Don't remember what inspired this but it wasn't made to be angst, it was made to be fluff. I'm so backwards lately ... This is MxM fiction and has one part with non-explicit sex in it.

Anyway, enjoy!

"Would you believe a Band Aid brought us here?"
~Ron Hart

The sun was warm and the sky was clear and shining down on the figure that sat on the pavement, knees drawn up to his chest. Lanky arms wound around skinned knees and pressed them further into a narrow, heaving chest so that he may bury his tear-stained face within them.

The bark of the tree was rough against his back through the thin fabric of his shirt, but he paid it no mind. In the distance he could hear the shouting of his mother as she looked for him, but he ignored it in favour or pressing further into his hiding spot.

"Whatcha doing here?" A voice asked him suddenly, shocking him out of his knees so that he could come face to face with shockingly brilliant gray eyes. "Why are you crying? Did your mom leave you here?"

Slowly, the crying boy shook his head and sniffled, trying to frantically rub the tears away from his eyes. "I ... I tripped, i-is all. I don't need h-help, so go away now." Unable to wipe the tears away, he crossed his arms across his chest and pouted.

The gray-eyed boy brightened and reached his muddy hands into his pocket, pulling out a band-aid. He held it out for the other boy to take. "Here! My mom always gives me one when I hurt myself! It'll make you feel better."

The smaller boy shook his head stubbornly, and when the band-aid was forced into his hand, he just threw it at the other boy, burying his face in his knees once again. There was a sigh before he looked up again, thinking that the other had left, but was surprised to feel the band-aid being smoothed over his throbbing knee.

"There! Now tell me your name. Mine's Ryan!" the boy, Ryan, exclaimed, gesturing to himself proudly with his thumb. "Now tell me yours!"

"I don't wanna!" the smaller boy said, scowling at Ryan and quickly crawling out from his hiding spot, only to be scooped up by his mother and embraced tightly.

"Will! Oh, William, what have I told you about leaving without telling me? Come on, we have to get home now." He was set down gently on his feet and approached by Ryan. The smug look on the bigger boy's face made him scowl even more.

"William, huh? I'll be sure to remember that." William did not respond, just stuck out his tongue and ran after his mother, clutching at her skirts.


William was at the park the next day, where he had been yesterday, when he met Ryan. The small boy had a sketchbook propped open on his non-injured knee. He was humming so loudly and off-key to himself that he failed to hear the footsteps that were approaching him on the dirt littered with dead and dying leaves.

"You're here again!" Ryan shouted, running up to where William was sitting and embracing him firmly. "I wanted to see you again. You never told me why you were crying yesterday."

"Because I fell," William answered swiftly, pushing the other kid away from him. "I told you that yesterday, actually. Now what do you want, because I'm really busy right now." William held up his sketchbook to prove his point.

"You don't seem like the type to cry because you fell." Ryan said, his grin slipping slightly. "Tell me, and I'll give you another band-aid to make you feel better!"

"Idiot! I don't need a band-aid! Go away!" William said, scrambling to his feet and running back to his mother, hiding behind her skirts and glaring at the other boy who just stared after him.


"William!" The name was shouted halfway across the field, making the addressed boy curse and hide his face in his hands. "Will, come here a minute!"

"I don't want to. Go away, Ryan," he said on sigh, turning and trying to go back into the classroom before the bell was to ring. Before he could, his elbow was grabbed and he was swiftly dragged up the hill and into the small grove of trees. "Okay fine! What do you want?"

"Here," Ryan said, holding out a band-aid to the other boy, who looked at it suspiciously for a minute before taking it in his hand.

"I'm not bleeding, am I?" William asked curiously, gaze alternating between the band-aid and the other boy, who shook his head slowly. "You're not bleeding, are you?" Again, Ryan just shook his head, smile on his face. "Then why do I need a band-aid?"

Ryan reddened slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. "Y-you looked kind of down lately, so I figured that I'd give you a band-aid because band-aids make everything better ... If you don't want it, I'll have it back and give it to my cat or something."

Quickly, William shoved the band-aid into his pocket, turned tail and started running away, leaving a softly smiling Ryan behind him.


"Ready for grade twelve?" Ryan asked, lounging on William's bed as the smaller boy worked in his sketchbook on the floor. "Are you scared at all?"

William barely glanced up from his paper. "Ready? I wouldn't say that, but no, I'm not scared. Why? Are you?" he asked, still not sparing an upwards glance. Ryan was silent, staring out the open window, watching the light breeze play with the curtains. "Ryan?"

"Why do you always do that?" Ryan asked suddenly, turning his head and staring at William from the corner of his eye. "Why do you always fake a smile when you're around me? Why can't you tell me what's wrong?"

"What are you talking about, Ryan? Who's faking a smile?" William sounded confused and more than a little annoyed, putting away his sketchbook and sitting up on his knees.

"You! Every time I see you, you're off in your own little world, and every time I drag you back into reality, you have this sad look on your face, like someone just died!" Ryan said loudly, gesturing wildly with his hands as if that would help him make his point clearer.

"Don't be stupid; no one's faking anything, no one died and I am not sad. Just let it drop, okay?" William reassured him absently, going back to his sketching with an air of dismissal.

Ryan threw a pillow at him and William's hand slipped across the page in his surprise, resulting in a rather large paper cut. William sighed and put away the book again and standing up. "Where are you going?" Ryan asked, scrambling to his feet after the younger boy.

"To get a band-aid. I got a paper cut," William answered, going into the bathroom and coming back with a band-aid clutched firmly in his hand.

"Can I put it on for you? Like when we first met!" Ryan asked excitedly, jumping around William, who consented reluctantly and held out the band-aid. Ryan took it and opened it, placing it on the table as he took the injured hand in both of his.

"What are you-?" William started, but the rest of the words were lost as Ryan's lips ghosted softly over the cut, pink tongue poking out to lick away the blood. William's breath hitched in his throat and he pulled his hand away, placing the band-aid on the cut and tucking his hands behind his back quickly.


The first day of grade twelve Ryan did not give William a band-aid when he found him in the hallway as a quivering ball of nervousness. Instead he gathered the frightened boy into his arms and calmed the shaking with a gently kiss.

William just stared at him with a small, sad smile on his face and stole another kiss in silence. He grinned and just as Ryan was about to say something, William took a large, square band-aid out of his pocket.

Ryan looked at the band-aid questioningly and opened his mouth to say something when he suddenly found his lips sealed. He glared at William, reaching up to tug it off when his hand was captured by William's, their fingers twining together.

"A band-aid," William explained with a brighter grin. "To make me feel better."


William's toes curled into the bed as he took the other boy in, gasping and panting and moaning out incoherent obsceneties. His hands scrabbled at the broad, tanned back above him as the fireworks outside mirrored the ones that flared behind his lids every time he closed his eyes.

He arched into warm hands that ghosted down his sides, over his hips and across his thighs, gripping him with a force to leave bruises. His mouth spilled words, pleas, orders, faster, harder, oh God, Ryan ...!

It was over too quickly, and soon enough he was pillowed on Ryan's chest, wary kisses lavised on his shoulder and neck. "Are you okay? It didn't hurt, did it?"

William smiled softly and let out a sigh to tickle across Ryan's collar bone. "Not too bad. Nothing that won't go away after a few hours of rest," he assured him gently, carding his fingers through sweat-dampened hair before intertwining them with Ryan's.

"Do you need a band-aid?" Ryan asked, half joking half serious, as if he couldn't decide if this whole thing was some kind of inside joke or something more.

"I'd love one, but not right now. Just stay here for now ..." William whispered softly, closing his eyes and drifting off into a restful slumber.


First day of the last week of high school, Ryan was waiting patiently for William to show up at the bus stop so that they could walk to school together.

He waited patiently, pacing and worrying his bottom lip until it was five minutes before the bell was to ring and he trotted to the school by himself. On the way home he passed by William's house to see that the upstairs window had no light in it and the curtains were drawn, which was odd because now was the time that William would do his homework by the light of the lamp.

He didn't think much of it, but when the entire week went by with no sign of William, he began to grow worried. He sat at his kitchen table, eating something that he found in the cupboards when his mother walked in and told him to get in the car.

"Where are we going so suddenly?" he asked, not expecting and not getting an answer. His mother just stared at the road ahead, face sober and lips pursed tightly as if she were trying not to cry.

She dropped him off at the hospital and told him to go find William. As his name left his mother's lips, Ryan panicked and tore into the hospital, asking for the room number and bolting up the stairs and through the appropriate door before any questions could be asked.

William was sitting in the bed, thin and guant and looking so tiny in the hospital gown that donned his form. "Why didn't you tell me that you were sick?" Ryan demanded, sitting down in the chair at the foot of the bed. William turned to him and shrugged his shoulders helplessly with a small smile.

"Never came up. Besides, they always told me that I'd get better eventually." He let out a hollow laugh which dissolved into a fit of violent coughing. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Ryan said, moving to sit on the bed, gathering William gently into his arms and kissing the top of his head as tears threatened his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? Why? How long?"

Ignoring the other questions, William sighed softly against his chest, "Since before I met you. It only resurfaced recently. It only got really bad on Monday."

"You'll get better, yes?" Ryan asked, and William bit his lip, looking helpless and lost for a second before he shook his head, pulling away from Ryan and letting a sob escape his lips. "Yes, you will! You have to get better! You have to!"

"They said chances are I won't ..." William said, not fighting the tears that slid down his cheeks. Ryan pulled the smaller boy to him, letting him cling to his shirt and cry until his mother came to pick him up because visiting hours were almost over.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Ryan said firmly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a band-aid, placing it firmly in William's hand. "So you'll feel better," he explained.

A smile crossed William's lips and he wiped the tears that just wouldn't stop. "Silly Ryan," he said, choking on the sounds and stumbling over the syllables. "A band-aid won't fix anything this time."


I got bored, what can I say. Now band-aids shall make me sad whenever I have to wear one because I have issues that way.

Now, please Read and Review so that I now if I succeeded with whatever I was trying to do with this story. Please?