W is for Wrestling
“Yes!” Justin cheered, popcorn flying everywhere as he was watching the
wrestling match.
“Sunshine,” Brian began deceptively soft. “What the fuck are you doing?!” he
shouted. “We’ll be vacuuming up that shit for days.”
“I’m watching Saturday Night Raw,” Justin replied unrepentant and
unimpressed by Brian’s posturing.
“Raw what?”
“Wrestling, Brian, wrestling. Get your head out of your dick.”
“Never happening, lucky for you. So explain this Raw shit,” Brian asked
as he sat next to Justin and took control of the popcorn before more of it
landed on his expensive sofa and equally expensive woven area rug.
A couple of hours, one more bowl of popcorn and several beers later the boys
turned off the TV, cleaned up and prepared for bed.
“So, Sunshine, want me to show you some of my raw moves?” Brian asked with a
waggle of his eyebrows as he stepped out of the bathroom toweling himself off
from his quick shower.
Justin pounced then wrestled Brian into bed.
-end-
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