for bigkanimaoncampus

[saevio]

[Ronan arrives first at the arranged spot. It's underneath the bleachers at the lacrosse field, secluded, away from possible curious eyes. It's also stuffy, dust rising from the sand beneath his feet. Ronan once again is reminded of how much he hates summer and why he often dresses in tank tops and ripped jeans. Unlike Gansey and even Jackson Ronan doesn't radiate money. It's his arrogance that comes with the Lynch name that gives it away.

He's smoking a cigarette he stole from one of his class-mates. Ronan doesn't usually make a habbit of it, he has far worse - and enjoyable - ones but he's on edge like an addict needing a shot of whatever poison they chose to inject themselves with. He's been good lately, gone to class, got his grades back up, studied, didn't get into fights or drank till he passed out. Too good. It's turned him into a bomb ready to explode. He needs to be defused and Jackson is it. A fight is exactly what he needs. To hurt someone, feel skin split and blood paint his knuckles red. He wants to feel the heat of his own blood trickle down sweaty burned up skin.

Ronan needs his fix and it makes him more dangerous than usual.

The greywaren inhales deeply, smoke burning a violent path down into his lungs and when he exhales he hears Jackson before he sees him. Ronan spits on the ground, flicking away the half smoked cigarette he no longer cares for.]

Thought you were going to be a no show pussyboy.

[Casually he puts his hands inside of his pockets - or so it seems. Truth be told fingers curl into fists there, nails scratching materially to prevent himself from diving right in. Ronan is wired too tightly and it shows, the tension radiating off him almost tangible.]

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[bigkanimaoncampus]

[ The smell of the cigarette burned Jackson's nose even before he saw Ronan, and it did nothing but piss him off further. He hated Ronan. Perhaps even more than he hated Stiles or McCall. Because those two were irritating, but this guy? Jackson thought that when he transferred here that he'd own the school. Just like he'd owned Beacon Hills. But from his very first day he could see that would never be possible with god damn Gansey and his attack dog Ronan around. He knew he wasn't going to be able to make a name for himself, unless he knocked the jerk down a peg or two through something more personal than street racing.

That had been his initial plan. Months ago. Now? He could feel the itch in his fingertips as his claws longed to come out, to tear into that arrogant face. Control had never been his strong suit, but here it seemed to be on a hair trigger. And he blamed Ronan. Of course it couldn't have anything to do with the fact that his usual tactics didn't stand out here. Or that his Porsche didn't stand out in the parking lot. Or that his own brand of scathing judgement was standard in the halls. No it couldn't be any of that which unsettled him. It had to be Ronan. The problem had to be on the outside.

He couldn't hide the tension in his shoulders, or the way he fought to keep from balling his hands into fists, or the sneer on his face. Because every ounce of effort was going toward keeping other aspects at bay. He stepped beneath the bleachers and stopped. It wasn't a hesitation. He instead strained against something inside himself. If he attacked now, there was a very good chance he'd kill Ronan. He wanted to wreck him. He had enough blood on his hands, even if he couldn't remember it. ]

What? And miss out on breaking that stupid face of yours? I don't think so.

[saevio]

[Ronan knows he's stepping into dangerous territory. Jackson is no Declan who, despite being taller than Ronan and older he can still take down because Declan is a fool that feels too much but thinks too little. Jackson isn't like those stupid rich boys in school he's beat up on way more occasions than he can count. He isn't a drunken tweaked out boy at a club Ronan seeks out because he knows they are easy to lure into a fight. Jackson is unpredictable, he's strong and he's dangerous. And Ronan fucking loves it. Jackson is out for blood, the thrill of it almost gets him hard.

Really, there's something wrong with him.]

Bet that gets your dick hard huh?

[A disturbing grin makes it to his face and he cracks a few of his fingers that feel tense, almost as if his skin no longer fits his body and it's mostly noticeable in his hands. Ronan wants to taunt him some more but also feels he wont be able to for long. Somehow he can feel cabeswater, it's whispers an annoying tickle across his skin that only irk him more. There's a warning he ignores and instead he throws himself forward right at Jackson with insanity in his eyes.

There's something he needs to get out and Jackson is a willing victim. The first punch that lands is his own, right against Jackson's perfect goddamn jaw. But he knows better than to think he has the upper hand even if he manages to catch him off surprise and work Jackson to the floor. He needs to dodge punches of his own now and not all are successful. But the blood he feels in his mouth, bitter and hot has him growling enthusiastically as if he let go of his humanity and embraced the animal instinct all humans had still but ignored. He went for the attack once more, his expertise in boxing courtesy of Niall Lynch once more coming in handy. It's satisfying every time a punch lands, but so is receiving them for some odd, masochistic reason.]

[bigkanimaoncampus]

[ That first punch lands across his jaw before he can respond to Ronan's taunt with anything more than a look of disbelief. A twisted of his eyebrows that just said "seriously?" The punch threw him off guard, knocking him off balance. But it only took him finding his balance before he was throwing his own punches.

How long it lasted, he didn't know. Just trading blows. Bloodied lips and hard impacts. And for those seconds or minutes or hours, however long it lasted, he felt normal. It reminded him of locker room fights. Of the lacrosse field. Just letting all of that rage and anger out through something so visceral and human. But there was no denying that he was hitting harder than he should. That his lip would split with one punch and it healed before he threw his own. It wasn't normal. It would never BE normal. Because he'd been dragged away from all that was familiar and all that was perfect. Where he was king and where there were others like him.

But here Gansey was king. And Ronan. Stupid, rough, Ronan was just a stand in for who Jackson wanted to be tearing down.

Something inside him tipped. He was over the line before he realized it, before he had a chance to pull himself back. A well placed blow sent him sprawling to the dirt. He wiped blood from his mouth the back of his hand, eyes snapping up to Ronan. They were brighter than before. Vibrant, unnatural blue. Glowing. Claws dug into the dirt as he snarled, his teeth still straight and flat.

With a roar of unhinged rage, he shoved himself up from the ground, and launched himself at Ronan. ]