Work Text:
1.
“Sorry!” yelled some kid over his shoulder, jostling Len as he pushed past.
Len glared at the kid’s back. “Asshole,” he muttered.
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2.
Loud laughter rang through the hall.
“And she said, she said, get this,” said this random blond kid, barely able to speak for how hard he was laughing. “‘Sorry, I gave you a fake name!”
“You’re telling tall tales, boy!” laughed some guy with a scottish accent.
“No, I promise you this happened,” wheezed the blond kid.
Leonard rolled his eyes. “You’re blocking the hallway,” he said loudly.
The blond boy glared and moved out of the way. “Sorry.”
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3.
Len wasn’t the youngest in his advanced xenobiology class anymore. Which was, like, fine. He wasn’t one of those people who constantly had to be the best. He could deal with not being the baby in every class. Honestly, it could be kind of a pain, taking advanced classes like he was. Since he was already a doctor, he was taking class for people on their fifth year of the Academy when he was only on his first. That made him about year younger than most other people in his classes since he’d spent time as a practicing doctor before he enrolled in the Academy. And that wasn’t an issue for him. The issue came with who the new youngest was.
Len didn’t know his name. He did. however, know that he was annoyingly blond, annoyingly smart, annoyingly loud, and annoying. For one, he raised his hand constantly. Like, for every question the professor asked. Like an asshole. And he got all the questions right, which was even more annoying. Fuckin’ smart ass. He always sat in the front row, and he always stayed after class to talk to the professor.
“Class dismissed!” announced the professor, and the class began to gather their shit and file out. Len watched Blond Kid walk up to the teacher, as he always did.
“Suckup,” he muttered as he passed.
“Heard that,” said Blond Kid loudly.
Len groaned and turned around. “Heard what?” he huffed, going with the gaslight gatekeep girlboss method.
“You wouldn’t call me a suckup if you saw my grades,” said the kid, crossing his arms.
Len raised an eyebrow. “Do you know what a suckup is?”
“It’s called using your resources and being a good student,” Blondie scoffed. “Not that you would know anything about that.”
Len didn’t even bother responding. He turned around and left the classroom.
“Yeah, that’s right,” called the kid, floundering. “Leave. I bet your grade is tanked.”
“I’m best in the class,” he called behind him.
The blond kid didn’t say anything else. Serves him right for being a stuck up brat, Len figured.
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+1.
Len really didn’t know why he was at this party. He’d been convinced by a couple of friends to come, but now they’d ditched him to go make out with each other, which was kinda gross. He leaned against the wall, watching the party-goers party. The loud music was kinda making his head hurt.
He sighed. Why did he keep going to parties? He never enjoyed them. It’s not like the booze was ever good enough to warrant the hassle of walking home. And the music sure as hell wasn’t worth it. It was way to crowded and way too loud and he needed to get out.
The front yard was littered with litter and one or two people puking in the grass. But more important to Len at this particular moment was the group of people cornering a short blond kid over to his left.
“Stay away from my girlfriend, you tiny dick!”
“She approached me,” said the kid, staring fearlessly up at the much bigger guy pinning him to the wall. “Maybe you should go talk to her instead.”
“Shut up you, you little twerp!” yelled Big Dude. His friends that stood around him muttered stupid threats.
“Oh my god, is this a teen movie from the 1980’s?” Len called from the doorway where he was leaning. “Come up with a better insult, dickhead.”
“What, do you think you’re a hero?” said one of Big Dude’s friends menacingly. Not that menacingly. Seriously, was this twenty-first century cafeteria bully scene? Were they about to ask for his lunch money? What the fuck.
“No,” said Len. He waved his phone above his head. “Just the guy who can call the cops.”
The group scoffed and stalked away. Len craned his neck to look at the blond kid, who was breathing heavily. “You good, kid?”
“Fine. Thanks,” he said a bit begrudgingly.
“Good,” he replied. He turned on his phone and looked for Candy Crush. He couldn’t just leave yet; his friends may be making out now, but they’d probably come crawling back to him and ask him to drive them home later.
“Hey, um,” started the kid, and Len jumped a bit. He hadn’t expected him to continue the conversation. “Do I know you?”
Len looked over and smiled. “Not properly.”
“I’m Jim Kirk.”
“I’m Leonard McCoy. Nice to meet you.”