Yeah, I know what your thinking, there's no death or betrayal or horror in this story- it's all fluffy and lovely...

But give me a break, I wanted to write something different for a change... But don't worry, i've got another Christmas/new year thing that I'm going to post in a few days that's a bit more like my normal stuff...

I don't own anything, except the storyline which is completely fictional.

Enjoy!

I'd always hated school dances. I'd always bloody detested them.

I only ever went to a dance once, when I was ever so young and naïve to the torturous activities that would take place between the walls of a gym hall, overly festooned with economical "twinkling" fairy lights and jolly paper banners adorning the words "Merry Christmas". It was all so nauseating.

But, if I have to be perfectly honest, it was never the dances themselves that instigated the problems for me. No, in fact, it was the period of time that ran up to the dance- those last few weeks of jovial, time-honoured festivities in which were the support act for the Christmas break- that caused my stomach to flip with sheer nerves at even a simple mention. Why? We had to rehearse the dances in class.

They wanted every step to be seamless- an achievement that was a pretty outrageous prospect for a wild, unruly year like my own. In order to accomplish this goal, the school's Gym department decided that "all Physical Education lessons should be replaced with Christmas Dancing lessons prior to the dance", a decision that put me through even more agony than a regular day Gym class would. Caused by these turns of events, the last few weeks of school I would spend in an eternal miserable state.

Personally, I didn't mind dancing with the girls. It didn't bother me in the slightest.

It was the girls that didn't want to dance with me.

I didn't blame them though. I was the weird guy in the class that had strings of long, sweaty dusk-toned hair falling from his head; that kid that no one knew the name of, but was just always there, silently blending into the background, like chalk slowly smudging away.

I was always the last one picked. I was either left with the "lesbian chick", who I have to add, was completely straight and a very nice girl, or was forced to sit at the side and watch my class mates giggle together with their friends at just how swell life was.

It was only moments like this that I realised just how alone I was. I was so alone that I would never even get a partner to dance with.

Today was no exception. As the crowd of my gym class packed their way in to the hall, buzzing around as they found an opposite sexed friend to partake in the activity with, I was left at the side, not even an eyelid batted in my direction. It was embarrassing more than anything else.

After several minutes of the commotion, it was obvious that there were no girls left, and that once again, I would be abandoned on a bench, left to control the tape player, nothing but humility to hide my shame. Just like every other year before.

"You, you don't have a partner, right? You and Frank can go together, but one of you is going to have to be a girl…"

My head snaps up as I am woken from my mortification induced coma by our Gym teacher, her arms flailing and head bobbing from side to side as she tried to organise all of the couples in to some form of a circle. Frank and I were left standing at the side like lost puppy dogs.

"Awww, Frank won't mind pairing up with a guy, he's a total faggot anyway."

There had always been rumour saying that Frank was gay- ever since I had known of the boy. As you would expect, he wasn't the most popular of kids due to this, and liked to stay on the side-lines, much like myself. I often wondered why after all of these years, we had never bonded, or really even talked, both of us more or less being the outcasts of our year.

However, this didn't stop me from having a uncanny fascination with the boy. I'd always liked to watch him- the way his smile could light up a room, or even burn down a house, the way he talked with his hands, like it was some weird, ancient coding, the way his hair and clothes progressed through time, maturing and moulding to his personality. There was just something so captivating about him. I just couldn't quite put my finger on it. I often pondered over the thought that it could perhaps be a crush, but always ended up writing it off, as I was straight, as far as I was aware.

"I'm shorter, so I'll be the girl if you want…"

Although muffled, his voice stirred me from yet another trance, as he clasped my arm and tugged me to join the circle, placing his hand on my shoulder, copying the other girls in the class. My eyes wandering throughout the mass of teenagers around me, I ignored the sniggers and remarks as I placed my hand on Frank's lower back, grasping his other hand in the remaining one.

In a disorientated, chaotic scramble of misplaced limbs and dazed expressions, the tape player was powered into a monotonous drone of violins and cellos, Frank and myself struggling to copy the rest of the ramble of school kids, them their selves not having the slightest clue to what they were supposed to be achieving as an end result to the dance. Overall, the scene painted was one of confusion and pandemonium.

It was a little awkward at first, between Frank and I, and we contented ourselves with the replication of the twirls and steps the others around us were performing, giggling nervously every few minutes as we tripped over each other's feet, this being partly due to me being so distracted by the boy. I'd never been in such close contact with him, and seeing his dainty features up close, observing his frosted glass skin, touching him for the first time, there was just something different about it. There was something that clicked. There was some feeling at the pit of my stomach brewing, telling me that this was how things were supposed to be, and that this was right.

After completing several of "social dances", any obstinacy held between the two of us was beginning to melt away, like the last of the punitive winter snow making way for the fresh, new spring. We began to laugh more, joke more, and just overall feel more comfortable around each other. By the time we were halfway through the period, we felt like old friends, finally meeting after not talking for years and the once torturous qualities of the session began to feel more like rumours passed on by word of mouth than past experiences.

"So, what everyone says, I'm just curious… Is it true?"

I was expecting the question to cool the air to frozen chill, perhaps even ice it over with a thin layer of tension, but the reaction I received from Frank was warmer, unexpected. He simply thought about it for a second, and then nodded. It was like he felt completely comfortable around me. That in itself made me blush.

"Why do you ask?"

That made me think. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't sure why I had asked. Maybe there was a little, hopelessly desperate, screaming teenaged boy trapped deep in the confinements of my rib cage that hoped that he would confirm my suspicions, because that hopelessly desperate, screaming teenaged boy felt that weird tingly, butterfly sensation any time Frank's eyes caught his.

I wasn't sure.

I was questioning a lot of stuff right now.

"I don't know, I was just kind of wondering…"

"Oh, that's okay…"

There was something of disappointment in his voice- not obvious, just a subtle undertone that twisted its way through his words like cigarette smoke through the air, tape worm lines of rotting, cancerous regret. Did he…?

No. He couldn't.

It just wasn't right.

But even so, even if Frank didn't like me…

Why did I want him to?

"Umm… Are you okay Gerard?"

Snap. Again his words break me free from the reins of my thoughts and pull me back into reality. In my head, I had been away for a matter of moments, however, in real life I had been in a diluted stated of consciousness for several minutes, and from the mien on Frank's face, I could tell he was concerned.

"Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking…"

We twist through the frame of couples, and I feel like I'm weaving through the seams of history. I would feel at home in a grand hall, waltzing to the Edwardian tunes of an orchestra, masquerade mask in place.

"What were you thinking about?"

He pulls me closer as he says the words, leaning up slightly so he's almost whispering into my ear, his voice hushed, careful snowflake murmurs.

I don't reply immediately. Mentally, I debate lying, saying that I was just pondering over what to eat for lunch or the likes, but I knew he wouldn't buy it.

"I'm going to be honest, I was thinking about you…"

Frank looks a little taken aback at first, his jaw hanging slightly open, a glimmer of panic in his eyes, but before he can proceed in speaking, the school bell rings, signalling the end of the period. The troop of teenagers begins to charge towards the tiny set of double doors exiting the hall, all forcing themselves through the passage simultaneously. Frank and I don't bother moving, and after a couple of minutes, we are left in the hall on our own. All on our own.

"You were thinking about me?" he continues, once he's sure everyone, including the teacher which also left in a hurry, is out of earshot.

"Yeah…"

"Well, I guess that's good. I was thinking about you."

It's my turn to be taken aback now, and all I can do is feel my mouth go dry, my hands sweat and all my senses begin to numb as everything around me begins to feel like I am watching it from a TV screen.

Oh, what a dramatic soap this is!

I wonder what's going to happen next.

Maybe they're will be a turn of events? Or maybe they'll get together?

Maybe they'll kiss!

And we did kiss. Before I have even associated the situation with my own life, I'm leaning down and slowly placing my lips on Frank's, wrapping my arms around his waist as he brings a hand up to take a fistful of my hair, pulling me down, deeper into the kiss. Our mouths part slightly as tongues tickle lips and acquitted angel touches are placed on each other's cheeks. I don't think either of us knew exactly what was happening. I'm not even sure if we wanted to know at that exact moment.

We break away, and all I can do is gaze down upon him. I don't know him, but I think I love him more than I've loved anyone else before.

"So, I'll see you around, Gerard"

I smile.

"You actually know my name…"

Frank shrugs. "Yeah, I guess I do…"

Without another touch, another word uttered, he turns and makes his way for the exit, only pausing to look back as he pushes open the heavy fire doors.

"So, d'you want to go to the Christmas dance with me?"

I nod.

"Yeah."