This chapter's a little short but I have a feeling the next chapter is going to be quite long, there's a lot about to happen in one day! =S

"That was intense," was all Justin could say about the event that had unfolded that lunchtime.

"Intense," Michael agreed flatly. He was squashed in the backseat of the car with Brian and Justin as they all drove back to his house to celebrate the days events and he couldn't have felt more awkward if he'd been accidentally entered into a 'Lesbian of the Year' competition. Brian insisted there was nothing to celebrate and that, if anything, things were worse now; Hobbs was pissed at them, he didn't know how the rest of the football team were going to react and his brother Jack still hated him.

"Sweetie, you'll learn that when you're gay, you have to celebrate all victories, even the small ones," Emmett smiled. "And having an openly gay jock walking the corridors of Maple Grove High is a victory worth celebrating."

"Uh-huh, well, we'll see how well I'm 'walking the corridors' when Hobbs breaks both my legs."

"Will you cheer up," Justin berated, slapping him on the thigh. Brian forced a strained smile and Justin rolled his eyes and mocked, "good try."

::

Debbie was practically bouncing around the house when they got back. "Hello boys," she beamed. "Boy have I got a treat for you," she grinned, indicating the mountains of snacks that were already piling up in the middle of the dining table.

"Christ Deb, have you invited a small country we're not aware of?" Brian asked, picking up one of the dozens of chicken legs and looking at it like it might be poisoned.

"Asshole," Debbie said fondly.

"It looks great, Ma," Michael insisted, kissing his mom on the cheek, gently.

"Thanks baby. It isn't ready yet, so you boys go and entertain yourselves for a while and I'll call you when it's done."

"Entertain ourselves?" Brian smirked, wrapping his arms around Justin from behind.

"You pair can stay hear and enjoy our company," Emmett insisted.

"Enjoy?" Brian quirked an eyebrow, earning himself a slap on the arm from the flamboyant older boy.

"Listen you and the rest of you," he quickly addressed the rest of the group. "You have to help me and Teddy here," he slipped his arm through Ted's and rested his head, somewhat awkwardly, on the shorter boy's shoulder. "We need to decide what to do about our prom this year."

"I always forget you guys are leaving next year," Michael said, slumping into the arm chair, Brian sat on the sofa, whilst Justin opted for a bean bag. Emmett manoeuvred himself and Ted onto the rest of the sofa so they could be at the head of this meeting of 'prom-dilemma'.

"I think you should go." Justin said firmly.

"Christ," Brian muttered, "who do you think you are, Harvey Milk?"

"Why do you have such a problem with the prom?" Justin demanded.

"It's for breeders," Brian shrugged. "So that they can dress up like princes and princesses and wear corsages and pretend like their pathetic high-school romances are going to last forever. It's bullshit, and it's just an excuse for horny heteros to fuck without consequence. Something, which I certainly don't need an excuse for," he reached out a hand to touch Justin's face but the smaller boy pulled away. There was so much about that sentence that Justin couldn't stand he didn't know what to be mad about first, so he just turned away from the brunet beacon of pessimism and turned his attention instead to Emmett and Ted.

"So," he said, "are you gonna go?"

"I don't know," Ted said uncertainly. "Maybe Brian's right, maybe we don't belong there."

"Bullshit," Justin cried. "The prom's for everyone, right Deb?" He said calling to her as she rushed through the living room in the pursuit of something which would no doubt be horribly tacky to finish off the meal perfectly.

"Absolutely baby," she agreed breathlessly. "You tell 'em."

"See," Justin said smugly.

"That doesn't count," Brian protested, "she wasn't even listening."

"Why don't we all go?" Michael beamed. "We can make it a group thing."

"That's such a geek thing," Brian smirked. "Everyone knows you go to prom with a date or you're the dweep no one wanted to date."

"Wow, Bri," Ted scorned, "you always know the right thing to say."

"It's just the truth Theodore," Brian shrugged.

"I think we should go," Emmett said suddenly. "Even if we have to take Mel and Linds."

"Ah, ah, ah," Brian said in a bit of a sing-song voice. "You all know Lindsey is my fag hag, besides, everyone knows your fags, what exactly would taking Mel and Linds achieve?"

"He's got a point," Justin said, almost reluctant to agree with Brian when he was in such an opposing mood. "You either come as yourselves or you don't come at all."

Brian snorted loudly and Michael smirked too as he watched Brian unable to keep his filthy mind out of the gutter for even a second as he said, "isn't that the idea of prom? Everybody comes?"

"I was talking about attending the prom," Justin scowled.

"So was I," Brian shrugged, a smirk stretching his lips into an annoyingly attractive smile.

"Good," Justin said triumphantly. "So you agree that everyone should come to the prom, excellent. Brian and I will be there," he smiled to Emmett and Brian just hit his head dramatically on the arm of the sofa three times muttering 'kill me now' to the beat of every head bash.

The group ignored him, except Michael who smiled a little and then stammered, "w-well, if you're all going then … I may as well come too."

"Of course your coming," Brian said quickly. "Like I said, the idea of the prom is that everybody comes."

"That's the right idea Brian," Debbie laughed as she walked past with armfuls of glittery, rainbow coloured decorations. "I remember my prom, it was so hot that night." Then she hid her mouth from Michael and said loudly, "and the weather was pretty warm too."

"MA!" Michael protested, his face burning up as he tried to disappear into the armchair.

"What?" Debbie asked innocently, "I had a life before you Michael. I was young, free and single once too and I was allowed to fuck who I liked."

Michael just buried his face in his hands and Emmett shuddered overdramatically.

"Breeder sex," he cringed, "can you imagine anything worse?"

"Your mom talking about it front of your friends," Michael suggested.

"Ask Brian," Ted said suddenly, "he's done it."

"It's not so bad," Brian said honestly. "I mean, you still get off. It's just less intense, less primal," he looked to Justin purposefully, "less … hot," he said, snapping the 't' and making a shiver run down Justin spine.

"Quick, change the subject before they both suddenly decide they need to retrieve something from upstairs," Emmett gabbled.

"We could just hose them down," Ted suggested.

"Don't tempt me," Michael said and although his face said he was joking, his tone was more than a little bitter.

"So we're going to the prom?" Emmett asked, looking around at his friends excitedly.

"We're going," Michael confirmed, Justin nodded eagerly too.

"Yay! Fags to the end," Emmett beamed, putting his arm straight out so his hand was in the middle of the room as though to do some corny team cheer and Brian just raised an eyebrow.

"You're fucking kidding right?" He asked.

"Fine," Emmett scowled and then removed his hand with a lonely, belated and less than enthusiastic 'woo'.

::

By the time Debbie had to allowed them to go to the dinner table, the kitchen-dining area looked like the Liberty Avenue dumpsters the day after gay pride. There were rainbow coloured streamers everywhere, glitter scattered all over the table, and more food than any of them, even Justin, could begin to make a dent in.

"Well, my aunt Lula always says, it's not a perfectly planned party if you don't throw away a lot of food," Emmett said, peering in awe at a huge mound of profiteroles, stacked next to a precariously balanced plate of sandwiches, next to that were turkey something, pork something and beef something. They all looked pretty similar and stew-y but no one was about to mention that as they sat down and tried to work out where to begin without causing some kind of food avalanche.

"When do you think would be a good time to mention I don't feel that hungry?" Brian whispered in Justin's ear. The shorter boy chuckled and gave the brunette a quick kiss on the cheek, mainly so he could whisper without the other's hearing.

"Is the pain medication still making you bloated?"

"Mm," Brian nodded, taking one sandwich carefully, as though he were performing a high risk operation. "But not taking the medication makes me vomit from the pain so," he shrugged and smiled. Justin returned his smile sadly.

Brian was still really suffering at the hand of his father, he guessed the Kinney's moving away would probably be the best thing for him, it wouldn't be as though they'd want to take him with them anymore.

The meal went on forever, Debbie refusing to let anyone leave the table before they were full to bursting and even then she tried to force desert upon them repeating over and over again that they were celebrating. Brian didn't feel much like celebrating. He picked at his food, he barely listened to the excited chatter about the big prom stunt, he barely paid any attention to any of it. His medication was starting to wear off and he needed to go upstairs to take his tablet but he also just needed to be alone for a while. He needed to get things sorted in his head. He was out to the whole world now, there was no one left to tell. The coach would know soon enough and then he wasn't sure where his football career would stand at either Maple Grove or anywhere beyond that. Jack may have stopped him getting the shit kicked out of him by Hobbs but the look in his eyes suggested he wasn't going to stick up for Brian if any of Jack's own friends took a shine to shoving the newest fag in a locker.

He sipped his drink carefully and winced a little as the pain began to seep across his chest like a heart attack. He took another sip of his drink, half-listened to Emmett prattling on about the perfect prom suit he'd found in torso and tried to block out the fear that tomorrow, he might not be so lucky with Hobbs or any of the others.

He stood up suddenly and announced he was feeling tired and needed a lie down. Debbie let him go. Justin made to follow him but Brian just said, "alone" and the blonde nodded a little dejectedly.

Brian trudged slowly up the stairs and moved painfully into his room. He found his pills and took one before practically collapsing onto the bed. Now, he finally had chance to work through the thoughts in his muddled mind but he actually just fell asleep, the stress of the day finally taking it's toll. He only woke up again when the front door to the house slammed shut. He could hear them shouting their goodbyes and he reached wearily for his phone. He knew he should probably tell Justin he was sorry for slinking away but he didn't have it in him to apologise for something he wasn't sorry for. He needed this time, if he'd persevered with their celebrations he might just have exploded.

A quiet knock at the door, forced him to sit up. He yawned a little as he called for whoever it was to come in. He expected to see Debbie with a hot cup of cocoa but he actually saw Justin push his head around the door.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No," Brian shook his head. Then scowling a little, he added, "Emmett did, with his fond farewells."

"Ah, well you know Emmett, he can't do anything quietly."

"Mmm."

"Are you okay?" Justin asked, pushing the door open and walking in a few paces.

"I'll survive," Brian said honestly, though he was beginning to wonder if there was anything he wouldn't survive. He'd certainly felt like he'd lived through more than his fair share of bullshit.

"You always do," Justin smiled, "beautifully, I might add."

Brian thought of his beat up, battered and bruised body when he'd woken up in hospital a few weeks ago. "Well, there's no accounting for taste," he mumbled. And with a smirk he added, "I'd like to present Debbie Novotny as exhibit A for that argument. I've never seen so much tack in one place."

Justin chuckled a little through his nose and closed the distance between them so he could perch on his bed.

"I know it's shit right now," he said seriously. "But it'll get better, I promise."

"You can remind me of this tomorrow evening when some jock's tried to shove me in a fucking toilet."

"That might not happen. But if it does, I'll be there to crowbar you back out again."

"Aren't you a sweetheart," Brian scorned.

"What can I say, I love you."

Brian pulled a strained sort of expression and his eyes dropped to his lap like he'd done something wrong or felt guilty.

"It's okay," Justin continued, "I don't expect you to say it back, I just want you to know. And, I know you love me too," he grinned, "because you wouldn't have agreed to go to prom if you didn't."

Brian rolled his eyes a little and Justin chuckled. "I'm beginning to feel like I'm talking to a mime."Brian mimed getting his brains blown out by a shot gun and Justin just shook his head and held Brian's face softly, running his thumb gently over the faded-yellow bruise just under his right eye.

"You look really tired, I'm going to let you sleep." He pressed his lips to Brian's forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Brian nodded, before rolling onto his pillow and allowing his eyes to close again. They didn't stay closed.

He tossed and turned all night, images of Hobbs and Jack running through his head, dreams of him getting stuffed in a locked, dreams of people pushing a match through the vent. He knew it was a dream but he still felt hot, he felt like he couldn't breath as the thick smoke flooded his lungs, drowning him. He gasped in oxygen, screaming for help but as he tried to peer out of the vents he saw the entire football team shrugging as though they'd care more if it were a cat screaming for it's life … and perhaps they would.

Brian woke up and went back to the same dream three times that night and when he rolled down to breakfast the next morning, the ever subtle Debbie Novotny announced he looked 'fucking awful'.

"Thanks Deb," he scorned, sitting down and picking mindlessly at his cereal.

"Are you okay?" Michael whispered, "you look like you hardly slept."

"That's probably because I hardly slept," Brian said, allowing his spoon to fall into his bowl and splash milk over nearby table.

"Was the bed comfy enough?"

"The bed was fine, perfect even. I just couldn't settle down." He wasn't going to tell Michael that a nightmare had kept him up. Nightmares were for kids and even then, his parents never gave a shit. The only person who'd help him out was his brother Jack and that was usually because the boys were all sharing a room. He sighed as he imagined that telling Jack about last night's nightmare would probably be step one towards making it a reality.