Author's Note: Warning! This fic contains bad language, homophobic slurs, bullying/harassment, and homosexual relationships. Please take this warning into account before you read.
"Fag," a voice snarls from Tristan's left. A cackle leaks out of the shadows on his right. A hand grabs his shoulder from behind. He's pushed into the wall of an old building, and before he even knows what's going on, he's surrounded. They're all boys from his school.
"Heard you were gay, Tristan," the oldest one, a boy in Tristan's class says. He's got a smile on his face that makes Tristan's blood freeze.
"Back off," Tristan says, pushing the other boy's hands away. The rumour started circulating Monday, and the damage has already started to reach critical levels. Tuesday graffiti was spray painted onto his locker, Wednesday he was locked out of the gym change room in his underclothes. Now, Thursday afternoon, he's being threatened with violence. Tristan can feel sweat beading on the back of his neck. If it were just one or two guys, he wouldn't have a problem. Tristan prides himself on being strong and capable. He's taken more than one martial art class and he's been to a few self defense classes, too. But with three – actually, four, there's another boy approaching from down the alley at a run – guys against just him, he's got no chance of escaping unscathed.
But it's not fear that makes his cheeks burn and his palms start to sweat. It's the accusation. The rumour started when Tristan was spotted with another boy Sunday night in a compromising situation. If Tristan were good at lying, if he could bluff his way through these fights and arguments, his classmates would probably leave him alone. But since the first time someone called him out in the hall, laid his secret bare in front of a huge crowd of his peers, they've all know it's not just a rumour, it's true.
"Are you gonna answer me, Twinkletoes?" His assailant is grinning wider than ever. Tristan braces himself for a hit as the two flunkies hold his arms down, and the bully draws back his arm.
"Get offa him, ya creeps!" yells a familiar voice. Joey Wheeler jumps on the biggest bully's back, making him cry out in surprise and terror. Tristan seizes the moment of confusion to break the hold of the other two on his arms, and sends one sprawling with a fast punch to the jaw. The other one regains his wits in time to dodge Tristan's kick to the stomach, but he gets laid flat when Joey, who had already dispatched his first target, punches him square in the nose. Wheeler grabs Tristan's arm hurriedly and drags him off to a safer place; the bullies are already picking themselves up off the ground.
"That's right, run, you little queers!" yells the one in charge. He decides not to chase them, instead bringing a hand up to cradle his bruised cheek.
Panting, Tristan and Joey finally stop running when they get to a main street. No one would dare try to fight them in such a public area. Joey puts a concerned hand on Tristan's shoulder.
"Did they hurt you?" He asks, his eyes carefully looking his best friend over. Tristan shakes his head.
"You arrived just on time," he replies, giving a weak smile. His hands are still shaking. For a moment, Joey stares at him with so much worry in his eyes that Tristan thinks he's about to burst into tears, or throw his arms around him, or something dramatic like that. Instead, Joey straightens up and puts his hands in his pockets.
"I think from now on you and me should walk to and from school together," he says. "I can meet you at your house in the morning and take a detour on the way back to my place."
Tristan shakes his head. "Joey, that's crazy. Are houses are like two miles apart."
He can tell by the stubborn look on Joey's face that it doesn't matter. Part of Tristan feels lit up like a Christmas tree. He was so worried Joey would hear the rumours and turn on him, too. Now he feels bad for ever doubting his best friend. But the rest of him feels really bad for causing the inconvenience in the first place. "Joey, that's too much to ask. I can ask my dad to drive me to school before work, and just stop taking short cuts through the alleys. You're already getting a bad rep just for hanging out with me." He turns his down to the ground, remembering the bully calling him and Joey both "queers."
Joey tilts Tristan's chin up, forcing him to look at him. For a moment, Tristan's whole brain goes out the window and he forgets to breathe, because his body is suddenly convinced Joey's about to kiss him.
Joey doesn't kiss him. "Tris, you're my best friend. I would never stop hanging out with you, especially just because of some stupid kids. I'm here for ya. You don't need to be ashamed or feel bad when you're with me."
Tristan doesn't know how to argue with that, and his cheeks are red from his assumption. He shrugs and stands up. "So, you're gonna walk me home?" He asks meekly, trying to change the subject. Joey laughs.
"Yeah, let's head to your place. And if it makes you feel better, you can invite me in and make me an afterschool snack for pay as your brand new bodyguard!"
The next day, Joey heads out an hour earlier than he usually does and walks the opposite direction from the school to get to Tristan's house. After a few hours of videogames, he'd managed to convince Tristan that walking to school and back together wouldn't be a chore for Joey. However, as he leaves his apartment Joey's lips are drawn in a tight, angry line. He loves Tristan (as a buddy, it seems important to say, now that he knows Tristan's…. into guys) and it tears him apart to see him the victim of so much hatred. It's disgusting. The teachers at the school have done very little that's useful. Joey knows from a lot of experience protecting smaller kids from bullies that the school policy against these kind of things is ineffective at best, detrimental at worst. But he never thought he would be protecting Tristan. Really, it's always been Tristan protecting Joey in their relationship. Joey's rash and impulsive and constantly takes on more than he can handle, whether it's five guys at once or duelist that's way out of his league. Tristan's always there to back him up when he needs it most.
Now, Tristan's the one that needs him. Joey promised Tristan last night before he went home, more sombre than he'd ever been before, that he wasn't going to let anyone hurt his best friend. He intends to keep that promise, or die trying. Maybe not die, maybe just get hospitalised for severe injuries. But the message is basically the same.
When Joey knocks on Tristan's door, no one answers. Smirking to himself, Joey knocks louder. He's probably still asleep, he thinks.
When Tristan finally comes to the door, after the third knock, he's not dressed for school. He's still wearing his pajamas. But Joey barely notices that, because he's staring at Tristan's red, puffy eyes. Joey hasn't seen Tristan cry in the whole course of the friendship.
"I was hoping if I didn't answer the door you would just go away," Tristan says hoarsely.
Joey shakes his head fiercely. "I would never. What's wrong Tris? What did they do you? I'm gonna make 'em pay!" His fists clench at his sides, ready to fight whoever hurt Tristan, but his best friend his shaking his head in resignation.
"It's – it's nothing they did in particular. My dad had a talk with me last night, and I couldn't help it. I told him everything. He –" the sentence is interrupted by a huge sniffle. "He wants me to transfer schools!" Fresh tears leak out of Tristan's eyes and he buries his face in his hands.
Joey's stomach sinks, but he doesn't let it show on his face. He puts his hands on Tristan's shoulders. "Hey, come on, man, it's not that bad. If you can get to a school where all the creeps'll leave you alone, that's a good thing! And we can still be friends, even though we're not at the same school!" He smiles for Tristan's sake, but Tristan is shaking his head slowly. He pulls his hands away from his face to talk.
"No, it's worse than that. He's sending me to a boarding school, Joey. I'm not even going to be in the same city as you!" He bursts into a fresh wave of tears.
Joey can't blame him. The back of his throat is beginning to burn and that can only mean that he's about to let loose a few sobs of his own. He swallows hard. "Aw, Tris, come on. We can keep in touch still. You and me and Yugi and Tea. We can still send e-mails and letters, and we can visit each other on break. It's gonna be alright." Joey squeezes Tristan's shoulder lightly, shaking him a bit. "Come on, Tristan, snap out of it! It's not the end of the world. We're gonna be alright."
After a few moments, Tristan took a deep breath and nodded. He puts his hand over Joey's on his shoulder, looks him in the eye, and nods determinedly. They're best friends, and they're going to get through this.
Tristan leaves surprisingly quickly. He attends school that day, to say goodbye to his teachers and friends. Then the day after that Tristan's dad invites Joey to come to the airport with them, and in a whirl of activity Tristan is swept away, onto a plane that's about to take off. Tristan's father lays a hand on Joey's shoulder, and Joey looks up to see tears on his face. Joey's been trying to hold his own in, but when he realises how difficult it is for Tristan's father to say goodbye, too, he loses his control.
"We have to do whatever it takes to keep him safe," Tristan's father says. Joey nods through a sob. "When I go to visit him in a month, you can come too, if your mother says it's alright." Joey nods again, mutely. They watch the plane fly away, and within an hour Joey's back in his own room, staring at the walls and trying to figure out how he's going to survive the rest of high school without his best friend.
It's November.
Joey's plane touches down in the city's he's going to be calling home from now on and the minute he steps off the plane he feels the chill of the early winter. He has a dozen things on his mind, from moving all his stuff into his apartment to starting his new job to what he's going to eat for dinner, but all he can think about his the fact that this is where Tristan lives, this is where Tristan moved to five years ago, Tristan is going to meet him at the airport.
Despite their best intentions, long distance relationships are difficult to maintain, even when they aren't romantic. They exchanged e-mails and letters with utmost devotion and determination for the first few months, and Tristan's dad brought Joey with him every time he went to visit his son. But then twice in a row when Tristan's dad went for a visit, Joey couldn't go with him because of exams, first, and a summer job the second time. Tristan came back for the summer, but he spent a lot of time with his dad and Joey's work kept him busy. The second summer Tristan stayed at school to compete with the soccer team, and communication become less frequent between the two friends as Tristan made more friends at his new school and Joey spent more and more time trying to help his mother pay the bills.
Some things never changed though; whenever Joey happened to mention Tristan, his name was always prefaced with "my best friend," and Joey continued to devote hours a week to simply wondering where Tristan was, what he was doing, he was with. And, more and more frequently, to Joey's private embarrassment, whether he had a boyfriend, and what it would mean if he did.
Joey himself never dated anyone throughout all of high school. He was reluctant to change and didn't have a lot of time or enthusiasm to devote to new relationships, so he had stuck with Tea, Bakura and Yugi.
As Joey zipped his jacket up, adjusted his scarf, and followed the signs to the baggage claim, anxiety and excitement built up inside of him. He had no idea what to expect; it had been more than two years since he had seen Tristan, and the only reason they were seeing each other now is that Joey's job transferred him to a city whose name he knew and had repeated to himself a thousand times. He hadn't even hesitated to call Tristan and tell him, which was a surprise to both of them, as they hadn't spoken for more than three months.
Luckily, Tristan had seemed just as enthusiastic about reuniting with his old best friend as Joey was.
Descending on the escalator into the atrium where baggage claims 20-45 were, Joey had to remind himself that looking for Tristan's trademark spiked hair was probably the wrong move. Instead he carefully searched one face, then the next until he reached the bottom of the escalator and was engulfed in a huge bear hug.
"Woah, hey!" Joey shouts, but he's grinning widely. Tristan lets go of him and holds him at arm's length, and Joey is shocked at the changes in his best friend's face. He was right not to look for the huge hair spike, because Tristan's switched to a much less dramatic amount of gel to push his fringe back. His jaw is square and strong, dusted with dark stubble. His large brown eyes are framed by long, dark lashes and he looks so much older than Joey remembers him that it almost breaks his heart. Joey himself has taken to keeping his floppy blond hair shorter, and also bears the signs of age, but he's seen the changes taking place over time. The two old friends take a long moment to look each other over, then Tristan takes Joey happily by the hand and drags him toward the baggage carousel. Joey is surprised; nobody's held his hand… since Tristan left, he supposes. They were always tactile friends, and back when they were together all the time it had seemed insignificant when they touched each other. It seems that Tristan hasn't changed, but Joey has.
He spots his luggage quickly, two huge matching suitcases with an outlandish Hawaiian pattern to make them easily recognizable. They contain everything he owns. Tristan is still bigger than him, and takes both bags without a word, using the strap on one to throw it over his shoulder and rolling the other one behind him on its wheels. Joey fell into step with him as easily as if the past years had never come between them as Tristan animatedly described all the great things the city had to offer that they could do together. He led Joey to his car, talking more than Joey had ever heard him before. Tristan had always been the strong, silent type back at the old school, and Joey wasn't sure if the change in his friend was because of his excitement at their reunion or if it was a permanent thing. Tristan loaded Joey's two bags into the trunk of his car, brushing off Joey's offers of assistance and continuing to spew a one-sided conversation until he sat down in the front seat and Joey sat beside him in the passenger's seat.
"So!" He shouted, clapping his hands together happily. "Where are we going?" Joey was so surprised by the question that he started to laugh.
"Man, Tristan, you haven't let me get a word in! You don't even know where we're going!" Tristan ducked his head sheepishly in reply, blushing, to Joey's fascination. Tristan had always been easily embarrassed, but it had been years since he'd seen that look on his face. Fond remembrance made Joey's grin soften.
"I'm just really excited to see you," Tristan says softly. He raises his head to look at Joey, and they stare at each other for a moment. Then Joey snaps out of it and rubs the back of his head awkwardly.
"Well, my apartment's on Conch Road, but I should probably get some groceries before I go there, don't you think?" Tristan nods.
"Alright, I know that area pretty well. I'll show you where the nearest grocery store is! Hey, are you gonna have a car up here?"
Joey turns to the window so Tristan can't see his blush. "Nah, I can't afford one right now. It'll be the bus for me."
"Hey, I have a car! If you ever need a ride somewhere, just let me know!"
"Aw, it's okay Tristan, I don't want to inconvenience you. I can get by on my own."
For a moment Tristan is silent. Then he glances away from the road to look at Joey. "That's funny, that reminds me of a conversation we had a long time ago. But I was the one who didn't want to be an inconvenience, back then." He looked back at the road, and Joey twisted his lips, not sure how to respond. "We're still best friends, right Joey?"
"Yeah, of course. Forever!"
"So you could never be an inconvenience to me. Best friends do things for each other. And we have a lot of stuff to do for each other to make up for all the time we were apart!" Tristan glances at Joey again, meeting his eyes. They grin at each other.
It turns out that Joey and Tristan aren't any better at shopping for themselves than they used to be, and leave the store with all the fixings for two weeks' worth of sandwiches, some potatoes, and a whole cart full of junk food. They're snacking on Fruit Gushers as they walk to Tristan's car, laughing and pushing each other playfully. They climb into the car and drive to Joey's brand new apartment. It came furnished, so all he needs are the essentials: TV, at least one gaming console, and to fill the cupboard with enough food to feed an army. The TV and console were being mailed by his mother later on, but the cupboards could be stocked right away. Tristan wanders around the rooms making appropriately appreciative noises as he looks the place over. Joey didn't really care what the place was like; he was just endlessly glad that his work was paying for it. Tristan had a house, so he was only being kind by admiring Joey's cramped living space.
They sit on the couch for a few minutes, each with a Fruit by the Foot wrapped around their index fingers after a moment of reminiscing about afterschool snacks, before Joey let out a sigh of boredom. "Life sucks without a TV," he says, sprawling out across the back of the couch. Tristan laughs, poking him in the ribs.
"You have a short attention span. I was basking in the serene peace the enveloped me the minute I was re-united with my best friend. All was right with the world," he says dramatically, "but now the moment's gone. You ruined it. Way to go, Wheeler."
Joey swats his hand away. "Yeesh, what a sap. Are you gonna try and bask in my awesomeness everytime we're together now? Should I get used to being bored by you?" He teases, poking Tristan back. His best friend giggles and retaliates with exuberance, grabbing Joey by the sides where he knew Joey was most ticklish. With a yelp Joey rolls away onto the floor, hitting the ground hard and dragging Tristan with him.
"You could never beat me at wrestling," Tristan says smugly, running his fingers down Joey's ribcage. Joey squirms and laughs breathlessly, trying to escape. "I know all your weakness," Tristan continues.
Joey takes Tristan by surprise by shoving his hands down the back of his shirt, touching Tristan's bare skin with his icy cold fingers. Tristan's hands instinctively move to slap away Joey's hands. Joey seizes the opportunity to flip them over, so he's hovering over Tristan. He's gotten stronger over their years apart, and now Joey is much more equally matched to his best friend. He pins Tristan's arms at his sides, leaning on them slightly to keep him down. Their noses are inches apart, and they're both red-faced and gasping for air, but grinning.
Joey shifts back slightly, and Tristan gasps. Joey glances at his face worriedly, and finds Tristan's eyes are shut tightly, his cheeks bright red. From this close, Joey can count the smattering of freckles across Tristan's tanned face. From this close, he can feel Tristan's erection poking into his thigh.
"Oh," Joey says. He isn't entirely sure how to respond. He can feel blood rushing to his face, a red flush colouring his neck, then his face. "Oh," he repeats, desperately trying to get a handle on things. "Does this… does this happen to you a lot?" Joey asks. He doesn't want to make Tristan uncomfortable, but he's at a complete loss.
Tristan shakes his head from side to side, not opening his eyes.
"Oh," Joey says again. He realises he's still holding Tristan down, but he isn't sure… He doesn't know how he feels. And part of him doesn't want to just let Tristan get up and walk away. He doesn't want to pretend that this never happened. It was the part of him that had always wondered who Tristan was dating, what they were doing. How far they'd gone. The faintly obsessed part of him that had looked at Tristan's first shirtless picture on Facebook and been drawn to the tanned skin of his chest, the muscles in his arms. The part of him that loved Tristan's freckles, had loved them since they had first met, both of them eleven and so unaware of where they would end up.
He hesitantly unpins one of Tristan's arms, and it immediately moves to rest against his chest, pushing faintly. Joey's hand simultaneously touches Tristan's warm cheek with his fingers, gently, as if he's trying not to frighten him. Tristan's eyes snap open, and there is a moment of stalemate.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Joey whispers, terrified.
Once again, Tristan shakes his head.
After another moment of hesitation Joey speaks again. "So, can I kiss you?"
Tristan looks surprised, but he smiles weakly. "Yeah," he says, but he doesn't wait for Joey to take the initiative. He pulls Joey's head down to him, and kisses his best friend speechless.