A/N: I was watching My Name is Earl, and there was an episode (Gangs of Camden County) where two prison gangleaders were in love. However, being in prison, they didn't want anyone to know that they were gay. So, whenever they got in the mood, they would have their gangs fight each other, and make out in the dirt while all the other guys were fighting in the dirty. Of course I thought of these two…

You can always tell when he bullies you because he wants you. He doesn't always--sometimes he bullies you because he has a reputation to uphold. You can accept that. More often than not, though, he's only looking for an excuse to touch you.

It starts with the look. The other jocks studiously avoid you so as not to tip you off, but he doesn't. The second you exit the car, his eyes are on you. As soon as you notice him, his eyes drop to your crotch or your ass. You roll your eyes in an exaggerated annoyance, and his gaze meets yours again, accompanied by a cocky smirk that makes your heart skip a beat every time.

When the group reaches you, he puts his warm hands on your shoulders and asks, "How're you doing, Hummel?" in a show of pseudo pseudo-friendship. The jocks laugh.

"Puckerman," you say. Your voice is impassive. He squeezes your shoulders, thumb brushing at the spots of your neck that always tense up. Then he lets go.

If there is a teacher in sight, even a teacher facing the opposite direction, he insists on waiting until they've passed. He slings his arm around you for cover. His friends are stupid. They don't notice his hand stroking your elbow, or the way he draws you close enough to feel your body heat. Sometimes you lean on him, subtly, to see if you can make him lose his composure a little bit. He never does--you both play this game too well--but he likes it when you challenge him. It usually leads to a make-out session in your car after school, before you go home together.

You've developed a sort of code between you, depending on what kind of mood he's in. If he takes off your jacket, then he'll be more centered on your pleasures. He has nothing particular in mind, and you get to choose. Sometimes, he has something very particular, and that something involves you getting off. For such a butch guy, he is fairly eager to blow you. You spend those days in a state of eager anticipation, and the day is even better because your jacket doesn't smell.

If he just tosses you in, then he's in charge. He wants to manhandle you, and hell if you're going to refuse. You're never quite as anxious to get home on those days, but, if you're being honest, the sex is almost better. You have a naturally dominant personality, which makes you the perfect submissive. You actually like giving up that power, as long as he understands it won't last. And he does understand. As rough as he can get, he really is a sweet boyfriend, and he always cuddles with you very gently afterwards. He will never admit that, but he does.

When you get thrown in the dumpster, he is always the one holding you by the arms. He says it's because there's nothing sexy about your feet, and he likes the way your mouth looks when you pretend to purse your lips in annoyance. Once, when he was coming down from the post-sex high, he confessed the real reason: from that position, it looks like the person holding your arms is about to kiss you or fuck you, and he doesn't like thinking of you with other guys. That was before your relationship became official, and you found his jealousy intensely erotic. Your dad had fallen asleep at the TV hours before, so he didn't check to make sure the two of you weren't doing anything inappropriate. You were up most of the night. You had sex four more times, and in the morning he asked you if you would maybe want to be his boyfriend, or whatever. To this day, you still think he was just delusional from all the orgasms, but you weren't going to refuse.

You always think of that night when he tosses you in. He does too; otherwise, the fun might wear out of this, and it's really fun. Sometimes, if he thinks he can get away with it, he kisses you as he tosses you in. He doesn't do it often, because it takes skill--a quick peck on the cheek as his body twists, right as you tumble over the edge of the dumpster. Whether he takes your jacket or not, those days are always the best.

This will probably stop someday. You will get sick of being thrown in the trash, or he will get sick of throwing you. Maybe by then he'll be ready to come out to his mom, and then the rest of the school. That will be nice, although you'll probably miss pulling one over on the football idiots. You aren't pushing him. You were in the closet knowingly for eleven years. He's only been aware that he was interested in boys for about eleven months. It will happen someday, and you're going to love it.

But, until then, you just enjoy his smirk, and his hands, and the tickle of his breath against your ear, and the brush of lips on your cheek. As his hand draws away from you, leaving you in the dumpster, he strokes your arm, and you know that he enjoys it too.