Prompt: Somebody at school says something inappropriate about you, and Newt retaliates – quite violently...
You weren't one to shy away from people, you could make friends at the drop of the hat and easily hold a conversation with most. Something both you and Newt had in common; befriending those around you without judgement or criticism. So when you heard the shouts and cries from within a circle of boys and girls at school, two in the middle pounding into each other with so much force and anger, you were utterly shocked to see it come from your friend, Newt.
That morning you walk through the halls with only a few of your friends, looking for the rest of your little group, when your friend Teresa decides that you should all check the track team on the oval. You follow Teresa, Brenda and Newt out to the oval and soon spot Minho and Thomas after their morning practice.
Teresa kisses Thomas on the cheek as a welcoming hello, and you find Newt rolling his eyes over at you and their sudden intimacy; you stifle a laugh and instead wave over Minho, who seems to appreciate you guys over the couple.
"Practice okay?" You try to make a little small talk to avoid the awkward scene between Teresa and Thomas.
Minho pushes back his hair from his face, the sweat on his forehead and neck gathering in small droplets, "It was good, other than Thomas' whining about missing Teresa," he laughs.
Newt frowns, "You're kidding? They literally came to school together!"
Minho and Newt start laughing, and you can't help but join in too. Brenda seems to smile mischievously, not wanting to be caught out teasing her other friends.
Minho slings his bag over one shoulder before resting a hand on your arm, "Seriously though, I need you to save me form them. Come to practice more often so I'm not left to third wheel with them in the car ride home."
You flash your teeth with a wide smile, "I'll give you a maybe on that, not sure if I could put up with being in the same car as those two, either."
Minho shakes his head, "Okay, well, you can just come pick me up then?"
"Fine," you sigh, "I'll save you more often, promise."
"I'll see you later then."
You watch as Minho escapes to the boys' shower rooms, and then turn back to Newt and Brenda who seem to be thinking the same thing: both with raised, questioning eyebrows and focused eyes. You only laugh it off.
"Am I missing something?" Newt asks, coming by your side as you three walk down towards your next classes, "some sort of mysterious night with some mysterious guy... Minho?"
You shake your head, "No way," you hide the blush on your cheeks, almost humiliated that Newt of all people would bring up this topic of conversation. And here you thought your likeness towards Newt was completely obvious. "Minho's just a friend."
"Then what was that, planning a friendly date?"
"Hey," you nudge him in the side playfully, "Friends only. Besides, I can't say no to someone victim to Thomas and Teresa's... you know, thing."
"I'm surprised, really," Newt gives you a bit of side eye, "You know. That you're not dating anyone. Literally everyone has a crush on you."
You roll your eyes, "Okay, sure."
"They do! I swear, I here 'em talking about you all the time, it gets so annoying."
"Oh yeah, what do they say?"
He puts on a lighter, dramatic voice, "Oh Y/N is so beautiful, I wish she would notice me! Oh, if only I could ask her to prom! Ohhhh, what a glorious angel she—
You swat at Newt, who seems to dodge your attack, but still spilling his books in the process. "You're such a shank, you know that?"
Newt smiles cheekily, "I do, yes." He collects his books up with ease.
"I'll see you after class, okay?" You wave him goodbye, "And no more impressions, you suck!"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll see you later!"
***
You hear the chanting and the shouting before you see it. A kid from your history class came barrelling into your lesson, excitedly saying something about a full on fight going on down the hall. You followed the others down the hall out of curiosity, hearing the angry voices, recognising one of them. After you pulled people out of the way, you couldn't believe your eyes.
You watch as the blond boy is thrown against one side of the circle, his hair fallen in front of his face, his lip bleeding and his cheek red from impact. Something inside you grows fiery; you can't believe he's involved in something like this!
He takes a second blow and you can't help but cry out, his brown eyes find yours before he angrily pummels into the other guy—some dude you've never seen before. Or at least someone you haven't bothered to remember. Your hands curl into fists as you stare at the incident in front of you, you want to run in and pull them both apart but that would be insane.
The other guy wipes the blood from his mouth and glances at you, a slick smirk spreading across his face, the smeared blood giving the illusion that his smile is a lot wider than it actually is.
Newt shouts at him, "Don't you fucking look at her!" He runs head on into the guy, knocking the wind out of him as he falls to the glossy ground beneath him.
He looks up at Newt before spitting blood onto the floor, it splatters by your feet and you start to feel nauseous. Newt punches the kid in the face, you're not too sure how many times, but frankly you don't care. You can't watch this anymore, and for some reason no one else wants to do anything about it.
You walk into the circle, "Newt!"
He doesn't listen.
"Stop it, Newt, just stop!" You pull at his shoulder, his arm pausing mid-air. He turns back to you, and the cloud of anger fades from his eyes. "He's had enough," you breathe, the crowd slowly dispersing once the action disappears. The unknown kid stalks off, wiping the blood form his face, a sickening grin still plastered on his lips.
"You're so dead, Newton," the boy growls, before disappearing around the corner of the hallway.
Newt breathes slowly, hunched over, the blood dripping from his nose onto the floor. "He deserved it."
You bite the inside of your cheek, not wanting to ask why he thought that guy deserved a pummelling. You understand it's a guy thing, but for Newt to be so physically violent is so unlike him. You've seen him mad before, but he's always the passive aggressive type, or at least, thats what you thought.
"You..." You sigh, grabbing a hold of his shoulder so he stands upright, "I'm not letting you just walk off all bruised and bloodied like that, you know."
He wipes his nose with the back of his hand before a hard sniff, "I'm not going to the nurse."
You look over him again, "Fine, but you're not going back to class like that. Come with me."
He follows you outside to the parking lot, you unlock your old, battered car and order him to get in shotgun. He complies, and soon you're both sitting in your car where it's quiet; where you can help him. You reach over the middle of the car towards the glove box and open it, pulling out a compact first aid kit you keep for... mostly accidents.
You pull out the antiseptic wipes first and gently dab them over the sorest looking parts, where the skin has been pierced and blood spots. He winces or flinches only a couple of times, and finally you roll them up in their packets before ditching them into a plastic bag in the back of the car.
You start rummaging through the kit again, "So, can I ask who punched first?"
Newt scoffs, looking out of the window instead of at you, "I did."
You pause and look up at him again, "Why?'
"Because I did."
"Oh, don't you bullshit me, Newton," you growl, closing the box just for the moment, "I've been your friend way too long to put up with shit from you."
He rests his face into his hand and sighs.
"Why did you punch him?"
"Because he's an asshole."
"Can you please be more specific?"
Newt shoots a minor glare at you, "Because he talked shit about you, okay! In the locker rooms. We were showering and dressing after gym and he said some stuff I didn't like."
You sit back in your chair and stare at your friend, you start to wonder why on Earth he'd be so mad... but it makes sense. Newt is loyal, he always has been. He takes personal offense to things that other people say about his friends.
You pull out a few Band-Aids, "What did he say about me?"
"Not repeating it," he growls, looking away from you. He takes a moment to deeply breathe, to calm the anger and frustration, "Look, I know he's just some guy who you probably don't even really know but... It pissed me off."
You take this chance to push further, "Pissed you off enough to beat the crap out of him?"
He looks back to you, "He objectified and degraded you in front of your friends. In front of me. I can't let that just happen without some sort of consequence!?"
"You were... very angry." You open up one Band-Aid and press it gently over his open skin, "Don't get me wrong Newt, I feel honoured that you so valiantly protected my honour but... You got yourself hurt in the process."
"I can take a few hits."
"Violence is never the answer."
"I was looking out for you! I was... He's not allowed to just walk around and say those things about you!"
You shake your head and pull back to open the other Band-Aid, "I don't want you to get hurt or get into trouble over something as silly as words from people who don't even mean anything to me!"
He quietens down at this, and as you reach over and stick the next Band-Aid on him, he practically whispers, "But you mean something to me, Y/N. That's why. That's the reason why."
You pause, even though the Band-Aid has stuck, and you blink out of confusion and disbelief, at your closeness to him, his closeness to you. "I... I know, of course I know that, we're friends."
He looks closely at you, deciding his next sentence carefully. So calculating, he's always been like that. "You know what I mean... Y/N." He breathes quietly, but you still feel his breath on your skin, "You're mean more than just a friend, to me."
You stare into his eyes, processing what he just said. You want to reply, you want to say something back, to confirm his feelings; to share your own. But the words don't come to mind, they don't pass through your lips. Your hand touches the side of his face ever so gently, aware of his bruised skin, of his protectiveness over you – his willingness to get hurt for you.
You press your lips against his, tasting blood but not caring. He doesn't wince out of pain. You hold his face in your hands as you pull yourself onto his lap, his hands fumble around your waist; up your back. You kiss him deeply; you try to pass on your feelings through this act of intimacy; something you couldn't ever say exactly right in words.
He responds to your kisses, he pulls you closer to him, as close as you both can physically get. Your hands find his hair, his lips find your neck, your breath melds into two; impatient hands, impatient touch – bruised and bloodied but loved and cherished.
You break a part as your mind reminds you where you are and what you're doing, nothing shameful, just new to you. Lots to explore but so much time to stretch that over.
He breathes in and sighs, pushing back his blond, small curls, "That was... unexpected. Bloody fantastic, but unexpected."
You swallow, "I... I didn't know how to put it into words, I'm not like you, I'm not as articulate."
"Thank God you didn't put it into words."
You shove his shoulder playfully, "Oh shush," you pull yourself back into the driver's seat and stare out the front.
"Guess this has taught me one thing, then."
You turn to him, raised eyebrow, "And that is?"
"I should get into fights more often, if that's how you're going to kiss me afterwards."
"Oh for goodness sake, Newt," you slap at his arm playfully but he only laughs. You stop and look at him for a moment, "Don't get into another fight, seriously, I don't want to see you all banged up again because of me. That's not fair."
"Okay, but I can't promise it. If someone says something inappropriate about you, my fists have a mind of their own."
"Newt," you warn.
"Alright, alright, I'll work on my self-control."
You go to open the car door when his hand on your arm stops you, "Yes?" You ask, wondering what ploy he has hidden.
"I said I'd work on my self-control with fighting... not with you." He breathes, an excited, longing look in his deep brown eyes, "There's no way I'm going back to class."
You take in this new Newt that you get to experience. Something you've wanted for a long time now. But you can't just ditch school together, right? Getting into fights and then ditching? You shouldn't encourage that. "Newt, I fixed you up! You have to go back to class!"
"Not after that, I think I want to have another go. You caught me completely by surprise, I need to show you how what I can do, now."
You roll your eyes, but the idea of spending more time with Newt is so tempting... You only have less than half a day left anyway... You push the keys into the ignition and twist so the engine is brought to life, a low rumble and your reversing out of your park – soon driving towards the exit.
Newt sits back into the car seat, "Time to show you some real fun."