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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I mean, I won't bring it up on my own, but if she asks me - I don't know why you're embarrassed to say you got it standing up for someone."

He's digging through his bag now, before he pulls a clementine out and begins to peel it with his fingers.

"Who were they talking about, anyway? Anyone I know?"

"Ugh, you're useless. Can't you just say you don't know?" Jon sighs, not all that surprised but here they were. "I don't care about the reasoning behind it, I just don't need to give her another reason to constantly question my social life, thank you."

Oh boy. Jon clears his throat, and in the most obvious lie ever says, "... no. Not at all."

"Well, I mean, if I say that, she's just going to ask me to find out, seems like a lot of lies layered on lies, you know?"

And speaking of lies - that last one he gives doesn't convince Martin in the least.

"--who was it, Jon? Was it you? Were they saying things about you?" He's Unhappy.

"What, really? Lord, she's so nosy." Jon sighs, leaning back against the wall. "I'll just avoid her until it heals, problem solved." Not really but he could dream.

Again Jon is surprised, brow raising. "What? No, why would I care? They're always talking nonsense about me, I got used to it in grade school." He rolls his eyes before giving up with a soft exhale. "Fine, just- it was you, they were talking about your mother. I don't think it will spread but if you hear anything I guess you'll at least be prepared."

"They were - but what were they even-"

Martin's hand fumbles slightly with the clementine, and he can feel his own face heating up in a sudden surge of embarrassment. He suddenly can't really make himself look too closely at Jon.

"That's why you made me hide?"

"Just the sort of nonsense teenage boys say, it isn't worth repeating." Jon answers tersely, because yeah you can imagine the sort of stuff teenage boys say about mothers. He wasn't sure why they decided to rag on Martin all the sudden, or if they even had the slightest idea that Martin's mother was less than ideal, but regardless it had grated on him quickly.

"Well... yes. You know running away can actually be a terrible response? Giving chase triggers aggression in people, which ultimately makes getting caught worse. They've done studies of it in animals enough though I'm sure there's enough cases of police brutality after a long chase to give good data." He pauses then clears his throat. "... anyway, the point is if they caught up and you were there you'd likely try to help or defuse the situation, they'd likely say what they were saying and- I'm sure it's obvious what a mess it would have been. They would have targeted you to some extent if they've decided to spread nasty rumors."

"Oh."

His face flushes a little darker then, and then when he glances at Jon, it's clear that he's focuses on the injury to his lip. He frowns slightly, hesitantly picking his clementine back up, even as he seems to withdraw just a little into himself here.

"Um- thank you. For- standing up for me, I guess. You didn't have to do that."

"... no, I suppose not, but I'm sure you would have done it for most people." Jon deflects, awkward and obviously not used to this sort of thing. He regards Martin for a few moments, neatly but nervously folding the handkerchief now that it wasn't needed.

"You... seem upset. Did I do something wrong here?" He finally asks, genuine in his confused concern. "I'm sure they'll drop these rumors, if you're worried about it. I think it was more passing nasty comments for whatever reason, not an attack." And now they'd probably talk about him being a crazy loser or whatever.

"What? No, no, you didn't- it's just embarrassing, that's all. I'm not- I really don't care if people talk about me, Jon. It's not like they could possibly know the circumstances or whatever, you know? And just, I guess--"

Martin shrugs his shoulders, before he peels out a piece of clementine and offers it over to Jon.

"I wasn't always so nice to you, either. Before I knew you. Said some mean things before I figured out you weren't the giant arse I thought you were, you know? So - sorry, belatedly, I think."

"Oh." Jon answers eloquently, regarding the offered clementine slice a moment before taking it. He considers it a moment, and his own response. "Well that's understandable, I know I'm considered rather unbearable. To be fair I assumed you would be like the last person my grandmother hired and, perhaps, wasn't very fair in my treatment of you from the get go."

He glances over, brow raised. "Apology accepted, I suppose. It's rather ridiculous if you truly feel bad about it anyway, you've been fair for a while now- unless you're talking behind my back, which I doubt." Nice.

"You're still talking like an old man, you know," Martin says with a little half-smile, relaxing slightly against the wall. "You're allowed to use slang and stuff." He eats a segment of the clementine, if only to stall more than anything else, before he crosses his legs and sort of digs idly through his bookbag.

"Was the last person she hired an arse or something? Doesn't seem like she'd put up with that sort of thing."

"I use slang on occasion." Jon answers, eyeing Martin a moment before deciding whatever was wrong had settled. Good. He wasn't entirely sure why he cared but here they were. "I said ass, didn't I?" That's a curse word you butt.

He sighs, finally taking a bite of that clementine before answering. "He wasn't stupid enough to pull anything in front of her, unfortunately. We didn't get along to put it simply." Extremely simply. After a beat he looks back to Martin. "Why does your mother need you tonight anyway?"

"Oh, uh- she doesn't need me for anything? Um- she and Jacob-" His step-father. "-aren't really getting along right now, and I think she's a little lonely? Or maybe just jealous. I dunno."

He leans his head back against the wall, eating a segment of fruit.

"I'd rather be at your place, honestly."

"I see... well, come for dinner then." Jon says, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. "I hardly see why you should shoulder the burden her emotional needs when she clearly needs to work something out with this man."

He considers a moment more before continuing, "You can use this as an excuse, if you need it. Make it sound more dramatic than it was."

"I'm not going to lie to my mum," Martin says with a huff, as if he hadn't just sort of suggested that he might sneak out to head over before. "But- I mean, if your Gram really was hoping for help with dinner... I could bring some home for her. That'd be a fair trade, wouldn't it?"

"Now who sounds ridiculous? You're a teenager, Martin, a white lie to go eat dinner with a little old lady rather than staying home is exceptionally tame." Jon rolls his eyes, but yeah, that was Martin as far as he's seen. "And she is, so there you go, your integrity is in tact. Thank god, if not you'd truly be walking down the path of sin with this deception."

Martin rolls his eyes at that, finishing off his piece of fruit before he stands up and chucks the peel into a trash can. He glances toward the door, offering Jon a hand to help him to his feet. "Come on, then. I can't imagine they're still there."

Jon pauses for a brief moment before taking the offered hand, using the leverage to pull himself up. "No, I would hope not. If they're that dedicated it would be frightening."

He shifts his bag, regarding the bloody handkerchief before looking back to Martin. "I'll get this clean and return it, unless you'd prefer it back now." And then, after a longer pause he speaks again. "... thank you. For the handkerchief." And caring on some level at all, but that was far too awkward to say.

"It's just a handkerchief, Jon, don't worry about it," Martin says with a half-smile, completely and utterly missing any of the nuance in the gratitude. "Why don't you just keep it? They come in like three packs, I'm honestly fine."

He scrubs his fingers through his hair, cracking the door open to peer outside, and then-

"All clear. We should be safe to escape."

"I'm hoping I won't need it again for anything like this." Jon settles for. He feels like his intended thank you may have been missed but clearly there was nothing he could do about it.

He sighs and follows to the door, glancing around himself before heading out. The silence was comforting, the halls tended to echo when they were this empty so it was fairly unlikely anyone was even remotely nearby. "Good, what a load of nonsense that was. I lost my math notebook too, wonderful." He'd have to, shock and dread, ask another human for notes. Horror. He hikes his backpack up higher, ignoring this most tremendous of tasks for the moment. "I suppose we'll be parting ways then, unless you plan on coming right over."

"Sorry about that," he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck and casting a sheepish sideways look to Jon. "You could borrow mine if you'd like. I'm probably not exactly on your level of note-taking, but I imagine it'd be better than nothing."

He clear his throat, humming thoughtfully then. "I mean... it'd be irresponsible of me to let you walk home by yourself, wouldn't it?" He seems to be hoping that Jon will back him up here.

Frankly Jon was kind of expecting Martin to want to escape the second he had the chance, given Jon had dragged him into some ridiculous nonsense out of the blue. He blinks but finds yeah, he certainly didn't mind having company on the walk home.

He does huff though. "I don't need an escort, I'm not that helpless." He mutters then straightens. "But it would make sense, strength in numbers and all that."

Just say yes you butt.

It helped that the nonsense that Jon dragged him to had everything to do with actively protecting him, so, well - Martin finds it hard to mind. Really, he doesn't mind spending time around Jon at all. He's a pretty decent fellow, all things considered.

"Jon," he says, tone amused, "you really are something else, you know? Come on. I hate keeping your Gram waiting."

"What does that mean exactly?" Jon asks, which he's pretty sure Martin doesn't mean it in a bad way so he mostly sounds like he's grumbling. He follows though, refusing to admit it was a lot less stressful to travel after all that with someone there.

As they walk Jon contemplates this, glancing to Martin. "Also you're one to talk. I didn't expect you to be so ready for a row."

Martin actually flushes at this, the tips of his ears turning pink. "I wasn't ready for a row, but- I couldn't just let them gang up on you. Especially not if you were only fighting with them because of me in the first place."

He reaches up, gently - playfully - shoving at Jon's upper arm.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject