A/N: Quotes taken from "Palettes and prompts" on tumblr.

Without Mrs Jean's help, he broke into Aimee's house anyway. These rumors about her and Kyle was bullshit. His mate, couldn't be going out with his ex. She'd only been single for five fucking minutes. If this was the only way to get the bubbly blonde back in his arms, then so be it!

He undoes the lock and crawls through the window. While shuffling himself through, he catches himself on his trousers. He's not cut, it's worse, he gets a hard on. There's no way he can see Aimee, let alone anyone like this. As pleased as she probably would be. He tries to cover himself with his jacket and waddles over to Aimee's room. It still looks the same, no strange boy's pictures or clothes spread all over the bed. He loosens his jeans and sits on the bed. Willing this pain in the arse to go away.

"Oatie-pie!" Eric cooes pushing open the door.

"Piss off Tromboner!" Adam yells.

"Oh...hey Adam! You seen the reason I breathe?" Eric smiles.

"Ya what?"

"My scrumptious oat-biscuit. He's gone out and about to promote our sex clinic. I think I've lost him!"

"Could you be any more of a fag?" Adam tuts in disgust.

"I'm gay honey, that's no secret!"

"Yeah, but you act so...swishy and feminine...why do you have to act so faggy all the fucking time?" Adam asked. He watched Eric fold his arms before walking over to him. Chuckling when he sees the massive erection.

"You know what Ad? I'm getting a little tired of your mouth. Why don't you put it to good use for change?" Eric asked. "Lie on the bed for me. Head against the headboard please"

"What?"

"Did I stutter?" I said, Lie on the bed" Eric repeats slower, like Adam can't understand English.

Suspicious, but extremely turned on, Adam shuffled further on to the bed. Was Tromboner a little drunk? High maybe? That's the only explaination he could think of. He'd would never order him around like this at school. His Dad was in charge, which meant that Adam was in charge. Maybe if Tromboner talked to him like this more often, their relationship would be entirely different. And kinkier.

Head against Aimee's headboard, Eric walks around the bed and taps his chin.

"Open your mouth. Get my fingers wet" Eric ordered. It didn't feel weird. Tromboners fingers did taste of Lavender handwash. Dutifully he sucked his fingers. Avoiding eye contact, collecting enough saliva until Tromboner's s digits were dripping.

"Good boy! For the record, you only came here for Aimee right?" Tromboner asked.

"Who?" Adam's too flustered to remember his own name. Nevermind anyone else's.

"Ames, your beautiful ex. I'm only doing this to get rid of your little problem, so you can rush downstairs and get the girl of your dreams! I should be a match-maker you know! Did you know you can make money just setting people up on dates man?" He asked. Tromboner leans into him. Gently kissing his cheek, with a smile. That is NOT doing Adam's erection any favours.

Why had he been shoving Eric into lockers, calling him names and kicking his chair? When he could have been cheering him on during band practise, buying him lunch and kissing him against those same lockers. Tromboner's lips are puppy fur soft. He wants him to run those dark hands down his body so, so badly. Before he can slip his tongue in, Tromboner unzips his jeans and takes him out.

"Hand-job it is!" Eric laughs, fastening his hand against his dick and going full stream ahead. He's trying to focus on Tromboner, that flawless black skin, and this powerful in-control smirk that radiating from his lips. But Tromboner's hands are like "Now you see me magic" His heart's ready to burst out of his chest, and his eyes are rolling into the back of his head. He's felt nothing else like it, his panting now, he's sure he's nearly there...

"Fun's over man! You're going down now!"

"Fuck! What? Nah! I'm...I'm still rock hard..." Adam whispers.

"No, you're as flat as a pancake now! Say say hi to Aimee for me!" Tromboner said getting off the bed and flouncing away like orange flash of light.

"Who? Tromboner! Get back here! Shit!" Adam yells, slamming his fist on the mattress.

The next day at school, he's early. Even his parents didn't have to remind him to get up. He asks Dad if he needs any help with his paperwork. Michael looks at him strangely. "You smell of lavender?" He asks twisting his nose. He gets to the lockers at around Seven Fifty Five am. The nerds are there! Tromboner burning everyone eyes in a flamingo pink and black striped shirt, while New kid looks...who really cares?

With his locker shielding him, he bends down and checks his breath. Minty fresh. He hears Eric laugh. With his stomach churning he walks over. "Hi guys. Otis. Eric" He nods politely walking past them as the best friends both stare at him in shock.