🏆Featured on TeenFiction | Head Over Heels
To Leroy 'Lee' Hiew, home's never felt like home. He has a huge mansion, a big car, and more money than he could ever spend. And yet, the idea of home always seems to elude him.
Armed with his dog, Socks...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Can we go to McDonalds?"
"What the fuck---no. You're bleeding, dumbass."
"Precisely," Lee declares, pouting until his cracked lips hurt. "A cheeseburger will stop the bleeding. I'll drive."
"You are not driving," Jack insists. In the sharp, finely-cut gleam of the afternoon sun, his hair glitters like honey. He's handsome, irritatingly so, all-American good looks and a strong, boyish face that never fails to drive Lee crazy, the Western streak in his blood shining through his strapping build and carefully-carved jaw. "You're going to get that damn Camaro of yours into an accident."
"Even better. I'm already half-dead, anyway. Must as well let the road speed up the process." Lee grins, two scarlet-stained fingers reaching to brush his bangs away from his forehead. Jack slaps his hand away before he can touch his hair, shoving a small fistful of tissues into his damp palm.
"You're not driving, you twit. Wipe your hands so you don't look like you just left a crime scene. I'll take you home."
"Want to use my car? It needs to get home too, anyway."
"Fuck no. I can't drive that shit. It's the bike or you're staying here until tomorrow."
"Would you stay with me?" Lee asks, eyes widening hopefully.
Jack snorts. "You wish. Get off the bike, Lee. We've got to figure out how to fit both of us on it."
Lee finishes wiping the blood off---as much as he can manage, at least---and stands up. "I could grab on to the back and you could drive fast enough for me to fly behind you."
"Do you want to die?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
"Probably not, knowing you." Jack swings one leg over his bike and plops himself down on the seat. "Get behind me, dumbass. If you're coherent enough to be stupid, you should be strong enough to get onto a bike by yourself. Make sure you've gotten all the blood off your hands. I don't want my uniform to get stained."
"What?"
"What do you mean by what? Get on the bike and hold my fucking waist so you won't fall off, stupid."
"Oh." And then, "Oh. Fuck. I'm a dumbass."
"Yes, you are."
"Are you serious? This is rapidly turning out to be the best day of my life," Lee proclaims. "I get to beat people up, hold your waist and go to McDonalds? Someone pinch me. Actually, don't. I don't want to wake up from this dream. Ever."
As expected, Jack reaches back and pinches his arm, hard. Lee bites back a curse and settles for shooting a dirty look Jack's way, which Jack promptly ignores. "We're not going to McDonalds. Get on the bike, loser."
