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     "It was Bogeyman."

     William didn't reply, but watched silently as Matthews paced around that area of the library.

     "I should have known! I should've fucking known!" he yelled, swinging an arm to send half a dozen books off the shelf and onto the floor with loud thuds, each one of them causing Will to cringe.

     Quickly, the bookworm crouched down to check each one of them, biting his lip upon seeing the damage done to the pages. He gently placed the ripped papers to their places and closed the documents, stocking them and straightening up to put them back on the shelf.

     "Bruises! Not just- just bruises, but hand marks and stripes and just- how could we have been so bloody oblivious! He was always wearing them, William, always!"

     In turn, the younger man leaned against the bookshelf, hands behind his back and head tilted down guiltily. He preferred watching the carpeted floor to seeing his closest of friends struggle to keep from breaking down.

     "Why didn't he tell us, William? Why?" he sobbed, tightening the grip on his strands of hair.

     The brunet brought his finger between his lips and nibbled on it nervously, thinking things through. He has always been the one with the answers, such grave situation most certainly required his ability to remain calm and rational no matter the case.

     "Specifically, there would be two reasons I can think of." he murmured, pulling at the skin next to his nail and keeping it between his front teeth. Looking at his damaged thumb, he switched to his pointer and continued.

     "There would be the fact he'd be ashamed by it. It is, sadly, probable that he had been raised to think that what the man was doing to him was normal, and that only later on found out just how sick it actually was, which must have caused him a state of shock and embarrassment."

     Matt didn't turn around from his position, leaning against the bookshelf and gazing into distance, his tears leaking down the smooth, blank expression.

     "And another reason he never mentioned it could be that he'd enjoyed it, and didn't wish for anyone to find out."

     "Mattie-"

     "How dare you enjoy this."

     But Matthews wasn't having any of that memory. Any of that possibility.

     With a scowl creaking his face behind the wall of tears flooding his eyes, Matt paced towards William cautiously, almost menacingly. Will, in turn, backed up against the bookshelf and spit the peeled skin out of his mouth to replace it with another.

     "Please don't jump to assumptions and listen me out." the brunet spoke around the tip of his finger, gazing away from Matt, who was towering above him closer than comfortable. He could literally hear Matt's fist clenching by the pops of his knuckles, which led a cold shiver up Will's spine.

     " 'Autosuggestion', Matthews. It's a psychological technique by which, amongst other possibilities, a person can induce their body into a state of comfort despite the conditions." he rambled, trying to get him to listen by gripping the hem of his striped shirt.

     "When you have a toothache, you can convince yourself into not feeling it. When cold, you can convince yourself into feeling warmth. When... when..." he trailed off, clearing his throat. "...when perversely touched, you can... turn the pain into pleasure. Involuntarily, of course. It's just the way the human body works, it seeks comfort in any situation..."

     Matthews sucked his lips in and let them back out to sigh a shaky sob. Reaching his hand around William's, he unclenched it from his shirt and held it to his cheek, sniffling. Will wiped his friend's tears as best as he could, but they kept leaking.

     "How can you be so calm about this?" Matt asked faintly.

     The younger man offered a faint smile, not quite reaching his eyes.

     "Someone has to..."

     But just then, his voice cracked.

     Matthews slammed the door open and entered, heart twitching in fury. He didn't flinch the moment he heard the door hit the wall, nor did he shrink under the offended glare of Mr. Grimerson.

     The man was leaning against his desk while Mr. Quin was working on knotting his striped tie. The kinder principal seemed surprised more than anything, and he hesitantly tapped the other man's tie before straightening up and looking at Matt questioningly.

     "Mr. Quin, I suggest you leave." the young adult monotonously murmured, stepping in and holding the door for him.

     "Pardon you?" Mr. Grimerson spat before his cousin got to react, straightening up with an incredulous scowl.

     "Believe me, Grimerson, you'll thank me for offering him the possibility to leave."

     " 'Grimerson'? Since when are you in position to address me as such? Put an end to this act at once, Matthews!"

     Quin seemed dumbfounded for a moment, but after shaking his head, he gripped his partner's shoulder reassuringly. "It's fine, it seems like something personal, so I'll just go." he murmured hesitantly.

     Grimerson didn't watch the man as he left the room, instead keeping his glare upon Matt. After the door closed, a fog of silence settled, and Grim cut trough it with the sharp blade of his tone.

     "What is the meaning of this scene, boy?"

     The 'boy' strode towards him without a second thought, approaching him more than he had ever done, leaving just a breath distance between their noses. The principal didn't back up in the least, instead facing him daringly with an intense authority only he could pull off.

     And then Matt spoke.

     "Fuck. You."

     Grimerson would have paled at the scandalous grade of offence shoved in his face, if the feeling wasn't to have been shadowed by his utter confusion.

     Upon being so close to the man, Grim just then noticed his bloodshot eyes and tear soaked face, and it most certainly didn't help his puzzlement when the young man took a few steps back and started sobbing, hands tangling themselves in his hair.

     "Justify yourself this instant before I expel you."

     And then the orphan walked right back to him, raising a threatening finger and glaring from behind tears. "If I am to go off this ship, I'm taking you with me- right to the police station that is, you disgusting attempt of a man. You- You pervert!"

     If he hadn't had it coming before, that sure did the trick.

     The back of Grimerson's hand mercilessly slammed against his cheek with the strength of a barbarian fist. It send the younger stumbling into the bookshelf near them, the impact sending a glass off the shelf and onto the floor, against which it shattered loudly. 

     Panting in pain, Matt placed his upper arm on a board and leaned his head against it, trying to regain his senses and stop the lights before his eyes.

     "No matter the context, I will not accept such rotten accusations thrown my way! Now, for a last time I am to ask for a damned explanation, and that's only because you're an orphan I considered to have at heart."

     "I'm an orphan you have at heart, huh." Matthews huffed, shoving himself away from the bookshelf to face the man. "How about Veronique? What organ is it you had him at?"

     Now, that about put it out in the open.

     Grim's face went stone blank as he attempted digesting the idea. Even with his pitch black eyes, the man's pupils visibly dilated in shock. He slowly straightened up and stared at Matthews for the longest of moments, fingers absent-mindedly loosening the recently knotted tie.

     "Matthews... Are you possibly insinuating that I..." he shook his head. "... that someone touched pet... like that?"

     "No, I am certain that you touched- hell, violated him!"

     "Matthews, you have got to think straight. Tell me everything you know of this." the man urged, walking to the orphan and gripping his shoulders. The young adult, in turn, swatted him away and clenched his fists.

     "Don't act as if it wasn't you." he whispered, almost pleadingly.

     As much as he loathed the idea of Grimerson molesting Veronique, he much rather knew him to have done it than some filthy faceless individual amongst the cleaning/guarding staff members. Matt knew the principal was respectable and he would know his way around one's body, he couldn't say the same about some shadowy stranger.

     "I'm going to ignore the fact you even dared make such filthy assumptions about me without a second thought. Instead, let's focus on the matter itself. You must tell me exactly what this is about."

     The black haired man could only sob. "Don't...lie. It has to be you! It all links, the way you were against our intimacy, the way you'd punish him for anything, the- the pet name, you... you said he has pretty eyes?!"

     "For Einstein's sake, boy, you're loosing it! Get a hold of yourself and think a little! Think about Veronique and how I'm the only one in position to exterminate the parasite that perverted him!"

     Matt sniffled, wiped his eyes, cheeks and nose, then worked on steadying his breathing. This attitude was unlike him, that much he was aware of, but there was no way he would manage to treat the situation as any other- hell, he was currently more panicked than he had been at the airship supposedly crashing.

     Between gasps and sniffles, he managed to speak.

     "H-He always wears his stockings... I never questioned it, since it was uniform and whatnot, but fucking hell I was an ignorant turd!" he complained through clenched teeth, pressing a palm against his forehead. "I-ah, I just recently found how secretive he was about it, s-so today, when..." he sighed, and with a sniffle continued. "When he was showering, I just... God!"

     He closed his eyes, trying at all costs to forget the sight. But he needn't even describe, for Mr.Grimerson got the idea well and clear, if the way his face fell was anything to go by.

     The man bit his lip and walked to the bookshelf, gripping his bottle of wine. Seeing as Matthews earlier knocked his glass down, he had no alternative but to take a swing, all formality and class be doomed. He then gritted his teeth and tried to maintain his temper, focusing on the gentle waves of alcohol inside the bottle and trying to match his heartbeat to them.

     After he managed to collect himself, he turned around and eyed the sobbing man with a determined glare.

     "We are to catch that bastard."

     Matthews would never look at the boy's stockings the same way again, he concluded upon entering Veronique's room. Up until then, he often times fantasized about pulling them down slowly, his fingers brushing smooth, flawlessly pale skin on their way, his lips following in ghostly pecks.

     But now that he knew what was behind the material, he saw the stockings as traitors, working on the pervert's side with the task to hide the truth from world. From Matthews.

     The young adult moved his eyes away from the accessory to look at his friend. Veronique was on his mattress, the middle bed of the bunk at the left. He was leaning against William, whose arms were wrapped around him comfortingly, hand caressing his black strands.

     Matthews wiped his eyes and cheeks in attempt to look calm and assuring like Will, but was aware was failing miserably.

     William looked up with that neutral shield of his and rubbed his friend's upper arm, eyeing the principal determinedly.

     "I'm going to have to let Mr. Grimerson know of it all, Veronique. It'll be all right." he said, hugging the boy tightly.

     Veronique glued his eyes to his toes as William jumped down from the bed, motioning the principal to follow him outside. When the door closed behind them, Matt walked to the bunk and climbed the ladder before sitting down next to his friend.

     The moment William exited the room, he leaned a shoulder against the wall and hid his face behind his palms in what was his secret procedure to keep from crying. He let his shoulders shake and his face crumple, but kept all tears and sobs inside.

     It was a procedure he had used when seeing Matthews unconscious in the nurse room, and on many other occasions. Whereas everyone envied him for the ability to keep calm in any situation, he couldn't exactly do it without a few seconds of silent emotional relief.

     "William." Mr.Grimerson murmured, raising a tentative hand to console him, but he let it fall seeing as he wasn't used to interacting in such ways with people.

     It seemed he needn't even try, because just then Will swiftly turned around, hands by his sides, shoulders straight and expression smooth, calm, collected.

          He explained to the principal everything Veronique had confessed to him without hesitation, without even a cringe or flinch, his gaze glued to the man's and his words monotonous, as if he was reporting the financial state of the airship.

     And yet, he would later cry himself to sleep.

     While William explained everything, Matthews looked ahead of him as he slid Veronique's hand in his and interlocked their fingers. The boy didn't look at him for a while, just absorbing the sympathy from the hand holding his, not until he heard a sniffle.

     Upon gazing at Matthews, he noticed the dried tears on his cheeks, his bloodshot eyes and a mark on his arm from when Bogeyman sent him into the bookshelf. The man's expression was drained, his hair a mess. The sight made Veronique's heart skip a beat, and he turned towards him to run a hand through his hair.

     "Mattie, have you been..." he trailed off.

     "How could I've not been crying..." Matthews huskily asked in a lifeless tone, tired eyes moving on Veronique.

     "This is why I never wanted anyone to know..." the younger murmured. "It had stopped a while ago, and I just wished to forget it. But now I'll forever be reminded of it, by my loved ones no less."

     Matt looked at his lover- not towards his lover, but into him. He looked at everything from his point of view: the things he'd been through and the things he is currently going through. Having been touched like that, to only later realize how sick and perverted those actions were, must have been a huge impact on him. The boy chose to try and forget it, most likely unwilling to accept the graveness of it all, but now his friend, lover and guardian know.

     And so, Matthews realized that he needn't question Veronique, needn't figure who the pervert was, needn't wish for his death, but only needed to be there for his lover. And that's he would do.

     Matt embraced him to his chest and held him tightly, pecking his temple. Then he moved his lips on his and kissed him delicately. Veronique's back arched and his shoulders raised shyly, his hands gripping at the striped shirt as he let his lips follow Matt's lead like always. Their tongues occasionally brushed by another, each encounter making Veronique puff silently.

     "I'm sorry..." the young adult murmured, pecking him again. "I'm sorry I never..."

     "Nhhh..." the boy shook his head as to dismiss the subject, and ran the tips of his fingers through his lover's hair, teasing the scalp. The man sighed and brushed their lips together once again before leaning his head on Veronique's chest, feeling him breathe. It was the best experience.

     Veronique leaned down on the mattress and hugged Matt's head, who in turn let his eyes close after what felt like the longest of days...

     The darkest of days...

The one who guesses who the pervert is wins... ah...a dedication! (let's pretend it's a big deal) 

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