(abz) faith
Title: Faith
Fandom: Altar Boyz
Characters: Matthew, Mark, Luke
Notes: Written by thespian_geek and myself. Oddly enough, this story has a cast: Scott Porter as Matthew and Kevin Kern as Mark.
“Why are we doing this again?” He asked, struggling to keep up with his older friend’s longer strides.
“You need to look like you can defend yourself, Mark. I won’t always be there to protect you, you know. Of course, I don’t want it getting to the point where you actually have to defend yourself... I won’t encourage physical violence. But I have faith that you can do this.” Matthew glanced over his shoulder, and feeling a slight pang of guilt at noticing that Mark was having problems keeping up, slowed his pace a little.
Mark finally found himself beside Matthew, a hand coming to rest on his chest as he gave his friend a very grateful look for the change of pace. “Okay.” He smiled brightly, brushing his brown curls out of his eyes.
They turned a corner, Matthew taking his strides as normal, Mark not noticing the slight hop in his step.
“Oooh! I’ve never been here before,” Mark exclaimed. His eyes went wide at the sight of the large building in front of them, the letters Y-M-C-A plastered in bright red across the side. Almost as if by second nature, he stopped in his tracks and immediately broke out into song and dance.
“Mark.” Matthew turned at the front of the building, ready to open the door.
“Young man, there’s a place you can go. I said, young man, when you’re short on your dough…”
“Mark!”
“You can stay there, and I’m sure you will find many ways to have a good time. Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun; it’s fun to stay at the Y-M…”
“MARK!”
“…c-a.” Mark looked at Matthew, his voice sadly trailing off. After a moment of realization in which he noticed people were staring, he quickly lowered his gaze and hurried toward Matthew and through the doors. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he went past.
“Hey, hey.” Matthew reached out and grabbed Mark’s arm gently, giving his hair a bit of a ruffle with his free hand. “It’s okay, little man. Just…”
“What?” Mark’s face fell a little.
“Nothing. Nevermind.” He smiled and gestured toward the locker rooms at the end of the hall. “Down there.” Matthew let go of Mark’s arm, much to Mark’s silent dismay, and led the way to the door at the end of the hall. Just as his hand was about to push on it, the door swung open and Luke came wandering out, headphones over the top of his sideways baseball hat, gym bag slung over his shoulder. Luke stopped for a second when he noticed Matthew and Mark, and gave a half-grin.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Mark chimed in last.
Matthew and Mark watched Luke disappear down the hall and looked at each other, both shrugging a little as they made their way into the empty locker room. Matthew dropped his black Nike bag on one of the benches and unzipped it, Mark quickly following suit with his own pink Nike bag.
After disappearing into separate areas of the room, they returned to their things a few moments later to lock them up. Matthew froze, staring at Mark for a moment, his eyebrow raising up slightly at the sight before him.
“Um… what are those?”
Mark cocked his head to the side in confusion and then glanced down at the leg warmers hiding his ankles and calves. “Those?” When Matthew nodded, he blushed a little, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Th- they’re vintage!” He turned a little, completely mortified by his own words and side-glanced at Matthew. “Or… well… that’s… uh.” Mark blushed again and quickly slipped the leg warmers off, shoving them back into his bag before tugging his sneakers back on.
Deciding not to comment further, Matthew nodded his head toward the door and made his way out into the hallway, as Mark quickly gave himself a once over in the mirror. The knowledge that soon he would no longer look like the skinny boy he saw in his reflection suddenly hit him, and he silently followed Matthew out to the exercise equipment.
(One Year Later)
It was late - well, later than Mark normally liked to be out - and he was alone and completely aware of the fact that he was keeping Matthew waiting. This obviously called for some brisk speed walking toward his home, especially considering the sun was nearly down.
He tugged the blue jacket he was wearing closer to his frame, trying to avoid the chilling bite of the October wind. Just as he rounded the corner to his street, a pair of scrawny, nearly fifteen year old boys appeared as if out of thin air. Mark eyed them, feeling his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as he realized who they were - boys he hadn’t seen in nearly three years.
“Haha, look here. It’s whatshisface. That little fairy.”
“Long time, no see.”
“Have you got a razor? I’ve missed this.”
Mark felt himself flush, and when he tried to get past them without further interrogation, one of the boys grabbed him roughly around the wrist and pulled him down to the ground face first. Mark let out a soft whimper of pain as his hands scraped against the cement. Someone knelt on his back, grabbing his jacket by the collar and jerking it from his arms and shoulders.
Suddenly he felt himself being rolled over and winced. The situation of what was happening was all-too-familiar and memories came rushing back to him as if the boys had never ceased to torment him. Fighting the urge to cry out, he let his eyes wander past their hateful faces and caught sight of the stars twinkling against the darkening sky. The memory of when Matthew had saved him from these very same boys came back to him in a sudden rush, and without thinking, he roughly shoved the boy closest to him and scrambled to his feet.
“Oooh, tough… guy…”
The boy’s voice trailed off as Mark-- exceedingly grateful for the growth spurt he’d had a few months back-- stood to his full height, the definition of his muscular arms and broad shoulders visible against the tight t-shirt he was wearing.
Mark stood there for a moment, at a loss for the right words to further intimidate the boys. As if his prayer was answered, Mark puffed out his chest a little and forced his voice as deep as it would go. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems as if the two of you are at a severe disadvantage.” His head fell to the side slightly, his eyes never leaving the boys, and he took a step forward as his arms crossed over his chest. “Am I wrong?”
The boys were momentarily frozen like deer-in-the-headlights before throwing a quick glance over Mark’s shoulder. One shook his head quickly and grabbed his friend, dragging him down the street and away from Mark who stood there proudly, oblivious to the fact that Matthew had been silently approaching from behind.
When Matthew’s hand come to rest on Mark’s shoulder, he jumped a little out of surprise. “Oh! You didn’t see, did you? I just scared off those thugs! And all on my own! You were right, Matt.”
“Right? About what?”
Mark swept his jacket up off the ground and slipped it back on, hooking the zipper in place and sliding it up so the wind was once again off of him.
“You said you had faith that I could do this, and I did. So you were right.”
Matthew grinned broadly and gave Mark’s shoulder a squeeze, his free hand lifting to ruffle his hair in the playful manner he always did. “Good job, litt-…” He chuckled as he sized up his friend. “Good job, Mark. I’m really proud of you.”
Mark’s face lit up. Suddenly, he remembered that he’d been on his way back to his house - where Matthew was supposed to be - and gasped a bit. “Oh! We should probably get back to my house. My mother is probably worried sick! Though does she have the cookies ready? I could really use one right now.”
Matthew laughed, pulling a folded up napkin out of his pocket. “Here.”
Mark took it and unfolded the paper, nearly squealing in delight at the sight of two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. “Ah! Thank you, Matt.” He grinned, breaking one of the cookies in two and chewing happily on one part, offering the other to his friend.
Each savored the taste of their cookie as they made their way down the street back towards Mark’s house, and both glanced over his shoulder quickly at the spot where the night’s events had just unfurled - Mark perfectly content with how things had turned out and Matthew not saying a word otherwise.
- October 17, 2005
Fandom: Altar Boyz
Characters: Matthew, Mark, Luke
Notes: Written by thespian_geek and myself. Oddly enough, this story has a cast: Scott Porter as Matthew and Kevin Kern as Mark.
“Why are we doing this again?” He asked, struggling to keep up with his older friend’s longer strides.
“You need to look like you can defend yourself, Mark. I won’t always be there to protect you, you know. Of course, I don’t want it getting to the point where you actually have to defend yourself... I won’t encourage physical violence. But I have faith that you can do this.” Matthew glanced over his shoulder, and feeling a slight pang of guilt at noticing that Mark was having problems keeping up, slowed his pace a little.
Mark finally found himself beside Matthew, a hand coming to rest on his chest as he gave his friend a very grateful look for the change of pace. “Okay.” He smiled brightly, brushing his brown curls out of his eyes.
They turned a corner, Matthew taking his strides as normal, Mark not noticing the slight hop in his step.
“Oooh! I’ve never been here before,” Mark exclaimed. His eyes went wide at the sight of the large building in front of them, the letters Y-M-C-A plastered in bright red across the side. Almost as if by second nature, he stopped in his tracks and immediately broke out into song and dance.
“Mark.” Matthew turned at the front of the building, ready to open the door.
“Young man, there’s a place you can go. I said, young man, when you’re short on your dough…”
“Mark!”
“You can stay there, and I’m sure you will find many ways to have a good time. Dun, dun, dun, dun, dun; it’s fun to stay at the Y-M…”
“MARK!”
“…c-a.” Mark looked at Matthew, his voice sadly trailing off. After a moment of realization in which he noticed people were staring, he quickly lowered his gaze and hurried toward Matthew and through the doors. “I’m sorry,” he murmured as he went past.
“Hey, hey.” Matthew reached out and grabbed Mark’s arm gently, giving his hair a bit of a ruffle with his free hand. “It’s okay, little man. Just…”
“What?” Mark’s face fell a little.
“Nothing. Nevermind.” He smiled and gestured toward the locker rooms at the end of the hall. “Down there.” Matthew let go of Mark’s arm, much to Mark’s silent dismay, and led the way to the door at the end of the hall. Just as his hand was about to push on it, the door swung open and Luke came wandering out, headphones over the top of his sideways baseball hat, gym bag slung over his shoulder. Luke stopped for a second when he noticed Matthew and Mark, and gave a half-grin.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Mark chimed in last.
Matthew and Mark watched Luke disappear down the hall and looked at each other, both shrugging a little as they made their way into the empty locker room. Matthew dropped his black Nike bag on one of the benches and unzipped it, Mark quickly following suit with his own pink Nike bag.
After disappearing into separate areas of the room, they returned to their things a few moments later to lock them up. Matthew froze, staring at Mark for a moment, his eyebrow raising up slightly at the sight before him.
“Um… what are those?”
Mark cocked his head to the side in confusion and then glanced down at the leg warmers hiding his ankles and calves. “Those?” When Matthew nodded, he blushed a little, toying with the hem of his shirt. “Th- they’re vintage!” He turned a little, completely mortified by his own words and side-glanced at Matthew. “Or… well… that’s… uh.” Mark blushed again and quickly slipped the leg warmers off, shoving them back into his bag before tugging his sneakers back on.
Deciding not to comment further, Matthew nodded his head toward the door and made his way out into the hallway, as Mark quickly gave himself a once over in the mirror. The knowledge that soon he would no longer look like the skinny boy he saw in his reflection suddenly hit him, and he silently followed Matthew out to the exercise equipment.
(One Year Later)
It was late - well, later than Mark normally liked to be out - and he was alone and completely aware of the fact that he was keeping Matthew waiting. This obviously called for some brisk speed walking toward his home, especially considering the sun was nearly down.
He tugged the blue jacket he was wearing closer to his frame, trying to avoid the chilling bite of the October wind. Just as he rounded the corner to his street, a pair of scrawny, nearly fifteen year old boys appeared as if out of thin air. Mark eyed them, feeling his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as he realized who they were - boys he hadn’t seen in nearly three years.
“Haha, look here. It’s whatshisface. That little fairy.”
“Long time, no see.”
“Have you got a razor? I’ve missed this.”
Mark felt himself flush, and when he tried to get past them without further interrogation, one of the boys grabbed him roughly around the wrist and pulled him down to the ground face first. Mark let out a soft whimper of pain as his hands scraped against the cement. Someone knelt on his back, grabbing his jacket by the collar and jerking it from his arms and shoulders.
Suddenly he felt himself being rolled over and winced. The situation of what was happening was all-too-familiar and memories came rushing back to him as if the boys had never ceased to torment him. Fighting the urge to cry out, he let his eyes wander past their hateful faces and caught sight of the stars twinkling against the darkening sky. The memory of when Matthew had saved him from these very same boys came back to him in a sudden rush, and without thinking, he roughly shoved the boy closest to him and scrambled to his feet.
“Oooh, tough… guy…”
The boy’s voice trailed off as Mark-- exceedingly grateful for the growth spurt he’d had a few months back-- stood to his full height, the definition of his muscular arms and broad shoulders visible against the tight t-shirt he was wearing.
Mark stood there for a moment, at a loss for the right words to further intimidate the boys. As if his prayer was answered, Mark puffed out his chest a little and forced his voice as deep as it would go. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems as if the two of you are at a severe disadvantage.” His head fell to the side slightly, his eyes never leaving the boys, and he took a step forward as his arms crossed over his chest. “Am I wrong?”
The boys were momentarily frozen like deer-in-the-headlights before throwing a quick glance over Mark’s shoulder. One shook his head quickly and grabbed his friend, dragging him down the street and away from Mark who stood there proudly, oblivious to the fact that Matthew had been silently approaching from behind.
When Matthew’s hand come to rest on Mark’s shoulder, he jumped a little out of surprise. “Oh! You didn’t see, did you? I just scared off those thugs! And all on my own! You were right, Matt.”
“Right? About what?”
Mark swept his jacket up off the ground and slipped it back on, hooking the zipper in place and sliding it up so the wind was once again off of him.
“You said you had faith that I could do this, and I did. So you were right.”
Matthew grinned broadly and gave Mark’s shoulder a squeeze, his free hand lifting to ruffle his hair in the playful manner he always did. “Good job, litt-…” He chuckled as he sized up his friend. “Good job, Mark. I’m really proud of you.”
Mark’s face lit up. Suddenly, he remembered that he’d been on his way back to his house - where Matthew was supposed to be - and gasped a bit. “Oh! We should probably get back to my house. My mother is probably worried sick! Though does she have the cookies ready? I could really use one right now.”
Matthew laughed, pulling a folded up napkin out of his pocket. “Here.”
Mark took it and unfolded the paper, nearly squealing in delight at the sight of two freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. “Ah! Thank you, Matt.” He grinned, breaking one of the cookies in two and chewing happily on one part, offering the other to his friend.
Each savored the taste of their cookie as they made their way down the street back towards Mark’s house, and both glanced over his shoulder quickly at the spot where the night’s events had just unfurled - Mark perfectly content with how things had turned out and Matthew not saying a word otherwise.
- October 17, 2005