A/N – Okay, there is one chapter left to go for "Penhall the Boss" so I am starting this one

A/N – Okay, there is one chapter left to go for "Penhall the Boss" so I am starting this one. I've been thinking and thinking of a new plot that I could use and twist. So, I hope this one goes. It will be slash, but I'll be working on the characters getting together. Anyway. I hope you all like this.

I have included a few lines from John Wilmot, please keep in mind that since it is a direct quote that (and I do expect someone to know this from their essay class) I cannot change any of the wording. So there are a few cuss words in it. And I am rating this appropriately.


Roses for my Man

Nightmares, Nightmares

Full on scream

Upstairs, downstairs

They all get creamed – Lil Mizz Bitchxx


Chapter 1

--

He licked his dried lips. From his car he could see the young man getting ready to go in to work. He wore tight jeans that showed off his ass quite nicely, a tan turtle neck and a dark brown blazer. Brown looked good on him, with his dark hair and brilliantly lively eyes. How delectable he was, Tommy was perfect. Tommy was beautiful and Tommy was his.

He growled as another man approached his Tommy – this man was buff and had blond hair, and wasn't as perfect as Tommy. He hugged the man slightly before they both went in to get out of the cold November air. He closed his eyes for a moment – the green eyed monster was threatening his well laid plans. He couldn't just rush in there and take his love like that, it would ruin everything. He had to be patient.

--

"Hanson, Penhall!" the yell from Fuller's office brought the said officer's to their Captain. Tom still had his coat on since he really hadn't had the time to settle into the stack of paper work that was waiting for him.

"Hey, Coach," Penhall said.

"Sit down, there's a problem at Keller High,"

"Drugs or guns?" Penhall asked.

"Or is it both?" Tom asked.

"Not sure, there have been students who have od'd there, but not enough for the school board to think it a problem. What's going on is, the kids who are "out of the closet" are getting hazed. It's bigger than any drug runner or gun enabler,"

"Oh boy," Tom muttered.

"Look, I don't care how you do it, but the tow of you gotta get into the camps and get the perps who are banging up these kids," Fuller said. Penhall snorted.

"I didn't mean it like that, Penhall!"

"Does it matter?" Penhall laughed.

"This isn't funny, this is serious," Tom glared at his partner.

"Gee, sorry, no pointing getting depressed over this, otherwise you might just quit the job," Doug said.

"Sorry, I've just been a bit jumpy lately," Tom sighed.

"It pays to be jumpy – you never know who might have his sights on you," Fuller opined.

"Thanks Coach," Tom gave a tight lipped smile.

"Okay, get to it,"

--

Keller High was a preppy school; of course you would have your Goth kids. Writing dark poetry and depressing over life but never taking it too far unless they had a good reason, like their puppy dieing or something. Next, the jocks – of course – who took stuff to get on the team and then deny it, well, whenever someone got caught; and then there were the cheerleaders – who were something in their uniforms, and a bit too ditzy for anyone but the jocks. Then we have the preps, who were probably the smartest kids in the school besides the geeks who carried the Summer Knowledge Bowl.

Tommy Callahan wasn't part of any of these groups, well, to a certain point. Somehow he mixed the Goth with the Prep and made people stare at him as he walked in. Dark baggy jeans with chains hanging all over, a white button down shirt with a black undershirt – a red tie and dark make up with a streak of white going through his hair (which hung in his eyes) made any girl from the afore mentioned groups sigh with longing and made their boyfriends glare at him jealously. He smirked at the guy's – but, he wasn't at all after their girls, but that wasn't the point. He did, however, find plenty of guys checking him out. He smirked at them a little. Might as well give out the dating clues; let them know he was 'interested'.

When he stepped into the principals office to get his schedule. He found the balding man glaring at him. "Hey teach!" Tommy said with an impudent grin.

"Callahan, I could smell you're audacity a mile away," the man said.

"So?" Tommy asked, propping up an eyebrow.

"So, those aren't school approved clothing,"

"Ah, come on, it's my first day," Tommy whined a bit.

"This is the only warning you'll get," the principal said. He handed Tom the afore mentioned schedule.

"Thanks, oh, and you might wanna tell the Preppy's and Goth that, I don't think they fully read the manual," Tommy grinned, he waved the Keller High hand book in the air before he strutted out of the office, much to the chagrin of the Principal and his aids.

He whistled as he went on to his locker (the combination included with the schedule) – he was still getting the glares and the looks, but that hardly mattered. Pissing people off was much fun. And now he could have fun in English class. How brilliant, English first – well, it was better than Advanced Mathematical Equations.

--

"Can anyone tell me why Adjectives are so important in writing?" Mrs. Callicott asked. She was a lovely woman with bright blue eyes and short brown hair. Even with all the crap she got, she was still nice. But most of the students loved her so they usually cut her some slack.

"So that people know what your writing about?" a girl called out.

"Exactly, writing isn't all about plot and characters, it's about detail. But, you have to be careful, too much detail bores a reader and too little bores a reader," Mrs. Callicott said.

"So, what is the right amount of detail?" Tommy called out.

"That is up to you to decide,"

"Wait, you just said to be careful," the girl from before blurted out.

"That's the point, writing isn't about being careful," Mrs. Callicott said. Then she brought out a red leather book and started to read from it

"In th' isle of Britain, long since famous grown
For breeding the best cunts in Christendom,
There reigns, and oh! long may he reign and thrive,
The easiest King and best bred man alive.
Him no ambition moves to get reknown
Like the French fool, that wanders up and down
Starving his people, hazarding his crown.
Peace is his aim, his gentleness is such,
And love he loves, for he loves fucking much
. – John Wilmot," she finished with the informing of the poet who wrote the lines.

"John Wilmot was the second Earl of Rochester and was banished for a time after he mistakenly gave the King this poem – as you see – who hazards this these days? Who goes to such a length to make it shocking, or did Wilmot even try to make it shocking? What if this sort of thing was spoken of everyday?" Mrs. Callicott asked.

"I don't think we can be shocked in this day and age," Tommy threw out.

"I'm not sure, but that's what I want you all to try and do, shock me. Write anything to try and shock me. And please, use your commas and spelling correctly, we're only talking about content here," she said. The bell rang and the teens gathered up their books.

"You have three days," Mrs. Callicott yelled after them. She waved at Tommy before he left. He nodded, she was weird.

--

Doug Hall joined the other jocks in the locker room; he had gotten in with them quite quick, but they new a good kicker when they saw one. The main guy of the group was Brent Johnson. He was the all star of the high school. He would go on to state and hopefully to national within a year. His little brother Milo was also on the team as Line Backer.

"Did you see that other new kid? He must be a fag," Brent said.

"So? What's it to you?" Doug challenged slightly.

"This school doesn't like fags, they ruin everything," Brent shrugged.

"Isn't that a bit shallow?"

"You don't know the half of it, fags should all die for what the do, the dirty shits," Brent replied angrily. He slammed his locker shut and made his way through the group of guys to his next class. Doug whistled and looked around, he caught Milo's eye.

"What's up with him?" Doug asked.

"Doesn't matter, older brothers are retarded," Milo replied with a shrug. He too left the group of guy's in the locker room. Doug noted this strang(er) behavior for later. At least, he would have to keep an eye on Brent and Milo Johnson.

When Doug left the locker room; he got his first look of Tom. The guy could pull off being sexy, he was sexy! Doug found it hard to play a straight guy when he was really, very much into guy's. Not that he would tell anyone, of course. It was hard being near Tom Hanson when he was horny, especially for that man. Tom must be delicious. He had to taste like chocolate and….raspberries. Yeah, he had to taste like that.

Doug shook himself from these thoughts. He had to keep a clear head. But it was hard, especially when he noticed Tom glancing in his direction. Doug didn't know what he would do if this came between their friendship. He would much rather have that intact.

--

Tom couldn't help but notice the look Doug was giving him when he emerged from the locker room. He was a good jock but Tom couldn't help but wonder. The fierce fire in Doug's eyes when he looked his way. The way those eyes gazed at him…it made his heart soar.

"Shit," Tom muttered. He had to keep a clear head. He couldn't let something that he might have misunderstood get in the way of his job, or his friendship, He didn't want to lose that, especially when he didn't have many good friends around.

--

a/n – I decided to end it here. Please tell me what you think of it so far. I will try and work on both plots. Wait…three…yeah…wow….okay. Just so you know, I am working on a book that has a lot of sub plotting. It's kinda hard to do but I hope that this will give me the practice that I need.

Ta,

Dizzy