The Trophy Student - RK1000

The Walk

When their two friends disappeared around the corner, Markus smiled lopsidedly at Simon, and together they lifted Connor to stand between them, arms around either of their shoulders. Gavin trudged away together with the others, and soon they were mostly alone as they made their way down the dimly lit street.

"Where's my..." Connor slurred, eyes still closed as he wobbled forward. "Where's my-my, uh, my beer?"

Markus snorted at the hardly coherent boy. "I don't know." Markus said. "But you'll manage without it."

"Nooo", was the reply, in a tone so sad it actually made Markus' own lips drop a bit. "Wait. Who're you?" He stopped to look between his two escorts, but since his head fell from this side to that, he could clearly not make out their faces.

"Simon and Markus", Simon answered with an amused look as they continued walking.

"Oh." Connor seemed to consider this. "Hi, Simon."

"Hello, Connor."

"Who's the other one again?" Connor's hair was ruffled and for once not styled in his regular neat backslick. Markus admitted he was unfairly adorable for someone who had assaulted a bloke barely ten minutes prior.

"Markus. Senior year."

Connor's unseeing eyes lit up. "The music guy? Yeah, he's-" he hiccuped, "he's hot."

Simon laughed heartily, while Markus' cheeks burned slightly.

"Too bad he's, uuuh, waaay outta my league." At Connor's words, Simon laughed even more.

"What makes you think that?" He asked cheekily, and Markus sent him an angry glare. It felt immoral to get Connor to admit things when he was this wasted. No way was he going to remember any of this, the proof being how hard he was struggling to walk even with the two of them as support.

"He's a-a trophy. Good at music? Uh, famous, too. And hot. Too hot for-for someone like meee."

Markus had to repeat the words a few times before figuring out what he meant. A trophy? As in the gold-medal? Did he believe Markus to be the first prize? A trophy student? Or a trophy boyfriend? His cheeks heated more profoundly than before.

"Connor, please stay quiet", he muttered, when Simon wouldn't stop sending him cheeky grins. "Or speak of something else. Hey, why were you fighting that guy?" He was obviously changing the subject, and this time he did not look at Simon to see what face he pulled on him at that.

"Fight?" Connor almost fell to his knees, but his supporters pulled him up in time. "What fight?"

"You punched a guy named Gavin."

"I did?" His eyes turned big in wonder. "Wow!"

"Was he mean to you?" Markus remembered the comment on Bebop again.

"He's always mean." Connor laughed. It was cute; as raspy as his voice but gentle to the ear. "A r-real douche."

Simon patted Connor's back in encouragement, and they walked quietly for a while. It was cold outside, but the alcohol in his system made Markus warm. He looked at Connor and realised the boy wore nothing but some shirt and a denim jacket. Coming to an abrupt stop, he wasted no time shrugging off his jacket and gingerly pulled Connor's arm through the sleeve instead.

"Are you sure?" Simon asked him. "What if you catch a cold?"

"I'll manage", Markus answered. "Even my shirt is probably warmer than his clothes." It was not true; the dress shirt he had borrowed by Simon was thin, but by now there was no wind and he figured he would be fine.