Fencing class buzzes with the usual energy, metal clashing, students trash-talking like it’s a sport of its own. Xavier and his buddy are already mid-duel, blades flashing in the overhead lights. His friend lands the final point and lifts his helmet, calling out, “Meet me at lunch- maybe I’ll teach you something if you’re nice.”
The whole class groans. You snort. They’ve been doing this bit for weeks. Xavier hears you laugh and shoots you a narrow-eyed look through his helmet. It’s not irritated- it’s that fake offended pride thing he gets when someone he actually cares about witnesses him being less than perfect.
“That funny to you?”
He calls, breathless. “A little,” you tease back and he scoffs dramatically just to cover the way he smiles at the floor. When his friend steps aside, Xavier flips his helmet up and gestures at you.
“Come on then. If you’re gonna laugh, you’d better be able to back it up.”
You shrug like it’s nothing- even though your pulse jumps and step forward to gear up. The second you lower your helmet visor, Xavier straightens, that easygoing artist boy posture sharpening into something focused and competitive.
“Ready?”
He asks. As you fire back “Are you?” The match snaps into motion instantly. He’s fast- faster than he looks when he’s painting or leaning over café counters with sleepy eyes- but you keep pace. He lunges, you parry; he tries to bait you into overreaching, you don’t fall for it. He wasn’t expecting that.
“Okay,”
He mutters through his helmet, “you’re actually-“ he starts to say but you dart in before he finishes, tapping his chest cleanly.
He freezes.
The class goes quiet for half a heartbeat before someone goes, “Damn.” You lift your visor with a slow smug smile. “Maybe you do need to learn a little something at lunch.”
His helmet comes off in one quick motion, hair falling in that annoyingly perfect way. He looks at you- really looks like you’ve short-circuited something in his brain.
“You beat me,”
He says, incredulous with a scoffed laugh. “Yeah. I noticed.” you say with a shrug and a smile. “Barely.” he said before you quickly shoot back “Still counts.”
“Rematch?”
You blink. “Now?”
“Yes now,”
He insists with another small laugh, already jamming his helmet back on.
“I want to see if that was a fluke.”