Chapter 1

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"Get the fuck out of my room."

See now, for Leo, who was crouched in front of a stranger's bookshelf like some sort of leprous gremlin, getting caught hunched over, contorted, underwear label possibly on show, put him in something of an awkward situation.

Be cool, he told himself, still squatting like a small troll, just be cool Leo.

Leo attempted to unfold himself with as much grace as he could muster, but the thing about crouching in front of bookshelves is that it's an activity that is designed for lonely people in dusty, dark libraries. This is because society likes beautiful things and well, there was nothing remotely beautiful about the way Leo's body lurched and twitched back upright.

Leo leaned an elbow against the bookcase in an attempt to restore some sense of suaveness but still felt inexplicably awkward as he struck his pose. Maybe a lower shelf? Leo leaned his elbow on a lower shelf. No too low, he hissed to himself and shifted his elbow back to a higher shelf. Nope, too high, too high. Leo awkwardly retracted his elbow and stood there with his arms pressed to his sides.

That was when his eyes finally found the beautiful, angry, scowling stranger in front of him. Leo felt like the universe had swung its hand round and round and right into his stomach. His lungs momentarily forgot how to absorb oxygen, his heart forgot how to pump blood, his legs forgot that they were meant to hold up his body. For a beautiful moment that shattered the space-time continuum, every cell in his body screamed at him to tackle that beautiful, angry stranger to the floor and kiss him.

But then space-time stitched itself back together and Leo was left standing there with his arms  glued to his sides like some creepy, trespassing idiot.

The dark haired boy glared daggers and Leo was all of a sudden reminded of the fact that if he screamed he wasn't sure anyone would be able to hear him.

"Who the fuck are you?" The boy grit out.

"Hi, I'm Leo," Leo introduced smarmily, flashing all 32 of his teeth. He fought the urge to stick his nose into the scowling strangers neck and see if he smelt as good as he looked.

As if he could hear Leo's creepy, inappropriate thoughts, the boy glared murderously. "Well Leo, get the fuck out of my room."

What at an ass. Indignation ticked at his throat and Leo raised an eyebrow. "I'm actually visiting the apartment."

"I don't give a fuck."

He could have asked him nicely and Leo probably would have left without argument.

"Well?" The boy asked scathingly, gesturing to the door dismissively.

Something red trickled down Leo's spine. He hated people who had no manners and, with every second that passed, his fantasy of straddling the angry stranger on his bed and riding him like a cowboy morphed into a very different kind of fantasy. There was no cowboy riding; there didn't even need to be a bed. A warehouse would do. An empty, abandoned warehouse, near some woods. And maybe some knives.

"Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?" The dark stranger spat.

Leo glared at him. "I'll leave if you ask nicely," Leo said through gritted teeth.

The boy gaped at him, a vein throbbing at his temple. "Get out!"

"Say please," Leo commanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Please go fuck yourself."

Leo felt himself boiling over, his whole body thrumming with the anger. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Leo hissed venomously.

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