🏆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.
For a moment, Lee lingers, stock-still on the porch, torn between slamming the door and asking a million questions. (He ends up choosing Option Three: keeping quiet and staring like an idiot.)
"Fuck," Cory bites out, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. "Sorry. Wrong house." The sclera of his brown eyes is bright red, and for a moment, Lee wonders if he's high. Then Cory's damp hand balls into a fist at his side, a tear rolls down his cheek, and Lee realises---Oh. Shit. Not high. Just crying.
And then, Oh, shit. I'm not good with crying.
"H-hey, Cory!" Lee manages to get out. He snatches Socks up from the ground to stop her from flying at Cory with the intention to kill. (She'll probably end up licking Cory's hand and whining into his jeans, but Lee can't take any chances.) "What are you doing here?" Because there's no reason for Cory Perez to be on his doorstep, absolutely drenched in rain and tears, at nearly nine p.m. Unless it's to duke it out over Jon, in which case, Lee mentally reminds himself to invite Cory in to chat about it over a nice cup of tea. (Or wine. Lee's old enough to raid his father's secret stash, after all.)
He wishes Jack were here. Remembers that Jack's even worse at dealing with emotions than he is. Takes the wish back immediately.
"Mierda. Of course you're rich as well." Cory turns away angrily, swiping rain from his long lashes. "I'm such a fucking coño to think---"
"I am not trying to steal your boyfriend!" The words come out as a yell as Lee rushes forward, clapping one hand over Cory's soaked shoulder and spinning him around so he's looking him straight in the eye. (Lee notes how Cory's nearly three inches shorter than him with more than a little satisfaction. Even though it's not really the time for height comparisons now.) "I'm not into Jon that way, okay? I'm in love with the stupid idiot fucker of a prefect called Jack Sang, so you don't need to worry about me trying to steal your boyfriend! Okay? Now can you shut the fuck up, calm the fuck down, and tell me what the fuck is going on?"
("Swearing is excellent for getting shit down," Yumeko always claims. Lee's inclined to agree.)
All the fight seems to go out of Cory, his shoulders slumping deflatedly. Rain stings Lee's face, and he steps back into the safety of his shaded porch---more for Socks' sake than his own, really. (He should really put her down. It's hard to hold a full-grown dog with one hand and a rather small, very volatile guy's shoulder with the other.)
Cory glances up at Lee through soaked lashes, gaze lined with suspicion. "You're not...into Jon?"
"Pinky promise. Can't break that." And because Lee's mouth is too big for his own good, he blabbers on, "I mean, he's cute and all, but I don't have any interest in taken guys. I'm not a homewrecker and---" Once he notices the look on Cory's face, he lets go of his shoulder and gulps nervously. "---and I'm going to stop talking now."
For a moment, Cory just stares, rain lashing his bangs to his face. Lee stares back, a little unsure of what to do, flinching against the droplets flicking against his cheeks. In his arms, Socks lets out a low growl. He briefly wonders if he'll have to call for backup. (Not that there's anyone to call: Yumeko's terrible with situations like this, and although he supposes Jon would be great at handling this kind of stuff, he can't text him for...obvious reasons.)
