Yo. Told you bitches it'd be here soon. I probably should've edited it more or something, butthonestly the fucks that I might have given are otherwise occupied.
It's shorter than normal, but I thought you had waited long enough for this.
Also, big thanks to Something Simsy, really doll you make me feel better about all my shitty shenanigans.
I'll shut up now. Enjoy bitches.
Arthur's knuckles popped menacingly, his grim expression portraying the current direction his thoughts were tending. Even so, the two idiots opposite him were still smiling. A smirk crept its way onto Arthur's solemn visage. He'd fix that soon enough.
Arthur looked over his shoulder at Heracles. The beaten Greek looked as if he had no idea what was going on. Aw, poor lamb. Arthur grinned at him, honestly grinned, a brilliant grin that shone brighter than the sun after years of eternal night.
"You might want to back up a bit, love."
He turned back round and winked at the two before him, his grin still firmly in place. It seemed as if the pair had finally gathered where this was going. Well, almost. Antonio looked as if he'd been struck by a truck (which Arthur took to be his shock that something had actually managed to work its way through his thick skull), while Sadiq looked like he was still trying to figure out what was going on. Arthur took several steps forward, until there was less than a meter of space between them. He rolled his shoulders, bones popping menacingly as he addressed the two before him.
"So, if, say, two lads were to kiss-" Antonio's face twisted with horror and Sadiq actually made a gagging noise. Arthur nodded thoughtfully.
"And if two lasses were to kiss?" No reaction. Arthur arched an eyebrow.
"Well?" Antonio shrugged, while Sadiq shifted uncomfortably.
"That's different," Antonio threw out casually. "Girl's don't come on to you and show off their gayness everywhere. Besides, it's hot." Antonio laughed and slapped Sadiq's shoulder, who then began to laugh as well. Arthur's smile didn't waver, and he took a step closer. Antonio and Sadiq stopped laughing.
"Escuchas, mi amigo, I think you are a bit too close." Arthur tilted his head lazily as he studied Antonio. He did not move away.
Antonio's olive eyes raked over Arthur's face fearfully. They flickered back to Sadiq briefly before the pair distanced themselves from him ever so slightly. Though minute, the minuscule movement did not escape Arthur's keen eyes. His brow lowered, his eyes narrowed. That wanker just took a step back, Arthur thought. He followed, his own stride matching theirs. Antonio took another step. So did Arthur. The crowd around them got bigger, the circle of free space got wider. Heracles hovered at the edge, eyeing the proceedings warily, while Sadiq kept glancing between Arthur and Antonio, unsure of what to do. Antonio's eyes narrowed.
"Listen, hermano. You are new here, so you may not know, but we don't like abominations at this school. We have pride in being a normal school, and these faggots," there was no trace of malice in his tone as he gestured towards Heracles, "love to fuck up our reputation. You get a free pass today, only because I think you might be a pretty okay guy, but next time we'll have to throw you in with them. ¿Comprendes?"
"Oh, I understand perfectly." Arthur offered Antonio a grin that was far to innocent to mean anything but agony for anyone who stood in the wearer's way, while his mind raced. HE had said he wasn't going to start a fight. He said he wasn't- wait. He didn't have to start a fight.
His heart beat faster, and he almost loosed a malicious grin. He was smart, he could play this right. He just needed to figure out what got under this one's skin, and fast.
"I understand that if you cross me I'll sink you faster than we sank your Armada." He hated that he had to resort to goading, and half arsed goading at that, but he was never a patient man, and this one didn't seem to be bright enough to understand what was going on.
He wasn't. As soon as the words had left Arthur's mouth the Spainiard's face had contorted with fury, his hands dancing nervously about his thighs as they itched to avenge their owner's pride by wrapping around the Brit's neck and squeezing until he had juiced all the life from his now lifeless form. A strong tanned jaw clenched, and a terrible smile settled on rosy lips.
Bloody hell, is the git really that patriotic? Arthur mentally shrugged. Well, if that was what got him going...
"Oh dear, but I couldn't do that!" Arthur suddenly gasped, his face exhibiting the most overdramtic rendition- and it was a rendition- of shock that this poor school had seen in many years.
Antonio's ears began to flame as Arthur looked at him with such hurt and disappointment you'd think that Arthur had just caught Antonio cheating on him after years of marriage.
"¿Y por qué no?" Antonio's voice came out in a low rumble, almost managing to turn his beautiful language menacing. Arthur inwardly smirked.
"Why not? Because it wouldn't be fair, darling. A Spaniard and his lackey facing off a British gentleman?" Arthur shook his head sadly as Antonio watched suspiciously. Arthur lifted his head up again, locking eyes with the jock. "You wouldn't last two seconds." Antonio growled. Literally. Arthur couldn't help it; he let out one quick chuckle before regaining his composure. He glanced around quickly, and was relieved to find that no one had caught his slip. Well, no one other than Antonio.
He was practically snorting out great streams of fire, his face had turned the color of a branding iron. Arthur tutted, and his kind expression and gentle tone bespoke of nothing but genuine concern.
"Are you alright? Your face has turned a wee bit red... Oh! You probably ate too many tomatoes again, hm love? You know what they say, you are what you-mmpph!" Antonio had slapped his hand over Arthur's mouth. Arthur almost had a grudging admiration for the guy's self control, until he remembered how he had gone off on the Greek lad simply for being- oh. Of course.
Arthur could've smacked himself. Here he was making some second grade insults at Spain- what the hell did he know about Spain anyways?- when he could have just pulled out his rainbow-fairymagic and hit the jock with a face full of supergay. Surely that would've pissed the lad off long ago. Arthur ran an eye over the boy before him, making him squirm uncomfortably. It wouldn't take much- Antonio was already livid. Just a little push...
They were so close together that Arthur could feel the jock's breath on his face. So close that-he hoped- no one else could see his face. Arthur curved his lips up into a smile that he knew Antonio could feel, and he winked.
Toni's fist hit the air where Arthur's face had just been, and he whirled around, searching manically for the elusive Englishman, as Arthur stood right at the edge of the crowd. Finally! Something fun!
As Arthur stood there for several seconds more, his eyebrow began to creep up towards his hairline. He wasn't hiding, at all, and he really stood out in his punk attire amidst the sea of black and green. After a good minute of Antonio whirling around in a blind fury, Arthur turned to the boy next to him and in a stage whisper said, "Are all Spaniards this idiotic, or do you think this one's an anomaly?" the lad snickered, and Antonio whirled towards the Brit's voice, charging him with a speed that shocked Arthur. He tried to sidestep, but was a hair to slow; Antonio glanced his side, sending them both stumbling. Note to self; the bastard is fast.
Arthur frowned as he regained his balance. He had gotten cocky... and forgotten that the Spaniard played sports here. His eyes narrowed as he turned back towards his opponent. He had gone looking for a fight to teach this lad a lesson, not to play. It was time to stop batting his food about and devour it whole.
Arthur barely gave Antonio time to turn around before he struck, his fist colliding with the side of Antonio's face as his foot swept behind him in an attempt to knock the jock off his feet. Antonio dodged, stumbling a bit to keep his footing and immediately counterattacking, his own fist flying towards Arthur's face. Arthur stepped to the side and forwards, grabbing Antonio's arm and twisting it mercilessly.
"Sadiq!" Arthur ducked as a huge fist materialized where his head had just been, letting go of Toni's arm in the process. He now faced two big, angry jocks.
"You're going to pay for that faggot." Arthur's acidic eyes narrowed. He hated that word. A shit eating grin spread over Antonio's face, as Arthur's teeth ground together.
"What's the matter? Don't like hearing the truth, faggot?" He really hated that word. Scenes and voices flew through his mind, that word repeating over and over in his head, spoken from a thousand different mouths a thousand different times.
"Look, the little fag can't even talk back." HE. DIES. NOW. Arthur lunged forward, his elbow smashing into Sadiq's nose as he brought his knee up into Antonio's stomach. He didn't give them a chance to recover, immediately spinning away only to bring his foot up, lashing it out in a vicious kick that sent Sadiq flying. Those outside the circle caught him, holding him up as he desperately tried to suck in air. Arthur turned away; Sadiq wouldn't be up for a whi- BAM!
Arthur stumbled away, hand cradling the cheek that Toni had just struck. He spit out a bit of blood from where he'd bitten his tongue. He had underestimated the Spaniard, but he was too pissed off to care. He flew at Antonio like a demon escaping Hell, fists placing pretty little bruises all long Antonio's face. One to the jaw, one crushing the nose, one abusing the cheekbone. Antonio closed his eyes, his fists flailing erratically as he attempted to ward off the Brit's attack. Finally he stumbled away, darting around behind Arthur, hooking a foot behind his knees as he tried to turn and ruthlessly jerking them in, forcing the Brit to the ground. Arthur quickly returned the favor, whipping his legs around and sweeping Toni off his feet and onto the floor with him. Antonio groaned, and tried to get up but Arthur was too quick, launching himself at the incapacitated brunette; he rolled them so that Antonio's back was to the floor and Arthur straddled his hips. Panting, he clenched his thighs around the boy, pinning him to the floor. His face glowed with a primal rage, his teeth ground, and in a red haze he raised his fist to pummel the arrogant shit to a bloody pulp.
He was against the ground, bleeding, bruised, and terrified. He wanted it to stop, God did he want to end this, but he couldn't fight back, he shouldn't fight back. The man straddling him leaned down to his ear.
"Don't you remember our deal?" His thick German accent was harsh against Arthur's ear. When he didn't respond, the man's face contorted and his fist posed to strike the boy beneath him. Arthur frantically nodded, and Renier smiled, his fist slowly lowering to grasp the front of the boy's shirt. He bent down until his every breath raced over the child's skin, making it crawl with the fetid feeling.
"Good," he growled.
Arthur's fist dropped. He gulped at the memory, looking at the Spaniard beneath him. Antonio was done; Arthur had definitely broken his nose, probably fractured his cheekbone and done some serious bruising to his jaw. His lip was busted and there was a patch of busted skin bleeding from his forehead.
Arthur was still angry, but he wouldn't get anywhere with this. He stood up, bending down to haul the taller up by the front of his shirt.
"And by the way love," he growled. Antonio flinched, his eyes meeting Arthur's own fearfully, watching for the next punch.
Arthur grabbed the brunette's face and jerked it towards him. Nails digging into the delicate flesh of tanned cheeks, Arthur lunged forward and planted a kiss directly on the homophobe's lips. Toni froze, too shocked to pull back, to scared to move at all.
Arthur kept eye contact with Toni as he pulled away, raising his voice to address everyone, not just the bully. His deep voice rang out loud and clear, his accent rolling the words he spoke to fool any into believing that he read poetry.
"A kiss is a kiss. It doesn't matter where you give it, or to whom you give it to. It is how it's received that matters." He tossed the Spaniards face away from him in disgust, readjusted his jacket, and made his way off through the crowd. People parted like water before him. Everything was silent.
Arthur's face was a blank mask as he walked. Well there goes being good, he thought wearily. He gaze flickered to the last few people between him and solitude. His eyes landed on the panicked face of Francis briefly, before his legs carried him onwards. He inwardly cringed. I really hope I didn't just fuck up royally.
Well, as always, tell me what you guys thought. A HUGE thank you to all my reviewers, and a thank you to all my spider-babies out there who just like to lurk. Thats cool too, but I'd love to hear from you guys.
Flames are welcome! Til next time then,
- THE LLAMA POOR LIFE CHOICES