Boys Will Be Boys (v.2)

chapter three - nothing

chapter three — nothing

<Lukas' POV>

MARCO LOOKED LIKE A DEMON. He was wearing that creepy smile I knew too well, face flushed and eyes dilated from the combination of weed and whiskey. DJ was right behind him, sober as always, arms outstretched ready for any shit Marco stirred up. Marco was too good at that— pissing people off. I wasn't sure anybody trusted him with anything, excluding DJ, but for some strange reason, everyone told him everything. Marco knew more about what happened in other people's lives than the CIA, and that shit was mad scary.

"What's up, Lukas? Why're you sober, man?" Marco laughed loudly, the small crowd in the kitchen parting like the Red Sea for a boozy Moses.

"Don't need alcohol to have fun, crackhead," I answered, eyebrow raised.

"Bullshit," Marco slurred but relenting with a smile. He brushed past me, pulling me down so he could whisper in my ear.

"You wanna know where Kieran is? I bet you do."

I flushed, shoving him back and away from me. Marco grinned stupidly, offering me a sly wink. I looked at DJ for help and he nodded at me from over the drunken idiot's shoulder. He sighed, hand reaching out to pull Marco back by his shoulder. Marco tensed, then relaxed when he saw DJ behind him.

"DJ? Man, when did you get here?" Marco grinned, thoroughly wasted but ecstatic at seeing his best friend behind him. It was almost as if DJ hadn't been behind him the whole night.

"Been here," DJ answered quietly, his deep voice still managing to be heard even as a random girl screamed from the other room.

"Let's go find Roger," DJ steered Marco out of the kitchen, shooting me a look. I smiled weakly at him, chuckling when Marco began talking animatedly, eyes determinedly focusing on DJ and not watching where he was going.

"Kieran's by the stairs, loverboy" Marco crooned, leaning heavily against DJ. DJ just tightened his grip on Marco's shoulder, and they disappeared past the door frame.

Marco loved to give me shit about being gay. He also liked to joke around that I had a Kardashian-ass sized crush on Kieran, but we were just friends and my crush on him was a thing of the past. Nothing more. Besides, Kieran would have an aneurysm if I ever came out as gay. He wasn't the most flexible or understanding of people, so I was pretty adamant about staying in the closet. Besides, my closet was pretty damn comfortable.

"Hey man, looking for Mogan?"

I was startled back into reality by none other than Roger Lee himself. He wasn't big on parties (his parents never let him out past 10 o'clock), so him even being here was still taking some getting used to. My eyes flit to the red solo cup in his hand, lips forming a half-smile when I saw little Sharpie drawings all over it.

That's one way to mark your cup.

"Fuck off, Lee."

Roger just laughed, nudging me with his shoulder good-naturedly. His drink, some weird combination of beer and water from the looks of it, sloshed around a little, threatening to fall out. Roger was the only one I knew who could drink diluted alcohol willingly.

"Sorry, sorry. You just look lost whenever he's not around"

He smiled coyly, bringing the cup up to his mouth to hide his smirk. I rolled my eyes, unable to find a decent enough rebuttal.

"There's nothing going on between me and Kieran, Roger"

"Kieran and I, " Roger breezily corrected me, smirk still playing on his lips. I eyed the shallow dimple on the right side of his face venomously.