Coming Up For Air

0.1

Drop a heart, break a name

We're always sleeping in

and sleeping for the wrong team.

-Fall Out Boy, 'Sugar, We're Going Down'

⚑ Luke ⚐

"I'm coming!" Luke yelled out of the supply room, stuffing the last of the paintbrushes into the cabinet and shutting it noisily. He looked down at his jeans, glad that he had been able to spare them of the white paint now spread as evenly as he could get it across the formerly yellow walls.

"Jesus, Luke! It's my fucking break and we've got a customer!" Dave yelled, pounding on the door with his fist. Luke rolled his eyes and stepped out into the brightly lit store. His paint job looked good, he observed. Really good. He smiled to himself and walked up to the register, deftly pinning his name tag to his shirt.

"You work here?" A voice rang out from the right side of the shop and Luke glanced towards it quickly.

"Um, yeah. What can I help you with today?"

"I'm looking for a new cajón. Do you guys stock those?" A guy, probably around Luke's age, was standing next to one of the display drum kits. He had curly hair and dimples and one of those catching smiles that you find yourself involuntarily imitating.

"Yeah. We've got a couple in the back if you want to take a look. We don't keep them out front because people always sit on them." Luke gestured for the boy to follow him, propping open the door to the back room. The boy moved towards him, but during the process of squeezing between the counter and the wall, he--

"No!" Luke lunged toward the guy a moment too late. "No, no, no! My wall!"

"My shirt!" The offender said at the same time, looking down at his now white-paint-covered tee like nothing more unfortunate had ever befallen a black article of clothing. "Oh, shit."

"Now I have to do that whole part over again." Luke groaned.

"My girlfriend's going to kill me." The wall-smear-er said unhappily. "Damn. Damn, damn, damn."

Luke recovered himself. He had a customer and he really didn't want to lose his job because god knows he needed the money.

"Um." He said, quelling the annoyance crawling out of his throat. "You still want to look at those cajóns?"

The boy shook his head, frowning. "No, man. I gotta run home and change as fast as I can or else I'll be late for my date and my girlfriend's already pissed at me for--sorry. Didn't mean to ramble there."

"Okay." Luke said, his heart dropping because if this kid walked out ten minutes to closing, that would mean that not a single sale had been made the entire time he had been on shift, which was not good news for James & Brozz Music Co. or Luke's future employment. The boy turned and started walking toward the door.

"Hey, wait!" Luke said suddenly, fueled by desperation and the turkey sandwich he had eaten for lunch. "I, um, might have a shirt you can borrow. If you look at the cajóns."

"Are you bribing me?" The boy said, a smirk playing on his lips ruefully.

"Nope." Luke dead panned. "Just presenting an option."

The boy chuckled a little. "Okay. Give me the shirt and I'll see what you've got."

Luke heaved a relived sigh, digging around in his bag and pulling out the Nirvana tee he had stashed in it that morning. He was going to put it on after work, but this was more important than looking cool when he walked home.

"Good taste in music, I see." The boy observed with a grin, and once again Luke smiled back.

"Hell yeah. Now this time be careful when you come back here--the paint's wet." Luke said, watching as the boy carefully maneuvered in between the counter and the wall.

"In my defense, you didn't tell me the paint wasn't dry."

"Yeah, my bad." Luke shrugged it off, handing him the shirt. "You gotta bring that back to me sometime, okay?"

"For sure." The boy grinned gratefully, pulling his ruined shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. "My name's Ashton, by the way."

"Luke." Luke said, noticing the smooth skin on Ashton's toned abdomen. He looked like he worked out a lot. He stretched Luke's shirt over his frame, arching his back as he wiggled into it. It was a little tight on him, but it looked fine otherwise. Luke was tall, but he was skinny, and Ashton was definitely defined when it came to the muscle department.

"Okay, so the cajóns now, right? And then I've got to go or Livvy's going to rupture her spleen or something." Luke raised his eyebrows at Ashton, who shot him a what-are-you-gonna-do look. "She's a little bit of a drama queen."

"Sounds like it." Luke said, and proceeded to show the small array of cajóns they had in stock to the impatient Ashton.

"See, the thing is, I need to test sound and a couple other things on these before I buy one, but I don't actually have time right now. Are you working tomorrow?" Ashton said, digging in his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and glanced at the time, and Luke saw him visibly pale as he nodded that yes, he would be working.

"Damn." Ashton muttered. "Okay, I've really got to go. I'll bring you your shirt tomorrow and I'll check out those cajóns then, alright?"

He jumped over the counter, not even bothering with the tight space that the employees used to navigate between the front and the back, and walked swiftly to the door.

"Thanks, Luke. It was nice meeting you. See you tomorrow!"

And then he was gone.

"Bye." Luke murmured to the empty store.

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- a.f.