I NEED A BOYFRIEND

Step 3: Using the Boyfriend

It was drawing towards 7:00pm on Saturday evening and Stephen was hurrying about preparing; both physically and mentally. It was a smart-casual dress code – I mean seriously what does that even mean – and so Stephen had tried at least 20 different outfits before deciding on slightly white-washed ripped jeans and a bright purple, loose hanging, rather revealing vest top thing. Not to brag, but it set off his caramel skin tone, and he looked hot. So why was his heart still pounding incessantly in his head?

Oh yes. Because Frank freaking Grayson was his date tonight. Frank. Freaking. Grayson. His boyfriend… fake boyfriend. And only for the night. But still.

He had kissed his cheek.

That had to mean something right?

A boy could dream.

He had texted Frank earlier in the day with all the details for tonight. It had been a bloody nightmare trying to get hold of his number - ended up going through every single boy on Chantelle's contacts, and there were quite a few, until they found one who was vaguely friends with one of Frank's cronies. Frank had responded to Stephen's strict instructions as to his address and the time and the dress code with a simple "K" so Stephen just had to hope for the best.

It was still only 6:45 but Stephen was listening out keenly for the doorbell.

Oh god, 6:49.

6:52

6:55

6:57

6:58

6:59

7:00

He should be here by now.

7:01

What if he's lost?

7:02

What if he's forgotten?

7:03

What if he's bailed and stood him up?

7:04

What if…

But then the doorbell went.

Stephen sprinted down the stairs. "I'll get it." He yelled. He wrenched open the door, smiling.

"Hiya Frank…" he trailed off midsentence as he got a proper look at the boy standing on his doorstep.

This boy – man – was tall and muscly. He was clean shaven and smart and smelt amazing. His hair was messy but neat and just generally perfect, and he was displaying a shy half-smile on his lips. He was wearing dark jeans and a tight fitting grey t-shirt with a jacket over the top; the perfect image of a bad boy. Just all round perfect, really.

Stephen's mouth literally dropped open.

"You look…" he stuttered. "Good." Stephen finished not wanting to overdo it.

"Well, you look amazing so…" Frank grinned.

Stephen became aware of the fact he was holding something down by his side which he now brought up to Stephen.

It was a bunch of white and red roses. Stephen's favourite.

"For you." He blushed.

Stephen could not believe it. He literally could not believe it.

He graciously thanked Frank, taking the flowers into the kitchen where he quickly put them in a vase and grabbed his bag.

"We should get going." He said when he returned.

"Yeh, sorry I was a bit late. I guess I got carried away getting ready and everything."

Stephen openly ran his eyes up and down Frank's body appreciatively. "Well, it was certainly worth it."

Frank only blushed a little. Stephen grinned.

"Shall we be off then?" Frank pressed and Stephen nodded.

He called a goodbye to his parents and they headed out.

In the car, or truck, they talked about general things like how nice Stephen's house is or what a good job Frank had done with this truck. Every so often there would come a teasing comment about how one or the other brushed up well or how this was going to work. The conversation was easy and nice. And fun. They actually got along pretty well.

Bloody hell, Stephen had to stop thinking like this.

They got to the place of the party and Frank got out. He went around and opened the door for Stephen, like a proper gentleman. Stephen grinned and gratefully took the assistance descending from the truck. They headed in together and just as they reached the door, Stephen felt a hand slide around his waist. He looked up, surprised.

Frank shrugged. "Got to be realistic, right?"

"Yeh, I suppose. Er, good idea." Stephen smiled, secretly thoroughly enjoying the hand on his waist.

They pushed the doors open and walked in, the music and atmosphere hitting them the minute they did. It was being held in the dance hall but it had been completely transformed. There were bright lights flashing everywhere and a makeshift bar in one corner; the adults had obviously chosen to turn a blind eye on this one. People immediately started rushing up to Stephen, and more importantly, Frank, gushing about how wonderful it was to finally meet him and how Stephen had said so much about him.

Everyone, boys and girls, was literally swooning at him, and Stephen didn't blame them; he did look very attractive in that tight t-shirt. They felt up his muscles and hung onto his every word, Frank happily chatting all the while. Stephen was beaming, proud. He could feel his popularity rising and all the boys that had been annoying him all year took one look at Frank and backed off. Plus, it was like Frank was his, wasn't it? Because he was his boyfriend and everyone loved him. (Fake boyfriend, fake, Stephen had to reinforce in his mind.)

But what made it even better was Frank glancing at Stephen every so often, while this was all happening, and sharing a secret smile. But even more so was the fact that Frank's fingers on Stephen's waist were constantly moving, sliding under the shirt, stroking and caressing the skin there. It made Stephen's knees weak.

Oh Jesus Christ. What had he done?

Eventually, people drifted away, giving the pair more space. Stephen managed to get to the 'bar' and get them a couple of beers before heading back to Frank. The evening went by surprisingly easily and Stephen found himself thoroughly enjoying himself. Frank didn't look like he was having too bad a time either with all these toned girls, and boys, swooning over him. However, much to Stephen's appreciation, he didn't try anything with them, staying true to Stephen and his (fake) relationship. Frank was, actually, the perfect boyfriend. He was there when Stephen wanted him to dance or stand and chat, but when Stephen wanted to go and talk to his other friends, he let him. He was really up for dancing, any kind, from casual bobbing, to hilarious freestyle, to slow dancing. And he wasn't half bad for someone surrounded by a dance school.

But still, the best bits were when they were together and Frank would just touch him; sometimes he would take his hand, sometimes it was the arm around the waist or shoulder, sometimes he would even caress his face. This, in turn, gave Stephen more confidence to occasionally stroke his bicep, or dance closer to him, or wrap his arms around his neck.

It was halfway through the evening and, after quite a few more drinks, Stephen and Frank were happily dancing again. However, glancing around the room, it appeared that everyone was watching their every move as every time Frank would lean closer to whisper something in Stephen's ear or Stephen would slide his hands over Frank's chest, someone would wolf whistle or call over or clap. It appeared there was always at least one pair of eyes on them, which would quickly flit away as soon as they looked, just to be replaced by another. Stephen was the centre of talk and he owed it all to Frank Grayson.

It was strange because he had almost forgotten that this was the same Frank Grayson who slammed year 7s into lockers for no apparent reason, or who drew dicks all over the biology microscopes. This was a different side to him; this was Frank, the real Frank, while that was all Grayson.

He glanced up, to see Frank looking down at him. They shared a soppy smile and Stephen dared to wind his hands around Frank's neck as they danced. They moved together, quite contently staring into each other's eyes, whether this for the show or whether it was because they wanted to, neither were quite sure.

Their moment was broken, however, by a loud giggling. They looked up, flushing, to find what the joke was, and found a group of girls staring at them.

"What?" Frank asked, still smiling gently.

"Nothing…" One of the girls replied.

"Aha, what is it?" Stephen asked. It didn't seem like they were laughing at them, more just about them – either way he was curious.

"You're just so cute. That's all." Another girl piped up. The others all tried to shush her, but yet another continued her track.

"You're like so perfect for each other; you really suit. We've been watching you pretty much all night, like basically everyone else in here, and you guys are so in love, it's so so adorable. And we're so proud of you for being so out like this like we've never seen such a confident gay couple. It just makes us all so happy."

"Basically, we ship you like the motherf-ing Titanic." Another one finished.

"Thanks. I think?" Stephen laughed, risking a peek up at Frank to find him grinning too.

"Yeh, you're welcome. Just thought you should know how happy you make us all. You know, and stuff. Sorry, just someone had to say it." And with that the group walked past.

The boys looked at each other.

"So we're perfect for each other?" Frank teased.

"Apparently we really suit." Stephen winked back.

"Such a confident gay couple… I'm so proud of us." Frank joked back and they returned to their dancing, now moving slightly closer than before.

Neither of them mentioned, however, the comment about being in love.

The evening was coming to a close and Frank and Stephen had just come off the dance floor after a particularly emotional slow dance. They now stood at the side, surveying the room, still noticing eyes on them at all times. It was like they were waiting for something. Frank knew this sort of situation well, he'd done lots of obscure schemes like this before and there was always something that could make or break your cover. He kept thinking, mind whirring, eyes whirling round the room. And then slowly, it clicked. He glanced down at Stephen, who was still observing the masses.

Would he be up for this? It was him that had suggested this whole thing, after all. Ah well, in for a penny in for a pound. Neither of them had anything to lose.

Stephen felt a hand gently take his chin and turn his face. He found himself looking straight at Frank, who was closer than he had realised. They shared one of their cute smiles, but Frank's eyes had a glint to them that suggested something more. Slowly, he drew Stephen's face closer to his own, in return bending slightly more in order to get closer. At the last second, Stephen realised what Frank was about to do. And then Frank's lips were upon his.

And it felt amazing.

His lips were unexpectedly soft and caring. Brushing lightly against Stephen's at first, before pressing harder. Stephen accidentally moaned and felt Frank smile, pushing himself further upon Stephen. Stephen turned so they were now flush against each other and ran his hands all the way up Frank's arms to twist around his neck, fingers in his hair. He was rewarded with a shiver from Frank. It was a surprisingly good kiss, tender but not wimpy, careful but not dull. However, neither was showing any intention of stopping anytime soon and Stephen could feel the kiss furthering. Tentatively, Stephen probed his tongue into Frank's mouth, meeting Frank's own immediately. They tangled together, sending shocks through their bodies. Frank's arms tightened around Stephen's waist, pulling him up and against him even more, forcing Stephen onto tiptoes. Suddenly, Frank spun them around, slamming Stephen against the wall. From before when it had been equal, it was clear who was in charge now. And Stephen found that incredibly hot. Frank grabbed Stephen's thigh and lifted it around his waist. He was supporting pretty much all of Stephen's weight now, which wasn't very much for all the muscles. Speaking of muscles, Stephen allowed himself to explore Frank's arms and chest and stomach, sliding his hands under the t-shirt that he had wanted to rip off all night. In return, he felt Frank's hands sliding up his thighs to his buttocks. Stephen nearly moaned again.

They gradually became aware of the fact that people were watching them and slowly disengaged themselves. They were both breathing heavily, pupils blown wide and hearts racing. They took a moment to fully realise what had just happened, and Frank looked surprisingly ok for what Stephen assumed to be his first gay encounter. Stephen was practically shaking. Fucking hell, that was a good kiss. In some ways, it was good, because it was fucking amazing, but in other ways, it would never happen again and had got his expectations up. Cos this was all just for show, wasn't it. All just for show.

But whatever Stephen might tell himself, these feelings blossoming inside of him, were definitely not just for show.