Boys Will Be Boys (discontinued)

Chapter Three

It was a Friday night, we shouldn't have been getting shit-faced drunk, yet here we were. Marco -- a fucking lightweight -- had passed out after the second dirty movie, and he was quietly snoring under the bean bag chair in my family room. Roger, ever so artistically, drew Marco a full sleeve of promiscuous tattoos. Busty women in fishnets danced up and down Marco's toned bicep; drawings of condoms and booze decorating his forearm. DJ managed to push Roger off Marco for a bit and arranged it so that the sucker could breath from his spot under the chair. Lukas helped DJ put a blanket over Marco's dense body as Roger and I surfed Netflix.

"There's nothing to fucking waaatttchhh" I whined, throwing myself onto the couch where I was immediately pushed off by DJ, Lukas catching my shoulders before I cracked my head on the floor. Lukas laughed before gently letting me drop to the floor, grabbing the remote from my outstretched hands. Lukas had finally showed up, explaining that his booty-call had been a little clingy. I didn't care enough to argue.

Lukas began to absently clicked buttons on the remote. Too tired to put up a fight, I slumped down and watched through blurry eyes as he exited Netflix and turned the Xbox on instead.

I was by no means a lightweight, but with the amount of booze I'd drank I wasn't surprised that I was a little tipsy. DJ was a rather sober drunk, ironic really, but he tended to get serious and brooding when he drank alcohol. He and Lukas decided to stay relatively alert for the evening as Roger, Marco and I indulged in the sweet sweet booze that DJ had smuggled. Fruity champagnes to 60 proof, DJ had access to it all since his parents were huge alcohol fanatic -- not alcoholics, DJ was very specific about that.

I heard the doorbell ring from far away and got up to answer it, Lukas getting up to come with me. DJ nodded at us, turning his attention to the sleeping Marco and oddly-quiet Roger. Apparently Marco had smoked a blunt before showing up to my house, hence why he was out so fast. Roger was just weird.

"It's probably the pizza" Lukas offered as we made our way to the front door. I nodded and stayed behind him, money in hand. I wasn't too sure if the pizza delivery guy could smell the beer on me, but just to be sure I would let Lukas make the transaction instead.

Sure enough, I peered through the peephole and saw a short guy with a pizza box-warmer in his hands. His breath was coming out in foggy clouds so I quickly opened the door.

"Hey man"

"H-hi" He said shyly. A pinkish blush began to spread as Lukas grabbed the cash from my hand and gave it to the boy.

"Forty-three right?"

"N-no, I'm sixteen!" The boy spluttered, his eyes widening in acute alarm. I snickered at his stutter, only quietening when Lukas shot me a look.

"Cool, I'm seventeen. But the pizza is forty-three dollars right?"

"Oh, y-yeah, s-sorry" The boy looked down at his feet before giving Lukas the thingy to sign. I slid in front of Lukas and quickly signed it, wincing as my left elbow hit the doorframe.

"Ah, ouch" I said lamely, cradling my elbow before grabbing the pizza from the delivery boy. Whispering a quick good night, I began to stumble over to the kitchen to put the pizza down. When I saw that Lukas wasn't following me I turned around and eyes him with confusion.

"Dude, are you coming?"

"Yeah yeah, gimme a second"

I shrugged and made my way to the kitchen. Unceremoniously, I dumped the pizza on the kitchen counter before pouring myself a glass of water. Jesus, I got hella sweaty when I got drunk. I languidly pulled my shirt off and mopped my forehead with it. Suddenly, I heard a weird sound from the hall.

"Lukas? Dipshit? You good bro?" I walked into the hallway, shirt still bundled up in my hand.

I frowned when I saw Lukas waving off an extremely flustered pizza boy. If I had thought he was blushing before, I was dead wrong. This kid looked like a fucking stoplight, but like, a hella short stoplight. The kid looked behind Lukas and saw me, his eyes bugging out of his head.

"I gotta go!" He squeaked before bounding down my front steps. I walked up next to Lukas and watched the boy get into his car and skirt away.

"The fuck was he on?" I casually said, leaning against the doorframe. The breeze drifted in and I found myself getting cold again, so I pulled my shirt on again. It was the middle of February and, though the winter had been warm, I wasn't keen on catching a cold right now. After games? Sure, I'd walk around shirtless. But at my own house? Nah, there was no one here to impress.

"Lukas?" Lukas had gone oddly silent and I turned to look at him.

His hand was curled into a fist, a small post-it-sized piece of paper crumpled in his grasp. His eyes were unfocused and hazy, so I took the opportunity to snatch the paper from his fist. Immediately, he animated and flung himself at me to get it back. My eyes widened as I saw him lunge and I quickly ran upstairs, trying to lock myself into my room. I tried opening the paper as I ran, but Lukas' long ass legs were right behind me. The stairs creaked tiredly as we shot up them, and I could vaguely hear Lukas yelling behind me.

"Kieran! Give me that paper!"

I shot into my Mum's room and slammed the door behind me, hearing a loud thump as he rammed into the wood. Twisting the knob, I quickly locked the door as he began to shout again on the other side. I heard him fumble with the lock and the smile slipped off my face as I realised he was picking it.

How the fuck?

For a brief moment I pulled a stupid-blonde and watched dumbly as the door swung open.

"Kieran. Give me the paper" Lukas' voice was deathly silent. Normally, if Lukas ever went fully serious me, I would hand the sheet over in a heartbeat. But drunken me, with the alcohol permeating through my brain, decided to hold out on him a little longer.

"Nuh Uh" I stuck my tongue out and began to back up as he prowled forwards.

"What does it say anyways?" I opened up the paper only to have him tackle me onto the bed, but it was too late. Lukas ripped the paper from me, his face an angry red. He glared at me, pinning my hands down as I began to crack up.

"A number?! He gave you his fucking number?!" Tears start beading at the corner of my eyes becuase of how hard I'm laughing. If it wasn't for Lukas on top of me I would've rolled clean of the bed, maybe even continued rolling down the stairs.

"Now that I think of it, he did look like a poof right? A right little fairy--"

"Shut the fuck up Mogan" Lukas pushes off of me, his entire body weight crushing my chest in the process. The wind gets knocked out of my and I'm left gasping as Lukas slams the door to my Mum's room and makes his way downstairs.

I drift off into a drunken stupor as I hear him begin to yell downstairs.

Why the hell is he so triggered?

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