Running Up That Hill

Title: "Running Up That Hill"

Rating: T

Summary: "Craving are hard to break, but addictions are nearly impossible. Bif Taylor was once Derby Harrington's right hand man, things happened, and now that's changed."

Authors Notes: Haha. It's been too long since I've written a Bully fanfic. There won't be many more, but I just recently replayed Bully and I've missed it too much. I just beat the Preps chapter, thus inspiring me to write some Derby/Bif controlling relationship slash. I also want to make two or three more chapters for this, so, reviews are inspiration! Enjoy! PS: This is kind of based off the song, Running Up That Hill - Placebo, it's not obvious, and it's a very lose connection but, maybe some of you may like that song. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own "Bully" and if I did, I'm pretty sure Zoe would have fallen off the roof instead of Gary.

"Bif," Derby snarled, "bring Gord here, now."

The right-hand man grimaced, but leaved to follow his leader's order. Whether he liked it or not, he had to do what Derby said. It wasn't just out of ranking, but also respect and surprisingly, trust. If Bif were to tell something to Derby out of secret, it would stay in his head, forever there in the shadows.

But Gord, he was going to get what he deserved.

Betraying the clique and breaking the rules, how could someone truly go unpunished? Bif smiled slyly as he descended down the grand staircase of the Harrington House. He heard Derby's bedroom door close with a light click, meaning he would be waiting, sitting in position, to rip into Gord's pointless defences.

The sun was setting in the far west, illuminating the endless sky with beautiful violets, indigos and dark blues. Looking straight above, a single star winked at him and disappeared into a passing, gray cloud. He slowly walked down the cement path leading to the fountain. He knew exactly where to find the damned man – where ever that irritating Jimmy Hopkins was. The bypassing students rushed past him, knowing that if one were to bump into the walking man, they wouldn't be able to make it back to the dorm by curfew. Well, that's what they thought – today, Bif was solely on a mission given to him by the promiscuous Derby.

Walking past the Greaser's territory always brought up painful and repulsive memories. Bif did not need to see the look of shame on his leaders face as the despicable Johnny penetrated him from behind. His beautiful face was bruised, the blood drying on his lip. Bif could remember after the incident, Derby would always softly brush the spots where Johnny's lips had been, as if they were lingering scars, stinging with dishonour.

Bif was right, as he usually was, as he spotted Gord standing in the old school bus, the back of his head in plain sight. He considered twice before approaching the rusting bus, but then he remembered he'd gone near things worse than that (Edna's cooking for one). As he pushed open the doors to the bus, he could hear Gord whispering quickly.

"Get off! Jesus, someone is here!" Gord's voice squeaked. As Bif walked up the steps and as the whole moment played in slow motion, he noticed three things at once. First, the look on Gord's face was a mixture of panic and pleasure. Next, Kirby was down on his knees, Gord's hand clenching the varsity jacket on Kirby's shoulder, and third, the other hand was rushing to do up the zipper on his slacks. Without a moment's hesitation, Gord pushed Kirby harshly, causing his back to hit the side of the bus. He grumbled a goodbye at Gord and pushed by Bif, leaving with a set of blazing, pink cheeks.

"Gord..." Bif said sternly, his teeth clenched.

"I didn't think anyone would find us! No one usually comes around this area or even comes close – apart from Jimmy... but Bif! You can't tell anyone, please! Especially Jimmy!"

Bif ignored his tasteless words and spoke coolly, "Derby wants to see you."

The blood drained from Gord's face and he gulped loudly. No one ever wanted to be personally called for Derby by his right hand man – it never meant anything good. Gord merely dropped his head – hiding his tears -and tagged behind Bif, ignoring the eyes of passing students. The prefects raised an eyebrow at Bif, but he stopped for no explanation and nodded in their direction. As the pair headed to the Harrington House, the first flakes of winter began to fall, dancing their way to the cold ground. As Bif pushed through the doors, he could hear Gord whimper from behind, the Preps nowhere in sight. The stairs didn't creak as they slowly made their way to Derby's room.

With each knock, Bif could hear Gord's heart pounding harder in the background.

"Come in," Derby's voice came from inside. Bif turned the golden knob and pushed the door in to find Derby sitting in his favourite green, elegant gold trimmed armchair. Derby's lips twitched, but remained a fine line. Bif walked in, with Gord behind him, at his heels. Bif grabbed his collar and pushed him out front, standing before Derby with shaking legs.

"Now, now, Bif, "Derby's voice purred, "Don't treat our friends like that. Gord," He smiled warmly and nodded. Then he turned his icy gaze to Bif. "You may you leave now."

Bif nodded and turned on his heels, closing the door in his exit.

"Gord! Such things are better left to the mind!" Derby hollered as Bif stood at the door, listening to his marvellous leader. "I may not belong to any religion, but surely things as filthy as you've done must mean some sin!" Bif flinched as he walked to the balcony, where the greenhouse was. The snow fell gracefully as he nodded to Tad and Parker, who chattered amongst themselves, barely acknowledging the towering red head.

***

Derby was not pleased over the weekend. He sulked around the town, with Bif at his side. It was hard to remember that Derby had human needs. He seemed too much like a robot at times. Never turning off and always speaking in the same tone – unless he was angry with someone, or pleased with Bif – sometimes worried him. Bif glanced down to the scowling blonde, whose gaze was focused on Gord, who was laughing with Tad. Ever since he had seen Gord and Kirby – he hadn't repeated the scene to Derby, he didn't need to know that. He just had to know that Gord had been with Jimmy and only Jimmy. That image remained in his head, causing him to question things he'd never thought of before. Sexuality was a rare topic of the school - most people knew where they stood. Gord knew perfectly well that he was in the middle, but found himself leaning more towards the gay side than straight, seeing as Lola had been a serious turn off since Johnny beat the tar out of him for taking his filthy broad.

It was just like walking between the lines, stuck between places you didn't want to be. Bif kept picturing the bus incident over and over again, imagining himself with Gord, and dare he do it – with Derby. It was extremely hard to picture Derby doing such degrading things. Although the image of Derby on his knees, his blonde head bobbing back and forth between Bif's muscled legs, made him curl in eagerness, but then disappoint would wash over him – knowing that such a thing was impossible and a waste of thinking time. Glancing down at his leader's face, the features he never acknowledged before seemed unbelievably stunning – as if Bif's sight had improved beyond human perfection. His chocolate brown eyes were endless, melting him with every glance. His blonde hair was combed back, flawless as it always had been, bringing out his sharp cheekbones and full, light pink, lips on his unblemished skin. He body was a whole other, wonderful story, and just thinking about it might make Bif lose control in the middle of town.

If only Derby could take it from his prospective, or at least be running up the same hill. But no, everything had to be difficult and problematic. So, who was it that came up with the quote, "money can buy you everything"? Bastards.

"Bif?" Derby whispered, massaging his temple.

"Yes, Derby?" Bif replied automatically, attempting to keep his knees from buckling from his luxuriant voice. The plant store that they walked by closed its doors, signalling that dusk was before them and it was time to return to the school if they wanted a glass of champagne before bed. Bif glanced over at Derby, whose lower lip was trembling, as if he was trying not to cry. A tear slid down his cheek and his cheeks flushed a dark crimson. Without a moment's hesitation, Bif stopped Derby in his tracks, hands on his shoulder, and wiped the tear away.

"What the hell are you doing?" Derby whispered furiously, pushing Bif away. Oh, the public. Though, there wasn't much of a code red - there was no one in sight. Just in case, Bif pulled Derby into the darkening allies, and pressed him up against the wall, the blonde squirming under his weight.

"Bif! What is with your outrageous behaviour?!" Derby snarled, trying to pry his aggressor's fingers from the expensive Aquaberry fabric. Pressing his forehead to Derby's, Bif breathed in Derby's scent, the intoxicating aroma made it impossible to think straight. Bif pressed his lips hard against Derby's, not allowing a second for the smaller boy to slip away and steal his wants - his needs. If he knew Derby wasn't underneath him, or didn't feel his heart pounding like a freight train, he would have figured he was dead. He was stiff and non-responsive, as if Bif had infected with the plague. But as he pulled away, he could see the emotions stirring in his eyes. Anger, then hatred, sadness, followed by a betrayal, happiness, and then the cycle started all over again.

"Why," Derby breathed through his pursed lips, "would you do this to me?" He closed his eyes, leaning as close to the wall as he possibility could – farthest from Bif. His words broke the fixation, bringing Bif back to the world of consequences. He couldn't afford it, no matter how much money he had, he couldn't repair the damage he'd just caused. Derby's cold, pale fingers brushed across Bif's warm, flushed cheeks. The wind picked up, causing shivers to make them both bit their lips out of haste.

Derby's hand was in Bif's hair, pulling his body up to close any space in between the pair. Their lips meet and fit perfectly, as if they had been the two missing pieces of the puzzle. The red head pressed his warm body rip up against Derby's, filling in every nook and cranny, ridding of the cold February's air. Before he knew it, Derby pulled back, putting his small hands on Bif's chest, as if he was trying to push him away. Bif yearned to touch Derby's blushing cheeks, but he knew that would be pushing it.

"We're not leaving out of this alley together. You go that way," he pointed to the farthest end, "and I'll just leave here," he said with a sigh, looking back at Bif's coffee coloured, pleading eyes.

"Maybe I should go with you," Bif suggested, holding himself back so he wouldn't overwhelm the blonde. But Derby shook his head.

"If people see me come out of a dark alley with you, think of the rumours and-"

"But they're not rumours," Bif interrupted sharply, afraid of what this was going to turn into. Would Derby forget all about this and try to carry on their lives, as if nothing ever happened? That was impossible, unthinkable, after the moment they had shared together. It was imprinted into his memory. Derby's face expression angered, causing Bif to take a step away.

"I know that as well as you do," he said with a slight smirk, but it transformed into a grimace, "but if people find out, my family is ruined – well, both of ours. This would be a disgrace to them, not us."

Bif nodded in disappoint and shoved his hands into his pocket and began to walk the opposite way.

***

"I told you it wasn't a good idea," Bif mumbled, treating Derby's injuries carefully.

"Why did you leave him alone?" Tad came in the room all of a sudden, glancing at Derby's lightly bruised face. "We had to come to the rescue and save him – we even needed Jimmy Hopkins to tear Johnny off of him," Tad shuddered, brushing the dirt off his sweater. Derby flinched as Bif lightly swabbed the cuts on his cheek, trying as hard as he could to be subtle with the soft caresses.

"I had other things to take care of," Bif spoke nonchalantly, keeping his sights on Derby. He didn't dare to look at him in the eye.

"Like what?" Tad pressed, moving closer to the paranoid boys. Bif racked his brain for a simple explanation, but he couldn't think of a single one. "Well? Were you taking it up the ass just like-"

"-That's enough, Spencer!" Derby shouted, knocking the bottle of alcohol out of Bif's hand as he jumped off the counter. Tad recoiled after Derby walked over and struck him hard across the face, the place where his hand connected with skin burned a bright red. Bif's eyes were wide with fright, his heart pounding inside his head. Tad kept his head down as he walked out the doors, his cheeks burning with shame.

"Why did you do that?" Bif whispered, after moments of silence, as he bent over to pick up the dripping bottle of alcohol. He left the spilt bit untouched, reminding himself to call in a maid later. Derby softly touched his face and sat himself back up on the counter.

"I don't know... It just kind of happened," he mumbled, shaking his hand softly, the tingling sensation remaining in his fingers. He watched Bif collect the cap and bottle and place it back in the cabinet. Their eyes met, and Bif crossed the room in three long strides before he had Derby's lips on his.

It was quick, but it was enough for him to keep on running before he reached the bottom of the hill.