Requested by Kuruke_Katsuya and Starrblade1221. Write 'smutty' at the end of a request for smut, 'kinky' if you want kinky (that's my favourite =^.~=), etc. It just makes easier to please you guys *le inuendo*.
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*Vics POV*
I saunter into History 10 minutes late, sling my bag on the desk and slump lazily into my chair.
"Mr Fuentes, why are you late to my class, again?" Mrs Constant-PMS barks in my face.
"My alarm broke, Miss." I grumble. I honestly can't be arsed with her shit today!
"If you're late one more time, I'll have to report you." She said that last time as well. I know she doesn't mean it; its an empty threat. She's just like every other teacher in this God-forsaken place. Cranky, old and probably hasn't got laid in the past 30 years.
Halfway through the lesson, I find myself drifting off. I'm almost asleep when a book slams on my desk and I jolt upright.
"Detention after school for falling asleep in class!" Oh for crying out loud! Its not really surprising though, my brother, Mike, and I have been hated since the day we came here.
A year ago, we came to America from our home in Mexico as exchange students. All the teachers hated us, as did all our classmates. Our parents then got jobs over here, much to our dismay, and we had to make permanent residence. While everyone hated us, there was one person who, for some wild and unknown reason, couldn't even stand to be in a room with me; Kellin Bostwick. I wish he did like me, though. He's the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen, yet he holds in his heart a pure, unadulterated hatred for me. Not Mike, nor anyone else for that matter. I am the one person he detests. He is the one person I love unconditionally and irrevocably.
*Kellins POV*
"Mr Bostwick, can you answer this equasion for me?" Mr Alexander sneers. I scoff.
"Of course, sir, seeing as I was utterly engrossed in your monotone droning and was in no way ignoring every dismal word that left your mouth." I say proudly, sarcasm almost literally dripping from my words. Snickers erupt from around the room and I smirk up at Mr A, who is fuming down at me.
"Watch your tongue, boy! I will not be disrespected by an impetent fool that has taken the throne as 'Class Clown'."
"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" I stand and salute sarcastically, before skipping out of the room. 'Detention' is called from behind me and I simply laugh. Yeah right!
I sit in the music room for the remainder of the day, my fingers running smoothly over the keys on the grand piano. I hum along to the improvised tune until the door swings open behind me.
"What are you doing in here, Mr Bostwick? Shouldn't you be in lesson?" Miss Granger snaps. I shrug, return to my playing. "As good as you are on the piano, I have to give you a detention for not attending class."
"Whatever."
"Don't use that tone! Since its only ten minutes until the end of the day, head straight to the detention room and wait for Mrs Hart." I set off immediately and make it to the empty classroom just as the infernal chiming sounds through the halls.
"Ah, Mr Bostwick, you're here early! If you think this means you'll leave sooner, you're wrong. Go sit." Mrs Hart is the kind of teacher everyone hates. She wears her greying hair in a tight ponytail, her clothes are even too old for my gran to wear!
As I sit, staring at the wall, like I have been for the past five minutes, the door opens and in walks the Mexican faggot, Vic Fuentes. What a prick!
