A/N: I'm just trying out a new pairing to see how it goes. See if I don't crap it up.

--

Skittery was by no one's standards, least of all his own, a dreamy sort of guy. He didn't spend hours sitting at the window, staring out at the sky, hoping for a better life. He didn't dream that his knight in shining armor would appear on a white horse and whisk him away from the monotony of suburban life. Yes, knight. He knew he was gay…possibly the only gay boy in his school. Not that anyone knew he was gay. They all just assumed because he wore pink and not the lame pink like those jocks who wore the 'real men wear pink' t-shirts and thought they were clever.

He had known he was gay. His dad was gay too and often had his nubile young boyfriends over for dinner. Skittery could even remember some graduating before him or picking on him at recess back in elementary school. The thought disturbed him. Although it was ironic that the boys who called him 'fruitcake fag' were sleeping with his father. When they dined with them, he always felt tempted to jump on the table, jump up and down, point at them and scream 'Now who's the fruitcake fag!' but that would not only be hypocritical but would go against his every fiber.

Another thing to up his loserdom was the fact that he was in the AV club. Not that he liked tinkering computers nor was any good at it (as far as he was concerned, the computer was only for making cool designs in Photoshop) but he needed some kind of extracurricular activity. He failed miserably at sports and he did not need anymore locker room comments about his sexuality. Gym class freshmen and sophomore year was enough. Plus, he kind of wanted to help make the music they play over the intercom before classes to be less…not good.

That day was like any other day after school. Skittery sat in the dank, dark AV room that doubled as the school's darkroom for the photography club so it also smelled like chemicals which were probably frying his tender young mind. He stared at the illuminated computer screen, unblinking. Not like he had anything to do. He was just bored and didn't want to go home. That was when it happened. The door opened, sending in a block of light that nearly made his eyes water.

"I'm sorry if anyone's developing pictures," someone blurted out.

Skittery rubbed his eyes to rid them of purple spots. "I'm fine. I mean, no…I'm not."

Then the overhead light flicked on, causing him to turn and start rubbing his eyes furiously. He counted to five before opening his eyes.

"Sorry," the mysterious voice repeated. "I'm new. Does the photography club meet today?"

Skittery shook his head. "No. This is for the AV Club today. Not that I'm doing anything audio visual…y."

The voice laughed and Skittery got a good look at him. His jaw dropped. He never thought that someone's jaw actually dropped until he laid eyes on this boy. Soft, sincere-looking eyes were hidden behind wire-framed glasses. His face was welcoming and split into a wide smile that rivaled that of the blonde, half-blind star of the swim team who liked to pretend to touch Skittery in the locker room and make him insane. Brown hair was brushed away from his face which was blatantly Jewish but in a totally hot way.

"H-hi," he managed.

The boy stuck his hand out. "Heya. I'm Mark, uh, Goldstein. But for some reason, a soccer player started calling me Specs. Are there many kids with glasses here?"

Skittery shook his head. "Not many. It's a small school. Which soccer player was it?"

Mark shrugged. "I didn't catch his name. I don't even know if he was actually a soccer player. He was just wearing an Italia t-shirt. He was tall, uh, dirty blonde I'd guess. Looked a lot like the dude from Batman Begins, actually."

He felt his stomach knot, knowing exactly who Mark was referring to. Jack Kelly, another one who loved to touch him in the locker room and then laugh it up with his friends.

"He does that," Skittery rolled his eyes. "Gave me my nickname."

He then realized that Mark's hand was still outstretched. He took it, blushing slightly.

"Michael," he managed. "Michael Newcomb. But everyone calls me Skittery. Um, long story and all that."

Mark smile widened if that was at all possible. Their hands had been touching for at least thirty seconds now. Skittery wanted to let go but found that he couldn't. For a willowy-looking guy, Mark had a nice grip.

"So," he finally let up. "Skittery? I guess I'll see you around. Maybe I'll, I dunno, get the days confused again."

"Yeah," he said dumbly. "Definitely."

Mark smiled at him and left. Skittery blinked his eyes. Confused? Yes. Intrigued? Definitely. Turned on? Naturally.