Jonny Lee Miller Fandom

It had been a month since you’d moved to your new school and Tommy and Lizzy instantly took you under their wing, sitting with you at meals, keeping you company at the library while you “studied”, mostly messing around in the back of the room away from the watchful, derisive eye of the librarian.

Tommy let himself be defeated, and you returned your gaze to your assignment. The work was particularly difficult that day, and the numbers swam before you. You put your head down, trying to focus until you were distracted by the appearance of a suit jacket and the glint of a belt buckle in the corner of your eye, and you felt the gaze of the wearer burn into your head.

You looked up to see two men standing before you, grinning down at you. They sparked your curiosity - you hadn’t seen them around before. One stood with his hands in his blazer pockets, dark glasses framing his face as the pinstripes of his pants swam in front of your eyes, his hair a shock of ice blonde. The other stood next to him, rubbing the back of his buzzed head, his short, bright crop top revealing a flash of skin.

You looked back up at them, almost as a challenge. You’d be lying if you said they didn’t intimidate you a little, especially the blonde, his stance oozing an unwavering confidence.

“You’re not gonna introduce your little friend to us, Tommy?” He spoke, smirking down at you, an almost vicious tone to his voice as it cut through the silence of the library, eliciting a harsh “Sh!” from the librarian. His friend laughed.

“(Y/N), Sick Boy and Rent Boy.” Tommy smiled, pointing at them respectively with the tip of his pencil.

You blinked. “Your parents must’ve hated you.” You spoke, prompting them to laugh, Sick Boy’s lip curling upward, revealing his teeth to you in his wicked, strange, endearing smile.

“Nicknames. Mark Renton and Simon David Williamson at your service. Friends call me Renton. We’re friends, I hope?” Renton teased as he slid next to Tommy, slinging his arm around his shoulders.

You raised your eyebrows. “Pending approval.” You retorted. “But since you’re at my service, approval may be given quicker if any of you happen to be good at statistics.” You spoke, pushing your assignment toward them.

Simon slid into the chair next to you, his cologne strong up close as he took the paper in his hand, lighting a cigarette. He glanced at it and plucked your pencil from your hand, scribbling the answers down at a remarkable speed as he nursed the smoke in his other hand, you looking on, completely amazed.

“Do you guys go to school with us?” You questioned.

“No. Too clever for that shite. Rents is too fuckin’ stupid.” Sick chuckled, making astonishing progress on your work as Mark flipped him off almost instinctively. You looked down at him, hunched over your paper, his mess of blonde hair hanging over it. His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he concentrated. He finished the last question with a flourish, sliding the paper back to you.

“Sick Boy, you’re my hero.” You looked up at the work admirably, running your finger over the paper, feeling the ridges in his surprisingly neat scrawl.

He beamed back at you, sliding his arm over your shoulder. Sleazebag, you thought, affectionately. You smiled at him, meeting each other’s gaze.

“Why don’t you watch your hero play footie tonight?” Renton arched an eyebrow, smirking at you two. “Tommy, you coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I can pick you up if you’re coming, (Y/N).” Tommy offered.

You glanced at Simon. “Sure.”

“You’re not allowed to smoke in here.” The librarian nagged, prompting Simon to tear his eyes away from you.

“Sorry.” He spoke, sarcastic, his lips twisted into an overly saccharine smile. He leaned back, pulling a hardcover from the shelf and stubbing the cigarette out on it. The librarian huffed as he and Renton stood, striding toward the door.