There is non-graphic scenes of non-con in later chapters of this story, featured in memories and dream sequences only. Please do not read if this disturbs you.

Also, Orochimaru is in the same year as the other characters despite his being a lot older. If that strays too far from canon for your liking, consider yourself warned.

Ah, fuck. Kiba sighed and drummed his fingers on the desk. He was going to have to draw the banana now.

Kiba loved drawing; it was his passion and one of the only things he was any good at. He wasn't good at bananas, though. He didn't do bananas.

Deciding to put off the inevitable, he laid his head on the desk to rest for a minute. It smelt of paint and glue and it was scratchy and bumpy in places but he didn't mind. From his position with his head to one side, he could see the girl sitting next to him and, if he turned his head to the left, he would be able to see the other guy on his side of the table. This amused him greatly. He put it down to the paint fumes.

Kiba bit his lip and fidgeted with his hands under the table. The girl he was staring at had very blond hair and blue eyes. Hitler youth, whispered his subconscious and he giggled under his breath.

The girl also had her hair in a short boyish cut, which was actually quite cute and looked soft to the touch, like the fur on ducklings. Don't ducklings have feathers? asked his niggling voice of reason. Kiba didn't like this voice. He figured it got in the way of a good time.

Such as now, when it was already trying to pester him with another unimportant detail. This is an all boys school, it whined, Why is there a girl here? Why does she have an Adam's apple? I think that's a boy. He snorted. That was ridiculous, she couldn't possibly be a –

Damn.

Kiba examined the girl – boy? – closer. Sure enough, there was an Adam's apple, which pretty much proved it to his knowledge. A pink tongue peeked out from between the girl – boy's – lips as he strained in concentration at his piece of paper. His surprisingly feminine face was smeared with charcoal and paint – like the desk – but Kiba no longer found it cute. He was straight, pretty boys be damned.

It was actually kind of weird, in his opinion. How could a boy be that - he searched for an appropriate, heterosexual word – girly? No, not girly but – he cursed his limited vocabulary – pretty. Really pretty. It freaked him out.

"What's your name?" he asked. The blond boy's head snapped up and Kiba was shocked at how wide and goddamn blue his eyes were. What was up with this kid?

"Pardon?" Kiba snorted. Posh kids, they just couldn't say huh or what. "Oh. I'm Naruto, nice to meet you." Naruto's face split into a huge grin.

Kiba mulled this over and stored it away as an interesting titbit. When he looked back up, the kid was still staring at him with that Cheshire-cat grin.

"What you looking at me for?" Naruto looked momentarily uneasy before he laughed and his smile returned. Kiba's back itched. He felt like someone was watching him.

"I wanted to know what your name was." Blondie was still making a face like a happy cat stretched out in the sun and Kiba wondered how the kid managed to be so – damn gay vocabulary – cute all the time.

"Kiba," he mumbled into his arm, "You can call me Pimp Master Supreme." His back was starting to get seriously itchy now but scratching took a lot of effort. Blondie's eyes had grown even wider and Kiba's annoying reason voice murmured something about not causing a stir with the posh kids. He was only here on an art scholarship and it could be taken away as soon as he put a foot out of line. He really needed this school.

Blondie had recovered by now and bounced back into his happy place.

"Nice to meet you," he repeated, "I hope we can be friends." Kiba waved his hand and hummed noncommittally. He was sure the kid was great, seriously, but he couldn't deal with all the happy this kid was emitting today. He was much too busy with his own thoughts.

Kiba turned his head to the other side, shutting off any further conversation. He already felt bad for waving off the poor kid. They could be friends on any other day. He was a friendly guy and the kid seemed like a lot of fun but …

Today was a bad day for him. He was nervous about the future, his future. His position in school was tenuous at best and he really wasn't that smart. He needed a lot of help with his studies and he didn't know where to get it. He didn't fit in with all these weird, polite, goddamn feminine-looking posh kids and he missed his weird, non-polite, actually feminine girlfriend. Plus, the guy on his other side just glared at him.

Wait. What?

Kiba blinked and the other guy looked away. What the hell? It hadn't just been a glare of mild annoyance, there was some serious hate in that glare. Serious fucking hate indeed.

Kiba sighed and rested his forehead on the table, absolutely refusing to make eye contact with any super happy blondies or crazy glaring freaks. He grew bored of that though and risked another glance at Crazy Glaring Freak, who was no longer paying him any attention. The guy was kind of like a polar opposite to Blondie: ink black hair, dark eyes and some sort of smug, self-satisfied smirk instead of Blondie's slightly mind-splitting, megawatt grin. Kiba was frankly surprised the guy was smiling at all, he didn't look like the kind that even believed in fun or happiness or kittens or whatever. In fact, he was even blushing from goddamn happy. His face looked kind of like –

Well, shit.

Trying to be as inconspicuous and heterosexual as possible, Kiba slid Blondie's pencil off the table.

"Oops", he mumbled, "Sorry, I'll get that." He ducked down under the wooden surface and glanced quickly – and not at all gaily – at the front of Crazy Glaring Freak's pants.

He was a lot happier than Kiba had suspected. In the pants.

Traumatised, Kiba returned to the land of the disturbing and handed Blondie his pencil.

"Thanks!" Blondie grinned and went back to sketching the pineapple. Sketching. Sketching sounded good. There were no girl-boys or glaring freaks or horny glaring freaks if he immersed himself in sketching.

He had been looking wrong, he decided. It was a trick of the light. The guy was thinking about his girlfriend. He had an odd thing for fruit. Any of these were preferable to the other explanation his stupid voice of reason starting hurling at him.

For the next fifteen minutes he made light, awkward conversation with Blondie, who was a damn cool kid and didn't mind being called Blondie at all. Not that this mattered to Kiba, but it was nice to know the nickname was approved. By the time Kiba had finished his sketch, they were already on pretty good terms and Kiba had started feeling better about the school in general. He had found a friend.

His back still itched in what he now knew was the result of repetitive glares from CGF, who probably hated him for blocking his view of the sexy fruit or something, but he tried not to pay it too much mind. Fuck that guy, he could go choke.

Kiba pushed back his chair and headed over to a grey table of drawers to get some paints. He turned back to ask Blondie if he wanted anything.

Crazy Glaring Freak was staring at Blondie. Proper staring.

A worrying image of what he had seen under the table flashed through his head. Blondie was pretty and the guy might not have seen the Adam's apple. It was hardly the guy's fault, no matter how much of a bastard he was, and Kiba resolved to politely inform him.

Then Blondie stood up to lean across the table for a brush. A mixture of the angle of his eyes and educated guesswork told him where Crazy Glaring Freak was looking. Oh yeah, he'd seen the Adam's apple all right.

Now he was slightly torn. On the one hand, he didn't mind gay people, as long as they weren't coming on to him in any way and Crazy Glaring Freak couldn't help how he was. On the other hand, this guy was staring at his friend's crotch and that just wasn't cool. Plus, he had glared at him and he deserved retribution for –

Oh my God.

Pervy Gay Freak had been glaring at him because he thought he was making a move on Blondie. Or hogging him or whatever. That wasn't important. What was important was that he thought Kiba was gay.

He thought Kiba was gay.

Kiba grabbed his paints and the slammed the drawer with conviction and a loud bang. It didn't matter if the guy was gay and pervy and an asshole and was taking visual advantage of his friend. The guy was wrong - damn wrong - and needed to be put straight where Kiba was concerned. And Kiba was concerned. And straight. Very straight.

He waltzed back to the table and sat down, spreading out his paints in the most macho and manly display of paint arranging ever to be conceived.

"Didn't you get me any paints?" asked Naruto, eyeing his small – but manly – selection.

"No, sorry, I forgot. I was distracted because I was thinking," he turned his head slightly towards Pervy Gay Freak, "about women. Attractive, naked women. With boobs."

Pervy Gay Freak lifted his head and raised an eyebrow. He appeared to be caught between amusement and disgust but Kiba was sure he got the point.

"Okay," Blondie said after an incredulous pause, "I'm going to go get my own paints."

Naruto stood up and walked away, though not before Pervy Gay Freak had managed to ogle his ass, Kiba noted.

"Stop. Staring. At. Him." He spat. PGF smirked and carried on drawing. It was a crappy drawing, Kiba noticed, and that made it worse. If he was going to be gay, he should at least attempt to make it obvious by being bad at sports and good at art and stuff. He should wear pink as well. Yeah.

"Why should you care? Aren't you more into attractive, naked women with boobs?" Kiba was slightly surprised at that. He didn't even think the guy would answer.

"Because he's my friend and you shouldn't stare at him, you bastard," he replied, with more conviction than he actually felt. He whipped his head round to make sure Naruto wasn't within earshot.

"Why not? It's a victimless crime," said PGF, shrugging his shoulders. Kiba's head snapped back and he yanked the guy's drawing out from underneath him. If he was going to get angry at this guy, the bastard was going to fucking notice it.

"It's creepy, that's what it is."

"Why? I'm sure you stare at girls."

That stumped him for a moment. Why was it more creepy? Was it because it was two guys? No, it couldn't be. He was pretty sure he had no problem with that. He struggled for an answer.

"Because … because," inspiration hit like a sack of bricks to the face, "because he's in an all-boys school and he won't be expecting it. You should be safe from that kind of stuff in school."

"Girls in mixed schools aren't."

"Well, he's not a girl, is he?" He shouted. Jesus, this guy was pissing him off.

"Who isn't a girl?"

Both heads snapped up to see Naruto, standing there with a pile of paints in his arms and a look of total confusion on his face.

"No one," PGF said.

"Yeah. What he said."

Blondie shrugged and sat down to start painting and PGF leaned forward with his head on one hand. Kiba tried to tell him via advanced sign language and facial expressions that if that was the position he used for sizing up Blondie then he shouldn't be making it. Aforementioned Blondie looked up just as he was attempting to explain that he had a brother who was 6'10 and could do some incredibly creative things to guys who couldn't keep their eyes to themselves.

"Do you need to go to the loo or something? You're dancing around a lot."

"No, Blondie," he saw PGF frown at the nickname, "No, Blondie, I don't." Blondie laughed and shook his head.

"You are acting really, really odd. Maybe you should go outside and breathe for a bit. Get the paint fumes out of your system." Kiba cut off his miniature glaring match with PGF, which didn't mean the guy had won no matter how much he goddamn smirked about it, and turned round. Go outside and leave him all alone with the Freak?

"What? Why? I'm fine." Blondie put on a face of mock terror.

"Oh God, tell me you're not always like this." Kiba whacked him over the head with a paintbrush. He had to fix his abysmal grades, keep up his relationship long distance and protect Blondie from Pervy Gay Bastard; he didn't want to deal with Blondie's cheek as well.

It was going to be a long term.