Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story, well so far at least.

Author's Note: This is the first fanfiction I have ever written. It is just so hard for me to keep other people's characters in character. I mean, like with my own characters it's like they're a part of me so I know exactly what they'd say or how they'd react in any situation. You know what I mean? I love writing, but, even though it's been my favorite hobby since kindergarten, I'm still learning grammar and spelling and everything. So, if you see a mistake more than once, be sure to let me know! :3 Oh, and I have no idea how to work this website so yeah. Right now I don't even know how to indent paragraphs on here.

Warning: This story will depict homosexual couples, but this chapter not so much. (that's a warning to yaoi haters and yaoi fans at the same time :3)

A Boy Named Troy

Chapter One

Gord was not pleased. Not that he was very often, but today it was more than just an improper greeting that was irritating him to no end. No, there was now a much more troublesome problem. Tad had informed him that Chad overheard Bif and Derby discussing a meeting that they wanted to hold. A meeting to which only Gord, Bif, and Derby were invited. It was the reason that he was now climbing a flight of brilliantly polished stairs rather than being groped by a certain stocky pauper.
"Hello Bif." Gord snootily greeted as he entered the conservatory. "The grapevine said that Derby would be here by four. It is now four two; where is the king?" The shorter brunette prep would only dare criticize his leader in a separate room, even if it was just a petty stab at showing his annoyance.
"You might not want to get on his bad side." Bif warned, casually running a well manicured hand through his fire hair. "He is quite displeased with the behaviors of this clique lately."
"Is that so?" Gord mumbled as he stiffly strolled to the very back of the plant filled room. He stopped at a large empty display, smirking slightly at the thought of what had happened nearly a year ago. Evidence still rotted away in his boyfriend's atrocious dorm room.
"People have been talking about you." Bif drew back his attention, obviously wanting to counsel Gord of what Derby was upset about. Their champion fighter always did have a soft spot for those in his social group.
"I am well admired."
"They are far from admiring you. Everyone seems to be caught up with your recent decision to-"
As locked as Gord could make his legs and as straight as he could get his back, it would never be a match for the much practiced stride that belonged to young master Harrington. Today was no exception. Derby's powerful strides cut Bif off mid-sentence as he came into the hothouse. Although Derby was by no means one of the taller boys at their school, his walk alone propelled him to that of Damon's height. "Hello my good ol' chaps." He gaily greeted as he stopped next to his redheaded friend. "It is fortunate that our group is still tightly bound enough to get my unspoken messages delivered." Bif nodded and Gord lowered his eyes to the ground, pressing his back against the empty oak table as far as he could. "Ah yes," Derby started, identifying where Gord cowered. "I remember that highly expensive, highly exquisite specimen that Daddy bought me. What ever did happen to that?"
They all knew, but Bif still answered. "Hopkins destroyed it."
"Out of jealousy, correct?" Derby's eyes narrowed down on his victim.
Without looking up, Gord summoned the courage to meekly reply, "I believe it was an errand."
"Pish, I never said the feeling was his own. It doesn't even really matter now anyways, it was such a long time ago. I simply meant it as a lead-in to our topic."
"I see."
Nothing was spoken for a few moments. Gord nervously fiddled with his gold watch and Derby no doubt glowered. Bif soon realized that his leader had mentally lost his place. "You have been seen messing around with Jimmy." Taken aback by this, Gord's gaze soared up in time to see Derby's eyes widen in recognition.
"That is no secret!" Shock had provided Gord with just enough bravery to raise his voice.
"But he's a male." Derby nearly whined, disliking the thought of being associated with one of those people.
Once again in the meek, Gord softly replied, "I've been out for weeks."
"Even so, Hopkins is not in the same class as ourselves."
"I'm good with that." Gord casually slipped; Hopkins really was having an impact on him. With the two stunned looks glaring at him, he quickly moved along, hoping to distract attention from horrible grammar. "I thought you liked Jimmy now."
"A person that is able to manipulate through the cliques so ably is of high exploit to us, that I must admit. But the boy himself is so… what's the word?" He turned his head slightly to Bif.
"Rough?"
"Yes, that is it! Jimmy is as coarse as sandpaper and you know the only people that need sandpaper are paupers."
"What about Lola?" Gord slowly asked.
"What about that female grease bag?"
"Both of you pressured me into being with her, and she is even further down the scale than James. Why was that right?"
"Well…" Derby seemed to be trying to pull up a memory that was so old and not about himself.
Bif helped. "That was only to bother Johnny."
Again, there was an uneasy silence. Gord could not tell if he was gaining any grounds or not. Eventually, as a few boys made their way onto the stone balcony just outside the glass doors, Derby offered for them to go sit down in his room. It was not the first time Gord had seen the inside of Harrington's private chambers. In fact, they had all spent quite an amount of time in there. His dorm was actually made out of three separate rooms. A bathroom, bedroom, and sitting room, in which many of their holiday parties began in because of the bar.

Derby's décor was not in the regal color of ruby, as one might have thought. Nor was it the blue of their much adored Aquaberry sweaters. All of the wood, including the floors, wainscoting, bar, and large circular table with eight matching chairs, was dark cherry. Much of everything else was black. There were black silk drapes that flowed to the floor, a midnight colored chaise with dark silver pillows, and coal rugs. Derby said that black was the color of royalty in other countries, but to be honest, Gord thought the place seemed like a vampire's den.

"Gord?" The proud, arrogant, powerful blonde called. "Would you like some?" He stood behind the bar, pouring scotch into two short crystal glasses. Gord knew of what great quality the liquid was, but still had to decline. It would be a shame to become loose and let anymore of the new wordings he had picked up slip. "Well then," he continued, setting the glasses on the table as he sat down with Bif and Gord. The boxer picked one up and nodded his gratitude. "To be perfectly honest, your relationship with Hopkins is the least of my concerns with you. The other rumors are what have me bothered."

"Other rumors?" This surprised Gord slightly. Out of their clique, at least until the Lola incident, he had always been somewhat ignored. If you even looked at their group yearbook photos, he was always the one on the far right, forgotten about. People bothering to talk about him at all was eyebrow raising, let alone kids saying things to call the attention of Derby and Bif.

"Yes, your other relations." the redhead replied.

"I am not sure to what you are referring." Honestly, he had no idea! Being in the closed off space, with just the two of them, it was starting to really agitate him.

"Kirby? It has been said that you two were seen after a few games. Jocks really aren't the kinds of people we should be around."

"I've barely even spoken with him before!" Most wouldn't notice the change in the volume of his voice, but to Gord it felt like he had just screamed. His head was beginning to feel hot. "I mean, Kirby is too much of a closet case for my tastes."

Bif stated another piece of their evidence. "There are also reports of you being caught running off with a foul greaser."

"Another greaser?!" Derby looked appalled; he must not have registered it in his mind from when he and Bif were discussing this earlier.

"Yeah, one by the name of Vance or something like that."

"Vance!" Sweat was beginning to line Gord's hairline and he started to fidget. "What are you talking about?" Nervously, he let out some sort of pathetic chuckle. This time he knew exactly were people had gotten this fact. They used to mess around, sometimes, back when Jimmy was with Zoe. But that was a long time ago!

The richer two preps continued to drill Gord about whether or not he had been with a list of guys. "This is not fair!" he thought angrily to himself. Derby spoke about something. "Most of this is completely made up!" Now Bif talked, but Gord was too caught up in his own rapid thoughts. "You aren't bothering any of the other man whores in our group. There are plenty of them, but they go for breasts. That's it, isn't it?!" More fake accents. "You know, people accuse you two also!"

"Gord are you even listening? You must right these wrongs! Tell the public that you have not done anything of these acts, even if it would be a lie." Derby finished off the rest of his glass's contents.

That straw broke the camel's back. Nerves were mixed with heat that seemed to swell the room along with exasperation that they had basically said his lifestyle was wrong. "Then you should also correct them." he mumbled this, but the rich had excellent hearing.

"What does that mean?" Bif questioned with hostility in his voice.

"Everyone assumes things about the two of you, just like me and apparently every male in the area."

Bif's face actually turned a shade close to his hair color, leaving only Derby able to speak. "That makes no sense." He had not lost his demeanor, not yet at least.

"Sure they do!" Gord was now actually quite loud to anyone's ears. "You changed your schedules to match each other's, at parties you always leave together, and we've all noticed that Bif stays with in your room way more than Pinky does."

The rest of their conversation was blurred from that point on. Gord only knew two things: Derby had lost face and begun to shout (his bark was far worse than anyone's bite), and he was now officially booted out of Harrington House. He had until the end of the weekend that had just started to remove his belongings.

Gord was not sure how he felt. Obvious choices were fury, distress, and regret. Yet, he calmly left the upper-class dormitory and glided past the school gates. All he wanted now was to see Jimmy.

He knew Hopkins wasn't one to stay on school grounds after the final bell, but Gord still did not expect to set sights on him so soon. Jimmy was just leaving the Yum Yum Market as Gord was taking his first steps into Old Vale. Several plastic bags of chips and liters of soda were cradled in his arms. "Hey Jim! Hey!" Gord called and jogged towards him.

Jimmy stopped and lazily turned towards him. "Oh, wha's up?"

"I do hope that you're not going to eat all of those by yourself." His stocky boyfriend rolled his eyes at that. "I had the most occurrence just now!" Jimmy began to move again, this time Gord keeping up with the slow pace.

"Yeah?"

"Yes." Gord replied brightly, noticing that they were headed towards the beach house.

"What am I supposed to do about it?"

Gord scoffed. "You're supposed to listen, that is what boyfriends do!"

"For the last time, I'm not your boyfriend."

"Of course you are." He shrugged Jimmy off. Hopkins just heaved an exasperated sigh and remained quiet until they walked up to the rotting door of Jimmy's room. Gord didn't mind that Jim always played so hard to get. The way he saw it, if Hopkins did not want to be with him, he would argue more against it. He also wouldn't do those things in private either.

Gord followed Jimmy in, complaining that he had not picked up at all since he had won the room. That is until he noticed the new addition. "Jim, what's that boy doing on our bed?"