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    Summary

    “The lady at the bar. The pretty blonde one. Do you love her now? Did you fuck her? Is that why you don't want to fuck me?” Aeron's lip trembles as he speaks and it takes everything in Davos to not laugh in his face.

    “No. No, I still love you, Bracken. I didn't fuck her,” Davos assures him, perhaps a little too amused for what the situation called for as his cheek dimples when he tries to bite back his smile. After all the bullshit they've put each other through recently, it seems funny to have Aeron begging for his love, and attention. Funny, because if it wasn't funny, it would shatter anything that was left of his broken, wretched, heart.

    “Are you gonna fuck her?” Aeron asks suspiciously, eyes narrowing in inspection. Still not convinced.

    This boy was gonna be the death of him.

    Or

    Davos and Aeron are both NYC trust fund babies and they are definitely NOT dating.

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