Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

First day of 5th year, 2nd September 2024

To say Preston Doyle wasn’t particularly excited for his first day in a new secondary school would be a gross understatement. The jump from being the only trans boy in his all girl’s catholic school in quiet Cabra to being lost in the crowds of students at a mixed secular school in what was certainly one of the rougher areas of Finglas was massive, no matter how much his well-meaning ma tried to downplay it. 

His 7am alarm brought with it nothing but dread as it echoed throughout his well-decorated room, the boy’s bleary eyes opening to the dim light of the same fairy lights he’d had strung across his walls since he was a young child. Running two hands over his face, he sat up slowly, the batman T-shirt he’d slept in sticking to his back with sweat. Preston’s eyes drifted from item to item as he fought off the urge to go back to sleep. He was more than happy with his room and the way it managed to capture every one of his interests. From where his DC action figures stood side-by-side with his sylvanian families; his collection of funko pops that stacked up to the ceiling and teetered worryingly every time he opened a window; to the assorted owl-themed pieces that littered every corner, namely the squishmallow he’d just been sleeping on.

If there was one thing about this school that seemed promising, it was the lack of uniform. Perhaps it was just Preston’s struggles with the rules at his last school and the punishment for his refusal to wear a skirt that filled him with relief at the fact he could wear whatever he wanted here, but whatever it was, he was making the most of it. Facing his mirror, he dressed in his carefully curated outfit for the day, pulling on his beige cargos, a plain white t-shirt, a brown zip-up Nike hoodie and black converse to finish. Once done, he found he couldn’t stop himself from carefully studying his own appearance, biting his plump bottom lip as his eyes flit across every feature of his face carefully. Preston just let his brain pick apart every aspect of his looks, every transphobic comment ever thrown at him sticking in his mind and destroying his self image, even if the boy was more than capable of blending in as cis. He had a soft face overall, with smooth skin only tainted by light, complimentary freckles across his nose and cheeks; his pale blue eyes were bright and innocent, his spark slowly coming back after months of being dulled; ash brown hair topped his head, fluffy and cut with a fresh taper fade. 

“Now, are you sure you’re ready, love?” Preston’s Ma checked for what was the fifth time since he’d first got out of bed this morning.

“Yeah, ma! I’ll be grand.” The teen reassured, slinging his bag onto his back as he pushed any nerves down to the pit of his stomach. 

“Ah, God. C’mere.” She fussed, running fingers through her son’s hair and smoothening his slightly crinkled t-shirt with cold hands, smiling proudly as she stood back.

“All grown up; your Da would be proud.” She smiled, that familiar look of long-standing grief flashing through her eyes.

It had been 16 years since Preston’s Dad had died and his Ma hadn’t ever truly gotten over it. The boy himself had never met him, but was consistently reminded of how much his mother saw the man in him, even before he’d transitioned. 

Leaving the house not soon after, Preston walked the short few steps to the bus stop for Finglas, his knee bouncing nervously as he sat waiting. Although, when the bus pulled around, he was only faced with the day’s first issue.

“Yer ten cent short, pal.” The bus driver grunted, an overweight, ugly man whose beady eyes glared down at Preston from his seat.

“I- Wha? Oh, it's probably… in me pocket.” Preston fumbled, already feeling his pale cheeks heat up as he had another two people waiting behind him to pay in cash and could not for the life of him find that missing coin. 

The bus driver huffed, clearly not the type to just let someone off with such a small difference like most would, “If ye’ve not got it ye can get off me bus. I’ve not got time for shite like this.”

Just as Preston felt he was on the verge of tears with the amount of stress this morning was causing him, a girl around his age pushed past to tap her leap card on the bus driver’s scanner.

“I’ll pay for him.” She smiled, being far too kind to the driver in Preston’s opinion, “Two kids, please.” 

The man just grunted and punched in the numbers, shooing the two along and grumbling about time wasters, not at all helping Preston’s flushed cheeks.

“Here.” The girl spoke sweetly, passing him his ticket and heading off to her own seat before Preston could even get a proper thank you out. 

At least one thing was going his way so far.

That was, however, until he got off the bus ten minutes after school had already started, clearly having misjudged the journey time from his house on Broombridge to ‘Finglas secular academy’, which was further than he’d thought. Almost tripping over his own feet as he scurried up to the gates, he soon slowed as a group of three fellas in similar disgusting tracksuits came into view. They were all similarly tall and off-putting, each one talking loudly and so indistinguishably it seemed they were all speaking at once. Preston just hoped to god he didn’t have to deal with fellas like that in his class.

After prolonging his lateness even further by having to wait for his timetable at the office, Preston finally reached his classroom. Sighing deeply, he pushed open the door, his eyes landing on his teacher who opened up her mouth with a smile to greet him before being rudely cut off by a grating voice.

“Oh my god, boys. What is tha?” Taunted a rather intimidating fella from the back. 

He smirked cruelly as he spoke, joined by two friends at either side of him, crowding together like a pack of mangy hyenas. Who, if Preston wasn’t mistaken, were exactly the same lads he’d had the misfortune of trailing behind on his way into school. The speaking fella in question was, of course, Darren Whelan. A tall, lean boy with pale skin and dark hair that was long overdue a trim. To his right was Calum Doherty: a stocky blonde with eyes of ice that carried a piercing stare, his face was slashed with a deep scar and his thin lips twitched unconsciously. Perhaps his stark opposite, on his left, was Eoin Kelly. The boy held the same mean gaze, although his seemed so fabricated you could hardly find him alone to be scary. His tight cut hair was the type of brown that glowed auburn in the sun and his hazel eyes along with tanned skin created a beautiful harmony of features that was wasted on such scum.

Dismissing the boys in such an unbothered manner that showed this was the norm for their class, the teacher greeted Preston and gave him a free choice of seats. Palms now sweaty, he sat at the front next to, to his even further surprise, the exact same girl who had paid for him earlier on the bus. Taking the worksheet that was passed to him, he made sure to actually thank her now, before getting on with the page in front of him. 

“Fuckin dirty fag.” Calum spoke, no hint of a smile on his face as he practically shuddered the words from his lips.

“Ha, he looks like a bleedin’ girl.” Eoin was quick to agree, all three boys focused in on the back of poor Preston’s head, finding far more entertainment in this than they ever would in trigonometry. 

Their insults and cheap jokes continued to fly out throughout the lesson, not one of them even trying to keep things quiet, Calum the least so. It was almost a sort of punishment for Preston in their eyes, since he’d chosen to sit so far away from them. To the lads, that just confirmed how much of a pussy this fella was. 

However, Preston knew better than to give them any sort of reaction, as that was all they were looking for after all and why should lads like that ever get anything that they want? The lack of response from the new boy began to agitate the three at the back after a while, Darren being the first to properly show this. Reaching down, he picked up a rubber from the floor and threw it right at the back of Preston’s head, all three boys erupting into laughter as it hit him. The Cabra lad’s cheeks burned pink yet he didn’t dare turn around, especially not after the poor girl next to him did and was faced with just as much abuse as he would likely get. 

“Ignore them.” The girl, who had introduced herself as Amelia, huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “They’re just horrible bastards.”

Preston nodded, although didn’t take much comfort from the girl’s words. That was all he needed: to come from one school where he was constantly targeted to another where the exact same thing happened.

Finding amusement in this torment, Eoin and Calum didn’t take long to join in for themselves. Every time their teacher would turn her back, another rubber, ruler, sharpener or pencil would go flying over at Preston, this infantile bullying very clearly hilarious for the inflicters. 

“Windy in here, lads. Shite flyin everywhere.” Darren commented loudly, earning more snickers and similar jokes from the two at his table.

“Pencil’s pure flyin out me hand.” Eoin chimed in, Darren rolling his eyes at his badly copied joke.

Preston just contained himself for the remainder of the class, finding great relief in the noise of the bell when it rang. He wasted no time scrambling his belongings together and stuffing them in his bag to leave, tears pricking his eyes. Not entirely from the comments alone, more so from the literal headache those bastards had caused him.

He skipped the next lesson, sitting in a toilet cubicle on his phone instead. God, this was just like third year playing on repeat, only this time people at least saw him as a fella, or so he hoped anyway. Silently, he scrolled on tiktok for the next half an hour, ignoring the crude graffiti and piercing sting in his arm from how he’d foolishly taken out his frustration after maths. Although, much to the boy’s dismay, his silence was interrupted after those peaceful thirty minutes by an all too familiar voice. 

“Here boys, d’ya not think that fella from earlier looked mad like a bird? Is that just me, or?” Darren Whelan posed as he entered with Calum and Eoin and sat up on the row of sinks, completely unaware that the boy in question was sitting in a cubicle as they spoke. 

“Wha? Ye need to get yer head checked, Dar.” Calum disagreed, pacing around the bathrooms and lighting up a joint as he did so, “He’s just a fag or su’um, it’s obvious. Isn’t it, Eoin?”

Eoin looked up from his phone like a bewildered meerkat upon hearing his name, just nodding and murmuring a few ‘yeah’ s before returning his attention to his dry snapchat.

“Course he’s gonna agree with ye. Stupid pox just agrees with whatever the last person says.” Darren grumbled, slapping Eoin around the back of the head.

Meanwhile, inside the cubicle, Preston just sat on the closed toilet with his legs pulled up to his chest and phone turned off in case anything played loudly. He listened to the fella’s ongoing conversation with shaky breath, his stomach suddenly dropping with just a few words.

“Here, is someone in there?” Eoin snickered after a moment, nodding to the only occupied cubicle in the bathrooms, Darren and Calum smirking at the sight. 

“Bro, come out!” Calum piped up, his voice the most threatening that Preston had ever heard be directed at him.

The blonde paused for a moment after speaking, as if for effect, before booting the cubicle door as hard as he could, making the entire thing shake on its hinges and the other lads burst into laughter. His mate’s reactions only spurred him on more, the fella moving back so he could kick it again with more force, almost fixated on making it fall in now.

Preston couldn’t take it any longer in there. He’d thought it was bad enough being bullied relentlessly by the girls in his last school, but now it was fellas he had to deal with.. well, that was a different story. After freezing for what seemed an eternity, he finally built up the courage to just take a deep breath and open his stall door, trying to leave as quickly as possible, although of course Calum wouldn’t let that happen. The taller boy slammed a rough hand down on Preston’s shoulder, thick fingers squeezing him harshly.

“Leavin so soon, are ya?” He sniggered sickeningly, his eyes flashing with that insane glint that all his mates would recognise.

Darren stepped in quickly, as much as he’d have liked to see that new bastard get bated. He pushed Preston along with a rough hand, stepping in front of his blonde friend, “Ah, here, let him go, Calum. Gowon.”

He hadn’t stopped the interaction because he felt bad, far from it. It was just that everyone that knew Calum Doherty knew he was off the loaf - massively. No fella needed to get bated by him on their first day, unless they’d really done something. All this Preston lad had done was be gay, Calum could save it for now.

Preston hurried to science with hands that were still visibly shaking, sitting down in the middle as he managed to get there for the start of the lesson. He just hoped those three would pick some other seats were they to arrive, he didn't need any further reason to change schools again already. 

Darren alone arrived at class about 20 minutes later, having been caught skipping by his year head when he left the bathroom for a second and escorted to lesson by his year head. 

“Sit there, Darren, where I can see you.” His teacher instructed, gesturing to, to both boys' luck, the chair next to Preston, whose heart dropped immediately.

“Ah, Sir, come on! Are ye takin the piss or su’um?!” Darren protested, not even once looking at Preston as he spoke.

The teacher was firm in his order, however, not budging no matter how much Darren went on, each word just making Preston feel worse and worse. Irritably, the taller boy took his seat, making sure to scoot it as far away from the other as possible. 

“The fuck are ye looking at?” He snapped at a level that only Preston could hear this time, instead of announcing everything to the rest of the class as he had done earlier, his eyes burning into the Cabra lad’s own pair before he tore them away with a huff. 

Science passed at a snail's pace for Darren, the dark-haired fella having nothing to entertain himself with now he was alone in the class, even one of the group’s other friends, Niall, being sat at the opposite end of the room to him. Begrudgingly, he pushed himself up from where his head lay in his arms, his eyes flitting to Preston as he scribbled away at a set of stupid, little drawings. 

“What ye drawin, pal?” He smirked in a condescendingly friendly tone, poking an unwanted head over Preston’s shoulder in an attempt to get a better view. 

Preston flinched at the sudden action, his face only flushing up as he did so. He said nothing, although still allowed his arm to move back so Darren could see, as if he’d even want to anyway. 

Leaning more over for a split second to see the drawing, Darren raised his eyebrows, expression otherwise neutral. It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, although he’d rather shoot himself in the foot than compliment this fella.

“Not bad, bro.” He nodded, turning away as he spoke to resume his earlier position.

*** 

Lunch came soon enough and brought with it the illusion of freedom. Preston, of course, hadn’t made any friends yet and so walked down to the shops alone. He wasn’t exactly bothered about that fact, it just meant no drama, or so he thought. 

“Here, Picasso! Do us a drawing, yeah!” Came Calum’s voice booming out of the blue, making Preston inwardly freeze up for what felt like the twentieth time today. 

Their footsteps audibly sped up until Preston felt Darren’s clammy hand slam down on his shoulder, almost sending him off balance.

“Slow down, bro. We only wanna talk to ye.” He sniggered, squeezing his grip uncomfortably against the lad before letting go. 

Preston bit his bottom lip, eyes glued to his phone as they all bombarded him. Short, plotting laughs rang in his ears as if warning of something further happening, Calum’s heavy arm around the Cabra boy’s shoulders soon confirming that.

“Paint me a little picture, yeah, bro?” The blonde teased, leaning his face in so close that Preston couldn’t stop his nose from wrinkling at his breath. 

The teasing only let up as the four grew closer to the shops, Calum taking his arm away and studying Preston’s flushed features as he did so.

“Fag.” He scoffed, shoving the poor boy in the opposite direction as he led his trio over to the shops, Preston just deciding to skip the rest of the day and go straight back home, tears finally free to fill his eyes as he did so. 

Chapter Text

The next day, 3rd September 2024

Darren could hardly believe the messages he opened his phone to the next morning when his Ma’s screeching voice rattled around the house as an unwanted wake-up call. Blinking his groggy eyes awake, the lad opened his few snaps from Eoin, face immediately falling as he read the first three words. 

-Not comin in bro 

-Cal wants me for sum

-Sorry

For a fella that was supposedly his best mate, Eoin had grown irritably closer with Calum over the Summer. The blonde barely ever asked Darren to do anything now, it was always just Eoin at every turn. He knew why, of course: the brunette would do anything Calum wanted, whenever he wanted it. It was as if a backbone didn’t exist in his body, he was always bending over backwards for whoever asked last. Which Darren didn’t hate when it benefitted him, but when it meant he was going to be left alone in class on the second day of the new school year, the lad was at his wits’ end. 

Groaning to himself irritably and shouting back to his Ma, he slid out of bed with as much enthusiasm as a man getting ready for his own funeral. As a last resort, he opened Snapchat to text Niall, only to be immediately shut down there too.

-Sorry bro need to drag me ma down to welfare office or im not gonna eat lmao

Great, so he was definitely going to be alone. Who was he going to hang around with in class now? That new gay fella? Yeah, right.

After twenty minutes of pained begging to his Ma and Da for them to please just let him have the day off, Darren just gave up, snide comments from his older brother, Cameron, only pissing him off more.

“Get to school, Darren. Yer a fuckin joke of a fella, ye know that?” The twenty-one year old called down from the stairs, clearly having just stuck his head out of his bedroom to get involved in the argument for no reason other than his own amusement.

“ I’m a fuckin joke?! You won’t even get a job to feed yer kid, ye lazy pox!” Darren yelled back, his anger at first his friends and now his parents only adding further vitriol to his words, his Dad already pushing him out the door at this point, “I’m goin’!”

The trek to school was a laboured one, the complete lack of motivation Darren was left with bogging him down with each step he took and his dreary surroundings hardly helped him feel any better. It was just street after street of uniform terraced houses, each one somehow more miserable looking than the last. Every so often you’d come by a place that was entirely boarded up, complete with a front gate hanging off its hinges and usually an explanatory burnt-in roof to top it all off. Empty fast gas canisters, discarded disposable vapes and other general rubbish littered the ground, normally just an ironic few metres away from a bin. The only people out so early were either other students like him or washed-up junkies who seemed to never be anywhere but the streets. 

And so, by the time he finally reached the door of his English class, the lesson was already half-way over.

“What time do you call this, Darren?” His elderly english teacher questioned in a snapping tone, Darren not even gracing him with a glance as he just waved the man away with a grumble, sitting down abruptly in the empty seat next to Preston.

Preston’s eyes widened and his body instinctively stiffened up as Darren sat down next to him. He was hardly going to speak to him or anything, I mean, the fella obviously didn’t choose to sit next to him for some light conversation, this was probably just the first seat he saw. 

“Yup.” Darren grumbled bluntly, his eyes on his phone which he scrolled through under the desk, his whole unbothered demeanour amped up wildly to try and hide the fact he was speaking to this lad in the first place.

“Uh.. heya.” Preston mumbled, his mouth immediately drying up, as if his body’s way of warning him against talking to this fella.

Darren looked up from his phone momentarily to gaze at their teacher, checking the old man wasn’t looking anywhere in his direction. Which, to the boy’s luck, he wasn’t.

“Where ye from?” He asked, not daring to look anywhere near Preston in case anyone in the room would catch on to the fact he was even speaking to someone who was so clearly below him - in Darren’s mind, at least.

“Eh.. Cabra.” Preston replied in a slightly louder tone this time, hardly wanting to come off as a complete fanny, as if some part of him deep down still cared about what fellas like this thought of him, no matter the mutual hatred between the two.

“Cabra rat.” Darren scoffed, Preston half-certain he heard a slight laugh in his tone, although turning to look at the lad’s face it showed no hint of even a smile.

The two were silent again for a moment, Darren more bothered about his phone than the two’s conversation - if it could be called that. He spoke up again after a few seconds of further scrolling, unable to find a video that he deemed worth his time.

“Why’d ye come here, then?” He asked, actually meeting Preston’s gaze for a split second now, taking in what he could of his face in that time and mentally picking apart his features.

“I got kicked out me last school.” Preston answered quickly, hoping he didn’t sound like he was trying too hard even if he was only telling the truth.

Darren snickered in disbelief, soon returning to his neutral expression however as he realised he could be starting to give the lad next to him the impression that he tolerated him. Which was certainly far from the truth, “Yeah, right. Bashed some fella around, did ye?”

Preston shrugged with a hint of a smile, his action confirming the other boy’s joking guess. Not that it was exactly a fella that the Cabra boy had been fighting with, but he was hardly about to correct the gender of his opponent when he was almost certain Darren and his friends viewed him as cis. 

“Fuck off. No ye weren’t.” Darren dismissed with a small smirk that flashed across his lips for a few mere seconds before vanishing.

The conversation came to a close for the next fifteen minutes at that point, Darren deciding to actually get some work done now he had no mates in the room to impress by slacking off. It wasn’t until the last few minutes of the lesson that the taller boy looked up, Preston catching his eye as he pulled out a small sketchbook from the pocket of his cargos - a grey pair today. Flicking through the filled pages of artwork to find a fresh one, Preston looked up to meet Darren’s gaze, feeling the lad’s intimidating eyes on him ever since he’d first moved.

“You fuckin drawin’ again?” He asked rhetorically, his tone more than judgmental as he stared over at the book in the boy’s hands. 

Preston tensed at the unnecessary questioning, his hands freezing up for a moment where he held the sketchpad, before quickly stuffing it back into his bag.

“Wha? Nah.. aha.” He fumbled, only making himself seem even more pathetic to the lad sitting next to him, who rolled his eyes with displeasure.

“Grow up.”

Preston’s gut twisted at Darren’s final words, feeling as if nothing he did was right. If he kept it out he’d likely be slagged for being a ‘faggot’ and teased further, but now he’d put it away he just looked like a pussy. Everything was just weighing down on him at this point. To think he’d moved to this school for a fresh start only to be targeted from the very first second of his first day. He didn’t even know what to do anymore, but he certainly was not staying around Darren as far as he could help it.

The bell for second period rang after only a few more minutes, Preston wasting no time in bolting out of the classroom to reside in a toilet cubicle once again. Pushing in through the door, he paused for a second to see if anyone else was there, upon taking it to be empty, he allowed himself to break down, taking the last cubicle and shakily locking the door through teary vision. God, he hated them all, every single person in that class, whether that was logical or not. Those lads didn’t even know him enough to dislike him so vehemently, they’d just taken one look at him and decided he was bad news. What, because he wasn’t head to toe in monterrain? It was hardly as if Preston even looked alternative or anything remotely similar in the slightest, he wasn’t even wearing a single piece of black clothing and he’d already been called an emo by some random fella in the halls. He just wanted to go home. Every second he spent here he longed for it more, despite telling his Ma that he’d had a great first day and only came home early due to how sick he’d felt.

Darren had had his eye on Preston the entire time the two had been walking the corridors together, unknowingly so for the latter party. He entered the bathrooms around thirty seconds after Preston did, immediately calling out to him.

“Here, Preston!” 

He didn’t care if there was anyone in here to hear him, if they thought he was looking for the lad to be friendly that was their own stupid mistake, he obviously was just looking for a bit of cruel entertainment.

Preston rolled his eyes in pure frustration, of course he’d followed him in here. Who was he to think he’d get even a single second of peace in this school?

“Fuck off.” He replied, tears evident in his voice as he spoke, only embarrassing him more.

“Shut up. Let me in.” Darren snapped back, not letting Preston’s words hang in the air for even a second.

He leant against the outside of the cubicle, just waiting to hear that familiar slide of the lock, not imagining for a second he wouldn’t get what he wanted. And, of course, he did.

“What d’ye want?” Preston asked with disdain, his head only poking slightly out through the small crack he’d opened the door, Darren soon barging straight in and sending the smaller lad flying back.

“What's wrong with ye?” He asked, far more accusatorily than at all comforting, although of course he wasn't going for the second option in the first place. His frowning eyes looked Preston up and down, the fact he’d visibly been crying and in fact still was only irritating him further. How could a fella be that soft?

“Nothin’! It doesn’t poxy matter, just piss off, Darren!” Preston dismissed, unable to hold back on his anger as he tried to barge past the other lad.

Darren’s expression changed from his previous relatively neutral one to a scowl of pure hatred in a matter of seconds, Preston only having to blink and he would have missed it. Without giving the other fella a second to even begin to regret his outburst, Darren shoved him hard by the shoulders, sending him stumbling back and nearly fully losing his footing as his legs hit the toilet. 

“I’m sorry! I’m-” Preston protested pleadingly, bringing his hands up in surrender only to be met with a harsh slap from Darren that definitely left a sting along with its mark.

“Don’t you fuckin speak to me, ye queer!” He warned, staring piercingly into Preston’s soul for a prolonged moment before storming out and slamming the door behind him, making the surrounding stalls shake with the sheer amount of force he’d put into his movement.

Preston only fell sorrowfully to his arse, his head in his arms and knees pulled up to his chest as he began to cry once again, feeling utterly defeated. If this was what he would be putting up with for the rest of the year, he didn’t know how much he’d be able to take.

***

4th September 2024

Thankfully for Darren, both Eoin and Calum had decided to come into school the next day. The dark-haired lad had of course filled the two in on the events of yesterday, although left out and tweaked any parts that could easily be turned around and used against him, like how he’d willingly sat down next to Preston. God, he didn’t even know himself what he’d been thinking. As the trio entered their Irish class, they saw the lad in question sat in conversation with Amelia, all shooting each other mocking glances in response. Walking past, Eoin smacked Preston around the back of the head with considerable force, sending his head falling forward in a way that was more than hilarious for the lads. 

“Pullin’ already, bro?” He snickered, immediately looking to Darren and Calum for validation after speaking, his eyes lighting up when they laughed along. 

Preston sank in his seat, knowing full well he looked pathetic as he didn’t give them a response, even more so when it was the girl next to him that did so instead.

“Shut up, Eoin. Still wearin’ your sister’s fake tan, are ye?” Amelia retorted before turning back around, making the fella on the receiving end of her joke visibly blush, even more so when his own mates sniggered too. 

“Gettin yer bird to fight ye battles, Presto? That’s low, bro.” Darren called over, the nickname entirely mocking and carrying absolutely no friendly familiarity with it whatsoever.

Amelia rolled her eyes, not at all judging Preston for not saying anything back to them. They didn’t even deserve to be justified with a response anyway. 

“They’re horrible bastards, you can always sit with me.” She whispered, smiling at Preston sweetly, the boy meeting it with his own tired but grateful expression.

Preston had been a mess the night before, his arm still ached now if he were to move it in a certain way. His skin was littered with faint slashes which he tried desperately to hide from his Ma, he wasn’t having her worrying about him again, all he wanted was for her to believe he was having a good time at this new school; that the events of his last were a thing of the past for good.

“Thanks.” He smiled, really just wanting to go home as much as he appreciated having at least one person he could maybe consider a friend here. 

***

As much as Amelia had meant her words, they hardly carried over when their next lesson was science, which she just so happened not to take, although clearly felt terrible about leaving him in, which Preston couldn’t help but feel comforted by.

“I’ll meet you outside history, yeah?” She assured, Preston agreeing with a smile that immediately dropped the second he turned away to step into the classroom.

The work benches at the back were littered with scientific equipment, the majority of the class ecstatic to be getting a lesson free from ‘real work’ as their teacher began to explain their practical experiment, barely anyone actually taking anything in.

Darren, Calum and Eoin had already claimed their spot at a bench, all just talking amongst themselves as their teacher went on, the blonde half-way through pressuring Eoin into drinking some of the hydrochloric acid that sat in front of them when the woman came over.

“Lads, we need groups of four.” Their teacher stated, Preston standing behind her and looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else right now, his eyes fixed on his shoes and not even daring to make eye contact with the fellas for a second.

Eoin began to groan childishly at the sight, Calum not best pleased either, whilst Darren’s lips curled to a cruel smirk.

“Yeah, miss, we’ll take him.” He agreed in mock kindness, the other two copping on as he spoke, his tone clear to seemingly all but the teacher.

The trio went straight back to messing around with the equipment as their teacher walked off, Preston having been the only one listening and becoming slowly agitated by the fella’s messing.

“Er.. we’ve to heat the hydrochloric acid.” He spoke up after a moment, switching on the bunsen burner and lighting it, the fellas watching on momentarily.

“Yeah, grand. You can do that, can’t ye?” Darren dismissed, turning his attention back to where the other three had been childishly mixing all the components together, jumping back with laughter as the mixture began to froth up out of the cup.

“Can one of yous pass me the small test tube?” Preston requested after a few minutes of silently getting on with things himself, not minding the slight serenity of being left alone for a short while, until he eventually had to speak up that was.

The new boy had to ask at least three separate times before he got any of the lad’s attention, their attention fixed on filming Calum snorting some iron filings off Darren’s house keys and pissing themselves laughing as he coughed and spluttered up bits of metal, black liquid running from his nose too.

“Wha? Here.” Eoin replied carelessly, tossing the test tube over to Preston. Literally tossing. The glass smashing all over the floor as he and his mates only laughed further, Preston growing closer to just walking out of this class by the second.

“Stupid cunt.” He mumbled to himself, thankfully out of earshot of the others.

Over the next thirty minutes, Preston finished the experiment by himself, their teacher coming around to each group to check her students' results, Darren, Calum and Eoin having no issue in claiming everything as their own, smirking smugly when they were used as the example for the best in class. Preston couldn’t help but smile sheepishly at the words, even if his happiness was considerably dampened by the others in his group. 

“Nice one, Pres.” Darren smirked, thumping the boy on the back in a show of mock friendship, Eoin joining in as well, of course.

“Not as thick as ye look.” The tanned boy snickered, Calum and Eoin following Preston out the classroom and into the bathrooms as the lesson finished up, Darren not getting the memo as he headed straight off to his next class. Preston hadn’t noticed them behind him until he emerged again from his toilet cubicle after a few minutes, his eyes widening with the unexpected sight of the group.

“Alright, bro?” Calum smirked, immediately taking advantage of Preston’s slightly startled nature.

“Heya.” The Cabra lad replied with a forced smile, just going to wash his hands and hoping to leave soon, which of course wouldn’t go to plan.

“Ye think yer a fighter or su’um, then?” The blonde continued, Eoin snickering on like a backing track in the background.

Preston froze slightly at Calum’s words, although refused to let it show, even if he didn’t like where this was going at all.

“Well nah-”

“Dar said ye got kicked out yer last school for batin’ someone though, why ye lyin’?” Eoin chimed in, seemingly only ever speaking if it was to back up one of his friends. God, he was pathetic.

“Well, yeah .. but it was only ‘cause she deserved it.” Preston shrugged as he dried off his hands with flimsy sheets of toilet roll that only stuck to his hands instead of actually helping, not realising the detrimental mistake he just made.

The two looked between each other with a shared incredulous frown, as if neither could believe what they’d just heard, Calum first to speak on it.

“ She ?! You battered a fuckin bird ?” He questioned, nose wrinkled in disgust as he pushed himself up from his seat on the row of sinks, squaring up to Preston as the other boy cowered in fear, his legs turned to jelly.

Eoin didn’t say anything, although he wore a similar expression on his face, only his being considerably less scary.

“I- Nah, nah, I just.. I just messed me words up, it wasn’t-” 

“No ye fuckin didn’t, ye filthy pox!” Calum cut off, holding Preston by the fabric of his hoodie, the poor boy now pressed up against the dirt-stained walls with no way out of the blonde’s terrifyingly strong grip no matter how much he wriggled, “That’s fuckin rotten!”

Each word Calum spoke was accompanied by flecks of his own spit, Preston scrunching his face up distastefully at both the sensation of it and the stinging pain from the older fella’s bony knuckles pressing into him relentlessly. However, his shouted words also came as a blessing to Preston, as they only meant Calum drew outside attention to himself. Attention that thankfully came from one of the few people with authority over him. 

“Calum! Get off him, now!” A teacher who must have been around in his late thirties called out, barging into the bathrooms and yanking the blonde off of Preston with as much force as he was allowed to use. In the few moments the Cabra boy saw the man, he managed to take in as much of his features for him to still be present in his mind hours later. He wasn’t at all bad looking, his hair seemingly incredibly soft and coming down to just below his ears, a small moustache above his lip complimenting the look perfectly.

However, Preston wasted no time in waiting around for the teacher to turn to him, scurrying straight out the door with a heart racing at the speed of light as he made his way to history, apologising profusely to Amelia for being late upon arrival, as if any of the previous events were at all his fault.

Chapter Text

The same day, History

Darren was definitely more than annoyed when he realised both Eoin and Calum had seemingly ditched him on the walk from Science to History, although it began to be tainted with more confusion when he realised there was no sign of Preston either. He swallowed with a slight pang of guilt as his mind flit through the likely scenarios, neither of them exactly good for the new boy. Of course, he didn’t feel terrible, but he still couldn’t push past the fact that Preston hadn’t exactly done anything. Except get smart with him in the bathrooms yesterday, but he’d already got what he deserved for that. Calum wouldn’t hesitate to swing him around simply for the fact he was gay, which rang clear in his mind the longer no sign of any of the missing boys came. It was more than ironic really, how the fellas could be so outwardly and openly hateful towards lads like Preston who were really just trying to get on with their life yet pal around with Niall with absolutely no issue at all, despite him being fully open about liking lads. No-one took him very seriously in fairness, he even had a few mates that didn’t even believe he was gay, despite the fact he’d talk about being on Grindr in the same manner his straight mates would with pulling girls on snapchat. Supposedly it was just the way he dressed that gave him a pass though. He didn’t look gay, in fact, he looked the stark opposite with the way he’d swan around in his canada goose puffer and monterrain bottoms. It worked in his favour for the most part; he at least wasn’t getting put in any situations similar to Preston’s.

Preston arrived at class around ten minutes late, Eoin following close after him. The first boy took his seat immediately down next to Amelia, Eoin heading over to Darren, clearly about to burst the longer he held in whatever had just gone down.

“Cal’s probably getting expelled.” He huffed out as he sat down, his tone making it clear he was exaggerating.

“What happened?” Darren asked curiously, sticking his neck out to try and get a better view of Preston from where he sat.

“That Preston fella, right, he’s only at to getting kicked out of his last school for batin’ a bird.” Eoin began to explain, pausing for some extra dramatic effect, nodding vigorously as Darren met him with a baffled but equally disgusted expression, “I know, bro. He’s a fuckin rottener; thinks he can get away with it ‘cause he’s a queer or su’um.” 

Preston’s face was blocked by the back of Amelia’s head as Darren tried to get a look at him once again, shaking his head with a repulsed tut as he turned back to Eoin.

“Dirty scanger. How’d ye find out, anyway?” He asked, knowing if Calum was involved then the means of interrogation were hardly going to have been calm.

“He just said it to Cal.” Eoin shrugged, skipping over a few details with his recollection, “Fuckin Mr Dunne came in though, pure pedo, ripped Cal off Preston ‘cause he had him up against the wall. I just left though, but I dunno.. he’s definitely gettin’ kicked out this time.”

“Fuck Dunne.” Darren grumbled, recalling the countless art lessons with the man where he’d targeted him for, what the teenager would call, ‘no reason’. He’d only chosen art because Eoin did anyway, thought it’d just be a doss subject, which was far from the truth.

Calum was nowhere to be seen for the rest of the lesson, or the one after that, so it became apparent to his friends that he’d been sent home early, which was hardly a punishment. Neither Darren or Eoin could be too jealous though, Wednesday was a half-day for their school anyway and so after Irish they were free to go.

“I’m goin’ ‘round Cal’s.” Eoin yawned as he and Darren left the gates, the latter of the two rolling his eyes as he heard that nickname for what must be the millionth time today.

“Grand, see ya, bro.” Darren nodded, heading off in his own direction, shrugging his schoolbag up further on his back as his irritation grew.

Fuck those two. Everyday now it seemed they were going off and doing something without him. Why couldn’t he have been in the bathrooms with them earlier, for one? He would have been better physical back up than Eoin for god’s sake. Not that Calum would have needed it against Preston of all people, but still. He just felt like both of their second options ever since the start of Summer, which was just ridiculous, especially since he’d been friends with both of them first. He’d known Eoin since they were babies!

Distracted by his annoyance, Darren hardly realised he’d been slowly gaining on Preston as the fella plodded on ahead of him. The Cabra boy, however, had been all too aware, biting at his nails with nerves until he decided to just get this over with.

“What d’ye want, now?” Preston snapped, turning around to face Darren and stopping the confused fella in his tracks.

“Wha?” Darren blurted out, looking up to the fella in front of him with a confused frown which became tainted with more anger upon realising who it was, “Piss off, I’m just walkin’ to me gaff!”

“Not gonna batter any birds on me way, either.” He added in a grumble, walking past Preston with a shove.

The shorter lad wasn’t about to take this being used against him for the next few weeks just like his sexuality already was. Even if the truth of it was that he had got into a fight with a girl, the lads couldn’t know that, in the same way that they absolutely couldn't know the reasoning that made it acceptable for him to have done so in the first place.

“Here, I didn’t get into a scrap with a girl!” He protested, storming after Darren a few steps to catch up with him, “Yer mates must be deaf or su’um ‘cause I said ‘he’ and they clearly heard me say ‘she’.” 

Darren looked down at Preston with slight disbelief, as if he couldn’t believe a lad like him had the nerve to come over and snap in his face, yet here he was. He was lost for words momentarily, such an outburst genuinely taking him off guard. 

“Whatever, I don’t even care, bro.” He dismissed, beginning to walk off again only for Preston to come along with him.

“Well fuckin tell them that too.” Preston implored, his tone coming out biting despite the overwhelming nerves that were bubbling inside him with each word he spoke. 

Darren rolled his eyes, genuinely having become so drained in the past few hours that Preston could say almost anything to him and it wouldn’t garner much reaction. Especially not anything about his ‘mates’, if anything he was more likely to join in than defend them right now.

“Alright! Just fuck off, will ya?” Darren dismissed, speeding up considerably now as he stomped up the road, Preston just watching him confusedly from his bus stop which they’d conveniently reached just as the taller boy had decided to make his dramatic exit.

***

16th September 2024, almost two weeks later

Preston hadn’t returned to school since that Wednesday when the whole bathroom situation had gone down. He’d come down with some sort of sickness bug, which was undoubtedly due to the stress of school, although he of course hadn’t let the reason slip to his Ma. It had pretty much cleared up by half-way through the second week, but the boy dragged it out as long as he could for some time away from those bastards at school. He kept the act up to Amelia as well, feeling bad for lying to her over text but not wanting to lose the only friend he had there at the same time. When Monday rolled around, however, he had no choice.

“No, yer gettin’ up, Preston. Come on, I’m not having a letter from that bleedin’ school askin’ me where you’ve been - they’ve already rang for a doctor’s note!” His Ma went on as she stood over his bed, pulling back the warm duvet and making him squirm.

“Ma! I’m sick!” Preston tried to fake, although couldn’t hold back his smile once he met his Ma’s knowing gaze, “Awh, Ma, come on!”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with ye anymore.. except laziness. Up!” She instructed, although was laughing along ever-so-slightly with her son too, “There’s a trip on today anyway, yous won’t even be doing work.”

Preston perked up at the mention of a trip, sitting up in his bed as he did so, any attempt of faking sick immediately scrapped now. 

“Wha? Where?” He questioned, fingers idly playing with the press-fastens of his duvet. 

“Custom house.” His Ma replied, snickering as Preston groaned in response, “Come on, it’ll be a break from school, no matter how boring.”

She left him to get ready with that, the boy knowing he didn’t really have a choice, unless he really wanted her to worry again. He dressed in a baggy pair of grey joggers and a black hoodie with a graphic on the back, fixing his hair in the mirror. It’d been bleached with highlights over his time off, his Ma hoping it’d lift his spirits slightly, which it certainly had, although the thought of returning to school with even such a small change in appearance was a daunting one. Picking up his phone, he opened Snapchat to text Amelia, grinning at her immediate response.

-Could i sit with u on the bus? Im coming back in today 😭

-Ofc!! I'll meet you outside school x

The two text back and forth as Preston made his way to school, the boy at least now having some consolation that part of today would go decently.

***

Similarly, Calum had not been planning on coming into school today, school trip or not. Although, after a mostly sleepless night of screaming matches all throughout his house, the blonde decided he wasn’t staying there any longer. 

Calum’s bedroom was cold and entirely uninviting. Three out of four of the walls were painted dark blue, the odd one out being a stained off-white. Paint and chunks of plaster were chipped off all around, some from just general carelessness whilst the majority came from the teenager’s frequent violent outbursts which had plagued him since childhood. His bed was pushed up in the corner of the room, usually not even being covered by a mattress sheet, which only added to the off-putting image of it all. A dark grey duvet sat bunched up in the middle of it, his latest disposable vape discarded somewhere inside after he’d fallen asleep with it in his mouth. Lent up against the wall were his two pillows, one covered with a matching pillowcase to the duvet, whilst the other was bare and turned a discoloured yellow from sweat. Clothes both clean and dirty littered the floor, his wardrobe standing pointlessly over to one side, only used to hide the money his uncle would sneak him from his thieving mother. Cold morning air filed in through the crack in his windowframe, the black mould that had begun to sprout around it hardly helping his already damaged lungs.

Searching through the masses of clothes on the floor and judging their cleanliness with a mere sniff, Calum sorted an outfit, leaving the house as soon as he could afterwards, his Da shouting after him even still.

“Fuck off, Da!” Calum croaked out, his voice paining him slightly to speak at this point.

The walk to school was hardly far, Calum spotting Eoin straight away as he turned onto the road, the fella always picking out the most vibrant tracksuits he could find, leaving him walking around looking like a giant ice-pop. 

“Alright, bro?” The blonde greeted, placing a strong arm down on Eoin’s shoulder and physically pulling him out of conversation with Niall, who scowled but clearly wasn’t bothered to deal with Calum right now.

“Heya, Cal.” Eoin replied, smiling slightly awkwardly as he hoped the blonde hadn’t noticed how he’d just jumped when he was greeted.

“What the fuck are yers all doin outside?” Calum asked with a furrowed brow, sitting down on a short wall beside him and taking a puff of his vape, handing it over to Eoin afterwards.

“There’s a trip on, bro. I mean.. sounds fuckin borin but.. better than school.” The brunette shrugged, trailing off as he realised Calum didn’t even look like he was listening to him properly, which he wasn’t.

“Yeah, okay.” He mumbled, running a tired hand over his face as he fought the urge to just fall back asleep, that one hour of rest he’d got not exactly doing wonders.

Eoin just pulled out his phone after handing Calum his vape back, staring down at Tiktok as he mindlessly scrolled through videos, wishing Darren would hurry up so he’d actually have someone to talk to. Although, of course, he didn’t. The only fresh face Eoin’s eyes were met with was Preston’s, a sight which caused an immediate frown. 

“Bro, look who’s back.” He murmured, nudging Calum as he did so, waking the fella up from where he’d almost drifted off.

“Wha?” He asked irritably, his eyes following Eoin’s over to the new fella, his gaze narrowing at the sight.

“Fuckin hell, state of his hair.” Calum grumbled, pushing himself up from the wall as he spoke to board the coach that had just pulled up.

Eoin snickered on command at his friend’s comment, eyes fixed on Preston so forcibly that he almost didn’t notice Calum walk off to get on the bus, scurrying along embarrassedly after him when he did. The two sat at the back, of course, Calum with his back against the window and feet up on the seats, Eoin copying him on the opposite end, as if to even be caught sitting next to your friend on the bus could be considered gay. The two didn’t speak for the majority of the journey, Calum falling asleep after the first few minutes of being on the move anyway. Eoin texted Darren multiple times but received no reply, the tanned boy biting his lip as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, overthinking every recent conversation the two had had to try and find some evidence of where he may have slipped up, although nothing came to mind. 

When they arrived at their destination, Calum woke up like clockwork the second the bus stopped, his twenty minute nap seemingly being enough to have energised him for the time being, the blonde storming off the bus with Eoin in tow, snickering as he shoved some random weedy fella out of his way.

“Fuckin queer.”

Eoin smirked widely as Calum began to act like himself again, even if that was something no sane fella should really be celebrating, he hurried to catch up with his mate, walking with his chest puffed out further as Calum slung an arm around him, the touch a sort of status symbol to Eoin. 

“Right, guys!” Their history teacher, Mr Tierney, spoke up in his grating Southside accent, Eoin pulling a face as he did so and revelling in Calum’s accompanying snigger, “The first part of this trip is a tour, so I need you all to stay together, right. No bunking off in the toilets; Talking to you, Calum.”

Calum’s expression immediately soured as the teacher called him out and a few heads turned to him, Mr Tierney speaking in that irritating tone that teachers always put on when they try to joke with you as if you’re friends.

“Fuck off, sir.” The blonde spat, arising a few sniggers from his classmates that the teacher attempted to shut down.

Calum hadn’t even been planning on slipping off like that, although now the man had put the idea into his head, there was no way he and Eoin were sticking around for some mind-numbing tour. I mean, what even was a custom house? Certainly not something Calum cared enough to find out about. Just from the outside it looked dull as anything, he highly doubted there was something inside the place that could change his mind, apart from a decent bathroom to smoke a joint in. 

After a few minutes, a haggard old woman with a lanyard around her neck stepped outside to greet the group, Eoin and Calum shooting each other a similar disgusted look.

“What a ride.” Calum smirked, Eoin unable to hold in a snort of laughter, making a group of girls in front of him turn to give him a judgmental stare, which Calum had to look away from to not laugh himself.

They were all led inside soon after, Calum already scouting out a sign for the bathrooms, nudging Eoin in the direction of them once he spotted it.

“Here, fuck this, come on.” He mumbled, Eoin the more wary of the two as he checked his back at least fifty times as they walked off, Calum scoffing and pushing him along.

“Come on, it’s only Tierney. The fuck is he gonna do?” He pressed, hand still digging almost painfully into Eoin’s back until they reached the door to the bathrooms.

An over-powering stench of bleach hit the two lads as they entered, the piercing whiteness of the bathrooms almost enough to blind them. There was a wider cubicle at the end of the row which was clearly for disability access, Calum and Eoin selfishly occupying this one so they had more room to sit down. The blonde took a seat on top of the closed toilet, Eoin taking the space on the floor next to him, slumped down as he let his legs sprawl out across the floor. Not wasting a second, Calum pulled a pre-roll he’d bought from his dealer, Aidan, the night before out of his pocket, holding it between his lips as he lit it. Eoin rolled his eyes at the thought of where it had come from. He couldn’t stand Aidan at all. In fairness, the two had only met once, but Eoin found that was more than enough for him. He was a scruffy pox, to put it kindly. Calum was his only friend, no matter how much Aidan tried to act like that wasn’t the truth. He went on like he knew everything about the blonde; Calum had sided with him too when he’d begun slagging Eoin off, which only added to the boy’s dismay. Every time Eoin tried to say anything though, Calum would just either snap at him or jokingly accuse him of being a racist, as if him being Romani had anything to do with the fact he was a massive prick.

“Eoin, bro? Hello!” Calum called out, waving his hand in front of his mate’s face patronisingly and snapping him out of his thoughts.

He was holding the joint out to him, smirking with an eye roll as Eoin took it now, clearly having been thinking about something.

“Fuckin spa.” He tittered, gaze lingering on his friend as he watched him take a puff, always finding it funny how he seemed to cough his guts up every single time he had the first drag, which of course played out exactly as Calum had expected it to, the blonde finding himself in fits of laughter as Eoin spluttered the smoke back out, his eyes watering with painful tears.

“Fuck off!.. It’s not.. fuckin funny!” Eoin protested, thumping Calum on the leg with a balled up fist and only making the other fella laugh more. 

Eoin kept his forearm rested atop Calum’s knee as he slowly regained his breath, the taller boy leaning down to snatch the joint directly from Eoin’s mouth, his fingertip accidentally poking into his mouth as he did so, the brunette flinching back when it did.

“Wha?” Calum immediately snapped, his own insecurities so embarrassingly deep-rooted he couldn’t handle even the slightest insinuation that he’d meant to do something so minimally intimate with his friend, “I didn’t do that on fuckin purpose, ye know that!”

Eoin just looked back at him with widened eyes, internally cursing himself for reacting to the touch as Calum looked set to really kick off, his childish nature coming out massively. In a fit of anger, he shoved Eoin’s arm from his leg with such force it sent the fella’s entire upper body slamming into the locked door of the cubicle.

“ Just fuck off! Makin’ me out to be a fuckin’ faggot?! Fuck off, Eoin! ” He yelled, properly this time, the brunette not even daring to try and protest, just leaving the stall in a huff with his head hung low, only annoyed at himself for ruining something more. For fuck’s sake, it was always him, wasn’t it?

Chapter Text

17th September 2024

Darren’s morning had started as miserably as usual, the fella barely having gotten any rest the night before. Eoin had been around until nearly eleven o’clock, the majority of their time together spent with him complaining about how much of a cunt Calum had been to him. Darren silently revelled in it at first, how it seemed as if the fella was finally opening his eyes to the reason their other friend kept him so close. Although, the more this dragged on, the more sick of hearing the blonde’s name he became.

“Just shut up about Calum, for fuck’s sake! Ye go on like yous are riding or su’um!” He’d snapped after about two hours worth of the same drivel, Eoin at least then getting the hint and being some decent company for the rest of the night.

Darren’s Ma was quick to dampen the mood as soon as Eoin left though, storming up the stairs to scold him for having friends in the house on such short notice. The teenager had barely given her the satisfaction of a reply; he knew she didn’t care in reality, she was just picking fights for the sake of doing so. She’d gone funny like that ever since Darren’s older brother, Lee, had died three years ago. His Ma still felt her grief exactly the same as she had done in the first days, only now it had festered for so long that it just came out as anger. Love shrouded by anger that she constantly fired off to all those around her. 

The morning had been no different as he awoke to the woman as his own personal alarm clock once again, shouting back at her just to shut her up so he could get an extra twenty minutes of sleep. Although, of course, this only meant that by the time he got downstairs, the toast that had been made for him was stone cold and beginning to harden around the edges. Still, he ate it on his way to school, passing by the same dull scenery as always. 

He found Eoin waiting around for him in the hallways, his arms folded in a huff as he looked over to Calum, who was talking loudly on the phone.

“The fuck is he talkin’ to?” Darren asked with a furrowed brow, his gaze on the blonde now too.

Darren’s abrupt words made Eoin nearly jump out of his skin, having not even seen the fella walk up to him. 

“Wha? Oh, poxy Kayleigh.” Eoin grumbled, Darren unable to hold back a snicker as the brunette essentially revealed he was jealous of a girl of all people.

“Bro, she’s rotten. Why’s he goin’ for her?” Darren asked, steering Eoin - and hopefully the conversation - away from the blonde as the two began to walk the halls, his arm around the tan boy’s shoudlers.

“That’s what I’ve been sayin!” Eoin replied, clearly very passionate on the subject, “She pure got fingered by Mark Sweeney in the Stretch, bro! She’s probably riddled!”

Darren snickered as Eoin reminded him of that story, shaking his head at the thought of being caught dead doing anything with a bird in a public park like that, especially one as filthy as the Stretch. Thankfully, the conversation slowly drifted to topics that were separate from 

Calum, Darren happy to listen to Eoin bang on about one of those stupid animes he watched and acted like he didn’t so long as their discussion wasn’t just a repeat of the night before. His good mood could hardly last for long, however, as right as the two rounded the corner onto an adjoining hallway, they were met with the one fella Darren hadn’t wanted to see today.

Preston stood at his locker alone, taking the few things he’d need for the morning classes out and putting the other rubbish back in. He hadn’t seen Darren or Eoin but it didn’t take long for him to hear them.

“Ah, what the fuck has he done to his hair!” The dark-haired boy complained loudly, seeing one little thing he disliked immediately ruining his mood once again.

Eoin snickered along from the side, speaking up now Darren had given him the confidence to, “Tryna make himself look more like a fag.”

Preston bit his lip, closing his eyes momentarily to regain his composure before shutting his locker, pushing down any nerves he had when he turned to the two lads.

“Wha?” He asked simply, tone full of attitude as he frowned back at them.

Darren wasn’t about to take disrespect from a lad like Preston when he was already having such a shitty start to his day, especially not when this time it was in front of people instead of how things had been the other week on the way home from school, that one encounter clearly making Preston feel bigger than he was.

“Who are ye talking to?” Eoin jumped in before his mate could, stepping towards the other fella as if he even had the balls to do anything that would land him with a suspension.

“What’s yer problem?” Preston retorted, Eoin’s expression faltering momentarily as he was actually met with some opposition. 

“You, bro.” Darren butted in immediately, not even giving Preston’s words a chance to hang in the air, “Comin’ in here with tha’ fuckin’ gay haircut. Tryna pull Niall or su’um?”

Eoin laughed at his mate’s joke, although it only left Preston confused as to why Niall was being brought into this, presuming they must not be referring to the fella in their class in the end. What was gay about him? He’d thought the three were mates anyway.

“What’s wrong with my hair? It’s a bit of bleach.” Preston continued to try and defend, although he knew in reality this wouldn’t get him anywhere.

“Yeah, exactly . What fella’s goin around dyin’ his hair?” Darren argued back, seeing how Preston was cracking already and smirking at the sight. 

“Yer a pure queer, bro. Cop onto yerself.” He added in a slightly more snapping tone, stepping in just a small amount and making the other boy flit his eyes to the ground with growing fear.

Couldn’t they all just fuck off? For one day, at least. Preston had only spent such a little amount of time at this school and already he was debating everyday whether or not to tell his Ma he was dropping out. Sure enough, he had one friend who was really sweet, but the lads brought him far more torment than Amelia did comfort.

Sighing shortly, Preston moved to just walk away, Darren catching him with a shove right as he turned and sending the young lad head first into someone’s open locker. Laughter rang out from some of the few people in the corridor who’d been witness to the cruelty, others meeting Darren’s actions with words of disapproval that didn’t carry any actual sympathy in them at all. 

“Oh my god, Darren, yer so mean!” A girl giggled as she walked past with her group, using Preston being a victim of bullying to try and flirt with the fella tormenting him.

Preston’s forehead stung sharply as he pushed himself up from the floor, the fella clasping a hand to it and wincing, heading off in the other direction as quickly as he could.

***

“You have to tell someone, Preston.” Amelia begged futilely, studying the lad’s forehead as they sat together in English, biting her lip with worry.

The mark had shown itself to be a fully fledged cut now, the few bits of blood that had pooled out of it dry and crusted, able to be flicked off with just a wipe of his sleeve. It still stung from time to time when his hair would brush off it in certain ways, or when he’d forget it was there all together and go to rest his head in his hand.

“I’m hardly reporting him.” Preston dismissed, this not being the first time the two had had this discussion since the school year started, Amelia far more adamant about it now that there was physical proof of the fellas’ torment, “It’ll just make things worse, I’ll have Calum at me door waiting to batter me by the time I get home.”

He snickered lightly as he spoke, trying to play this all off as a joke to get the girl off his back, although as she raised her eyebrows in response, Preston’s face only fell.

“What and you think that won’t happen anyway if you keep letting them get away with it?” Amelia countered, the boy next to her just looking down with slight shame, “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Pres, but come on. They clearly need teaching some sort of lesson.”

“I know. I’ll think about it.” Preston compromised, hearing Amelia sigh next to him as she turned back to her work and hardly feeling great about it.

The constant drone of the same lads who’d put him in this situation in the first place of course accompanied him in this lesson too, as in all. Even art - bar Calum. Preston hardly had much experience being around fellas like this after only going through girl’s schools all his life, but he’d never expected yup bros of all people to be sitting in his art room. I mean, genuinely, what was Darren Whelan going to do with an art leaving cert? Eoin was surprisingly and even more annoyingly good at the subject but Darren ? God. 

Darren and Eoin must have recounted Preston’s earlier crash into the locker to Calum at least fifty times by now, each time the blonde finding it funnier than the last.

“Bro, I wish I saw tha’!” He laughed on from the back of the room, neither of the other two boys at all tired of retelling this yet. 

“Ye were too busy pullin’, bro.” Darren messed, Calum pulling a smug face in response.

“I’m goin’ to her gaff at the weekend. Tried to come to mine I said fuck tha’!” Calum laughed on, making a joke out of his home situation really the only way he could stand to go back to it. 

“Have to get through piles of yer shitty jocks to reach yer bed.” Eoin chimed in, Calum slapping him around the back of the head in what he would consider to be a joking response.

“Fuck up, Eo. Rather be in my gaff than yours.” He lied, Darren still agreeing for the sake of it. 

“Scaldy little gaff you live in, Eoin, bro.” The dark-haired fella joined in teasing, despite the trio knowing that Eoin’s house was by far the best out of any of theirs.

“Shut up, Dar. Rather be on the traveller site than deal with your fat Ma breathin’ down me neck all day.” Eoin clapped back, part of him bracing for the impact of another slap, although finding it thankfully never came. 

“Whatever, bro. Yer sister’s ridin’ a traveller anyway.” Darren retorted, the truth of that statement to him perhaps more of a slap than Calum could ever give, the brunette shutting up afterwards.

***

For the three fellas, today seemed to be flying in, lunch feeling as if it came much sooner than usual. They walked down to the shops with Niall tagging along too, the other fellas he usually sat with in class having just gone home.

“Bro, Niall, seen that new fella in our class? What d’ye reckon?” Darren asked jokingly, Calum looking like he was going to be sick at even the mention of something gay, focusing his attention back on texting Kayleigh.

“Wha, that Preston fella? Nahh, bro. He’s like.. too gay.” Niall shut down, laughing slightly out of awkwardness as he did so, not so stupid that he didn’t see how Darren’s question was taking the piss out of him too. 

“Fuck d’ye mean ‘ too gay’ ? Yous both take it up the arse.” Eoin countered, Darren nodding over like he’d just made some profound statement. 

“Fuck off, Eoin. Ye know what I mean.” Niall shrugged, not really having so much against Preston that he’d be going off slagging him just for a bit of a laugh. 

“Yeah but like.. have ye seen his hair?” Eoin pestered.

“Bro, don’t mention that fuckin hair to me.” Calum piped up angrily, eyes still on his phone, the other lads sniggering at his annoyance, “Fella looks like a poxy hamster. It’s rotten, it is.” 

“Hardly that bleedin bad, Cal. Fella suits it at least.” Niall countered, Calum rolling his eyes as he shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Course you’re gonna stick up for him, ye queer fuckin bastard!” The blonde started, clearly having been waiting for a chance to take his irritation out on Niall.

The other fella only groaned, not at all in the mood to be dealing with one of the blonde’s ‘moments’, especially when all he’d done was say he liked a lad’s hair. 

“Piss off, bro. I’m not startin’ with ye.” Niall dismissed, pushing past Calum as he headed to join the queue for the deli counter that had stretched outside the shop with how busy it was, Darren just nodding a goodbye to Calum and Eoin as they went back to the latter’s gaff, the blonde’s grumbles audible all the way down the road. 

Niall took his phone out from the pocket of his coat as he stood in the queue, pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger from where they’d begun to slip down. He felt Darren’s presence behind him and stepped to the side to allow the other lad to wait with him, neither really speaking for the time being. 

The spectacled boy had his eyes glued to his screen, biting his bottom lip as he tried not to get sick at the sexual messages he was receiving on Grindr from a fella who claimed to be thirty-four. Although, upon closer inspection, there was no way he was less than fifty. He typed back exactly what the man wanted to hear even so, knowing Darren was watching the entire time.

“Bro, would ye not just sell some weed or su’um?” Darren asked, his tone sharing the same repulsed nature that Niall was feeling, even if he was used to it by now.

“Sellin’ a bit of weed doesn’t get ye a grand in one night.” Niall shrugged, his words no more than a mumble as he slipped his phone away, ignoring the persistent buzzing that continued even with it out of sight in his pocket. 

Darren just shook his head and looked away, his hands in his pockets as he waited for the queue to slowly go down, only growing hungrier all the while. 

***

Niall was the first to speak again once the lads had left the shop, chicken fillet rolls in hand. He was planning on just going home, although the bus stop that would get him to Ballymun was past the school and so he still had to walk the same way. 

“What’s even your problem with Preston? Has he done attin?” The teen asked, looking to his friend curiously as he ate his way through his roll.

Darren’s brows furrowed as Niall spoke, the question certainly catching him off guard. 

“Wha? He’s g-… I mean…” Darren trailed off embarrassedly, Niall raising his eyebrows with a knowing expression.

“So am I, bro.” He reminded, taking another bite of his roll before continuing, “He’s literally just a normal fella though. Like, he wears Nike jackets ‘n’ all. It’s not like there’s some big bleedin’ emo walkin’ around the class. I know I said he’s ‘too gay’ earlier but, like, come on, Dar.”

Darren scowled across at Niall, although couldn’t help but let his expression slowly soften the more he went on, the Ballymunner somehow able to get through to him. 

“Just don’t be a prick, bro.” Niall  finished, dapping his mate up before leaving to catch his bus.

With Niall’s departure, Darren didn’t have anyone to spend his lunch break with. A problem which could be easily fixed should he just walk to Eoin’s house, although he pushed that thought away as if it had never crossed his mind. Instead, he just strolled the corridors and yard, chicken fillet roll in one hand and a blue energiser in the other, slowly making his way through both. 

Amelia had had to leave school for a dentist’s appointment at the start of lunch, which she apologised for extensively as if it was her fault. Preston had only laughed, saying he’d just ask his own Ma to send him home, only for her to end up saying no. So now, the fella was stuck sitting against a wall around the back of the outside of the school, an area which he supposed not many people knew about based on how empty it was. At least, until he began to hear slow footsteps growing louder from around the corner. 

“Eh- What’re you doin’ here?” Darren’s voice came ringing out, Preston’s heart dropping at the first word, looking up from his phone to rather timidly meet his gaze, more put off than usual by the fact that there was no-one else around. 

“Er.. I’m just sitting here..” Preston replied, unsure what else to say. Was he not meant to or something?

“Well, yeah. I know.” Darren tutted, kicking a bit of gravel before sitting down on the ground with Preston, still leaving a good gap between the two. 

Preston could hardly believe the fella as he just sat down like he hadn’t slammed the boy’s head into a locker only this morning. He looked at him with a bewildered expression, Darren able to feel it and grumbling to himself, looking back up at Preston to say something but faltering.

“Is tha’ from me?” He asked, tone faintly laced with what Preston would dare to call guilt as Darren’s gaze slid up to the other lad’s cut forehead.

“Obviously.” Preston replied sharper than he’d intended to, not about to let his guard down just because the fella had shown a bit of sympathy. It didn’t take much to do that.

“Oh..” Darren responded, looking down for a moment before back up to Preston.

He hadn’t expected it to be that bad. In fact, he hadn’t expected it to have left a mark at all, let alone cut the fella. It was just a little joke, he’d hardly meant for Preston to actually get hurt.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, noticing Preston’s face momentarily switch to an expression of even further confusion, before he just settled neutrally.

“Whatever, it’s okay.” He shrugged, even if he cursed himself internally at being such a push over.

Darren nodded, looking off to the side before sighing, pushing his half-drank bottle of energiser towards Preston. As if that was some intensely sincere gesture, to be given a half-empty sports drink with some yup bro’s spit all over the top. Still, he accepted. I mean, he was hardly going to say anything out of line when he’d only, this morning, been given a slice in his forehead by the lad next to him.

“Thanks.” He muttered, just resting the bottle in between his legs.

After a quiet moment, Darren stood up, nodding once more. He hovered in place for a second, before speaking again.

“Err.. just ignore Calum if he ever starts on ye.. there’s probably su’um wrong with him…. See ye.”

Even Darren hadn’t a clue what that was, cringing as he walked away and couldn’t get his last words out of his head. ‘Ignore Calum..there’s probably something wrong with him.’ Jesus Christ. He couldn’t have just said ‘bye’ like a normal person? Although, of course, it was Preston that was left more confused by that entire conversation.

Chapter Text

23rd September 2024, the next Monday

The rest of the previous week had passed rather quickly for Preston. Granted, he was still dealing with torment from the three boys, but with how normalised that was becoming, he found it only really affected him now when something major happened, which thankfully didn’t occur past the locker incident. Darren’s apology had soon proved itself to be an empty one, Preston just feeling stupid for even having that glimmer of hope that things could be  looking up for him. Only the very next morning Darren was back to spewing his usual homophobic hatred towards him, Preston not even giving him the satisfaction of a reaction at this point, just walking off whenever they all started. 

One thing he did notice, however, was that Darren seemed less bothered by Preston’s presence when it was just the two of them. He’d still throw a dirty look the boy’s way when passing him in the halls, but that was the worst of it. Whatever, he’d take what he could get. 

***

Eoin couldn’t help but notice the fact that Calum was acting stranger than usual, Darren agreeing with him when he’d brought it up, although a little dismissively in his case. He was tetchier than usual, but quieter too, like there was something on his mind. He sat in between Eoin and Darren at their desk in maths, nibbling at the skin on his bottom lip as he stared off into space.

“You alright, Cal?” Eoin tried nervously, only to be immediately shut down by the blonde.

“Piss off.” He snapped, looking to Eoin with a piercing glare, the brunette turning back to his work straight away, even if he wasn’t actually doing any. 

Darren only raised his eyebrows with a slight I-told-you-so look on his face, moving his head to look away from Calum to avoid becoming victim to his next burst of anger. It wasn’t at all unusual for Calum to be like this. In fact, it was something of a weekly occurrence by this point, Eoin and Darren going back and forward with what little thing could have got under his skin this time. Although, today nothing came to mind. Apart from…

“So wha’ happened with Kayleigh, then?” Darren piped up, instantly noticing Calum’s face twitch in that certain way that it tended to when he’d been caught out. 

“The fuck d’ye mean? I rode her.” Calum replied, telling the truth, although definitely not the whole story.

“Why ye in a pisser about it now then? Was yer dick too small for her or su’um?” Darren teased, so bored in this class he’d do anything for a laugh, even if that meant riling up the psycho next to him.

Eoin scooted his chair away from Calum the second Darren spoke, wishing he wouldn’t keep doing shite like this when he was around. Darren could hold his own with Calum in a fight whereas he’d get killed with the first punch. 

Calum’s face instantly flashed with anger as he snapped his head back towards Darren, the fella in question only snickering right back at him. Two strong hands lifted to catch the dark-haired boy’s monterrain jacket in a tight grip, pulling him in just that little bit closer that Calum needed.

“Ye wanna fuckin say that again?” He snarled through gritted teeth, Darren far too used to all of this to even react past laughter. 

“Yeah. You’ve got a tiny cock, bro.” He repeated smugly, a few people in the vicinity turning around to watch, Preston and Amelia included.

Calum’s anger burned even more powerfully inside him with every word spoken, the growing number of eyes on him only pushing him to prove himself, as if anyone in this room doubted his capability to defend himself. With an angered grunt, he shoved Darren backwards, the fella falling out of his chair and to the floor. Calum stood up as the other lad went down, hovering over him as everyone in the room watched on now. 

“ Go on, say it again! ” He near-yelled, kicking Darren provokingly in the hip as the fella remained down on the floor.

Darren scrambled to his feet with a deep frown after the pain of the kick hit him, Calum somehow hitting right on his bone. He shoved his friend back with as much strength as he could work up, a few fellas around the room pulling their phones out to film whilst others called out to egg the two lads on. Their poor teacher, Mrs Sharma, fretted around by her desk, being such a little woman that she could hardly break up a fight between two girls let alone these seventeen and sixteen-year-old fellas.

“Boys! Boys! Stop this please!” She called out panickedly, seeming as if she had a death wish as she neared the pair. 

She was only met with racist abuse in response from Calum, the class giving a mixed reaction of disgusted shock and laughter to his words, Mrs Sharma looking on the verge of tears as she walked away pitifully. 

“Erin, please go and get Mr Mahone.” She instructed as she headed back to her desk, the girl in question getting up immediately to fetch the teacher from next door.

By the time Erin had returned with Mr Mahone in tow, Calum had Darren pinned down against a desk, neither of the lads getting many good hits in as their arms tangled and squirmed. A crowd had gathered around the pair, Mrs Sharma doing her best to keep the students back but to no avail. The male teacher, however, simply stormed through the group of teenagers, grabbing Calum by the hood of his jacket and yanking him up, the blonde having to move with him to avoid being choked by his own attire.

“ Fuck off me, sir! Ye can’t touch me like that! ” Calum called out, flailing his arms around like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“I can, Calum, when you're putting another student in danger.” Mr Mahone replied, sternly but with a professional calmness.

The blonde’s further protests went ignored as the two were led out of the classroom and into the principal's office, Darren too being held by the back of his jacket as he was walked through the halls. 

*** 

“How many times are we going to do this lads?” The principal, a bald man who must be in his late forties at the youngest, spoke up, looking across his desk to Darren and Calum with a disappointed expression.

Upon getting no response, he sighed, pinching his nose in defeat before continuing, “Calum, you’re an adult next year, you’ve already been held back a year on top of that. You should be taking the leaving cert this summer but because of your own stupidity you’re back to square one.”

Calum hung his head shamefully, the looming fear of failure always coming back around to haunt him, no matter how much he tried to act as if he didn’t care. He didn’t have a single person in his family to base his life off: his Ma never achieved anything better than a part-time job at Euro giant; his Dad was an alcoholic that drank away every wage he earned and his Uncle was only two steps away from being a junkie and made a living selling knock-off perfumes around the back of the Ilac. Not to mention his Ma’s side of the family had completely cut them all off when Calum was around ten years old. Really, all he wanted was to actually succeed in something; to get on a career path that didn’t involve drugs at any point, but, realistically, he knew he had more chance of being in jail by the time the year was out than passing his summer exams. 

“I know.” He grumbled flatly, unsure what else he could say at this point, “Don’t care anyway. I’m just gonna fail.”

The principal huffed irritably at Calum’s words, turning his attention towards Darren instead, having labelled the blonde as a lost cause months ago already. 

“And you, Darren,” He began, “I thought you were getting on the right path, what’s all this fighting for? You two are mates, aren’t ye?”

Darren sighed lightly, kicking at the carpet with his shoe, not making eye contact with the man in front of him either.

“Just a scrap, sir. I started it.” He shrugged, not about to let Calum get into more trouble than it was worth. Especially when he could hardly be far off expulsion at this point. 

“Fine, Darren, if you want to take the blame for it.” The Principal tutted, clearly not believing the teen even as he told the truth. He signed off two sheets of paper to be sent to both boy’s parents as he spoke, sliding them down into his drawer before returning his gaze to the pair, “Go on, back to class.”

***

Darren sat separately from Eoin and Calum in their next lesson, taking a desk to himself in the corner and actually getting on with his Irish work for once, even if part of him wished he’d just been able to still sit with them to scrounge all the answers from Calum, what with him going to a gaelscoil. From the corner of his eye, he could see the two of them talking, no doubt about him. Darren just played it off as if he didn’t care, focusing on what was in front of him only, although that social anxiety that chose when and when not to come to the forefront was going wild in his mind, every laugh that came from the lads’ desk making him wince as he was certain they were all aimed at him.

Of course, a few were, but after fifteen minutes in the class Calum had grown bored of talking about Darren, Eoin not taking long to realise this and quickly switch the conversation up.

“What did happen wi’ Kayleigh, then?” The brunette asked, having no time to backtrack after he’d spoken, having just let slip the first thing that came to mind.

“Wha’? Wha’ ye tryna say?” Calum questioned, visibly stiffening as he frowned down at Eoin.

“Wha’? Nothin’! I just mean.. ye know.. what happened? ” Eoin smirked cringely with his last two words, Calum unable to not laugh as his mate just embarrassed himself, getting his anger out on Darren earlier having put him in a considerably better mood. 

“I fucked her, what d’ye think? Ye pure virgin.” The blonde retorted, scribbling down a few phrases as he spoke, Irish one of the only lessons he actually participated in seeing as how he had it so easy. 

Eoin’s brows furrowed defensively at Calum’s accusation, even if it was completely true. He was deadset on not letting any of the other lads find that out, despite them all being fully aware.

“Bro, ye know I’m not a virgin.” He mumbled, his cheeks likely visibly red if he didn’t spend so much time on the sunbeds, “I literally fucked loads of birds in third year, Cal. Ye know tha’.. haha.” 

Calum only snickered, deep down glad that the conversation had been steered away from the events of Saturday night, the strangeness of it all still sticking with him. 

He’d got to Kayleigh’s house at around eight o’clock at night, her parents both out and the girl having the place to herself, as was planned. The two had been getting on far better than Calum ever had with a girl, friendship wise, girls seemed to fall at his feet otherwise, as if drawn in by how much of a horrible scumbag he was. Kayleigh was different, though, he found he could actually have a laugh with her; that she got the same jokes he did and would mess on with him - in a way - as if she was another fella. But that’s not to say she was at all a tomboy of any sorts, she was the exact opposite really. Calum had never seen her without her hair perfectly straightened, its natural dirty blonde colour highlighted with bleached streaks that complimented her beautifully. Her nails and lashes were always freshly done, as was her tan which genuinely never seemed to be patchy. 

Although, of course, Calum hadn’t gone around to her house just for a laugh. The two did end up sleeping together, no matter how much the blonde’s earlier tantrum had made it seem as if he was lying, it was just.. something about this time seemed off in a way. Kayleigh was far from the first girl Calum had had sex with, so he really couldn’t understand why this time had been so different. He’d liked it, he supposed, so had she, but it was like whatever it was had left both of them incomplete. 

“Er.. we can just not talk about this, Cal. If ye want.” She’d suggested a few minutes after they’d finished, turning her head to face him as the two lay in bed together, Calum looking down with an unreadable expression as he bit his lip. 

“Yeah.. sound.” He’d nodded, not even making eye contact with her as he responded, only getting up from the bed to find his boxers on Kayleigh’s floor, tossing over her own underwear in the process.

“Ye want a spice bag?” Calum eventually spoke again, turning to face the girl on the bed with hints of a smirk, Kayleigh soon to return it.

“You’re paying.”

From that point on the night had gone as usual, the two moving past the earlier events as they just actually enjoyed themselves, even if Calum couldn’t shake the thought of Kayleigh spreading around how weird he’d been to everyone they knew, as if the girl wasn’t having those same thoughts herself. The two continued to speak, even right now, in fact, Calum receiving a snap from her as Eoin caught sight of his phone, smirking in a way that he thought was knowingly.

“Piss off, bro.” He snickered, hardly able to get mad at Eoin again if he didn’t want to raise any more suspicion. 

Opening the snap, he was greeted with a photo of Kayleigh and who he remembered to be Chloe, her best friend, taking a photo under the desk in class together. Smirking to himself, he nudged Eoin to get in with him, both lads posing with their fingers up, Calum’s arm around his mate’s shoulders. As Eoin pulled away, he clicked to add text to the snap, laughing aloud at the brunette’s immediate protests, pressing send just as he tried to grab the phone away.

-Eoin wants ur mate 😂😂

“Bro, Calum, fuck you.” Eoin grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest in a huff as if he had any clue who that girl was and vice versa. 

“Just tryna help ye, bro. Can’t be a virgin for the rest of yer life.” He laughed, miming the words he knew were coming next before Eoin even had a chance to speak them.

“I’m not a- Ah, fuck off!” He whined, the blonde finding himself more than hilarious.

***

Darren, once again, found himself alone at lunch today, Calum hardly seemed like he’d forgiven him yet and Eoin wouldn’t dare to put a toe out of line with the other boy lest he get the anger turned around on him. So the dark-haired lad headed down to the shops by himself, getting a chicken fillet roll and a drink as he did everyday. 

Walking back up to school, however, he spotted a familiar figure in front of him. Preston was walking along on his own too, munching on his own roll as he scrolled through his phone. Darren sighed to himself, knowing just how lonely this made him look to anyone who knew him, but doing it anyway. 

“Alright, bro?” He greeted relatively dryly, popping up behind Preston and visibly giving the other lad a fright.

“What d’ye want?” Preston asked curtly, rightfully wary around the fella, especially when it was only Friday afternoon that he’d called him ‘a dirty, little fag’ for simply existing. 

Darren shrugged dumbly, not really having a plan of action for how he’d convince the brunette to sit with him this lunch and more so just making this up as he went along, “Nothin. Where’s Amelia?”

“She’s got detention, didn’t do her English homework. Why?” Preston replied, furrowing his brows with confusion the more Darren spoke to him.

“Who ye sittin’ with then?” Darren asked, hoping he didn’t sound as desperate as he was, as if he wasn’t asking the boy he’d been bullying for the past three weeks if he could eat his lunch with him. 

“No one wh-?” Preston cut himself short, his face falling to an irritably blank expression. Of course, what else would Darren be asking him where he was sitting for? Obviously this was just some ploy to get him to sit with his trio so they could all take the piss out of him for the next hour. Well, he wasn’t that stupid.

“I’m not sitting with you and yer poxy mates so yous can get a laugh out of me, Darren. Ye can fuck off.” Preston denied, speeding up slightly and only making Darren have to scurry after him embarrassingly.

“Wha? Calum and Eoin aren’t even talkin’ to me, ye smart pox. They’re at Cal’s gaff.” He explained, with a slight snap in his tone, pausing before grumbling, “Thought gay fellas were supposed to be nice.”

Preston turned to Darren with an incredulous look on his face as he spoke that last part, his mouth slightly agape as he went over what he’d just heard. Was this fella serious?

“Yeah, well not when ye bully them every single fuckin day.” He retorted, Darren rolling his eyes as his torment was labelled as bullying, as if that wasn’t exactly what it was. 

“Ah, here. Cop on, bro. I’m literally gonna sit wi’ ye on yer lunch, stop cryin’.” Darren dismissed, slamming an arm down around Preston’s shoulders and guiding him into the toilets, the two having arrived back at school by now.

Preston just huffed and went along with it, letting Darren take the seat in the toilet as he sat with his back against the door, wanting to be closer to the exit were the other fella to start anything. They both ate in silence for a good moment, Darren the first to break it after a few moments.

“Why were ye off the other week, then?” He asked, mouth full of food as he ate, a few bits of chicken falling from his lips to his trousers, only for him to pick them back up and return them to his mouth again.

“Was sick, I’m fine now.” Preston replied monotonously, practically feeling the eye roll Darren gave him at his response.

“What was it, AIDS?” Darren ridiculed, smirking down at the other lad as he took the lad bite of his roll, licking the butter from his fingers.

“Yeah, I’m riddled.” Preston played along for once, taking a small bite of his own in comparison, a little put off by Darren’s presence still.

The taller lad snickered, actually going as far as to say he wasn’t minding the other lad’s company so far. He was hardly too bad for a gay fella, in fairness.

“Don’t be giving me any.” Darren messed on, gulping down the last of his Dr Pepper and burping loudly in just another show of his disgusting habits, Preston feeling as if he was about to get sick again the longer he sat in here with this lad.

“You’re a scruff.” Preston spoke with a hint of a laugh, hating how easily Darren seemed to be getting into his head recently. One decent action and it was as if Preston was following along behind him like a lap dog. God, he hated him, although he hated himself for being such a pushover more so.

“And you’re a faggot, mate.” Darren tittered in response, eyes on his phone as he scrolled through TikTok, a Snapchat from Calum popping up and catching his eye. 

-Come yard bro were r u 

Darren smirked at the sight of it, glad it hadn’t taken the blonde a good few days to get out of his mood with him. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking coming in here with Preston, especially now his real mates wanted him back around.

-Bathrooms ill come rn

He responded as he stood up from the closed toilet, barging past Preston without a word as he left the stall, leaving the brunette more than confused once again. 

***

Preston had just decided to stay in the cubicle after Darren’s sudden departure, moving to sit up on the closed toilet as the other boy had been, able to finish his roll in peace now he was alone. He really didn’t know how he felt about the lad this past week. Granted, he was a total scumbag and clearly would always have something against Preston even if he didn’t against him, but these short little bursts of humanity that had begun to spring up recently were really confusing the poor Cabra boy. He couldn’t think what could have suddenly changed Darren’s mind on the day he’d come and sat with Preston for a few minutes behind the school, ‘the energiser treaty’ as Amelia called it. Had he suddenly decided to be a nicer person out of the blue or something? Preston could hardly think of anything that made more sense than that. Whatever it was, it was baffling, and in all honesty it seemed as if Darren himself wasn’t even sure of his actions.

Familiar voices soon pulled Preston from his thoughts however, namely Darren’s, as three sets of footsteps made their way into the bathrooms. 

“I swear he was in that last one there.” Darren told Calum, pointing to the cubicle he and Preston had only just been residing in together around 10 minutes ago. 

Preston’s stomach dropped at the dark-haired lad’s words, feeling betrayed by someone he knew he never should have trusted in the first place. Biting his bottom lip, he pulled his knees up into his chest so his feet wouldn’t be visible were anyone to peek under the small gap in the stall, staying as silent as he could as his nerves only grew. 

“Haha, dirty cunt eatin’ a roll on the toilet.” Calum taunted, as if he himself was in any position to comment on another’s hygiene. 

“Probably used the wrapper to wipe his arse.” Eoin chimed in, smiling smugly as the other two actually found him funny for once. 

“Preston, bro!” Calum called out, up against the stall door as he thumped on it with a balled-up fist, the other two sniggering along in the background, “Givvus a bite of yer sausage, yeah?” 

Preston just remained as silent as he could, hoping the trio would eventually grow bored and walk away. He couldn’t believe himself, letting Darren Whelan into the bathrooms to eat lunch with him. What had he been thinking? Of course something like this was bound to happen. 

Calum continued to bray on the cubicle door, shouting into the boy inside for a good five minutes before he grew bored, the lack of response irritating him more than anything. 

“ Fuckin faggot !” He yelled into the stall, booting it hard and making it shake on its hinges so much Preston bit his lip as he begged it didn’t actually fall in on itself. 

“Come on, bro. He’s just bein’ a weirdo.” Darren shrugged, slinging an arm around Calum and leading him out of the bathrooms. 

***

Preston had been scarlet when he entered the classroom after lunch, feeling all three boy’s eyes burning into him but ignoring each one. Thankfully, he had Amelia to sit with now, who he recalled all the events of the lunch break to, the girl only ending up feeling guilty for being stuck in detention as if it was really her fault, Preston at least touched by how sweet she really was.

When school had ended three hours later, the boy took his usual route up to his bus stop, hating how it seemed to be on Darren’s walk home too, which was confirmed when he saw the taller lad begin to walk up the same road. Preston was waiting at his bus stop by now, although his bus wasn’t due to arrive for the next eighteen minutes, which Darren snickered to himself at when he saw.

Unsure why even himself, although landing on the fact he was just taking the piss, Darren stopped to talk to Preston once he reached him. Obviously just for a mess. 

“Alright, bro?” He greeted, hands in his coat pockets as he looked up to the electronic sign where the bus times were displayed.

Preston had tensed up slightly as Darren headed over, even if this was him alone, the events of earlier had taught him not to trust even that, “What, Darren?” 

The fella snickered softly at Preston’s abrupt reply, as if it wasn’t more than justified, “Wha’? I only wanted to talk or su’um.” 

“About what?” Preston huffed, visibly cold as he stood there in just a thin hoodie, the notice board above displaying the temperature to be only 5°C.

“You cold, bro?” Darren asked quizzically, the answer to his question so obvious you’d likely think the fella was taking the piss, although as Preston looked up to meet his gaze he showed himself to be fully serious. 

“Er.. yeah. I didn’t bring a coat.” The brunette explained, as if that itself wasn’t also more than obvious just by looking at him. 

Darren furrowed his brows for a second, partly judging the lad for being so stupid and partly mulling something over in his head. He’d had the same idea from the second he’d first came over and saw Preston standing shivering, although the longer it sat in his mind, the longer he grew increasingly unsure of what he was even thinking. I mean, what would the lads say if they knew? 

“D’ye wanna wait in my gaff? It’s only like.. five houses up.” Darren offered, interrupting his thoughts with his own stupid proposal. Although, he could hardly take it back now.

Preston frowned over at Darren, his immediate answer, of course, being to have said no. But as the amount of goosebumps on his arms grew and a look back at the bus times showed the wait had now gone up to 21 minutes, the brunette found himself nodding.

“Yeah, alright.”

Chapter Text

As the two lads began to make their way down to Darren’s house, Preston found his nerves growing by the second at the prospect of actually being alone with him like this. The same Darren that had relentlessly bullied him for the past three weeks and only deemed him worthy of talking to when he had no other options. His mind tangled and filled with increasingly worrying thoughts of what it was this fella actually wanted from him. He hated how easily he was being won over as of recent, even if he did try to convince himself that this occasion was different because all he was doing was waiting for his bus. Right, as if he couldn’t have done that all the same at the stop. 

As Darren had said, his house wasn’t far at all, the pair only on the move for about thirty seconds before the taller boy turned off to the side to walk up the path to what must be his house. It looked the same as every other home in this area of Finglas: a terraced house with smooth brick that had been painted a yellowish cream colour. It was contrastingly cleaner than the one next door, whose front window had been smashed in and the surrounding walls stained with black smoke. Darren caught Preston’s eyes lingering on it with slight confusion and soon spoke up casually. 

“Oh, yeah, someone threw a firework in there. Blew the fella’s dog up.”

He shrugged the information off like it was normal, Preston staring at the back of his head like he was insane as they entered the house. The front door opened right onto a set of stairs, clothed in grey carpet that had been worn down over the years. To the side was a thin hallway that led off to the living room and kitchen, a smell of cooking already coming from the latter room. Purple wallpaper, baby photos and tacky signs adorned the walls, continuing into the landing as Preston tentatively followed Darren up his stairs that creaked with every movement. His bedroom was the first on the left, the ashy brunette unable to fathom that he was actually here right now doing this. For all he knew, he could get himself killed. 

Darren’s room was rather small, although not exactly what you’d call cramped. To one side, there was a double bed pressed up against the wall and a window behind it, the windowsill littered with mugs, wrappers and a small vape or two. He had a TV attached to the wall in front with his PlayStation below; a dresser and mirror against the other wall topping everything off. The room was far more messy than dirty, the few clothes strewn around hardly putting Preston off. One thing that did catch his eye, however, was a scraggly teddy bear sitting atop Darren’s pillows, the ashy brunette unable to hold in a snicker as he looked to the lad beside him.

“Wha? That’s not mine, it’s me fuckin’ niece’s.” The taller fella lied as he tossed the bear to the floor, never able to actually get a believable story out.

“I don’t care. I have loads meself.” Preston replied with a timid shrug, taking a seat next to Darren where he’d moved to the bed. 

Darren sat pressed right up against the wall, as if even coming any closer to Preston would give him some sort of disease, he just scrolled through his phone awkwardly, the other lad studying the room for anything to make conversation about. Honestly, why was he even here?

“Err.. d’ye wanna play su’um?” He posed after a moment, Darren looking across to him with a confused frown that soon softened once he saw the lad’s eyes on his console.

“Yeah, whatever.” He shrugged, dropping his phone down on the bed next to him as he got up, “I don’t have any faggy games though.” 

Preston rolled his eyes internally, although refused to give Darren any sort of reaction close to what he wanted. The fella got his own way enough.

“Darren, I’m a fella. I play the same shit you do.” He replied in a neutral tone, squinting to try and make out what games Darren had on his shelf, “Just stick Mortal Kombat on.”

The dark-haired lad nodded, taking down the box and slipping the disc into his PlayStation, smirking to himself at the thought of how awful Preston’s gameplay was about to be. At least that would be entertaining.

Turning around from where he’d crouched to sort out the game, Darren’s gaze landed back on Preston, his expression curling to an appalled frown at the sight of what the brunette had removed his shoes to reveal.

“What the fuck are they on yer feet?” He asked with a tone full of disgust.

Preston couldn’t help but freeze up, any confidence he would have were this not taking place in Darren’s house of all places nowhere to be found. He forced a smile across his lips, even as he knew his cheeks were flushing an embarrassing pink.

“They’re just fluffy socks,” He replied in more of a mumble than he intended to, “It’s bitter out.”

Darren gave no verbal reply, apart from a muttered ‘fag’ that Preston couldn’t tell if he imagined or not as he moved back onto the bed. Begrudgingly, he handed the controller over, before going back to scrolling through his phone like he hadn’t a care.

Preston just ignored him, his thumping heart betraying the calm persona he was trying his hardest to put on. He picked out a character rather quickly and played a good few rounds before he could feel Darren’s eyes burning into him, Preston flitting his eyes away from the screen only momentarily to meet his gaze. 

“Yer actually mad good.. for a gay fella.” He commented, his head turning back to face the TV as he spoke, as if embarrassed to have even given Preston such a slight compliment.

“Thanks.” Preston responded rather dryly, which was more than deserved, although it came more out of distraction than malice, his attention fully on his gameplay.

After he finished his round, Preston turned to pass the controller to Darren, smiling sweetly as if anything had passed between the two for his kindness to have been earned.

“Here, I’m pure hogging it. Have a shot.” He offered, only to be shut down.

“Nah, I’m shite. Keep it.” Darren denied, his cheeks tinged slightly pink if Preston wasn’t mistaken, although he only smirked to himself instead of making any comment.

“Well, I’m done. Ye can pick something else out if you want.” He shrugged, getting up from the bed to return the game disk to its box.

Darren only shook his head, mumbling something in response that was mostly incoherent, only leaving Preston feeling awkward once again. The brunette returned to the bed, about to open his mouth to suggest he left right as Darren started up laughing out of nowhere, startling poor Preston somewhat.

“Oh my god, bro. Look at this.” He chuckled, scooting in a little closer and holding his phone up to the lad next to him, scanning his face intently for a reaction as he showed him a reel.

Preston couldn’t help but laugh as he watched. The video itself wasn’t even that funny, it was just the fact he was being shown it by someone else that made it hilarious. As his eyes remained on Darren’s phone and the fella just continued to scroll, he shuffled in as much as their confusing relationship would allow, soon finding himself comfortable enough to relax against the pillows behind him.

“Ah, here, bro. Watch shit on your phone, my reels are at to goin’ shite.” Darren instructed after around twenty minutes, Preston nodding and doing as the lad suggested.

The two had been getting on far better than even previously today in the bathrooms in the short while they’d been scrolling through Darren’s feed, the dark-haired lad even cracking jokes and messing on with him almost as normally as he would with any other lad. Preston knew better than to think this would last this time though. He appreciated it for the moment, although the thought that this was essentially all just fake still left a pit in his stomach. 

As Preston scrolled through his for you page, he slowly began to notice Darren’s replies getting less and less frequent. When he eventually looked over to his side, he couldn’t help but snicker at the sight of the taller boy laying on the brink of sleep, his eyes fighting to stay even just that tiny bit open.

“I can leave, Darren.” Preston suggested, Darren only murmuring something that he definitely thought was a coherent sentence in response, Preston just laughing more at this.

“Alright, bro.” He nodded as he slowly stood up from the bed, Darren grunting irritably in response to the movement.

By the time Preston had finished putting his shoes on, Darren had already drifted off into what seemed to be quite a deep sleep. He lay sprawled out on the bed like a starfish, bar one arm that was wrapped around a corner of his duvet and holding it tightly to his chest. Preston tittered, allowing himself to properly take in the lad’s features for once, hating how he found himself smiling as his eyes roamed over his face. It didn’t take long for him to notice a messy clump of hair resting irritably on Darren’s forehead. Debating his next move carefully and praying the fella didn’t wake up at all, Preston reached a hand gently out to brush it out of Darren’s way, taking his expression slowly softening as a sort of unconscious thank you. 

Stepping back, Preston stayed still for a moment before getting an idea. Heading quietly over to his school bag and taking out a pen and a small piece of paper he’d ripped from a copy, he quickly wrote up a small note. He hardly wanted to leave without saying anything, and since he didn’t have any of Darren’s socials, this was really the only way he could.

‘Left coz you were asleep - Preston’

It was only a simple little thing, but that’s all it needed to be. He set it down on top of Darren’s bedside table and left straight afterwards, thankfully not causing the other lad to stir as he did so.

***

It was another three and a half hours before Darren woke, the fella almost completely forgetting about the day’s earlier events until he noticed that piece of paper on his bedside table. Picking it up with confusion, he read the words as he fought back a smile. Whatever, that was just stupid: leaving a note. Obviously he knew why Preston left. What did he think he was? Thick?

Even so, he dropped the note into the small drawer of his bedside table, telling himself it was just because he was too lazy to get up to go to the bin, despite getting up to go to the toilet only a few minutes later.

***

24th September 2024

Preston arrived at school around twenty minutes before his classes started the next day, his confidence naively boosted by the events of yesterday, even if he knew himself they meant nothing to Darren. Of course, more bullying would come, more taunting words and intimidating stares. It seemed unavoidable anywhere he went, both in and out of school. 

He thudded up the stairs to his locker with his gaze glued to his phone screen, snickering quietly to himself at a tiktok Amelia had sent him, the girl in question sadly running late today and leaving him alone. Preston hardly felt anything other than that as of recent: alone. Of course, he had the one friend, but that was it. One friend. And besides, she had her own group too. He'd hung around with them a few times and they were all lovely, although not people Preston could see himself continuing to hang around with for the rest of the year.

As Preston reached his locker, Darren turned the corner into the same corridor with Eoin by his side, Calum of course nowhere to be seen until at least halfway into their first lesson. Eoin rolled his eyes with a dramatic groan that Darren only snickered at, the brunette treating spotting Preston the same as stepping in a pile of dirt.

“Fucks sake. Miss when I didn’t have to see that yoke around.” He grumbled, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tracksuit bottoms.

Darren nodded in agreement, as if Preston wasn’t in his bed a mere twelve hours ago, “Queer little cunt.” 

As the dark-haired boy spoke and they passed by Preston, a near perfect idea sprung its way into Eoin’s head. Working out his timings, he quickly shoved into Preston with a rough shoulder, slamming the ashy brunette right up against his locker.

Eoin turned to Darren with a laugh that immediately dropped upon seeing the other boy’s irritated expression.

“Always have to take things too fuckin’ far. No-one thinks yer funny, Eoin.” Darren scolded, his voice raised enough for the few people in the vicinity to easily overhear, Preston included.

He’d originally began to storm off with his books in hand after the shove from Eoin, although at Darren’s words he stopped, looking back with a curious frown. Darren caught his eye for a second with an expression that showed no compassion, although Preston wasn’t so stupid he didn’t realise when someone was putting something on. The two parted ways after a second-long shared glance, Eoin stood in the middle angrily complaining.

“Fuck off, Darren.. ye fag! I know you’d do the same!” He called out, the cracks in his voice hardly making for an intimidating shout.

Chapter Text

10th October 2024

The past few weeks had been wildly confusing for Preston. Not only had Darren sort of laid off on taking the piss out of him, Eoin and Calum seemed to have followed suit. Although, with the two of them it was clearly only out of boredom from the lack of reaction Preston was giving, a rough shove or two still came at him in the halls every now and then, as did the same homophobic insults, which were played off as whispers but funnily enough still loud enough for the brunette to hear every word. He’d been to Darren’s house again only last week, the fella actually staying awake this time. Neither of the two knew where they stood with the other, Preston, of course, the more confused party. Darren was almost entirely fine with him when the two were alone, the majority of their time spent on the lad’s Playstation or with Darren trying to pressure Preston into having some of his vape. He’d sat with him in a toilet cubicle for lunch once or twice too, when his mates had gone home for theirs. In a way, it felt as if things were looking up, although Preston knew full well nothing would be this easy. 

***

As it was nearly every lunchtime, Eoin was round at Calum's house again, the tanned brunette half-lying down, half-sat up on his mate’s bed as he watched him search around his floor for the vape he’d bought only the night before. The topic of almost every conversation between the two now was Darren and what he could possibly be playing at. Today was no different.

“I mean, bro, he won’t even slag the cunt anymore. Ye heard him last night.” Calum grumbled, sifting through clothes in search of his nicotine. 

“I know.” Eoin was quick to agree, “Definitely gettin’ his hole licked, dirty pox.”

Calum’s face contorted to a look of disgust as he turned his head back to Eoin momentarily, feeling sick at the image those words created in his mind. 

“Igh, bro. Shut yer mouth.” He complained, although there was clearly a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Nah, watch. Darren’ll be comin’ in with a big bleedin’ pride flag wrapped around him one of these days.” Eoin snickered, his ego of course massively boosted as Calum joined him. 

“I’ll strangle him with it, fuckin’ eejit.” He added on, heading over to his mate on the bed now the vape had been found, inhaling for an excessively long amount of time before passing it over.

Eoin took his own puff diligently, staring absentmindedly up at the ceiling as he debated something in his mind, of course unable to keep it an internal thought when Calum was around.

“Here.. what would ye do if, like, Darren just turned around one day and was like ‘lads, I take it up the arse’?”  He posed, pausing for dramatic effect as he narrated Darren’s hypothetical line. 

“I’d kill the cunt and leave him bobbin’ around in the canal.” Calum replied instantaneously, his pale, blue eyes colder than usual as no hint of a smile dared cross his lips.

Eoin snickered slightly awkwardly, eyes darting away from the lad next to him and down to the vape he was still holding in his hands.

“Yeah.. right job.” He agreed, practically forcing himself to be in full support of Calum’s statement even if he was fully aware of how extreme it was.

That’s not to say, however, that he’d welcome Darren with open arms were that to be true. Sure, the two had been friends since they were only babies, but he couldn’t hang around with a fella he knew was properly gay. At least Niall kept that mostly to himself, Darren would probably be sitting out on the yard meeting the face off Preston for everyone to see. God, the thought sent shivers through Eoin. 

***

Meanwhile, back at school, Darren and Preston were together once again, although not quite in the way Eoin and Calum continuously made them out to be. Preston was sat on the floor in the cubicle the two usually occupied, rather selfishly taking the disabled stall at the end of the row as it had more space. A knock at the door made him look up from his phone in a startled manner, although the voice that followed calmed his nerves.

“Yup, Preston, bro.” Darren called from outside in an exaggerated tone, a stupid smirk greeting the other boy as he unlocked the door to open it to him.

“Here to scrounge off me roll as per usual?” Preston teased lightly, stepping back to let the other lad in, where he subsequently took his seat on the closed toilet as always. 

“Know me too well, mate.” Darren tittered, holding his hand out and making a small grabbing motion, his smirk growing at the sight of Preston ripping off a piece to pass over.

“Legend.” He mumbled before scarfing it down like his last meal, leaving a bit of cheese around his lips that he soon licked off. 

The two ate in silence for a short moment, the only noise coming from either of them being tiktoks that loudly played from Darren’s phone, the fella seemingly having no sense of his own volume. Which is why, on the same note, he could never really stay quiet for long, soon speaking up with the same din. 

“Ah here, did ye see the state of that youngone at the back of English today? The fuckin’ greasy mop on her head. Honestly, bro, it was knockin’ me sick.” He complained, unable to hold in his laugh as Preston started up too.

“Ma’s life, swear she washed her hair with the deli grease out of daybreak.” Preston followed up, feeling his cheeks redden as the other lad laughed along. Jesus, he just kept catching himself acting like this, it was pathetic how much he was starting to suck up to Darren at times, especially since they weren’t exactly on great terms yet. 

Darren got up from his seat with a small stretch, plopping himself down on the floor next to Preston instead, their backs against the stall door. He pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolling through his Snapchat to find a fight video he’d been meaning to show Preston since it had been sent to him, even if the brunette hadn’t a clue who either lad was.

“Here, look at this.” He instructed, Preston doing as he said and turning his head to watch curiously.

To tell the truth, he was far from interested, although still kept his eyes on the screen, even if he did zone out after the first few seconds, which only resulted in his head dropping slightly to rest on Darren’s shoulder, the movement so small Preston himself didn’t notice, although that’s not to say the other lad didn’t. Suspiciously, he eyed the fella subtly. He never knew what was up with him, what he was getting at with all this. If this were any of his other mates - bar Niall - he wouldn’t care, but, to put it bluntly, Preston was a queer. Darren couldn’t have him all over him like this, even if ‘all over’ was just a gentle head on his shoulder. He paused momentarily, thinking about how to go about this before something settled in him. 

Preston obviously didn’t fancy him. If he did, he would have tried to meet him by now. 

With that infallible logic, Darren let him stay, even turning his head very slight against his. Such a miniscule amount you couldn’t even feel it. 

When the time came for lunch to soon be over and the lads to start heading back to class, Preston stood up first, stretching with a groan. 

“Fuckin hell, me arse is flat sitting on that ground.” He complained with a small titter, Darren nodding in agreement. 

“Out straight.” He mumbled, tossing his empty can over towards the toilet, despite the fact there was a bin right outside their stall that he ignored.

“Ye can come to me gaff tonight if ye want.” He offered as he stood up, averting his eyes from Preston after speaking, still embarrassed to be even somewhat nice to the fella.

“Yeah, don’t mind.” Preston shrugged with a smile that was far too sweet to ever be intended for someone like Darren, leaving the stall as he spoke to wash the grease from his hand.

Darren nodded, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his tracksuit bottoms and leaving the bathrooms without another word. In fairness, his annoyance was understandable. Instead of going to PE, which was their next lesson, he was stuck in maths for an hour going over work he didn’t finish. Normally, he’d have not even given skipping his detention a second thought, but with the way his Ma was going on recently he just couldn’t risk it.

Preston, however, still made his way reluctantly out into the yard and across to the PE block to change, their school for some reason still finding the need for a PE kit when they didn’t even have a regular uniform. 

Slipping into the boy’s changing rooms, he kept his head down, just trying to push through the crowds of lads to reach a shower cubicle where he could change in private. As much as he appreciated the normality of the school allowing him to change alongside the other fellas, it hardly made it easy for him to continue to remain stealth. Really all it took was for a lad to kick in his cubicle door and catch one look of him in his binder for his death to be sealed. That’s not to say that Calum hadn’t already tried that one though, of course, he had. 

“Where the fuck are you goin’?” The exact blonde in question cut in, slipping his way in front of Preston to block his path, Eoin behind him like a shadow, snickering away.

“Gettin’ changed.” Preston responded monotonously, trying to manoeuvre his way around the two lads only to be blocked again. What did he expect?

“Here, what’s up with you and goin’ off hidin’ in those bleedin’ showers?” Eoin pressed, his ego boosted so massively now Calum’s annoyance at Darren had come to light.

Preston sighed deeply, he genuinely couldn’t win in this situation. If he changed privately in the stall he looked like a freak who had something to hide, whereas if he tried to change with the rest of the lads they’d no doubt all accuse him of staring or some other homophobic nonsense, and that’s without them noticing the obvious.

“Wha? D’ye wanna strip in front of a gay fella instead, like?” Preston countered, trying once more to push his way through to the cubicle whilst Eoin’s scoffed protests began.

In a surge of irritation, Calum grabbed Preston by the lapels of his jacket, pushing him into the tiled wall. The ceramic was cold against his back, the uncomfortable feeling reaching him even through his clothes as he squirmed in any attempt to get away from the blonde.

“The fuck are ye tryna say?” Calum snapped, his breath hitting Preston’s face at such a proximity it was the only thing he could smell, which, as you could likely guess, wasn’t the nicest, “Tryna turn Eoin into a fuckin’ fag now too, yeah? Darren not enough?”

Eoin stood to the side as he watched the situation go down, grinning to himself at the sight of Calum jumping to his defence. It was nice to know he clearly did see him as an actual mate, or at least someone he could put up with enough to stick up for. Preston, on the other hand, just continued to wriggle as best he could, hoping to god for some miracle to cause Calum to cop onto himself enough to let him go.

“I don’t even talk to Darren!” He protested, holding himself to not push the blonde back in any way so long as he valued his life, “Hardly turned him gay!”

Calum flipped at the first hint of back chat from Preston, his grip tightening on the lad’s clothes, knuckles pressing harshly into his collarbones as a result. In the same motion, he pulled Preston away from the wall just to slam him right back into it again, the brunette’s head lolling back and hitting the hard stone behind him. His face contorted to a wince of pain, Calum and a few lads that were around to witness this laughing at the sight. 

“Fuck up, ye pure slug.” The blonde retorted, making Eoin snort with laughter from the sidelines.

The heaviness in Preston’s head from the thump was overwhelming, no matter how much he tried to push it down in the fight to keep his composure. 

“Just get off me! I didn’t even-” 

Preston’s words were cut short with a harsh slap, the contact stinging his face with a pain that pulsated through his head. Calum’s hands were heavy and thick, the initial blow causing Preston’s vision to blank out for the shortest of seconds, even that still enough to leave the poor lad slightly disorientated afterwards.

“ I said shut up! ” Calum repeated, his eyes flashing with an unsettling mix of emotion, part-thrill; part-insecurity; part-fury. 

The squeak of the opening changing room door soon caught everyone’s attention but the blonde’s, however, a red-headed boy Preston didn’t even know existed yanking Calum off him with hurried, hushed warnings.

“Everything alright, lads?” Their PE teacher beamed in his thick Kilkenny accent as he strode over, his overwhelming good mood hardly fitting with the situation that had previously passed.

“Fine”

“Yeah”

“Sound, sir.”

Everyone replied monotonously. 

Even Preston, who was still cradling his red face, spoke up in a small voice. He was hardly about to rat Calum out after all that, he knew full well what he was capable of, telling on him in front of the entire male population of his year group really wasn’t going to make things better. Although, as the minutes slowly passed by, the looming dread of the actual lesson itself grew stronger.

“Err, sir.” Preston spoke up, making the teacher look up curiously from the clipboard in his hand.

“Everything alright, Preston?” He asked, the boy in question unable to keep back a smile at his thick culchie accent, it was adorable really, but that’s besides the point.

“No, I.. I feel sick.” Preston lied with as convincingly as possible, knowing himself that Mr Kennedy was hardly an easy man to trick, especially if he thought Preston was just doing this out of laziness.

“Ah, c’mon, bai. Few laps and you’ll be fine.” The young teacher dismissed, hand dropping down to his side to adjust his O'Neill's shorts that were hardly ever what you’d consider long enough to be able to wear in a school.

Preston sighed, having been expecting to have to pull this next card. It was hardly too bad, all his teachers knew he was trans, his Ma had made sure of it so they’d notice any targeted insults were this school to be a repeat of the last. At least sometimes it worked in his favour. 

“I’m on me period, sir.” He faked in a hushed tone, stepping in a little closer to the man.

Mr Kennedy’s eyes widened at Preston’s words, a look of confusion flashing across his face as if he’d forgotten how that was even possible for a second.

“Oh.. right.. err.. go on then.” He nodded in dismissal, suddenly entirely awkward as he fumbled over his words, Preston unable to find that anything but funny as he made his way past Mr Kennedy with a small giggle, “I hope you feel better soon.”

Walking through the halls and across the yard back to the main building only left Preston with his thoughts, everything suddenly building up on him so quickly. Tears pricked at his eyes as the scene from the changing room replayed in his head. What did any of those lads have against him? They barely knew him; barely knew anything about him other than his sexuality, which he’d never actually confirmed to anyone here bar Amelia. So what was it really? His hair? His clothes that were the same brands they wore themselves just in a different style? The way he walked? Talked? Breathed? He couldn’t do anything in this school, nothing at all. At times, it felt more draining than his last. The bullying might have been worse but at least the threat was less. There was no crazed Calum Doherty breathing down his neck at every turn, just bitchy girls that’d pull his hair and try to shove him around a bit at the most. 

As he reached those same bathrooms it seemed he’d spent half his life in by now, he reached for his phone, typing out a text through teary eyes.

-Can you come to the bathroom

It didn’t take long for Preston to get a response, perhaps about two minutes or so, which was probably record time.

‘Darren: Yh’

Mrs Sharma had thankfully been in a good mood when Darren had asked to go to the toilet, the teen being let go without even having to ask twice, which he’d hardly expected. He wasted no time in leaving the stuffy classroom and making his way to the usual bathrooms, seeing only one stall occupied and walking up to it with a smirk.

“Let me in, bro!” He called out in another one of his stupid voices, that sort of greeting slowly growing into a tradition.

Preston wiped his eyes quickly with his sleeve before unlocking the door. His preparations clearly were not enough, as Darren’s face dropped immediately at the sight of him. 

“What’s wrong with ye?” He asked accusatorily, stepping into the stall without invitation. 

“Wha? Nothing.” Preston responded robotically, as if the entire reason he’d asked Darren to come down wasn’t because he was upset. How had he thought for even a second he’d be any help? 

“I’m not thick, Preston." Darren grumbled, sitting up on the small windowsill behind the toilet this time, fiddling with his hands absentmindedly as he stared down at the other boy.

Preston looked down at his feet, feeling increasingly stupider the longer this day went on. How was Darren Whelan his first choice for confiding in now? Seriously? He didn’t even know what he was doing anymore.

“Calum‘s at to slappin’ me around in the changing rooms.” Preston muttered, eyes still glued to the floor as he spoke.

Darren’s brows immediately furrowed, gaze running over Preston as he stood there for any sign of injury. He seemed fine, despite his tears, so Calum can’t have been too pissed.

“What’d he do?” Darren questioned, Preston ever so slightly soothed by the fact he seemed to actually have some care now he’d explained things.

“Slammed me head into the wall and whacked me across the face.” He explained briefly, a part of him still sickened by the fact he was turning to the same lad to have left him with a literal gash in his forehead a few weeks ago for help, although he had bigger problems right now.

Darren went to snicker, however soon stopped himself the more he thought about it. It was hardly funny. No matter how much of a ‘fag’ Preston was, even he would say that was too far. A joke or two yeah, but not actually smashing the fella around, as ironic as that was to come from him. 

“Bro, wha? He’s a fuckin’ lunatic.” Darren responded with a disappointed shake of the head. 

Preston looked up at him in some attempt to meet his gaze, waiting with naive hope for something more. An “I’ll talk to him” or “I can’t be mates with him”. Something more than that. But it never came, that was it. That was always it. A quick little comment about how bad out his mate’s actions were then moving on to a tiktok he’d seen last night and just had to show Preston or offering him a puff of his vape. He knew he couldn’t complain though. Why should he? At the end of the day Darren was Calum and Eoin’s friend before he was ever his, and that was just the way it always would be. 

Moving to sit on the floor with his back to the door, Preston looked up at Darren with eyes full of sorrow. Those tears he’d fought back previously returned again to be met with no defense, they fell pitifully whilst the other lad simply scrolled through his phone and puffed away mindlessly on his vape.

“What’s their problem with me, Dar?” Preston asked pathetically, his voice cracking with every word.

Darren’s gaze flicked immediately over to Preston at his blubbered words, any response momentarily caught in his throat as the question replayed in his head. 

“Err.. well, ‘s coz yer a queer.” He admitted, realising as he spoke that that had never actually been confirmed by Preston, they all just took it to be obvious. He cleared his throat awkwardly after speaking, looking back down at his hands as they fiddled with his burnt-out vape.

Preston stayed quiet for a short while after that, he too turning his eyes away from the boy next to him. He’d known that was their only reason from the start, all three of them. But hearing it right from the source only made things worse. All that non-stop bullying; slaps to the back of the head; disgusting name-calling; shoving; kicking. It really was all because of the simple fact he was attracted to other fellas. It wasn’t even as if he’d ever tried to come onto any of them, they simply just couldn’t stand to be around someone like that.

He shuffled away from Darren a little, speaking up again softly after a few minutes, “You can go back to class now. I’m fine.”

Darren didn’t move; didn’t reply either for a couple of seconds, he just sat there with Preston, guilt settling in his stomach now everything was truly out in the open. 

“Yer still me mate, y’know.” He murmured.

Preston scoffed, looking at Darren with a gaze thick with disbelief, “Am I? Because it seems like I can’t go near ye in school other than lunch when Eoin and Calum aren't around. I’m not yer mate, I’m just some fella you talk to when your real ones aren’t around.”

He took a short breath before continuing, only upsetting himself the longer this went on.

“Why’s it even matter if I’m gay or not? I never did anything to Eoin or Calum.. or you.”

Anger began to bubble inside Darren the longer this discussion went on. He genuinely couldn’t see it from Preston’s perspective even if he were to have the decency to try. In his head, the lad was just seeking attention by going on like this. No-one would really care if he liked lads if he didn’t make it everyone’s business, that’s where it got too much. 

“‘Cause it’s fuckin’ weird, bro! I don’t mind ye but ye’ve gotta think obviously other normal fellas aren’t gonna be that sound with ye.” He blurted out, the sudden raise in tone making Preston visibly startle, “And ye know what Calum’s like, he’s off his bleedin’ head! He’d actually kill me.”

“If it’s that ‘weird’ then stop talking to me!” Preston argued back, his own voice raising to match Darren’s, the two quite forgetting where they were, “No-one’s asking you to be around me. Not once did I ever rub it in that I’m gay; I didn’t even mention it! I didn’t speak a word to any of yous on the first day and I was already getting slagged off.”

Darren groaned with a small eyeroll, as if everything Preston was saying wasn’t making perfect sense.

“I want to hang around with ye; I like talkin’ to ye! I just said yer me mate, didn’t I? I don’t give a bollocks if ye wanna say yer gay, it’s just… them, y’know?” He protested childishly, his small-mindedness on full show especially as he phrased Preston’s sexuality as something he just told people and not an actual part of his identity.

“I like fellas, Darren. I don’t like birds. I’m hardly saying that for attention, that’s the last thing I want.” Preston repeated bitterly.

“Why say it then?” Darren asked, his tone making the other boy out to be stupid, “All lads think about fellas like that sometimes, it's just normal. Doesn’t mean ye have to make it your whole personality and go around tellin’ people you’re gay.” 

Preston paused, taking in Darren’s words with a blank stare. It seemed impossible to him that the lad couldn’t see just how stupid but also entirely closeted that made him sound, both intensified by how certain he was in his words.

“What? No they don’t…”

Darren’s brows furrowed to a frown at that response, his own sense of self taking a hit with the genuine confusion that laced the other boy’s tone. What was he even talking about? Of course everyone did, they just kept it to themselves so they didn’t sound like Preston did right now.

“Yeah, what would you know? Ye just think yer special coz you’re the one callin’ yerself gay.” He countered stubbornly, knowing deep down in himself that his arguments made no sense.

“Piss off, I’m not arguing with ye. Believe what you want, but if yer thinking about any lad in a way that could make people think yer gay, chances are you more than likely bleedin’ are.” Preston spat, moving to stand up as he tried to leave the stall, just wanting to leave at this point.

Darren stood up with him, quickly blocking the lock to the door. He wasn’t gay in the slightest, far from it; he couldn’t have Preston leaving here thinking that.

“I’m not fuckin’ gay!” He near-shouted, his cheeks reddening with a mix of anger and humiliation which only deepened when he remembered where they were.

He scowled down at the other boy, although, past the fury in his eyes, there was something else clear in his gaze. Undeniable fear. Even if Preston’s words were somehow true, he could never admit that to himself, not now, not ever. He wasn’t gay, he was just a normal lad. He wouldn’t ever be, no matter how badly Preston wanted him to.

“I don’t give a rats what you are, just let me go!” Preston snapped back trying to manoeuvre his hands around to unlock the door behind Darren even if it was near impossible with their position.

“Why say it then?!” Darren counteracted, his tone still aggressive, but also tainted with a hint of sadness, like a little boy who’d just been told he was annoying.

Preston looked at the lad in front of him, unable to rid himself of the growing pity he felt for Darren, who was losing his mind over the insinuation that he could even possibly be attracted to the same gender. 

“Alright, I’m sorry.” He apologised, tone softer now.

Darren nodded awkwardly and the anger drained from his face, eyes on the floor.

“Whatever.”

Preston hesitated, before slowly bringing Darren into a loose embrace, the taller lad stiff at first but soon allowing himself to relax just slightly.

“Yer mates just get to me sometimes, sorry for snapping… and.. I don’t care if ye like birds or not. I’m not calling ye gay. Just saying.” Preston went on, slowly beginning to understand the other boy more the longer their strange relationship progressed.

“Yeah.” Darren mumbled, pulling back from the hug; still not meeting Preston’s gaze as it seemed like something was on his mind.

“I can like… try to talk to them.. if ye want me to.” He suggested, looking up to the other now, noticing a soft flash of an emotion he couldn’t quite name in his eyes.

“Wha’?.. I mean, only if ye want to.” Preston shrugged, not even sure what the right way to go about this whole situation would be, “I wouldn’t want them startin’ on ye over me.” 

Darren only shrugged, his expression genuinely unreadable. 

“I dunno.. ye are me mate.”

Chapter Text

As promised earlier that day, Darren waited at the bottom of his road for Preston after school, nodding to the fella with a smile he couldn’t subdue when he rounded the corner.

“Alright, bro?” He greeted, dapping Preston up before the two began to walk.

Preston shrugged, finding himself unable to hold in a smirk as he spoke, even if he couldn’t see any humour in the situation he was about to recall, “I dunno, apart from Eoin and Calum throwing a ball of paper with ‘stupid faggy cunt’ written on it in history?”

Darren went to laugh, although held it in after he was reminded of their earlier conversation. In reality, it wasn’t really that funny.

“I’ll talk to them tomorrow.” He decided, having made up his mind earlier on whilst stuck in detention. He hadn’t a clue what he was going to say, but he figured it would come to him in the moment. Preston was slowly starting to be considered a real mate to him, despite their differences, he couldn’t exactly stand by and let this carry on.

Preston smiled warmly, part of him still unable to even think that Darren of all people was now sticking up for him. Still, he’d take what he could get and the offer definitely wasn’t going unappreciated, “Thanks, Dar.”

The pair reached Darren’s house after a few minutes, chatting along the way. Preston followed the other lad up to his bedroom, kicking his shoes off as he went. The gap between the two when sitting together recently had slowly begun to decrease, Darren hardly thinking when he slung an arm around Preston’s shoulders. Preston just ignored the gesture as best as he could, shuffling back slightly to get comfy as his eyes flit around the room for the remote

“Throw su’um on then.” He yawned lazily, not having any further energy to do things for himself, suddenly feeling incredibly tired.

Darren grumbled as he picked up the remote, just plopping it down onto Preston’s chest instead, “Fat effort. You do it.”

“Lard.” The other boy insulted fondly, picking the remote up and beginning to flick through Netflix.

It didn’t take long for Preston to land on a show, even with the pressure of having to pick something to watch with a yup bro sitting in the bed next to him. Honestly, what did they even watch? It was hard to imagine them doing anything other than hanging around on street corners and vaping. Which, in fairness, was probably all they did. 

“Just put squid game on.” Preston shrugged, suddenly embarrassed now he’d said that out loud, “They’re making a new season around Christmas.”

Darren, partly surprisingly, showed no sign of objection, only nodding with an expression of interest, “Never watched it.” 

Preston looked at Darren with a face as if he’d just admitted he’d never drank water in his life, mouth agape and brows furrowed, “Wha? How?” 

Darren only shrugged as he returned his attention to the screen, “I dunno. Eoin was goin’ on about it all the time, put me off it.” 

Preston only rolled his eyes with a growing smile and followed suit, rather excited to rewatch the show again after three years. He only hoped he didn’t end up cringing Darren out. Although, not that his opinion mattered, of course.

***

“Why don’t they just carry on with the game? Yer not gonna die if ye just cop on.” Darren asked about twenty minutes in, speaking through a mouthful of chocolate he’d found in his bedside table.

Preston couldn’t help but laugh softly at what seemed to be actual logic from Darren, swallowing his mouthful before speaking.

“Because it’s designed for everyone to die except one person by the end, they’re all gonna die if they don’t get out.” He explained, not realising that he’d moved in a little closer to Darren throughout the course of the episode. His eyes were still glued to the TV, head only slightly rested against the other lad’s shoulder. 

Darren nodded, clearly interested, especially as it was becoming obvious he rarely ever watched any films or TV, “Mental.”

“Dunno why that granda’s there, fella’ll die by the time they get out.” He commented again mindlessly after a few minutes, earning a giggle from Preston, who was relieved Darren was at least taking some interest in his choice of show.

“‘Cause he’s in debt, ye big eejit.” 

“I wouldn’t in me bollocks be doing all that just for a bit of money.” He dismissed, practically giving Preston a running commentary by this point.

They both continued to comment on the odd thing as they binged a few episodes, both slowly growing bored towards the end of the third. Preston, taking the hint, picked up the remote as the end credits began to roll and clicked off, turning his head to face Darren and realising just how close they were now.

“What’d ye think then?” He asked, still hoping for a good response despite them both being bet into the show for the past three hours.

Darren nodded tiredly, “‘S good, bro, yeah. Better than I thought it’d be, was expectin’ some dirt.” 

The two were fully laid down now, Preston’s head very close to Darren’s, whose arm was still around his shoulders, holding him in position with a comforting firmness. The dark-haired boy found himself a little less bothered about their closeness than he usually would be, recent talks with Preston had quelled the insecurity that burned inside him even if only momentarily, along with his previous ‘logic’ of the fact if the other boy was attracted to him, he would have made his move a long while ago now. It’s not like gay fellas could have self-control or anything. 

“Hardly.” Preston replied absentmindedly, his attention more focused on the growing discomfort in his lower stomach, praying to god that wasn’t what he knew it was. 

“Er, hold on. Need a piss.” He excused, scrambling from the bed with an embarrassing quickness and almost tripping over his own feet, leaving Darren more than confused.

With a flushed face, Preston entered the bathroom, not wasting a second as he yanked down his trousers to sit on the toilet. His eyes widened at the sight; the pool of blood that had seeped right through to his tracksuit bottoms, which, of course, were unhelpfully a very light beige. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He exclaimed in a frantic whisper, ripping toilet roll to clean himself with shaky hands.

His brain raced with the worst possible outcomes as he tried to think of some way to hide the incredibly obvious stain, that was both so clearly blood and directly on his crotch. Even with Darren being slow this was undeniably obvious. The darkness of the room would likely keep his secret for a short while, but as soon as the lights went he’d be done for. By some slither of luck, he noticed that a set of drawers facing the toilet was stocked with a few pads. Sighing with the slight relief this brought, he took one, although was still lost as to what his next move would be. 

After around ten minutes he returned, slipping into the room like a scared dog with his tail between his legs. He hovered at the door, not taking another step in, just staring down at the floor in front of him. 

“Bleedin’ hell, how big was the shite?” Darren messed, eyes on his phone after only briefly looking up at Preston.

“Me Ma said she’s made spag bol, if you’ll eat that.” He continued before the other lad could even finish his awkward snicker at the previous joke, Darren not at all picking up on his obvious uncomfortability. He never was good at reading people.

“Err, wha’?” 

Preston looked up at Darren a few seconds after he’d spoken, the words not even registering in his head with how stressed he’d suddenly become. Of course, this only confused the other fella even further, what with the rush Preston had left the room in and his strange state now. He hadn’t a clue what was going on, which was at least good for one of the pair.

“Said me Ma’s made spag bol, will ye eat tha?” Darren repeated with a quizzical frown, eyes roaming over Preston as he tried to figure out what was up with him. Was he sick? He didn’t exactly look like he’d thrown up.

“Er, yeah..” Preston replied entirely unconvincingly, his nerves already through the roof. He knew the questioning would come sooner or later and all he could focus on was coming up with a decent excuse, which he couldn’t find for the life of him. The poor lad was close to terrified; Darren was barely on board with the fact he was gay, he dreaded to think what would happen if he was to discover he was trans.

“Don’t have to, can get su’um out the freezer instead.” Darren offered, bombarding Preston as he only tried to be helpful for once.

He sat up in the bed, pushing himself up to go downstairs and gesturing to the door with his head as he did so. 

“No!” Preston almost shouted, immediately embarrassed over his exaggerated reaction.

“Er, I mean I’ll just have spag bol. I’m grand, Dar.” 

His face was growing paler by the second, brows returning to their position of being furrowed in deep thought, everything on his mind slowly eating him alive. 

Darren was still frowning over at him, frozen in position as he hovered at the edge of his bed. Preston had to be sick; the state of his face alone said enough.

“What’s up with you?” He asked, tone bordering on accusatory, “Ye sick or su’um?”

Preston met Darren’s gaze with empty eyes, biting his lip as he debated just telling the lad he had to leave. There was no use hanging around any longer, he’d probably get caught either way and risk his entire social life. Well, not that he even had one.

“Yeah.. was sick in the bathroom.” He lied after a moment of prolonged silence, Darren’s expression softening slightly.

“Oh, right. Could’ve just said.” Darren tittered gently, beginning to walk over to Preston again.

“Er.. can I borrow some shorts? I’m roastin’ in these.” The ashy brunette quickly fabricated, taking a nervous step back from Darren when he began to move.

Darren, looking a little judgmental once again, nodded and headed over to his chest of drawers, pulling one open and rifling through his clothes. After a few seconds of searching, he took out a pair of black Montirex shorts and tossed them to Preston, the highlight around the hem worn over the months.

“Here.”

“Sound, thanks.” Preston nodded, his tone still a little shaky. 

Picking up his backpack to discard the stained trousers in, he headed out to the bathroom to change, taking considerably less time than previous.

“Will ye eat that spag bol then?” Darren asked for a third time upon the other boy’s return, a messing smile on his lips now.

“What? Yeah, sorry.” Preston apologised, smiling slightly too and heading downstairs.

Darren led the way to the kitchen, realising as the two descended the stairs that Preston had actually only ever been in his bedroom and bathroom. The kitchen was a little cramped, although still had room to fit a small dining table, where Darren’s five-year-old niece, Sadie, sat eating. Preston smiled at her as he entered and earned a shy wave in response. The backdoor was open as Darren’s Ma stood outside smoking, the cold air and hints of smoke tainting the warmth of indoors. She was an overweight woman who wore her dark hair in a tight bun and was somehow perfectly comfortable in just a black vest-top, pyjama bottoms and slippers in the bitter night air, the cigarette in her hand supposedly providing some warmth. Her upper arm was inked with a single tattoo in memory of her late son, Lee, who had died in a motorbike accident three years prior. Two bowls of pasta sat on the counter for the lads which they took, Darren also taking two cans of coke from the fridge to accompany their meal. His Ma’s head peeked around the door just as they turned to leave for upstairs.

“Yous’ll eat at the table, Darren.” She instructed, disappearing back outside as soon as she’d come.

The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes but sat anyway, Preston unable to keep in a silent snicker at the situation. 

“Yer Ma’s a ride, pal.” He joked, leaning in to whisper to Darren, who snorted and swatted him away. 

The dinner was surprisingly nice to Preston, although not as good as his own Ma’s. 

“Fuckin’ hell, this is real nice. Top of the range.” He complimented when he was about halfway through his meal, a few drops of sauce staining his chin. 

“‘S all over yer bleedin’ face, ye lickarse.” Darren teased, laughing all the while and making little Sadie giggle in turn as she ate her ice cream now.

Darren’s comment only resulted in a smack around the back of the head from his Ma as she passed, a small smile on her lips as she spoke, “At least someone appreciates my cookin’!”

Preston and Sadie laughed at the sight, especially as Darren’s cheeks tinged a slight pink.

***

The ashy brunette didn’t stay for much longer after his meal, especially as it was already getting late. Darren walked him out to the bus stop, dapping him up before leaving which Preston couldn’t help but cringe at just slightly.

“I’ll talk to the lads, yeah?” He promised once again, Preston nodding as he got onto his bus. 

***

11th October 2024, the next day

Third lesson on a Friday was English, and of course Darren and Preston were back to acting as if they didn’t care about each other once again; Preston sitting in conversation with Amelia and Darren at the back of the class with Calum and Eoin, his head in his arms on the desk as he just tried to drown the other two out. His head was swarming with anticipation for the upcoming confrontation. All he could do was hope it would go well, even if he knew with Calum around nothing like this could turn out in his favour. Disagreeing with him was a death sentence, unless you were a very select few. Nathan Skerries, for example, his childhood best friend. The fella never put up with Calum’s shit, the blonde had likely just stopped trying by now. 

Darren ended up falling asleep someway through class with the position he was laying in, waking up with a fright at the feeling of warm liquid trickling down the back of his neck and into the hood of his jacket. Jumping up in his seat with a baffled expression and ears bombarded by laughter, his gaze immediately landed on the lukewarm can of coke in Calum’s hand, Darren bringing his own hand around to the back of his neck to wipe away the remnants of drink with a grumble.

“Yer not funny.” He retorted, his words carrying a lot more truth in them than usual with today’s context.

Calum and Eoin only laughed more, the brunette speaking up in that snivelling tone that had really begun to piss Darren off lately, “Haha, shut up, Darren. Cop on.” 

The bell for lunch thankfully rang just a few seconds after Eoin had finished speaking, Darren pushing out his chair to stand up without sparing another second, his two mates snickering on between one another. 

“Here, wait for us!” Calum mocked, Eoin laughing before he’d even finished his joke.

Darren didn’t turn around but still slowed his pace, hanging by the doorframe as he let the other two lads catch up with him, feeling as if they were walking intentionally at a snail’s pace now with the amount of time it took for them to take such a few steps. 

“See? Thanks, bro.” Calum continued to patronise, swinging an arm around Darren’s shoulders and walking out of the class with him, the dark-haired fella still ending up cracking a smile at his mate’s messing. A title which certainly wouldn’t last much longer. 

As the trio neared the shops, conversation drifted from topic to topic. Darren was in a noticeably better mood now, subconsciously savouring what he knew was moments before disaster. He figured he’d let either Eoin or Calum bring Preston up first, which likely wouldn’t take long, rather than him doing so. It would just sound incredibly forced.

 ‘Here, lads. Ye know Preston the fella we hate? Yeah he’s kinda chill.’ 

Honestly, he did want this to go as close to well as possible.

Eoin was the one to first mention the Cabra boy, Darren internally freezing with his words as reality slowly set in. 

“Nah, speakin’ of that, did yous see the state of that hoodie faggot’s wearing today? Fuckin’ rotten, swear the yoke has cat ears or su’um.” He sneered, none of the lads even bothering to use Preston’s real name at this point. They all knew who that referred to.

“Honestly. Bet he does be goin’ around Cabra ridin’ cats day and night, the fuckin’ furry.” Calum added with a snigger, rolling up a joint in broad daylight as the three walked down the road.

Darren sighed, inwardly torn between his two friendships. Supposedly, on paper this should be an easy decision; he’d known Eoin since they were newborn babies, Calum since first year, whereas Preston had only come into his life just over a month ago. That wasn’t even counting their friendship either. He was hardly about to sacrifice two long-standing connections for the sake of some nobody from Cabra. Of course not. 

“He’s not that bad, y’know?” 

The group came to a halt. Calum’s eyes burned with raging disbelief; Eoin’s with a confused fear. Darren had said it now, there was no taking something like that back, especially not when no hint of a smile or joking tone could be found. 

“What you on about, bro? He’s a fuckin’ freak of a youngfella.. Isn’t he, Calum?” Eoin quickly responded, his nervous snicker and need to impress clearly his best attempt at appeasing Calum. 

Fuck that. Fuck it all. Darren was long done with walking on eggshells around the blonde whenever he had a different opinion. He was liable to snap at anything and everything. Only two weeks ago had he slammed Darren’s controller into the wall and shattered the thing into pieces because Eoin had picked the character he wanted in Siege, and of course within ten minutes he was acting as if nothing had happened and back to messing on with the lads again. He was a scumbag, plain and simple. He always had been and he always would be. What was the point in waiting for change from someone that was bred in stagnation and hatred? There was none.

“Aw, shut the fuck up, Eoin!” Darren snapped, the brunette’s face momentarily faltering, eyes looking at Calum with confusion, the blonde not even meeting his gaze, “ Calum, Calum, Calum ! It’s all I ever fuckin’ hear from ye! Get out the fella’s hole!”

Calum said nothing, only stared, his eyes on Eoin as he waited on his response, watching like a referee at a boxing match.

“Eh? What the fucks wrong with you?.. Actin’- actin’ like some hardman coz yer just mad that yer pure miserable!” Eoin attempted to quip, making even himself cringe with his weak insult. God, why could he never get the words out when it mattered the most?

“Look at ye! Not even makin’ any fuckin’ sense! Yer so embarrasin’!” Darren retorted, even laughing slightly just to humiliate Eoin even further, which very clearly worked.

Calum, who was standing off to the side, lit his joint now, taking a puff before as he let his eyes run over Darren, clearly about to speak.

“How d’ye know he’s ‘not that bad’, Darren? Been talkin’ to him or su’um? Gettin’ sucked off in the yard?” The blonde questioned through slightly gritted teeth, Darren not even fazed by him this time. If anything, this whole show was just making him cringe.

“Yeah and what if I have been talkin’ to him?” Darren snapped back quickly, not holding back on anything at this point, “Yous give him too much shit, fuck off the fella for once! Ye’d like him if he wasn’t so gay!”

The more Darren so blatantly riled Calum up, the more worried Eoin grew. It wasn’t as if being in public and broad daylight would stop the blonde from doing anything, nothing would once he got started, not even the fact Darren was quite literally one of his best friends. The look on Calum’s face was near terrifying. His brows were so deeply furrowed that his cold eyes had been reduced to slits; his yellowed teeth grinded against one another in his firmly shut jaw. Slowly, he took a step towards Darren, discarding his joint that wasn’t even halfway smoked to the floor in the heat of the moment.

“Who the fuck are ye gettin’ smart with?” He spoke, his tone more than a warning.

His hands sat balled into fists by his side, his knuckles itching for the painful relief of caving someone's face in, whoever it was. Once again, Calum had allowed himself to be reduced to what everyone knew him as. He was nothing but a mental bastard; just couldn’t control his temper; riddled with anger issues; not right in the head. Whatever you wanted to call it, that's what he was. Everyone knew he’d never be anything else. With the environment he was raised in, could you really blame him? Of course you could. That sorry excuse couldn’t apply to someone like him. The lad’s household had shaped him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t break the mould. 

In a show of hurried desperation, Eoin stepped in, moving a little closer to Darren as he spoke up, doing anything he could to get Calum a little calmer.

“Darren, what are ye even on about? Ye were literally slagging him off to me only two days ago?” 

His tone was genuinely more confused than it was frustrated, the same thing mirrored on his face as he stared at Darren, dread bubbling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Stop bein’ such a lickarse, Eoin! For fuck’s sake! This is why no-one wants to be yer poxy mate! Ye can’t think a word for yer-”

In one swift movement, Calum’s fist had connected harshly with Darren’s nose, sending the dark-haired lad crashing back into the concrete wall behind him. His ears rang with a muffled buzz, his vision blurry from both the initial blow and the following crack of his head into the hard rock. He could only look on at Calum with an entirely blank expression as the blonde raved and shouted, his words barely audible to Darren who was only able to focus on his own nausea. 

“ Slit yer fuckin’ wrists again ye faggot cunt! Do it this time! Actually fuckin’ do it!” Calum yelled, his face turning red with the sheer rage that fuelled his body.

Eoin watched on in disbelief. Anger burned inside him too, only he couldn’t fully understand who it was directed at. Was it Darren for his words; Calum for clattering their best friend; Preston for causing all this in the first place, or even himself? Whoever it was, he knew acting on it would only cause further problems - if only Calum had such critical thinking skills. His eyes flit between his two friends, torn once again as he always was recently. The blonde had already stormed off by now, which Eoin only just realised. He looked across to Darren only to be met with the sight of him retching in the corner, vomit falling from his mouth in stomach-churning clusters. 

“Dar-” Eoin tried, but was immediately shut down.

“Just fuck off, Eoin!” Darren snapped with the last of his strength, unable to say more as his nausea got the better of him again.

With a defeated irritation, Eoin ran after Calum, leaving Darren on his own. 

The taste of blood invaded Darren’s mouth when he stood back up, the change of gravity causing his busted nose to fully let loose. Spitting on the floor one final time, he walked in the opposite direction as quickly as possible, his bearings noticeably off as he stumbled along the road. 

‘Wereare yu’

Was the sloppy text he sent to Preston, even simply looking at his screen turning his gut and causing him to put his phone straight back into his pocket after receiving an almost immediate response. Even if he did have to read the messages at least five times before he actually understood them.

‘Fellas bathrooms near lobby’

‘Last stall’

Preston sat alone in his empty cubicle, as had become habit lately, scrolling through his phone while he picked at a pasta pot he’d gotten from the canteen. There was no way he would have gone down to the shops today, not with Darren’s confrontation supposedly taking place. 

When Darren arrived, he took a moment to study his reflection in the mirror before finding Preston. He scowled at the sight, although only winced further when the movement sent another shot of pain through his face. Calum had caught him half on his cheek and half on his nose, a disgusting bruise already appearing on the former. The blood that had pooled from his right nostril was dry and crusted now, hurting even when Darren simply tried to scratch some away. Fucking Calum.

Rather reluctantly now, he headed over to the end stall, kicking at it lighter than usual with the toe of his runners.

“Pres.” He spoke in a gruff tone, the acidic after taste from previously being sick stinging with every word he spoke.

Preston’s head snapped up with a naively hopeful expression, the lad hopping down from the toilet to quickly unlock the door. His face immediately fell at the sight of Darren’s face, eyes widening like a startled animal as he pulled his friend swiftly into the stall, locking the door once more behind them. 

Not paying much attention to the implications of his movements, Preston licked the pad of his thumb to bring it to just above Darren’s lip, doing his best to wipe away as much blood as possible.

“Poxy cunts. I hadn’t a clue they’d do that. Does it hurt a lot? I mean.. are ye alright? Stupid fucking question, course you’re not.” The Cabra boy rambled on, fussing over Darren like a concerned ma.

“Preston, I’m fine.” Darren grumbled, pushing past the lad to sit down on the closed toilet, leaving Preston feeling like a fool as he stood in front of him, “Not the worst thing that’s happened to me.”

The ashy brunette bit his bottom lip gently, leaning past Darren to rip off a small piece of toilet roll to hand to him for his nose, which he did accept, just stuffing it into his nostril.

“I’m sorry, Darren. I’m really fucking sorry. I know Calum’s off the loaf but I didn’t think he’d do that.” Preston continued to apologise, of course knowing this was Calum’s doing without even needing to hear the proof. God, he hated them both.

“Shut up, ye fool. Ye didn’t do attin.” Darren managed to snicker softly, Preston’s fussing something he couldn’t stay miserable around. He was acting like his Nanny that he’d come to with a grazed knee. It was sweet, he couldn’t deny it.

“Was just Calum bein’ Calum. He’s a mental pox.” He shrugged, still inadvertently excusing the fella’s behaviour now, as if this whole situation hadn’t only just happened less than twenty minutes ago.

“I hate them both. Horrible bastards.” Preston spoke as he sat on the ground perpendicular to Darren’s knees, the other lad not giving any response. 

A reflective silence hung in the room for a few seconds before either lad spoke up. There was a strange air between the two now, one of new beginnings but still tainted by past experiences.

“Oh, here, got ye lunch.” Preston remembered, unzipping his bag to take out a little bag of sausage rolls he’d got from the canteen and a Dr Pepper.

Darren’s eyes drifted back over to his mate from where he’d been staring off into space, smiling fondly at him, “Thanks, bro.” 

He moved to sit against the wall with Preston, taking the food and setting it down for now, his appetite still not entirely back. Slumping further down where he sat, he slung a heavy arm around Preston, the brunette immediately falling into him, both lad’s gaze straight ahead of them.

“I’m really sorry, Darren.” He apologised once more, head hung low.

“Shut up, ye sap.” The dark-haired boy smirked, rubbing Preston’s bicep once or twice reassuringly.

God, he was not excited for what was to come. 

Chapter Text

13th October 2024

The Autumn sun brought with it no hint of warmth as morning began to rise over Dublin. The streets of the city centre slowly woke up; the last few nighttime taxis finishing up their journeys as the familiar green buses quickly replaced them. Tourists flocked out onto the roads, their stomachs full to the brim with complimentary hotel breakfasts, skillfully avoiding the gaze of the homeless who could no longer stay asleep in such bitter weather. Dark clouds hung firm over the countless buildings, architecture on the Northside ranging from the most modern of highrise apartments to rows and rows of Georgian townhouses, many of which looked as if they hadn’t been touched since their erection in the early 1800s. They were tall, cramped buildings that had mostly been transformed into businesses or apartments by now, although a few streets still offered the full five-story house to rent, provided you’d been on the list for council housing for around 5 years already. Past the sheer amount of floors, with one, of course, being a basement, the homes were hardly impressive. The streets they stood on never carried a good reputation. Garda were being called out to these areas almost daily for a whole host of different reasons. The houses and apartments were home to thieves, drug dealers and violent individuals who ruined what should be a safe space for the young families who resided there too. 

The streets closest to Connolly station were arguably one of the worst examples of these housing arrangements. It was never quiet there, and if by some chance it was, the eeriness was unmatched. This morning though, the silence of a nice, peaceful Sunday was already long forgotten. Birds cawed and squawked irritably, both indoors and outdoors. The persistent calls of a Hyacinth Macaw echoed around not only its cage but near enough the whole street. Its owner only groaned, rolling over in his bed and covering his ears with a pillow.

“Aidan! Aidan!” Another parrot mimicked, preening its feathers innocently after speaking, almost as if it was asking ‘What? Who said that?’

The lad begrudgingly pushed himself up in his bed, rubbing his heavy eyelids with the heel of his palms. 

“Would yous ever shut the fuck up?” Aidan complained to no-one but himself, his words barely understandable with his half-asleep state, although his birds hardly seemed to mind. 

With more grumbles of dismay, he made his way around each of the five cages in his attic room, carefully tending to every one of his thirteen pet birds, ensuring they had enough water, food and generally giving them some attention. Anyone that knew Aidan knew how much he loved his birds. They took up most of his day, which he more than needed. Whether he’d ever let himself admit it or not, he was unbearably alone. It wasn’t that people didn’t know him, that was far from it. He woke up to at least ten new messages on Snapchat daily, the problem was they were always the same. Every time. 

After setting down one of his cockatiels, Dulce, he habitually checked his notifications for the day, any hint of hope fading from his eyes as he answered the first few:

‘U got cali pens g’

‘Ye 2 for a tenner’ 

‘What u got in bro’

‘What u want’

‘ lmk when u get good shit in yh’

‘ Ye bro’

Only when he got to his last notification did Aidan find his lips curling into a small smile which he quickly ridded his face of, as if he was embarrassed one of his birds might see him. He really needed to get out more.

Calum 💙💯: ‘float finglas soon bro bring us a 20 bag’ 

                        ‘got cash’

Aidan texted back as quickly as possible, already heading into his bathroom as he typed, kicking down his checkered pyjama bottoms to take a shower. 

‘Sound i’ll be an hour or sum’ 

He hesitated momentarily, standing fully naked as he sat on the chat with Calum, the longer he debated his next message the more of a fool he felt. Whatever, he’d send it. He just needed to get over himself.

‘U wanna go out soon maybe’

As soon as the send button was pressed Aidan felt a massive wave of regret wash over him, instantly turning off his phone and putting it down on the sink. He wasted no time in stepping into the shower, which was still cold, not even able to sit around in case Calum replied.

“Why the fuck would you say maybe? Look like a fuckin’ fool, bro… Jesus christ.. ‘Oh yeah, Calum, would ye maybe wanna go out?’  Fuck’s sake.. look like even more of a beg now. No wonder ye’ve got no poxy mates.. Yeah, sound, Aidan.” The townie rambled onto himself with an equal mix of worry and irritation, shower water getting into his mouth the longer he spoke and spitting out everywhere. 

Aidan’s heart pounded in his chest, anxiety unrelenting, especially when this was Calum Doherty involved of all people. His hands scrubbed hard at his dark, black hair, shampoo frothing out all over the place, as if the harder he washed the less he’d have to think about his embarrassment. 

Aidan was a tall lad, standing at around six feet. He was fairly built, although never trained with weights, the only form of exercise he got was from his Muay Thai class, which he attended usually twice a week. His dark hair matched his dark brown eyes and his skin was a deep caramel colour. A few light freckles adorned his cheeks which one only really noticed when up close, along with his eyelashes that were especially long for a fella. A thin moustache grew above his top lip which he absolutely refused to shave, despite how he was constantly told how much it made him look like a 14-year-old boy who just managed to grow his first facial hair. 

After around thirty minutes he was ready and dressed in his usual pink and grey Monterrain tracksuit, the lad seemingly never in another colour, with his hair dried nicely into a scouse trim. Opening a drawer under his bed, Aidan filled a bag for Calum and stuffed it into his pocket, checking in the mirror that the lump in his trousers wasn’t too obvious before he left the house in the direction of Parnell Luas station. Of course he wasn’t about to pay, he wasn’t stupid. He’d take it up to Broombridge and walk the rest of the way, Calum only ever wanted to meet in the stretch anyway and the two were hardly far. 

***

The air only grew colder as Aidan made his way over to he and the blonde’s usual spot, a chill running down his back and causing him to zip his jacket all the way up. He strolled out of the Luas station with his hands in his pockets, turning the corner to cross the bridge over to Finglas, he pulled out his phone to check he and Calum’s messages.

‘Delivered 1h’

So he definitely half-swiped him then. Nice. Aidan would have honestly just preferred a straight no over being ignored. 

Upon entering the park, he made his way over to the few small buildings in the middle of the fields which presumably housed some sort of electrical wiring. He smiled to himself at the sight of Calum already there, although his face immediately dropped when he got nearer. 

Fucking Eoin. 

Aidan couldn’t stand the fella for the life of him. He just seemed to be constantly around Calum, even more so recently. The brunette was like an annoying, little moth that just won’t leave your bedroom on a Summer night, buzzing around Calum as if he were the sun. Aidan didn’t think he’d ever met someone more irritating, he knew the blonde must feel the same deep down. 

Aidan nodded in greeting when he noticed Calum spot him, the other fella returning the gesture whilst Eoin just looked in the opposite direction. The townie already knew this was going to be a long one.

“Alright, Cal?” Aidan spoke once he actually reached the two fellas, holding a hand out to dap Calum up and completely ignoring his companion.

“Yeah, sound, bro.” Calum replied, reaching straight into his pocket for his money, Aidan getting what he needed too when he noticed. 

The pair dealt swiftly and professionally, both so discreet with their actions it was clear they’d been in this game for a lot longer than they should have, especially for two seventeen-year-olds. Eoin eyed them gingerly, his gaze back on his phone quickly enough, although not fast enough for Aidan.

“What ye lookin’ at, bro? Ye gonna buy su’um?” The dark-haired boy asked mockingly, Calum joining him in smirking.

Eoin shook his head, still staring back at the Tiktoks on his phone in some attempt to remain nonchalant.

“Nah, get su’um another time.” He mumbled, what he thought made him look chill and unbothered backfiring in his face as neither lad actually heard anything he said.

“Bro, wha? Speak louder, ye thick.” Calum scolded, his tone genuinely startling and leaving Eoin silent for a few seconds, his cheeks flushed now he was forced to repeat himself.

“Said: nah, I’ll get su’um another time.” Eoin restated, his confidence entirely drained from him so quickly.

Aidan laughed upon realising what the Tallaght boy had said now, knowing fairly well how far he could push things with the lad when Calum was around. The blonde was a snake anyway, he’d hardly stand up for his mates if the one starting on them was being funny enough. That's just the type of fella he was. 

“Fanny, just buy su’um off me.” Aidan continued to press, Eoin shooting Calum a funny look when he didn’t immediately jump to his defence like he would if this were Darren. 

He never knew where he stood in this hierarchy of friendship Calum had going on; the same people he’d swear were his day ones you’d catch him slagging off to anyone who’d listen just for a few laughs.

“Said no, are we goin’?” Eoin replied, unable to discreetly give Calum a pleading enough look with Aidan still staring into his soul.

The blonde fella shot Aidan a mocking look as Eoin spoke, the townie unable to hold in his laughter.

“In a minute.” Calum dismissed, turning back to Aidan as he remembered a far-fetched story he’d been waiting to tell the lad in person. One that Eoin had already heard 10 times over. 

Eoin’s cheeks burned a deep red as he continued to have the piss taken out of him from not only a lad he hates, but his best friend on top of that. He felt sick to his stomach with embarrassment, especially when Aidan threw him a smart look at Calum’s dismissal. As much as he would never admit it, he was as jealous as anything. 

After five minutes of the two lads droning on and on, Eoin got sick of waiting around, deciding, rather boldly, that, for once in his life, he’d do something on his own. Calum could hardly stop him, he wasn’t his bloody lap dog. 

“I’m goin’, bro.” He announced, only barely audibly this time, turning towards the exit and wasting no time in walking away from the pair now. 

Calum heard him perfectly well, his expression immediately dropping to a frown as he turned and called out after his mate, already storming off and leaving Aidan more than confused. If anything, this only fuelled his hatred for Eoin even further. The fella was always there; always ruining things. That conversation with Calum was the first proper talk with a non-family member in over a week, and now thanks to him it’d probably be another week before he saw his only real friend again. Well, ‘real’ might be an overstatement, but at least he’d humour Aidan with a chat every now and then. That was all he needed. Sure it was.

“The fuck are ye doin’ walkin’ away from me like that?” Calum spat once he’d caught up with Eoin, a firm hand slamming down on his shoulder and stopping the brunette in his tracks. He forced his words through gritted teeth, flecks of spit hitting the back of the lad’s neck and hair.

Eoin’s body immediately tensed and he turned around reluctantly to meet his friend's gaze. Although this time, things were different. For a moment, he wasn’t as intimidated as he usually would be. In fact, he was just irritated. Purely full of anger. How could Calum continue to treat him like this and get away with it? How could he slag him to pieces then get irritated the second his words actually get to Eoin, as if that wasn’t his intention in the first place. How could he keep being perfectly fine with him alone but run with the opportunity to rip into him the first chance he got around others? In this moment, Eoin really did hate Calum.

“He’s a stupid, little pox bottle that Aidan fella! I dunno why ye still talk to him!” Eoin protested, his tone purely laced with bitterness for the dealer. The fact that Calum was so fond of him annoyed him far more than it should, as if he didn’t know Aidan had spread his business around to other people before. Calum just picked and chose who to forgive and who to hold grudges with. It was exhausting.

In one quick movement, Calum lunged forward and shoved Eoin hard. The brunette’s eyes widened as he stumbled back, only barely catching himself on the stone wall of the small bridge the pair were now standing on.

“Is he, bro, yeah?” Calum questioned, snapping harshly as he once again got far more riled up than the situation he was in called for.

Eoin got back up in the blonde’s face with what bit of confidence he still had in him, letting himself get wound up a little too easily as well, “Yeah, he is! The fuckin’ bum dropped out last year and still doesn’t have a fuckin’ job!” 

Calum was holding on tightly to Eoin’s t-shirt now as he shook him rather roughly, the thin, orange material bunched into his sweaty palms and undoubtedly going to leave it looking stretched and ridiculous now.

“ Like you’re not the one always up me poxy hole! ” Calum yelled now, Eoin snapped out of his anger with the sheer embarrassment of the situation which now took over, especially when a group of teenage girls further up the path all simultaneously turned to look at them.

As Eoin stared off in the opposite direction, Calum took the opportunity to push him once more, catching him off guard this time and sending him tumbling to the floor. He turned and began to walk away in the same second he shoved Eoin down, knowing full well the spineless bastard would have caught up with him in the next few minutes. He always did. 

The brunette had hit the path with a thud, having instinctively tried to catch his fall with his hands and only ending up scraping the skin off both palms. They stung unbearably in the first few seconds, Eoin slowly flexing the muscles as he worked off the initial pain in order to get up, not even daring to look in those girls’ direction again. The laughter was telling enough.

He didn’t know why that last comment made him feel so odd. Perhaps it was just the fact it came from Calum of all people; straight from the source. I mean, he didn’t think he was ‘clingy’ of all things, but if Calum himself was saying it…

Whatever, he’d just chill a bit. Stay away from Cal for a while or something. 

Despite that last thought, he still found himself following along after the blonde, purposely watching his steps so as to not get too close, which wasn’t exactly hard when Calum was near enough speed walking out of the park. Silence hung between the two for about five minutes, only broken as Calum waited for Eoin at the entrance to the park. He of course didn't make this obvious though, pretending to try and ring someone and not get through as an excuse for stopping. 

“Come back to my gaff.” He muttered harshly as he took his phone back away from his ear, Eoin only nodding as Calum started walking again, the brunette taking his place back next to him now. 

He couldn’t deny, he felt especially strange heading to Calum's now after his previous comment. It still replayed persistently in Eoin’s mind, the fact he was presumably so ‘clingy’ even Calum himself had picked up on it. He just couldn’t shake the embarrassment, especially not after everything that had just gone down at the park.

After around ten minutes, they were close enough to Calum’s house, although neither fella had spoken a word to the other yet. The blonde just puffed on his vape repetitively, refusing to turn around for a second to even offer Eoin a single drag. 

However, as they came up to a run-down corner shop, Calum slowed his pace for a second, his eyes scanning the windows like they were a piece of modern art. After a few seconds of deliberation he turned to walk in, murmuring to Eoin without even turning his head.

“Wait there.”

Entering the cramped shop and heading straight to the counter, Calum’s eyes scanned the shelves full of vapes behind the elderly owner. Gently, he bit his bottom lip, trying to decide which flavour was best, eventually deciding on a blue IVG and handing the shopkeeper his €20, glaring at him when he tried to avoid giving back change.

“Stupid bastard.” Calum grumbled, knocking a stack of crisps to the floor as he left and ignoring the angered shouts from the man behind him.

As he left the shop, he handed the box straight to Eoin, walking off in front of him without a word. The brunette’s gaze drifted down to the vape in his hand, standing stock still for a few moments whilst Calum headed off without him. He knew all too well what this was; he’d been in this situation far too many times before. This was Calum admitting he was wrong; this was his apology. A blue raspberry flavoured vape that was handed to him without anything said. He’d take a few drags of it and that’d be it, that’d be this forgotten about. Whatever. He was used to it by now, he’d just take the free nicotine and move on. 

“Here, Calum, bro! Wait!” 

Chapter Text

14th October 2024

The tension in the air on Monday morning was close to unbearable, the entire suburb of Finglas able to feel it as they began to go about their individual days. Things had shifted, even if only four teen lads knew it. 

Darren entered class with Preston before either Calum or Eoin had arrived, smirking to himself as he instructed his newfound friend to take the boys’ usual desk. Preston’s stomach sunk at the pettiness, although he hardly wanted to annoy Darren by complaining about it when he’d only three days ago scuppered any chances of keeping two long-standing friendships just by sticking up for him. The whole thing was entirely surreal, only made worse by the fact that Preston couldn’t imagine he’d have done the same for Darren were the situations flipped. 

“They better not come in today, fuckin’ little rats.” Darren spoke under his breath, his Nike backpack on his lap as he dug out a pen from the front pouch.

Preston nodded, his stationary and copy already set out on his desk contrastingly.

“They probably will, knowing them.” He replied realistically, taking the already uncomfortable mood down an extra few notches. 

“Yeah.” Darren mumbled simply in response, practically summoning the two with his words as the classroom door swung open.

Calum entered first, a scowl etched near-permanently into his forehead that was nearly fully covered by his slightly overgrown fringe. The grease in his light hair and dark circles beneath his eyes made him look worse for wear than usual. Darren knew immediately Calum’s parents had been fighting again and, judging by the scratch on his cheek, he’d got himself involved too. Eoin trailed behind the blonde like a dog, flashing Darren a sorrowful look with apologetic eyes that brimmed with shame. The other boy simply scowled and turned his face away.

No-one actually said anything yet, Eoin and Calum just sat at the desk in front of Darren and Preston. The blonde lay his head against his arms on the desk, Eoin clearly not about to get much conversation out of him this morning. Preston sank slightly in his chair at their arrival, turning his attention to the back page of his copy, which was already littered with small doodles and a few proper drawings. Without realising it at first, he began to sketch out Darren’s side profile, stealing little glances at him from time to time. He hardly thought it was weird, he’d always drawn his mates from his old school when class got boring. Although supposedly it was Darren’s opinion that mattered here, not his.

Giggles and murmurings of stupid jokes continued to bubble from the desk in front as the lesson progressed; Preston doing his best to ignore them as Darren just grew more irritated by the second.

“I’m not sayin’ that, Cal. You do it.” Eoin protested with a quiet laugh, tittering like a girl embarrassed to talk to her crush. 

Calum rolled his eyes with a tut, the jovial expression dropping slightly from his face.

“Bro, just do it. It’s poxy Darren, stop bein’ a fanny.” He manipulated, turning to face the front of the class with his arms folded across his chest.

Eoin’s smile faltered, not wanting to deal with the blonde’s mood this early in the day. Sighing softly and forcing his previous smirk back onto his lips, he turned in his chair to face the lad’s behind, his gaze settling on Preston as he found himself unable to look at Darren still.

“What’s it like takin’ it up the arse then?” He taunted, Darren cringing at the fact Eoin of all people thought he was at all intimidating.

“Piss off Eoin, ye ginger-pubed cunt.” He dismissed, wholly unfazed by his mate’s teasing. It was honestly embarrassing watching him suck up to Calum this desperately.

Preston snorted at Darren’s retort, although he didn’t bother to look up from his drawings for a second, knowing better than to give the two in front any sort of reaction. Eoin’s cheeks glowed barely noticeably as he bit his tongue, searching for any type of comeback, the lack of care in Darren’s tone definitely throwing him off. 

“Course yer thinkin’ about me pubes, ye gayboy. Go suck Preston off, the aid-riddled pox.” Eoin sneered, turning back around before the other lad could say anything in response.

Calum let out a small laugh at the brunette’s words, a reaction that likely would have had Eoin’s tail wagging were he a dog. 

“Oh yeah? As if yer not gagging for a bit of Cal’s cock, ye pure faggot.” Darren snapped back in response, ironically standing up to the homophobia against his friend by calling the perpetrator another anti-gay term, “Yer so far up the fella’s hole yer coming out his mouth!”

A few students sitting in the vicinity of their two tables had turned towards the lads by now, most not hiding the fact that they were so clearly listening in. Calum frowned at Darren’s words, nudging Eoin harshly with his elbow to say something. The brunette shot him a wide-eyed stare that was filled with half-embarrassment and half-confusion. As if saying ‘what the fuck do you want me to do?’ Calum’s scowl only deepened, pushing Eoin even further to act, despite knowing all he was about to do was make a fool of himself.

He pushed himself up from his seat in one quick movement, facing Darren with anger that was so obviously fabricated.

“Say that again, bro? I’ll fuckin’ kill ye!” He near-squeaked, his voice cracking really not making any of this anywhere near frightening.

“Sit down, ye fool.” Darren laughed, the amount of second-hand embarrassment he was feeling at Eoin’s display immeasurable.

“Fuck off, Dar! Callin’ me a faggot, ‘n’ all!” Eoin continued, his cheeks burning red now as everyone in the class stared back at him. 

“Eoin, mate, what are ye doing?” Their teacher, Mr Collins, interrupted, standing from his desk as he spoke, “Just get out.”

“But, Sir, he-”

“Get out of my classroom!” He repeated, eyes burning into Eoin.

Eoin scoffed and picked up his bag from under his desk, slinging it over his shoulder in a huff and storming out, even Calum laughing at his exit, which only made him feel even worse. Preston still didn’t look up, not wanting to bother himself with lads like that, despite having Darren by his side. He was slightly shaken from the loudness of Eoin, although he remained calm, especially with a light hand resting on the small of his back. Turning his head to Darren, he met him with a small, content smile, the boy returning it before taking his hand away.

“Fuckin’ mad yoke.” Darren whispered with a titter, Preston sharing his laughter.

After whatever that whole show was from Eoin, the lesson seemed to be going relatively smoothly from that point onwards. Calum had remained quiet, just scrolling through his phone for the most part and snickering to himself at god knows what. Preston had finished his first sketch of Darren and had been praised and implored to immediately make more by the dark-haired fella, which he had started on in between writing up a recount of the home rule bills. 

Darren, who simply couldn’t be bothered to write anything more down today, had set his pen down and leaned back in his stiff plastic chair, shuffling as he tried to find some way to make himself at all comfortable. As he gazed around the room absentmindedly, Mr Collins caught his eye with a strange look, Darren just gesturing to the work in his copy with his head, assuming the man was silently scolding him for slacking off. 

“Darren, could ye go wait outside for me, please?” He requested calmly.

Preston raised a confused eyebrow and Darren only shrugged as he got up, both inwardly coming to the conclusion it was likely as a result of he and Eoin’s earlier altercation.

Mr Collins left seconds after Darren did, leaving the classroom unattended. Conversation slowly rose across the room and work stopped, Amelia turning to Preston from where she was sat across the room with her own friend group. The two spoke with mimed words due to their distance, the girl taking the piss out of Eoin and mimicking him as he’d walked out, arising a few chuckles from Preston. 

“What ye laughing at, fag?” 

A deep, familiar voice interrupted, Preston turning in his seat to be met with Calum’s piercing blue eyes. A smile curled across his thin lips, although it of course lacked any sort of friendly nature. He rested his folded arms on Preston’s desk intimidatingly, a waft of slightly damp clothes that didn’t dry all the way through and weed hitting the brunette with the closer proximity. 

Preston didn’t give him any reaction, just averting his eyes back to Amelia as he at least tried to ignore the blonde, the girl pulling a sympathetic face in response.

–

“Darren, hello?” Mr Collins called out with a light snicker, snapping Darren out of his thoughts. He wasn’t a bad teacher in the slightest, more so the kind that every student mutually agreed was sound, no matter who they were. 

“Oh, what, sir?” Darren replied, still flitting his eyes over to the glass panel beside the classroom door, trying to get a peak in to catch Preston’s eye.

“What’s happened to yer face?” The teacher asked quite matter of factly, not wanting to waste more time than was necessary. 

Darren met Mr Collins’ gaze now, his stomach dropping a little. The spot where Calum’s fist had connected with his cheek was bruised a deep purple, yellow blotches tainting the edges where it had begun to heal, the swelling thankfully fully gone down by now.

“Nothin, sir, honestly.” Darren lied unconvincingly, certainly not about to dob Calum in and cause even more issues for both himself and Preston. 

–

“Give us it back, Calum.” Preston insisted tiredly as Calum snatched his pencil case from the desk so quickly it took the brunette a minute to register what was actually missing.

The blonde laughed, his face quickly dropping back to a slightly manic stare immediately afterwards.

“Who d’ye think ye are goin’ off and turnin’ Darren gay?” Calum spat, unzipping the brunette’s pencil case and emptying the contents out onto the floor as he spoke, “Pure sticks up for ye ‘n’ all. Little fags yous are.”

“Piss off.” Preston muttered, turning back to his earlier drawings and trying his best to just ignore Calum all together, even if he knew that was impossible. 

“What ye drawing, bro?” Calum continued to pester, moving to try and snatch the paper from Preston’s grip, which he saw coming from a mile off and picked it up from the desk just as Calum reached out to snatch it.

“Here, show me!” He carried on, swatting at the paper with his hands, laughing mockingly all the while, as if taunting an animal. 

He held Preston’s pencil case in his hand still, swinging it at the lad’s face back and forth, all while making exaggerated sound effects to match his movements. Foolishly taking the bait, Preston attempted multiple times to snatch the case back, failing every time. 

“Can ye just fuck off and give us it back?” He groaned, trying to grab it one last time.

Calum only laughed in his face, dangling the pencil case above Preston’s head like a cat toy, as if trying to get him to jump up and grab it back. The majority of the class had their eyes on the unfolding scene by now, Niall even taking his phone out to film it from where he sat in the corner, one of his friends, Daniel, laughing along and fuelling Calum’s ego even further. The embarrassment was slowly eating away at Preston, the brunette unable to even look away with the amount of gazes fixed on him. Doing all he could think to do in the moment, he snapped, lunging forward and grabbing Calum’s forearm as roughly as he could manage, ripping the pencil case from his grasp. Regret washed over him immediately as Calum’s furrowed brow deepened even further, his cheek twitching as it so often did when he was overwhelmed with emotion. 

“Fuck ye touchin’, ye dirty cunt?!” Calum yelled, not wasting another second before he lunged forward and ripped a chunk of Preston’s hair upwards, the brunette letting out a high-pitched yelp in response, Niall and Daniel continuing to laugh and record from their corner. 

_

Mr Collins was persistent as he stood outside the classroom with Darren, not letting up about the bruise on his cheek, no matter what sorry excuse the boy gave. Calum’s muffled shouts soon snapped the pair’s attention away from Darren’s cheek, however, Mr Collins immediately heading back inside, swearing under his breath at the thought of the reprimand he’d get for leaving a classroom unattended only for something like this to happen. Darren shoved past him, grabbing Calum by his own hair without a thought when he bolted over. Rage burned inside him at the sight of the scrap. Preston Doyle? Starting a fight with Preston Doyle of all people? Was this really the new low Calum had reached? Picking fights with lads half his size that couldn’t even fight back? God, he was pathetic.

Darren slammed Calum’s head against the desk with the wad of hair he was gripping tightly, dazing the blonde only for a few seconds. As Calum turned, he gripped either side of Darren’s face with strong hands, his thumb pressing deep into his bruise as Darren winced in pain.

“Gerroff us, ye fag!” Darren snapped, pushing Calum back and pounding at his liver with a balled up fist when he couldn’t manage to break away.

Mr Collins tried desperately to break the two lads up, although just couldn’t manage on his own, sending the first student he saw to go and fetch more staff as he stood uselessly trying to talk the two out of it. Neither lad listened or even registered their teacher’s words as the fight went on, Calum now on top of Darren on a desk as he pummeled blows repeatedly into his face, the dark-haired boy doing a decent job of blocking them although unable to use his hands to push the blonde off because of that fact. 

Preston’s face was white with horror as he watched at least six shots actually connect with Darren’s face right in front of him. Amelia and two of her friends had come over to him by the time more teachers had arrived to separate the pair, Amelia giving him a short hug and trying to lead him over to their desk before Mr Collins interrupted them.

“Preston, principal’s office too. Go on.” He instructed gruffly, the teen sighing and following Darren and Calum at a distance as they were escorted by teachers.

The boy’s legs were like jelly as he walked into the office, Calum sitting on the far right, Darren in the middle and Preston next to him. Preston just stared at his hands, trying his best not to vomit his guts up as their principal’s eyes burned into each one of them. He was a tall, rather plump man who, whilst he could be rather stern sometimes, was known for being generally sound. 

“Right, what’s happened?” He started in an irritable tone, making Preston jump, “I’m at to having not only you three fighting, but another lot before yous. I’m absolutely sick of this behaviour lads, it stops now.”

No-one gave any reaction, they all either just stared at the floor or off into the distance.

“Darren? Would you want to start?” Their Principal sighed, folding his arms on the desk as he leaned forward slightly.

“Yeah, alright.” He nodded, pausing as he tried to put this into words, “So, Preston’s a queer, right.”

Preston physically cringed as Darren chose those to be his starting words, the Principal shooting him an odd look too, although he let him continue. 

“And that’s why Calum and Eoin keep startin’ on him all the time.. and, like, Preston’s kinda me mate. No, he is me mate.. so I was just sticking up for him.” He finished with a shrug, his choice of words far from great or very convincing, although they got his point across.. in a way. 

The Principal raised an eyebrow, sighing as he ran a hand over his face. He didn’t comment, only turned his attention to Preston.

“Is that true, Preston?” 

Preston’s cheeks were burning red, his expression faltering slightly as he nodded gently, a little tense, “Err.. yeah, basically.”

The Principal nodded, seeming calm enough, his expression virtually unreadable. Calum soon piped up, their attention soon brought to him as he sat with his chin in his hand lazily. 

“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent, Darren. You were the one that gave him that cut on his forehead, weren’t ye? I was there.” He sneered, frustration at the thought of Darren getting off unpunished eating at him the longer they sat in that stuffy office. 

“Yeah, when we were bleedin’ messin’ on. He only got a cut coz I accidentally went too rough with the fella. Ask him!” Darren lied quickly enough for it to sound plausible, looking to Preston with a subtly pleading look to just back him up on this. 

Preston only nodded, his gaze in his lap. He knew he and Darren were alright now but the reminders of how they used to be always stung, especially in situations like this.

“Right, well, just calm down a bit, lads.” The Principal replied, a little thrown over what was even going on in this situation, let alone knowing what to do to resolve it, “Do ye have anything to add, Darren? How long’s this been going on?”

“I dunno, since he started the school,” Darren shrugged, “I mean, I’ll be honest, I used to join in but like, I had a word with the fellas just sayin’ ‘here, Preston’s sound, yous shouldn’t be starting on him like that’ and.. well..” 

His words trailed off as he found himself unsure where he was going with that point, although he was still convinced he’d made some sense, even if the Principal was looking at him like he had two heads. 

“Right.. okay. Well I’m not really sure what yous want me to do here to fix this, but my only alternative is moving Preston into a different class. Would that help?” He offered, scraping the barrel for something to fix this.

Preston looked up, his eyes meeting first the Principal’s and then Darren’s. He bit his bottom lip in thought, mulling the offer over in his head. While it’d definitely be nice to get away from those two, he could hardly leave Darren in there on his own, plus he’d have to go through being the new lad all over again when he already had two mates in the class he was in now.

“No, I want to stay in me class.” Preston muttered, feeling guilty now as if he was wasting everyone’s time, as if they wouldn’t have all ended up in the office no matter what he’d said when he was told to come down.

Calum glared over at the two, once again cutting off the principal as he spoke up out of turn, “Yer a poxy snake, Darren. Don’t forget you started on the fella first, slagging him off every poxy day with us. Now yer actin so bleedin’ innocent!”

As it was, Calum was speaking the sad truth. He wasn’t wrong about Darren’s sudden switch up, not one bit and that was enough for Preston to get up and leave the room quickly, knowing with his weak stomach that he’d end up vomiting on the floor if he didn’t reach a toilet soon enough. Darren watched his mate barge out of the room, knowing too that Calum was right. It had only been about three weeks since the dark-haired boy had started being even remotely nice to Preston, that really wasn’t that much when you compare it to how much torment he and his mates had put him through on top of that.

“Shut the fuck up, Calum!” Darren snapped, turning his head to the blonde, “Just coz I realised what I was doin’ and you’re still a bleedin’ scumbag!” 

He didn’t care what Calum had to say, all he wanted was for him to shut up so he could focus on Preston; make sure he was alright, he was his mate after all.

Calum laughed, furrowing his brows back at Darren mockingly, almost forgetting their principal was in the room as he spoke again, “Nah, just coz the fella’s at to given’ ye some head and now he’s yer boyfriend. Turned ye gay, pal, ye pure saddos.”

With that, the principal snapped before Darren could get a reply out, clearly seeing the wrong that sat in the room now first hand. Darren was given three days detention for fighting, starting tomorrow, whereas Calum was given a weeks suspension, the principal keeping him in the office to call home while Darren was free to go. 

He headed immediately to the bathrooms, knowing that was where Preston would have gone if he was upset, just as he always did. 

“Pres?” He called out tentatively, scanning the stalls to see if any were locked, his eyes landing on the last one, which was the only one to have its door shut.

He stood up against it and lightly rapped against the door with his knuckles, the familiar sound of the lock sliding out of place coming and revealing Preston’s bleary-eyed, puffy face.

“Did he just let ye leave?” He asked with a croaky tone, moving back as Darren entered the cubicle, the fella sitting on the floor as Preston remained standing up.

Darren nodded, “Got three days detention; Cal got a week suspended coz he was still chatting bollox after you left.”

He gestured for Preston to join him, which the brunette did slowly after a second, Darren immediately slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side, his hand resting on his shoulder and rubbing it comfortingly once or twice.

“Should be expelled; the state of your fuckin’ face.” Preston tutted, Darren only snickering and ruffling his hair, which was especially fluffy today.

“Shut up, ye fool. I’ve had worse.” He assured, leaning back further against the door and allowing for Preston to slump even further into him now, the sorry lad lay softly against his chest just slightly.

“Ye wanna come to mine tonight?” Preston offered after a moment of comfortable silence, his eyes even slowly drooping shut, the gentle comfort of Darren’s hand that still remained in his hair making him sleepier by the second.

“Course I do, mate. Dying to see what your gaff looks like.” Darren tittered, leaning his head against Preston’s as the two got as comfortable as possible in the dingy toilet cubicle.

Chapter Text

22nd November 2024

Over a month had passed since that meeting in the principal's office and the four lads barely even gave each other a passing glance now. Of course, little tiffs came up here and there; snarky comments in passing or a pencil to the back of the head, but nothing as extreme as before. It was always something that would blow over before the start of the next class. By now, Preston most certainly considered Darren to be a true friend. He was there for him properly, not just responding to any issues by blaming them on Preston in some way, as if he’d done anything to bring that bullying onto himself. The two were always around one another; barely seen apart. They’d graduated from meeting up in toilet cubicles to actually hanging out where people could see them, no matter what they may have to say. Amelia was still a good friend, although, for no-one’s fault but life itself, they’d grown apart. She had her own friends and Preston had Darren; no hard feelings were felt on either side. 

There was only one problem Preston was still facing after all this time, one which he cursed himself for every day. Darren still had no idea he was trans. Not a clue at all. He didn’t know why on Earth he hadn’t just bitten the bullet and came out with it yet because Darren would surely understand. Of course he would. All those jokes and comments he made about ‘trannies’ he saw in the streets and online obviously didn’t apply to Preston; why would they? The two were friends, surely something as small as that would change nothing.

Christ, who was he kidding? He was essentially living a double life at this point. Killing his ribs by sleeping in his binder, making his Ma say old photos of him around the house were his cousin (which Darren somehow bought), never changing in the same room as the fella, the list went on. He had no idea how Darren hadn’t even suspected anything yet, although supposedly it all worked to Preston’s benefit. For now at least.

Calum and Eoin had changed in themselves too, even if by the slightest amount. Their relationship was a little bit more like a normal friendship, Eoin far less of a suck up and Calum more likely to actually consider him a mate and not just a bit of spineless entertainment when his other friends weren’t around. 

The two were sitting at the back of Irish now, Calum having already finished all his work and allowing Eoin to copy from his worksheet. Seemingly this entire situation was wildly out of character for the blonde, although Irish had always been the only class Calum participated in. Going to a Gaelscoil as a child meant he was practically fluent, seeing the class in secondary school as nothing but a waste of time.

“Are ye almost done?” Calum asked gruffly, making the brunette next to him startle and accidentally scribble across his sentence.

“Givvus a poxy minute, Cal.” Eoin replied, furrowing his brow as he wrote the same three words out again.

Calum rolled his eyes, flicking the back of Eoin’s ear messingly but still with enough force that it actually hurt, Eoin wincing in response and swatting back at the blonde.

“Here, Calum,” A girl spoke up from the desk to the pair’s right, “what’s milk again?”

She spoke flirtatiously, giggling as if she’d said something dirty and not just asked what a drink was called in their native language. Her hair was bleached blonde and pin straight; her eyebrows laminated and plucked into a perfect shape; her skin darkened with fake tan that hadn’t a patch of blotchiness. In other words, she was gorgeous, although Calum couldn’t for the life of him remember her name, despite the fact he’d been in this school for five years already now.          

“Bainne.” He replied shortly, immediately turning back to Eoin with a look that silently said ‘stupid bitch’, which the brunette couldn’t help but giggle at.

“I’m havin’ a party tonight, if ye wanna come?” The girl continued, leaning across the gap in the two tables, “Eoin can come too, loads are going already.”

Calum rolled his eyes as if to ask why she was still talking, although as the prospect of a party settled in, a smile slowly crept across his lips, Eoin sharing in his excitement.

“Where at?” Calum asked, returning his expression to one of neutrality as he turned to face the blonde again.

“My house.” The girl responded, her face faltering slightly as she assumed that was obvious.

Calum nodded, “Just givvus ye snap then ‘n’ send us yer address.” 

The girl momentarily looked back at her friend next to her who shared the same expression of disbelief, “Calum, ye have me snap. Are ye dense?”

“Piss off, I know. I was messin’.” Calum lied unsuccessfully in a slight huff, looking at Eoin with arms folded, “What’s her-”

“Kiera, bro.” Eoin cut off with a titter, dodging Calum’s second swat for laughing at him.

***

Calum’s bedroom was just as freezing as usual later that evening as he and Eoin got ready for the party. The brunette’s Da had dropped his outfit off after a painstakingly long facetime call in which he got the poor man to check every crevice of his wardrobe in search for the specific pair of On Clouds that he just had to wear, Calum snickering in the background throughout the entire ordeal. 

Eoin returned from the bathroom after studying himself in the mirror for an excessive amount of time, half of which was spent making sure not a hair was out of place in his precious scouse trim. He stood at the foot of the bed which Calum was sprawled out on, the blonde having not even thought about getting ready yet as he was still sitting in his tiger Oodie - ears on the hood included - and remained unshowered.

“Are ye sure I don’t look like a thick, Cal?” Eoin asked timidly.

He was dressed in a red and black Montirex shorts set, hands in the short’s pockets as he stood awkwardly in front of Calum, forcing himself to keep eye contact.  

Calum looked up from the loudly playing reels on his phone with a scowl, giving Eoin a quick once over before nodding.

“Ye look fresh.”           

A small smile crept onto Eoin’s lips as he nodded back and took a seat on the bed next to his mate, eyes running over him a little worriedly.

“Are ye not gonna get ready soon? The thing starts at eight..” He asked, eyes unable to help flicking to the top left corner of Calum’s phone screen where the time showed that it was already 7:38pm.

Calum tutted sharply, “Who the fuck’s gettin’ to a party when it starts? We’ll leave at like.. nine or su’um. Where does she live again?” 

“Err.. the village, I think.” Eoin replied, fixing one of Calum’s sweat-stained pillows behind him to get comfortable since they weren’t leaving anytime soon.     

The other boy only grunted, continuing to doom-scroll through his phone as Eoin lay by his side, head slightly peaked over Calum’s shoulder to see the cracked screen. The noise of Calum’s laboured breathing through his stuffy nose was the only sound that filled the room for a short while, Eoin failing to act like the gentle noise and baltic temperature weren’t slowly lulling him to sleep.

“Here, does that Kiera bird fancy me or su’um?” Calum piped up out of nowhere, tilting his head off to the side to meet Eoin’s gaze, his light blue eyes unusually innocent-looking.

“Wha’?” Eoin scoffed amusedly, his expression slightly faltering with the sudden change in proximity, “I dunno, probably; she was all over ye earlier. Could ye not tell?”

Calum had never been one to catch on to things like social cues or undertones in other’s voices, only ones that the fella would have had to be legally blind to miss. Kiera’s flirting had clearly slipped right past him, however.

“Well, yeah, obviously,” He lied, “I just.. didn’t know if it was just me, y'know."

Eoin smirked, all the lads closest to Calum knowing what he was like in that aspect. You had to give him a nudge every other time a girl was trying to get on to him, to which he’d turn to whichever one of his mates had done so with an irritable frown and a loud: “Awh, wha?!”, followed by a quieter: “Ohh.”, accompanied by a subtle nod, before he’d turn back to the girl in question and immediately start working away. The majority of the time he wasn’t even sure he even found them fit, it was just some sort of unconscious obligation. I mean, if the lads agreed a girl was good-looking then she must be.        

“Nah, I reckon you’re in there.” Eoin shrugged, pushing himself to sit up in the bed and stretching his back out as he moved, Calum’s eyes following him.

“Yeah, sound.” The blonde muttered, his attention clearly elsewhere, “Gonna go shower.”           

Eoin only nodded, holding back on any further questions, even if that interaction had seemed more than odd. 

Calum entered the bathroom, ignoring the muffled mix of the TV and arguing voices coming from the sitting room downstairs. After locking the door behind him and turning on the shower, he stood in front of the mirror, studying his reflection with scrutiny. Tugging his hood down, he exposed the greasy strands of his blonde hair which stayed pushed back after he ran his fingers through them. It had been three nights since he’d managed to get a proper rest. Tuesday his Ma and Da were at each other’s throats in the early hours of the morning over the electricity bill; Wednesday he’d been out on the streets of town with a few of his mates from Coolock until around 4am; Thursday his Uncle had him out on a ‘little drive’ that had taken them all the way up to Belfast for no actual reason. The dark circles under his eyes were telling, as were the few small pimples that had begun to spring up on his cheek, just at the bottom of his scar, although thankfully none of them were overly obvious. The humidity from the heating shower soon snapped Calum from his thoughts and he tugged his slightly-ragged Oodie and black boxers off, dropping them to the floor and stepping into the bathtub.

***

The two lads were on their bus for no more than five stops before they reached Kiera’s area. Calum was dressed in a light blue and navy Trailberg tracksuit with a pair of black 95s which didn’t exactly match too well. His hair was still slightly damp which only made him colder as he walked with Eoin by his side, hands shoved into his pockets.

“D’ye know what way we’re goin’?” Calum asked, surveying the empty streets as if he thought he was about to get jumped.

“Yeah, it’s this one here.” Eoin replied as he led them down a side road, the music blaring out of Kiera’s back garden already audible.

A few people were gathered outside the front of the house, the front door left ajar. One of the fellas looked over at the approaching pair, a smile spreading across his lips as all three of them recognised each other in the same second.

“Alright, Cal? Eoin?” Nathan greeted, heading up to the two lads as they entered the front gate, dapping Calum up and pulling him into a short half-hug, doing the same to Eoin after.

Nathan was a larger lad, a little more than chubby, with brown hair that always looked better when it wasn’t cut so tightly into a skin fade as it was now. His cheeks were painted with light freckles and his eyes were a soft shade of blue. The fella had one of those faces which was just sweet, which matched his genuine personality perfectly. His girlfriend, Leah, was outside too. Her ginger hair was long and straightened, her make-up done for the night and skin tanned by sunbeds. Deep brown eyes looked beautiful below her fluffy false lashes and it seemed a smile was always on her face. 

“Yup, Nathan, ye big pedo. What ye doin’ here, bro?” Calum messed, a genuine grin on his face, clearly not expecting his best mate to have been here.

Nathan rolled his eyes with a humored tut, “I’m about eight months older than ye, bro, give it a rest.” 

“Pedo.” Calum repeated to Eoin, the brunette only snickering, relieved there was someone here besides Calum that he knew, even if he and Nathan were nothing more than mutual friends.

Calum headed inside after a second, greeting Leah on his way past as she stood with her own friends, Eoin scuttling along behind him. It seemed the blonde knew almost everyone there, Eoin standing around awkwardly as his friend caught up with what seemed like at least fifty different people, rarely having anything more to say past introducing himself. 

The house was packed with people, about an equal split of fellas and birds inside. Every seat on the two sofas was filled, a few just perching themselves down on the arms or backs, a few girls on lad’s knees too. The TV was playing music at near full volume, a fella with brown hair and glasses sat discreetly turning it up every few seconds while those around him weren’t paying attention. Eoin’s eyes lingered on him momentarily with a frown, more so his outfit than anything. All he was wearing was a black t-shirt and a pair of baggy jeans, which really wasn’t out of the ordinary in any respect. Calum caught Eoin staring and followed his gaze, looking back at Eoin after seeing the fella.

“D’ye know him, or su’um?” He asked, having to speak relatively close to the brunette’s ear to even be heard.

“Wha’? No. Just, like.. state of them jeans. Didn’t know Kiera was mates with emos.” Eoin replied, quite clearly trying too hard to gain Calum’s approval still.

Calum snorted, “Shut up, Eoin. Got a better fit on than you.” 

Two canisters of fast gas stood by the side of the TV stand, a slightly older, ginger lad beginning to fill up balloons for those who’d asked. The coffee table was littered with drinks and bottles - some empty, some full, no-one entirely sure which was theirs anymore after they’d put them down. Next door, the kitchen was in a similar state, people sat up on the counters drinking and snacking on what they could find in Kiera’s cupboards and fridge. Just as the front door was, the back door was left open too, those sitting outside having their own speaker which played its own insanely loud songs. A few people stood and a few sat in a circle on garden chairs, a joint was being shared between them all, as were many far-fetched stories which made less and less sense as they went on. 

Eoin and Calum joined those outside, taking two seats from a couple who’d decided to head upstairs, which Kiera wasn’t aware of to anyone’s knowledge. 

“Dirty cunts.” Calum snickered as the group watched the curtains be drawn and the bedroom light go out. 

“Out straight, bro. Swear that’s her Ma’s bedroom too.” A dark-haired fella added in agreement, arising further laughter from the others. 

Joints continued to be passed around the circle as the night went on, Calum even having brought his own that he’d picked up from Aidan a few days prior. Conversation flowed from topic to topic, Eoin growing increasingly bored sitting around all these strangers, as well as cold, the dark nights not helping when it came to the temperature. 

“I’m gonna head inside, bro.” He said to Calum after around an hour, the blonde brushing him off with a nod and an incoherent murmur.

Eoin got up from his chair, walking over the damp grass and trying not to cringe at the feeling of it soaking in through his shoes. He squeezed past a few girls in the kitchen, making his way into the living room where, thankfully, he spotted Nathan. The fella sat in the corner of a grey, L-shaped sofa, texting someone with a vape in his free hand.

“Alright, Nathan?” Eoin greeted a little nervously, as if the lad would ever be a prick to him under any circumstance.

“Huh? Oh, heya, Eoin. Sit down.” He smiled back, gesturing to a spot on the sofa next to him with his head.

Eoin complied, relaxing into the warmth of the room and chair after freezing his arse off for almost an hour and a half outside. His cheeks flushed lightly with the change in temperature, smiling at no-one with heavy eyes as the weed’s effects picked up.

“I’ve not seen you in ages. How’re ye?” Nathan spoke up now he’d put his phone away, taking a puff of his vape after speaking.

“I’m good, bro.” Eoin began, the two soon in full conversation about each other’s lives.

Nathan didn’t have too much to say. He was still the same sound bastard he always was, still working in Centra. He had a few funny stories to tell, although, with him being from Blanchardstown, Eoin didn’t know any of the people featuring in them. Nathan was the first to bring up the whole situation with Darren, having only heard Calum’s side and wanting a slightly less biased version.

“Ah, Darren’s sound, bro.” He interjected drunkenly towards the end of Eoin’s recollection, “So what if the fella’s gay? You and Cal would wanna cop on… but don’t tell him I said that, ye know what he’s like.”

Nathan, out of all people, knew Calum the best, the two having been best friends since they were in junior infants. He knew how to navigate his anger; how to calm the fella down; how to make him laugh when he was in a pisser. They were the type of friends that could go months without seeing each other and have nothing change between them at all, Eoin would be lying if he said he didn’t get jealous from time to time. 

“Yeah, but ye don’t know what this Preston fella’s like. He’s a pure faggot, Nath.” Eoin tried to explain, Nathan shaking his head.

“He can’t be that bad. Yer just jealous Darren can pull.” He replied with a laugh, never one to keep things serious. 

Eoin just brushed Nathan’s teasing off with a laugh and a scoffed, “Fuck off, as if.”, his attention soon caught by that same ginger fella in the corner from before, who he now knew as Joe.

“Here, do any of yous wanna balloon before I go to the shops? I don’t trust yous doin’ yer own.” He asked, conversation quietening down as he spoke.

A few people said yes, standing up or leaning over from their seats to hand over their now empty balloons. Eoin watched, debating things for a second before speaking up too.

“Can I get one?” He asked, still a little nervous to try gas even with the weed and alcohol in his system. 

“Course, bro.” Joe answered casually, picking up another balloon for Eoin and beginning to fill it for him.

“Just hold it there.” He instructed as he handed it over, pinching the neck of the balloon between his thumb and pointer finger to stop any gas escaping.

Eoin nodded, sitting back down next to Nathan who looked over at him and spoke with a smirk, “Ye ever done that before?”

“Yeah, course, loads.” Eoin lied, actually able to be believable when he did, unlike Calum.

Nathan took his word for it, looking up as Leah reentered the room from the kitchen, the girl taking a seat on the arm of the sofa where Nathan snaked his arm around her waist. Eoin’s eyes settled on the neck of the balloon, swallowing a nervous lump in his throat as he mentally bigged himself up to just take a breath from it. He’d been there when Calum had had balloons before and so assumed he knew the technique, although failed to take into account if there was any limit on just how much he should be inhaling at once. By now he felt as if everyone’s eyes were on him, even if, in reality, no-one was even looking in his direction, they were all just focused on their own conversations, drink and drugs. Although, as he internally cursed himself, Eoin built up enough courage to just go for it. Putting the balloon to his lips, he took a deep breath, inhaling for almost as long as it would take for him to blink a vape. It took less than a second for things to kick in, his head slowly beginning to pulsate as if it had a heartbeat, the booming noise of the party immediately drowned out by an insane ringing in his ears. His body slumped back in the chair, which he was unable to even feel behind him, eyes slowly clouding with black spots in front of his vision. Part of him was sure he heard a girl scream dramatically, Nathan’s face above his soon visible.

“Eoin? Eoin, bro? It’s Nathan, are ye alright? Fuck- Eoin!” He fussed, slapping the side of the brunette’s face with a needed roughness. 

The group in the sitting room began to gather around Eoin, the brunette unable to even comprehend what was even going on. He was fine, Jesus.

“Would yous all fuck off.. I’m fine.” Eoin protested, trying to stand and only flopping right back down into his seat. 

“Jesus, sit down, Eoin.” Nathan half-snapped, his nerves getting the better of him as he had been trying to keep his tone somewhat reassuring.

“Will ye get Calum from out the back?” He asked, turning to Leah who nodded and got straight up, knocking over her own drink on the floor as she hurried out.

—

“I know, bro! That’s what I-”

“Calum!” Leah cut off hurriedly as she ran over, the blonde scowling as he turned to see who’d interrupted him, his face softening slightly with the realisation it was Nathan’s bird.

“Wha?” He still snapped, the others sat with him staring back at the ginger girl quizzically.

“Ye need to come in, Eoin’s.. he’s like tweakin’ or su’um! Nathan just told me to get ye.” She explained without stopping to breathe, her own hands shaking as she found herself unable to stand still.

Calum’s frown deepened, standing immediately from his chair and storming back inside, the conversation from those he’d left stilling to confused, concerned murmurs.

“What happened?” Calum snapped, Leah trying her best to keep up with his large strides as she followed beside him.

“He- he was on the fast gas and.. I dunno he just started tweakin’ out, like.. he must’ve just had too much but, like, I wasn’t watching.” She desperately explained as they made their way through the rooms to Eoin, Calum not hesitating to barge past people who had the misfortune of being in his way. 

“Stupid, dozy cunt.” Calum grumbled, entering the sitting room seconds after. 

Eoin was still sprawled back in that same spot on his chair, Nathan and a crowd of strangers gathered around him, the former pulling back as Calum arrived, the rest remaining gawking and snapping at the dazed brunette.

“Will yous fuck off!” Calum ordered, a few of the fellas frowning at him even if they did listen and give the lad some space.

“Eoin, bro. Come on.” He spoke, slightly softer but no less loud.

Calum leant down in front of Eoin, gesturing for Nathan to move back in to help the brunette sit up. Nathan put one hand on the small of Eoin’s back and used his other arm to prop up his shoulders, a blonde girl that was in the room handing a bottle of water to Calum which he took with a small nod as thanks. Eoin looked at Calum with fluttering eyelids, feeling himself be pushed up but not the hands and arm that did so.

“Calum, I’m grand.” He assured unconvincingly, Calum hearing none of it.

“No yer not!” He snapped, his care for his mate coming out as worried anger, “Ye fuckin’ fool, how much did ye have?”

“Just a little bit, bro, like..” Eoin trailed off, Calum momentarily looking off to the side as he sighed.

“Yer an eejit, ye know that?” He continued to berate, Nathan shaking his head at Calum’s words.

“Here, Cal.” 

“Wha?!” Calum near-shouted, Nathan not even flinching.

“Chill, yeah? He’s gonna be alright, just coach him through it. He needs you, alright?” Nathan reassured, Calum nodding along with his words as he tried to calm himself.

“Alright, alright, whatever.” Calum muttered, sighing away his irritation and turning back to Eoin, who barely even managed to meet his gaze, “Come on, Eo. Can ye stand up?” 

Eoin nodded, immediately trying to push himself up. He stood for half a second, although soon fell forward into Calum, the blonde catching him and standing up with the fella.

“Here, have some. Fucks sake.” Calum instructed, offering up the water bottle to Eoin’s lips, the brunette slowly taking a sip, Calum making sure Eoin was gripping it properly before he took his hand away.

“Right, come on.” Calum sighed after a second, slowly leading Eoin out of the room with Nathan’s help.

Both lads had their arms looped under Eoin’s shoulders as they helped him to walk, the poor brunette looking close to dead as he stumbled along. Calum continued to scold him as they made their way to the front door, shaking his head as he took all his worried anger out through belittling his mate for even trying gas without him around, his own heart racing the longer it took for Eoin to come back to his full senses.

“How’re ye gonna get him home?” Nathan asked, letting go of Eoin now they were outside and the fella could pretty much stand for himself.

Calum scanned the drive they stood on, eyes landing straight on some fella’s unattended motorbike that had foolishly - or more likely drunkenly - been left leant up against the wall with the keys still inserted. 

“Stand that up for me, bro, will ye?” Calum asked, Nathan quickly following his gaze to the bike and snickering disapprovingly. 

“Yer a scumbag.” He chided with a smirk, although still did what his mate said and fixed the bike for him to get on. 

Calum climbed onto the bike, Nathan helping Eoin get on behind him. The brunette wrapped his arms tightly around Calum, cheek rested on his mate’s back as the blonde revved up the engine, Nathan laughing as he watched.

“Ye better just be borrowing that.” He teased, Calum turning his head around to flash him a grin.

“Ye, course, bro. I’ll have it back tomorrow.” Calum replied, his tone making it hard to tell whether there was any seriousness to his words, knowing him, it was a 50/50 bargain.

“Yeah, fuck off, ye fool.” Nathan tittered, turning to head back inside as the blonde rode off, snaking a hand around to hold Eoin close to him, not risking the fella falling off after all that.

***

They got home in no time, welcomed back to Calum’s gaff by a screaming match taking place in the sitting room between his Uncle and Ma. Calum hadn’t even been through the door for a second and he’d already been dragged into their likely pointless argument, the blonde just signalling for the slightly more coherent Eoin to head upstairs as he yelled back.

“Is that you, Darragh?! What fuckin’ time do ye call this?” The shrill voice of Calum’s Ma came piercing through the shut door, confusing the teen for his Da.

“Fuck off, Ma!” Calum yelled back, loudly beginning to stomp up the paint-stained stairs which had been ‘getting new carpet laid soon’ for five years now.

“Don’t talk to me like that, ye dirty cunt! Who do ye think ye are?” She screamed, opening the door to stick her head out, making Calum stop in his tracks to stare down at her. She was an unnaturally slim woman, who looked older than her age from years of substances. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, stray hairs sticking up every-which-way.

“I’m eighteen next year, Ma, I’ll talk to ye how I fuckin’ want!” Calum argued back, his body burning with rage at the sight of her haggard face, his need to move out of this house growing by the day. 

“Yeah and ye can start to pay the bills when ye are! I’m sick of you and yer Da, drunk bastards the both of yous! I know ye’ve been drinkin’, I can smell it of ye, ye scruffy, little rat! When was the last time ye even got in the bath?!” She continued on, making arguments just to entertain herself at this point. All she ever wanted was a reaction and Calum gave in every single time. 

“About three hours ago, fuck off!” Calum shouted, forcing the words from his mouth with so much vitriol it left a scorching pain in the back of his throat.

The woman’s yells continued on as he retreated to his bedroom although she made no move to follow him up the stairs, simply returning to her original fight with the blonde’s Uncle once Calum’s door slammed behind him. Both voices echoing through the house. 

Eoin had stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt and was already huddled up underneath Calum’s duvet, the overwhelming nausea he was beginning to feel from all the drink and weed he’d consumed earlier in the night making him just want to sleep already. Calum said nothing as he entered the room, ripping his clothes from his body as he tried to channel his anger into something that wasn’t destructive of either himself or any of his belongings. He picked up his Oodie from the floor and yanked it over his head, grunting angrily as his arm got stuck in the rolled up sleeve. 

“Fuckin’ stupid yoke!” He scorned through gritted teeth, eventually getting it on properly and letting out a deep sigh.

“I can’t poxy sleep if they’re gonna be like that all night.” He complained as he got into the bed and under the duvet, a slight crack present in his voice as his ears rang with the pain of the incessant noise. 

“It’s alright, bro. Just sleep with yer airpods in.” Eoin muttered sleepily, treading lightly with his words.

“Shut up, Eoin.” Calum snapped, although followed the brunette’s suggestion, leaning over to fetch them from his bedside table. 

He connected them to his phone and began to play music at the loudest volume, even that only barely blocking out the noises of argument. Eoin could hear every word of the songs Calum was playing, although decided to just deal with it for both of their sakes. Shuffling momentarily to get comfortable, he rolled onto his side, facing Calum’s back. He stretched out a tired hand to softly pat the blonde’s bicep before pulling away.

“G’night, Cal.”