Running From The Past

CHAPTER 14: SPEECHLESS

"I could feel your eyes on me," he persisted, looking up at Owen innocently.

"So you're saying I stared you awake?" the jock snickered.

"Precisely."

"That's bullshit."

"It's science."

"I failed science."

Conan sat up with a chuckle. "How do you fail science of all classes? That's almost as bad as failing English."

Owen looked at the dirty ground. "I failed English too," he grumbled.

That was why his parents didn't give a rat's ass about him. He was the only one in their family that wasn't book smart. Usually, he hated when people pointed out his lack of school-related intelligence, but for some reason, his stupid heart managed to find it endearing because it was Conan saying it.

Anyone else he would've punched and told to fuck off.

"Do you want me to help you with your grades sometime?" Conan giggled.

"It's fine," Owen denied, knowing it would be embarrassing. "Actually I changed my mind. Yes," he corrected after he realized that meant he'd get to spend more time with Conan.

Conan laughed again at Owen's childlike behavior. He liked how he could be an innocent baby one minute and a demanding leader the next. It was hot.

"Why the sudden change of heart?" he quizzed, leaning back against the window.

Owen shrugged. "Passing senior year would be nice."

That actually wasn't a lie. He was failing all of his classes and was dangerously close to not being able to graduate.

"What classes do you need help in?"

He tapped his chin in thought. "Hmm. Well, there's economics, geometry, chemistry, history..."

"Are you going to name your entire schedule?" Conan asked in amusement.

"Maybe." Owen almost blushed. Almost.

"Well, I can try to help you with all of those. I've already taken all those classes in Texas," he said. "Why haven't you just gotten a tutor?"

Owen sucked in his teeth. His home life was a sore subject for him. "My parents kind of gave up and stopped giving a shit," he spoke casually, but there was a bitterness evident in his voice.

"Gave up?" Conan asked sadly. "That's awful. Why would they do that?"

"Owen, what the hell is this?" his father demanded, waving the twelve-year-old's report card in his face. He had two B's, four C's, one D, and an F. He had worked really hard to get those grades and he thought they were good because of how much effort he put in.

"Uhh..." he trailed off sheepishly. "A piece of paper?"

"No, this is your future, Owen!" he seethed and gripped the collar of his son's shirt who lost his smile immediately.

"My future?" he asked with innocent wide eyes.

"Yes, your future," he confirmed. There was a hard look on his face. "Fucking worthless." He tore the piece of paper in half, straight down the middle.

"B-But I worked really hard on that," Owen protested with tears in his eyes.

His father was scaring him. The twelve-year-old hadn't hit puberty yet and barely reached his dad's ribs. The man was incredibly terrifying and pissing him off was a guaranteed death sentence.

"You worked hard?" he snickered. "You call that bullshit hard work?"

He shuffled his feet on the ground with a frown. "Yes," he said meekly.

"God, where did your mother and I go wrong with you?" He groaned. "Why can't you just be like your brothers and sisters?"

"I don't know, I'm sorry. I'll do better. Promise." He choked down his tears that were ready to pour down his cheeks.

"Don't even bother." His dad crumpled up the torn piece of paper and tossed it into the trash can. "You're never going to be shit anyway."

When the man walked away he finally allowed himself to cry, reaching into the filthy trash to fish out his report card.

Owen picked at his fingernails and gulped. "Because I'm just some dumb jock I guess."

"That's not true." Conan placed a hand on the other's bicep comfortingly. He noted how much muscle was on his arm but decided now was not the time to get all hot and bothered over him.

"Isn't it?" Owen huffed but covered up his pain with his signature lopsided grin. "But I honestly don't care what those stuck-up snobs think. I'm going to prove them wrong one day when I'm an NFL star or something one day."

"And this is why you're not just some 'dumb jock'. School isn't everyone's thing. We all have different talents and honestly, getting good grades doesn't make you stand out very much. But that does." Conan smiled back at him, squeezing his shoulder.

Owen stared down at him in shock. For once, the chatterbox was speechless.

No one had ever said anything like that to him before. No one had ever given enough of a shit to comfort him. No one had ever looked beyond the surface to see the hurt he was hiding inside of him.

Owen's breathing grew heavy as his intense gaze never left Conan's. His eyes slowly trailed down to his lips that looked so damn inviting. They were taunting him.

He wouldn't stand for it. Not anymore.

His big hands cupped Conan's face as he connected their lips. Conan's fingers circled into Owen's shirt in surprise. He too had been craving a kiss but never in a million years did he think it would ever actually happen.

He pushed the smaller boy down so that the bus seat was hiding them from everyone's view. He was positioned over Conan, their lips moving together in sync. The pink flesh felt just as soft as it looked.

Owen passionately kissed him, his grip strong as he held onto Conan who had his fingers twisted in Owen's now disheveled hair. All the pent-up desire for one another was revealed in one deep, loving kiss.

Owen wasn't thinking about the consequences or what was going to happen next. He was only thinking about how badly he wanted to feel Conan's smaller body against his larger one.

Conan wasn't thinking about his own consequences either. He didn't consider that Owen being so close to his body was dangerous and how he was so close to revealing his own secret.