Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the plot.

The small, brown-headed boy walked down the hallway, with his head down, looking at the book in his arms. He tried not to pay attention to any of the jeers that were directed towards him. He didn't want to hear any of it now. He was getting tired of it, as it is.

"Hey, faggot. Where you going?"

"You going to go cry, girly?"

"Where are all your friends at?"

He grimaced and attempted to quicken his pace, but his short legs had other plans. He soon heard movement behind him, quick footsteps, which told him that he was being chased after. His eyes widened, and, without thinking, he ran down the hall, dropping his book in the process.

"Hey, he's running away!"

"Let's get him!"

He felt his heart beat in his throat as he turned the corner, skidding slightly. He looked behind, to check if they were still after him. When he turned back around, he collided with the tall and scary lead Bully, Russell. He widened his eyes, stopping in his tracks.

Russell smirked and reached out his hand, grabbing the collar of his shirt. He picked up the small boy, making him attempt to shrink away. "You gonna get it now," Russell said in his simple tone.

The Bully raised up his fist, pulling back his arm, getting ready to smash the smaller's face in, but something stopped him. The brown-head heard the sound of breaking glass.

Russell dropped him, making him crumble to the ground. As he slowly stood up, his nose wrinkled up in disgust. It must have been a stink bomb that had broke. He raised up an arm, shielding his nose from the scent. He glanced up at Russell, who was looking around furiously, attempting to find the person who had thrown the bomb at him.

The smaller turned on his heel, using this chance to escape, but someone grabbed his arm, yanking him in the other direction. His eyes widened, and he tried to shake his arm, not wanting to be taken away by, most likely, another Bully, or just someone who would beat him up. But when they had gotten out of the stink bomb's green smoke, he realized that the person that had pulled him away was Gary Smith.

"What the hell, Gary? What are you doing?"

Gary continued to pull him away from the scene. "Saving your ass, Pete. You looked like you were having trouble back there."

Petey narrowed his eyes in annoyance, but had stopped trying to pull away from the other. "Where are you taking me? I can handle it from here."

The other only laughed. "'fraid I can't let you do that, femme boy." Petey let his arm go limp in Gary's hold. He dug his heels into the floor, trying to stop Gary from pulling him. The taller felt Petey's sudden lack of movement, and he turned slightly, eyes narrowed. "Come on, Pete. I know you don't wanna die."

Petey yanked his arm from Gary's grasp. "I'm not gonna die," he said, turning his head to the side, not wanting to meet the other's gaze.

Gary laughed again. "The one time I care…" He walked off, throwing his arms up in the air.

The smaller watched him walk away before shaking his head. He turned around and started walking down the hall. "I'm not gonna die," he muttered. "What was he thinking…" He traced his steps back to the book he had thrown carelessly on the floor when he had ran. He picked up his book, examining it. He pursed his lips in a small pout before walking down the hall again. Afternoon classes were due to start any moment…

"There he is!"

Petey snapped his head to look behind him, his eyes widening again. "Oh, come on," he mumbled. He looked back ahead and started running down the hall again, the feeling of déjà vu hitting him.

More Bullies appeared around the corner, which made him drop his book in surprise. "Come on." He shook his head and attempted to dart past him, but a blonde one, Trent, caught his arm. Petey looked over at Trent, eyes widen. He shook out of his grip the best he could. "Let. Me. Go," he insisted, finally yanking his arm free. He, then, sprinted down the hall as fast as his little legs could let him.

Petey had arrived in the other part of the school when he looked behind him to check if he was being followed, and that's when he was pulled into the nearest janitor's closet.

He fell to the ground, hitting his forehead against a bookshelf, that wasn't supposed to be in a janitor's closet. He groaned and turned around, putting his hand to his forehead. He looked up, seeing who had pulled him in there. He narrowed his eyes. "What do you want, Gary?"

Gary merely chuckled as he turned around, pressing his back to the door. Petey heard the door lock from behind the other's back. "I told you I was saving your ass." He smirked.

Petey stood up, dropping his hand to his side. "I didn't need saving. Now, if you will…" He reached out his other hand, wrapping his fingers around the doorknob.

The taller slapped his hand away. "Ah, ah, ah, femme boy. What if the mean, little Bullies are out there?" he asked, in a mock baby voice. Petey took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I need to get to class."

Gary rolled his eyes. "The bell hasn't even rang yet, you little overachiever." With that been said, the bell signaling the afternoon classes rang. Petey gave a smug expression. Gary's shoulders sunk. He looked over at the other. "You still need to stay in here. You're a wanted man, Pete." He took a step towards him.

Petey narrowed his eyes again. "I'm not wanted. Now, move." He held out his arms, going to push Gary. Instead, he grabbed Petey's arms, holding them down at his sides.

"I'm only saving you, Pete. You gotta learn how to appreciate that."

"I'm not going to appreciate anything you've done. Let me go. Ow! You hurt my wrist!"

Gary let go of the smaller's arms, pulling his hands to his chest. "I hurt you? Now, I gotta keep you in here. Keep you under observation. Let me see." He reached out, going to grab Petey's wrist.

"No, Gary. Go away." He squirmed a bit, putting his hands behind his back.

"I'm only gonna—"

"—I don't want you to. Stop it, Gary."

"Dude, I'm trying to help. Stay still."

"Ow! You pinched me. How is that helping—"

"—are you questioning me? You can't question—"

"—shove off! God."

"Why can't you stay still?"

"You're pushing me! Gary, stop it! I'm serious. Sto—"

Gary pushed Petey into the bookshelf, causing various books to fall on the two of them, including a couple boxes. The taller looked at the other, eyes narrowed.

"Nice going, Pete."

"How is this my fault? You pushed—"

"Don't change the subject!"

Gary pressed his palms flat on the ground and pushed himself up, leaving Petey struggling under the boxes. He dusted off his pants, his Bullworth sweater, turning around. "Well, I guess you've persuaded me, femme boy. I'm best off with leaving." He goes over to the closet door, unlocking it.

Petey flailed around underneath the boxes and books. "Gary, come back! I need help!" He tried to push them off, but his lack of physicality held him back.

The taller put his hands behind his back as he slowly turned around. "Oh? You need my help? That is so out of character, Pete." He walked over to the struggling boy before crouching down, putting his elbows on his knees. He propped his hand up with his fist. "What's my motivation?"

Petey stared at him, eyes widened. "Your motivation?" he questioned, waving his arms around. "You wanted to help me before! Remember? You wanted to save my ass, or something."

Gary looked up at the ceiling and narrowed his eyes, as if in thought. He soon shook his head, lips pursed slightly. "I don't remember."

He let out a gasp and tried to sit up. "Gary, please help me."

The dysfunctional teen tilted his head, putting his hands together. "I'm not feeling it, Pete." He clapped like he just got an idea. "You need acting lessons."

Petey's eyes seemed to bulge out of his skull. "What?" He shook his head, shifting around the boxes and books around him. "Just forget it, I can help myself." He pushed a box away, but not without showing signs of a struggle.

Gary laughed. "You crack me up, femme boy. So girly." He reached over, putting his hands on the box Petey was trying to move. He froze, then, a smirk growing on his face. He looked at the other, the smirk plastered on his face as if it were Cheshire Cat's. "Kiss me."

Petey's head snapped up, eyes widening even more. "What? No, no. I don't want—"

"—you wanted me to help you." He lifted up his hands from the box, resting them on his knees. "I'll help you if you kiss me." He leaned forward, smiling. He laughed softly.

Petey stared at Gary, speechless. His lips parted, and he opened and closed his mouth like a fish. "I… Uh…"

"Oh? Is that what I think it is? Is that the sound of you helping yourself out of this?" Gary smiled and stood up, stretching. "Well, I'll best be going if you can help yourself…" He started over to the door, but Petey flailed, trying to wave his arms around.

"No! No! I'll… I'll… kiss you." He frowned slightly, sinking back into the ground.

Gary turned around, going back over to Petey. He dropped to his hands and knees, hovering above the weaker. "You'd really do that, Pete?" He looked away dramatically, starting to fake a cry. "For me?" He let out a sob.

Petey rolled his eyes and attempted to sit up a bit. "Yeah… But if you act like that, I won't." He narrowed his eyes.

The other quickly shook his head. "Sorry, femme boy." He leaned forward, getting closer to Petey. He paused, only a few breaths away. "You lean in, now."

Petey groaned softly and leaned forward, then, feeling Gary's lips against his own. He squeezed his eyes shut and stayed still, not wanting to further the kiss. He didn't want to kiss a boy, let alone Gary.

He felt Gary laugh against his lips. "You have to be into it, Pete," he muttered, pressing his face closer to Petey's. He lifted a hand to rest on the other's neck, tilting his head.

Petey wrinkled his nose, but pressed his own face closer, parting his lips. He felt the other's tongue poke at his lips before it slipped into his mouth, sliding against his own tongue. He wanted to pull away, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Gary lowered his hands, and Petey heard him put his hands on something, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Before he knew it, the boxes and books were removed from his chest and legs, and Gary crawled closer to Petey, hovering above him.

The kiss lingered for a few more seconds before Gary pulled away. He raised up slightly, wetting his lips. He looked down at Petey, furrowing his eyebrows as he saw that the other had his hands on his chest, gripping onto the sweater, as if he didn't want the kiss to end. Gary raised an eyebrow before Petey quickly pulled his hands away, holding them close to his chest.

Gary smirked before standing up, being carefully not to tread on any of the books and various items that had fallen. He glanced at Petey before kicking a box away, heading to the door. "Come on, femme boy. I helped you."

Petey looked down, furrowing his brow. He saw that Gary had, indeed, cleared everything off of him, and pushed it all aside. He licked his lips and carefully stood up, dusting off his pants. He glanced at the taller before walking over to him, head lowered. "Thanks," he muttered.

He felt a hand on his back. "Don't mention it." Gary looked over at him. "Seriously, don't mention it."

Petey shook his head and went towards the door, unlocking it and stepping out, the halls clear, but class was still in session. He began to walk down the hall, but he was stopped by Gary draping an arm around his shoulders.

"So, Pete, how does it feel to have kissed the most awesome guy in the world?"

"Shut up, Gary."