I don't own any of this stuff! XC

*PoV Magnus*

The teacher stood in front of the class and talked. I'm deaf, so I couldn't hear her, but I'm pretty good at reading lips. "We have a new student with us today, class." She motioned for me to stand in front of the class and introduce myself. I signed with my finger, "Hello, my name is Magnus Bane."

I could see the confused looked on the other student's faces. Except for one, who had beautiful blue eyes and raven black hair. The corners of his mouth lifted, only just, into a small smile. I saw his fingers move under his desk. "Hi, Magnus, I'm Alec Lightwood."

I smiled and felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and looked at the smiling teacher, who was pointing at my seat. I read the teachers lips again. "As you could probably tell, Magnus is deaf, so he signs with his fingers. If you would like to talk to him, you could talk to Alec, who also knows sign language. I- yes, Magnus?" I had raised my hand.

I signed, "I can read lips. They don't have to sign."

"Oh, he can read lips, okay, you don't have to sign what you say at all."

She smiled and said that we could have free draw/study/whatever time. I looked over at Alec, his hair covering his eyes as he drew furiously on a piece of white lined paper. I looked over to see what it was, but one of the jocks (I'm guessing) snatched it away.

Alec jumped up to get it, turning away from me, so I could only see one side of the conversation.

"What'cha drawin', fag boy?" the jock said.

Alec said something that made the jocks face turn purple with rage.

"You think you can talk to me like that?"

Alec tried to grab the paper.

"Oh no you don't." The bully looked at the paper, laughed, and called his friends over. "Hey, guys look, fag boy was drawing the new kid!"

I saw Alec's ears go bright red, and the jock crumpled up the paper and threw it at me. Then he shoved Alec into his seat. I picked up the paper and un-crumpled it. I was stunned. It was me, well, my face. He had drawn me to perfection.

The paper was snatched from me angrily. I looked up at Alec, his face red. He said something too fast for me to read. I stared at him blankly. He crumpled the picture back up and threw it in my face. His head snapped up. I looked at the teacher, who had ignored Alec being picked on but had chosen to notice me. She was yelling at him, saying that's no way to treat the… disabled.

I hate it when people call me that. Disabled. Because I don't see it as that.

She pointed at the door and he stormed out.

Everyone left a few minutes later and I guessed the bell had rung. I gathered up my books and went into the hallway, then had my books knocked out of my hands by the jock that had picked on Alec. It was lunch, so I went out into the yard and sat beneath the bleachers.

I lit up a cigarette and breathed in the sweet smoke, closing my eyes and resting against the support beam. I willed myself to think of happy things, of daisies and kittens, of puppies and blue skies. My thoughts were invaded by bright, intelligent blue eyes, hidden behind stark black hair.

I blew out a stream of smoke and crossed one leg over the other, feeling, in a word, alone. I had been to so many schools over the last eighteen years, and most of them ended up with me being expelled because I smoked. I guess I never learn.

I banish thee, I cast thee out of thy home, into the lands of pain and torture, into a land of no sound, only sight. I tear thee from all thy knowith, all thy care about! I banish thee to pain almost intolerable, the pain of loneliness.

My thoughts were interrupted when I was prodded in the ribs. I looked around and I saw Alec, sat next to me, with his arms wrapped around his knees.

"About time you opened your eyes," he signed.

"Well, I'm sorry if I can't sense when people are around, I haven't mastered that yet," I signed, trying to make it seem sarcastic and snappy.

"I'm sorry I threw the paper at you."

"It was a wonderful picture."

"You think so?"

"Yeah. You're a really good artist."

"Thanks."

"How do you know sign?"

"My little brother was deaf."

"Was?"

"He got caught in a fire at his elementary school. A student had set it, but they never found out whom. He didn't survive the burns."

"I'm sorry. My dad died in a house fire when I was ten."

"So you live with your mom?"

"No, she committed suicide when I was six."

"Oh. Oh god, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, I have great foster fathers."

"Fathers?"

"Yeah. They're both great, but I wish they could adopt me. They can't since the government doesn't think that gay couples are suitable to raise a child. But I'm not a child anymore, so I'm going to move in with them. They thought it was funny that they decided to foster the only gay kid in the orphanage."

"You're gay?"

"Yeah. You okay with that? Or are you like the rest of them?"

"We live in San Francisco. If I were a homophobe I would be being beaten up a whole lot more. There are some scary macho gay guys here. Even some cops are gay. And I'm gay, too."

"Oh. How'd you come out?"

"I haven't. I don't think my parents would approve."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No. You?"

"No, I don't. Have you ever been kissed?"

"No, I haven't. Would… would you like to go out on a date with me?"

"Yes. I would. Friday?"

"Yeah, Friday would be nice."

We sat in a comfortable silence. I tapped his shoulder, causing him to turn. I leaned over and kissed him, feeling his soft breath on my cheek.

I smiled. "Now you've been kissed," I signed.