Predictability

The text came to him halfway through math class.

It was odd, because those who had his number knew he was in class right now, and couldn't possibly read, let alone answer, any sort of text message. Those who might not care about this fact were also, thankfully, in class, and so unable to annoy him.

And yet his hip pocket was buzzing insistently

So, with great caution and extreme nervousness, David Jacobs quietly, quietly slipped his phone out of his pocket and quickly shoved it beneath the desk.

A quick glance upward told him he was still safe.

Slowly, willing it all the while not to squeak, not to squeak, not to squeak, he opened his phone gently and clicked the "read" button.

"From: Jack To: Me

meet me in hall NOW!"

Oh, crap.

On the one hand, Jack might be in serious trouble. He might need his boyfriend desperately, because maybe his father was dead or he was lying somewhere in a pool of blood or he was going to be violently sick---

On the other hand, Jack might need his boyfriend desperately for more physical demands.

What to do ...

There was nothing for it, really. He'd have to see what was going on or he'd wonder about it the entire class and miss the lesson anyway.

"Dr. A?" He called out, raising his hand. Said teacher turned and nodded. "I, ah, don't feel well. May I go down to the nurse?" Oh, he had just lied to a teacher, and about the nurse, too. What if they found out he wasn't going to the nurse? What if they called to check and she said she had never gotten a Jacobs, David, and they'd have to call his parents to see if he had gone home and his mother would tell them he hadn't and--

Jack, this had better be worth it.

Grabbing the pass and nodding, David exited out into the hall, glancing around as the door shut behind him. "'Meet me in the hall' is well to say, but what hall, Jack, you idiot, there's about twelve different ones in the school--"

"Psst!"

David turned to see a hand sticking out of the janitor's closet, frantically beckoning him. "Jack. Jack. Jack, no." David said sternly to the hand. Jack did not respond verbally, although the beckoning did indeed become more persistent. "Jack, I am not skipping class simply because you feel a little lonely."

No response.

"Jack Kelly, I swear--" David muttered, yanking open the door, intent on, do or die, making the boy see his way. This was not the first class Jack had skipped, and David worried for his grades.

The hand promptly ceased its beckoning and Jack, with a grin, grabbed the front of David's shirt.

"Ja-ack--" David's voice was a whine of protest, one that was begging to be persuaded to break the rules (at least, that was how Jack chose to interpret it.)

"Ten minutes. At the most." Jack said, shutting the door. "They won't miss ya, right? Because you told them you needed the nurse, right?" He grinned in the semi-darkness. "You're too predictable, Davey."

Jack felt the familiar thrill as David pressed his lips against his. "Mm not," he said, breaking away for a moment before resuming.

Yes, you are, Jack thought, grinning as he leaned in. But that's what makes it so much fun.

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