Chapter Text
It was Wilson’s first detention. He knew he didn’t deserve it, but he could never make his third period geography teacher believe that. He had gotten dress coded after some jerk stole his gym bag after pe so he had to go to class with his gym shorts, which were apparently ‘inappropriate’ to be wearing in school grounds. Now he was stuck in class that smelt of mold and regret for the next hour, wearing a pair of ripped jeans which he got from lost and found, that were a size too big and most likely older than the school itself.
He noticed the atmosphere in the class was cold, not the tense, uneasy kind, just still, unnatural, if you thought too much about it. It was quiet except the reoccurring sound of Mr Hall’s keyboard keys clicking and the sound of cars honking outside.
There was only one other kid with Wilson in the room, he vaguely recognized him from the school basketball games, what was his name again?
He heard the detention attendant drop his pen, looking up to meet the other boy's eyes “Mr Brando, eyes on your paper.”
Right, Brando.
“Just appreciating nature sir, nothing wrong with that,” he replied, voice glazed in that charming tone that he wears like a medal.
“There is, when you have an essay to write that I set for you, unless you want to come back tomorrow?”
Brando ignored him, leaning back further in his chair, diverting his gaze away from the window to skim through the class, eyes finally locking with Wilson’s. He looked away, but not quick enough to miss Brando’s eyes skimming over him, from his worn out converse to his dark curls.
The minutes passed by too slow, Wilson fighting sleep with every blink. He had practically abandoned the essay, half written sentences were scattered on the paper, his handwriting turning messier down the sheet.
Brando still sat on the desk to Wilson’s left, head now resting on the window next to him, his own paper completely dismissed on the floor beneath him.
The air seemed to still for a moment, too quiet for it to be natural, like the scene in a movie before the climax.
Before Wilson could overthink it, a sound erupted from outside. It all happened in slow motion. Their heads shot up, a sudden noise ringing in their ears. Wilson blinked as if he imagined it before turning his confused gaze towards the window which Brando was leaning on a second ago. A thin crack now formed through the middle of the glass.
Outside was a car, crushed against a light pole. Smoke ascended from its engine, tires flattened against the concrete, the red paint that once perfectly covered it now scraped and dusty. There was now a crowd of people forming, cars making a sudden stop behind it as the passengers rushed out in worry.
That was when the teacher rushed out, muttering something about being right back telling the two boys to stay put.
The door shut with a final click, leaving the two of them alone, still in shock from as they stared at the chaos erupting.
After what felt like an eternity, Wilson stood up, walking towards the broken window. Glass cracked under his weight on every step as he made his way to where Brando was now stood. “This is unusual,” he muttered more to himself than to Brando, gaze still locked on the crushed car.
Brando tilted his head sideways, a confused look painted on his face “Sorry?”
“It’s a school zone, why were they going that fast, I mean, that much impact, it requires speed.” Wilson added, now turning to fully look at Brando.
They sat with that for a while, gaze lingering to the sight every once in a while. Wilson was now sat up on his desk, body facing Brando as his legs dangled off the table.
Without warning, Brando stood up, rubbing his hands to the fabric of his jeans as he strutted towards the door. “Ok,” He sighed, “This was fun, but I’m outa’ here.”
His fingers curled around the cold metal door handle, pulling down it an attempt to open the door. “Huh, that’s weird.”
Wilson hopped off the desk, “What do you mean,” he asked, head tilting in confusion.
Brando tried pulling again, putting more of his weight onto it this time, before answering. “Doors locked.”
Wilson let out a huff of disbelief, making his way over to the door. “No way, let me try.” At that, Brando moved out of the way, making just enough space for Wilson to reach the handle. “Be my guest,” he added, tone knowing and sure.
Wilson rolled his eyes as a reply, holding onto the metal with both hands before pushing down, expecting a click as a sign of freedom, except it was replaced by a soft laugh that sounded like it escaped Brando’s mouth, followed by a loud groan of annoyance.
They stood like that for a second. It was the end of the day, so no one would be here anytime soon, keeping in mind that Mr Hall couldn’t care enough about them to remember to come back.
Wilson slid down beside Brando on the cold floor, head leaning back against the wall behind their backs. The sun had begun to set, casting an orange glow in the classroom.
“So, your names’ Wilson, yes?” Brando started.
”Sorry?”
”I mean, if we’re going to be stuck here all night together we might as well get to know each other.”
”Right,” Wilson gave in, “Yeah, but friends call me Wil.”
“Does that mean I get to call you that?” Brando asked, tone now suddenly teasing.
Wilson tilted his head, squinting his eyes and chewing on his cheek, as if considering. “Sure, if you’re nice enough.”
Brando’s face seemed to light up at that, not too obviously, but Wil could swear he saw the blue of his eyes become a shade brighter, they seemed to glisten in the orange of the sunset.
”Well,” Brando started, dragging out each letter, “you can call me Bran.”
”I’ll think about it,” Wil replied, unable to hide the lazy grin appearing on the corners of his mouth despite the situation they were in.
They sat like that for a while, minutes blurring into hours. Somewhere in the middle of it, Wil had rested his head on Bran’s shoulder, finding a little bit of peace in the situation they were in, eyelids slowly closing as they let sleep consume them, letting it steal away hours of the long night ahead of them
The laid like that for a peaceful hour or so, just two bodies slumped onto each other on the tiles of a classroom floor.
That was until they were disrupted by a sharp demanding noise, jolting them awake.