7-Eleven [Lashton AU]

Chapter 30

*Luke's POV*

I sat on my bed with my legs crossed, Irvin's backpack resting on my lap. I was playing with the strap of the backpack, wondering why Irvin would even steal in the first place.

I should turn him into the police. I know who he is and I know where he lives. I can easily lead the FBI to his apartment. It's the right thing to do.

But I really don't want to do that. I don't want the FBI to take him away. If I didn't know who he was, then I would've thought otherwise, but... damn it, why did he have to come into my life?

Most of all, I'm really hoping this is some kind if misunderstanding, like there has to be another reason why his backpack is at the side of my house. Maybe he was stalking me and just happened to leave his backpack there. Or the thief took his backpack and tried to frame him.

But to me the first option doesn't seem like something that'd happen and the thief has to be Irvin. If not, then how would one explain all of my money that was placed in the mailbox by the thief?

I'll just have to hope that he wasn't the thief in the first place. I don't like the idea of someone I like being a criminal.

I pushed the thieving thoughts to the back of my mind as curiosity took over me about what else was in his backpack other than his clothes, so I decided to dig through it.

I unzipped the backpack and pulled out his jeans and shirt, but I ended up stopping there as I held his clothes in my hands. Then something flashed in my mind and I dropped the clothes into the backpack, a bit startled by what I just thought of.

Why the hell did I think of doing something dirty to Irvin against a wall?

I shook my head, like I was going to get rid of the thought, but it remained.

The way he looked so helpless under my touch, writhing as my fingers explored every inch of his body. His mouth agape and a small trail of his saliva nearly leaving from his swollen lips that I've kissed and tugged at with my teeth so many times.

The image that I've created of him was going to make it even more difficult for me to handle the rest of tonight.

A knock at my door cut my thoughts off and made me jump in surprise. I looked over at the door and saw Ben standing there, leaning against the doorway.

"How're you doin' now?" he asked, walking over to me. He eyed the backpack. "Whose is that?"

"M-Mine," I muttered.

Ben just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Let me see it." He then forcefully pulled the bag from me and turned away.

"Ben! Stop! Give it!" I cried out, jumping off the bed and trying to get the backpack as he started looking through it.

"Some random pony shirt, pair of jeans that are too small for you," he said as he dug through the bag. "You got some pretty shitty stuff in here."

"I said give it back!"

His wide grin that was on his face fell when he pulled out something else.

"A retractable pole?" he said in a questioning way before digging through the backpack again. "Since when were you a stripper? Actually, don't answer that. You're eighteen now. Be whatever the hell you want. Look, a pair of keys, too." Then he pulled out a wallet and then dropped everything but the wallet into the backpack before throwing it at me as he ran out.

"Ben!" I shouted, placing the backpack on top of my bed before I ran out and headed towards his room next door. I found him seated on his chair by the desk as he opened it up.