Someone was eating my popcorn. A stranger. Some dude I didn't know was chomping away at my buttered, cheese-covered corn.

War has been declared. I accept!

The hand, a thief's hand, thin, slender, artfully crafted and obviously very quick and stealthy, moved away from the half-empty carton and floated in closer to my drink… closer…

Save the Cherry Coke!!! Get it away from him!

Commence the attack. Now.

I gave him a warning growl, which seemed to startle him under that pesky hood of his, before I initiated a full-body lunge at him, toppling him out of his seat and tackling him to the floor.

No one noticed us. The row was empty.

The whole theatre was almost empty, except us and two more girls up front.

I grabbed onto the front of his hoodie viciously, snarling at him in a decidedly ferocious manner, "What do you think you're doing, punk!?"

The hood fell off under my rib-rattling shakes and his once-was mysterious face appeared.

Good god.

He was beautiful. So… goddamn s-

Focus! Dammit! You were supposed to kill him! He stole your popcorn, remember?

Fuck! Where the hell is he now?

Shit! That mother-fucking kid escaped!

He is so going to pay…

The two girls up front glanced back warily at the weird dude stomping away from the theatre, popcorn and drink forgotten.


"You assholes!" I screamed at them the moment I caught my breath. "It was the THIRD THEATRE not the SECOND ONE!!!"

They just snickered, the stupid jerks.

So goddamned inconsiderate. I paid for the popcorn and drinks, and what do I get?

I get ditched at the concession stand and I had to call them to find out where they were headed with my popcorn.

"We're in front of the third theatre to the left when you come up the escalators. You can't miss it."

Actually, I did. I turned left and almost walked into a wall. Some old lady ushered her kids away from me, aka. 'that crazy punk'. What is it with adults and the word 'punk'?

Even that dude in the wrong theatre called me a punk. I do not look like one.

Honestly, I look like a gay boy, or maybe a metrosexual. That's because I am one. Can't face the facts? Then go fuck yourself.

However, as defensive, yet defiant as I may seem, I'm actually a chicken-winged coward. Remember my oh-so-lovely friends? I wouldn't call them friends, but then again, they're the only people who wouldn't diss me off at first sight

What? People just don't like my silver pants, okay?

"C'mon Liam, we're gonna go to the arcade. Do you wanna get left behind or what?" John, Joe or something called me, interrupting my thoughts.

I raised my head up only to see the group disappear around a corner.

Crap! Why the hell couldn't they just wait for a few freaking seconds?

Tripping slightly over the hems of my pants in my haste to chase after the group, I rounded the corner, over to discover two things:

One, they were gone. Just like that, the stupid assholes.

Two, the dude in the theatre was here. Well… not exactly here. It was more of a oh-my-fucking-shit-he's-on-top-of-me.

Ahh! What the hell!?

He's groping me!!!??? (Eeew)

Help! Rape! Save me! Save meeee! Waaahhhh! NOOOOOOO!!!!



"Kid," He growled threateningly, still straddling on top of me, "You're in here, a goddamned department store, dressed up so fucking pretty. But you've only got 4 shitty bucks in your fucking wallet!?" He practically screamed out the last part, shaking my wallet menacingly in front of my bewildered face.

"Hey kid! Are you fucking listening to me or what!?" His volume lowered slightly, probably because he didn't want to attract unneeded attention. Too late.

"Kid? Kid!?"

Shut up.

Can't you see I'm busy staring?

And goddamned mother fucking (beep beep beep beep beep) was he HANDSOME.

No words could describe the absolutely gorgeous piece of man flesh pressing my hips down upon the icy tile beneath my back.

Just so… hot…

Burn me up baby!

"Guess you'll have to do then…" He sighed out loud, dramatically, bringing me back to the world of me and reality. We don't really like each other, so I don't like staying in here for long.

What? Do what?

Why is he pulling me up from the floor and dragging me towards the lifts?

Oh shit?


The first minute I laid eyes on him, or to be more exact, his hand, I had no idea that in that same night, I was going to get the best and wildest night of sex ever from the same kid.

He was simply… mind-blowing. Same thing goes to the fornication. So goddamned amazing. Sorta like 4th of July with the fireworks guy on crack. Sorta, but not quite.

And I gotta tell you… that kid blows like none other. Not only did he blow my brains out of my dick, I think all my kidneys and intestines did too. If he ever, ever becomes my boyfriend, I'm having that mouth and throat insured. And I swear, they will exceed J.Lo's butt cheeks.

Uhm… huh?


"Are you okay? I thought I heard cackling…" The luscious babe in my arms murmurs demurely against my neck where he was cuddled against.

"That was me. Don't worry, I tend to go bananas when I over-sleep or more importantly, over-sex." A smirk was growing at the corners of my lips.

He choked for quite a long time on that one. Hehehe…

"So…" I mutter into his pretty blonde curls, "What's your name?"

"Lyon. Lyon Hannings." A finger trailed up my chest and not-so-innocently brushed across my nipple.

Ooohhh… That felt good.


"Nathan Reminton. Nice to meet you." I drawled out in a sarcastically formal tone.

"Nice to meet you too. And thanks for the night." He yawned cutely into my ear. Purposefully too… the little vixen.

"You're welcome."

A/N: No flames…