SUGAR & ICE. － lbc

° fourteen °

Angry, no, raging. Can was utterly fuming and practically puffing smoke through his nostrils the entirety of his walk home, an evident pout on his lips and his forehead marred with a deep scowl.

How could that jerk just force himself upon innocent Can so roughly? Was he trying to make fun of him in front of Good? Why a kiss, though? It wasn't that he was homophobic, not at all, but the fact that he was forcibly kissed by a guy he couldn't stand left him seething.

Not only had Tin acquired the upper hand throughout that scene, but he also stole Can's first kiss.

Can wouldn't call himself a romantic, far from it actually. Albeit he often dreamed about having a pretty girlfriend who would do fun things with him and would understand his ramblings, he seldom attempted to make it into a reality.

Dreams were nice and all, but Can agreed with everyone else who told him he wasn't cut out to be in a relationship any time soon. Still, his first kiss was special, damn it!

"Ai'Asshole, ugh, why did you do that?"

His whines were never-ending, continuining until his feet scuffing against the sidewalk eventually led him to his house, and along the short driveway which guided him to the slid open doors.

"Cantaloupe, you're finally home," his mother greeted from behind the sink, looking over her shoulder as she finished rinsing her hands.

"Food's ready and waiting!"

Can let out a guttural groan, allowing his backpack to flop to the ground before he slouched into one of the free kitchen stools, limbs dangling bonelessly. He couldn't be bothered to hide the mood he was in and proceeded to lean forward onto his forearms which he had then folded upon the counter, one hand barely managing to keep his head from drooping.

Clearly uninterested in the aspect of eating, Can quietly stared at the steaming plate his mother placed in front of him, not moving to pick up his fork and dig in as he typically would.

At such a point, his parent grew worried, for if there was one thing Can loved more than soccer or their family dog, Gucci, it was food.

"Cantaloupe?" She hesitantly asked, unused to having to deal with a son who didn't wolf down any food in a twenty metre radius.

"Did something happen?"

The kiss flashed in his mind's eye. Tin's face drawing closer until he felt that hot grasp at the nape of his neck, and soft lips contrastingly pressing powerfully upon his own.

"Wah! No, Ma, nothing! Nothing happened!"

The middle-aged woman's eyebrows rose as Can tugged at his dark locks of hair, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut.

"Are you sure? Don't hide anyt－"

"Ugh, Ma, why is P'Can being so loud again?"

The boy's head snapped up at the sound of his sister's voice wafting into the kitchen, as she trudged in wearing her colourful pyjamas, hair a bird's nest upon her head, and round glasses half-slipping off of the bridge of her narrow nose.

"Wow, you look like shit, Ai'Lay."

Lay shot him a powerful glare, reaching for a glass to pour some apple juice into, but maintaining her glower in his direction.

"Well, it's because I've been studying for so long, P'Can," she bit back, tipping the glass to take a sip at her drink.

"You look like shit all the time anyway, so you can't judge me."

With her taunting addition, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and they engaged in a staring contest until Can got bored of it, breaking their battle as to nestle his head back into his hands and release a sound akin to a snort and a huff.

Both the mother and daughter glanced at one another in question, the older shrugging her shoulders as if to say she didn't know anything of the situation and was as clueless as the other was.

Lay heaved a heavy sigh, eyes rolling behind their lenses prior to settling onto the folded form of her brother.

"I'm going back to my room," she abruptly announced, already turning around and leaving, "Please try to keep the volume down, P'Can."

He groaned once more in response.

At a loss and feeling awkward, the woman decided it be best she left him alone for a while, and so after comfortingly rubbing his back a few times, she too left to the sitting room.

Can wanted to yell. Gosh, how aggravated he was! No matter how hard he wiped at his lips, that odd sensation remained, and no matter how stubbornly he tried to think of other things, the scene-which-shall-not-be-mentioned-again replayed, until he couldn't tell whether he had added or removed things which had occurred in that moment.

Had what Tin had done-which-shall-not-be-said gone on for a long time? Was the IC douchebag gay? Was he trying to trick him? Did he like it?

Did Tin － Did Tin like it. Obviously, Can won't even bother asking himself whether it was as bad as he had said it was, because it had to be. It was extremely unpleasant.

Food forgotten and now cooled down, for the most part, he placed the plate back into the barely warm oven and pulled himself up the stairs to his bedroom, silently shutting the door after himself.

The space was quiet and he was alone, his back leaning against the wood and eyes absentmindedly scanning the disorganised desk before him.

Eventually, he flopped face down onto his bed, inhaling the smell of his perfumed sheets and enjoying the freshness of the material against his skin.

How should he behave around Tin now? He desperately wanted to punch him again. That would be satisfying, surely. In fact, that's what he'll do. The next time he sees that rich bastard he'll give him a nice fist to the cheek, just as he had done already.

Rolling onto his back, he nodded in agreement with himself, a conniving grin upon his mouth.

"I'll show you that I'm not easy to mess with, Ai'Asshole."

He briefly fell into silence, palms now beneath the crown of his head as he gazed upon the ceiling over him. Maybe he should talk to Pete for advice. After all, weren't the two of them friends or something? Can assumed so, seeing as how they were always together and Pete tended to defend Tin as much as possible.

Right, he'll ask Pete.

At the decision, the kiss appeared once more in his memory causing him to cover his eyes and flail his legs, kicking and convulsing atop the squeaking mattress.

"Ugh, gross bastard! Why did you do that to me?! You make no sense, jerk!"

"P'Can! Shut up, will you?!"

He tentatively parted his fingers to see through them, peeping as if Lay could see him and he wanted to avoid her burning eyes, his lips already clamped shut.

"Sorry."

It was muffled by his palms and spoken in a hushed tone, but his sister heard him and that was all that mattered.

Can simply settled on sighing for now, wishing the questions would stop ringing so loudly within his mind.

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