Oliver Sykes

I wandered into the kitchen, in just my underwear and one of Tom’s oversized shirts. It drapped just over my thighs, lingering above my knees. If there was to be a strong wind, my shirt would have lifted over my head, giving anyone a nice glance at my underwear. I rummaged through the fridge, bent over at my hips. I was thinking, before I bent over, that I should have kneeled, knowing what the Sykes boys were like, and that one of them wouldn't be able to help themselves if I girl, with nothing but Underwear and a shirt on, bent over.
Chaos.
“Goin’ fer a different position?” Tom smirked, prancing behind my bent body, his arms weaving under my hips, ramming his into mine. I swatted him away, retrieving a tub of yoghurt as Tom poured himself a coffee. I winked at him, checking the date on the yoghurt.
Luckily, it was still good.
“Whats the time?” I pulled open the draw, setting my fingers on a spoon and shutting the draw with my hips. I comfortably wiggled myself onto a seat, spooning yoghurt into my mouth. Tom leant back on the sink. As he lifted his cup to take another gulp of the hot liquid, I got enough time to appreciate his figure. Topless, and the top button of his pants undone, I was able to sneak a peek at the colour of his briefs, not that I didn't know already. Considering I had taken them off him numerous of times throughout the morning. My eyes travelled over his stomach, following the hint of hair that led from the top of his pants to his belly button. Spooning another bit of yoghurt into my mouth, I slowly lifted it to my lips, my attention completely on Tom’s topless body. Now, when your attention is altered, and following an attractive, TOPLESS, boy around the kitchen, you tend to forget what you were doing, or where your mouth is. My fingers that held the spoon loosened as my body melted at the glances at Tom’s body. The spoon was inches from my mouth, teetering on my lips. It slipped from my fingers, the spoon catching my lips, yoghurt splattering under my chin, all over my neck, and trailing down onto Tom’s huge shirt. The cold sensation brought me back to reality, looking down at the mess with a frown, pouting over at Tom.
“Yeh got somethin’....” He trailed off, poking a finger into his neck, setting his cup on the bench behind him. “Wha’ is it?”
I lifted up the yoghurt container. “Yoghurt.”
He nodded, stepping around my seat, leaning across the back of it to lick at my neck, pressing light kisses to the flesh. I laughed, cringing to the side he was on, his lips tickling my neck. He offered to lick the rest of the yoghurt, but as I looked down, I noticed it had gone under my shirt. And I knew that if Tom was to start something here in the kitchen, I wasn't sure whether we could stop ourselves, let alone move into another room. So I swatted him away instantly, cleaning myself off with the closest piece of material, the cloth.
Tom froze, glaring back at me. “Yeh ‘ear tha’?”
I paused, tilting my ear into Tom’s direction, a faint door-knock erupting into my ears. I nodded, pointing to the front door, mouthing Oliver.
Tom shook his head, knowing that Oliver wouldn't be at home at this time.
“Last time we open’d tha door, it was bad news.”
I huffed, rolling my eyes. “I’ll answer the door then...”
“No!” Tom shot to my side, pulling me back into the kitchen. “Last time yeh answered it.” I weaved my way out of Tom’s hands, dashing around the corner. Tom was too lazy to pursue me, and even if he did, I had beaten him to the door, he had no choice now. I pressed my eye up against the peep hole, the familiar lanky body seeming longer in the hole.
“Its Curtis!” I called over my shoulder, wrapping my hand around the door knob.
“Sweee’, let ‘im in!” Tom yelled, crashing around in the kitchen. The familiar sound of breaking glass and shattering plates.
All my lovely china.
I sighed, rolling my eyes as I opened the door, an instant smile spread all over my face. I took one glance into Curtis’ eyes, his sad, agonising expression causing my eyes to travel over his body.
I gasped, my hands flying up to my lips.

“Yeh fecking dirty Curtis, Olleh fecked that bitch, she’s probably got every STI known ta man!” Lee exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air as the scoreboard scrolled over the screen. “I feckin’ won! In yeh face!”
Curtis shook his head. “Can we stop talkin’ ‘bout Bethany,”
Lee snickered, landing a light punch on Curtis’ upper arm, deadening it instantly. “Yeh got an Olleh disease.”
Curtis let out a small laugh, finding the funny side to Lee’s argument. After the smile wiped away from his face, he returned the punch, hitting Lee square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.
“Feck, tha’ hurt!” he wheezed buckling over.
“Tha’ll teach yeh, yeh Don't feckin’ touch wha’ yeh cant ‘ave.” Curtis proudly spoke, pompously turning away from Lee, removing himself from the lounge chair, collecting a packet of chips on his exit of the kitchen, Lee still buckled in pain.
“Wha’ were Vegan and Nicholls doin’ t’day?”
Lee shrugged, painfully groaning. “Dunno, Nicholls’ probably with ‘is gal, and Vegan is off feckin’ somethin’ with a heartbeat.”
Curtis chuckled. “Tha’ could be anythin’.”
“Tha’s the point.”
“So in other words, yeh Don't know, and yeh Don't care?”
Lee shot up, answering the question with a smile. Curtis scowled, digging his hands into the chip packed, forcing the chips into him awaiting mouth, one loud crunch erupting at his jaws shut around the dried slices of potato.
“Yeh know...” he munched some more, finally swallowing before trying to talk again. “Yeh should...”
Curtis paused, a knock at the door cutting him off. Lee paused, exchanging a glance with Curtis. Curtis made one more munch, his finger moving between Lee and the door. Lee raised an eyebrow, frowning.
“Answer tha’ door.”
Lee shook his head. “I answered it last time.”
Curtis furrowed his brow. “Jus do it, Don't argue.” he turned away, marching into the kitchen.
“Wha’s up yeh arse? Yeh betteh get rid of it before Tom and Rory get ‘ere, or she’ll do it fer yeh!” he screamed at Curtis, while on the way to the door, accidentally looping his foot in one of Vegan’s lazy shirts. He groaned, kicking at away and dancing towards the door, peering through the meshed glass, an unfamiliar figure standing on the other side.
Lee frowned, shooting a glance over his shoulder at an empty lounge room. “ ‘S not Tom or Rory, ‘nd it Don't look like Olleh or Vegan, cant be Nicholls....”
“Just answer the feckin’ door.”
Lee grumbled to himself, knocking the door open with a twist of the knob.

“Lee? Who is it?”
No answer, only the slight echo of Curtis’ voice as it moved off the walls. Curtis paused, putting the chips down on the bench, slowly walking around the kitchen, peering into the lounge room.
Empty.
“Lee?”
Silence.
Curtis sneaked into the lounge room, leaning over the lounge, getting a clear shot at the doorway. The door was wide open, but no one is sight. He frowned, taking a quick spin around the room, making sure he didn't do anything irrational without checking if Lee was in the house.
“Lee? Yeh know I ‘ate hide ‘n’ seek.” Curtis stuttered, practically falling over his own shoes in fright. He quietly tip-toed to the door, the wind whipping at his clothes. The wind was cold, nipping at his bare ankles as it lifted the pant legs.
“Lee?Buddeh? Yeh out ‘ere?”
Curtis edged put onto the stairs, the front yard clear of any movement. He huffed, ready to turn, when a shuffle of the rose bushes alerted his attention.
“Lee?” he squatted down, stepping onto the step to hobble around the vases, the rose bushes instantly stopped moving.
His skin prickled, the situation reminding him of a scene in a horror flick. He took one quick glance over his shoulder.
Bad Move.
Pain.
White Heat.
Blood.
Voices.
Muffled.
Concrete.
Hard.
Wood.
Splinters.
Lights Out.

“Lee’s gone.”
He muttered out, fainting at the door, my arms immediately shot out, breaking his fall.
“Tom!”
“Rory? What is it?”
Tom was by my side within a few seconds, after the Oliver situation, nothing got past Tom. He inhaled deeply, running hands through his hair as he noticed Curtis passed out in my hands.
“Call Oliver, Now!”
“Wha’ ‘bout that cops?”
I nodded, lets be realistic here. “Better call them first.”
Tom shot off, without another word, without another question. Seeing one friend, bleeding from his face, caused a lot of panic. I kneeled down, scooping Curtis’ head into my lap, turning it to investigate the damage of his face. Tears rimmed my eyes, threatening to fall into Curtis’ face. I held back the sobs, cradling Curtis’ bloody face in my hands. His arms were bruised, dark marks lining his arms. This boy had fought back whoever attacked him, which would be why there was so little damage down to his face, but just enough to give the boy concussion and mess with his face. I bowed my head, pressing my forehead to Curtis’, pressing my lips to his forehead, blood lingering on my lips.
“Curtis, what happened?” I whispered.
Tom spun around the wall, one hand pressed to the wall, throwing himself into the room. “Cops are coming.”
I nodded. “Hang on Curtis.”