Title: Romance and Mysteries
Authors: Tiger220, sophronia, Prince_Bacchus, Cowshark, Hoedogg, Mr. Hairy
Authors' Note: As you can see, this fic is the work of many people. It's a running story where each person posts part of it and leaves it unfinished so that the next person can play along. The story is currently being worked on at televisionwithoutpity.com, so feel free to come on over and add your own piece.
Disclaimer: We don't own the characters or anything else (Brenda Hampton, et al do), but if we did, things might be better…
*********
Chapter 3:
"Uhhh..umm...well..." Simon struggled for something to say to his teacher, but nothing would come out. Simon's prayers were answered when the bell rang, releasing him from this highly uncomfortable moment.
With a cocky smile and tilt of his head, Simon jumped from his chair and followed his classmates out the door. He hadn't made it more than three feet before Davey Nichols stopped him.
"Hey, Simon man, you got any gum..." he said, his eyes shifting back and forth. What was with this kid and gum?? Day in and day out Davey would stop and ask for bubble gum. "Well," Simon thought to himself, "at least it's not cigarettes. Or coffee. That crap will stunt your growth.."
Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his last stick of Big Red. The pockets were kind of tight (hell, the pants were kind of tight) and the car keys came out with the gum and fell to the floor.
Simon bent down to pick up the keys, but before he could reach them, a hand swooped in and grabbed them away. Looking up, Simon realized that the hand belonged to Mike, Morris's friend who'd given him the spiked punch at the party.
"Hey!" Simon yelled. "Give those back!"
Mike laughed and fired the keys to his friend Tom, who took off down the hall. Simon frantically ran after him, but Tom had a head start. Other kids heading for their classes kept getting in the way. Simon finally got close enough to grab at Tom's shirt sleeve as he turned to go down the staircase.
Holding the keys above Simon's head, Tom spotted Morris at the bottom of the stairs. "Morris!" he shouted, and flung the keys down just as Morris looked up. With his athletic reflexes, Morris caught the keys easily. Then he looked up again, and seeing Simon, realized who was the victim in this game of keep-away. A smile spread across his face, and he held the keys up for Simon to see.
Relieved, Simon thundered down the stairs. But just as he stretched out his hand to take the keys, Morris closed them in his palm, whirled and took off in the opposite direction. For a second, Simon was too shocked to react as Morris sped down the hallway, smirking at him over his shoulder. Then he sprinted down the hallway in desperate pursuit.
Simon darted around the corner, looking from one side to the other for Morris. He saw the door to the bathroom swinging open and shut, and headed in. He looked around and couldn't see anyone. Just then, everything went dark as a pair of hands passed over his face. He shook his head and smirked.
"Give me my keys back."
"Just like that? Too easy."
"Getting me back?"
"Maybe." Simon peeled MOrris's hands off his eyes and turned around, crossing his arms.
"Okay. Hand 'em over."
"Come and get them."
"Come on, Morris, I'm having a day that's about ten notches above David Lynch on the creepy scale. I don't need this." Morris just shrugged and stood there. "You are such an asshole," Simon said. He smirked and held out his hand. "Come on."
Morris sauntered over until he was about an inch from Simon's face. "Okay. But what do I get?" Simon just smirked, fully amused. "I knew you'd be too..." Morris didn't finish. He felt a tug on his jacket and a preacher boy's lips on his.
Simon kissed Morris hard, running his fingers through his pale hair. He paused, and moved his hand to Morris' arm, caressing his bicep, and running his fingernail across the cotton-enclosed skin. The older boy shivered, and pressed closer to Simon. Simon took this opportunity to move his hand further downward, and attempted to capture the keys from his hand.
Morris pulled back, keys firmly in his grasp. "Sneaky."
Simon waggled his eyebrows. "I have to try."
"Come and get 'em." Morris grinned, and shoved the keys down the front of his jeans.
"You know you're insane, right?"
Morris undid the top button of the fly. Simon blushed, and started to walk towards him.
But then the bathroom door started to open...
"What the hell's going on in here, boys?" said Tom as he burst through the bathroom door.
In a panic, Simon improvised. "He flushed my keys! They went down the toilet," he whined convincingly. He pointed at a stall to distract Tom while Morris quickly rebuttoned his pants.
Tom stared at the stall in disbelief for a moment, then turned to Morris with a look of admiration and high-fived him. He then laughed tauntingly as he turned around and exited the bathroom without a word.
"Whew! That was close," said Simon. Then he turned on Morris. In his sternest voice possible -- which sounded about as threatening as a barking puppy -- he reproached Morris. "You have got to stop doing this!"
"I'll do what I like, because YOU'RE MY BITCH!" replied Morris as he playfully slapped Simon on both cheeks. "BITCH!" Simon smiled and gave Morris a brief kiss on the cheek before leaving the bathroom. His mind on Morris, he ran right into the man standing before him. Jerked from his reverie, Simon found himself face to face with certain death.
His father, Rev. Eric Camden, stared at his son, anger in his eyes. "Give me the keys, and come with me. Now."
Authors: Tiger220, sophronia, Prince_Bacchus, Cowshark, Hoedogg, Mr. Hairy
Authors' Note: As you can see, this fic is the work of many people. It's a running story where each person posts part of it and leaves it unfinished so that the next person can play along. The story is currently being worked on at televisionwithoutpity.com, so feel free to come on over and add your own piece.
Disclaimer: We don't own the characters or anything else (Brenda Hampton, et al do), but if we did, things might be better…
*********
Chapter 3:
"Uhhh..umm...well..." Simon struggled for something to say to his teacher, but nothing would come out. Simon's prayers were answered when the bell rang, releasing him from this highly uncomfortable moment.
With a cocky smile and tilt of his head, Simon jumped from his chair and followed his classmates out the door. He hadn't made it more than three feet before Davey Nichols stopped him.
"Hey, Simon man, you got any gum..." he said, his eyes shifting back and forth. What was with this kid and gum?? Day in and day out Davey would stop and ask for bubble gum. "Well," Simon thought to himself, "at least it's not cigarettes. Or coffee. That crap will stunt your growth.."
Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his last stick of Big Red. The pockets were kind of tight (hell, the pants were kind of tight) and the car keys came out with the gum and fell to the floor.
Simon bent down to pick up the keys, but before he could reach them, a hand swooped in and grabbed them away. Looking up, Simon realized that the hand belonged to Mike, Morris's friend who'd given him the spiked punch at the party.
"Hey!" Simon yelled. "Give those back!"
Mike laughed and fired the keys to his friend Tom, who took off down the hall. Simon frantically ran after him, but Tom had a head start. Other kids heading for their classes kept getting in the way. Simon finally got close enough to grab at Tom's shirt sleeve as he turned to go down the staircase.
Holding the keys above Simon's head, Tom spotted Morris at the bottom of the stairs. "Morris!" he shouted, and flung the keys down just as Morris looked up. With his athletic reflexes, Morris caught the keys easily. Then he looked up again, and seeing Simon, realized who was the victim in this game of keep-away. A smile spread across his face, and he held the keys up for Simon to see.
Relieved, Simon thundered down the stairs. But just as he stretched out his hand to take the keys, Morris closed them in his palm, whirled and took off in the opposite direction. For a second, Simon was too shocked to react as Morris sped down the hallway, smirking at him over his shoulder. Then he sprinted down the hallway in desperate pursuit.
Simon darted around the corner, looking from one side to the other for Morris. He saw the door to the bathroom swinging open and shut, and headed in. He looked around and couldn't see anyone. Just then, everything went dark as a pair of hands passed over his face. He shook his head and smirked.
"Give me my keys back."
"Just like that? Too easy."
"Getting me back?"
"Maybe." Simon peeled MOrris's hands off his eyes and turned around, crossing his arms.
"Okay. Hand 'em over."
"Come and get them."
"Come on, Morris, I'm having a day that's about ten notches above David Lynch on the creepy scale. I don't need this." Morris just shrugged and stood there. "You are such an asshole," Simon said. He smirked and held out his hand. "Come on."
Morris sauntered over until he was about an inch from Simon's face. "Okay. But what do I get?" Simon just smirked, fully amused. "I knew you'd be too..." Morris didn't finish. He felt a tug on his jacket and a preacher boy's lips on his.
Simon kissed Morris hard, running his fingers through his pale hair. He paused, and moved his hand to Morris' arm, caressing his bicep, and running his fingernail across the cotton-enclosed skin. The older boy shivered, and pressed closer to Simon. Simon took this opportunity to move his hand further downward, and attempted to capture the keys from his hand.
Morris pulled back, keys firmly in his grasp. "Sneaky."
Simon waggled his eyebrows. "I have to try."
"Come and get 'em." Morris grinned, and shoved the keys down the front of his jeans.
"You know you're insane, right?"
Morris undid the top button of the fly. Simon blushed, and started to walk towards him.
But then the bathroom door started to open...
"What the hell's going on in here, boys?" said Tom as he burst through the bathroom door.
In a panic, Simon improvised. "He flushed my keys! They went down the toilet," he whined convincingly. He pointed at a stall to distract Tom while Morris quickly rebuttoned his pants.
Tom stared at the stall in disbelief for a moment, then turned to Morris with a look of admiration and high-fived him. He then laughed tauntingly as he turned around and exited the bathroom without a word.
"Whew! That was close," said Simon. Then he turned on Morris. In his sternest voice possible -- which sounded about as threatening as a barking puppy -- he reproached Morris. "You have got to stop doing this!"
"I'll do what I like, because YOU'RE MY BITCH!" replied Morris as he playfully slapped Simon on both cheeks. "BITCH!" Simon smiled and gave Morris a brief kiss on the cheek before leaving the bathroom. His mind on Morris, he ran right into the man standing before him. Jerked from his reverie, Simon found himself face to face with certain death.
His father, Rev. Eric Camden, stared at his son, anger in his eyes. "Give me the keys, and come with me. Now."