[fic] Five Times Pyro Didn't Notice Mike Hitting On Him
Part of the Mike/Pyro AUverse
John cursed under his breath, first scratching out his work, then crunching up the paper into a ball and tossing it away. The ball bounced on the desk, rolled to the edge and then, instead of falling off to join the others, bounced up into the air where it was caught and smoothed out.
"Trigonometry. Fun." The guy grinned at him. "In the 'not' sense of the word."
"...right," said John and frowned when the guy dropped into the seat opposite without asking. He looked kind of familiar.
"Mike," the guy supplied. "We've had English Lit together for a few weeks?"
"Uh, right," said John. He had a vague memory of a poem being read out, something about things burning, being made to burn together. It hadn't rhymed, so it had probably been deep or something. John's had contained the word 'fuck' thiry-seven times, although he'd only managed the first fourteen of those before he was stopped.
"You've got your sines and cosines back to front."
"I -- what?"
"Your math?" Mike spread the crumpled sheet out, floating a pen into reach. "You're right up to here, but then you--" He wrote a couple of lines in. "See? You did the rest right, it's just the middle bit."
"You know this stuff?"
"Sure. I mean, looks like you do too, pretty much. You're smart."
"Yeah," said John. "Smart enough to know I have no clue what I'm doing."
"I can show you," Mike said. "I'm always happy to lend a hand when things get hard."
John caught the smirk. Great. Just great. He hated being looked down on. Condescension. People who helped out just to show off they were better than you. Fuck that noise. He snatched the corrected work, and the rest of his stuff. "Yeah," he said. "No thanks."
Mike blinked, face falling. "Oh, hey, no, I didn't mean--"
"Whatever. See you around." He stormed off. Screw math.
#
Three days later, and John ran into Mike again. He almost turned tail, but Bobby -- who had been playing one-on-one with the guy -- called out to him. "John! Hey -- come play! This guy sucks."
"I'm better than you," Mike said, smiling.
"What I said, you suck. John's on my team."
"I've got stuff to do," John said.
"Yeah, right, come on, man."
"I can head out if you want to play together," Mike said.
"Huh?" Bobby looked at him. "No way. You just don't want to get your ass kicked."
"It is a very nice ass," Mike said, waggling it at them as he pulled his sweat-soaked T-shirt off, tossing it aside. The jeans hung low and John could just make out a tattoo in the small of Mike's back, a sun circle with something curled at the center.
"Like I'm looking at your ass," Bobby said, passing Mike the ball.
Mike span it idly, then offered it to John, smiling, a little hesitantly. "Just a game. Clears your head. Makes stuff go away."
"...fine." John took the ball. "Can it make math go away?"
Mike just grinned.
#
The fire alarm went off during his trig test.
"As you wish," Mike said as he sauntered past.
Showoff.
#
They played basketball again. And again. Like a routine. Mostly because Mike seemed to be on the court every time he was.
"I am psychic, you know," Mike said, grinning.
"Bite me," said John with rancour, and stole a basket.
"So, uh." Mike smiled sheepishly. "Can I ask you something weird?"
"You pretty much always do, mate."
"Heh. So, suppose there's this person you like, right? Like, 'like like' like, like. And--" He frowned. "Wow, that was a really bad sentence."
"There's a person you really like," John said. "I got that bit."
"Okay. And say you'd tried being romantic with poetry and stuff, and you'd tried to be all flirty and innuendo, and you'd tried doing stuff for them, and pretty much parading around semi-naked--"
"Which seems to be par for the course for you."
"Uh, yeah." Mike chuckled a little. "I just -- what if you'd done all that stuff and they hadn't noticed you. I mean, if, like, half of it had pissed them off and the other half had just gone right over their heads."
"Stop fucking around and just ask them," said John.
"Will you go out with me?" Mike asked.
"Yeah," John said. "Ask them just like that." He bounced up, sank the ball. "Dude, we playing or what?"
"'What', apparently," said Mike.
John looked blank. Mike sighed, then grinned. "Never mind. I'll get you yet, Allerdyce, you just see if I don't."
"You won the last three games," John said. "I'm pretty sure those powers of yours have fucked up your brain, Mike."
"I wouldn't put it past them," Mike agreed cheerfully. "Let's play."
John cursed under his breath, first scratching out his work, then crunching up the paper into a ball and tossing it away. The ball bounced on the desk, rolled to the edge and then, instead of falling off to join the others, bounced up into the air where it was caught and smoothed out.
"Trigonometry. Fun." The guy grinned at him. "In the 'not' sense of the word."
"...right," said John and frowned when the guy dropped into the seat opposite without asking. He looked kind of familiar.
"Mike," the guy supplied. "We've had English Lit together for a few weeks?"
"Uh, right," said John. He had a vague memory of a poem being read out, something about things burning, being made to burn together. It hadn't rhymed, so it had probably been deep or something. John's had contained the word 'fuck' thiry-seven times, although he'd only managed the first fourteen of those before he was stopped.
"You've got your sines and cosines back to front."
"I -- what?"
"Your math?" Mike spread the crumpled sheet out, floating a pen into reach. "You're right up to here, but then you--" He wrote a couple of lines in. "See? You did the rest right, it's just the middle bit."
"You know this stuff?"
"Sure. I mean, looks like you do too, pretty much. You're smart."
"Yeah," said John. "Smart enough to know I have no clue what I'm doing."
"I can show you," Mike said. "I'm always happy to lend a hand when things get hard."
John caught the smirk. Great. Just great. He hated being looked down on. Condescension. People who helped out just to show off they were better than you. Fuck that noise. He snatched the corrected work, and the rest of his stuff. "Yeah," he said. "No thanks."
Mike blinked, face falling. "Oh, hey, no, I didn't mean--"
"Whatever. See you around." He stormed off. Screw math.
#
Three days later, and John ran into Mike again. He almost turned tail, but Bobby -- who had been playing one-on-one with the guy -- called out to him. "John! Hey -- come play! This guy sucks."
"I'm better than you," Mike said, smiling.
"What I said, you suck. John's on my team."
"I've got stuff to do," John said.
"Yeah, right, come on, man."
"I can head out if you want to play together," Mike said.
"Huh?" Bobby looked at him. "No way. You just don't want to get your ass kicked."
"It is a very nice ass," Mike said, waggling it at them as he pulled his sweat-soaked T-shirt off, tossing it aside. The jeans hung low and John could just make out a tattoo in the small of Mike's back, a sun circle with something curled at the center.
"Like I'm looking at your ass," Bobby said, passing Mike the ball.
Mike span it idly, then offered it to John, smiling, a little hesitantly. "Just a game. Clears your head. Makes stuff go away."
"...fine." John took the ball. "Can it make math go away?"
Mike just grinned.
#
The fire alarm went off during his trig test.
"As you wish," Mike said as he sauntered past.
Showoff.
#
They played basketball again. And again. Like a routine. Mostly because Mike seemed to be on the court every time he was.
"I am psychic, you know," Mike said, grinning.
"Bite me," said John with rancour, and stole a basket.
"So, uh." Mike smiled sheepishly. "Can I ask you something weird?"
"You pretty much always do, mate."
"Heh. So, suppose there's this person you like, right? Like, 'like like' like, like. And--" He frowned. "Wow, that was a really bad sentence."
"There's a person you really like," John said. "I got that bit."
"Okay. And say you'd tried being romantic with poetry and stuff, and you'd tried to be all flirty and innuendo, and you'd tried doing stuff for them, and pretty much parading around semi-naked--"
"Which seems to be par for the course for you."
"Uh, yeah." Mike chuckled a little. "I just -- what if you'd done all that stuff and they hadn't noticed you. I mean, if, like, half of it had pissed them off and the other half had just gone right over their heads."
"Stop fucking around and just ask them," said John.
"Will you go out with me?" Mike asked.
"Yeah," John said. "Ask them just like that." He bounced up, sank the ball. "Dude, we playing or what?"
"'What', apparently," said Mike.
John looked blank. Mike sighed, then grinned. "Never mind. I'll get you yet, Allerdyce, you just see if I don't."
"You won the last three games," John said. "I'm pretty sure those powers of yours have fucked up your brain, Mike."
"I wouldn't put it past them," Mike agreed cheerfully. "Let's play."