I'm very productive in the past few days.. But I don't think anyone minds! Hope you enjoy my first Bujeet fic!

This is written for a shuffle challenge :)

1 – Better Than Revenge, by Taylor Swift

Buford gnashed his teeth together angrily, his jade eyes glued to the couple across from him. He could practically hear her peppy little squeaks of glee and his weak, nervous laughs. Any time they would even glance his way, he turned his glare down at his half-eaten lunch.

"I'll see you after school, Bally," she tittered, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before rising and scurrying off. The boy being spoken to let his unconvincing smile slide off his face once she left, and he leaned his head onto the table.

"I am terribly doomed," he muttered. Buford knew he was being addressed indirectly, and took a moment to finish his yellowing apple. Once he'd chucked the core into a nearby trash can, he looked down at his nerd.

"Just tell her to piss off," he offered unhelpfully. Baljeet pouted and turned his head to look up.

"I do not wish to offend her!" he squeaked. "I just wish for her to be out of my hair, both literally and figuratively."

Buford rolled his eyes. "Man up. Besides, she isn't gonna be looking too hot in a minute. Maybe you'll feel better bout dumping her when she's ugly."

"What do you me-"

There was a loud bang from outside of the cafeteria, followed by a shrill scream, and in walked the girl in question, her face horrified. Baljeet found it difficult to contain a small chuckle that arose in his throat when he saw her.

She was covered in filth, as though it had exploded from her locker. Baljeet sat up and looked at Buford, who was smirking and taking a drink of his can of Coke.

"What did you do?" the Indian boy asked, honestly curious. Buford shrugged.

"What can I say: nothing I do better than revenge."

2 – She Walks Right Through Me, by Alex Day

"Wouldn't it be cool to have a ghost for a boyfriend?"

Baljeet looked up from his textbook curiously, quirking a brow. "No, I cannot say that it has ever crossed my mind. Why do you say this?" Buford, who was lying idly on their bed, tossed a football up in the air and caught it again.

"I dunno. I just started thinking. What if he could, like, walk through walls and shit? Then I'd never forget my keys; he could just get em for me," he replied easily. "And I bet he'd give wicked blowjobs."

The smaller male sputtered at the last word, making his companion smirk. "I do not need any further explanation please," he managed to spit out, then turned his eyes back to the page in front of him.

Buford sat up slowly and looked over. Baljeet wasn't reading, that much was evident. And if he wasn't reading, something had to be bothering him. Buford mulled over his last few words, deciding on which had caused his boyfriend a bit of discomfort.

"Don't worry, Jeet. Your blowjobs ain't half-bad."

A small laugh came from across the room, followed by the turning of his page.

3 – If It's Love, by Train

"You don't gotta go to school," Buford murmured, his voice throatier than usual from sleep. Baljeet hummed his consent at the thought, but forced himself to sit up on his elbows.

"I do, Buford. If I do not, I shall be lost in the next lesson."

"So take that day off, too," was the reply he received. A thick, muscled arm wrapped itself around Baljeet's waist, tugging him closer to the pale boy, and he let out a gasp when a kiss was placed to his hip. "I don't want you to leave."

A grin tugged Baljeet's lips upwards, and he rolled over, looking to his left. Buford had one eye open a crack, his dark hair flopping over his forehead slightly, and that muscled arm draped over Baljeet's back. He looked content to remain in that position forever, and the nerd couldn't help but concur with that thought. But reality took its toll when the alarm blared the song If It's Love from Baljeet's phone.

"I hate that song," Buford managed to say before rolling over, his back facing his boyfriend.

"It is one of my favourites," Baljeet informed, earning him a noncommittal grunt. Biting back a sigh, he leaned over and kissed Buford's cheek, whispering in his ear, "It reminds me of us."

"Why's that?"

The grin grew on his face. "It makes no sense, it is quite fun to listen to, and it says what I believe: we are two birds of a feather."

4 – I Feel Like Dancing, by All Time Low

With a bit of a resigned sigh, Baljeet turned on his heel and left the scene before him, heading out of the house. People hardly noticed. No one ever did notice him, especially not at social gatherings like this one. It was apparently called a 'house party', but Baljeet preferred the term 'an excuse to become intoxicated and blame it on the host'.

Loud cheering could be heard in the background, followed by the door he'd previously shut opening and slamming again. Half a second later, Baljeet was thrown over someone's shoulder. His first reaction was to scream, but when he saw the dark green shirt he had bought, he held it in.

"Where are you taking me?!" he asked harshly, pounding his small fists on his captor's back. "I wish to be let go!"

"Don't care," Buford slurred slightly, and kept walking.

A few blocks later, they were at Buford's home, where the nerd was finally put down gently. He took one look at the football player and knew he was wasted. The amount of coordination he had since taking in so much beer was quite remarkable, though.

"You are very drunk," Baljeet stated lamely. Apparently this was the funniest thing in the world, as Buford couldn't stop laughing.

"The guys hooked me up to a keg tap," he responded. He was tripping over his words a bit. "I saw you left. Why'd you leave?"

"I do not like parties, Buford," Baljeet snapped. "I told you that before arrived. Yet you still pulled me along like your show dog!" He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I do not wish to speak to you while you are still inebriated. Perhaps we shall talk tomorrow."

He made to walk down the street to his own house, but there was a hard grip on his bicep that stopped him. He was suddenly looking up into his best friend's green eyes. And while his pupils were dilated and he found it hard to keep his gaze straight, it took Baljeet's breath away nonetheless. Damn his insufferable crush.

"I don't wantchu to go," he muttered before pulling his nerd in and kissing him.

Words couldn't describe how shocked, euphoric, amazed, bewildered, and passionate Baljeet felt in the next few moments. He eagerly kissed back, letting his lips move with Buford's. His hands moved to the other boy's thick neck, holding him close, and when there was a push of tongue, he accepted it without thought.

Much too quickly for either of their liking, however, they broke apart for air and looked at each other in awe. Baljeet could still taste the tinge of alcohol and minty gum.

"Don't go," Buford said quietly. And Baljeet didn't.

5 – Things I'll Never Say, by Avril Lavigne

He couldn't explain how important it was that he looked good. Not for himself, or his mother, or the world. No, he dressed so impeccably for a single boy. The same boy who taunted him all through their childhood.

Baljeet couldn't explain how exuberant the bully made him. His heart sped up at the sight of the tall, broad-shouldered jock. He sometimes found it difficult to make his words work in close quarters with him. And most of all, just the sheer smiles that he sometimes caused were enough to stop his breath.

All in all, Baljeet was head over heels in love with Buford.

Of course, he couldn't tell his friend these things. It would ruin something important. It would make them both feel horribly awkward, and possibly ruin their entire lives. They might never be able to see each other again without wanting to leave the premises. Buford would find him repulsive, call him a queer for liking guys, and leave without thought.

But that's only if he doesn't love you as well, a small voice in the back of Baljeet's head reminded him. And while this rang true, he still couldn't find the will to speak up about his feelings. He didn't want to risk it.

So he'd just continue to keep the hopes of being able to blow Buford away with a single touch in the back of his mind. He'd never tell about his craving to be with him every night, and to feel those strong arms wrapped round him tight. And he'd definitely never tell anyone of a single dream where Buford proposed to him. Never.

Probably.

6 – Young, by Hedley

Buford missed being a teenager. He missed sleeping in on the weekends, and coming home with enough energy to actually do something. But time caught up with them. Baljeet was attending university almost all the time – on a full scholarship, something that Buford had celebrated with him – and Buford worked at an auto shop every day of the week to pay rent on the apartment they kept. He wasn't complaining, of course. He loved that his boyfriend could attend a nice school in the Greater Danville area. It was just strenuous.

He missed school going by far too slow, and then summer racing to the end far too quickly. He missed having fun. He missed cranking AC/DC in his beat up old Jeep, ignoring Baljeet when he tried to turn it down. And he definitely missed the ability to party whenever he liked.

So he took the weekend off, and when Baljeet appeared near dinner, dropping his school stuff on the table, Buford informed him of his plans.

"We are going to do what?" he asked, slightly surprised by this sudden wish.

"We're going to have a weekend off."

"From what?"

"From life!" Buford cried out. "Where we can stay up watching movies or fucking, and sleep till noon! And go out for a drink or two at the pub without worrying! C'mon, Jeet, you can't say it doesn't sound like fun."

Baljeet smiled a bit, mostly at his boyfriend's enthusiasm, and nodded a bit. "Alright."

7 – Kiss Me Slowly, by Parachute

Romance wasn't something Buford or Baljeet were too good at. Not to say they weren't romantic in any sense. They had their moments, as all people do. But as an overall judgement, they didn't classify themselves as romantics.

But if there was one thing the pair of them could do, it was kiss.

It was like a secret way of communicating between just them. It only took one kiss to tell the other person how they were feeling. From sad to horny, it was obvious from the way they moved their lips.

And sometimes it was the most beautiful thing either could ever imagine. It could be slow and tender, something that Buford was surprisingly good at portraying. The gentle brushing of a thumb on Baljeet's blushing cheek, and then tilting his head up a bit. Their eyes would keep locked as they leisurely moved closer, and then they felt it. Balmy lips to chapped ones. Calloused hands on a slim waist.

Or it was lustful. Harsh and quick and meant for a single thing: a precursor to sex. Biting at one another's lower lips, and pulling the other person as close as possible, and groaning quietly at the brushing of sensitive parts. Tongues battled for dominance. Nails dug into flesh.

Yet nothing felt more perfect than kissing each other.

8 – The Man Who Never Lied, by Maroon 5

Buford had a short fuse. That was just common knowledge. If you valued your continued existence, you didn't piss him off. The only exception to the die-if-you-irk rule was Baljeet, for obvious reasons. However, when the nerd got worked up, he could be almost as deadly as the former man.

And at the moment, they were both enraged. About what? They had long since forgotten. They were now just fighting for the sake of fighting.

The curses and insults were thrown across the street at one another. They didn't dare get closer. They were mad, but they weren't insane. They knew one another well enough to be wary of coming within a few feet of the other. Angry screams were one thing, but the loss of a limb was another.

"Fuck you, twerp! You think you're so high and mighty cause you're going to school and shit!"

"Well, at least I wish to continue my education! You seem happy to just be a grease monkey for the rest of your life! And I do not know about any other person, but grease monkeys do not make much!"

"So you'll be some fucking doctor or lawyer or something, and then you can pay the bills!" Buford glared, his fists taut. "But till then, I'm paying the bills, so piss off!"

"I do not need you! I never needed you! I can live on my own and be just as happy! At least the place will be clean if I live alone!"

"Then go!"

"No!"

"Why?!"

"Because I fucking love you, you asshole!"

9 – ET, by Katy Perry (feat. Kanye West)

"You are quite hypnotizing, Buford," Baljeet murmured, watching the even rising and falling of his boyfriend's broad chest. He didn't expect a reply; after all, the boy being spoken about was fast asleep.

Baljeet let a hand stray along Buford's pale arm. There were scars and a few bruises from fights and work. But he still remained chiselled, his muscles defined. Baljeet's eyes moved higher up, over his shoulder, then down his strong abs. The sheet that covered them was draped over the other boy's hips, allowing the Indian a view of the trail of dark hair leading down, and the upper most part of his strong thigh. He couldn't help but blush at the thought of what was between those legs. And what it had been doing only hours ago.

Buford was Baljeet's opposite. He was strong and cunning and a bit dense. He was rude and disrespectful and brutish. Yet that only made him more appealing. He was like a strange species that Baljeet couldn't help but find fascinating. And it didn't help that he was madly in love with him.

"You are my own alien," he chuckled quietly.

10 – Sober, by Pink

Sobriety sucks, Buford thought bitterly. Especially hangovers.

He loved to drink. Beer was his beverage of choice, followed by rum and Coke. And it always tasted so good going down, then straight to his brain. It made his fingers tingle and his touch go fuzzy, yet he found his other senses sharpened. He was suddenly alert to everything.

Especially Baljeet.

When the nerd was in his company while he was inebriated, Buford wouldn't stop looking at him. He just found that there was even more to cherish when he could see every defined curve in Baljeet's face, and the flecks of gold in his dark chocolate eyes. Nothing could be unseen, or left out.

The sex was just as good sober as drunk, though, which Buford found to be a relief. If he suddenly enjoyed sex more when he was wasted, he wasn't sure Baljeet would ever forgive him.

It was the morning after that sucked so badly. When the headache hit him like a ton of bricks, and the taste of bile in his mouth made him want to puke. When he couldn't quite walk straight at first and the sun blinded him with just a single ray. Nothing was good the morning after.

Or so he thought. When Baljeet appeared with a mug of coffee, a glass of orange juice, two Advil's, and a pair of sunglasses, Buford could've cried with joy. That boy made even being sober better.

There we go! I enjoyed writing this :) hope you enjoyed!

REVIEW! :D