Hi everyone! I'm back! I'm a little later than usual but you should still get at least two chapters tonight.

To my lovely guest who speaks Russian; thank you for your review! What a nice thing to say, the last chapter might be my favourite so I am glad you liked it too.

And to goopy gislcarbo; I am glad you liked it too! It was surprisingly fun to write. Yeah, I usually start writing at about 9pm and then update once at around midnight and once more before bed at about 4am, I am a night owl!
Don't worry, I promise I won't tell your boss!

To everyone; I hope you enjoy!

I like/love you

"Say, Bluewer?"

The bespectacled Prefect looked up from his book, "yes, Greenhill?"

"I was wondering if you could help me with something?"

"Certainly, what is it?" The darker haired student replied, wondering. His friend was notorious for never asking for help with anything.

"Clayton."

That single word explained everything Bluewer needed to know. He shut his book and put it down, "it's not going well?"

"It's not going at all," the blond prefect admitted. "It's like no matter what I say I end up not being able to tell him how I feel and just making him more and more confused."

"That's true, you don't exactly have a way with words," Bluewer said in that brutally honest way of his. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that one of his best friends had fallen for his Fag and he'd somehow been roped into helping with this romantic drama.

Also why did Green Dorm have to make everything more complicated than it had to be? They said Sapphire Owl Dorm was hard to work with when in reality it was almost always the opposite that was true. Couldn't he just say, "hey Clayton I like you as more than a friend, wanna hang out sometime?"

While Bluewer doubted that Greenhill would ever be easy-going enough to use those exact words, the solution was clear, just spit it out.

But if he couldn't do that... "Well if you can't tell him, maybe you can show him?"

Clayton stared at the vase of gentians addressed to him as though they might explode, "and where did these come from?" Some of the older and more admired students got things like roses and poems left for them but not him. He was much too boring.

"Hmm?" Maurice Cole poked his head back into the room, "oh, Prefect Greenhill got those for you."

Of all the names Clayton was expecting to hear, that was not one of them, "what? Why?!"

Cole looked away but Clayton caught sight of his eye-roll anyway, "isn't it obvious?"

Was this kid for real? "Um, no."

Clayton was no great lip-reader but he pretty clearly saw Cole mouth the words 'oh my God.'

"You'll figure it out," the blond promised before vanishing after being no help whatsoever, as always.

Shrugging Clayton reminded himself to thank the Green Lion Prefect before moving the flowers to the windowsill where they'd get some light and putting the strange gesture out of his mind.

He didn't pick up on it at first, and probably wouldn't have at all if he hadn't been paying more attention to Greenhill since the older boy strangely sent him flowers, but Greenhill was acting different with Clayton than he was with everyone else.

He seemed more attentive to Clayton than he did he did to other people, asking him questions about himself, listening with genuine interest and attentiveness when he spoke, even if the topic was unspeakably boring, and remembering the things the younger student told him with a care that spoke more to his interest in Clayton than any of his questions.

He always made eye contact when he spoke to Clayton, his eyes were a lovely shade of pale green and always looked earnest, as though he was committing everything Clayton said and did to memory. He had nice eyes, and it was nice to have someone pay attention when he spoke and offer an opinion. The two were quickly becoming fast friends.

And Clayton had never been more weirded out in his life!

What was happening?! Why was Greenhill always talking to him?! Was this some sort of elaborate prank? If so; Clayton wasn't seeing the punchline. He believed they were becoming actual friends but it all seemed almost too good to be true. He'd never seen himself as someone who would, or could, become close pals with a member of the sporty Green Dorm but he really liked Greenhill and the Prefect seemed to like him back, so that was suspicious because why would he like Clayton?

And then there was the way Bluewer and Cole always turned away, biting their lips or cheeks to prevent themselves from laughing whenever they saw the two of them together.

Yeah, that was very disconcerting. What did they know that he didn't?

So Clayton was on edge and trying to figure out the other angle while simultaneously hoping there wasn't another angle. So when Greenhill touched his shoulder in the hall after class had ended he yelped and jumped a foot in the air.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Herman said. His lips tilted up at the edges, Clayton really was too cute. But then again, he was a little bit biased.

"No, it's okay Greenhill." He squeaked, before his voice came back to regular as his heartrate went back to normal. "Sorry," he said, much calmer, "I just wasn't paying attention. Anyway, did you need something from me?"

Was that a blush on the blond Prefect's cheeks? "Uh no, I just…" He shifted uncomfortably. "I got you something."

He'd gotten Clayton a gift? The bespectacled student decided he was going to have a talk with his own Prefect because though Greenhill seemed like the perfect friend, Clayton's instincts had warned him there was more to it than that and that feeling wasn't going away, it was just getting stronger.

Before he could reply, Greenhill pulled his bookbag open and dug through it, finally producing a thick, leather-bound book.

"Oh!" Clayton's eyes went wide as he read the title, he'd been searching for this volume for ages, and he'd told Greenhill about it. The older student remembered because he always listened to what Clayton said.

Clayton's heart beat funny, Greenhill offered him the book and he took it with gentle hands.

"Thank you, very much. But you didn't have to do that for me." He said, still wondering why the blond had.

"I wanted to," Greenhill told him softly. In a more normal tone he added, "so that's it right? That's the one you wanted?"

When Clayton assured him it was and thanked him profusely again a true smile broke across the normally reserved Prefect's face.

"Well I'm really glad it's the right one." He said, and again, he seemed to genuinely mean it, "I hope you like it."

Clayton's heart thudded in his chest again and he didn't understand why.

They parted ways with a smile and, his new book tucked under his arm, Clayton crossed the school to his dorm and rapped smartly on Bluewer's door with his knuckles.

The minute his Prefect bade him to enter Clayton strode into the room saying, "okay, what the Hell is happening?"

Well he should have known better than to think he was going to get anything out of Bluewer, Clayton thought glumly. If the older student didn't want to tell him something, he wouldn't. It had been weeks and he was still fretting over his situation with Prefect Greenhill.

Although now it was less about any ulterior motive and more about the way his heart sped up to uncomfortable levels and his hands got clammy whenever Greenhill turned that perfect smile his way.

Which was always. He always smiled at Clayton.

Like right now, until something about their 'friendship' clicked in Clayton's brain and he thoughtlessly blurted out a question wiped that smile right off Herman's face.

"Are we courting?" He asked blankly, having finally put the pieces together.

Greenhill stopped in the walk the two of them were taking, and shifted uncomfortably, he seemed to be trying to figure out a way to say no without saying no and yes without saying yes and was failing quite spectacularly at it.

It all made sense now.

"I…" if Herman's cheeks got any hotter they were going to catch on fire, Clayton thought absently, "I-I'm sorry, I just wanted to tell you how I felt but I couldn't." He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, "I should probably go."

He tried to walk away but Clayton grabbed his hand. Now, finally, the tables were turned, and Clayton was the one clumsily avoiding eye-contact while blushing a brighter red than rubies.

"You don't have to go. I…" Clayton hesitated, then took the plunge, "I really like being with you."

Greenhill stared at him for a second before his face lit up in that way that always made Clayton swoon and it all made sense now.

He was going to kill Bluewer for being so unhelpful later.

As they walked off together, hand in hand, Herman Greenhill felt happier than he ever had. He was going to thank Bluewer for being so helpful later.

Done! Hope you liked it guys.

If anyone has another pairing they would like to see written please let me know. My stories always seem to be just better when I'm writing them for someone else, I dunno why.