"I love you Mickey"

Part 1

Mickey's pov:

I walked into my run-down house, meeting my father's disapproving gaze. I glanced up at him, biting my lower lip as it seemed he knew about my confrontation with the boy next door. To clarify, I didn't do anything with him; I merely stood up to a bully who was unfairly labeling the boy as gay. My father was heavily homophobic, he despised any support for what he disagreed with, making me the unluckiest boy. If he discovered my own sexual orientation, being gay, he would pose a serious threat to me.

"I sighed, a sense of defeat washing over me. "You're supposed to beat that boy instead of defending him, Mickey!" he yelled, his knuckles turning white from gripping too tight. "I'm not supporting him at all; I just don't think you should support a bully either!" I screamed back, furrowing my eyebrows. "you support those faggots, I'd put bullets inside your damn skull ya hear me, Ruslanov?" he threatened. I walked past him, heading to my room. Filled with anger, I lashed out, hitting and punching everything in my room. Fucking cunt, I'd fucking shoot your damn head before you. I needed a drink desperately, but I had no cash on me. The kids stopped going to the park after I threatened to kick them to space for money, and unfortunately, I had to deal with the consequences of taking drastic measures against an innocent guy who reported me to the cops, I killed him. In my defense, it was necessary. Today, stealing seemed like the only option. I had been stealing since a young age, so it didn't bother me much.

That night...

I chose to target a parking lot near a restaurant, knowing where the affluent crowd parked and dined. Despite the cold, I wore a tank top beneath my brother's hoodie, watching my breath turn to icy smoke. When I spotted a sleek black Mercedes Benz, I couldn't resist. Jogging over, I started punching the glass, yielding $400 in cash, a high-end watch, and a wallet. I didn't bother counting; I knew its contents surpassed the value of my life. Opening the door, I sat in the driver's seat, lighting up a cigarette I found. Rich or poor, the taste of cigarettes remained the same. Inhaling the cancer stick, I blew smoke, watching it dissipate.

While engrossed in my cigarette, I heard a voice - not angry, but rather confused. I turned around promptly, finding myself face to face with a tall, handsome boy. Well shit, "The fuck you want, kid?". "This is my father's car?" he furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "Whose car?". "My dad's car," he forced a smile on his pretty face. I stood up, flicking the used cigarette away, walking past him. "You broke it, and you stole his cigarette?" his voice sounded angelic. "I did, kid. I did and so the fuck what? I'd beat the shit out of you if you tell your parents or the cops I'd break that pretty face of yours"

Klas's pov:

Needing air after my father incessantly talked about me marrying a girl to continue the family name, I excused myself to the toilet. To my surprise, I didn't expect to find a tattooed man busy digging into my father's car.

"I did, kid. I did and so the fuck what? I'd beat the shit out of you if you tell your parents or the cops I'd break that pretty face of yours" he spitted. Confused, I wasn't the one stealing someone else's car. He was a bit shorter but noticeably more fit-look at those muscles. However, it wasn't just his physique that caught my attention; it was his face. He was hot, with a face structured to perfection, sharp jawlines, and a pointy nose. I found myself staring until I realized he was inching closer to me. "Think of snitching on me? huh? want me to cut that tongue before I go?" he spoke. I shook my head. "I won't tell anyone, with one condition," I breathed out, noticing him eyeing my lips as I spoke. He raised his brow, gesturing for me to continue. "Your phone number, and maybe we can go out for coffees together?" I raised my head high, displaying confidence. I knew I was at the right place. I had nothing to lose, but he did. He chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "you think we're a couple of nerd teenagers or what? I don't do date and most importantly, I don't do boys. I like them with tits with long hair". That was all he said before walking away. I pouted as I watched him walked away.

Disheartened, I returned to the restaurant and took my seat across from my parents. "Son, I'm thinking of introducing you to a friend's daughter. I'm sure you two would be perfect together," my father continued his endless prattling. I simply nodded, looking down. A part of me felt let down after the guy who took my father's cigarette left. Though unfamiliar, there was a strange connection. I was drawn to him and wanted to learn more. I needed to see him again. Despite our brief conversation, I sensed a profound connection. Unfortunately, that seemed to be the end of it. I had no idea how to find or meet him.

"Have you finished, darling? We can go home if you'd like. You seem quite down," my mother cooed. I smiled at my mother, nodding as I stood up and walked over to her, her arm sliding around mine. We made our way to the parking lot while my father settled the bill.

I stood still as my mother was shocked seeing the car's condition, and when my father noticed, he was furious. It's not that we couldn't afford to fix it, but my father wouldn't let it go easily. Honestly, if I weren't so selfish, I would've told them about the guy. But no, I couldn't bring myself to spill the truth. I needed to see the man again, not behind bars; that wouldn't be romantic. I played innocent with my parents while my mind was consumed with thoughts of the mysterious man I had encountered.

After settling matters with the police, we returned home. I kissed my mum on her cheek before heading to my room. Feeling lazy, I stripped off and jumped on my bed, covering myself with my comfy blanket. I couldn't help but think about the man again-the way his voice sounded, the way his eyes lingered on me, the way his lips moved when he spoke. Oh dear! I could feel my erection building up. I sighed, sliding my hand down my pants, engulfing my cock with my hand stroking it gently. I moaned softly, thinking about the man as I tried to remember the movement of his lips. My hand went faster as my moan went louder. I moved my hips thrusting into my hand and I could feel my orgasm coming. I came all over my hand with a loud groan. I wiped myself with tissues and layed back down breathing heavy. I couldn't believe this.