A?N: In this chapter: an awful shitload of unresolved sexual tension, ambiguous circumstances, and the wonders of teenage metamorphosis. I also changed the chapter titles cause I got bored with the old ones...now they are female rap songs, or songs that have a section with a girl rapping, in the case of Up Out My Face (Mariah Carey feat. Nicki Minaj) and Zachem Ya (t.A.t.u. , English version is "Stars"). They are all worth listening to, in my opinion.

"Solidarity, solidarity, solidarity forever! We're proud to be working-class…solidarity forever!"

-"Solidarity" from the musical Billy Elliot

"You want to be a ballet dancer? That's fuckin' weird, man."

-Michael, while exuberantly pulling on his sister's skirt, from Billy Elliot.

It was a long moment before Feliks reacted. He tipped his head back, letting his eyelids fall to guard him against the waning afternoon light. A quick rush of anger and astonishment bubbled up from deep within him, finally pouring out of his mouth in a jubilant rush of hysteria and laughter. Birds cawed and rustled in the surrounding trees as Feliks's laughter rebounded against the imposing brick wall against which a rather disgruntled Toris was now crumpled.

"It's…really, really not funny, Feliks," the boy muttered self-consciously, his head hung low. He nervously snapped and unsnapped that ominous pink hair clip, unconsciously creating a regular clicking rhythm in time with his heart.

"And to think – and to think -" the Pole cackled, kicking his feet in absolute mirth. He fell backwards, spreading his arms wide on the grassy slope as though to express the joy that came with honesty."- that all these years, THIS was, like, the issue!"

"Oh, God," Toris replied, running a hand tiredly through his matted hair. "I think I'd forgotten some things about you."

"And this," Feliks said, grinning devilishly. He rolled to his feet and leaned forward, sparkling eyes only inches from Toris's. The Lithuanian blushed deeply as Feliks entangled a hand in his matted locks. Feliks's grin grew, a strange sense of accomplishment filling him at his old friend's reaction. This was fun, it was - he would have to do more in the future to make Toris squirm. "Seriously needs my attention. Like, to the max."

"Hn…huh?" Toris blinked rapidly.

"Your hair, cutie. It's, like, a total Chernobyl right now."

Feliks backed away to inspect the state of said disaster, and Toris breathed a heavy sigh. Feliks's hair fluttered in the exhale, but his sharp remark was cut off by the Lithuanian. "Do you even know what Chernobyl was?"

"Like, I t-totally do! O-of course!"

Toris just rolled his eyes, a tiny grin playing around the corners of his mouth. It was good to be home.

Feliks grinned down at his (ex?) best friend. The Lithuanian was between his knees, head tilted back. His eyes closed in pleasure, unintelligible sighs issuing from his temptingly parted lips.

"You sure make a lot of noise, Liet," Feliks said, lips pursed to stifle his giggle.

"Well, you're good," Toris replied defensively. "Maybe better than the girls at the salon."

"You don't seriously think my hair is, like, this cute by accident?"

Toris did not deign to answer. He let Feliks's hands work the "Extra-Strength Cleansing Formula!" shampoo through his matted locks, removing vodka and tension into the tub of lukewarm water. With his head submerged, his usually-silky chestnut floated around his head in a halo.

Feliks bit his lip to keep from laughing at Toris's ecstatic expression, letting his hands roam superfluously over the boy's head. "I suppose it, like, takes all kinds."

"Hn?"

"I mean, like, whatever gets you going…it's like totally cool."

"What on earth are you on about?"

"Never mind. I've, like, got to change the water now." Feliks stepped away, feeling affection bubble up within him for Toris. The Lithuanian was as transparent as a well-scrubbed window, every emotion immediately transferring to his face. His confusion, happiness…some function of the years they'd spent together had enabled Feliks to read his friend like an open, size 18-font book. With pictures.

Feliks gently lifted the Lithuanian's head from the tub of water, exchanging it for the softest towel he could find, and stepped into the bathroom to fill the carton with clean lukewarm water. What else? Of course. His hair dryer and his best, most non-painful brush. Mustn't let Liet catch cold.

Feliks grinned despite himself as he entered his bedroom again, though he could not laugh outright or risk spilling two gallons of water all over his beautiful pale pink carpet. Now that Feliks was enlightened, Toris's attraction was just as plain as his pleasure and disappointment. How had he missed it before? The flushed face, dilated eyes, fast breathing…and the way Toris was always biting his own lip until it was raw, as though he were trying to conceal something. Keep something under wraps.

Oh, Liet, my boy, Feliks thought. You know I, like, totally LOVE unwrapping presents.

"The sparklier the wrapping paper, the better."

"Wh-what?" Toris's brows shot upward in surprise, Feliks unaware of the intensity of his own stare.

"Never mind."

In a short time, Toris's hair was pronounced clean. And hell if that wasn't disappointment on his face, Feliks chuckled to himself, letting one finger stray down Toris's neck as he lifted the boy's head onto the towel. His grin only grew when Toris shivered visibly.

"Be right back." Feliks gathered his hair-cleaning items to return to the bathroom, absolutely certain this time that the puppy-dog expression on Toris's face was disappointment. He was just too cute!

Feliks paused in front of the bathroom mirror as he replaced his blow dryer. His eyes were wide, but his ever-perfect hair was still in place. Of course. What was he expecting? He'd only been fixing the boy's hair. This was ridiculous. This was nothing different from their childhood friendship – Feliks was still irreverently annoying, and he knew it, Toris still had that same trusting, dopey smile that had always made Feliks's heart melt…

…has it always been like this?

Maybe the only thing different here was circumstance. The only change from the innocent days of childhood friendship and sunshine…was that they were adolescents now, brimming with hormones and emotion. Maybe…the stakes were no higher now than they had been before. It was only that now both of them were aware. And Toris had awakened far earlier than he had…

Feliks jerked in surprise as the muffled sound of a rather high-pitched voice made its way through the wall to his ears. A mere ten feet away in his bedroom, Toris was talking to someone. Toris sounded very nervous.

The bathroom door slammed shut behind Feliks.

17th Century

In a Commonwealth far far away…

"Like, show me your thing and junk!"

"Wh-what?" The 12-year-old Toris blushed madly.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, the threat of the workweek hanging half-hidden behind tall stalks of rye and the seemingly-stationary sun suspended overhead. And Feliks was bored. Bad things happened when Feliks was bored.

"I'm not going to! Stop being stupid, Feliks!" Toris pouted, flushing deeply.

Feliks leaned closer to his friend, eyebrows raised teasingly. "Why not? I wanna see."

"No!"

"Polish rule."

"It's not going to happen!"

"Hmph. Fine. You're, like, totally useless." Feliks pouted for a moment, but then seemed to forget his mock anguish. Was it possible he did not want to hurt the Lithuanian's feelings? "Wanna roll down the hill with me?"

It was a favorite past-time of theirs, competing to see who could tumble recklessly down the rather steep rise faster, who could roll farther, if they could hold hands and roll all the way to the bottom together. Toris was always faster. Somehow, Feliks had maintained the childish belief that if he kept trying, one day Toris would roll all the way to the pond and fall in, though it was obviously too far away. Then Feliks would be the real winner. It would be hilarious, the look on his Liet's face.

"No, I'm too tired. But you go ahead."

So he did. The Pole rolled all the way down the hill on his side, making his stumbling way back up, again and again until he was so dizzy he weaved as though he were drunk. As the vertigo faded, Feliks noticed the look on Toris's face…intrigued, but daydreaming at the same time. He looked checked out, but his eyes were still focused…on Feliks. He'd turned a funny color…perhaps he was getting a fever? Ought they to go inside and get a glass of water for him?

Instead, Feliks rolled down the hill several more times.

"Feliks, fix your clothes," Toris finally commanded. Feliks looked down, surprised to find his shirt had ridden up in his hill-rolling gaiety. At least he was wearing breeches today instead of a lacey skirt, which was bound to be ruined by his childhood games.

"It'll just get messed up again, in, like, two seconds."

"It's not right to go around like that, Feliks. You should fix it."

"Like, why are you freaking out? You're not my mother." Feliks fixed it anyway, and plopped down in the grass next to his friend. "'sides, there's only the two of us here."

"Yeah." Toris replied, looking away as Feliks's hands pulled him back to lie down next to his friend. Their knees and shoulders touched, as innocent as the autumn breeze. And, as quietly as the breeze, "There's only the two of us here."

Had Feliks heard him? It appeared not to matter, given the Pole's response. "Oh my gawd, lookit! That cloud totally looks like my pony!"

Coming Soon! Unfortunate assumptions, keeping certain things under wraps, and, this little thing we call "Tasting Poland". Um. It's a cooking website?