OLIVE ♥ (readybrekglow) wrote in knees_up,
OLIVE ♥
readybrekglow
knees_up

Schoolboy fic chap 7/?

Pairing: Carl/Stan
Genre: Schoolboy
Notes:  I promise I’ll make the next bit far less err…depressing; I’ve been having a bad week and this is what came out of it. I'll check for any flaws in the morning, I'm too tired to do so now.
 
            The rest of the day had dragged on slowly; seconds turned into minutes, minutes into hours, though Anthony was quite sure the day couldn’t keep going longer considering the fact that the day had been shortened (first day of second semester and all). He’d managed to be late for two classes in a row, the idea of such a thing causing Carl quite a lot of confusion.
 
            “Right, so you were late twice?” Carl asked as the two walked down the hallway to their next class.
 
            “Yeah, I was.” Anthony said, giggling.
 
            “How’d that happen, then?”
 
            “Dude, this school is huge! It’s all like, you know…big.”
 
            “Anthony, the two lessons were beside each other and I walked you to the first one!”
 
            “Umm, yeah, well then I’m inco…incoopa…incopo…Carl, what’s that word?” Anthony asked, looking quite flustered.
 
            “Incompetent?” Carl suggested.
 
            “Exactly. I’m uncooperative.” He exclaimed.
 
            “Err, Stan, you mean incompetent?”
 
            “Oh you crazy British boy, quit using all your mental trickery upon me.” So he could say ‘mental trickery’ but not ‘incompetent’? Something was up.
 
            “Anthony, are you high?” Carl asked; question that was not really worth answering if Anthony’s bloodshot eyes and horrible smell were anything to go by.
 
            “I miiiiiiiight be.” He slurred out.
 
            “And is that why you were late?”
 
            “It maaaaaaaaay be.” He slung his arm over Carl’s shoulder as they walked, grin plastered across his face from ear to ear.
 
            “You do know that this is only your first day of school, don’t you? And already you’ve found the dealers.” Carl looked at Anthony somewhat shocked. His demeanor then changed. “Ah well, you learned faster than me! Got any left, then?”
 
            “Nope, sorry Carl. It’s all gone. Kept it all for myself.” And then he laughed in that way that made Carl laugh as well. And yeah, maybe Carl would forgive him for being an inconsiderate bastard. Besides, at least the day would be more interesting.
 
            “Well Stanthony, I may have to punish you later when we get back. Give you a good spanking.” Carl said looking quite devilish.
 
            “Oh yeah?” Anthony asked.
 
            “Yeah” Carl repeated.
 
            “Well I think you calling me Stanthony was punish enough. What the fuck kind of name is that?”
 
            “It’s your name, Barat style.”
 
            “Stupid: that’s your name Anthony style.”
 
            “Hey!” Carl shoved him. “That was mean you little bugger!”
 
            “Yeah, oh well. You love me still.” Anthony simply smiled.
 
            “That may be true, but you shouldn’t act like such an arse.” Carl shrugged Anthony’s arm off his shoulder and took hold of his hand, tugging at him. “Come on. If we don’t hurry you’ll be late for another lesson.”
 
            Anthony trotted along side Carl, gladly letting himself be dragged around. He didn’t mind at all, this way he didn’t have to think, just move his legs and enjoy the fuzzy feeling that was still washing over his brain. He was actually quite looking forward to the next class, not only because it was last lesson, but because it was something he was good at: music. Not that he wanted to impress people or anything, he just…well, maybe that was it. A sharp tug at his wrist brought him back to reality. Stepping through the door, Anthony –by aid of Carl’s harshly pulling hand- sat down in the second row of the elaborate looking music room.
 
             Somewhere in the back of his mind, Anthony was vaguely aware that the teacher was speaking and that the entire class of students was listening intently, but he wasn’t bothered with that; he had other things on his mind. Like the way Carl’s mouth was slightly open and pouting or how his fringe crept over his brightly shinning eyes he was just so beautiful. ‘He’s so fucking beautiful, but he still wants me of all people.’  Yes, there were far more important things to Anthony at the moment, the most important of which was the overwhelming urge to grab Carl, throw him up against a wall and kiss him, hard. Instead, for Carl’s own sanity, he decided on running his hand up Carl’s thigh.
 
             As Anthony had expected, Carl’s eyes shot over to his and his voice hissed out in the small room. “What the fuck Stan?” He swatted Anthony’s hand away harshly. “Not now.”
 
            “But Carl, I want to…” Then people were moving, everyone stood and noise began to fill the room. Carl too was standing, his hand outstretched to Anthony. “What’s happening?” he asked while grasping Carl’s hand and joining him.
 
            “Break. ‘Bout fucking time.” Carl muttered as he walked over to a far corner in the room; Anthony followed him as usual. “Stupid teacher can talk for hours.”
 
             Had it really been that long? To Anthony it had only felt as though a few minutes had gone by, but then again, time always seemed to fly when Carl was around. Then Anthony’s mind lit up: it was a break then, wasn’t it? He could definitely think of many things to do to Carl during the next short while, a few of which were causing his pant’s to become quite constricting.  Carl was now sitting behind the drum set, banging away loudly and trying to…well, Anthony wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to do, he did look cute though. Walking over to him, Anthony gently crept up behind Carl then, when the moment was right, he lunged out and began tickling him fiercely. Carl jump-spun around and emitted a loud squeaking noise as he lost control of the drum sticks, flinging them towards the ground; they bounced and hit an unsuspecting boy in the shin. Anthony heard the boy begin to curse Carl, but he didn’t care, he was too busy trying to keep his sides from splitting with laughter. Carl however, was not very impressed. He scowled at Anthony from were he was still sitting.
 
            “Anthony really,” he began in a harsh, but whispered tone; “you shouldn’t do that. People are going to know.”
 
            “Yeah, well,” Anthony dragged Carl to his feet and brought his hand up to brush across Carl’s cheek; “do we really care?”
 
            “Yes,” Carl said, stepping away from the contact; “I do. And besides Stan, you’re stoned, and I don’t really think you’re making the best of decisions at the moment.”

            “I’m sober enough to know what I’m doing Carl. And you like me, don’t you?” A rage had begun to edge into Anthony’s voice.
 
            “No, that’s not it, ‘cos I do, it’s just…”
 
            “Then let me show you.” Anthony said, gentler this time.
 
            “Show me wh-” Carl was cut off as Anthony closed the gap between them and pressed his mouth to Carl’s. Urging Carl to open his mouth, Anthony traced his bottom lip with his tongue. Carl slowly opened his mouth, but then remembering where he was, decided the opposite and shoved Anthony off of him brutally, causing him to trip and slam to the ground.
 
            “Stan, I’m sorry. I didn’t-” Carl was cut off again, only this time with words laced in anger.
 
            “The hell you didn’t.” Anthony was shaking, his eyes cold and threatening to burst into tears. He stood and made a beeline for the door, racing down the hallway and out of Carl’s sight.
 
            “Fuck,” Carl cursed as he walked over to the teacher. He stood at her desk attempting as best he could to wait patiently for her to notice him. Amidst all the racket she paid not attention to him, so Carl ever so quietly cleared his throat. Her body suddenly turned to face him.
 
            “Miss,” he asked politely; “can I go and check on Anthony? He just left.”
 
            “Where has he gone Mr. Barat?”
 
            “I think he’s ill Miss, he left rather suddenly.” He replied smoothly.
 
            “Alright. There’s not the much time left anyhow.”
 
            “Thank you.” He called out as he left, urgently trying to find Anthony. Jogging through the corridors, Carl kept an eye out for anyone who might have spotted Anthony. As he rounded a corner, Carl happened to stumble upon one of these people.
 
            “Gary,” he said quickly; “have you seen Anthony? I really need to find him.”
 
            “Sorry Carl, I don’t know who that is, and I definitely haven’t seen him.” Gary replied apologetically.
 
            “S’alright. Listen, I’ve got to go now. I’ll see you around, yeah?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just continued on his frantic search. Attempting to calm his racing mind, Cark began to think of where he himself would go if he had been Anthony. Not their room, that was too obvious. And outside was far too public. Anthony didn’t really know anyone besides him and Didz, and he was certain that Anthony was not about to go to Didz for consolation. Where then…Then it hit him: the toilettes.
 
             Moving as fast as he could, Carl headed to where he hoped Anthony had hid himself. Upon reaching the said place, Carl took a deep breath before pushing the door open cautiously.
 
            “Stan? Anthony, are you in here?”
 
            Carl could hear little whimpers coming from the stall at the far end. He slowly walked over and tried to push it open; it was locked.
 
            “Stan, I’m really sorry. Can you please open the door?”
 
            “But you…you do-don’t re-really like me.” Anthony sobbed, the sound causing Carl to feel guiltier than he already was.
 
            “Yes I do Stan. I was just…scared. I don’t want people to say things about us.”
 
            “So you’re embarrassed of being with me? Is that it?” Anthony only cried harder.
 
            “No I just…Can you please let me in Stan?”
 
            “No.”
 
            “Well why not?”
 
            “You can’t see me like this.”
 
            “Stan,” Carl laughed lightly; “don’t act like such a girl. I don’t care if you’ve cried.”
 
            “No, that’s not it. I…Carl, believe me, you don’t want to see.”
 
            “I don’t care. Let me in.”
 
            Carl heard Anthony shifting, followed by the click of the stall door being unlocked. Carl pushed the door open and slipped inside. Looking down into Anthony’s eyes, Carl smiled softly.
 
            “Anthony, you look fine.”
 
            “Carl….Carl, it’s not that…” Anthony sniffled, eyes cast down. His knees were drawn to his chest and his arms were wrapped around them.
 
            “Well then what is it?”
 
            “Carl,” Anthony cried even harder now; “I really, re-really d-don’t wa-want you to know.”
 
            “How can I help you if you won’t let me? Are you still mad about before?”
 
            “Uh-huh. Not really though. But, it’s not just that.”
 
            “Then what?”
 
            “Carl, I don’t want…”
 
            “Anthony, can you at least give me a hint so I can even remotely know what the hell you’re on about? Come on, I need something to work with…” Carl trailed off, his eyes suddenly catching sight of something dripping off Anthony’s fingertip. “Stan,” he began, his heart suddenly racing; “what did you do?”
 
            “Carl, I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to know. I was just so mad, but now I’ve made everything worse and I just don’t know what else I can do. Please Carl, please don’t tell anyone. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” Anthony was weeping, his whole body shaking as he repeated himself over and over.
 
            “Anthony, show me now.” Carl said frantically as he reached over and pried Anthony’s hands from where they were wrapped around himself. He flipped them over and nearly…oh god.
 
            Scarlet slashes lined Anthony’s left arm from wrist to inner elbow, the hatred he’d felt towards Carl a few moments ago unleashed on himself. The blood ran from Anthony’s arm, down to his palm, and was smudged all over his white shirt. A particular bad gouge on his wrist was still bleeding steadily and dripping down onto the tile of the floor. This was bad. Carl needed to get him out of there now.
 
            “Anthony…” Carl stuttered, at a loss for words. “Get up. Get up now you need to get the fuck up now!”
 
 
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