Author's Note: Well hi there,
Holy crap, it's been over a year since I've posted anything on this site. Crazy crazy. Anyways, this is my first foray into the Skins world. After hearing about it from a friend last December, I downloaded and watched the first two seasons in their entirety. I was absolutely enthralled.
Needless to say, I fell head-over-heels in love with gay character Maxxie, and his wonderful little subplots (particularly the whole Russia ordeal). Thus I had to write a story about him. So here we are. I don't want to give away too much of the story right now, but I plan on it being very long, so I'll let you guess where I'm taking this story.
A note to my regular readers: I'm horrible, I know. I'm starting yet another story when I've left so many hanging. I'll get to work on them, hopefully. I will admit though, I've lost a lot of motivation to write A Story From East High. I want to continue it, for your guys' sake, and to for my own as well. I did spend an inordinate amount of time planning it out, and I don't want to up and quit on a perfectly good story. Also you might find that, with this story, my writing may be a little sub-par. I think I'm slowly losing the writer part of me, and it's becoming less of a passion and more of a hobby. Which is really unfortunate, but what can you do. Anyways, I felt an obligation to myself to post this, to post something I was actually really inspired to write.
Warning: This story is rated Mature for explicit language and references to underage sex, drug use, and alcoholism. This story also deals with homosexual relations. If any of this bothers you, you are advised to not read.
Spoiler Warning: This story has obvious spoilers for both series 1 and 2 of Skins, and possibly some "Unseen Skins" episodes found online. Spoilers for specific Unseen Skins episodes will listed before each chapter. This story makes no references to series 3 or 4.
Wow I talk a lot. Anyways, my goal is to set out and write a really good fanfiction that does this wonderful and interesting pairing justice. There's a lot to be explored, and I want to explore it. I hope you all enjoy what I've come up with. Without further ado, I present my first Tony/Maxxie story.
Holding On
By tryanforever91
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-Chapter One-
"Okay Max, let's run the second number."
"You got it, chief."
There was never any music during morning rehearsal. Maxxie didn't need it – the songs were constantly looping in his head from hearing them so often. In any case, they were only good for keeping the beat, and Maxxie had the rhythm down to an art. No, he preferred it quiet in the mornings. Well, as quiet as you could get it in an echoey studio with tap shoes on. The quiet helped him focus. There were so many thoughts banging around his head as of late, and what he really needed to do was to focus on nailing this number for the show. When you're flying through a tap routine at 200 beats per minute, you really don't have time to think about how your best friend's turned out to be a hypocritical homophobe, or how you hooked up with your friend's boyfriend on a field trip to Russia. There's nothing else to worry about like getting coursework in or studying for A-Levels. There's only a beat; coursing through your veins and bringing your body to life.
"Maxxie, you're brilliant!"
Holding the final pose for a moment, Maxxie smiled at his coach's reflection in the wall of mirrors in front of him. Panting slightly, he dropped his arms and spun around. "I think I've got it," he said happily.
"Got it? Jesus, you owned that one!" the older man proclaimed. "You're gonna kill on opening night."
"I hope so," Maxxie replied, reaching for a towel on the floor to wipe his face off. As he grabbed a water bottle and took a drink, he glimpsed the time off his watch and started. "Fuck me! I'm going to be late for class!"
"You want a ride, Max?" his dance coach asked, as Maxxie scrambled to get his things together.
"Nah, I like the walk. Gives me a little time to cool off."
"Well have a shower before you go, yeah? I reckon you stink after that performance." Maxxie nodded as he dashed away.
"Will do!" And with that, Maxxie bustled into the showers, stripped down, soaped up, rinsed off and left again, buttoning up his blue and black striped cardigan as he ran out of the dance studio.
The air outside was warm for a morning so late in autumn, but in spite of the fair weather, Maxxie still felt like he was walking under a storm cloud. No longer able to use dance to distract himself, an ocean of problems leaked back into Maxxie's mind, filtering through the walls that caged his thoughts. There were so many things to think, so many questions left unanswered, and an overhanging feeling of confusion that drained Maxxie of all emotion save for anxiousness and utter loss. It was a feeling Maxxie was quickly growing tired of, but answers were so hard to come by these days. It was as if all common sense had been left behind in Russia, leaving Maxxie to fend hopelessly for himself.
The gang touched down at London Heathrow Airport the previous Tuesday at the ungodly hour of five in the morning. After numerous run-ins with the local police, the field trip was cut short, and they were all sent packing. Everyone went home without even knowing what the whole purpose of the trip was.
The seven-hour flight home was a tense and awkward one. Conversation was scarce, and nerves were frayed. It was safe to assume that everyone just wanted to go home and forget that the whole trip even happened. At least, Maxxie was relieved to be back in England. Once they battled their way through customs (Sid miraculously made it through in one piece), the class was given strict orders to report to the college to attend classes as usual. Maxxie had no such intention. He arrived home to his apartment in Bristol some four hours later – horribly jet-lagged and miserable – collapsed onto his bed and slept. He was too exhausted (emotionally and otherwise) to do anything else, and that sleep was quite honestly the most blissful fourteen hours out of the entire trip.
The days at school that followed were dysfunctional at best. Everyone was still getting re-accustomed to their native time zone, and it wasn't uncommon to see someone nodding off during class. Maxxie was holding up well enough, but he was having other problems. He had not had a peaceful moment alone to mull over the million thoughts that were swirling around his head since he got back, and it was impossible to focus on anything other than Tony.
It didn't help in the slightest that Tony was acting as if nothing had even happened during the trip. For the most part, he was being his usual self – goofing off and causing trouble. It unnerved Maxxie. What he really wanted were some answers, but Tony was as mysterious and cryptic as ever.
He finally managed to corner Tony on Friday, before class let out for the weekend. In the hallway by Tony's locker, amongst a sea of other people, Maxxie confronted him.
"Hey, Tony. I wanted to ask you something," he started tentatively. Tony smiled expectantly.
"Ask away, Maxxie my dear." Maxxie tensed.
"Yeah, well, it's about that actually. Y'see, I was just wondering—"
"That's absolutely fascinating, Max," Tony interjected. "Glad we talked. I've got to run now, I hope we can do this again sometime." With that, Tony spun around and made to leave the dumbfounded blond behind.
"No, wait!" Maxxie reached out and grabbed Tony's hand. He wasn't about to let him get away now, after all the agony he had been through. He was absolutely desperate for an answer, and he would be damned if he let Tony get away again.
Tony was still for a second, not wriggling away like Maxxie expected. He turned around to face Maxxie again, making the blond boy jump when he squeezed his hand gently. Maxxie waited in wide-eyed anticipation as Tony opened his mouth to say something. It took him a few seconds.
"I hope," he started slowly, looking square into Maxxie's eyes, "we can do this again sometime." Tony squeezed Maxxie's hand again, and nodded slightly toward his lower regions.
Maxxie gaped at Tony, completely thunderstruck. His muscles slackening, he let Tony's hand slip out of his own. The other boy drifted away slowly, disappearing into the thick crowds until Maxxie was left standing alone beside Tony's locker. He leaned his body against it and let out a long breath. He felt dizzy and out of sorts. His hand was still warm from Tony's touch, and those last words echoed endlessly in his ears. Tony really had a way with him.
It then hit Maxxie: he still didn't have any answers.
"Fuck!"
It was Tuesday again. The weekend did absolutely nothing for Maxxie other than drive him mad with the lack of anything that made sense of his situation. As he walked along the sidewalk from the studio to Roundview College, Maxxie pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and held it between his lips, not even pausing as he lit the end. He took in a long breath; dry, ashy air filling his lungs and calm seeping through his brain.
As it turns out, Maxxie wasn't late for class. Actually, he was early (he tended to walk fast when he was stressed). A knot of his friends were all standing by a tree on the school lawn, horsing around as usual. It actually made Maxxie smile a little, seeing all his friends laughing like they were. He hadn't seen much of that the past week, and it made him feel a little better about things. Tony had just tripped Chris when Maxxie made his way over, chuckling as Chris bumped against his legs. He looked down, smiling at his friend, when he felt two hands on his back.
"Hey Maxxie." The voice was unmistakable. One hand traveled down Maxxie's arm and rested on his hip.
"Mornin', Tony," Maxxie replied. "What are you doing?"
"Shush, Maxxie," Tony said as he snaked his other arm around Maxxie's waist. "I'm trying to do something."
Maxxie looked bewildered. "Yeah? And what's that?" He gasped when he felt a leg slip between his own, and a foot tapping against one of his.
"Move that foot, would you?" Tony ordered. "Spread your feet out a bit."
"Tone, what are you—"
"And put your arm up like that." Maxxie was not sure at all of what Tony was doing, but his hands were all over Maxxie's body, moving it about. "Yeah, that's good. And put your other arm there. No, out further." Tony was now leaning his head over Maxxie's left shoulder, with his arms encircling his midsection and a leg against his, pushing on it.
"What's the big idea, Tone?"
"Sh! Hold that pose, it's beautiful." Tony said. The next second, Maxxie's cigarette was gone from his mouth. Tony had stolen it, and was taking a few good puffs.
"Wh— hey!" Maxxie frowned at Tony, whose face was hovering mere centimetres from his own. "All that for my cigarette?" Maxxie was a little wary of Tony's close proximity. Any closer and they would be cheek to cheek. The heat that radiated off Tony made Maxxie's skin tingle. "You could have just asked, you know."
"Tony Stonem doesn't ask for things. He takes them, by whatever means possible," Tony declared, smirking at the blond. "Besides, this way was a lot more fun, don't you think?" Still smiling, he took the smoke out of his own mouth and placed it delicately back into Maxxie's, detaching their bodies as he did. Feeling Tony's body move away from his own, Maxxie could feel a familiar woozy feeling slowly overtake him.
Kenneth reached over to steal Maxxie's cigarette, blocking his view of someone in a yellow coat who was walking over. Already a little dazed, he was taken fully by surprise when he was pushed aside forcefully, and someone took a swing at Tony.
"YOU DIRTY LITTLE FUCKER! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR TINY TWATTY COCK EVER AGAIN!"
Tony staggered backwards into Chris, looking as shocked as everyone else. He held a hand to his face and looked about in confusion. Looking like he wanted to save face, Tony put on a smile and asked, "What's up, Nips?"
Bam. Kick to the sack. Tony crumpled onto the ground, letting out a loud yelp.
"I was waiting for you to tell me!" Michelle practically screamed. "Time's up, you wanker!"
Maxxie's blood ran cold, and his cigarette fell from his slackened mouth. Michelle knew. Michelle – Tony's girlfriend – knew that they had hooked up during the Russia trip.
"Oh god," he whispered to himself, terrified beyond belief. Maxxie clutched his face as the others swarmed around Tony. This was bad. No, this was beyond bad; this was catastrophic.
"Jesus! What have you done this time?" Jal demanded, but Tony was in too much pain to answer. "Sid?" she barked.
"I dunno," he said earnestly.
"For Christ's sake!" Jal shouted, chasing after Michelle.
Maxxie eyes followed Jal as she ran to catch up with Michelle. He wondered if Michelle would tell her. Actually, Maxxie was afraid she might go and tell the entire school. Something had to be done.
"Tone, sh-shouldn't you, y'know, go after her?" he stammered. He hoped desperately that Tony knew of some way to fix this. Michelle was his girlfriend after all, and it was his bright idea to suck Maxxie off in the first place. He looked pleadingly at Tony.
To his horror, Tony just shrugged and smiled. "She'll come back," he said confidently.
She'll come back?! That's all Tony had to say? Michelle looked ready to burn down the school; Maxxie had little doubt that she wouldn't come back. He stared at Tony in disbelief.
"What?" Tony asked. "You don't trust me?" Maxxie looked at him solemnly.
"No," he mumbled. "I don't." Coming to the horrible realization that Tony was going to be completely useless, Maxxie decided he would have to take things into his own hands. In vain, he begged Tony one last time with his eyes. Tony's blinked, before turning away. Screw him, he wasn't going to help. Maxxie shook his head and stalked off.
As he strode across the green toward Michelle, Maxxie's stomach began to churn, and he could feel his eyes starting to sting. Aw, fucking hell, Maxxie cursed inwardly. Any faith he had in Tony had just been obliterated, and it killed Maxxie inside knowing that Tony was allowing this to happen to him. The two were never best friends, but Maxxie still felt horribly betrayed. He came to Tony because he thought he cared about him. Now Maxxie knew he had been horribly mistaken. He could feel the heat of anger smouldering within him, the same anger that lashed out at Anwar when he "decided to become a Muslim." Maxxie kicked at the ground. Were friends loyal at all anymore?
He found he had been walking faster than Michelle and Jal – his habitual speed-walking at work again – and he slowed down, as to not interrupt what sounded like a heated argument. Looking ahead, Maxxie could see Jal shake her head and turn away from Michelle.
"Cheers, Jal!" Michelle called out. "That's what friends are for, yeah?"
"Whatever, Chelle!" Jal shouted back. Looking quite put-out, she marched off, and Michelle sauntered the other way. Maxxie thought he had found his chance to talk to her, and meekly followed behind as Michelle leaned up against a tree, and slowly slid to the ground.
Approaching slowly and with caution, Maxxie tried to think of what he would say to Michelle. He had to try and convince her not to tell anyone.
"Chelle?"
Michelle let out a small sob. "Go away," she murmured. Undeterred, Maxxie knelt down so he was closer to Michelle's level.
"Please don't tell anyone," he pleaded, his voice strained with dread and remorse. "Everyone will think—"
"Think what, Max?" Michelle spat. "That you're a dirty little slut who fucks around with other people's boyfriends." It wasn't a question. It was a spiteful, icy statement that knifed through Maxxie and shook his resolve.
"I-I'm sorry," he replied pathetically. "I don't know what happened, he just..." Maxxie was trying valiantly to make things sound all right, but he was grasping at straws. "It was nothing," he tried to say assuredly. "Can we just pretend it didn't happen, yeah?"
In spite of himself, Maxxie could feel the hot singing in his eyes worsen, and he did his very best to fight back his tears. What he wouldn't give for Michelle to say yes; to forgive Maxxie and carry on with Tony. Please, he begged in his mind. Please.
Michelle closed her eyes again and shook her head. "Go away," she whispered, resting her head on the tree behind her. Maxxie's insides wrenched, as if Michelle had socked him a good one in the stomach. No, it couldn't be like this. He wanted to make her understand! He didn't want to go away; he could beg all day if that's what it took.
Michelle clearly was not going to have any of it, though. Although he didn't want to accept the fact, maybe it was for the better if Maxxie just took her advice. Rationalizing with her seemed like a fool's errand. He wasn't going to sway her. Not now, at least. Trying to collect himself, Maxxie pulled himself upright and slowly walked away from Michelle, trying to quell the gnawing feeling of failure in his gut.
As he walked away on stilted legs, the gnawing sensation gave way to a numbing sense of loss. He still had not gotten a straight answer from Tony, and now Michelle was upset with him. What's worse, Maxxie had not even spoken to Anwar all week. Nothing was getting solved, and his problems were only multiplying. Unable to contain himself any longer, Maxxie covered his face with his hands and sobbed quietly, streams of tears trickling into his palms. He quickened his pace and started to run. Tearing across the green, he tried to avoid being seen by people in his wretched state. He needed to get away. He didn't want to be around his friends when he was like this, nor did he want to see Tony or Michelle. He needed to disappear, and not feel like a complete fuck up anymore. He couldn't stay and wait around for people to start judging him when everyone found out that Maxxie Oliver was a big cock sucking slut. Running off the school property, Maxxie's feet pounded the pavement. He cried all the way home.
A/N: Thus ends the first chapter. What did you think? I made great efforts to try and match my writing as accurately to the show as possible (meticulously playing and replaying certain parts, sometimes going frame-by-frame). I wanted the details I added in to fit with the timeline and the overall mood of the episode (episode 7: "Michelle," to be exact). I'm a real stickler for keeping things as canon as possible (well, lately anyways).
However, there are a few iffy details I wasn't quite sure what to do with. When Maxxie first arrives, I'm not exactly sure what Tony is doing, but it looked to me like he was moving Maxxie around into an odd pose and stealing his cigarette, so I went with it. All that does happen in the episode though, down to Tony holding Maxxie's hips. Also, I'm not even sure if what Maxxie is smoking is a joint or tobacco. I'm a horribly sheltered kid, and I've never touched either before. However, I don't want my characters stoned all the time (that'd make for a pretty crappy story), so I went with the safer route.
Also, when Michelle punches Tony, I got the line "You dirty little fucker, I never want to see your tiny, twatty [blank] ever again." I wasn't really quite sure what she said. My two best guesses were "gob" and "cock," which doesn't make much sense to me either way. I looked up every possible definition of "gob" and came up with a slang term for mouth, a small lump, and spit. Cock didn't seem very fitting either. If I were in her position, I'd be more concerned about his lying face or something. It's not like she sees his dick all the time anyways. So, if anyone could explain that, that would be cool.
Also, I forgot to write in Maxxie's skateboard, but I figured that was an inconsequential detail that didn't merit me rewriting anything.
Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter (sorry for talking so much. Bad habit). A review would be absolutely lovely. Bear in mind, this is the first completed chapter I've written in a year, so I need all the criticism I can get. I tried to weave in enough original material so I wasn't just rewriting the episode. I hope I maintained a good balance.
That's all for now. As far as updates go, I don't know how often I'll be able to get them up. Classes start tomorrow, but I have a really easy load this semester. It's all wholly dependent on how much time I have to devote to school, and how much inspiration I get. I'm really feeling this story though, so I expect to be churning it out rather quickly. Keep your eyes peeled. In the meantime, please leave a few words – a helpful pointer or a nice comment, anything really.