Tommy stood in front of his mother's vanity and deftly slid the black pencil across his eyelid applying it in a thin line above his lashes. It was the final touch as he stood back and surveyed his work, rather dissatisfied. He thought his eyes were too wide, and there was nothing he could do with his dark mop of hair. It sprung out in all directions and he had wispy sideburns that drove him insane. He knew people thought he was cute, but he definitely saw room for improvement.
He frowned slightly and pinched at his stomach.
His mother entered then, saw him preening in front of her mirror, and immediately wanted to know what he was up to. Normally he would have told her, but he felt like she would suddenly disapprove of him.
"Thompson." She warned as he didn't instantly reply to her entreaty.
He held up his two nicest shirts instead.
"Blue or red?" He asked.
"Red." She decided. "It brings out the color in your cheeks. What's going on? Do you have a date?" She couldn't hide the excitement in her voice. If only she knew, he thought.
"No," Tommy said aloud. "I'm just going out. To the cinema, with a friend, you know?"
"Oh!" She winked. "A girl friend?"
"Don't say that." He faced her. "I'm going with Richey Blume."
"The boy you have a crush on?" She observed.
"Do you remember every bloody word that comes out of my mouth?" He felt himself snap back at her, instantly on the defensive. He didn't know why he was so annoyed. He loved his mother, and he hated keeping things from her, especially things that were as huge as a fledgling relationship. There were circumstances beyond his control though. Richard had asked him not to tell, and he wasn't going to. If it ever got back to the Blumes there would certainly be hell to pay, and Tommy was not willing to be the cause of that.
"It's my job to remember. I'm your mother." She informed him.
"It's not a date," he muttered. "I told you he wasn't interested."
"That's why you're making yourself pretty and wearing your favorite shirts?"
"Just drop it, Mum!" He nearly shouted at her.
She looked a bit hurt at his outburst, but he didn't really care at that point.
"I'm already late," Tommy announced as he stomped from the room and left her alone.
So, Madeline thought to herself, the teenage rebellion has started. It was much more complicated though. only that morning her employer Mrs. Elizabeth Caughton-Blume made her presence known at her sister in-law's office where Madeline was the secretary. There had been no hiding from the woman's rage as she loudly unloaded her anger upon a dismayed Bunny Caughton. It seemed as though she'd received her own phone call from the Academy in regards to a truant son. Madeline sighed nervously and padded up the stairs to Tommy's room.
--
They had been standing at the entrance to the cinema arguing with each other for nearly twenty minutes. Tommy was insistent on paying, but Richard was having none of it. Films were expensive in the city and he knew very well that Tommy couldn't afford it. The business of being in a relationship was already exhausting, and he finally relented long enough to agree to split the cost. Before he knew it, Tommy had shelled out the £22 for both tickets. Richard was angry, but there wasn't really anything he could do. It only went downhill from there.
Richard had decided on harvesting lollipops and various sweets from the snack stand as Tommy glanced over his shoulder.
"Those are all purple," he noted.
"I like purple," was Richard's short reply.
"I don't." Tommy petulantly crossed his arms. Richard had just about enough and spun around to face him.
"Look if you don't like purple then buy your own, Daddy Warbucks."
"Daddy Warbucks?" Tommy snorted.
Richard ignored Tommy and returned his attention to the stand where he began harvesting grape flavored candies of all types at a faster rate that was only serving to greater incense the boyfriend. Richard didn't care, and inexplicably Tommy became further enraged.
"You'd better not eat those," he warned.
"I'll eat them all," Richard declared and removed a sweet from the bag, unwrapped it, and tossed it into his mouth with a crunch. "Yum, yum!" he said as he patted his stomach.
They watched the film and didn't say a word to each other. The only sound between them was Richard slurping determinedly on the candy. Tommy even went so far as to leave a seat between them and they didn't speak again until they were standing in the foyer of Tommy's building. At that point Richard had apparently given up on agitating him and apologized profusely.
"Fine," Tommy muttered. Richard stood in front of him, unsure if he should attempt a goodnight kiss or not, but Tommy saved him the trouble
of a decision.
"Don't. You even smell like a grape," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry. I just..." Richard trailed off. "You should have let me pay. You can't afford it, Tom."
"Well you can pay for our next date," he replied. "And all the ones after that because I'm skint now."
"You want to go through that again?" Richard was incredulous. "That was the worst experience I've ever had with you."
"Even worse than McDonalds?" Tommy wondered with a glint in his eye. He was joking. They were back to normal.
"Okay." Richard conceded. "The second worst!"
Tommy laughed and took hold of Richard's hands. "I should have explained."
"Yeah." Richard pulled him closer. "What is so horrible about grape?"
Tommy grimaced. He felt embarrassed and silly but was beginning to trust that he could tell Richard anything and not be completely ridiculed.
"Grape flavoring, sweets and such...It makes me violently ill," he admitted. "I hate it. My doctor says it's all in my head, but it makes me sick and everything."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Richard wailed. "That's why you wouldn't sit near me? Now I won't even get to say goodnight proper!"
"Yeah," he muttered sheepishly. "I thought you would think I was stupid."
"I would never think that." Richard sighed. "You should have just told me you have fake-grape-a-phobia! I wouldn't think any less of you."
"I am stupid," Tommy growled. "Kiss me anyway. I'll try not to pass out, and I don't think I can go all night without it!"
"Tom," he warned. "I ate the whole fucking bag. I think I might be sick myself."
"Wait until you get home."
Tommy let Richard kiss him and it was awful. His breath was hot and sticky from the sugary sweets and Tommy began to swoon as soon as their lips connected. Richard sensed this and pulled away.
"I'm sorry." He apologized. "It will be better next time." He took Tommy's head in his hands and stared into his eyes while stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. Tommy instantly relaxed and closed his eyes. Richard's touch was soft and felt so good against his hot flesh.
"I love you." Tommy found himself murmuring. He couldn't say it enough, and he hoped it wouldn't freak Richard out.
"I love you too, Thompson," he reciprocated before kissing him on the forehead then wiping it away with the sleeve of his jacket. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."
Tommy just nodded with what he was sure must have been the goofiest smile he'd ever sported upon his face. Richard grinned back and blew him another kiss before departing. Tommy nearly skipped back to his flat.
"How was your date?" His mother asked when he popped into the kitchen with the beatific expression still on his face.
"It was great, mum," He chattered. The date, though horrifying most of the way through, had ended on such a high note that he was practically glowing and had completely forgotten that he'd told his mother it wasn't a date. "Besides the grape lollipops, but he said it. He said he loves me back!"
"Hmmm," she pondered. "From a non-date to declarations of love?"
"Oh, shit." Tommy snapped out of his love induced haze to stare at her. She sat at the kitchen table tapping an opened box of condoms upon it and gazing expectantly at him. Of all the things he had remembered to straighten out in his room he couldn't believe he'd forgotten to put them back in the drawer.
"I did laundry. Since when do you own a pair of red boxer-briefs?" She arched her eyebrows.
He began to blush from embarrassment. If melting away into a puddle on the floor was a viable option he would have done just that. They hadn't actually gone that far, but they certainly had thought about it for a long enough period of time to open the box before deciding to wait. He didn't want to talk about it with his mother though. He didn't even want to think about it with her in the same room.
"We didn't do anything." He shifted nervously. "You can count them if you like."
She glared at him and he was beginning to feel a bit demoralized as a number of scenarios floated through his mind. She wouldn't let them continue to see each other. She would call Richard's mother. She already had called his mother and Elizabeth wouldn't let them continue, or maybe she would even send Richard back to boarding school. Anything was possible. Madeline wasn't responding though. She was staring straight through him, seemingly in shock.
"Mum?" He asked with trepidation. "Say something, please?"
"How long has this been going on?" She asked, finally snapping out of her daze.
"Since yesterday," he muttered. "I mean we haven't shagged or anything, only a bit of a wank..." Tommy winced as he realized that was entirely too much information to be sharing and would probably only serve to make the situation that much worse. He could tell because his mother had turned a ghostly white color.
"You know this boy comes from wealth," she pointed out. "This is the highest upper crust of society, Thompson."
"And we're mad for each other. It doesn't matter," Tommy declared, wondering if that was the only thing she was worried about.
"She's a very powerful woman," Madeline said. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"You're not going to tell?" He gasped in disbelief.
"Elizabeth Blume is not a very nice woman," Madeline said. "I'm not going to step in on her behalf certainly. I just want to ask you one thing...Is there anything I can do to stop you from," she made a slight noise of displeasure before continuing and holding the box up. "Actually using one of these? I know we've had the talk, but I think you're too young for this."
"Probably not," Tommy replied truthfully and frowned, feeling very unsure of where the conversation was heading. "We really want to."
"Then I want to meet him," She said.
"You have met him," Tommy replied. "That one time."
"For five seconds! If you're going to have a serious boyfriend?" She said it as if it were a question.
Tommy nodded positively. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me. I swear."
Madeline sighed at Tommy's emphatic declaration. "Then I definitely want to meet the person who's stolen my son's heart away."
--
"Hi, lover," Tommy greeted him with a quick smooch and a glance over his shoulder. "Where's Nige?" He wasn't actually surprised that Nigel wasn't there, but he was extremely disappointed.
"He doesn't want to hang out with you right now," Richard admitted nervously. "You got him in massive trouble yesterday."
"He started it!" Tommy grumbled.
"I'm afraid this is my fault," Richard admitted. "I came between you both. I'm really sorry."
"Nigel thinks I'm some kind of perv," Tommy said. "So fuck him, okay? It's not your fault."
"You've been friends since you moved to London." Richard sensed Tommy's disappointment. "You're really upset about this."
"Yeah." Tommy frowned. "Yeah. He really doesn't believe that I love you, and he called me the most despicable things, Rich. I heard him call me a slapper and a bastard. I don't know what his problem is, but I think it will get better if I just don't talk to him for a while."
"Okay," Richard worriedly replied. "Maybe you're right, but I just can't help but feel like bloody Yoko ono."
Tommy giggled slightly. "Look, it's not your fault he's gone insane. Let's go."
Richard followed him down the street, watching him move with every step, admiring him. He probably could have stayed a step behind checking him out for the entire rest of the walk had Tommy not turned around and given him the hugest grin he could muster.
"Did you forget something yesterday?" Tommy's dark brown hair had become disheveled and was fluttering in the early morning breeze.
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know..." Tommy rolled his eyes. "Let's see, they're red, and I really can't believe you don't remember."
"My pants!" Richard gasped.
"Yes! I have a lot of pink undergarments to answer for!" Tommy giggled as he pulled them out of his jacket pocket and tossed them over.
"My mum found them in the washing," he laughed an explanation upon seeing the look of mortification up Richard's face.
"People are watching us," he hissed and glanced around at the early morning work crowd.
"Nobody's watching us." Tommy rolled his eyes.
"Didn't she know they weren't yours?"
"Yeah, she knows," he sighed.
"And she doesn't care?"
"We have her blessing," Tommy informed him. "She wants to meet you proper though. She says if I'm going to have a serious boyfriend then she wants to get to know him. She doesn't want us to have sex anymore than we already have, but she says that she'd rather us be safe and at home then off somewhere else. I had to sit there and talk about this with her for, like, hours. You think tossing your underpants about in public is embarrassing just try talking about sex...gay sex with your mother."
"I can't even imagine," Richard replied rather numbly. He really had no comprehension that an adult could ever be so tolerant and understanding. His mother would have rather locked him up and thrown away the key, he was sure.
"If you aren't busy would tonight be good?"
"I don't know," Richard stammered. "I'm not sure...I don't know..."
"You don't feel comfortable," Tommy grabbed hold of his hand and began swinging their arms back and forth. "You don't feel comfortable being openly affectionate with another boy. I understand, though you're going to have to face her. She wants to make sure you're as wonderful as I say you are and that you're not corrupting me."
Richard couldn't help but smile as he reclaimed his hand and said. "Me? Corrupt you?"
Tommy's playful mood suddenly evaporated and he grumbled a bit before facing the ground. Richard could sense that he'd said something wrong.
"What?"
Tommy reached up and covered his eyes with his hands. Richard couldn't believe it. The Tommy Sinclair who was strong enough to stand up to bullies and confidently wear eyeliner in spite of the incessant whisperings, was standing beside him sobbing. Richard looked around, thinking that it was utter disaster. Tommy was quickly losing his composure and all Richard wanted to do was hold him, but they couldn't very well do that on a crowded street. So Richard pulled him into the nearest office building and found the lobby toilet. Tommy didn't even know why he was crying, he just couldn't stop and the worse he felt about it the harder the tears fell. He was glad Richard had pulled him off the street as he lost it. He fell against the wall, sank to the ground, and was completely wailing at that point. Richard sat down beside him and held him until he was finally able to speak.
"Everybody thinks I'm awful," Tommy sobbed. "I'm not a bad person am I?"
"No you're not," Richard said. "You're so confident and beautiful. Everybody looks up to you. Everybody loves you, and the ones that say they don't are just jealous."
Tommy pulled away from him and wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his jacket. He looked up Richard, who's face was filled with pain. He wondered if he ever looked that way when Richard was hurting.
"Rich, you're the only one who 'loves' me. I know what they call me," he said. "I won't repeat it as I'm sure you can imagine. They point and laugh at me and what am I supposed to do? Let on that it bothers me? Well, I can't because that means they win and I won't let them win, but it doesn't mean that I'm strong. It doesn't mean that I'm confident, does it? When I go home and cry myself to sleep nearly every night. Not even my mother knows that. Nobody does. I'm just this weird freakish little fairy boy, and you know maybe I'm starting to believe some of the things that I hear because when my own best friend believes all that shit over my own word..."
"Shut up," Richard cried. "You aren't any of those things. You're my hero. I'll never be able to do what you do every day. You aren't a bad person, Thompson."
"I'm glad somebody thinks so," Tommy muttered. He sighed again and nestled snugly against Richard, who was holding him close and didn't seem to be willing to let go.
After a moment Tommy wrenched himself away from the grasp and stood up. He took one shuddering breath and turned towards the large mirror above the bank of sinks.
"Look at me." He inspected the reflection before him. The eyeliner that he had so carefully applied was streaked across his face from where he had rubbed the tears away from his eyes, his cheeks were splotchy and red, a perfect match for his eyes, his nose was running, and he could feel the inevitable pounding headache creeping up on him. He sniffed and frowned then pulled at his wind blown hair.
"I look a mess," he murmured. "I can't possibly go to school looking like this."
Richard stood up from his spot on the floor and stood behind Tommy. He placed his hands on Tommy's shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed him softly on the cheek.
"You look fine," Richard said.
Tommy half giggled, half sobbed at him, and they smiled at each other through the reflection.
"Here," Richard held up a handkerchief which he had pulled from his back pocket. "You'll be fine."
Tommy accepted the cloth over his shoulder. He inspected it momentarily then stifled another giggle.
"I'm happy to provide you amusement, Tom, but What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Tommy replied. "It's just... only you would carry around a handkerchief."
He frowned slightly and pinched at his stomach.
His mother entered then, saw him preening in front of her mirror, and immediately wanted to know what he was up to. Normally he would have told her, but he felt like she would suddenly disapprove of him.
"Thompson." She warned as he didn't instantly reply to her entreaty.
He held up his two nicest shirts instead.
"Blue or red?" He asked.
"Red." She decided. "It brings out the color in your cheeks. What's going on? Do you have a date?" She couldn't hide the excitement in her voice. If only she knew, he thought.
"No," Tommy said aloud. "I'm just going out. To the cinema, with a friend, you know?"
"Oh!" She winked. "A girl friend?"
"Don't say that." He faced her. "I'm going with Richey Blume."
"The boy you have a crush on?" She observed.
"Do you remember every bloody word that comes out of my mouth?" He felt himself snap back at her, instantly on the defensive. He didn't know why he was so annoyed. He loved his mother, and he hated keeping things from her, especially things that were as huge as a fledgling relationship. There were circumstances beyond his control though. Richard had asked him not to tell, and he wasn't going to. If it ever got back to the Blumes there would certainly be hell to pay, and Tommy was not willing to be the cause of that.
"It's my job to remember. I'm your mother." She informed him.
"It's not a date," he muttered. "I told you he wasn't interested."
"That's why you're making yourself pretty and wearing your favorite shirts?"
"Just drop it, Mum!" He nearly shouted at her.
She looked a bit hurt at his outburst, but he didn't really care at that point.
"I'm already late," Tommy announced as he stomped from the room and left her alone.
So, Madeline thought to herself, the teenage rebellion has started. It was much more complicated though. only that morning her employer Mrs. Elizabeth Caughton-Blume made her presence known at her sister in-law's office where Madeline was the secretary. There had been no hiding from the woman's rage as she loudly unloaded her anger upon a dismayed Bunny Caughton. It seemed as though she'd received her own phone call from the Academy in regards to a truant son. Madeline sighed nervously and padded up the stairs to Tommy's room.
--
They had been standing at the entrance to the cinema arguing with each other for nearly twenty minutes. Tommy was insistent on paying, but Richard was having none of it. Films were expensive in the city and he knew very well that Tommy couldn't afford it. The business of being in a relationship was already exhausting, and he finally relented long enough to agree to split the cost. Before he knew it, Tommy had shelled out the £22 for both tickets. Richard was angry, but there wasn't really anything he could do. It only went downhill from there.
Richard had decided on harvesting lollipops and various sweets from the snack stand as Tommy glanced over his shoulder.
"Those are all purple," he noted.
"I like purple," was Richard's short reply.
"I don't." Tommy petulantly crossed his arms. Richard had just about enough and spun around to face him.
"Look if you don't like purple then buy your own, Daddy Warbucks."
"Daddy Warbucks?" Tommy snorted.
Richard ignored Tommy and returned his attention to the stand where he began harvesting grape flavored candies of all types at a faster rate that was only serving to greater incense the boyfriend. Richard didn't care, and inexplicably Tommy became further enraged.
"You'd better not eat those," he warned.
"I'll eat them all," Richard declared and removed a sweet from the bag, unwrapped it, and tossed it into his mouth with a crunch. "Yum, yum!" he said as he patted his stomach.
They watched the film and didn't say a word to each other. The only sound between them was Richard slurping determinedly on the candy. Tommy even went so far as to leave a seat between them and they didn't speak again until they were standing in the foyer of Tommy's building. At that point Richard had apparently given up on agitating him and apologized profusely.
"Fine," Tommy muttered. Richard stood in front of him, unsure if he should attempt a goodnight kiss or not, but Tommy saved him the trouble
of a decision.
"Don't. You even smell like a grape," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry. I just..." Richard trailed off. "You should have let me pay. You can't afford it, Tom."
"Well you can pay for our next date," he replied. "And all the ones after that because I'm skint now."
"You want to go through that again?" Richard was incredulous. "That was the worst experience I've ever had with you."
"Even worse than McDonalds?" Tommy wondered with a glint in his eye. He was joking. They were back to normal.
"Okay." Richard conceded. "The second worst!"
Tommy laughed and took hold of Richard's hands. "I should have explained."
"Yeah." Richard pulled him closer. "What is so horrible about grape?"
Tommy grimaced. He felt embarrassed and silly but was beginning to trust that he could tell Richard anything and not be completely ridiculed.
"Grape flavoring, sweets and such...It makes me violently ill," he admitted. "I hate it. My doctor says it's all in my head, but it makes me sick and everything."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Richard wailed. "That's why you wouldn't sit near me? Now I won't even get to say goodnight proper!"
"Yeah," he muttered sheepishly. "I thought you would think I was stupid."
"I would never think that." Richard sighed. "You should have just told me you have fake-grape-a-phobia! I wouldn't think any less of you."
"I am stupid," Tommy growled. "Kiss me anyway. I'll try not to pass out, and I don't think I can go all night without it!"
"Tom," he warned. "I ate the whole fucking bag. I think I might be sick myself."
"Wait until you get home."
Tommy let Richard kiss him and it was awful. His breath was hot and sticky from the sugary sweets and Tommy began to swoon as soon as their lips connected. Richard sensed this and pulled away.
"I'm sorry." He apologized. "It will be better next time." He took Tommy's head in his hands and stared into his eyes while stroking his cheeks with his thumbs. Tommy instantly relaxed and closed his eyes. Richard's touch was soft and felt so good against his hot flesh.
"I love you." Tommy found himself murmuring. He couldn't say it enough, and he hoped it wouldn't freak Richard out.
"I love you too, Thompson," he reciprocated before kissing him on the forehead then wiping it away with the sleeve of his jacket. "I'll see you in class tomorrow."
Tommy just nodded with what he was sure must have been the goofiest smile he'd ever sported upon his face. Richard grinned back and blew him another kiss before departing. Tommy nearly skipped back to his flat.
"How was your date?" His mother asked when he popped into the kitchen with the beatific expression still on his face.
"It was great, mum," He chattered. The date, though horrifying most of the way through, had ended on such a high note that he was practically glowing and had completely forgotten that he'd told his mother it wasn't a date. "Besides the grape lollipops, but he said it. He said he loves me back!"
"Hmmm," she pondered. "From a non-date to declarations of love?"
"Oh, shit." Tommy snapped out of his love induced haze to stare at her. She sat at the kitchen table tapping an opened box of condoms upon it and gazing expectantly at him. Of all the things he had remembered to straighten out in his room he couldn't believe he'd forgotten to put them back in the drawer.
"I did laundry. Since when do you own a pair of red boxer-briefs?" She arched her eyebrows.
He began to blush from embarrassment. If melting away into a puddle on the floor was a viable option he would have done just that. They hadn't actually gone that far, but they certainly had thought about it for a long enough period of time to open the box before deciding to wait. He didn't want to talk about it with his mother though. He didn't even want to think about it with her in the same room.
"We didn't do anything." He shifted nervously. "You can count them if you like."
She glared at him and he was beginning to feel a bit demoralized as a number of scenarios floated through his mind. She wouldn't let them continue to see each other. She would call Richard's mother. She already had called his mother and Elizabeth wouldn't let them continue, or maybe she would even send Richard back to boarding school. Anything was possible. Madeline wasn't responding though. She was staring straight through him, seemingly in shock.
"Mum?" He asked with trepidation. "Say something, please?"
"How long has this been going on?" She asked, finally snapping out of her daze.
"Since yesterday," he muttered. "I mean we haven't shagged or anything, only a bit of a wank..." Tommy winced as he realized that was entirely too much information to be sharing and would probably only serve to make the situation that much worse. He could tell because his mother had turned a ghostly white color.
"You know this boy comes from wealth," she pointed out. "This is the highest upper crust of society, Thompson."
"And we're mad for each other. It doesn't matter," Tommy declared, wondering if that was the only thing she was worried about.
"She's a very powerful woman," Madeline said. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"You're not going to tell?" He gasped in disbelief.
"Elizabeth Blume is not a very nice woman," Madeline said. "I'm not going to step in on her behalf certainly. I just want to ask you one thing...Is there anything I can do to stop you from," she made a slight noise of displeasure before continuing and holding the box up. "Actually using one of these? I know we've had the talk, but I think you're too young for this."
"Probably not," Tommy replied truthfully and frowned, feeling very unsure of where the conversation was heading. "We really want to."
"Then I want to meet him," She said.
"You have met him," Tommy replied. "That one time."
"For five seconds! If you're going to have a serious boyfriend?" She said it as if it were a question.
Tommy nodded positively. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me. I swear."
Madeline sighed at Tommy's emphatic declaration. "Then I definitely want to meet the person who's stolen my son's heart away."
--
"Hi, lover," Tommy greeted him with a quick smooch and a glance over his shoulder. "Where's Nige?" He wasn't actually surprised that Nigel wasn't there, but he was extremely disappointed.
"He doesn't want to hang out with you right now," Richard admitted nervously. "You got him in massive trouble yesterday."
"He started it!" Tommy grumbled.
"I'm afraid this is my fault," Richard admitted. "I came between you both. I'm really sorry."
"Nigel thinks I'm some kind of perv," Tommy said. "So fuck him, okay? It's not your fault."
"You've been friends since you moved to London." Richard sensed Tommy's disappointment. "You're really upset about this."
"Yeah." Tommy frowned. "Yeah. He really doesn't believe that I love you, and he called me the most despicable things, Rich. I heard him call me a slapper and a bastard. I don't know what his problem is, but I think it will get better if I just don't talk to him for a while."
"Okay," Richard worriedly replied. "Maybe you're right, but I just can't help but feel like bloody Yoko ono."
Tommy giggled slightly. "Look, it's not your fault he's gone insane. Let's go."
Richard followed him down the street, watching him move with every step, admiring him. He probably could have stayed a step behind checking him out for the entire rest of the walk had Tommy not turned around and given him the hugest grin he could muster.
"Did you forget something yesterday?" Tommy's dark brown hair had become disheveled and was fluttering in the early morning breeze.
"Like what?"
"Oh, I don't know..." Tommy rolled his eyes. "Let's see, they're red, and I really can't believe you don't remember."
"My pants!" Richard gasped.
"Yes! I have a lot of pink undergarments to answer for!" Tommy giggled as he pulled them out of his jacket pocket and tossed them over.
"My mum found them in the washing," he laughed an explanation upon seeing the look of mortification up Richard's face.
"People are watching us," he hissed and glanced around at the early morning work crowd.
"Nobody's watching us." Tommy rolled his eyes.
"Didn't she know they weren't yours?"
"Yeah, she knows," he sighed.
"And she doesn't care?"
"We have her blessing," Tommy informed him. "She wants to meet you proper though. She says if I'm going to have a serious boyfriend then she wants to get to know him. She doesn't want us to have sex anymore than we already have, but she says that she'd rather us be safe and at home then off somewhere else. I had to sit there and talk about this with her for, like, hours. You think tossing your underpants about in public is embarrassing just try talking about sex...gay sex with your mother."
"I can't even imagine," Richard replied rather numbly. He really had no comprehension that an adult could ever be so tolerant and understanding. His mother would have rather locked him up and thrown away the key, he was sure.
"If you aren't busy would tonight be good?"
"I don't know," Richard stammered. "I'm not sure...I don't know..."
"You don't feel comfortable," Tommy grabbed hold of his hand and began swinging their arms back and forth. "You don't feel comfortable being openly affectionate with another boy. I understand, though you're going to have to face her. She wants to make sure you're as wonderful as I say you are and that you're not corrupting me."
Richard couldn't help but smile as he reclaimed his hand and said. "Me? Corrupt you?"
Tommy's playful mood suddenly evaporated and he grumbled a bit before facing the ground. Richard could sense that he'd said something wrong.
"What?"
Tommy reached up and covered his eyes with his hands. Richard couldn't believe it. The Tommy Sinclair who was strong enough to stand up to bullies and confidently wear eyeliner in spite of the incessant whisperings, was standing beside him sobbing. Richard looked around, thinking that it was utter disaster. Tommy was quickly losing his composure and all Richard wanted to do was hold him, but they couldn't very well do that on a crowded street. So Richard pulled him into the nearest office building and found the lobby toilet. Tommy didn't even know why he was crying, he just couldn't stop and the worse he felt about it the harder the tears fell. He was glad Richard had pulled him off the street as he lost it. He fell against the wall, sank to the ground, and was completely wailing at that point. Richard sat down beside him and held him until he was finally able to speak.
"Everybody thinks I'm awful," Tommy sobbed. "I'm not a bad person am I?"
"No you're not," Richard said. "You're so confident and beautiful. Everybody looks up to you. Everybody loves you, and the ones that say they don't are just jealous."
Tommy pulled away from him and wiped his tears away with the sleeve of his jacket. He looked up Richard, who's face was filled with pain. He wondered if he ever looked that way when Richard was hurting.
"Rich, you're the only one who 'loves' me. I know what they call me," he said. "I won't repeat it as I'm sure you can imagine. They point and laugh at me and what am I supposed to do? Let on that it bothers me? Well, I can't because that means they win and I won't let them win, but it doesn't mean that I'm strong. It doesn't mean that I'm confident, does it? When I go home and cry myself to sleep nearly every night. Not even my mother knows that. Nobody does. I'm just this weird freakish little fairy boy, and you know maybe I'm starting to believe some of the things that I hear because when my own best friend believes all that shit over my own word..."
"Shut up," Richard cried. "You aren't any of those things. You're my hero. I'll never be able to do what you do every day. You aren't a bad person, Thompson."
"I'm glad somebody thinks so," Tommy muttered. He sighed again and nestled snugly against Richard, who was holding him close and didn't seem to be willing to let go.
After a moment Tommy wrenched himself away from the grasp and stood up. He took one shuddering breath and turned towards the large mirror above the bank of sinks.
"Look at me." He inspected the reflection before him. The eyeliner that he had so carefully applied was streaked across his face from where he had rubbed the tears away from his eyes, his cheeks were splotchy and red, a perfect match for his eyes, his nose was running, and he could feel the inevitable pounding headache creeping up on him. He sniffed and frowned then pulled at his wind blown hair.
"I look a mess," he murmured. "I can't possibly go to school looking like this."
Richard stood up from his spot on the floor and stood behind Tommy. He placed his hands on Tommy's shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed him softly on the cheek.
"You look fine," Richard said.
Tommy half giggled, half sobbed at him, and they smiled at each other through the reflection.
"Here," Richard held up a handkerchief which he had pulled from his back pocket. "You'll be fine."
Tommy accepted the cloth over his shoulder. He inspected it momentarily then stifled another giggle.
"I'm happy to provide you amusement, Tom, but What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Tommy replied. "It's just... only you would carry around a handkerchief."
