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“Got your lunch, faglet?”
Gerard looked up from his lunchtray slowly and begrudgingly, his mouth still full of food.
“Whassa' faglet?” he asked nervously, a niblet of corn dropping from between his lips.
“A faggy piglet.”
“O-oh.”
That day wasn't any different from any other regular day of Gerard's pitiful high school career. It was a sort of cycle, a ritual between him and the Academy's tallest bully. Now, it never occurred to him that there was no relation between height and overall prick-ness, but he had developed a lingering fear of anyone taller him thanks to Chad.
Cowering, Gerard turned his face to the table and shoveled another forkful of corn into his mouth. He heard Chad inch closer and his friends start to cheer him on.
“I don't want any trouble,” he said timidly, shrinking into his blazer. The bully beside him laughed and smacked his fork out of his shaking hand.
“You spend all your money on this shit, faglet?” he jeered, looking him up and down. “You got any left for me?”
“U-um, no I was, uh-” Gerard stammered, looking down at his tray. “I was gonna, was gonna get a pudding cup.”
“Like your fat ass needs any pudding cups.” Chad jammed his open palms into his back and shoved him forward into the table.
“Well, um-”
“Well, um, I don't give a shit. Hand over the cash, faglet.”
Another voice, higher and angrier, chirped over Chad's threatening baritone.
“Fuck off, chode.”
A petite boy stepped forward and swung his fist into the bully's sneering face, socking the smirk right from his chapped lips. He pulled his arm back and slugged him again, making Chad's knees buckle in the process.
The new kid, Frank.
Frank had transferred over to the Academy from an even stuffier and snootier Catholic school and certainly didn't show it. His tie was off-kilter, his hair a thick, black mess, and a telltale skunky musk radiating from his uniform.
He was easily the coolest person Gerard had ever seen.
Gerard shot up in his seat, knocking over his lunchtray to the floor.
“I, I said I didn't want any trouble!” he whined, the hard plastic of the table pressing into his little round backside. Tater tots scattered across the table and fell to the floor leaving ketchup-stained crumbs in their wake. “You didn't have to d-do that, I, you, I could have just given him my pudding money and-”
“Nah, I don't put up with insecure assholes like him,” Frank replied, delivering a swift kick to the collapsed body of Chad. Gerard almost smiled. He didn't look so tough then.
However, Chad's friends were a lot more able.
Frank frantically gripped onto Gerard's arm and yanked him as he began to run, bounding across the courtyard with the older boy heaving and stumbling behind him.
Eventually, they had reached the boy's bathrooms right outside the school's notoriously difficult croquet field. Gerard held his stomach and doubled over, panting heavily and choking. He wasn't exactly in-shape. Frank, though, had looked as sprightly as ever, with a new smug grin stretched across his lips.
“I think we lost 'em,” he said hurriedly, stepping past the bathroom door and ushering Gerard inside. The tired boy slumped to the floor with his back sliding down one of the filthy stalls.
Leave it to Gerard to make himself out to be a huge pussy to the coolest guy in school.
He stared at the brown and green sludge in the cracks of the tiles helplessly and didn't dare to glance at Frank.
“Thanks, I- I really appreci-uh, appreciate it,” he murmured, fishing into his pocket and producing a handful of sweaty coins. “Here's my pudding, my pudding money. I figure you'd, you deserve it.”
Frank plopped down next to him and cupped the boy's hand, folding his fingers over his own palm to close over the loose change.
“Nope, you keep your money, alright?” he said with a soft smile. “I didn't wanna sit around and watch that fucker just pick on you, so I stepped in.”
“Um, thanks.”
“Don't mention it.”
Without warning, Frank scooted in close and pressed his lips against Gerard's in a quick, chaste kiss.
The older boy let out a small cry as the coins dropped to the floor with a noisy clatter.
“Aw, shit. Sorry about that,” Frank apologized, hastily dropping to his knees to help Gerard gather up the change rolling around the tile.
“No, uh, it's okay,” Gerard replied breathlessly, a warm, pink blush spreading across his chubby cheeks. “Your lips taste a lot better than pudding anyway.”