"Listen, we have to do this in order to survive..." Wade shifts nervously from one foot to another, talking in a hushed voice to an irritated Ryan and an anxious Emmit. "Every day after school we get mercilessly harassed and I'm fed up with it, this is the only option we have right now."

Emmit furrows his eyebrows, rolling up onto his tip-toes for better whispering access, "I can easily do this, my last class is the most mediocre of the day, I should be able to slip away undetected. But, what happens after today? I don't think we can get away with skipping our classes on a continuing basis."

"Wade, we can't both dodge seventh period, we share that class. C'mon, teachers are dumb, but they aren't that dumb." Ryan huffs, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Please just work with me on this, we'll stick with the classic bathroom trick. Ryan, you can ask to be excused with the extremely urgent need to use the restroom. I'll wait five minutes, claim to be sick or something, and the three of us will meet at the west side of the school with just enough time to sneak away before everyone gets let out for the day. No one is ever out there, we'll be fine." Wade takes a deep breath before continuing, "Hopefully this will give us a enough of a head start to avoid Filkins."

"Yeah, but like Emmit said, we can't do this shit all of the time. It might work today, but what about tomorrow? What's your plan then, Mr. Genius?" Ryan progressively raises his voice, nearly yelling as the class bell rings loudly above their heads.

The three of them speed-walk towards their last class, Wade in the lead, "I have a couple of ideas, but we'll have to discuss them tonight. Just hang in there with me guys. We'll meet up in about 45 minutes, okay?"

--

The West side of McKinley High hides a long-since forgotten parking lot, unused since the expansion of the school. The yellow paint lines marking individual parking spaces have faded over the years in the sun, beaten and worn away by the rain, wind and ice. Cigarette butts and broken pieces of glass fill the cracks and breaks in the rough pavement, shining like costume jewelry in the bright sun. In the far corner at the back of the lot sits a souped-up car, the paint a glossy charcoal black, the dull distant thump of rock music lacing itself into the soft breeze. A huge tree towers above the car, casting long afternoon shadows over the occupants, dropping its delicate colorful fall leaves onto the windshield.

Filkins lounges in the drivers seat, his legs stretching over Ronnie's lap, and out the passenger side window. Boots crossed at the ankle, barely protruding from the car, the buckles catch the light in between the crisscrossed shadows from the tree branches. Ronnie mindlessly massages the calf muscles on Filkins legs, rubbing his fingers roughly into the dark blue-jean material. He stares lazily out the window, rotating his thumbs in tight little circles. Filkins lets out a little sigh and closes his eyes, ignoring the faint ringing of the class bell. Relaxing all of his muscles, he lets Ronnie sneak his fingertips higher and higher up his body, and smirks at the fumbling hesitation when those nervous fingertips latch onto the top button of his jeans.

Ronnie waits for approval, knowing how dangerous Filkins can be when he feels like he's losing domination, losing leadership. Fidgeting the brass colored button, in-out-in-out, until Filkins grabs both of his wrists, arching his hips up into Ronnie's hands. A flash of rebellion comes over Ronnie as he abandons the lone button, instead running his hands up under Filkins shirt, letting his fingers graze over smooth bare back skin, before finally digging his fingernails into Filkins shoulder blades, pressing their bodies together as he adjusts himself nearly into a straddling position, leaning in to dare a kiss.

Filkins tenses his body, alarmed by the sudden movement he instinctually tries to pull away from Ronnie, but he holds him firmly in place. Filkins' fists roll into tight little balls, knuckles gone white, until he feels Ronnie's hot breath on his lips. He relaxes a little, staring ice blue daggers up at Ronnie. Daring him to cross a line, testing him.

Ronnie runs his tongue along Filkins bottom lip, waiting for him to make the next move. A cat and mouse game of leader and follower, of willpower and dominance. Filkins bites onto Ronnie's tongue, sucking it into a kiss, messy and desperate. The taste of weak beer and sweat swap between their mouths, exploring like it's their first time. Filkins kicks the volume knob on the stereo to max, the ear-bleeding, car-thumping music drowning out his helpless groans as Ronnie makes his way down his neck, biting, licking and chewing.

Ronnie returns to the waist of Filkins' jeans, un-buttons, unzips, overzealously revealing an impossibly hard cock. He traces bulging throbbing veins with his tongue, teases as long as possible, before taking the head warmly into his mouth. Ronnie sucks slowly at first, working up his speed to eventually match the heart-attack rhythm of the music, loving the feeling of power he gets from Filkins losing his control and letting him take over.

Filkins tangles his fingers tightly into Ronnie's thick hair, pulling, just to be able to have something to do with his hands rather than as guidance. His eyes roll into the back of his head, his groans approach screaming level as Ronnie's head bobs up and down at an aching speed. Filkins moves his hips in an attempt to match Ronnie's pace as his orgasm quickly approaches, the pounding of the music vibrating through his body.

"WHAT THE FU...!" Ryan manages to yell before Wade simultaneously slaps his hand over Ryan's mouth, and Emmit's eyes. They stand shoulder-to-shoulder, all three frozen stiff as they remain halted only a few feet away from jet black car of their nightmares, a new kind of fear rising in their spines. Ushering the two of them, Wade waddles awkwardly in between Ryan and Emmit as if locked into a strange conga line. Waiting until they are nearly to the next neighborhood over, Wade finally releases his death grip from Ryan and Emmit. Ryan explodes into a rocket of obscenities, while Emmit stares into the distance as if in a trance. "Wade, we have to go back, can you imagine the kind of blackmail power we'll get out of this? This is the answer to our prayers and I'm not passing it up!" Ryan trails off as he marches back into the direction of the car, flipping open his camera phone to catch the evidence. Chasing after him, Wade protests, "Yeah, and can you imagine how dead we would be if you do that? Our parents wouldn't even find our bodies because we'd be pureed by Filkins' samurai sword into stew and fed to his dogs!" Ryan stops in his tracks and turns to face Wade, pointing somewhere over his shoulder, "Hey, is he going to be alright?" The two of them stare into the direction of Emmit, his eyes glazed over, mouth hanging slightly open. Wade waggles his fingers in front of Emmit's face, the two of them waiting for a sign of life. "Guys, we have to go back to school. We have to leave like we usually do or they'll suspect that we saw them." Wade and Ryan follow Emmit's lead as the trio break into a run towards the school as the final bell of the day rings freedom for the school kids.

--

Filkins cums hotly into Ronnie's eager swallowing mouth, the world spins as he feels Ronnie disengaging his cock and climbing back up his body, placing wet lips over his, welcoming a final sloppy kiss as the last bell of the day rings, almost as if to say "time up" to them.

Ronnie slides back into his shotgun position, grinning wildly, overly pleased with himself. Filkins straightens his clothing, zipping his jeans and re-gaining his composure. "We gotta go. Can't let those twerps think we've forgotten about them can we?" Filkins flashes Ronnie a devious grin and shifts the car into drive, speeding towards the front of the school, just in time to see Ryan, Wade, and Emmit exiting the building, staring at them with wider eyes than usual.