The Biggest Loser

Chapter 1: Mocking Me for My Looks

Leaning over the sink in the boy's bathroom, Steven Rogers spit the growing puddle of blood from his mouth and watched it with fascination as it washed down the drain from the running water. Looking up into the mirror before him, he took in his beaten and bloodied appearance with a disgusted look on his face not because of the black eye or the bloodied lip but for how narrow his face was, how scrawny his shoulders looked in his size small white undershirt, and just in general how small he really was. He was a junior for crying out loud and he just got the biggest beat down on the last day of school from a freshman who looked like a forty year old man! Steve just turned eighteen and he still looked like he was ten years old. If he thought about it for too long, Steve was positive the gods—in any religion—were mocking him because no matter how hard he prayed—because that was the Christian thing to do—and no matter what he did he just couldn't get his scrawny body to bulk out like his other classmates.

As a young child, Steve was diagnosed with Asthma therefore making it difficult for his low income family to pay for both sports like football, basketball, and baseball when they had to worry about paying for doctor's visits and prescription inhalers for their son as his condition only seemed to worsen with age. When the blonde was in the sixth grade, he would consider it to be a good day if he could walk to school without needing to take a puff, or two, or three, or four from his inhaler. Now as a junior in high school, well technically a senior now as the school day was over and summer officially began, Steve liked to think he had his condition under control but every once in a while his bronchial tubes would get irritated and force the student to take a puff from his inhaler.

Spitting into the sink once again, Steve made sure that the red discoloration had washed down the drain before turning off the running water and leaning on his palms, taking multiple steady breaths to calm himself down. Closing his eyes against the throbbing pain in his shoulders and head he took a calming breath in and held it in his chest for a long moment before releasing the molecules back into the air and feeling more refreshed than the water felt after he had splashed it on his face when he first came into the bathroom. Startled as the bathroom door swung open, Steve jumped slightly thinking his tormentors had found him and was ready for round two. Relaxing a bit at the sight of another tattered and torn student, Steve frowned when he realized the chubby little guy was having it just as rough as he was.

He recognized him as the school's genius, Tony Stark. They were in the same grade since Tony was bumped up three grades because of how smart he was. It was true that he could have been a college student with how smart he was, but his mother made sure to keep him with high school students his own age rather than showboating him about some university. Steve admired Mrs. Stark for that, knowing mostly that she wasn't ready to let her son go because his mom was just the same. There was a rumor that flooded the school when Tony started his sophomore year that he was actually a girl and was raped over the summer and was now pregnant. That was why many of the guys on the football team teased and taunted him with the nickname of Tanya. Everyone forgot that before school let out the previous spring that Tony had come into school with a broken leg. Steve assumed the doctors had given him steroids as a part of his recovery because of all the weight the boy had gained. But Steve understood his pain because even though they looked nothing alike—Steve his scrawny self and Tony at the unhealthy weight of over two hundred pounds—but the torment they went through on a daily basis was something they could both identify with.

Tony slumped against the ground, making a soft thud as his bottom hit the tiles, and held his head in his hands. Taking pity on the junior—soon to be senior—Steve pulled a few paper towels from the dispenser and ran it under the cold water in the sink. Once saturated and chilled to the touch, Steve carefully stepped over to his fellow classmate and pulled the boys hands away from his bloodied face. "Here, this might help." Lifting the dark haired teens face by his chin, Steve starred into the mocha colored eyes as he gently went to dab the chilled towel to the swelling just above Tony's right eye.

He hissed and jerked away before Steve's hands followed and resumed the gentle touch, something he was familiar with as his mother did this motion constantly with himself. "You don't have to baby me." Tony slurred as his eyes darted into the corner of the bathroom to stare at the blue paint on the walls.

Steve bit his bottom lip, wondering why he was actually being nice to the school nerd. Maybe it was because they were both classified as weak and they could understand the other's pain, but it didn't really matter as Steve had never done this for anyone else before. "Stop moving so much," Steve snapped irritably.

Tony huffed in annoyance and allowed himself to be babied by this stranger for a few more moments before he jerked away and stood up. Moving over to the sink, he leaned over it and emptied the blood from his mouth into the drain. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Tony glanced over his shoulder with a cold stare fixed on Steve. "What, you want to bash my head in too? Wait till August, I feel like I have a concussion." Touching his forehead to the cool ceramic of the sink by bending forward, Steve quickly moved to catch the falling junior. Struggling to support the teen's weight, Steve awkwardly maneuvered them around until Tony was leaning against the wall again.

"You don't look so good." Steve stated flatly, eyeing the student carefully and watching Tony's eyes droop. "I'll be right back; I'm going to go get a teacher."

Tony tried to protest, holding his hand up to catch Steve's pants in his fingers but missed as his muscles were too weak to hold onto the fast moving blonde. He'd had classes with Steve a few times before, most of them his literature and fine arts classes that he absolutely hated taking, and could hardly remember a time where the two spoke more than three words to each other. Why Steve was being so nice to him was beyond Tony's concussed reasoning, but he was grateful when a few moments later Steve and the school's P.E. teacher rushed in to asses Tony's slowly reclining condition.

"Tony! What happened, Steve?"

Everything was a blur of flashing lights and loud sirens. He wasn't sure why he followed Tony in the medical unit and to the hospital, but he did and now he found himself waiting impatiently besides the barely conscious teen waiting for the results of his MRI. The ER staff had given the dark haired braincase two Vicodin tablets for the pain and Steve found himself shocked that ten minutes later Tony was still whimpering from the pulsating pain in his head. He tried to reason to himself that the reason he'd followed was because he wanted to make sure his classmate was going to be okay, and that his mother wouldn't expect him home for another few hours when she returned from her shift at the hospital, but he couldn't really call Tony a friend as they hardly interacted at school but yet he found himself bending over backwards for the pudgy teen. Steve released an aggravated sigh.

"Steve, what are you doing here?" His cobalt eyes quickly darted to the entry way only to spot his seemingly upset mother. He should have expected that she would find him. Quickly crossing the small observation room to pull her son's chin up so she could inspect the damage on his face, she slowly uncurled her fingers and crossed her arms over her chest. Giving her teenage a firm look her bright blue eyes glared daggers into her son's soul. "What happened?"

"I got into another fight." Steve darted his eyes and let them settle anywhere besides the hurt look on his mothers face.

"Are those children still picking on you, baby?"

"I can handle it, momma—"

"—clearly you can't! Look at yourself, Steven, you look like you went ten rounds with a semi-truck!" Steve laughed to himself as the freshman who had done the damage could easily be mistaken for a Mac Truck.

"I feel like I did too." He replied offhandedly, suddenly wishing he hadn't.

"So this is a joke to you now?" Dropping her head into the palm of her hand, the RN took a step back and quickly shook off her son's discourteous reply. "I'll go talk to the doctor about your friend here as well as make arrangements for the two of you to get home safely, seeing as how we can't get a hold of Mr. Stark's parents."

Tony had drifted off into a state of unconsciousness during their argument, leaving the two hotheaded blondes to dispute amongst themselves. Watching his mother jot down Tony's vitals from the machines monitor's display, he couldn't help but notice that the teen's blood-pressure was elevated. He'd remembered reading something somewhere that overweight people often had a lot of health problems that could be directly correlated with their weight issues and high blood-pressure was one of those issues. While Steve couldn't gloat and say that his vitals were perfect, he knew his health issues weren't caused by the extra fat in his body.

A few hours later, Steve found himself in the front seat of his truck with Tony in the passenger's seat looking very out of it. The ER staff couldn't get in touch with Tony's parents, forcing them to leave multiple messages that they would be releasing Tony into the care of a school friend who would be taking him home for some much needed rest. There was no bleed, thank goodness for that, but the doctor did say Tony had a concussive syndrome and left him with strict orders to be on brain rest for the next several days. "It's just up here on the left."

"I'm sorry your parents never called to check on you." Steve wasn't sure what was spewing from his mouth anymore. About a few hours ago he gave up censoring the garbage that spewed forth. "My mom said you're more than welcome to stay at our house until we can reach your parents. You really shouldn't be alone right now Tony."

"I'll be fine; I have Jarvis to look after me at home. If he thinks something's wrong, he can call 9-1-1 for me and have me shipped back to the ER in a matter of moments." Tony had his head rested against the cool frame of Steve's truck. His back slightly turned, so Steve couldn't tell if the younger was joking or not.

"Is Jarvis your family butler or something?" Steve wondered why some laundry detergent smelling old man couldn't be bothered from his management tasks to pick up Tony from the ER.

Tony laughed hollowly. "Nah, he's an AI system I created." Pulling his phone from his pocket, Tony handed it to Steve once they pulled into the driveway. "Just tell him to open the gate and let us in."

Handling the nifty device with extra care, as Steve was positive something that looked this high tech wasn't immediately available to the media the blonde looked at the phone as if it would bite him if he said a word. "I don't understand, Tony."

Snatching back his tech, Tony spoke to it as he started to slip the device back into his school pants pocket. "Jarvis, open the gates for us."

Suddenly, the security gates started to part allowing Steve's truck to pass through and make the short drive up the driveway towards the main garage that was connected to the large Stark home. "Your house is huge."

Tony just shrugged. "I'm just used to it I guess. Thanks for the ride, Steve, if you want to follow me inside I can compensate you for your troubles today or I could just mail it to you. You decide as my bed is calling my name." Pushing the truck door open, Steve quickly hopped out and made his way over to the passenger's side to catch an unstable Tony as he fell from the truck cabin.

Shaking his head at Tony's abrasive actions, he helped the teen make his way into the house and towards a bedroom at the top of the stairs and to the right that Steve could only hope was Tony's. The whole way the dark haired boy gripped loudly that he could do it on his own, and that he didn't need a wimp like Steve assisting him but the blonde knew better; they needed each other to survive their messed up likes in high school. Whether Steve wanted to admit it or not, he couldn't deny the growing soft spot for the arrogant nerd that was now lying peacefully on his bed, snuggled in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt under the blankets. He debated with himself for a long moment whether or not to leave or stay, but after running the scolding his momma would give him over in his head he made himself comfortable on the floor with a few additional blankets and a pillow before allowing sleep to overcome his tired body. They could sort everything else out in the morning.

xXxXx

A/N: So, this idea has been rattling around inside my head for a while and I've finally gotten around to jotting it down on paper and creating a chapter about of it all. Let me know what you guys think, I love reading everyone's reviews.