Skip

Disclaimer:

This is a work of (slash) fiction depicting same-sex love between two teenages dudes, as well as violence and drug references. Yaknow the drill.

Fan mail to webtrash@unpunk.com

"Skip"

-2-

We were both relaxed and solemn. Our money depleted, this hit was what we needed to get on our feet till winter was over and the drug market warmed up again. I leaned against the mirror, wiping water out of my eyes and ears as Ben rubbed toothpaste into his teeth with his fingers. I was a lot more wired than usual, jumping at every truck which ambled down Wellington Street.

Ben spat a white frothy goo into the dirty steel sink and washed his mouth out. Straightening up, he gave me his trademark grin and playfully said "...Showtime!..."

It was kind of a tradition for us. One of us would say that before a hit. Kind of like a good luck thing.

We'd done our homework for this job. Radio Rentals had recently hired a new, wet-behind-the-ears sales assistant for the showroom. The manager went down the road to the bank twice a week at 10am. This guy would be alone in the store. I'd get the kids attention, and Ben would go back into the office and light up a stack of paper or anything flammable, then sneak back out. Ten seconds later, the fire alarm. Kid shits himself and runs into the office, we grab what we can from the showroom and leg it.

We walked past once or twice, seeing what we could carry in a hurry, and waiting for the manager to toddle off down to National. Since it was a morning transaction, there was no point just grabbing his banking bag. A few muttered words between ben and I and it was decided: Sony camcorders.

About ten past, "Eric" waddled importantly past us down the mall, so I wandered in. The kid, as predicted, practically leapt from behind the counter to service me.

"May I help you, sir?"

You sure fucking can, I thought.

"Yeah, I'd like to rent a VCR, but I can't decide between these two. Can you help me out here?"

I motioned towards the VCRs on display. It was by no small conincidence they were on the wall facing the camcorders. His back was turned and his nose in a file as hell searched for specifications. He didn't notice when Ben slipped between the doorway and entrance sensor. He stalked into the office, easily avoiding the look of the salesperson.

"And this one is five dollars less a week. Is that all you wanted to know? I can do your rent agreement up right now."

"hang on--"

I needed time, damnit.

"-- I have a recent TV, and I was wondered whether that VCR down there has a digital video input."

We both knew this involved him crouching down and unplugging the VCR. he had just bent down when I saw Ben jog silently out from the store, and moments later, a shrill alarm began to sound from the bowels of the shop.

You should've seen the kid. Like someone had jammed a cattleprod up his ass. He ran into the back room. With precious little time, I yanked a couple of the Sony videocameras from the shelf and tossed them over the security sensor to Ben.

"Hey!"

Hearing the plainitive cry from behind me, I bolted out into the mall and we were off. Heavy, scuffed boots pounding on the concrete as we tore across the intersection and through Central Park. I saw in the reflection of the cafe window that a security guard was jogging after us, yelling into his radio. We detoured through the Cloisters arcade, down the Terrance, and down Howard, sprinting, our lungs nearly exploding from stress.

I looked back. We had lost the security guard. Ben dropped the expensive equipment into our rucksacks, then we ducked into the Church for a moment of "quiet meditation". Outside, four police officers stormed down the pavement, scouring the streets and foreshore. We waited another ten minutes, then bailed.

Our contact was late, but worthwhile. We got $2000 for the two cameras we supplied. Enough to last us for the next few months. Coaxing the last few drops from the bottle of Cougar, I draped my arm around Ben. Water dripped in through the broken window, but I was too drunk to notice or care.

"We fuckin did it Ben. Good work." "Your idea Skip. I could kiss ya right now."

My free hand rested on his knee. "Why don't ya?"

Ben began to laugh, his eyes sparkling, his cheeks red. Finally he leaned around and kissed me lightly on the lips.

"Happy?" "That aint a kiss."

I yanked him over to me by his shirt and grinned, kissing him hard on the lips. To my surprise, his lips parted and our tongues intertwined. He moaned around my mouth and ran his hands over my arms and down to my waist.

My fingers traced the damp outline of his body through his clothes as I kised him deeply, tasting the bourbon and vodka on our breaths as I pawed at his smooth body. I reached down and grasped at his hardness, not knowing what i was doing (having never done this before) and not caring. He broke off the kiss long enough to shuck his jeans down, revealing his hard cock, with it's shining labrette sticking out like a written invitation.

"You sure Ben?" "No. But I wanna try it with you. Just to see."

I grinned and licked his lips, before holding his tool in my hand. Now or never. I bent down and hesitantly licked at his dick. I wasn't prepared for the barrage of senses which I was experiencing. The thick, full feeling of my mouth around my best mates dick, the warm, sweaty smell of his nether regions, the strong taste of his uncut head, with faint undertones off piss. I learnt quickly, wanting this to be as good for him as it was for me. he writhed and moaned, arching his back and spearing his cock deep into my mouth. I greedily sucked at him harder and faster, savouring his taste and smell, like a hungry baby feeding. I couldn't believe I was doing this. if it was a dream, I never wanted to wake up. i felt a quivering between ben's legs, a familiar feeling. A little freaked, I pulled off just as he gasped and a thick rope of come hit me in the cheek. Amazed at being so close, I was kind of stunned, woken out of this state only by the second burst of come shooting straight between my lips into my mouth. It tasted salty and a bit bitter. I'd tried my own before, but it never tasted like this. Licking every drop off his dick, I ground my own cock against his leg from within my pants, and a moment later, felt the subtle release of my seed against my own leg. Ben wrapped an arm around my lower back, yanking his jeans back up and lazily looking me in the eye.

"so whats it taste like?" "You wanna know?" "yeh."

I bent forward and kissed him deeper than before, letting him taste his own semen. he was tenatuive at first, but then full-n frenched me, kissing me hard and deep until I hgad to pull away just to catch a breath. He chuckled and gave me a warm, close hug, just like we always did when we were happy.

I had wanted this for so long, the moment was so perfect --

"FUCKING FAGGOTS!"

I was up and on my feet before he could finish. There were three of them. Big. Mean. Ben grabbed one of the rucksacks and we ran for the stairs, narrowly missing being tripped by the patrol guards.

Flying up the stairs to the attic, I shouted over to Ben. "ROOF!"

I heard a large clattering sound and spun around to see Ben kicking a hole through the ancient tilework of the aging building. As the guards climbed clumsily into the floorspace, we were able to slip out the hole and down across the roof to the fire escape.

We ran for blocks, all the way down into Kings Park, stopping only when we were absolutely sure we couldn't have been followed.

Thunder clattered in the sky.

"The money!" "Couldn't get it. Left it back on the ground. We only got four hundred in the sack." "Shit!"

I turned around and was awarded with a hearty shove to my chest...