V (boyxboy short stories)

VVatering the flowers.

     Wyatt was watering the flowers at his mother's request. Well, had been watering them moments ago, but now he was just standing there like a fool, gawking at the neighbor across the street while the green hand sprinkler formed a puddle on the sidewalk.

     She was gorgeous.

     Strands from her short, blonde, ruffled hair sometimes crossed her tiny button nose and freckled cheeks, which were puffy, like a child's. However she was far from one, her body well formed with all the right bits which she didn't exactly flaunt, wearing a pink hoodie and short jeans over grey stockings.

     She giggled to herself and offered a small wave from the porch she was standing on.

     Wyatt blinked, tilted up the sprinkler and glanced around. Once he made sure the wave was meant for him, he returned it hesitantly.

     This could happen. She just matched him so well! Wyatt had light brown hair that barely poked his shoulders, he stood tall in a crowd but could blend right in with his common, indiscernible clothes: blue jeans, large brown long-sleeve t-shirt and vans. He played the guitar, liked long walks on the beach and owned an armful of string bracelets made by his little sister.

     The girl appeared equally plain and they could do plain stuff together: Wyatt could just picture her munch on cotton candy as they walked through the carnival, could imagine her hugging him from behind as he played the guitar, could see themselves cuddling on a couch, watching mainstream comedies.

     Wyatt smiled breathlessly and went to raise his hand, but she looked aside.

     He followed her gaze and paled.

     He heard him before he saw him. A loud and louder rumbling motor, causing a group of kids to move away from the street despite the forgotten ball, an old couple to reconsider crossing the road and an entire flock of birds to fly away.

     The motorcyclist took a sudden, loud brake just between Wyatt and the girl. He took off his helmet, though his face remained hidden, this time by the pitch black hair that had escaped.

     It just about matched everything else on the man: a leather vest over a large hoodie, above large pants and big boots. His pale cheeks were sucked in intentionally, and he had a thin white stick between his lips.

     The girl skipped down the stairs and hurried to him, sitting on the back seat and hugging his upper torso. The man snapped his head towards Wyatt, reaching to the white stick.

     What the boy had thought to be a cigarette was really a lollipop, which he darted his way despite unfinished. With that, he put his helmet back on, made three noises with the monster and rode away, not without the necessary screech.

     Wyatt gawked at the lollipop on the road. He placed the sprinkler down and walked to the road glancing left, where they'd faded away as though they've both been a vision. It couldn't be the case, everyone around was staring just as shocked.

     But once everyone went about their business, he sneaked the lollipop into his pocket.

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     His mother's flowers could not complain at all.

     One, because they were inanimate objects and two, because Wyatt showed big interest in their well being. Daily, he would water them at the same time, about when the girl had to be taken to high school. Wyatt himself was 19 and looking for a job, but his mother has been paying him enough for his choruses.

     He had his own apartment and all, but he decided to stick around a little longer.

     Every morning, like a routine, the same things happened in the same order. He'd stare, the girl would wave, he'd wave back, and then the man would pull up, dart a lollipop Wyatt's way and ride off.

     The lollipops changed color, though.

     A week must've passed of that, and he was afraid to think anything of it. He felt like some character in a cartoon with the same clothes and dialogue or gestures, but something... something did change.

     He used to wake up in bed and feel his heart skip a beat at the thought of the girl. A few days later and his ears twitched at the idea of that horrendous rumble. End of the week and his morning wood had a certain something in mind. Not the girl, not the motorbike, and not the old couple forever trying to cross the street.

     So here he was, watering the... sidewalk. He'd already broken the routine earlier that day by not staring at her but down the road and by choosing not to wave back. He was about to only take it further.

     When Wyatt heard the familiar rumble, he dropped the sprinkler and took wide, dangly steps across the road, despite the departing kids, trembling old couple and scattering birds.

     Upon getting in front of the porch, he looked at the girl that looked back from her assigned spot. She palmed her chest and smiled flattered, only for him to take a 90 degrees turn rightwards and face the approaching blackness.

     With a loud screech and plenty of inertia, the man stopped before him, his wide wheel dangerously close to Wyatt's feet.

     He took off his helmet, hair falling over his eyes, that however peeked from behind the strands. Turns out the eyes were black too, of course.

     Wyatt raised a foot and placed it onto the wheel. The man watched his every move, cheeks sucked in around the lollipop.

     Next, he gripped the handles of the bike and placed his knee on its front, pulling himself up and close to the rider. After a few wobbles, he got settled enough to reach for the lollipop and pull it right out to place it into his own mouth.

     The rider squinted an eye.

     Wyatt took that as a sign to retreat, but the fist around the collar of his large brown long-sleeve t-shirt begged to differ.

     He opened his mouth to talk, but the man slammed it onto his.

     Wyatt hugged his neck for balance and moaned around the candy and tongues in his mouth, head tilted and toes curled inside his vans.

     By the time their make out was finished, the lollipop was halfway consumed. They pulled away with a trail of saliva between them, the candy back on the rider's side.

     Wyatt panted a few breaths and got off the bike only to take a seat in the back. With that, they were on their way.

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     "Pumpkin, why aren't you ready for school?"

     The girl looked up from her cereal.

     "I'm taking the bus from now on."

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Inspired by the video We Came As Romans- I knew you were trouble. Link is up there :)