Work Text:
"For you, I'd go
Step to a dude much bigger than me
For you, I know
I would get messed up, weigh 153
For you
I would get beat to smithereens"
Clay wasn’t sure what had come over him.
He and Justin had only recently become friends. Clay would even hesitate to use the word ‘friends’. It might be a bit too strong.
So he was a little bewildered at himself for his present situation, sitting in detention with a black eye and stitches in his eyebrow. All for Justin.
They had weirdly bonded a little just after Justin finally ditched Bryce, much to the joy of pretty much everyone in Clay’s friend group. Hannah and Jess had been telling Justin for ages that Bryce was a creep and he needed to stop hanging out with him. Clay never cared much, so he wasn’t as sympathetic as the girls. He figured it was Justin’s dumb ass choice to keep hanging out with Bryce if that’s what he was doing.
It wasn’t until they all hung out one night – Hannah and Jess and Alex and Clay… and Zach and Justin. Zach and Hannah had sort of become a thing – apparently it was a secret for a while, but Hannah put her foot down and Zach was a little too whipped to argue. He was way far gone for her. Clay was happy for them both and could only hope Zach wouldn’t end up hurting Hannah. But the way he looked like a puppy whenever he saw her, Clay was pretty sure if anyone would be doing the heart-breaking it would be Hannah.
Clay was sort of pissed off that Zach had brought Justin. He barely concealed his eye-roll and he gave Alex a displeased look. Alex only smirked back at him, taking Jess’s hand in his protectively. Then Justin let everyone know he confronted Bryce about some things and basically told him to stay the fuck out of his life. Clay was a little surprised, but tried not to seem too interested. He didn’t understand why everyone was acting like it was such a big deal.
A little later into the night, Clay had actually become grateful for Justin’s presence. Without him, Clay would have made an awkward fifth wheel. Instead, while the couples laughed and whispered with each other, Clay and Justin were forced into having a real conversation for the first time ever. They were drinking beer and it helped Clay feel a little less awkward about it. Justin was definitely deeper into the alcohol than Clay, because he was suddenly saying more than all the words added together in the time Clay had known him.
And mostly he had talked about Bryce, but also his shitty home life and how he’d had to stay with Bryce and how Bryce and his family had given him so much. How he had ignored so many of Bryce’s glaring faults because he’d wanted to see the good in him, the kid who’d shared his lunch with Justin and bought him new clothes. However, Justin had come to realize it wasn’t so genuine or pure-hearted, but instead a manipulation. Clay found himself nodding along with wide eyes and interjecting sympathetic words in the right spots, which Justin brushed off looking uncomfortable.
The thing about bonding with someone when you’re both drinking though, is that the next day it’s hard to feel like it meant anything. Clay didn’t expect Justin to be his friend, and Justin evidently had the same idea. They continued to mostly ignore each other at school, with maybe a little more eye contact in the hall or a nod from Justin as Clay passed by.
It was a little weird around school after both Zach and Justin ditched Bryce, and then some others as well, finding their own friend groups. Soon there was only Bryce, his goon Monty, and a few other loyal followers. But for the most part, the atmosphere around the whole school was improving.
“Clay, head up. I know you’re not finished that essay yet,” the teacher said, bringing Clay back to reality. Mr. Davidson was in charge of detention this week. Clay was supposed to be writing an essay about why violence was never the answer, but Clay couldn’t get very far. He turned his head to look at Justin, who was already staring back at him. Justin had only a small cut on his lip and a couple of small red scratches on his cheek that had already begun to scab and heal.
Clay couldn’t read Justin’s face at all. He didn’t look angry exactly, but he certainly didn’t look happy. He just stared at Clay, lips pressed together slightly, until the teacher told them to keep their eyes on their papers.
Clay stared at the page again. He’d tried writing the essay, but he only ended up trying to explain himself. That self-defense had to be the one acceptable form of violence and how was it fair that he and Justin ended up in detention when Bryce had been the one to start it? Bryce was suspended of course, but that probably meant he was at home getting high and playing video games. Cruel injustice.
“I’ll be right back,” Mr. Davidson said, getting up from his desk. “No talking.” He was probably going for a bathroom break or to get more coffee.
As soon as the door shut, Justin turned toward him. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks… you should see the other guy,” Clay said, with a half-smirk.
“I did. He wasn’t as bad,” Justin said deadpan. Then the hint of a smile. “You’re an idiot.”
“Wow, thanks.”
Justin sighed. “I could have taken him by myself. Jensen, you know I’m stronger than you right?”
Clay didn’t have anything to say to that. He hadn’t been about to stand there and watch Bryce try to beat the shit out of Justin regardless of what the end result might have been.
“I mean, why would you even throw yourself in there? I had to rip Bryce off you anyway,” Justin said. He shook his head and it surprised Clay to hear some anger in his voice now.
Clay wasn’t sure where to even start or how to explain. Justin waited for him to say something. “I… I don’t know,” Clay managed to get out.
Justin looked like he was about to say something else, when Mr. Davidson walked back in, folded newspaper under his arm and steaming coffee cup in hand.
Clay looked back down at his paper. Why had he done it? Justin was far more capable in a fight, Clay knew that. And Bryce was Justin’s problem, not his. Why would he get himself involved in that mess? Would he have done it if it was someone else?
He let his mind wander back to when he and Hannah had been walking out of the school, seeing the commotion outside in the yard. A group of kids circled around Bryce and someone Clay couldn’t see. He and Hannah had hurried over, obviously wanting to know what was going on. Clay had been curious but he certainly hadn’t been readying himself for a fight. He’d been looking around for a teacher on the way over, wondering if he should call the cops, depending on how serious it was.
When he’d seen Justin in the middle of the circle, everything else was drowned out. Jess was standing there crying and screaming at them as Bryce shoved Justin, who stumbled backwards. Bryce was winding up to land a punch and Clay couldn’t stop himself as he dropped his backpack and pushed through the other kids. He came from the side and landed a hit to the side of Bryce’s face, splitting open his cheek.
Clay had had to hold back tears from the pain that shot up his arm. He’d never punched anyone before and certainly hadn’t expected to hurt himself so much. Bryce actually smiled and when he threw a punch at Clay’s face. Clay didn’t have time to do anything but stand there and take it. Soon Bryce was on top of him on the ground and Clay had his arms up protecting his face as fists pummeled them repeatedly. Bryce was suddenly ripped backwards and Clay saw through his one good eye that Justin was on top of him and landed two hits to his face before two teachers and the principal were there to break it up.
Now, Clay looked down at the cast on his arm, tried and failed to wiggle most of his fingers, wincing at the pain. He wondered what he would have done if it was Alex in there instead. Would he have jumped in there just the same? Been as brave? Or stupid? He didn’t think so. He’d just lost total control over himself, he couldn’t even explain why. He glanced over at Justin again, trying to keep his head down to look like he was focusing on his paper.
Justin was staring at a blank white page, even more blank than Clay’s, tapping his pencil on his desk until the teacher asked him to stop.
Detention felt like forever, but when it finally ended, Clay and Justin had both written a couple of paragraphs.
You never want to resort to violence, but sometimes you have to. To protect someone else Clay had written. He’d added some other bullshit about how he should have gotten a teacher instead or called for help or something. But Clay couldn’t say he would have changed what he did at all.
Clay and Justin went their separate ways to go to their lockers and get their things. Clay was already walking out to the sidewalk when he heard Justin call him.
“Jensen. Clay! Wait up.”
Clay stopped and Justin jogged up beside him.
“In a hurry or something?” he asked.
Clay just shrugged. “Can’t ride my bike.” He lifted his arm as a reminder. “Thought I better get a start on walking.”
“Cool, I’ll walk with you.” They started down the sidewalk. “That was brutal. Felt like eternity.”
“Yeah,” Clay agreed. Silence for a couple of steps.
“What did you write about?” Justin asked.
Clay’s mouth went a little dry. He really didn’t want to talk to Justin again about why he’d done what he did. “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Some bullshit about going to an authority figure and not resorting to violence.”
“I mean, I gotta admit, that sounds more like you,” Justin said.
Clay raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s that mean?”
“I just mean you’re smart. You’re not really the physical type. So I just don’t get why you’d jump Bryce like that.”
Clay sighed. “I don’t know. I was angry. Bryce is just… the fucking worst.”
“Yeah, I know,” Justin said in agreement, yet sounding dissatisfied with Clay’s answer. “Thanks, by the way.”
Clay looked at him in surprise. “What?”
Justin sighed and rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he repeated. “I mean, I could have taken him, and you did nothing but throw yourself into danger for no reason.”
“I’m listening,” Clay said wryly when Justin paused.
Justin laughed. “But… no one’s ever stood up for me like that before. Well, other than Bryce I guess,” he said awkwardly.
“Oh,” Clay replied. They had stopped walking, turned to face each other. There was something sad in Justin’s eyes and something about the way he looked up at Clay from under his eyelashes even though he was taller than Clay, and yeah, okay, he understood how so many girls at school had fallen for Justin. Clay swallowed, unwilling to admit that had maybe fallen a bit too. “I also wrote that violence is never the answer you want. But that sometimes it’s necessary. When you want to protect someone.”
Justin’s face seemed to soften at that, eyebrows raised in faint surprise.
“Even if they could probably have protected themselves better,” Clay said with a smile.
He wondered if Justin had stepped closer, or if he’d done it. Justin was looking down at Clay’s arm, dragging his fingers lightly across Clay’s cast, before picking it up delicately.
Clay wished he could feel Justin’s touch. Wished Justin’s fingers were roaming over his other hand, his arm, his chest. He felt his cheeks burn red, embarrassed at the intrusive thoughts.
Justin looked up at him again. Clay couldn’t help but look at Justin’s lips, slightly parted, and then back to his deep eyes, wanting to drown in them.
Clay almost thought he imagined it when Justin leaned in slightly, but then Justin was kissing him and that was most definitely real and so much more than Clay could have imagined.
They kissed on the sidewalk for what was possibly a couple of minutes or only a couple seconds, Clay wasn’t sure. His good hand was gripped tight to the front of Justin’s sweater, holding him there, keeping him close.
Justin pulled back, laughing lightly. He took Clay’s hand from the front of his sweater and clasped it in his own. “Come on, I’ll walk you home,” he said. He had to cross over to the other side of the sidewalk so they could keep walking with Clay’s good hand in Justin’s.
“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Clay asked. “My parents won’t mind, I promise. They’ll probably be happy I have…” Clay paused, swallowing hard, “a friend over.”
“Sure. Yeah, I’d like that,” Justin replied, squeezing Clay’s hand tighter.
By the time they got to Clay’s house, the pain from his arm and his eye were long forgotten, instead replaced by a burning in his cheeks from trying and failing not to smile too hard the whole way home.