SMITTEN🌹⌠J.T⌡

iii

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JOSH WAS FURIOUS, seething, fucking livid.

He'd already had a shitty morning—after having a fight with his older sister, he stormed off to school, only to find that stupid Mikey kid had come back with "groupies," if you could even call them that. Josh was done with them in minutes, the three of them sprawled out on the hallway floor, broken and bleeding.

Unfortunately, he had also sustained a pretty formidable black eye in the process, hence making his mood even sourer.

And now, this stupid, cocky, fucking adorable new kid was in his seat. He'd already reached his limit of new kids for the day, and he was fucking over it.

"Get the fuck outta my seat, nerd," he spat. Tyler looked up from his book with an emotionless gaze. The boy recognized Josh as the punk with the yellow hair and the skateboard, his level of respect diminishing further.

The brunette sighed, snapping his book shut and sitting up. Josh expected him to get up, but instead, he simply proceeded to examine the desk and chair, making the other boy narrow his eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Looking for a name; I can't seem to find one."

It seemed like the whole class sucked in a collective breath, holding it as they watched Josh clench his jaw and grit his teeth. The two boys had a stare down, neither backing down anytime soon. Mr. Rigsby gulped, sensing the impending doom in his wake.

"Mr. Dun, I-I'm sure that there are plenty of better seats you may want to sit in, perhaps one of th—"

"Can it, teach. I'm not sitting anywhere but here," Josh spat, pointing a finger in Tyler's direction. The teacher's mouth lips pressed into a thin line; he wasn't very good with conflict.

The younger quirked a brow, looking at the teacher with a bemused expression. "You're really gonna let him talk to you like that?"

Mr. Rigsby flushed, a couple students whispering around him. He cleared his throat, straightening his tie. "Mr. Dun, sit down please," he said in what he hoped was a stern voice. Josh glared at Mr. Rigsby, lip curling in a snarl before turning back to Tyler.

"Move or else," he growled, leaning down and breathing in Tyler's face. The younger grimaced leaning away at the smell of his breath. He smelled heavily of smoke and blood.

The yellow-haired boy leaned back, and Tyler took notice to the way his coffee eyes scanned his body. He grinned, realizing that this punk found him attractive. The older wasn't too bad himself, but Tyler would never admit that out loud, especially not to some lowlife like him.

The brunette crossed his legs, arching his back as he fluttered his lashes at Josh. He bit down on his cherry-red bottom lip, smirking as the punk tinted a tiny shade of pink.

"Or else what, punk?"

Tyler wasn't necessarily interested in this boy, but he knew that if he found him cute, it would be much harder to beat him up. Tyler knew how to handle himself, and he may have also read a few books on the male sex drive.

Luckily for Josh—or unluckily, he wasn't exactly sure, the bell rung loudly, the tension in the room dissipating as students scampered out of the classroom in a hurry.