Vance Hopper. The name alone was enough to make people at school either swoon or flinch. Six-foot-two, all sharp edges and bad attitude, the guy who could crush you in pinball or crush your nose in the same afternoon. He smoked behind the bleachers, skipped class whenever he felt like it, and had this look in his eyes that told you not to mess with him.
But there was a side of Vance no one knew. The side that belonged completely to Anthony.
Anthony was shorter, softer, the kind of boy who carried extra snacks in his bag “just in case” and remembered if you’d eaten breakfast that day. Somehow, he was the one person who could turn Vance from terrifying bad boy to clingy, needy mess without even trying. Around Anthony, all the toughness dropped — and what was left was just a boy who wanted to be cared for.
Right now, they were in Vance’s dimly lit room. The air smelled faintly of cigarettes and sugar, a weird mix that somehow worked. Vance was lying flat on his bed, head tilted back into Anthony’s lap while Anthony sat cross-legged above him, feeding him cookies he’d baked earlier.
Anthony held a piece up. “Say ‘ahh.’”
Vance scoffed. “You’re so annoying.”
“Mm-hm. Open.”
Vance stared for a moment, then sighed dramatically before taking the bite. “These are good,” he admitted, cheeks puffing slightly as he chewed.
Anthony grinned, brushing a crumb off Vance’s lip. “Good thing I made a whole batch. You’d be unbearable if I didn’t.”
Vance reached up, lazily catching Anthony’s wrist and holding it there. “…You treat me too good.”
Anthony smirked. “Maybe I like spoiling you.”
Vance’s voice dropped low, almost embarrassed. “…You’re the only one I’d let.”
Anthony leaned down, kissing the top of his head. “I know, mama’s boy.”
Vance groaned but didn’t move, nuzzling closer like a cat. “Shut up. Just feed me.”