A/N: So, on that background extra front, I worked five days on 13 season 3 in the past two weeks (next one this Thursday), and I did an indie film this past weekend.
A/N2: Wasn't quite sure where I was going with this but new ideas emerged, and the person I'm using for Skip's appearance is, of course, at the top of my profile.
"You—you mean it?" Jackson nearly slid off Peter's lap. He didn't actually expect him to respond; he was just being an ass.
"I mean it." They looked into each other's eyes until Jackson looked away. No one had ever said that they were in love with him.
Jackson cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, thanks, Petey." Lost for further meaningful words, he simply snuggled into Peter's chest. "Comfy," he murmured.
May smiled fondly and returned to the kitchen while Peter picked up the remote.
Jackson stared blankly at Flash, who was in the middle of insulting him once more. Getting knocked out once obviously wasn't enough for the kid to back off, and he'd promised Peter he'd be less violent, so Jackson stood there and took it.
"What's your problem, Jack-off?" This was new coming from Flash but an all-too-familiar name from his past.
A small smirk crossed Jackson's features. "Nice that you're finally—somewhat—referring to me by my first name, Eugene." He saw the punch coming seconds away and ducked, easily depositing the younger boy over his back, and to the floor. "This is why you really shouldn't start fights you have even the slightest doubt of not winning." Stepping over the kid, Jackson went on his way.
"You can't keep letting him get away with insulting you, you know that, right?" Jackson groaned, hearing an adult voice. "Good to see you too, Trutnev." And it was then he froze. "What? Six years and no hello?"
He finally turned to see the only person he truly hoped he'd never see again. The man's bangs hung into his eyes but there was no doubt about it. "What—what are you doing here?" He tried to keep his voice steady.
"I didn't expect to see you here, kid. I'm the new Literature teacher."
"You had to come here? Not some generic public school with students just perfect for you to take advantage of?" Skip raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. I came to terms with what you did to me. I was like thirteen. And I've still never told anyone." He couldn't tell him about Peter. Peter was precious and didn't need to be part of his childhood trauma. The brunet took a step towards the man, who was at least half a foot taller than him. "Stay the fuck away from me."
Skip shook his head with a chuckle. "Jackson, Jackson, Jackson. Still the same little spitfire I remember. You know it's not that easy, right, pal? You're a senior, right?" He didn't wait for an answer; he looked down at the kid with a smirk. "I'm your teacher. I can see to it that you don't pass. Lit's a pretty big part of your finals, am I right?"
Jackson's cheeks flushed. He was just getting his grades back up to speed. Morita said if he kept it up, he could still graduate with the rest of his class. "You wouldn't. You're not that heartless." Deep down, Jackson knew he was.
"Dunno, Jacks. Maybe you should start being nicer to me. I think you need a detention for using profanity though." Skip scribbled something on a pad and ripped the paper, holding it out. "Lunch, room two-thirty-seven." Without a second thought, the man left, leaving Jackson standing in the middle of the hallway, pink slip in his hand.
"Jesus fucking Christ."
Peter scanned the cafeteria. There was no sign of Jackson; he hadn't texted back in two hours. He was usually much better about replying. After a minute, he shrugged and settled back between Ned and MJ.
"Where's your boyfriend?" She asked, not looking up from her book.
"He's... around, I guess." Peter hoped Jackson wasn't in trouble. It had only been a few days since they told each other 'I love you', and it wasn't weird at all. Jackson was the same sarcastic dork, and Peter either rolled his eyes or went along with him, most of the time getting caught up in it. He hadn't told them yet. "He said he loves me."
The spoon in Ned's hand clattered onto the tray and MJ actually turned her attention to him. It was also the moment Harry arrived at the table, and now all three of them were watching Peter like a test subject. "And what did you say to that?"
"'I love you too'."
There was a collective silence amidst the general chatter of their surroundings, and then they all started talking at once.
"Are you insane?"
"Do you mean it?"
"Pete..."
MJ put up her hands. "Okay. So you two are official now?"
Peter shrugged. "I guess? I mean, he's been over and he's very cuddly." Jackson was going to kill him when he found out he told them this. "He's never lied to me." After a second, he added, "Without good reason." His phone buzzed and he saw a text from Jackson. It was a simple 'Love you, Pete. Gotta get some studying done. See you later.' and a heart emoji. "Guess he's not joining us."
"More time to interrogate you." MJ snapped her book shut and tucked it into her bag before folding her arms in front of her. "Tell us more."
"So what do I do now? Do I have to write 'I must not use profanity' and it'll get burned into my hand?" Jackson sat, arms folded across his chest, giving Skip the dirtiest look he could muster. "Or do I have to suck your dick? Because I'm not doing that. I'd rather flunk out into public school before going anywhere near that microphallus again."
Skip was unfazed by Jackson's snark. He actually kind of missed it. "You're about seventeen now, huh?" He took a chair and sat in front of the student. "This really doesn't have to be as difficult as you're making it. We'll start off at your current B-plus average and work up from there. Unless, of course, you don't cooperate. I'll knock off five percent every time you disobey." He reached out and stroked Jackson's cheek. "So soft."
Jackson knocked his hand away. "Don't touch me."
"Already down to a B-minus. Not off to a good start, are we?" He stood up and moved towards the door, locking it. "I didn't want to do this so soon but you are just so aggravating. What happened to that sweet, innocent ten-year-old who loved it when I touched him?"
"He grew up. He's seen things. He knows what you did was wrong." Jackson got to his feet and clenched his fists. He was having trouble controlling his emotions, which only meant his powers would soon emerge. "You offered to hang out with me. Of course I said yes. I didn't have anyone else. What the hell do you want from me? I swear to every God that exists, I never told a soul."
Skip stood less than a foot from the kid and lifted his chin with one hand. "You really don't get it, do you, Jackson?" This time, Jackson didn't dare swat him away. "I may seem like a creep but there's only one I've ever done things to. That's you."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?!" In a very bizarre way, it kind of did. Even if he had a hard time believing Skip, knowing that he was the only one who suffered psychological trauma because of him and not some other even more naive kid made him feel very slightly less bad. "But why me?"
"Because you're different than all those other kids. Not just being a social pariah. There's something else about you. I'm just not quite sure what." He moved his hand. "Get outta here. Go to lunch. I'll see you later."
Jackson stayed rooted to his spot for a moment before shaking his head and going to grab his backpack. He put a hand on the doorknob. He hesitated. "Skip?"
"Yeah, Jacks?"
He didn't know what to say. "Nothing. I—" He hurried out of the room before he thought too much into it and said something he'd regret.
Jackson didn't know how he felt. Part of him felt this weird sort of sympathy for Skip, but another part—a much bigger part—told him that this was the same guy who sexually abused him for six months, only manipulating his lack of a social life to gain trust. He swore to Peter that he'd never keep any more secrets but if he told him about Skip blackmailing him, Peter would try to get him to tell someone, and that would only put Peter in danger, which he couldn't bring himself to do.
"Jacks!" He forced a smile and turned to see Peter alongside Ned, MJ and Harry.
"Hey, guys! What's up?" Jackson shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels.
Harry stepped forward. "Peter just told us about you guys. I'm sure I don't need to threaten to end you if you ever hurt Peter, right?"
"You don't need to. Relax. You know damn well I would never allow even a quark on his perfect body to get hurt." He slid his arm around Peter, whose cheeks were red.
"Hey, Penis Parker! Got a boyfriend now? Oh, it's Jack-off." Although already in a fragile state, Jackson moved in front of Peter to confront Flash.
"Got a problem with it? If you do, you can tell me right now. I'll listen. It's twenty-seventeen, Flash. Get over yourself. If you spend this much time harassing people for being gay, you really need to catch up." His friends watched him closely. "What is it? Because Peter's practically the smartest kid in school? Feeling like second best? Because I'm a troubled orphan with Noonan syndrome?" He scoffed. "You don't need to pick on others to validate yourself. Maybe focus a little more on you and you won't find everything else so hard." He returned to Peter's side and led him away.
"What brought that on? Are you okay?"
He smiled a little. "Perfect."
They split up for their last few periods, and Jackson sat in the back of the room during sixth period Lit. He kept his eyes down but when he had to look up, Skip was watching him. He wanted to tell someone but, once again, who was going to believe a delinquent over a teacher? He was planning to patrol after school to get his mind off things. Catching bad guys always helped him feel better. He had a crime watch app on his phone and checked it to find new places.
As soon as the bell rang, he was sure to get himself jumbled among the other students in order for a quicker escape. He slipped out the back door just outside the classroom, and put on his suit in the alleyway. He flashed home for a moment to drop off his stuff, and opened his phone. There was a bank robbery in progress at the M&T in Oceanside.
He could see the police cars surrounding the building and teleported inside, startling everyone. He put his hands up, seemingly in surrender. "Everyone freeze!" The robbers glanced at each other and back at him. "Literally." Four orbs—two from each hand—shot out, encasing them in ice. With a sigh, Kid Psionic strode past one guy, taking the bag from his hand and giving it back to the teller, who gave him a grateful smile.
"Stop right there, mutie." Jackson raised his hands and turned to see one guy with a collar in hand. He recognized it as one that halts mutant powers and renders him vulnerable. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way—"
"I prefer the hard way. Hard and long. Gonna punish me, Daddy?" A new fireball was forming in his right hand. "I don't know how I feel about leashes but I'm all too willing to try." He let it fly, narrowly missing his target and into the door that was opening for several police officers. "Fuck."
Guns were drawn but his hands remained up. "C'mon, guys, I didn't mean to, I swear!" The lead criminal was apprehended and forced to the ground as six officers circled him. "We can talk this one out. Please? I really just wanna be good. No more killing bad guys. For realsies." One grabbed him from behind and twisted his arm behind his back. "Ow! Hey!" Then the collar was put on him. "I'm good! I'm trying to stop this! The fuck, man?"
"Shut up, kid." The police chief came forward and looked down at him. "Your aim nearly killed two officers."
"Look, I'm really not trying to hurt any of you. I was aiming for his hand. That's it. Please." He swallowed thickly. "Let me go."
"Sorry, kid. We gotta bring you in. Just to the station." Jackson was hauled outside and people were taking pictures of him with their phones.
"This is not gonna help my social standing." He was pushed into the same car as the head crook, who was unconscious. Something caught Jackson's eye and he shifted over to see a Ꞓ on the man's head, just behind his ear. "What the fuck?"