The Less I Know The Better [complete]

2 ;; first assignments

"Look, those are the new kids," he heard a younger boy hiss to his friend, pointing to the two as they made their way past John and Ringo. 

"They look like right pooftas!" The other snickered, eyes flashing with an impish glee. 

John watched them go. A cold feeling of dread trickled down his spine at those words, like icy water down his neck. Why is everyone being such arseholes to them? He felt a pair of eyes bore into his shoulder, causing him to flip around to see who it was.

Brows was peering at him with an intensity alight in his eyes, the deadpan expression on his face and the harshness of his brows making him almost look like he was angry with the older boy. But, there wasn't any other indication to him being hostile; instead the boy just blinked at him once before turning away to catch up with Paul. 

"They're a weird pair o' blokes." John couldn't help but say out loud, nasal voice laced with bewilderment, Ringo nodding in agreement with a small chuckle.

Trying to brush the encounter from his mind, the sharp-nosed boy collected the rest of his books for his class, not wanting to be late to his first lesson for the second time in a row. He knew Mr Martin would start to lay on the tasks thickly this year, since it was their very last - everyone in the 12th year would be graduating. It was gonna be very hard for John since he had almost failed the previous, but he would try his best. Not that he could bring himself to care very much, anyway.

As John shut his locker and promptly locked it, he turned to see a familiar head of sleek, dark hair approaching him. Ringo noised a word of greeting, slapping the younger boy on the shoulder, Stuart returning it with a smirk.

"Aye, Stu!" John grinned at his close friend, the two sharing a hug for a moment before the three of them set off through the crowd to their destination. 

"What's up, guys? Looks like yer not late this time, Lennon! That's a first," His attractive friend quipped with a raised eyebrow. Yes, John would admit Stuart was attractive. He was one of the first men he felt attracted to - but he knew it probably wouldn't happen. Stuart was as straight as could be, despite being interested in art and music (which usually wasn't common for a boy in a place like Liverpool, filled with tough hardened men who worked on the docks). And sometimes he felt Stuart picked on kids a bit too much for his liking.

"Shut it." He just rolled his eyes. "I-" He fell silent, the words dying on his tongue as his eyes stretched wide in shock. They were passing by the locker that belonged to Paul, and there were harsh words that caught his eye. 

( warning : slurs )

Sprayed on the metal with cruel, demanding letters, which were coloured a severe ink black, were several words that caused even John's breath to hitch.

Faggot 

Fairy cunt !

Go back to yor brownie land, pansy!

Despite the crummy spelling, it still shot a bout of trepidation up the nape of his neck; those words were dreaded and feared by most, not ever wanting them directed at themselves - but, of course, it wasn't by the people who were the ones dealing them out. 

"I.." He started again, trying his absolute best to make it seem as if the words hadn't affected him. They hadn't been directed at him, thank christ, but it still set him on edge, glancing all around him with foreboding, feeling like everyone was looking at him and as if they all knew his deepest darkest secrets, his utmost desires. It always did. Being found out was the worst thing imaginable that could happen to a gay person, since it basically meant jail, and probably for life as such. A criminal. Or death.