$7.49

2: For You? Gladly

Travis spent the next few days doing exactly what he had done every other day since the pretty boy with the strong frame and flushed cheeks had walked into the store: nothing.

And sometimes his Chemistry homework.

He had been one of those "gifted kids" back when knowing math was easy and when everything wasn't so muddied with variables and imaginary numbers and when would he even need any of this anyways? He was undoubtably an English kid. Always had been, since he decided that creating poetry in fifth grade was more fun than learning about rocks and plant life and negative numbers.

Chemistry was a required class for graduation, and he wished that he could have skipped it in any way possible. He liked to work on it before any of his other work was due. Just get it over with, he'd told himself every time the register was vacant of customers wanting to checkout books or records. He would lug his backpack from below the counter and start on whatever new chemical process there was to learn about, but he didn't have to like it.

He was calculating the molarity of substance number six when a deep voice cleared its throat from across the counter.

It was him. Him, in another one of his tight-fitting technical fabric shirts and varsity (?) jacket. Travis's heart fluttered at the sight of him, though it didn't seem that the impatiently bored face staring back at him could return the feeling.

"Hey, you're back!" Travis goaded, shooting the hunk of man in front of him a toothy grin. It's just too fun to rile him up, he thought. Putty in my hands.

His eyes widened, then his brow furrowed in annoyance. "I wasn't—"

Travis help up his hand and cut him off. "Don't lie to me. I'd recognize that pretty little face anywhere," he snickered, extending his hand to reach for the berry-red book in the jock's hand.

I wonder if I could make his face flush as red as the cover, he thought to himself.

Travis lifted his brow as he scanned the cover. "Romeo and Juliet? Again?" he questioned, meeting the handsome customer's gaze. If looks could kill, Travis should have been writhing on the floor from multiple stab wounds.

"First of all, fuck you," the boy said without a lick of fire behind his tone. "Second of all, I'm buying it for a family member of mine."

"A terrible excuse to talk to me, really," Travis deadpanned, watching the color on the boy's neck reach a very pretty pink hue as he took a deep breath through his nose to calm himself.

"My aunt. She saw me wrapping up the copy I got for my girlfriend," he put emphasis on the last word as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Clearly anxious to leave today, Travis thought to himself as he put the scanner back in its holder. If he stopped walking straight into my traps this whole transaction would go quicker.

"Oh yeah," Travis said with mock sadness in his tone, "that. I pity the girl sharing your sheets. Or do I envy her?" He smirked mischievously as the man across from him became visibly angered.

He scowled at the cashier harder and took a step closer to the counter. "You watch your mouth," he said, "or I'll...." he trailed off as Travis began to smile wider and wider. The boy  took a step away from the counter to collect himself and clasped his hands around the backside of his head, averting the eyes that were currently drinking him in like air in his lungs.

A shame, really, that you don't like men. I don't think I would be able to function if you did.

"Or you'll what? Get me fired? I don't need this job any more than you need that girl."  The boys eyes snapped up at him once more. Push back, he wanted to say. He twirled the pencil he was using to do his Chem homework between his middle and forefinger. "Does she do it for you? If not I'd be happy to oblige," he said lyrically as the boy across from him scoffed.

"Suck a dick."

He took the bait, he beamed.

"For you? Gladly. Your total is $7.49."

The boy once again shoved the cash at the counter, snagged the book, and left before Travis could stop laughing and ask him if he wanted his receipt.