Wanna Get Ficced?

Title: A Boy From Nowhere (9/?)
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps
Rating: PG-13 (Language)
Summary: Guy and Kyle have an awkward conversation. And then Guy and Mace have an awkward conversation.

Dis: Lies and bullshit, as always.

Author's Notes: I meant for "Boy from Nowhere" to be a single, 1500 word story, but it grew, so I let it, and it fits in with other prompts for my dcu_freeforall table, so it's grown. The prompt for this bit is "leadership." And more love to lasergirl, who reads it before you see it and tells me if it's ready.

Previous Parts: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight


The Boy from Nowhere (9/?)
By Perpetual Motion

Guy wakes up a few hours later, forcing back the yawn that tries to rise up. He sits up in bed and listens to the noise in Mace's apartment as he considers what he needs to do. He needs to piss and eat and…There are voices coming from the living room. One is Mace. The other. Guy blinks, fights back another yawn, and pushes himself up from the bed. He stumbles towards the bathroom and relives himself, one hand on the back of the toilet. When he walks out, Mace is waiting by the door, a protein shake in his hand.

"Down the hatch," Mace says, "and there's a guy named Kyle here with your homework."

Guy slurps the shake through the straw, following Mace back to the living room. Kyle is sitting on one end of the couch, a soda on the coffee table in front of him, and Guy's books stacked on the middle cushion. Kyle's staring at him, and Guy rolls his shoulder to try and shake off the awkwardness. "Hey," Guy says.

"Hi." Kyle looks down at his hands, looks back at Guy. "Coach Kilowog said you needed someone to bring you your homework, and then he handed me your books, and…I figured he meant me." Kyle reaches for his soda. He takes a long drink. "You're…you're pretty bruised, huh?"

"Yeah," Guy replies, because he's not sure if that's an invitation to explain. He hears Mace chuckle behind him, and he swings his leg back, catches him in the shin.

"I'm gonna go…do…something," Mace mumbles, and he walks down the hall, closing the door to his bedroom.

Guy walks over to the couch, sits on the end opposite Kyle. He puts his glass on the coffee table and reaches for the stack of books on the middle cushion. "How badly did Mr. Jordan screw me?"

"Pretty bad. He assigned a paper while you were…" Kyle stares at Guy's face again. "While you were in the hospital," he finishes.

There's a headache edging around Guy's eyes, and he tries to push it back. "It doesn't hurt," he says. "I can't feel most of it because of the stuff they have me on for my jaw."

"Oh. That's…that’s good."

Guy looks up from flipping through his history book. "Something…" he doesn't know how to phrase it. "I don't remember a lot about what happened," he says. "I know I talked to Coach, and I think I talked to you."

Kyle squirms. "Yeah." He stands up so fast he nearly falls over. "I need to…I've…My mom's gonna wonder where I am." He doesn’t move, just stays standing by the couch, hands clenching and unclenching.

Guy watches him, unsure what to do. "I'm supposed to go back to school next week," he says. "I guess I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah." Kyle steps around the coffee table, takes two steps towards the door, stops. "Wait. I can't…You don't remember talking to me the day…" He gestures to Guy's face. "You don't remember that?"

Guy shakes his head. "No. They told me I've got brain damage."

"Oh. I didn’t…that didn't get around school."

"People at school know?" It's an idea Guy hasn't considered, and he presses his palms flat against his book to keep his hands from shaking.

Kyle looks down, jams his hands into his pockets. He glances at Guy, looks away again, and directs his answer towards the carpet. "It made the paper," he says. "They didn't give any names or addresses, but the story said that the vict—that you—were a student at school, and you being gone so long made some people start to say some stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

Kyle walks around the coffee table, drops into the armchair perpendicular to the couch. "They guessed it was you, and then other people started talking about how they'd seen you with bruises and stuff, and then you were gone."

"Shit," Guy mutters. He closes his history book, puts it back on the stack. "So everyone knows?"

"Everyone thinks they know." Kyle doesn't sound like he believes it makes a difference. "You could tell them something else."

"Yeah. Sure."

Silence lands in the room. Kyle and Guy look at one another, then away. Guy takes in a breath to tell Kyle he can leave, but before he can do anything, Kyle jumps out of his seat and rocks back on his heels. "I'm sorry," he nearly shouts. "I'm really, really sorry. I was gonna apologize, but then you said you couldn't remember, and I figured I could get away with it, but I just…I can't just pretend like I didn't act like an asshole, because I did act like an asshole, and…I'm sorry."

Guy blinks. "You're sorry?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You…you told me your dad was going to really whale on you. You said you were worried about going home because you thought it'd be worse than usual, and you asked if you could—if you could stay at my place. And I…" Kyle looks away, over Guy's shoulder at the opening to the hallway. "I told you to leave me alone. I thought you were…I thought you were getting back at me for being kind of a jerk to you about the whole thing in the lockerroom. I thought you were trying to make everything sound really bad to make me feel bad for pushing you about the whole thing."

"Coach came to see me in the hospital," Guy says, looking down at the coffee table. "He said I yelled at you to leave me alone."

"Yeah." Kyle slumps back into the armchair. "But, I mean, I had it coming. I mean…" He looks Guy in the face, eyes lingering on some of the darker bruises. "If I'd let you crash at my place you'd—"

"He'd have done this to my mom," Guy interrupts. "I'd rather…My mom, she doesn't…" Guy runs a hand over his hair. "It's all really fucked up."

Kyle doesn’t respond for a long moment. "I don't know where my dad is," he says finally, voice quiet. "He's never been around, and my mom doesn't know where he is. She works a lot, and I have art class, and it sucks sometimes. And when I came out, most of my friends kind of freaked, and then I had a bunch of people who told me they thought they were gay, but none of them…they won't come out. And then you…" Kyle looks down at his hands. "I thought you'd be different."

It takes Guy a moment to find his voice. "Why?"

"I…I don't know. You were just always…You always seemed to know what you were doing and what you wanted, and when you…when you kissed me, I thought—" Kyle laces his fingers around the back of his head and hunches into himself. "I thought you knew what you were doing."

Guy tries to scoff. It doesn't quite work with his jaw wired. "How could I know what I'm doing?"

"You always know what you're doing," Kyle says, so certain Guy wonders if maybe it's true. "Everyone knows that."

"They do?"

Kyle unlaces his fingers, raises his head, gives Guy a searching look. "Are you fucking with me?"

"What?"

"You're acting like you don't know that everyone follows along after you."

Guy blinks. "What are you talking about?"

"You're…you're you, Guy. If you say something's cool, the whole school picks it up."

"Stop shitting me."

"I'm not! You're—" Kyle swallows back the rest of his sentence. "Oh. You didn't actually know that, did you?"

"I'm not popular."

"Yeah, you are."

Guy shakes his head. "No, I'm not. Tommy's—"

"Tommy's cool because you're cool."

"He's—"

"You're cool." Kyle states. "People listen to you."

"No, they don't."

"Yeah, they do." Kyle holds out his hand before Guy can disagree again. "Look, the point is that I thought you kissed me because you wanted—you wanted to come out. And you thought, maybe, that we'd get caught. And…and I'm sorry I was a dick."

"It's…" Guy ruffles his hair. "Okay," he says. "It's okay. I was a total dick, too." He shakes his head. "And I'm not popular."

"You are," Kyle says, and he smiles a little. " You actually are."

Guy unconsciously squints in confusion, then winces when it makes his head hurt. "I'm not anybody. I'm just a dumb jock."

"You're taking AP Calculus. All the dumb jocks are in Algebra II."

Guy looks at the stack of books on the couch. "It's just math."

Kyle snorts. "Yeah, just math." He stands and stretches, putting his arms behind his head. "Look, my mom's gonna be waiting for me to get home but if you…if you want to hang out, I'm around. I put my number on the sheet from Mr. Jordan." Kyle looks down, a blush flaring across his face. "And if you wanna go to a movie or something, I'd…I'd be up for that."

"Okay. Maybe. My mom's kinda protective right now."

"Okay." Kyle takes a step back towards the front door. "I'll see you at school if you don't have time to hang out this week."

"Yeah. See you." Guy watches Kyle leave, listens to the latch as he closes the door. He leans back against the couch cushions and puts his hands over his face. "Fuck," he mutters.

"He seems nice."

Guy nearly jumps out of his skin, but he doesn't yelp in surprise. When he whips around to face Mace, Mace still looks triumphant. "You were eavesdropping?"

"Yeah," Mace says, nonchalant. He walks over to the kitchen, opens the fridge, and pulls out a soda. He sets it on the open-air counter facing the living room and pops the top. "You kissed him, huh?"

"Shut up."

Mace waves a hand at Guy's tone. "I'm serious, Guy. I mean, you told me you were gay, but I hadn't realized you'd…tested it."

Guy covers his eyes with his hands. "You are so lame."

"What?"

"I'm…gay…Mace. It's not a science project." Guy drops his hands so he can look at Mace. "It's just…gay."

"You know that's not what I meant." Mace slumps into the armchair and puts his feet on the coffee table. "He really does seem like an okay guy."

"He draws," Guy says and wonders why he's said it. "He said I'm popular."

"You probably are."

"No, I'm not. I've never been popular."

"Is Kyle popular?"

"No."

"Then you probably are." Mace shrugs when Guy gives him a confused look. "Cop knowledge 101: If you want to know who's popular, ask the kids who aren't."

"What does being popular have to do with...the gay thing?"

Mace thinks for a moment, sipping his soda and crinkling his eyebrows together. "Kyle's out at school, right?"

"Yeah."

"On purpose?"

"Huh?"

"He wasn't caught out in something illicit, was he? He's out at school because he wants to be?"

"Yeah. I think so. I don't…I don't really know him very well. Like, I knew who he was, and I knew about the rumors, but we didn't really hang out much before…" Guy can't say the rest of it. Mace looks like he's about to start laughing. "Before." Guy finishes.

Mace coughs into his fist and looks away from Guy for a moment. "All right," he says, and his voice is even. When he looks at Guy again, his expression is serious. Then, judging by the way he was talking—"

"Fucking eavesdropper," Guy interrupts.

"—he's probably the only person who's actually fully out at your school," Mace finishes without missing a beat. "And if you were out, it'd help him a lot. It'd help the other gay kids a lot, too."

Guy mulls that over. "How does it help? I'd just be the other gay guy."

"No, you'd be the popular gay guy. The gay guy who plays football and who everyone wants to follow because he's cool."

Guy watches Mace's face, searching for the joke. "Really?"

"Yeah." Mace takes his feet off the coffee table and leans forward in his chair. "Look, Guy, I'm not saying you have to be out, okay? You told Mom and me, and you—apparently—kissed Kyle before telling either of us—"

"I didn't—"

"It's all right," Mace says, and his tone is low, soothing, like when they were kids, and their dad had finally passed out after screaming and throwing things for hours. "You told us. That's the part that matters. And, hell, given Dad, I'm surprised you ever said a word or even got within ten feet of a guy you wanted to kiss."

"I didn't know I wanted to," Guy confesses, and he doesn't mean to say anything more, but it starts to tumble out, half-slurred because of the wires in his mouth. "Tommy's been a dick about him all year, and it just kept bugging me, but I didn't want Tommy to think I was…I was gay, but then the whole thing just got—it reached this level, and I kept trying to stop myself, but I couldn't do it, you know? I couldn't—"

"I know," Mace interrupts. He reaches over and puts his hand on Guy's knee. "I moved out as soon as I could get the money together for a shit apartment. The tension in the house, especially with me going through the academy and learning the names for all the shit Dad did, it made crazy."

"Yeah," Guy mutters. "Kind of like that." He looks at Mace's hand on his knee, looks at Mace's face. "Everyone in school knows about Dad," he says even though he knows Mace already knows. "I don't…I don't think I can be this," he gestures to his face, "and be the other gay kid."

"That's okay," Mace says. He gives Guy's knee a shake. "Just remember, if something changes, if you decide to be out, don't show any fear, all right?"

He knows plenty about not showing fear, Guy thinks, about sticking out his jaw to give his dad better aim, about staying seated in his chair when his dad flipped the dining room table. About throwing the first punch so the fight could just happen and be over with. "If I was out…" Guy starts, "do you think it would make people leave Kyle alone?"

"No. People are going to be dicks because they want to be. But you being out could be an example to people. It could fuck with some expectations." Mace shrugs, leans back into the chair again, his hand sliding off Guy's knee. "Maybe it'd help other kids come out, too, but that's not your responsibility, okay? If you don't want to be out, you don't have to be. You can be Kyle's friend without putting yourself in the firing line."

But Kyle's in the firing line everyday, Guy thinks. Kyle probably spends most of his time at school waiting for people to mock him or knock him around. "I'm gonna think about it," Guy says. "Maybe not right away, you know? But if everyone already knows that dad's an asshole, it probably can't get much worse."

"And if it does," Mace replies, "you already know how to throw a punch." He grimaces as he says it. "That came out wrong."

Guy laughs, a sudden burst of sound he's not expecting. "You are such a fucking spaz."

"Yeah, well, at least I don't have to drink my dinner."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you." Mace stands up, leans over, and very carefully tousles Guy's hair. "When you make a decision, let me know, okay? I can get you some information about how to deal with any massive assholes legally."

"They teach you that stuff at the academy?"

Mace nods. "Between how to shoot a gun and how to take a blast of pepper spray to the face."

"They blast you with pepper spray?"

"Yup."

"Need to practice?"

Mace laughs. "No. You dick."

Guy watches Mace walk into the kitchen. "Thanks," he says when Mace is blocked by the fridge. "For…this."

Mace doesn't say anything for a long moment. "You're welcome," he replies, and Guy is pretty sure he's imagining the way Mace voice breaks a little.

Part Ten