A/N: Three chapters all about one day! After this chapter the day will be over!

You'll Be in My Heart

He did enjoy playing hard classical tunes, ones where you had to do a million things at once and hardly remembered to breathe, those fancy words on the page, legato, staccato, and the occasional pizzicato. Kevin hated that, he always accidentally spun the bow at an awkward angle that when he came to needing it again he almost couldn't play. You had to remember to hold the violin with your elbow bent at the right angle else it would stoop and be harder to access the strings with your fingers. This was also the case for the wrist which had to be held back or reaching over to the string of G would be harder than it ought to.

Not to forget holding the bow so the little finger controlled the tip, resting it so it balanced on the strings, keeping it straight, keeping it away from the finger section, moving the thumb with the rest of the finger when transferring into second or third position, moving it back up again, not pressing too hard, not pressing too soft, keeping his fingers on their tips, perfecting the almost millimetre difference between a flat and a sharp, reading the music, reading the dynamics, keeping the rhythm, and trying not to throw the violin out of the window when he messed up.

All this and he still couldn't stop thinking about Clyde as he played.

Though perhaps that had something more to do with the song choice, for Kevin had long abandoned his classical pieces for his memorised movie themes. The ones his fingers would move automatically to play, his arm needed no coaxing. Sure they were easy, but sometimes easy was good.

The truth was that he was boldly playing the Tarzan theme because of Clyde's secret obsession, which Kevin only knew about having seen the D.V.D case on his desk that fateful day. Clyde still hadn't admitted to it.

Start on a down-bow. C C-A A-G G-F. Second finger, open, down a string third, second... The movements flowed through his brain like they were imprinted. He stopped focusing on the music and instead on the lyrics which had automatically begun playing around his head.

Come stop your crying/It will be alright/Just take my hand/Hold it tight.

Was it that crying inevitably reminded him of Clyde?His fingers continued playing as his mind melted into certain lyrics, lingering on them.

This bond between us/Can't be broken.

The lyrics were almost warming, very soothing. Kevin really wondered how he was able to find so much relevance in Tarzan.

Why can't they understand the way we feel?/ They just don't trust what they can't explain/ I know we're different but deep inside us/ We're not that different at all.

Was this song based on his life? Was his life perhaps based on this song? It didn't seem completely impossible at that moment that a greater power was controlling his life to revolve around these words, this song.

Don't listen to them/ 'Cause what do they know?/ We need each other/ To have, to hold.

He let the music fill him up.

Oh, you'll be in my heart./ No matter what they say/ You'll be here in m-

And then his mom's screechy voice cut through the beautiful music, almost ruining his night. "Kevin, that's a movie theme!" He kicked his stand over in anger and cursed loud at the pain in his toe. What a fucking way to come back down to earth.

As soon as the Jock got through his front door he realised he'd had his evening planned out for him.

"Clyde?" called Megan from in the kitchen, where she was baking with their dad's girlfriend. His date a while back with the doctor had been successful, and they had become a very close couple. Susan was her name, and she was very lovely, dark brown hair, blue eyes. She had a genuinely caring personality, never said a cruel word. Megan had developed a quick love for her, probably stemming from a want for a female role model, having someone to talk to about her more personal problems, like her break up with Ike. Megan had been too young when their mom died to properly remember her, she did have some fuzzy memories but nothing as concrete as Clyde. Clyde liked Susan as well; she'd been to see him in a friendly against Conifer.

They both smiled at him as he entered the kitchen and slouched in a chair. "Help us make some fairy cakes," asked Megan, wiping her flour covered fingers on her apron. Her hair was tied up in a bobble, grinning face covered in a mixture of ingredients, she really looked like the sister of Clyde at that moment.

Clyde laughed at her. "You'd be better without my help. Remember I was almost left with scalding blisters the last time I attempted to cook?"

Megan's grin got wider. "Yeah but you won't be as distracted this time."

Clyde was really starting to believe his sister knew more than she let on, but he was going to let it slide. He couldn't handle any more awkward situations that night.

"Come on, bro. It will cheer you up."

Clyde looked disbelievingly at her. It was amazing how she knew that he needed cheering up badly, and that food was the perfect way to distract him, in the few seconds they'd talked. Well, maybe he could understand how she knew about the food bit. He creased his brow. "I don't know if I'm in the mood."

Megan frowned, she wasn't taking no for an answer. "I'll let you lick the spoon."

Clyde gave up; maybe it was a good idea just to drop his thoughts for a while. He smiled at his sister. "Well if you'll let me lick the spoon then I'm in."

He walked over to where Susan was standing, pulling on a pink frilly apron for the hell of it. It was quite a nice one actually, flowers down one side and a lacy trim. "Hey, how's it going?" he asked, washing his hands.

She smiled back, brushing her choppy bangs out of her eyes. "It's going good thanks." She was creaming sugar and butter together using a wooden spoon, deciding it was more social than using a loud mixer. "Did you have a nice day?"

Clyde thought about the shower, Craig and Bradley finding out, another day with Kevin, but then he also thought about Kevin's past problems, and how he just had to get them out into the open. "I guess so. I mean it was so amazing and perfect in every way on one hand." Clyde raised one of his hands in demonstration, which Megan immediately placed an egg in. Clyde ignored this. "And it was just horrible on the other hand." He raised his other hand, which Megan placed a second egg in. "So I'm not really sure."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now. I want to forget about it." He turned his attention to the eggs then, baffled.

Susan laughed. "I think she means you to crack them."

Clyde shrugged. "Okay." Without a warning, and with two sudden loud crunches, he slammed his hands down onto the counter, brown shells and yellow goo, streaming in every direction, and down onto the floor. Susan's eyes lit up in absolute shock, her mouth gaping open in stunned silence.

Megan stared at him like he belonged in an insane asylum, but she wasn't shocked, her heart didn't miss one beat. "Yeah that's right, Clyde. Now just whisk them up and put them in the mixture," she offered dryly.

Clyde tilted his head to the side, realising his error. "Oh."

"He's a retard," explained Megan, directing her words to Susan, whose mouth was still hanging open.

Clyde's dad appeared in the doorway, puzzled. There was a notable transformation in him since he got a girlfriend, a new vitality in his face. His skin was lighter and he looked like he was finally getting a decent amount of sleep. "Who's a retard?"

"Clyde," replied Megan, turning to her dad.

"Ahhh," Roger nodded knowingly, "what's he done now?" Treading cautiously over to them, he sighed when he saw the mess created in his kitchen.

Susan raised her eyebrow then. "Instead of a retard, let's just say he's two eggs short of a box shall we?"

Roger smiled in amusement. "So would I be correct in saying this mess on the floor was the work of my son, and not my two lovely ladies?"

Clyde raised his goo covered hands. "In my defence, dad, they made me do it. I warned Megan she was better without my help."

Megan laughed. "I thought even you would know that we crack eggs for a reason, not just as a 'screw you' to the chickens!"

"Well maybe I just have some unresolved issues with those beady-eyed, sharp-beaked, feathered bastards."

Roger raised his eyebrow. "Maybe you don't want chicken tacos for tea then?"

"...Or maybe I love chickens."

Finished with his practice and schoolwork Kevin went downstairs into the living room, where his dad was sat with a beer, watching the television. Kevin almost turned around and walked out of the room again, in the mood for his dad he was not. But his dad spotted him and beckoned him forward.

"Hello there, son. Your practice sounded good."

Kevin tensed. "Thank you."

"There's an NBA game on, I don't suppose you want to watch it." Kevin's dad's tone made it clear he didn't expect Kevin to stay, it was almost condescending, like Kevin wasn't good enough, wasn't man enough, to appreciate basketball.

The black-haired boy shrugged his shoulders and took a seat on the sofa. "Okay."

That shocked his dad. "You really want to?"

"Sure." Kevin fixed his eyes on the screen, watching the intense dribbling. He noticed his dad's team were up, probably why the T.V was still on. His dad had a tendency to turn the set off when his team started to lose.

"So," asked his dad awkwardly, "how are you?"

"Fine," replied Kevin. "How was your trip?" His dad had that day got back from a week away on business in Hong Kong.

"It was all fine."

Kevin nodded, falling silent. He always had this problem with his dad; they just never knew what to talk about. They continued to watch the game in silence for a while, occasionally one of them would say something, and the other would reply, but these conversations were short and few.

Watching the game, Kevin realised how his knowledge of basketball had developed over the past couple of months, he found he was able to recognise the tactics they used and even moves they should have made.

"He could probably go for a three-pointer from the angle. It makes more sense than passing, no one's open." Kevin observed as the player, not brave enough, chucked the ball to a team-mate who was unable to make the catch, and it ended up with the other team. "Yeah, a three-pointer would have been better." He turned to his dad. "They're supposed to be professionals."

Kevin's dad looked genuinely alarmed. "I never knew you had such an interest in Basketball?"

Kevin grinned slyly, though his dad's eyes were fixed on the T.V again. He certainly had an interest in basketball players. "When I'm not busy with my many other hobbies I like to palm a few balls." He knew his dad wouldn't understand the innuendo.

"Well that's great, son, sport is very important."

Kevin repressed a giggle. "Yeah." He could just tell that he'd made his dad's night. He knew how desperate his dad was for a son who could discuss sport, acted masculine and always had a girlfriend. He also knew how his mom wanted a son who spent his whole life working, playing the violin, and training to be a doctor. Neither of those things were what Kevin wanted. Kevin wanted to take his art further, one day get a job designing sets for movies, his dream since he could first pick up a lightsaber.

"So are there any girls I should know about at the moment." Mr Stoley nudged Kevin. "I won't tell your mom if she wouldn't approve."

Kevin attempted to avoid the question. "Bradley had a date with someone. It went well I think, apart from when he spilt coke all over her dress..." Kevin cringed; Bradley had been mortified, even clumsier than Clyde when he got nervous.

"Bradley really? I always thought he might be one of those homosexuals, no offence to him."

"No, Bradley's not 'one of those homosexuals.'"

Kevin's dad nodded approvingly. "And what about you, are you seeing anyone?"

"Sure, dad, her name is Clyde. She's the captain of the basketball team. I'm madly in love with her."

His dad frowned. "Kevin, don't make jokes like that. It's unfair on the real homosexuals."

"Sorry dad." Kevin looked up at the clock, it read five past ten. "I think I'm going to bed."

"But the game hasn't finished."

"They're doomed to lose."

"They're winning!"

"Yeah, but look at that guy on the bench for the other team. He's their secret weapon, they introduce him soon, they change their tactics, and by now they've worked out the see-through plan of your team, who clearly have confidence issues. As soon as number seven reaches his time to shine, the scoreboard is going to flip." Kevin smiled. "I'd turn it off now if I were you. Night, dad."

It wasn't the nicest experience to walk into your bedroom and silently scream in shock at seeing your boyfriend lying on your bed in his pyjamas, holding a fairy cake and grinning, but on reflection, it wasn't the worst...

Kevin hastily shut his door and stared at Clyde. Clyde jumped up from the bed and bounded over, wrapping his arms around Kevin and almost squashing the cake. Kevin sighed. "Clyde, would you explain what you're doing please? My mom could have walked in on you!"

"Nahhh, I can detect the difference in your footsteps. Nothing gets past Ninja Clyde."

"Well good for Ninja Clyde, but you need to be careful."

"Dude, I'm Ninja Clyde."

Kevin sighed again, but smiled.

"I thought you might like a fairy cake! I've been baking." Clyde paused and tilted his head to the side looking guilty. "Well, my sister has been baking... I've been-uh-washing up and cursing chickens."

"Those damn chickens, what did they do now?" Kevin smiled and took the cake from Clyde, making short work of it because he was a teenage boy and always hungry. "Thank you," he said between bites. Damn, the cake was so moist yet light, and the chocolate icing was scrumptious. "That was delicious."

Clyde agreed. "It's my sister's dream to open a bakery."

"Tell her she has my full support, and probably a lot of my money if she can whip up cakes like that." Kevin moved his eyes up and down Clyde's attire. "So did you really run over here in your pyjamas to give me that cake or are you planning on staying?"

Clyde grinned. "Well, since you're offering."

Kevin nodded. "Let me just go get changed, kay? I need to use the bathroom."

He took his night-clothes with him and returned very quickly, now wearing his boxer shorts and a light blue t-shirt.

Kevin's departure had given Clyde the courage to bring up what he really wanted to say. He looked meaningfully into Kevin's eyes. "Bradley told me they used to hurt you."

Kevin bit his lip, dropping his clothes in his laundry hamper. "I know he did."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What could I have said?"

"You could have told me, rather than me thinking everything is alright."

Kevin ran his hand up the Jock's arm. "Everything is alright, Clyde. I don't want to live in the past."

Clyde grasped Kevin's hand in his desperately. "I want to know who it was!"

"No."

"You can't not tell me! God, Kevin, if I don't know then I'll just hate everybody. I have to know the people who have hurt you, because they don't deserve my time."

Kevin sighed, accepting Clyde was right. "I'm not really sure of their names; do you remember those guys we ran into getting the pasta?"

"Yeah."

"Them."

Clyde squeezed Kevin tight. "I've always hated them."

"I'm not their biggest fan."

Clyde whispered into Kevin's neck. "Anyone else, anyone from the Basketball team maybe?"

"Just that guy with the afro-uh- Chad or something? And the really tall one, taller than Craig even. Jason?"

Clyde clenched his fist. "Those assholes." He was relived Token's name hadn't come up though. "How can you stand to be with me when I've always been friends with them?"

"You never hurt me, and I can't judge you for your friends."

"Yeah, well, I'm not friends with them anymore."

"Don't let it affect your game, Clyde. It's only a few of them, not all. Most actually play basketball for the love of the sport, you need to remember that. I got through, we need to forget them."

"You're too amazing sometimes." Clyde decided to lighten the mood, which was feeling quite gloomy and serious. "Well, Kevin. I think we'll have to follow that age-old saying in the times to come."

Kevin smiled in relief, feeling curious at what his boyfriend was meaning. "Oh, and what's that, Clyde."

"If life gives you lemons... carry on." No wait, that didn't sound right. "If- When..."

Kevin laughed in amusement. "I think the saying is 'keep calm and make lemonade,'" he replied teasingly.

Clyde pouted in realisation of his error, but decided not to admit to it. "Both of them are good, take your pick." He walked towards the bed. "Is the alarm set for five?"

"Yep, as always." They hadn't been able to resist the privileges that living very near each other brought, one of them often ended up sleeping at the other's house. After close scrapes on one side, and almost no sleep on the other, they found that five was the ideal time to wake up and leave.

Clyde slipped under the covers of Kevin's bed, opening them up so his boyfriend could nestle in. "Get over here. I'm getting cold."

Kevin joined Clyde and the covers wrapped around the both of them. "Allow me to warm you up, sire."

"Yes peasant, do your job properly. I'm a very impatient King."

"Sire, I am not a peasant, I am a knight."

"I down-uh-downgraded you to peasant when you slept with Guinevere, or do you not remember that?"

"I remember that we ended up shooting her when she tried to ride away on the dragon." Kevin pleaded with his King, "That shows great teamwork, don't you think I've earned my knighthood back?" He moved his lips to meet with Clyde's earlobe, gently kissing it, moving his way down the Jock's jaw playfully. "I should get it back." He circled his lips around Clyde's teasingly, not letting them meet. "Give it to me."

"Give it to you?"

Kevin's eyes sparkled. "Yes."

Clyde drew Kevin's lips into his, kissing deeply. Kevin's response was almost lazy, letting Clyde do all the work as he laid there, eyes drifting closed. He felt warm and safe and happy and music began to play in his head. 'My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm.'

Clyde rubbed Kevin's back. "I think you're about to fall asleep, dude."

"Mmmm." Kevin buried his head into Clyde's chest at that moment, taking his soothing scent, the way he felt secure, encapsulated in protective arms.

"I make a good pillow don't I?"

"You're alright," teased Kevin.

Clyde frowned and jabbed Kevin in the side, causing him to jump and squeak in shock. Clyde laughed and did it again. "I make a good pillow, don't I?" Kevin clamped his hand over his mouth to stop Clyde's family hearing the squeals, but also so he didn't have to reply. Clyde continued to jab Kevin in the side. "Don't I!?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Kevin, stopping Clyde's hands and resting on the warm chest yet again, which really was a good pillow. "Oh Clyde I... " The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't go through with it, so scared to ruin everything. "...you're great."

Clyde sighed into Kevin's hair. "You're great too."

Kevin slowly drifted into unconsciousness, so content with cuddling his Jock that he started mumbling words into Clyde's chest, almost sleep-talking, but not quite. Clyde had grown to see that Kevin did this often, his fingers curled, his eyes closed, thick eyelashes gluing together which would then refuse to open without a lot of coaxing. Clyde could usually understand what Kevin said, simple things, what his plans were for tomorrow, how comfy he was, a few compliments here and there, some singing, but Clyde couldn't understand Kevin that night, because Kevin was whispering in Chinese.

"Gēn nǐ zài yīqǐ de shíhou hǎo kāixīn." His words were softly spoken, barely audible, not that it mattered. Clyde was drawn into Kevin's tones, without the need to know what he was saying. He closed his own eyes. His worries had lessened, Kevin was safe and happy. He'd not forget what his teammates and 'friends' had done, but he wouldn't dwell on it. He didn't want to become bitter, one of those people who wasted their lives in anger.

"Wǒ ài shàng nǐ le."

Clyde didn't know what Kevin had said, but decided that like always he probably agreed with it. "Night, Kevin." He sighed. "I love you."

But it was too late, Kevin was already sound asleep.

A/N: Well, K-man had to speak Chinese at some point. These translations are something along these lines...

Gēn nǐ zài yīqǐ de shíhou hǎo kāixīn. – When I'm with you I feel very happy.

Wǒ ài shàng nǐ le.- I've fallen in love with you.

I'd also like to give credit to Phil Collins. Thank you, dude. And thank you for my reviews, all you Stolovanites make me very happy.