Comic Boys

I yelled something, causing London to laugh, before hanging up on him. I rubbed my aching head that had thumped harshly on the wooden slab of my bunk bed, grabbing a pair of jeans off the end of my bed and a T-shirt off the backrest of my rolling desk chair, hastily pulling the clothing on as I glared at the Captain America (which was a limited edition one, might I add) clock ticking menacingly on the wall, taunting me. I was already late for work- and that meant spending less time with London.

I found myself smiling like a mad fool as I grabbed my backpack, shoving a few comics, my phone, iPod, jumper and the half-eaten roll of gum that rested on my desk into the deteriorating sack. I jimmied my feet into my pair of red Vans, sliding my red Ray-Bans onto the top of my head after mussing my bed-head in the small mirror stuck to the wall of the bedroom in my small apartment. I cupped my hand around my mouth and breathed out, sniffing in the putrid breath, cringing.

"Mints... mints... Oh, Jesus," I gasped, as I saw Elliot- my pre-pubescent and albino cat- clawing at one of my shirts that had been thrown on the floor in my haste, shredding the defenceless fabric with his rippers. "Elliot! Stop clawing at the shirt!" He stopped his actions for a brief moment as he regarded me, meowing before padding closer to me, sniffing me once before snarling cat-speech and racing out of my room. I frowned, raising an arm as I sniffed myself, almost gagging. I dropped my bag, racing to the bathroom where I basically raided the cabinet under the sink, pulling out my super nice deodorant spray, spraying myself as I rinsed my mouth with minty mouthwash, spitting, and running back to my room as I grabbed my bag. I cursed at the clock which was smiling down at me as I stuck my arms through the tattered holes of my bag before kissing the stretching Elliot, barging out of my apartment.

It took my a few minutes of frantic running before I got to Saviour Comics, and I was winded when I got to the door, puffing and heaving like I had just run a marathon. I smiled though, once I saw the adorable, black -haired boy through the window. My smile dropped though, when something that the customer said made him giggle and blush, and as the guy turned I narrowed my eyes at him for a brief moment.

He was good looking, but not as good-looking as my little London. He looked at me once as he passed me at the door, but didn't smile or give me any form of greeting since he just ignored me and walked down the road, turning a corner as I wiped the frown off my face, a true smile gracing my lips as London smiled at me. I walked in, dumping my stuff behind the counter as I took in his gorgeous appearance, my heart skipping a beat as he pushed up his glasses in that way that I just loved.

Ever since I met him, I think I have liked him. Loved him even.

But oh, if only he knew.



It was so worth it, letting London win. The moment he grabbed the last comic his face had lit up like a Christmas Tree, the smile on his face infectious as he tagged it slowly, sticking out his pink tongue as he slapped it onto his pile, his other hand reaching for the MW3 as he gazed at it with un-hushed happiness. If he was happy, I was happy, even if it cost me a good amount of money.

"Okay, you win," I said, feigning disappointment, making him smirk a little. "But next time, London. Just you wait!" He rolled his eyes, slipping the game into his bag as he lifted up a small stack of comics to place on the shelves.

"You know I always win," he said, frowning. "Sometimes I think you let me win, though."

At that comment I couldn't help but chuckle at how he hit the nail right on the head. I shook my head despite that, making a "pssssht!" noise with my mouth, and he grinned as I grabbed my pile, the heavy books weighing down on my arms. I looked down at them, and they were manga, the girl on the cover dressed in something that resembled a skirt, her boobs boggling out of her chest like fucking melons. I had nothing against anime and manga, but the girls had really, really impressive knockers. I preferred Wonder Woman's rack though. But they were nothing on London, who had the cutest little ass known to man.

"Hey, London- I'm going to vacuum today. You can do the maths side of things, you know I can't add for shit," I said, and he nodded, walking around the counter and resuming his position on his stool, pulling out a massive folder, popping the lid off a thing black pen with his teeth before furrowing his brow as he punched things into the sticky-taped calculator. I could watch him for hours and hours on end- every tiny little thing he did I found so amazing and captivating. I was whipped for him, and the saddest part was that he had no idea about my feelings. I didn't want to tell him, though. He would freak out and probably run away from me. Then what? I would never see him again, and that would suck major balls. I had always hated my jobs, quitting after working a few shifts, and I was going to quit this job, but something had made me stick with it. Someone had made me come to love it. It was all London.

When I had seen London with that guy- Easton, I had read on his membership slip- I had felt something I had never really felt before. I was jealous. I had always thought I was going to be the only one for him, but I had never really thought that there would be other people to catch his eye.

Maybe I had to make my move, before someone else did.