longer, his movements were sloppy but clearly Edgar was more than pleased, louder than before. He let out soft moans of his own, sad, pathetic noises. The painter’s legs tightened across his back, “I love you Norton– I love you so much please- I’m so close–” Norton whined into the other’s shoulder, this time he wasn’t getting off to Edgar’s tears but his own face was left wet. He came in the other and pulled out, rubbing the painter’s clit as he finished on his fingers.
After a moment Norton stood up and huffed, what was the right next move? Did he take care of him, did he clean up for Edgar? Though after telling him he loved him would that be too much? He had to analyze the situation before deciding that if he let Edgar walk out right now he’d know his promises of love were empty-handed. Instead, like some narcissistic sick fuck, Norton went and kissed the painter tenderly on his lips, slowly. He whispered in his ear sweet nothings, how deeply he loved Edgar and how he dreamed of forever with him. The painter would lay in silence with sweet happy tears welling up in his eyes. But to Norton’s, it felt like sappy guilt. He wanted this but didn’t at the same time. It was conflicting and sad in every way. That’s whenever Norton moved to clean the painter up, he worked silently and grabbed his soiled sheets. He’d worry about washing them here in a minute, for now, he wrapped the other in a towel. He straddled the painter and lifted him up. Grateful for the late hour no one would see him take him to the bath. He carried him down the hall to the nearby bathrooms where he cleaned him. They talked quietly about all sorts of things as they’d wash together.
“I don’t understand how you don’t shower on the daily–” The painter pressed as he ran shampoo through Norton’s hair, he had him kneel in front of him so he could reach. “It’s just such a hassle– I get to it eventually either way. I don't see you complaining.” Edgar let out a quiet scoff, yanking at black curls and listening to others grunt in pain. The prospector swatted at his hand, “Stop that– Can’t you just play nice.” Though the grin in his tone was unmistakable. “Serves you right, Campbell.” He hummed. He adored the man before him. He loved when he could share intimate moments and pretend like Norton was his, to keep, forever. He loved feeling the other’s hands on him in such a sweet way, rubbing his hips tenderly. If love was anything it had to be this.
They stepped out of the shower after far too long. Norton’s towel hung low on his hips and Edgar’s over his chest. Norton looked so beautiful to him, his scarred body, his burn running down his whole side. The other was well built too, and he couldn’t help but let his eyes travel down his abs and happy trial. He knew he wasn’t a bad look either and the way Norton’s eyes devoured him only pleased him more. They’d walk into his room quickly and quietly again, where Norton pulled on boxers and put on one of Norton’s t-shirts. He watched the prospector change his sheets and throw the other in the laundry basked. Edgar could never be bothered to do common household work when Norton was there. Instead, he crawled into his bed when the other finished making it and let Norton join him. The other spooned him and kissed his neck, “I love you, Ed, goodnight.” Edgar let out a happy sigh at the words and let himself doze away in the prospector’s arms. Tomorrow was another day, where they’d more than likely have another fight, but he’d enjoy this second for the rest of his miserable life if it was the last time.