lessons learned ♛ august & paxton
paxtoncarlisle:
If anything since he’d come to Barcelona had come as a surprise to Paxton, it was August Farley. It wasn’t that he’d convinced some kid he barely knew to be at his beck and call, that he’d gotten him to make him pancakes not once, but twice — but that he was even in this situation to begin with. That he’d seen a boy who was nearly broken because of how badly he’d been beaten by someone who was far too similar to Paxton’s own self for him to be comfortable with and not walked away. Regardless of the person, if there was one thing Paxton had excelled at over the course of his life other than merely being a bit of a douchebag, it was walking away from people. It was a habit he’d had for a while now, one that had been granted to him due to circumstance, and one that, unfortunately for others who may have wanted to care for him, he’d never been able to break.
Raising a brow at August’s question, Paxton nodded, the motion a little dismissive as he moved to look for a first aid kit in the bathroom. No doubt the company would have been prepared for fights to break out and unless they wanted to foot a hospital bill for something that wasn’t even that bad, but after a few moments of searching, Paxton was forced to give up. “Yeah, you should take your shirt off,” he told the boy, still searching through the cabinets. “Do you know if we have a first aid kit or whatever here? I don’t know if you’ll need it and I’d rather not have the rest of the house find out about,” he paused, gesturing to August. He knew August would take it as Paxton being embarrassed of him, but it wasn’t that at all, rather Paxton trying to protect him from the inevitable teasing that would happen if people knew that Orion had managed to best him in a fight. It wasn’t fair, for people to tease him, but Paxton knew it would happen, therefore if they stayed in this bathroom all night, he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. Wait, what?
He was fucked somehow, because as he listened to August talk, to him admit that no one had ever taught him how to fight, he wanted to help him. To fucking help someone he barely knew, which was something he’d never wanted to do before. Not for anyone. But for whatever reason, the simple confession of something he’d already known was enough to get him to speak. “I’ll teach you,” he muttered under his breath, rationalizing it with the fact that if August knew how to fight properly, he wouldn’t have to help him. But that wasn’t true, because really, he didn’t mind at all. He wanted to, but he didn’t.
Noticing August’s inability to pull up his shirt, Paxton let out a shallow breath before moving to help him, his breath hitching in his chest slightly as he did. But what was worse, actually, was looking at August’s face again. Despite not being the most perceptive person in the world at times — or more accurately not caring to be — Paxton knew that August was nervous now. Nervous about what, Paxton wasn’t sure of, but judging by his comment, Paxton was pretty sure he knew. The boy didn’t like being vulnerable any more than Paxton did, and perhaps this was the moment he ought to have used it. It would save Paxton from any of what this was if he was cruel to the point that he pushed August away now, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t do it. Hell, although Paxton was normally a dick, he knew that he didn’t want to be now. Not with August, not when August was already kicked and down. Letting out a soft sigh, he tugged the shirt all the way off and set it on the counter before returning to cleaning the cuts. A simple motion, but one that held weight, and he still didn’t know why he was doing it. Or maybe he did, fuck.
Hell, maybe he and August weren’t friends. Paxton didn’t care for friends, nor attachment, but regardless of that, he knew he cared enough to help August now. It was strange, unexplainable, but somehow, it was a fact. A fact that he gave light to a moment later, when August tried to give Paxton the very out that he ought to have taken — by telling him he didn’t have to do this. Because well, he didn’t. But he still was.
“You’d do it for me,” Paxton murmured as he dabbed at the other boy’s cuts, taking care to clean them so they wouldn’t be prone to infection later on. It only dawned on him a moment later what he’d said and he frowned, his gaze shifting to linger on the dampened towel in his hand. He’d told August that he thought the favor would have been returned had their roles been reversed, and while he realized now that he believed that, Paxton didn’t know why he believed that. His having faith in people was unheard of, yet he’d all but admitted aloud that he had faith in someone else, someone he barely knew, without even realizing it. Had he been in a bit fouler of a mood, that revelation would have been enough to make Paxton turn away from August entirely, to abandon him and his wounds in that bathroom. But he also knew without thinking that he wasn’t about to do that either, thoughts or not.
Paxton held onto his silence as he continued to clean the cuts, and for the most part, August surprised him by doing the same. No doubt August was embarrassed, but Paxton hadn’t expected him to be so quiet, so scared. It was unnerving for some reason, almost enough so that he moved to speak up, to say something to break the silence, but before he could, August did instead by offering up an explanation for what had happened. One that, although it didn’t surprise him, Paxton found that he could respect. He didn’t know Auden well, having only talked to her a few times and hooked up with her once, but he did know that she didn’t deserve to have been called a whore by someone she’d barely talked to. And he respected August for having the courage to stand up for himself, even if he’d clearly been bad at it. “Orion’s a dick, but a lot of people are,” Paxton said quietly, looking up. “But it was a brave thing to do, going after him. Just try and have backup next time, you know?” He didn’t know why he was offering advice either, but he couldn’t help it.
August was uncomfortable, to say the least. In the short time that he’d been in the house in Barcelona, he’d managed to only make a handful of friends, and none besides Auden would be able to see him like this. Not this weak, not this vulnerable, and certainly not this pathetic over a fight that he’d epically lost. That was why it came as such a surprise when he’d showed up at Paxton’s room, looking every inch of beat up as he felt. August had fully expected to be shoo’d away by the older boy, to be laughed at, but what he’d never expected was being in a small bathroom with him — and definitely not shirtless, either.
It wasn’t as if he was shirtless because he’d taken it off with a lust-hazed mind, and he definitely wasn’t shirtless because Paxton had asked him to be. It was nothing more than to get a closer inspection at the scrapes and bruises along his torso, mostly because August knew nothing about bruises and how quick they took to heal, and mostly because Paxton was probably the most skilled in knowledge over fights. If he’d went to Auden looking like he did, he was sure that he’d be given the same treatment but with a more sincere expression as she tended to his wounds, and the boy didn’t want that. He didn’t want someone’s pity, especially not when he was feeling down already, and he was glad that Paxton seemed to understand that. He didn’t know if it was because the other boy simply didn’t care or if it was another reason entirely, but it was the only thing that had the corner’s of his lips twisting up with thanks.
Truth be told, August didn’t have any idea where the first aid kit was. He’d rummaged through the bathroom when he first arrived at the house, and he remembered seeing one, but where had it been exactly? The boy bit on a bottom lip, wincing at the gesture automatically. He’d all but forgotten that his lip was split open, and he let go immediately. As he watched Paxton rifle through the cupboards, his eyes flickered to medicine cabinet and his mouth parted. “Medicine cabinet,” he mumbled, nodding his head as he remembered where the first aid kit was. “It’s in the medicine cabinet.” And he knew that he probably didn’t need it, sans a few cuts and scratches, but as Paxton continued to talk, he couldn’t help but feel his cheeks darken with color. Was he embarrassed about him coming over for help? August didn’t know what to say to a thing like that, his eyes flickering down to stare at his legs as the other boy found what he needed.
And really, it was surprising how peaceful the atmosphere was in the small space. Despite his nervousness in regards to his feelings towards the other boy, there truly wasn’t any tension at all surrounding them. Perhaps it was because Paxton knew what it was like to be in a fight, but as August found himself staring at him once more, he decided quickly that the other had probably never lost a fight in his life. He looked strong, and determined, and unbeatable — everything August was not. Before Paxton could catch him staring, the younger boy shook his head and kept an indifferent expression towards the entire situation. He was stupid for going into a fight unprepared… and yet, he had, anyways. Even if the fight had been in defense for Auden, he knew that it had been incredibly foolish of him, and one could tell in the way that he acted. Everything about August’s expression to the way that he was slumped over was a good enough reason to see that he was in pain, both mentally and physically. He closed his eyes and tried his hardest not to let out a sigh, not wanting to alert Paxton of his state even more.
But then his eyes were glancing up at the boy as he stood back in front of him, lips parting just the slightest as his knuckles were tended to. I’ll teach you. They were three simple words, and they shouldn’t have held such meaning to August, but they did. They meant the world. Perhaps it was because nobody had ever given August the time of day when it came to learning how to properly defend himself or how to properly kiss a girl, or perhaps it was just because Paxton was being so surprisingly nice to him that it shocked him, but either way, they still stuck with the boy. He would’ve said something had he known what to say to that — thank you would’ve worked, but it sounded odd despite the circumstances — so instead he let himself smile just the teeniest bit, hazel eyes connecting with bright blues as he did so.
August tried everything in his power to keep from sucking in a cliche breath, but try as he might, he couldn’t stop his heart skipping a beat as he truly saw the gorgeous color of Paxton’s gaze. God, they’re so blue. He felt like he could drown in them. The thought was pleasant.
With every light pad of the washcloth on his skin, August did his best not to flinch against the pain. He wanted to look strong for the other boy, wanted to show that even despite his failed attempt at a fight he was strong enough to overcome the pain — and yet, with each small hiss that slipped between his clenched teeth, he knew that the facade wasn’t worth it. Not when Paxton would be able to see right through his walls, regardless. “I would do it for you,” August found himself saying, his head giving an agreeing nod as he spoke. He didn’t know why he was agreeing with him in the first place, because as his gaze studied the broad physique of the other boy, he couldn’t help but think that Paxton wouldn’t need another person by his side. “Although, I don’t think you’d need me. You look like you’d win every fight you’re in.”
He meant the words, he truly did, because compared to him Paxton was… well, he was a god. Perhaps saying that Paxton was a god was pushing it, because he was a normal guy just like anyone else, but it was simply because their personalities were so different from each other. Paxton was confident, cocky, and a little bit rude at times. August had never truly experienced the rudeness firsthand, perhaps maybe on twitter once or twice, but Paxton had never been rude to his face before. Not in person. While Paxton was the epitome of a boy who’d grown up normally, August was everything he wasn’t. Shy would be the first word to describe him — dorky following closely by. He wasn’t nearly as attractive as the other boy, and while he’d gotten a few lingered looks during his high school days, August’s personality chased any possible relationship away once he started talking. That was the reason why he put Paxton on a pedestal, he realized with a start. He wanted to be the type of person that was noticed by him.
Listening to Paxton’s words, the boy nodded his head in agreement, knowing that he was right. “Back-up would be a good idea,” he let out a small sliver of laughter, allowing it to pass through his lips before he was growing quiet again, the tranquil peace easing his nerves as he sat on the counter. He didn’t realize what a big deal it was for Paxton to be helping him out, but as the thought dawned on him more and more, he realized that he hadn’t said anything towards him for it. “Thank you, Paxton,” he murmured, the words barely coming out above a whisper as he watched the cloth wipe away his bloody hands lightly. The softness of his voice was too vulnerable, almost, and he used the pain that shot up him as the cloth rubbed against his knuckle too harshly as an excuse to flinch at both, a blush spreading across his cheeks.
