bemorelovely | highschool au!

highschool au!

Frankly Jon found highschool tropes exhausting, which was unfortunate because he occasionally lived them. The particular one that was the most annoying was 'bully the weird nerd who thinks he's smarter than everyone,' mostly because it ended damaged notebooks, occasional bruises and, worst of all, wasted time. So much wasted time.

Jon was smart though, and even if he didn't have the best common sense he learned how to keep under the radar most of the time. If keeping his mouth shut on occasion meant he could have a peaceful day he could manage, most of the time. Sometimes he couldn't.

Today was one of those times.

Earlier in the day he heard some comments from one of the brutes about Martin, of all people, something not necessarily strange given Martin was a bit of a chatterbox but unpleasant all the same. That may not have been enough to have him say anything- Martin was fine, he guessed, in a way that reminded Jon of eager dogs- if they hadn't brought up Martin's mother.

Maybe it was just nonsense, maybe there was some sort of rumor going around, whatever the reason the talk existed it rubbed Jon the wrong way, and he made the incredibly stupid decision of getting the group's attention and sassing them.

Yeah, that didn't go great.

In the end he managed to get away, losing his notebook to them and sporting a split lip for his trouble. He was pretty sure he lost them when he slammed right into someone down the empty, after school English hall.

"Oof- for god's sake, watch where you're going!" He shot out testily, because he apparently never learned.

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"Oh my god, are you serious right now?" And then, like that, Martin thinks if he rolls his eyes any harder they might actually pop out of his head. "I don't feel obligated to you, you giant nerd. This may come as a surprise, but I actually enjoy spending time with you. What a total shock, I know."

"... did you really just call me a giant nerd? What are you, a cartoon character?" Jon asks, though that certainly did answer his concerns and his lips quirk despite himself. "Honestly, can you blame me for being concerned? You're you, I have no trouble imagining you feeling you owed someone something for as silly a reason as that."

"I'm nice to people, Jon, that doesn't mean I'm going to fake a friendship out of obligation. That's literally the opposite of being nice." He rolls his eyes again as he falls into step beside Jon again, smiling a little now, and he's possibly a little closer than he was before. "You've got a pretty twisted view of what being nice is."

"I suppose you have a point." Jon admits, glancing over- or up, Martin certainly hit his growth spurt and Jon was fairly sure he was never going to catch up. It would look awkward if it wasn't endearing on Martin, for whatever reason.

No, Jon was not going to dissect that thought deeply. "I'm sure it wouldn't have been fake, just an attempt you might not have made without the catalyst of today's incident- and don't even start on my vocabulary there." He answers dryly. "So if you're sure... then I'll look forward to it. It's been a while since I've gone to a movie."

Martin's height is the reason why he slouches, and he shrugs again with his hands in his pockets. "You really think that you've got me figured out, don't you? All of that- psychoanalysis there."

He shrugs very slightly there, face still forward. "Today isn't a catalyst for anything except me getting a new handkerchief, thanks."

"Of course not, it's not psychoanalysis," Jon huffs. "You're an empathetic, good sort- it's hardly something I'd need to dig into or analyze." Oh no he complimented someone. He makes a face but continues. "It's a testament to your character, don't complain."

And another face. "I told you I'll clean it." Just going to grumble that.

Martin rolls his eyes, but there's something decidedly fond about the gesture. "I can't believe you asked me if we were friends five minutes ago," he says. "C'mon. Do you race? Bet I can race you to that corner."

Literally a teenage boy.

"I wanted to be sure." Jon answers defensively. How dare, clearly it was a question that needed to be asked and not sort of obvious. "It's not a title you should just throw around." It kind of is though.

Have the most incredulous look. "You want to race?" He seems to consider this for way longer than necessary before, bafflingly, agreeing. "Fine. This is absolutely ridiculous but I hope I don't need to say as much. Racing... honestly." Yet you agreed!!

"You only think it's ridiculous because you're going to lose." Martin shoots Jon a look, something self-satisfied and amused, before he books it. He'll probably try to race him the entire way home.

"I am not, and even if I did it's because your legs are- Martin!" Jon was too busy huffing to notice the running right away. He books it immediately at well and he definitely, definitely loses and grumps about it later.

Dinner goes fine, as does the rest of the week. There are no further encounters with bullies; Martin spends as much time pestering Jon as he does helping his Gram; and by the time Saturday arrives, he's excited for the movie night.

He's still excited for the movie night when Saturday hits, too, but it comes on the tail end of an Argument with his mum and his step-dad both, one that leaves him wounded and bitter and frustrated all at the same time. He's late, but he's the one with the tickets, and so he's out of breath when he arrives, fishing them out of his pockets and shoving one at Jon when he finds him.

"Sorry," he says, but there's a tension in his jaw, an uncomfortable way that he isn't quite looking at Jon. "We've probably only missed some previews."

To say Jon was getting testy was an understatement, and as he stood infront of the theater it was pretty clear to anyone who got a good look at him. He glowered at the ground, his initial irritation at Martin cutting it close melting to something a little too much like hurt to make him comfortable. He didn't want to believe Martin had pulled some sort of bait and switch just to mock him, why would he? He never seemed the type, and in the days leading up to the movie he had been normal, maybe even more present in Jon's life than he had ever been.

It would be incredibly underhanded if this was all some joke, and despite his paranoia Jon didn't want to believe it so easily. He was late and he was definitely not getting any candy. The bribe failed.

When Martin did show up Jon was more than ready to give him a piece of his mind, an urge that withered when he saw the strange tension Martin was carrying. He took the ticket, baffled, before recovering and finding his own frustration mostly knocked out of him.

"Yes, well... good. Go get us seats and I'll forgive the tardiness, I'll get the popcorn." He didn't mind missing previews, or even the beginning. He said he'd get popcorn and by god he was getting popcorn. He did stop to give Martin a long look. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Or- no, really, I'm not fine, I just don't want to talk about it right now, okay? I'll be fine. It's stupid." He feels himself growing embarrassed when someone who passes by casts him a sidelong glance, and he swallows hard. "Thanks for the popcorn, I'm going- I'll get us seats."

And then, embarrassed, he ducks into the hallway, heading for the theater. When Jon eventually follows, he'll find it mostly empty, save for a few clusters of people who seem to be purposefully sitting as far away from each other as possible. Martin will be in the back, slumped down into his seat.

Jon watches him go, frowning slightly. Was this the sort of situation he went along with or was he supposed to push him into talking? He sighs and goes to get the popcorn, deciding he could choose after the movie. They wouldn't really have much of a chance to talk then anyway if they weren't being assholes.

He does buy candy, despite his severe warning about tardiness. Sue him.

When he reaches the theater he makes a b-line for Martin, frowning to himself at the slump. Boy, his curiosity was killing him but he had to refrain. He takes his seat, but not before pulling something from the popcorn bucket and dropping it on Martin's lap. It is a bag of M&Ms or whatever british people eat. Smarties? Who knows. Then he takes a seat, placing drinks in the holders and setting the popcorn within easy reach.

"The movie has mixed reviews." Yes, he looked this up. "Frankly I find that the most interesting type, assuming the reviews are genuine and the good ones aren't corporate pay offs."

Martin looks down at the bag of chocolate in his lap, uncomprehending. The trailers are over, the lights are dimming, he really shouldn't keep talking, but- "I thought you said you were getting Red Vines?"

Jon glances over before settling in his chair, feeling ridiculously like he was caught doing something embarrassing. "You like chocolate better, don't you? You're always snacking on it." That was just logical, okay. He wasn't even sure why it mattered to him, just Martin looked upset and he didn't care for it so he took measures to help. Simple. Definitely no strange feelings involved at all, just like the bully thing.

He grabs his drink just for something to do. Being social was confusing trial, obviously.

"Yeah, I do, I just thought-" Martin trails off, tongue-tied, because he isn't sure what he thought. Something, for sure, but nothing he can pin down right now. At the moment? He's just - grateful. For the movie, for the chocolate, for Jon in general, and he takes a careful breath as he tears the bag open and eats a few pieces of the candy. "Talk later," he murmurs when the film cuts him off by having the audacity to begin, and he sinks down in his seat again. He's watching, but it's clear that he's not really paying much attention, at least for the first half.

Jon nods, curious about what Martin was going to say but certainly not enough to push it as the movie started. It was easier for him to pay attention, the movie caught his interest even if it was hardly a masterpiece by any means. Despite that he can't help occasionally glancing over to Martin as duller parts happened, wondering why he was so damn concerned. Of course the behavior was atypical, but Martin wasn't injured and he still came, albeit being a little late. Being slightly concerned was only natural but the fact it was dwelling so much on the edge of his mind seemed excessive.

Still, the movie was decent enough his attention was mostly fixed. He even chuckled at a few parts, leaning back into his seat as some stupid tension resolved and shaking his head. Truly the protagonist was a complete fool, walking into so many dangerous situations without much of a plan. Badumtish.

Of course that easing made the slight jumpscare all the worse, making Jon jolt slightly and grasp and Martin's arm without thinking. He quickly pulled his hand away, clearing his throat and muttering, "Sorry, sorry."

Martin watches a surprising amount of scary movies - they're about the most thrilling thing he does, really. So this movie, while certainly not bad, doesn't really do much to frighten him. Even stuck as far in his head as he is, he can see the jump scare coming a mile away - it's Jon grabbing his arm that makes him jolt in surprise.

He glances sideways at him, expression lost for a moment, before he wordlessly reaches over and grips Jon's wrist in turn. Martin's fingers are tight - not painfully so, but firm - and he stares straight ahead, face impassive, as if pretending he isn't doing that.

Jon was attempting to squash down his embarrassment when Martin grabs his wrist. It makes him glance over, almost expecting it to be some sort of comforting gesture but Martin wasn't moving and Martin wasn't looking at him. He stares for a beat, lost on what exactly Martin was doing, before settling again and easing up, not moving from Martin's grip.

Maybe Martin was just upset enough to want some kind of comfort himself, he decided, and struggles a moment with the idea of sliding his arm down so their hands would be linked instead. That would be- well that clearly would be too much, wouldn't it? That was the sort of thing couples at movies did, and that thought sends him into quite the confused storm of emotions.

Being a teenager is hard.

Ultimately he relaxes, shifting slightly closer to Martin whether he noticed it or not. It was a little harder to concentrate on the movie but it was... nice. Somehow. That was another thing to dissect soon.

He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be holding onto Jon's wrist like he's some sort of child seeking reassurance. Martin swallows down a sigh after a few minutes, before he squeezes Jon's wrist and releases him.

He doesn't let his hand go far, though.

"Creepy movie, huh," he whispers, his voice flat, though he's clearly trying to interject sincerity into it.

It took a moment for Jon to realize yes, he was disappointed Martin let go. It was nice on several levels- human contact was somewhat rare for him and a pleasant change, the fact he could in some small way perhaps help Martin feel better without bumbling over it was pleasant to. He tries to imagine, for a moment, if it would feel the same with someone else.

It wouldn't, and that was terribly confusing. Even back when Tim was very nearly a friend he imagines this sort of behavior would annoy him at best or make him wildly uncomfortable at worst.

"Ah-" Jon was somewhat glad for the distraction, resisting the urge to clear his throat. "No, it's rather daft, honestly. Enjoyable though." He whispers back, even though that jumpscare totally got him. His hand doesn't move either, and he continues quietly. "I'm glad I came."

Martin fidgets again in his seat, wondering briefly what he's doing. He should have postponed, he should have done- little anything else, anything that wasn't dragging Jon with his mopey, upset self into the theater. The fact that Jon was having a good time made it worse, in a way.

He makes an unhappy little noise without meaning to, before he gives up and grabs at Jon's hand with his own, because fuck it. He's still looking straight ahead. His voice is a little tight when he says: "It's alright if you hate it. I'm - it's not gonna hurt my feeling." He's not just talking about the movie.

The noise throws Jon off, what did he say? Maybe Martin really did like the movie and insulting it upset him? That was a rather intense response, so he thought, and before he could consider it anymore Martin was grabbing at his hand.

He doesn't bother trying to hide his stare this time, shocked but not moving away. His mouth recovers before the rest of him, unfortunately. "I don't hate it, I mean it's a little try hard to be sure but-" His stare moves to their hands, and he doesn't find it all that difficult to carefully intwine their fingers. He's struck with the ridiculous feeling he's crossing a line by doing so, as though Martin hadn't initiated it for crying out loud.

"I meant what I said. I'm having a good time." He says after a beat, glancing to Martin before hurriedly looking back to the movie. Someone was clearly not just talking about the movie too and completely lost with what was happening.

Jon twines their fingers together and to his humiliation, Martin can feel his eyes prick with tears of pure relief when he does. He doesn't know what this means - if it means anything at all - but he's suddenly glad to be here.

"Yeah, sorry, thanks," he mumbles out, pretending that his voice isn't a little embarrassingly thick. "It's a pretty alright movie. I'll stop talking, though, we're probably getting on those people's nerves."

Spoilers: yes, they were.

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