sir krunk

Apres L'Eclatement

The explosive was set. It was small, no more than he needed. He had it in a thick plastic bag, then lightly wrapped in duct tape. He taped it to the back of the bowl, then set the crude timer for 30 minutes. That would make sure the explosion was during class, lessening the chance that people would get hurt. Not that he really cared, but it would fuck him over worse if someone got their ass blown off while they were taking a shit.

He grinned as he checked the tape one last time, then walked out of the bathroom to his next class, which was math.

While his teacher rattled on about theorems and equations and other boring shit, he checked his watch. Ten more minutes. Just ten more measly minutes. 600 seconds. 6000 milliseconds. There. That's some fucking math for...

"Yes, Ms. Douglas?"

"I would appreciate it if you would pay attention, Mr. Kimblee."

"I am now, Ms. Douglas."

"Good. Now come up to the board, and complete this equation."

"Of course, Ms. Douglas." Kimblee walked up to the blackboard at the front of the classroom, giving his least-favorite teacher his most winning smile. He nonchalantly checked the clock above the board. Nine more minutes.

He easily completed the equation on the board, and returned to his seat. Ms. Douglas looked at him, then looked back at the board. He smiled at her, making her roll her eyes at him.

He looked back down at his watch. Seven more minutes.

While he waited, he doodled toilets engulfed in flames on a sheet of paper, then got bored, and looked at his watch. Six more minutes.

A hand slapped down on his desk, centimeters away from his own.

"Can I help you, Ms. Douglas," Kimblee asked softly as he looked up, frowning slightly.

"Is there a problem with my class, Mr. Kimblee?"

He smiled at her sarcastically. "No, not at all. Does it look like there's a problem?"

She rolled her eyes at him again, then shook her head. "Just keep up with the class, and do the rest of the problems on page 85."

"Of course, he said sweetly.

He glanced back down at his watch. Four more minutes.

"Why do you keep looking at your watch?"

Shit. He thought she had left.

"I'm hungry, Ms. Douglas. Can't wait for lunch."

"Uh-huh. Right." She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she walked away.

Kimblee flipped open his textbook, figuring that he might as well do something while he waited for the... Another glance, this time up at the clock. Three more minutes. That gave him time to do a problem or two, just enough to make it look like he actually gave a good goddamn.

He glanced down at his watch again, and chuckled to himself. 3... 2... 1...

He pressed his feet firmly to the floor, and felt it slightly shake.

The telephone in the classroom rang shortly after.

Ms. Douglas answered it, then yanked it away from her ear, looking at it wide-eyed.

When she brought it back to her face, she spoke quickly.

"Yes sir, yes sir. Right away, sir. He's on his way right now, sir."

She jerked, then set the phone back in the cradle. Without turning back to the class, she spoke.

"Zolf J. Kimblee, you are to collect your things, and go straight to the principal's office."


Grabbing his textbook and binder, he quickly left the room. About halfway down the hall, he saw the piss-ant pasty-ass vice president of the student council who thought he was hot shit. Eric, Aaron, Arthur... No, that wasn't quite it.

"Archer," he softly said to himself.

Kimblee nodded as he walked past the shorter man.

"Zolf. Hey, stop."

Kimblee stopped walking, but still didn't acknowledge the other man.

A soft voice in his ear. "You know why I'm here, don't you?"

Kimblee grinned maniacally, but feigned innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come on, Zolf."

"Come where? And could you call me Kimblee?"

"Come with me to the student council office."

"Why would I want to do that? I was called down to Principal Bradley's office," Kimblee said, still facing away from Archer.

"Principal Bradley changed his mind. Now, if you would come with me."

Kimblee held up his hands in surrender, and said "Alright, I'll go. But I still don't know what you want."

Archer gripped Kimblee's bicep and flung the taller man against the lockers. He grabbed Kimblee's shirt front, and began snarling in his face.

"Look you fucker, I know you know what I'm talking about. Now fucking come with me to the goddamn student council office."

Kimblee backed his head as far away as he could from the other teen, looking at him wide-eyed. "I told you I'd go."

Archer let go of Kimblee's shirt as if it burned him and then wiped his hands on his pants. He walked away, not bothering to turn and look to see if Kimblee was following, just listening for footsteps. After hearing nothing by the time he had gotten halfway down the hall, Archer turned around and found himself face to face with Kimblee.

"I'm right behind you," Kimblee said, grinning.

Archer scowled. "Walk in front of me, so I can see you."

Kimblee shrugged. "If it pleases his majesty."

As he walked closer to Archer, Kimblee whispered, "I'll quit if you let me fuck you."

The pale teen began walking again, once Kimblee started moving, then said, "Impossible. You're just not going to blow up my toilets."

Kimblee shrugged easily. "I gave you my offer."

"Quit jacking around with Maes and get your shit done, Roy."

Roy Mustang glared at Riza Hawkeye, secretary of the student council. "I'm not jacking around with Maes." He leaned over and started to slide his hand down the other man's pants. "This would be jacking around with Maes."

Maes Hughes, treasurer of the student council, raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend. "Either get your hand out of my pants and get your shit done," he whispered as he leaned over Roy, ghosting his lips over the other man's ear. "Or finish what you've started."

Riza glared at both of them and threw a paperback book, which they easily dodged. "Quit fucking around, you two."

"But Riza, I'm not fu..."

"Don't finish that sentence." She hoisted a hard back book this time, ready to throw it at a moment's notice. "I don't know how I stand you two," she mumbled as she filed some of the papers in Roy's 'DONE' pile.

She felt arms wrap around her waist, then Roy's voice was in her ear. "It's because you loooove us."

She elbowed him in the stomach in response.

Roy lazily shrugged as he walked away, sitting back at his desk. He eyeballed the large 'NOT DONE' pile and then let his head fall onto the desk, using the papers as a makeshift pillow.

Until Riza kicked his chair out from under him.

Maes stifled giggles behind his hand as Roy stood back up, glaring at Riza.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Get your shit done."

He raised an eyebrow back at her, saying nothing.

She sighed and pulled out a three inch thick stack. "Finish these and we'll talk."

Roy sat back down in a huff, holding a hand out for the papers. Riza slapped him in the head with them before dropping the papers in his hand. Roy pleadingly looked over at Maes, who frowned at him fondly.

"You're on your own. I've got my own crap to deal with."

Roy glanced hopefully up at Riza, then looked back down at his papers, dejected. He sighed as he read the top sheet of the stack, initialed the bottom right corner, then flipped it over, and sighed again, restarting the cycle.

After about five minutes of the sighing and reading, Riza threw another paperback book at Roy. "READ QUIETLY!"

Maes looked up in time to see the book hit Roy dead center in his forehead. He gasped, then bit the inside of his lip to keep from bursting out laughing.

Roy glared, and then calmly set the book aside, for use as later ammunition. When he finally turned the last page in the stack that Riza gave him, he sat back, stretching and yawning, until Archer burst through the door with Kimblee in tow.

Frank Archer nodded toward Roy, then practically threw Kimblee in a chair close to the door.

Kimblee fell into the chair, glaring up at Archer. "The hell was that for?"

Archer just glared at him. "Is there a free room somewhere, Mustang?" He looked at the only person above him in the student council and seethed inwardly at the other man's extreme show of laziness.

"MUSTANG!" Archer yelled as he slapped his hand down on the desk.

Roy sat forward, lazily raising an eyebrow at him. "What is it, Frank?"

"I need a room to interrogate this son of a bitch," Archer spat as he pointed at Kimblee.

Roy nodded and weakly waved a hand in Riza's direction. She pulled out a massive binder, then after glancing at it for a few moments and flipping back and forth between pages, she said, "923B is free for the rest of the day. It will be locked."

She set the binder down on Roy's desk, walked over to a locked cabinet, and pulled out a key. "This will get you into only 923B," she told Archer as she handed him the small silver key.

He nodded. "Thank you, Hawkeye." Walking back over to Kimblee, he hauled the other man up by his armpit and shoved him out the door. "Let's go."

While Archer man-handled Kimblee out the door, Roy looked over at Riza with a raised eyebrow. She just shrugged back at him

When Archer and Kimblee finally got to the empty classroom, Archer dug the key out of his pocket, and shoved Kimblee in the room.

Once he regained his balance, Kimblee glared at Archer. "What's your fuckin' deal, Prep?"

Archer scowled at Kimblee, remembering an earlier conversation

Principal Bradley steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them as he looked at the pale young man sitting in front of him.

"I want you take care of this... situation... with Zolf Kimblee."

Archer nodded. He opened his mouth to speak when Bradley interrupted him.

"The rest of the school administration and I have done everything in our power to make him stop defacing school property other than expelling him outright. He's a good student, but these repeated incidents are tarnishing his record. So, I've thought about it, and have determined that the best course of action is for one of his peers to dole out the consequences."

Archer nodded again. "Yes, sir."

Bradley smiled brightly as he stood up. "Good. I'm glad you understand. If everything goes well, I can contact some of the schools that you're looking into, and put in a good word for you," he said, clapping Archer on the back and ushering him out the door.

"But remember," he said softly before letting the young man leave. "The reverse holds true as well."

Archer turned, looking back at the principal, wide-eyed.

Principal Bradley smiled warmly as he squeezed Archer's shoulder. "I have faith that everything will go well, Frank. Now go on, and get back to class.

Archer scowled at Kimblee. "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, you asshole." He curled his fist and raised his arm, ready to punch Kimblee in the face.

Kimblee caught the fist flying toward his face in the palm of his hand and practically slithered up to Archer.

"I told you. I'd quit if you let me fuck you," he whispered.

Archer blushed as he glared at Kimblee. "And I told you, that's not a fucking option," he hissed through clenched teeth.

Kimblee smiled toothily, squeezing Archer's fist. "Your loss."

Archer tore his hand out of Kimblee's grasp and looked at him with disgust clearly written across his features.

"Don't touch me," he seethed as he wiped his hand on his pants.

"You didn't seem to mind touching me earlier," Kimblee smirked.

Archer blushed again, then brushed by Kimblee as he stepped further into the classroom. "Look, if you stop this shit, I'm sure that Principal Bradley will put in a good word with the colleges you want to go to."

Kimblee burst out laughing as he walked over to the teacher's desk at the front of the room, leaning on it to steady himself while he began laughing harder.

"I fail to see the humor in this situation," Archer deadpanned.

Kimblee boosted himself up then sat on the desk, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "He told you that one too? What a load of shit," he said, sobering quickly.

Archer looked back at Kimblee, startled. "He means what he says."

Kimblee shook his head, softly chuckling to himself. "That's how he tries to get everyone to do what he wants. In fact, I'm willing to bet that he told you that if you could 'resolve the situation' or some shit, he'd put in a good word with all the schools you want to go to."

Archer gasped, wide-eyed, before schooling his expression.

Kimblee chuckled again. "I'm not surprised."

Archer glared at Kimblee again, straightening his back. "Either way, you need to quit this improper and unnecessary behavior."

Kimblee raised an eyebrow. "Or what? You'll try to beat the shit out of me? New tactic, please." He began swinging his legs, letting his heels slam into the wooden front of the desk.

Archer rolled his eyes at Kimblee's childish behavior.

Kimblee pushed himself off the desk, sliding to the floor easily, then walked over to Archer. "Well, what will you do," he asked softly, almost seductively, as he trailed his fingers down Archer's cheek.

Archer stood stock still, frozen in place momentarily. He raised his hands and shoved at Kimblee's chest, bringing himself out of his daze. "I told you not to touch me," he growled as he smoothed his already slicked-back hair.

Kimblee touched his thumb to his fingertips, trying to share the feeling of Archer's skin on as much of his own as he could.

"But you skin is so smooth and so soft."

Archer scowled. "You're disgusting."

Kimblee smirked as his eyes flicked down to Archer's crotch.

"That's not what your body is saying." He looked back at Archer's cock straining under his pants. He walked closer to him, barely touching the other man's hip, until Archer pushed him again. This time with enough force to knock him flat on his ass. Kimblee smirked again, watching a dark, wet spot slowly form on the front of the other man's pants.

"Or is it that you like to slap me around?"

Archer looked away, his cheeks reddening. "Don't be absurd."

Kimblee crawled back over to Archer, then trailed his fingers across Archer's brown leather shoes, up his pant leg until Archer's foot was on his shoulder, pushing him back. He looked up, and saw cold blue eyes staring down at him.


Kimblee smirked as he followed the path that his fingers made up Archer's pant leg with his tongue. He followed his fingers all the way up to the crotch of his pants, where he paused to lap at the wet spot before he slowly pulled down the zipper with his teeth. After he slowly removed Archer's cock from his pants, Kimblee slowly licked off all the precum, then felt his long ponytail be roughly grabbed and wrapped around the other man's hand. He looked back up at Archer and saw the pale man sneering down at him. He opened his mouth and flicked his tongue against the tip of Archer's cock while the other man pushed him forward, none-too-gently.

"Suck it," Archer hissed as Kimblee's warm mouth enveloped his cock.

Kimblee moaned low in his throat as he sucked hard, causing Archer to thrust deep into his mouth. He leaned forward, placing his palms on the floor and relaxing his jaw, allowing Archer to fuck his mouth.

"You like that, don't you, you little whore," Archer growled as he gripped Kimblee's hair tighter.

Kimblee moaned again, digging his fingers into the floor.

Archer released Kimblee's hair and pushed on his forehead, shoving him back onto his booted heels. "Open your mouth," he growled again as he began to quickly stroke his cock.

Kimblee opened his mouth and closed his eyes, and soon felt warm wetness covering his face. He opened his eyes back up when he heard Archer sigh, then sag to the floor in front of him, with his cock still hanging out of his pants.

"You got what you wanted, right," Archer panted. "You'll stop now?" He looked at Kimblee's cum-soaked smirking face and raised an eyebrow.

"No. On both accounts. I said that I'd quit if you let me fuck you."

Archer stared at Kimblee blankly.

"Isn't doing what you just did enough?"

Kimblee laughed, gesturing at his own swollen crotch. "No, that definitely wasn't enough. That just gave me a taste." He licked his lips. "And it was a damn good one, at that."

He pushed himself forward and leaned over Archer.

Archer hissed as he leaned backward. "Get away from me."

Kimblee looked up and let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark. "Get away from you?" He looked back at Archer with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Newsflash, I just sucked your cock."

Archer shrank back further, looking away from Kimblee's piercing golden eyes. Kimblee leaned closer to Archer and caressed the other man's jawline as he smiled softly to himself.

Archer scrambled backward, away from Kimblee, until his back pressed against the wall. A look of horror was etched on his face.

"Stop fucking touching me," he screamed hysterically.

Kimblee sat back. "Zip yourself up," he said softly. He walked to the other side of the small classroom, turned around, and sat with this back against the opposite wall, facing Archer.

After a few minutes of silence, with neither of them looking at the other, Archer spoke up.

"I apologize for yelling," he said. His voice shook slightly as he continued. "But I'm not gay. Hell," he spoke in a whisper and Kimblee strained to hear him. "I've never even had sex before."

Kimblee blinked and looked up at Archer. "I thought you were dating someone."

Archer nodded. "Last year. That bastard Mustang stole her from me, and then dumped her a day later," he seethed. "For his boyfriend." Archer looked like he was ready to hurl.

"You didn't bone her," Kimblee asked.

"No, I didn't 'bone' her," he said mockingly. "She wanted to wait for marriage and I respected her decision."

Kimblee snorted. "You probably rubbed one off as soon as you got home."

Archer raised his head proudly, staring Kimblee down. "Whether I did or did not masturbate is not the topic of conversation."

Kimblee raised his hands. "Hey, it's cool if you did. I do all the time."

Archer shook his head, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I didn't want to know that."

"You didn't?" Kimblee mock-pouted. "I thought we were sharing. Bonding, even."

Archer let out a short, humorless laugh. "No."

"What? We're not going to be buddies? Become inseparable? Maybe even the rest of the school will combine our names like they do with the Hollywood couples. Like Bennifer, except it would be," he paused to think for a moment.

"Frimblee? Arckim?"

"No." Archer leaned backward, letting his head slam into the wall.

"Oh!" Kimblee sat forward, excited. "What about Zolcher?"

Archer looked at Kimblee as if he was insane. "What the hell is Zolcher?"

"Zol is from Zolf.—cher is from Archer."

"So Frimblee would be..."

"Frank and Kimblee."

The palm of Archer's hand met his own face with a resounding slap. "Are you nuts?"

Kimblee grinned and shrugged. "Probably."

Archer let his hand slide off his face and fall into his lap.

"Why me," he asked softly, looking down at the hand in his lap.

Kimblee shrugged again. "Why not you? Despite popular belief, you're good looking."

Archer stared at Kimblee.

"You are." He sighed. "Can I come a bit closer? I feel like I'm shouting across town."

Archer nodded.

Kimblee stood up and walked back to the teacher's desk, leaning his back against it as he slid down to the floor. "Is this alright?

Archer nodded again. "Yeah. That's fine." He looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up at Kimblee. "Why do you do that?"

"I do a lot of things. Be specific," Kimblee answered, watching Archer's every move.

"Why do you set off bombs?"

"Mmm," he softly moaned to himself. "A lot of reasons. The smell of the gunpowder is intoxicating, and the sound and vibrations from the explosion is orgasmic."

Kimblee's hand strayed down to his crotch, and he gently rubbed himself through his pants as he looked Archer. "Have you ever had anything that you love to do so much, but you know it's totally wrong?"

Archer looked away from Kimblee, and down at the floor. "No. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

Kimblee sat forward, his palms slapping the tiles. "You do! You totally do! What, do you shove something in your ass when you whack off at night?"

Archer visibly shuddered. "No. That's disgusting."

"What about your pretty silk panties," Kimblee asked quietly as he sat back.

Archer gasped.

Kimblee smirked. "Yeah, I saw them." He squeezed his now obvious erection through his jeans.

"What... Why..." Archer sputtered.

"Why didn't I say anything?"

Archer nodded, his mouth agape.

"It was the damn sexiest thing I'd ever seen." He hissed as he pressed the heel of his hand down his erection. "That black silk covering your pale skin..." He trailed off, faintly moaning.

They sat in relative silence for a few minutes, Kimblee's quiet panting the only noise to be heard.

"Can I see them," Kimblee asked in a low voice, trying not to spook Archer.

Archer said nothing, still gaping at the other man. Kimblee braced himself on the desk, slowly standing up, but not taking a step.

"I'm just going to close the shades."

Archer nodded, closing his mouth, but kept his eyes glued to Kimblee's groin.

As he promised, Kimblee walked around the room and closed the shades, then sat back in front of the teacher's desk. He drew his knees up, but kept his legs spread, and rested his forearms on his knees.

"Can I please see them," he murmured after a moment.

Archer sighed, exasperated. "Fine." He slowly stood up, then unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing them down far enough for Kimblee to see the black silk panties.

"That's beautiful," Kimblee moaned. "Will you come closer?"

Archer rolled his eyes as he pulled his pants back up, walking to the space between Kimblee's knees.

"May I," Kimblee asked as he reached up.

Archer nodded, looking up and away from Kimblee while the other man carefully pulled his pants down. He heard Kimblee hiss, then yell, "Holy shit!"

Archer jumped backward, yanking his pants back up. "What?!"

Kimblee shook his head. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. But you remember how I said that you in silk panties was the damn sexiest thing that I'd ever seen? Well, I may have to revise that statement."

Archer looked at him, not believing his ears.

"You in silk panties and a garter belt is the fucking sexiest thing that I've ever seen in my life," he said, moving onto his hands and knees. He slowly crawled over to Archer and stopped in front of him, gently grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands away from his pants. He whimpered as he saw Archer's rock-hard cock making a wet spot in the silk, then licked it.

Archer hissed and easily twisted his wrist out of Kimblee's grip. He grabbed the other man's dark hair and yanked his head up.

"If we're going to do this," he growled, "we're going to do it my way."

Kimblee grinned wolfishly. "Of course."

Archer glared down at Kimblee with slitted eyes.

"Take off my shoes."

"Yes, of course." Kimblee leaned down and untied the laced on one shoe, then slid it off and set it to the side when Archer lifted his foot. After he repeated the process with the other foot, he reached up to pull off Archer's pants, until Archer pulled his hair again, yanking him back.

"Did I say you could do that," he hissed.

"No, you didn't. I apologize," Kimblee said quietly, moaning from the combination of pleasure and pain running through his scalp.

Archer loosened his hold on Kimblee's hair. "Now you may take them off."

Kimblee slowly pulled Archer's russet brown slacks off and started to toss them onto a desk when Archer yanked his hair again.

"Fold them properly."

Kimblee nodded, quickly folding the pants. He placed them on a desk before he sat back and stared reverently at Archer's cock, covered by the panties, then his legs, encased in sheer black pantyhose and leading up to a black silk garter belt. He slowly planted kisses and gentle bites up Archer's thigh until he reached his silk-covered cock, and licked at the front of the panties. Archer hissed when Kimblee's tongue touched his bare flesh, then yanked on the other man's long hair again.

"Now," he growled. Then softly, "before I lose my nerve."

Kimblee slowly stood up, and leaned closer to Archer, slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt, then gently ran his hands down the smooth, muscled planes of his chest. He pushed the shirt off Archer's shoulders, then without having to be told, he unbuttoned the cuffs and folded the shirt, placing it on top of the pants. He leaned down and wetly licked a line down his chest as he pushed Archer back onto a desk. Kimblee carefully yanked the panties down, scraping his blunt nails against Archer's hips.

Archer moaned as Kimblee gently lifted his legs and set them on his shoulders. He felt strong hands on his hips, dragging him forward until his ass was practically hanging off the edge of the desk. He growled as he hooked his ankles together and bent his knees, bringing Kimblee's face closer to his own.

"I thought that I told you that we were doing this my way," he said menacingly.

Kimblee grinned. "We are doing this your way."

"Then fuck me, dammit!"

"Are you that eager for my cock in your ass?" Kimblee smirked, then pushed two fingers in Archer's mouth. "Suck on them."

Archer glared as he curled his tongue around Kimblee's fingers, wetting them. He watched Kimblee's other hand move down to his jeans, flick open the button, then push down the zipper.

Kimblee easily wiggled his hips, making the loose jeans fall to his ankles. He pulled his fingers out of Archer's mouth then teased his entrance with a spit-slicked digit. He slowly pushed it in, watching Archer's ever-changing expressions. Once he felt Archer relax a fraction, he carefully eased in a second finger while he slowly stroked the other man's cock.

Archer hissed and gripped the sides of the desk, trying to keep himself from bucking up into Kimblee's hand.

Kimblee smirked as he pushed in a third finger, then twisted his wrist. He watched Archer take shallow, shuddering breaths, then looked at his face, and moaned. Between Archer's flushed cheeks, lidded gaze, and barely-parted lips, Kimblee thought he was about to cream his pants on the spot. He twisted his wrist again as he pulled his fingers out, making Archer hiss a second time. When he let go of Archer's cock, he spit in his palm, slicking his own cock. Grasping it in his right hand, with Archer's hip in his left, he started to carefully press in.

"Holy fuck, you're tight," he moaned.

Archer hissed as he gripped the desk tighter, his knuckles white. "Slow... down," he growled, glaring at Kimblee.

Kimblee looked at him, moaning. "Let me just... UNH!"

He pushed the rest of the way in, leaned over Archer, and panted. Archer arched his back off the desk, and yelled.


He slowly rocked back and forth once he settled, panting.

He tried to keep himself from pulling back and slamming into Archer's tight ass. So instead he bit his lip and moaned while Archer slowly fucked himself on his cock. When Archer slid his hand down his own body and started stroking his cock, Kimblee lost the last bit of self-control that he possessed. He pulled back slowly before roughly pushed back into Archer, watching the other man's head fall back, keening as he stroked faster. He began thrusting harder as he watched Archer fist his own cock.

Archer moaned as he squeezed tighter around his cock. "Mmm," he moaned. "I'm gonna come..."

Kimblee hissed, holding tighter around Archer's hips. "Just a little..."

He thrust in deep one last time and froze, watching Archer spill his seed onto his belly, while Kimblee blew his load in his ass. He let Archer's legs fall from his shoulders and leaned forward, listening to the pale man's heart race.

After they sat for a few moments, gaining their breath, the bell on the loudspeaker sounded.

"Would Zolf Kimblee and Frank Archer please report to the principal's office."

Kimblee sighed softly, looking down at Archer. He smoothed his fingers over the still-sensitive skin of Archer's chest as he straightened.

"That's us," he said, extending a hand to help Archer off the desk.

Archer looked at Kimblee's hand with disgust then waved it away, opting instead to gingerly push himself off the desk.

"Why do you think," Kimblee started, as he pulled his pants up and readjusted his clothing.

Archer glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as he pulled his pants on. "I know as much as you do."

He finished dressing and patted his pants pockets for the key to the room.

He nodded when he felt it and walked to the door, Kimblee on his heels.

They walked to the office in silence; the only noise was their rustling clothes.

When they finally got there, Archer spoke with the secretary for a moment while Kimblee stood back, grinning as he watched the other man walk with a slight stiffness.

"Just sit right there," the woman behind the desk—who looked as if she was the secretary when the school was built over a hundred years ago—pointed to the thread-bare chairs in the waiting area, six feet away from her desk. "I'll go see why you were called in." She got up slowly from her chair, and walked to the back of the office until she was eventually out of sight.

Archer nodded, directing Kimblee to the chairs as if he couldn't have heard the woman despite being three feet away. He slowly eased himself into the thinly padded chair and winced when he fully sat down.

Watching for the secretary's return, Kimblee whispered, "Sore, much?"

Archer glared at Kimblee and growled low in his throat. "You try having a cock in your ass, then having to sit in these miserable excuses for chairs."

Kimblee stretched, sliding down his chair and causing some of the foam cushion to poke out of the seat. He glanced at Archer and stretched again, arching his back exaggeratedly, and yawning slightly as he parted his legs wide.

"You offering?"

Archer sat stunned, watching the lazy display of wanton sexuality beside him.

"Frank? Zolf?" The ancient woman slowly shuffled back to her desk and held out two pieces of paper, one of which had an envelope clipped to it. "For you, Mr. Frank," she said, holding the paper with the envelope toward Kimblee.

The dark-haired man pointed at Archer. "He's Frank," he said, smiling warmly at the old woman.

She nodded. "Yes, of course." She held the plain paper out to Kimblee, and handed the envelope to Archer.

Both glanced at their own piece of paper, noted schedule changes, and shrugged.

Archer opened the envelope and pulling out the letter inside. A look of horror distorted his features as he read further, until Kimblee tapped him on the shoulder, temporarily distracting him.

"Can I see your schedule for a second," Kimblee asked, holding his hand out expectantly.

Archer thrust the paper at him. "Yeah, whatever," he mumbled as he continued to read the letter, until Kimblee burst out laughing. He glared at the other man, who was leaning against the wall, breathless.

"What the hell is so funny," he grumbled, agitated.

Kimblee shook his head, unable to get a coherent word out, since he was laughing so hard.

"Give me those," Archer snapped as he snatched the papers out of Kimblee's hand When he finally took in the information on both papers and it registered that they were identical, apart from the name at the top, Archer fought the urge to fall to the floor as Kimblee had done. Instead, he staggered back to the over-used chairs and sank down, numbly staring at the papers he held.

When he noticed the shock on Archer's face, Kimblee quit laughing and watched him for a moment before speaking.

"You alright, Prep?"

Archer shook his head, chuckling humorlessly.

"Bradley adjusted our schedules himself and gave us the rest of the day off."

Kimblee grinned. "Sweet! Free day off!"

He boosted himself off the floor, took his schedule back from Archer, and walked out of the office, leaving the other man sitting there, still stunned.

The next morning, Kimblee walked to his classroom, sat at his usual desk, and flopped forward, resting his head on his arm. He lifted his head when he heard a light tapping on his desk, accompanied by the sickeningly slick voice of his Economics teacher.

"Mr. Kimblee, you're not in this class anymore."

Kimblee looked at him blearily, still half asleep. "Oh, right. Sorry about that, Yoki." He gathered his textbook and binder as he slowly stood up, pulling his schedule out of his back pocket as he walked out of the room and heard his teacher squeal.

"That's Mr. Yoki!"

Kimblee raised a hand in acknowledgement, glancing at his schedule to figure out where he was supposed to be. He groaned when the name on his schedule clicked.

"Shit," he murmured under his breath. "Fuckin' Tucker's class."

He slowly ambled along to his anatomy class, not worried about being late since his teacher didn't really pay attention to his students, choosing instead to lecture about parts of the human body for the allotted time.

Kimblee slowly pushed open the door to the classroom and spotted Archer, sitting by himself near the front of the room. As he sat in the stool next to Archer, he saw the other man slide his books to the other side of the table, but didn't pay it any mind as he opened his binder and started taking notes. He gently bumped Archer's leg with his knee while he was wiggling on his stool, trying to get comfortable.

Archer glared at him before quickly returning to his own notes.

During a lull in the lecture, Kimblee switched his pen to his left hand and brushed the fingers of his right hand against Archer's thigh. Archer raised an eyebrow, saying nothing while focusing on the teacher, who was starting to lecture again.

Kimblee lightly rested his hand on Archer's leg, only to have the other man quickly brush it off. He smirked as he replaced his hand, then raked his short nails up the inside of Archer's thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.

Archer frowned, glaring at Kimblee out of the corner of his eye. He watched the other man smirk and rest his chin in his palm while his other hand slid up and cupped his crotch squeezing gently.

Archer hissed. "Did you just sit here so you could molest me?"

Kimblee grinned wider. "This was the seat closest to the door and it just happened to be next to you," he murmured, emphasizing his last word with another gentle squeeze and grinning wider as he felt Archer grow hard under his hand. He curled his hand around Archer's arousal, awkwardly sliding the palm of his hand along the length.

Archer looked at Kimblee with wide, surprised eyes as he clamped a hand over his mouth, stifling a moan. Kimblee smirked again, then returned his attention to the teacher while he quickly slid his hand along the bulge in Archer's pants, enjoying the small gasps the other man involuntarily let out.

One final gasp, then Archer slightly curled forward as he came. Panting slightly, he looked over at Kimblee and growled.

"I could fucking kill you," he whispered as he leaned forward. He adjusted his pants, pulling them lower on his hips in an attempt to get the sticky wetness away from his skin. He rested his forehead on his arm as he leaned forward onto the desk, frowning the whole time, and stayed that way until the bell rang. He quickly grabbed his books and rushed out the door, making a beeline for the restroom, where he locked himself in a stall.

He heard the heavy door creak open, then a very familiar, and unwanted voice called out to him.

"You in here, Prep?"

Archer groaned as he heard footsteps come toward his stall, then looked down, and saw Kimblee's boots in front of the door.

"What the fuck do you want, Kimblee," he grumbled as he pulled his pants down, wanting to clean up the mess, and get out of there, away from Kimblee, as quickly as possible.

"I didn't want anything, except to make sure that you aren't trying to drown yourself in the toilet, or something."

Archer frowned with disgust as he scooped cum out of his underwear with toilet paper and tossed the used tissue into the toilet. He flushed, then pulled his pants up as he opened the stall door and saw Kimblee leaning against the wall, right in front of him.

"You're the last person I thought would be worried about my well being." Archer crossed his arms with irritation clearly written across his features.

"What?" Kimblee raised his hands in confusion. "I'm not allowed to check up on a friend?"

"Where the fuck do you get off referring to me as your 'friend'?" Archer bellowed.

"We aren't?" Kimblee shrugged. "I thought we were close."

"Stay the fuck away from me," Archer growled as he gathered his books and stormed out of the restroom. Kimblee shrugged again, following Archer to their next class

Peering in the door and looking for a free seat, Kimblee saw that Archer has holed himself up in a corner with no empty desks close by. He slid into a desk on the other side of the room and took sparse notes while listening to his English teacher, waiting for the bell to ring for lunch. When it finally did ring, he dumped his books in his locker and headed outside to the courtyard at the center of the school. Sitting against the base of his favorite oak tree, Kimblee settled down for a nap during lunch.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket forty minutes later, signaling the end of lunch. He slowly stood up, then stretched and yawned as he walked toward the back of the school

Walking by the photography lab—which constantly smelled of fixer—he ambled into the metal shop classroom. Consulting his schedule before he sat in his usual desk, Kimblee grinned to himself as he saw Archer walk in the door and take a seat at the front of the room, looking completely out of his element.

Pulling the hair tie from around his loose ponytail, he swept his wispy bangs back and pulled his hair into a messy bun, then slid low in his seat, waiting for the teacher to arrive.

A small woman with hair pulled into a tight bun walked in the room and slammed the door.

"Alright, sit down and shut the fuck up," she said to the already quiet classroom.

Handing a stack of papers to Archer, she told him, "Pass these... Who the fuck are you?"

"He..." Kimblee started.

"Shut up, Kimblee." Turning back to Archer, she said to the obviously-rattled boy, "Let me see your schedule."

He quickly nodded, then searched frantically through his binder. He shakily handed it to her, watching his new teacher glance at it, then thrust the paper back into his hands.

"Alright, you'll work with Kimblee."

When Archer started to sit back down, she said, "I still need you to pass those out."

Archer nodded again. "Yes, of course, Ms. Rockbell."

He quickly passed the papers to the other people in the front of the rows, then sat back at his desk. Looking down at the plans for the metal tape dispenser, he frowned, not understanding the instructions on the paper. He looked back up when a set of knuckles tapped on his desk.

"Go sit by Kimblee, he'll get you up to speed."

Frowning deeply, he quickly did as he was told.

While she went over the simple plans, Kimblee yanked Archer's desk over so it butted against his own and pointed at each item whenever Ms. Rockbell mentioned it. Whenever Archer would look confused, Kimblee would write down a quick explanation of the term he figured was most perplexing.

"Get outta here and start picking your materials," Ms. Rockbell yelled when she finished explaining. "Except for you two." She pointed at Archer and Kimblee.

The latter simply rolled his eyes and sunk lower in his chair, yawning loudly, while the former watched the foul-mouthed teacher approach their desks.

"Pay attention, asshole," she said as she kicked the leg of Kimblee's desk for emphasis. "You two are going to work together on this and will get the same grade for it."

With his jaw almost on the floor, Archer quietly spoke up. "Do I... have to work with him?"

"Yeah, you do. Believe it or not, this asshole is at the top of the class."

Kimblee scowled. "Who are you calling 'asshole,' old lady?"

Pinako kicked his leg, which was sticking far out from under the desk. "Shut up, you twerp. Now, go get to work."

Archer nodded, stood up, then moved his desk back to where it belonged, letting Kimblee out.

Walking back to the large warehouse-type area that housed all of the tools and materials, Kimblee took a deep breath and smiled softly to himself. He walked over to the large scrap pile, picked up the materials for the tape dispenser, and set everything on a table in the back of the work room. He then handed Archer a thick permanent marker.

"What do you want me to do with this," Archer asked, looking at the marker, then up at Kimblee.

"Trace the pattern onto the metal so we can cut it out," Kimblee instructed.

Archer nodded and leaned on the table, carefully drawing the patter of the tape dispenser. When he straightened and looked at Kimblee, he saw the other man smiling widely.

"What are you grinning like an idiot for," Archer asked warily.

"Hmm?" Kimblee raised an eyebrow. "Oh, nothing. I was just a little excited since you trace patterns better than I do."

Archer was baffled. "How can you screw up tracing a pattern?"

"By being an idiot, that's how," Pinako said as she approached their table. Looking at the metal, she nodded. "Looks good so far. Keep going," she said, lightly knocking on the table as she walked away.

Kimblee walked over to the supply closet, found what he needed, and waved Archer over.

"These are air shears," he said as he picked up a silver gun-shaped object that sloped at the front and had a small blade poking out of the middle of the slope. He pointed at an air compressor at the bottom of the closet. "It's bigger than what we need, but can you grab that?" he asked as he picked up two pairs of safety glasses.

Archer raised an eyebrow at Kimblee, then flicked his eyes over to the glasses, causing Kimblee to chuckle.

"Yeah, I know they're ugly as shit but the air shears throw up little flecks of metal and you don't want that shit in your eye. It's why Havoc wore an eye patch last semester."

Archer raised an eyebrow, taking the glasses. "Huh. I heard that he got come in his eye."

Kimblee chuckled mirthlessly as he walked back to the workbench. "Nah, that's just what he kept telling people, but I was right beside him when it happened. Plus, if he got come in his eye, that means that he would be getting laid, and we all know that that's not happening."

Stopping the compressor in front of their table, Archer snorted. "Unless it was his own," he said as he bent down, looking for a socket to plug the compressor into.

Kimblee laughed as he looked over at Archer, trying to figure out what the other man was doing, then got distracted by the line of Archer's back, leading down to the curve of his muscled ass.

Archer turned quickly, bumping his head on the underside of the table and glaring at Kimblee. "Get your hand off my ass."

Kimblee tilted his head in confusion, then tightened his hand and felt flesh. Looking down, he grinned, then squeezed again.

With furrowed eyebrows and grinding teeth, Archer stood back up and pushed Kimblee's hand off.

"Must you molest me every chance you get," he softly growled.

Kimblee glanced around the room, making sure no one was paying attention, then wound his arm around Archer's waist and pulled him close. Grinding their hips together, he whispered into Archer's ear.

"I want you to fuck me like the dirty slut I am."

Archer gasped, pushing his hips against Kimblee's. "Fuck," he hissed, then slowly pulled away and leaned his hip against the table. Thinking for a moment, he said, "Did you drive?"

Kimblee shook his head, then squatted down so he could plug in the air compressor and hide his obvious erection. "I walked today," he said hoarsely.

"Good," Archer said as he looked past Kimblee at the opposite wall. "Meet me at my car after school's over."

Kimblee looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Are you in the east lot, or in the west one?"

"West," Archer said, turning toward the table.

They worked together for the rest of the class period in silence, only speaking when it was absolutely necessary.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, they split up. Archer, going straight to his car, and Kimblee going to his locker to get the books that he would need that evening for homework.

When he finally got to the west lot, Kimblee looked around for a moment and saw an older-model Toyota Corolla idling with Archer behind the wheel, looking uneasy. He tapped on the window as he got up beside the car and saw Archer jump slightly before he leaned over and unlocked the door. As he slid in, he looked at the other man who was nervously tapping the wheel and looking everywhere but at Kimblee.

"Hey," Kimblee said softly.

"What," Archer replied quickly, whipping around to look at his passenger.

"We can just go to my house, if you want."

"What about your parents?"

"I live by myself. Take a left out of the lot," Kimblee told him, changing the subject quickly.

Archer raised an eyebrow as he shifted the car into drive, then took a left out of the parking lot, as instructed.

"Uhh, if you don't mind my asking, why do you live by yourself," Archer asked as he kept his eyes forward, focusing on the road. When he didn't get an answer immediately, he spared a glance at Kimblee and saw that he had fallen asleep, leaning against the car window. When he fully stopped at the red light, he looked back over, studying the other man. Drinking in Kimblee's sharp features, Archer came to a fast realization.

"I want to fuck him," he whispered to himself.

Jolted out of his reverie by a car horn behind him, Archer slammed on the gas pedal, throwing them forward and waking Kimblee up.

"Take a right at the light," he mumbled sleepily.

They drove in silence, Archer trying to come to grips with his epiphany, and Kimblee struggling to stay awake.

"Take another right at that turn lane after the light," Kimblee murmured.

Archer nodded, throwing on his blinker.

While they were sitting in the driveway, still in the car, Archer looked over at Kimblee. "Do you always fall asleep when you're in a car?"

Kimblee shook his head. "I usually drive, so I wouldn't know."

A few minutes of awkward silence passed, until Kimblee spoke up again.

"Do you want to come inside?"

"Sit wherever you want, I'm getting myself something to drink. Want anything?" Kimblee asked as he showed Archer into the living room.

Waving his hand in dismissal, Archer continued looking at the internal architecture of the house. He was reaching hesitantly toward the decorative carvings on an in-wall bookcase when Kimblee came back, startling him.

"Nice woodwork, isn't it?" the taller man asked as he pushed a glass tumbler into Archer's hand.

"What the hell is in this?" Archer sputtered after taking a sip.

"Coke," Kimblee replied, slowly sipping at his own drink.

Archer looked at him over the rim of his glass, disbelieving, as he took another generous sip. As he leaned over to set the half-empty glass on a nearby table, he saw a coaster fly towards him. He caught the small piece of cork and set it under his glass before turning back to Kimblee.

"What's your deal? How can you... Where are your parents? Not that it isn't..."

"Shh," Kimblee whispered into Archer's ear as he snaked his arms around his hips, resting his hands over the other man's belt buckle. Hearing no protests, he unbuckled the belt, then pulled it through all of the belt loops in one smooth motion.

Archer turned in Kimblee's arms and reached up, gently touching the other man's cheek before sliding his hand back and grabbing Kimblee's dark pony tail, tugging on it firmly.

Kimblee moaned loudly as he tilted his head back, exposing his throat to the pale man in front of him.

Leaning forward, Archer licked a slow trail up Kimblee's throat, then nipped at the other man's earlobe.

"Where do you want to do this," he whispered huskily.

"My... room..." Kimblee panted.

Archer nodded, rubbing his nose against Kimblee's jaw as he licked and bit his way down to his collarbone.

Kimblee reached down, pushing his hand under the waistband of Archer's pants and squeezing his obvious erection, causing Archer to bite down harder on his shoulder, moaning.

"Come on," Kimblee whispered, his lips grazing against Archer's jaw. He pulled his hand out of Archer's pants, while Archer relaxed the grip on his hair. He slid away, slowly stripping off his his shirt, tossing it aside as he led Archer to his bedroom. He toed off his boots before he began quickly climbing the stairs. Pausing at the top, he turned around to look at Archer, as he unbuttoned his jeans, then pushed them off his slim hips. Turning his back to Archer, he slowly walked toward his room at the other end of the long hallway and quickly pulled his socks off as he walked.

Pushing open the door to his darkened bedroom, Kimblee slid down his boxer-briefs, fully exposing himself to Archer. He walked backwards until he felt his calves press against his low mattress. Reaching forward, he grabbed the front of Archer's shirt, pulling him close. He started to slowly unbutton his shirt until the pale man swatted his hands away.

"I'll get it," he whispered as he tugged the shirt over his head, tossing it across the room. He quickly pushed off his pants and shoes at the same time, then pushed Kimblee backward onto the bed before climbing on top of him.

Unsure of what he was supposed to do next, Archer continued nipping at licking at Kimblee's neck until he felt the other man's hands moving down his back, then stopping when he came to his ass. Feeling self-conscious about his choice of undergarments, he blushed and buried his head in the crook of Kimblee's neck.

Kimblee squeezed Archer's ass, then started to push the lace panties down.

"Mmm, fuck," he moaned as he ground his hips up into Archer's.

Fumbling around fruitlessly, Kimblee tried to unhook the garters so he could pull off Archer's panties, but to no avail.

Getting fed up with Kimblee's floundering fingers, Archer swatter his hands out of the way as he sat up.

"Can you turn on a light," he mumbled as he unclipped one of the stockings.

"Sure," Kimblee said.

Archer felt the bed shift, then heard soft footsteps until he was blinded by the sudden light. He groaned when he saw the silk fasteners had gotten twisted. He leaned down and pulled the stocking up higher, taking the pressure off the thin band of twisted silk. Easily unhooking the last clip, he pushed down the lace panties, then started to roll down the stockings.

"No, leave them on," he heard Kimblee hoarsely whisper.

When he looked over at the other man, he saw Kimblee slowly stroking his cock while watching Archer's every move. He propped his foot up on the end of the bed, rolled the stocking back up, and clipped it back to the garter. After he finished re-clipping the stocking on the other leg, he turned back to Kimblee, who was starting to walk back toward the bed, his hand still on his cock.

"Can you uhh... turn the lights back off," Archer said quietly, looking down at the mattress.

Kimblee nodded, turning back around and flipping the switch. He carefully walked back to the bed and laid down in front of Archer with his legs spread wide. When Archer didn't move, he sat up and grabbed his wrist, pulling him back on the bed.

"I want you to fuck me so hard," he whispered as he gave Archer's cock a gentle squeeze.

Archer hissed as he rocked his hips forward, relishing the contact.

Kimblee reached behind his head, slapping his bed until he felt the large, squishy bottle he was looking for. He squeezed some of the gel out onto his fingers before handing it to Archer. Rubbing the thick lubricant evenly onto the fingers of both hands, he started to stroke his cock again as he slowly pushed a finger inside himself.

Since his eyes had adjusted to the dark, Archer watched the lewd display in front of him and started to wrap his hand around his own cock when he saw the other man push in a second finger, then immediately after, a third. When he started to rock forward into his hand, he felt it pushed away, then Kimblee's hand wrapped around his cock, slicking it.

"Come forward a little," Kimblee said softly. When Archer's cock was right above his own, Kimblee lifted his hips, wrapping his legs around Archer's waist.

"Just push forward," Kimblee panted.

Slowly pressing inside Kimblee, Archer groaned low in his throat. Once he was fully in, he paused to give himself and Kimblee a moment to adjust. Slowly pulling back out, he hissed as Kimblee dug his heels into his back.

"Mmm... fuck, harder," Kimblee whispered.

Archer yelled as he slammed back inside. Keeping up his quick pace, he leaned down and bit at Kimblee's shoulder.

"Fuck, I'm not gonna last," Archer moaned.

"Doesn't matter," Kimblee panted, lifting his hips in time with Archer's thrusts. "I won't either." He slid his hand in between their bodies and started to quickly fist his cock.

"Fuck, I'm gonna..." Archer started to pull out of Kimblee.

"No, I want you to come in my ass," Kimblee wailed, tightening his legs around Archer's waist. He started stroking his cock even faster, arching his back and yelling as he came on both of them.

Feeling Kimblee clenching around him, Archer broke, burying himself inside the other man. Yelling incoherently, all of his muscles contracted upon release.

When he finally relaxed, he flopped forward onto Kimblee and heard the breath woosh out of the other man. He slowly pushed himself off Kimblee, then rolled over onto his back.

After regaining his breath, Archer finally asked what he had been wondering since they left school that afternoon.

"Are you here by yourself?"

Kimblee slowly nodded.


"Why do you care? You think that because you fucked me you need to know my life story?!"

Archer looked at Kimblee, startled at the sudden outburst. "No," he said calmly. "I'm asking out of concern as..." He paused, looking for the right word.

"As a friend."

Kimblee laughed mirthlessly. "We're not friends! You said so yourself!"

"Ignore everything I said yesterday. I truly do want to be your friend."

Kimblee snorted. "You want to be my friend? Fine. You want to know why I'm by myself?" He sat up, then climbed off the bed, standing in front of his curtained window, his back to Archer.

"I'm here, by my fucking self, because..." He stopped, calming himself, before continuing in a cold monotone.

"My mother got knocked up by some loser when she was twenty-two and didn't want to have to be bothered with a baby, so she brought me here to live with my grandmother. She raised me until I was sixteen, then she died. She willed me everything and my mother didn't get a dime, which pissed her off so much that she didn't bother to show up for the funeral. The house and the cars are paid off and all of the other bills are paid through a lawyer out of my trust fund as long as my grades stay up and I don't get expelled."

He stopped, taking long, shuddering breaths.

"How can you stay like this," Archer asked, horrified.

"Are you kidding?!" Kimblee turned, wide-eyed, with a manic grin on his face. "This," he said a little too loudly as he flung his arms out, gesturing to his surroundings. "Is every teenager's dream! No parents, no bills, no responsibilities, no worries!"

He sank to the floor, crossing his legs in front of himself.

"It gets lonely," he said softly, to himself.

They sat in silence, Archer not daring to move, or even breathe too loudly.

Kimblee finally stood up and stretched. He walked out to the dark hallway, turned on a light in a room and quietly closed the door.

Archer sighed to himself before getting off the bed and tapping on the door that Kimblee was behind.

"What," Kimblee called out, sounding slightly annoyed.

Archer leaned against the opposite wall, waiting for Kimblee to emerge.

"Are you alright?" he asked loud enough to be heard through the wooden door.

"Yeah," Kimblee said as he opened the door and walked out of the bathroom. "I just had to take a piss."

Archer burst out laughing, then looked at Kimblee, who was frowning. He raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.

"Ugh," Kimblee grunted. "I'm going to get a shower. Do you want to take one?"

Archer ran a hand through his hair, already knowing he wanted a shower. Nodding, he said, "Yeah, but I don't have any extra clothes."

Kimblee chuckled. "No worries. We're about the same size. You can wear some of my sweats."

Archer nodded, following Kimblee back into his bedroom. Watching the play of the muscles in Kimblee's back and legs, he zoned out what the other man was saying. A pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt were dropped and he looked up, straight at Kimblee's crotch.


Kimblee snorted. "You can use the shower in that bathroom." He pointed to the hallway. "I'll use the one downstairs and make dinner afterward."

Archer nodded again, slightly dazed as he walked to the shower

Walking back downstairs, he smelled bacon frying and made his way to the kitchen, laughing when he saw Kimblee standing in front of the stove with his hair tied up.

"What?" Kimblee turned, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," he chuckled. "I just wasn't expecting to see you actually cooking."

Kimblee turned back to the stove and looked at Archer out of the corner of his eye.

"Is it a problem?"

"No, not at all. I was getting hungry," Archer said as he sat at the table across the kitchen.

"Hey," Kimblee said as he poured some pancake batter into a skillet. "You wanna stay here tonight?"

"Uhh..." Archer hesitated.

"I'll sleep on the couch and you can sleep on my bed."

"You don't have to do that."

"Well, I'd put you in a guest room, but they haven't been opened in at least two years," Kimblee mumbled, flipping a pancake.

"Yeah, okay, let me call my parents," Archer said, standing up. "I'll be right back, my phone's in the car."

Kimblee nodded distractedly, flipping a pancake

After they ate, Archer helped Kimblee clean up the kitchen. Afterwards, they went and sat in the living room. Kimblee flopped down on the couch beside Archer, then lightly elbowed him.

"Hey, do you think you could brush my hair? My grandma used to do it every night and then tell me that I needed a haircut."

Archer laughed. "Yes, I will brush your hair. Do you want me to braid it too," he asked sarcastically.

"Don't be a dick," Kimblee said, rolling his eyes as he stood up, walking to the downstairs bathroom.

Returning quickly with a shit-eating grin on his face, Kimblee handed the brush to Archer and sat between his knees, pressing his back against the couch.

"Have you done this before? You're really good," Kimblee practically purred.

"Yeah, my little sister begs me to all the time," Archer said quietly as he brushed Kimblee's hair with long, smooth strokes.

"I've been wondering," Archer started.

"What's that?"

"Why do you refuse to be addressed by your first name?"

Kimblee chuckled humorlessly. "It's left over from my resentment towards my mother. She used to call me 'Little Zolfy' whenever she would visit and it just pissed me the fuck off. So, I get everyone to call me 'Kimblee' instead."

"Makes sense." Archer slid the brush over Kimblee's shoulder, letting it fall into his lap.

"Here. If I brush your damn hair anymore, my arm's gonna fall off."

"Thanks," Kimblee said as he picked up the brush and stood up.

He sat back down on the couch and started fingering the fabric of Archer's sweatpants as he started to say meaningless things, then leaned over and trailed soft kisses down his neck.

"You know I've had an interest in you for a while," he murmured against Archer's throat.

Archer looked down at Kimblee, horrified. He pushed the other man off his lap, dumping him off the couch and onto the floor, then stood up and began pacing.

"Is that why you blew up the fucking toilet?!"

Perturbed, but not off-put, Kimblee looked up at Archer, lusty aggravation in his eyes.


"So, you defaced school property to get into my pants," Archer yelled, gesticulating wildly.

"Would it hurt your feelings if I said yes?" Kimblee asked flatly.

"No... just... why the fuck would you do something like that?!"

"I needed a good way to get your attention and I knew that Bradley would send me to you."

"You scheming fucker," Archer grumbled, walking toward the door.

"Hey, hey, hey," Kimblee said, hopping up and running over to Archer, catching his shoulder.

"Look, look. Don't go." He wrapped his arms around Archer's waist, stilling the other man.

"I like you as a person, as a human being, not just as some random fuck buddy," he murmured into Archer's hair. "Don't go."

"What do you mean, you like me as a person," Archer asked coldly.

Kimblee lifted his head and rolled his eyes.

"Don't make me get all sappy and say it."

Archer took a step forward, dragging Kimblee behind him.

"Fiiine," Kimblee groaned.

"I'll get sappy, I'll say it. Iwantyoutobemyboyfriend.

Archer didn't move, he didn't breathe, he didn't speak for a while after Kimblee's confession. Then, he slowly turned in Kimblee's tight grasp and looked closely at the forlorn-looking man in front of him. He lifted Kimblee's chin and looked deep into his eyes, searching for any hint that he was joking. Finding none, he leaned forward and gently kissed him.

Kimblee froze, stunned, then kissed him back; their chaste kiss quickly gaining heat.

When they broke for air, Archer rested his forehead on Kimblee's shoulder.

"I don't know if this will work," he said quietly.

"How? With your parents? Or school?"


"Don't. If those jackasses Mustang and Hughes can get away with it, why can't we?" He sighed. "As for your parents, that's your call."

"I just..." Archer sighed.

"I understand," Kimblee said, running his fingers through the other man's short hair.

"But, let's not worry about it right now, okay? It's Friday, we have plenty of time to figure something out."

Archer nodded into Kimblee's shoulder, then yawned.

"Come on," Kimblee said, releasing Archer's waist and taking his hand.

"Let's go to bed."

"Alright," Archer said, yawning again. "But you're sleeping on the couch, like you promised."