A/N: I'm getting seriously into slash. It's good. So, I started writing it.

Disclaimer: It's not mine.

Warren hated Tuesdays.

On Tuesdays, Will Stronghold wore muscle shirts, and Warren could barely keep down the flames bubbling in his stomach. It took every fiber of his being not to throw the son of the Commander and Jetstream across the lunch table and fuck the innocence right out of him. A smirk played with his lips as he imagined doing just that. His eyes darkened and he licked his full lips.

"Good pudding?" He was snapped out of his thoughts by the very star of them sliding in to the seat across from him.

"What do you want, Stronghold?" Warren hissed, smoke curling around his worlds.

"Jeeze Warren. Relax." Will said, smiling his goofy, yet undeniably sexy smile. His hands shot out to grab his apple juice, and Warren jumped at the sudden movement.

"Hey, are you okay?!" His face twisted in to a mask of concern. Warren nodded and stood, unable to speak.

He stalked in to the hall, angry at his own weakness, and angry that the son of his father's enemy could make him go weak in the knees.

"Warren!" Will said, coming into the deserted hallway. "Warren, seriously man, what's wrong?" Will asked again, cornering him so he couldn't run.

"GO AWAY!" Warren said thickly, shoving Will away. On instinct, Will pinned him to the wall by his shoulders so hard, it ached. He could feel his jeans tightening as delicious pain radiated from his upper body.

"Talk to me!" Will said forcefully, emphasizing his words with another shove.

"I CAN'T!" He exploded, bursting into hot flames. Will didn't even flinch.

"Yes you can! You can talk to me!" Warren shook his head, his long hair flying.

"NO. I can't control myself around you!" He said through gritted teeth. He grabbed Will by the shoulders and flipped their position, smashing their lips together.

Will's eyes widened as Warren's hot tongue ran across his lower lip, begging for entrance. His mind raced as he opened his lips ever so slightly to that Warren would have to work to gain the sweet insides. If Will thought it was warm before, it was now burning hot, so white hot he couldn't see anything but Warren's face in front of him. A groan escaped the bottom of his throat, and he moved his hands frantically, wanting them everywhere at once.

Warren pulled away and smirked at him, his eyes returning to their normal color.

"I can't talk to you on Tuesdays." He said, resting his forehead against Will's and closing his eyes against the torrent of emotions flowing through his body. His erection strained against his jeans.

"I know." Will whispered, not wanting to ruin the moment. "I knew the muscle shirts would break you eventually."

Warren's eyes opened wide, staring at Will's goofy smirk.