Work Text:
‘come over’.
vance could usually ignore texts at 2 in the morning, but when bruce yamada asked him to come over at such times, panic settled deep into his gut, tearing through his flesh and pushing the remains of his dinner up his throat.
bruce had a very strict routine. in bed by 11, asleep by 12, and the only time he had ever broken this routine is when the incident happened. vance hastily slipped on his black boots, throwing on the first tshirt his hands reached. thinking about his best friend bloodied and cut up sent sharp shivers up his spine, like daggers pulling his skin apart. he ran down the stairs and out the door, not caring to be quiet or lock the door behind him. bruce needed him.
as he ran down the two streets that separated their houses, (“fuck, when did these streets get so long”) he could make out bruces window dimly lit, and as he got closer, he noticed it was open.
climbing up and over the window, vance watched bruces small frame flinch lightly as his head shot up from under the blue and red covers.
“bruce, why the fuck is the window open, you’re lucky i saw it before some creep did.” vance scolded, tone soft as he shut the window behind him. shit, i left the door unlocked, vance thought before turning back to bruce, meeting glassy eyes.“hey, whats wrong?”
vance slowly sat down on bruces bed, chocolate brown eyes locked on his every move. he moved further into the bed, encouraging bruce to let him lay down, a head of dark locks resting on his hard chest. they stayed like that for what felt like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, before bruce spoke up.
“vance?”
“hm?”
a gnarly sensation started growing in vances gut, what felt like molten lava splashing around inside him, boiling his organs and burning him from the inside out.
“im in love with you.”
oh.
oh.
bruce yamada was in love with him.
bruce fucking yamada was in love with him.
he must have stayed quiet for far too long cause when he came back to reality, bruce was looking up at him, honey brown eyes trying to decipher his expression, tears welling up in them.
“cmon, vance, say something, dude.” he pleaded, voice breaking. it broke vances heart.
“bruce, man, i’ve been in love with you for so long, holy shit, you dont know how happy i am!” a smile spread on vances features, eyes twinkling in the dim room. it was the brightest sparkle bruce had ever layed his eyes upon. and god, did it hurt him.
“vance..”
“i’ve been waiting for this since, like, third grade? are you serious”
“vance!”
“dude, i need to tell my sister, shes gonna freak out, just wait-“
“vance, emily asked me out!”
the silence in the room was deafening, all of a sudden. the world went quiet.
“and… i said yes.”
it felt like hours before the words sank in, but when they did, they hit vance like a truck.
“what… the fuck, bruce?” vance scoffed. he fucking scoffed in bruces face, quickly getting up.
“you… you’re leaving? you’re leaving me, vance? pelase im so sorry, please dont-“
“fuck you, yamada. oh, fuck you, fuck you!” his lip wobbled, but vance wouldn’t let himself cry, especially now in front of bruce, not when it was so embarrassing. “why the fuck would you tell me? why would you confess? why would you make me confess? you sick fucking bastard! just when i thought you were mine, bruce…”
and bruce just sat there, fat, hot tears running down his cheeks like a waterfall, mouth hung open as he heard vances voice crack with each word. and vance fucking scoffed, again.
“yeah, just sit there like a dumb little bitch, just like you always fucking do! im gone.”
and just like that he was gone. and bruce knew he was, because as he climbed down bruces window, he left it open, the bitter taste of the word yamada on his tongue. he was no longer bruce. he was just yamada, again.
——————
as the week went on, bruce noticed the changes in vance hoppers behaviour. he stood at his locker as he watched the boy walk around with his knuckles messily wrapped with tissue and duct tape, thick, red blood seeping through the messy edges of the tissue, not having bruce to carefully wrap his bloody knuckles. his hair was tightly held with a simple black hair band, a couple strands poking out. his white shirt, stained with blood and sweat, messily in his loose jeans, held by a belt with a thick buckle, black boots on his feet. his lips sported one small cut, and they looked chapped and rough. his cheek was adorned with a deep purple bruise, which made bruce bite his lip in worry.
but still, bruce thought he looked so insanely hot.
they made eye contact, and vance rolled his eyes as soon as they met bruces. the boy visibly froze, a frown overtaking his features. he rolled his eyes at him.
as the rumour about vance hoppers most recent fight went around, bruce had found out that a knife had been pulled, and immediately, bruces heart dropped to his stomach.
he excused himself politely from his group of friends and made his way to where he knew vance would be, the toilets on the second floor that were closed for construction but hadn’t been touched in almost three years. it was their hangout spot, where vance could let his façade drop.
and sure enough, there he was, bloody knuckles and busted lip, cigarettes hanging between them. his eyes were closed and bruce wasn’t sure if he was aware of his presence, but he was almost regretting coming to look for the older boy.
bruce sat down on the wall os the stall, opposite vance, and at that, icy blue eyes met his own chocolate ones. and they just stared at eachother.
vance was the first to break eye contact, closing his eyes and inhaling the smoke from the stick in between his lips.
“i thought you quit.” bruces voice was small and broken, and he was almost embarrassed by it.
“ok.” bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening his mouth again. “i dont wanna hear it, bruce. go back to emilia or emila or whatever her name is.” his tone was cold and distant, his two fingers holding the cigarette.
“ok, then don’t listen, just let me talk. please?” he pleaded, and when he didn’t get any reaction, he took it as his cue to proceed, leaning his head back and taking a deep breath. “emily. her name is emily. and i dont want anything to do with her. sure shes pretty, and shes kind… but…” he looked over at vance, finding his eyes already on him, he gulped before sitting up and crossing his legs, fiddling with his own fingers as they rested on his thighs. “she isnt you. and i know that sounds silly and you probably hate me now, but if you wanna punch me, do it and let me down softly. please, i apologise.”
and vance stared. even though bruce didn’t look up, he could feel vances eyes undressing him and taking him apart, looking in the deepest parts of his heart, body and soul, exposing the most hidden parts of the baseball player, looking for something bruce didn’t know how to give him.
“bruce. look at me.”
his voice was softer, still sharp as knives, but softer. and so bruce looked at him, letting vances eyes explore his soul even deeper and before he knew it.
vance punched him.
hard.
in the face.
“damn, that felt good.”
the cigarettes between his fingers had been long put out, probably during bruces rambling, and his hand had started bleeding again as his raw knuckles made contact with yet another face.
but that didn’t matter cause as soon as bruce had recomposed himself, vances lips were on his.
it was messy, with blood and tears and spit, but it was theirs. not dramatic like bruce had read about, there were no fireworks and oceans of emotions, just him and vance.
he couldn’t be happier about it.