Various Drabbles (Slash/Femslash/Het/Gen) [Ranging from PG to R]

Vandalizing ways of Life [Slash]

A/N

SLASH. Rated PG/almost-PG-13 for excessive-teenage-boy-cursing. Drabbles are strictly that and will never be continued or pursued.

"The robbed that smiles, steals something from the thief." ~William Shakespeare

Vandalizing ways of Life

“Let me get this straight…you’re the one going around vandalizing school property with compliments?”

“Vandalizing,” Sean scoffed. “Hardly.”

Matthew Charles had been trolling around the campus after dark, as per his Head Master father had requested, to hopefully find out who was spray painting odd messages on school property. All over the dorms, students would wake up to find sayings like ‘today’s a new day’ or ‘smile like you mean it’ spay painted or drawn to the main buildings, causing quite a stir each morning.

It was a weird situation to deal with t was vandalizing, yes, but what were the procedures for positive vandalizing? It wasn’t profanity, the students argued, they should just let well enough alone. But Head Master Charles wouldn’t leave well enough alone ooligans with spraypaint cans n his campus? He wouldn’t stand for it. No, this boy would be taken down and it would be done quietly.

Hence, Matthew got stuck with the job.

So, here he was, three weeks into patrolling the campus and only getting two hours of sleep a night, always managing to miss the culprit, when he came across something—the sound of a can hitting the cement.

And that was it.

He was running down the hall, towards the dorm blocks H-J, cursing as his blond hair swirled in his face against the cool autumn wind. His feet protested weakly, letting him know he shouldn’t have skipped lunch. Letting him know he should probably sleep more than fourteen hours in a combined week.

When I find out who’s been doing this, I’m going to make their lives hell, he thought bitterly. See how they like lack of sleep and—

Matthew raced around the corner, finally catching the culprit as he gathered everything into his ratty backpack.

The blond froze.

“Oh,” Matthew uttered, almost frozen. “You don’t go here.”

The kid with dark, greasy hair smirked. “No shit, Sherlock, thought they at least taught you common sense at this fancy smancy of yours.”

And that pretty much brings them back to the present.

Matthew stammered a few times, looking ready to blow a blood vessel. This is the reason he’s been a walking zombie, lately? Because this—this dirty looking delinquent, thought he was being clever? Oh fucking hell almighty. “You,” He hissed. “You!”

“Whoa, Matthew, calm down, you look like you’re gonna have an aneurism...”

“What? How the fuck do you know my name, creep?”

“Well…”

“What the fuck kinda game are you trying to play? Come on campus and spray paint the walls? You stealing shit, too?”

“No, I—”

“And, what, you’re stalking me? Stalking my father, maybe? Plan on robbing us blin—”

“Whoa! You need to stop jumping to conclusions. And—and keep it down, will-ya? Don’t wanna wake the entire campus. Just…” He gestured over his shoulder, pulling his kelly green backpack off the ground. “Come with me and I’ll explain everything. Calmly.”