this is what happens when Louisa reads too much about World War 2 and the Civil War and Gathering Blue. hope y'all like it, i wrote it after my history final, taha
Ryan Evans pressed himself deep down inside the mud and peered all around him. There were no guards in sight. He nodded at his companion. Taking a deep breath, Troy Bolton motioned the rest of the squad to follow slithered after Ryan. It was now or never.
"Masks on?" he whispered to Troy in a voice no louder than the slight breeze.
"Masks on," the lieutenant replied, and gave a very realistic bird call. The thirteen teenagers behind them pulled black masks (which were actually fairly similar to that of Zorro), leaving only their mouths and blue eyes showing, and gave Troy the thumbs up. Troy nodded at Ryan and they both pulled their own masks over their features. Their hair was covered with black skull caps. Not that it made any difference; every member of River Runners had dyed blue-black hair.
The seventeen-year-old fumbled with something inside his muddy black jacket, and slowly produced a crowbar. He slowly cranked open a grate on the side of the building. In his slithered, with Troy and seven others in his wake. Six of them stayed behind to watch the opening.
A cramped crawl and steep hike consisting of everyone bracing themselves against the tiny walls and inching upward, and the squad had arrived in the eaves on the two-story stone building. They moved as softly as if they were not there at all, and after a few tries, pried open an air vent (it was winter, so no need for air conditioning). Ryan clicked his tongue at Troy, who immediately handed him a small, attachable video camera that highly resembled a smoke detector. The leader of the Research Squad slipped his hand through the miniscule opening at a snail's pace and pressed it gently against the ceiling of the empty conference room.
All that was left was to escape without any signs that they had been there. The air vent clicked back into its place, and everyone slid noiselessly down the vent system until one by one they rolled out into the grass. Ryan was the last one out, and painstakingly sealed the grate up. The rain pelted the rejoined squad ten times harder than the first time as they slunk away in the squishy mud.
It was only after the squad was more than two miles away from the building that everyone relaxed. Sighing heavily with exhaustion, Ryan tugged off his mask and skull cap and let the freezing rain hit his sweaty face. Troy laughed at his luxury and followed suit.
"Now, that wasn't too bad," he joked, kicking mud at his best friend. Ryan rolled his eyes and turned around in circles while he walked, eyes closed.
"Just a tad claustrophobic." Ryan used his teeth to pull off the "fingers" to his gloves and ran a weary hand through his now soaked, shaggy black hair. The thirteen other squad members had also removed their disguises and were also rejoicing in the cold relief of the rain; Craig, Max, Parker, Nick, Spencer, Elizabeth (Lizzie), Francesca (Fran), Anna, Brianna, Lindsey, Rebecca, Devin, and Violet (Vi).
Troy eyed Ryan stretching his cramped muscles for several minutes before the temptation became to strong for him. He walked casually over behind Ryan and wrapped his arms around his waist from behind. He made sure not be secretive about it or his paranoid buddy might have a heart attack. Ryan laughed gently, and reached back an arm to drape over Troy's neck teasingly. Troy whipped him around and brushed his lips against his boyfriend's. Ryan bit Troy's lip teasingly. Troy put on his best puppy face and ran his hand down Ryan's back. Ryan yawned mischievously, knowing Troy would take the bait.
His calculation proved correct. Troy dove for his mouth like a puppy to peanut butter. His tongue pushed access into Ryan's yielding mouth, and his hand supported Ryan's sweet head from behind.
"Honestly, hold the snogging for later," remarked Spencer, who had lived in Yorkshire before he moved to what had been the U.S. seven years before. "We are almost there." Troy did not stop his exploration of Ryan's mouth, so Ryan pulled gently away and pecked him on the lips.
"Hold off, killer; he's right. We're almost there." Troy stuck his tongue playfully out at him, but did as he was told. That didn't stop him from slipping his hand down Ryan's midnight black pants while they walked. He was delighted to see that the latter didn't protest.
It was beyond Troy how Ryan could remain so calm about their relationship. Late at night he had the same if not more passion as Troy about their relationship, but in public he was never caught up in his emotions to the point of excessive "public displays of affection." Troy, on the other hand, was not so easily able to ignore his arousals. He wanted Ryan, and he wanted him then and there. But Spencer was slightly right. It would prove awkward to continue their make-out session in the middle of the park they were passing through on their way back to headquarters. Yet again, it was painless for Spencer to tell them off; his boyfriend was on the Base Squad. He didn't have to deal with the lust factor on missions.
Troy sighed. Things hadn't always been like this. Not in terms of him and Ryan, but of the whole country. The whole thing had been slow and gradual, slipping into what was now called the Bitter Revolution. A whole nation taken over, a certain group of teenagers kicked out of school, and all over something none of them could control…
Their eyes.
R&R? What did yall think?