[A/N]: This is an Au where the Thundermans are just a normal family who are living in poverty. Max is selling drugs to help his family, anonymously leaving money. Everything would be going fine, but his best friend Oyster has started to make him question his sexuality.

This is just a test chapter to see how people take to this idea. I am horrible at writing summaries so I apologize. The total amount of reviews, follows, favorites, and etc depends on if I go further, so don't be afraid to say something. I love hearing from you.

CANON DIVERGENT: The Thundermans have no superpowers. I have also changed the ages of the kids. Max and Phoebe are 17, Billy is 15, and Nora is 14.

Max

Max loved school. Okay, let's rephrase that: Max loved school because it was the one place that he could be himself. Being himself included smoking pot in the bathroom with his band and then picking on the entire student body that he couldn't give two fucks about. What could be say? Maximus Octavious Thunderman was a total bad boy.

"C'mon dude, just give me some," Gideon, a boy in the band whined, reaching for the joint Max held between his fingers just out of reach.

"Hm. I'm gonna go with no," Max said with a smirk, taking a big hit for himself and blowing it in Gideon's face. Oyster cracked up obviously stoned out of his mind. "Give me $20 and then we'll talk."

Gideon's face fell as he murmured, "But Oyster never pays!"

Max looked over to Oyster as they shared a smirk. "Trust me... Oyster pays."

"Fine." He dug into his pocket and pulled out twenty bucks. Max took the money eagerly and gave him a joint from inside his special black box. Truth be told, Max never really liked Gideon. He was just someone who happened to be in his band because nobody better was ever there to take his place.

"Max," Oyster whispered, nodding towards the stall at the end. Max grinned and eyed Oyster appreciatively.

"Get the fuck out Gideon."

"What? Why? Weren't we gonna...You know, be on the pot?" Max glared at Gideon, obviously in no mood for his company. "Fine. I'm gone."

"Thought he'd never leave," Oyster groaned as soon as the door closed.

"Me either." Max closed a fist around the front of Oyster's shirt and pulled him into a sloppy kiss. He never felt more like a villain than when he was in lustful sin with Oyster. He palmed the front of his jeans, pushing him into the wall. "Now I can do whatever the fuck I want with you. Don't you just hate censors?" Max ripped Oyster out of his shirt and bit into his neck.

"Fuck!" He moaned. "The stall." He said, playing with Max's hair. "Now."

Max was just about to comply when he heard a voice from outside, a voice he would never hear again if he had the choice. "Max? Maximus Octavious Thunderman, get your perverted ass out of the bathroom. Now!"

Fucking Phoebe!

"Busy!"

She replied, a little too loudly for his taste, "You can fuck Oyster later!"

Max cringed. He hated when phoebe brought up his sexual interest in Oyster. He hadn't spent too much time on the subject himself. After all, him and Oyster had only started messing around a few weeks ago. They had been stoned in his bedroom and, although unsure of how it happened, Oyster's mouth had ended up on Max's. Then respective hand jobs had been given. Neither of them had really talked about it. It was just an unspoken rule now that when the pot came out so did their homoerotic tendencies.

He wasn't gay. He had decided that at least. It was just a bro taking care of another bro's needs in exchange for pot. "Do you have to go?" Oyster asked. He seemed upset. Must be the fact that he's not getting anymore pot.

"Max smirked. "Don't worry. You'll get a chance to earn some more of this later." He left a puppy dog faced Oyster in the bathroom. Max was surprised that a human could even have lips full enough to make that sort of face. If only he had been able to get those lips on his-

"Max," his sisters annoyed voice cut in, interrupting his train of thought.

"Could you keep it down about me and Oyster? Just because you caught us once doesn't give you the right to blab about it all over the school." She just gave him a satisfied look. "It's private!" He insisted through gritted teeth.

"Said the boy who's doing this private thing in a public bathroom." Before Max could make a response to his sister's smug face she continued saying, "Any way, we have bigger problems to worry about. Billy's in the nurses station... Again."

Max sighed and wondered why his brother was such a wuss. He had been getting his ass kicked for weeks now. Some douche bag named Devon. Max tried to help whenever he could but he wasn't around him that much at school because he was a grade higher. Also because he spent most my his time at school in the bathroom. Smoking pot. With Oyster.

Whenever Max asked about Devon, Billy would just say he was getting beat up because he was what Devon called, 'poor white trash.'

It was true to the extent of being poor. They didn't live in the best of neighborhoods and only really made enough money to scrape by. Which is why Max sold drugs and did a couple of other projects on the side. He never said who the money was from, always just leaving it on the table. Their parents always assumed it was from Phoebe. Which made sense. Phoebe was the boring, dutiful daughter and Max was Satan incarnate. The bad twin. It was all for the better anyway. He didn't like setting the bar high, it only made it worse when he inevitably let his parents down. It's not like they would approve of where the money was coming from anyway.

However, Max didn't really agree as far as the white trash part went. He hated that Devon kid. As if Devon could even talk. Devon lived in a trailer park, so he wasn't exactly Mr. Classy either. Max had even offered to help Billy learn to fight. If not for Billy's sake then to see Devon fall on his ass. But Billy always refused, saying he didn't want to hurt anyone. Hence, Max's never ending quest to take down Devon whenever he was around.

Phoebe and Max ended up at the nurses station, finding Billy with a blood soaked rag on his nose. "Jesus fuck Billy! Why didn't you fight back?"

"Enough, Max! Not all men prefer to act like Neanderthals." Her voice softened when she turned to Billy. "Are you okay Billy?" Phoebe knelt down to take a look at his nose, his arm, and well, a lot of things.

"I'm sorry, Max. I just don't like hurting people." Billy looked so sincere and innocent that Max couldn't bring himself to say anything snide so he just rolled his eyes. Maybe he needed to take drastic measures.

After making sure Billy was okay and making sure mom and dad wouldn't find out, he made his way back to Oyster. This happened every time with Billy. He didn't want their parents finding out so Phoebe would give them Max's number and Max would pretend to be Hank. It was easy. And Nora enjoyed putting make up on Billy's face to cover up the bruises. Max couldn't say why he went a long with it. Probably because whenever Billy asked him to his eyes would well up with tears, sniffling about how he didn't want to stress out mom and dad. How could Max say no to that? He may be evil but he loves his family.

Arriving at the bathroom, he found it empty. "Fuck!" He yelled kicking the trash can. Now he high, horny, and worst of all, alone. He made his way to the stall on the end and sat down, unzipping his pants. Being alone was one of the worst things for Max nowadays. He used to enjoy his solitude, but ever since he met Oyster it just felt too... Quiet. Without Oyster's dumb jokes or goofy attitude to fill the silence... Well, Max didn't know! It was too confusing to think about. But what he was about to do wasn't. He started stroking, nice and slow, building up a rhythm. When he looked down he expected his imagination to cook up Tara Campbell, a fellow hellion of the school. Max had had a thing for her for a while. But he wasn't picturing her he was picturing Oyster!

I'm not gay, he told himself in his mind.

Oyster's mouth had just looked really good and (fucking hell) with those eyes looking up at you while you were getting blown, who wouldn't have at least one fantasy, right? He started pumping faster, adding a little spit for lube. He whispered Oyster's name.

Not gay. Not gay. Not a fag. He kept repeating in his head.

He imagined Oyster going all the way down to his balls and moaned, "Not a- hnnnngggg!" He finished in an embarrassingly quick time. It wasn't weird, right? Thinking about Oyster? Fuck no. It couldn't be. He and Oyster were just two bro's who helped each other out. So why couldn't they help each other out in their fantasies too? Speaking of which, he really wanted a blow job from Oyster now. Fuck handjobs. Handjobs couldn't feel nearly as good as blowjobs.

He made his way out of the bathroom and decided to go home. School was pretty much over anyhow. He passed by the last row of lockers and found his eyes falling on one in particular, Devon's. A sly smile dance upon his lips and he felt a rush of adrenaline. This would be the last day Devon even thought of hurting his little bro again.

Oyster

Oyster made his way into his last class of the day with a hard-on flipped up into his waistband. Damn Max Thunderman and his—his EVERYTHING! Oyster had never been this confused in his life. The things he did while stoned with Max left him totally conflicted. Was it gay? Did it even matter? And now he wasn't even so sure that pot was the only reason he was doing it anymore. He genuinely liked Max, sure. But was he in like with him? Or the better question, was Max in like with him?

The teacher was droning on about balancing equations. As if he was so smart! If he was so smart why didn't he solve the equation of his and Max's relationship?

"Dude?" He looked over and noticed a blond haired kid named Cole. "Calm down. What are you scribbling anyway?"

Oyster looked down and noticed his notebook filled with one name so many times: Max Thunderman. He gasped and quickly slammed it shut. "Uh, none of your business bro!" He flicked the front of his face hard, causing Cole to let out a small gasp of pain and hold his nose. "Pay attention!" He quickly peeked into his notebook and shut it again.

His head dropped hard onto the desk and groaned. "Oyster!" He lifted his head at super speed and saw the teacher glowering at him. "You can be stupid on your own time! Now be so kind and tell the class the answer to this problem."

Oyster tried looking at the equation but all he could picture in his mind was: Max + Oyster =?

He groaned again answering, "Confusing!" He let his head thwunk into the desk again. The students started laughing hysterically. Normally Oyster would have been smirking because it would have been on purpose, but today he really was confused. About Max, his sexuality, and balancing mathematical equations.