ellieet: (Fandom Canyon!)
[personal profile] ellieet
Okay, first exam was today and after that was over and done with, I thought, "I have food and a birthday present to buy, I have to find my wallet, I have to pack for nipping home for a couple of days! But priorities first! Let's go back to bed, watch Beautiful People and finish this fanfiction!"


Title: Protection
Fandom: Beautiful People
Pairing: Simon/Mickey
Summary: "Simon is, it has to be said, a really nice guy."
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Series 2, Episode 6, How I Got My Gash.


Simon is, it has to be said, a really nice guy.

It’s odd really, because he looks at Mickey with those bright eyes and that vibrant smile and it’s like he doesn’t even care that he’s spent the last few days making his life a misery. Mickey doesn’t realise just how much that hurts until later and it’ll keep hurting him every time he thinks about it; Simon’s shy grin is the punch that Mickey knows he deserves because the only remotely good thing he’s done this week is unlocking that drum-room door.

He’s been a complete twat, hasn’t he; he’ll curl up tight in bed later, completely angry with himself as he remembers it all, wishing he could just squeeze it out of his system. For now though, he just guides Simon inside after his fall, his hand creeping out to hold his under Kylie’s scrutinising gaze as Mrs Doonan clears up the gash. And Simon squeezes Mickey’s fingers, smiles faintly at him, lets him know it’s okay when he’s the one who’s injured.

The next Monday after it’s all over, when he’s spent the weekend ignoring Jason’s mates’ phone-calls, he turns up at Simon’s house early and when he comes out and sees him there, he looks – for probably one of the worst seconds of Mickey’s life so far – uncertain, wary and really who can blame him? But then he realises that it’s just the two of them and Mickey lets him ride on his bike to school; just like he wouldn’t leave his side after his fall – especially not with that moron Jason in the house – he doesn’t leave his side today if he can help it and even when they’re split up for different classes, it’s like he’s got himself into this kind of mood where he can’t stop thinking about him.

It’s a good day, a new start, even with Jason’s mates throwing spit-balls at the back of his head because of his overnight turnaround back into himself. That he can take.

But coming out of his last class of the day and seeing Simon being targeted by two of them in the corridor – that he won’t.

He doesn’t really know what he’s doing; all he knows is that he has to help Simon because this can’t happen, not again and pushing between Simon and the Knobhead Who Will Remain Nameless (just because he could never really remember their names while he was hanging about with them) he doesn’t have time to think, doesn’t really want to as he smacks the bully right in the jaw.

It’s the best feeling in the world, Kylie’s high laughter and applause filling his ears as the said Knobhead backs away, shocked and hurt with a taste of his own medicine, while Simon just stands there grinning at him and just for a few seconds, it’s like it's all Mickey can see.

Okay, so the headmistress chooses that moment to walk through the corridor.

Okay, so all she sees is Mickey throwing the punch.

And okay, yes, Mickey’s marched off to her office while the two bullies make a dash for it.

‘Sorry,’ Simon mouths, looking so unexplainably frantic and guilty even though he’s done nothing wrong and Mickey just winks at him, feeling bolder than perhaps he should be because deep down, he knows how bad this looks. He just can’t bring himself to care.

He doesn’t say sorry because he isn’t, not when it’s for Simon. And he can’t promise he won’t do it again because he would; he really would if it meant those idiots would just leave Simon alone.

It does kind of bother him, however, that the headmistress decides to spend three quarters of an hour trying to dig deep into his psyche and figure out his anger issues when the only issue Mickey has is that boys like him and Simon and Kylie can’t express themselves without making someone else angry to the point where he was too scared to make a stand. When they’re taunted in the playground with names like Queer and Faggot, when they’re deliberately barged into in the corridor, when a private letter to someone they like and that they can’t decide whether to send or not because it might be embarrassing falls out their locker at the wrong moment and it’s scooped up into the tobacco-stained hands of completely the wrong person.

‘Are you alright?’ Simon accosts him at the bike-sheds, a slow forty five minutes later and Mickey can only smile at him; partly because he’s relieved to see that he’s okay, but also because it’s sort of like the effect he has, somehow, but also because he likes being treated as a hero, rather than feeling like some bad guy in the mornings.

‘I’m fine,’ he unlocks his bike and gives him a look, eyes rising to the stark gash on his forehead and remembering what happened... or almost happened, just before he got it. ‘Are you?’

Simon nods, just staring at him for a minute and it’s like they’re back on the roof; one of the best evenings of Mickey’s life because of the adrenaline, of feeling like he could take on the world and also because he got to watch Simon’s mum walloping Jason for six.

It’s probably because of that, the feeling still so recent which spent the weekend stealing his sleep that makes Mickey feel that little bit bolder and he places a palm up against a spot on the wall next to Simon’s head, sheltering him because he just feels comfortable enough, secure enough, to do that with him of all people.

‘It’s sort of worth it,’ he tells him, reaching out with his other hand, his fingers almost hankering for Simon’s as they web together firmly, their palms pressing into one another and it still feels a bit new, but also kind of nice.

Alright, Mickey thinks, so he'll have to go home in a bit and tell his Mum and Dad that after one week at his new school, he’s got a letter and a warning for "misbehaviour."

So what?

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