inspired by this song

Wind whipped around his face, and his hair was wild. Zitao crouched in the seat of the convertible, seatbelt forgetten, as they zipped at eighty-five miles per hour. His laughter rode on the river of air. 

Beside him, Yifan shifted gears with a clunk and took advantage of the bare, four AM freeway. 

They were both high out of their minds. 

Zitao continued to giggle as he leaned into his boyfriend, and he was weightless as the car accelerated over a bump. It was reckless and stupid — the ugly scratch adorned on the Jaguar's side was proof of the matter. Yet, they were rich, in love, and young. Zitao didn't want to be anything else.

Thirty minutes later and the boy was splayed atop the hood of the vehicle. It was still warm. An emptied bottle of Jack Daniel's was clutched in his hand, and Yifan was pressing him into the steel amid their sloppy makeout session. Everything was wet, and the smell of skin and saliva melted together. Here and there, he caught hints of the expensive cologne he had gifted his lover last Christmas. 

"You don't around, do you?" Yifan murmured once a certain someone had dug his knee into the crotch of his pants. A resigned sigh followed. "You gotta stop being such a tease. I'll get jealous."

Their relationship was special. Technically, they weren't exclusive. True, they had been messing around for years, and many considered them an item, but Zitao was too hungry to keep biting from the same apple — Yifan disagreed. 

"You know how I feel," Zitao stated, the devious glint in his eye not fading. His hand fixed itself between the man's legs, and the gold of Yifan's watch glistened in the rising sunshine. Curiously, the younger eyed that piece. The same hand moved to Yifan's wrist, fingertips caressing the smooth material. He was shameless. "I want this."

Yifan breathed out a powerless laugh, nodding at the predictable. "Of course you do." Nonetheless, he unlatched it from himself and buckled it onto Zitao, whose heart only beat for riches. 

"I love you, Yifan," Zitao hummed happily, through and through the king of manipulation. 

To him, Yifan would always be there. Foolishly, he believed that this man would remain devoted to his tricks and games and continue to provide for him until death do they part. 

Like a flower losing its petals, Yifan was stripped with each strike. A part of him was desperate for any hint of faithfulness or loyalty within the boy he loved. In reality, Zitao would never stop wanting. He wanted too much, and it left Yifan mangled, shredding him petal by petal. Soon enough, he would be no more than a stem. 

He would have no choice but to uproot and grow somewhere else.

a short little something. not happy with it but whatever ;;