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fighting my battles

Summary:

Martyn and Scott are on the same football/soccer team, along with Joel, a man who has decided he despised Scott for some reason. After going a bit too far, Martyn throws the first punch and they get into a fight. The fic follows Martyn and Scott shortly after the fight was broken up. Scott tends to Martyn, though they both flirt and tease until both of their spirits are lifted once more.

Notes:

I have been struggling to write a fic for the mini exchange on my server- trying to make it good, writing and then scrapping multiple drabbles- but, then, I went to use the sprinting bot for the first time in awhile. I managed to write all of this in one sitting, granted that sitting was several hours, but yippie! Go me!

To kaihuntrr: You wanted majorwood and fluff, so I delivered within the posting window, with a bonus bucket-load of bad humor mixed in! I hope you enjoy, and that I can get you to smile while reading >:D

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“That was really stupid,” Scott murmured, his voice sharp but not unkind. They were both dripping with sweat as the summer sun shined down on them. Using a spare towel, Scott attempted to dry the droplets that formed on his brow without irritating his slightly swollen face.

“I don’t know what he expected,” Martyn huffed, glaring at Joel from the other side of the football field– soccer, for the non-Brits. “Mocking you, insulting you so openly like that, trying to disgrace your name and skill… Honestly, he had it coming.”

Most of their teammates had gone home after practice finished, but a few had lagged behind. Martyn wasn’t sure who was still left, but there was, at minimum, one other person was still here. They were fussing over the black eye Martyn’s right hook had given Joel, but Martyn didn’t pay attention enough to notice who. They had the team uniform on, so Martyn would likely recognize them if he gave it a second thought. He didn’t, however, giving his boyfriend his attention instead.

“I appreciate that you care enough to stand up for me, Martyn, but I can fight my own battles. Play my own game.” Scott dabbed the hastily thrown together ice pack against Martyn’s inflamed cheek. “I’m a good player in my own right. Joel’s taunts don’t change that. A few words of ill-will aren’t enough to break my spirit.”

“Well, yeah, but, it's more than–” Martyn started to protest, but he promptly clamped his jaw shut when Scott pressed a finger to his lips.

“No need to argue. Drink.” Scott let his finger drop and, in exchange, lifted Martyn’s water bottle up for him to grab. Once he took the bottle and opened the top, Scott continued speaking, “I know Joel acts all confident and full of himself, but he’s really just insecure– and petty, which says something coming from me. I’m not afraid to be a little petty, but Joel can and has taken it to the extreme. He’s just taking it out on me like an immature child, for some reason or another.”

Martyn snorted at the comment, finding the “immature child” part fairly accurate. He didn’t say anything though, tossing his head back and gulping down a good portion of the liquid in the water bottle like it was nothing. 

Scott frowned, gaze wandering over to their teammate with a vague sense of hurt and longing. “He’s been like that for as long as I can remember… which is about as long as he’s decided that he hates me, or that I’m some sort of threat to his image. There’s no use bothering yourself about the why when it comes to stuff like this, because there isn’t always a why. He’s just… I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you. It’s okay.”

Martyn wrinkled his nose at that explanation. Really? What did Scott take him for? Of course he was going to worry! Scott was his boyfriend, and Joel was an ass when it came to him. Scott was nothing but friendly and a team player. He got along with everyone– everyone but Joel, that is– so Martyn couldn’t figure out what was possibly going on in Joel’s head. Joel hadn’t seemed like that bad of a guy when Martyn got to know him, but his attitude towards Scott tainted a lot of his good qualities. At least, they did in Martyn’s eyes.

The three of them were all on the same football team, so it would be in Joel’s best interest to work with Scott instead of against him. Unfortunately, that wasn’t how it often played out. Their team had lost several goals because Joel refused to pass to Scott (even if he was objectively the best choice at the moment) if he thought there was another option. 

Every time they would do practice scrimmage, Joel made sure he was on the opposite team from Scott. Martyn couldn’t deny the fact that Joel was a very passionate man, but Martyn just wished he put that passion into the sport itself and, maybe, actually, y’know, help them win without foolishly instigating in-fighting. Scott had expressed multiple times that he would be more than willing to let their “rivalry” be a thing of the past, but Joel just refused to let go for whatever reason. It infuriated Martyn and the rest of the team greatly, but Joel was too good of a player to rationalize kicking him off the team.

After a moment of silence, Martyn inquired, “Why does he hate you? Do you have any idea about what it could be?”

“It’s anyone’s guess. He won’t tell me.” Scott shrugged as if it were no big deal, but his tone was exasperated. He shot a glance toward Joel, his face contorting unpleasantly. He forced his facial muscles to relax as he turned his attention back to Martyn. “I don’t think he knows why he has it out against me– at least, anymore. I probably offended him when we were little, and he’s held the grudge so long that everything I do is cause for war.”

“Well, I will fight loyally by your side, milord.” Martyn lowered his voice an octave just to add some extra dramatics and flair to his words. He put a balled fist against his chest before dipping his head in a shallow bow. “If that scum doesn’t lay off, he will become well familiar with the taste of my fist, I assure you.”

Scott’s pout morphed into a wary chuckle, and Martyn beamed at him in return. His side mission of lifting Scott’s spirits after all the horrible jabs Joel had directed at Scott were succeeding!  

With a sly smirk creeping onto his features, Scott replied, “I thought Ren was ‘milord’.”

Martyn buffered for a moment as his boyfriend mentioned his best friend. Ren and Martyn both had a love of theater and D&D, and, long story short, they often spoke to each other as if they were a king and his knight. If one were to ask Martyn about this moment later, he would claim he recovered quickly, though who's to say he did? “I can have two! There is no law saying otherwise.”

“Oh, can you now?” Scott mused, raising an eyebrow. “Does that make Ren and I husbands?”

Martyn gasped in faux horror, clutching his imaginary pearls. “What kind of eighty episode season soap-opera drama am I in? Has my boyfriend and my best friend been getting handsy behind my back? This whole time? Without me? If you two wanted to do a three-way, you could have just asked!”

“Oh my void, Martyn!” Scott squeaked, cheeks flushing a dusty red against his fair complexion. The red on his cheeks only grew more vibrant as Scott burst into a chorus of giggles. “No, I am not having an affair with Ren. I promise.”

“Okay, maybe so, but, consider this: if you were going to, you would let me watch, yeah? You would, wouldn’t you?” Martyn quipped, leaning into the bit. He personally found it amusing, and he happened to enjoy making others laugh at his intentional foolishness. “It’s the least you two can do, surely. A way to make it up to me for the affair. I deserve some entertainment!”

Scott whacked him over the head, intentionally not actually causing him any harm. Scott’s hand kicked up Matyn’s blonde locks, making his hair a little messy, but Martyn didn’t mind. He was already a sweaty mess after their recent football practice, and he planned to shower once he got back home anyway.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Scott tended to the mess he was partly responsible for, brushing the hair that escaped Martyn’s headband out of his face, “or I may just have to leave you for Ren after all.”

“Well, polyamory does exist, and so does being friends with benefits,” Martyn kept up the bit, purposely playing it up to make sure Scott and potentially others knew he was just being silly. “I mean, have you seen Ren? Like, damn, that man is fine. If we weren’t exclusive, I would have ‘friends to lovers’ our relationship a long time ago.”

“If you seriously mean that, we have some things to discuss,” Scott murmured, though it was clear that conversation would be shelved for later. 

“A’course,” Martyn concurred, taking Scott’s hand in his and raising it to his lips. “It’s always good to check in with one another.”

“Friends to lovers,” Scott repeated the story trope like it had just now registered in his brain, tone displaying a hint of baffled amusement. “Void, Martyn, you’re impossible. I can’t believe some of the things that come out of your mouth sometimes.”

“I don’t either,” Martyn placed his hands on Scott’s hips to help pull Scott onto his lap, “yet you still love me!”

“That I do,” Scott agreed softly, resting his arms on Martyn’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around Martyn’s waist. His knees were grass-stained, and his hair and clothes were mildly damp from the sun and exercise, but Martyn still thought he was the most gorgeous being to walk the earth. 

No other words were spoken between them as they closed the gap, sealing it with a kiss. The kisses started off gentle, but they quickly grew deeper until they were so deep all of Martyn’s other senses turned off. The world around them faded into the background, and the only thing that seemed to matter was Scott. It was like Martyn became hypersensitive to Scott’s touch, each little movement sending shock waves of pleasure down his spine.

They both gasped for air when they broke, chests heaving with the effort. Scott fell forward into him, forehead resting against Martyn’s shoulder. “Kissing you is more exhausting than football practice. You literally steal the air out of my lungs.”

Martyn mounted his hands on Scott’s back, giving himself enough leverage to pull Scott’s body closer to him. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

“You should be very offended,” Scott teased lightheartedly, though his words were muffled in Martyn’s jersey. “Or, perhaps, you should be honored. You know, for making out with the husband of King Ren himself.”

“Oh, you cheeky motherfucker!” Martyn exclaimed in reaction to Scott bringing back his joke. He entangled his fingers in Scott’s dyed blue hair, securing a strong grasp on the locks. Once satisfied with his grip, Martyn pulled Scott’s head back so they were face to face once more before abandoning his hold.

“Perhaps,” Scott fluttered his eyelashes innocently, knowing exactly what he was doing, “yet you still love me.”

“Fortunately for you,” Martyn jabbed his finger toward Scott’s chest, “I do, you lucky bastard.”

“The luckiest,” Scott agreed, taking Martyn’s hand and raising it up to cup his cheek. He leaned into it, letting his eyelids flutter close with a content expression on his face. “I love you, Martyn.”

Martyn softened at those words, the playful nature being replaced with genuinity. He rubbed his thumb against Scott’s cheek. “I love you too, Scott.”

Notes:

They're so stupid /aff

I'm going to lay down now and maybe go to sleep because it is almost two in the morning :p

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