A/N: As much as I wanted to write a Gary/Petey fic, this idea just popped in my head. And Derby/Kirby is just as good. So enjoy the smut.

Checkmate: Set up the pieces

He couldn't believe it. He really, truly, couldn't believe it. It was impossible; it could never happen. Or at least, that's what Kirby thought. The brown-haired teen shivered as a cold breeze flew across the campus. And this time, he didn't have a tall blonde to curl up against.

Sniffling and wiping his tear-streaked face on his sweater, Kirby started back towards the dorms. He felt bare without Trent walking alongside him. But now, hr doubted he would ever have another conversation with the bully again. He had fucked up; big time.

It's not like he had said anything that Trent didn't already know. The other teen took the statements as a harsh blow. Though, Kirby thought, he didn't have to be so blunt about it. But Trent was asking for trouble when he sent the small jock on yet another trip around town to look for some kind of present. And, as Trent clarified, it 'couldn't be a seashell from the beach. It has to be nice'.

Kirby bristled, remembering the scenario.

The blonde didn't only care about material things, he knew. Sometimes the bully could be quite affectionate. Kirby recalled the time Trent had won him a charm bracelet at the crane game in the carnival. It might have been a little girly, but the jock treasured the accessory all the same.

Not now, though. Kirby felt like throwing the damned thing off a boat in the middle of the ocean. He had searched through all the stores in Bullworth for a nice gift to satisfy Trent's demands. But he found nothing worth buying, and nothing his companion would appreciate.

The chocolate eyed boy had had just about enough of his partner's constant requests. He drew the line when he came back to Trent, who was waiting in the large space under the dock near the Prep's old clubhouse. Kirby had heard that the new guy, Hopkins, now held ownership of it.

Panting, he rested on his knees in front of the blonde, who chuckled.

"'Whatsa matter, baby? Ya need the Trent-man to help ya up?" The taller of the two purred. Kirby growled, slapping away Trent's hand, which had been offered as a support.

"You had me running all over the place!" The jock's voice echoed in the chilled cavern. Kirby stood up and dusted off his sweater, sand grains falling freely from the soft fabric.

Trent laughed lightly and patted his companion on the shoulder.

"S'fine, babe, you can try again tomorrow. But, since you're already here, all worked up and sweaty..." The tall boy advanced his cold hand across Kirby's shoulder blade, dragging his fingers down and into the curve of his back. The action sent shivers down the younger male's spine.

"Come on, Trent, don't do this here," Kirby's breathy request was met with another laugh. Another prying hand found its way onto the jock's back, rubbing small circles soothingly into the skin beneath the sweater.

"Don't be like that. You love it," The blonde replied, continuing his massage. As much as Kirby hated to admit it, Trent was right. He couldn't deny the pleasure that was shooting straight down to his groin, sparking nerves on the way and making him squirm.

Trent was thoroughly enjoying himself getting to touch the jock like this. For the past month, the two had been having secret meetings, making sure that none of the other students were around before starting very enthusiastic kissing sessions. But for some reason that Trent was clueless to, every time he suggested they go further than groping, Kirby ended up blushing furiously and coming up with lame excuses, then running back to the dorms. This time, though, the green eyed bully believed that he was going to get what he had wanted for a long time.

Waiting for some sign of approval before going lower, Trent smirked to himself. After hitting an especially sensitive spot on Kirby's back, the jock involuntarily let out a small moan, which encouraged the blonde's ministrations.

Slowly, so as not to alarm the already worked up teen, Trent dipped his hands lower, softly grasping part of two firm cheeks, contact only blocked by a thin layer of clothes. This elicited a squeak from Kirby, who shifted just enough for Trent to full-on grope his rear end.

"T-Trent, stop," The jock's weak voice signaled that he wanted exactly the opposite of what he was proposing.

"Hah. Doesn't sound like you want me to," The bully said smoothly as he silently brought his right hand under the other male's crotch, reaching further and closing his palm around a pair of prominent balls, the fabric only helping in the mission to send Kirby over the edge.

"U-ungh..." A strangled moan escaped the lips of the brown-haired teen when Trent began rolling his fingers around the two sensitive body parts, awakening sleeping nerves inside Kirby's body and causing him to release sounds of pleasure.

"Baby, careful with those noises, or I won't hold back," Trent warned in a husky tone.

"God...ngh...I can't help it...a-ah, s'too good-ah!"

Kirby yelped when Trent released his grip and placed his hands around his lithe hips, flipping the jock around to face him. The chocolate-eyed boy felt jolts jump down his back as he saw the expression on the blonde's face. His green eyes were clouded with lust, a bead of sweat dripping down from his slightly messy hair as he licked his lips.

"'Kirb, you have no idea how hot you look right now," Trent whispered, bringing himself closer to the other male so that his breath clouded over Kirby's lips. The small jock whimpered, but made no move to push the other away.

Slowly, under the rickety planks of the dock, Trent pressed his parted mouth against his partner's, wrapping his arms softly around Kirby's neck.

To say the least, the football player was shocked. He had never seen – or felt – this romantic, gentle side of Trent before. Probably because most of the blonde's time was spent mocking others and shoving kids in lockers, but right then, Kirby couldn't care less about his companion's morals. All he cared about was how lightly Trent's lips were moving against his own, massaging the lightly parted mouth.

The brown-haired boy sniveled when the taller one pulled away, reaching his hands to Trent's white shirt and firmly clenching the material in his fists. Trent chuckled at the action.

"What, I thought you wanted me to stop...?" He said, enjoying the look of panic Kirby gave him.

"N-no, don't stop, please..." The shorter begged, his fists tightening. This made Trent smile; it was reassuring to know that Kirby wanted him as much as he wanted the jock.

"Well, I guess I can keep going, if you promise not to play chicken this time," He responded, being completely serious. If Kirby decided to bail on him now, all he would be left with would be an erection and a pocket-full of tissues.

The brunette seemed to ponder this for a moment, his eyes looking distant, before giving a slight nod.

"I won't."

And those two words were all it took to make Trent's hands travel from around Kirby's neck to the front of his torso, slipping under the sweater and running along the pale skin. The jock squirmed as the chilled fingers felt their way up to his chest.

'Snap'

A noise caused the two to jump, Kirby's head swinging violently to look at where the sound had originated from. A flash of light illuminated the pair for a split second, before fading away. Pushing Trent from his body, the smaller teen bit his lip and stuffed his hands in his pocket, a habit of his.

"Trent, someone saw us, I swear!" Kirby's voice was high, which happened when he got nervous. The blonde bully didn't seemed fazed by the situation.

"It was probably just lightning, 'Kirb. See, the clouds are dark," Trent tried to calm his partner down, strengthening his statement by pointing up at the stirring clouds in the sky. It was already dark, but they were still able to see a storm coming. The jock's breathing slowed down, his head nodding in agreement.

"You really think that's what it was? We weren't caught, right? Right?" Kirby insisted, practically shaking in fear. If any of these meetings were videotaped, he would be an outcast as soon as the rest of the football team saw the videos. Trent chuckled, obviously not bothered at all.

"I'm sure, baby. But you know, if you're really that nervous, you can always come and stay in my room..." The taller of the two suggested, trying to ignore the double meaning. He was being truthful; he didn't like it when his Kirby was frightened, it ruined his attractive features.

The brunette sniffled and gave a small, almost unreadable nod. Trent didn't have a roommate (albeit, he wasn't allowed to), which made it a perfect room to bunk in when Kirby was scared. Not to mention, if anyone walked in on them, his partner would beat the shit out of them and blackmail them into not telling anyone about what they'd seen.

"Yeah, I will," Kirby replied quietly, taking the blonde's hand and starting to walk back to the dorms alongside his companion. Neither of them bothered to look around to see what else could have caused the bright light and the snapping sound. To be honest, Trent didn't believe it was lightning; thunder would have followed if it was. But he had to be the man in this relationship, otherwise Kirby would most likely freak out. So he said nothing as they headed back to Trent's room.

Looking back on the ordeal, Kirby frowned bitterly and curled up against the wall of the Aquaberry store, which was closed because of the late hour. The memory sent chills down his spine, partly because he no longer had Trent with him, and partly because he felt like they had been watched, even if Trent had said otherwise. Though he still didn't completely know what happened.

Perfectly manicured fingers closed around the high-class camera, snapping shut the device as a deep baritone voice chuckled. Shoes shuffled through the sand and started carrying the owner towards the Prep's fraternity house.

"Well, well. I'm quite sure everyone will be eager to find out about this little fiasco."

As he entered the lavish lobby of the house, Derby slipped off his shoes and held the camera close to him. Manipulating people was easy; as long as the victim wasn't aware of it.

And Kirby was oblivious to all that was going on behind his back.