Disc: I don't own it, please don't sue me
Warnings: slash, don't like it? Don't read it. Rated for sexual situations, swearing and mentions of child abuse
a/ns: thanks to everyone who reviewed, I was super pleased that you all liked it so much. There's three parts in total, but two and three are pretty long…enjoy!
"When you touch me, I feel there's nothing you can do to turn me away" -Texas, I'll See It Through
"Good Morning Sky High! Welcome to another bright morning with sunny skies and steaming temperatures. And as we are reaching the end of our final semester let me be the first to remind you that tickets for the Senior Prom go on sale today! This year we have a Fairytale theme, so dig out those wings and get ready to party. With only one week till the big bash, we expect you to be preparing every second! And now onto the morning announcements. Whoever rigged the sprinklers yesterday, Principal Powers would like to see you in her office asap. She says she knows who you are. Tomorrow the Fantastic Flyers will be putting on a presentation in the gym…"
Warren Peace glared up at the speaker on the wall of his homeroom and resisted a very strong urge to throw a fireball at it. Thank God he only had another month of this place
He hated it here. He hated pretending to be something he wasn't. He hated 'Hero' classes. He hated the hypocrisy of the students. He hated their smug faces, the way they all thought they were so much better than him.
But most of all, he hated that fucking speaker.
Prom in one week (not like he'd be going) followed by finals in two then graduation week. One more month, then he was free. Free to do whatever the fuck he wanted.
Free to get away.
At his locker, Warren pulled out the slightly crumpled letter that he'd been reading every day for the past six weeks.
Congratulations Mr Peace, and welcome to Clark Kent Academy of San Diego, California. We are delighted to offer you a place at our prestigious academic programme after reviewing your application and look forward to seeing you in the Fall. As you know, we are very selective about our candidates…
No one even knew he'd applied. Not his mom, his teachers, no one.
He honestly didn't think he would get in. Kent Academy was the Ivy League of Super schools. But they didn't just focus on your powers, as far as they were concerned that was what High School was for. They taught you real things, useful things, things that you might actually want to know. A qualification from Kent was like a qualification made of gold. It could get you anywhere.
And Warren had got a place.
The only problem was money.
He had applied for the scholarship programme, but was still waiting to hear from the review board. Without a scholarship there was no way he could afford to go. His mom didn't have that kind of money. His dad was out of the question. Even after working at the Paper Lantern for close to four years, it wouldn't pay for his entire tuition, and then there were living expenses, the dorms, bills.
He smoothed his hands over the acceptance letter, then slipped it carefully back into his locker.
One month. One month and he could be getting ready to go to California. He would never have to walk these halls again. He would never have to be put in Solitary again for losing his temper. He would never have to put his mom to bed again after she'd had a little too much to drink. He would never have to see Will Stronghold again.
It had been three years since Warren had made the decision to cut Will out of his life for good, and in those years they had barely spoken.
Will had tried of course, oh how Will had tried. He had almost worn Warren down. Almost.
Eventually he'd given up, stopped calling so often, stopped leaving notes in Warren's locker, stopped sitting with him in the cafeteria and stopped trying to corner him between classes.
And after three years, Warren no longer noticed the way Will didn't say hello, or didn't forget books anymore and try and steal Warren's, or stick up for Warren in an unfair fight.
It was just how it had been before.
Principal Powers wanted to see him in her office.
Warren glanced at his watch and sighed.
He supposed he'd be missing lunch again. Not that it seemed to matter these days. Over the last month or so, Warren's appetite had decreased rapidly. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but his slim frame was now the wrong side of skinny, his pants and t-shirts hanging off him instead of hugging his figure.
He scowled as he trudged towards Power's office. What had he done this time?
"Warren, please come in, have a seat."
Powers smiled at him as she answered the door, a clear sign that something wasn't right. Powers hated him. She never smiled.
"So, Warren. School's almost over. How you feeling?"
Warren shrugged.
Powers smiled and nodded as if this was perfectly acceptable.
"Warren, the reason I've called you in here is I'm a little concerned about you."
Warren felt himself automatically tensing.
"You don't seem to have a plan for after Graduation. Your classmates are all going to wonderful schools all over the country. Don't you want to go to college Warren?"
Warren thought of the Kent acceptance letter. He shrugged.
"It's not too late, you can still apply for late entry. And your grades are very good, your attendance and behaviour improved dramatically over the last three years. I'm sure you'll have no problem finding a school."
Warren chewed his lips thoughtfully.
"I would hate to see you throw away your future because you don't think you can do it. College is a very important experience, and with a degree you could go far. You're very bright-"
"Principal Powers."
She looked surprised that he'd interrupted her. Or perhaps just that he'd been listening.
"I appreciate you trying to help, but spare me the lecture. I don't need to apply late to any colleges."
Powers opened her mouth to disagree.
"Because I've already got a place."
She blinked.
"You…have?"
He nodded.
"At Clark Kent Academy."
He really wanted to cherish the look on her face.
"Clark Kent Academy? That's…that's amazing! My goodness. We had several students apply, but none actually got in! I'm speechless."
Warren couldn't help but smile in the face of her enthusiasm.
"Thanks. I haven't told anyone yet, not even my mom. I would appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself."
"But don't you want to share your good news?"
Warren stared determinedly over her shoulder.
"I may not actually be going. I don't have the money."
He made the mistake of looking at her then. He couldn't escape the flash of pity in her eyes.
"I'm sure we can work it out. There are scholarship programmes-"
"I know. I've applied. I'm waiting to hear back from the review board. I just don't want to get my mom's hopes up."
She nodded.
"Of course. I'll be discreet. But I want you to know I'm extremely proud."
Warren ducked his head. He wasn't used to praise from a teacher.
Powers was still looking at him.
"Is everything okay at home, Warren?"
He felt his shoulders stiffen.
"Everything's fine."
"It's just you seem so tired lately, and you've lost so much weight. You seem to be getting into a lot of fights."
Warren clenched his fist to stop himself raising a hand to his bruised ribs. He'd fallen against the kitchen table.
"Everything's fine."
She watched him for a second longer, then nodded.
"Okay, if you say so. But if you do need to talk, my office door is always open."
Warren nodded awkwardly, getting up from his chair and heading to the door.
"Oh, and Warren?"
He looked back from the hallway.
"Congratulations."
Looking back, it had happened so gradually that he hadn't even noticed. Unbelievable, wasn't it? That he hadn't noticed his own mother was becoming an alcoholic. That his home eventually became somewhere he was afraid to spend too much time. That he had become a human punch bag.
Warren worked himself into the ground these days. In addition to his job at the Paper Lantern he also worked at a local supermarket, stacking shelves. He liked to take the overnight shifts there, which meant he could go straight to school from work and then onto the Paper Lantern after school.
Sometimes he could even avoid going home altogether.
Of course, the longer he stayed away the worse it was when he got back. Without him there, his mother would become even more uncontrollable than usual.
Last night had been one of those times.
Yet still he made excuses for her.
She hadn't meant to slam him against the table so hard. She hadn't meant to hurt him.
He knew he would keep making excuses for her. Because he loved her, and he'd already lost one parent. He couldn't bear to lose two.
Warren had been successfully hiding his less than perfect home life for three years. He wasn't about to let anyone find out now. Not when he was so close to getting away forever.
Unfortunately for Warren, today was not his day.
He was walking towards the men's bathrooms when a sophomore dashed past him, accidentally pushing him into the bank of lockers on his left, hitting his bruised ribs with the hard, solid metal.
He let out a cry before he could stop himself, sagging against the lockers, his hands pressing protectively at his ribs, which flared with white hot pain.
Shit. He blinked dizzily, trying to fight the pain, to get control, but the pain was almost blinding.
There was a hand on his elbow, a murmur of "Fuck, Warren." in his ear, and he was being supported, half dragged and half carried out of the hallway, into the men's bathrooms.
Drawing a ragged breath, Warren pushed Will Stronghold away with what little strength he had.
"Get the hell away from me."
Will ignored him and stepped closer, reaching out to steady him.
"You should sit down."
"Didn't you hear me? Fuck. Off."
"You look as if you're about to pass out. Sit down."
Warren glared at him, and Will glared right back.
With a sigh, Warren sank onto the bench in the corner.
"Satisfied?"
Will didn't reply, sitting beside him on the bench.
"What happened?"
Warren shrugged sullenly.
"How did you damage your ribs?"
"None of your fucking business."
Will sighed loudly.
"Stop being such an asshole. I'm trying to help you."
"I don't need your help."
"You need someone's help! Jesus Warren, the last few weeks you've looked as if your about to fall asleep on your feet. You're not eating, you're covered in bruises and now this! What the hell is going on?"
Warren smiled bitterly.
"How nice to have my very own guardian angel looking out for me. Thanks, but no thanks."
He made to stand, but Will clamped a hand over his shoulder, preventing him from moving.
"I'm worried about you," he said quietly.
It had been a long, long time since Warren had heard Will speak to him like that, in that soft, concerned voice.
Will had a way, sometimes, of making you feel like you were the only person in the world. That if he could just make this right, if he could just help you and make you happy, then there would never be any problems again.
It had been too long since he had heard Will speak to him like that, and for a second he wanted to tell him everything and he wanted Will to promise him they would make it alright together.
He sneered.
"Whatever, Golden Boy. I assure you I don't need your pity."
"I didn't say I pitied you," Will snapped. "I said I was worried about you."
"It all amounts to the same thing. Don't you have some fawning admirers to attend to?"
Will stared at him for a long moment.
"I guess it's gone," he said finally.
Warren frowned.
"What?"
"That little bit of you that was even remotely like the person I used to care about." He smiled sadly. "I can see when I'm wasting my time."
As he stood up, he brushed his fingers very gently across Warren's bruised ribs. Warren watched him walk through the door, the skin on the left side of his chest tingling slightly.
When he lifted up his shirt, the bruising had faded slightly.
Warren slammed his backpack onto the table, hard, and when it didn't make a satisfyingly loud enough sound, he threw the empty wine glass sitting on the table at the wall.
"Fuck!"
The glass shattered onto the stained linoleum, and Warren suck back against the refrigerator, defeated.
He'd lost his job. That asshole at the supermarket had fired him for knocking over a pallet of sugar. Stupid, stupid thing to do. The fucking sugar packs had split all over the floor. Warren had been too tired to realise the pallet wasn't on the lift properly. It was a stupid mistake he could have prevented.
"Fuck," he said again, softer this time, closing his eyes as a wave of exhaustion hit him. He just wanted to sleep.
"Warren? What the hell is going on? Why aren't you at work?"
He opened an eye to see his mother in her dressing gown, ever present glass in hand. Tonight the poison of choice seemed to be vodka.
"Hey mom."
"Jesus, you're making a fucking racket down here."
Warren smiled bitterly.
"Interrupting your drinking?"
"Don't talk to me like that. And why are you here?"
Warren stood, moving towards the cupboard under the sink to find the dustpan and brush.
"I live here, remember?"
"Don't be a smart ass," his mother snapped. "Why aren't you at work?"
Warren shrugged, bending down to sweep up the pieces of glass.
"Got fired."
For a long moment there was silence, the methodical sweeping of the brush the only sound in the room.
Warren honestly wasn't expecting the blow, though by now he knew he should have gotten used to keeping his guard up.
His head snapped forward, his forehead colliding with the cupboard door, and he swore at the pain, his vision blacking for a second.
"Don't you talk like that in front of me!"
She grabbed the back of his shirt, hurling him backwards and her foot connected with his already damaged ribs.
"You little shit! You're just like your father!"
He let out a strangled cry as she kicked him again, struggling free to curl himself into a protective ball, painfully aware that this only exposed his spine.
Her foot landed there next, at the very base, and the reflex made him uncurl. He tried rolling away, under the table, but she grabbed his arm, dragging him back across the glass littered floor, the tiny shards cutting into his back, through his t-shirt.
"Mom, stop!"
"You're just like him! Just like him!"
She smacked him hard across the face, and he blinked woozily, his head connecting with the floor when she backhanded him the other way.
He was about to pass out.
Shit, no, stay awake.
It had never been this bad before, she had never been this out of control.
"Mom," he gasped. "Please."
She hit him again, and again, and he could no longer hold the darkness back.
When Warren woke, his vision was funny and his head was pounding,
He pulled himself to a sitting position, struggling against sharp pain in his ribs and back, and stumbled to the door, opening the latch with shaking fingers, aware that she could come back any second.
He slid the door closed behind him, making as little noise as possible, and half ran, half limped down the street until his ribs burned and he had to rest.
Where was he going to go?
He had a feeling he might need a hospital, but he would be dammed if he'd go and answer all their fucking questions with their fucking social workers.
His throat was raw, and he rubbed it, shivering even though it wasn't a cold night.
What was he going to do?
He walked for a while, until he found himself in the one place he knew he definitely shouldn't be.
It still feels right coming here, he realised, as he approached the white door. Even after all these years.
He only hesitated a second before he knocked, unaware of the slight red smear he'd left on the pristine paint.
"Oh my God, Warren?"
He barely registered the horrified look on Josie Stronghold's face before he pitched forward into her arms, unconscious for the second time that night.
Will sat at the table, head in his hands, as he waited for his mom to come back down.
He couldn't get the image of Warren like that out of his head; limp in his mom's arms, hands covered in blood, face swollen beyond recognition.
He'd looked dead.
Will bit his lip, staring determinedly at the table top.
What had happened? Had Warren gotten into a fight? And why had he come here? Where was his mom? Did she even know?
He almost reached for the phone to call her, but then changed his mind. He would find out what happened first, no point in scaring her half to death before he could even tell her what was going on.
He heard his mom and dad coming down the stairs, and raised his head quickly as they came into the kitchen.
"How is he?"
"He's awake," Josie replied. "But he won't tell us what happened."
"He's in a bad way, son," his dad said. "Your mom thinks one of his ribs may be broken."
"I can try and fix that," Will said.
His mom nodded, her smile sad.
"I'm sure you can sweetie. Why don't you go up and talk to him? See if you can find out anything?"
Will nodded and swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. He thought back to the way Warren had reacted when he'd tried to help him in the bathroom that day. He doubted very much Warren would tell him anything.
He pushed the door to the guest room open quietly, and for a moment thought Warren was asleep, but when he moved his head Will realised that his left eye was swollen shut.
"Hey."
"Hey," Warren rasped.
Will's eyes fell to his throat, to the necklace of finger like bruises there.
He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, suddenly afraid to go any closer.
The whole of the left side of Warren's face was purple and swollen, the right red and inflamed. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and Will could see the skin on his chest was already purpling, under the bandages his mom had put there.
His hands were covered in tiny red cuts, his lower arms too.
"What happened?" Will asked.
Warren tried to smile, but only winced in pain.
"I guess she did a real number on me." His voice was scratchy, raw. "I was only conscious for the first act."
"Who?" Will's voice shook slightly, and he swallowed.
Warren looked at him through his right eye.
"Who do you think?" he asked softly.
It took Will a very long moment to understand what he meant.
"Your mom did this to you?"
"No," Warren said, and for a moment his voice was stronger. "That fucking thing she turns into when she drinks did this," he finished, the strength gone.
Will bit his lip, then came forward, standing at the edge of the bed.
"I can help with the pain?" he offered gently.
"Can you?" Warren asked, and Will knew he wasn't talking about the physical pain.
He sat on the edge of the bed.
"Hold still," he whispered. "Sometimes it tingles."
He pressed his right hand very gently over Warren's broken rib, closing his eyes as he tried to feel the break, tried to visualise the pieces mending, felt the still unfamiliar rush tingling through his arm and hand.
He had never tried to mend a broken bone before, and only hoped that he had enough experience and skill to pull it off, because he knew without a doubt that Warren would rather die than go to a hospital.
Beneath him, Warren gasped and stiffened, and Will pressed a little harder, willing the bone to mend.
When he opened his eyes, Warren was staring hard at him with his good eye.
"I don't know you could heal," he said.
"It's only recent. And I'm not very good at it. I couldn't…before." Before, when we were friends, didn't need to be said.
"In the bathroom…"
"You were in pain. Hold still."
He cupped the right side of Warren's face in his hand, realising, suddenly, that the only other time he had done this had been three years ago, at his kitchen table, when Warren had kissed him.
When he pulled his hand away, Warren's face was a little less purple and swollen. He couldn't make the injury go away altogether, he wasn't that practised yet.
He let his hand drift across Warren's throat, something that took less concentration, then surveyed him carefully.
"Anywhere else?"
For a moment Warren didn't reply.
"My back," he said finally. "The base of my spine. She…kicked me."
Will nodded, keeping his face impassive. Warren rolled slowly over, and Will bit his lip at the red bruise which blossomed above Warren's pants. There were a few fine cuts dotted around his back.
He pressed his hand against the bruise, feeling the skin warm beneath his finger tips.
After Warren had turned back over, Will reached out and caught his hands, running his fingers over the cuts.
"How did you get these?"
Warren looked uncomfortable.
"There was broken glass on the floor. I guess I must have pushed against it. I don't really remember."
He bit his lips suddenly and turned his face away.
Will dropped his hand and stood up.
"I'll get you a glass of water," he said, recognising the sign of tears, and knowing Warren wouldn't want him to see.
Outside the room he leant against the wall and closed his eyes, suddenly fighting his own tears.
He waited five minutes before coming back into the room with the water, where Warren was now staring blankly out of the window.
"Here."
He accepted the water, but only managed a few sips.
Will sat on the edge of the bed.
"What happened?"
Warren didn't look at him.
"I lost my job at the supermarket. She was smashed. Got mad. End of story."
Will twisted his hand in the bedcovers, trying to hold back his anger.
"This happen before?"
"Not like this. I didn't think she was going to stop."
He looked so tired, so afraid, that Will leant forward, taking his face gently in his hands and just looked at him.
Warren looked right back, and when Will kissed him he kissed right back too.
Will felt a dry sob against his lips and kissed him harder, tried to kiss the pain away, and Warren clung to him with a neediness that Will had never even imagined him having before.
"Don't leave me," he rasped, and Will lay back on the bed with him, holding him close, with no intention of leaving whatsoever.
Will awoke with the sun in his eyes, Warren's head on his chest.
He stayed very still for a few moments, his fingers threaded through Warren's matted hair, remembering Warren's words from the night before.
"I've already lost one parent, I'm not about to lose two."
They'd both woken in the early hours, and Will had whispered that Warren couldn't go back, he couldn't go home, that he had to tell someone.
"I've already lost one parent, I'm not about to lose two."
As Will lay there now, he promised himself silently that he wouldn't lose Warren. Not after three years of being without him. Not after he'd almost lost him once.
He wouldn't let it happen.
He carefully disentangled himself from Warren's warmth, slipping quietly out of the door so as not to wake him.
Downstairs, his mom was up and cooking breakfast, the comforting sizzle of pancakes filling the air.
"Hey sweetie."
"I've missed the bus. Why didn't you wake me?"
She smiled as she set a stack of pancakes on the table for him.
"When I went upstairs you both looked so peaceful. I figured missing one day wouldn't kill you. And I thought you might need some time. Together."
Will froze in his seat at the implication of her words, eyes wide.
"Mom…"
"It's okay, sweetheart. We'll talk about it later, when all of this has blown over. But I want you to know, I love you no matter what."
Will bit his lip and nodded.
"Thanks. And, uh, maybe you could not mention this to dad right now."
His mom held both her hands up.
"Oh, I'm not touching that one."
Will smiled and reached for his fork.
"Is Warren awake?"
He shook his head.
"Not yet," he replied through his mouthful.
His mother frowned at him.
"Don't talk with your mouthful."
"Don't ask me when questions me when I'm eating," he muttered.
She laughed and shook her head.
"You're impossible."
She hesitated, and Will swallowed his mouthful, suddenly nervous.
"Did you find out what happened?"
Will chewed his bottom lip.
"I, um, he wasn't entirely sure. You know, he was, uh, disorientated, and, um, yeah, he just wasn't sure."
His mother raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
"He has no idea who did this to him? Where it even happened?"
Will shrugged, trying not to look like he was lying.
"I don't think so."
She stopped what she was doing and came to sit opposite him at the table.
"Will, if Warren's trying to protect someone, you have to tell me. What happened to him was a crime, and it needs to be dealt with."
Will sighed.
"Mom, he doesn't know what happened okay? Just leave it."
"I will not leave it! Christ, Will. The kid was almost beaten to death."
"Don't you think you're exaggerating a little?"
His mother watched him squarely from over the table.
"All I know is if it was you, I would do everything in my power to bring to justice whoever had hurt you. No matter the cost."
Will closed his eyes.
"It's not that simple, mom."
"Isn't it? Tell me something Will. Why hasn't Warren's mother been around? Why haven't I received a frantic phone call demanding to know if her son's alive?"
Will avoided her eyes.
"She's out of town. I tried calling, but there was no answer at the number she left."
"Don't lie to me."
Will swallowed.
"Did Warren's mother do this to him?"
"Mom-"
"Will, you have to tell me the truth."
"I've already lost one parent, I'm not about to lose two."
He shook his head.
"I can't."
"Don't you understand how important this is?" She reached across the table to take his hand. "Will, we are dealing with child abuse here. It is a crime. If she has been hurting him, it's not safe for him to go back."
He yanked his hand away.
"It's not like that."
"Isn't it?"
Will bit his lip.
"He doesn't want to lose her," he whispered.
"Does he want to lose his life?"
He glared at her.
"Don't say that!"
She looked so sad.
"It could happen, if he goes back to her."
Will closed his eyes, tears burning behind the lids. His mom came around the table, putting her arms around him and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the comfort of her perfume.
"I'm afraid for him," he whispered.
"Me too, sweetheart. Me too."
When Warren awoke, Will was standing over him with a plate of pancakes.
He blinked blearily.
"Is it morning?"
"More like afternoon. Here."
Will held out the stack of pancakes as he struggled to a sitting position.
He picked up the fork and dug out a mouthful, but didn't eat.
"You need to eat," Will said quietly.
"Did you tell her?"
Will's guilty look was answer enough.
"God dammit."
"I had to."
"No Will, you fucking didn't."
"Yes I fucking did!"
Will swallowed, then continued more quietly.
"I am not going to sit back and let you be hurt by her."
"She's my mother."
"Yeah," Will agreed. "And she also broke your ribs."
Warren closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear this.
"I just want to be on my own right now."
"No."
Warren's eyes flew open.
"No?"
"You're not shutting me out. Not again."
Warren scoffed.
"Why? Because you care so much about me?"
"Yes," Will replied simply.
Warren shook his head.
"Take it from me, get out while you can."
"Will you fucking stop? I am in love with you. I've waited for three fucking years. You think I'm just going to walk away now?"
Warren stared determinedly out of the window.
"Fine," Will snapped. "You want to be an asshole? Go right ahead. But I'm not going anywhere. And I'll be damned if I'm about to let you go home. Eat your fucking pancakes."
He slammed the door as he left.
Warren glared at his pancakes for a long moment, then raised his forkful to his mouth.
When he emerged twenty minutes later, the plate in his hand was empty. He went down to the kitchen, hesitating in the doorway as he saw Mrs Stronghold with her hand on Will's shoulder. Their backs were to him, Will's head bent low.
"It'll be okay," Mrs Stronghold murmured.
Warren cleared his throat, and Will's head snapped up, eyes jumping towards the doorway.
"Hey," Warren murmured.
Mrs Stronghold smiled.
"Good to see you up, Warren. How you feeling?"
"Like hell," he replied. "Sorry. Got any Advil? My head is, uh, kind of sore."
"Sure thing." She poured him a glass of juice and pulled a box of pills out of one of the cupboards, popping two into her hand. "There."
"Thanks."
He sat gingerly at the table, feeling Will's eyes on him.
Mrs Stronghold seemed to sense the tense atmosphere.
"I, ah, think I'll go check the mailbox."
Will waited until she'd left the room before remarking, "The mail came two hours ago."
Warren smiled.
"I'm sorry," he said.
Will shrugged.
"I can't exactly blame you."
"You're right. I can't go back."
Will nodded calmly, as if he'd been expecting it.
"You can stay here."
"Did you mean what you said before?"
Will raised a questioning eyebrow.
Warren swallowed.
"About waiting for me…" He coughed. "Loving me."
Will looked at him coolly.
"Why do you think I never dated through high school?"
"'Cause no one knew you were gay?"
He smiled.
"People knew. Some people. But I didn't want them."
Warren stared at the table top for a few seconds.
"This conversation is in danger of becoming remarkably sappy."
Will laughed outright at that.
"Maybe we should, um, stop talking."
"The idea has merit."
Will laughed again, then crossed the room and kissed him.
Warren sighed against his lips.
"Fuck," he murmured. "How come I did everything I could to push you away yet you're still kissing me?"
"You're stuck with me," Will said seriously. "Sorry."
"Not as sorry as I am."
Will's laughter turned suddenly serious.
"You're not going back."
"No, I'm not."
He though sadly of the last image he had of his mother, her hand meeting his face in a bone cracking slap.
How could he go back to that?
Warren was expecting school the next day to be hell, but surprisingly it wasn't that bad.
Of course it helped that Will had re inserted himself as Warren's 'best friend' (though Warren wasn't exactly sure what they were anymore) and glared at anyone who tried to ask Warren about his still swollen face.
When Will guided Warren over to his cafeteria table at lunch time and plonked his tray down as if it had been three days, not three years, since they last sat together, his friends stared at them in amazement.
"Um, Will?" Layla murmured. "Warren Peace is sitting with us."
"I have ears," Warren snapped.
He saw Will shoot Layla a small glare.
"Warren's sitting with us today."
There was a long silence.
"Did anyone catch that movie last night? The one about the mad scientist and his death lab? Was it just me, or did that scientist kind of remind you of Medulla?"
Magenta laughed, and Warren nodded gratefully at Zach for shifting the focus away from him.
By the end of the day, Warren had almost relaxed and he was laughing at a story Will was telling him involving a freeze ray, the mad science lab, and Penny Aylya's rather short skirt.
Will unlocked his front door, led the way into the kitchen and Warren's laughter died in his throat.
Sitting at the Stronghold's kitchen table was his mother.
"Hello Warren."
Warren didn't reply, unconsciously moving closer to Will.
Mrs Stronghold stepped forward, between Warren and his mother, and smiled tensely.
"How was school boys?"
Warren stared at her in disbelief. The woman who had beaten him to a bloody pulp two days ago was sitting at the table, and she was asking them how school was?
"Mom," Will said softly.
"It's okay. Warren's mom just wants to talk to him."
"Hell no."
Warren took a step back.
"I don't want to talk to you."
His mom stood.
"Warren, sweetheart, please."
"Don't."
His mom stopped moving.
"Just let me-"
"Explain? You don't need to. I was there, remember? Or maybe you don't remember. Exactly how much had you had?"
"That's enough."
His mom shot a nervous glance at Mrs Stronghold.
"We're going home."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
His mom frowned.
"I said that's enough. We're leaving."
She strode forward suddenly, grabbing his arm.
"Don't touch me!"
"You are my son. You will do as I say."
Her fingers bit into his arm, her nails sharp and cutting as Warren twisted in her grasp.
"Let him go!"
He felt Will yanking them apart, the force sending him crashing into the counter top, pain shooting through his not quite healed ribs.
"Warren!"
Will's arms were around him, trying to pull him to his feet, and he leant into him, burying his face in Will's shoulder, dizzily grateful for the support.
There was a long silence in the room.
"Jesus, Warren. And I thought you couldn't get any worse."
He slowly raised his head to meet her bloodshot eyes. He couldn't believe she'd had a drink before coming here.
"Not only are you a fucking juvenile delinquent, but a fag too?"
He felt Will wince at her words, but he remained calm, meeting her accusing gaze determinedly.
"Take it or leave it, mom."
Her lip curled.
"You're worse than your father."
"That's enough."
Josie Stronghold's voice was quiet but commanding, cutting firmly through the tension.
"I would like you to leave now. Warren will be staying here, with us. And if you ever lay so much as a finger on him again, I will have you put in prison for a very long time. Do I make myself clear?"
And even though he knew it was futile, part of Warren wished in that moment that his mom would fight for him.
"You can keep him." Her eyes sought him out, cold and uncaring. "Don't come home."
She slammed the front door as she left, and Warren dropped his head onto Will's shoulder and wished for sleep.
"How is he?"
Will looked tiredly at his mom as he entered the kitchen.
"Sleeping."
He shook his head as he dropped into one of the chairs.
"How could she just let him go like that? She didn't even try to fight for him. How can she not care? He's her son."
"I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know."
She sat next to him, offering him a glass of juice.
"We need to talk, Will."
Will tried very hard not to squirm in his seat. He had been dreading the thought of this for two days. And he knew from her tone exactly what it would be about.
"How long have you known?"
Will shrugged, drawing little patterns on the table top.
"Three years."
"And you didn't think I'd want to know?"
He shrugged again.
"It's not exactly the kind of thing you bring up in every day conversation. How was work? What's for dinner? By the way, I'm gay."
To his surprise, his mom laughed.
"Well, I wouldn't exactly use that approach with your father."
Will grimaced. He was not looking forward to that.
"I love you, Will. Gay or straight, you're still my son."
Will looked up at her through his eyelashes, almost afraid to make eye contact.
"You're not just a little disappointed?"
She smiled.
"How can I be disappointed if it's part of who you are?"
Will closed his eyes, breathing out slowly.
"Why are you not more surprised by this?"
When he opened his eyes, his mom was studying her coffee cup intensely.
"I've had two days to get used to it."
"No, even on Tuesday you didn't seem so surprised." He stared at her for a minute. "Did you know?"
His mom hesitated.
"I suspected."
At his accusing look, she shrugged helplessly.
"You never dated! You never even mentioned any girls after you broke up with Layla. I began to wonder that's all."
Will groaned, and held his head in his hands.
"Don't tell me you knew about Warren too."
When she didn't say anything, he raised his head in disbelief.
"You knew about Warren."
"Well, after he stopped coming round, you were so depressed. And still talked about him, even after you'd stopped being friends. Then when I saw you the other night, you just looked so cute together."
Will rolled his eyes.
"Don't ever let him hear you say that. Besides, I don't even know if we are. Together."
Josie looked at him carefully.
"He cares about you."
Will sighed.
"I know. And I care about him. A lot. I'm just not sure it's what he wants, everything's so complicated right now. And Warren has…trust issues."
She nodded in understanding.
"Give him time. You've waited for him, Will. That's got to show him how serious you are. Just be there for him. That's all you can do right now."
He smiled at her.
"Thanks mom."
"That's what I'm here for. Oh, and Will?"
"Yeah."
"You do know about safe sex don't you?"
He stared at her, for a moment not quite believing she'd said that.
"Yes mom. I'm seventeen. I know."
"It's exactly the same with guys, Will. They may not get pregnant, but there still diseases, infections, all easily prevented with a-"
"I know mom, I get it!" Will cried. He wasn't sure what disturbed him more. The fact that his mom had almost said 'condom', or that his mom was openly discussing gay sex with him.
"I should go. Check on Warren. Okay? Okay."
He backed hurriedly out the room, noting sourly his mother's amused look, and ran up the stairs, leaning against the door of his bedroom in relief, safe in his personal sanctuary.
He couldn't believe his mom had known. He couldn't believe she'd told him to wear a condom. What did she think he and Warren were going to do? Jump into bed with each other the second her back was turned? He was half surprised she hadn't given him a 'no sex in the house' lecture.
He groaned and flopped onto his bed. He would never live this down. He supposed the only thing he had to be thankful for was that his dad didn't know yet.
And he had no idea how he was going to tackle that, because while his mom may possibly have been the most understanding human being in the history of the universe, his dad really, well, wasn't.
Will had a feeling his dad was going to have a hard enough time grasping that his 'perfect' son was gay, let alone that Will had fallen for the son of his arch enemy.
God, what a mess.
And there was the whole Warren thing. The last few days had been so intense, Will wasn't sure how much of it had been real, and how much was just getting caught up with it all.
Did Warren really want him?
Will felt like he'd been waiting his whole life, he didn't think he could take a rejection now, not after he had come so close.
And even if Warren did want him, how easy could it realistically be? Will was certain they couldn't just pretend they hadn't spent the last three years ignoring each other. He couldn't just forget the way Warren had pushed him away. He'd done it once, what was to stop him doing it again?
Will sighed, covering his eyes with his hand. He was suddenly so, so tired. He just wanted to shut everyone and everything out for a few hours.
There was a gentle knock on his door and he opened his eyes reluctantly.
"Come in."
The door opened slowly and Warren's tangled head peered round.
"Hey."
"Hey."
Will sat up, and Warren stepped carefully into the room.
"How you feeling?"
Warren shrugged, looking awkward.
Will chewed on his bottom lip, not sure what to say.
"I, uh, talked to my mom. She meant what she said, about you staying. If you want, that is."
Warren nodded slowly, looking somewhere over Will's left shoulder.
"Is she going to the police?"
"I think she wanted to wait and talk to you."
He nodded again, but didn't meet Will's eyes.
"She knows. About me."
Warren did look at him then, surprised.
"You told her?"
Will shrugged.
"She suspected. She gave me a lecture about condoms."
A ghost of a smile flitted across Warren's face.
"I'm sure your dad loved that."
Will shifted.
"He doesn't, uh, know. And I'm not planning on telling him quite yet."
Warren didn't say anything, and Will bit his lip. This was so hard.
"I'm sorry I hurt you. Before. I didn't mean to slam you."
"You didn't hurt me," Warren said, and Will raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"I mean you did, but it's okay. You were trying to help."
Will hesitated.
"Do you think she's coming back?"
For a moment, Warren looked so sad Will felt it like a physical pain, then his eyes hardened, the expression gone.
"No," he said shortly. "She isn't."
Will stood up and stepped across the room, placing a tentative hand on Warren's shoulder.
Warren looked at him, eyes softening, and Will leant forward to kiss him, but Warren pulled away suddenly.
"I should get some sleep. I have a shift at the Paper Lantern tomorrow night, so…"
He let the sentence trail off, and Will nodded, trying not to show his hurt.
"Yeah, me too. School and everything. Um, I'll see you tomorrow?"
Warren nodded, backing out of the door.
"Night."
He closed it behind him, and Will sank back onto the bed, his confusion and hurt written across his face.
Was Warren about to reject him all over again?
And if he did, could Will handle it?
Warren woke up with a headache.
He showered, got dressed and went down to breakfast, wincing internally at the sight of 'The Stronghold Three' sitting round the breakfast table drinking coffee and orange juice as if they were in a commercial.
"Morning Warren," Mr Stronghold said, far too cheerfully for eight am, in Warren's opinion.
He tried to force a smile, and when that failed managed a nod as he headed for the coffee pot.
"Sleep well?" Mrs Stronghold asked.
He nodded again, hoping the coffee had extra caffeine in it.
Will didn't say anything, in fact, Warren realised, Will wasn't even looking at him, and he tried to ignore the little twist this caused in his stomach.
Will was mad at him, probably because he'd pulled away last night, but Warren didn't know how to act. He wasn't used to people wanting him. He didn't know what to do.
"Will, we'll be home late tonight because we have a meeting with the President of the SVA."
Will raised his head. Warren noticed his eyes were puffy, like he hadn't got much sleep.
"Super Villains Anonymous," Mr Stronghold explained. "For those who want to change but just can't seem to get it right."
"We're giving a pep talk," Mrs Stronghold chipped in.
Warren thought for a moment of his dad, and suddenly wished with all his heart he could have been apart of the SVA. Then maybe he wouldn't have been thrown in Solitary, and Warren's mother wouldn't have turned into an abusive alcoholic who'd abandoned him for being gay. Maybe he wouldn't have had to spend the rest of high school living with the world's most cheerful super hero family.
If he didn't get that scholarship to go to Kent, he might just go insane.
"I've left a tai curry in the oven. All you need to do is heat it up and add rice or noodles, whichever your preference."
Will nodded, though Warren got the feeling he wasn't exactly listening.
"I, uh, have to work after school. I won't be back until late."
Mrs Stronghold looked concerned.
"Are you sure you should be going back so soon?"
He shrugged.
"If I miss another shift, Mrs Lee'll fire me. And I need the money."
There was definite tension in the pause that followed. Warren doubted the Strongholds had ever had money problems in their lives.
"Aren't you hungry Warren?" Josie asked, trying to dispel the uncomfortable atmosphere. "You should really eat something, before school."
Warren couldn't remember the last time his mom had told him to eat something before school. She usually didn't get up in the mornings.
"I'm fine with just coffee."
Mrs Stronghold look uncertain.
"Are you sure? Will can't go anywhere without his breakfast."
"I'm fine," he repeated.
Will stood up.
"We should really get going."
Warren nodded, relieved to have an excuse to get away.
"I'll just get my things."
He was aware of eyes following him out of the kitchen, but resisted the urge to turn. There were only three and half weeks of school left. Then he could get a summer internship somewhere, save more money up. He hardly dared hope that after that he could be in California.
Will was silent whilst they waited for the bus, and Warren shifted uncomfortably on the sidewalk.
"Are you going to prom?" Will asked suddenly.
Warren stared at him.
"What?"
"The senior prom," Will said. "Meg Mastriani invited me, but I wasn't really sure if I wanted to go. I just thought if you were going we could hang out, or whatever. It might make it more…fun."
Warren gaped a little bit.
Was this Stronghold's roundabout way of asking him to the prom? As in a couple?
"I'm not going."
The words were out before he could even think about stopping them.
And he tried very hard not to wonder what dancing with Will might be like, even as he watched Will's face flash with disappointment before becoming expressionless.
"That's cool. I guess I'll just have to spend the night making awkward conversation by the punch bowl."
He laughed, but it sounded fake and hollow.
Warren swallowed, and was suddenly very glad that Layla chose that moment to come out of her front door.
"Hey Will." She gave him a cold look. "Warren."
Warren rolled his eyes a little bit. He honestly couldn't care less if Flower Power hated him. As far as he was concerned, she was just wasting her energy.
"Did you finish that assignment on non linear flying patterns?"
Will nodded sullenly.
"What's up with you?"
"Nothing," he snapped.
She narrowed her eyes.
"William Theodore Stronghold. Whatever has put you in this abominable mood, don't you dare take it out on me."
Will gulped a little.
"Sorry."
"Hm. Apology accepted. So have you decided about prom yet?"
Warren resisted a very strong urge to burn something. Fucking prom.
"Yeah, I'm going to go."
Layla looked surprised.
"Really? I thought you said it would be totally lame and that you'd spend the whole evening making forced conversation at the punch bowl."
Will flushed slightly.
"Well I changed my mind, okay?"
Layla looked at Warren.
"And I suppose you're going."
"No, he's not."
"You're not going to your own prom?"
Warren shrugged.
"I have to work."
It was a lie. Mrs Lee had booked the night off for him months ago. She had been far more excited by the idea than he had.
Truthfully, Will's proposition had scared the heck out of him.
Could he just walk into a room of peers he generally hated (and vice versa) and announce his new boyfriend was the most popular kid in school?
What kind of dream world was Will living in?
The bus pulled up, and Will sat with Layla, and Warren stared out of the window and pretended it didn't bother him.
When they got to school, Warren caught Will before they split to go to their different classes.
"Will, about last night…"
"Last night? What do you mean?"
Warren stared at him for a moment, then nodded.
"Okay fine, if that's the way you want to play it. I'll see you later."
He pretended not to feel Will's eyes on him as he walked away.
"What's going on with you two?"
Will pretended not to hear as he fiddled with his locker combination.
"Don't do that," Layla said.
"Do what?"
"That thing where you pretend not to hear what I'm saying so you can avoid the question. Why are you are Warren friends again?"
Will shrugged, rummaging through the mess in his locker for his Villain Psychology textbook.
"We're not."
"Yeah right. Is he living with you now?"
He shrugged again.
"Will! What's going on?"
Will sighed and turned to face her.
"Warren's staying at my house for awhile, okay? Why, I can't say, that's his business. And as far as the friends thing goes." He sighed again, breaking off and glancing around the hallway. "I was hoping we could be more."
Layla stared at him.
"So he doesn't talk to you for three years, and now you decide you want to date him."
"I've always wanted to date him, you know that."
"Yeah, but before you weren't living with him!"
Will rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, my mom's already given me the safe sex lecture thanks."
He bit his lips as he realised exactly what he'd just revealed.
"Oh my God. You came out to your mom?"
Will groaned, burying his attention back inside his locker. Even more questions.
"She kind of figured it out so I told her."
"And your dad?"
He shot her a glare.
"What do you think?"
Layla looked thoughtful.
"So, are you guys actually together?"
"I don't know!" Will moaned. "I thought we were, but it's like he keeps blowing me hot and cold. I don't know what he wants! And it's driving me crazy."
Layla pulled him carefully out of his locker.
"So talk to him."
"I tried. He doesn't want to talk."
She rolled her eyes.
"So make him. If you really care about him, you won't let him push you away again."
She kissed his cheek.
"Though just so you know, I think it's a really bed idea. He's just going to end up hurting you again. See you at lunch."
Will watched her as she walked down the hallway. She was wrong, of course. Warren wasn't going to hurt him again. No way, because Will wasn't sure he could go through it again. And hadn't he promised himself that he wouldn't let Warren push him away? But wasn't that exactly what was happening?
He sighed and closed his locker, resting his forehead on the cool metal. Man, adolescence sucked.
Prom was tomorrow. And he wanted Warren to go with him. He really, really did.
The problem was, Warren didn't seem to feel the same way.
Warren found a note from Will in his locker at lunch.
We need to talk. Meet me in the gym.
Warren stared at the note. He knew what Will wanted to talk to him about. Prom. He wasn't going. He had never intended to go. Nothing Will could say or do would make him.
He stomped into the gym, fully intending to tell Will where to go if he even tried to mention prom, but Will held up a hand, stopping anything Warren might have said.
"Before you say anything, I wanted to apologise. You've been going through so much lately, and I've been pushing you, and I'm sorry. I just…when I'm with you I…"
He broke off, looking flustered.
Warren watched him impassively for a moment, then leant forward and kissed him.
Will responded immediately, wrapping his arms around Warren's neck, and Warren pulled their bodies flush, enjoying the full contact.
"God Warren," Will gasped, as they pulled apart for breath. "You can't kiss me like that in the gym."
Warren grinned wolfishly, and kissed him again, harder, enjoying the little moan Will made as he surrendered, even though they both knew he could throw Warren off in an instant if he'd wanted to.
Only he didn't want to, he really didn't want to, and in the end it was Warren who pulled away, because he was afraid if he didn't stop then he wouldn't be able to at all.
Will was flushed, his lips cherry red, and looking at him like that, with his hair all messed up, Warren wanted him all over again.
"We should go to lunch," Will said, and Warren nodded in agreement, although what he actually wanted to do was go behind the bleachers and finish what they'd started.
"I'm sorry I was pissy about prom. You don't have to go if you don't want to."
Warren smiled.
"I'm sure it'll be fine without you."
The smile quickly turned into a frown.
"You're still going?"
Will looked surprised.
"That's okay, isn't it? I mean, I thought it might actually be fun." He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. "Besides, It's kinda cool to be invited to the senior prom when you're not actually a senior."
"Yeah, of course it's okay. If you want to go, you should go. We're not an old married couple, Stronghold."
Will laughed and led the way to the cafeteria, and Warren was glad Will couldn't see his frown.
He wasn't sure why it bothered him so much, he just hated the thought of Will at the prom without him. Which was stupid, because they were both separate people, and had spent the last three years being separate. There was no need for them suddenly to become joined at the hip 'cause they'd made out a few times.
It's more than that.
He scowled at the thought, joining Will in the cafeteria line and trying not think about prom, or the way Will made him feel when they kissed, and certainly not the very real possibility that he could be falling in love with him.
Will straightened his skinny, black tie as he stood in front of the mirror, suddenly feeling self conscious and over dressed.
He had almost changed his mind five times that day about going. He wanted to go, but at the same time he didn't, not if Warren wasn't.
Which is pathetic, he reminded himself firmly. There was no reason whatsoever that Warren should have to go just because he was. It wasn't like it was a date or anything.
He sighed as he glanced at his clock radio.
7.15. He had to leave or he would be late.
Rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, he turned and almost jumped out of his skin finding Warren standing in the doorway.
"You scared me."
"You look hot."
Will felt himself blush. Warren had never said anything like that to him before.
"Uh, thanks. What are you going to do tonight? Oh wait, you're working, aren't you?"
Warren shrugged, looking suddenly uncomfortable.
"Yeah. I'm, um, on the late shift."
Will nodded distractedly, pulling at his cuffs.
"You look fine." Warren stepped into the room, and for a moment Will thought he was going to kiss him, but just patted him on the shoulder instead.
"Have fun."
Will forced a smile, trying not to show his confusion. Yesterday Warren had been all over him, now he wasn't even going to kiss him goodbye?
"Yeah. See you later."
He was almost out of the door when Warren's voice stopped him.
"And Stronghold? If I find out you've been kissing any girls, I'll kick your ass."
Will threw a grin over his shoulder.
"I'll just be kissing the boys then."
Warren laughed, and Will shook his head as he went down the stairs. The only boy he would actually want to be kissing wouldn't be there.
Ten minutes later (his mom had waylaid him with her camera on the way out of the house) he was pulling into Meg Mastriani's driveway in his blue Lotus hatchback (an overly expensive birthday present from his dad).
Meg was wearing a floaty black dress, her hair hanging in curls around her face, and she looked pretty.
Will smiled and complimented her, then posed for his second round of photographs that night, trying not grit his teeth when he smiled.
Finally they reached the gym, where Meg was immediately swept away to the bathroom by a group of her giggling friends and Will made his way resignedly over to the punchbowl, where he was no doubt expected to make forced conversation.
"S'up Stronghold."
He returned the greeting of a group of seniors, then gulped down three cups of punch, trying to pass the time. He probably shouldn't have come. He probably wouldn't have a very good time.
But Meg was cool, they sat next to each other in Hero Negotiations, and even though he suspected she might have a tiny crush on him, she'd never said or done anything about it. As far as Will was concerned, they were just here as friends.
It was half an hour before Meg and her friends came back out of the bathroom (Will had consumed a lot of punch) and she smiled and took his arm.
"Let's dance."
Will bit his lip as he followed her onto the floor.
It wasn't that he didn't like to dance, it was just he wasn't very good at it, and he really didn't want to show up Meg, one of the most popular girls in school, right now.
She put her arms around him as a slow song started, and Will gulped.
"I can't wait until they announce the Prom King and Queen," she said, her mouth close to his ear.
Will resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"I'm sure you'll get it," he said instead.
"You think so?"
He shrugged.
"How could you not?"
She beamed at him, leaning in a little too close.
"Who do you think will be king?" he asked, hoping to distract her.
Meg looked thoughtful.
"I'm not sure. Perhaps Justin. He's fairly high up on the social hierarchy."
Will blinked. Did she just say 'social hierarchy'?
Meg laughed suddenly.
"I heard this crazy rumour that Warren Peace has been nominated. Can you believe it? I mean, who would seriously nominate him, let alone vote for him?"
Will felt himself stiffen.
"Why, what's wrong with him?"
"Oh nothing's wrong with him, apart from his non existent manners of course. I actually like the guy. He's what you might call refreshing." She laughed. "It's just he's not exactly Prom King material, if you know what I mean."
She frowned at him for a moment.
"Didn't you two used to be friends, like, years ago?"
Will shrugged.
"Yeah, I remember. After Gwen Grayson tried to take over the school at Homecoming? I was only a sophomore at the time. You must have been freshman year." She laughed. "Getting a head start on saving the world. You guys were friends, weren't you?"
"Yeah we were. Still are, actually."
She looked surprised.
"But didn't he, like, totally ditch you? Everyone in school knew about it at the time. After you'd bothered to befriend him he threw it all back in your face." She shook her head. "That was so harsh."
"Things are different now. And Warren is…cool. When you get to know him."
She smiled slightly. "Well, I'm glad you're friends again. I'm thirsty. Do you want to get some punch?"
Will forced a smile. More punch.
At the punchbowl, Meg got distracted by even more friends, and Will felt himself getting a little impatient. Despite his jokes about it, he really didn't want to spend all night making forced conversation at the punch bowl.
"Hey Will, how's it going?"
Will recognised a pretty senior he has seen around but never actually spoken to before.
"Hey Christa. Having fun?"
Christa smiled and nodded.
"You and Meg seemed pretty cosy on the dance floor." She leant toward him, suddenly conspiring. "She likes you, you know."
Will gulped.
"She...she does?"
Christa nodded.
"Oh yeah. There's a reason she didn't wear lip gloss tonight, after all."
Will stared so hard he thought his eyes were bugging out of his head.
Christa laughed, and Meg appeared suddenly, taking him by the hand.
"You want to dance some more?"
"Uh sure. But I need to talk to you about something first."
Meg frowned.
"Can't it wait? I'm in the mood for dancing."
"Well I'd really like to, uh, tell you now."
Meg shared a look with her friends that Will wasn't entirely sure what it meant.
"Be right back, girls."
She led him to a quiet corner of the gym and waited, looking expectant.
Will breathed out slowly.
"Ok. Um, Meg? I think you're really pretty, and you're a really great girl. But, um, I think you should something about me."
"Know what?"
"I'm gay."
She stared at him for a long moment.
"I know, Will."
"What? You know? How do you know?"
Meg smiled.
"Most people do. I invited you as a friend. Not anything more. Besides, I have a boyfriend, in college."
"But your friend, Christa. She said that you liked me."
Meg shook her head and laughed.
"She's playing you." She laughed again. "You look so unbelievably cute right now. Come on, let's dance."
Will allowed himself to be led to the dance floor, half in shock.
Meg knew? Most people knew? How did they all know? Will thought the only the people who knew were the ones he'd told. Not most people.
They were on the third song, and Will was still reeling, when Meg stopped suddenly.
"I think he's here for you."
She pointed behind him, and Will turned around and began reeling all over again.
"What are you doing here?"
"It is my prom, Stronghold," Warren replied.
"You said you weren't coming."
"Yeah, but I didn't like the thought of you having to spend all night with a girl."
Will stared at him, amazed. Warren was even wearing a tux. An ill fitting one, it was true, and his tie hung down either side of his collar, untied, but he was still wearing it.
"So, are we going to dance, or are you going to stand there and leer at me all night?"
Will laughed, and Warren took him in his arms, drawing him close as the music swelled around them.
There were gasps and mutters running through the gym, but Will tuned them out, resting his head against Warren's shoulder and wondering, cornily, if this was a dream.
Warren turned him round in a half circle, and Will raised his head, dazed, so their cheeks brushed.
"I do love you," Warren whispered, and Will thought his heart might burst.
"I know," he whispered back, and Warren kissed him, right there, in front of everyone.
There was an explosion of whistles and cheers around them, and Will felt himself blushing, even as he was smiling, so wide he wondered if it could fit his face.
Warren took his hand, guiding him from the dance floor, outside, and Will felt the cold air on his flushed face.
"Wow," he murmured.
"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," Warren replied gruffly, but he was smiling, pulling Will toward him for another kiss.
Will melted against him, there was no other word for it, and Warren chuckled against his lips, wrapping his arms tightly around his back.
"I can't believe you did this," Will gasped, breathless. "I can't believe you're here."
"Figured it was about time I got my act together and showed you how much you mean to me." He looked at Will, suddenly serious. "You'd waited so long. I was afraid if I left you to wait any more, I might have lost my chance."
Will shook his head.
"Definitely not lost it," he whispered, pressing their foreheads together, the contact a searing point between them.
"You make me want to burst into flames, right now," Warren hissed.
"Oh God."
They were kissing again, suddenly frantic and desperate, and Will wasn't sure what was happening to him. But he knew he wanted more.
Warren's hands were pulling him closer, and Will moved against him, a helpless moan escaping as Warren moved too, then Warren's hand was between them, and Will thought he might die.
Neither of them lasted very long, and they clung to each other, messy and breathless.
"Shit," Will gasped softly. "That was…"
"Yeah," Warren agreed. "Yeah."
They cleaned up in the bathroom as best as they could, then emerged, Will feeling sheepish and sure that everyone in the room knew what they had been doing.
They received a chorus of 'aaaws' as they entered, and Will was sure if he hadn't been almost indestructible, Warren would have broken every bone in his hand.
"You guys are so cute," Meg said, smiling widely as she joined them, and Warren squeezed his hand a little more tightly, if that was possible.
"Thanks," Will said, carefully extracting his hand. "And sorry to abandon you."
Meg grinned.
"I think I'll survive. They're about to announce the homecoming titles. You guys are staying, right?"
Warren opened his mouth.
"We're staying," Will said quickly, ignoring the glare Warren shot his way.
"Good evening Class of 2005. Welcome to your Senior Prom!"
Warren groaned, and Will frowned at him.
"It's not that bad. It's just Prom King and Queen."
"It's not that," Warren muttered. "That's the girl that does the morning announcements."
Will raised an eyebrow, not understanding.
"So?"
Warren shook his head.
"Never mind."
Will turned his attention back to the stage, where Announcement Girl was getting ready to open the ballot for Prom Queen.
"And the Prom Queen for Sky High of 2005 is…Meg Mastriani!"
The gym erupted in cheering, and Meg burst into a huge smile, leaning over to kiss Will on the cheek, then, to everyone's surprise, kissing Warren as well.
Warren turned a funny shade of pink, then glared at Will when he laughed.
They watched as Meg was crowned and then Announcement Girl came back on with the envelope for Prom King.
"And the title of Prom King 2005 goes to…" She stared at the ballot for a very long moment. "Warren Peace?"
There was a pregnant pause.
"Who the fuck nominated me?" Warren asked loudly. "And who the fuck actually voted for me?"
On stage, Meg burst out laughing.
"Come up here, Warren," she called. "Come and receive your crown."
Will gave him a little shove, and Warren shot him another glare.
As he began to make his way down the auditorium, the crown slowly started clapping, and Will let out the breath he'd been holding.
Warren looked almost comical as he stood on stage, scowling, whilst Principal Powers set the crown on his head.
"Congratulations Meg and Warren," she said. The students cheered again, and Meg took Warren's hand and led him onto the dance floor.
They shared a spot lit dance and Warren shot him a look over Meg's shoulder.
Will laughed and thought that this may well have been the happiest night of his life.
"I can't believe you're Prom King," Will whispered as they slipped into the house.
The lights were all off, meaning the Strongholds had either gone to bed or were saving the world, which suited Warren just fine as there was only one Stronghold he was interested in right then.
He growled and pulled the crown off, fitting in on Will's head.
"It suits you."
Will laughed and kissed him, which Warren quickly deepened, pushing Will back against the front door.
Will clung to him, his fingers bound to leave bruises on Warren's shoulders tomorrow, and Warren tried not to wince, kissing Will with a ferocity he didn't know he had.
Will pushed against him, and Warren felt the heat lick through his veins, as if he'd just powered up, right then. It was so intense, unlike anything else he'd ever felt before, and he realised he never wanted it to end, this feeling, this moment, this night.
"Upstairs," Will gasped against his lips, and even as his heart raced at the suggestion, Warren hesitated, pulling away slightly.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Fuck yes," Will replied. "I love you. And I want you. A lot."
Warren grinned, kissing him again, and then they were half walking, half falling up the stairs, stealing touches and kisses, unable to leave each other alone even for a second.
In Will's room, Warren closed the door, and just stared at him for a long moment.
Will, halfway out of his shirt, stopped.
"What?" he asked. "You haven't changed your mind have you?"
Hell no, was what came into Warren's head, but he only shook it, silently, dropping onto his knees in front of Will and reaching for his belt.
Time seemed frozen for a very eternal moment, then he felt Will's hands in his hair, twining round the strands, and Warren took a deep breath and stepped into something completely unknown.
tbc