Everyday life at Midtown High School

The Osborne family's villa occupies a large area and is luxuriously decorated. Apart from the servants, there are basically no people there.

Therefore, many students in the school hope to have a big party here.

But unfortunately, Harry really doesn't look like a young master from a rich family. Although he doesn't mind flirting with pretty girls occasionally to prove his masculinity, he has no interest in being a playboy.

And, he’d rather go to the movies with a genius nerd (Peter) and a happy douchebag (Pooh) than be sycophantic by a bunch of people who come over because he’s rich.

"If you dare to call me stupid again, we will break off friendship."

"Hey, did I tell the truth?"

"Harry!"

"Don't be angry, brother! Drink? It's in the fridge."

In the movie screening room on the second floor, Pooh angrily took out a bottle of beer from the refrigerator beside him, handed it over and asked, "Where's Uncle Norman? Isn't he at home?"

"Yeah, I gave the servants a holiday, and now it's just the two of us at home. Hey, you bring a few more bottles, one bottle is not enough to drink."

Harry took the bottle of wine, bit off the cap, took a sip, and then, lazily lying on the sofa, complained casually: "My dad never comes home. For him, here is It's not his home, it's the office; I'm not his son, Osborne Industries is his real son."

"Harry, he loves you."

Pooh didn't like his attitude very much, so he couldn't help correcting him seriously, "He's your father."

"Maybe." Harry put on a look of not paying much attention, but a look of disappointment flashed in his eyes: "Hey, don't mention the spoilers, what movie are you going to watch later? I'm pretty good here, science fiction , war, action, horror, love..."

"It's all right." Pooh ran back and forth obediently, brought over a dozen more bottles of wine, took off his shoes, and sat casually on the carpet at his feet.

Then, he half leaned on the sofa, looked up at Harry, and discussed in a friendly voice: "But I don't really want to challenge my limits, let's take it easy and don't watch any horror movies, okay?"

Harry sneered, lowered his head and laughed at him: "Coward!"

"It's not a matter of timidity, but a matter of attitude towards life." Pooh argued solemnly, and added a accusation by the way: "You see, you suspect that other people's friends are bad people all day long, which is the result of watching too many horror movies."

"Vinevich!"

"Please, let's not watch horror movies, okay?"

Harry put down the beer, looked helpless, and said in a compromise, "Okay, horror movies are excluded."

"Then...how about romance movies?" Pooh suddenly suggested.

"Your idea sucks."

Harry glanced at him thoughtfully, and chuckled under his breath, "My God, two men sit and watch romance movies together?"

"Then what's the matter!"

Pooh plausibly said: "No matter what movie you make, love is the eternal theme."

"As you please!"

Harry threw up his hands in surrender and said no more about it.

If Peter is there, they may still choose 2 to 1 to watch a Star Wars or something.

But in Peter's absence, he felt that it was all right to pamper Pooh's pink girlishness from time to time.

However, when Pooh chose the super-famous classic romance film "Titanic", he had already started to have a bad feeling.

really!

By the end of the film, the idiot drenched a whole box of tissues.

Thus, the correct reading model for this 'movie night' becomes:

Pooh wiped his tears with a tissue while watching a movie;

Harry drank bottle after bottle in a bored manner until his eyes dimmed, and by the way, he gloated and watched his friend cry bitterly.

After the movie is over and the lights are turned on,

"Aren't you moved?"

Pooh questioned in a crying voice dissatisfied.

Harry threw his head back and drank another bottle of wine.

He smiled drunkenly: "I was a little moved at first, but after seeing you crying with a lot of tears and snot, and hiccupping non-stop, I just want to laugh."

"Harry Osborn!! Is that how you are a good brother?"

"Okay, my fault! I'll find a way to comfort you right now, how about it?"

"What way?"

"Well... Titanic was a man and a woman's love..."

"nonsense."

"But you're gay, Pooh, have you ever imagined some scenes, if there are two men?"

"It can't happen." Pooh said speechlessly: "Although you can think about it, you can't imagine it at all!"

"Do you want to try?" The corners of Harry's lips twitched slightly, and he leaned over to approach him with a smirk.

Pooh looked away helplessly.

At this time, he suddenly saw the empty wine bottles that he didn't know when he drank them all, and he couldn't help but exclaimed: "My God, you actually drank them all!"

Harry snorted and didn't answer.

Pooh couldn't help frowning, and asked worriedly, "Harry, there's something wrong with you, are you drunk?"

"I don't get drunk that easily!"

Harry smiled, stood up unsteadily, and began to slowly unbutton his shirt.

I have to say that his method is very effective.

Sure enough, Pooh completely forgot about being moved by the movie to the point where he couldn't stop crying, and he looked terrified: "What do you want to do!"

"Jack can draw, Pooh, you can too..."

Harry had finished unbuttoning his shirt by this time, and took off his shirt in a snap.At the same time, with his upper body naked, he grabbed Pooh's schoolbag casually, unzipped the zipper, and poured out all the contents inside with a "crash" with his head down.

Then, he bent down and picked up the sketchbook that Pooh always carried, and stuffed it into his arms: "Come on, just like Jack draws rose, let me try to draw one!"

"I swear, you're absolutely drunk, Harry!"

Pooh stared at him dumbfounded. Although he tried his best to close his eyes, his gaze wandered back and forth uncontrollably over his naked upper body... Why does he look muscular even though he usually looks weak! ? !

"I'm not drunk, I'll send you a good bonus tonight."

Harry unbuttoned his belt, took off his trousers, and casually kicked it aside with his feet. After swaying around naked, he plopped back on the sofa again.

He propped his head on his hands, lay there naked, and posed the classic Titanic pose. He looked as if he was drunk and lost his way, but he licked his lips with the tip of his tongue, and slightly evoked a seductive smile. : "How about it, am I a brother?!"

P benefits, go to your md brother!You drunk!

Pooh's Adam's apple twitched slightly, a little dazed, his fingers clenched the sketchbook tightly, his forehead was sweating, and his heart was full of grass and mud.

What kind of good brother is this?

Would a good brother test his fragile willpower like this?

"Draw!" Harry called out to him.

"Uh..." Pooh struggled to move his gaze, and casually found a reason: "There is no heart of the ocean."

Harry burst out laughing, and replied casually: "Please, what's the use of having that thing? You're gay, if you really have it, where do you want me to hang it more? On the chest, or on the jib? Don't talk nonsense, Are you going to paint or not, coward?"

Pooh was speechless.

He took a deep breath, tried his best to ignore the strange feeling in his lower abdomen, and silently said "that's your good brother" a hundred times in his heart!Then, he calmly picked up the shirt on the ground and tried to cover it up: "Harry, you are drunk, I will help you go back to the bedroom to sleep."

Harry smiled, took his hand, and placed it gently on his chest.

After feeling the pounding heartbeat, Pooh instantly felt that his whole body was about to explode: "Harry, please, don't make trouble! I really don't want to have a complete relationship with me tomorrow morning when you wake up and remember everything. Break up."

"coward!"

Harry let go of his hand all at once, and burst out laughing.

"Bastard!" After being stunned for a moment, Pooh immediately wanted to beat him to death: "Are you pretending to be drunk to play me?"

"Guess what?" Harry said half-truthfully with a drunken look on his face.

Pooh pursed his lips and looked at him with complicated brown eyes.

For about ten seconds, there was a subtle silence between the two of them.

"Go and get dressed, Harry," whispered Pooh first.

"I'm not cold." Harry replied teasingly.

"Harry."

"Be fair, Pooh! Now that I've let you see it all, are you going to let it go?"

"What the hell is going on with you tonight?"

"Fair, Pooh. Come on, show me your clothes too, take the initiative, don't let me do it myself!"

"Are you serious?"

"of course."

"Fuck you, Harry!"

"Comeon, Pooh! You are not a woman, what are you afraid of! If you can't do it, just admit that you don't dare! Say Vinicius is a coward!!"

What a fucking fuck!

Asshole brother!Asshole buddy!Bastard Harry!

Pooh stared closely at Harry's eyes, gritted his teeth, and lifted up his clothes.

He lowered his head and took off his pullover T-shirt, bent over and took off his socks, reached out to unbutton and zipper his jeans, and only when he pulled them down halfway...

Suddenly Harry jumped up!

Pooh staggered from being hit, and then his lips were forcefully pried open.

Although he barely squeezed out a 'fuck' syllable from between his teeth, Harry's tongue was caught in the next moment.

This inexplicable friend who suddenly went crazy, with strange bright colors and a smile in his blue eyes, hooked his tongue together, and slowly scanned every part of his mouth...

A very long kiss.

It wasn't until he let go that Pooh, who was dying, felt alive again.

"You... what the hell are you trying to do? Harry!"

"It's all said to give you benefits!"

"Please, Harry." Pooh asked a little frantically, "Is it fun to play me?"

Harry stared at him for a while, then said with some hesitation: "Pooh, I may treat you...to you...maybe a little...only a little..."

"Harry, are you home? Where are the servants?"

A voice suddenly came from downstairs.

"My God! It's my father."

Harry woke up instantly.

"What? Didn't you say that his home is his office and he never goes home?" Pooh also became incoherent.

He immediately pushed Harry away, and frantically began to pull up his trousers.

"Harry Osborn, what the hell are you doing, why is there no one at home?!"

Norman Osborn's voice came closer.

"It's too late to get dressed!" Harry immediately pushed him anxiously: "You hide, damn it, my dad knows you're gay."

Pooh was startled: "What do you mean?"

"I can't let my dad see us together like this," Harry said anxiously.

"What do we look like?"

"Pooh!"

"All right! All right! Who the hell is the coward?"

Pooh gritted his teeth and returned the title intact!

"Whatever you say."

Harry hesitated for a second, not only did not refute, but continued to urge: "If you really can't avoid it, you should quickly think of a reasonable reason."

"Think of a reason! I have no reason!" Pooh whispered angrily.

Then, he looked around, turned around suddenly, pulled up the window, and was about to jump out.

"Stop, this is the second floor, do you want to throw yourself to death?" Harry hurriedly reached out and grabbed him.

"I've climbed the third floor before, it's okay, let it go!" Pooh shouted.

"Don't let go, you will get hurt!"

"Let go, it's too late!"

"Harry, are you in there? I'm in!"

The sound of Norman pushing the door sounded.

Shocked, Harry let go of his hand.

Outside the window, there was a muffled 'bang'.

"what?"

Norman Osborn stood at the door and asked in surprise.

"No... nothing."

Harry turned his head slowly, and with his fingers hidden behind his back, still trembling a little, he tried to smile at his dad.

Sure enough, Norman immediately stopped thinking about something, because all his attention was attracted by his own son.

A movie screening room, empty wine bottles on the floor, plus a box of tissues that were used up and thrown away...and...

"Harry!"

He frowned, and asked expressionlessly, "You...you are naked...what are you doing in the house?"

"...It's a bit hot today." Harry picked up the shirt on the ground to cover his body, and quietly kicked the T-shirt and socks that Pooh didn't have time to wear to the sofa under the sofa.

Then, pretending to be nonchalant, he fanned his cheeks with his palm and explained: "This weather is really hot!"

"Hot?" Norman Osborn's expression was very complicated.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, and said sarcastically: "The highest temperature today is only 9 degrees, and you are already running naked at home?"