Isak
He doesn't think about it. He doesn't. Isak Valtersen does not think about the most beautiful boy he's ever seen. Or his pale skin and his lean, muscled form. He doesn't think about the trail of golden hair glinting in the sun, leading to the nicest dick Isak has ever seen. It was far and brief, but Isak had gotten enough of a look to know that he would have loved to see it closer. To hold it and taste it and let his tongue and fingers map out the boy attached to it.
And that's fucking terrifying.
Gym class is...gym class. Isak isn't opposed to the work. In fact, he loves it. Loves the metallic taste in his mouth and the burn in his calves. He loves soccer and the control and power he has behind the ball. What he doesn't love is this goddamn basketball unit in a class full of people he can't stand (Næsheim included). He has zero skill with it and it's really no surprise he's being picked last for the third class this week.
Ok, not dead last (Even isn't picked at all), but it's embarrassing as shit. He's already the gay kid, but now he has to be the gay kid who sucks at sports. It's not like Isak is some effeminate, limp-wristed, gay boy that runs like a little girl. One of the things that held him back from coming out sooner was becoming some kind of stereotype and that's exactly what's happened. He knows what everyone thinks about him.
I swear, I saw Isak in a dress once. Gays must love that shit.
Didn't Elise say something about seeing him making out with some older guy? Always knew that kid was a bit of a slut.
The class passes fairly quickly. No one passes the ball to Isak, and he's glad. He couldn't have done anything with it with Even's heavy glare on him the entire time. It's nothing new, but after yesterday, Even seems like he's out for blood.
Somehow the ball lands in Even's hands and the rest of the class shies away from him. He looks around for anyone to pass it to, but no one makes eye contact. He frowns at the ball, and Isak's traitorous heart stutters for a moment. He's not supposed to feel anything. It's one thing to be attracted to him, physically. It's an entirely different concept to feel bad for Even. To smooth out his furrowed brow and kiss his lips until they stretch into a smile.
Isak takes a step back when he looks up to find Even's eyes boring into his face. And then, because Isak's a dramatic piece of shit, time seems to slow down. Or speed up. It doesn't matter, all he knows is that he has no clue what just happened.
He remembers the impact. And the pain. He remembers the blazing, wild eyes inches from his own. He remembers the low snarl of fucking queer in his ear. Mostly, though, he remembers the hard length of Even's cock pressed against him as they fought.
Vilde
Are you ok?
I heard about what happened today
Do you want to report him? I'll come with you if you need me to.
Isak
Does everyone know?
Vilde
I tried to get people to stop talking about you, but it didn't really work.
Sorry.
Isak
Thanks for trying.
Vilde
You know it's because I love you 3
Isak
3
Vilde
You didn't answer my question
The girls and I will keep everyone off your back if you let us know
(Even Jonas. I'm pretty sure Sana can take him)
Isak
Lol he's a meddling asshole. But he's my meddling asshole
Wait
That came out wrong
I'm fine.
I'm not some fragile fucking flower just cuz I like dick
I can handle Even
Vilde
Ok calm down
We just care about you
Isak
Sorry
Still a little pissed
Vilde
3
"One, two. One, two, three. Watch your guard." Eskild's going easy on him, and he should probably be annoyed at that, but he can't really feel his face or his ribs.
"Can we- shit - can we take a break for a sec?" Isak settles on the ground near his water bottle, panting hard.
He's downed nearly half of the water before acknowledging Eskild's not so subtle stare. "What is it, Eskild?"
"Are we going to talk about it?" Yeah, fuck that.
"About what?"
"Don't be a shit, Is. You never ask for extra sessions unless something's up. And your face is, like, seven different colours right now." Isak sighs and slumps against the wall. He doesn't want to talk about anything, except maybe Eskild's Grindr matches, but he's terrible at keeping anything from his mentor. (Isak will never refer to Eskild as 'guru' or any other ridiculous title he comes up with, thank you very much.)
"I'm a-ok, Eskild. It's just regular teen stuff." Isak tries for a smile, but it comes out wrong and Eskild looks less assured than when they started.
"Regular teen stuff? Baby, you are the image of troubled youth. Bruises and all." He sits down next to Isak, and pull him into his side. Isak squirms and tries to push him off, but leans into him when Eskild doesn't let up.
"I don't know what to tell you." Isak hates that his voice sounds so small. So weak.
"How about we start with your face. What happened, Isak?"
Sometimes Isak has a hard time talking about things that aren't superficial. Lie. He always has trouble with feelings. He pretends that he's doing alright. Fakes his way through tough conversations and acts like he enjoys being himself. And that's it. That's the thing. He hates it. He doesn't want to be Isak Valtersen; gay kid. He doesn't even want to be Isak Valtersen.
"I got into a fight." He says the words slow and careful.
"I can see that. You've been fighting a lot lately." Eskild looks down at Isak in that Eskild way and Isak knows he's seeing right through him.
"I never start them."
"Ok. I'm not teaching you how to box to attack people. Only self-defense, right?"
"Yeah. Or, maybe not never. I've started a good five percent of them." Or ten. The point is, it's almost always Even's fault.
"Isak," he sighs. "Who's doing it? And how often?"
"You can't tell anyone. I mean it, Eskild." He nods after a beat, brows furrowed. "There's this guy. Even. I'm pretty sure he's picking fights because I'm gay."
"Isak, you should report him to the school."
"No. I can't. Really, it's not that bad. We fight, and then it cools off for a while. I can take care of it."
"Baby, this isn't how you take care of something. Do your friends know?" He shifts to face Isak. "We can go to your headmaster and make sure he takes care of it without it being about you. Even won't know."
"Eskild, I don't want to. Please, just listen. He's probably not going to graduate, I don't want to fuck up his life with a record too. He's just a little messed up. I can handle it, I promise. The second I can't, I'll tell you."
He sighs again, resigned and Isak prays it's enough to keep him satisfied.
"Ok, I trust your judgement, kiddo. But you have to keep your promise."
"I swear."
"Nei! Pappa, you can't say things like that. I'm telling Mamma." It feels good to talk to his pappa. They hadn't seen each other in a few months and Isak had been starting to miss his pappa's booming laughter.
"Oi, don't you dare, little man. Speaking of Mamma, when is she getting back?"
Isak moves to check his phone, but before he can, the door opens and his mamma's voice carries through the house. He looks up at his Pappa and they share a knowing smile.
"Baby! I've brought someone home."
"Are you cheating on Pappa now?" Marianne comes rushing in to pinch his nose in mock anger. Isak sputters a laugh and pushes her away, his pappa watching and chuckling at them.
"Silly boy. One of my patients is being transferred to the hospital, so her son is going to stay with us for a bit." Isak tears his gaze away from his pappa on the screen to see a lanky figure holding a duffel bag in the doorway. His face pales when he meets those clear blue eyes that have been plaguing his thoughts. "This is Even. You go to the same school."
Isak tries to look everywhere else, but he can't help the way he's drawn to Even. His thoughts are a tangled mess of hate and so hot and what the fuck.
"Halla, Isak. Nice to meet you."