After two years you'd think he's gotten over it. Sometimes he would think he had, and sometimes it would feel like he had. But every year, when Christmas rolled around, he would realize he hadn't. And always would it make him feel pathetic.
At 11:00 PM, Michael and Billy were sat on the roof. Their roof. The snow was piled on top the roof and caved in just enough to make the roof seem round instead of flat and the long, sharp icicles clinging on to the edge of the building almost looked like it belonged in a children's fantasy book. Michael had cleared out a small section in snow, just big enough for the both of them to sit on. The air was chilly, like how air got around Christmas. Neither of them knew or quite frankly, bothered asking why they were sat outside in such cold weather.
They just they did.
Like they do.
Amongst them was a sort of comforting silence that only the two of them could share. Enjoying each other's presence and looking over the view of the cloudy night sky. A full moon was out that night but it was hidden among the dark clouds. Michael thought it was like the moon was hiding it was glimmer behind the dullness of everything around it.
Billy had noticed how peaceful his village was compared to London. He loved London. It always felt like he had something to do, or somewhere to be. Everything was in it's place and that was nice. But he never realized how much he missed his peaceful and quiet town of Everington. Something his new fourteen-year old self came to appreciate.
Billy then broke the silence.
With a question.
"Have you been practicing?"
"Practicing what?"
"Ballet."
Michael was surprised. He didn't know it was a thing Billy wanted him to practice.
But he did.
Oh, of course he did.
Memories of all the times he would try practicing after billy left came flooding back into his mind.
All the times he would sneak into the gym and pretend that Billy was there with him. Teaching him. Dancing with him.
All the times he would review what Billy Taught him in his head, only to end up on the ground in a loud, painful thud.
And that one time when he realized that it was meaningless without the company of his best mate. His dancer boy.
"No." Michael answered.
That was a lie.
"Well, do you remember anything at all?"
"No."
That was also a lie. He remembered everything. How could he not?
Billy smirked.
He still had that goofy, lopsided smile that Michael thought made Billy's whole face light up.
And it never failed to make His heart skip a beat.
Billy grabbed both of Michael's hands.
"C'mon!" He said, before letting go of his right hand and pulling him by the left. Off the roof and toward the road.
Michael's heart fluttered at the feeling of Billy's hand in his.
He knew where Billy was taking him.
Not letting go of Michael's hand, Billy lead him on a path. An all too familiar path.
Through the left road, under the bridge, and left at the two tall willow trees.
When they arrived, they took a minute to just stand there, looking at the old white and blue building. It was exactly how Billy left it. The walls, run down and the red paint slowly peeling off the door. It wasn't fancy like the gyms he had had at the school but it was definitely his favourite because, it was home. And, as Mrs. Wilkinson said, It's where his life had began.
"Ya know, they're go'n to take down this gym and build a new one." Michael spoke, eyes still fixed on the gym.
"Aye, I heard it from me dad."
Michael could hear the sadness in his voice.
"You alright?" Michael asked sounding more concerned than he had intended.
"Yeh. It's just...I'll miss this place."
Billy squeezed Michael's hand and his heart leapt again.
"yeh." Michael agreed.
"My life began inside these walls, ya know'."
"you sound like a right old woman." Michael joked.
"Bugger off!" Billy retorted.
They both laugh, realizing that It had been ages since they last laughed together. Like ages since they last had the chance to.
"C'mon then!"
Billy said, pulling Michael through the old, squeaky red door.
"Best use most of the time the place still got left."
The gym was dark. They tiniest bit of light soaked in through the windows but it wasn't enough to light the place. They could hear the howling of the chimney when the cold winter wind blew over it, sounding like when someone would blow into a beer bottle.
To Michael the gym always felt scary at night. Not that he was afraid of ghost or monsters, although he would be lying if the thought of them never escaped his mind. No, it was because when it was dark, he felt alone.
And he hated being alone.
Darkness was his loneliness and loneliness was his darkness.
But those nights, when he and Billy would escape to the gym, were the only nights he had never felt scared. Always, safe. Protected.
Billy always made him feel safe and protected.
Stupid, huh?
The gym was dirtier than when Billy had last been there. Tools and equipment were lined up against the wall probably in preparation for the rebuilding. The ground was littered in sawdust and wood. However despite of all the mess, the ballet and boxing equipment still remained, which made Billy happy.
"God, it's even more cold in here than outside."
Billy shivered putting his cold hands into the each of his opposite sleeves like a Chinese emperor.
Michael loved it when he did that.
"You Want me to warm your hands again don't you, dancer boy?"
"Only if you dance with me afterwards."
"Oi! you coming or not?" Billy called from the boxing ring.
"Aye!" Michael answered.
"Right, lets start at the beginning." Billy said.
"Aye." Michael croaked.
"Did your voice just crack?"
"No!"
"Plei. First"
Billy's hand was touching his.
"Second"
Billy slid his hands down his arms.
"Third"
He could feel Billy getting closer.
"Fourth"
He watched as Billy leaned in towards his cheek.
"Fith"
Billy Kissed him.
"Fin"
Everything went silent.
Thoughts ran through each of their minds but neither of them knew what to say or dared risk speaking in fear how the other might respond.
Finally Michael spoke.
"Billy. Please... don't do that again." Michael whispered in a almost inaudible voice.
"What? Why?!"
Maybe that wasn't the right thing to say but it was all that Billy could think of after being sure his friend would have liked it.
"You can't keep on doing this to me." Michael stood up eyes, voice brittle and eyes pointed to the ground.
Billy could tell he was crying.
"What you on about?"
Michael turned around to face Billy and for the first time in two years, made eye contact.
Billy could see the tears in Michael's normally bright and cheerful green eyes. He hated that.
"Keep kissing me, and holding my hand, and making me fall in love with you. I know you ain't a poof and I know you'll never like me so stop...stop giving me hope. Michael's voice rose sounding more angry.
"Do you have any idea how many nights I've spent, staying awake just thinking about that bloody kiss, and how much nights I've spent, cry' in myself to sleep because I know you'll never like me?" Michael choked.
"You know I like you but, it doesn't mean you can to keep play' in with me like that."
Michael's voice became quiet again.
"Okay?"
Billy was silent.
"Look, I have to go."
And just like that, Michael was gone.
Leaving Billy.
There.
Alone.
At 11:30 PM, Billy found Michael. He was huddled against the shabby old metal wall near their houses. He knew he would find Michael there. The wall was there for as long as either of them known and it only seemed to get in worse condition each year. But even so, the two would always sit there if they were feeling angry or upset and the other would sit alongside them, just to provide comfort.
They had done it ever since they could remember.
It was their thing.
"Hey." Billy said as he walked up and stopped beside Michael putting his body against the wall.
"Hi." Michael replied. His voice was quiet and brittle and Billy knew he had been crying a lot.
Billy knew not to say anything. Michael just wanted to think.
So Billy let him.
Twenty minutes later, Billy spoke again.
"You know you're being a complete idiot, right?" Billy began.
Michael didn't reply so Billy continued.
"Do you know why I kissed you, that day before I left?" Billy asked, eyes pointed towards the night sky.
That question surprised Michael to say the least. He would be lying if he said he hadn't gone over that question a million times in his head before. Each time he would come to the conclusion that Billy was only being nice and that was it. It didn't mean anything.
Nothing at all.
"I don't know." Michael responded "to be nice?"
"No. You think I go around kissing everyone to be nice?"
"Then why, Billy? Because you pity me?"
"For Christ sake Michael. Don't be such a divvy. I bloody kissed you. What else do you think it could have meant?"
"I don't know."
"Jesus, you'd think that the whole kissing you thing would get the message across, huh?"
"What message?"
"So, you're really going to make me say it."
"Say what?
"Christ. I-"
Billy paused uncertain of what to say. Sure he had gone over what to say to Michael tons of times. But when the moment actually came, Billy found it so ironic that mind went a blank. So it was no surprise when he ended up saying this.
"Oh fuck it Michael, I bloody like you, alright?"`
Michael was frozen.
'What did he just say? He liked me? No, he couldn't.'
Michael half convinced himself that Billy hadn't just said that. He was only hearing what he wanted to hear. Billy wasn't a poof...right?
But when Michael looked up, he saw a confirmation to Billy's declaration.
Billy's face was sheepish and red and he could tell he was trying his best to hide it.
But Michael noticed.
It was adorable.
He had never seen Billy blush before.
"B-but you aren't- you said you ain't a poof."
"Fucking hell, I thought kissing you would have been a good nouf' indicator."
At 12:00 AM, Michael felt a soft pair of lips on his and he knew that he didn't have anything to worry about. He'd Never have to worry about feeling the pain in loving someone who would never love you back. Because Billy liked him. And he liked Billy. And for Michael, that was all that mattered.
"Who's the bloody poof now."
"Shut up, Caffery."
"I love you, Elliot"
"I know."
just a shitty after story to billy elliot the movie.
I also want to note that the phrase A "confirmation to his declaration" is not mines. It was taken from an excellent Billy Elliot Fan fiction which I cannot remember. Please do tell if you know so I can give credit.