Sway (You’re Swimming In My Veins)
or: hasan is too big of an idiot to say he likes you, so he gets into fights to get your attention
or: you'll have to pry drunk, frat hasan from my cold dead hands
tw/creepy men, toxic masculinity, drunk people, alcohol, cursing, excessive use of “princess” as a pet name
the music is so fucking loud, you can't hear yourself think. Your hands are wrapped around a red solo cup of water, mostly to try to fit in it, to not draw attention to yourself- your eyes scan the crowd as you nod to the music, even though you don't know what this music is at all-
"You're staring." Your friend comes over, elbows you in your side, a smirk is covered up by the rim of the solo cup.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." You lie,
"Frat guys are gross and I simply like to stare at them like they're creatures at a zoo. Some sort of odd creature to point at in awe."
"Right," Sam, your best friend snorts at your elbow, "And this has nothing to do with that hasan guy, right?"
"hasan," you snort, eyes everywhere but at Sam, “i didn’t even remember that’s his name-“
Sam rolls her eyes, "You need to leave him alone. He's bad news. And no-not in the 'i can fix him' sort of way-in-the-this guy needs to be looked at professionally sort of way."
Your voice drops, "What happened?" You ask, like it's a conspiracy theory. And it almost is, in the way you've heard whispers of him, of the bad things he's done, friends grabbing each other's elbows and pulling each other in close, cupped hands to the others ears when he walks in-but no ones ever elaborated beyond a warning to keep away.
Sam sighs, a deep breath, like it's the weight of the world on her shoulders, even though she's just telling someone else's tragic backstory.
"He's-" another sigh, "Just a dick, okay? He talks with his hands, not his mouth. He's always trying to get into a fight. Just-watch him, alright?"
Your head whips around to the guy pushed in the corner, throwing ping pong balls into red solo cups, stopping long enough to yell and throw his fists over his head.
"We're looking at the same guy, right?" You push.
This guy has a mop of unruly curly hair on top of his head, how he stops every once in a while to nervously mess with it, a too big black hoodie on, these dark bags under his eyes-you wouldn't talk to him for the fun of it, but he definitely doesn't look like he'd cause any real harm.
"Just because someone looks harmless, doesn't mean they are. Remember that. I'll be right back, I gotta tell James we'll be ready to go soon."
and she squeezes your shoulder and is off to find her boyfriend. You roll your eyes, the two of them are practically connected at the hip, and it makes you even more self aware of how alone you are.
"Y'know, you look like a creep in the corner?" A voice enters next to you, making you jump. You've never seen this guy before, short, blonde hair a mop on top of his head. "Did I scare you? I'm scott” when he smiles it reveals a partially toothless smile.
you can feel your heartbeat in your ears. a hard thump in your ears. something is wrong, you can tell.
"N-No, I wasn't scared." You try and play it off with a smile, "My friend Sam is around. I should go look for her. Drunk people, yknow-" you laugh, turning to leave, when he reaches out, his hand grips your wrist, hard.
"Stay."
in the corner, hasan is half listening to his two fraternity brothers attempt to talk politics ("Bruh. if you actually think Trump is bad-“) begging his eyes not to glaze over, just nodding his head, when his eyes meet yours.
Originally, he's caught in almost a dead space stare, just somewhere to rest his tired eyes (he'll insist later that it was just that, nothing more. nothing less.) but when he sees you try and move your arm away from this guy and him advancing on you more, well-
"Hey-" He's by your side before he can even stop himself and his Ma's voice is in his head immediately: why are you putting yourself somewhere you don't belong? but he shakes his head, pushing the thought down deep, "What's the problem over here?"
and he stands up straight, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed, trying to look intimidating because he always insist he isn't scary at all, even if his bruised knuckles say otherwise-
And you look, well-relieved and he hates how visibility less stressed you look now that he's here, like he's some sort of hero or as if he did anything big-
"No problem." The guy speaks right away, a slight slur on his lips that makes hasan roll his eyes.
"I think you should leave, Scott. I think they're uncomfortable." hasan keeps his voice low, you have to strain to hear it over the music.
"I think they're big enough to talk for themselves, yeah?" Scott smiles and it makes your skin crawl, an involuntary shiver coming out as you shrug his hand off your shoulder again.
"Get your hands off of them," hasan is taking a step towards Scott, "I'm not telling you again to leave them alone."
"hasan-"You try, not even knowing this guy, trying to talk him off the ledge, wondering if you're about to see what his reputation is here for.
"Yeah, hasan," Scott smirks, his voice high pitched, obviously making fun of you, "Listen to the little-"
Later, you'll insist you didn't see who threw the first punch, even if you definitely saw hasan’s knuckles collide with Scott's jaw first.
A small crowd forms around the two, and in Scott's defense, he gets a few good punches to hasan’s left eye before he's yanked away by a friend.
Sam finds you, tries to get you to leave, especially after this run in with Scott still has you on edge, but you insist you need to talk to him after his little stunt.
So naturally, that's how you find yourself holding his hand, dragging him upstairs to the bathroom, ripping off the out of order sign on the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. You set the toilet seat down and nudge him to sit down and he does, with a groan as goi go through cabinets.
"I didn't even get a thank you." He mumbles.
"Are-" your head pops out from behind a cabinet, where you're digging to find some kind of disinfectant, your narrowed at him, "are you pouting right now?"
He shrugs, staring straight ahead.
"I'm so sorry, but i can't take you serious with that bag of peas on your face." You manage to finally say, barely getting it out without laughing at him as he sets it on the counter.
"Here," You roll your eyes as you finally squat in front of him (even if he towers over you) "So you don't get an infection at the very least. Jesus, that's a nasty cut."
Your hand touches the edge of it and he winces,
"You sure you know what you're doing, princess?"
You look up long enough to glare at him, pouring some alcohol into the lid, decide his comment doesn't deserve an answer.
Instead, you do what you usually do when you're uncomfortable, and make jokes: "charming. haven’t been called princess in years-“ Sure, you've never talked to him but this feels like something someone would usually add onto the nasty impressions they do off him.
he pulls away as you put your hand to his face, his eyes narrowed, eyebrows one, "thanks, i like to think it’s original-“
You stare at him hard because he has to be joking.
“sure,” you level, knowing he won’t remember this in the morning, “i’m lying.”
He nods, satisfied with himself until he sees you unwrapping various supplies, spreading them out in front of you.
"You sure you know what you're doin', princess?”
your hand is against his face as your try to bite your tongue from pointing out the pet name , instead giving him a hard look as you bring the alcohol soaked pad to his eye.
"Fuck!" He finally yells, his hand flies to yours, rests on top of your hand, "Warn someone next time, why don't ya?"
"Can't handle a little alcohol?" you tease with a smirk, bringing gauze up to his eye to blot at it.
"You're a mess."
"You should see the other guy." He mumbles flatly with a groan, "So-that thank you? i'll take it now."
you finally look up and meet his eyes and he's smirking at you.
"Let me get this straight." You grab the peas and hold them, "you just got into a huge fight-in the middle of a party your frat is hosting and you want me to say thank you?"
"I was defending your honor, princess." He insists, that stupid smirk doesn't leave his face.
"I don't need anyone to defend me, certainly not you." You pick the peas up and put them back on his face, maybe with a little more pressure than necessary you hold them there for a second, "I'm leaving, so i won't be here to patch you up. Don't do anything stupid."
and you turn to leave before you do something stupid, like thank him for helping you, or worse-sees the pink splashed across your face.
three weeks pass before you see him again, and honestly-between midterms, your job and everything else in your life, you almost forget about his existance.
That is, as usual, until your eyes wander over to his again.
He sees you staring, and before your head can whip away from his, he gives you a smirk, a wink, throws back what's left in his cup and makes his way to you.
"Funny seeing you here, princess'" He smirks, leans down to talking your ear.
You roll your eyes, "Your frat is with mine. don't act like i'm here for any other reason."
you don't tell him how happy you are to have someone to talk to, always feel out of place at these parties, and he's like a forgotten puppy in a room at a party and you're happy to see him.
"Nah, not for another fifteen minutes or so” He smirks into his beer bottle, almost empty.
"Sorry."
you can tell by his smirk he isn't sorry at all.
and you aren't either, but you have a role to play up, so you groan.
"I gotta check on Sam, make sure she's still alive." you sigh, standing up, wiping imaginary dust off your pants.
"Awe, come on, princess. just five more minutes."
"Goodnight, hasan." you roll your eyes again, walking away.
so naturally, his first thought when Adam, who's equally as drunk as him, gives him a shove, is well, at least he'll see you again, as his hand collided with Adams jaw.
"we've gotta stop meeting like this." he smirks as he holds up the bag of peas to his nose, the fight now over and he sits on the hard title of the bathroom, his knees to his chest. you only knew about the fight because when people were tending to him after he asked for you specifically, by name.
"Is that the same fuckin' bag from three weeks ago?" you ask instead, "Jesus fuck, do y'all ever grocery shop?"
But, against your better judgment, your opening and closing cabinets for cleaner.
"They're frozen, it's fine." he insists as you kneel on the floor next to him and eh closes his eyes immediately when you sit next to him. "You smell nice." he adds.
"Fuck off, hasan." You groan, but you're grateful his eyes are shut so he doesn't see you blushing.
"i'm only speakin' the truth, princess' he smiles, his eyes shut, and he's feeling too confident-until there's more alcohol on his nose and he's groaning-
by first instinct-purely, first instinct, you insist-your hand reaches out and you wrap your hand around his. "You're fine. this should probably warrant a visit to the hospital." you sigh, his hand "You're fine. this should probably warrant a visit to the hospital." you sigh, his hand stays around yours.
"I'm fine." he sighs, opens one eye, still has his teeth barred from the alcohol. "Just stings a lil is all. Listen, lemme get you a drink.
“Just one."
"if i say no am i going to meet you in the bathroom again to patch you up?" you sigh.
"Probably." he smirks, shrugging. at least he's honest.
"One drink, that's it. And no more fights." he laughs, doesn't say anything at first as he stands, offers his hand and helps you up.
"Deal. c'mon, i know just the place." and you let him wrap his hands around yours, fingers interlocked as he leads the way.
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