A/N: Instead of one of the three fanfictions I'm meant to be updating, have this new one that I've been working on for several months now. I hope you enjoy!

From the moment Feliks entered seventh grade, he realized he was different from all of the other boys. They played sports during lunch, and ran around until they were doubled over, gasping for breath. Feliks sat in the shade with the girls and talked celebrity gossip. The boys changed in the locker rooms for gym with no hesitation, unafraid of who they were. Feliks waited unil he was the last one in the vicinity before he even thought about removing his clothes.

The shirts Feliks' mother bought for him felt like a second, unnecessary, and disturbingly loose skin that made him feel exposed to the world. The shorts she bought exposed his legs covered with soft, downy, but very visible hair, and he felt like a freak. When she brought him shopping, Feliks found himself drawn towards the silks and the satins of the dresses the girls wore. He often caught himself staring fixatedly at the lace panties and bras set out on display tables. He cared less for sneakers and more for high heels.

The first time his voice cracked, in eighth grade, his heart hit the floor. He never wanted this moment to happen, and he had dreaded it the moment he heard about it in the school's sex ed class. The other boys cheered for him when they heard.

"You're finally growing up, Feliks!"

"Look who's actually a guy!"

"This whole time we were convinced you were a girl!"

Their words stabbed at him like knives, but Feliks laughed along, accepting the smacks on his shoulders and back.

In ninth grade, Feliks feared nothing more than he feared his gym class. Not even his predestined future scared him as much as gym. Just like in middle school, every other guy was fine with changing in front of each other. Feliks, though, needed to change in private. He secured an unused shower stall, and changed there. Over the summer, he'd picked up a habit of buying and wearing women's underwear, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break the habit.

"Are these for your girlfriend?" the man at the cash register said.

Feliks stared at the lacy underwear in front of him. He looked up at the employee. He nodded. He couldn't spit out any sort of worded response, his throat felt tight.

"I'm sure she'll love them," the employee said with a wink.

At least if he kept up the appearance, or at least the lie, of having a girlfriend, Feliks could get away with most things.

Over the summer of tenth grade, he began watching youtube videos of girls who transformed themselves into what seemed like foreign creatures with their makeup. He was amazed with what they could do with only a few colors. Then he found the videos of men who could transform themselves with makeup, too. His heart ached to be able to do that.

He couldn't buy makeup, though. As much as his parents didn't care for him, they would care the instant he did something that would tarnish or put the family name at risk.

The Łukasiewicz family was one of renown in Europe and in America. His grandfather owned several businesses, and passed them down to his son, Feliks' father. Feliks, in turn, would be passed the businesses and rise to a state of power and control. His mother, just as successful as his father, was a fashion designer. She toured Europe for most of the year, in places like London, Paris, Milan, anywhere there was a fashion hype.

Because of their busy schedules, Feliks was often left alone in their mansion of a house, left to do nothing. At least his parents transferred a hefty sum of money into his bank account every month. They cared enough to keep their son content enough with money and things so he wouldn't bother them.

However as soon as Feliks put a toe out of line, buying makeup for example, he would be ushered back into subdued obedience to his parents. They feared him being anything but their perfect child who didn't say anything, earned good grades, and claimed he strove for challenge and fulfillment in his life.

In twelfth grade, Feliks met Toris. He was a transfer student from Lithuania, and Feliks had been charged with giving him a tour of the school, since they had the exact same schedule.

"I'm, like, Feliks," he said, his stomach a bit queasy. He didn't like to admit it, but meeting new people brought out a shy side in him.

"I'm Toris, it's nice to meet you," Toris said. His voice was soft. He spoke in a way that Feliks could only describe by making chinchilla-soft into an adjective for sound.

Toris extended a hand, and Feliks took it. His skin was rough, but still warm, and his hand completely closed over Feliks'. He felt like a lost child clinging to the nearest adult for safety and comfort.

Toris was perfect. His mocha brown hair fell lightly around his shoulders, and it looked so soft oh so soft Feliks wished he could just run his fingers through his hair. His eyes were the most pure green color Feliks had ever seen, and just looking into them for a few seconds transported him to a warm, peaceful summer day. Toris' smile was little, and shy, but he meant it every time. Nothing about him was fake, everything about him was perfect. Feliks could barely hide from the new student the way his eyes raked over his figure.

Feliks only had to see Toris to know he was in love. Not a childish crush from elementary school, or the fake love in middle school that only lasts a week, but real love. Love that had him grinning just at the mention of Toris' name, giggling at the sound of his voice, and that had his heart pounding whenever he saw him. It was the kind of love that kept him up for three days straight rolling over and over in his bed and hiding his grinning, blushing face under his blankets.

Until the end of twelfth grade, Feliks had no idea Toris felt the same way about him. Feliks had never dreamed of something like this happening in his entire life. He always seemed to be an outcast with everyone, despite how hard he tried to fit in. He knew all the right things to say and when to say them, he stayed caught up with celebrities and all of the newest music and books. Still, he was different than everyone else.

"Feliks, I..." Toris trailed off, fiddling with the edge of his light brown sweater.

They were eating lunch together as they had done all year, but now Toris was the one doing all of the talking. Usually Feliks did that for him, he had to tell all of the useless things he learned online to someone.

"You can totes tell me, Toris," Feliks said. He was trying to sound calm, but really his heart was racing. Ever since he met Toris, he'd been dreaming up one million different situations of Toris confessing his feelings to him.

"I really like you," Toris said. "I like you a lot, and I'm really sorry if you don't feel the same way, I don't want to assume-"

He stopped when Feliks took his hand. The blond was staring at him intently. "Shut up about like, all that crap right now," Feliks said. His somewhat serious expression broke into his typical, wide smile. Today was different, though. It wasn't fake, it was genuine. It was so genuine it was hurting Feliks' cheeks. "I like, like you, too. You must have known that by now." Some little voice in his head was screaming at him for using such a light word as like. He didn't mind Toris using it though, at least now he knew the other boy felt the same about him.

Toris' whole body relaxed in immediate relief, and he took a few moments to gather himself again before giving Feliks the same sort of genuine smile. "I'm glad," he said.

At first, he and Toris were able to keep their relationship on the down low. Only a few of Toris' friends knew about it, and both of them were thankful for that. When Toris came over to Feliks' house to spend the night, they discreetly brushed and sometimes held hands under the table at dinner time, and continued about their idle small talk above the table.

Feliks' parents loved Toris, even though he wasn't well-off financially; they appreciated his intelligence and his extensive knowledge of most topics.

"You are so well educated," Feliks' father said, "I'm amazed."

Feliks' rolled his eyes, but continued smiling. His parents always made jabs at the poorer people of the world, even if they didn't really mean to.

"Thank you," Toris said. He was like Feliks in that he knew what to say, and when to say it.

Feliks' mother picked up her glass of wine and swirled it lightly in the glass as she spoke. "I'm amazed as well, however did you learn so much?"

"I've always been naturally curious," Toris said. "I was also raised by my grandparents, and they both have a lot of stories to tell. The local bookstore was always open to me, whatever time of day or whatever the weather. When we moved here, my grandparents bought me a computer, and from there I researched on my own. I've also learned a lot in school."

Feliks' parents laughed.

"All Feliks does is look up the newest Lady Beyonce news, or what have you," his mother said, her lilting laugh stabbing Feliks. His parents never laughed.

"Lady Beyonce isn't, like, a thing, mom," Feliks said. "It's either Lady Gaga or Beyonce, both queens of today's world."

His mother's laugh vanished, and she gave him a sharp look. Feliks knew when he wasn't wanted, so he clammed up.

"What are you looking to major in in college, Toris?" his father asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Toris said. "I've considered being a teacher before, so then I can help others love learning, too."

Feliks' father nodded. "A respectable career, but really, you should be looking higher. Feliks here is going to major in business and become a CEO someday!"

Toris gave Feliks a confused look, but Feliks smiled through all of it. He had yet to tell Toris the extent of how little his parents thought of him as a human being rather than the next person to take over the Łukasiewicz family businesses.

After dinner, Toris sat on Feliks' bed with Feliks leaning against him. The door was shut, but they could hear Feliks' parents talking downstairs. Toris was polite, and stayed quiet for Feliks, knowing he would talk when he wanted to. Feliks never spoke about it though, and Toris didn't bother him about it.

Instead, Feliks' busied his mouth at Toris' neck, softly biting and kissing the skin there. He slowly, carefully moved his lips upwards and closer to Toris' mouth, leaving little kisses here and there. Toris turned to reciprocate the kiss when Feliks' lips reached his own, and both of their eyes shut. Feliks ran a hand through Toris' brown hair, and he sighed, unable to get over it. His hair was chinchilla-soft like his voice, and it was amazing. Even Feliks' own hair couldn't compare.

"You have to tell me what conditioner you use," Feliks muttered as Toris broke the kiss to plant his own lips along Feliks' jawline. Toris' hands were on his shoulders, gently urging him to lay down.

Feliks complied, his heart racing so fast it was nearly causing him pain. He could barely breathe as Toris moved on top of him, knees on either side of Feliks' narrow hips. They were watching each other with equally as bright green eyes, unable to sever the eye contact. Not really knowing what he was doing, Feliks lifted a hand and placed it over Toris' heart, his was beating just as fast as Feliks'.

The movement seemed to remind them of where they were and what they were doing, and Toris leaned down. Feliks' eyes slid shut when Toris' lips were against his own again. Their mouths were opening, their tongues were softly, shyly touching, neither of them had much experience. Toris' hands were gliding under Feliks' shirt, feeling each pulse through his veins, each muscle, each bone.

The warm pads of his fingers ghosted over Feliks' nipples, and the blond gasped. Toris instantly withdrew, never wanting to make Feliks uncomfortable.

"Should I stop?" he asked.

Feliks shook his head, frantically pulling Toris back down to him. "Like, keep going," he muttered. He hadn't been blushing until then, but the 'like' snuck up on him. He felt like such an idiot for saying it during an intimate moment between them. But Toris didn't seem to notice. If he did, he didn't say anything. His hands continued their exploration beneath Feliks' shirt, and their mouths were joined once again.

"Feliks, I need to talk to you."

His door was open. There wasn't even a knock. His father was in the doorway.

It didn't take long for Toris to react, within the blink of an eye he was standing at the opposite side of the room, head bowed and hands folded behind his back. Feliks was left on his bed, still confused as to what happened. One second he was in heaven, the next he was in hell. His father seemed calm, and that scared him more than anger. Shame, guilt, and fear all coursed through him, making him want to vomit everywhere. He slowly sat up, his head turned to the floor.

"You need to leave," his father said, indicating Toris.

Toris followed the instruction, pausing at the door when Feliks' father didn't move aside for him. Very slowly, he turned to allow Toris to pass. He was gone in a flash, the front door slamming behind him.

Feliks dared to look at his father. The man was still in a state of pseudo-calm. Just as slowly as he moved aside for Toris, he moved towards Feliks. The younger Łukasiewicz bit back the bitterness and bile rising in his throat and mouth. He couldn't do anything, he was frozen like a deer in the headlights.

A hand connected with the left side of his face, and he was nearly flung off of his bed. Feliks could only see white, and his breathing was becoming ragged. Both of his ears were ringing from the impact, but he knew his father was shouting at him. Feliks didn't care to listen, he couldn't handle all of the emotions brewing in his gut. He was scared, but also angry and betrayed, he was worried only for himself, he didn't even think of Toris or how it would negatively impact his future.

Another hand connected with his face, and this time it hurt. The one before had been drowned out by shock and fear, but this one was hot like fire. He could vaguely see his mother in the doorway, but she didn't move to do anything. It actually seemed more like she was shouting at him, too.

.

Feliks' phone was ringing somewhere, but he just couldn't find it. He reached out blindly from his spot on the bed, groping around for the poor-quality, buzzing version of Material Girl. After only a few moments of grabbing at empty air, he sat up and rubbed at his eyes. His phone temporarily stopped ringing, but moments later it was going off again.

"Like, who needs me this early?" Feliks muttered, grabbing his phone off of the nightstand. It had been just out of his reach, as usual. The time in the uppermost center of his phone read 2:32 pm, it was nowhere near early anymore, even by his standards.

The caller ID above the answer or end options though, had his heart soaring. Within an instant he was wide awake as he swiped the answer option.

"Toris!" he cried. "Toris, I had like, the weirdest dream! It was about that time, y'know, like, at my old house and my dad walked in on us. We were like, so dumb! We should have known that would happen!" he burst into laughter. He could never let Toris know the event had ended with him in physical pain.

"That's nice, Feliks," Toris said, used to his boyfriend's enthusiastic greetings. "Did you only just wake up?"

"Yup!"

Toris sighed on the other end, but Feliks could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm glad you slept well."

"So like, what did you need?" Feliks asked.

"Oh, I just wanted to tell you that my grandfather's fine, he made it out of surgery okay."

"Toris, that's like, totally amazing!" he cheered.

"Mhmm, and he needs me to pick him up from the hospital and bring him home, so I'll be able to visit you," Toris said. Feliks' heart was racing. The last time he had seen Toris was when the school year started. It had been a bitter farewell, but they both knew it wasn't forever. "Make sure the house is clean, I know you've had it to yourself for the months he's been away so it's probably a mess."

Feliks looked around his room as Toris said that. Clothes and discarded water bottles were all over the floor. He knew for a fact he hadn't done the dishes in a week, and he definitely couldn't remember the last time he had taken out the trash or eaten something that hadn't started in a can or a plastic package.

"I always keep the house clean, Toris! You like, totally need to believe in me more," he said.

Feliks could practically hear Toris rolling his eyes. "We'll be there in a few hours, hopefully it's not too bad of a mess."

Feliks laughed loudly, sat up straighter and crossed his legs. "Toris, you're awful to me, assuming that I've like, let the house go to total shit. Can't like, wait to see you and your cute butt, though."

Toris laughed a bit awkwardly on the other side of the phone. "I had your call on speaker, my roommate just heard that."

"Hi roommate!"

Toris didn't know what else he was expecting from Feliks. "I'll see you soon."

"See you soon!"

Feliks didn't wait for Toris to hang up before he ended the call. Already he was in a panic, he didn't know what to clean first or if he should take a shower first. Did he even need to shower? Surely he didn't smell that bad, maybe a bit like vodka, but that wasn't anything new.

He opted to go downstairs and clean everything down there first. Toris' grandfather didn't care if Toris and Feliks' room was a mess, but he certainly cared if the downstairs half of the house had even a speck of dust.

As he set to work cleaning the dishes and humming a song he'd heard on the radio the night before, he thought about his dream. It had been over a year since he had even thought about his father or mother or that house or that night. He preferred to keep it that way. After the incident his parents kept him locked up in the house for as long as they could, with no contact what so ever with Toris.

They couldn't keep him forever though, and one night when his mother went to his room to announce dinner, Feliks was long gone. He escaped through the window, despite being on the second story of the house. He'd only mildly injured his right leg, but he didn't let that stop him. With only a few things in his bag, he had already made it halfway though the seven mile walk to Toris' house that he shared with his grandparents.

When the front door was opened for him, he put on his best smile for Toris. He was roped into a hug, and Toris was crying into his shoulder. Feliks lightly patted his back, laughing.

"Toris, like, I'm okay, calm down, okay?"

Toris nodded and wiped at his eyes, but he was still shaking and sniffling. Feliks continued to laugh, he never wanted Toris to know he was unhappy.

Toris' grandparents the next day asked Feliks a lot of questions, but never pressed him when he was unready or unwilling to answer something. Toris sat next to him the whole time, holding his hand. Luckily, his grandparents were kind, understanding people who were very happy to accept Feliks into their lives.

Toris had been accepted into a university on the other side of the country, and despite insisting he wanted to live on campus for the first two years, his grandfather had purchased a house just a few hours away so they would be close enough to visit, but far enough to let him enjoy his education. Feliks was invited to stay with them, and he greedily accepted. The last thing on his mind was how much he was going to cost these two kind, loving people, or how much of a burden he would become to them.

His parents could have very easily tracked him down if they had wanted to, but there was never a report of a missing boy named Feliks Łukasiewicz who had run away because of his horrible, abusive parents and their close-minded bigoted opinions.

Once they had moved though, rules were set out for Feliks.

"You will find a job," Toris' grandfather said. "I don't care what it is, but you will find a job. You will live your first four months here free, but after that I expect you to pay three hundred dollars in rent and pay for your own groceries."

Feliks nodded, paying rapt attention. He'd never been treated like an adult before, it was scary, but also very relieving. "I'll try my hardest," he said.

At first he did the usual thing of applying to places like Starbucks, or clothing stores, anywhere he would enjoy his work. It was proving to be one of the most difficult things in his life, he didn't have a college degree, and nothing about him really stood out or made a difference to employers on his resume.

He was convinced he was out of luck and should have just endured his parents, until he got a call from the local library.

"H-hello?" he asked, voice quiet.

"Hello, yes, is this Feliks... L... I'm sorry, I don't know how to pronounce your last name," the woman on the other end said.

Feliks laughed a little, but the creeping fear that he would say something stupid began to boil in his stomach. "Yes, that's me." Even just three words had him covering the speaker on his phone so he could gasp for breath.

"Great, I saw your application, we would love to have you," she said.

"Really?" he asked, hope flaring up in his chest. "Like, for real?" He bit his tongue.

The woman laughed. "Yes, for haven't had many applicants. I hope you know, as it is a library, it's a quiet job and not a lot happens."

Nothing could have ever sounded more perfect to Feliks. "When should I c-come in for an interview?"

"Oh, no need for an interview, dear, you laid yourself out very openly in your application and resume." He could have fallen over with relief. "When can you start?"

"Any time," Feliks said.

"Great, I'll see you Monday at eight am," she said. She hung up the phone, and Feliks released a shaky breath. He had never heard such good news in his life, he just had to tell someone. He glanced at the clock, Toris would still be in classes for the next two hours. His next option was to run downstairs and tell Toris' grandmother. She was a sweet old lady who didn't mind Feliks when he was shy around her, and loved him now that he as more open and comfortable with her.

"Miss Laurinaitis, guess what!" Feliks cheered as he leaped down the stairs two at a time. "I've got a job at the library!" He was all smiles and laughter.

When he found the old woman, his happiness sank, and he burst into panic. She was laying face down on the floor, and wasn't moving. His chest was pounding, and not for the first time in his life he couldn't remember how to breathe. He couldn't even remember how to think. Was he supposed to call an ambulance, or check and see if she was okay? Could he do both at the same time? He stared for at least another minute before he came to his senses and ran back upstairs to get his phone and dial for an ambulance.

The funeral was held two weeks after Feliks had found her laying on the ground. He blamed himself for not having noticed, for having been on his computer upstairs, instead of somewhere near her and available to call for help. Toris' grandfather wasn't mad at him, and told him to not be mad at himself.

"We are old," he told Feliks. "Things like this happen, you couldn't have known or have done anything different."

Still, Feliks held Toris' hand tightly in his own, refusing to cry.

A/N: Welcome to the newest story in the college AU I have started! It is not required to read Eccentric Roommates before this one, you will understand the story fine without reading that one. I have never written for Poland before, but it has been one of the best experiences ever, and I just hope I have stayed true to his character.