Work Text:
Take it easy!
The words haunted Michael’s every waking moment, he wore exclusively long sleeve shirts because of the words across his wrist. He didn’t know what they meant, but they showed up one day. It would have been his 16th birthday, but he didn’t have any kind of party to show it off, none of his friends remembered, and his parents didn’t care. Neither did he. It was never a big thing. His brothers always got the birthdays, Michael was never important to them, he was the rebel kid, the one who once set the whole backyard on fire because he had nothing else to do. The one who twisted his arm back with a snap and broke it, but it was his fault not his brother’s. It doesn’t matter that his brother shoved him down the slide and he fell into the swing in the first place.
The words made him think that he was the odd one out, no one else had them. At least, not that they were showing. At school, life was even harder, his classes pissed him off, and his teachers got mad at him for the simplest of things, no matter what, it was always him, not his peers. Even if it was a girl’s voice that disrupted, the blame was always put on him. He had several detentions and his parents just didn’t care. That’s the reason that he didn’t. He never did, he was raised to not care.
That was, until the day the foreign student walked in. The big-nosed, heavily accented, messy haired, hazel eyed, lanky as hell British kid walked in with a trip, causing the whole class to erupt into laughter and Michael was finally not glared at. He watched this kid as he sauntered over and took the empty seat behind him and Michael could smell the faintest scent of foreign cologne as he passed. He didn’t say a word the entire period and it sort of irritated Michael. He wanted to be able to sneer and make fun of it. He was always used to it.
The bell rang and the kids filed out, Michael rushing out and disappearing off to his locker, surprised to find the kid following him, still taunting him by not speaking. Michael let it go with a sigh, shoving his things into his locker and grabbing his lunch and the moment he turned to close his locker, the boy was gone.
“C’mon, ginger, why don’t you prove to us you have no soul?” Michael could hear the voice behind him of one of the older kids, one of the ones he hated with such a burning passion it could set the school on fire if he tried hard enough.
“Fuck off, asshole,” his rebuttal made him laugh, loud and obnoxious and the freckles on his cheeks began to pop out a little more as his cheeks flushed with anger. His fists clenched and his lunch bag crinkled in his hand.
“Aw, did your mommy make that for you, wittle baby?” His mocking tone only made him madder, and Michael could almost not control it anymore.
“I made it, my mom doesn’t do shit around the house.” It was all he had to keep his voice concentrated.
“Look, gingey, I don’t care, give it up,” bullying for lunch or lunch money is such a fucking middle school thing, Michael thought to himself, causing him to laugh a little, sarcastically.
“That’s not happening, bitchface, this is my lunch, get your own.”
“I’ll get it from you one way or another,” the threat was carried out with a swift, easily avoided punch, and Michael half growled at the taller kid.
“Fuck. Off,” his tone was bordering rage now, and his eyes were a blazing bright brown.
The taller kid made a move closer and Michael swung at him, or would have rather, if the voice behind him didn’t stop him completely and the hand covering his wrist, pulling it back.
“Take it easy!” Michael could feel his heart pounding. Oh fuck no. Not the new kid.
“Who do you think you are, maggot?” The tall kid loomed over the two of them and the Brit stood his ground, a cocky eyebrow raised.
“I am Gavin Free, not that you care, but I am going to stop you,” he stepped forward and with a little narrow of his eyes and some sort of fucking karate chop to the base of his neck, the tall kid went down like a sack.
When he turned back to Michael, his features were pulled into a grin, “Took a bit of martial arts when I was a young lad.”
“Thank you?” Michael’s voice came out as more of a question and Gavin’s expression turned from proud of himself to amazed.
“Oh bloody hell..” He huffed a laugh and pulled up the sleeve of his coat, showing Michael the words he had just said across the tanned arm. “This is awkward then, ‘uh?”
Michael felt a flush of embarrassment, because really he couldn’t deny that he felt something when he had seen the kid earlier, there was just something about him, and then his voice brought it to a whole other level. “I uh, guess so..” He pulled his sleeve up, only slightly far enough to show him the words.
Gavin had seen though, what he didn’t want him to see. He grabbed his wrist before he could pull it away. “We’re gonna talk about this later.” It wasn’t a suggestion.
It was a command, and Michael didn’t know if he was ready to obey it.