Thanks to Sascha, my beta-reader (big huggles, welcome aboard, Sasch!), and Mica, my ... well, semi-beta-reader, and Maelie, my poster! ;) *giggles* I have an entire team here...
Bobby munched his Twinkie and tossed the wrapper away to join the other dozen or so wrappers piled up. Sighing, he reached for another one. After taking a big bite he shook his head, swallowed, and sighed again.
"I don't understand it, Hank."
Hank rubbed his eyes with one large hand and reached for a Twinkie. Their supply was dwindling rapidly. And they had made a Midnight Twinkie Run once already that night. If this went on much longer, they'd have to make a second one. Hank wasn't sure his wallet would survive the night at this rate.
"It's only chemistry, Bobby."
"It's a foul demon from another world," Bobby muttered, and bit vengefully into a Twinkie. "Im gofa ful da tef toforfo," Bobby moaned with his mouth full.
Hank brushed crumbs off the textbook. "You're not going to fail the test tomorrow."
"No you're not. You just need to study more, that's all."
Bobby swallowed and tossed the wrapper aside. "What do you think I'm DOING?"
"I think you're cramming. This doesn't count as studying." Hank glared down at Bobby, laying on the floor. Brown hair fell into Hank's wide face,and he ignored it. "Now, let's go over this again."
Bobby whined and flopped over onto his back, slamming the textbook shut as he did so. "I'm tired."
"I would assume so," Hank answered.
"How 'bout I just sit by you during the test? Huh? Please, Hank?"
Hank's only answer was a cold glare.
Bobby sighed and looked at the ceiling. "I thought so."
Hank scrubbed his hands through his thick brown hair, dragged them over his face, and fell onto his stomach on the carpet. He blinked at the picture that sat there, near his eyes, stuck in Bobby's chemistry book. Slowly, he sat back up. "What's this?"
"What?" Bobby twisted to look, then sat bolt upright and blushed hotly. "Nothing."
"Nothing? What sort of nothing?" Hank reached for the paper, only to have his overly large hand slapped away by Bobby.
"It's nothing," Bobby insisted, grabbing the chemistry book and hugging it to his skinny, fourteen-year-old chest.
"Well, for nothing it's got you quite riled." Hank grinned, dimples creasing his cheeks, and scooched closer to Bobby. "Hand it over."
"No. Go away. We should be studying!"
"You should be studying. I already know all this. Now what was that?"
"Nothing!" The blush was spreading.
"Hand it over, Drake!" Hank ordered imperiously.
Hank tackled Bobby. Bobby grunted and lost his textbook, which slid a bit across the carpet before coming to a stop. Still sitting on Bobby, Hank reached out and picked the book up. The paper had fallen almost completely out, and Hank plucked it loose easily.
"It's ... it's..." Bobby stuttered in a panic.
"Oh, my," Hank murmured, clearing this throat. "Oh ... my." Slowly, he turned it sidewards. His eyes grew until they were almost as wide open as his mouth. "Oh..."
"It's Miss April," Bobby said mournfully. "Formerly Miss America."
"She is certainly..." Hank rolled off of Bobby slowly, still gaping at the picture. "She is ... well proportioned." Lookit something safe lookit something safe ... ah, there, a flag. Wrapped around her waist. And up ... up to ... No! Don't look there! There! Look at the flag! Pretty white stars on a blue background... "Oh my... "
Bobby grinned sheepishly, starting to get over his embarrassment. "Oh your what?" he teased weakly.
"Stars and stripes?" Hank managed.
"I always thought that, in this picture, they looked more like garters. Stars and garters?" Bobby backed quickly into the realm of humor to save himself, no matter how bad that humor might be.
"Garters," Hank murmured. "Yes, that would be more appropriate." Not that she was wearing any.
"Hank? Hank? We should study. You can look at the 'stars and garters' later." Bobby bit his lip, squirmed, and sighed. "And, Hank? Don't tell anyone about that, okay? I'd never hear the end of it."
Hank nodded numbly and allowed Bobby to take the poster away.
"Look! Hank!" Bobby chirped, bouncing into the kitchen. "Good news! I got a C! What'd you get?" Bobby grabbed the slip of paper laying on the table enthusiastically. "A B+! What happened, Hank?"
Hank glowered at the youth. "I stayed up all night helping a certain teen with his chemistry, that's what."
"Oh. You shouldn't do that, Hank," Bobby said, grinning. He hopped up to sit on the edge of the table, watching Jean making herself lunch while Warren stood on one side of her, trying to impress her, and Scott sat at the end of the table making googly eyes at her and pretending he was being subtle. "Hank, I'm so ashamed of you," Bobby clucked. "I expected better."
Hank glared, though it wasn't really an angry glare.
"After all that time you spent studying..." Bobby shook his head sadly.
"Better than me," Warren sighed. "My alarm didn't go off, and I missed the test. The Professor said I could take a make-up exam, though."
Hank's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, my," he sighed in commiseration with his winged friend.
"Or your what?" Bobby quipped.
A mischievous twinkle entered Hank's eyes, and his gaze slid toward where Bobby perched on the island in the middle of the kitchen. "Oh my stars and garters."
Bobby's blush was instantaneous, and he glanced around in a panic to see if anyone else had caught the reference. Brown eyes shot toward Hank, and Bobby mouthed 'very funny.'
Hank smiled wickedly.