Sweaters & Cigarettes

SWEATERS & CIGARETTES

Copyright
© 2014 by Mika Fox

All
Rights Reserved.

Cover
design/Interior design: Mika Fox

This
book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or

used
in any manner whatsoever without the express written

permission
of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This
book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and

incidents
are either products of the author's imagination or

are
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living

or
dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

WWW.MIKA-FOX.COM

A massive thank you to
all my readers

for all their love and
support.

I couldn't have done
this without you.

Chapter 1

Superman

Theo isn’t quite sure why he keeps watching Max.

He’s nothing special, nothing out of the
ordinary. That is, if you disregard the black clothes, the piercings, the Dr. Martens
and the black eyeliner, all of which goes perfectly with that dark, messy hair
and those intense, blue eyes. No, he’s nothing special. Really.

Compared to Theo, though, he is. At least,
Theo thinks so. Because Theo really
is
nothing special, with his plain
jeans and light brown hair, boring shirts and complete lack of piercings.
Compared to Max, compared to anyone, he just feels so incredibly dull. And it
doesn’t help that he’s nerdy to the point of embarrassing, and can’t show it
off because his friends would never stop mocking him for it; as someone who
belongs to a group that's at least reasonably popular, he can't really afford
to deviate too much from the norm.

And if nothing else, Max is really smart.
Like, genius-level smart, at least from what Theo can tell, from the classes
they have together, and from what he's heard.

He doesn’t like Max. He hates him. He and
his friends hate him, and they hate the goth crowd that Max hangs out with.

Theo hates those black clothes that suit
him so perfectly. He hates that messy, black hair that looks just long enough
to pull fingers through and grab onto, and he hates that black eyeliner and
that stupid piercing, that dark silver ring that circles Max's bottom lip,
right in the center. He hates those dark blue eyes and that surprisingly cocky
smirk that makes him look like an angel who’s been kicked out of heaven.

Yeah, he hates Max. He really does. And
he’s crushing on him so hard that it’s not even funny.

There's nothing special about today. It's
just a day like any other, with boring classes and obnoxious students, all
there to make the high school experience as genuine as possible, it seems, and
it's on this completely ordinary day, that Theo makes his way outside after
lunch, rounding the corner of the nearest building.

There's no real reason for it, it's just a
short cut to his next class, and no one ever goes through here, which is kind
of nice; it’s behind one of the school buildings, right at the edge, surrounded
by bushes and trees. It's also out of eyeshot from the rest of the schoolyard,
and it's generally abandoned, which is why Theo actually stops dead in
surprise, when he actually sees someone there. And when he realizes who it is,
it makes it even worse.

As Theo rounds the corner, Max barely looks
up. Instead, he just glances at Theo, eyeing him up and down quickly, before
looking straight ahead again. He’s leaning against the brick wall, one hand in
the pocket of his black jeans, the other holding a cigarette between his
fingers. He pulls on it, and Theo fidgets a bit.

Oh, shit.

But no, he can do this. It’s no big deal.
No big deal, at all.

He slowly starts making his way past Max,
but doesn’t even make it there, before a cloud of smoke hits him practically in
the face, and he stops dead. He blinks away the stinging smoke, before turning
to Max, who just looks at him, a small smile shaping his lips.

“Sorry,” he says, not meaning it in the
slightest, and Theo turns to him. He tries to suppress the way that unusually
low and rough voice of Max's makes him shiver, and he absently grits his teeth
a little.

Theo is standing only a couple of feet
away from Max, almost next to him, and those blue eyes are locked on his green
ones, as Max raises his cigarette to his mouth. Theo deliberately looks away,
but just as he moves to leave again, Max actually blows out smoke at him
again
,
practically in his face, despite the distance between them. And Theo suddenly
feels annoyed, nervousness temporarily forgotten.

”The hell you think you are, man?” Theo says,
but Max just smirks at him, looking oddly mischievous. Along with his dark,
messy hair and black-lined, fierce eyes, it makes him look weirdly
intimidating.

Max lowers his chin a bit, intensifying
his dark blue gaze.

“I’m Batman,” he says, in a voice that
somehow sounds even deeper and more gravelly than normal, and Theo
involuntarily shivers.
Damn
.

He doesn’t show it, though. Instead, he
just scoffs and looks away, intending to leave. And Max quirks a tiny smile and
looks away, as well.

“Then again,” he murmurs, to Theo’s
surprise, but mostly to himself. “Superman would kick his ass.”

Theo frowns then and turns back to Max,
who takes a long, slow drag on his cigarette. And Theo swallows hard. It’s
unfair how hot Max looks when he does that. It’s just
unfair
, on so many
levels.

“Whose?” Theo says, involuntarily starting
up a conversation, going against every instinct saying that he should leave,
because this guy is a douche, crush or no crush. And Theo doesn’t even want to
admit said crush, to begin with. “Batman’s?”

Max cocks his head, now slowly blowing out
smoke through just slightly parted lips.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Theo murmurs,
and now it’s Max's turn to frown.

“What?” he says, and Theo feels
uncharacteristically bold.

“Superman has powers, sure,” he says. “But
without them, Batman would kick
his
ass.”

Max raises a pierced eyebrow, turning to
look at Theo.

“Oh, really?” he says. “How do you
figure?”

“It’s just facts,” Theo says, sounding
cockier than he’s used to. And Max straightens a bit then, his brow furrowing
into a frown again.

“Superman can fly,” he says, as though
this is obvious and anyone contradicting it is an idiot. “And he can shoot
lasers with his eyes.”

Theo shrugs.

“So?” he says. “Batman doesn’t need all
that. And he still kicks ass.”

Max seems to deliberate for a moment,
still frowning.

“So, you’re telling me,” he says, actually
getting out of his slouch, his back no longer leaning against the wall, hand
now out of his pocket, “that some brooding billionaire is better than
Superman?”

“Superman is an alien,” Theo says,
mirroring Max's frown. “Unfair advantage.”

“Unfair―” Max actually cuts himself
off, glancing away and taking a breath, as though to calm himself down. Then he
looks back at Theo. “He’s all alone, basically a god. And he uses his powers
for good, when he could just as easily take over the world.”

“Batman’s all alone,” Theo retorts,
actually starting to get a bit worked up. “And he could just as easily sit back
and ignore everything that’s going on in Gotham, but he doesn’t. He could just
spend his money, have fun, and
not
dedicate his life to fighting crime.”

“Superman isn’t even appreciated for it,”
Max says. He’s as worked up as Theo now, defending his superhero. Neither of
them seems to think about how unreasonably pissed off they’re both getting over
this, especially considering that they’ve never even spoken before. “People
just bitch about him wrecking stuff.”

“Batman gets crap all the time,” Theo
exclaims, throwing up his hands. He and Max are facing each other now, rather
than standing almost next to each other. “They call him a menace.”

“You can’t seriously tell me that Batman
is better,” Max says, frowning incredulously, but Theo just cocks his head.

“At least he’s got a decent disguise,” he
says. “I mean, Clark Kent? Really? He doesn’t even wear a mask, that’s just
retarded.”

“Oh, and Bruce Wayne is such a genius?”
Now Max throws his hands up, cigarette still lit, still secured between his
fingers.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Theo feels
unusually secure now, mouthing off with this guy like this. They’ve never even
spoken before, and he’s still on some level somewhat embarrassed about just how
hard he’s crushing on Max, but he’s too wrapped up in their argument to think
about it. Instead, he feels oddly riled up. But in a very good way.

Max takes a deep breath and steps closer
to Theo, before raising his hand and pointing at him, cigarette held between
his index- and middle finger.

“You don’t know what you’re talking
about,” he says, lowering his voice slightly.

“I think you’re confusing me with you,”
Theo retorts, lowering his voice to the same level. He can see Max's jaw
working, those blue eyes fixed on his.

“If you call Superman retarded again,” he
says, raising his eyebrows, “I swear to god.”

“Well, he is retarded,” Theo says, cocking
his head. “At least his so-called secret identity is.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

The next second passes in a blur. All Theo
is aware of is Max flicking his cigarette away on the asphalt, before stepping
closer and gripping Theo’s sweater with his hand, pulling him to him. And then,
suddenly, he’s kissing him. Just like that.

Theo widens his eyes in shock, but to his
own surprise, he doesn’t react or push Max away. Sure, he’s got a massive crush
on this guy, but still. They’re at school, in the middle of the day, and anyone
could see them. And if nothing else, Theo has tried to convince himself that he
hates Max, mostly because he has figured that Max hates him.

But as he feels those lips against his
own, that stupid piercing hard against them, the metal warmed from Max's mouth,
he can’t really think at all.

Max seems honestly surprised when Theo
kisses him back, tensing up a bit, but then moves his hand from its grip on Theo’s
sweater and up to his face, cupping it. Theo, meanwhile, closes his eyes and
half-hesitantly puts his hands on Max's waist. He’s wearing only a black,
long-sleeved t-shirt, and Theo can feel the outline of his stomach and muscles
and hip bones through the thin, warm fabric. Max groans slightly then, and
pushes his tongue into Theo’s mouth; his tongue is pierced, too, Theo notices
with some surprise.

Max claims his mouth, pushing his body
against Theo’s with such surprising force that it makes Theo actually stagger a
bit, and Theo lets out a soft moan of surprised pleasure. Max tastes like
cigarettes, but it doesn’t matter. In fact, Theo realizes he finds it kind of
hot.

Theo isn’t entirely sure how long they
keep at it, but when Max slowly pulls away, he feels oddly dizzy and
disoriented. Max's hand has moved back a bit from his face, his fingers now
digging into Theo’s short, light brown hair, the other hand casually slipped
into the back pocket of his jeans. And Theo finds himself breathing heavily, while
Max lets out a slow, deep breath.

“Shit,” he says, his voice barely even a
whisper. Theo opens his eyes. Their lips are just an inch away from touching,
and he can see that Max's eyes are closed. “Fuck.”

Theo swallows hard.

“What?” he says, his voice low and
surprisingly hoarse, and Max swallows, too.

“That was awesome,” he says, still barely
whispering, and Theo feels a shiver run down his spine. Max opens his eyes
then, and Theo finds himself staring into that dark, brilliant blue, framed by
pitch black, just slightly smoky, eyeliner.

“I was just gonna make you shut up,” Max
says. “Just for a second. But
damn
.”

Theo feels a bit self-conscious then,
mixed with the weirdest sense of pride.

“Right,” he says, in lack of anything
else, and he watches Max's eyes wander across his face, his eyes, his mouth.
And Max licks his lips.

“What was your name again?” he says.

“Theo,” Theo replies, and Max nods slowly.

“Theo,” he repeats. “I’m Max.”

“I know.” Theo grits his teeth slightly at
the stupid reply, but Max doesn’t seem to notice or care. “Hi.”

Max quirks a smile and looks back up into
Theo’s eyes.

“Hey,” he says. That mischievous smirk is
back, but unlike before, Theo finds it incredibly hot, as well as intimidating.

Max straightens a bit, putting some more distance
between the two of them, and Theo hesitantly pulls his hands away from Max's
waist, as Max's hands leave his body. Then Max eyes him up and down, and Theo
clears his throat a bit.

“Right,” he says unnecessarily. “Well,
I’ve got class, so…”

Max looks back up at him and nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, me too.”

He seems to hesitate for a bit.

“We should do this again, sometime,” he
says, and Theo’s throat constricts, from some kind of mix between nervousness
and surreal excitement.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Sometime.”

Max nods slowly, and Theo forces himself
to look away from those intense, blue eyes.

Only a few seconds of silence pass,
though, before it’s broken again.

“How about right now?” Max says, and Theo
looks up at him. He doesn’t even hesitate.

“Sounds good to me,” he says, moving
closer and grabbing Max's shirt, this time, pulling him to him with surprising
roughness. He glimpses that cheeky, mischievous smirk, before he kisses him,
and Max's tongue and mouth and hands make him forget all about Batman and
Superman and about whoever would win in a fight.