Title: The Price of Face

Rating: For now, T, will get to M.

Warning: Suggestive Themes, swearing

Summary: Bif finds marks on Derby's neck. Derby refuses to tell him about that night. That one incident puts the whole clique into turmoil.(Bif/Derby) (Sequel to Prep Vandalized.)

Derby stood in his room, facing the full-length mirror he had. He had stripped off his auqaberry shirt and vest, standing naked from the waist up. He trailed a finger over the few small red marks on his neck. Presents from a certain Greaser. He frowned, tapping one of the bigger ones that was near his jaw.

His eyes wandered up, to his cheek. It was a dark, bluish black bruise. That had come from the merciless wooden board, the repeated slaps from Johnny. His right cheek had bursted into a palate of black and blue the day after, and there was barely any way to conceal them. There was makeup applied to reduce the serious look to it, but it reminded him of Tom Gurney and sent his blood boiling.

The bruise wouldn't fade for a while… He took a tissue from the top of his dresser, rubbing on his neck to make sure he wiped all of the makeup off of his neck.

He crumpled the tissue in his hands, turning suddenly and throwing it into the trashcan. For a week now, he had to apply concealer onto the angry looking marks, so as not to arise suspicion from the other Preps. It would be his downfall to have others see such a vulgar display of weakness on his neck. Tad would no doubt take the chance to challenge his authority over the group, and inner fighting would not be a pleasant thing right now, especially since other things were threatening them; like Hopkins, and the Greasers.

'Well, Derby thought sullenly, running a hand through his immaculate hair. 'It was either use cosmetics or pretend that popped collars were the new style of the season… which is more hideous, I really don't know…' He wrinkled his nose, regarding himself in the mirror with an air of contempt. After a few seconds of self-loathing glares, he turned away, starting to undress.

The night after the incident, Derby threw out the clothes involved. His favorite pair of underwear… it was a shame, really, but the thought of wearing something that had touched Vincent so intimately made him sick.

Just looking at the black leather belt snaked around his waist brought his thoughts back, and Derby hurried to undress, not taking the time to fold his clothes and place them in the hamper like he usually did. Everything was discarded to the ground, and he turned toward the second door that led from his expansive room, pushing it open.

Derby had the biggest room at the Harrington House, and his own personal bathroom. While it was a little too small for his tastes, and only had a shower, no bathtub, it was still not half-bad for school accommodations. Not up to Prep standards, but it would do.

The opened the glass door, stepping inside the shower and closing it behind him. He reached for the shower nozzle, turning it on and setting it so it was nearly too hot for his skin. He let out a sigh as the water streamed down, tilting his head forward slightly and closing his eyes. The glass door almost immediately started to fog from the heat.

The hot water was too much for his cut, and Derby winced in pain, his eyes snapping open as hot water ran down his head. "Bloody hell-" He turned the heat down, gingerly reaching back with the other hand to feel where the stitches were.

10. 10 stitches in his head. The wound he had suffered from the glass case was, fortunately, minor. Just a few small shards of glass had gotten into his noggin. Just a flesh wound. Still, it was one of the more painful experiences he had ever had. The fact the doctor nearly tried to shave part of his head was bad enough, but the fact that even though his hair covered it, and yet it was still faintly visible if one looked closely, was even worse.

He had a hard time explaining that. He could have explained the rest of the office, and the downstairs tables and chairs away as someone had came in after he was gone to wreck havoc. That would have been easy. Even the nasty bruise could be explained dismissively as his own carelessness at cleaning up- he had tripped in the dark, fell to the floor. Explaining a head wound, however, was not. Wounds of that nature did not happen on their own, and it took a good while before Derby managed to walk out of the Glass Jaw Boxing Club with his head held high and a scheme in his head.

"Oh, Mummy," Derby was wide-eyed, holding onto her manicured hand tightly. "It was terrible. I was cleaning up, because of that horrible maid…" (Who, coincidently, was fired right after.) "Having to stay for at such a late time… it was an ill-conceived idea, but a Harrington must do what he must. And if that means he must clean his office, so it must be done…"

His mother nodded sympathetically, promising her son free use of the credit card until he so desired.

"But, oh! It was so terrible." Derby paused dramatically. "I was just locking up the trophy cabinet, you see, after making sure everything was in order. I turn around, just in time to see one of those public school wretches swing at me with a baseball bat! I must have lost consciousness once I hit the cabinet, and that's when they came in and destroyed some things before leaving…" He sighed sadly. "I woke up with a bleeding head, cold and alone…"

Derby snorted in the shower. His mother had snapped the story up without a second question, and all of the other Preps understood. While being beaten by a Greaser was humiliating and personal, the public school children were foreign and unknown. It was a different situation; instead of bringing animosity, it brought sympathy and understanding.

He let out a long-winded sigh, pressing his face against the wall and letting the water run down his back. Once the welts were gone, this would all be a thing of the past. Just a small hiccup in his otherwise seamless life.

There were suddenly warm, dry hands pressed against his waist, and Derby panicked for a split second, irrational thoughts spilling into his head. 'It's Vincent, isn't it, Vincent's come-' And he jabbed his elbow backwards, catching the intruder in the gut.

"Derby!" The breath was forced out of Bif; he hadn't expected such a hostile welcome. Derby pulled away from his grasp, turning around. The look of cold fear quickly mellowed out into recognition.

"Ah, you should have knocked, Bif." Derby said sternly, looking the taller prep over. Tall and stocky, with auburn hair and green eyes, he could easily overcome him in a battle of fists. But Bif was his second-hand man, behind him in everything he did. Derby was the witty, smug leader; Bif was his brawn and undying support that leaders like him fed off of.

It was no wonder that they were 'friends with benefits'. It was like they needed each other to survive in the hellhole known as Bullworth.

Bif smiled gently. "I'm sorry. I didn't think; you must be a bit tense after that incident.."

Derby glared icily at him. "I think anybody would be surprised after suddenly finding another person with them in the shower, don't you agree?"

He had struck a nerve, and Bif nodded quickly, realizing his mistake. "Actually, now that you mention it," He smiled charmingly. "I would have done the same, also. I apologize."

"Apology accepted." Derby said, a bit stiffly even as Bif wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing the back of his neck. Derby reached back, grabbing the back of Bif's head and pulling him forward for a kiss. He smelt faintly like sweat. When the kiss broke, Derby reached for the washcloth.

"You were at the boxing ring?"

"Yes," He looked a little sullen. "We had that contest, you remember?"

"Mm-hmm." Derby started to soap himself up, only listening half-heartedly.

"Well, a certain someone barges in right before Parker and Chad were to have a go." Bif said, leaning against the wall of the shower and watching Derby. "It's that squinty boy, you must remember him- Gord invited him to the boxing club, after that incident where he beat Russel."

Derby shook his head, pausing in his washing. "Squinty…? Do you mean Jimmy Hopkins?"

"Correct."

"He has such horrible taste in people. First Lola, because he swore the leopard print coat may or may not be vintage Chanel, and he just had to find out… and now, inviting riff-raff into the Club!"

"Yes, yes," Bif interjected right when Derby paused for a breath. If he let him, the other would go on forever ranting about Gord and his poor behavior. "But, as I was saying, Hopkins struts into the Gym, signing up for the contest. I, of course, only watched, as our family already has three houses… but, Hopkins actually won!" Derby arched an eyebrow at him. "He beat Chad in one round, and didn't even break a sweat the entire time!"

"Interesting…" He tossed the washcloth at Bif. It hit his bare chest with a wet slap, and he nearly dropped it. "Now, you can stop talking about peasants, and actually start cleaning yourself." Bif smiled lightly, moving up behind Derby and wrapping his arms around his waist, dropping the wash cloth on the tile.

He placed a few light kisses on his neck. "Who said I came in here to get clea….n" He word trailed off, and he paused, pressing a finger against one of the marks on Derby's neck. He hissed swatting at him.

"What are you…?"

Bif looked like he had been punched in the face by Derby: shocked and a little sad. He looked his whole neck over, and he suddenly seemed to bristle a little, his expression going hard as he touched another mark. "Who…?"

Derby swatted his hand, pulling away from Bif's touches. "Pinky." He replied quickly, holding a hand to his neck. Bif would drop it at her name. He realized that she was his going to be his bride one day, and that public appearance was something he needed to upkeep. Tonguing each other every once in awhile was common.

"Five hickeys? From Pinky?" Bif asked, not sounding the least bit like he believed him. "I… I don't think even Johnny Vincent would be dull enough to believe that." He said scathingly. Pinky was different. Having to endure the swollen lips and the lipstick prints on collars was mandatory for him, just another occurrence. But hickeys? This was not the work of Pinky Gauthier. It was too un-ladylike.

Bif took a step forward, the cold still in his voice. "Who was it, Derby?"

Nothing had prepared him for the hard punch in his chest. He stumbled backwards, and he would have broken his neck if he hadn't grabbed a hold of the shower door.

Derby was truly furious. His face was livid with emotion, and it startled Bif as much as the punch had. "Get out of my shower, you prick! I am not going to be subjugated by someone like you!" He shouted, standing right up against Bif. Even if he was nearly a head shorter, Derby was incredibly intimidating, his eyes flashing. "If don't want to believe me, then that's perfectly fine, but I am not giving you another answer other then Pinky, no matter what you say or do," He pushed a finger into Bif's chest. "And if you have a problem with that, you can just leave."

Bif bit his lower lip, clinging to the door. "So… you…?"

"Pinky." Derby barked too quickly, prodding his finger into his chest again. Why was he getting so emotionally defensive over this? It was… unnerving for Bif.

"Derby, I'm sorry… I know about your situation with Pinky. I just sometimes…? Ah, you know. Forgive me?" He fibbed smoothly, giving him a small smile.

Derby did not smile back. "I don't feel like forgiving your obvious lies right now, Tremblay." He ducked under the other's arm, pushing the door open. Bif stumbled forward, watching with astonishment as Derby grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He walked into his bedroom, picking out pajamas from his closet as if the other wasn't here.

Tremblay. He had called him Tremblay.

Bif grabbed a towel, drying himself quickly and throwing on the clothes he had come with on. He walked into Derby's bedroom. His face was hidden behind an issue of GQ magazine, only his blonde hair visible.

"I'm sorry I bothered you. Goodnight… Har… Derby." His face flushed red. He couldn't do it- couldn't call him Harrington in company like this. With a flustered sigh, Bif left the room.

Yaaay Derby/Bif! I just love them. I love to think of them as friends-with-benifets, but actually one of the only true friend's Derby has. That's why when Bif got into the shower, they were so casual; just talking, washing up. They're physically attracted to each other, but they're also friends, so leaning against the shower room wall and watching the other soap himself up while talking about squinty-boy Hopkins just dosen't seem… odd. XD

Anyway, review, favorite, give me hugs and kisses, et cetera et cetera. You know the drill. Also, would anybody care to beta the next chapter for me? I need some help with Bif's speech. Just send me a message through FF if you want to help. ;D