Lexington High joke fics — Scene 7: the hero
Hsin was so impressed with his own restraint when it came to not allowing Douchebag Trovosky to be killed, that he had expected to be immediately commended by his peers.
When that didn’t happen he cut the whole next day, and stayed in his room smoking loosies and wondering when someone would give him a pat on the back for doing the right thing. Probably never. Being a hero was completely overrated. It occurred to him that he should have waited until the last possible moment to intervene on the plot. He could have swooped in to stop the likely inept-assassins, but only after letting Trovosky get roughed up a little. Boyd would have seen the whole thing, and likely would have reassessed his bullshit pro/con list. Hsin was positive that it was what his father would have done.
The thought of his father prompted Hsin to get out of bed and investigate the state of his apartment. All was quiet, but that didn’t mean it was safe. He looked around warily, tugging loose jeans up his hips and wondering if it was clear to raid the fridge. The door had barely hissed open when in walked Counselor Fucking Carhart, barefoot and half-dressed with a goofy-ass smile on his stupid face.
“For the love of fuck.”
“Hsin!” Carhart did a double take as if he couldn’t believe that Hsin was standing in his own kitchen. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here, you fucking nimrod. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I–er.” Carhart had the decency to look chagrined, although it still wasn’t all that decent when Hsin was getting an eyeful of his pecs. “I thought you were at school.”
“Why aren’t you at school?”
“I convinced him to play hooky.” A pair of olive-complected, muscular arms slid around Carhart’s bare torso. Emilio sent his son a dazzling smile and didn’t seem at all concerned about the way he was stalking around in skimpy red underwear or that his hair was wild and sticking out everywhere. His eyes were practically twinkling. It was overboard disgusting, but Hsin couldn’t be too annoyed since it was the most thrilled he’d ever seen his father while sober.
“You’re going to make me have to see a real counselor soon, Counselor.”
“Hsin, it’s not–”
Hsin turned and walked out of the kitchen without bothering to listen to the rest of whatever prepared spiel Carhart had floating around in his head. When he was in the hallway, it occurred to him that he should have just gone to his room, but it was too late. He wasn’t about to go waltzing by that nauseating spectacle again. He’d rather rim Trovosky without a dental dam.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Hsin headed towards the school. It was nearing the end of the day and he knew Boyd was in Study Hall–probably alone since everyone normal cut Study Hall. Hsin wasn’t particularly prepared to be rejected yet again, but he figured the whole hero thing might be worth some credit on his boyfriend résumé. If not, intervening had barely been worth it.
A woman with three screaming toddlers hustled by, and Hsin wondered how it would feel to knowingly let someone die. It seemed nearly as bad as doing it yourself, even if you hadn’t planned it. He didn’t know if he was totally cool with having Trovosky’s blood on his hands, even if he was a douche. As far as douches went, Trovosky wasn’t even a grade A. Harry Truman, on the other hand, would have improved society dramatically if he died.
The large concrete structure that was Lexington High came into view when Hsin rounded a corner. Ryan Freedman waved enthusiastically from a dark green car nearby. The driver was an older woman with dark hair and the same enormous indigo eyes as Ryan. She was probably picking him early from school. Again.
Hsin kept walking and pulled his hood over his face. He has absolutely no desire to speak to any human unless that human’s name was Boyd.
“…and then he said not to worry, because–“
Boyd sighed. He didn’t mean to. It was supposed to be a silent sigh, like the three he’d already done in Emma’s soliloquy. But it was out there and she fell quiet. Her big blue eyes turned worried and she leaned against the edge of the table with her forearms.
“Hey.” One of her hands landed on Boyd’s wrist with a squeeze. “You doing okay?”
He barely resisted the urge to sigh again. First Ryan looking at him strangely, then Luke randomly patting him on the shoulder, and now a wrist squeeze from Emma. He’d had more people acknowledge his existence in one day than in the past eight months and he didn’t even know why.
This sympathy was befuddling him and he didn’t like being befuddled. He liked knowing the answers to all the problems and going from there.
“Why are you sitting here?”
She sounded genuinely confused but he didn’t look up to see if her face matched her tone. He kept his eyes on the text in front of him. It was the fourth time he’d read the same line. Fuck potential energy’s association with conservative force, the only force he wanted to feel right now was Hsin’s lips on his. And anyway that was probably better explained through classical mechanics and surface tension and shit he was thinking of him again.
“Damnit,” he muttered.
He sighed again. This was so pointless. Pro/con list or not, whether something was “for the best” didn’t indicate whether it felt right. In this case, Boyd + Hsin = Ideal. Boyd – Hsin = Sad. The equations were rudimentary. He didn’t even need to involve Delta.
“I think I’ll go study on my own. I’m sure Patrick will be more amenable to your advances when he stops being afraid you aren’t serious. Perhaps you should just ask him out instead of giving passive-aggressive hints. I doubt he understands the meaning of them. Good luck on your test.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open and her cheeks colored but Boyd had already stopped paying attention. He carefully balanced his books along with his bag slung over one shoulder, and retreated to the far corner of the otherwise empty Study Hall.
Even though he told himself not to, he couldn’t resist pulling out his art notebook. Resting his chin on his palm, he flipped through the pages. They were filled with sketches of Hsin. His current favorite was from gym class the other day. The dodgeball competition had been intense, but Hsin had looked amazing. Boyd hovered on one drawing, detailing the definition of the muscles in Hsin’s arm as he’d flexed, ready to throw the ball held in one spread palm. The art of beauty in motion. In that way, Hsin would always be perfection.
Boyd felt someone approach and he sighed heavily. Seriously, why were people suddenly not leaving him alone? He was looking up as he started to talk.
“Emma, I don’t–”
The words died in his throat when he met blazing green eyes. He felt Hsin’s presence like a punch in the gut. A good one, if that were possible. He could already feel his heart pounding giddily at the sight of Hsin alone.
“You should un-break up with me because I saved your stupid friend’s life.” Hsin crossed his arms over his chest, glaring. “Well, that’s my opinion.”
“Douchebag Trovosky,” Hsin said with little patience. “I saved his worthless life from being assassinated. I could have just let him die. Or whatever.”
Boyd’s eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed in confusion. “Why? I thought you hated him.”
“I’m practicing being a good person so that you’ll like me again.”
The words hit Boyd like an impact to the chest. His fingers tightened on the edges of his sketchbook and all the evidence inside of the love he still felt for Hsin.
“So then…” The words were slow at first but grew in intensity. “So then you’re saying I’m not the bane of your existence? I’m not dragging you down? We’re actually– together, we’re becoming better people?”
“What? No, I didn’t say that.” Hsin frowned and moved closer, cautiously, as if worried that he’d startle Boyd if he moved too fast. “Who cares about being better people? I just want to be with you.”
A small smile started on Boyd’s face and quickly grew into a grin. “No, that’s what it means, though! I was so worried we were bad for each other, but if you stopped Kassian from being hurt because of me, then–”
Boyd stood so fast he nearly knocked his chair backwards, and yanked Hsin down into a kiss. It was so sudden their lips almost didn’t quite meet and he went in too fast so it knocked his teeth, but he didn’t care. It was perfect. He pulled away just enough to say happily:
“I want to go out again. I want to be with you, too. I never stopped missing you.”
Hsin still looked slightly uncertain but when Boyd’s smile widened, he returned it hesitantly. “Really? Even though your stupid list said I was, like, not a good boyfriend?”
“I never said you were a bad boyfriend; I worried we were bad for each other. Including me being bad for you.” Boyd rested his hands on Hsin’s sides. It felt so good to touch him again. To be surrounded by his scent. “But you proved me wrong so it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Really?” Hsin’s hands dug into Boyd, gripping like vices, possessive and sure. “Because, you know, I love you or whatever. So. Don’t fuck around.”
This time, Boyd’s smile was practically blinding, and when he kissed Hsin it was much less hectic. “I love you, too.” Another, shorter, kiss. “And I believe in us now, so I won’t want to break up again.”
“Good.” Hsin slid his hand down, twining their fingers. He squeezed. “Wanna go make out?”
Boyd chuckled low under his breath. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He threw his sketchbook and supplies into his bag and then hitched the strap up on his shoulder before they left. Their hands found each other again, and this time didn’t let go.
“I’m still not going to the prom,” Hsin said as they walked to the exit.
“We’ll talk about that… After.”