You know when you say words over and over again, so much so that they start to sound funny and lose all meaning. Well, Stephen was pretty sure that's what had happened with the mantra he had been mentally chanting all week which consisted mainly of

"He's Frank Grayson. This is Frank Grayson you're thinking about. Frank Grayson. Frank fucking Grayson."

He was internally repeating this as he marched down the school corridor on a Friday morning. He didn't know how he was going to manage seeing him again at work, and try and carry on as if nothing had happened. He guessed it was time to bring out those acting skills. It was just so weird how barely even a month ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about Frank Grayson – he had always been that big, bad bully that Stephen just steered well clear of – but now? Stephen wasn't sure about anything anymore.

He was so caught up in this inner torment that he didn't notice everyone else shifting to the sides of the corridor in sudden, nervous movements, or the hushed tone that had overtaken the entire area. In fact, it was only a harsh bump into something – someone – that knocked him back into reality.

"Oh, sorry babes." Stephen muttered, glancing up at the offending party.

To find the one and only Frank Grayson.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Well speak - or think or whatever - of the devil and he shall appear.

And Fra – Grayson – was definitely the devil.

What is it they always say… something about a devil? Gah, whatever. Basically Frank should have known this was gonna happen with the amount that he had been thinking about freaking Carmichael. It was inevitable. He sighed, not knowing what to do – whether he should act tough and distant for his reputation or acknowledge the fact that Carmichael and he had something going on. Not anything like that nah mate haha hahahahah no. But just. Something. Cos it was something. Right?

A tense silence hovered; people in the corridor literally completely stopping.

Stephen froze, not knowing how Grayson was gonna react. Seriously, that boy was highly unstable. Probably safer to let him take the lead. Like Stephen knew in his mind that he was gonna act all tough and rude and shit… but maybe, just maybe, he might consider actually being a decent person? For once? And you know accepting that there was something different about them now? Maybe even demonstrating that something by… no let's not get carried away.

Frank sighed inwardly, then snarled; he had committed himself to this image so he really had no other choice.

He took a deep breath, allowing the cold to take over, turning his eyes to sheens of glass and his emotions to ice, shutting him down.

"You're in my way… faggot."

Frank hated himself just a little bit more with every word he spoke.

Of course. No. Stephen shouldn't have expected anything else. Hah. He was kidding himself to think that Grayson was anything other than a despicable, immature bully.

He was about to relent and step aside, when he felt something spark inside of him, like an angry flame.

Grayson wouldn't actually dare carry through his horrific acts towards Stephen… would he? For all his bravado, he couldn't look Stephen in the eyes and treat him like just another of his Year 7 pickings. Not now? Surely. Come on… Stephen just needed to prove that there was something… ANYTHING, that made Grayson look at him differently to everyone else. For the sake of his own sanity.

Stephen took a deep breath, focusing on this spark and letting it heat up his whole body, lighting flames in his eyes and setting fire to his emotions, driving him forwards.

"Maybe you're in mine."

Frank's eyes shot wide open. What the fuck did he think he was doing? He had gotten cocky from all those arguments at work, but here Frank could stand up to Stephen properly, you know. Without fear of getting sacked. This was his territory. His realm. His rule.

"Watch it, gayboy." He hissed. "Wouldn't want to step out of line now would we?"

"Honey, I think I penetrated that line a long time ago."

Frank felt his face flush, even if he wasn't entirely sure what Stephen was implying. This wouldn't do.

He grabbed Carmichael's shoulders and slammed his body against the lockers.

People were really staring now.

Ouch… That hurt… Stephen complained. Focus on the fire. Look him in the eyes.

"If you wanted to play rough, sugar, all you had to do was ask."

"The fuck are you trynna say, Glee?"

Ah. Now here was the problem. Stephen wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to say. Things were just coming out of his mouth and he couldn't stop them.

And it felt...

Amazing.

Was it strange that the one person he really should be terrified of was the one person that gave him the most confidence?

"Whatever you want me to be saying, baby."

Stephen raised one eyebrow. Frank glared.

"I want you to shut the fuck up. How about that?"

"Hmmm… not what you said last night."

Stephen received another shove into the lockers for that, but it was worth it.

Seriously, what the fuck was this poof doing? When did he get so freaking full of himself… and, and so confident. And so… dominant? It was almost… attractive?

But this couldn't go on and there was no way for it to end; neither would be willing to back down and there was no way that Frank could beat him up.

So he leant really close and whispered into Stephen's ear

"Look scared at what I'm saying to you." They had to keep up the act. "Now tell me what the actual freaking helling fuck do you think you are fucking doing?"

"I dunno." Stephen played along, looking scared and everything; after all, he did love a good show, but allowed his whisper to carry confidence.

"You dunno… You dunno! Do you have any idea how much of an impact this could have on my street cred? Did you even consider that? Or is everything just fun and games to you, up in fairyland?! You better fucking back down right now or I swear to God I will… I will…"

"What? What will you do? There's nothing you can do. Because you can't look me in the eyes and beat me up like all those other poor people you do that to. Because I actually fucking mean something to you now. Admit it."

Stephen blurted in desperate whispers before coming to a halt, realising what he just said.

There was a shocked pause from the both of them in which they became aware of their heavy breathing and the heavy tension. Adding to this were the weighing stares piling on from spectators.

And this was what reminded Frank that he had a part to play and lies to tell.

"I will admit nothing. Nothing's changed between us. You mean nothing to me." You big-headed, arrogant, beautiful twat.

Stephen just shrugged, even though that stung like a bitch. Now he just had to find a way to end this, preferably favouring him. And then it struck him.

"Whatever. Either way, you're gonna let this go, or I will out you to all your 'friends' and that will be the end of all the street cred you've ever had."

"And how do you expect to do that?" Frank sneered.

"Kiss you."

Frank nearly spluttered.

"What?"

"I'll kiss you and then you can see how everyone takes it that bully Grayson is actually Queen Stephen's toy-boy."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

To prove his point, Stephen leant in just a little bit. Just to prove his point. Nothing else… Nothing. Cough.

Frank literally had to force himself away in a jerked jump to keep from mirroring him.

"Whatever." He announced, coming out of their hushed tones. "Try that again dickhead and you're dead meat."

For effect, he shunted Stephen once again into the lockers before storming off.

Stephen tugged his jacket back on properly, allowing himself only the smallest victory smile as he strolled off to class.

Man, he could not wait for Saturday.