Dean was serenely on his haunches as he stocked shelves. It was a calm day, almost boring. At the end of his shift, he was going to pick up Rory after her play rehearsal. He didn't mind working at Doose's Market as an apron. It had helped him gain local acceptance and stop being the new guy from Chicago. Nobody was around at such an hour. He placed the last bags of flour on the shelf and admired his work. Perfect.

"Excuse me, stock-boy, could you tell me where to find the shortening?" A male voice asked a bit arrogantly behind his back. It sounded quite familiar... Dean turned his head and saw him. Tristan. Rory's classmate. The one he had the pleasure to meet at the Chilton Dance.

"What are you doing here?" Dean inquired, pretty annoyed. He was so bothered by the other guy's presence but, not wanting to show it, he got back to work.

"I'm here for Rory, the play. I'm Romeo and she's Juliet. Hey, come on, she must have told you. She did tell you, didn't she?" Tristan explained as he took a look around and picked up a bag of flour. He was loving the way he was messing with the stockboy's head. The truth was that he hadn't stopped thinking about Dean since their encounter in the bathroom the night of the dance.

"Look, I think you better leave" Dean stated, his patience running out already. He had to take a deep breath to cool down and not kick him out of the market. What a temptation... Tristan, though, intended to keep having fun with him and knew exactly how, his was a knack for getting on people's nerves. So he just dropped the bag of flour which ripped and spilled all over the floor, a devious sneer on his face.

"Oops! God, I am so sorry. I am such a klutz. Here, let me. This should cover it" Tristan apologized, pulling out some money and letting it fall on the ground. That was it. Everybody always lost their minds when he acted like a conceited rich boy and the stock-boy was no exception.

Dean stood up, seeing red. His fist clenched as he lost his power of reason, throwing himself over Tristan and pushing him to a shelf. He didn't have time to worry about the items jumping off that the rich boy had responded by grabbing him by the shoulders. He swung 'em around with the intention of pinning the other to the floor and somehow reclaiming his dominance. Dean didn't let himself be frightened and dug his heel into the ground, using his momentum to flip him around.

They landed on the floor with a loud thud and fought right away to have the upper hand. Tristan managed to be on top, straddling the poor stock-boy, and just rubbed against him. Dean felt sick, flashbacks of the night of the dance haunting him. No, it was wrong. Wrong! He strove to wriggle away, forcing the rich boy to punch him in the chin to try and stop him. He didn't know the stock-boy, though. He took advantage of Tristan's guard down to knock him off balance and slip away.

The blondie wasn't about to let him go so easily therefore he wrapped his hands around the back of Dean's knees and yanked him forward. His attempt to escape was interrupted by a hit from Tristan that knocked the air out of him. Both men lay still for a moment, catching their breaths and pondering their next move. It was then that the rich boy noticed a little bulge pressing against him and smirked. Stealthily, he slid down but not enough for the stock boy to worry about it and shoved his face into his crotch.

Dean's eyes flew open as gritted teeth grasped his zipper, lowering it with slow and steady snicks. Soon, Tristan had snagged the waistband of the stockboy's underwear between his teeth and was pulling 'em down to release his semi-hard cock. He didn't have to think twice and took the junk into his mouth. Dean gasped at the sensation of the rich boy's lips and tongue sliding down his length. Nobody had blown him since... well, since Tristan had. His cock sprang to full hardness, 7,5 inches, as the blondie bobbed his head up and down.

It was fucked up. Dean knew it and wanted to fight it but his body was of another idea. The rich boy was good with his mouth, so good to have him giving in to it. As a moan escaped from his lips, Tristan pulled the stockboy's shaft from his mouth and grinned up at him. He had him. So he risked moving his hands off of the brace to wrap one around the base of Dean's cock and stuck out his tongue, teasingly swiping it over the glistening head. Then he lapped at the copious precum, enjoying its saltish taste, and engulfed him in his mouth again. The stiff shaft throbbed as he sucked harder and more forcefully.

Tristan could tell the stock-boy was right on the edge, his body squirming under him, therefore he slowed down. It wasn't time yet... He just reached down to his fly and worked it open. His 7 inches cock, until then strained at the seams of his pants, was quickly freed from the pressure of his clothes and bounced into Dean's face, making the stock-boy turn his head away with a frown.

Tristan had other plans in mind, though. He deepthroated Dean with a plunge which made him lift up and took the chance to shove his prick between his parted lips. The stock boy almost choked, taken by surprise, as the tip hit the back of his throat. Tristan started to rock his hips, fucking Dean's face, as he kept sucking him creating the perfect 69. His nose was buried in the stockboy's dark pubic hair and he cheerfully hummed around his shaft, the muscles of his gullet tightening in the process.

That was enough to push Dean over the edge. 7 spurts of hot, thick cum pumped out of his cock and into the rich boy's throat, sliding out of his mouth and down his chin. Then it was Tristan's turn. He shot out wad after wad for a total of 8 squirts of creamy, bitter jizz which filled the unaware stock-boy.

"Ptiu!" Dean spat and spluttered in disgust as he pulled back, out of breath. Tristan, on the contrary, swallowed it all to the last drop, loving the way it went down his gullet, and withdrew only afterward. Both tried to pull themselves together as the market around 'em was a mess. Shelves were knocked out and items scattered all over the floor. The stock-boy sighed. "W-why did you come?"

"To say goodbye" Tristan replied, getting off of him and to his feet. He offered him a hand to help him up and tucked his cock back in his trousers. Dean was confused by those words and the rich boy promptly forced himself to smile it away. "They send me to military school. I-I'll miss you"

Tristan turned around to hide the tears rolling down but Dean noticed 'em anyway as he watched the blondie walked out of the market and his life. Forever.