oneshots • sidemen

|| 09 || minishaw • dangerous love; pt.1

|| ship; minishaw

|| warnings; mild violence

|| words; 1.3k

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This boy had been sentenced to die.

Simon knew it wasn't going to be a pretty fight. He knew this boy he had been sent to kill was as skilled with a sword as he was.

But that didn't change the fact that he needed to die. To pay for what he'd done.

This boy had stolen, a considerable amount from The Sidemen. And they were not people to be messed with. So of course, they sent their most noteworthy assassin after him. Simon. Probably one of the most skilled and infamous assassins in all of Europe. He always met his mark.

Always.

And this boy was going to be no different.

So here Simon was, waiting in the cold, damp back alley, and waiting for his target. A short, dirty blonde man, in his twenties. That's the only description he'd been given. He'd been told that he'd know the boy when he sees him.

His hand runs impatiently over the hilt of his katana. He's been waiting here for nearly half an hour, and his muscles are starting to sieze up from the cold. But he pushes it aside. He's waited for marks in much worse conditions that this. And for much longer.

He recalls the time, when he'd been sent to kill a man in Northern Germany, in the middle of winter. A horrible experience really, probably his worst so far. Almost as soon as he'd got there, all of his money had been stolen. It took him a few days to track down the thief, and kill him, but by that point the money had all been spent. Meaning he had to sleep in doorways every night, out in the biting cold, snow and rain, eating whatever scraps he could find or steal. 

On top of that, it had taken him nearly two weeks to find his mark, and a further two to finally get the chance to kill him. And then he'd had to call someone to come and get him, since he still didn't have any money.

How nice it had been to get back home, and get paid after the ordeal.

Yeah. This job he's got now is going to be nothing at all. A walk in the park compared to that. He shifts a little in his spot, sets his resolve again.

And then sees his target.

Like JJ had said. Smallish, dirty blonde hair. Young. He too carries a katana, carelessly, like it's nothing more than a toy, piercing blue eyes searching for the man who's hunting him.

Simon steps from the shadows, keeping his hand on the hilt of his blade.

"So you're Minter then?" The other boy calls to him. Simon steps towards him.

"My name is unimportant. Because to you, I'm just the man who's going to end your life," he growls. The younger boy grins back, in a cocky way.

"Well, I'm Harry. And you're about to meet your match," he says. No malice to his tone, just pure confidence. Then draws his blade, pointing it directly at Simon's heart.

Simon can't help but feel a little uneasy. He knew this boy - Harry - was supposed to be skilled. But the way he holds his katana, it's second nature. As if he's been doing it since he was a child. He most likely has. Simon knows this isn't going to be an easy fight. And perhaps, it might even be his first, and final loss.

He draws his own katana, trying to mirror the younger's confidence straight back at him. Holds his blade so the tips are nearly touching each other. Both waiting, to see who will make the first move.

It's Harry who does, an elegant swish that Simon only just manages to block. Would've cut him in half if he didn't. Harry's quick to strike again, aiming this time for Simon's legs. He manages to dodge, but is definitely worried now. Knows that if he doesn't start attacking back, he's done for.

Makes a lunge forwards, which is easily parried. And when he looks up, sees a wide grin on the younger's face.

"You're quick," Harry comments, his eyes gleaming in an excited way. "But are you quick enough?"

It's then that the fight picks up. Elegant lunges, swipes and parries being used, blades dancing together as if this was normal. Simon hasn't met anyone near his level of skill before, so this is almost fun for him. To finally have a proper opponent.

Harry's technique is flawless, he notices. He knows exactly when and how to make attacks, and when to fall back a little to defend. Knows when to throw a particularly ferocious swipe, and catch Simon off guard. Every strike he makes would have been exactly on target, if Simon wasn't so quick to parry. Precise, he's got it down to an art. Simon can appreciate that at least.

His form isn't bad either. Footwork neat and tidy. Arms aren't flailing wildly like some beginners Simon has faced, kept in a tame manner, close into him at all times. Keeps his balance perfectly. He's lithe, and nimble, so that certainly helps.

And even though he's considerably shorter than Simon, that doesn't hinder him. In fact he works it in his favour, managing to duck under some swipes that are aimed slightly too high.

His eyes gleam wildly, never leaving Simon's. Like he's getting a kick out of this. Grinning like a complete maniac. And for whatever sick, twisted reason, Simon thinks it's hot as fuck.

Harry does have a strange beauty about him. His body is quite feminine, but in a way that's attractive. Simon can tell that he's strong, from seeing the muscles in his forearms flex as he wields his katana. A heavy weapon, that's held as if it's made of plastic. There's a fire in his eyes, that sparks something in Simon, that he hasn't felt for years.

He hasn't been able to love since he started this life. There's been no chance to. He couldn't risk putting himself, or his partner in danger. But when he looks at Harry, and sees nothing but strength, he knows this boy could handle loving someone like him. Someone dangerous.

Knows that this boy would probably enjoy it too.

Their blades clash again, meeting between them. They're infinitely closer now, the tips of their katanas facing upwards as they try to hold each other back. Simon's close enough now to see that there are little green flecks in Harry's eyes, their faces inches away.

But suddenly, Harry stops fighting, and takes a step back. Lets his weapon drop to the ground with a clatter, and holds his arms out to the side.

"I yield," he says with a grin. "You fought well. Now let's get this over with." He closes his eyes, surrendering himself completely, but the smile never leaves his lips.

Simon can't kill him now.

He sheathes his katana, and rests his hands on his hips. But then quickly reaches over to pick Harry's off the ground. No matter how pretty he is, Simon shouldn't trust him like that. It's not smart.

"You live another day, boy," Simon says, and then gets a better idea. "But on one condition."

Harry's eyes open again, and he quirks a brow. "What?"

"You come with me, and work for the Sidemen."

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a.n: oooooooo cliffhanger (sort of, but not really)

yeah, i don't usually like minishaw (that's putting it mildly), but i know it's popular, and it works well with this idea. so i decided, why the hell not

lowkey was inspired by 'kubo and the two strings', don't ask why cus i have no clue. but i fucking love that film. if you haven't seen it, deffo get on that. it's amazing

this is probably going to be between four and five chapters, so if you don't like minishaw, i can only apologise

~ Oscar