Author's note: All the credit for this goes to the very awesome Espanglish, who wanted fic along these lines:

Gary: Rule the school with me, Edgar

Edgar: Yes *lub*

HOW COULD I REFUSE? Ahem. Warning for THE GAAAAAYYYY, as usual. But c'mon, this is the Bully fandom. EVERYTHING IS GAY. IT'S JUST HOW WE ROLL.

As far as Edgar was concerned, there were two major rules about living life in Bullworth. Firstly, you had to be tough. Weak kids got nowhere in a town like this. Secondly - and most importantly - if you happened to be one of those spoiled, stuck-up private school dorks, you stayed the hell away from Edgar and his gang. Townie kids did not like Bullworth Academy kids.

That, then, was why he was so surprised to see the guy in the teal sweater-vest walking towards him like he owned the fucking world or something. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was a schoolkid, for fuck's sake. Most academy students were at least smart enough to change out of their telltale uniforms if they needed to venture onto townie turf. What was even stranger was that the kid didn't look any the worse for wear despite his attire - he'd somehow managed to talk his way past Omar without getting his face pounded in.

Well - Edgar wasn't sure how the schoolkid had sweet-talked his way into his domain, but the little punk sure as hell wasn't going to be enjoying their hospitality for long.

Not while he was conscious, anyhow.

"You must be Edgar Munsen," the kid said. "You're not an easy guy to find."

"No shit."

"Friendly, aren't you?" the kid replied, suddenly grinning as if enjoying a private joke. "Hey - relax, friend. You're all pent up..."

"You ain't no friend of mine, schoolboy," snarled Edgar. "What're you doing here, kid? We don't like your type 'round here. This is kind of a dangerous place for you to be."

The kid nodded slowly. Though 'kid' was stretching it, now Edgar had a closer look - he was maybe a year or two younger than himself and around half a head shorter. Scrawnier, too. He had a scar that mirrored Edgar's own, but even that was smaller and neater. It was odd, though - he obviously posed no threat to anyone while he was in Blue Skies, but he still looked self-confident and composed. Smug, almost, like he was the dangerous one around here.

Well, Edgar thought, we'll see about that.

"Yeah," the kid said, "your goons already gave me the whole anti-Bullworth-Academy spiel. That's actually why I'm here."

"'Cause you're suicidal and wanna get beat down?" Edgar cracked his knuckles meaningfully. "Glad to help, rich boy."

"Heh." The little punk actually laughed. It took balls, Edgar had to admit. Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye. "Do I look rich to you?"

Hmm. He hesitated, taking in the boy's appearance again. No, he didn't look rich. Not exactly. His uniform was slightly faded and worn, and he didn't have that same pampered, well-groomed air that most of the Academy snobs did. But still... "You go to that school. You gotta be rich."

"I go to that school because nobody else'll have me," the boy sneered, as though explaining something so obvious that it was barely worth mentioning. "I hate that place just as much as you do, friend."

"What did I tell you? I ain't your friend," Edgar snarled. "You fucking call me Edgar. Who are you, kid?"

"Gary. Gary Smith."

"Never heard of you," Edgar said, coolly lighting a cigarette.

"No reason you would have," Gary replied. "But I'm here 'cause I think we can help each other. You and me, frien... Edgar. We can take over that dump."

"Take over the school?" Right. Just how was that supposed to work? Was this guy nuts? Still, Edgar was cautiously interested. It sounded fun, if nothing else, and causing a bit of chaos for those losers was always a good thing.

Hey - if he didn't like what the kid had to say, he could always just beat him up afterwards.

"Exactly." Gary proceeded to confirm everything Edgar had ever thought about the school. It was filled with stuck up snobs, he claimed - nothing but rich little dweebs getting off on their own self-importance. A breeding ground for bullshit. Crammed to the brim with jumped-up wannabe-tough-guy morons who sorely needed to be taught some harsh lessons about real life. And Gary - so he claimed - had a plan to do just that. But not alone, he was going to need help...

There was something about him, Edgar decided. He talked a hell of a lot of sense. And while he still didn't trust the kid - he came from that school, after all, even if he wasn't like the other assholes there - he somehow instinctively knew that if anyone could get this done, it was Gary Smith.

He wanted in.

"Alright. So what's this plan of yours?"

"I have to get back to school," Gary said, suddenly disinterested in the conversation. "But I'll explain everything tomorrow. Can you tell your flunkies to not try and murder me on sight when I come back?"

"Whatever. I'll think about it. Now get outta here, kid."

"I ain't your kid," Gary grinned, mimicking Edgar's earlier words. "You fucking call me Gary."

"His name is Jimmy Hopkins," Gary said, leaning back against the warehouse wall. "And he's the dumbest of them all. Seriously. He's ten percent man, ninety percent moron. And that's me being generous."

"And he calls himself the king? He ain't king of shit," Edgar growled. "Let me guess. He's one of those inbred little fuckers from the Vale? More money than he knows what to do with? Bursts into tears if his designer clothes get a stain?"

Gary sniggered. It was an oddly infectious sound, and Edgar found himself grinning as well. "Not exactly. Jimmy didn't pay his way into the school with money, that's for sure. I heard his mom slept with the principal to get him a place. Or he slept with the principal. I forget."

"Sick," Edgar laughed, then his brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, wait. If he ain't rich, why's he the king of the school?"

"Oh, he didn't buy his way there. That's not how Jimmy-boy works." Gary began pacing back and forth animatedly. Ranting about this Hopkins kid seemed to be a favourite pastime of his. "The guy's a complete sociopath. He likes to torture people. Decent guys like me who just want to get along don't stand a chance," he said, and laughed like he'd just made the funniest joke in the world. Edgar didn't get it, but laughed along with him anyway. "Yes... Jimmy rules with a fine mixture of beatings and bullshit."

"Sounds like a real nice guy."

"Yeah. He's taken over all the cliques in town. Almost." Gary counted them off on his fingers. "The bullies, the nerds, the rich kids, the greaseballs, the sports team..." He stared up at Edgar meaningfully. "Guess who he's got his eye on now?"

"What? My gang?"

"Bingo."

Edgar frowned. "He a big guy?" He wasn't worried or anything, of course - Edgar wasn't the leader of the townies because of his size, that was for sure - but it was always good to know your enemy.

"Not particularly. He's a touch shorter than me. Stockier. Less hair. Looks like your average modern-day neanderthal."

"Then why should I worry? Let the fucking king come and try me. I can handle it."

"No, no. That's not how he operates." Gary grasped Edgar's arm and leaned in close, his voice lowered as though imparting some vital secret. "He's a sneaky bastard. You know the type - he acts like a nice guy, makes friends with people, acts like he's not a threat. Then he turns people against you."

"My guys won't fall for that shit," Edgar smiled confidently. "'Specially not from no schoolboy. No offense, Gary."

"You're too trusting," Gary sighed, smiling oddly.

"What d'you mean?"

"Ask... Clint or Henry or whatever his name is this week... the crazy one. Ask him if he's heard of Jimmy." Gary leaned in even closer, now practically whispering into Edgar's ear. "Ask Zoe Taylor."

"Zoe?"

Gary nodded. "You know she used to go to Bullworth, right?"

"Of course I fuckin' do." Edgar scowled, pulling out of Gary's grip. "She used to go there. Then she got kicked out, so she's one of us now."

"You really think so?" A raised eyebrow betrayed Gary's skepticism. "She got expelled, she didn't leave by choice. You really think she wouldn't go back there if she had the chance? If King Hopkins offered her a deal?"

"She wouldn't," Edgar muttered, half to convince himself. "Zoe's alright."

"You just ask around, okay?" Gary patted Edgar's back sympathetically. "Be careful, friend. Keep an eye on things. And remember - you can always trust me. I've got your back."

"Yeah, I know Jimmy!" Clint grinned. "He smashed up some rich assholes' mailboxes for me. He's got some killer moves with a baseball bat."

"So he was nice to you?" Edgar asked, slightly incredulous. Clint wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with.

Clint nodded. "Yeah. Even after I was gonna beat him up." He swung his arms back and forth gleefully. "Wonder if he'll be back. He ain't bad, for one of them academy kids."

Shit. .

"Hopkins?" Omar frowned. "The squinty kid with the buzzcut? Some kinda big shot up at the school?"

"Yeah," said Edgar. "Yeah, him."

"I seen him around," Omar said dismissively. "Racing around on his bike and shit. He was with Zoe yesterday. I think they were off to that big garden... park... thing. The place where all the rich kids hang out. What's up? That a problem?"

"Nah."

Shit. Again.

"I can't fucking believe it," Edgar muttered, lighting his cigarette with shaking hands. "You were right. Right about all of it. That bitch..."

"Who's the bitch? Zoe or Jimmy?" Gary asked, grinning.

"Both. Stop looking so happy about this, man, it's not funny." Edgar offered Gary a cigarette, but he shook his head. "Suit yourself. Jesus. Fuck."

"Relax," Gary sighed, looking around the interior of the chemical plant with extreme disinterest. "Forget that whore. What do you expect from someone who got expelled for slutting around?"

"She said it was a teacher," Edgar muttered, watching the smoke twirling its way into the air. "He came onto her, she said, and she complained about him but -"

"And you actually believe her?"

God, when he put it like that... Edgar took a drag on the cigarette. "Not now, no. Fuck. Fuck!"

"I've told you. Relax." Gary seemed supremely unconcerned, which made Edgar feel slightly reassured. Gary's confidence always seemed to inspire his own, somehow. "Girls aren't worth the time or the stress."

"Not a womaniser then, Gary?"

"Oh, please." Gary rolled his eyes. "Bullworth girls have all the personality and charm of a used tampon."

Edgar laughed, dropped his cigarette and ground it into the floor with his foot. That sounded about right. "Ha. That mean you like guys?" He glanced across at Gary, who was now glaring at him darkly. "Hey, nothing wrong with that if you do. It's normal for guys to, like, experiment and shit."

Something in Gary's gaze seemed to change. For a brief moment, there was a flash of something - a tiny glimpse of a calculating mind, perhaps, the cogs in his brain whirring around at full speed. It disappeared as quickly as it had materialised, and Edgar wasn't sure if he'd really seen it at all. "Oh? Have you... experimented?"

"Nah. Well, once." Edgar shrugged. "Got drunk out of my mind and kissed Duncan."

"And?"

"And he tasted like a fucking ashtray."

Gary let out a short laugh, the hint of a smirk appearing at the corner of his mouth. "I bet you do as well, Munsen."

It was only a couple of hours later, when Edgar was trying to sleep, that he began wondering if that had been an invitation for him to try and prove Gary wrong.

As he sat on the dust-covered floor of the chemical plant, Gary sitting across from him whilst enthusiastically detailing his plans, Edgar began to think that they really could do this. And even if it all fucked up, well - it was going to be a hell of a lot of fun.

"...So you can break into Spencer Shipping with no difficulty. That's good. Very good." Gary was considerably more twitchy and manic than usual - Edgar had never seen him this excited. It reminded him a little of Clint when he'd been off his meds for a while. "What about setting the gym on fire? You got any pyromaniacs in your gang?"

"Gurney'll do it," Edgar declared. "Not a problem."

"Good, good... Let's see. Vincent. Johnny Vincent. We need to get him out of the way," Gary said. "The other clique leaders wouldn't know loyalty if it bit them on the ass, so they're not a problem. We can turn them against Jimmy in a second. Vincent's different." He paused. "How's about your boys spread it around that they've been with his girl?"

"That Lola chick?"

"Yeah. The one who can give you herpes with a single glance. Her."

"We can do that."

"Good. That'll keep him nicely distracted." Gary leaned back on his elbows, snickering. "We're so close, now. And it's going to be so easy. How does it feel, friend?"

Intoxicating, Edgar wanted to say. He settled for something more blunt. "Fucking awesome. We're really doing this, man!"

"I know!" Gary's gleeful grin matched Edgar's own. "We make a great team. You and me - kings of Bullworth Academy."

"Kings of Bullworth Town!"

"Yeah!" Gary edged closer, so triumphant that it was like they'd already succeeded. "You and me."

Afterwards, Edgar didn't remember who instigated the kissing. He didn't much care, either.

Apparently, he didn't taste like an ashtray.

It was dark. Only just able to make it out in the dimness, Edgar traced Gary's scar with a fingertip. "How'd you get it?"

Gary only smirked. "It's a secret. How'd you get yours?"

"It's a secret," Edgar grinned. "Nah. Got it in a fight. A long time ago."

"I see. You got your ass kicked, Munsen?"

"Yeah, right. You should see the other guy." Edgar tilted his head to one side. "Go on, then."

"What?"

"How'd you get yours? I told you about mine."

"That's not how this works. I'm not going to open up and 'fess all just because you did," sneered Gary. "I told you. It's a secret."

Edgar frowned a little and ran his finger along the scar once more, until Gary pointed out that there were far better things that his hands could be doing right now and he'd appreciate it if he'd just fucking get on with it.

Gary had told him to keep an eye on the town hall for a signal, but Edgar hadn't been expecting that.

The Hopkins kid. Up on the tower. Spray-painting the sign that was going to be his downfall.

He really was stupid.

"Alright. Gurney - get to the gym," Edgar commanded. "Burn it to the fucking ground. Make sure nobody sees, right? You two - the boxing club. Steal stuff, break stuff - whatever." Gurney, Otto and Jerry ran off, whooping excitedly. Edgar turned to Leon and Duncan. "And you guys remembered to send the rats, right?"

"Right. Courtesy of Spencer Shipping," Leon laughed, slapping Duncan with a triumphant high-five. "Want us to pack up a few more?"

"It can't hurt," Edgar grinned. This was awesome. Those stuck-up assholes weren't gonna know what hit them!

"Huh?" Zoe asked, confused by the instructions. She looked up at the town hall where Hopkins was still making an idiot out of himself, and bit her lip. "What's going on?"

"Nothin' you need to know about," Edgar said coldly.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Just fuck off. I ain't in the mood to deal with your shit."

As Zoe stamped off, Edgar grinned up at the freshly-painted tag on the town hall. Bullworthless. Gary Smith was a fucking genius.

"He's gone," Gary smirked. "Hopkins. Expelled. He's gone."

"We did it?" Edgar could barely believe it. "We really fucking did it?"

"Yep." The smirk widened. "I'm head boy. I won."

Edgar punched the air in triumph. Yeah! They'd really done it! Him and Gary, victorious. It was almost beyond belief. This definitely called for a celebration. He reached out towards Gary. "Kick ass! Hey, c'mere."

"No time for that," Gary said, squirming out of Edgar's grip as quickly as possible. "We have a little problem. Just a minor one."

"Can't it wait?"

"No. Hopkins knows you guys had something to do with his expulsion," Gary said coolly. "And you know how he is - it won't be long before he storms over here, grunting away..."

Aw, man. Edgar groaned in frustration. "How'd he find out?"

"I don't know," Gary confessed. "Maybe he's been engaging in some amateur detective work? Or Zoe let something slip during their pillow talk?" He rolled his eyes dismissively. "Don't worry. It's nothing you can't handle."

"Me? Not us?"

"I'm a thinker, not a fighter," snorted Gary. "Well, not unless it's really necessary. And I have... things to sort out at the school." He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Oh, man. This is better than sex. Uh, almost."

"Oh." Edgar felt oddly put out, but he quickly brushed it off. "See you later, then?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course." Gary turned to leave. "Kick his sorry ass for me."

Edgar had heard of the phrase 'hollow victory' before, but it had never really applied to him until then.

He was so stupid.

Edgar touched the fresh bruise blossoming along his side and winced. Fuck. Jimmy Hopkins' reputation was more well-deserved than Gary had let on. Then again, Gary had fed him with tons of bullshit, so why should that have been any different?

Fuck.

Jimmy had beaten him. Jimmy had beaten him on his own turf. And, to his utmost horror, Jimmy wasn't some kind of spiteful little sociopathic maniac. He was just... well, just a good kid. Normal. Gutsy. Easily taken in by the lies of scrawny little scar-faced traitorous assholes.

He wasn't too different to Edgar himself in that respect, then. It made sense in hindsight. Gary had said Jimmy was a sneaky expert con-artist in the same breath as he'd said that the boy was a charmless, witless moron. The two things just didn't add up. He could see it now, why hadn't he seen it then? He'd been used. In every possible way.

Fuck!

Edgar let out a shout of anger and kicked the wall with all the strength he could muster. He was so fucking stupid! Okay, sure, Jimmy had been taken in by Gary's lies as well. But not like Edgar - he hadn't got close to the snake, he hadn't done those things...

He punched the wall this time, skinning his knuckles but barely feeling it. "Stupid, stupid, STUPID!"

"Boss!" Omar peered around the doorframe. "Boss, I... Edgar? You crying?"

"No," he snarled. "Don't be fuckin' stupid. What's up?"

"Right," Omar stammered. "Uh. Just thought you'd wanna know - there's trouble at the school, real trouble. Rioting and shit."

He couldn't even be bothered to feign surprise. What was there to do when you 'ruled' a school like that apart from fuck it up? Especially when you were Gary Smith and you practically came in your pants every time you caused trouble for someone. The traitorous little fuck was probably having the time of his life right now while Edgar was stuck here nursing his bruises...

"Let's go," Edgar said, wiping the blood from his knuckles onto his shirt. Yeah, okay, this was a Bullworth problem - but he owed Jimmy.

He owed Gary, too, and he was going to enjoy watching Jimmy lay the little shit out flat. Better than sex indeed.