Art was not his strong point. Musical talent had been a gift at birth, from guitars to drums to the piano lessons he had grudgingly taken as a child. Literary talent, while being in sickening amounts in his father, had not been passed to him. Poetic talents had been more or less ignored, though he could churn out a partially decent song now and then. Artistic talent had been entirely foregone in the makeup of his DNA.

Coming to that conclusion, Jono was at a loss with what do about his painting, or lack thereof.

Looking to his right, he saw Angelo perched on the stool beside him, a virtual masterpiece on the canvas before him. Jono's eyes narrowed as he looked at the scene Angelo had painted with the representation of a day at the park. Children played baseball in the background, a man sat on the ground with a ring of squirrels around him waiting to be fed, and a young couple walked hand in hand in the foreground.

Jono looked back to his blank canvas and began to absently slap his paintbrush across it.

"That's beautiful!" One of the classmates in their art class commented as she passed, patting Angelo's shoulder and leaning down to get a better look at the picture. "It's so...so lifelike!"

"Gracias," Angelo grinned, watching her go back to her seat.

Jono's eyes narrowed further. *You never told me you were some virtuoso.*

"I used to watch Bob Ross when I was a kid." Angelo went back to the canvas. "Let's just add a dab here, mix in a little green, and put ourselves a happy, lonely little tree right here."

*Yer sick.*

Angelo grinned to himself. "I know."

Sean, who had been walking around the room to inspect his students' work, stopped behind the two boys in the class he had known the longest. He had never known either of them to show any affection towards the other that was anything but friendly, but according to that rumor going around . . .

Sean sighed, looking around to make sure the other students were grouped together to talk and goof off, then lowered himself onto a stool in front of the teens, hands resting on his knees.

"Well then. I saw yuir picture, Angelo. Nice job."

"Gracias."

Jono gave a mental snicker. *Wot about mine, sir?*

Sean blanched. "Um . . . Well, it needs a bit o' work. But not tae worry!" He quickly amended his words, smiling brightly. "We all have hidden artistic talent in us! Some of us just take longer in findin' it, that's all."

"And some of us are just complete artistic failures," Angelo jibed, receiving a kick to the calf for his efforts. It went unnoticed by their teacher.

"Just t'let ye two know, there's been a ... er... well, there's been a rumor goin' around, an' while I'm not one t'usually get involved in yuir private matters, um..." He cleared his throat, using the distraction to try to gather his thoughts. "Yuir picture's different, Jono."

*Sir?*

"Different. It's good t'be different, ye know. The world needs different things. Different accents, for example. Cockney, Irish, and Spanish. Lovely combination, don't ye think?"

Jono nodded dumbly, glancing sideways at Angelo and limiting his psi-speech. *The poor bloke's lost it.*

Angelo nodded his silent agreement. Sean, being Sean, was happily oblivious to the private conversation.

"Differences make the world go 'round, they really do. Imagine how boring the world would be if everyone stayed the same!"

Jono raised his eyebrows, again keeping his words limited to his friend. *I 'ad a nan once 'at was daft as a load o' bricks. She was on me mum's side, so I guess that'd explain it,* he shrugged, staring intently at his canvas with the purple streak across it. *We 'ad t'put 'er in one of the crazy 'omes, we did. Poor thing.*

Angelo somehow managed to contain his snickering to look at Sean with a straight face. "Not to be rude, but does this story have a point somewhere that I've missed?"

"What's that? Oh. Well," Sean sighed, realizing he couldn't dodge the subject any longer without making himself look like a bigger fool, "even though I'm personally opposed to it, I just want ye both t'know that whatever you choose to do with yuir lives is up to ye an' I'll support ye."

*Um...Thanks?* Jono looked to Angelo for help, who only shrugged.

"I know it's hard bein'...different, what with the world bein' the way it is an' all, but ye 'ave Miss Frost's support as well as mine."

*Wot...Oh. Bugger me,* Jono almost let his head slam into the canvas as it finally occurred to him just what his teacher was talking about. It hadn't yet dawned on Angelo. *'E's talkin' about the bloody Sam's thing again, Ange.*

Angelo's eyes widened. "Senor Cassidy, there's been a mistake here. See..."

"No, no, Angelo," Sean interrupted, holding up his hand to make the teen pause. "I told ye already. There's no need t'be ashamed of it. Everyone's got their own ... own ... feelings an' all. Yuirs are a wee bit unconventional, granted, but that's okay. Differences are good!"

Jono began slapping his paintbrush furiously against the canvas, making Angelo scoot nervously away from him. Sean's words completely began to melt together and stop being heard at all, and he eventually turned his picture around for Angelo to see. All the Latino could see was a flurry of green, purple, and red paint that had turned a rather sickly shade of brown.

*I'm callin' it abstraction.*

"So what I mean, lads," Sean went on, smile on his face revealing he was content with his speech, "is that ye shouldn't let the standard view o' society bring ye down. If ye two are happy together, then so be it."

"Sir, please..."

"That's all I had t'say."

*Maybe there really is a God.*

Sean paused as he stood, brow furrowed. "Ye two are bein'...ye know... safe and everything, right?"

The paintbrush went right through the canvas that time. *Then again, I could always be wrong.*

Angelo, by then knowing that nothing could change Sean's mind of what he thought was right, nodded wearily. "Si. Very safe."

Sean smiled. "That's good. Always nice t'see yuir bein' responsible adults."

*Actually, 'e's still a minor, 'least for the next few months,* Jono pointed out, jerking a thumb towards Angelo. His eyes took on a mischievous glint then. *Just outta curiosity...statutory laws apply for guys too, right?*

Sean's smile faded considerably. "Er...Aye, I suppose they do."

Jono shrugged, looking back to his shredded picture. *Just wonderin'.*

Sean walked away without so much as a second thought. That scotch cabinet was sounding rather tempting at that moment.

Staring at his picture, then at Jono's, Angelo gave a quiet sigh of defeat. "We're marked, amigo."

*Sad, ain't it?*

"What? That the rumor's going around or that everyone's believing it?"

*Both.*

"Yeah." He tossed his paintbrush into the sink several feet in front of him. "Life has a way of always kickin' us in the crotch."