Yes, Mr. Demon Boy? (BoyxBoy)

Chapter Twenty-One

He gripped the back of my t-shirt harder. “Oh fuck it, just kiss me already. Better yet,” he said, gripping my face with his soft hands, pulling me towards his glowing eyes with a confidence Casp never had. He made sure our lips were almost touching, our breathing mingling wordlessly for a few seconds, both of us waiting for him to finish his thought. He didn’t blink, but neither did I. Then he spoke in a voice so deep and British and vulgar that it was hard from keeping my excitement inside of me. “Just bloody fuck me already, Mase.”

Oh he didn’t have to tell me twice.

~~

Sam

I was already blasting Blank Space with all the windows of my Impala down when I pulled out of my parking space and almost hit Damien. He was walking to his own car after a long school day, head down, stack of papers in his hands, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. I jammed on the breaks once I saw him, but the screeching of my tires made him glare up at the driver who almost just killed him. And right as he was sticking out his middle finger, his eyes caught my sheepish smile and apologetic wave.

"Watch yourself Powers," he said under his breath, shaking his head before he continued walking. I grinned as he mumbled something about my music choice before tossing his stuff in the back of his own car. So I pulled out and drove past him, returning his slighted eyes and small wave.

"Yo dyl!"

Dylan was tossing his book bag into the backside of his jeep when I pulled up alongside him. He pulled his head out of the door and lite up as I leaned out the driver’s side window.

“Hey Sammyboy, can I still come over?” he asked, a beaming smile on his perfect set of white teeth. He was a lanky kid with unruly brown hair and not the best fashion sense, but he was one of the most popular kids in the school. He had a very respectable aura about him. He was hilarious and well known, but for good reasons. He always got A’s and he never got into trouble. He came from a nice suburban family and got along well with almost everyone he talked to.

“Heck yeah, you know where to go right?”

He nodded enthusiastically, then opened up the driver’s side door and winked. “Race ya,” he said, an eyebrow raised. I snickered and replied with a cocky comment before flooring it out of the parking lot. I was never one to lose, especially not to a competitive kid like him.

Dylan and I did end up going out the other night. I came over to his house and met his alpaca or llama or whatever it was, then we drove down to the movie theater and saw some horror movie with really good graphics. Dylan and I had fun together. We got along really well.

Which is why when we got to my house ( I beat him of course) I let him walk right in and plop down on the couch as he flipped through channels while I made popcorn. I peaked over my shoulder through the two marble columns and into the white-as-snow living room. Dylan was eyeing the TV animatedly, scrolling through on-demand like he was sitting on his own couch. I could do this. I could get used to this. I could get used to him.

Just as the thought occurred in my head, he glanced over at me with a goofy smile.

“Let’s watch another scary movie. Odds are you’ll jump into my lap before I jump into yours,” he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows with a smug grin. I shook my head and chuckled.

“You’re on.” He jokingly fist pumped in response, before turning back to the TV.  But just as I was about to join him, my doorbell rang.

“I’ll be right back,” I muttered to Dylan who hummed in response, content with flipping through movies trailers.