Hijack Smut Book

Secret Lovers

It's cold in the drama lab. Empty classrooms tend to be. After seven-thirty, when the drama kids end practice and the basketball players go home, when the lights turn off hallway by hallway. And the lights go off in blocks, in louds chinks that echo across the building. Buzzy fluorescents fade out and that clear, blue darkness eats the halls. The windows are tinted glass. The blinds are bent and never work.

That's why they go to the drama lab. One of the few classrooms that faces the courtyard and not the parking lot. No one will look up from the plastic picnic tables and the half-dying trees. No one will look up and see. Because no one's there. Every night, the school is locked from the outside. And thanks to Jack, thanks to sweet asskissing Jack, they have a key.

Mr. Black is a bastard. But Jack's a bastard, too, so they get along. He cleans the drama teacher's classroom every afternoon and helps him grade papers. A student grading papers? Probably against the rules. But fuck it, Mr. Black hates teaching and Jack will do anything for that key. He finally handed it over last week. Small, rusted, and dangling from a keychain he bought in Miami Beach.

"Don't lose it, Overland."

"No, sir." God, that key felt good. So heavy in his hands.

Black gathered up his briefcase, his oversized jacket. Looked more like a detective than a teacher, a really, really shady detective. "And make sure to lock up after you finish wiping down the blackboards. Oh and take out the trash, too. I can't have ants swarming my classroom. This is a place of art, you know, not a garbage can."

"Yes, sir. I'll clean every nook and cranny, I'll lick the floor if I have to."

Silence. The sound of footsteps banging against tile. The muffled voice of an intercom. Black narrowed his eyes, smiling in his typical, creepy way. "You're an odd one, Overland. But you have my thanks. See you in class tomorrow. Oh, and don't forget your Midsummer's Night Dream project is due soon. Haddock is your partner, no?"

"Yes, sir, he is." Jack sat on the edge of the blackboard, the metal part that sticks out like a cheap ass windowsill. Mr. Black has a habit of saying goodbye but never leaving.

"So what are you two planning to do? A rewrite of the play? Or maybe something art related? Haddock is quite good at drawing, or so I've heard."

"Actually, we're making a movie. We've got some costumes and I'm not too shabby at video editing."

He nodded once, twice, three times. "Good. Good to hear. Very unique. You'll just need to find yourself some young ladies to play Hermia and Helena."

Jack slid his fingers over the chalk dust, trying not to laugh. "Yeah, something like that."

"That's very good. Yes, a great idea." He glanced at the clock. Big and round and broken for many years. "Well, I really should go now. Have to pick my daughter up from aftercare and visit the post office... and I'll just see you tomorrow, then, Overland. Don't burn the school down."

His long legs make him look like a ghost. Jack popped his head into the hallway, the grin he'd been fighting back spread all over his face. "Wasn't planning on it, sir! You have a good evening, sir! See you tomorrow!"

He bounced back into the classroom, pulling the door shut. "Fuck yeah! This room is mine!"

And then he broke out into celebratory dance moves. Shitty, white boy moves that dropped him low to the floor and grinded him against the podium. Bent over, ass in the air, he pretended the podium was Hiccup. It was hard enough to be Hic. Tall enough, stiff enough.

"Oh yeah, Hicky, you're rock solid today. You're so turned on, I wish I could just shove you up my ass."

Jack stood back up, slowly. Eyebrows knitted in a total what-the-actual-fuck face. Getting it on with a podium? Really? No asshole is that big. And Jack's a huge asshole, an enormous one. But he didn't want to take an embarrassing trip to the emergency room, so he started cleaning the blackboards.