OLIVE ♥ (readybrekglow) wrote in knees_up,

Title: umm….
Pairing: Carl/Stan
Genre: Schoolboy
Rating: S; sexual situations in a public place
Notes: I’ve taken quite a while to finish this part, but it is rather long, so I guess that’s alright. Oh, and I’ve got a Didz/Carl/Stan PWP in the works and I need a beta. Anyone up for it?

            “Oi Carl. Carl! Get up you lazy bastard!” Didz’s obnoxious voice was invading Anthony’s ears and a hand continuously prodded at his side. “Fuck man, that hurts.” He mumbled, pushing down the blankets on the bed and swatting at Didz.
            “Hey, you’re not Carl.” Didz said rather stupidly. “Where’s he at then?”
            Carl, who was currently nestled against Anthony’s body underneath the heap of blankets revealed himself, his eyes still puffy from sleep.
            “Well Carl,” Didz said chuckling. “Didn’t waist much time seducing him, did you? What’s it been now, two days?”
            “One actually.” Anthony spoke up. “After that night in your room we…uh, yeah.”
            “Thanks for clarifying that Stan.” Carl rolled his eyes at him jokingly.
            “Anyhow,” Didz continued. “You two had better get up, seeing how classes are starting in twenty-five minutes.”
            “Fuck, you serious?” Carl asked groaning.
            “Dead.” He turned to address Anthony. “Now Stan, do you know where you’re going?”
            “No, not exactly.”
            “Well, what have you got first period?”
            “Yeah, with who?”
            “Dunno, got my schedule around here somewhere…” he went to stand, but was halted by Carl’s hand oh his shoulder. “What do you want man?”
            “Might be best if you didn’t walk around naked, that’s all.” Carl replied, smirking when he saw Anthony’s cheeks redden. “It doesn’t really matter, because you’re in the same class as me and Didz.”
            “Alright.” Didz made his way towards the door. “Well, I’m off. I’ll see you guys in a few minutes, yeah?”
            “Yeah.” Carl repeated. He bid a final farewell to Didz, shutting his eyes at the sound of the door being closed, hoping that the day might miraculously change if he thought about it enough. After several minutes of deep thought, and no foreseeable result, he stopped and opened his eyes, meeting Anthony’s amused gaze. “What?”
            “Oh nothing, you just looked cute right then, that’s all.” He replied, brushing Carl’s fringe away from in front of his eyes.
            “Poof.” He grinned at Anthony, his features full of wild burning fire.
            “Yeah, well you like it.” Anthony retorted. “And if I’m not mistaken, it was you who put the moves on me the other night. So you’re the poof. Whatever that means.”
            “I wouldn’t be taking boyo. I clearly remember you seducing me.”
            “You sure about that?” Anthony challenged.
            “Extremely sure.” Carl slithered his way into Anthony’s lap and pinned his wrists above his head. He rocked his hips down lightly, grinding his erection into Anthony’s own. “Any further denial on the subject?”
            Anthony shook his and groaned, letting the pleasure wash through his now fully awake body. He was enjoying this- fuck, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t- but the two of them had more important issues to attend to. For example, the fact that they were to be sitting behind a desk fifteen minutes from now and neither of them had any clothes on. And what would happen is they were late? Oh no, he didn’t want to think about that. Everyone would be sure to be looking at them, and then they’d know. How could they not when they saw Anthony’s rustled hair, Carl’s gleaming, mischievous eyes, the chemistry, the warmth. They’d definitely know. Not that he was ashamed, far from that (Carl was one hell of a catch) - but he was sure people here weren’t going to be all that accepting. ‘Alright, that’s the last time I’m thinking during sex.’
            “Carl,” he panted. “Carl stop, we have to get ready.”
            “No we don’t.” H reached down and grasped him properly, giving short hard tugs on Anthony’s erection.
            “Yes we do. Now get off.” Anthony said, more serious now.
            “Fine, fine. Whatever you want your majesty.” Carl stood, still hard and wanting.
            “We’ll make up for it tonight.” Anthony promised.
            “Uh-huh. Well, just remember, you’re going to pay for that later.”
            “What do you mean by ‘later’?”
            “You’ll know when it happens.” Was Carl’s smug reply.
            They proceeded to get ready, hastily throwing on pants and shirts, draping ties loosely around their necks which were to be done up later, grabbing notebooks and scurrying out the door. Anthony hurried Carl up, hoping they would make it to their class on time. As he watched Carl weed his way the crowded hall, Anthony spoke, attempting to spark a conversation: “So, what’s it like at private school?”
            “Same as any school really, ‘cept we’re expected to wear uniforms and most of the blokes here are wankers.”
            “What’s a wanker?” In typical American fashion, Anthony nearly killed the word. This would have been rather amusing to Carl had he not just bumped into a burly boy who called him a ‘fairy’ and rudely pushed him out of the way.
            “Shove off.” Carl hissed. Trying his turn at subtlety, he gave the boy a kick in the shin before he continued on with Anthony. Their little brawl had been lost within the crowd. “That,” he continued. “was a wanker.”
            Anthony laughed, eyes cast down as they made their way through the school. “Very impressive Mr. Barat, I had no idea you were such a skilled fighter.”
            “Oh, you crack me up Anthony. Can’t you just hear me laughing?” Carl’s tone was nearly as sarcastic as Anthony’s had been.
            “Whatever man. Hey, how long till we get there?”

            “We should be there in a second. Yeah, see, the room’s right-” the chime of the bell interrupted him; “here.” Carl opened the door cautiously and gestured Anthony over with a wave of his hand.
            “Ah, late are we Mr. Barat? Hope this won’t be a permanent arrangement as it was last year.” The teacher spoke over his book from where he sat at the front of the class.
            “No, sir.” Carl replied. “But actually, I had to show the American how to get here.”
            “Does this American have a name?”
             Anthony poked his head in and raised his hand in a bleak wave. “That’s me; Anthony Rossomando.”
            “So now Mr. Barat, it’s not only you who is late, you cause Mr. Rossa, Rossee-”
            “Rossomando.” Anthony helped.
            “Yes, thank you. Mr. Rossomando is late now too.”
            “Yes sir, I realise that but…”
            “And,” he continued; “and he does not seem to know the school rules; his tie is not tied and his hair is far too long for my liking.”
            “Dude!” Anthony protested. “I am not cutting my hair. Besides, I don’t give a damn about what you like.” Glancing over at Carl he saw an obvious look of horror written all over his face, and then he remembered. “Oh, right, sir.” He added hopelessly.
            “He also has quite a bad attitude and a horrendous vocabulary.”
            “I’m aware of that sir. If you give me a few minutes I can advise him of the rules and get him sorted out.” Carl proposed.
            “Right then, I insist you do.”
             Carl made a beeline towards a long table at the back of the class, Anthony followed closely behind him, smiling sweetly at everyone who gave him a dirty look. Alright, so maybe he had been worrying a tad much before, but at least now he was enjoying himself. He mouthed a silent hey to Did when he walked by him in the final row of desks, then went to sit next to a still slightly shocked Carl.
            “Are you fucking mad?” Carl whispered harshly.
            “Uh, last time I checked no.” Anthony replied sarcastically, throwing his notebook on the table alongside Carl’s.
            “Seriously Anthony, he’s going to be your teacher for the semester, so you might as well show him so respect, even if he is a right bastard.”
            “Alright, I’ll be a goody two shoes like you then, shall I?”
            “That’s not what I’m saying-”
            “Well what are you saying then?” Anthony said far louder than he had meant to.
            “What I’m saying is you’re being an arse right now and I think I need to do something about it.”
            “What, you going to read me the school rules or-” Anthony broke off, his mouth opening in shock when he felt Carl’s hand creep up his leg to the inside of his thigh. “What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed.
            “Payback.” Carl uttered the word breathlessly as he continued to move his hand up Anthony’s leg. Reaching his crotch, he drew little circles on the bulge that was beginning to form there, relishing the hitch of breath this caused. He palmed him through his trousers before pulling down the zip and reaching inside to grasp him tightly, appreciating that Anthony had failed to put on boxers this morning.
            “Carl!” Anthony squeaked, eyes wide with shock and cheeks blushing bright red. “Carl, cut it out. Someone’s going to see.”
            “No they won’t, the table’s blocking their view.” Carl continued to stroke him, long pumps from the base to the tip, then slipping his finger over the head, he swirls his thumb in the pre-come that has begun to accumulate there. Anthony fought the urge to throw his head back and moan, and instead decided on biting his lip and letting his eyes flutter shut with pleasure.
             This was definitely the most obscene thing he’d ever done, and fuck, was he ever liking it. The thrill of possibly being caught caused a hum of arousal to spur deep in his stomach, adding on to the already desperate pressure. Carl managed a twist of his wrist even in the confining space of Anthony’s trousers causing his eyes to shoot open and a loud ‘fuck´ to roll off of his now parted lips. At the front of the class the teacher stopped his lesson to confront them.
            “Boys.” He began warningly.
            Anthony’s head spun. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
            “Yes.” Carl replied calmly, still rubbing his hand along Anthony’s hard cock, slower now, trying to draw out the pleasure. Bastard.
            “Try and keep quiet.” Anthony breathed an inner sigh of relief. As much as the idea of being caught was turning him on, he didn’t want to have to explain why Carl was fisting him in his trousers in the middle of English class. “Am I clear?”
            “Say yes.” Carl whispered between clenched teeth.
            Carl squeezed him hard and dragged his fist down abruptly.
            “Yes, sir.” Anthony moaned.
            “Good.” He continued on with his lesson.
             Carl resumed his stroking, clenching as he brought his fist up and down repeatedly, desperate to get him off. “Are you close?” he whispered hot into Anthony’s ear.
            “Of, fuck yes.” He bit his lip hard, the metallic taste of blood spilling into his mouth as he threw his head back and rocked his hips of to meet Carl’s hand.
            “Then let go.”
            Oh, how Anthony did. His mouth opened in a silent cry as his eyes screwed shut, his whole body taught as pleasure wracked through, shaking him. He thrust his hips one final time before slouching down in the chair, his energy drained. Alright, it was official; Carl was as good with his hand as he was with his mouth.

            “Fuck man.” He breathed, body still convulsing involuntarily.
             Carl drew his hand out and buttoned Anthony’s pants. He leaned back in his chair, smirking devilishly at himself. They stayed like that for a few minute; Anthony with his eyes closed, Carl seemingly listening to the lesson, both looking far too innocent.
            “Hey Carl?” Anthony asked, breaking the silence.
            “Yeah Stan.”
            “I think I love it here.”

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