*for the sake of this story i'm imagining the characters as being at least sixteen, so play along, alright? lots of thanks and kisses *.*
The long, empty school hallway echoed with the sound of two pairs of footsteps. Drake and Diana had been assigned by Caine to patrol the school and take inventory, listing any items that could be useful, such as food, medicine from the nurse's office, stuff to keep the prees busy with. It was a long, boring task and, as much as the two didn't want to admit it, it was eerie being inside the building. The fuzzy fluorescent bulbs never dimmed, shining on day and night with that hollow buzzing sound, illuminating the stray papers and backpacks scattered everywhere. Lockers hung open and chairs lay toppled over onto their sides or were left pulled out as if the people sitting in them had all jumped up quickly and hadn't bothered coming back. Which was what had happened when the FAYZ came down on all of them.
Another errand tasked them by "Dear Leader", as Diana liked to refer to him behind his back, was to search the school for any kids who had been knocked out, trampled on accident, or who were just plain scared to come out. This was long-winded and grueling. They had to search every square inch of every room, under desks, in cubbyholes,all while simultaneously filling garbage bags with whatever goods they found. It was even harder being in such close proximity to one another, though.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are", shouted Drake down the hall, his voice taunting. "Why won't these brats just get it over with already?" Diana could tell he was tired, and probably bored. Weasels like Drake weren't exactly known for the size of their attention spans, after all. She wondered for a moment if she should push it, or just leave him be.
"They're probably scared. I would be, if I was in their situation. I mean, haven't you heard? The police around here beat people to death. God, how barbaric!" Diana started to smirk. Out of the corner of her eye she could make out Drake's face. He was absolutely fuming, pushing his dirty blond locks back from his forehead roughly with the hand that was holding the sleek little black gun.
"Shut your mouth, Diana." Was he really going to leave it at that? Diana knew she wasn't. "Why, whatever has you so upset, Drake? I was merely making conversation. If I'd known you were so sensitive, I never would have brought it up. Do forgive me." She grinned evilly. After a moment could see that it was more than he could take, the breaking point. She mentally kicked herself as Drake's rage boiled over, although she was careful not to show any fear on her face.
With a quick, fierce move Drake turned around, his face a mask of anger. He grabbed her right arm, hard, and dragged her into the classroom they were walking by, on the left side of the hall. She really was scared now. "Drake, what the fuck are you doing?", Diana yelled, slapping him across the face, as he pushed her into the wall, pinning her there with one hand, the gun at his side.
"You kiss your momma with that mouth, bitch? Oh wait, I forgot: You can't, she's dead. Rotting in the ground. Pity. I'm sure she'd be so proud of the conniving whore you've become today." He spit on Diana's cheek. It rolled down her face as she struggled to control her emotions. Anger and fear were making her eyes well.
"Aw, look, she's gonna cry." He made sounds like a baby wailing. "Shut up!", she screamed, losing her temper. "Oh, not so cool anymore, huh? Where're all the cutting remarks, Diana? Where's that crushing sarcasm?" She cut him off. "Shut up, cro-magnon boy. If you weren't so busy kissing Caine's ass all the time you might learn some common decency. I guess you're a good learning example of what happens when white meets trash, though. At least we'll have a live specimen to illustrate to the prees why brothers and sisters don't get married. At least you're good for that."
It was Drake's turn to slap her. He hit her across the face twice, first with his palm and then with the handgun. "Maybe that'll teach you", he snarled. Diana could tell he was enjoying this. It made her that much more enraged. "I'll kill you--", she started to say, hands flying, scratching at his grabbed both her hands in one of his and cut her off, saying, "I knew it. You're just a dumb bitch with a big mouth. It's easy to run your mouth off when Caine's around to protect you, isn't it? Can't do much now, can you? Huh? Not with that lame excuse you call a power." He snarled. Diana tried to ignore him, tried desperately to come up with a way out of this. She watched Drake closely, examining him for something, any weakness she could exploit. Drake's breathing was heavy, his body pressed close to hers. His palms were slicked with sweat. "Put two and two together" she told herself. "You're...getting off on this, aren't you?" She said, in amazement.
"Shut up", Drake said yet again, his voice rough. He was embarrassed, Diana realized with growing surprise. Sliding a hand up the side of Drake's face, she whispered in a cool voice, "Aren't you?" Her hand continued up, curling into Drake's hair, tousling it. At first she was only intending to play with him, mess with him enough to get him to back off. She pressed her lips lightly against the line of his jaw. Anything to keep him occupied until she could find an out, or someone came looking for them. Drake's breathing got faster, shallower. Diana could feel it against her neck, hot. His arm came up, she could feel it, sure he was going to touch her hair. She could humiliate him then, with that.
But she was wrong. The cold shock of metal hit her forehead. Drake was holding the gun to her temple. "What now, huh?" he teased her. She could tell there was nothing playful about the gesture, though. "Regulate your breathing" She told herself. Diana knew she had to be careful, but she also knew what Drake really wanted. She slid her thigh in between his legs.
"I'm going to blow your brains halfway across the school", Drake hissed, his mouth on hers, an inch away. "You mean you don't want this?" she whispered back, pushing their mouths together.
They kissed hard, spitefully. Diana bit down on Drake's lip till she drew blood that seeped into the kiss, making it taste of iron. "Drop the gun", she commanded. It clinked when it hit the tile floor, so hard Diana was surprised that it didn't break open. Even more confounding was that she didn't go for the gun, didn't pull away from Drake. "God, if I'd known what a shitty kisser you were I would've just let you do me in." she whispered when they broke apart. "Bitch" Drake mumbled, preoccupied, hands working at the buttons on her starched white Coates Academy shirt. Realizing it wasn't going to happen, Diana pushed at his hands, annoyed, and ripped the top open on her own, buttons flying across the room, bouncing off the chalkboard and desks scattered all around them.
The lights flickered momentarily. Diana's breath caught in her throat, from fear, she thought, until she felt Drake's mouth on her neck again and moaned out loud. "That's right." he snickered, pushing at her black bra straps with his fingers. She slapped his hands away again and pulled off his sweater, throwing it across the room, where it landed on the teacher's desk. Drake looked shocked. He was sure Diana had given in because of fear. Now he wasn't so sure anymore. There was a determined, he could swear almost hungry look in her eyes. It was a little disappointing. He'd been looking forward to debasing her.
When Diana reached her hand into his pants he looked even more shocked. Drake moaned out loud as Diana ran her fingers over his cock. He was painfully hard. She dragged her nails down his length, making him practically scream. His knees knocked together, his whole body shaking as she wrapped her hand around him and pulled, hard. "Oh, god, Diana," he cried out, eyes squeezed shut tight, "Oh, oh you fucking--you whore..." She was unzipping his pants now, down on her knees in front of him, one hand, now two, holding him up against the wall. He lost all sense of time, where he was, couldn't hear or see. Nothing mattered but what Diana was doing to him right now.
"Diana, oh god Diana" he went on moaning as she traced her tongue over his member, teasing him, making him beg for it, for her, before she finally finished him off. He came on her hands as she moved away, then slid down the wall till he was on the floor, panting, his eyes still tightly shut. He could feel Diana crawling over him, on his lap, her knee in between his thighs as she leaned down to kiss him. He bent up to her, like a pet, needing her lips on his. She ran her hands down his bare chest, scratching him lightly with her long manicured fingernails. Drake shivered. He could feel and hear as she zipped up his fly. Disgusted with himself, he lay there like that for a time before finally opening his eyes.
Diana was sitting on the table directly across from him, a little round table high off of the ground where kids sat together to do projects and things like that. Legs crossed at the knee, a know-it-all look on her pretty face, not even acknowledging Drake's existance. Sudden rage tore through his veins. Pushing himself off the floor, he stalked purposefully over to where Diana sat, idly sucking on one of her fingers, biting the nail. She didn't look up, didn't even speak, she was so engrossed in her stupid nervous habits. This only served to piss him off even more.
Something shimmered in the corner of his eye. Turning, he saw the handgun still on the floor. Police issue, a beautiful weapon, really. It was Drake's favorite, the one he carried with him everywhere. He picked it up. Looked at it. Looked back at Diana,still perched on the edge of the table. With renewed energy he stepped over to the table and laid his free hand on Diana's knee, almost gently. She looked up. Taking advantage of the momentary attention paid him, he pushed her locked knees apart forcefully.
"Drake, what are yo--" she started, but before she could finish Drake was pulling off her underwear. "Aw, you really know how to charm the ladies,huh?" Diana laughed, though it was obvious he had caught her by surprise. It showed in her slightly unsteady voice. Before she could get another word in Drake had her legs spread over the table. She started to open her mouth and before she could he slammed the gun inside of her.
The effect was like an electric shock. Diana's back arched, her breasts straining against the thin lacey cups of her bra. Her legs spread even wider apart. The metal of the barrel was cold inside her, icy cold. The indentations in the barrel of the gun rubbed against the walls of her pussy, making her moan uncontrollably, bucking her hips against the gun, pulling it deeper inside of her.
This got Drake all excited. He pulled the gun out, then shoved it in again, harder and harder every time. Diana's long, dark locks covered her face most of the time, but every few minutes she would buck hard and toss her head back. Drake could make out a rapturous expression of what looked like pure pleasure on her face. It drove him crazy, knowing that with the slightest movement, just a little bit of pressure on the trigger, he could blow her to pieces...He wondered if that's why Diana was getting off on it so much, too.
Diana tossed her head back again, hair flying, the creamy globes of her breasts pushing hard against her bra. Unable to control himself, Drake pulled the gun out of her and lifted himself up onto the table,on top of her. "No, don't stop, idiot..." Diana mumbled drowsily, pressing her body up into his. Drake kissed her, pushing his tongue into her mouth, his hand dragging down the side of her chest, pulling off her bra. She moaned aloud again as he buried his face in her chest, kissing his way down to her where her plaid skirt met with the skin. He collected himself, pulled away, and shoved the gun back inside her once more. She came fast, after just a couple of strokes, breathing fast and hard until she collapsed back onto the tabletop.
Drake walked across the room and pulled on his wrinkled sweater. After a few moments of frenzied breathing Diana stood up and pulled on her underwear, wondering how she was going to get out of here without her clothes, but not letting it show on her face. She grabbed the two trash bags she had been carrying from the pile they lay in by the door, all askew, and turned to face Drake, who watched her with an amused expression. "Well? What are you waiting for, Sherlock? You born stupid and blind? Pick up the rest of the bags and make it fast. Caine'll be expecting us back." Her tone was cold and hard. He stared. Diana started out of the door, standing tall in her black lace bra. "I said now, or do you no comprende English, asshole?" And with that she click-clacked her way out of the room, and on down the tiled hall.
"Yes, M'am" Drake whispered under his breath. He picked up the bags and followed her, a cocky grin stretching his face, gun in one hand, still slick. At the doorway he looked back over the room, eyes sweeping across it, then leaned over and flicked the light switch. The buzzing of the fluorescents stilled, and everything went dark, laying a reverent silence over the empty classroom.