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“Marky,” the brunet spoke to him, walking into the big white doors as the blond was slipping out of the way. “Where’s Anne?”
“I don't know, but I know she told me,” Mark sighed, closing the door behind Tom, watching him as he shook his beat up black Vans onto the little camo green shoe rug Mark’s parents bought for the home a couple months ago. They bought it on a whim, thinking that it would do more good for Mark and Anne to take off their shoes as they walked in to not track dirt in, but Tom was the only one that followed it.
Mark’s parents liked Tom a lot- of course, they also loved how civil Tom and Anne were even after their breakup. It wasn’t a hard one to adjust to. He wasn’t ever over at the house much whenever Anne was his girlfriend, because she was really fickle about having boyfriends over when Mark was around, which would mean Mark had to be gone doing something else with his life and it had to be a good time for her parents. Which was rarely ever, at the time. But then Tom came along and met Mark, who practically leeched on him like a dog. Tom and Mark, Tom and Mark, their names were always said together now as if that was the way it always was.
So his parents adored Tom. He would come over for dinner a lot, stay endless nights with Mark, and come on short trips with them. It was almost like he was adopted into the family. Of course, Anne and the parents didn't know about the fact Tom and Mark were dating behind closed doors. They hid it from everyone. They also didn’t really exactly know why they did- maybe they thought it would bring down blink, maybe they thought Scott would think it was strange. Whatever their reasons, they hid it, but it didn't mean that they didn't fool around when the family was home. They just had to be quiet about it. But sometimes, nice moments like this, they were home alone to do whatever they wanted.
Mark didn't speak much of it. He called Tom and told him he was home alone, and although Tom was fucking around and trying to fix some game system he bought at a yard sale, he came anyway.
“Alright, baby,” Tom murmured as he put his hands on Mark’s waist, being as he was the shorter one and he wanted to bring his lover closer to him, “What are we going to do then?”
Mark chuckled, throwing his arms up to his taller boyfriend’s neck, “Well, I have some alcohol under my bed. We can also watch Sailor Moon or something on my tv..” That made Tom smile like a ninny. His perfect white teeth caught Mark’s eyes, making Mark feel a lot better about what he thought was almost a stupid idea, when although that’s all they truly ever did anyway. “I love you Tommy.”
“I love you too, Marky.”
“Mom, why’d you move me into this shitty place, I turn 18 in what feels like 2 days. I didn't have to live here.”
“Matthew Skiba. I'm doing what’s best for you, do you know that?”
“Yeah, you tell me that all the time mom,” Matt grunted as he hoisted a box on his shoulder. He was blond, no older than 17, wearing tight black jeans and a Dead Kennedys shirt. These were clothes he considered “casual.” His special band shirts he didn’t wear unless he was trying to impress someone- The Cure, Public Image Ltd. None of those for a silly house move. “At least I get the upstairs,” he mumbled, tossing the box on the floor and leaning on the desk they already put in front of the window.
The desk was black with a nice chair to go with it. Matt had the luxury of nice furniture- his family wasn’t rich, but they had enough money to move house to house, flip it, then sell it. His mom swore this house would be their last, enrolled him in the school they moment they walked into town. Poway High it was, a nice school with a whole bunch of punks and stoners walking near the closest Speedway smoking.
Matt looked up from his bored hands, seeing two boys stand in the middle of the room of the house next door, arms wrapped around each other. One was tall, brunet, and shirtless, and the other was much shorter and blond with all of his clothes on. At first it looked like they were talking, then they started kissing. Some part of Matt wanted to run downstairs and grab the curtains from the moving truck, but he just sat there with a bored expression.
“I love you,”
“I love you too,” Tom smirked at the ocean eyed blond, lifting him on his hips and holding him. Mark obliged, readjusting himself with a giggle.
“Tommy, I'm heavy. How do you handle this?”
“Because I want to, Marky, and because,” Tom didn't finish before he threw Mark against the wall, still in Matt’s vision unbeknownst to them, rocking his hips against Mark’s in full lust. Lips met harshly, Tom already feeling the elder’s hard on growing against his leg.
“Fuck Tom,” Mark gasped, almost reaching for air as if Tom had took it away and made it his own. “You always know what makes me,” he let out a little moan as Tom started kissing at his neck, “melt. Don't you babe?”
“Mmm.” Tom droned in a “this isn't a moan but it's still sexy” way, inching his way to his boyfriend’s ear. “I hope so. I love it when you're subservient to me.”
The blond didn't have a response other than a moan, going with whatever Tom was doing to him at the moment.
Matt watched as the blond eventually lost his shirt and then was thrown on the bed, both of the boys getting out of vision until the brunet (with boxers on, Matt thanked God) walked up and then got out a pair of silver handcuffs, then got out of vision again.
“Okay, time to break up their party.” The dirty blond mumbled to himself, making his way downstairs and then to the next house. 330, it was, a nice big beige house with a black roof.
The white door fell into his eyesight as he walked up to the porch, knocking on it. He waited a moment then kicked his black Converse around the welcome mat. It was just one basic green mat with welcome written in grey, something that looked like a try-too-hard parent would buy.
“Hello,” Mark answered the door, a loose Cure shirt hanging on his chest with some black basketball shorts.
“Hey.” The dirty blond said quickly, eying Mark’s attire. Obviously just thrown on, also obviously not the outfit he was wearing before. “My name’s Matt, I just moved in next door.”
“Oh yeah, I saw that.” The blue eyed goth fan spoke as he turned to see his brunet boyfriend appear behind him, with his pants on and still without a shirt. “Tom, this is Matt. He just moved in next door.”
“Hmm, nice,” the tall one said as he glanced at him- nothing too out of the ordinary. Tom did take note of the Dead Kennedys shirt, though. “Oh, and he’s a punk fan. Maybe now you won't scare off the neighbors with your music, ba-Mark.” He had almost started to say “babe” until he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to do that in front of people. When he did, Matt chuckled a little bit.
“Look. Tom, Mark-” he almost slurred the two names together, as if they were one. Mark stood there almost debating whether or not it was a purposeful action. “I don't mean to ruin your lovefest. But you really, really should close your curtains. I'm not wanting to see either of you thrown against walls or handcuffed. Unless, of course, you're getting arrested. That would be amusing to me.”
Tom didn't like him.
That was almost obvious at this point as the punk droned his sentence out. Tom was putting all of his thoughts together about him. Dirty hair, lazy clothes, can already tell he likes Mark more than he likes himself. Which Mark loves. Mark, however, never knows immediately whether or not someone likes him. It also doesn’t matter much until they show a liking to Tom more- that’s when Mark gets possessive. Unless it's his family, and he lets it be there.
“Alright, we can do that. Anything else? You want a cup of sugar or what?” Tom grunted out, crossing his arms over his bare chest. Mark looked over at him with a “Don't be a dick” face, but Tom rolled his eyes at it.
Tom loved being a dick. Mark knew that. His boyfriend always tried to be nice at first to everyone, and tried to keep his hatred below a smile and maybe a rude sentence here or there.
But now, Tom's being a dick. And Mark didn't know if it was for the love of being a dick, the hatred of Matt, or for the fact he interrupted getting dick.
Matt shuffled his feet. “Think I'm good. I didn't catch any of your last names. Mine’s Skiba.”
Mark smiled at him sweetly, trying to be the polar opposite of how his lover was acting towards the boy right now. “Hoppus. Mark Hoppus.” Matt nodded, then shot a look at Tom.
Tom was already planning on fucking with him, gears shifting in his head. He spat back a “DeLonge,” his famous way of making fun of himself. Not with the correct pronunciation, delong. De-Lonje. Matt nodded the same way as he did when Mark spoke his, so Tom assumed he went with it. Then Matt mumbled a “See ya.” and walked off, and before Mark could even shut the door completely Tom was already throwing him back against it in heat. Tom also threw him so hard that the door made a loud thump, so before the younger brunet started kissing at Mark’s neck he asked if he was okay.
“I'm okay babe. You’re really horny today.”
“Yeah, well,” Tom smirked at his boyfriend, slowly riding Mark’s Cure shirt off his chest. “I can't help it. I just have a sexy boyfriend to handcuff against his bed.” The brunet leaned over to him, kissing his lips gently to tease him, “And we were interrupted.”
When the two boys finally got upstairs, Mark shut his curtains. He didn't see Matt from the window when he did, but for all he knew he was there. It didn't matter. Matt already knew it all without a proper introduction.
The blond wanted to be embarrassed about that.
But he just wasn’t. What else did he have to lose?
“Does it make you uncomfortable that Matt knows about us, Tom?” Mark asked suddenly, sitting on the bed with an almost sad, worn out expression on his face.
Tom shrugged. “Not really. He makes me uncomfortable. I don't like him.” The younger brunet sat next to his boyfriend, wrapping an arm on his shoulders. “I mean, he seems really rude. Too much of an ego. He might have only been trying to be nice, but I really don't think that was it. I just think there’s something shady about him.”
Mark licked his lips, trying to form a response.
“Well maybe the fact I had my curtains open made him really uncomfortable.”
“I don't think so. We became out of eyeshot on your bed, I'm assuming. You know, I think he was just being an ass.”
“Maybe, babe.” The blond kissed Tom’s ear softly, a sweet gesture he picked up when Tom started gauging his ears. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I love you regardless of who knows about it.”
Tom smiled back at him, nose ring catching the light and shining against his face. “Me too, Marky. I love you above everything. I don't know what I'd do without you.”
Mark laughed, “Still the same. Jacking off, playing guitar, listening to NOFX.”
“Okay, yeah-” Tom smirked as he started crawling over Mark, pushing him into the bed, “But it's all more enjoyable now. Because I'm in love with you. You gave me more purpose.”
Mark blushed slightly, his eyes becoming more blue as he looked into Tom’s soft brown ones. “I could say the same about you.”
Then, two days later at school, Tom got a little surprise in homeroom.
His homeroom was Algebra 2 with Mr. Waters, a tall white male with curly black hair. He liked Tom a whole lot, especially for a teacher in his 30s that’s been teaching since he got out of college. There was one time when Mr. Waters was driving around town and saw Tom smoking a joint, then pulled over to say hey and held a conversation with him. Tom was embarassed when it happened at first, him holding his skateboard with a joint in his mouth, too high to be making a meaningful conversation, but Mr. Waters didn't seem to mind. He even said, “If it wasn’t against federal law, I'd join you.” From then on, Tom and him were really chill with each other. It was one of the best moments the brunet could recall, actually, and he called Mark later that night to tell him and Mark was extremely happy for him. Mark said he was, “glad someone accepts you for you. And because you didn't search for them, they came to you. You should try harder in his class than you do in other classes to show him you care.”
“Class,” Mr. Waters started, opening the door for a blond kid to strut in, wearing ripped grey jeans and a Misfits shirt on, “This is Matt Skiba. He’s joining the class from now on. So, yeah. Matt pick a seat.”
Tom couldn’t make his eyes move from the blond.
He looked nicer than he did the other day.
But, under the exterior, Tom knew there was nothing nice about him.
“Albert,” Mr. Waters started rollcall, like he did every day. Matt picked a seat a couple above Tom in the next row, near the front. “Here.”
“Jessica,”
“Yo.”
“DeLonge.” Tom was the only one that Mr. Waters introduced with their last name, and he loved it for whatever reason. Mr. Waters had always done it, and Tom never felt the need to correct him.
Matt turned around to look at Tom, who was still glaring at him. “DeLonge? Why’d you lie about your name to me?”
“I didn't.” Tom smirked as he started speaking, “I said DeLonge. Just in a funny way. Get it, cause I'm a funny guy, huh, Shiba?”
Tom had no doubt that Matt knew he was talking about the Japanese dog breed, he just didn't know whether or not Matt would think he was comparing him to a dog. The brunet hoped he got the message, but he just rolled his eyes and turned around.
The rest of the day, however, didn't have Matt in it at all. He wasn’t in Tom’s other classes, he didn't even pass by him in the hallway. Which just meant only a daily 50 minutes of seeing Matt, glaring at the back of his head, only 50 required minutes of being an asshole.
Tom was supposed to go to Mark’s after school, and for whatever reason the blond’s car was broke down and he didn’t want to hop on the bus because Matt would likely be on it, which also meant an extra 15 minutes of being an asshole. A commitment Tom didn't want to make. So, he walked. Mark was upset when he got there, but Tom said, “You should be glad I got here anyway.” in a very short, pissy mood.
“Babe? You okay?” Mark asked, turning on his TV. “What’s wrong?”
“I have class with Matt,” Tom grunted, plopping on Mark’s bed exhaustingly. “It's only one the whole day, but he knows I don't like him, and we just didn’t do well. Nothing bad happened. I just don't like it already.”
“Well,” Mark said, laying down next to the brunet, propping himself on his elbow to look at Tom in his brown eyes. “Your teacher and you are cool, right? You can always tell him Matt makes you uncomfortable.”
Tom chuckled, “He can't do anything about that, babe.”
The blond shrugged, “Yeah, maybe. I don't know. I'm sorry. At least you don't live next to the guy.”
“You could always move out. Go to a nice house in the country, take me with you, have a million sex toys,” the younger one teased, turning on his own elbow to look at his boyfriend. “You're right though.”
“Yeah, I know,” Mark spoke as he dropped his hand to Tom’s waist, pulling him closer as if Tom was a blanket and Mark was freezing. “It’s going to be okay, though.”
“I hope so,” Tom said as he kissed his boyfriend softly.
Days passed before Matt spoke to Tom again, and when he did, Tom was blown out of his seat.
“So how was last night with Hoppus?”
Tom shot him a glare.
Hoppus. So that’s what Matt decided to call his boyfriend. It doesn’t surprise him that much- Matt might have a thing for last names, considering his was odd himself. Skiba.
“Great. How was last night with your hand?” Tom spat before looking up hesitantly to Mr. Waters. Mr. Waters looked up from his desk- he had decided to let the class do silent work, but it obviously wasn’t very silent with Matt and Tom bitching at each other.
“Matt.” Mr. Waters said sternly, shooting a glare at the blond after glancing at Tom. “Be quiet please.”
“Tommy was talking too,” he argued back in an immature voice, clicking his blue pen in his hand.
Mr. Waters shot out an, “I don't care,” and went back to whatever he was doing on his desk.
Mr. Waters knew a lot about Tom. Too much for a teacher, for a person, really. Like the day he drove up to Tom smoking a joint, he drove up to Tom and Mark hanging out once. They were at a Walgreens not too far from the school, but far enough so they could relax about their PDA, and Mr. Waters saw them and decided to pull over again. He didn't see them kissing or anything, regardless of where they were they rarely kissed outside, but he could have seen Tom smack Mark’s ass.
“Hey, kiddo,” the curly black-haired teacher chuckled as Tom stopped in his tracks and blushed, holding his bag full of candy in his hand.
“Hey, Mr. Waters,” he mumbled as Mark began to walk backwards when he realized his boyfriend was talking to someone. “What’s up?”
Mr. Waters smiled. “Not much, just coming here to pick up a few things. Who’s this?”
“Hi,” Mark smirked as he walked up to the teacher’s black car, getting eyeshot of him, “My name is Mark. Mark Hoppus. You’re Mr. Waters, right?”
“That I am,” he smiled as he took his sunglasses off. “Tom’s told you about me?” Tom started coughing to distract Mark, but luckily for Tom, Mr. Waters started talking again. “Wait. Mark Hoppus? Do you have a sister named Anne?”
Mark nodded, “Yep! I didn't go to school with her, but she goes to school with Tom. She’s the reason we met.”
Tom shot his boyfriend a glare and mumbled, “Mark.” But once again, Mark ignored it and rolled his eyes at it.
“Cool cool,” Mr. Waters nodded as he got out of his car, “Alright, well I'll see you guys later. Tom, next time you plan on slapping your boyfriend’s ass, you might not want to do it in front of your teacher.” He chuckled, Mark started laughing super loud, and Tom became as red as a fire truck.
“Hey! You appeared from thin air,” Tom crossed his arms over his wifebeater,bag still in his hand. “But you won't tell anyone, right?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Nothing happened the rest of class that day, but it kept coming. And Mr. Waters pulled Tom out of class to ask if it bothered him, but Tom said, “No, because he isn’t specifying the gender. Someone the other day asked me why he was picking on me about Anne so much, and I said, “Probably because he likes her and he’s angry I tapped it first.” Mr. Waters chuckled at that and let Tom back into class.
“Gonna fuck him the same way you do Hoppus, Tommy?” Matt chuckled at him, this one quiet enough for Mr. Waters to not hear.
“Maybe. You want in? Always more room for a cuck like yourself.”
“DeLonge.”
Tom smirked at his teacher before going back to his work.
Nothing changed over the course of the next week, Matt kept teasing Tom and Tom kept giving him better comebacks. Surprisingly, Matt didn't seem to be running out of shitty things to say about Mark, but finally one day a girl said, “Matt, why do you keep teasing Tom about Anne? They broke up a long time ago.”
Matt turned towards her, then to Tom and then glared at him.
“What?”
Tom chuckled, “Yeah, you’d be surprised how much I go over to her house considering I'm in a band with her brother, right? I mean, I get how you could have misunderstood..” He trailed off, looking at Mr. Waters with a satisfied expression. After that, Matt dropped his act for the rest of class, and when Tom walked out of class Mr. Waters told him he was going to transfer Matt’s class before he shouted anything about Mark. The brunet mumbled a, “Thank you.” and walked out, on his way to geometry.
When Tom got to Mark’s that day, which wasn’t planned, but his parents were fighting and he decided to not stay there, he told Mark about it all and Mark marched to Matt’s door, only for him to answer.
“Matt. Don't continue this, if I find out about it, I will kick your ass. And it won't be pretty. Ever got your ass kicked by a guy three years older than you? I wouldn’t recommend it. And don't think I won't, I live less than 10 steps away. Got it?”
“Got it. Now leave me alone, Mark.”
“I will unless you fuck with Tom again.”
“I get it.” Matt shot out as he shut his door, only to have Mark walk back up in his bedroom to find Tom under his covers, watching his blond boyfriend walk in.
“Lock the door, babe.” The younger brunet droned slowly, with Mark already losing his shirt and crawling under the covers with him.
“I love you, Tom,” Mark said so only Tom could hear, kissing his nose softly.
“I love you too, Mark. Thank you.”
“You don't need to thank me.” The blonde smiled, pulling Tom closer. “I'd do anything for you. I wish you would have told me sooner he was picking on you..”
Tom cut him off, “But it's okay, babe. Even if someone put it together that it was about you, I wouldn’t care, I love you, you're my world. You're worse than my fear of the boy next door.”