waste||moba

thirteen||guilt

matt prodded at the cold bits of home fries with his fork, his eyes flicking back and fourth from his plate to joba. the blond sat across from him sipping a coffee and gazing mindlessly around the empty diner, which was decorated with old tile walls and bands of pink and white neon lights around the perimeter. he hummed along to hey jude by the beatles, which played quietly in the background.

"joba," matt sighed. the taller boy's gaze rested on matt's face and the dark-haired boy continued, "you know i love you so much, right?"

"i do." joba smiled warmly, his heart fluttering in his chest, "and you know i love you."

"of course." matt purred.

"and i would love you just a little more if you'd stop playing with your food." joba said, a smirk dancing on his lips. matt glared at him from under his brows and he let his fork fall from his fingers. "when we go back can we hotbox your car?" he asked quietly.

joba glanced at the time on his phone. it was still not even 7 in the morning and he didn't feel like being faded this early. "i don't know. i have to drive my sister to school and i don't want it to smell like weed." he lied.

"okay." matt said sadly.

"are you okay to go back home after this?" the blond asked. matt nodded and slinked back in his seat. "he's probably asleep by now. thank you for taking me out, by the way. my ex would've never done this."

hearing matt talk about his ex struck a chord in joba. he didn't necessarily feel saddened by it, but it upset him that he might still think about her from time to time, even if it was in a negative light. part of him wished that matt could just forget her all together and act as if she was never there, but that was just joba's needy and immature side speaking. "it's no problem." joba shrugged. "i like spending time with you anyways."

"my dad's a real fuckin' character, let me tell you," matt said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "three years ago that fucker promised me he'd stop drinking and every year he'd keep saying the same damn thing. he never fully stopped. he'd quit for a month or two and give my mom and i some sense of hope, but he'd just go right back to drinking once he seemed to not need it anymore. i guess he thought he could get away with a drink or two and he'd be fine."

"has he ever considered rehab?" joba asked timidly, aware of how sensitive the subject was.

"i brought it up the last time he was sober but he got all pissed at me and said he didn't need help and he could do it on his own." matt's tone softened to one of sorrow rather than anger. joba frowned and rubbed his thumb over the back of matt's hand. "im sorry, baby." he said quietly.

"it's whatever." matt shrugged. "what time is it?" he asked.

"six forty." joba murmured, the words not having any meaning to him until matt opened his mouth to speak and the realization that joba had to be at his first period class in twenty minutes. "fuck." he hissed.

"holy shit, i didn't even realize... get the check!" matt muttered hurriedly, glancing over his shoulder for their waitress. joba waved over the young woman who served them and in a frenzy tossed a $50 her direction as he rushed out the door announcing, "keep the change!"

joba and matt scrambled into joba's truck and before he could buckle his seatbelt, he was speeding down the street. matt exhaled as he buckled himself and burst into a fit of laughter. joba glared at his boyfriend from the corner of his eye before chuckling to himself. "oh boy," he breathed, reaching over and buckling himself, "there isn't ever a dull moment with you."

"you're tellin me." matt scoffed, "just drop me off at home, i'll get romil to drive me."

"doesn't he have school today too...?" joba said.