Hello everyone! This is my first Billy Elliot fanfiction. I really enjoyed writing it and I certainly hope that you guys enjoy reading it :)

P.S in this story, Billy was 14 when he left Everington

I apologize for any misused British slang. I'm from Canada

When Billy Elliot first left Everington, Michael Caffrey felt that obligated to go alongside his best friend to the Royal Ballet School. The two were a pair. They came together. In his fight to join his friend, Michael practiced at ballet. He thought that if he got good enough, he might be able to get into the school as well. He even joined in on a couple of classes with Mrs. Wilkinson. Though, Michael was no Billy. He danced like he had two left feet. He quickly dropped the notion. Seeing all of the girls prance around in luscious tutus made him jealous anyways.

Two months after Billy's departure, Michael received a letter from him. His sister mocked him mercilessly about how, 'He had a letter from his poof boyfriend.' The teasing lit a fire inside Michael and he shouted at his sister to 'sod off'. Naturally, she ran to go tell their parents.

Michael wasn't sure what made him angry about the taunting. His sister had teased him countless times in the past, and he merely brushed it off. Perhaps it was the fact that she was talking down towards Billy, one of the only people who made Michael happy. Or maybe it was something else.

Nevertheless, Michael sped to his room, where he tore open the letter.

Michael,

London is strange. Everyone here sounds like a right sissy and speak as if they're about to have a meeting with Maggie Thatcher herself. The ballet here is much different than what Mrs. Wilkinson taught me. For one thing, the instructors here aren't afraid to maneuver your body into the right position. You should be happy to know that the food here isn't at all like I thought it would be. Pretty kush if you ask me. I miss you Michael, all the guys are such prissy little gits who haven't got a clue about what had been happening in our town. Bollocks, I wish I could give you something right now, but it seems it won't quite work out. Anyways, I better get back to dancing. I barely have any time off.

Billy

By the end of the letter, Michael was crying. Not the type of crying where one shed's a single tear and all is done. The type of crying that involved shoulder shaking and quivering. Michael missed his best friend like nothing else.

The next day, Michael decided to write back.

Hey Billy,

Everington sure is boring without you here. The people are always glum. I mean I get that losing a strike and having to go back to work sucks, but sometimes you just need to get over it. Your dad got it, though I guess he was called a scab at the time… I'm getting off topic.

How are you liking your courses? I take it you still have to attend normal classes aside from ballet like. I have Mr. Anderson for Maths this year and hate him quite a bit.

Me mum got a new dress yesterday. It's red and has sparkles running down the side. I can't wait to try it on. If only you were here to try it on with me. We could both wear matching red lipstick, and goof around like always. I miss you Billy. You really know how to be a good friend.

Michael

Michael thought about mentioning the ballet lessons he took from Mrs. Wilkinson but decided not to. It would have made him seem desperate.

Billy had always had a strange effect on Michael. He made him feel tingly in places that shouldn't be tingly. He made his voice waiver and his knees wobbly. He could never quite pinpoint why. He definitely wasn't a poof though. So what if he kissed Billy and then Billy kissed him back. It's not like he enjoyed every second of it. None like that. In fact the kisses made his stomach fill with butterflies, so that obviously meant that he didn't enjoy it.

Michael walked to the mailbox, with these thoughts floating through his head. He couldn't be a poof… Could he?

A month later, Michael walked downstairs early in the morning to find a letter for him from Billy. His heart leapt into his throat and he immediately felt awake. His eyes bugged out and his heart rate increased. Miraculously, no one in his family had opened the letter before him getting there. He grabbed the letter and once again skipped to his room. Breakfast could wait.

Michael,

I can't believe that Mr. Anderson is still teaching. I think that Tony even had him as a teacher. He must be close to the grave by now. Classes here are different than at home. We have instructors that help us individually. It's pretty unnecessary. Some of the people here are right idiots though. I'm sure they could use all the help they could get.

I am pretty sure I will die wearing the tight pants they force me to wear. Apparently my trackies are inappropriate and unprofessional. I still use them when I practice in my dorm room though. They remind me of home. I know that you hated those pants though. Maybe it's for the best. I mean, you of all people would know about fashion.

I have a question. Do you think that people just know if they're a poof? There are loads of them in my classes, and I just want an opinion from someone like me.

My roommate is quite like you in a way. He likes to put on makeup. Though I think there's more to it for him. He acts like a girl and is trying to grow his hair out. Aside from that he is a relatively nice guy. He even let me use his lipstick…

Billy

Michael nearly choked when he saw the bright red kiss mark at the bottom of the letter. He brought the paper to his chest and hugged it as if he were hugging Billy. He sniffed the edge of the letter, trying to detect any scent that still lingered from Billy. He ran his fingers along the messy penmanship and felt the tiny indentations left in the paper.

For some reason, Michael felt a strange twinge of jealousy towards Billy's roommate. How was it fair that he got to spend all of his time with Billy, and be near Billy and watch Billy change while Michael was stuck in Everington. He deserved to be roommates with Billy. He was his best friend after all.

Billy,

Well I for one have no idea why you're asking me that type of question. It's not like I'm a poof. Though, I guess if I had to say, they just realised it when they met a certain person. I'm no expert though so it's hard to say.

Me dad thinks that you're a poof though. Just because you do ballet. He says that it isn't what normal lads should do. I told him to sod off. It's pretty weird for me to have to defend you, you were always the one who defended me.

I'm pretty sure that Debbie fancy's you. She keeps on following me around and talking about you. She's quite annoying really. I don't know how you put up with her while you were still here.

Boxing started up again and me dad forced me to take it. Sometimes I quite want to kill myself when I'm there. At least last year you were there to keep me company. Sorry again for punching you that one time. Don't tell coach I said that though, he'll make me do 50 push ups.

I miss you Billy.

Michael

Michael sighed and went to close the envelope but stopped. He ran to his sister's room and picked up a pink lipstick. He spread to colour across his lips and bolted back to his room. He planted a big kiss at the bottom of his letter, creating a hot pink smooch mark. He smiled and sealed the letter. He hopped off of his bed and got changed, wanting to send the letter right away. Once dressed, he marched out of his room. He made it halfway down the hallway before being interrupted by his sister. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you think you're doing wearing my lipstick?" She demanded. Michael broke out in a cold sweat and quickly wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

"What lipstick?"

"You're a poof, aren't you?"

"No I'm not!" His sister rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, just don't ever use my stuff ever again," Michael's sister stormed past him, giving him a slight shove. Michael nodded at no one and then bolted to the toilet to wash off any remains of the lipstick.

Christmas time came faster than usual. The streets of Everington were dusted with white fluffy snowflakes and the houses were full of Christmas cheer. Michael's family hadn't gotten a tree. The damned thing cost too much money that they just didn't have. Therefore, they settled for the shrub outside their home. The family decorated the tree, but quickly went inside due to the cold weather. Sometimes it just wasn't worth it.

The post came the next week. Michael's father rifled through the mail wearing only his housecoat and a pair of tighty- whiteys. He smelled of smoke and alcohol. Michael was in the middle of eating his bowl of cereal when a letter was chucked at his face.

"I's from your poof friend," his father slurred. Michael's face lit up into a beaming smile and took the envelope to his room. He launched himself onto his bed and lay on his stomach. He quickly tore open the letter and began to read it.

Hey Michael,

Happy birthday mate! How's it being 14? Sorry I couldn't be there to celebrate with you. Your birthday is so late in the year that I didn't have the chance to before I left. I will eat some cake on your behalf though, It's a sacrifice that I'm willing to make.

Maybe you're right about the poof thing. Since that letter I had the chance to talk to some of them. They say that they just always knew though. For some reason that doesn't make sense to me… and Michael it's for a reason. I think I'm a poof too. But I've only realised recently. Although it's not like I'm fancying all the lads at school, there's just one. Maybe I'll tell you their name someday.

Billy

Michael felt like he was about to hyperventilate. He was sweating and breathing hard. The bottom of the letter held another red kiss mark. But this time, it was slightly smudged, as if someone had caught him kissing the letter. Billy was a poof? And he liked someone from his ballet school? The second thought brought a knot into Michael's stomach. He didn't know why, but the notion made him feel sick.

Hi Billy,

That guy must be a pretty big deal to catch the attention of the great Billy Elliot. I guess it makes sense though, you never really liked any other the girls from our class. Debbie even told me of the time when you said that you didn't want to see her fanny.

Does it feel different to be a poof? Have you told your friends at the Royal Ballet yet? I guess it would feel different to fancy a lad over a girl. They're different, not as calm.

Also, I see no reason for you not to tell me the name of this infamous crush of yours. It's not like I know the guy.

Does he dress well? All the top fashion designers? Sorry, I'm being nosy. It's really none of my business who you fancy. I'm just curious is all.

Michael

Michael quickly scanned the hallway to see if anyone was there. He made a beeline for his sister's room and snatched a tube of lipstick. He ran back to his room and put it on. The smooth creamy substance felt glorious against his chapped lips.

He brought the letter to his lips and gave it a kiss. He closed his eyes and sighed, still holding the paper to his mouth. Suddenly, the letter was Billy. Billy looked Michael in the eyes as their lips meshed together. His sweet flavour suffocated Michael and he brought his hands up to tangle into Billy's hair. In response, Billy groaned and wrapped his arms around Michael's back, pulling him closer. Slowly, Michael slid his tongue into Billy's mouth, their saliva mangling together.

Michael opened his eyes to find his letter a crumpled, wet mess. He would have to re-write another copy later.

It had been nearly a week since Michael's fantasy about Billy. He had thought about it countless times, trying to figure out just why he had thought about making out with his best friend. His best friend who fancied someone else. Michael wasn't a poof. He couldn't be a poof. His mum would kick him out of the house.

Maybe he just liked Billy. Just liking one guy didn't mean that Michael was a poof. Plus, Billy was pretty feminine, he was a ballet dancer for Christ sake. He had legs like a girl, long, lean and muscular. He had a face like a girl. Girl's had faces, Billy had a face. He had a bum like a girl. Taught and perky. Michael's breath caught in his throat and he coughed, walking down the street.

"I have a crush on Billy Elliot," he thought to himself. "But I am not a poof."

It had been nine months since Billy had seen his best friend Michael. Being away from his friend physically hurt. He missed him more than he probably should have.

Going to school at the Royal ballet was so different than at home. Billy had accomplished more there in one month than his twelve years in Everington. The new techniques he learned were impeccable. Billy didn't know how he survived without them.

He started meeting new people within days of his arrival. People who liked to dance, just like him. They were all friendly and encouraging of each other, but they all lacked a certain quality. They seemed fake to be blunt. People in Everington were raw, and open like a book. Here people were too perfect. They had money spilling out of their pockets, always wore big smiles and were constantly laughing. It got on Billy's nerves.

Michael wasn't like that. He smiled and laughed just the right amount. His family had earned more money than Billy's family but he never made anything of it. He also contained a real look. He wasn't a sculpture. His dark brown hair was always messy and in his eyes. His glasses were too big for his face and made his eyes look huge. His hands were too small for his growing body. These are the things that Billy loved most about Michael.

It was about six months after he left that Billy began to have dreams with Michael in them. There was one reoccurring fantasy that plagued his dreams. Him and Michael were sitting on his dorm room bed. Though it wasn't the Michael he had known before his departure, it was a more grown up Michael. A Michael who also sported a full face of makeup and a pair of sexy knickers. Billy would drag his hands over Michael's chest, making him shiver and form goose bumps. Next their lips would connect. They would make out for a while before they lay down on the bed. Billy would always be on top and hold Michael down to attack his mouth again. Michael's hand would then find their way into Billy's pants and start touching him.

Billy would wake up finding his sheets sticky with a white substance.

Michael couldn't pinpoint the time when it happened, but at some point, hair had begun growing all over his body. It grew most thickly at his armpits and groin. He hated it. It made him feel gross and overly masculine. He also found himself trying on his sister's clothing and makeup more often than not. He just loved the way that the sleek dresses accentuated his hips and the makeup made his eyes pop. He felt beautiful.

He also couldn't pinpoint when he started to touch himself to the thoughts of his best friend. He couldn't help it, his willy would get stiff and touching it felt rather good.

One day, Michael had just finished putting on a new ensemble including a hot pink ruffled skirt and a tight blue tank top when he felt the familiar stirring in his groin. He sighed as he looked in the mirror, trying to ignore it. As he applied a thick coat of black mascara, a thought flashed through his mind. What if he kissed Billy while dressed like that? Or… what if Billy touched him while he was dressed like that? The image sent a jolt through his body and he was suddenly very aware that his skirt felt tighter than before.

He slowly slid his hand down his chest, imagining it was Billy. He closed his eyes as he brought his legs up and exposed his underwear under the ruffles. He ran his hand along the bulge and gave it a squeeze. It felt wonderful. His hand snaked underneath his underpants and grabbed at his willy. He shucked his hand up and down, imaging Billy's hand instead of his own. He quickly got himself off, not wanting to be caught by his sister.

In mid July, Michael found a letter waiting for him on his bed. It had been almost two months since he received a letter from Billy, and his heart swelled.

Hi Michael,

Sorry I haven't written you in so long. We've been putting together an end of the year show and practice has been every day. I usually fall into bed the moment I get back to my room. I woke up early today to write this letter, so you better appreciate it.

I think that you may be wrong about what you know about the boy I fancy. In fact, I think you do know him. He has dark hair and wears the most fashionable clothes you could imagine. Sometimes it's weird and doesn't look all good together, but he makes it work.

I think that sometimes the school is a bit much. I lack the time to really sit down and relax. Sometimes it gets hard well, when I get hard. There's really no place to rub one off without being caught by a teacher or someone. I've gotten creative with how to hide it though. Sometimes those tight pants really try to ruin my life.

I must be going through a growth spurt right now. All of my clothes are starting to get short on me. My roommate offered to buy me some new pants, but it didn't seem right. The clothes in London are all too fancy for me. I feel like if I were to wear them, I would be scared to dirty them.

I miss you Michael.

Billy

Of course there was the customary lipstick mark at the end of the letter that tied Michael's chest and made his heartbeat go crazy. Billy was talking about wanking. Billy wanked. What did Billy wank to? Did he wank to anything? Did he wank to him? Michael bit his lip. He shouldn't be thinking those thoughts. He tried as hard as he could to block the images of Billy touching himself from his mind, but faltered, repeating the word "hot," over and over again to himself.

Michael also pondered this dark haired boy that he supposedly knew. Surely he couldn't be from Everington. He knew everyone from Everington, and Billy had never shown any interest towards any dark haired boys that dressed in top notch clothing. In fact, he could only think of two boys who dressed reasonably fashionable. Thomas Wilman and Georgie Poynter. Both lads were rather disgusting though. Their fathers were both scabs and they possessed an egotistic personality that he doubted Billy would go for.

On top of that, no one from Everington other than Billy went to the Royal Ballet school. This meant that Billy knew the boy from somewhere else. Maybe there was a party he went to where they met. Or maybe… no it couldn't be.

Hey Billy,

Well it's too bad you have nowhere to wank. It's pretty necessary if you ask me. So are you wanking to pretty boy over there? Mr. fashionable dark haired man?

Also, do you think it's possible to like only one lad and not be a poof? It's not for me, I promise, it's for Debbie. She wants to know. That pain in the arse.

Me sister got some new makeup the other day. I tried it on as soon as I got the chance. It was so beautiful that I'm going to give you a sample at the bottom of the letter. It's pretty bright though. I can imagine you making fun of it. Even more, I could imagine you looking very funny while wearing it.

Are you coming home to visit anytime during the summer? Your dad and Tony keep on getting into mindless fights, which probably wouldn't happen if you were there to stop it. I also heard that your nana re-discovered a stash of pastys she hid over a year ago. Your dad wasn't very pleased with the smell that came along with it. At least, this is what I'm hearing from my dad, who heard it from your dad.

Michael

Michael applied his sister's new neon orange lipstick and kissed the paper. He then took her black eyeliner pencil and began to outline the mark. Once he deemed it finished, he sealed the envelope and started to the toilet to wash the lipstick off himself. Unfortunately, he forgot to check whether the cost was clear. He collided head on with his sister in his rush to the toilet. Her eyes widened and she grabbed the collar of Michael's shirt.

"What did I tell you about using my makeup you little twat!" She yelled. Michael wanted to defend himself, but the words caught in his throat and he started to cry. His sister let go of his collar and her expression softened. "Hey Michael, I uh didn't mean it that much. You can stop crying now." Michael wrapped his arms around his sister and sobbed into her shoulder. "Jesus Michael, what is it?" He slowly looked up and in between sobs, managed to choke out,

"I'm a poof."

Nearly a month after Michael's confession, he had gained a dress of his own and some brand new makeup. His sister reacted fairly well to his being a poof. She even offered to take him out shopping for his own stuff. Though, sometimes she would still look down upon it and make fun of him for it. Maybe it was just because they were siblings, and that was what siblings did.

He couldn't wait to write Billy to tell him about his new possessions. He knew that Billy would be happy for him and would be excited. He accepted Michael for his love of cross dressing and whatever came along with it.

The next week another letter from Billy arrived.

Hey Michael,

I'm glad you asked about who I wank to. (not) As if I'd tell you. And as for the poof thing, I guess so. I mean you could like a lad and still like girls. If you're talking about me, that isn't the case though.

I'm not sure whether or not I'll be able to visit. Me dad says that he is trying his best to save up enough money to bring me back. Unfortunately, it's very unlikely. It's really too bad, because I would really like to see you Michael. I miss everything about you. I miss your quirks and you always telling me that I look fabulous in a dress. I definitely have the legs for it from all the ballet I've been doing.

I'm happy to hear that nana found those pastys. I'm not sure if It'd be great to be at home during the rediscovery. I should think that it would be rather mank.

In other news, a girl in my classes tried to kiss me the other day. She reminded me of Debbie. Up until then, I thought that she hated me. She never talked to me once all year. I'm not saying that I let her kiss me, but I'm also not saying that I didn't. She seemed like a nice girl and I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I'm sure that you would have done the same thing.

Billy

Billy sighed as he sealed the envelope closed. He applied a fresh coat of his roommate's lipstick and kissed the paper. This earned him a strange look from said roommate.

"You know, for a cis boy, you put on lipstick quite a bit," he mused. Billy chuckled.

"It's a thing that I have with someone back home."

"Oh really, what's his name?"

"Michael," Billy replied. At this, his roommate raised his eyebrows and his mouth hung open.

"That's Michael?" He gasped. "The Michael who you moan about during your wet dreams?" Billy's face turned bright red and he looked to the floor.

"How do you know about that?" He mumbled quietly.

"Well let's see. I sleep approximately five feet away from you and can hear everything from when you simply flip over to you basically yelling for Michael to suck you harder." Billy was at a loss for words. He had never been confronted like this about something of this topic.

"Sorry about that," was all he could think to say. He broke out into a shy smile. "Aw, sod off you wanker."

"Well clearly I wasn't the wanker, but alright I'll lay off." Billy wiped off the rest of the lipstick and walked over to the mailroom to send his letter.

Michael wasn't very surprised. He doubted that Billy would actually share his wanking experiences with him. Sometimes there were boundaries that were not to be crossed. Michael felt cross towards Billy's dad. He shouldn't but he did. All Michael wanted was to see his friend- his crush again. Billy's dad and money, or lack thereof was the only thing keeping him from seeing him again. He wondered if he would ever see him again, or if they would just communicate by letters for the rest of their lives.

Billy

You always do things like that. You put other people's feelings above yours. I'm sure you made that girl very happy. But don't get her hopes up or anything, I should think it would be pretty hard on her to hear that her boyfriend is actually a poof.

Me sister caught me with her lipstick on the other day. She decided to take me out to buy my own. Who knew that she could be so nice? I got all sorts of stuff like mascara, blusher and my very own dress.

Also Billy, there's something that I've been needing to tell you for a while now. I think I'm a poof. It took me a while to realise it, but there's just this one boy who I just can't get off of my mind.

Michael

Billy should understand. He was a poof himself. It's not like he would judge Michael for it. He at least hoped so. It would probably take him by surprise though, so there was that extra shock factor going for him.

Michael pranced about his room, shaking his hips to a cassette of Madonna's Like a Virgin. He was wearing his new dress and relished in the way it flung around his body as he moved about. He took a look at himself in the mirror. Purple straps tied around his neck, making his chest look higher up than it actually was. The hem of the dress hung just above his knees. He felt stunning, aside from the dark coating of hair that dusted his legs. Why couldn't his legs be smooth like a girl's? Surely there was a solution to this.

Later that day, when Michael took his daily shower he watched as the water dripped down his hairy legs and went down the drain. In his hand he held a body razor. He had seen his mother use it multiple times. It seemed much more intimidating now than it did when he had watched his mum use it.

Michael took a deep breath as he brought it down to his calf and shaved one big swoop up. When he looked down again, there was a pale strip with no hair. It was working. He rinsed the razor in the water and continued his actions. He switched to the other leg and did the same. It wasn't hard at all! Easy even. Perhaps it wouldn't be awful to shave a bit more. He moved the razor down to his knee cap and with one reach, shaved once more. Only this time, blood appeared once he took the razor away. His eyes widened and he instinctively put his knee under the water. It burned like fucking hell. He ripped his leg from the water and inspected the cut. It wasn't deep or anything, it just burned like Maggie Thatcher out for a walk in the middle of summer.

Nighttime came and it was time to go to sleep. Michael shimmied under the covers and reveled in the smooth feeling his legs provided. His slid them against each other and the sheets. He felt beautiful.

"Hey Billy, you have another letter from that Michael you like," teased Billy's roommate. Billy launched up from his bed and sprung to grab the letter from his roommate's hand.

"Give me that, you twat," Billy replied, reaching out to the letter.

"Oh but I think we should read it together. It would make for good roommate bonding." Billy rolled his eyes.

"No way, whatever he says he thinks he's saying to me only. Not you or anybody else."

"Fine. Have it your way." The letter was thrown onto Billy's bed, landing on top of the unmade green duvet. He quickly lept after it and opened the envelope.

While reading, Billy let out a couple chuckles.

Hey Michael

Wow, didn't see that one coming. (Note the sarcasm) You dress up in women's clothing for Christ sake, you think I didn't suspect you of being a poof? I'm glad to hear that Cassie took well to it. I know that not everyone does. You'll have to show me that dress the next time I see you, which hopefully will be soon.

I must know the boy. There's not many people in Everington to choose from. Who is it? I promise I won't judge you for who it is. Even if I think he's a bastard.

Me roommate is annoying the living hell out of me. He keeps on teasing me and making fun of me. I just wish it was you who I was rooming with. At least then we would be able to get along.

I think that my Nana's birthday is next week. Be sure to tell her Happy Birthday from me.

Billy

It hurt to know that Michael had a crush on someone else. On the other hand, Michael was a poof, just like Billy. The odds of Michael fancying him were greater than ever before, and Billy was determined to make Michael like him.

Opening the letter from Billy felt like a thousand pounds had been lifted off of his shoulders. Billy didn't judge him at all. He was free. The only awkward bit was that Billy was asking about who he liked, which coincidentally was him. He couldn't just tell Billy, he would risk ruining their friendship. Plus, Billy liked someone else and it would be inappropriate to interrupt that.

Heya Billy

No. I'm not telling who it is. That is all.

Michael

There was really no other way of saying it. Michael always was a rather blunt person.

Billy raised a brow while reading the very short letter from Michael. His friend had always shared his crushes with him; even when he had a crush on that pansy Susan Parks. Something seemed off. Maybe he should drop some hints of who he himself liked.

Well what a lovely letter Michael,

What if I shared some more about who I fancy? Would that convince you to tell me? I'm just going to say yes on your behalf.

Lets see. He can't dance for the life of him and more often than not wears a blue toque while riding his bicycle.

Did that help? I hope so. If not, then you owe me.

Billy

What was Billy on about? Why was he so curious as to who Michael liked? Also the boy who Billy described in the letter seemed awfully familiar, but still, Michael couldn't quite place him.

Hi Billy,

Fine. If you're so curious I'll give you some hints. He has short hair that's got some blond in it but's mostly brown. He doesn't live in Everington and is what you would call, "Gifted."

I'm not sure why you wanted to know so badly.

Michael.

Shite. Michael couldn't have been more obvious if he tried. Honest to god, it would be the death of him some day.

Hey Michael

How bout' we do a guessing game. If I guess correctly who you fancy then you have to tell me.

Did you grow up best friends with the lad?

Does he do ballet?

Does he live in London?

Is he originally from Everington?

Did you know that he fancy's you too?

Billy

Michael was always a sucker for sappy stuff. Either the letter could go great or it could be horrid. On the off chance that Michael didn't like Billy and it was someone else, he was dead meat.

How in the bloody hell did he figure it out? It's not like he was obvious or anything. Billy was some sort of mind reader. That must have been it. He read Michael's mind and that's how he figured out that he fancied him.

On top of the initial shock, there was a wave of giddiness that washed over him. Billy Elliot liked him back. Billy fucking Elliot had a crush on him. Never in his life would he think that a miracle boy like Billy would ever even think of Michael in that way. Michael was clumsy and weird... Billy moved liked an angel and had an aura that just drew people towards him.

Hi Billy,

Yes

Yes

Yes

Yes

No

Michael

Could this be the start of a relationship? Michael could only hope.

As always, Billy's instincts were perfect. He knew that Michael couldn't resist answering such sappy questions. It was in his nature. But what came next? Should he ask Michael to be his boyfriend? After all they did live miles away from each other. On top of that, it had been a bit over a year since the two had seen each other in person. What did that mean about seeing each other in the future?

Hi Michael,

I knew you'd answer, you poof. So what do you want to do now? Do you want to be boyfriends? I'm rather confused about what to do about it myself. I'm sure my dad and Tony wouldn't be too thrilled about it. I don't know about your parents.

Do you think that long distance could even work? The post is moving pretty slow these days. Though there is the fact that we've managed to keep in touch for over a year now. It wouldn't really be all that different from what we've been doing since I left.

On a side note, I retract my past statement about my roommate. We made up and all is okay. (Though I'd still rather have you as my roommate like)

Billy

Billy always seemed to know what to next. He was always the one to have say in the future and how it played out. For once in his life, Billy just didn't know how to handle the situation.

Reading the letter from Billy, Michael scoffed. Of course they would make it work. They had been best mates for years. It's not like they would suddenly stop writing to each other one day. Being boyfriends couldn't be that different than just friends. Sure he wouldn't be able to hug or kiss Billy… or watch him practice ballet, or touch his arms or watch him change… Maybe they needed a system.

Perhaps they could send photographs to each other. Though that would get rather pricey after a while. Or maybe, no. That wouldn't work. Michael racked his brain, but came no closer than he had been before.

Hi Billy,

Here's my idea. How about we just try it out for a while. If it doesn't work, we'll stop. It might be hard but I don't want to lose you all together.

Or, maybe we could write down what we would do to the other if they were there, just to get a sense of how the other is feeling. Like for example I would give you a hug if you were with me right now. In reality I can't but at least now you know.

I haven't told anyone about us. I'm not sure if you plan on telling your family. I won't tell my parents. I know they wouldn't approve. Maybe Cassie would, but I think I would wait a while. She found out I was a poof only two months ago. Maybe I should give her some time before I tell her that I'm dating my life long best mate.

Do you agree with any of this?

Michael

It had been settled. If Michael and Billy wanted to make their relationship work, they would have to get creative.

Hi Michael,

I would be more than happy to give it a "trial run." Writing things down instead of actually doing them would be rather lonesome, but I'd be willing to give it a try.

For example, I really want to kiss you right now. I want to just grab you by the coat and pull you in. I want to tangle my hands in your hair and make your glasses fog up. I would kiss you so hard that Maggie Thatcher would be ashamed.

How was that? Pretty good eh? That'll give you something to wank to for the next month or so.

Oh and just an answer to a previous letter… yes I did wank to pretty boy.

Billy

Wank material it definitely was. The further along Michael got in the letter, the more stiff he felt down there. He closed his eyes, imagining exactly what Billy had written down. He reached towards his willy and gave a tug. With the other hand he grabbed a pen.

Billy

How cocky of you. Literally.

Though just so you know, if you were to do that I'd run my hands up the back of your shirt. I'd feel your muscles and then kiss your neck. You would make such cute little noises as I pin you down onto the bed. You know that all you want is to not be in control for once.

Sweet dreams.

Michael.

Michael had never felt so open about his feelings before. He was sharing something so personal and intimate that it sent shivers down his spine. Something was definitely different from before.

As he lathered up his lips, preparing to pucker up to the paper, his hips jerked from the motions of his hand. Somehow he had managed to write his letter with the right hand while wanking with the left. Maybe sending the letter could wait, after all, Billy's letter was intended for Michael to have a wank to.

Michael was a tease. There was no other way to put it. He had always been a tease and always would be one. It was one of the things that Billy enjoyed so dearly of his boyfriend. He possessed the power to make him want what he couldn't have. He wanted more. More of Michael's sexual statements and more of his kind enthusiasm.

The only not so great detail of writing down what you wanted to do is that only one person got input into the situation. There's no way in hell Billy would allow Michael to render him so defenceless. Surely he would be the one to pin Michael down.

Hi Michael,

Nice one you tease.

Hmm, let's see. If you were here right now I'd rub you with my hand over your trousers. You'd call me a git, but I know you won't mean it. I could make you feel so good with only the touch of my fingers. I'd watch you grow as I touch you and watch your face pass through countless emotions.

How's nana? Tony wrote me the other day and told me she had taken ill with a flu of some sort. Be sure to tell her that I have an emergency stash of canned soup under my bed. Only if she needs it though.

Look at me, going from pleasuring you to the moon and back and then right into talking about my nana. Where are my manners? Well I guess I'll have to take them up next time I write to you.

Billy

Billy snickered as he gave his customary kiss to the letter. Served Michael right for being such a tease.

Oh he was good. What gave Billy the right to be so slick with his words? Where did he even learn it from..? Michael could only begin to wonder just what his friends were teaching him while at the Royal Ballet.

As Michael was just about to begin writing Billy back, he noticed the date on the calendar. Two years to the day. It had been exactly two years since Billy left to go to school at the Royal Ballet. It also meant that the boy's sixteenth birthday was coming up soon. It was weird that Billy was over a half a year older than him.

Hi Billy,

It's been two years you know. I really miss you. I just want to see your face again. Hopefully your family will have enough money to bring you in for winter break.

I'm going for my learner's license soon. Hopefully I can pass my knowledge test. The road signs are easy, but the finicky rules are what's going to get me.

You do things to me sometimes Billy Elliot. You have this weird effect on my body that I just can't control. When I get a letter from you, it feels like electricity. It sparks inside of me. I feel free, like I could do anything. But I can't; because if I could really do anything, I'd grind down onto you and watch as pure pleasure passes over your face. Gotcha!

Michael

Shaving was a synch now that Michael had his own razor. His dad had initially bought it for Michael, intending for him to use it on his face… but he had other ideas. Shaving to the knee was no longer good enough. He just wanted all of the dark hairs off his body. The first time he tried shaving his thighs, his hand shook so badly that he had to stop in worry of cutting himself again. Shaving his armpits was difficult since they had been left alone for so long. In the end he was forced to trim them with a pair of scissors before shaving.

The smooth feeling of freshly shaven skin was one like no other. To Michael it was one of the best in the world. It reminded him that whatever he wanted to be, he could. If he wanted to look like a girl, he could. Hell, if he wanted to become a girl, he could.

Gender identity had always been a struggle with Michael. He loved being feminine and dressing up in women's clothing, but he also loved wearing his toque and trousers. Maybe he was somewhere in between. A midpoint.

A week later, another letter from Billy arrived.

Hey Michael,

Yeah, I guess it has been two years already. It seems like only yesterday I kissed you goodbye. I'm thankful I did, I'm not sure if I would have lasted without it. You know, I'm surprised that Maggie Thatcher is still in office after all this time. I would have thought the miners would have taken her down with pitchforks by now. I still find it strange that people here actually like her as the Prime Minister.

There's a new teacher at the school this year. Her name is Ms. McKinley. From what I hear, she danced on West End for the majority of her career. Someone told me that she was in Cats at some point. I'll have to see it to believe it.

Thank you for the birthday wishes. You know, if I could get my birthday wish, you would appear in my bedroom. We'd take it a bit farther this time. I would push you back into the bed and undo your trousers. Next I would pull down your boxers and… you can guess the rest.

Cheers.

Billy

No! He couldn't guess the rest! There were many ways that story could have gone. God Billy would kill him someday out of pure cheekiness. Michael needed a good way to get back at him. But what could he do?

Hello Billy,

You know, I've realised that you have a pattern in your writing. You stop right before you get to the good parts. So let's see if you like it, shall we?

You and me are back at your place. Your roommate is out and the door is locked. Our lips are connected with you lying on top of me. My hand reaches towards your bum and gives it a firm spank. You let out a gasp, clearly surprised, but love the way it burns and tingles. I give another slap before letting my hands rest on the spot I had just hit. Next I bring them up a bit and under the waist band… and well, clearly I'm not suited to write down what comes next.

Have a good day Billy

Michael

That should teach him.

Hot. That was all Billy could think. Strangely enough, the sense of denial that he received turned him on even more. He wanted what was just out of his reach. He was also very hard. This proved as an inconvenience, seeing as though his roommate was still in the room. He couldn't very well get himself off with someone watching him. He thought about how to escape the situation and then popped off of the bed.

"I have to use the loo," he announced, already making his way out the door.

"Knock yourself out," answered his roommate, not even looking up from whatever he was doing. Billy walked down the hallway with urgency. His boner was tucked into the waistband of his pants and Michael's letter was in his pocket. He looked both ways before bolting into the loo and slamming the door shut behind him. He sighed deeply before undoing his belt buckle and bringing down the zipper to his jeans.

Looking around, Billy took in the baby blue coloured walls and decorations that looked as if they didn't belong in toilet. It wasn't the most ideal place to have a wank, but it would do. He rubbed his hand along his bulge and squeezed. In Michael's letter, he had or was about to describe fingering Billy. He had never really thought about it. He always assumed that he would be the one to finger Michael. The lad was rather feminine, though perhaps it didn't matter. However, the new fantasy of Michael being the top drove Billy wild.

Billy pulled down his jeans, followed by his underpants. It seemed like such a cliché. Masturbating over your teenage crush in a public washroom. All those times Billy had judged those silly movies with scenes like this, he was wrong. At that moment he felt raw, real and horny as fuck.

He grabbed his dick, not holding back anymore. He wanted the job done, and he wanted it now. He wanked quickly, and then began sucking on his index finger. What Michael had written in his letter about fingering Billy had given him new ideas. He had never fingered himself, but he was willing to try almost anything. After deeming his finger properly lubricated, he brought it down to his backside and held no mercy to himself as it dove straight in.

Having a wank in the public toilet was a bad idea. He had been in there for nearly twenty minutes and there was a person knocking at the door.

"Occupied," Billy managed to croak out, melting in pleasure.

"Come on man, I'm gonna' die if you don't let me in!" The voice sounded urgent.

"Can't you use another one?"

"They're all full, and you can have a wank wherever you want! I can only take a shit in so many places!" Billy's face turned bright red. Had he been too loud? What gave him away?

"Erm I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just here taking a peaceful shit when you came along and told me to get out," by this point, Billy had stopped touching himself.

"Oh please. You can't honestly think someone could wank as fast as you were and not have the sound of it travel a mere five feet," the voice paused. "I'm waiting." Billy pulled up his trousers and tucked his now soft willy into his boxers. He took a deep breath with his hand on the lock of the door. It was now or never. He swiftly undid the lock and slowly opened the door. He smiled sheepishly and looked down as he came face to face with the person behind the voice. He was tall, obviously over six feet. He had shaggy bleach blond hair that looked as if it had been cut with safety scissors. The bangs were much too short and the sides kicked out. His face told that he was around seventeen or so years.

"Well don't just stand there, let me in! I'm going to shit myself for Christ sake!" He spat as he pushed Billy out of the way and slammed the door shut behind him. Billy chuckled.

"I'm Billy." The voice groaned.

"You seriously want to talk now?"

"Well you talked to me while I was wanking, I see no difference with shitting." Billy could practically see the boy roll his eyes through the door.

"Aaron."

Hey Michael,

I made a new friend! His name his Aaron. We met at a toilet. I know, it sounds like the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

No, I don't fancy him if that's what you're thinking. Which you probably were, let's be real here Michael. As if anyone could beat you. No one has blue eyes quite like yours. Or a lanky build. Or even your dark mop of hair.

I recently got a letter from me dad. He said that he might be able to bring me in on spring holidays. I really hope he manages. I miss my nana and Tony and dad. I really miss you also Michael, maybe even the most out of everyone. You can bet your dearest that the moment I see you in person we'll be on every flat surface in the house. Sorry, broke the moment. Just having a hard without… you know. Having a wank here is risky business.

Would you mind reminding me dad to light a candle for me mum? It's her birthday tomorrow. I just don't want to have to write that letter.

Billy

Michael was ecstatic. Billy might be coming home. They would actually get to see each other for the first time in nearly two years. Did Billy look different? What if his good looks went away? Michael laughed at himself. That could never happen.

Hi Billy,

I'll be sure to remind your dad. I'm impressed you've made a friend. In the toilet no less! You always were a strange one. Well I'm sure that if you like him he must be nice.

It's great that you might be coming back. I'd wait for you even if you didn't though. Perhaps you can try to teach me some of the stuff you've learned at the Royal Ballet. I never could dance like you though. Spring's a way's away though. A couple months. The suspense would kill me in the weeks leading up to it.

Do you- or rather did you like the way I looked in makeup? I could put on something special for when you arrive. I'd have to hide from me parents though. I still haven't told them about it. I think me dad would take it okay. He does it himself after all. Although I think me mum would hit me.

Me sister bought me some new makeup the other day though. Some peach blusher and dark red lipstick. I think it makes me look rather grown up and sexy. Matched with her plaited skirt and white blouse I look like a right whore. I'm sure you would like that, wouldn't you Billy?

Michael

Sometimes Billy really hated going to school at the Royal Ballet. If they planned on teaching teenaged students, they should have reserved a proper place to have a wank in. His stupid roommate seemed to always be in the room and you couldn't wank in the toilet without everyone hearing you. Damn Michael and his slutty confessions. Now all Billy could think about was Michael wearing that skirt and dark red lipstick. His slut.

Sexually frustrated. That was the description that Billy was looking for. He needed to feel release. For Christ sake he hadn't cum for at least a month. He also needed a game plan on how to make that happen. He could wait for his roommate to go to sleep and then jack it and risk him waking up. Or he could get someone to distract him for an hour, leaving the room to himself. That one could work, and he knew just the guy to do the distracting.

The next day Billy sat across the table from Aaron, sipping a ribena.

"You've got to be fucking with me," began Aaron. "Let me get this straight. You want me to distract your roommate so you can have a wank?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Aaron gave Billy a look that said 'you absolute twat.' "Look, I'm desperate man. You of all people should know what I've had to resort to. Not everyone takes so kindly when they hear someone having a wank in the public toilet." Aaron sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You owe me big time you fucking git."

And so, the next day at six o-clock there was a knock at the door. Aaron stood at the frame as Billy's roommate answered it. He wore a distressed look on his face and his hands were soaked in orange.

"You've gotta help me man. I accidentally knocked over a can of paint onto my ballet bag and I have class in an hour. Oh god, Mrs. Atkinson is going to kill me if I get paint all over the floor.." Billy's roommate raised an eyebrow.

"Why don't you just get a new one from the shop downstairs?"

"It was my grandma's! She made it for me when I was a mere six years old and I've brought it to practice with me ever since. It's my good luck charm. Would you please, PLEASE help me clean it up?" Aaron looked close to tears. Billy was seriously impressed with the guy's acting skills. He didn't know he had it in him.

"Fine. Billy would you put my sandwich back in the mini fridge?" His roommate grumbled as he walked out the door. Billy smirked once the door was closed. Here was his shining opportunity to finally have a good wank. Should he be adventurous and try some new things or just keep it normal and be sure that it would feel good? He decided that he would figure it out as he went.

Billy quickly shucked off his clothes and brought out Michael's last letter. It had no smell that could be associated with the boy, but an essence still poured through. Michael's penmanship had gotten neater over the years, Billy noted. It looped and had quick lines that Billy found sexy even though he had no idea why.

It was time to get started. God knows how much time he actually had. He grabbed his willy and started to pump himself to the thought of Michael in his plait skirt, bending over a table. The skirt would lift up to reveal a pair of tight lace knickers barely covering his perky bum. Billy bit his lip as he brought the pace up. He wanted this to be quick and easy. His hips jerked up into his hand involuntarily as he pleasured himself. Maybe he would fuck Michael over the table. Punish him for wearing such a slutty outfit. He would pound into him and hear him moan and whimper for more. Billy squeezed his cock at the tip, his eyes rolling back into his head. Oh god.

Ten minutes later he felt his stomach muscles tighten and he came. He could get used to this. He lay on his bed for a couple minutes, regaining his breath during his post-orgasmic glow, until he heart a shout from the hall.

"Code purple!" He heard Aaron call "We've got a code purple!" Billy's eyes widened and he launched up from the bed. He tossed on his underpants and jeans at a rapid pace and started tugging his shirt over his head when the door opened. His roommate stood at the with a pissed look on his face with Aaron holding on to his ankle on the floor. He gave Billy a wink.

"Well I guess I've gotta go," he said light-heartedly, getting up from the ground. Billy's roommate looked shocked.

"The fuck man? You just spent fifteen minutes trying to get me to stay with you for some unknown reason after the bag was clean when I've got homework and now you just get up and leave?"

"Yep! Bye," Aaron called down the hallway. Billy's roommate rolled his eyes and plopped himself back onto his bed.

"What a weirdo."

Hey Michael,

Things have gotten crazy over here. We have a recital coming up soon and all of the teachers are going mad. The play is "Swan Lake." Mrs. Wilkinson described the plot to me while I was in Everington, so I was already ahead of the game. Or so I thought. Apparently people here just have random knowledge about every ballet created.

I got another letter from me dad. Between him and Tony working, they managed to save up enough money! I'm coming home over the break! I can't even believe it myself. It's been so long since I've been in Everington. I can hardly wait to see everyone again. I need to thank Mrs. Wilkinson again, even though she taught me a while ago.

Maybe when I'm home I can finally get some privacy. I've stooped to desperate measures over here to get some of that. Some privacy with you would also be nice. We could fuck in the old community centre, if it's still there that is. You could even wear one of the tutu's for old time's sake.

Oh, and in response to your makeup question… you could say that I like it.

Billy

Michael sat there in disbelief. Billy was actually coming home! In less than two months no less. He needed to prepare himself. He needed to look good. Preparing himself… he could work out. All he really needed was that candle on the dining room table and he would be home free. Looking good could take some energy. He usually just left his hair to behave at its own pleasure and had never applied makeup to please anyone else but himself. Oh. He knew just who to ask for help.

A day later, Michael sat at a coffee shop with none other than Debbie Wilkinson.

"You want me to help you put on makeup? Did I really hear that correctly?" Questioned Debbie to Michael's proposal. He was embarrassed and really just wanted her to agree and be done with it.

"Yes, I mean, you're pretty good at it. Plus it could be fun I guess," Michael mumbled, looking down.

"So you're a poof then?" Michael looked up.

"Just because I like wearing women's clothing doesn't mean that I'm a poof." Debbie raised her eyebrows. "Alright. I'm a poof. But that statement could still stand for some people."

"Fine. I'll help you with your makeup. But in return, you have to do my maths homework for a week."

"Done! And Debbie, you won't tell anyone, will you?" Michael asked. Debbie smiled.

"Not unless you wanted me to. It's not really my secret to tell." Michael relaxed.

"Thanks Debbie. You know, you're not half bad."

"Go get me a can of Ribena, Billy," ordered Aaron. In exchange for his favour, Billy agreed to be Aaron's servant for a day.

"Fine," Billy grumbled, getting off of his plush bed. The two had been sitting around in Aaron's dorm, just talking and going over choreography for Swan Lake. Right as he was about to open his mini fridge, there was a knock at the door and a letter passed through the mail slot. Billy's eyes lit up and he ran to the door.

"Post is here!" He cheered.

"Yeah, I saw that mate. Now where's my Ribena?" Billy nodded and grabbed the drink and tossed it to Aaron. He didn't even wait to get to his bed before opening a letter which had been addressed from Michael.

Hi Billy,

Nothing could make me stop smiling right now. I just can't believe that you're finally coming back. I can hardly wait to see you. I can only imagine how different you look from when you left. You probably are taller and more muscular. Sexy and beautiful.

Maybe while you're here you can spend a night at my house since our parents still think that we're just friends. It would seem normal to them. I just really want to sleep next to you.

Do you like the colours red and blue together? No reason at all, just curious.

See you soon,

Michael

Billy let out a deep sigh as he put the letter down. He had a dreamy look on his face.

"Oi, I don't think I've ever met someone as homosexual as you in my life," mused Aaron. Billy snapped back to reality.

"It's not my fault that I haven't seen him in two years and I'm finally going to in less than a month." Aaron smirked.

"Do you plan on doing it with him?" Billy nearly choked on his own saliva. The comment had really come from left field.

"Wha- that's none of your business," Billy retorted.

"Do you have any condoms?" Billy flushed red. He had somehow forgotten that detail.

"No."

"Jesus Christopher Columbus, Billy. You'd forget your head if it wasn't screwed on," Aaron reached into his bedside table and pulled out a handful. Billy stood still his mouth slightly open. His mother had used the exact same phrase as Aaron when she was still alive. He knew that it was a common phrase, but that didn't stop all the memories from rushing back.

"Billy?" Aaron chided. "Earth to Billy Elliot." Billy's eyes refocused and he was back in Aaron's dorm. He shook his head and put on a smile as he reached forward to accept the condoms.

"Thanks mate. Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Ah, I see. Well I deem you free. Thank you for being my servant. Though I can't believe that you can deal with your roommate on a daily basis. The guy's off the wall. He kept on asking me questions about how I exactly spilled the paint and such. I felt like I was being interrogated," Aaron spoke.

"I could say that you need to get to know the guy to like him, but I'd be lying. I hate the lad if you must know," Billy chuckled. Aaron stifled a laugh.

"He is a bit prissy if you ask me," Aaron finally gave in to the laughter and let out a whoop. Billy soon joined in and they spent the rest of their night giggling and just enjoying each other's company.

"Hold still you twat," Debbie ordered, holding Michael's face in her hand. She was applying a thick coat of black eyeliner to his upper lash line. "Now you don't want to pull a ton on the edge of your eye whilst doing this. Just enough that it's smooth. Now you try the other eye." Michael took the pencil from Debbie and pulled on his eye as she had shown him. It took about five minutes, but he managed to apply the liner adequately neat. Debbie held an impressed look on her face.

"Not bad. Now let's move on to your lips. They're rather chapped, so go rub some sugar on them."

"What?" Asked Michael, confused.

"You heard me, go put some sugar on your lips and rub them together. Trust me, it does wonders." Michael rolled his eyes and went into his kitchen. No one was home at the time, so he didn't have to worry about being caught with makeup on. He reached up to the top cabinet to bring out a bag of sugar. He grabbed a pinch and licked it. Next, he brought it to his lips and put it all over. It felt grainy. I kind of hurt, but the sweet flavour was okay. He mushed his lips together for about a minute and then licked the rest off. He walked over to the toilet and looked in the mirror. His lips looked incredible! They were smooth and plump. Michael smiled and admired himself until Debbie walked up behind him.

"Told you," she began. "Now what colour of lipsticks do you have?"

"Well I've got a dark red, and me sister's got a load of colours. She would be mad at me for using them though." Debbie walked up close to Michael's face and inspected it.

"I could work with dark red. Though we'll have to cut back on eyeliner then. We don't want you to look like a prostitute do we," Debbie mused, backing away from Michael. Michael shook his head and followed Debbie back into his room. She brought out a brush from a bag she had brought and swirled it on the lipstick.

"Using a brush makes it easier to apply the colour with more precision," she stated as she brushed the colour onto Michael's lips. She sat back and inspected her work.

"My goodness Michael. One could mistake you for a girl if you weren't careful," she giggled, holding out a handheld mirror for him. Michael took the shining object and took a good look at himself. His lipstick was a bit over lined, making them look bigger than they actually were and his eyes were framed with black eyeliner and brown shadow. Everything on his face looked grown up and sexy. Oh, Billy would like this. Michael smiled as he continued to look at himself in the mirror. He made faces like a model would and faces he could make whilst Billy was fucking him. Michael was only sixteen, but at the time he felt like he was twenty five. He loved it

"Alright Narcissist, that's enough. Now give me my mirror back."

Hi Michael,

I've just finished packing my bags. The coach to Durham leaves at five in the morning tomorrow. Then I have to take another bus to Everington immediately after. I should get in at around noon.

Though I guess you won't get this letter until after I'm there. Maybe I'll just take this one on to the coach with me. I'll give it to you once I get off. I'll see your face after two long years and cry. I'll kiss you with everything I've got until we can't kiss anymore. That is if our parents aren't there. That aside, that's what would do if they weren't there, which probably isn't going to happen. Though this could just be for novelty, what could have been.

I guess we'll have to be a bit on the low while I'm in town. We don't want any trouble. I still want to sleep over at your house or you at mine. I really do mean it.

Billy

Billy sealed the envelope and tossed it into his bag. It was almost eleven in the evening. If he wanted to get up at four thirty, he should probably go to sleep.

Sleeping didn't come easy that night. Butterflies flew around Billy's stomach, nervous about finally getting to go home. This might be the last time he would ever see his grandma. According to his dad's letters, her health was fading. He would make sure to drown her with affection once in Everington. He would see his dad and Tony. They would more than likely to nearly kill him with crushing hugs. Finally, he would visit with Michael. Sweet, sexy Michael. The boy who plagued Billy's thoughts and dreams; corrupted them into turning into something obscene.

Sleep finally took him at around one in the morning. He would definitely be tired the following day. Billy's alarm clock buzzed at four thirty and he bolted upright. His stomach was queasy from lack of sleep, but he didn't mind at all. Today was the day he was going home. He put on his shirt and trousers before scribbling a note for his roommate.

See you after the break

Billy

He posted the note on their shared desk and slung his bag over his shoulder. He nearly ran through the door and to the bus station nearby. He anticipated this trip like no other.

Five minutes later, a grey coach arrived and Billy put his bag in the storage area. He climbed up the stairs and went down the aisle to the seat in the very back. The back of the coach was always more fun. It took a while for everyone to board the bus and get settled, leaving Billy to his own thoughts. "What if someone found out about him and Michael? How was the actual state of the town? How had the breaking of the strike affected it?"

"Welcome everyone, my name is Ivy and I'm your bus driver today. The trip to Durham should take about six hours and fifteen minutes. From there, there will be some shuttles to take some of you's to different areas. There's a toilet at the back of the coach and we will coming around with food at around ten. Enjoy the ride," the intercom spoke. The lady was much too cheery for five in the morning. The engine roared to life and soon the coach started moving. Billy fell asleep almost immediately.

He woke up at ten to a bagel with cream cheese being held in front of his nose.

"Take the bagel, boy," a lady with red hair ordered. Billy opened his eyes and squinted in the light.

"Er, thanks miss," he said groggily, taking the bagel. He took a bite out of it and sighed. He looked out the window to see the British country side. Rolling hills and lush green trees flooded his view. England could really be beautiful at times.

The coach came to a halt an hour and fifteen minutes later and he was escorted onto a white van, which was supposed to take him to Everington. He was only ten minutes away. Ten minutes before he was home. He bounced his knees up and down excitedly. Suddenly, they passed by a sign saying, "Welcome to Everington." Billy nearly cheered out loud. The van stopped. They had arrived. Billy looked out the window, and there stood his grandma, Tony and his dad. He lunged out of the car, nearly in tears as he attacked them in a hug. He almost knocked them over with the force. Tony let out a grunt.

"I'm home," Billy mumbled into his dad's chest. Jackie Elliot wrapped his hands around his son, holding him closer.

"I missed you son." Billy inhaled his father's scent. He smelled like coal, fire and home. When they finally separated, all three of them held a shocked look on their faces.

"My goodness, you look so grown up," his grandma choked, holding her face in her hands.

"Yeah, I guess ballet really is exercise," Tony mused. Billy frowned, but Tony just smirked and held his arms out for a hug. "Come here. I missed you Billy." They all hugged for a while and caught up before heading back to their house. After dropping off his bags in his room, Billy walked downstairs.

"Is it alright if I go see Michael?" He asked his father. Jackie smiled.

"Of course, it's your vacation isn't it?" Billy gave his dad a hug before running out the door. He didn't look in top shape. But to his offense, he did just spend six hours on a bus, and he couldn't wait any longer to see Michael. He passed the old community centre and felt nostalgia run through his body, but kept on running. He finally reached Michael's house. It looked the same as when he left it. Clothes hung from washing lines outdoors and red paint peeled off of the wooden walls of the home. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door. It swung open, revealing Michael. He must have been a full foot taller than before. His body was lean and his hair was cut to perfection. Loose curls dancing about his forehead. But what really caught Billy's attention was the full face of makeup he sported. Dark red lipstick and black eyeliner. It gave an aura of sophistication. He was wearing a red skirt and a blue button up blouse. Michael looked absolutely goddam gorgeous.

"Hello Billy," he said with a smirk. "Welcome home." Michael softly pulled him into a kiss. It was more magical than anything he could ever imagine.

I tried so hard to make this a teen rated story, but I just couldn't help myself. The fluffy ending was a good place to stop, don't you think? Anyways, I had an absolute blast writing this and I hope you enjoyed! :)