#shared perspective

Warnings: Alcohol abuse. Implied intercourse. 

   Obtaining the fake ID was easy. Buying the drinks was easy. The flirting was easy. The release was easy; needed. But facing Shamus--that was hard.

Lock had a cast and Shamus had a swollen cheek when they first met; each taking note of the other.

           Abused..

           A bully?

           The only seat left open in class was the one in front of Lock. The students stared as Shamus crossed the length of the room to it; whispers echoing in their ears.

           The new kid and the sick kid..

           Lock's eyes, a magnificent, husky blue, darted away from the oncoming male. It was best if they didn't interact; avoided eye contact at all costs. Being the new one in school was hard enough, Lock knew all too well; and the last thing this Shamus Burns would want is to instantly be associated with.. him. And yet, as Shamus took his seat and Mrs. Holt continued her lecture on The French Revolution; the Scottish one would lean back in his seat and whistle a single, quiet note to get Lock's attention.

           "What'd you do to your arm?"

           "Who did that to your face?"

           The front legs of Shamus' chair met the floor once more and a silence fell between the two. A tingle of guilt traveled down Lock's spine. "Sorry."

           Shamus ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth, remaining silent. 

Previous

Three weeks had passed since Shamus had been seated in front of Lock. Three weeks and aside from the occasional glance and “good morning” when taking their seats, or the soft “thanks” when passing papers back, the boys hadn’t spoken a word to one another. Lock had gone back into his solitude and Shamus began to follow the path of every new kid: making friends with the right crowd.

           Lock idly scratched his arm where his cast once was, studying the small scar left from when bone broke skin. He could hear the voice of his professor droning on, but didn’t register a word of it-he didn’t need to. Biology was his best subject. Human Biology to be exact: organs, muscles, bones.

           “So what I want you all to do is find a partner,” These were the first words Lock truly heard, causing his gaze to snap from his scar to the tweed clad Mr. Holt in the front of the room, “and pick a part of the body-school appropriate.” He paused as the class giggled, “Then I want you to put together a presentation on any and all bones, muscles, and tendons located within the area.” He paused, scanning the room for any question. Seeing that there were no hands, he continued to speak, “You have three minutes to find a partner. Anyone left behind, I will assign to a partner. Go.”

           The classroom buzzed with life as Lock’s classmates changed seats and turned around in their chairs, each pair being made quickly and with ease while Lock remained motionless, allowing only his eyes to sink closed. He knew the drill.  He would have to wait for someone to be assigned to him-just like always.

           He listened to the buzz of the room: the shuffle of chairs, the laughing of students-longing for the three minutes to expire already--then woke to a touch of pointed finger to his chest.

           “Uh-Lock?”

           Ice blue eyes slid open, sinking into the deep oceans across from him. “Shamus.”

           The male had turned in his chair to face Lock; nervous.