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Fourth Of July

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All he wanted was a fucking Slurpee, but no, he can't even have a fucking delicious drink without bumping into some fucking jock on the god damn football team. Of fucking course Pete fucking Wentz worked here. Mikey can't even get a fucking drink without being harassed, it was the fucking summer! Aren't bullies supposed to take a fucking break during the summer?

Okay, Mikey can do this. He's just getting a beverage, nothing to possibly bully about that. The teenager grabbed a large cup and pulled down on the lever to fill it with cherry flavored ice, everything was going fine, everything was normal. Mikey filled it to the top of the lid, he's spending almost four dollars on this, it's going to be his money worth. He grabbed a straw and walked to the register. The register where there was only a sweaty Pete Wentz available, the other employee had fucking left Mikey Way inside an empty store with the captain of the football team. That fucker is going to be at fault when Mikey ends up dead on the counter. Hesitantly he placed the Slurpee on the counter, getting the attention of the very fucking muscular Pete, what the fuck.

"Hey, Michael, right?" Pete motherfucking Wentz said to Mikey.

Mikey was in shock, Pete Wentz knew his name, "Mikey. Why do you know my name?"

The expression on Mikey's face was blank, almost teasing, but all his muscles were preparing to run the fuck away with or without his cherry slurpee. Pete does looked fucking great in only a sweaty tank top and loose basketball shorts, but that doesn't mean Mikey is going to flirt. Fuck, he was flirting with Pete Wentz. He is definitely going to leave with a few misplaced organs and bones. But that raised the question of why the fuck Mikey is flirting with someone who will literally bash Mikey's face in if he figures out what is happening.

"Because, Mikey, I know everyone. I'll pay for your slushie if you get my piece of shit coworker to stop smoking and come do his job, think you can seduce him?" Pete was actually fucking proposing this, what the actual fuck? It is a free Slurpee though.

"Yeah," Mikey replied, monotone with a blank expression as always.

Michael Way could flirt, and he could flirt well. Grabbing his Slurpee and walking outside next to Pete's 'piece of shit coworker',  he recognized him as Brendon Urie from his history class. Brendon was fucking hot, he was wearing some tight as fuck jeans and his hair was tousled at just the right amount, and he was, indeed, smoking. Just not a cigarette,  Mikey liked weed, he could work with weed.

"Yo, Brendon mind if I take a hit?" Mikey asked, starting to remove the paper from his straw.

Brendon looked at him in wonder before smiling, handing over the rolled weed and digging a new one out of his pocket. Alright, free weed. This deal keeps getting better and better. Mikey inhaled the joint, letting it fill his lungs and then blowing it at Brendon and giggling. Anyone who smokes knows what that mean, hell, everyone knows what that means. Brendon obviously understood because his eyes turned, he was looking at Mikey hungrily. Mikey took a sip of his Slurpee,  keeping eye contact with Brendon the entire three seconds. Urie was squirming, Mikey was still staring. His lips left the straw, there was an unplanned but perfectly convenient strand of saliva connecting to his lips. Setting down the Slurpee on the ground behind him, Mikey stepped closer to Brendon, the teen had already put the pre-rolled joint in his mouth and the lighter was in his hand. Mikey smiled at Brendon and took the lighter from him, lighting the boy's joint and fuck if Mikey didn't know what the fuck he was doing. He was getting free weed for fucking life. Brendon abruptly took the drug stick from his pretty lips and kissed Mikey. Fuck yes. Those pretty lips can fucking kiss and Mikey loved being kissed almost as much as he loved free Slurpees. Seducing done, it was time for free Slurpees. 

"Hey, Brendon. Shouldn't you be getting back to work?" Mikey asked, feigning concern and taking a hit of the joint he surprisingly still had.

"Fuck, yeah I do." Brendon ran off, shoving the joint that Mikey had lit earlier into the Junior's hand. More fucking free weed.

Mikey turned to walk away too, but in the process spilled his free fucking Slurpee. God fucking damn it. Mikey breathed in the last of the first joint and flicked the butt on the ground where his fucking slushie was. Apparently Pete Wentz wasn't doing his job because the football player was outside and trying to steal Mikey's new weed.

"Come on, Mikes. I know you have like a whole stash of green of your own. Can i please just have this little joint?" Wentz whined, god he was annoying and Mikey was kind of turned on by it, it was taking all his willpower to try and get his semi-hard to be flaccid again.

"If I get another free Slurpee," Mikey answered, he was smiling. A real, genuine smile, he only does that around his brother. Fuck.

"Oh yeah, because you spilled your free slushie while Brendon's tongue was down your throat?" Pete was teasing him, not in a mean way though. It was fucking weird.

"Sounds like you might want your tongue down my throat too, are you jealous?" The younger taunted, taking a hit and handing it to Pete Wentz.

Pete put the joint to his lips, his lips were fucking beautiful, and he was fucking hot, "What if I was, huh?"

Michael was frozen, what the fuck does he say to that? In the end he chose to say "Are you?" Fuck. That was flirting, that is flirting. They were flirting.

"Yeah, a little bit," Pete mumbled before grabbing Mikey's face and kissing the living fuck out of him. God, Mikey wanted to do everything to this guy. To Pete Wentz. Pete fucking Wentz is fucking kissing him.

Mikey asked Pete if he wanted to hang out by the river after he got off. Got off work. He was suprised by the answer yes, not suprised by the demand to bring weed and he would bring the liquor.

Lips. Liquor. Weed.