Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Frown found his lunch in his lap after his tray was slapped by the school bully. Not a surprise, considering this wasn’t the first time this happened and, likely, not the last. He used all his strength not to completely explode on the kid that slapped his tray, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t yell a little.
    Frown may have be an absolute jerk sometimes, but he was no high school bully, because even jerks have standards. Luckily, his best friend wasn’t far behind and helped the taco-covered-teen clean himself up. 
   One change of clothes later, Frown was clean again- if only his dignity could be just as easily restored. He was wearing a t-shirt provided to him by the nurse, they always had clothing from the lost and found, and if it wasn’t claimed within a month, it was washed and went to a “extra clothes” bin. The shirt he was now sporting was white with a rainbow stripe across both sleeves. It was, most definitely, too big and smelt..sweaty?? Okay, maybe they weren’t washed before going in the bin.. 
  He could of swore he heard a giggle from the kid behind him, but a suggestive remark was awarded to the kid in return from Frown, sincerely. The class was boring, as always. Definitely not easy, being that it was algebra 2, but still boring. Just another dumb lesson that no one would use after final exams. His eyes found their way over to Brock not long after the class had settled in their seats. They had been friends forever, it seemed. They were always very close, too. Frown couldn’t lie, Brock was easy to look at. His eyes traced his side profile, examining his braids that grazed the tip of his shoulder, then landing on his emerald eyes. They glistened in the lighting, quite beautiful it was. Frown only realized he was staring when Brock looked over his shoulder at him with a soft smile. He turns away with a quiet pink painted over his cheeks. 
  Perhaps he had a slight crush on his friend, but he pushed the thought away before putting too much thought into it. Probably for the best. 
  The rain slowly crept through the fields of newly blossomed flowers. Spring was almost here but the students wanted summer. Persephone was quite stubborn this year, however, seemingly taking forever to return to her home. The quiet shower slowly turned into a downpour. No recess today. Great. 
  Now that their only way to socialize was out the window, besides lunch, of course, they had to figure out a new way to entertain themselves. A couple whispers where silenced with an office referral written in ink. The teacher was on edge today and was not dealing with anyone’s crap. 
  Then, piece of paper found its way onto Brock’s desk.

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The note was folded up, originally, but Brock unwrinkled it to reveal its contents; a doodle of something that was supposedly Brock. Frown peered over his shoulder to see what his friend was looking at. The image was clearly meant to mock the boy. Brock stared at the picture, not out of shock, nor out of anger.. it was more like. defeat. 
   Frown would not let this dirtbag ruin his friend’s day, nor taint his mental image of himself. If only he could see what the other does.. 
The paper is crumpled back up and tossed in the trash. Neither of the boys knew where it had come from in the first place, but if they did Frown would have some,, words with them. No one was allowed to mess with Brock. Unless it’s him, that is.
   Recess soon ended and they couldn’t tell if they were relieved or disappointed. The next class was like heaven compared to the rest of the school day. Because, in this class, the two sat next to each other AND were in the very back row. This meant snacks, phones out, and time to chat. Plus, the teacher was chill, so she never yelled when she heard chip bags being opened or when they laughed at a funny meme they sent the other. The boys would have such a good time, they almost forgot they were in class. Almost being the key word.
    This just so happens to be the class with the most teenage jerks in it. A.k.a., the one’s that make this heaven feel a little more like public school. The period flew by and the little hand on the clock hit three. Finally, they were (temporarily) released from the nightmare. 
      Now, they get to walk home together. The pair was grateful they were neighbors, even if it added fuel to the fire burning in their parents hearts. Frown and Brock’s parents didn’t simply dislike each other, they hated each other with a burning passion that shines brighter than the sun on Mercury. It wasn’t their kids’ faults, but merely a difference in beliefs. Frown’s mother and father were quite strict and demanding from their son, whilst Brock’s dad was more of a laid-back and supportive kinda guy.
 …Okay, maybe the hatred was one sided, but it was like they were feuding if you asked Frown’s parents about it. Despite the different parenting styles, their kids were inseparable- and they should know. They tried it all. 
   Frown was told countless times that he was forbidden to ever look in the direction of one of their neighbors, let alone talk to one of them.  And countless times, Frown ignored it. They even tried to convince him he had moved away or he had some terrible illness so they couldn’t see each other. Lies began to drip from the adults lips, each drop getting larger and quicker to fall down the drain. But then they started putting rocks down the sink. 
  Fib after fib, the deceptions started to flood the room. All tales were foolish, but it still hurt to think how he would never be good enough and never experience true approval from his parents. 
   A sleepover was proposed, given that it was finally the weekend. So, Frown went to grab his things before heading over to Brock’s house. 
   “Where are you going so soon?” A voice call from the shadows. It was his mother, “You just got home, after all.” Her voice was sharp and stern. 
    “…just heading over to a friends house for tonight. To..study.” Frown winced at his mother’s expression. She looked like he killed someone with he kitchen knife. 
“I hope it’s not who I think it is.” 
     A moment of silence passed and Frown ran upstairs to grab his things and stuff them in his backpack before his father got home. His mother was scary, sure, but his dad was down-right terrifying and could make a lesser man quake in his boots with one glance. Just the thought of him made Frown’s blood run cold.

   It felt like an eternity since the pair parted ways and Brock began to worry. Thankfully, the boy burst through his door and they were untied again. With a quick scan, Brock located his friend’s overstuffed backpack and knew he was successful. Frown’s parents have a history of.. treating their kid poorly, so it wouldn’t be a shocker if he came back sporting a new bruise. But, thankfully, he didn’t. 
    Frown’s life wasn’t terrible, don’t get him wrong, he had a place to sleep, food, and access to an education. That was great and all, but most of the things he had because of himself. He was the one that woke himself up for school everyday. He was the one that walked to school. He was the one that brought home food for himself. His parents gifted him nothing but a burden, constantly starting arguments and doing things just in spite of the boy. It was a miracle that his mother didn’t spy his shirt- he can only image what she would have said if she did. He remembers one time he brought home a bracelet Brock made him, it was made up of colored beads sorted in rainbow order. She had a fit and the next day he sported a new bruise across his face and it anyone asked about it his reply was “you should’ve seen the other guy” or something similar. 
   But none of that mattered when he was with Brock.  

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The two had a pretty enjoyable night- going against each other in videogames (in which Brock totally didn’t let frown win, nope.), eating snacks, and just chilling out! It wasn’t much, but together, the pair could make watching paint dry interesting. 
   Finally nighttime arrived- and man, it was cold. It started off as a small breeze, Frown only questioned it once and Brock told him that the A.C. was on the fritz. Which, it would have been so bad if Frown had a bed. The floor was freezing and the fact it wasn’t carpeted didn’t help. So, the boys came up with the only possible solution: they share a bed for the night. Yep. Only solution there was. It’s not like they wanted to cuddle. Nope. Never. Not them. 
   And it was settled, Frown would sleep on the right, Brock on the left. They settled in and got comfy after a small conversation about how this wasn’t weird, ‘cause they were ‘just friends’.
   As the clock ticked by, Frown realized something, lying next to his best friend. 
   Brock snored. 
      LOUDLY. 
The night lasted forever and Frown barely slept at all, but at least he was with his favorite person, right? 
   When Frown finally closed his eyes, the sun reopened them for him moments after. This wasn’t the first restless night he’s had, but the first one that occurred while he was at his friend’s house. Almost as if he had pushed something to the back of his mind unintentionally, but it was slowly returning to his vision- like boat returning to shore, getting clearer and clearer every mile- or whatever the ocean is measured in.
   This was too much thinking for a guy that is running on five minutes of sleep, so Frown let his eyes wander, mindlessly. He scanned the cluttered room, it looked much like his, but with more gaming equipment and posters. Then, he reached Brock. The man was curled into a ball, facing the other. Still snoring, but now it was quieter. He looked so peaceful, braids gracefully scattered around the pillow, skin glistening in the sun’s rays. Frown, in contrast, had dark circles under his eyes, and terrible bed-head. He really needed to re-dye his hair, for the brown was already peaking through the blond.. one he got his next paycheck he should be able to save enough. Brock had originally colored it, after Frown wondered what he would look like if he went blonde. It was safe to say the two were extremely bored that day.
   The peaceful morning was interrupted by Brock’s father. Without knocking, he walks into Brock’s room. 
    A moment passed and Brock’s dad finally spoke, “..Brock isn’t up yet, huh?” Frown shook his head, waiting for him to say something else. “So I’m guessing you two are- aren’t you- ..never mind.” And then he left. What a awkward man. He really wasn’t ever the same since his wife passed. The boys were still pretty young when that happened, so Frown doesn’t remember her very well, but from what he’s heard she was an amazing woman. It must have been hard on the two, especially at first- thankfully it didn’t break, but rather, strengthen their bond with each other. 
    Frown feels Brock shift in bed and is greeted with emerald eyes, looking him in the face. “Good morning” Brock smiles and Frown smiles right back. The two headed downstairs for breakfast after lugging themselves out of bed. The smell of food in the air made their stomaches rumble, omelettes were the perfect breakfast.
    Brock’s father sat plates down in front of them, once they were settled at the table. It was good. This morning is good. 
     But then the phone rang. 
    A few moments pass with Brock’s dad talking to the person on the other end of the line. When he finished he turned to the boys, with an ‘oh well’ look on his face- a look that only a shaggy old guy could pull off just right. 
  “Well, it looks like your friend is wanted back home.” An ‘awwwh’ was let out and the two looked at each other. Parting has such sweet sorrow, as Shakespeare said- well, they think Shakespeare said that..just don’t look it up. 
   Frown slumped in his chair, still making eye contact. It was like a staring contest, except the winner didn’t matter, for he knew he had to go home either way. Finally one had blinked and he went upstairs to grab his things. Yay. 
     Procrastination was tempting-very tempting- but his fate was inevitable and the devil was calling his name. So, he shoved his jacket, phone charger, and extra pair of socks back into his backpack. He was about to grab the t-shirt Brock gave him until he saw something else that lured his vision..

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…It was a tiny flag. A small rainbow on a stick.
In Brock’s room.

A pride flag that was in the room that his best friend occupied.

 No matter how many ways he reworded it in his head it couldn’t stick. Like a state of shock but without the surprise. More of a ‘huh.’ moment.

   He stared at the bright stripes until he heard his friend waking up the stairs. Out of panic he shoved in into his backpack and attempted to pursue a new pose to hide any evidence. 
  “Hey dude, you find everything okay? I think your mom is coming over to get you and-“ oh no. She can’t come over here. She’ll ruin it. Everything. She will make Brock’s bad angry and then he’ll definitely never get to come over again. He can’t let that happen. 
   “Yep. Got everything. I think I’m gonna go now, actually! Okayloveyoubye” he rushed out the door so fast he didn’t even notice what he said. He just needed to get back to his house before she arrived. 


    The door flung open to reveal his mother reaching for the knob on the other side. Thank goodness he got here in time.
   “I was just about to come looking for you.” He knows, but acts like doesn’t anyways.
   “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you wanted me back so early.” He just had to play her little game for a little while longer. Just until he could go back to his room.
    Moments passed. Silence. He assumed he was dismissed and headed up the stairs. “Did you get a lot of work done?” 
    “huh- oh, er, yes. I did.” The question caught him by surprise.
    “Good.” 
And their interaction ended. Okay. It was all okay. She doesn’t know anything he hasn’t told her. He has the upper hand as of right now. There’s nothing to worry about. 
 

    Brock wandered aimlessly around his house, practically bored to death since friend left. His dad wasn’t much of a talker- not since his mom passed anyways. It was all kinda awkward, especially at first, even if they appear close, without company there are few conversations in the household. 
    Brock’s mother was an outlet for him to be himself. She understood him. His father was extremely supportive, don’t get him wrong. But he didn’t exactly understand it all that well- but not his mom. She was queer herself so when Brock came out as gay, she knew exactly what to say and how to react. Brock’s mother was a wonderful woman. She would have known what to do in this situation. 
  The situation being the fact that he’s in love with his best friend’s dumb face.

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   He wasn’t sure why exactly he likes him. Maybe it’s their closeness? Maybe he just likes the idea of likening someone..? No, that can’t be it; he’s felt this way for way too long. It was bound to be love. But why did it have to be with him? He was straight.. right? Well, he doesn’t look straight, but Brock was not going to judge his sexuality based on stereotypes-
   “You okay, son? You seem off lately.” Crap. He was drifting off into space without noticing. 
    “Oh- er, yea. Just distracted, I guess.” Brock replied, no longer staring at the wall. 
    “Do you like him?”
What.
Why did he ask such a loaded question so bluntly? Brock didn’t answer. Pretends he didn’t hear him. “Is he your boyfriend? Or are you just friends?” 

Man, he was persistent. You could ask anyone in Brock’s family and they would tell you he is stubborn as a mule, but if you asked Brock’s mom, she would say he’s more stubborn that five mules. 

   When she was in the hospital, Brock’s dad stayed with her. Though the long nights and dreadful mornings, he stayed right next to his lover. Through thick and thin. 
    “Till death do you part”
What they don’t tell you is that death isn’t fair. It will make you part, whether you’re ready or not. Death is the seeker and we are all hiding, death can be sneaky or anticipated, either way it’s inevitable, unfortunately. You can’t stop the game, even though you didn’t decide to play. 

   “You didn’t answer my question,” Brock’s dad lightheartedly said, placing his dish in the sink. Brock realized he was sidetracked again. His father sighed, “..you don’t have to if you don’t wanna. I just- I want to be in your life again. I feel like we never talk. Well, not since-“ he sighed again. 
   “I like him.” 
Brock’s dad smiled and the two hugged one another. They didn’t say anything, because they didn’t have to. They stayed there for a while, soaking in the warmth of the embrace. 
    The silence was eventually broken by another question, “Does he know?” Brock waits to answer.
Does he? Can he tell? How good is Frown’s gaydar anyway? Does he even know about Brock? Would he even care? Wait.. what if he did care? Would stop being his friend because of who he likes? Oh no no no … why has none of this ever crossed his mind? Why now? It’s supposed to be a wholesome moment with his dad, not this- 
    Brock’s dad ended the hug with a pat on the back and then found his way to the couch and picked up a book. Brock could have been left with his thoughts once again, but instead decided to distract himself with videogames. That was always easier. So, he lugged  himself up the stairs and sat down. Man, he was tired. All these confusing thoughts really takes a lot out of a guy. After some debate, he chose to rest his eyes for a quick second. That was until his phone rang. 

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   It was Frown. Of course it was him. Why wouldn’t it be? He could just not answer, but that would be rude Brock is many things, but he’s not rude. He picked up, “Hey dude what’s up?” “I want to tell you something. It’s important.” “Oh, what is it? Did something happen? Are you okay?” Brock worried and was now sitting straight up on his bed, ready to race next door. “I’m okay. It’s something else… I- I like you, Brock.” Brock was now in Frown’s room, sitting on his bed. Frown leaned in. Brock could feel his breath on his face and heard his own heart beating. Frown leaned closer, he whispered something but it was so faint that he couldn’t make out what was said.
And then Brock woke up.

It was all a dream. A dream in which Brock kinda wished he could return to. It felt real. A good real- like reality had shifted in favor of him. If there was any doubt left that Brock didn’t have feelings for Frown, the dream proved it wrong. He had fallen hard. He just hopes the ground isn’t too close. Oh, let him stay in this high, let this drug blur his memory and the daze cushion his fall. Brock daydreamed of a day that he would confess to Frown, still feeling all mushy inside.

Frown, on the other hand, was not feeling the same. He sat in his room, alone and bored. Probably procrastinating on homework. Summer was so close, he could practically taste the frozen treats and feel the warm sun on his skin. As much as he loved winter and watching others slip on ice, he was ready to hit the beach. He was also ready for school to end- there was, roughly, 3 weeks left till the nightmare was over. Hooray.
To put it simply, Frown was exhausted and being a high school dropout sounded pretty good right now. His parents would never allow it though. He just needs to survive till graduation, then he’s finally free. Then he can live. The rest of the night went by quickly and morning came early. Frown got out of bed and walked to the kitchen to grab some cereal before it’s all gone. His phone beeps because of a text from Brock, “Hey! Wyd?”
“Nothing much. Wbu?”
“Eh same here haha. U want 2 come ovr 2 play sum videogames? :)”

Frown wanted to, but he knew he couldn’t. Today was Sunday, which meant both of his parents were home- and last time was already an extremely close call. But Frown was bored and hated not being able to see his friend due to some dumb feud. He was so, very tired of it. Then, he got an idea

and started plotting.

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   It was the ultimate plan! What would he ever do without his beautifully-evil brain? Not make perfect schemes like this one, that’s for sure! 
  Okay, after much plotting, Frown could finally put his idea into action. 
   “Hey Brock! Wanna come ovr ?” 

   Brock was shocked by the text. He’s never been asked over to Frown’s house, it’s usually the other way around. 
   “Oh, sure dude !! What’s the occasion ? :))”
   “I’ll tell you later !!! Just bring your dad ” 

…bring..his dad? That’s a very specific plus one. Why? Brock questioned Frowns invite. Was he being sarcastic? He wants  Brock, someone that his parents already dislike, AND Frown’s parents’ worst enemy to come over??? Are his parents our of town or something? If they are, why bring his DAD???? This is more confusing than it needs to be. Frown said he would explain once they got there- now, how does he get his dad to go with him? 

   A little while later, Frown hears a knock at the door. It’s Brock. 
  “Hey! Uh, where’s your dad?” Frown asked in a screaming-whisper voice. 
   “Uhhhh he’ll be here …hopefully,” Brock said the ‘hopefully’ part a little too quiet, but he wasn’t going to repeat it, “I think he said he has some work to finish up on first. Also why are we whispering?” 
   “My parents don’t know about this. Now, do you know how to make pasta?” 
   “…yes?”
   “Great!” Frown yanked Brock’s arm and pulled him into the kitchen. 

   “I bought all the ingredients, I’m just not sure how to put them together..” Frown admitted. 
   “Well, you need a bowl, first of all- but can you please tell me why you want me to make pasta in the middle of the day?” 
   “Rightttt, well, I was sick of this dumb, one-sided feud, so I figured that our parents could work it out over dinner. My parents can never say no to pasta, and your dad is a nice guy, so why would he decline an invite?” Frown didn’t know that’s Brock’s dad REALLY did not want to come here.. he knows that Frown’s parents hate him and doesn’t really “want that kind of negativity in his life right now”. Well, at least that what he told Brock. Thankfully, he also said that he would consider coming.  
   “Oh.” 
   “What’s wrong?” Frown spied the disappointment on Brock’s face. 
   “Nothing, I just- are you sure this’ll work?”
   “No… but it’s worth a shot, right?” With some hesitation, Brock agreed. 

   Ingredients were everywhere as the two scattered around the kitchen. Water was boiling, side dishes were being prepped, everything was going good. A little too good. 

   “Alan Frown, what’s all that racket?” A voice called out. It was the same voice Frown dreaded to hear every weekend. His dad. 
  “Oh, I’m-uh, making dinner tonight! Don’t come into the kitchen though ! It’s a- it’s not ready yet.” Frown thought of a quick excuse. He was very use to making up excuses by now; it’s surprising how he isn’t a better lier. 
   There was no answer back. Frown was grateful. This meant his father took the bait and would definitely be joining in on the meal. Now, if there are no further interruptions, this plan should go very smoothly-
   “Oof- ah!” Frown, distracted by his “genius”, had ran into Brock, who was holding the large bowl of pasta. However the pasta was now scattered across the floor. 

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   Well, now dinner was completely ruined. Frown threw his arms up in frustration and stormed out of the kitchen to get some fresh air. It was way too warm it there anyways. Brock soon follows after scraping the majority of the pasta into the garbage; the rest would have to be mopped up later.

   Brock walks down the twisted hallway he watched Frown stomp through and passes by a room that catches his eye. It had a poster on the door of some band Brock had never heard of, clothes scattered everywhere, and to top it all off, there was a rainbow flag lying on the ground.

    It was placed in a spot that was almost unnoticeable until you really looked- and at this moment Brock realized that he was snooping through Frown’s room. It wasn’t purposely, however, it just caught his attention and he got distracted. That’s all.

But now, he was staring at one thing particularly, no longer scanning the walls and floor.

The flag.

    Brock was surprised, to say the least. Does this mean his crush is gay?

Does he actually have a chance?

    Brock packs the new information away and walks outside to find Frown. He was watched cars pass by, sitting on the curb. Brock sits next to him.

   “Hey.” Frown sounds annoyed. Not at Brock, but at his failed plan.

  “Hey, man. I’m sorry about your pasta. We can make more if you-“

  “I don’t have any more ingredients and my parents are expecting dinner any minute now.”

Brock shakes off Frown’s negative attitude, “Look, dude, we can still make this work! Sure, we don’t have pasta, but we still have some other good stuff! Like- the garlic bread we just made! My dad loves garlic bread and-“, Brock notices that Frown is still looking down at the pavement with a hopeless expression on his face, so Brock grabs his hands. Their fingers intertwine and Frown’s attention shifts to his friend. “It’s gonna be okay, dude.” Brock smiles and Frown smiles back.

Gosh he loves this man.

   Frown peers behind Brock and sees his friend’s father, walking toward them, “I heard there was garlic bread?” Brock’s dad chuckles and they walk inside. Frown and Brock are still holding each other’s hand- Brock doesn’t notice, but Frown definitely does, causing his cheeks to turn rosy.

   Once inside, the three set the table and take a seat. Not long after, footsteps can be heard going down the stairs.

   Now the crap-show really starts.

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Frown’s parents immediately spy the unexpected guests sitting at the dining table, “Who invited them?” Frown’s father’s voice was stern.

   “I just thought it’d be nice to invite them over since they’re our neighbors ‘n stuff..”

  “Sure. Whatever.” Frown’s dad sat down and his mother sat next to him. Brock was sitting in between his dad and Frown, on the opposite side of the table Frown’s parents where sitting at.

   After several moments of awkward silence, Frown’s father grabbed a plate and placed some food onto it, then others followed. He was the type of guy you couldn’t help but follow after. He acted as a leader in every situation, whether he was a good leader or not is debatable, depending on who you ask. If you asked his boss, he would say he is great a leading, but if you ask his employees, they would beg to differ. “He’s too hard on us- tells us to complete impossible tasks and he’s never happy with the result”, one employee complained to his boss, but she ended up dismissing it. If you asked Frown he wouldn’t tell you. He knows how much of a favor “keeping quiet” can give him.

   Brock’s father clears his throat, “Thank you for having us, Mr…Frown?”  Brock’s dad realized how little he knew about his neighbors. They had been living next to each other for years now.

  “Mr. Despair. I wouldn’t dream about being called by the same name as him.”  Frown’s father startled Brock’s dad. He didn’t expect an answer, let alone for him to acknowledge his existence any further than he already had.

  “Oh, uh- my bad. You can call me Mr. Crankybeard.” The name was quite misleading for such a kind-hearted person. Sure, Brock’s dad has been a little emotionally absent since his wife passed, but-

   “And I suppose you’re my son’s little ‘boyfriend’ or what not.” Mr. Dispair gestures to Brock. Another comment that caught the guests off guard, but this one made Frown stop in his tracks as well. He almost sounded like he was joking. But Frown knows, his father doesn’t joke. This is a test.

Everything was quiet. Not even the silverware hitting the plates could be heard anymore. This was truly the calm before the storm.

Just hope someone brought an umbrella.

…

   “No, I, uh- he’s-“ Mr. Crankybeard looked at Brock, who was obviously struggling with his words.

So, he decided to help.

  “This is my son, Brock. Frown and him have been together for quite awhile, actually. Frown is always a pleasure to have around and the boys seem to have great times at sleepovers. Not to mention that-“ Crankybeard finally notices Mr. Despair’s expression and suddenly feels like he might have said something wrong. He glances over at the boys and now he knows he said something wrong.

   The words that came out of his mouth echo into his ear, “…have been together for quite awhile…”

Oh.

Crap.

  “They have been..what.” Frown’s mother asked. This question is not the type of question someone would want to answer. This question means there is one last chance to change your fate.

  “It was just a mix up in words, he didn’t mean it like that-“ Frown tries to fix the mistake of Crankybeard.

  “I did not raise a gay son! We’ve been over this!” Frown’s mother slams her fists on the table, the glass dishes rattle and the noise makes the others jump.

But not Frown’s father.

He sits in silence while his wife screams.

Then, he stands up, goes outside, gets in his car, and drives away.

His silence hurt more than words.

   Once he was gone, Frown’s mother stood up, slapped her son on the side of his face, and walked outside to smoke or something of that sort. This wasn’t the first time this has happened. His dad has stormed off several different times and always comes back about 3 days later.

   Now, only the three remained in the home that isn’t theirs. Frown’s cheek stung and the awkward silence was back.

  “Frown.. I am so sor-“ Mr. Crankybeard was interrupted.

  “It’s fine, I’m- I’m fine. You guys should go home.”

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay, man? You can always stay with us.” Brock offered.

   “I said I was fine.”

   Brock and his father hesitantly leave. The awkward silence followed them home.

   “..do you really think he’ll be okay?” Brock finally broke the silence before he head upstairs to bed.

   “I’m.. not sure. We just have to trust him and offer help. We can’t make him accept the help and stay over here, we can’t make him do anything. I hate myself for what I said. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, dad. I-“ Brock opens his mouth to say something else but then closes it, “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, son.”

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Frown trudged to his room and threw himself onto his bed. He hated this feeling. He also hated how he couldn’t exactly describe this feeling. He was upset, of course, but also… relieved? No, that wasn’t the right word. If anything this made his stress level rise. He was glad it was over with, but also ticked off that it happened in the first place.

    It wasn’t exactly Crankybeard’s fault, but it definitely wasn’t not his fault either. Although, when Brock’s dad mentioned they were “together”, something fluttered in Frown’s stomach. It was the same kind of fluttering that he felt when he looked at Brock, or when their hands would accidentally touch while their sitting next to each other. It was like how Frown felt when Brock grabbed his hand while he was sitting outside or when Brock beats Frown at his favorite videogames- he always gets so excited when he wins the game- sometimes Frown let’s him win just to see his smile. Not that he would ever admit that.

     Frown realized just how much of a hold that dumb face has on him.

  Brock couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about how Frown was being hurt and there was nothing he could do about it. He was angry. He also couldn’t stop thinking about what he saw in Frown’s room. So much had happened today. It was too much at once.

    How can he help? He can’t just take him away from his parents, but he can’t let him stay there. He always knew his living situation wasn’t great, but he had never actually seen something like that happen. Maybe he could call someone? Should he just pretend it didn’t happen? No, it most definitely did happen. Then, he got an idea.

    He might not be able to help Frown, but he might be able to keep the situation from getting worse.

    That morning Brock did not wait for Frown to walk to school. He did not pair up with him during labs in science. He did not join his team on dodgeball. He didn’t even sit next to him at lunch.

   Something is going on. It’s not like Brock to ignore him. They always do everything together.

   Brock approached a new lunch table to sit at, “Hey Brock! Why aren’t you sitting with Frown? You two are always together.” There that word is again. “Together”.

   “Hey Unikitty, I just- something happened and I was wondering if I could sit next to you guys today.” Unikitty nodded so Brock sat next to her and started eating his lunch. Then, Unikitty spotted Hawkodile and Doctor Fox and started waving them over to sit with her and Brock. They were broth seniors, like Brock, while Unikitty was a freshmen. Unikitty was very popular among all the students and teacher at the school. She knew everyone and everyone knew her. She even got to eat with the seniors once a week because she was “best friends” with the principal. Maybe that’s why Frown hated her so much. She was a bit of a teacher’s pet.

    “Hiya Unikitty,” Doctor Fox looked over to Brock, “oh, uh, aren’t you Brock? The kid that always hangs out with Frown?” Frown was infamously known around to school for a specific fight he got into. He was suspended for about a month because he punched some freshman. It was only a month because the kid deserved it, but punching a 14 year old doesn’t exactly help one’s reputation.

    “Uh, yea. heh.” Brock replied. The two sat down on the other side of the table and began chatting with Unikitty. Brock stared down at his food.

    “Earth to Brock, you with us, dude?” Hawkodile asked, making Brock step out of his trance.

    “Huh? Sorry I wasn’t paying attention.”

    “No worries, I just asked if you were going to the prom Friday.” Unikitty repeated.

     The prom is Friday? Brock thought it was later than that.. “I guess so-“, it’s not like he has anything better to do. So, why not?

     “GASP! Who are you going with? If you’re not going with anyone you can totally hang out with us!!” Unikitty gets to go to senior prom? Must be another perk of being besties with the principal.

      “Oh, uh- I don’t think I’m going with anyone. So, sure.” Brock shrugged. Deep down there was someone he wanted to ask. The same someone that he had dreamed of going to prom with. It just so happens that this someone is also the same someone he is currently avoiding. Yikes.

      “Awesome!! I can’t wait!”

       The rest of the day went by rather quickly. Good. Once Brock got home he collapsed into his bed and pulled his phone out of his pocket. There was one miss call from Frown.

       Brock sighed.

Maybe avoiding him would be harder than he thought. 

Chapter Text

   Brock was avoiding him. There was no doubt in his mind about it.

But, why?

Was this about the dinner?

He doesn’t know. To be honest, he doesn’t know if he WANTS to know anymore. Eventually, Frown drifts off to sleep. It’s been a rough day.

//////////////////////////////

  The sound of rain drops hitting the window was the only thing heard during the, otherwise silent, car ride.

…

    “Did you have a good time at camp?” Frown’s mother’s voice was gentle.

    “Yeah.”

    “What did you make this year?” Frown had been going to the same camp for years, he would make all sorts of crafts and drawings. Although he claimed he was too old for the summer camp and that it was “lame”, he actually really enjoyed it. Brock and him got to hang out all the time and he had endless amounts of paper for his artwork.

     “We made a bunch of drawings n’ stuff. Oh- me and Brock made bracelets for each other too.” Frown smiles at the memory. Brock had found some beads on the craft table and brought them over to Frown. They didn’t have any string, so they used their shoe laces to make the bracelets. They carefully placed each bead on the laces, but Brock had to start over, because he dropped his, while trying to tie it together. It didn’t matter though, they we’re having fun. After they finished they traded their bracelets to each other. The one Frown made had different shades of blue, black, and occasionally purple. Brock’s bracelet had beads put in rainbow order. Frown examined Brock’s bracelet on his wrist and then showed it to his mother, who was sitting in the passenger seat of the car.

     Something he did made his mother upset.

She was yelling about.. his bracelet? It happened so fast- he didn’t do anything wrong, did he? He didn’t say anything bad. He was being good, why was she yelling?

     The next thing he knew, the bracelet was ripped off his wrist and thrown out of the window.

     “My son is not a homosexual!” She smacked at Frown. He still wasn’t sure what exactly he did wrong, “I didn’t raise you this way.”

He played by all the rules- all of her ridiculous rules- but he still loses the game. every. single. time. This wasn’t fair. He-

      “Out.”

      Frown took a moment to realize that his dad was talking to him, “..what?”

      “Out. You’re walking home.”

Frown opened the car door and then watched his father drive away.

Then, he ran back to find the bracelet, it was soaked. He was soaked.

Part of him didn’t want to go back to his father’s house.

Another part of him wished he would get struck by lighting.

All of him wanted to go home.

//////////////////////////////

 Frown woke up. He was sweaty and he felt more tired than before he went to sleep.

    Frown noticed a reoccurring pattern. He would wake up, go to school, Brock would avoid him, go back to his house, then sleep. The cycle happened over and over again, until it was finally Friday.

     At school, everyone was talking about one thing. The prom. It would be hard not to know about it at this point. Everyone was going, even Brock had mentioned it once or twice a little while back. Brock liked parties and get-togethers, he was a very social person. Frown, however, was not. He did not want to go. He was not going to go.

So, why was he going anyways?

Maybe he wanted to get out of the house.

Maybe he was going because he knew Brock would be there.

Maybe he secretly wanted to go- to ruin it for everybody, of course. Why else would he want to go? Definitely just wants to ruin it. Yeah.

  Prom was tonight and Brock was far from prepared. It was a big deal, so everyone had to dress nicely. Brock skimmed through his wardrobe. It mostly consisted of t-shirts and jeans. The only suit he had was way too small. He was going to ask to borrow one of his dad’s suits, but then remembered that he was, like, half the size of Brock. Maybe he had some good clothes stored away somewhere else? It’s a stretch, but there’s no way Brock was going to prom in a hoodie. He had dreamed about this night since middle school.

This dream included Frown. Of course.

In the dreams, he would be wearing a beautiful outfit. It usually varied from a blue suit and a sparkly gown. He would dance with Frown and everyone would accept them as they were. No stares, no rude comments, no laughter. Just acceptance.

It hurt knowing that this reality was only a fantasy.

   While Brock was reminiscing about his middle school daydreams and digging in a drawer, his father walked in.

   “Hey, whatcha looking for?”

   Brock snapped out of his trance and looked at his father, “Oh, uh, prom is tonight and I was looking for something to wear.”

   “Oh, I see. Don’t you think this is a little last minute?” Yes, he did, but it’s better late then never, “I think I might know of something you can wear.” Brock’s dad walked out of the room and returned a few minutes later. He was carrying some type folded-up clothing.

    “This was your mothers. She never got to wear it, though. When she got sick she lost a lot of weight and it was too big.” Crankybeard slowly unfolded the fabric, “We kept it, so she could wear it when she got better.” Once unfolded, the clothes was revealed to be a long, green-ish-blue dress, “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to-“

Brock hugged his father. The dress was perfect.

    Brock arrived at the school on time. It was safe to say he looked very fancy. His shoes were white and he no longer had his hair in braids, it was now an afro. Unikitty arrived around the same time as him and was wearing a pink dress with a rainbow stripe around the waistband. The theme was “enchanted forest”, so the whole room was decorated with flowers and vines.

     “You look really nice!” Unikitty said after scanning the room.

     “Oh, thanks. You too.” Brock smiled, “Where are the rest of your friends?”

     “They’ll be here soon. Everything looks so cool!” More and more people start walking in the doors, it got louder and louder, “Oh! I think that’s them!” Between the music and the people, Brock could barely hear what Unikitty said. She waved down Hawkodile and Doctor Fox. They were both wearing emerald green.

     They started talking about something and Brock wandered off to the desert table. As he reached for a cookie, another hand made an attempt to grab the same one. The two looked up at each other and, lo and behold, the other hand belonged to Frown.

      Frown was wearing a dark blue button-up with black pants. It definitely wasn’t as fancy as some of the others, but it was more elaborate than his usual outfits. He looked nice. He hated it. The two stared at each other until Frown looked away, “I know you’re avoiding me.” His brows furrowed, “why?”

       Brock opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it. He was avoiding him- but it was for a good reason! He couldn’t get him into anymore trouble this way. He couldn’t make it worse if he wasn’t there.

      “Answer me, idiot!” Frown walked closer to Brock and looked up at him. He would have been a little intimidating, if he was a little bit taller, that is.

      Brock sighed, “I’m trying to help you, but you’re not exactly making it easy.”

     “Help me? All you’ve done this week is be an a**hole!” Frown shouted, as if he doesn’t act the same way most of the time. Brock tried to look away but Frown put his hands on the sides of his face and turned his head toward him, “Look at me. Please.” Was he.. tearing up? Oh no, oh nonono. He was genuinely sad that Brock was ignoring him. Brock made Frown, the tough-guy that gets into fights all the time, cry.

      “No, I- I didn’t-“ Brock sputtered. In retrospect, he realizes that avoiding his best friend while they were obviously struggling, was not a good idea.

Chapter Text

  “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I just- I thought that if I wasn’t around.. I couldn’t make things worse. That night, at dinner, I felt like it was all my fault- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you, and-“

     Frown, who was still cupping Brock’s face, pulled him down for a kiss. It was a passionate kiss. Brock was surprised at first, but then leaned into it and kissed back.

    It was everything they both had imagined.

    Brock pulled away, “…wow.”

    “Don’t do that ever again.” Frown was still upset, but it was a different upset than at first.

     “I really am sorry. I just want you to know that. I should have been there for you, instead of avoiding you.” Brock hugged Frown. Frown, only hesitating for a moment, hugged back. During the hug Brock spotted a familiar bracelet on Frown’s wrist, then he pulled away. “Do you.. wanna dance? Or is that lame? haha..” Brock let out a nervous laugh. He was already waaaay outside of his comfort zone, so what harm could one more step do?

     Frown rolled his eyes as he grabbed Brock’s hand and pulled him away from the desert table and onto the dance floor. He put Brock’s hands on his hip, and his hands on Brock’s shoulders. Brock was grinning and so was his dance partner.

    Frown leaned in, “I hate your dumb face.”

    “I hate yours too.”

    Another kiss was shared, and they danced through the night. People stared, but they didn’t care. Neither knew what exactly they were when they left, whether it was friends or boyfriends, but they liked it. It felt right.

    Brock’s dad arrived to pick his son up from the dance, but he ended up taking Frown home too.

    “Did you two have fun?” Crankybeard asked.

    The two looked at each other and smiled, “Yeah,” Brock answered. The drive home was quiet, but content.

    “Did Frown want to stay the night?” Crankybeard wouldn’t mind either way, but he needed to know where he was dropping the boy off at.

     “Sure, if that’s okay with you.” Frown replied. Crankybeard noticed that he seemed happier than usual.

     They eventually got to their houses and Frown remembered that he had to sneak into his house to grab some clothes to sleep in, “I’ll be right back, I need to grab some stuff.”

      “Do you want me to come with you?” The answer was obvious, but Frown was grateful that Brock asked.

      “No thanks. I won’t take long.” And he was off. This was the part Brock hated. Sometimes Frown would make it out okay, others he would be sporting a new bruise, sometimes he wouldn’t come back at all.

     Frown slowly opened the door, trying not to make any noise, so he wouldn’t-

     “Where have you been?”

      …

     Frown wanted to walk right back out that door, but that would be against the rules.

     The rules his mother never exactly told him about, but he knew they existed. He hated this game that they played.

     “I was at school.”

     “At this hour?”

     “It was an after-school thing.” He prayed that she didn’t ask why he was dressed the way he was. Going to prom isn’t exactly against the rules, but she would find a way for it to upset her. He hated this game.

     “Your father and I were worried sick. I told you that you weren’t allowed to leave the house after four p.m.” She never said that. Something seemed off about her tonight.

     “I’m sorry, I must’ve forgotten.” Frown said, blankly.

     “No you’re not.” Something in Frown’s head clicked when she said that.

She was drunk.

      “You’re right, I’m not.” Frown knows that she won’t remember anything he says tonight, so he might as well make the best of it.

       “What did you say to me?” She slurred her words.

       “You heard me. I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry about leaving. I’m not sorry about breaking your dumb rules.” Frown’s voice echoed throughout the kitchen.

      Frown’s mother gasps, “You have no right to talk to me like that! Go to your room this instance!” She tried to slap him but missed and stumbled to the counter.

       Frown went to his room and slammed the door. Then, he started packing. He packed his pjs, his outfit for the morning, his toothbrush, and toothpaste. He was ready to go. As he walked to leave his room, he accidentally stepped on something.

     It was the rainbow flag. The one he took from Brock’s room. Then, he got an idea.

     He carried the flag out of his room and made sure his mother saw it. She yelled as if someone was brutally murdering her. When Frown finally reached the door to the outside, he gifted his mother a birdy and walked out.

     Once Frown was out of the house he knocked on his neighbors door and Brock opened it immediately.

     “Hey! You okay dude? You took longer than usual. I was worried.” Brock examines his friend.

     “Yeah, sorry dude, I had to talk to someone first.” Frown smiled and looked down at the flag in his hand, “I believe this is yours. I borrowed it for a little bit. Hope you don’t mind.” Brock took the flag without question and walked into the house as Frown followed close behind.

     The rest of the night went by quickly. They played video games, watched a movie, and finally got ready to go to bed. After brushing their teeth, they both sat down in the bed. Frown grinned a big, dumb grin at Brock and then kissed him. Brock kissed back. Next thing they knew, they were making out on Brock’s bed.

     Maybe life isn’t great.

     But people you love can make it better.