disclaimer: only the plot belongs to me

Barkovitch had avoided Stebbins for most of the day, but he knew that after a while this tactic was going to stop working.

And it did. Stebbins was walking beside him again on his way to English in the afternoon. "Hello, Barkovitch."
Barkovitch didn't respond, only looking down at his feet. He'd done a shitty thing. So why was Stebbins still here? Was it some sort of masochistic response that Stebbins had to everything? Just to stick around with the wrong people?

"I said hello. Have you lost your common decency?" Stebbins giggled softly.

"Uh...hey."

"Yes, hello."

"I'm, uh...I'm sorry. For...earlier. I sort of, uh, panicked because Christ, doing new stuff is really fucking scary sometimes. It's not even that...I just..." A blush had crept onto Barkovitch's face, but he hoped that his olive skin helped hide it.

Stebbins blinked at him. "Sorry? You reacted just as I thought you'd might. What I didn't expect was an apology."

"And, I, well, I...liked it."

"That is also rather unexpected." It still puzzled Barkovitch why the other boy spoke like he was some sort of weird-ass college professor who had experimented with drugs.

"Yeah, I just wanted to say...uh...I'm sorry." Shit, this it the first time I've ever apologized and meant it, isn't it? That's just pathetic. "Friends?" He considered adding some unsure comment about the fact that he didn't really know, but decided against it.

Stebbins smiled. "As in, really, completely friends? No calling it being 'alliances' or 'not enemies?'" Barkovitch wasn't sure how to respond, and before he had a chance to, Stebbins started giving him excited kisses on every part of his face that it was possible to kiss.

"U-uh..." Barkovitch felt his face darken. "Christ, Freak, calm down." But part of him secretly enjoyed the display of affection.

"Oh, hush, you like it." Stebbins looked like his personality had somehow become made of spun sugar.

There was a loud, metallic noise as the bell rang. Barkovitch's face was still red, but he had somewhat regained his composure. "I'll walk you to your house if you'd like. But none of that stuff we did last night."

"You make it sound so terrible." Stebbins giggled and the two boys started out of the school. Barkovitch looked around to make sure there wasn't anybody like McVries watching and then wrapped an arm around Stebbins' shoulders. Christ, he wasn't in love with the freak or anything.

They were just...really good friends. Really good friends who kissed a lot.

"So, why the sudden change of attitude?"

"Huh?"

"You seemed pretty averse to all this earlier. Why are you suddenly accepting it?"

"Dunno. I guess it just...I felt bad. God, I fucking hate talking about my feelings."

Stebbins laughed. "Well, then. That's fine. Whatever the reason was, frankly, I'm glad that you changed your mind."

It felt...weird...to have someone trusting in him and showing affection towards him. He definitely wasn't the type of person who anybody usually talked to, let alone appreciated attention from. It was a good sort of weird. Huh. Stebbins was a good sort of weird, too. Life tended to be a good sort of weird, he supposed.

The walk seemed to go faster than Barkovitch had remembered, and they were silent for most of it. Stebbins occasionally made a contented little sigh, but other than that neither of them appeared to want to spoil the moment.

"Your house is old as shit. You should probably clean it."

"The inside is as clean as it can be with a house this old." Stebbins looked down at the garden, which was wrought with thorns and looked like it hadn't been tended for years. "The garden could use some help, though."

"Agreed. Uh, well, see you tomorrow, I guess."

"The same to you." Barkovitch had to lean up a little to do it, but before he could say something to stop himself he kissed Stebbins gently.

"Uh. Yeah. See you tomorrow."

Stebbins smiled and made his way through the tangled mess of the garden to the front door. He was about to grab the doorknob when it turned without any assistance, and he found himself facing his father. "Dirk."

"Hello, father." Stebbins' smile disappeared quickly, replaced by one of forced calm.

"Dirk, what was that girl you were kissing outside? You and I need to talk about it."

"You mean Barkovitch?"

His father's emotions weren't visible from behind his sunglasses, but his lips appeared to be in a none too happy expression. "That was...a boy?"

"Yes." Shit.

"Dirk, we really must talk about this. First the books, now this." The Major almost grunted out the words. "Has there been something you've been hiding from us?"

"No, not at all. Sir. I was simply saying goodbye to him. Nothing at all."

"By kissing him? What an interesting way to say goodbye to a friend. Dirk, you need to inform me about things like this."

"But, Sir. You're not around much. And I don't have to tell you anything." Stebbins found the tone of his voice rising and part of him was beginning to think that this whole thing was a really, really bad idea.

The Major glared down at him. "Don't be insolent with me."

"I wasn't being..." His father then promptly reached down and hit him. The feeling of the hand hitting his face stung more than it probably should have. "Why did you..."

"You are being insolent," The Major hissed.

Stebbins knew better than to disagree. "Yes. I was being insolent. I'm sorry."

"What do you need to add to that?" The former soldier was practically snarling at him, and before Stebbins had a chance to respond, he felt his father's fist connecting with this face.

"Sir," Stebbins squeaked. The tall man in front of him had a rather dangerous look in his eyes. Then it hit Stebbins that he was most probably drunk and his father was not someone to mess with when drunk and he should probably just run.

"Good."

Stebbins gave a quick nod and made a dash for the stairs. The Major yelled something profane and Stebbins ducked into the bathroom. Things had been going so well for him. Looking in the mirror, he realized that his father had made a bruise around his eye. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Taking out the razor, he wondered what Barkovitch would think of him right now. The cut he made was fairly large and he noticed that a bit of blood had gotten on the floor. That wasn't good. He pushed his sleeves back down and went into his mother's room, which was still empty since he presumed that she hadn't yet gotten home.

He fished around in her desk for the school directory, and then went into his room to look for his barely used cell phone. Barkovitch's number had a lot of fours in it, and while waiting for somebody to pick up he noticed that his sweater had developed a bloodstain. That wasn't good either.

After a few minutes of ringing, he decided to just leave a message. "Barkovitch, how would you feel if I ran away from home?"

"it started out cute what happened" a saga by user collie parkillo