Title: Bloody Hell. It's the Revolution All Over Again

Rating: Currently PG-13 (for language) Will rise to R

Warnings: Slash, bad language

Summary: Lindon's just moved from England to America, and he's heard the horror stories of American high school. What he doesn't expect though is a gay football jock who doesn't take no for an answer, an overly friendly going-to-be step brother and the fact that nothing is like he thought it would be. Slash.

A/N: Two things. (1) This story is not meant to be realism, but rather a version of reality with a few things skewed lol. (2) Being English myself, I have to rely on friend's knowledge of the American school system. Any help is much appreciated.

"Why?"

"Lindon we've been through this all before far too many times, and now is really not the time to be talking about it again. For God's sake this isn't easy for me either you know. It isn't as though I'm enjoying packing up everything I own, and moving to another country. I've lived here even longer than you have, and it is a wrench leaving."

"Then why do we have to? Oh come on. This is absolutely ridiculous, you can't do this to me again. Move to America. I just don't understand you. Why on earth would you just do this to me?"

The woman currently sitting on a suitcase to make it close sprang up, and the clothes went flying. She didn't notice. "Lindon be quiet. When you're eighteen you can move out if you want to, but until then I decide what's best for you. This isn't some cosmic plot to spite you. I've always wanted to live in America, and I'm lucky I got a green card. Other kids would kill for this chance." She rang her fingers through her auburn hair and sighed in frustration. Lowering her voice, she continued more calmly. "Look, I know you're upset, but we've been preparing for months. There is nothing we can do now, even if I wanted to. And I don't. It's a new start for all of us. For you, for me, for Sian and for Alice. Especially for you," and in her voice was a shadow of rebuke which I mentally flinched from.

Sighing I stared into the mirror. "I understand," I muttered in a quieter voice. "Doesn't mean I have to like it." My mother finished piling the clothes back into the suitcase, and fastened it.

"You'll love it sweetheart," she said, and hugged me.

"Don't fucking touch me," I growled, and eyes widening with perhaps a little hurt she dropped her arms.

"Have it your way," she shrugged and turned away. "But your case had better be packed, and you can help Alice look through hers. We're going out for dinner tonight." She walked down the hall, and I heard her running water in the sink. Staring into the mirror I sighed and threaded my hands through my hair. Fuck this, I told my reflection. What a stupid bitch. My reflection stared back at me, and shrugged its shoulders. I inspected myself for a moment in the light, then sighed. It wasn't that I was so short. Five foot eight at seventeen wasn't bad, I was just bloody skinny, and it made me look fragile. Slumping down I raised one hand wearily and rubbed my eyes, mentally swearing at the black marks that came off. I couldn't be bothered to repair the damage, and instead stared dully at the packed suitcase, already labelled. Trust my mother to only become organised when she was moving to a different country.

"Lindon," called my sister. "Can you give me a hand?" Pulling myself up, I walked slowly up the stairs into my smaller sister's room. Alice was thirteen, as blond as I am dark and still obsessed with horses. Slowly I helped her fold clothes into her case. Some were being shipped over, but my mother had decided to buy new stuff when they arrived so a lot had been thrown out. Alice watched me, perched on the floor holding the bear they thought she'd grown out years ago, and then suddenly she began to cry. Small sobs were drawn out of her, and I looked at her in bewilderment. Alice never cried. Sian yes, Alice no, and awkwardly I patted her shoulder hoping it wasn't a woman thing. She clung to me for a moment, then broke away.

"Sorry," she said awkwardly, and I merely shook my head wordlessly.

Our flight was at seven that evening, which left us with the whole day to finish tying up the loose ends which inevitably came from moving countries. Sian spent hours on the phone which hadn't yet been cut off, talking to one of her friends, Alice merely huddled in her room reading something, my mother finished the last minute packing, and I went out to meet one of the only friends I had.

Almost before I could believe it, it was time to go. We were in the airport, waiting in the check in, and then in the lounge. It was as though that was when it finally sunk in. We were leaving England, possibly forever, and going someplace where the only things I knew would be garnered from American films, and books. Not that they made the place sound very appetising. Especially the schools. I began to panic, and Alice thinking I was scared of flying, squeezed my hand soothingly. I smiled at her, and moved my hand away. Godammit I hated being touched. But it was only Alice, and she was only trying to be nice, so I didn't shout at her.

The plane was crowded, and since they weren't first on it wasn't possible to get seats together, something I silently thanked God for. Mum and Alice ended up sitting together, Sian was at the front, and I ended up beside a florid businessman, my only consolation that he had the aisle seat. There was nothing I hated more than squirming past someone on an aeroplane because I needed the toilet. I settled in for the long haul, putting on the headphones immediately, and beginning to watch the film in boredom. The businessman beside me shifted, and a few hours later, for lack of entertainment he began to talk. "On holiday to America then son?"

I shook my head. "We're emigrating." My voice was tired and listless even to my ears.

The man looked genuinely happy. "You're going to love it. I guess you're still young enough to go to school?" When I nodded, he continued. "Like I said it is going to be great. You like sport?"

I stared at him slightly incredulously. I was wearing eyeliner, did I look like he was going to be good at sports? I was too tired to pick a fight though, so I merely shook my head. "No, not really."

"You'll have to learn to then. We're very big on sports, big part of local life as well. We have big games, a few cheerleaders..." he talked on describing what sounded suspiciously like Hell to me, and after a time I began to feel sick. I had no doubt the man was trying to be kind, and give me some information before the terror started, but right now I wanted to curl up and wish myself home. The flight went by surprisingly fast, and practically before I knew it we were in America. It was dark outside, and my first impression was not an endearing one. The ride to the town was long, and Alice fell asleep on my shoulder. I smiled in spite of myself. My mother was driving, Sian in the seat beside her curled up. It was lucky the road was deserted, as every so often mother would forget that she was supposed to be on the right not the left side of the road, and that would necessitate a swift swerve back. It really wasn't going to be a good impression, if the first thing they got on entry to the town was a driving conviction. Perhaps it wasn't the right time to point it out though as my mother seemed increasingly frazzled.

It took us ages, and three stops at convenience stores to figure out where we were supposed to be. The house was big, bigger than their last one, and I remembered vaugely that houses were a lot cheaper in America. Inside it smelled of new wood and paint, and it was empty. Mother sounded defeated. "I forgot. The beds aren't here until tomorrow. Come on. Back in the car, we can have a look for a hotel or something. There's bound to be one open." We trooped out, but a voice hailed us.

A couple were just walking up the garden path obviously returned from a night out, some fancy dinner by the look of their clothes, and with a shock I realised it wasn't actually that late- no more than eight or nine, but the plane had messed with my sense of time. "Hello there," called the woman. She was about my mother's age, tall, blond, perfectly groomed. I could already feel my mother hunching in on herself. She hated being caught out looking so messy, especially around people like this, and she barely muttered hello.

"I'm Richard," the man introduced himself. "This is my wife Lucy." He smiled expectantly, and my mother summoned up some inner strength, and even managed to sound quite cheery.

"Lovely to meet you," she murmurred. "I'm Annette, and these are my children. Lindon, Sian and Alice. We've just arrived as you can tell." She selfconsciously tugged at her top. "We're a terrible mess I'm afraid."

"Not all," Lucy smiled at her. "Flying is awful. Come in for a drink. It'd be great to have a chat."

Annette hesitated, torn between wanting to be friendly, and just wanting to find somewhere to sleep. "I'd love to," she said at last, "but we really do need to get going. We have to find a hotel near here, as the beds haven't been delivered here yet. Could you recommend one?"

Richard laughed. "Of course not," he said jovially. "Don't be silly. We wouldn't dream of letting you go any place else. We've plenty of room if the girls don't mind bunking up together, and Lindon sharing with my son."

Annette tried to protest. "No honestly, we couldn't impose on you like that. It wouldn't be right."

Lucy cut in, her voice soothing. "We insist Annette. The only hotel near here is horrible. Now come inside."

I followed warily. Americans seemed really nice so far. The house was similar in design to the one I had already glimpsed, but fully decorated in pastels and pine. It was warm, and homely, and I could feel everyone relaxing. I caught Sian's startling green eyes, and gave her a small smile of solidarity. She smiled back palely, and they all sat down. Within moments the three adults had a drink, and though I'd been offered one I refused going for Coke instead like my sisters. Richard and Lucy seemed to have a gift for making people feel welcomed, and conversation was steady. It appeared they had two children, a boy my age, and a girl Sian's, a coincidence which was expounded on by the adults.

After a while, Lucy noticed Alice yawning, and stood up. "Come on," she smiled to Alice. For some reason people have a tendancy to treat Alice as being younger than thirteen. It's something to do with the blond hair, and smallness, and she doesn't really help it. As far as she sees it, people treating her as a child, means they are less likely to blame her for things. She glanced at me and Sian. "What about you two? Would you

like to wait until Chris and Elsie get back, or head up now?"

Sian shot me a panicked look which I heartily concurred with. The last thing I could face was more people. "It would be great if we could head up," I said politely, "and thanks again for everything."

She smiled at me. "It's nothing." She showed Sian and Alice their room first, and mumuring good nights they went in. Then walking along a passageway she showed me 'Chris's' room. There were sports trophies, clothes all over the floor and a double bed shoved against one wall. "Are you sure Chris won't mind?" I asked her awkwardly.

"Anything but," she laughed. "As long as you don't hog the covers you'll be fine. I'll leave some towels outside the door, and in the morning you can have a shower. Goodnight sweetie." She left, shutting the door. I cast my mind back to those few films I'd watched about American children. They called themselves kids I seemed to remember. And people who were good at sports were 'jocks' and beat up smart people who were 'geeks.' or 'goths.' Judging by the decorations Chris was a jock, and I appeared to be both a geek and what could loosely be termed a goth. I sat on the bed with a sigh, then realised just how tired I really was. I felt little selfconsciousness stripping down to boxers and a t-shirt. It wasn't like we weren't both guys. Though.. and I flinched away from the next thought. With any luck he'd be pug ugly.

I got in the bed, and wriggled over to the wall, curling up, eyes closing automatically. Some time later, I had no idea when as my sense of time was completely knocked, someone switched on the light, I stirred, and heard a muffled swearword, and the light went off, a heavy weight hitting the bed. The most I could see was light hair. He scrambled under the blankets, rather closer than I had expected. But just moments later I fell asleep again. I don't know what woke me the next morning- usually I'd probably have slept through the day. It was some sort of click. Blinking in confusion I looked around, disorientated for a moment. Not only was the room not mine, but the arm round my waist, and head tucked into my shoulder was not mine either. I had a brief moment of panic, then relaxed. He was obviously an inveterate cuddler. He turned a little and I saw light blond hair, and a handsome face. I remembered what Lucy had said about towels, and tried to wriggle out, but his arm was bloody strong. Finally I pushed him, and he opened eyes that were deep green, and very confused. Fuck it. Why is it that straight sportsman are always the hottest? I squashed that thought as well. "Sorry," I said quietly. "Uh can you let go of me?"

He ignored my question, and looked me up and down. He still hadn't let go. I was a mess- I hadn't taken off any of my tastefully subdued makeup last night and it was showing, my hair was in a thousand directions and I was still tired. So I really wasn't expecting what he said next. "You're pretty."

I stared at him, and shook my head. "You must still be drunk." I grabbed the towels and headed for the shower. Mum was always up early and she had seen fit to get me some clothes from my suitcase, and leave them beside the towels for which I thanked her. The others had seen about thirty six hours of wear. The shower was great, and just what I needed. I hesitated for a moment over using their stuff but decided there was no way I was getting clean otherwise. So I used some strawberry shower gel and appleblossom shampoo, prompting the thought what sort of guy kept that shampoo in his bathroom? As I was rinsing my hair, I heard someone come into the room. Luckily the shower was of frosted glass up to the neck, and I could dimly see Chris brushing his teeth at the basin. I rolled my eyes. Weirdo. When he left, I got out and rubbed myself down briskly, and put in the clothes Mum had got me. Black jeans obviously, socks, I had my boots and jackets already, and a plain black t-shirt. Obviously she didn't want me shocking the neighbours too early. I smiled, and rubbed my hair dry as best I could, and left it without gel. Then carefully I removed the essentials from my pockets.

Working as swiftly as I could, I drew black eyeliner around the lids of my eyes, not too thick but definitly noticable, then mascara, and dusted silver. I'd pity Mum, and leave the lips for today. Then I reattached the two or three earrings I had with me, two studs and a tiny silver skull. I ignored the audible gasp I heard when I walked into the room, and gathered up my clothes from last night. Then I actually looked at him. Was he actually checking me out? I shook my head. I was delusional. "I bet chicks find that English accent sexy."

I fought the urge to roll my eyeballs again. "I'm from England. We all have English accents, it's not exactly a sex aid."

He shrugged. "Oh I don't know," and he gave me a wink that could almost be termed lecherous. I moved to the door, and on instinct glanced back. He was staring at my arse. I was officially scared. I heard him follow me down the stairs, and brush past me into the kitchen. His sister and Sian were there, and they looked fairly friendly. I haven't actually described Sian yet, or Alice. Sian is sixteen, and we're a bit alike. Totally different colouring- she has blond hair like Alice's and light green eyes, while I'm naturally black haired and grey eyed. Oh fuck it I'm lying. I actually have the same blond hair (guess which gene was dominant) but I died it black two years ago, and haven't stopped. It's part of me now. I'd say my image but I don't have one. The grey eyes are mine though. I wear contacts, glasses if I run out. Sian is strange. She's not the worst sister I guess, we tend to cover each other's backs a lot, but for the last two years or so we have barely been able to speak without fighting. We have our own eclectic styles, and they clash a bit.

Alice on the other hand is the baby of the family, and everyone loves her best me included. She's thirteen but she acts younger I suppose. I really don't know how she's going to cope with a new school on top of everything else. The place is open in about three days, Mum was really cutting it fine with the enrolment. And there is a uniform. Can you imagine it, we end up in probably the only place in America which still has uniforms.

Chris's sister looks nice, she gives me a shy smile and a wave. Brunette, blue eyes, looks nothing like Chris. I smile back, and go to find Mum. She greets me, and I ask what's going on. Apparantly we have the rental car for a week, which gives us enough time to buy a car. The beds are going to be delivered, and some of the furniture we brought across with us is arriving. At that point Lucy comes out of the house. "Would you like Chris to show Lindon around town?" she asks. "Elsie will take Sian and Alice." My mother wavers.

"If you are sure it's no trouble.."

Lucy favours her with a brilliant smile. "No trouble at all I promise." As it happens Alice chooses to stay with Mum, but the rest of us are dropped off in the centre by Richard. Elsie takes Sian's arm and they wander away in the direction of the clothes shops lining the main street, and I stare at Chris. He smiles back benignly.

"What would you like to do then?" he asks politely, but with an evil smirk hiding somewhere on his face. I can just feel it.

I act just as polite. "Whatever you want to do?"

"Why that would be you?"

I looked at him, and he smiled. "Just kidding!" and he held his hands up as though to prove his innocence. The rest of the day was like that, he kept saying this weird innuendo laden things, as though he'd somehow sensed that at the very least I was bisexual. I have the slightest bit of a paranoid streak, and all I could think about was how he was obviously trying to ruin my life before I even started school. The last thing I needed was to be called faggot on my first day, so I ignored his overtures, and even eyed up some women even though it went against most of my principles. Damn. If this was my next door neighbour- Mr All-Round Sportsman and jock, it looked like what little sex life I had would be taking a downturn.

Unfortunately that was only the beginning.