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“Hey asshole!”
Two words commonly not combined to kick off a relationship of any positive kind. And yet, they were the only warning Hunter Clark got before it punched him in the face. Literally.
“What the fuck?” He had said, almost reflexively.
Chris Breckenridge, or Dyce, didn’t answer that question, instead electing to continue shouting. “Why are you so mean to Amelia?”
It was only fifth grade at the time, on the playground during recess, but Hunter was already a jerk. Hence his bullying of the aforementioned Farrow-Garcia girl, and his general disdain for just about everyone.
“She’s a girl.” He said, simply. It was answer enough for him, but the same didn’t seem to be true for the boy confronting him.
“And?”
“And she’s annoying!” The Clark was growing annoyed himself.
“No she’s not.” Chris denied.
Hunter insisted. “Yes she is.”
“No she’s not!”
“Yes she is!”
Dyce hit Hunter again, knocking him to the ground and that shut him up. “No, she’s not. Now apologize to her.”
“Why would I do that?”
Hunter’s attacker brought up his fist again, and that shut the aforementioned boy right up. The two stared each other down for a moment more, disdain burning in both’s eyes, before Hunter finally conceded.
With a roll of his eyes, and a whole lot of sass, he spoke. “Fine.”
So, however begrudgingly, he did as promised. He said sorry to Amelia, told her that girls weren’t stupid or weak, and, after a strong glare from Dyce, agreed that dance wasn’t lame. It was done. Therefore, when the interaction came to a close, Hunter assumed that would be the end of it.
Except it wasn’t.
Chris Breckenridge just seemed to be everywhere from there on out, watching him. Policing everything he did, making sure he wasn’t mean to anyone. Rearing up his fist when Hunter was. Even on his sick days, if something happened there would be punishment the moment Dyce got back.
After a month of this, Hunter finally broke and asked. Or, more accurately, yelled.
Whipping around and stalking through the snow to Chris’ watching place, a few yards away, he screamed out. “Why do you keep following me around?!”
“Because you aren’t mean to anyone that way.”
“Can’t I just promise you I won’t be mean?” Hunter half-begged, frustration leaching into his tone.
“You’d just break the promise.”
“No I wouldn’t!” He yelled again.
“Yes, you would.” The calmness that Dyce handled the situation with was unparalleled in how infuriating it was to Hunter. It made his next statement paired with hot, angry tears.
“Maybe I wouldn’t be so mean if you let me talk to anyone, then! I can’t even talk to Eva without you glaring at me!”
At that, Chris’ expression softened. “Sorry.”
“Just stop looking at me all the time.”
Instead of agreeing to, Dyce just introduced himself. “I’m Chris. I like the color blue.”
“I’m Hunter. Green is better.”
So the spectator did not stop watching the young Clark. Instead, he just got a bit closer while he did so.
After all, there was no point in keeping a friend so far away.
-
By the time high school hit, everyone in Witherburn knew exactly who to call if Hunter started being a jerk.
No matter what class it was, where it was, or who it was, if the Clark started to get aggressive or generally dick-ish, Dyce would be there to stop him. Typically by manner of physically picking him up and taking him out of the situation. Since Hunter was 5’6, and Chris 6’1, it was easy for the latter to just whisk the former away from any confrontations, if the need arose.
It was following one of those such confrontations that the Clark began to realize just how much he enjoyed having his friend yell at him.
“Come on Hunter!” Dyce had whined, setting him down a few halls over from where the argument between the aforementioned boy and some other student that neither truly even knew the name of had erupted.
“He shoved me!”
“You can’t just start a fight with every boy who elbows you! And don’t-”
Chris continued on, lecturing Hunter on his bad habits, but for one no rebuttal formed within the latter’s head. Instead, all he could seem to focus on was the former’s lips. The flush on his cheeks. How suddenly-appealing he seemed.
“Do you get it?”
“Yeah, yeah.” The Clark mumbled noncommittally, ignoring his own blush and starting to wander off as the warning bell rang. “I’ll do my best.”
-
It seemed that last statement was a lie, though, because from there Hunter just seemed to get into more and more trouble. Starting conflicts over petty insults, even just wrong looks. In the following week alone, Dyce had to break up eight meaningless fights. It was on the ninth that the taller boy finally broke.
“What’s going on with you?” He demanded, staring Hunter down just as he had so many years ago. “You’ve been trying to throw hands with everyone this week. Not even just the usual people, either. Hell, until today, you hadn’t fought with Amelia since the fifth grade!”
“Yeah, well, she hasn’t been such a bitch since the fifth grade either.”
At that, Chris damn near growled with frustration, shoving the Clark up against a locker. Somehow, miraculously missing his furious blush.
“Why do you insist on being such a brat?”
“...you’re cute when you yell.” Hunter mumbled, sounding just about smitten. Then, after a moment, his pupils dilated, and fear took over his voice. “Shit.”
Dyce froze. “What?”
The man pinned down took advantage of that, slipping away and beginning to run towards his next class before anything more could be said. Repeating that same cuss underneath his breath over and over.
By the time Chris got the chance to call out for him to wait, he was long gone.
-
For the next week, the shorter if the two avoided the taller like the plague. Speed-walking away from, running away from, even actively diving out of the way of Dyce, just to postpone the two of them talking. After the second day of (admittedly pretty impressive, actually) escapes, Chris gave up on catching him. That was how it was supposed to stay.
Except, well, Hunter couldn’t stay out of arguments forever. Additionally, even if everyone knew by now that there was something wrong between the two, that didn’t mean that anyone was ready to take a verbal beating from the Clark. So, regardless of everything going on, when Hunter started getting on Ivy’s case, people called Dyce.
And who was the gamer to ignore their requests?
So, after by some miracle catching the shorter boy from behind and carrying him off, the taller did as he usually did.
“You have to stop getting in these fights, Hunter, honestly. You’re never going to get into college or make any other friends if you don’t stop constantly fighting with everyone! They’re gonna put it on your permanent record soon, so you really have to–”
“Why are you acting like everything is normal?!” The boy being yelled at interrupted.
Chris just shot him a glare and shushed him. “You really need to-”
“No, why are you just acting like–?!”
Dyce shoved Hunter up against a locker once more, and he didn’t even have enough time to get angry before lips were crashing against his, and all thoughts left his head. He bluescreened.
“Shut up.” The gamer demanded, his breath ragged, pinning his now maybe more than friend against the wall with more than just a look before returning to enthusiastically making out with him.
After a minute or so, the two properly broke for air.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that.” Hunter breathed, gazing up into Dyce’s eyes with a certain hunger.
“Damn.” The gamer returned, cracking a smile. “Got me asking what we are and shit.”
The Clark’s eyes darkened slightly, and his expression turned more hurt. He started to try and move himself out of the half-embrace before he was once more fastened in place by another kiss.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. Though, seriously, where do you want to go with this?”
“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to being your boyfriend, if you’d like?” Hunter offered in a way that Dyce knew from a damn lot of experience was the most vulnerable the boy got.
He grinned. “Indubitably.”
“Shut up, asshole.”
“Hey!” Chris chided lightly, feigning hurt and placing another peck to his newly-named boyfriend’s lips as he helped him back up from where he had been leaning. Hunter didn’t say anything back, then, instead choosing to just smile.
It seemed that even if punching was no longer on the table, Dyce would find a way to keep him quiet.