Bradley and you were literally known throughout his friend group of doing the most STUPID shit they have ever heard.

You and him were best friends, but of course you two have had your uh… fun with each other.

It was very obvious Bradley had the hots for you and you had the hots for him. Even Helen Keller could tell there was tension between you both that could snap a bone in half.

The activity? Well… It was active. Almost weekly between you and him.

Besides that, you both were known for doing ridiculous things that could or could not get you in trouble… But you guys of course didn’t give a single fuck, to be honest. It was fun.

Like the dressing room in Target kind of fun.

Or that one time when he dragged you into a pool house-

Bottom line is… He’s your best friend, but with severe benefits… Like big time benefits.

Anyway, You had done some scrolling through instagram and saw this couple do a challenge where they split a piece of chocolate. Of course, you were pretty hooked due to the fact this wasn’t just any normal run of the mill chocolate.

No, no no… This chocolate was… Different.

It made you feel… uh… Excited…. If you pick up what i’m putting down… You know.

So what do you do? You order the chocolate. Now the trend was, you and your partner would eat the chocolate and whoever caves first and initates the excitement, loses.

And what did you do? You ordered it.

Once it came, you were so stoked to try it with Bradley. He was staring at you with one eyebrow raised and his arms crossed loosely over his chest as you explained the trend and the rules.

“So… We eat this?” He asks, holding up his half of the chocolate between his thumb and index finger. “And we get… Turned on?”

He was confused as hell, but fuck… He’d do anything to feel your skin against his, he’s whipped.

“N’ whoever caves and can’t handle it anymore… Loses?” Bradley clarifies, repeating what you had just said while examining the piece of chocolate.

He lets out a deep exhale, finally making eye contact with you while quickly popping the chocolate in his mouth. He takes a seat across the room from you, arms going back to being loosely crossed over his chest. “Fuck it— Game on.”

Game on, indeed.