Fic Draft

Summary: One of the most intense six months of David's life was the time he met, befriended, idolized and fell in and out of love with an older boy named Frank Jaeger. A series of glimpses into that whirlwind relationship while it lasted.

Note 1: I chose the surname Doe for David because I fucking love the idea of Big Boss' real name actually literally being John Doe. Also, David Doe has a cute ring to it, if you ask me.

Note 2: Thx @ my friends (especially Meowzy, and my lovely gf Alana) for encouraging me to write this. This wouldn't have been more than my half-awake AU ramblings at midnight without you.

Thx also @ some rad peeps that helped me find a way to actually write this, when traditional brainstorming/outlining methods didn't work for me

Fic:

<p>David's been having some problems lately. For so long, he's always been the most well behaved of his siblings, especially compared to his twin brother, Eli. George, at least, had the excuse of being younger. But David had always been quiet, reserved, and helpful. He was a good student, and his biggest problem was sometimes not doing his homework on time, and struggling in his science classes.&nbsp;</p>
<p>But things have changed lately, ever since he and Eli got into a huge fight at school. Some sort of disagreement, or argument, or something, and they went at it. They tore through the halls, like a pair of wild beasts, destroying everything in their path in their quest to destroy each other. Furniture was broken, glass was shattered, displays were torn apart, anyone who got in the way go hurt. It was a mess, and it was like David had just snapped. The only reason he and Eli hadn't been promptly expelled was because the school year had only a couple months left, and it was their last year before moving on to high school. That, and because their father had a lot of influence he could throw around.</p>
<p>But ever since then, David's been as much of a problem child as his twin. Picking fights left and right with anyone who so much as looks at him funny, fighting with Eli more frequently, vanishing at odd times, being avoidant, refusing to talk to anyone. Not even his friends can get a word out of him about the change. He spends the summer after school ended out of the house all hours of the day, and not always with friends. He acts secretive around his parents, especially his mother, who he gets distant from- she never notices the smell of cigarette smoke in his hair. As the new school year approaches, he takes to stealing cigarettes, or 'convincing' someone else to buy them for him. Only fourteen, and smoking in alleys, behind buildings, quiet parks. A couple of his friends know, but they keep quiet about it when he asks.</p>
<p>School starts, and the violence issues start right back up. Despite being a new freshman, Dave quickly gains a reputation for being hostile, picking fights with anyone who bothers him. His gym teacher, and family friend, Miller, tries to talk to him- they'd always been close. But even he can't get through to him, and he finds the lunches he makes David aren't always eaten. David skips lunches, going behind school buildings to smoke instead.He nearly gets caught a few times, having to keep moving to find better places to smoke, until he finds a particularly out of the way spot behind the gym.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>But... sometimes, there's another boy there. An older boy, upperclassman. They don't talk, and keep their distance, a wordless agreement to let each other have their space and their peace. Although, sometimes curiosity catches one or the other. And they look. David sees silver hair, gray eyes, a letterman jacket, bruises. Another fighter. The older boy looks, too. Sees David's moppy brown hair, ice blue eyes, the frequent and ever changing map of bruises and welts on his face and arms, yet more hidden under his clothes. A cigarette in a mouth way too young for it, coughing sometimes as Dave's lungs struggle to adapt. But he smokes like it's a lifeline.</p>
<p>&nbsp;</p>
<p>But still, they don't talk. They mind their own business. For a while.</p>
<p align="center">---</p>
<p align="left">&nbsp;</p>
<p align="left">Another day, another fight. David had seen another boy hassling some girl. He didn't know either of them. But he stepped in, made it his problem, and there was a fight. David, as usual, left the moment the fight was over, with him as the victor. There's a chance the other guy could report him, but he doubts he knows David's name, and he isn't letting himself be caught if he can help it. So he slinks away, skipping the class before lunch to lick his wounds, take a smoke. And the worst part is, he doesn't even care about that girl. He only used her harassment as an excuse to have another fight.</p>
<p align="left">The upperclassman is there when David arrives. He's not always there, but he's a frequent enough sight that David doesn't even blink, like he's just a part of the decor, like the fence or the peeling paint on the gym wall, or the dozens of cigarette butts on the ground. David doesn't spare him a second glance. At first.</p>
<p align="left">After a while, though, halfway through his cigarette, David realizes the older boy is staring. Not just stealing a cursory glance, but properly staring. David turns to meet the gaze, ice blue meeting gray- though David has to tilt his head up, the upperclassman being taller than the freshman barely into puberty.</p>
<p align="left">There's something in the way those eyes stare at him that makes David nervous. And excited. Eyes that bore through him, analyze him, attempt to pick him apart as a person and piece him back together, size him up. Does he ever blink? A predator eyeing up prey, but Dave's not prey, and he's more than ready to pounce back- and those eyes say they expect a struggle. Want it.<br /><br />"So..." He starts. The older boy's voice is hard and edged like a blade, and he speaks every word with purpose. "You get in fights a lot." A statement, not a question.<br /><br />"Yeah. What of it?" The first time David's spoke up around the upperclassman with the most intense stare he's ever seen, and he struggles to hide the way his voice is cracking, tries to keep it toward the older, deeper side. It doesn't even work a bit, and he coughs up a bit of smoke.<br /><br />Thankfully, the senior doesn't laugh. Or so much as twitch the corners of his lips. He just keeps staring with purposeful intensity. "<em>So</em>, I think that's good." He says, and he pushes himself away from the wall, stepping closer to Dave, hands in his pockets and feet apart, shoulders squared, standing straight as he stares down his nose at the freshman. David feels his nerves firing up, as he stands perfectly still, matching the other boy's stare. What's that supposed to...? "Do you wanna go?"<br /><br />"What?"<br /><br />"I said, do you wanna go?"<br /><br />Okay, no, Dave knows what he means, but- "And I said 'what'? You <em>want</em> to fight me?"<br /><br />The upperclassman finally breaks his stare in order to roll his eyes, but they're back on Dave in moments. "Yeah. Why wouldn't I? You don't seem half bad at it." He takes his hands from his pockets, knuckles scabbed and bruised worse than Dave's, and he cracks his knuckles in a way that is somehow not intentionally intimidating- of course, David's slightly intimidated nonetheless. "Been a while since I had a really good one. So. You wanna go?"<br /><br />David isn't sure what this guy's deal is. What's his angle? Does he really just want a good fight? ... He can't blame him. So does David, honestly, though maybe not for the same reasons. Dave wants the outlet for pent up aggression, anger, frustration, to let it out, release the pressure. He's not sure what the other boy is in it for.</p>
<p align="left">"... Sure." He finally says, after thinking about it, and Dave pushes himself away from the wall as well, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it as he squares up in front of the older boy. ... Who has a full head of height on him. Doesn't matter, Dave's strong, he's beaten down people bigger than him before. Although... something about the upperclassman tells him this'll be a different story. "Right here?"<br /><br />"Right here. Right now." The older boy shrugs his jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground behind him, and raises his fists in front of him. "You first, kid."</p>
<p align="left">Already, David can tell that this isn't going to be anything like his other fights. No excuses, no offenses, no victims- just a fight. Just a good fight. He takes a breath, in, out, he flexes his hands, blood still fresh on his knuckles, and he takes his stance. Him first, huh? Well, first impressions are everything. Better make it good.</p>
<p align="left">&nbsp;</p>
<p align="left">&nbsp;The fight doesn't last long. A flurry of limbs, fists and elbows, ducking, bobbing, weaving, a dance. Through the traded blows, David swears he catches the sight of bared teeth- not in a snarl, but in a grin, wild-eyed and alive and he's never seen the other boy look so delighted. Dave loses, of course. He'd just come from a different fight, already bloody and bruised and sore, tired, and the upperclassman is so much stronger and faster than him already. A blow to the side of his head, a punch to his diaphragm, his legs swept out from under him, and he's down flat on his back and struggling to breathe.<br /><br />His ears are ringing, eyes seeing white as he blinks up at the sky, but he thinks he sees a shadow moving closer- to pin him? Keep him down? No- he feels something softer, a hand pressed almost gently to his shoulder, and another patting at his cheek. A voice- stern and hard, yet not harsh. He can hear the older boy panting as he catches his breath, knelt over David.<br /><br />"C'mon, kid. Try to breath." He says, and Dave thinks he can make out pale gray eyes, piercing, seeing straight through him. "Don't choke. Just breath. Pull it in."<br /><br />It's a pain, his lungs refusing to fill, but he concentrates on the older boy's voice, his body tingling and soon enough, he can do more than just gasp desperately, proper breaths filling his lungs gradually as he re-learns how to breath. God, he hates getting the wind knocked out of him. But, hey, he's sure the other kids he's done it to hate it too. What goes around...<br /><br />He can see properly now, his eyes stuck on the older boy's, who's staring at him so intently and- and smiling. It looks a little unnatural on that sharp face, but it seems genuine. Small and appreciative. "That was a good fight." He says, patting David's shoulder, before climbing to his feet. "Best I've had in years."<br /><br />He offers a hand to David, who hesitates, before accepting it, only to grunt when he's yanked fully to his feet and stumbling. The upperclassman doesn't laugh, though. he just watches Dave right himself, putting his hands in his pockets. "We should do it again sometime." He continues, as David dusts himself off. "Bet you'll be even better with some practice."<br /><br />David frowns, turning to face him, rubbing at his sore jaw. "So, what, fighting's a hobby of yours?"</p>
<p align="left">The other boy just stares at him, through him, too calm. "Isn't it for you?"</p>
<p align="left">David's not sure how to answer the question. He just stares right back. There's a minute of still silence.</p>
<p align="left">"What's your name, kid?"</p>
<p align="left">"David."</p>
<p align="left">"Frank Jaeger."</p>
<p align="left">Frank holds out a hand. Dave pauses, in the middle of wiping fresh blood from a bloody nose. Then, he slaps his hand into it, grasping it with a lopsided smile on his face. Frank gives him that small, unnatural yet good smile again, and David feels a warmth rise in him.</p>
<p align="left">"Nice to meet you, Frank." He says as they shake hands.</p>
<p align="left">"You too, David. Can't wait to fight you again."</p>
<p align="left">&nbsp;</p>
<p align="center">---</p>
<p align="left">&nbsp;</p>
<p align="left">&nbsp;</p>