S.M

Chapter Fourteen

Will met Kyle outside his secondary school. He had to wait at the gates as the students steamed out. As he expected, Kyle had a rotten expression. That expression probably had something to do with him having seen Will. Will waved. "Kyle, hey."

Kyle came over, pulling his headphones off. "What are you doing here?" He practically growled.

"I'm here to see you." Will answered him. "Laragh said you two usually meet now, and she didn't mind freeing up your afternoon."

"So instead of her crap I have to listen to yours." Kyle muttered. "Whatever. Are we going all the way to shop street, or can we stop by somewhere here?"

"I thought we could visit the art gallery in the city centre." Will suggested. "It's open until half eight today. Is that something you'd be interested in?" He expected Kyle to shoot down whatever he suggested, and he could see clearly that the idea didn't make him look too pleased.

"Do you like art?" Kyle asked.

"I haven't ever taken a special interest. I did art for the junior cert, but I was pretty terrible at it." Will explained. "Seeing an art gallery could be good though."

Kyle glanced at the passing students. There was nothing but reluctance in his gaze.

"Is there something else you'd rather do?" Will questioned. "The point of the thing is to just to spend time together, right?"

Kyle blinked up at Will, for once the animosity leaving his eyes. Will wondered what he'd said to warrant it.

"Is that not the point?" Will asked, doubting himself when Kyle remained utterly silent, but didn't seem to be doing it out of spite.

"How the hell I'm supposed to know?" Kyle snapped suddenly. "The last dick-head lectured me for hours about how to live right, and be better, and be a good fucking person—the one before that would look at me like I'm an idiot and sigh. And you—" he stopped.

Will put his hands into his pockets, and faced Kyle as the outburst continued. "What did I do?" He asked, fully aware he was poking the beast. He felt as if they needed to get this part out of the way. And he felt like even if he didn't, Kyle would be giving him a mouthful.

"You just sit there smiling as if your not the exact type of guy who gives the rest of us sad lot body image issues." Kyle got out. It was a guttural sound. More growling.

Will took in a hard breath and thought it over. "I get what you mean. I'm athletic."

"Yeah. And whoever thinks it was good idea to pair you up with anyone in my group is an idiot." Kyle was talking about Laragh again.

"I look like this because I spent years staring at pictures of what an actual guy is supposed to look like." Will said suddenly, the admission leaving him before he'd really thought it out. He paused then, to consider, and found in the aftermath he wasn't really bothered. Kyle was in the program for a reason. He was like Will. "I stared and I stared, until I started starving myself."

Kyle looked up at him, his green eyes scrutinising. Will weathered the look.

"When was that?" Kyle asked.

Will cast his eyes to the remnants of students getting on buses. "Second year." Will couldn't remember a time when he didn't obsess over the differences between himself and everyone else. He certainly had during primary school, when his classmates were crushing on one another and asking each other out through notes. Maybe if he wasn't gay he wouldn't have been as preoccupied with how a guys body could actually look? Maybe that was why he spent so long staring at pictures?