#established davejohn

His tone fails to be quite reassuring, and John's fears are assuaged when the boy's right hand catches the side of his jaw and sends him staggering backwards into the desk.

"Faggot," he hisses, stepping forwards and landing a heavy-handed blow to his chest.

John lets out a tiny whimper between gritted teeth, and blinks to clear his vision, still reeling from the right hook.

"You and your boyfriend are fucking up our school's reputation. We were all fucking straight here until you up and came out." He hits, again, and John feels his back touch the wall.

Dion presses forward again, breath coming hot and heavy in his face, and John winces away, squeezing his eyes shut. He's still used to this, but it never gets any easier. Or less terrifying. "Smarten the fuck up, gayboy. Nobody wants you here. Leave before somebody else decides to chase you out." Dion's fist sledgehammers into his stomach, and when he doubles over, light explodes behind his eyes, stemming from Dion's knee to his nose.

He slumps to the ground, shaking arms barely supporting his weight, and tries not to make a sound or cry from the pain. He hears a short, brusque laugh, then receding footsteps, and lets his head drop, squeezing his eyes shut against the tidal wave of black the head rush brings on.

The bell rings, and John pries his eyes open, forcing himself to his feet and gasping in pain as he does so. There's quite a mess of blood on the floor, he realizes, and quietly sets about cleaning it up, glad the teacher was out on call.

But then, he supposes, Dion wouldn't have done that if the teacher was there, would he?

The second bell goes, too, as he's tossing the last of the paper towels in the garbage, and he presses his forehead to the cool brick off the wall for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose in his fingers with another towel to stop the bleeding. Maybe he won't show up to math with a bloody nose and freshly bruised face. He'll already catch enough shit at home (dad doesn't know, so shut up and give him a break) and from Dave (he's only trying to protect you, he cares about you) the next day without having to worry about his last period teacher, too. Rose and Jade will probably only take Dave's side, and as much as he loves his friends, none of them exactly know what it's like, and the way they keep pushing him to fight back, or tell someone...

John shakes his head slowly and moves to grab his books, shoving them in his bag and glancing in the mirror to make sure all the blood is cleaned from his face before stepping out into the hallway.

He's used to being shoved around like this. He knows what to do. He can duck down in his usual corner of the library until last bell, he assumes, quite correctly, then go straight home. Nobody has to know what happened, and he can even finish his science homework early.