The sun was high in the sky and Roger and Maurice were sitting on the still damp sports field.

"Something's up, ain't it?" stated Maurice.

"What?" asked Roger distantly.

"I haven't seen you looking like that in a long time. You're thinking hard about something."

"Right, thanks, Maurice." Roger still stared out, not completely listening.

"Or someone?"

"What are you talking about, Maurice?"

"Come on, Roger. Don't act dumb. I know you better than anyone else and I can tell you're obsessing over something."

"And what makes you think that?" Roger turned on his friend coldly.

"Well you haven't been this way since…"

"Since what?"

"Simon."

"Shut up. Just shut up." Roger scowled in the frightening way that only Roger can manage, making Maurice cower.

"I shouldn't have said anything."

"No, you shouldn't." Roger pushed himself off the grass and began to walk away.

"Roger!" Maurice called after him. The upset tone of his voice caused Roger to stop and turn around.

"What?" Roger spat.

"… I-"

"Bye, Maurice."

Roger walked off alone into the trees. The way that Maurice knew him so well was scary to him. Roger was unpredictable, unexplainable, yet Maurice still always understood all the complex workings of his mind.

He remembered how Maurice had even been this way on the island.

Roger and Maurice were sitting on the beach one day on the island.

"You really like him, don't you? Its not just you being you." Maurice said unexpectedly.

"What?"

"Simon. Don't lie, I've seen how you treat him. Its always him, and I can tell he's all you think about. You're obsessed!"

"What's it to you?" Roger exploded. How had Maurice seen this? How closely had he been watching him?

"It's just… Why him? He's so weak and he's always been the one we picked on. It just doesn't make sense."

"You jealous?"

"What? That's insane, Roger."

"Is it really?" Roger leant in closer to Maurice, who stayed silent and just looked at Roger with his eyes that were so deep brown, they were almost black.

"What you doing, Rog?" asked Maurice. Without warning, Roger stood up. Maurice followed hesitantly, but was immediately grabbed by the shoulders and pushed back. He tripped over Roger's leg which was curled around his leg and he fell backwards into the shallow waves with a splash.

"We can't have you feeling left out, can we?"

"Roger, I don't-" Maurice started, but Roger stamped on his shin and he cried out in shock.

"Stay very still." Roger commanded. Maurice obeyed, succumbing to temptation.

Roger knelt down, placing his knees either side of Maurice's thighs and slipped off the boys dirty shorts. He lowered his head to Maurice's face and felt Maurice's heavy breathing on him. His friend's eyes were fluttering shut and his expression of happiness was ill hidden. Roger placed his lips on his and Maurice kissed back. Roger used his teeth to bite Maurice's lip softly, rocking backwards and forwards on top of him. He slid his tongue into his mouth, where it met Maurice's eager tongue. Roger kissed him passionately for a while as both the boys became more and more turned on.

The kiss moved from Maurice's lips, to his neck, down his chest and stomach and onto his erect member. Roger's tongue teased his cock as pre-cum wept from the tender end and Maurice shuddered with pleasure.

Roger then grabbed Maurice's matted, shoulder length hair and help his head down. With his other hand he swiftly grabbed a handful of sand and thrust it into Maurice's mouth, which was ajar with astonishment. He coughed and spat, still unable to get his hair free from Roger's grip.

"W-w-why?" he choked. Roger looked down at him, a rageful glow in his eyes.

"Maybe you'll remember this next time you interfere in things that ought not to be interfered in." he seethed, grabbing another handful of sand and launching it right into his friend's eyes. He got up, making sure to painfully step on Maurice's hands and stomach as he walked off. He could hear Maurice behind him beginning to weep.

They had remained friends. Maurice seemed desperate to stay as his accomplice, and Roger saw no reason to decline him that.

Roger came to the edge of the field and wondered what Rose was up to this afternoon. He had memorised her working schedule, so he knew that she had today off. What did she do on her days off?

He imagined her at home, perhaps she was in the shower. Beads of water streaming off of her perfect white curves. Her long black hair dripping water down her perfect, large breasts. She leans her head back and caresses her beautiful body…

Or perhaps she was preparing a meal. Her silky, straight hair tied back off her face. Her sleeves rolled up, revealing her pale arms. A look of concentration on her flawless features as she chops vegetables with a large knife that contrasts her tiny hands. But from watching Rose at work, Roger had learned that she is clumsy. Maybe while chopping, the knife slithers from her grip and slits her porcelain skin. Her rosy blood is just as perfect as the blush in her cheeks…

But where did she live? In the week that Roger had been watching her, he had only seen in which direction she went in order to return home. This wasn't enough.

Tomorrow, he would find out more.

Thank you for the reviews, I was sooo happy people had read my story already :D I will be uploading the next chapter very soon, Thanks again!

Anne xxx