Note: I don't know why, but many of you thought that TSFMS was complete with the last chapter. I never stated so, nor did I mark it as complete, so it was a mystery to me!
So, no, it's not finished, and there are still several chapters to come.
I thought I could go back to regular updates but work has been hell again, and then I left for London for one week of holidays.

And because I thought that maybe you'd like some more regular news about future updates, and also because FF seems to have a problem with sending updates mails to my subscribers, I'm now on Twitter!
You can find me there under xcloudbustingx

Mello
I could see Mail, a few rows down in the amphitheatre.
I looked at the empty seat next to me, the place that had become his usual place since we began to sit side by side during lessons, and a sigh escaped me. You're supposed to try to remember happy moments even when they're over, because after all, they made you happy once and it's better than nothing at all, but it's just wisdom out of a granny's mouth, the sad reality won't let it apply. The present hurt is always stronger than past happiness.

Something ticked my curiosity all of a sudden. Mail wasn't sat as usual, with his legs stretched and his back against the seat, looking like he wasn't listening to the teacher. Oh, he didn't seem to pay any more attention than usual, to the eye of a lambda person, but I could at least take pride in the fact that I knew better. He was the auditive kind, he registered every word the teacher said, and I could make the difference between his indifference tainted focus and the way he was totally absent minded right now.
But it wasn't that. He was hunched over the table, his chin resting on his hand, his elbow on the desk, staring at an inexistant something on the blackboard. The position was unusual, and I had never seen him that curled up on himself.
Whether he sat or walked, or even drove, his body always showed how open and cool he was (his past homophobia set aside). He was an outgoing person, and looked like he was. But what he looked like right now had nothing to do with what he was. Except if he was depressed...

My stomach twisted. What were we doing to ourselves and each other right now?
I suddenly stood up, not giving a fuck that the lesson had begun, and closed the distance between Mail and me.
"I'd appreciate that you sit down and don't disturb the whole amphitheatre, young lady." the old guy said in the microphone, interrupting his speech about ancient Roman wars as I was walking down the rows, staring at me with indignation.
My eyes automatically turned to Mail. Bingo. He was trying to muffle his laughter, head burried in his arm on the desk. So predictable...
The comment of the teacher, mistaking me for a chick, didn't make me laugh, but Mail laughing eased the anger. And I guess that even with his glasses, the old fart was blind as a mole, because my balls were so damn moulded in my leather pants that no one with a good sight would ever mistake me for a girl.

Matt
I didn't have time to protest, Mihael sat beside me, glaring at me until I could stop laughing.
For a moment, it felt like things were like before, and it felt good. It even felt right. But it wasn't. No, it wasn't right to entertain his hopes.
Fuck, it wasn't, most of all, right to lie to myself. I knew he had accepted there was no hope, but it was easier to take this as a reason for pushing him away. Because breaking a friendship on the sole idea that it may not serve him right in his future love life was... Stop. I had turned this over and over again in my mind, first trying to find reasons to go back to him and telling myself he was big enough to do things by himself, then reverting to what I had decided in the first place. It was for his own good damnit!

"Finished mocking me or is it the main activity of the day?" he suddenly spat. I could see a real hidden anger in his eyes, for some unknown reason.
"Sorry, I'm not mocking you, it's just that when I saw you this morning on your bike, at the redlight, I found you sexy because I thought you were a chick. And now this... I was so telling myself that you'd have exulted to know that for once I thought you were hot!" It was true, I hadn't been mocking him, it was the total opposite actually, it was funny to think that he would have mocked me for drooling over him.

He looked at me puzzled, then flashed his oh-so-much-like-him smirk. "I knew I was hot on that bike." And he got back to the lesson and his notes like if nothing happened.
I stayed silent during the rest of the morning, barely caring for Roman wars, with Mihael's screeching pen being one of the rare sounds with the teacher's voice.

When the bell rang noon, I stood up and quickly walked away as Mihael gathered his stuff.
He called me as he was still crossing the amphitheatre and I was at the door. I turned around, I needed to tell him things hadn't changed, that we shouldn't hang out together again, that I was doing this for him.
Oh, his look... I didn't have to say anything, he knew what I was thinking. And he didn't need to utter a word either, I understood the hope he had that we could go back to normal, that I just shattered, and how hurt he was.
For a second, I felt like hugging him. Wait, WTF?
I'd say that was gay, but that would be insulting, so I'd only say it was weird to get that kind of vibe. Well, guys hug sometimes, right? A manly bear hug, of course...

He slowly walked to me, as I was still standing next to the exit, hesitating like if each step he took would make me runaway like a frightened deer.
I knew I should be leaving, but I couldn't. His eyes got me glued to the ground.
As he came close, I shook my head, looking away from his sad expression. It was so unnatural for him to show any feeling that I knew the hurt was deep, if he didn't control how his whole features expressed it.
"Mihael..." I began.
"Please, don't serve me anymore of your bullshit Mail, I can take care of myself, you don't have to protect me. If anything, it makes me want to show you who's the man in this relationship."
There, take a serious situation and turn it to a joke. That's Mihael. Even hurt, he keeps his humour. Some kind of self defense, I guess.
I chuckled. But it couldn't be like this.
"Mihael..." I tried again, "Really, what would you feel if you saw me with a chick... worse, what if we hung out together and I brought a date with me? You'd feel bad, don't you? And how could your feelings for me disappear if we're always together?"
He rolled his eyes. "Listen, running away from me will only make me chase you more. We're friends, and you're not gay, I've processed that, you know. Don't insult me by thinking I'd hurt myself more than I can take it. What hurts me the most is not being with my best friend, ok?"
Best friend? I smiled. This simple statement coming out of his mouth made me happier than I had ever been before.
Our relationship was so weird that I had often wondered if he considered me as a real friend, so being considered his best friend was erasing many doubts and setting a new light on things.

Mello
I just called him my best friend, when I didn't even know if he considered me as a true friend at all. But when he flashed his big genuine smile, it didn't only melt me as usual, it also settled our relationship to something strong and important, and it was now known by both of us as a sure thing.

The fuzzy feeling didn't last long though.
"And so as your best friend, I have to do it, Mihael. How could you get a date with a guy you may like if I'm always around you? People may even think we're together and no guy interested in you would come near!" Mail tried to find some more excuses, but there was no chance I bought them.
"So is it the real matter? That people think you're gay too?" I said, more spiteful than I meant it, because I knew he was only trying to find an escape route.
"You know I'm way past caring about that Mihael. It's not forever, come on, let's just try to calm things down until you get over me, it can't be that long!"
I was tired of this shit. For once, I knew I wouldn't win this battle, Mail was as hard headed as me, which was saying something, and although I knew I would never get over him, for the simple reason that I knew it was much more than a crush, I could always pretend I had in a few days or weeks and we could go back to normal.
I retaliated on a bored "ok" and walked passed him. Better start now for it to end soon.

I suspected him to park in another lot the next days because I didn't see him except from far away, as he arrived late at every lesson and sat at the farthest seat away from me each time. But he never failed to greet me with a faint smile every morning, before ignoring me the rest of the time.

On wednesday evening, I took my first shift at the disco-bar where I had been hired. It was overall nice though really tiring to work from 7pm to 5am non stop. The music was not always to my tastes, a lot of dance music, techno, but a good part was rock music, which eased my annoyed ears. I quickly felt at ease behind my counter, and my experience made it not so difficult to serve the various drinks I was asked for all night long.
What was funny was that several gays came to the club and most of them tried to catch my attention. One could have been a nice fuck, he was cute enough, but I had other things in mind...

On friday afternoon, the owner of the club called me to ask me to dress a little fancier because I was dressed too casually on wednesday. He didn't exactly say it, but the way he stuttered, not daring to say it, he meant sexier. I had come in black jeans and black tee shirt the first night, not knowing if my leather would fit in the place, but I went for it on friday night, I felt better in leather anyway (not that I wasn't sexy in jeans, mind you).

I understood the point of his call a few minutes after I took my shift behind the bar.
The gay guys from wednesday were all there, and more and more kept on coming, all of them doing a once over to me in an appreciative way.
The owner of the club was using me to bring more customers. Flattering. But quite whoring too. Well, at least, he wasn't homophobic.

I chatted with some of these guys while I was working, it made time pass more quickly. Some were quite nice, but some were real pigs, doing nasty comments about how they'd screw me in the toilets and stuff. Usually, a glare was enough to cut them straight.
But one followed me in said toilets as I had to take a piss, I had to make him understand with my fists that I wasn't interested. The one way fight (like he would have had a chance to touch me...) had at least the merit to warn anyone present that I wasn't taking shit from anyone.
But it resulted in even more attempts to seduce me, mostly among people that were typical bottoms. And from girls as well (insert facepalm here).
I briefly wondered if the club was meant to become a gay club, at that moment.

Of course, OF COURSE, Mail had to come to the club on saturday evening. With a date.