gasoline [boyxboy]

one

"darling so it goes, some things were meant to be,"

Connor had lived in the same, dull suburban neighborhood all his life, working the same after school job since he was thirteen so he could chip in for the bills at his house. He'd man the register, stock the shelves, and suck his boss off, anything for a couple more bucks to sustain him and his deadbeat family.

His father died when he was kid, leaving his mother in crippling debt, which lead her to spiral into a never-ending abyss of alcoholism and drugs, which gave Connor his new stepfather, an Irish pill junkie named Mike. During her somewhat sober moments in the morning, his mom would cook Connor breakfast; eggs benedict with some OJ. They'd talk about his schoolwork and his job but it'd all be gone by the time he was back home. His mother would be gone; his attempts at his trigonometry homework would be accompanied by his younger sister's moans as she fucked some guy for some blow in the room beside his.

He would reach his breaking point in a few hours and he'd carry a blanket and lay underneath the tracks of the L. He'd scream every time the train passed above him and after a couple times, he'd pack up and go home, turn up his old iPod as loud as it would go and play video games, falling asleep somewhere between the sounds blink-182 and gunshots from the old TV in his room.

He'd wake up the next morning and repeat the exact same thing all over again.

His life was monotonous and so fucking boring.

So there he was, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and scanning the customer's items when he came across a bottle of vodka. God, he could use some himself. 

"I need an ID, sir," Connor couldn't bother looking up to check whether it was the correct person or not and once he saw the small rectangular card on the counter, he bagged the clear bottle too.

"Doing a shitty job aren't ya?" he heard a snarky, slightly familiar voice say. Connor looked up into a pair of green eyes which belonged to none other than Enzo Vitali. They had Algebra together.

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon man, we go to school together. That clearly isn't my ID," his words were slightly muffled due to cigarette stuffed between his lips.

"Do you not want your vodka, Enzo?" Connor didn't have time for this. He had to go through inventory before he could lock up and it was already 10:20 at night.

"Honestly, it looks like you could use it more than me."

"Yeah. That'll be $25.99."

Enzo laughed before landing a few crumpled bills on the counter. He didn't leave the store as Connor left his seat behind the register and took out his clipboard, making sure it matched the register.

"When do you get off?"

"In ten."

"Cool, I'll give you a ride," Enzo was now perched on the counter, swinging his legs slowly.

"I'll catch the bus, thanks."

"The next one is at 12. You already missed the one at 10:45."

Connor checked his watch and swore under his breath when he was it was already 11:05.

"You're gonna get mugged, Connor. Accept the ride," Enzo had a slight smirk on his face as he chugged another mouthful of the clear liquid, clearly relishing the burning aftertaste with the way his eyes closed and the tip of his tongue poked out to lick the edges of his lips. His cheeks had a slight blush, making him look almost cherubic, although dressed in a black sweatshirt and skinny jeans. His eyes had glossed over and the edges of his mouth seemed to be tilted upwards almost permanently.

"I promise to share," he slightly giggled, as he waved the half empty bottle in his hand.

Connor's eyes ran over Enzo's flustered face again, noticing the long eyelashes protecting his green eyes which were surrounded by a faint red tinge, stopping at his pink, nearly pouted lips which languidly wrapped around the mouth of the bottle once again, before taking a long drag out of his Marlboro. The bottle was now resting between his thighs as both of his hands were resting on the wood beside him. Connor could feel himself edging towards something dangerous but all the warning bells in his ever-alert brain were getting fogged up by images of Enzo's lips already, so he decided to indulge in something different for once, before he'd walk back into his repetitive life with only memories of a rather angelic boy and his enticing features, almost compelling him to stay.

"Thanks, let me just grab my coat."

****

#562 in Teen Fiction??? I don't fucking know either.

But vote and comment, please.