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perpetual_motionTitle: A Boy from Nowhere (12/12)
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps
Pairing: Guy/Kyle
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Guy's first day back at school, his first day spending time with Kyle at school. His first day in a lot of things.
Dis: Lies and bullshit, as always.
Author's Notes: I meant for "Boy from Nowhere" to be a single, 1500 word story, but it grew, so I let it, and it fits in with other prompts for my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dcu_freeforall table, so it's grown. The prompt for this bit is "first day." Many thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lasergirl who did a read through to make sure it really was finished. It is!
Previous Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven
A Boy From Nowhere (12/12)
By Perpetual Motion
Saturday and Sunday slide past Guy in a wave of homework, headaches, and more homework. His mother and Mace offer to help, to read to him or type his papers, but Guy waves them off. "I've got it."
"You don't need to push yourself this hard, honey," his mother says. "We can help."
I don't want help, Guy thinks. "I'm gonna have to pay attention all day at school," he tells her. "That's probably going to give me headaches, too."
She looks like she wants to argue, but she rubs his shoulders, instead and gives Mace a hard look when he tries to argue.
Kyle calls him Sunday night as he's finializing his history paper for Mr. Jordan. "I was gonna see if you want to sit together at lunch," Kyle sounds like someone's daring him to ask. "I mean, if you don't want to sit with the guys you usually sit with."
Guy almost offers Kyle a seat at his usual table, but then he thinks about Tommy and the other boys and how they'd react to a well-known fag at their table. "I've got English fourth hour with Mr. Breeon."
"Up in 240?"
"Yeah."
"I've got Chem with Mr. Mogo down the hall. I can meet you in the hallway, if you want."
"Okay," Guy agrees. He considers asking Kyle to meet him out front before school the next day, but it feels desperate. "Cool."
"See you tomorrow," Kyle says and hangs up.
"You okay for tomorrow?" Mace asks Guy later that night. "You need anything?"
Guy thinks about his homework and his pills and having to talk to people tomorrow who think they know everything that's happened to him. "I'm okay," he says.
"I'll give you a ride in tomorrow," Mace offers. "I don't go on until nine."
"In your cop car?"
"Yeah."
"Sure," Guy agrees because he's pretty sure there's no way he can be inconspicuous going back to school. "But you don't get to stick me in the back."
He goes to bed convinced he won't sleep, mind to stirred up with the possibilities of the next day, of the questions people might ask, of the questions they might not. He falls asleep, he thinks, mostly due to the painkillers he's still taking. When he wakes up the next morning, it's to the sound of the blender and the sounds of the shower.
"Feeling okay?" his mother asks as she hands him his breakfast shake.
"I'm okay." Guy watches her watch him. "I'm a little freaked," he admits in an undertone like he used to when his dad was in the house. "I don't want people thinking I'm…" He doesn't know how to finish the sentence.
"Come here." She pulls him into a hug, kisses the top of his head. "People will say anything, and they'll say it twice as loud if they've got a rumor to back it up. You just…you choose which things to hear, okay? You choose what's worth correcting."
This was her life, Guy thinks as he nods and pulls away, for years and years, his mother's life was deciding what rumors about her were worth correcting. He wants to ask her questions about what to answer and how, and he has a sudden ache to know how she put up with it for so long when just this single day is terrifying him a little.
"Here," his mother says, handing him a thermos. "That should be enough to get you through the day. Do you have your note from the doctor to show your teachers that you can drink in class?"
"Yeah."
"Your homework?"
"Yeah."
"All right." She presses her palms lightly against his cheeks. "If you get to feeling tired, you call me at work, okay? I can come get you."
"Okay," Guy tells her, but he knows he won't call. If he leaves, the rumors will only get worse. "I love you, Mom."
She beams at him, smoothes his hair. "I love you, too."
Mace walks into the kitchen, uniform on, hat tucked under his arm. His hair is still damp from the shower but neatly combed away from his face. He nudges Guy with his shoulder and kisses their mother on the cheek. "Need anything today?" he asks her. "I can run by the store on my way home."
"We're fine," she says and hands him a thermos of his own. "Coffee."
"Thanks, Mom." Mace gestures to Guy. "Ready?"
"Yeah." Guy grabs his backpack from the chair, slings it over his shoulder. "Bye, Mom."
"Bye, you two."
Mace doesn't say anything to him until they're in the elevator. "Anyone gives you shit," he says, "call me, okay?"
"They'll just give me more shit for calling you," Guy points out.
Mace concedes the point with a shrug. "You nervous?"
Scared, Guy thinks, but he doesn't want to say it aloud. "I'm okay." He glances at Mace as they get off the elevator. "I'm having lunch with Kyle."
"All right," Mace grins at him. "That's good."
"Yeah," Guy agrees. "It's okay."
"Okay," Mace scoffs, but he doesn't push.
They ride to the school in silence, save Mace's police radio squawking intermittently. When Mace pulls up to the front doors, it takes Guy a second to put his hand on the door. "That Kyle?" Mace asks, leaning to see out Guy's window.
Guy follows his line of sight. "Yeah," he says when he spots Kyle standing a few feet from the doors, hands in his pockets. "I didn't know he'd be waiting."
"Isn't that cute?" Mace simpers, and he laughs when Guy shoves him away. "Sorry. But seriously, if he's waiting for you and you didn't ask, he's probably an okay guy."
"Yeah."
"And I’m so calling Mom and telling her about this."
"No!"
"I have to. She's fucking freaked about sending you back today. She's worried the stress will make you snap or something."
He thought he'd been hiding it well. "Oh," is all he says.
Mace pokes him in the side. " Get out of my car. I've got to get to work."
"Thanks," Guy says over his shoulder as he opens the door.
"See you tonight," Mace replies, and he pulls out of the lot as soon as Guy shuts the door and steps away.
Kyle grins when he spots Guy watching him. "Hey," he says.
"Hey. Are you…" There is no way to ask that question, Guy thinks, without sounding like a complete girl.
Kyle looks down at his feet. "Kinda. Yeah. I figured it probably kinda sucks to be coming back when everyone's saying shit, so I thought, you know…"
"Thanks," Guy mutters, and he tries to grin when Kyle looks at him. "It's…it's a little fucked up."
Kyle hitches his bag higher on his shoulder and shrugs. "I know what it's like to be the weird guy."
It takes Guy a second to realize Kyle's talking about when he came out. "Oh," he says. He doesn't know how to ask about it, and they're walking in the front doors of the school before he can figure it out.
The main hall is filled with students, everyone talking over one another, lockers slamming open and closed. Guy squints against the noise, grimaces when someone presses past him, knocking him in the shoulder.
"You all right?" Kyle asks, grabbing Guy by the elbow and pulling him towards the left-side wall where the crowd is a little thinner.
"The noise kinda bothers my head." Guy closes his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. When he opens his eyes again, he catches a girl staring. She turns away, whispers something to a guy standing next to her, and then he's staring. "Shit."
"We can go to the nurse's office, if you need—"
"No," Guy interrupts. "It's…" It sucks, he thinks, but he can't back down. He can't hide. "I'm gonna go to my locker," he says. "I gotta drop off some books."
"I can come with," Kyle offers. "If you want."
Guy's tempted to tell him no, tell him to stay away from him if he doesn’t want to be the weird kid again. "Okay," he says instead, because the bubble of people around him who are trying not to stare is getting larger, and Kyle doesn't seem to be phased by any of it. "I'm around the corner."
They walk to Guy's locker in silence. Kyle leans on the locker next to his while Guy works his combination. "They'll get over it," he says. "Hell, they stopped staring at me eventually, and I'm a big, scary homo."
That makes Guy grin. Kyle's pretty tall, but he's thin, and he's too nice to be really scary, Guy thinks. "Yeah," he replies, "you're a big threat."
"Just because you hang out with a bunch of over-muscled giants doesn't mean I'm small," Kyle tells him. "We wiry guys are sneaky."
Guy pulls the books for his afternoon classes out of his backpack and tosses them into his locker. "Whatever you say, man," he says. "I can still tackle your skinny ass."
"I didn't say you couldn't. I said it'd be hard."
Guy breaks a grin at that, turning his head a little to let Kyle see it. "Dude, I've been trained by Coach Kilowog. It wouldn't be that hard."
Kyle laughs as the first bell rings. He pushes off the locker and taps Guy's shoulder with his closed fist. "I gotta get across the building. I'll see you after fourth."
"Yeah," Guy agrees, and he looks away as Kyle walks away to dig in his locker for his extra notebook.
First hour is tense. Guy's calc teacher doesn't let him answer any questions and admonishes him for having so much of his homework finished. "You should be resting," she says in front of the whole class, and Guy's certain that he's going to die of embarrassment.
Second hour, his English teacher doesn't treat him any differently, but when she calls on him, the rest of the class stares while he talks. It's not the fake-interested staring that everyone uses in class. They're staring at his mouth, at the last of the bruises on his face, and when his teacher turns his back, he can see the notes getting passed around.
Third hour is his word processing class, and Guy has never been so happy that Mr. Stel prefers to lecture and have them type rather than have them have long discussions. The only thing Mr. Stel does differently than usual is nod when Guy pulls out his thermos and steps into the hall to drink down the next portion of his shake. Guy can still feel the stares in the room, but he has to stare at his computer and type. By the end of the hour, he has a headache pounding behind his eyes, and he can feel the frayed edges on his temper like they're real.
He could go to the nurse's office for his headache, Guy thinks. Hide away fourth hour while lying on a cot and giving his head a rest, but if he hides in fourth hour, he'll have to get a hall pass from the nurse for Mr. Jordan, and Mr. Jordan's out to get him, he thinks. Mr. Jordan always pushes him like he expects Guy to know everything at any moment. He can't look weak in front of Mr. Jordan.
Guy digs in his backpack for aspirin and throws back three with a drink from the water fountain. He pauses for a few seconds outside of Mr. Mogo's room, adjusting his backpack to give himself cover as he psychs himself up.
"Hey."
Guy turns, eyes widening at the sight of Kyle coming up the hall. "Hey."
"Third hour sucked," Kyle says. "Pop quiz in Geometry."
Guy pulls a face. "I took it last year. Mr. Stewart's really into those."
"I think I did okay."
"Cool." Guy doesn't know what else to say and waits for Kyle to say something else. When he doesn't, Guy adjust his backpack and bites back a sigh. "All right," he says. "I have to go to Chem."
"Did you ever notice what a slow talker Mr. Mogo is?" Kyle asks, and he grins when Guy barks a laugh. "Don't tell him I said that. He'll probably find out anyway. I think he's got some super-secret monitoring system to hear everything that's said about him."
"Fuck, I know," Guy agrees. He looks at his watch. "Okay, I'm going in."
"See you after," Kyle calls over his shoulder as he half-jogs down the hall.
Guy doesn't reply, just ducks into Mr. Mogo's room and takes his usual seat in the third row. Mr. Mogo walks in as the bell rings, moving nearly as slowly as he talks. Guy nearly falls asleep halfway through class and has to force himself to stay awake until the bell rings.
When he stands up to leave, he manages to kick over his backpack. "Shit," he mutters, and glances up to see if Mr. Mogo heard him.
"Go to lunch, Mr. Gardner," Mr. Mogo says. "I'm not in the mood to socialize."
Guy gathers his strewn pencils and scattered books and hurries out of the room. Kyle's waiting like he said he would, and he grins when he sees Guy.
"How was it?" Kyle asks, speaking at the same pace as Mr. Mogo.
"Almost fell asleep," Guy admits, "and then I spilled my shit everywhere."
Kyle laughs. "Dide he tell you to get out because he not in the mood to socialize?"
"Yeah."
"Man, when I graduate, I'm gonna paint that on his back wall." Kyle spreads his hands like he's mapping out a space for the words. "I'm not in the mood to socialize," he says, speaking slowly again.
"I'll hold the ladder," Guy offers, and he feels himself grinning, sharing the joke with Kyle. "Today has fucking sucked," Guy confides in him as they walk down the empty halls to the cafeteria. "Everybody's staring and passing notes and whispering."
"Some guy in my second hour class was asking about you," Kyle tells him. "I don't think we've ever talked, and he just started asking questions."
Guy doesn't want to ask what Kyle said. "Yeah?"
"I told him if he was so interested, he should just ask you. Told him you were a nice guy."
"And I will be," Guy agrees. "Until I rip out his spleen."
Kyle's smile fades into a sympathetic frown. "I get it," he says. "I mean, I get the feeling you're talking about. When I came out, I got three or four weeks of stares and shit. Just wait until the rumors start, then you really find out what people think about you." The frown fades into a glare before fading off his face all together.
Guy wants to tell him how badly he wanted to go to the nurse's office, how he wanted to hide from it all. "What kind of rumors?" he asks.
"Bad ones," Kyle says, and his expression is closed off, his jaw tight. "Just…bullshit mean stuff."
Guy remembers a few of the rumors, but he doesn't tell that to Kyle. "People suck," he says.
"Yeah," Kyle agrees. "Sometimes."
The cafeteria is a combination of talking people, clattering trays, and the pungent combination of heavy disinfectant and stale food smells. Kyle gets in line to get his lunch while Guy sits at an empty table and pulls his thermos from his bag. He hears whispering around him and makes himself concentrate on his thermos, unscrewing the lid and digging a fresh straw out of his backpack. He takes measured sips, doesn't look around to see who's staring. He wonders what they're saying, wonders if he'll make it to the end of the day without hiding out or hitting someone.
"Here," Kyle says as he sits on the bench next to Guy and sets down a carton of milk, "thought you could use something that doesn't look like it tastes like crud."
Guy almost tells Kyle to shove his charity, but Kyle's grinning, open and comfortable, and Guy checks his impulse, glances at his protein shake, which is beige and looks grainy, and grabs the carton of milk. "Thanks."
Kyle cuts into his Salisbury steak. "Should have brought my lunch," he says. "This stuff tastes like crap."
"I have to drink these for another three weeks, at least. I'll trade you."
Kyle eats the bite on his fork. "It tastes okay. For school food."
Guy starts to reply, but he gets a sudden spike of tension up his spine and freezes in place, trying to place it. Someone's watching him, he thinks. Someone behind him is about to make a move on him. He thinks of his father, thinks of turning around and meeting a glare and an open palm across his face. His dad always hit open-handed first.
"Guy?" Kyle asks. "You okay?"
Turn around, Guy dares himself like he always did with his dad. Turn around and face it. "Someone's about to start shit," he says.
Kyle squints at him. "What? How do you know?"
"I just know." Guy pushes his thermos away from him and turns around. Tommy's walking towards him, a football player flanking him on either side. "Shit," Guy mutters. He may not consider Tommy a friend now, but he's known him long enough he can read his face. Tommy is definitely coming over to start shit.
"Kyle—" Guy starts, but he doesn't know what to say. Run, he thinks, but one of the other guys will probably be able to grab him. "Shit." He says again to say something.
"What?" Kyle asks, and Guy feels him turning as the bench shifts. "Shit." Kyle says when he realizes what Guy's looking at.
"Dude!" Tommy practically yells, and everyone within three tables turns towards the noise. Most of them look away again, but a few people keep watching. "What are you doing over here?" He glances at Kyle, sneering. "We saved you a seat."
"I'm good," Guy replies, tone blank.
Tommy turns his sneer to Guy. "You make friends while you were out, dude?"
Guy considers how to answer. If he doesn't answer, Tommy will keep bothering him. If he gives a bland answer, Tommy will either keep baiting him or decide it's not worth the trouble. If he smarts off, Tommy will most likely throw a punch. If he smarts off, the whole thing could be over in a couple of minutes.
The bench squeaks, and Kyle stands up, picking up his tray. "I'll see you later, Guy," he says.
One of Tommy's minions blocks his exit. "You gonna abandon your boyfriend?"
The fear running through Guy gets sliced through with anger. He opens his mouth to say something, but Kyle speaks before Guy can take in a breath.
"When I have one, no."
Tommy's minion blinks. Guy laughs without meaning to, and Tommy's sneer drops into a cold glare. "Nice bruises," he says to Guy. "Your dad did a pretty good job, but I can still see where I hit you."
"I can't see where I hit you," Guy replies, "but you were always ugly, so it's harder to tell." Tommy's hands clench into fists, and Guy shifts his weight so he can jump out of the way when Tommy charges. "Asshole," he says to the minion blocking Kyle. "Get away from my boyfriend." He leaps forward as Tommy runs at him, and he catches Tommy in the stomach with his elbow.
Tommy doubles over, but he manages to club Guy in the ribs. Guy curses and yanks Tommy up by his hair, throwing him onto the table. Tommy rolls over the tabletop and lands on the bench on the other side. Guy picks up his thermos, jumps on the table, and upends his thermos over Tommy's face.
"Stay the hell away from me," Guy growls at Tommy.
"Fag." Tommy spits out, particles of Guy's shake shooting from his mouth. "Fucking fag."
Kyle, Guy thinks as Tommy continues swearing at him, and he turns on his heel just in time to see Kyle slam his tray against the side of Tommy's minion's face. The other minion steps forward, but Guy throws the thermos, deliberately missing the guy by six inches. It stops the guy in his tracks, but before Guy can jump off the table and knock him down, he spots Coach Kilowog crossing the room with Mr. Jordan and Mr. Stewart.
"Fuck."
"Gardner," Coach barks, "back off."
"Tommy—"
"Back. Off." Coach stares him down until Guy unclenches his fists. "Rayner." Coach looks away from Guy when Kyle doesn't answer. Guy follows him gaze. Kyle is standing over Tommy's minion, one hand still clutching his tray. He's breathing hard. "RAYNER!"
Kyle head whips around to look at them, the tray clattering from his hand. "What? I wasn't—he was—"
"Take Guy to the nurse's office, get him checked over."
"I'm fine," Guy says.
"It wasn't a request, Gardner. Get going."
Guy breathes in to argue, but he notices the way Kyle's paling. "Yes, Coach," he agrees, and he steps down from the table, walking over to Kyle. "C'mon." He wraps his fingers over Kyle's shoulder. Kyle follows along beside him, head down, stopping only to grab his backpack and hand Guy his.
"Nice work," Mr. Stewart says under his breath when they pass. When Guy glances up at him, Mr. Stewart smirks at him. "Keep moving," he says in a normal speaking voice. "Before Mr. Jordan and I decide to override Coach's decision to send you to the nurse."
"Yes, Sir," Guy mumbles, and he picks up his pace, Kyle keeping up as they leave the cafeteria and turn down the hallway to the nurse's office. Kyle stops short ten steps from the door, and Guy nearly falls over.
"I just hit a guy with a lunch tray," Kyle says. He blinks, shakes his head, looks at Guy. "I've never hit anyone in my life."
Guy doesn't know what to say to that. "You gonna freak?" he asks finally.
"I…I don't think so." Kyle looks down at his hands, back at Guy. "You looked like you knew what you were doing." Kyle's eyes widen. "I didn't mean—"
"Don't," Guy cuts him off. "It's not what you think. I mean, some of it is because of my dad being an asshole, but Mace and I used to wrestle around, and he'd teach me stuff."
"I—you're…" Kyle shakes his head and scrubs his hands over his head. The slightly glazed look in Kyle's eyes disappears. "You called me your boyfriend."
"Yeah." Guy can't look Kyle in the eyes. He looks over his shoulder, into the window of the empty classroom behind him. "I was—"
"Gardner."
Guy and Kyle both turn to find Coach Kilowog walking towards them. "Coach, I—"
"Rayner, it looks like you scraped your knuckles. Get the nurse to look at them. I need a minute with Gardner."
"Yes, Sir," Kyle says and steps away from Guy, Guy's hand falling from his shoulder. He gives Guy a little smile before ducking into the nurse's office.
"Sit, Gardner."
Guy slides down the wall without arguing, watches in amazement as Coach slides down next to him like he's not a huge guy. "I didn't—"
"I know you, Gardner," Coach interrupts. "I've seen you play ball for a couple of years, and I've seen you in gym class. I know what you look like when you lose your temper."
"Coach—"
"And you didn't lose it in the cafeteria." Coach looks at him, eyes narrowing. "I saw and heard the whole thing, Gardner. That was a calculated attack."
Guy scrapes his fingernails over the knees of his jeans. "I just wanted him off my back. Tommy's an asshole."
"Language."
"Sorry, Coach." Guy swallows. "They're just…they're a bunch of bullies, and they think they're hot shit—"
"Language."
"Sorry. And I'm just tired of it." Guy looks at Coach. "It's not right. Just because…"
"You called Rayner your boyfriend," Coach says. He doesn't put weight on it, but he's watching Guy closely. "I thought you'd just started hanging out."
"We have. It's just…I was…" Guy's not sure how to explain it. He had said it to antagonize Tommy, but he thinks he meant it a little. "Kyle and me have—he's a nice guy."
"I've heard nothing but good things," Coach agrees. "But if you're gonna make declarations, Poozer, you should make them when you're not trying to get punched in the face."
Guy breathes in slowly. "Yeah."
Coach doesn't say anything for a few seconds. Guy closes his eyes and lets the silence relax him. "You're not in trouble," Coach finally says, "but just barely. If you'd hit Tommy with your thermos rather than dump that goo on him," and Coach pauses to make a sound that could almost be a laugh, "you'd be written up, but Mr. Jordan, Mr. Stewart, and I think it's best if Tommy and his cohorts take this one on the chin."
"Thanks." Guy says, opening his eyes.
"But next time, take some of the willpower that kept you from pummeling the weasel and use it to keep from hitting him at all, all right? I know self-defense is self-defense, but there's a line, and you're about to throw yourself over it."
"Yes, Coach."
"Good man." Coach gets to his feet in one smooth motion. He holds out his hand and hauls Guy up after him. "Tell the nurse I okayed late passes for the both of you. Tommy's suspended from playing for the next three weeks, but he's gonna be on the bench. Don't talk to him. Don't look at him. I need him for anything, I'll be giving him the orders, okay?"
"Yes, Coach." Guy waits for him to turn and walk down the hall before he walks into the office. The end of lunch bell rings as the door closes behind him. Kyle is sitting on the edge of a cot, the nurse putting bandages on two of his knuckles. "Coach Killowog says we can get late passes from you for fifth."
"As soon as I check you over," the nurse replies, and she points to the cot on the other side of the room. "Did you get hit in the face?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Where were you hit?"
"He got me in the ribs."
"Shirt."
Guy lifts it without arguing. Kyle catches his eye as the nurse ducks to press her fingers against Guy's ribcage. Kyle pulls a face—an exaggerated pout with wide eyes and flared nostrils—and Guy has to swallow back a laugh.
"Hold still," the nurse snaps.
Guy glares at Kyle. Kyle sticks his thumbs in his ears and waves his fingers at Guy. Guy snickers. The nurse backs away and raises an eyebrow.
"Any pain when you laughed?"
"No, Ma'am."
"You're fine." She walks to her desk, pulls out a pad of late passes, and signs her name to the bottom of two slips. "Go to class." She looks at Guy's face for a long moment, gaze lingering on his jaw line. "And be careful," she says. It's not quite harsh enough to be an order. Guy wonders how many fucked up kids she's worried about over the years.
"Thank you," Kyle tells her. He shoulders his backpack and leads the way out of the office. The nurse's exam took long enough that the hallway is just as empty as it was before the bell rang. Kyle stops at the first turn off the hallway. "I've got class this way," he says with a loose gesture.
"Okay," Guy says. He doesn't step away and neither does Kyle. "I'm at the end of the hall," Guy tells him, jerking his head in the direction they were already travelling.
"I…" Kyle adjusts his backpack. "I'll see you in gym."
"Okay," Guy agrees, and he rocks back on his heels before walking off. "See you later," he calls over his shoulder.
"Yeah, later," Kyle calls from behind him.
Mr. Jordan takes the late pass with a nod, and Guy takes his usual seat in the third row without saying a word.
"Mr. Gardner," Mr. Jordan says as he picks up a dry erase marker, and Guy has to will himself to sit completely still when the entire class turns to stare at him. "Good to see you back. See me after class so I can check the progress on your make-up work."
"Yes, Sir," Guy manages to grit out. Everyone's still staring.
"Eyes front," Mr. Jordan orders. "Mr. Gardner isn't a zoo exhibit, and I’m not a zookeeper. I catch anyone staring or giggling or passing notes, it's detention."
Guy thinks his jaw would be gaping if he could actually move it. Mr. Jordan doesn't look at him at all, just starts writing notes on the board. Class goes by as it usually goes by. A few people sneak peeks at him, but no one outright stares, and Guy keeps his eyes on his notes and on Mr. Jordan and feels almost normal.
When the bell rings, Guy walks up to Mr. Jordan's lectern and hands him a stack of papers. Mr. Jordan takes the papers and flips through them, nodding approvingly. "Good work, Mr. Gardner," he says. "This looks like everything."
"It is everything," Guy says, and his usual annoyance with Mr. Jordan flares up. Did he think he wouldn't do his homework?
"I've had a few injured students in my time. Most of the time, they need a couple of weeks to catch up."
"Well, I didn't," Guy says, and he can hear the anger underlying his tone. "I can do homework with my jaw wired shut. It's not that hard."
Mr. Jordan grins. "I know. That's why I push you."
"What?"
Mr. Jordan waves him off. "Get to class, Mr. Gardner." He holds up the stack of papers. "Thanks for these. I'll get them back to you next week."
Guy wants to demand Mr. Jordan explain himself, but Mr. Jordan is turning away, and Guy knows he won't get an answer. He clenches his hands into fists and walks out of the room, shooting a glare over his shoulder as he walks to his next class. Mr. Jordan is such a dick.
People steal glances at Guy through his entire sixth hour. He hears a few whispers—"Tommy," and "fight" and "kicked his ass" and "with a tray"—and he makes note of them to tell Kyle later. To tell him that he's probably getting talked about more than Guy is now.
Coach nods at him when he walks into the gym for seventh period. "Go ahead and dress out," Coach tells him. "You're not playing today, but I'm putting you to work."
Guy nods in agreement as he opens the door to the lockerroom. When he gets to the bottom of the stairs and turns towards the changing area, no one notices. As he walks to his usual locker, the conversations start dropping off. By the time he opens his locker, it's dead silent. Don't look, he thinks. Don't let them see you squirm.
"Hey, Guy." It's Vath. He steps around a couple of silent people and leans on the locker next to Guy's. He whistles at the sight of Guy's face. "Man, you look like hell."
"It looked a lot worse a week ago," Guy answers automatically.
"I'll bet." Vath looks around the room. "What?" he asks the room at large. "Isamot can try to kick my ass every other day, and you all cheer us on, but Guy kicking some serious ass in the cafeteria makes you all scared?" Vath looks at Isamot. "Told you you weren't scary."
"Blow me," Isamot replies, and Vath hops over the bench to try and tackle him. Their scuffle breaks the silence in the room, and everyone starts talking again. Guy considers telling them to knock it off, but Isamot doesn't actually look like he's trying to hurt Vath, so he figures it's okay. He pulls off his shirt, and once he manuvers it over his head, he sees that Kyle has walked in.
"Hey," Kyle says to Guy, not quite looking at him.
"Hey," Guy replies, and he looks away before Kyle can take off his shirt.
"Poozers!" Coach Kilowog yells from the top of the stairs, "Everybody but Rayner's late for roll call, unless all of you have notes from your sixth period teachers."
Guy curses under his breath, toes off his sneakers and shucks his jeans as the rest of the guys—minus Kyle—thunder up the stairs. He starts to yank his gym T-shirt over his head and manages to hit himself in the jaw with his arm. "Fuck," he says as he sits down on the bench. His jaw throbs, and he sees stars for a second. He wrestles his T-shirt on the rest of the way, and when he gets it over his head, he sees Kyle watching him. "Hit my jaw," he says.
"Yeah, I…I saw."
Guy looks away to stand up and pull on his shorts. He sits down to put his shoes, and when he looks over, he sees Kyle watching him.
"You—" Kyle starts, but the lockerroom door bangs open.
"Gardner, injured or not, get your butt up here!" Coach yells down.
"Later," Guy mutters to Kyle as he walks up the stairs.
"About time," Coach admonishes him when he comes out of the lockerroom. He hands Guy a clipboard and pen. "You're doing inventory."
"Inventory?" Guy repeats.
"Or you can sit on the bench and let everyone stare at you all hour," Coach offers. "I'm not picky." Guy flips through the papers on the clipboard and glances back at Coach with a shrug. Coach nods. "Good. Everything in the supply room is labeled. The number we should have is the left column. Write the actual number in the right column."
"Okay," Guy says and walks to the supply room.
"And leave the door open," Coach calls after him. "School policy."
"Okay," Guy says again as he opens the door to the supply room. The supply room is well-organized, balls and mats and other equipment sorted by type. Guy looks at the top of his list. Baseballs. He finds them and starts counting. He moves onto basketballs (separated into women's and men's) and then footballs. He's starting on kickballs when Coach walks into the room and gestures for the list.
"Looks good," he says when he reviews it. "Class it about over. Go ahead and get changed."
"Already?"
Coach grins. "Yes. Get going. And go straight home."
"What about practice? I thought I was team manager."
"You are," Coach assures him, "but you're not showing up today because you decided to punch out one of your teammates, and I want to talk to him about how you two are going to avoid each other before I put you near each other."
"I won't bug him if he leaves me alone," Guy says, aggravation scratching at his temper.
"I know that, Gardner, but Tommy's kind of an idiot." Coach grins and points his thumb out the door. "Get changed. Don't forget practice on Wednesday."
"Yes, Coach," Guy says and walks around him and towards the lockerroom. It's empty, and Guy sits on the bench, meaning to take off his shoes. When he leans over, he suddenly feels absolutely exhausted. He closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, he feels just as tired. He considers stretching out on the bench for a minute or two, but the door bangs at the top of the stairs, and he jerks upright, putting his left foot on the bench to unknot his shoelaces.
No one acts awkward around him as everyone changes back into street clothes. Isamot and Vath both tap his shoulder as they leave, hollering goodbye over their shoulders. Guy nods to acknowledge them but doesn't say anything, all his concentration and energy on getting changed. It feels like it takes twenty minutes before he's back in his street clothes, but when he looks up, there are still a few stragglers in the lockerrom. Get up, Guy tells himself. You've got to get up.
"Hey."
Guy looks over. Kyle's standing by his locker, dressed in his own street clothes with his backpack hanging from one hand. "What's up?" Guy asks, and he pushes himself off the bench.
"You okay?"
"Fine."
"You look tired."
"I'm okay." Guy reaches for his backpack and misses the handle when he grabs for it the first time. He gets his fingers around it the second time, heaves it onto his shoulders. "I think I just need to not be around people." He waves at Kyle as he moves to step around him. "I'll see you—"
"You called me your boyfriend," Kyle says, and it's a little loud, echoing off the lockers.
"I'm really—"
"No," Kyle interrupts, and there's something in his eyes. Stubbornness maybe, Guy thinks. Or anger. "I know your day's been shit, but I don't want to leave it hanging, okay?"
"Kyle—"
"You called me your boyfriend," Kyle repeats. "And I know you didn't mean it. I know you did it to piss off Tommy and his friends—"
"I—"
"And if you do it again, I'll punch you," Kyle continues. "I like hanging out with you, but you don't get to say stuff like that, okay? You don't get to say it unless it's true, and you don’t get to use it to piss people off."
Guy watches the anger build and fade from Kyle's eyes. "I didn't mean to," he says. "I didn't—"
"You did it," Kyle says. He sighs. "Look, I know you're still dealing with stuff, but I've got enough problems not getting the shit kicked out of me, okay? I don't need you starting shit by invoking my queerness."
"I'm sorry." Guy jams his hands into his pockets and stares down at his shoes. "Tommy was already saying stuff, and I just wanted him to swing at me and get it over with. I…" He looks up, and Kyle's watching him, face blank. "What if you were?" he asks.
Kyle narrows his eyes. "What?"
"What if you were…" Guy shrugs. "My boyfriend. What if you were?"
"No," Kyle says quickly. "No way. No."
"Why not? You like me. I like you. We've kissed!"
"And you used a relationship you said you weren't ready for to start a fight."
Guy can't find a response to that. "I'm sorry," he says again.
"Okay," Kyle replies. He scuffs his sneaker against the floor and takes a deep breath. "Wanna walk home together?" he asks.
"Aren't you pissed?"
Kyle shrugs. "A little. But you apologized. And I figure you'll be useful if Tommy's waiting at the edge of campus."
"He's at practice," Guy says.
"Well, you still apologized." Kyle leads the way up the stairs and then leads the way out of the gym. "It was a dick move," he says when they get off campus, "but I kinda get it."
"You do?"
"Sometimes you just want to get over with it," Kyle says. "Sometimes it's just easier to get it over with."
"Yeah."
"That's why I came out when I did, you know? I could have waited until after high school, or done it over a summer break so the whole school wouldn't find out all at once, but I just wanted to be out."
"I don’t like waiting for a fight to start," Guy says. "It was always the worst part, waiting for my dad to stop yelling and start throwing things or shoving us around. At least when he was hitting me, I knew it couldn't get worse."
They walk in silence for six blocks, and then Kyle reaches out and takes Guy's hand. He laces their fingers together and steps half a step closer. "You really want to be my boyfriend?"
"I think so." Guy tightens his grip on Kyle's hand when Kyle looks like he'll pull away. "I…I don't really know how to do this, okay? I've never dated anyone. People always seem to want to hang out at each other's houses. I couldn't really bring anyone home, so I just didn't."
"And you couldn't tell your dad," Kyle adds.
"That too." Guy sees a man and woman coming in the other direction staring at his and Kyle's hands. Guy opens his mouth to say something cutting but stops when the man and woman look at each other and smile. "Huh."
"The whole world isn't out to get you," Kyle says, and he sounds like he's teasing. "I mean, sure, there's Tommy, but he's an idiot."
Guy laughs at that. "Coach said the same thing today," he tells him. "He wouldn't let me go to practice today because he has to tell Tommy to leave me alone."
"Fucking useless," Kyle mutters, and then he's laughing too.
They walk the rest of the way to Kyle's building in silence, stopping at the bottom of the stoop and looking at one another for a minute. "I can meet you here tomorrow," Guy offers. "We could walk together."
Kyle looks down, but Guy sees the way his cheeks move. He's smiling. "Okay," he says. He moves to pull away his hand. "You don't have to, you know."
"Walk with you?"
"Yeah," Kyle says. "That." But Guy can tell it's not what he's talking about.
"I might suck at it," Guy tells him. "But I think we could get through a couple of dates before you realize I'm kind of fucked up."
Kyle looks at Guy's face, not meeting his eyes but looking at his bruises. "Yeah, I figured that already."
Guy shrugs. "There you go, then. That's what I've got."
Kyle's eyebrows furrow. "Got?"
"My dad's an abusive asshole; I think my mom's still kind of a wreck. I'm being forced to talk about shit I'd rather forget about with a shrink, and I've got to deal with people at school saying shit about me whether it's true or not."
"I know that feeling."
"Yeah." Guy breathes in, loosens his grip on Kyle's hand. "So, that's it. I'm fucked up, and you seem like a cool guy, and I'm gay and kinda-out now, and I want to date you. I want you to be my boyfriend."
Kyle flushes as Guy finishes. "You have to tell your mom and Mace," he says. "We don't have to be all…boyfriend-ish…at school, but I don't want to have to pretend if I'm hanging out with you at your place, okay?"
Guy waits for the fear of telling his mom and Mace to overtake him. It doesn't come. "Okay," he says. "I will. Tonight."
"It can wait—"
"Tonight," Guy repeats. "I'm trying…" He doesn't know how to explain, how he feels like he owes his mother as much honesty as he can find to give her, a way of thanking her for trying so damned hard to watch out for him over the years. "I wanna be honest with my mom," he says.
"If she freaks at it, have her call my mom. She's got all sorts of pamphlets and books and stuff."
"She already knows I’m gay."
"Yeah, but now you're gonna be really gay, you know? You'll have a boyfriend." Kyle shrugs at Guy's look. "I know it sounds lame, but my mom freaked out a little, and she was totally cool when I came out."
And not putting her life back together after a shitty marriage, Guy thinks. "I'll tell her," he promises. He lets go of Kyle's hand completely. "Meet you here tomorrow?"
"Yeah." Kyle glances up and down the street, leans forward and kisses Guy on the mouth. "See you later."
"Bye," Guy says, and he watches Kyle climb the stoop and go inside his building. He walks home almost entirely lost in his thoughts. When he opens the door to the apartment, his mother is already there, sitting on the couch and reading a book.
"Hi, sweetie. How'd it go?"
"I'm dating Kyle," Guy says, wanting it out before anything else. "And I got into a fight with Tommy because he's an asshole, and I'm really tired."
His mother blinks and marks her place in her book. "I thought you and Kyle were just friends."
"We were," Guy replies. "And now we're dating." Saying it again, while she watches him with an unreadable expression, he feels fear start to spark in him. "He said you could talk to his mom if you need to," he adds. "I mean, if you…" He doesn't want to ask her if she's freaking out. Doesn't want to ask if this suddenly changes everything all over again. "I like him," he says quietly.
His mother smiles and stands up, walks over and pulls him into a hug. "He's a very nice young man," she says. "I think it's a bit fast, but you've always been very determined to go forward when you make up your mind about something."
"I'll tell Mace at dinner," Guy says, and he presses his face to his mother's shoulder, tears welling in his eyes.
"Mace likes Kyle, too," his mother says. She pets the back of Guy's head softly. "Honey?"
Guy can't answer, he's crying, eyes screwed shut to pretend that he isn't. He tries to breathe in, and his whole body just shakes instead. He hugs his mom tighter, feels her hug him back just as hard. "Life sucked," he gets out, and it's stuttery and broken, but he feels his mother shift to kiss the side of his head.
"I know, baby," and he can't remember the last time she called him that. His father had forbade it when he was in elementary school. Said it made him a pussy. "It's gonna be better now."
It is, Guy thinks. It already is, but he's crying too hard to saying anything else, letting his mother hug him like she hasn't done since he was in junior high.
"I'm glad about Kyle," his mother says, and her voice is wavering. "And I'm glad you're here, and that you and Mace are getting along, and I'm glad you can still hug me."
How could I stop, Guy thinks. "You're my mom," he gets out. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she says, and he feels tears in his hair.
Maybe he's not so fucked up, Guy thinks. When Mace comes home, sees their stained faces and suddenly crumples onto the couch, Guy decides he's not fucked up at all.
"I wish—" Mace starts, and Guy shoves at his shoulder.
"Shut up," he says, and he leans against Mace's side. We did what we could, he thinks. "You look stupid when you cry."
Mace doesn't respond, just throws an arm around his shoulder, reels Guy in close. "Least I can breathe through my mouth."
"I'm dating Kyle," Guy tells him. "And I punched out Tommy for being a dick."
"Good," Mace says. "For both of them."
Their mother shakes her head at them and stands up. "Let's all wash our faces and have dinner," she says. "Let's order out. We're celebrating."
"What are we celebrating?" Mace asks, wiping his face with a swipe of his sleeve.
"Everything," she replies. "Being a family."
Not being broken, Guy thinks. "The fact that I have a boyfriend and you're still single and sad," he says to Mace.
"Big achievement," Mace replies, standing up and pulling Guy along with him. "Kyle's just as lame as you."
"You'll be good together," his mother says.
"Yeah," Guy agrees. "Probably."
And that's the curtain, folks. Thank you, everyone, who's been so kind with feedback and enjoyed the story so much. I hope the ending suits.
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps
Pairing: Guy/Kyle
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Guy's first day back at school, his first day spending time with Kyle at school. His first day in a lot of things.
Dis: Lies and bullshit, as always.
Author's Notes: I meant for "Boy from Nowhere" to be a single, 1500 word story, but it grew, so I let it, and it fits in with other prompts for my
dcu_freeforall table, so it's grown. The prompt for this bit is "first day." Many thanks to lasergirl who did a read through to make sure it really was finished. It is!Previous Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven
A Boy From Nowhere (12/12)
By Perpetual Motion
Saturday and Sunday slide past Guy in a wave of homework, headaches, and more homework. His mother and Mace offer to help, to read to him or type his papers, but Guy waves them off. "I've got it."
"You don't need to push yourself this hard, honey," his mother says. "We can help."
I don't want help, Guy thinks. "I'm gonna have to pay attention all day at school," he tells her. "That's probably going to give me headaches, too."
She looks like she wants to argue, but she rubs his shoulders, instead and gives Mace a hard look when he tries to argue.
Kyle calls him Sunday night as he's finializing his history paper for Mr. Jordan. "I was gonna see if you want to sit together at lunch," Kyle sounds like someone's daring him to ask. "I mean, if you don't want to sit with the guys you usually sit with."
Guy almost offers Kyle a seat at his usual table, but then he thinks about Tommy and the other boys and how they'd react to a well-known fag at their table. "I've got English fourth hour with Mr. Breeon."
"Up in 240?"
"Yeah."
"I've got Chem with Mr. Mogo down the hall. I can meet you in the hallway, if you want."
"Okay," Guy agrees. He considers asking Kyle to meet him out front before school the next day, but it feels desperate. "Cool."
"See you tomorrow," Kyle says and hangs up.
"You okay for tomorrow?" Mace asks Guy later that night. "You need anything?"
Guy thinks about his homework and his pills and having to talk to people tomorrow who think they know everything that's happened to him. "I'm okay," he says.
"I'll give you a ride in tomorrow," Mace offers. "I don't go on until nine."
"In your cop car?"
"Yeah."
"Sure," Guy agrees because he's pretty sure there's no way he can be inconspicuous going back to school. "But you don't get to stick me in the back."
He goes to bed convinced he won't sleep, mind to stirred up with the possibilities of the next day, of the questions people might ask, of the questions they might not. He falls asleep, he thinks, mostly due to the painkillers he's still taking. When he wakes up the next morning, it's to the sound of the blender and the sounds of the shower.
"Feeling okay?" his mother asks as she hands him his breakfast shake.
"I'm okay." Guy watches her watch him. "I'm a little freaked," he admits in an undertone like he used to when his dad was in the house. "I don't want people thinking I'm…" He doesn't know how to finish the sentence.
"Come here." She pulls him into a hug, kisses the top of his head. "People will say anything, and they'll say it twice as loud if they've got a rumor to back it up. You just…you choose which things to hear, okay? You choose what's worth correcting."
This was her life, Guy thinks as he nods and pulls away, for years and years, his mother's life was deciding what rumors about her were worth correcting. He wants to ask her questions about what to answer and how, and he has a sudden ache to know how she put up with it for so long when just this single day is terrifying him a little.
"Here," his mother says, handing him a thermos. "That should be enough to get you through the day. Do you have your note from the doctor to show your teachers that you can drink in class?"
"Yeah."
"Your homework?"
"Yeah."
"All right." She presses her palms lightly against his cheeks. "If you get to feeling tired, you call me at work, okay? I can come get you."
"Okay," Guy tells her, but he knows he won't call. If he leaves, the rumors will only get worse. "I love you, Mom."
She beams at him, smoothes his hair. "I love you, too."
Mace walks into the kitchen, uniform on, hat tucked under his arm. His hair is still damp from the shower but neatly combed away from his face. He nudges Guy with his shoulder and kisses their mother on the cheek. "Need anything today?" he asks her. "I can run by the store on my way home."
"We're fine," she says and hands him a thermos of his own. "Coffee."
"Thanks, Mom." Mace gestures to Guy. "Ready?"
"Yeah." Guy grabs his backpack from the chair, slings it over his shoulder. "Bye, Mom."
"Bye, you two."
Mace doesn't say anything to him until they're in the elevator. "Anyone gives you shit," he says, "call me, okay?"
"They'll just give me more shit for calling you," Guy points out.
Mace concedes the point with a shrug. "You nervous?"
Scared, Guy thinks, but he doesn't want to say it aloud. "I'm okay." He glances at Mace as they get off the elevator. "I'm having lunch with Kyle."
"All right," Mace grins at him. "That's good."
"Yeah," Guy agrees. "It's okay."
"Okay," Mace scoffs, but he doesn't push.
They ride to the school in silence, save Mace's police radio squawking intermittently. When Mace pulls up to the front doors, it takes Guy a second to put his hand on the door. "That Kyle?" Mace asks, leaning to see out Guy's window.
Guy follows his line of sight. "Yeah," he says when he spots Kyle standing a few feet from the doors, hands in his pockets. "I didn't know he'd be waiting."
"Isn't that cute?" Mace simpers, and he laughs when Guy shoves him away. "Sorry. But seriously, if he's waiting for you and you didn't ask, he's probably an okay guy."
"Yeah."
"And I’m so calling Mom and telling her about this."
"No!"
"I have to. She's fucking freaked about sending you back today. She's worried the stress will make you snap or something."
He thought he'd been hiding it well. "Oh," is all he says.
Mace pokes him in the side. " Get out of my car. I've got to get to work."
"Thanks," Guy says over his shoulder as he opens the door.
"See you tonight," Mace replies, and he pulls out of the lot as soon as Guy shuts the door and steps away.
Kyle grins when he spots Guy watching him. "Hey," he says.
"Hey. Are you…" There is no way to ask that question, Guy thinks, without sounding like a complete girl.
Kyle looks down at his feet. "Kinda. Yeah. I figured it probably kinda sucks to be coming back when everyone's saying shit, so I thought, you know…"
"Thanks," Guy mutters, and he tries to grin when Kyle looks at him. "It's…it's a little fucked up."
Kyle hitches his bag higher on his shoulder and shrugs. "I know what it's like to be the weird guy."
It takes Guy a second to realize Kyle's talking about when he came out. "Oh," he says. He doesn't know how to ask about it, and they're walking in the front doors of the school before he can figure it out.
The main hall is filled with students, everyone talking over one another, lockers slamming open and closed. Guy squints against the noise, grimaces when someone presses past him, knocking him in the shoulder.
"You all right?" Kyle asks, grabbing Guy by the elbow and pulling him towards the left-side wall where the crowd is a little thinner.
"The noise kinda bothers my head." Guy closes his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. When he opens his eyes again, he catches a girl staring. She turns away, whispers something to a guy standing next to her, and then he's staring. "Shit."
"We can go to the nurse's office, if you need—"
"No," Guy interrupts. "It's…" It sucks, he thinks, but he can't back down. He can't hide. "I'm gonna go to my locker," he says. "I gotta drop off some books."
"I can come with," Kyle offers. "If you want."
Guy's tempted to tell him no, tell him to stay away from him if he doesn’t want to be the weird kid again. "Okay," he says instead, because the bubble of people around him who are trying not to stare is getting larger, and Kyle doesn't seem to be phased by any of it. "I'm around the corner."
They walk to Guy's locker in silence. Kyle leans on the locker next to his while Guy works his combination. "They'll get over it," he says. "Hell, they stopped staring at me eventually, and I'm a big, scary homo."
That makes Guy grin. Kyle's pretty tall, but he's thin, and he's too nice to be really scary, Guy thinks. "Yeah," he replies, "you're a big threat."
"Just because you hang out with a bunch of over-muscled giants doesn't mean I'm small," Kyle tells him. "We wiry guys are sneaky."
Guy pulls the books for his afternoon classes out of his backpack and tosses them into his locker. "Whatever you say, man," he says. "I can still tackle your skinny ass."
"I didn't say you couldn't. I said it'd be hard."
Guy breaks a grin at that, turning his head a little to let Kyle see it. "Dude, I've been trained by Coach Kilowog. It wouldn't be that hard."
Kyle laughs as the first bell rings. He pushes off the locker and taps Guy's shoulder with his closed fist. "I gotta get across the building. I'll see you after fourth."
"Yeah," Guy agrees, and he looks away as Kyle walks away to dig in his locker for his extra notebook.
First hour is tense. Guy's calc teacher doesn't let him answer any questions and admonishes him for having so much of his homework finished. "You should be resting," she says in front of the whole class, and Guy's certain that he's going to die of embarrassment.
Second hour, his English teacher doesn't treat him any differently, but when she calls on him, the rest of the class stares while he talks. It's not the fake-interested staring that everyone uses in class. They're staring at his mouth, at the last of the bruises on his face, and when his teacher turns his back, he can see the notes getting passed around.
Third hour is his word processing class, and Guy has never been so happy that Mr. Stel prefers to lecture and have them type rather than have them have long discussions. The only thing Mr. Stel does differently than usual is nod when Guy pulls out his thermos and steps into the hall to drink down the next portion of his shake. Guy can still feel the stares in the room, but he has to stare at his computer and type. By the end of the hour, he has a headache pounding behind his eyes, and he can feel the frayed edges on his temper like they're real.
He could go to the nurse's office for his headache, Guy thinks. Hide away fourth hour while lying on a cot and giving his head a rest, but if he hides in fourth hour, he'll have to get a hall pass from the nurse for Mr. Jordan, and Mr. Jordan's out to get him, he thinks. Mr. Jordan always pushes him like he expects Guy to know everything at any moment. He can't look weak in front of Mr. Jordan.
Guy digs in his backpack for aspirin and throws back three with a drink from the water fountain. He pauses for a few seconds outside of Mr. Mogo's room, adjusting his backpack to give himself cover as he psychs himself up.
"Hey."
Guy turns, eyes widening at the sight of Kyle coming up the hall. "Hey."
"Third hour sucked," Kyle says. "Pop quiz in Geometry."
Guy pulls a face. "I took it last year. Mr. Stewart's really into those."
"I think I did okay."
"Cool." Guy doesn't know what else to say and waits for Kyle to say something else. When he doesn't, Guy adjust his backpack and bites back a sigh. "All right," he says. "I have to go to Chem."
"Did you ever notice what a slow talker Mr. Mogo is?" Kyle asks, and he grins when Guy barks a laugh. "Don't tell him I said that. He'll probably find out anyway. I think he's got some super-secret monitoring system to hear everything that's said about him."
"Fuck, I know," Guy agrees. He looks at his watch. "Okay, I'm going in."
"See you after," Kyle calls over his shoulder as he half-jogs down the hall.
Guy doesn't reply, just ducks into Mr. Mogo's room and takes his usual seat in the third row. Mr. Mogo walks in as the bell rings, moving nearly as slowly as he talks. Guy nearly falls asleep halfway through class and has to force himself to stay awake until the bell rings.
When he stands up to leave, he manages to kick over his backpack. "Shit," he mutters, and glances up to see if Mr. Mogo heard him.
"Go to lunch, Mr. Gardner," Mr. Mogo says. "I'm not in the mood to socialize."
Guy gathers his strewn pencils and scattered books and hurries out of the room. Kyle's waiting like he said he would, and he grins when he sees Guy.
"How was it?" Kyle asks, speaking at the same pace as Mr. Mogo.
"Almost fell asleep," Guy admits, "and then I spilled my shit everywhere."
Kyle laughs. "Dide he tell you to get out because he not in the mood to socialize?"
"Yeah."
"Man, when I graduate, I'm gonna paint that on his back wall." Kyle spreads his hands like he's mapping out a space for the words. "I'm not in the mood to socialize," he says, speaking slowly again.
"I'll hold the ladder," Guy offers, and he feels himself grinning, sharing the joke with Kyle. "Today has fucking sucked," Guy confides in him as they walk down the empty halls to the cafeteria. "Everybody's staring and passing notes and whispering."
"Some guy in my second hour class was asking about you," Kyle tells him. "I don't think we've ever talked, and he just started asking questions."
Guy doesn't want to ask what Kyle said. "Yeah?"
"I told him if he was so interested, he should just ask you. Told him you were a nice guy."
"And I will be," Guy agrees. "Until I rip out his spleen."
Kyle's smile fades into a sympathetic frown. "I get it," he says. "I mean, I get the feeling you're talking about. When I came out, I got three or four weeks of stares and shit. Just wait until the rumors start, then you really find out what people think about you." The frown fades into a glare before fading off his face all together.
Guy wants to tell him how badly he wanted to go to the nurse's office, how he wanted to hide from it all. "What kind of rumors?" he asks.
"Bad ones," Kyle says, and his expression is closed off, his jaw tight. "Just…bullshit mean stuff."
Guy remembers a few of the rumors, but he doesn't tell that to Kyle. "People suck," he says.
"Yeah," Kyle agrees. "Sometimes."
The cafeteria is a combination of talking people, clattering trays, and the pungent combination of heavy disinfectant and stale food smells. Kyle gets in line to get his lunch while Guy sits at an empty table and pulls his thermos from his bag. He hears whispering around him and makes himself concentrate on his thermos, unscrewing the lid and digging a fresh straw out of his backpack. He takes measured sips, doesn't look around to see who's staring. He wonders what they're saying, wonders if he'll make it to the end of the day without hiding out or hitting someone.
"Here," Kyle says as he sits on the bench next to Guy and sets down a carton of milk, "thought you could use something that doesn't look like it tastes like crud."
Guy almost tells Kyle to shove his charity, but Kyle's grinning, open and comfortable, and Guy checks his impulse, glances at his protein shake, which is beige and looks grainy, and grabs the carton of milk. "Thanks."
Kyle cuts into his Salisbury steak. "Should have brought my lunch," he says. "This stuff tastes like crap."
"I have to drink these for another three weeks, at least. I'll trade you."
Kyle eats the bite on his fork. "It tastes okay. For school food."
Guy starts to reply, but he gets a sudden spike of tension up his spine and freezes in place, trying to place it. Someone's watching him, he thinks. Someone behind him is about to make a move on him. He thinks of his father, thinks of turning around and meeting a glare and an open palm across his face. His dad always hit open-handed first.
"Guy?" Kyle asks. "You okay?"
Turn around, Guy dares himself like he always did with his dad. Turn around and face it. "Someone's about to start shit," he says.
Kyle squints at him. "What? How do you know?"
"I just know." Guy pushes his thermos away from him and turns around. Tommy's walking towards him, a football player flanking him on either side. "Shit," Guy mutters. He may not consider Tommy a friend now, but he's known him long enough he can read his face. Tommy is definitely coming over to start shit.
"Kyle—" Guy starts, but he doesn't know what to say. Run, he thinks, but one of the other guys will probably be able to grab him. "Shit." He says again to say something.
"What?" Kyle asks, and Guy feels him turning as the bench shifts. "Shit." Kyle says when he realizes what Guy's looking at.
"Dude!" Tommy practically yells, and everyone within three tables turns towards the noise. Most of them look away again, but a few people keep watching. "What are you doing over here?" He glances at Kyle, sneering. "We saved you a seat."
"I'm good," Guy replies, tone blank.
Tommy turns his sneer to Guy. "You make friends while you were out, dude?"
Guy considers how to answer. If he doesn't answer, Tommy will keep bothering him. If he gives a bland answer, Tommy will either keep baiting him or decide it's not worth the trouble. If he smarts off, Tommy will most likely throw a punch. If he smarts off, the whole thing could be over in a couple of minutes.
The bench squeaks, and Kyle stands up, picking up his tray. "I'll see you later, Guy," he says.
One of Tommy's minions blocks his exit. "You gonna abandon your boyfriend?"
The fear running through Guy gets sliced through with anger. He opens his mouth to say something, but Kyle speaks before Guy can take in a breath.
"When I have one, no."
Tommy's minion blinks. Guy laughs without meaning to, and Tommy's sneer drops into a cold glare. "Nice bruises," he says to Guy. "Your dad did a pretty good job, but I can still see where I hit you."
"I can't see where I hit you," Guy replies, "but you were always ugly, so it's harder to tell." Tommy's hands clench into fists, and Guy shifts his weight so he can jump out of the way when Tommy charges. "Asshole," he says to the minion blocking Kyle. "Get away from my boyfriend." He leaps forward as Tommy runs at him, and he catches Tommy in the stomach with his elbow.
Tommy doubles over, but he manages to club Guy in the ribs. Guy curses and yanks Tommy up by his hair, throwing him onto the table. Tommy rolls over the tabletop and lands on the bench on the other side. Guy picks up his thermos, jumps on the table, and upends his thermos over Tommy's face.
"Stay the hell away from me," Guy growls at Tommy.
"Fag." Tommy spits out, particles of Guy's shake shooting from his mouth. "Fucking fag."
Kyle, Guy thinks as Tommy continues swearing at him, and he turns on his heel just in time to see Kyle slam his tray against the side of Tommy's minion's face. The other minion steps forward, but Guy throws the thermos, deliberately missing the guy by six inches. It stops the guy in his tracks, but before Guy can jump off the table and knock him down, he spots Coach Kilowog crossing the room with Mr. Jordan and Mr. Stewart.
"Fuck."
"Gardner," Coach barks, "back off."
"Tommy—"
"Back. Off." Coach stares him down until Guy unclenches his fists. "Rayner." Coach looks away from Guy when Kyle doesn't answer. Guy follows him gaze. Kyle is standing over Tommy's minion, one hand still clutching his tray. He's breathing hard. "RAYNER!"
Kyle head whips around to look at them, the tray clattering from his hand. "What? I wasn't—he was—"
"Take Guy to the nurse's office, get him checked over."
"I'm fine," Guy says.
"It wasn't a request, Gardner. Get going."
Guy breathes in to argue, but he notices the way Kyle's paling. "Yes, Coach," he agrees, and he steps down from the table, walking over to Kyle. "C'mon." He wraps his fingers over Kyle's shoulder. Kyle follows along beside him, head down, stopping only to grab his backpack and hand Guy his.
"Nice work," Mr. Stewart says under his breath when they pass. When Guy glances up at him, Mr. Stewart smirks at him. "Keep moving," he says in a normal speaking voice. "Before Mr. Jordan and I decide to override Coach's decision to send you to the nurse."
"Yes, Sir," Guy mumbles, and he picks up his pace, Kyle keeping up as they leave the cafeteria and turn down the hallway to the nurse's office. Kyle stops short ten steps from the door, and Guy nearly falls over.
"I just hit a guy with a lunch tray," Kyle says. He blinks, shakes his head, looks at Guy. "I've never hit anyone in my life."
Guy doesn't know what to say to that. "You gonna freak?" he asks finally.
"I…I don't think so." Kyle looks down at his hands, back at Guy. "You looked like you knew what you were doing." Kyle's eyes widen. "I didn't mean—"
"Don't," Guy cuts him off. "It's not what you think. I mean, some of it is because of my dad being an asshole, but Mace and I used to wrestle around, and he'd teach me stuff."
"I—you're…" Kyle shakes his head and scrubs his hands over his head. The slightly glazed look in Kyle's eyes disappears. "You called me your boyfriend."
"Yeah." Guy can't look Kyle in the eyes. He looks over his shoulder, into the window of the empty classroom behind him. "I was—"
"Gardner."
Guy and Kyle both turn to find Coach Kilowog walking towards them. "Coach, I—"
"Rayner, it looks like you scraped your knuckles. Get the nurse to look at them. I need a minute with Gardner."
"Yes, Sir," Kyle says and steps away from Guy, Guy's hand falling from his shoulder. He gives Guy a little smile before ducking into the nurse's office.
"Sit, Gardner."
Guy slides down the wall without arguing, watches in amazement as Coach slides down next to him like he's not a huge guy. "I didn't—"
"I know you, Gardner," Coach interrupts. "I've seen you play ball for a couple of years, and I've seen you in gym class. I know what you look like when you lose your temper."
"Coach—"
"And you didn't lose it in the cafeteria." Coach looks at him, eyes narrowing. "I saw and heard the whole thing, Gardner. That was a calculated attack."
Guy scrapes his fingernails over the knees of his jeans. "I just wanted him off my back. Tommy's an asshole."
"Language."
"Sorry, Coach." Guy swallows. "They're just…they're a bunch of bullies, and they think they're hot shit—"
"Language."
"Sorry. And I'm just tired of it." Guy looks at Coach. "It's not right. Just because…"
"You called Rayner your boyfriend," Coach says. He doesn't put weight on it, but he's watching Guy closely. "I thought you'd just started hanging out."
"We have. It's just…I was…" Guy's not sure how to explain it. He had said it to antagonize Tommy, but he thinks he meant it a little. "Kyle and me have—he's a nice guy."
"I've heard nothing but good things," Coach agrees. "But if you're gonna make declarations, Poozer, you should make them when you're not trying to get punched in the face."
Guy breathes in slowly. "Yeah."
Coach doesn't say anything for a few seconds. Guy closes his eyes and lets the silence relax him. "You're not in trouble," Coach finally says, "but just barely. If you'd hit Tommy with your thermos rather than dump that goo on him," and Coach pauses to make a sound that could almost be a laugh, "you'd be written up, but Mr. Jordan, Mr. Stewart, and I think it's best if Tommy and his cohorts take this one on the chin."
"Thanks." Guy says, opening his eyes.
"But next time, take some of the willpower that kept you from pummeling the weasel and use it to keep from hitting him at all, all right? I know self-defense is self-defense, but there's a line, and you're about to throw yourself over it."
"Yes, Coach."
"Good man." Coach gets to his feet in one smooth motion. He holds out his hand and hauls Guy up after him. "Tell the nurse I okayed late passes for the both of you. Tommy's suspended from playing for the next three weeks, but he's gonna be on the bench. Don't talk to him. Don't look at him. I need him for anything, I'll be giving him the orders, okay?"
"Yes, Coach." Guy waits for him to turn and walk down the hall before he walks into the office. The end of lunch bell rings as the door closes behind him. Kyle is sitting on the edge of a cot, the nurse putting bandages on two of his knuckles. "Coach Killowog says we can get late passes from you for fifth."
"As soon as I check you over," the nurse replies, and she points to the cot on the other side of the room. "Did you get hit in the face?"
"No, Ma'am."
"Where were you hit?"
"He got me in the ribs."
"Shirt."
Guy lifts it without arguing. Kyle catches his eye as the nurse ducks to press her fingers against Guy's ribcage. Kyle pulls a face—an exaggerated pout with wide eyes and flared nostrils—and Guy has to swallow back a laugh.
"Hold still," the nurse snaps.
Guy glares at Kyle. Kyle sticks his thumbs in his ears and waves his fingers at Guy. Guy snickers. The nurse backs away and raises an eyebrow.
"Any pain when you laughed?"
"No, Ma'am."
"You're fine." She walks to her desk, pulls out a pad of late passes, and signs her name to the bottom of two slips. "Go to class." She looks at Guy's face for a long moment, gaze lingering on his jaw line. "And be careful," she says. It's not quite harsh enough to be an order. Guy wonders how many fucked up kids she's worried about over the years.
"Thank you," Kyle tells her. He shoulders his backpack and leads the way out of the office. The nurse's exam took long enough that the hallway is just as empty as it was before the bell rang. Kyle stops at the first turn off the hallway. "I've got class this way," he says with a loose gesture.
"Okay," Guy says. He doesn't step away and neither does Kyle. "I'm at the end of the hall," Guy tells him, jerking his head in the direction they were already travelling.
"I…" Kyle adjusts his backpack. "I'll see you in gym."
"Okay," Guy agrees, and he rocks back on his heels before walking off. "See you later," he calls over his shoulder.
"Yeah, later," Kyle calls from behind him.
Mr. Jordan takes the late pass with a nod, and Guy takes his usual seat in the third row without saying a word.
"Mr. Gardner," Mr. Jordan says as he picks up a dry erase marker, and Guy has to will himself to sit completely still when the entire class turns to stare at him. "Good to see you back. See me after class so I can check the progress on your make-up work."
"Yes, Sir," Guy manages to grit out. Everyone's still staring.
"Eyes front," Mr. Jordan orders. "Mr. Gardner isn't a zoo exhibit, and I’m not a zookeeper. I catch anyone staring or giggling or passing notes, it's detention."
Guy thinks his jaw would be gaping if he could actually move it. Mr. Jordan doesn't look at him at all, just starts writing notes on the board. Class goes by as it usually goes by. A few people sneak peeks at him, but no one outright stares, and Guy keeps his eyes on his notes and on Mr. Jordan and feels almost normal.
When the bell rings, Guy walks up to Mr. Jordan's lectern and hands him a stack of papers. Mr. Jordan takes the papers and flips through them, nodding approvingly. "Good work, Mr. Gardner," he says. "This looks like everything."
"It is everything," Guy says, and his usual annoyance with Mr. Jordan flares up. Did he think he wouldn't do his homework?
"I've had a few injured students in my time. Most of the time, they need a couple of weeks to catch up."
"Well, I didn't," Guy says, and he can hear the anger underlying his tone. "I can do homework with my jaw wired shut. It's not that hard."
Mr. Jordan grins. "I know. That's why I push you."
"What?"
Mr. Jordan waves him off. "Get to class, Mr. Gardner." He holds up the stack of papers. "Thanks for these. I'll get them back to you next week."
Guy wants to demand Mr. Jordan explain himself, but Mr. Jordan is turning away, and Guy knows he won't get an answer. He clenches his hands into fists and walks out of the room, shooting a glare over his shoulder as he walks to his next class. Mr. Jordan is such a dick.
People steal glances at Guy through his entire sixth hour. He hears a few whispers—"Tommy," and "fight" and "kicked his ass" and "with a tray"—and he makes note of them to tell Kyle later. To tell him that he's probably getting talked about more than Guy is now.
Coach nods at him when he walks into the gym for seventh period. "Go ahead and dress out," Coach tells him. "You're not playing today, but I'm putting you to work."
Guy nods in agreement as he opens the door to the lockerroom. When he gets to the bottom of the stairs and turns towards the changing area, no one notices. As he walks to his usual locker, the conversations start dropping off. By the time he opens his locker, it's dead silent. Don't look, he thinks. Don't let them see you squirm.
"Hey, Guy." It's Vath. He steps around a couple of silent people and leans on the locker next to Guy's. He whistles at the sight of Guy's face. "Man, you look like hell."
"It looked a lot worse a week ago," Guy answers automatically.
"I'll bet." Vath looks around the room. "What?" he asks the room at large. "Isamot can try to kick my ass every other day, and you all cheer us on, but Guy kicking some serious ass in the cafeteria makes you all scared?" Vath looks at Isamot. "Told you you weren't scary."
"Blow me," Isamot replies, and Vath hops over the bench to try and tackle him. Their scuffle breaks the silence in the room, and everyone starts talking again. Guy considers telling them to knock it off, but Isamot doesn't actually look like he's trying to hurt Vath, so he figures it's okay. He pulls off his shirt, and once he manuvers it over his head, he sees that Kyle has walked in.
"Hey," Kyle says to Guy, not quite looking at him.
"Hey," Guy replies, and he looks away before Kyle can take off his shirt.
"Poozers!" Coach Kilowog yells from the top of the stairs, "Everybody but Rayner's late for roll call, unless all of you have notes from your sixth period teachers."
Guy curses under his breath, toes off his sneakers and shucks his jeans as the rest of the guys—minus Kyle—thunder up the stairs. He starts to yank his gym T-shirt over his head and manages to hit himself in the jaw with his arm. "Fuck," he says as he sits down on the bench. His jaw throbs, and he sees stars for a second. He wrestles his T-shirt on the rest of the way, and when he gets it over his head, he sees Kyle watching him. "Hit my jaw," he says.
"Yeah, I…I saw."
Guy looks away to stand up and pull on his shorts. He sits down to put his shoes, and when he looks over, he sees Kyle watching him.
"You—" Kyle starts, but the lockerroom door bangs open.
"Gardner, injured or not, get your butt up here!" Coach yells down.
"Later," Guy mutters to Kyle as he walks up the stairs.
"About time," Coach admonishes him when he comes out of the lockerroom. He hands Guy a clipboard and pen. "You're doing inventory."
"Inventory?" Guy repeats.
"Or you can sit on the bench and let everyone stare at you all hour," Coach offers. "I'm not picky." Guy flips through the papers on the clipboard and glances back at Coach with a shrug. Coach nods. "Good. Everything in the supply room is labeled. The number we should have is the left column. Write the actual number in the right column."
"Okay," Guy says and walks to the supply room.
"And leave the door open," Coach calls after him. "School policy."
"Okay," Guy says again as he opens the door to the supply room. The supply room is well-organized, balls and mats and other equipment sorted by type. Guy looks at the top of his list. Baseballs. He finds them and starts counting. He moves onto basketballs (separated into women's and men's) and then footballs. He's starting on kickballs when Coach walks into the room and gestures for the list.
"Looks good," he says when he reviews it. "Class it about over. Go ahead and get changed."
"Already?"
Coach grins. "Yes. Get going. And go straight home."
"What about practice? I thought I was team manager."
"You are," Coach assures him, "but you're not showing up today because you decided to punch out one of your teammates, and I want to talk to him about how you two are going to avoid each other before I put you near each other."
"I won't bug him if he leaves me alone," Guy says, aggravation scratching at his temper.
"I know that, Gardner, but Tommy's kind of an idiot." Coach grins and points his thumb out the door. "Get changed. Don't forget practice on Wednesday."
"Yes, Coach," Guy says and walks around him and towards the lockerroom. It's empty, and Guy sits on the bench, meaning to take off his shoes. When he leans over, he suddenly feels absolutely exhausted. He closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, he feels just as tired. He considers stretching out on the bench for a minute or two, but the door bangs at the top of the stairs, and he jerks upright, putting his left foot on the bench to unknot his shoelaces.
No one acts awkward around him as everyone changes back into street clothes. Isamot and Vath both tap his shoulder as they leave, hollering goodbye over their shoulders. Guy nods to acknowledge them but doesn't say anything, all his concentration and energy on getting changed. It feels like it takes twenty minutes before he's back in his street clothes, but when he looks up, there are still a few stragglers in the lockerrom. Get up, Guy tells himself. You've got to get up.
"Hey."
Guy looks over. Kyle's standing by his locker, dressed in his own street clothes with his backpack hanging from one hand. "What's up?" Guy asks, and he pushes himself off the bench.
"You okay?"
"Fine."
"You look tired."
"I'm okay." Guy reaches for his backpack and misses the handle when he grabs for it the first time. He gets his fingers around it the second time, heaves it onto his shoulders. "I think I just need to not be around people." He waves at Kyle as he moves to step around him. "I'll see you—"
"You called me your boyfriend," Kyle says, and it's a little loud, echoing off the lockers.
"I'm really—"
"No," Kyle interrupts, and there's something in his eyes. Stubbornness maybe, Guy thinks. Or anger. "I know your day's been shit, but I don't want to leave it hanging, okay?"
"Kyle—"
"You called me your boyfriend," Kyle repeats. "And I know you didn't mean it. I know you did it to piss off Tommy and his friends—"
"I—"
"And if you do it again, I'll punch you," Kyle continues. "I like hanging out with you, but you don't get to say stuff like that, okay? You don't get to say it unless it's true, and you don’t get to use it to piss people off."
Guy watches the anger build and fade from Kyle's eyes. "I didn't mean to," he says. "I didn't—"
"You did it," Kyle says. He sighs. "Look, I know you're still dealing with stuff, but I've got enough problems not getting the shit kicked out of me, okay? I don't need you starting shit by invoking my queerness."
"I'm sorry." Guy jams his hands into his pockets and stares down at his shoes. "Tommy was already saying stuff, and I just wanted him to swing at me and get it over with. I…" He looks up, and Kyle's watching him, face blank. "What if you were?" he asks.
Kyle narrows his eyes. "What?"
"What if you were…" Guy shrugs. "My boyfriend. What if you were?"
"No," Kyle says quickly. "No way. No."
"Why not? You like me. I like you. We've kissed!"
"And you used a relationship you said you weren't ready for to start a fight."
Guy can't find a response to that. "I'm sorry," he says again.
"Okay," Kyle replies. He scuffs his sneaker against the floor and takes a deep breath. "Wanna walk home together?" he asks.
"Aren't you pissed?"
Kyle shrugs. "A little. But you apologized. And I figure you'll be useful if Tommy's waiting at the edge of campus."
"He's at practice," Guy says.
"Well, you still apologized." Kyle leads the way up the stairs and then leads the way out of the gym. "It was a dick move," he says when they get off campus, "but I kinda get it."
"You do?"
"Sometimes you just want to get over with it," Kyle says. "Sometimes it's just easier to get it over with."
"Yeah."
"That's why I came out when I did, you know? I could have waited until after high school, or done it over a summer break so the whole school wouldn't find out all at once, but I just wanted to be out."
"I don’t like waiting for a fight to start," Guy says. "It was always the worst part, waiting for my dad to stop yelling and start throwing things or shoving us around. At least when he was hitting me, I knew it couldn't get worse."
They walk in silence for six blocks, and then Kyle reaches out and takes Guy's hand. He laces their fingers together and steps half a step closer. "You really want to be my boyfriend?"
"I think so." Guy tightens his grip on Kyle's hand when Kyle looks like he'll pull away. "I…I don't really know how to do this, okay? I've never dated anyone. People always seem to want to hang out at each other's houses. I couldn't really bring anyone home, so I just didn't."
"And you couldn't tell your dad," Kyle adds.
"That too." Guy sees a man and woman coming in the other direction staring at his and Kyle's hands. Guy opens his mouth to say something cutting but stops when the man and woman look at each other and smile. "Huh."
"The whole world isn't out to get you," Kyle says, and he sounds like he's teasing. "I mean, sure, there's Tommy, but he's an idiot."
Guy laughs at that. "Coach said the same thing today," he tells him. "He wouldn't let me go to practice today because he has to tell Tommy to leave me alone."
"Fucking useless," Kyle mutters, and then he's laughing too.
They walk the rest of the way to Kyle's building in silence, stopping at the bottom of the stoop and looking at one another for a minute. "I can meet you here tomorrow," Guy offers. "We could walk together."
Kyle looks down, but Guy sees the way his cheeks move. He's smiling. "Okay," he says. He moves to pull away his hand. "You don't have to, you know."
"Walk with you?"
"Yeah," Kyle says. "That." But Guy can tell it's not what he's talking about.
"I might suck at it," Guy tells him. "But I think we could get through a couple of dates before you realize I'm kind of fucked up."
Kyle looks at Guy's face, not meeting his eyes but looking at his bruises. "Yeah, I figured that already."
Guy shrugs. "There you go, then. That's what I've got."
Kyle's eyebrows furrow. "Got?"
"My dad's an abusive asshole; I think my mom's still kind of a wreck. I'm being forced to talk about shit I'd rather forget about with a shrink, and I've got to deal with people at school saying shit about me whether it's true or not."
"I know that feeling."
"Yeah." Guy breathes in, loosens his grip on Kyle's hand. "So, that's it. I'm fucked up, and you seem like a cool guy, and I'm gay and kinda-out now, and I want to date you. I want you to be my boyfriend."
Kyle flushes as Guy finishes. "You have to tell your mom and Mace," he says. "We don't have to be all…boyfriend-ish…at school, but I don't want to have to pretend if I'm hanging out with you at your place, okay?"
Guy waits for the fear of telling his mom and Mace to overtake him. It doesn't come. "Okay," he says. "I will. Tonight."
"It can wait—"
"Tonight," Guy repeats. "I'm trying…" He doesn't know how to explain, how he feels like he owes his mother as much honesty as he can find to give her, a way of thanking her for trying so damned hard to watch out for him over the years. "I wanna be honest with my mom," he says.
"If she freaks at it, have her call my mom. She's got all sorts of pamphlets and books and stuff."
"She already knows I’m gay."
"Yeah, but now you're gonna be really gay, you know? You'll have a boyfriend." Kyle shrugs at Guy's look. "I know it sounds lame, but my mom freaked out a little, and she was totally cool when I came out."
And not putting her life back together after a shitty marriage, Guy thinks. "I'll tell her," he promises. He lets go of Kyle's hand completely. "Meet you here tomorrow?"
"Yeah." Kyle glances up and down the street, leans forward and kisses Guy on the mouth. "See you later."
"Bye," Guy says, and he watches Kyle climb the stoop and go inside his building. He walks home almost entirely lost in his thoughts. When he opens the door to the apartment, his mother is already there, sitting on the couch and reading a book.
"Hi, sweetie. How'd it go?"
"I'm dating Kyle," Guy says, wanting it out before anything else. "And I got into a fight with Tommy because he's an asshole, and I'm really tired."
His mother blinks and marks her place in her book. "I thought you and Kyle were just friends."
"We were," Guy replies. "And now we're dating." Saying it again, while she watches him with an unreadable expression, he feels fear start to spark in him. "He said you could talk to his mom if you need to," he adds. "I mean, if you…" He doesn't want to ask her if she's freaking out. Doesn't want to ask if this suddenly changes everything all over again. "I like him," he says quietly.
His mother smiles and stands up, walks over and pulls him into a hug. "He's a very nice young man," she says. "I think it's a bit fast, but you've always been very determined to go forward when you make up your mind about something."
"I'll tell Mace at dinner," Guy says, and he presses his face to his mother's shoulder, tears welling in his eyes.
"Mace likes Kyle, too," his mother says. She pets the back of Guy's head softly. "Honey?"
Guy can't answer, he's crying, eyes screwed shut to pretend that he isn't. He tries to breathe in, and his whole body just shakes instead. He hugs his mom tighter, feels her hug him back just as hard. "Life sucked," he gets out, and it's stuttery and broken, but he feels his mother shift to kiss the side of his head.
"I know, baby," and he can't remember the last time she called him that. His father had forbade it when he was in elementary school. Said it made him a pussy. "It's gonna be better now."
It is, Guy thinks. It already is, but he's crying too hard to saying anything else, letting his mother hug him like she hasn't done since he was in junior high.
"I'm glad about Kyle," his mother says, and her voice is wavering. "And I'm glad you're here, and that you and Mace are getting along, and I'm glad you can still hug me."
How could I stop, Guy thinks. "You're my mom," he gets out. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she says, and he feels tears in his hair.
Maybe he's not so fucked up, Guy thinks. When Mace comes home, sees their stained faces and suddenly crumples onto the couch, Guy decides he's not fucked up at all.
"I wish—" Mace starts, and Guy shoves at his shoulder.
"Shut up," he says, and he leans against Mace's side. We did what we could, he thinks. "You look stupid when you cry."
Mace doesn't respond, just throws an arm around his shoulder, reels Guy in close. "Least I can breathe through my mouth."
"I'm dating Kyle," Guy tells him. "And I punched out Tommy for being a dick."
"Good," Mace says. "For both of them."
Their mother shakes her head at them and stands up. "Let's all wash our faces and have dinner," she says. "Let's order out. We're celebrating."
"What are we celebrating?" Mace asks, wiping his face with a swipe of his sleeve.
"Everything," she replies. "Being a family."
Not being broken, Guy thinks. "The fact that I have a boyfriend and you're still single and sad," he says to Mace.
"Big achievement," Mace replies, standing up and pulling Guy along with him. "Kyle's just as lame as you."
"You'll be good together," his mother says.
"Yeah," Guy agrees. "Probably."
And that's the curtain, folks. Thank you, everyone, who's been so kind with feedback and enjoyed the story so much. I hope the ending suits.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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on 2010-09-01 07:16 am (UTC)Oh my god, they're so cute and I kinda hope you play in this 'verse more even thought the fic is done.
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on 2010-09-09 12:45 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-01 11:31 am (UTC)I need to re-read this all again. *loves this fic so much*
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on 2010-09-01 01:36 pm (UTC)*blushes*
See icon!
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on 2010-09-01 05:23 pm (UTC)The split up sentences is just Kyle being very awkward, so there are pauses so he can look away and try not to blush.
I'm so happy you liked it! The actual universe is pretty much pure awesome, and I love it to bits (obviously).
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on 2010-09-09 12:46 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-01 11:58 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-09 12:47 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-01 01:10 pm (UTC)Thank you for writing it.
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on 2010-09-09 12:47 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-01 01:37 pm (UTC)I got a little confused here. Is this supposed to be split up into three? (Kyle, then Guy, then Kyle again?) Or was it just written this way?
"Okay," Guy says. He doesn't step away and neither does Kyle. "I'm at the end of the hall," Guy tells him, jerking his head in the direction they were already travelling."
Extra quotation mark at the end.
Other than those two things, I adore this fic, and even though I'm not entirely familiar with the original universe other than a cursory, "Look! They have snazzy costumes and glowy rings!", I could probably get into it. :D
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on 2010-09-09 12:50 am (UTC)First, good catches! I swear there's always some little thing. And that bit with Kyle is meant to be him talking all the way through. The pauses are his awkward teenager-ness, which came out awkward, apparently. :)
I'm so happy you enjoyed it. And they do have snazzy costumes and glowy rings! They're fun as hell in their actual universe as well. Guy MOONS Batman. It is made of win.
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on 2010-09-09 01:27 am (UTC)And I thought you had replied to this comment as well? I might be confusing it with another fic or something. Hrm.
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on 2010-09-01 06:34 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-09 12:51 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-01 07:03 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-09 12:52 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-02 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-09 12:52 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-02 04:28 pm (UTC)Thank you so much for a great read.
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on 2010-09-09 12:54 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-04 12:28 am (UTC)The opening totally made me want to hug Guy's mom. Every time we get a glimpse of her coping mechanisms...yeah.
And Kyle waited for Guy! <3 <3 <3
"Go to lunch, Mr. Gardner," Mr. Mogo says. "I'm not in the mood to socialize."
LOLOLOLOLOL.
The fight in the cafeteria kind of made my stomach clench, it was so well done. I wanted to cheer Kyle on, hitting a guy with a tray. \o/ I've been the person someone was trying to humiliate like that, though I defeated them with superior knowledge rather than a fight. *g*
"But if you're gonna make declarations, Poozer, you should make them when you're not trying to get punched in the face."
<3s for Kilowog.
Guy's relationship with "Mr. Jordan" was so perfect. It's so very like Hal to be totally fair, and making sure there's no shit going on in his domain, while still managing to be a total dick about it. LOL.
Vath looks at Isamot. "Told you you weren't scary."
"Blow me," Isamot replies, and Vath hops over the bench to try and tackle him.
Many <3s for these two as well! :-D
But as much as I loved the whole chapter, Guy and Kyle's conversation at the end blew me away with how well it was done. Emotional complexity! I confess to feeling a bit intimidated; I'm not sure I could do that in a fic.
"I…I don't really know how to do this, okay? I've never dated anyone. People always seem to want to hang out at each other's houses. I couldn't really bring anyone home, so I just didn't."
*wibbles* And now I totally want to see them being all cute and boyfriend-like together.
This was awesome. Just awesome. Thank you so much for hanging in there when the story mushroomed on you, and sharing the awesome with the rest of us!
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on 2010-09-09 01:12 am (UTC)Guy's mom is probably my favorite character I've ever played with from the ground up. I just loved her to bits, and I'm so happy you liked her, too.
The trick to emotional complexity, I think, is to remember that certain conversations simply aren't had in a quick back and forth. Pauses are EVERYTHING. Also, I had a good base with Guy and Kyle's characters from the actual DC-verse. They started out well-drawn, I just aged them down a little and made them awkward.
I'm so happy you enjoyed everything!
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on 2010-09-04 04:09 pm (UTC)Mr. Mogo not socializing cracked me up, as did Kyle freaking out about the Epic Lunch Tray Smackdown. Guy and Kyle's awkwardness together is too, too sweet ♥
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on 2010-09-09 01:32 am (UTC)The Mr. Mogo bit was a last-minute addition, courtesy of screwing up Guy's class schedule, but man, I'm so glad I goofed. :)
I'm so happy you enjoyed it!
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on 2010-09-04 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-09 01:33 am (UTC)no subject
on 2010-09-23 06:19 am (UTC)But it's wonderful, and so damn cute. I think this will probably be one of those comfort fics that I read over and over again, because even though it doesn't deal with the happiest of situations the characters are human and real and trying to make their lives better. And it's awesome.
Also I fell like I should say that I LOVE MACE. Just. <3333
Thank you for writing this, it is the best sort of HSAU anyone could ask for.
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on 2010-09-26 05:15 am (UTC)I'm so happy to hear it's a comfort fic. It's so lovely to know it's enjoyed so much.
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on 2010-10-07 03:57 pm (UTC)And your style is just so smooth. It was a joy to read.
Thank you so much for writing this, and for sharing it with everyone.
Also, I'm sorry for my lack appropriate of Guy/Kyle icons. I now feel the desperate need to make one.
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on 2010-10-09 07:30 am (UTC)