This was a fill that I did for Ladybeemer on Tumblr! Again, I know I should work on my other stories... But this idea was too cute! So I hope you guys enjoy it! :D

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Matthew gave a sigh as he fished for the book at the bottom of his locker, already feeling his backpack becoming too heavy with his work load. While being smart meant that he got good grades and had a good reputation with teachers, it also meant that he got into the higher classes that asked for more work. His back often ached from the weight of his books, but he knew that he had to suffer through it—getting into a good university was worth all the aches and pains.

As he finally pulled out the last book he needed, he was distracted as he heard a commotion down the hall from him. Discreetly, he peered over towards them, letting his hair fall in front of his face to try and hide that he was looking their direction.

At the end of the hall stood Francis Bonnefoy. Matthew always saw him around, but he had only ever talked to him once when Francis had accidentally bumped into him—which was something that happened more often than Matthew would like to admit. While he had almost never spoken to him, he was always hearing horrible things about him. Rumors had been flying through the school about him. There was one story that he had sexually assaulted someone, but had gotten away with it because he was so popular. Another rumor was that he had had sex with half the school; with both girls and guys. Then there were theories about him being a drug addict. Matthew had heard even more stories, but he couldn't even remember all of them. The world had not given a single good word to Francis.

Before Francis stood Arthur Kirkland, who was class president. Arthur was one of the smartest students in the entire school; at the same rank as Matthew. However, though he was great when it came to smarts, he was not known for his people skills. And it was often heard that he would starts fights—he even started a fist fight once. Everyone knew that Arthur hated a lot of people; but above all the rest, Arthur absolutely despised Francis. No one was quite sure what had happened to cause this tension between them. All that they knew was that no one could ever change it. They had tried before, but it only ended in fights.

It seemed, from what Matthew could see from his position, that Arthur had walked up to Francis. While Francis seemed to remain cool about it, it was obvious that Arthur was ready to snap him in half. As Arthur continued on with whatever he was saying, Francis remained calm throughout, only making Arthur more irritated. It seemed almost as if Arthur was going to give up, so Matthew quickly returned his attention to his locker.

However, only seconds after, it seemed that Arthur had had enough. "Don't lie to me, you stupid whore!" he yelled, making the whole hall around them stop in their tracks. "You damn liar, tell me the truth!"

"I am, Arthur dearest," Francis answered, his face calm, though his voice was beginning to sound tense. "Please, why do you think it was me of all people?"

"Because it's you!" Arthur hissed, his fists clenching tightly at his sides. "There's no other alternative! It has to be you!"

Francis offered him an amused look, his eyes growing darker than Matthew had ever seen them. "You think that because your stupid boyfriend broke up with you is because I made him?"

Matthew dropped his book in shock, his face turning red as he felt eyes fall on him from his slipup. He knew that Arthur had been dating his cousin, Alfred Jones, for a while now. However, seeing as Alfred next to never noticed his existence—much like the rest of the world—Matthew hadn't heard anything about their relationship. This was the first time he had heard about it.

Arthur looked like he was about break his neck as his face turned red. "You probably corrupted him," Arthur growled, slowly stepping closer to Francis. "You bloody forced him. Alfred wouldn't just cheat on me!"

"But he did," Francis said matter-of-factly, standing firmly with his arms crossed across his chest. "And not with me either." Francis gave a sudden smirk, looking dangerous. "But if you need a reason, how about you look at your attitude and maybe—"

He wasn't able to finish his thought before Arthur's hand slapped across his face. Matthew gasped, a hand flying to his mouth to try and stifle it. He had never seen someone get slapped before. He had thought that that was going to be Francis' snapping point, but he just stood there, remaining calm. Arthur just glared at him, his face beet red. "Don't ever talk to me again, French whore." At that, he finally stalked off, leaving Francis to stand in the hall alone.

Matthew stood still for a moment, dazed by what had just happened. Feeling rude, he quickly focused on his locker, hoping that he wouldn't get involved in what had happened. But curiosity got the best of him, and he turned his head again to see where Francis was. He looked just in time to see the bathroom door swinging closed behind him.

I should leave him alone, Matthew thought to himself, zipping up his bag as he finally got all of his things together. He knew that, after something like that, he'd want to just be left to himself. But as he thought about it, it gnawed at his stomach, making him feel sick.

Against his better judgment, he set his backpack back in his locker. Taking a deep breath, he turned to the bathroom and began walking.

He also knew from personal experience that sometimes being alone as worse than being surrounded.

Edging the door open, Matthew slowly crept in, trying to keep silent as to not startle him. At first, the bathroom was quiet, besides a few dripping noises from the sinks. If Matthew hadn't known better, he would have thought the room was empty. But he felt his stomach churn as a sudden gasp came from a stall, the sound echoing on the walls. He stood still, growing more and more nervous as the gasp evolved into sobs, the terrible sounds assaulting Matthew on all sides. He gripped his arms, trying to control his trembling. This had been a bad idea. How was he going to be able to help him? He barely even knew him.

"F-Francis?" His name left his lips before he could help it, and he felt terrible as he heard Francis grow suddenly silent. Matthew stood still, clenching his arms tightly to stop himself from shaking. He heard the stall door unlock, and watched as it opened only a few inches, revealing a flushed face with dark blue eyes. Matthew felt himself grow even more nervous as Francis stared at him, looking confused by his presence.

"Yes?" he choked, his fingers shaking on the door. Every time Matthew had ever seen Francis, he had always been charming, handsome, and very collected. Never before had he seen him in such a state as this; so vulnerable.

Matthew swallowed back worry, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. "I, I'm sorry," he muttered, trying to make his voice audible through his concern. "I… I just saw you with Arthur and…. I, I was worried."

Francis stared at him, looking absolutely confused by Matthew's concerned. "A-ah, my name's Matthew," he added quickly, clenching his arms tighter. "M-Matthew Williams."

For a few moments, Francis remained silent, staring at him with a curious look that made Matthew nervous. He let go of his arms to hold his hands together instead, twining his fingers nervously. "Eh, I, I can leave," he said, looking down at the floor ashamedly. "I, I mean, you don't know me at all and I'm be-being rude. So, I…" He quickly turned, feeling his face flush in embarrassment. "I'll just go now. Sorry."

He got halfway to the door, but couldn't go any further as he heard the creak of the stall door and a hand wind in the back of his shirt. "Wait."

Slowly, Matthew turned to look behind him, hardly able to believe that Francis was telling him to stay. His face confused before, now he looked almost desperate. It wasn't a look that Matthew liked to see on his face. He always looked so much better when he was smiling.

Francis removed his hand from his shirt, dropping it to hang at his side. "You didn't have to," Francis murmured, looking down at the floor. "I know that many people do not care for me. I do not need you to pity me."

"It's not pity," Matthew said, eying him carefully. "It's genuine concern." He paused, looking off to the side as he bit his lip nervously. "I mean… you seem like a nice person. You didn't deserve that."

The room went quiet once again, Matthew getting worried that he had said something wrong. He glanced up just in time to find Francis wrapping his arms around him. He jumped and froze in place, unsure of what to do. No one ever paid attention to him; he didn't know how to respond to something like this. Francis had his face against his shoulder and Matthew could feel more of his tears soaking into his shirt. Unsure of what else to do, Matthew carefully placed a hand on his back, rubbing it in small circles. "I, I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," Francis murmured against his shoulder, holding him a bit closer. "You… you are the first person who has told me that in a very long time."

Francis always seemed so happy, so carefree, so above the normal problems of life. But as he cried in his shoulder now, it really hit Matthew for the first time that Francis was like him; that he was just another person who had his own problems. Matthew continued to rub his back comfortingly, just letting him spill his tears. "None of it's true," he whispered, more to himself than anyone else "is it?"

Giving a sniffle, Francis removed his arms from around Matthew, retreating as he wiped his eyes. "No," he said, his voice raspy from his tears. "None of it. I… I do tend to be too… open with my feelings." His eyes dry, he turned his view to the mirror now, eying his face. "But… I've never done anything like they've claimed. I…" He paused, his fingers grazing over the definitive handprint on his face. "Well, I've never even slept with anyone." He gave a melancholic chuckle, letting his hand fall to his side once more. "Can you believe that?"

"Yes."

Francis turned his head to him, his expression unreadable. There were so many mixed on his face—confusion, disbelief, sadness… and, puzzling enough, hopefulness. For the first time, Francis offered a smile. "Matthew," he said, making tingles run up the Canadian's spine as he heard his name in his voice. "You are truly something amazing."

Matthew felt his face turn red, turning his face to try and hide his blush. "Oh, no, not really," he muttered, clutching his hands together. "I'm not anything special. I'm just—"

"My name is Francis."

Startled, Matthew turned his head to find Francis' hand extended towards him. For a moment, he just stared at it, bewildered that it was there in the first place. Then, realizing that he was being rude, he quickly put his hand in his and shook it. "A-ah, Francis! Yes, nice to—" He never got to finish his sentence as Francis brought his hand up to his lips. Matthew thought he had been blushing before; now he felt like his face might explode.

"If you do not mind," Francis mused, letting Matthew's hand return to his side, "I would not mind getting to know you, my dearest Matthew."

For a moment, Matthew couldn't even manage to breathe as he couldn't take his eyes away from his face. Though his face was still pink, and his eyes puffy from tears, Francis was still one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

Matthew took a needed breath, and returned the smile nervously. "Okay."

Francis smiled, making Matthew's heart take a few flips. "Thank you," he said, his smile being one of the most sincere Matthew had ever seen.

"For what?" Matthew asked, honestly unsure of how he could ever be able to help anyone; unsure of how he could help such a beautiful person as Francis.

Francis simply grazed Matthew's hand with his own. "For being the only one to believe me."

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Thanks for reading, and please review! :D