Aaron muttered to himself rebelliously as he trudged along, hands shoved in the pockets of his pants. Marcus, who was walking next to him, didn't look particularly happy either. Neither of them liked being sent out shopping.
Roman had charged up to Aaron as soon as he entered the room. After raving about how Aaron looked in his uniform, Roman ordered Kris to hand over a half mile long shopping list. While Aaron was still trying to remember how to speak, Roman assigned Marcus as bodyguard; apparently somebody had told him what happened with Cara (at which point Aaron glared at Kris and Benji, who pretended innocence) and he wasn't willing to risk his puppy's neck. To him, sending Marcus on the trip was a perfect idea. It didn't matter how Marcus glared at him, reluctantly pulling himself away from Kris and his tablet, and maintained a sullen silence while the club's credit card was handed over.
Aaron had stared at it with wide eyes. His mother had a charge card for a supermarket once; this one was different, shimmery and golden with Roman's name on it. Aaron had a feeling it was the kind of card that didn't have a limit. After Roman told him the pin, Aaron could have bought a ticket to an exotic place, could have bought his own plane- he cold have bought sharks with frickin' laser beams attached to their frickin' heads if he wanted to. But he didn't. He'd tucked the card carefully in his pocket, retrieved his bag from where he dropped it when Roman startled him, and walked right out the door- and he wasn't even surprised when none of the teachers in the hallways tried to stop him.
"Are you going to keep that up the whole way?"
Aaron looked up, surprised, to find Marcus looking at him with an irritated scowl. "Maybe," he said automatically, his own exasperation bringing a small smile to Marcus's face; Aaron didn't have the heart to stop a returning smile from tugging at the corners of his mouth, "It depends; do you have something to talk about other than Roman's apparent inability to be anything other than an obnoxious twit?"
That did it- the frustration on Aaron's face and the way he wrapped his arms around himself as if it could protect him from the host club president's supposed idiocy broke Marcus's control. He began to laugh, and the way he seemed surprised by it made Aaron think the other boy didn't laugh often. But Marcus's aquamarine eyes lit up, his smile wide and showing perfect teeth, and just that quickly the almost threatening air that shrouded Marcus was gone.
Aaron found himself relaxing, his aggravation with Roman fading away; the walk through the muggy August air to the grocery store was almost worth it, to hear Marcus laugh. "So tell me, mister tall, dark, and silent, what kind of music do you listen to?" Aaron asked. He didn't wait for an answer, yanking out one of the earbuds Marcus had put in when they walked outside.
"No, wait!" Marcus reached out, trying to snatch it back.
It was too late; an incredulous smile was blossoming on Aaron's face. Without missing a beat he began singing along with the track Marcus had been listening to. He stopped after the chorus, easily recognizable from the crappy pop stations that had infested the radio. Aaron couldn't help himself- he busted up, laughing so hard he had to stop walking, "The tough guy listens to freaking One Direction? Are you kidding me with this crap?"
Marcus was actually flushed when he yanked on the cord of his headphones, making them pop out of both their ears. "It's a bad habit I picked up from my little sister," he muttered, flicking the power switch on his newest generation iPod and shoving it in his pocket.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with listening to that kind of music," Aaron said, holding his hands up. A devilish smile crept to his face, and he continued, "So long as you don't mind having your ears bleed."
Marcus struggled with his chuckle, but it broke free despite his effort. "Fine then, what do you listen to, puppy?"
Aaron grimaced- it seemed all the boys had adopted that unpleasant nickname. He quickly pushed the aggravation away, pulling out his battered MP3 player and setting to work untangling the headphones while he spoke. "I listen to good music, unlike you," he joked, bumping the other boy playfully with his hip.
Marcus stumbled. Not because small, slender Aaron was actually strong enough to imbalance him physically- Aaron unbalanced him in a completely different way. He looked at Aaron with new eyes, and it was suddenly easy to see why Kris had been so eager to bring the boy into their club. He debated saying something about it, but Aaron's exasperated "Marcus!" diverted his attention.
"What?" he said blankly. Aaron rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in a gesture of exasperation, "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."
"Because that wasn't obvious," Aaron said, rolling his eyes.
It drew another laugh from Marcus, who couldn't help but compare the club's new pet to the twins; though Aaron was simply quiet where the twins were bitter and withdrawn, they were all warm and eager to smile when they were at ease. Aaron's eyes brightened, his smile was small and real; when he was comfortable, with his shy murmur morphing into ready laughter, Marcus could easily see him becoming a host club favorite. Kris had picked his pet well.
Aaron whacked his arm, his laughter telling Marcus he'd zoned out again. “Sorry!" Marcus said immediately, holding his hands up and wishing he had a white flag to wave for the boy, "What were you saying before I vacationed in the stars?"
Aaron giggled, a sound that had Marcus's smile permanently fixed to his face- he'd never thought a boy's giggle could be anything more than annoying, much less so utterly endearing. "I asked you if you've ever listened to Bon Jovi," Aaron repeated the query Marcus had missed.
"You don't listen to that foreign crap, do you?" Marcus asked, eyeing the boy's MP3 with wary distrust.
Aaron gasped and staggered like Marcus had wounded him, dramatically clasping a hand over his chest and looking at Marcus with a sad expression. "You poor soul. I'll have to introduce you to the wonders of one of the best bands since... ever!"
Marcus didn't seem sold after Aaron's exuberant exclamation, but he let Aaron slip one of the earbuds into his ear. Aaron flicked through songs as they walked, explaining as they listened. This song was from their very first album, and these four were the most popular on the radio, but Aaron wasn't particularly fond of them. No, he liked songs like No Regrets, Naked, and Ugly. And when One Wild Night started to play, Aaron found no shame in dancing on the sidewalk.
"I'd rather not go in there," Marcus said, wrinkling his nose and the mom-and-pop grocery store Aaron had stopped in front of.
Aaron rolled his eyes. "Spoiled brat," he said, only half teasing. It didn't convince Marcus, and Aaron didn't feel like arguing it, "Fine, you stay out here. You can listen to some of the other music- try Poison or Motley Crue."
Marcus nodded and started to scroll through Aaron's library. He was surprised to find soundtracks from a few movies, including Rocky Horror Picture Show, and laughed his way through a Toby Keith song about disposable cups while Aaron started ticking items off the grocery list.
"Are they feeding an army?" he grumbled as he filled the carts with candy and sweets. It wasn't long before he had filled half the cart, and knew the walk back would be miserable. It took longer than he would have thought, but eventually he had everything on their list except some kind of foreign, chocolate-coated berry Aaron was pretty sure he'd only ever seen at Costco.
Aaron brought the shopping cart up to the front of the store and began unloading the groceries. He waited, a tiny smile on his face, for the ever-so-slightly overweight woman running the cash register to recognize him. When she did, her sparkling green eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. "Now if it isn't my Aaron! What modeling company finally got their claws into you?" she squawked.
"A modeling company wouldn't look twice at me," Aaron said dismissively.
Amelia knew better than him. A pudgy woman in her late forties with graying hair, she'd retired from modeling to get married- one could see her history in her features. If anyone could have seen the attractive boy hiding behind Aaron's plain clothes and the rat's nest he called hair, it would have been her. "Well I'm just glad somebody's gone and fixed you up. Bet everybody's swooning over you at school," she said, winking at him dramatically.
"You don't know the half of it," Aaron snorted, glancing at Marcus through the window.
Amelia followed his gaze and giggled. "Don't tell me that handsome boy belongs to you!" she gasped. She squeaked at Aaron's nod, "I always knew you had it in you!"
Aaron's face turned bright red, which only excited Amelia more. He didn't say anything to deny it, knowing how long it would take to explain. He tuned her out instead, watching the price climb as she scanned items. It was quickly well over what he spent on meals for two in a week, then a month- simply appalling to him.
Amelia realized it too, and her happy chatter died away. She rambled out the total, and there was pity in her eyes- until Aaron brought out Roman's pretty gold credit card and ran it, punching in the four digit pin.
"Where did you-"
"It's a long story, 'Melia," Aaron cut her off quickly with a crooked smile.
The woman shook her head, punching a few buttons. "Will you be donating to charity today?" she asked.
"Well..." Aaron glanced at the window again, but Marcus had moved. He gnawed on his bottom lip, and then made a quick decision, "Yes, I will."
They wouldn't possibly be put out by twenty dollars after what he'd just spent, he figured. He gathered the bags after Amelia shoved the receipt into one of them. "Thanks, 'Melia. See you after school," he told his employer with a grin.
Amelia blinked, finally realizing the boy should have been at school, not at the store. It was too late to call him back and demand answers, though. Amelia watched him walk out, a fond smile on her face; she really did like that kid.
Aaron huffed and puffed under his load of bags, maneuvering awkwardly out the door. He looked around for Marcus, only to find the boy missing.
The color drained out of Aaron's face. It just figured. Those rich brats had sent him out and left him there all alone. He bet that note from the dean was fake, and the credit card too. Or when he went back, Roman would tell the dean he stole it. Aaron would be expelled, and Amelia would hate him, and his mother...
The honk of a car horn distracted Aaron from his quickly deteriorating thoughts. He looked up to see the kind of sleek, black, obviously expensive car he had always envied loitering at the curb. The back passenger window rolled down, and Marcus stuck his head out. "You coming in to enjoy the A/C, or are you going to sweat your way back to school?" he called.
Aaron blanched, guilt eating at him; after all Harry had done for him, he shouldn't be expecting the worst from the host boys. But his guilt quickly disappeared when the car door popped open. A wide grin spread across Aaron's face, the smile of somebody who thought they just might have made a friend- albeit a spoiled rich one who called for a car when he was two blocks from the school. "Coming!" he said, throwing himself into the welcoming arms of the car's cool air and escaping the California heat.
"So what's up with this Panic at the Disco thing?" Marcus asked. Aaron laughed, and was more than happy to explain as they made their way through lunch hour traffic back to the school.
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