Taste Of Him [b×b]

Taste Of Him

Reese stares at his hands quietly as he simply contemplates... everything.

He's bored and inexplicably tired, the blabbering of his English teacher is nothing but a buzz that is tempting him to sleep.

He's forced to wake up some in the middle of discussing A Midsummer Night's Dream when his traitorous stomach decides to grumble extremely loud to his utter horror. Immediately he feels his cheeks color with embarrassment as he wraps his arms around his middle discretely.

He licks his dry lips with his tongue before pressing his flushed cheek against the cool top of his ridiculously tiny desk. He honestly feels nothing but relief when the bell finally rings, signaling the end of class and the beginning of his lunch period.

The classroom fills with chatter from students finally free of the deadly boring grip English Lit had on them. Reese is more than thankful class is over as well, but he has no one to share this relief of freedom with. He's never been able to make friends, always just shy of awkward.

So, he quietly gathers his books, gnawing his bottom lip and wondering if he has enough for lunch today. He's starving, but money has been a bit tight lately and he's resigned to give many things up lately.

With a small frown, he shuffles out the classroom behind the others. He's completely invisible while he navigates through the crowded halls of this unbearable high school and finds himself constantly shoved against lockers or pushed into people who glare at him in return. He always cowers at their sneers.

Today is not any different and he braces himself when he trips over his own feet at a cruel shove.

With eyes tightly closed and body tensed, he waits... and waits. But the pain of face planting never occurs. Instead, he feels warm hands wrapped around his jelly biceps that quickly steady him. Cautiously, he peers up at his savior and his breath hitches.

"Reese," the older teen says, "right?"

"So-Sorry," Reese stammers, trying to pull away from the alpha jock, "won't happen again, Payton, I swear. I'll watch where I'm going and.."

Payton looks at him adorably confused with furry brows scrunched up and plump lips pursed, "I'm not mad."

Reese swallows past the embarrassment stuck in his throat, "Oh."

"Are you okay?" Payton asks.

Reese nods, "I'm... okay."

"I.." and now it's the jock's turn to blush, "I was actually looking for you."

"Me?" Reese wonders.

"Here."

Reese stares at his hands completely befuddled, the bright orange wrapper crinkling under his fingers.

His heart stutters in his chest, but when he looks up, Payton is already lost in the sea of people.

He wishes more than anything that Payton would fall in love with him, that he'd feel the same butterflies that seem to plague Reese.

Reese who wants to savor the taste of him on his lips and get drunk on the jock's intoxicating scent until he spirals into complete bliss.

The End.