Vladimir had always looked frail. Since they were kids, Stefan had always looked tougher. Sure, they were both short, but Vladimir had always come off as breakable. He was skinny, pale, blond. He looked a bit like a porcelain doll.
That's probably why the bullies went for Vladimir first.
"Alright, fag, hand them over."
Vladimir didn't look the large boy in the eyes. He looked away, eerily calm despite the large hand clamped around his neck. The blond didn't even struggle.
"I said, hand them over."
"I don't have anything," said Vladimir, gaze switching from a wall to his attacker's face.
Paul Lahote growled at him and slammed his skinny body against a wall. Vladimir made no noise, though his feet were no longer touching the ground.
"Give me my keys, faggot."
"I don't have them. Now let me go."
Paul growled and the two went into a stare-off. Neither of the boys blinked until Paul was knocked off of his feet. Vladimir fell heavily to the ground, confused for a minute. Then he noticed a hand pulling him to his feet.
"Really, Vladimir? Getting into fights? It's only after first period."
Vladimir rolled his eyes. "Shut up and give him his keys, Stefan."
"What the hell is wrong with you two?" yelled Paul. "I'm gonna beat the shit outta you both!"
Paul lunged forward, but he ended up running into the wall. The small Romanians were faster than they looked. Paul heard one of them laugh before his car keys smacked him in the back of the head. When he turned around, the two were gone.
"Little fags are probably going to make out," he growled.
Paul was almost right.
Vladimir and Stefan had retreated to the roof together, sitting down near the air conditioning system.
"You have a bruise already," Stefan said, looking at the black-clad teen sideways.
Vladimir sighed and put a hand over the new injury. This was one he couldn't hide with his long sleeves.
"Shit," Vladimir mumbled.
"Are the others fading yet?"
Knowing Stefan was talking about the ones on the rest of him, Vladimir shook his head. Stefan moved even closer to his best friend, so now their shoulders and legs were touching. The dark-haired boy threaded his fingers with his blond friend's. With that, Vladimir slumped onto his friend with a large, pained sigh.
"Do you need to stay with me tonight?"
"I might…"
Stefan wrapped both arms around Vladimir's thin torso, but still the pale boy was silent. His breathing was shaky, sure - but there was no sound. Stefan was used to the silence, though, and knew that Vladimir was feeling very horrible.
"Hey, Vladimir?"
"Hm?"
"Look at me."
Vladimir did so, his usually dominating behavior gone. He looked…pathetic, almost. More frail than usual. Stefan grinned and pressed a kiss to Vladimir's oddly red lips. It didn't last long, but Stefan liked it.
"What was that?" asked Vladimir, confused, but not disgusted.
"Me telling you that someone loves you."
"Cheesy dork," accused Vladimir, smiling. "Prove it again."
Stefan was all too happy to oblige. Anything to make Vladimir's pain to go away.
Jesus, I'm a dork. I've been writing so much cheesy stuff. I blame the fact that someone is actually flirting with me.