Seeing Red - Buford/Baljeet
Disclaimer: I do not own anything/anyone mentioned in this work of fiction
Prompt: 86. 'Seeing Red'
Rating: T
Length: 1080
Couple: Buford/Baljeet
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86. Seeing Red
He was furious, livid, shaking with anger as he allowed the shattered remains of his new calculator to slip between his fingers.
The attack on his property had been completely unwarranted, but Buford couldn't help himself.
He loved to see Baljeet mad.
He wasn't sure why, to be honest. Perhaps because it was a side of the small Indian boy he rarely got to see, his usual retaliation was a meek whimper or feigned ind
"Can Can I have this dance?"
Baljeet was seated in a field of grass, trying to make sense of what just happened when he heard a voice. He looked up to see Buford standing with an outstretched hand and gasped. Buford? But this wasn't possible. Buford wasn't here. Buford couldn't be here he was dead.
But here he was with a crooked smile on his face, tattered tux jacket and red stains across the chest. Acting like nothing was wrong. Like they hadn't just been in a car accident that had sent them tumbling into a ditch.
Baljeet's hand started to tremble as he put it into Buford's. He was pulled to stand, and into his chest. He wa
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Buford smirked as he waited outside the school for his nerd. It was long past school hours, but Baljeet always stayed late for everything that could possible raise his grade. Not that the school would allow him to have anything more than 100 since he was already way ahead of everyone else for valedictorian, but Baljeet felt it would still be useful for his college applications. Buford? He didn't care so much for that.
Granted, his time spent with the Indian boy did make him concerned just a teeny bit about his grades, but not by much more than a hair.
Another minute passed and Buford felt himself getting antsy. He reached into his cargo pan
"Don't go please?"
Buford's voice came out barley above a whisper. He never thought he'd see the day where he would be the one begging, the one pleading for something. And that something was Baljeet.
Baljeet looked at Buford with sad brown eyes. He was sitting next to him in Buford's beat up old car, clutching a wrinkled and heavily used map. His eyes darted down, and he tightened his small hands around the papers in them.
"I have to Buford. You know that as well as I do." Baljeet couldn't bare to look Buford in the eyes anymore. He could see his former bully's eyes starting to water, and he was holding back tears himself.
"But you'r
Baljeet had absolutely no spare time. He spent countless hours at school, only to return home and work on the projects and papers assigned to him during those long hours. Granted, it was tough. But Baljeet knew it would all pay out in the end. He could become a lawyer. Or a doctor! To think becoming a doctor. Curing patients and seeing another healthy life walk out the door with a smile. Yes, Baljeet was very certain as to what he'd do with his future.
But in order to get to that future, he had to focus on the present: His 5000 word essay due at the beginning of next week. He'd spend about an hour on it each night up until the night it
Buford had the kid cornered. He smirked as he took a step forward, cracking his knuckles and hearing the person in front of him whimper. The figure knew what was coming. It was inevitable when faced with Buford Van Stomm. He stepped closer, putting his arms on either side of his captor, palms slammed firmly on the brick wall to which this person was pinned. He watched as an inaudible gulp was swallowed at the low chuckle that had escaped Buford's lips. He locked eyes with this figure, and his gaze softened; No longer the head strong bully that everyone had come to know. His arms lost their pressure on the wall, and he let them fall to his sid
Buford was a bully. That much everyone knew. But what they never knew was that he would never actually hurt Baljeet. He would push him down, but only to extend a hand and help him back onto his feet. He would steal his calculator and break it. But he knew Baljeet could easily get a new one. (His warranty had been renewed so many times the company almost knew when it was time for the new one.)
It was almost a game between the two boys. It came down to Buford's teasing antics with a wide grin, and a half-assed complaint from Baljeet, who would laugh and roll his eyes.
Buford would steal something of Baljeet's and hold it high over his head. B
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It has been such a long time.
The tall Spaniard was just realizing this when he lowered himself slowly to his knees. The stone in front of him was roughly cut, yet the words carved into it looked painstakingly neat. He remembered when he had etched those words into the stone it had taken him forever just to get a single letter.
He lifted his shaky hand and ran a finger over the name.
He hadn’t put a last name or a birth date. He hadn’t wanted anyone else to know so much about his partner. If anyone really cared they wouldn’t need to learn it from his grave. There were just three simple words engraved in the stone.
My par