Work Text:
Second’s primary school is close enough to his apartment for them to walk instead of driving or taking the bus. Great for the environment, yet terrible for Chosen, who would rather sleep in until ten or eleven in the morning and then get up. Alas, the next three months would see nothing but a grumpy Chosen chugging Redbull in an attempt to gain a bit of consciousness while a hyperactive Second tugged on his hand down the sidewalk.
He could only hope he looked presentable enough to not be mistaken for some kidnapper. Though, he supposed the scene looked more like Second was abducting him, since he did the leading anyways.
Second points out a few flowers along someone’s front lawn as they walk, and Chosen nodded absentmindedly. Second repeats the sentiment, probably not seeing the nod. Chosen grunted in acknowledgment, which appeased the kid enough.
The school came into view long after the sea of children did — groups of children in matching blue-and-white uniforms walking together, parents ushering their kids out of cars, the ringing of bells from bikes as students came in. The kind of loud bustling that Chosen found he might not be able to survive being in for the next three months.
A figure leaning against the gates of the school suddenly turned to their direction, red hair blowing in the wind. He lifted a hand and beckoned them over, uncrossing his arms. Chosen frowned, eyebrows furrowing, and wondered if he should continue walking or start punching the random stranger for such a weird action.
Second stopped and gasped, then suddenly bolted forward, pulling Chosen with him. “Mr. Dark!” he chirps as they near said person. He drops Chosen’s hand — the absolute betrayal, what the fuck — to give Mr. Dark a hug, giggling when he was petted on the hand.
“Hey, hey, Sec, good morning,” Mr. Dark cooed, smiling. Chosen watched him, and he couldn’t help but notice how soft and gentle that smile was on his face. An objectively pretty face. Hm. “Ready for the day?”
“Super ready!” Second exclaims.
Mr. Dark nodded. “Okay, then why don’t you head into the classroom?”
Second tilted his head. “Okay, but Mr. Dark, why aren’t you in the classroom?”
“I think I’m going to have a chat with your…” Mr. Dark glanced over to Chosen, and he suddenly felt a rush of nerves present themselves in his stomach. What the fuck, why was he suddenly so aware of how ratty and shitfaced he looked right now? Why did he not even bother to change out of his pajamas? Was that stain from the smoothie still there?
It takes him a bit too long for him to realize he was being waited upon. “B-brother,” Chosen blurted, then flushed. Mr. Dark was really, really pretty, and he couldn’t help but feel so nervous being pinned under those calculating eyes. “I’m his brother.”
“Great! Sec, go on in before the bell rings, okay?”
“Okay!”
Second runs off, not even bothering to say goodbye to Chosen. He hops into the gates and disappears into the hallways of the school, other students filing in behind him. Chosen looks back down to Mr. Dark, chest fluttering. He wanted to talk to him? Over what? They had only just met. Was he interested in him in some way? The mere thought caused another spike in his heartbeat. Chosen couldn’t imagine catching the attention of such a —
Mr. Dark looked him up and down, snorted, then said, “You wear Pokémon shirts? What are you, five?”
— shitty fucking person!
“Wh — first off, yes, I buy and own and wear Pokémon shirts,” Chosen said with a scowl. “And second, fuck you, cause if you think Pokémon is for five year olds, we’re gonna have a problem.”
“I’m around five year olds everyday,” Mr. Dark says, the corners of his mouth curling. Chosen suddenly has a strong urge to punch his mouth, aggressively, with his fist, because wow is this guy annoying. “I think I know better than you what is suitable for them. Also, don’t curse on school grounds. Bitch.”
Chosen stared, incredulous. “You just —“
“Ah ah!” Dark’s slight smile turned into a grin. “Who said that was a curse? Bitch is just another word for a female dog.”
If there’s a god out there, can you strike this guy down? Chosen flexes his fingers so he doesn’t ball them into fists and pummel them into Mr. Dark’s face. “If that is all,” he says coolly, “I believe I should be on my way then.”
He doesn’t wait for a response before turning, but it turns out there is a response, which just so happens to be a chuckle followed by, “Oh of course that’s not all. I do need to talk to you about Second’s behavior in school.”
“His behavior?” Chosen turns around quickly, stunned. Second was a little angel — a bit contrast to his older brother — so there shouldn’t be anything to talk about unless Mr. Dark wanted to gush about how much of an angel he is. “What do you mean?”
“He and his friends,” Mr. Dark begins, “have been bringing illegal fireworks onto school campus and releasing them in the courtyard.”
…
“What.” Chosen gapes.
“Hasn’t caught fire to anything yet, but it’s spooked a bunch of people. And since we want to avoid said fire, we’d like it very much if you stopped him from doing that.”
“Wh — why are you telling me this?” Shouldn’t the principal be contacting him — no, their dad about this? Why did he just find out in person because of Second’s shitty, asshole, Pokémon-hating teacher? “Mr. Dark —“
A hand goes up, cutting him off. “Just Dark,” he says. “We’re cool.”
“We are most certainly not cool,” Chosen retorted immediately. Not matter how pretty this teacher was, if he’s going to shit on Chosen’s Pokémon attire, then he can go fuck himself. “Dark, why the fuck are you telling me about this?”
Dark tsked. “Second warning. No cursing on school grounds.” He keeps going before Chosen could tell him to shut it. “You think we haven’t tried to contact his guardian? I met the guy, like, once during orientation, and never again. Noticed you started walking him to school a few days ago so I figured you were my best bet.”
“Our dad’s out of state,” Chosen says with a shrug. “Business trip. He’s staying with me for the next three months.”
“Oh, poor thing.”
Chosen furrowed his eyebrows. “Excuse me—???”
“Well.” Dark crosses his arms. “I’d like it very much if you made sure you’ve gotten rid of any fireworks in his possession. I still need to talk to other stupid parents about their kids and fireworks.”
Chosen frowned. “I don’t think Second would do that, though. You sure it’s him? I won’t be mad if you’re mistaken.”
Dark narrowed his eyes and leaned forward menacingly. “You think I’m dumb or what?”
Not really. “Yes,” Chosen says, squaring up and stepping forward as well, using his height to tower over the teacher. He stared sharply back into Dark’s eyes and tried really hard not to let his gaze wander to anywhere else on his pretty face.
“Asshole.” Dark grinned stiffly, canine teeth sharp.
“No cursing on school grounds,” Chosen says condescendingly. Okay, wait, this was kind of fun. He never got to talk to anyone like this because everyone would always get spooked by his supposedly scary face.
Dark grin turned into a scowl as he opened his mouth to shout back a retort, when suddenly a loud ringing came from the building behind them. Dark’s eyes flew open in a panic as he whirled around and saw that the large mass of schoolchildren were slowly dwindling as they all rushed into class. “Oh, shit! My classroom’s on the other side of the fucking school!” Dark cast one last glance at Chosen. “Fuck you for making me late, they’re gonna give me shit for that. See you around, sweetheart!”
And he bolts off.
Sweetheart.
Nope, no no no. Chosen was not going to allow himself to be swooned by that word, especially from such an asshole guy. No matter how pretty. Or charming. Or fun to banter with. Or —
“ARGHHHH!” Chosen screams as he spins around on his heels and slams his palms into his eyes, rubbing vigorously as though trying to cleanse those thoughts physically. He had standards! He could do so much better than this! “Fuck this, fuck him, fuck those stupid fireworks, where the fuck is he getting illegal fireworks from, my fucking fuck!”
Second tears up immediately when Chosen sits down opposite of him during dinner (a dinner consisting of Kraft’s mac and cheese topped with spam) and tells him that his teacher had talked to him about the fireworks. His big wide eyes suddenly grew even bigger, then wetter, until balloon tears were pouring down his cheeks to the point of him hiccuping. Chosen awkwardly pats his shoulder and quickly wraps up the conversation much faster than he liked, ending it off with a “Just stop it, okay?”
Second nodded meekly, salty tears mixing with his already too-salty macaroni, then continues eating like normal. Chosen sighed and leaned back in his chair, running his hands through his hair and wondering what else he can make for dinner that wasn’t the most processed of processed foods. The best he can do is boil water. Maybe he should learn how to scramble eggs?
The next day goes by without incident, and Chosen can pretend he wasn’t looked for someone with fluffy red hair and sparkling eyes and a sharp tongue, and that he very much wasn’t disappointed when he didn’t find what he (wasn’t) looking for.
The day after that, though?
Dark was outside, leaning against the gate, as he was first time they had met. For a moment, when Chosen first catches sight of him, he’d felt a flutter of excitement. But then Dark’s pissed off face turned to look at them, and all butterflies in his stomach suddenly died and turned into dread. Whatever that look meant, it wasn’t good.
“Hi, Mr. Dark!” Second greeted.
“Second!” Dark can somehow switch facial expression so fast that you could almost forget what he previously looked like. He smiled warmly at Second as he came to hug the bottom of his legs again. “Did you tell your brother what we talked about?”
“About what?”
Dark shook his head. “Go to class, Sec, I’ll talk to your brother.”
Second runs off, and again they are alone. As soon as the kid’s back was turned, Dark’s angry scowl reappeared, and he stomps forward to suddenly grab Chosen’s wrist. His eyes widen as he’s yanked forward. “You. Didn’t do as I said.”
“Huh.” He feels a little stupid, a little gushy, maybe a little light. Wow they sure are close. Hope this doesn’t awaken anything.
“Wanna know what happened yesterday?”
“Dying to know.”
“Fireworks.”
“Oh.” He is wayyyyyy too focused on Dark right now to really process his words.
“I told you to get him to stop!”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I can’t stand it when he cries!”
“Boo hoo.” That was the same reason Chosen couldn’t keep up the conversation. Maybe Second was aware he only needs to look pitiful and cry to get whatever he wanted. So far, it’s working very well.
Dark yanked on his wrist again, harsh. “You’re his temporary guardian, so you’d better get him in line. Otherwise he’s going to get suspended! I’m already covering both your asses!”
“You what?”
“The board wanted to expel him for it, like, last week! I promised I’d get it under control, so you —“ Dark uses his other hand to jab insistently at Chosen’s chest. Stupidly, he quite likes it. Ew. “— had better work with me!”
“Okay! Okay, okay, chill,” Chosen replied, grabbing Dark’s wrist off his chest in turn and squeezing it. They glare at each other. “Is this really how you treat all the parents? I’m surprised they let you keep this job.”
“Your fault you’re so annoying.”
Chosen, to be very honest, cannot tell if he is more angered or more interested in this guy. “Excuse me? I haven’t done anything to you! You went up to me and started shitting on my clothes —“
“Terrible sense of fashion, by the way,” Dark added.
“— and then, oh my god, what the fuck, do you ever shut up?” He tosses Dark’s wrist down and yanks his own hand out of his hold. He takes a step back. “Go to your fucking class, Dark.”
“I’ve got time to spare,” Dark says dismissively. “You’re early, which I’m very surprised about. You seem like a guy who’d show up an hour late — if you even show up to school at all.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
Very interesting offer. Chosen almost wants to. He shakes his head to banish whatever rabbit hole that thought was about to lead into. “You’re insufferable. There’s something wrong with you.”
Dark spreads his hands and dipped his head. “I get that a lot. You too, I’m assuming?” There’s a slip of a grin peeking out from his face, so Chosen can tell that he’s enjoying this.
Though he hates to admit it, Chosen also does. It’s a weird double edged sword with this — talking with Dark. Out of the two conversations they’ve had with each other, Chosen had never once felt two such conflicting emotions appear at the same time, at the same degree. “Fuck off.”
“Not so quick-witted, are ya?”
“Are you just gonna stand here and insult me all day?”
“If that’s what you’d like,” Dark says with a slight snicker, and it really shouldn’t be fair that a pretty face has not only such a charming personality but a beautiful laugh as well. Was this guy even real?
“I’d like for you to fuck off far away from here. It’d do us all a great favor,” Chosen replies.
Dark shrugs. “Bite me.”
And before Chosen can even process what the fuck kind of visceral emotional explosion those two words just set off in his belly, the school bell rings. Dark’s face blanched in a similar way as it did before, and he manages to quickly flip Chosen off before he’s sprinting into the gates.
Chosen stands awkwardly, left alone with a gust of wind. Dark really came much too soon and disappeared in the exact same manner. What the fuck? Okay, that’s something that happens now. He supposed. Numbly, Chosen walks back home.
It’s sometimes a blessing in disguise, being stuck with Second for the next few months. Of course he groaned and whined about it, because he really, really does not want to look after a little kid for so long, with no help from their dad. He didn’t even know where to begin — he hadn’t spent a lot of time with Second on his own, having just moved out when he was born.
And he really had no business being there anyways — not with his dad who he regularly fought with, or his new wife that Chosen didn’t want to stand next to, or their sniveling new baby that Chosen couldn’t care less about.
Except every Christmas, even when Chosen was still and awkward and a little bluntly rude, Second would run up to him and tackle him in a big hug and call out “Big brother!” like a cacophony of sweet angels. Chosen could cry anytime he looks at him so adoringly when he could hardly stand to be near him. Second didn’t care that they were half-brothers, that they didn’t have the same mother and they hardly saw each other save a few selected days of the year.
Chosen is very, very lucky, because he’s a piece of shit but whatever worldly being out that still allowed him to have Second in his life.
And Second makes his dull, grey, apartment so much livelier.
There’s crayon on the walls that Chosen finds he doesn’t quite want to wipe off.
“Chooooo! Cho, Cho, guess what!” Second is jumping up and down on the couch as Chosen sweeps dust into a dustpan, back aching as he’s hunched over to reach under the table.
“Hm?”
“Next — next week is, is um, next week is our one hundred day of school!”
“That’s nice.”
“So we gonna have, have art stations and cupcakes and, and a race with the relay!”
“A relay race?”
“Yuh huh! And I like the art stations because I like to draw!” Second makes one final jump before plopping down on the couch, panting.
“You’re a great artist, Second.”
Second gulps in some air. “And they said parents can come help out because all the fourth grade classes are playing together!”
Chosen stills in his movements, then slowly stands back up, wincing slightly as his lower back twinges in protest. “You need parent helpers?” He’s not exactly a parent, but as Dark had said, he was Second’s guardian for now, so did that count?
“Mhm!”
“And you want me to come help?”
“Yes, please!” The way Second looks at him so excitedly vanquishes any protest he had.
Chosen nodded. “Okay.” Second starts cheering, then jumps up and does a victory dance on the couch. Chosen cracks a smile. “By the way, Sec, your teacher told me that you set off fireworks again —“
The cheering is cut off, abrupt, and Second suddenly turns to him with big, glassy eyes, alligator tears already gathered and threatening to fall. Chosen falters, coughing awkwardly. “Um. Nevermind.”
Second resumes jumping, eyes immediately dried and smiling once more. He definitely knew what he was doing. Should Chosen condone this? If he tried to scold him for using his pathetic crying face against him, Second would probably use said face to deter that conversation as well.
Sweet angels, yet a cacophony nonetheless.
He fucking hates his job.
The boba shop he works at has decided to be overly aggressive with it’s cutesy aesthetic. There’s enough pink for him to see it in his sleep, enough flowers for it to burn into his vision, enough flowers for him to smell them even when he’s away. The uniforms were too cute. The aprons were too cute. The mandatory kitty ear headbands were beginning to be too much.
Why does he need to wear cat headbands for work? Wouldn’t that just get in the way? Well it sort of keeps his hair out of the way — but whatever! It’s stupid!
That isn’t even half the reason why he hated it so much — everyone else who works there doesn’t actually even fucking work there!
Oh, no, Jessica called sick? Right before her shift? Every single Wednesday? Oh no, Sean needs someone to cover his shift — with absolutely no reason given? Oh fucking no, Chosen is stuck by himself during rush hour every single fucking weekend?
Wow does he hate it here!
If only any other place would take a dropout idiot with a significant lack of skills in all departments.
It’s because of Sean (because of fucking course, it’s always Sean) that Chosen is running a whole two fucking hours late to picking up Second from school. He’s anxiously tapping his feet on the bus ride home, wondering if it would be faster if he just jumped off and ran all the way there.
It’s a good thing elementary school doesn’t get out late, so the sky was still light by the time he sprints to the school. It strikes him straight in the chest when he takes note of how empty it is — everyone having already left for home.
“Shitttttttttt,” Chosen mutters to himself, skidding to a stop as he finally reaches the front gates and —
Second was there, backpack left laying on the floor. Next to him, surprisingly, was Dark, flapping an origami fortune teller in his hands. Chosen stills and watches. Second excited points to one of the sides, and with a smile, Dark opens the tab. Second scoots closer to peer at the paper as Dark reads out whatever fortune was on the tab.
Oh. He’d spend so much time arguing with Dark he hadn’t really seen him interact with students, other than the spare times he greets Second. He’s surprisingly…docile. Sweet. Cute —
“Cho!” Second perks up as he notices him, snapping him out of whatever weird daze that was in. He jumps up and runs up to Chosen, arms wide open as he jumps into his arms, laughing. “You’re here!”
“I’m here, I’m here,” Chosen whispers, reaching down to pat Second’s head.
Second nuzzles against his legs, then in the same excited tone, announced, “I thought you would never come!”
“Now why would I not come?”
“Cause you got tired of me like you say sometimes!”
“Oh.” Chosen swallowed. “Of course not, Sec.” By now, Dark had already walked over to them as well, holding Second’s abandoned backpack in his hand. And he was fuming. Because of course Dark had to be mad whenever they spoke.
“You jerk,” Dark snaps, tossing the backpack at him. Chosen scrambled to catch it by the straps. “It’s been hours.”
Chosen winced, still reeling from Second’s offhand comment. “I-I’m sorry, I got caught up with work—“
“You can’t be doing that!” Dark exclaims, crossing his arms. “At least arrange for someone to pick him up, or sign him up for after school programs or, or something you f— you, uh, you!”
“Me, uh, me,” Chosen repeats in a mocking tone, frowning. “For the record, this was completely out of my control.”
“Still!” Dark’s eyes were incredibly sharp whenever he’s mad. Enchantingly so. Ew. Chosen needs to stop doing that. Dark needs to stop subconsciously doing that to Chosen. “He’s not signed up for any of the after school programs, so I couldn’t get them to take him until you came! Even if I could there’s no way to contact you to tell you he was with them! God knows your dad won’t answer the freaking phone.”
“Why are you saying freaking.”
“I can’t curse in front of kids. Like, it’s a policy,” Dark explains, briefly distracted from his anger. “Once I accidentally said something and got caught and had to write like, fifteen emails to fifteen people begging them not to fire me.”
“Wow.” Chosen blinks. “That’s so incredibly fucked.”
Dark’s eye twitches. “If Sec wasn’t here I’d have a lot of things to say to that. Don’t show off.”
“I’m not allowed to say a bad word!” Second suddenly pipes up, reminding the two that was very much still there. Chosen slings his backpack over his shoulder, then reaches down to pick him up.
“Anyways,” Dark continues, “you need to get yourself into the school’s systems. Especially if he’s staying with you for so long. And also get better at, like, telling a certain someone not to set off fireworks.”
“He’s still doing that?” Chosen blinks.
“You’re still not getting him to stop?” Dark counters.
“Bitch.”
“You wanna fight?”
“What if I do?”
Silence. Staring. Chosen is very unsure what the fuck is happening right now. All he knows is that he really, really doesn’t want it to stop.
“Cho,” Second says, effectively cutting whatever tension was in the air and, well, getting them to stop. “I need to pee.”
Chosen hefts him higher in his arms. “Okay, let’s go home then, alright?” He wants to do anything but go home. He wants to stay here forever. He wants to be alone with Dark and do whatever the fuck this is, forever and ever, because it is just so, so fun.
“Bye, Second,” Dark says, voice switching back to that sweet, friendly tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow! And — here.” Dark holds out the fortune teller, which Second takes excitedly. “You remember how to make them?”
“Mhm!”
“Okay! Then you can keep this one.” Dark winks cheekily at Second. “You can play it with your scruffy older brother.”
“I’m not scruffy,” Chosen protests.
“Sure you aren’t…” Dark looks at him. “You never told me your name.”
“Oh — it’s uh, I’m Chosen.” What the fuck has Dark been referring to him as, then? Does Second not talk about him? Does Second not like him that much? “Nice to meet you.”
“It was not nice to meet you,” Dark says, but the way he says it is…different. Like he didn’t meant the words, but also did, but — what the fuck is even happening anymore? Chosen is so confused. In somehow a good way. “And I’m not meeting you for the first time, either.”
“Right,” Chosen stuttered.
“Idiot.”
“Asshole.”
Dark grinned. “I get that a lot.”
On the way home, Second presents the fortune teller to Chosen, making him select a row of colours on the tab.
He picks green.
Second flicks it a few times, then asks him to pick a number.
He picks five.
Second flicks it five times, then asks him to pick from a new row of numbers.
Chosen picks two.
Second unfurls the tab, clears his throat, and reads, “The one you love is closer than you think!”
… What.
Chosen’s not the only parent that signed up to be a volunteer, obviously, but he hasn’t expected so many to arrive. There might even be an excess amount of hands helping out. He feels a bit out of place next to the actual parents — especially because they all seem to avoid him and whisper about his “scary-appearance” and how he is “not a good influence on the kids”. Second is glad to see him, at least, so that soothes his nerves a bit.
He gets put at one of the stations indoor, helping kids handle scissors to make a paper doll link and color them in. It’s loud, and he isn’t quite sure how to talk to them. They all looked a bit scared by his face. This sucked. He hates kids. One of them sneezed on him.
At one point, Dark wanders over to him (Chosen pretends that he hadn’t been watching him flutter around and help direct kids to the events the whole time), holding a handful of trash and dumping it in the recycling bin right next to their station’s table. He sighs, turns, leans against the wall, then glances over at Chosen. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Chosen croaks.
“Having fun?”
Chosen unwraps crayon wrapper and hands it to one of the kids. “Just so much.”
“You’re lucky you’re doing indoors. It’s hot out.” Dark leans down, hovering over his shoulder, and Chosen had to physically stop himself from freezing. “Wow, Susan, that looks so cool!”
Susan’s paper doll link was most certainly not very cool — it was very, very ugly and misshapen. She smiles triumphantly anyways, squeaks when Chosen turns to look at her, then quickly looks away. Chosen tries not to wince, embarrassed. Why’d he even bother coming if all he’s gonna do is scare kids away from having fun?
Dark, however, was having none of that. “Susan,” he chides, “that’s no way to treat someone. How would you feel if someone did that to you?”
Chosen is stunned to the fucking bone. Didn’t Dark hate his guts or something? Susan’s bottom lip wobbled. “But — but my mommy and daddy said that people with piercings on their face was from the devil…”
Dark, suddenly, patted Chosen’s cheeks and leaned down next to him. “Do you really think such a handsome guy could be friends with our neighbor downstairs?”
“N…no…”
“And we shouldn’t judge people based on their appearance.”
“Ohhh.” Susan had the face of someone who just had the whole world figured out. In fact, the other four kids at the table looked like they came to the same revelation. “I get it now!”
Dark lets go of Chosen’s face, ruffles Susan’s hair, then takes a peak at the other kids’ craftsmanship. Chosen actually is frozen in place now. His heart is racing — almost to the point he thinks it might burst. What the fuck was that. Why does his skin tingle warmly wherever the fuck Dark touched, and why did his belly do some weird flop when he called him handsome, and why — why, why, why, why does he not hate this annoying, asshole if a Pokémon-hating jerk?
He’s losing his mind. Chosen thinks he’s finally succumbed to his own madness.
Second is happy when he finally gets rotated to Chosen’s table, going so far as to introduce him personally to his four friends. Chosen awkwardly greets them back, and surprisingly, they don’t seem that intimidated by his appearance. They might even think he looked cool like that. The day only just keeps getting more and more bizarre.
An hour later, their classroom gets moved to the relay race outside. There’s enough parents helping outdoors that Chosen volunteers to stay behind and clean up the mess that was left behind in their arts and crafts time, before the next group of kids came in. Also gives him an excuse not be whispered about by the other parent volunteers.
Except… it was put him alone, in the classroom, doors closed, with Dark.
And at first, it was going well! Really well! They both set off to work immediately, rushing to throw scraps of paper into the recycle and markers back into buckets and stuff discarded projects onto a pile for pick up later. No words were spoken, the both of them too focused on getting their task done.
Everything was going super well! Until Chosen who was carrying a box of colored pencils, and Dark who was carrying an armful of strips of paper, bumped right into each other in the midst of their running around.
They both yelped as their bodies collided, pencils and paper bursting in an explosion. They clattered to the floor, marking it a sea of colorful trash. Chosen stared down at the mess, wide-eyed, as he rubbed his arm. Dark lets out a shuddering breath. They look up at each other.
“You,” Dark says, slowly, with barely-concealed anger, “need to watch where you are going.”
“I was.” Chosen steps forward, still pissed at the pain in his arm. And the fact that Dark was pinning the blame on him. Was a sorry that hard? “Maybe you need to watch your step.”
“You ran into me!”
“No, you did!”
“Fuck you, I didn’t!” Dark stomped closer too, practically stealing his air. “And look at the mess you caused! Do you know how hard it is to pick up paper from the floor!? Without a broom!?”
“The mess I caused!?” Chosen shouts. “The fuck you mean? You were the one who hit me! If anything, you caused this, fucker!”
“No I didn’t!”
“Yes you did!”
“I swear to fucking gods above ,” Dark huffs, “I’m going to fuck you up.”
“Yeah? Fucking try me, ya piece of shit!” He’s still thinking about the feeling of his hands on his cheeks. He’s still thinking about being called handsome. He’s still thinking about how Dark was undeniably beautiful.
And then Dark’s face darkened, and his lips pull back, and then there’s a fist flying at Chosen’s face. He blocks it in the nick of time, heart jumping to his throat.
Hell breaks loose.
They tackle each other, kicks and punches hazardously thrown around. Chosen can pride himself on being a pretty decent fighter — haven been in one too many fights in school — but he’s surprised at how well Dark can hold up. And especially how much his punches actually land, even with Chosen ducking and blocking as many as he could.
There’s an air of mischief, of boyish joy in the adrenaline of the fight, even when it looked like they were trying to genuinely kill each other from the outside. Chosen’s knuckles are shining, and Dark’s bottom lip splits open with blood, and their scuffle is painful and intense yet at the same time so fucking fun.
And Chosen was laughing — full blown, genuinely, belly-aching laughter. He’s having fun. Beating someone to shits, as well as being beat up to shits, was somehow fun. Because of course, because it’s Dark, because, because Chosen cannot stop himself from looking for him in a room full of people, or the rise of excitement when he approaches him, or the tingle in his chest because Dark had called him handsome.
“Ow! Fucker!” And even through all this, Dark is laughing too. Blood dribbles down his chin, and his shirt is tussled and his hair is in his face, but his large smile matches Chosen’s — and Chosen had never seen him so openly happy, but it’s such a good look, it’s wonderful, it’s —
A direct hit to his nose has the thoughts flying out the window. They’re shoving desks and tables and chairs, bumping into counters and stumbling over the fallen colored pencils. Chosen is definitely insane, he thinks. Being insane is so great.
They’re giggling too much now to properly fight, hits dissolving into meaningless wacks. Chosen backs Dark against the closer of craft supplies, one hand rubbing his chin which had started shining after a few hits to the same spot. Dark tips his head back against the closet doors and laughs, mouth opened and shoulders shaking.
“My fucking god!” he exclaims, using one hand to wipe away the blood in his mouth. “Holy shit, I’m bleeding? Really, man?”
Chosen grins back at him. “‘ts what you get for bumping into me.”
“Did not.” Dark is smiling.
“Did too.”
“Nuh uh.”
“Yuh huh.”
“You bumped into me.”
“Shut up,” Chosen says.
“Make me,” Dark says back.
Well, okay.
They both see it coming — maybe, they both get the same idea. But soon enough, Chosen’s mouth meets Dark’s halfway, and he wraps his arms around his waist to pull him in closer. He can taste the blood in his mouth as they kiss, metallic and stinging and a bit gross, really, but they’re kissing, so Chosen can happily ignore that. Dark pulls him closer in turn, and it’s perhaps a good thing they’re both up against the closet, because Chosen might fall over without the support.
“The pencils are still on the ground,” Dark mutters into the kiss, tilting his head.
“Mhm.” Chosen does not give a fuck about colored pencils.
“Someone might trip.”
Who cares? They’re kissing. And it’s fucking great. “It’s fine,” Chosen murmurs.
Dark sighs against his mouth. “Yeah, you’re right —“
BOOM!
They jump apart, shoulders raised in alarm. A scream is sounded off in the distance, followed by a lot of cheering. Cackling noises followed. Chosen’s lightheaded from the scare, but Dark sighs and shrugs. “Fireworks,” he explains when he sees Chosen’s confused expression.
“Oh.” He frowns when he sees Dark start heading for the door. “Where are you going?”
“Uh?” Dark glances at him, then the door. More cheering from outside. “To get them to stop…?”
Chosen grabs his arm and pulls him back. Dark follows with no protest. “There’s other teachers out there,” he points out, leaning in again.
“Yes…” Dark still looked doubtful.
“And like, thirty parents.”
“True…”
“Let someone else handle it.”
“They’re incompetent,” Dark says, closing his eyes as Chosen slowly kissed him. Gentle.
“Mhm. Whatever you say.”
“You need to get Second to stop. I don’t know where he gets them.” They’re talking too much and not kissing enough for Chosen’s liking. “I know he supplies them though.”
“I’m trying.”
“You chicken out cause he starts to cry, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Me too. He definitely knows it gets him out of trouble.”
“Can we not talk about my brother right now and just make out some more?” Chosen pulls away slightly to ask them, blinking pleadingly.
Dark nodded enthusiastically in response. Another scream from outside, followed by laughter. At least they’ll be too distracted outside to come into the classroom. Dark tilts his head up expectantly, and Chosen leans down and kisses him.
Hah. What the fuck is even happening anymore.