Breaking Through Limits (Larry Stylinson)

Chapter 1 - Part 2

He saw Gaius' head whip to the right and a frown crease his freckled face. A group of cadets in tight black jumpsuits and haircuts so short they were almost bald was coming down the hallway from the barracks. Or rather, backing down it. Because even though they were shouting threats and insults, Harry could still see the look of fear in their eyes as they stumbled down the hall. Striding toward them, as though herding them in the direction of the mess hall, was a tall cadet who Harry thought had to be at least as old as Gaius if not older.

He was tall and lean but his skin-tight black uniform showed off a surprisingly muscular form. Brown hair was pushed carelessly behind his ears and fell in waves well past his regulation collar. His eyes were pale, ice blue and the look in them was cold amusement, as if the leader of the group of cadets opposite him wasn't spitting insults at him.

"What the hell?" Harry murmured, looking to Gaius for an explanation.

"Shit," Gaius muttered out of the corner of his mouth, shaking his head. "It's Louis Tomlinson - the Falcon. Stay back and keep out of it."

"I said, you're a faggot, Tomlinson," the leader of the cadets shouted again and his three supporters gave scared hoots of laughter.

"Heard you the first time, Burns," the tall cadet drawled. His graceful, easy movements spoke of coiled energy waiting to lash out at the right time. "There's no need to shout."

"All you Needlers are faggots." The leader, who had skull-cut pale blond hair and bulging china-blue eyes, was still shouting even though the object of his fear wasn't three feet from him. "Go on, Tomlinson, deny it."

Tomlinson had stopped in the exact center of both corridors, blocking the way in every direction so that Harry and Gaius were forced to stop and watch the show. "The question isn't whether I'll deny your accusation, Burns," he said, his deep voice reasonable and still amused. "It's whether I give a shit about what you think in the first place." He grinned lazily, showing extremely white teeth. "And for some reason I just don't."

Needlers? He's a Needler? Harry noticed the coveted silver star circled by a lightning bolt on the shoulder of the tall cadet's uniform. So he was part of a Needle crew. But if Needlers were so respected, why was another cadet - one who was obviously of lower rank and status - calling the tall, brown-haired cadet out?

"Faggot! Fudgepacker! Cocksucker!" Burns' voice was strident and his pale complexion was hectic dull-red color. "All you Needlers take it up the ass!"

"Not all of us," the cadet called Tomlinson said amiably. "Some of us give it. Would you like to find out the hard way?"

"You son of a bitch!" Burns surged forward and his companions made a big show of holding him back. Tomlinson didn't even flinch.

"I'd watch myself, Burns," he said and there was a hint of anger behind the amusement in his ice blue eyes. "Your little show is going to get old soon. And if your friends let you go, I won't just be pulling rank on your narrow ass."