Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tuesday, 12th of March 

Theo is on the verge of falling asleep, with the hope of never waking up again. Seriously. Never again.

He gave up on pretending to be interested in whatever his math teacher is droning on about twenty minutes ago, and now he’s resigned himself to staring at the seemingly still clock attached to the wall, hoping that if he focuses enough it’ll move faster. 

He knows, realistically, that it's at least a good 50% his fault: for riling Dunbar up, for punching him, for saying what he said. Still, he won’t admit it in front of anyone breathing and alive, and he may convince himself too that it’s not his fault if he repeats it in front of the mirror enough times. 

Again, it’s pretty obvious that detention is supposed to be annoying, something you hate doing, so that next time you’ll think twice about repeating what you did to get yourself in that position. But then, there are many, many things that irritate Theo to the core, and that he would gladly replace his punishment with instead of what the principal and the coaches chose to punish them. To name a few - just to get his point across - he would much rather scrub every school’s surface clean with an old toothbrush, or join the school choir, and even take AP history willingly . 

But nothing can possibly go right in his life, and so - of fucking course - he has to spend his afternoons for  two entire weeks with Dunbar, doing a bunch of terribly boring things like organizing the locker rooms and cleaning the classrooms. Together . He’s going to die. 

He’s 100% sure that the manic grin on Finstock’s face when he chose that punishment wasn’t a figment of Theo’s imagination, caused by the rage obfuscating his mind or something else, and it wouldn’t be surprising given the fact that the coach apparently finds the whole thing on a level of hilarity people like Theo don’t seem to get. 

Twirling his pen with his fingers, his cheek barely meets his propped up arm before the sharp pain brings back vivid details of the day he’s trying extremely hard to erase from his memory, and he’s not entirely sure that his grimace is fully caused by the angry-looking bruise on his cheekbone. 

Back at home, he was almost tempted to ask Tara some help to cover it up, or at least not make him look like he’d gotten in a fistfight instead of doing trigonometry homework, but he was too scared to even ask her to pass him the cereal at breakfast, lest of all help him with that . Even though he believes his sister isn’t really mad at him for his reaction, he can’t handle another person being disappointed in him, not right now. One slightly off look from Tara or anyone else and he could seriously snap then and there, he’s sure of that as much as he’s sure that Scott and Stiles completely hate his guts now, no doubts. 

-------------

Speaking of the devil, Theo bumps into Tracy on his way to biology. He has his head low, pretending to be far too interested as he swipes through Instagram stories he doesn’t give a fuck about. When he makes the terrible mistake of lifting his eyes from his phone, he’s met with Tracy’s honestly terrifying dark gaze, fixed right on him. 

“Raeken.” She says, her tone aloof and clean from any possible emotion that could let Theo pick up on how she’s feeling and act accordingly. He swallows the lump in his throat and returns her stare, his own reflection eerily judging in her dark pupils. 

“Tracy.” He replies, the uncertain ring of his voice a clear display of his emotional state, no doubt something Tracy has already noticed and analyzed. 

“So,” -she starts, letting out an almost invisible sigh that doesn’t go unnoticed- “Josh told me what happened. Or, well, he blabbered for like thirty minutes straight and I’m 83% sure I got what happened.” 

Theo stays silent for a beat, his eyes repeatedly searching Tracy’s face for something that will finally confirm his daunting suspicion. She doesn’t look disappointed, he realizes. And that makes him even more confused, because he was expecting some screaming, or at least a punch. Public displays of violence and such aren’t really Tracy-like, but the thought doesn’t make him any less confused. She doesn’t look disappointed - like - at all. 

And that only increases his already present jumpiness.

Maybe Josh watered down the episode quite a bit during his retelling, or she doesn’t believe him fully. Or she’s just really good at concealing her emotions, which is likely the case.

“You should’ve told me.” Tracy mutters, and Theo can’t bring himself to do much more than nod without meeting her eyes again. 

“It’s no big deal, I just got detention.” Theo explains, hoping his shrug gets the message across in a better way. 

“You said that last time. And look what happened.” 

Theo feels a pang of guilt run through him when his brain registers Tracy’s words, memories of his past flashing behind his eyelids. He rolls his jaw and shrugs again. 

“It’s different. Not a big deal.” He says through gritted teeth, though he doesn’t want to get angry. He just wants to get this fucking detention over with, and then he’ll be back to normal. 

The ring of the bell breaks the silence and Theo doesn’t waste his chance to flee before the situation gets even more embarrassing, mumbling something about being late to biology before taking off. He faintly hears Tracy sigh and catches her shaking her head with the corner of his eye, but he’ll deal with that later. 

The hours pass one after another and he doesn’t catch anyone else of his friends for the whole day, and thinks they’re probably ignoring him too or figuring out the best ways to tell him he’s a fucking idiot. Either way, he’s not in the mood to talk with anyone at the moment, least of all to find excuses for his actions, and so when the bell rings he makes quick work of gathering his stuff and keeping his head low as he gets the hell out of there. 

-------------

The clock precariously attached to the wall keeps ticking obnoxiously with every passing second, and Theo is starting to lose the last remains of patience he has left. 

Dunbar still hasn’t showed up, which - considering that they’re in his fucking school - is rather weird. Like, does he really plan on hiding in the bathroom forever? Or does he hope they’ll declare him dead to skip detention altogether?

While Theo’s trying to figure out every ridiculous excuse Dunbar might come up with to avoid spending his next twelve afternoon with him, the boy himself magically appears in front of him like lamp genie (a cursed lamp, probably), complete with disheveled sandy hair and that characteristic upside down frown on his pink mouth. 

“So nice of you to show up,” Theo mocks him, running his eyes up and down Dunbar’s figure. He looks as if he’s been running a marathon for the past thirty minutes, his cheeks tinged pink and his chest heaving as he moves to the back of the opposite end of the classroom to take a seat. While doing so, he even stops for a second to flip Theo the bird.

“Mature,” Theo mutters, still loud enough to make sure Dunbar can hear him. 

“Fuck you.” He replies, his mouth curling in a mocking smile. 

Theo shakes his head and sighs, before turning back to keep staring at the peeling wall in front of him. He wonders how long he’s going to have to wait for the teacher to finally raise her head from whoever’s papers she’s grading and finally deem them important enough, or if he should’ve brought a pillow with him. 

On his right, he can see Dunbar scrolling on his phone, his backpack propped up on the desk to block the teacher’s view and stop her from catching him, though she doesn’t seem too interested in either of the boys. 

After what felt like two light years, when Theo is considering faking a stroke to get out of there, the teacher finally acknowledges their presence in the room. 

Theo doesn’t recognise her, but if the loathing look on Dunbar’s face is anything to go by, he can gather the fact that she’s not his favorite teacher in the school. She’s wearing way too many bracelets that keep clicking together as she gesticulates obnoxiously, and her voice has that fake sweetness tinge to it that tells Theo she’s going to be absolutely insufferable. 

“Boys,” she begins, pushing back her glasses when they start to slip down her nose. “I’m Mrs. Finch, and as Mr. Dunbar, here, already knows, I teach biology.” She nods her head in Dunbar’s general direction, and Theo is convinced that if looks could kill, Mrs. Finch would be incinerated on the ground. 

“If I recall correctly, you already have one week of detention on top of this.” She smiles, her pearly white teeth glistening and making Theo’s skin honest-to-god crawl. “But, I’m willing to reconsider it, assuming that you do as told.” 

Dunbar’s head snaps up at that, his eyes clearly focused on the teacher that currently holds his destiny in her ring-clad hands. 

“You have to make sure Mr. Raeken here feels at ease in our school, and I want a ten page essay on our last lesson’s topic on my desk by next, uh, let’s say, Wednesday. Understood?” 

Theo has to physically stop himself from chuckling out loud at the sight of the downright horrified expression on Dunbar’s face, blue eyes as wide as saucers and mouth agape. 

“ Understood ?” Mrs. Finch repeats once again, that terrifying smile still stuck to her face. 

“Uhm, yeah. Yes.” Dunbar replies, coughing in his fist to hide his rather evident grimace. 

“Alright. Then get to whatever you must do. Hop hop!” Mrs. Finch claps her hands together all of a sudden, making both boys jump in their seats, before ultimately turning her entire attention to the papers on her desk. 

Theo slowly turns in his chair, unsure on what to do exactly. He ponders for a moment on whether to stand up or remain where he is, his leg bouncing up and down. 

“C’mon,” Dunbar has apparently decided for both of them, already standing next to the door with his arms crossed over his chest, looking like the biblical depiction of exhaustion. 

Bold of him to be the one exhausted , Theo thinks to himself as he reluctantly grabs his backpack and follows the other boy down the hall, questioning how long it has been since someone has cared enough to repaint the walls. 

-------------

“Are you gonna murder me?” Theo asks when, after - like - ten minutes of walking, they still haven’t reached their destination point. 

“Still debating the best method. What do you think, throttling or simple throat slitting?” 

“Ohh, kinky.” 

At that, Dunbar doesn’t even stop his march and simply kicks Theo in the shin, hard enough to actually leave him clutching his leg for a moment. He doesn’t let the other boy see that, of course. 

“Wow, that wasn’t that bad. You know, given your smurf-sized legs.” Theo mocks him, this time ducking out of the way before he can receive another kick. 

“Are you forgetting this is my school? I know all the best hiding spots for your dead body.” 

“Bold of you to assume you could get close enough,” 

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Dunbar spits, dropping his backpack on the ground and staring at Theo with his eyes basically lit up like torches. 

Theo stares back, holding his gaze for the right amount of time to plan a swift escape, before inching closer to Dunbar’s face. 

“You’d have to catch me first.” He whispers, smirking at the other boy before taking off down the hall and in the nearest room. He faintly hears Dunbar swearing to himself, or muttering something suspiciously close to a string of wildly graphic threats while he sprints after Theo, probably questioning to himself and the universe what exactly he has done to deserve such cruel punishment. 

Funnily enough, Theo is actually hiding (“hiding”) in the changing room, curled up under a locker with the metal slightly bent inwards and a maroon shirt hanging out through the crack. He doesn’t give it much thought, other than asking himself what the fuck those boys do in there, too busy trying to desperately control the laughter that keeps bubbling up his throat. His breath hitches when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching and slightly quieting down, no doubt Dunbar trying to bag the surprise effect. 

“We have to stay here for four hours . I am not wasting my time like this.” Dunbar yells, and Theo can literally hear his upside-down frown from the tone in his voice as he tries to spot him from his half-assed hiding place. 

It takes Dunbar about two seconds to find him, but in his defense Theo has to admit that thirty seconds isn't enough time to figure out a decent hiding spot, especially when you’re being chased by someone’s who’s actually quite fast (not that he would ever admit it), and that his critical thinking skills are severely stunted by the lack of sleep in his system. 

Whatever.

“Did you really hide under my locker?” Dunbar asks, his brows furrowed in confusion and slightly tinged with disbelief.

“Didn’t know that. Though I should’ve guessed from the state of it.” Theo replies, slowly stepping backwards until his back hits the wall behind him. 

“You’re so fucking infuriating , you know that?” His eyes are basically reduced to slits now, and Theo thinks that if they were in a cartoon, his head would be fuming right now. 

“Bold of you to say that,” Theo spits back, not a single clue of what to do now. Surprisingly enough, the universe seems to like him, or at least stand him enough to give him an amazing escape plan. 

In a swift movement, he flicks his wrist and turns on the shower Dunbar’s currently under, watching as the gelid spray of water soaks the boy to the bone. 

Oh, well. 

The expression on Dunbar’s face is honest-to-god priceless. Seriously, Theo wishes he could take a picture and hang it on his bedroom wall or something. 

After the shock has run out of him, Dunbar turns the shower off, but against Theo’s predictions, he doesn’t try to attack him or anything. Instead, he remains right where he is, breathing in and out in a way that makes his whole chest heave. 

In a second, he leans over and turns the shower back on, this time the water directly hitting Theo on the back of his head. He ducks out of it as soon as he can, but his clothes are already sopping wet and his bangs are flat on his forehead, covering his glowering eyes. 

“Man, you gotta cut your hair,” Dunbar breaks the shocked silence after what feels like ages, and that’s about all it takes for Theo’s - already thin - patience to snap in half. 

“You motherfuck-” he starts, brows knit together and fists balled up, when a third voice chimes in. 

“What the fu- hell are you two doing?!” 

Both boys freeze in place, Dunbar’s shirt caught in Theo’s fists and his arm raised in the air, turning their heads to the side. 

Next to the door, with a lacrosse stick clutched in his hand and his wild hair even worse than usual, the mad scientist/coach of BHHS is standing. 

“Uhm, I- hugging?” Dunbar blurts out sounding embarrassingly unconvinced, immediately wrapping his arms around Theo with way too much energy to be considered amicable. His attempts to free himself from his grasps fail miserably, and Theo limits himself to subtly kicking the other boy in the shin. 

“‘Cause we’re such good friends!” Dunbar adds, and again, Theo would like to dig a hole in the ground and bury both of them in it. 

Their little hug-thing breaks off, leaving them standing awkwardly in front of a rather amusingly confused coach. 

Theo playfully punches Dunbar on the shoulder, hoping that it at least looked playful with the amount of force he put it in. Dunbar’s face twists into something halfway through a smile and a grimace, before stepping on Theo’s foot with all the strength in his tiny body. 

“Part of me wants to ask, the other part says knowing would be more disturbing than anything I could ever imagine, So. I, uh, I’m gonna walk away,”

And with that, his hands in the air like a distressed lady and the expression on his face the true depiction of horror, the man staggers out of the room, leaving the boys with painfully awkward smiles painted on their faces. 

“One thing, though. Get to fucking work.” Coach’s head appears once again, raising the stick in the air in a rather threatening manner. Though anything could look threatening in his hands. 

“What the fuck was that ?!” Dunbar yells when he hopes Coach is out of earshot. 

“Oh- You tell me! And get away from me!” Theo shouts back, jumping back when he realizes Dunbar’s arm is still firmly placed around his shoulders. 

“You started this! Like you always do! I can’t fucking stand to be around your egocentric ass all the time!” 

“Really? I was under the impression you always seemed to find me , what’s up with that, uh?” 

“Oh, how dare you, you motherfuckin-” before he can finish, Theo has already covered his mouth with his hand, shushing him. 

“Don’t- ugh- don’t fucking shush me!” Dunbar tries to say, but the words are muffled by Theo’s hand. He just hopes the other boy won’t lick his palm. 

“Shut up!” He snaps back, straining his ears to understand if there are actual footsteps or if he’s just going crazy from staying in Dunbar’s company for too long. 

“I’m not shutt- get away-” And honestly, he wonders if Dunbar talks even while he’s asleep, and how the hell his friends can stand to be with him on their own accord .

“Don’t you ever use your ears? Teacher’s coming, get to work-” That’s about the amount of information Theo gives him before shoving the boy violently across the room and pretending to organize the lacrosse sticks thrown on the ground pretty much everywhere around them. 

“Is everything okay?” Mrs. Finch asks in a pinched tone as she pushes her glasses up her nose like a TV stiffy librarian, and Theo has to thank whoever’s above that her bracelets can be heard from states away. 

“Totally wonderful. We are absolutely working amazingly.” Dunbar reassures her with a wide grin, and a wave (honestly, what is this dude’s problem??) 

‘Totally wonderful?!’ Theo mouths from across the room when the teacher has left the room with a stiff nod. 

Dunbar throws his hands up in the air in response and mouths ‘I panicked!’ back, the cardboard box full of lacrosse balls falling on the floor from where he put it down precariously on the edge of the bench. 

“Oh, trust me I saw.” Theo replies, picking up a ball and weighing it in his hand, before launching it at the other boy with a quick “watch out!” as the only warning. 

“Dick.” Dunbar deadpans, catching the ball with no apparent effort whatsoever. 

Theo has to give it to him, it was slightly - slightly - impressive. Alright, whatever. 

“Ass.” He responds, rolling his eyes. 

-------------

“Dunbar, check this out, it looks just like you!” Theo snickers as he holds up what looks like a dead rat, or at least something adjacent to that. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of not being funny?” Dunbar replies, rolling his eyes and grimacing at the sight of the dead animal. 

“If you’re the judge of fun, then I’m glad, ” Theo inches closer, still holding the rat with his fingers and swinging it in front of the other boy’s face.

“Ew, ew, eww , get that shit away from me!” Dunbar yelps and backs up, trying to put as much distance as he can and as fast as possible between him and Theo’s new pet. 

“Dude, weren’t you like a boy scout? Chill out.” He throws the rat in the bin at his feet, and shakes his head to get the hair out of his face. 

“ Yeah , and I didn’t like dead animals back then either.” 

“Hey, at least the big, black spider on your shoulder is alive,” Theo tells him with a smile, but before he can even finish his sentence Dunbar is already running around, screaming at him to ‘get rid of the ugly monster’ before it ‘kills him slowly and painfully’. 

“C’mere. It’s a spider, not a lion, calm down .” Theo shakes his head in amusement as he picks up the spider from the other boy’s shoulder and puts it down on the ground. 

“There, no need to get your panties in such a twist.” 

“Mind about your panties, thank you very much.” 

Theo lets out a huffing laugh and takes off one of his gloves to fish out his ringing phone from his jeans, mindlessly scuffing his foot against the ground.

“Weren’t supposed to give that to Mrs. Finch?” Dunbar inquires, catching the opportunity to stop doing his work (like every five minutes, mind you) and get lost in whatever’s interesting enough this time. 

“So were you,” Theo says, not moving his eyes from where they’re inspecting his nails. 

“Clichè,”

“It’s touché, you idiot ,” Theo rolls his eyes disbelievingly at Dunbar’s painful ignorance, turning back to his phone call a beat later.  “Sure. Bye.” He says, before placing his phone back in his back pocket. 

“Who was it? Your girlfriend?” Dunbar asks him, a strange tinge to his tone that Theo can’t quite decipher.  

“It was my sister, you noisy ass.” He replies, putting the glove back on. 

They work in silence for a couple of minutes more, the rustling of their utensils the only sound until Dunbar’s attention span runs dry again. 

“Why do you remember it?” He questions, his voice cool and his gaze on a singular leaf on the ground. 

“What?” Theo snaps his head at the sound of his voice.

“Why do you remember it? I mean, the boy scout thing,” He asks again, lifting his eyes to meet Theo’s. 

“Oh. You told me, back when-” Theo straightens when he understands, coughing in his fist to avoid finishing his sentence. 

“Uhm, yeah. Thought you’d forgotten about it.” 

“I didn’t. Why?”

“No reason, just curious.” Dunbar suddenly drops his gaze, picking at a loose string on his shirt with a shrug, and Theo shakes his head and blinks before turning back to what he was doing. 

-------------

“I’m gonna drown you, if you don’t quit being a dickhead,” Theo spits out after he’s been hit on the back of his head with a tennis ball. (He doesn’t even want to know where it came from, not really.) 

“It’s hard when you look like that ,” Dunbar replies, throwing yet another ball. 

“Oh, is that a compliment? How cute,” He says, catching with both hands the evil little yellow things flying at his head. The next one catches him squarely in the chest, and hits the ground before rolling off inside the pool. 

“Shit aim for a lacrosse player,” Theo raises his eyebrows, dropping the balls on the floor and watching them join the first one by one. 

“Maybe I was aiming at your chest,” Dunbar says, sounding anything but convinced. 

“Sure, sweetheart, whatever you say.”

That’s enough to make Dunbar back up and trip over one of his tiny neon weapons, resulting in him falling in the pool with a yelp of surprise and flailing arms. 

Before he can go down, he manages to grab Theo by the ankle, dragging the boy on top of himself as they both crash into the cold water. 

-------------

“Didn’t know you listened to good stuff, very rebellious,” Theo says after a while, and - weirdly enough - he doesn’t even have his usual biting tone when he speaks. (Okay, maybe just a bit.) 

“Ha. Very funny.” Dunbar replies mindlessly, still staring at the sky above. 

They’re both lying on two benches, uncomfortable as fuck and still wet from when they decided to have a little swim break, but neither of them seems too bothered to actually stand up. 

“I’m serious. I like this song.” Theo repeats once again, hoping to sound slightly more convincing. 

“I know.” The other boy says quietly. 

“What?”

“You played it a couple of times. Back then.” His voice sounds small, unsure, and Theo has to strain his ears to actually catch the whole sentence. Nonetheless, he can’t help but let a tiny smile stretch across his face at the thought.  “You're not the only one who remembers.”