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meteoratdusk-blog · 7 years

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RvB Bingo Wars: AU entry

Title: This Means War

Summary: the boys dorm at Lansing Academy is seriously getting out of control with the prank wars, but you just can’t stop the Reds and Blues once they get into a fight.

Word Count: 1.2k

Notes: no warnings except for canon-typical language! I don’t even know what this is anymore but I had a great time writing it, so I hope you enjoy. Also, I should note that most of the pranks mentioned are based on pranks that have been played on me at camp or school in the past. Fun times. *wipes tear away*

This Means War

It was seven a.m. on a Saturday, the birds just beginning to sing their morning chorus, and the dorm halls of Lansing Academy were quiet. The weekends were meant to be a time to sleep in, to relax and catch up on rest, and for the younger students just to play. Most of the time that meant hanging out on the school’s lawns, or playing impromptu games in the sports fields, some students were happy just to read under a nice shady tree.

Some students, however, took their games entirely too far.

A door opened slowly on the north side of the second floor’s eastern dormitory, the one the inhabitants had affectionately taken to calling “Blood Gulch.” A head peaked out, surveying the silent halls with narrowed eyes.

“Hey,” a voice whispered behind him. “Is it clear?”

“Looks like it,” the lookout said, scowling. “That’s weird. You think Sarge and the Reds are setting up an ambush?”

“Dude, Church, I don’t care,” the other voice said, “I just want to go to the bathroom before the fighting starts up again.”

“You’ll care if you get another water balloon full of slime to the face because of this bullshit, Tucker,” Church muttered, but he got out of the way, opening the door so his roommate could dash by and head for the bathrooms down the hall.

The red doors on south side of the hall remained closed, the rooms silent. Church glared suspiciously at the door emblazoned with a red number one.

It had to be a trap.

The war had raged for almost three months. The middle school boys’ dorms had never exactly been peaceful, but lately they had been downright chaotic. Every weekend there was some new outrageous prank, or a battle waged with nerf weapons, and the carnage had somehow claimed half the hall’s furniture, leaving the once reasonably cozy dorm a barren wasteland.

No one really even remembered how it started. There was something about Sarge’s stuffed warthog plushy going missing, Church’s favorite poster getting stolen, and then it was just retaliation until it became all-out war. The designated Dorm Parents had all but given up trying to stop them, although they had been told there would be serious consequences if anyone was seriously injured. Again.

Look, they hadn’t actually meant to hurt anyone with Caboose’s pet scorpion (and really, who gave a kid as inattentive as Caboose a pet scorpion as a comfort animal?!), they had only meant to wave it around as a show of force, a warning about what could happen if the Reds got too ballsy in their attacks. Caboose insisted that Sheila was actually really nice.

Fortunately for Church, emperor scorpion venom wasn’t actually lethal.

Church shut his own door, labeled with a “two” in light blue, and glanced to his neighbor’s door, where Caboose was still sleeping. If he had any questions about why Caboose no longer had a roommate, they had definitely been answered in the last few weeks.

The hall was still quiet as he made his own way towards the bathroom. Maybe Sarge had taken a page out of Grif’s book and actually slept in for once and they could finally have a peaceful Saturday morning.

That dream was shattered when Church heard a startled yell and a thump from the bathrooms.

Church broke into a sprint.

As soon as he pushed through the bathroom door, he immediately slipped, careening into the room and falling flat on his face onto the slick glop that was all over the floor. Vaseline. The Reds had covered the bathroom floor with Vaseline, what the fuck.

Tucker was sprawled just a few inches away, groaning and rubbing at the back of his head.

“HA!” shouted a triumphant voice that still sounded too rough for a middle-schooler, and Church rolled over, Vaseline coating his back now as well as his front. “You’ve fallen into our trap!”

Sarge was standing against the back wall holding a nerf gun, Simmons standing at attention beside him, also armed. Donut waved at him with a grin, still wearing his pink pajamas and holding an empty jar of Vaseline in his other hand. They were standing on the only clean part of the floor.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Church said, maybe a little bit shrilly, trying to get up and falling again immediately, landing directly on top of his roommate. “This is the oldest prank in the book, and you’re seriously calling it a trap?”

“That’s weak, guys,” Tucker complained, shoving Church off of him. “We already pulled a bathroom prank on you last week with the fish in the showers.”

“Yes, but that only makes our plan even more perfect! No one would suspect targeting the bathroom twice,” Sarge told them, grinning. “You dirty Blues have underestimated us once again!”

“Excellent idea and execution, Sarge,” Simmons said, the giant kiss-ass. Then he added in an undertone that he probably thought no one could hear: “and we definitely aren’t going to regret it later when the administration makes us clean it all up ourselves…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Suck it Blues!”

“Ugh, goddamn it, get out of the way, we need to clean up,” Church growled, finally making his way feet and no, he wasn’t wobbling on the floor like an unsteady baby dear, shut the hell up.

“Where are you going?” Donut wondered. “You’re already in the bathroom!”

“Probably outside to find a hose,” Sarge said. “Which is exactly what you dirty Blues deserve!”

“Come on, Tucker, get the fuck up.”

Church hauled Tucker to his feet and dragged him out the door, the both of them nearly careening into the frame before they hit the carpet. As they marched across the hallway they left wet footprints that would probably never wash out entirely.

“Church, I hate to say this but Donut had a point,” Tucker said. “The showers were kind of in the other room.”

“We’re not going to the showers,” Church told him, punching the dormitory door open and dragging his friend up the stairs.

“Uh… why are we heading to the Freelancer dorm?” Tucker asked, using the middle school’s slang term for Lansing Academy’s upper school students. They used the term with a certain amount of envy, always jealous of the older kids’ freedom. They were allowed to leave campus without supervision! “They’re probably not going to want this mess in their showers either. I mean, we were going to go wash off, right?”

“No,” Church said, kicking open the door on the third floor. “I told you. We’re going to clean up. The Reds won’t know what hit them.”

Tucker considered this for a second.

“Dude, this is just an excuse to ask Tex for help, isn’t it.”

“Shut up, Tucker.”

“You are so obvious.”

“Seriously, you are not helping.”

“She is going to eat you alive,” Tucker grinned.

“Not if I give her somebody else to beat up first,” Church declared, making his way towards the door labeled Texas.

He was going to owe her a hefty favor for this one, but he figured he wouldn’t regret it.

As it turned out, he wasn’t wrong. They never would figure out how she got the goat into Sarge’s room, it was like she could turn invisible. They never figured out why the administration allowed Caboose to keep the damn thing, either. In the end, Freckles might have done more damage to the dorm than all of them combined.

Church still counted it as a win.

#RvB Bingo Wars #Blue Team entry #rvb fanfiction #my writing #boarding school can be a fun and crazy place everybody #trust me #also it turns out the thing that inspires me most #is apparently announcing that I'm out of ideas #and I hate the title but I am out of time

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