Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9321332.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, F/M
  Fandom:
      Bully_(Video_Games)
  Relationship:
      Jimmy_Hopkins/Zoe_Taylor, Peter_"Petey"_Kowalski/Gary_Smith
  Character:
      Gary_Smith, Jimmy_Hopkins, Zoe_Taylor, Jane_(Steven_Universe), Peter
      "Petey"_Kowalski, Hal_Esposito, Dorsey_(Bully)_(the_guy_who_works_at_the
      carnival)
  Additional Tags:
      POV_First_Person, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Alternate
      Universe_-_Post-Time_Loop, Masturbation, Sexual_Experimentation, In_that
      Gary_has_literally_never_done_any_of_this, Time_Loop, Gary_is_in_a_glass
      case_of_emotions, Other_Additional_Tags_to_Be_Added, Implied/Referenced
      Child_Abuse, Zoe_is_articulate_as_fuck, Condoms, Public_Display_of
      Affection, First_Kiss, Semi-Public_Sex, Hand_Jobs, Alternate_Universe,
      Age_Difference, Break_Up, Gary_continues_to_be_in_a_glass_case_of
      emotions
  Series:
      Part 2 of 'Pete_gets_trapped'_timeline
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-14 Updated: 2018-01-12 Chapters: 5/9 Words: 21047
****** Well Okay Then ******
by Kimnd
Summary
     Pete's just happy to finally be back in the regular time stream
     again--hanging out with friends (that he now has), eating junk food,
     playing video games, going to the beach; you know, normal teenage
     stuff.
     Gary, on the other hand, is not so inclined to peaceful social
     interaction.
     (There was a technical glitch with the first version of this, so I'm
     posting it again to see if this works better)
     The ending of this story has not actually been figured out in its
     entirety, so do not count on consistent updates.
Notes
     If you haven't read Groundhog Pete this will probably be rather
     confusing.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
I didn’t really notice anything until summer. Petey had been excited about
everything summer, since it’d been fifteen years since his last one; he would
show up to everything in a polo shirt and shorts, rarely wearing anything other
than sandals. It was a particularly hot day, and Jimmy, Pete, Jimmy’s new punk
ladyfriend and I were all loitering around in some place in New Coventry that
Jimmy inexplicably owned the key to. Suddenly, Petey piped up and suggested we
go to the beach for the first time. The other two shrugged in lukewarm
acceptance, but I pointed out, in my tactful way, that he was going to make
everybody on the beach run screaming from the vicinity with that outfit. He
just laughed. “Pft, yeah! They’ll never return to mortal Femme Boys again.” And
so we’d all found ourselves at the beach. I hadn’t brought a swimming costume;
it always seemed like a pointlessly dangerous activity to me. Why do something
that puts your life in so much danger? Of course, Petey and Jimmy had taken to
the water as soon as we’d gotten there. Zoe wanted to sit on the beach, which
sounded about as much fun to me as having sand get in my clothes, i.e. not fun,
so I sat on the pier, picking a spot near where the two took turns flinging
themselves into the water. At first I read, but eventually I stopped trying to
parse Slaughterhouse-Five and watched the two of them.
Jimmy was clearly playing for the audience (it’s not like we were the only
teenagers who’d decided to take a dip), trying to make the showiest splashes or
the flashiest mid-air maneuvers. I rolled my eyes; typical moron. Petey, at
first glance, seemed like he was doing the same thing—trying to rack up the
complexity of his diving over time. But as I studied him, his expression was
very different than that of our friend’s. Rather than checking to see who was
watching, Pete was just enjoying what he was doing for its own sake. He didn’t
care if anybody else was watching. In fact, it felt a little… odd, focusing on
him when he so clearly didn’t know I was looking. As if I was viewing something
private.
After the hundred-millionth time, Petey hauled himself back up onto the pier
and made his way over to me, collapsing next to me on the bench as he breathed
heavily. “Phew! Man that’s… pretty exhausting… haaa…” But he was grinning even
as he closed his eyes and leaned back, resting his weight on his hands as he
panted. For some reason, my eyes were drawn to the rise and fall of his
chest—how his muscles moved, changing the way the sunlight lit up the water
still beaded on his skin. His nipples were erect, too. I frowned; why was I
noticing this? He shifted suddenly, turning so his back was to me and his legs
were stretched out on the bench. “Hey,” his head turned toward me as I quickly
snapped my gaze to his face “do you mind if I lie down?” His face was a little
flushed from all the exercise. I shrugged, leaning back on my hands myself as I
looked out and watched what looked like the entire population of the town as
they tried to drown themselves. There was a pause before he laughed a little
awkwardly. “…I think that means no?” He then put his hands behind his head,
lying down with an air of supreme relaxation. I flicked my gaze back to his
chest. It was weirdly mesmerizing, watching him breathe. Eventually my eyes
were drawn to a bead of water as it rolled down his side, rolling over his
ribs… I swallowed thickly before nearly jumping out of my skin when he spoke
again, this time saying “You’re being pretty quiet.” If he looked at me when he
said that I didn’t know, because I had started staring intently at… something.
But it wasn’t Petey’s fucking bone structure, whatever it was.
I shrugged before adding “Maybe I don’t have anything to say.” True enough, I
suppose.
Petey snickered, and my eyes were drawn back to his expression. He was smiling,
but his eyes were closed. “Yeah right, you always have something to say!” I
snorted; how very true in his case. It was rather… odd, how well Femme Boy knew
me. He acted like he’d known me for years, rather than months. Which he had, I
suppose; time loops and all. But it made me feel like I didn’t even know him by
comparison. I’d considered him a friend even before the start of the school
year, but I hadn’t seen him in years.
“Only because there’s nobody else worth talking to, Petey.” I resumed examining
his body, sweeping my gaze to follow the small line of hair that started at his
belly-button before dipping into his trunks. I could hardly tear my eyes away.
What the hell was I doing? To my horror, his eyes opened. I snapped my gaze to
his face again—maybe he wouldn’t notice anything?
He frowned at me, saying “What do you mean, there’s nobody else worth talking
to?”
I rolled my eyes at that; really, wasn’t it obvious? “It means exactly what it
means, Petey—you and Jimmy are pretty much the only people I can stand to be
around.” I snorted before adding “And in Jimmy’s case, that’s mostly because he
makes for a handy GPS.” I smirked to myself, remembering how I’d completely
underestimated the moron’s usefulness back at the beginning of the year. Sure,
he isn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, but he’s freakishly good at navigation
and his skill in Chemistry isn’t half bad—plus, his ability to punch things had
not been oversold.
To my surprise, Petey got up and looked me full in the face. “Do you really not
like anybody else, Gary?” Sheesh, was it really so surprising?
Laughing, I replied “Come on, Femme Boy—you’re the one who’s put up with us for
a freaking decade. If anything, the conclusion to draw here is that you like us
an unhealthy amount!”
He smiled a little sadly, shrugging as he laid back down. “Maybe you’re right
about that.” I frowned. He wasn’t supposed to agree with me so readily like
that. Angry yelling as the Preps and Greasers got into a massive splash-fight
could be heard in the background as he resumed relaxing.
Studying his torso again, I found it mostly dry—the day was quite hot. But for
some reason, I wanted to see the sunlight glinting off his wet skin again. My
eyes landed on a birthmark a little to the right of his belly button; what
would that brown patch of skin taste like? I blinked rapidly as that question
entered my head. What the fuck? Did… was I seriously lusting after Peter
fucking Kowalski just now? I dismissed that thought; of course not. No fucking
way. Considering what I’d said earlier I asked “Hey Petey, why did you put up
with us for so long?” He popped his eyes open at that before closing them and
letting out a deep sigh. I smirked, turning so I was straddling the bench and
leaning over him with my hands supporting my head with my elbows. “Oooh, sounds
like a story to me!” I couldn’t see his expression terribly well from this
angle since it seemed upside down, but oh well.
He sighed, averting his gaze. “Really, Gary… the story isn’t as interesting as
you’re probably hoping.” I frowned. Why did he always insist on thinking of
himself as boring? He was probably the most interesting individual on the
planet, with the time travel!
I groaned, rolling my eyes as I said “That’s Femme Boy speak for” here I
adopted a high-pitched mock-girly voice “‘Oh, I don’t wanna talk about it
because I’m too busy knitting and having my period, waaa!’” Smirking, I let my
head droop enough so that my eyes were positioned right over his. My smirk
faltered when I noticed that his irises had little flecks of gold in them.
Petey closed his eyes and sighed, before opening them again and fixing his gaze
on me. Inexplicably, I flashed on a song from a movie my nanny used to make me
watch with her on Valentine’s Day: I swear that I can see forever in your eyes,
paaaaaradiiiise… “Honestly, Gary, I didn’t have much of a choice.” He shrugged
as I tried to stop that stupid fucking song from sounding in my head Almost
paradise! We’re knockin’ on heaven’s door!… Petey continued talking and resumed
eye-contact, blissfully unaware of my thoughts. “You and Jimmy were the only
people willing to be friends with me throughout the year.”
I gave a ‘fair enough’ shrug as I leaned back and turned away from him. The
song died down after that; thank God. Eventually, it became clear that Jimmy
had vanished into thin air, and by ‘thin air’ I mean of course that he went off
to that lighthouse to have sex with his girlfriend. Being the gentleman that I
am I kindly offered to protect Petey from any rapists who mistook him for a
girl on his way home, which made him roll his eyes and laugh. He had his towel
and shirt flung casually over his shoulder, and he waved to me cheerfully
before shutting the door as he entered his house. Right after he closed it I
lifted my hand automatically before lowering it and turning to go back to my
house without waving at all.
                                      ~~~
Later that night, the usual insomnia was due to an unusual source—thoughts of
Femme Boy were keeping me up. Moreover, it was thoughts of him on the bench
next to me that occupied my mind while I traced whirls in the wood above my
head with my eyes for the umpteenth time: the image of his body splayed out,
eyes closed, just begging people to rake their gaze over him. …What would it
have felt like if I’d touched him? I slipped my hand into my undershirt,
trailing my fingers down my own side—well, I doubted I would’ve felt so many
bones; Petey wasn’t nearly as skinny as I was. But I closed my eyes and ran my
hands over my chest, shivering. What would he feel like? Warm… and softer,
probably. As I felt my nipples and ribs, I became aware of a needed to pee; but
I knew what needing to go to the bathroom felt like, and it certainly didn’t
involve the vague stiffening of a penis. I frowned; what the hell? Sitting up
and throwing off the covers, I just stared at my sleight erection. Was this
seriously happening? Thinking about touching Femme Boy of all people was giving
me a hard-on?
…Or him touching me. I licked my lips as I thought about what would’ve happened
if he’d been the one leaning over me today; if he’d brushed his fingers over my
chest. Lying down, I closed my eyes and imagined that it was Petey’s hands
running over me as I did so to myself—he’d probably have that expression he
wears when he sketches, with this deep concentration as he studied my body. My
breathing had sped up by now; maybe eventually his eyes would be drawn to the
tenting in my boxers, and he’d bite his lip a little before looking up at me
questioningly. ‘Do… do you mind?’ I shook my head vigorously; I did not mind.
He smiled shyly before adjusting his position so he was closer to me.
I ran a hand over my boxers and nearly moaned—I had hardly ever touched myself
like this before, and it had never felt like that. I kept my eyes locked on a
spot on the ceiling as I imagined that the hands running over my clothed member
were Petey’s rather than my own. Licking my lips, I pretended he tugged the
band of my boxers down. I let out a sharp exhale when I was exposed to the cool
air—who knew that made such a difference? He would probably look up with that
‘worried Femme Boy’ look he gets, where his eyebrows are all furrowed. I
whispered “It’s fine, I’m fine.” That smoothed his expression and he smiled at
me. He nodded before looking back down at my cock.
Here I hit a mental brick wall. Had Petey even had gay sex before? I made fun
of him for that kind of thing of course, but… had he? I stared at the ceiling,
feeling my heartbeat pound in my ears as I breathed heavily; fifteen years was
a long time—it was possible that he’d had sex with guys before, but the
experience I knew he had certainly wasn’t with another guy. He’d only mentioned
in passing that he’d made out with Lola before, but had refused to go into more
detail on the matter; something about ‘respecting her privacy’ or some such. A
voice in the back of my head whispered that that probably meant he’d fucked
her, and that was just a gross image. Ugh.
I felt blood draining away from my crotch, and I frowned; crap, I hadn’t meant
for that to happen. Well… I didn’t know if he’d ever touched somebody else’s
penis before, but I had little doubt that he’d masturbated. I propped myself
back up and re-arranged the pillows so that I was able to lean against them.
Thank God it was summer break; I’d never be able to do this if he was in the
room. As I settled in, I pictured him kneeling on the bed in front of me; no
shirt, just boxers—he averted his gaze from mine as he settled in. ‘I’m just…
not really used to doing this in front of somebody…’
I smiled, slipping into ‘reassurance’ mode automatically. “It’s okay, Petey;
it’s hardly different from doing it on your own, right?” He looked back up at
me, smiling shyly.
‘I guess. But… it’s… kind of exciting, too.’ He licked his lips, and looked
down at his boxers; they were starting to sport a noticeable bulge. Heat had
rushed back to my own crotch by this point.
I ran my hand roughly over myself while I pictured Petey slipping his own hand
into his boxers. “Y-yeah?” I whispered hoarsely. He nodded, getting up onto his
knees and moving closer. Swallowing, I added “You like showing off for me,
Femme Boy?”
He nodded again, but this time his smile was sultry and he whispered ‘Do you
like watching?’ as he pumped himself with one hand and slowly pulled his boxers
off with the other. In response I sped up my own stroking, but hissed when it
was suddenly too hot.
“Fuck, ow!” I yanked my hand back, looking at my dick, frowning. Christ, that’d
felt like getting an Indian burn! Hm… I needed there to be less friction. After
thinking for a while about what I had on-hand, I started kneading the bottom of
my mouth with my tongue, trying to produce more saliva. Eventually, I was able
to spit some into my hand, rubbing it in. I grimaced—bleh, this was disgusting.
But when I began stroking myself again I couldn’t give less of a shit how gross
it was; it felt fucking awesome. I let out some breathy exhales as I got back
into the rhythm, trying to remember where in my fantasy I’d left off.
Petey was leaning back now, his boxers pushed down so he was totally exposed. I
imagined his gaze was locked onto me as he said lowly ‘So what do you want to
do?’ I frowned—I actually had no idea what to do; I’d tried masturbation
before, but it hadn’t really appealed. Sex didn’t generally enter my thought
process unless it was for a practical reason, like to make fun of Petey, or to
manipulate somebody into doing something.
I screwed my eyes shut, trying to think of what it was people did when they
jacked off. Eventually, I whispered into the dark “Can… can you show me how to
do this?”
I’d stopped trying to picture the sights, instead just imagining how his voice
sounded like it was smiling when he replied. ‘Of course I can, Gary.’ He was
probably the only person I knew that wouldn’t have laughed if I’d asked them to
teach me how to masturbate. Not that I ever would, obviously, but that fact was
enough to let me imagine it. Taking my own hands away, I paused before
imagining that he was saying ‘Well, you’ve already got the lubricant down…’ I
wrapped my hand lightly around my shaft, pretending it was Petey’s—the rush of
blood made it twitch suddenly, and I flinched back. ‘Yeah, that can happen.
Now, you don’t wanna go too fast; you need to build up to it.’ The hand began
moving slowly up and down, and it was kind of unsatisfying. But I wasn’t sure
if I should tell him to change his grip… ‘Come on Gary, you gotta tell me what
you like! I can’t read your mind.’
Well that solved that problem. “Grip me harder. Um, please?” Wow this was
awkward. But after that the grip on me tightened.
‘Is that good?’ I nodded. Oh, yeah; the tighter grip started at the base, and
the increased pressure felt so good. Then the hand moved up along the shaft,
gently massaging me.
I rolled my head back, muttering “Ooohh…” The grip would taper off as it got
higher, and it felt like I was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste—like
all that stuff inside me was being coaxed out. And after the hand reached the
end, it moved back down; “Aaaaaaaa” Shifting my hips in the direction of the
grip let me increase the pressure and damn, there was a flood of saliva at the
feeling. I was about to swallow before I stopped myself; licking my lips, I
considered the stream of sensations from my crotch. More certainly wouldn’t be
a bad thing. I muttered “Hey, I’ve got… uh, more spit…”
‘Oh, good; here.’ A hand put itself near my mouth, and I began licking it.
‘Mmm… yeah…’ I slowed down, making each lathering pass of my tongue as
deliberate as I could make it. The hand was trembling now. ‘Oh man, Gary that
feels so good…’ Christ, Petey saying my name; that was hot. Resisting the
temptation to open my eyes, I slathered my tongue along the edge of the palm.
What the fuck was I even doing? It’s not like I cared anyway; my mouth was
practically dripping by now. Soon, though, I ran out of things to do—the hand
had been fully coated, anyway. Reluctantly, it pulled away. ‘Later—you wanted
to know how to jerk yourself, right?’ The illusion broke a little when I
realized that I already had a hand pumping, and I wasn’t sure what else to
try—would my other hand even fit? ‘It’s alright, Gary; just relax.’ But I
couldn’t, there were too many variables!
I shook my head as I hissed “It’s too much…” And the hand retreated
immediately. There, now at least I could consider other options. I breathed
deep as I let the lingering heat of the friction from moments ago mix
gloriously with the chill provided by the cool air and saliva. Licking my lips,
I thought; what other vocabulary about masturbation had I even heard?
‘I can try messing with the tip, how about that?’ Right, the tip. I could feel
that part of my anatomy throb in time with my heart as I nodded my approval.
The hand returned, this time circling a thumb over the hole in the top.
The result was instantaneous. “uhhhhmmmm Peteyes” the other hand began pumping
but I barely noticed with the spike of pleasure from the rubbing against the
head. “…Yesss Petey yes more Pete fasterpleaseaaaaaahh!…” The hand moved faster
and faster, and soon the world had shrunk to the blazing heat and the waves of
pleasure that kept crashing over me; each one made me feel as if I was
drowning. I started panting and letting out words in a desperate stream even
though my vocabulary had suddenly shrunk to harder and yes and Pete. The sheer
number of sensations made me curl up on myself, and I could vaguely feel my
legs shaking as it just kept getting more and more intense; soon reality fell
away utterly—all I needed was for his hand to keep moving. I moaned shamelessly
for him; I groaned his name; I begged him not to stop to never stop. At some
point I started shifting my hips so that there was even more pressure and I had
never felt such a wave of pure bliss in my fucking life as I rolled my eyes
into the back of my head and pressed my head back into the pillows as I groaned
unintelligibly and for an instant it was like my being expanded and I felt
everything before I snapped abruptly back, panting and trembling as the
aftershocks tore through—
A loud BANGBANGBANG on my bedroom door made me snap my eyes open and freeze.
“WHAT is that fucking racket!?” Shit, my dad; I scrambled to grab the covers
that had long since been discarded, throwing the blankets over my head in the
irrational and hopeless attempt to avoid his anger. After a few moments of
tense silence he said “Come on now, what’s the rule?”
“…Be seen, not heard.” It was a little muffled by the covers, but I cursed
myself for the automatic response.
“Good. See, son? You can manage to remember things when you want to.” I
tightened my grip on the blanket, reminding myself that the last time I had
used the anniversary as a taunt I had had to wear long-sleeve shirts for a
week. I hated the icy fear that was filling my gut; it was stupid, it was not
like I had ever been told not to do this. “Go to sleep, and I don't want to
hear another sound out of you all night. Is that clear?” I was unable to stop
myself from nodding. There was obviously no way he could have sensed my
response, but he said “Exactly. Some of us are trying to sleep.” The sound of
footsteps retreating down the hallway soon reached my ears.
A few seconds later, I could hear the distant sound of a door being opened and
shut. I waited for a few more tense moments before crawling out from my
makeshift blanket fort. My head hit the pillow a few moments later; there was
nothing better to do, after all. So I ended up right back at the
beginning—staring at my ceiling, mind restless. The only difference was that
now, that ‘sex smell’ I had heard about permeated the space. I draped an arm
across my eyes and grimaced; Goddamnit… tomorrow, I would have to see Petey and
act like nothing had changed. I turned over, curling into myself. I could worry
about that later—in the meantime I let the self-disgust crash over me as I
finally drifted off to sleep.
Chapter End Notes
     So! Constructive criticism? Puns I missed? Death threats? Leave 'em
     below!
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     Thanks for the person who left Kudos and the other who commented.
     Guess I should keep updating, then?
See the end of the chapter for more notes
It took me a scary long time to figure out what was different with Scarface.
Eventually I was a week in, and I realized I needed outside help; so I brought
it up with Zoe one day post-fucking. I grinned and wiped my hand off on the
sheets; damn, she’d been wet that time! “So, pretty good?”
She let out a satisfied sigh before shrugging and putting her arms behind her
head. “Eh, not bad.” I snorted, lying across her chest.
“‘Not bad’ my ass, you loved that!” I mean, Zoe’s pretty quiet but she’d
clearly been into it.
She grinned, and said in a grossly-sweet tone “Not as much as I love you.” That
made us laugh; she’d said it so corny!
But that reminded me; right, the thing with Gary. “Hey, by the way, I think I
need a second opinion on somethin’. Wanna weigh in?” Normally I don’t say that
kind of thing around a girl—they can be real touchy about it—but that's why I
like Zoe so much. She’s one of my best friends, not just some hot chick.
Though, as I played with one of her boobs, it was totally not a downside. She
rubbed my hair absently as she asked “Yeah? What about?”
Hm. How to put what I'd been noticing… “You seen anything, I dunno, off about
Gary lately?” She raised an eyebrow at that. I shrugged, adding “Yeah I know
you’re not exactly friends with the guy, but I kinda wanted a second pair of
eyes to see if I was bullshitting myself or not.”
She shrugged, giving a fair enough kinda look. While she thought, I took the
time to really admire her boobs. They're not massive or anything, but I made
sure to confirm that, yeah, still squishy. I smiled to myself; awesome. “Hm.
Now that you mention it, he’s been a little more…” she snapped her finger like
she was thinkin’. “Shit, what's the word? Adjacent? Abusive?”
She looked down at me with an eyebrow cocked and I shrugged. “Hey, don't look
at me, I'm still stuck at English 3 even with Pete tutoring me.” She laughed,
then started mock-noogying me.
“Aw, who’s my special little idiot?” I pushed her arm away, laughing, too.
“Hey, at least I can cook worth a damn. Unlike anybody else around here.” She
snorted, rolling her eyes. The annoyance was pretty fair—I like bragging about
that. But I hadn't even realized I was good at it until Pete got me that
cookbook that had fuckin’ pictures instead of just words. Made me wanna know
why all the other cookbooks Mom ever bought in a sudden fit of stupid where she
wanted to look like a good wife or some shit didn't just show you what a
tablespoon of cayenne pepper looked like. Speaking of which… I lifted my head
off her belly. “Hey, you hungry?” I rolled out of bed (er… mattress) and made
my way over to the bar of the beach house… thing. Whatever this place is.
“Nah, I’m good.” She sat up suddenly, clapping and pointing. “Abrasive!” She
fist-pumped and added “Thank God; that was gonna bother me all day if I didn't
remember it.”
I frowned as I rummaged around for the tortilla chips I’d stashed under the
bar. “The hell does ‘abrasive’ mean?”
She started kinda shouting so I could hear. “Ya know, it's… like, you know how
when ya brace something against something else it's like you're supporting it?”
Finally finding what I was looking for, I popped back up from behind the bar,
nodding as I vaulted over the counter. “Well, abrasive is like when you have a
thing that can wear something down. Like… corrosive.”
I nodded as I sat back down, munching on a chip. “…so Gary’s being… like, an
acid?” I frowned; that didn't make much sense to me—maybe I was noticing shit
that wasn't there?
Zoe looked uncertain about that, though, so maybe I was just crazy. “Kinda?
Haha, way to add the ‘-id’ to the end of that.” She started grinning cheekily
at that, and I had to stop and think for a sec before I got it.
“Hahaha! Yeah, he’ll probably start burning a hole through something soon!” We
both spent a few minutes giggling about that. Finally, I said “So you think
Gary’s been more douchey than usual too?”
She grabbed a chip herself and nodded. “Yeah, I mean he fuckin’ went off on
Pete yesterday just for tapping his shoulder. Dude needed to take, like, five
chill pills.”
I nodded, crunching on a chip myself. “Yeah, but don't tell him that. Meds are
kinda a sensitive spot for ‘im.” She nodded, just confirming I know that but
thanks for reminding me. “…so why do you think he’s been acting so weird?”
She frowned thoughtfully. “Well it's probably got something to do with ‘Femme-
boy’.” She put Gary’s pet name for Pete in air quotes.
I shrugged as I munched on a handful of chips. “Yeah, he’s clearly boning for
Pete pretty hard. But why would he suddenly start being more dicky than usual?”
Zoe leaned back, supporting her weight on her hands as she drummed her fingers
and thought. I started staring at the floor, thinking, too. Was he mad at Pete
for something? If he was he hadn't said what it was. After a while, Zoe said
uncertainly “Maybe… he's got some kinda shitty situation at home?”
I tilted my head at that. He had mentioned that his parents were one of his
‘problems’. “I can see that, but I don't really know how we’d know for sure.”
Gary never talks about his past. Ever.
She reached out for a chip. “Maybe the heat’s getting to him or something. He
is a pale motherfucker.” I scrunched my face up in doubt. Like yeah, that
seemed like it could maybe be a thing, but…
I sighed, leaning back and looking up at the ceiling. “I dunno, man, I just
feel like it's a bigger deal than that or something, ya know?” I thought back
to all the times he’d been more ‘abrasive’ than usual this week; snapping at
Pete for laughing too loud, storming off when Pete called it to a vote and we
all wanted to go to the beach, knocking Pete’s ice-cream to the ground outta
fuckin’ nowhere then suddenly apologizing for it… my eyes widened; “Hey, do ya
think maybe he, like, didn't know he wanted to fuck Pete?” I shifted my head
back down, and my train of thought got kinda de-railed when I saw Zoe licking
salt off her fingers.
She smirked, sucking her middle finger in and clearly swirling her tongue
around it. I licked my lips, recalling that same tongue working its magic a
couple hours ago. She pulled her hand away pretty quickly, though. “Come on,
how could he not know?”
I blinked. What? “Uh, who?” She shook her head and laughed, and I flipped her
the bird even as I was probably blushing like a fucking virgin.
She rolled her eyes. “You know, has a big ol’ scar over his eye, can’t go more
than two seconds without interrupting somebody…” Even so, when she was done she
winked—a silent ‘don’t worry, there’s always more where that came from.’
I shivered before shaking my head a little. “Right, um, Gary…” I frowned,
considering what she’d said. “Well, he doesn't seem like he's all that into
sex… Hell, I've only ever seen him flirt with Pete.”
She snapped a finger and pointed at that. “But that's the thing, if he’s
flirting with Pete he's gotta know what he’s doing, right?” She shrugged,
adding “I mean, do you ever not know when you're flirting?”
I scratched the back of my head and crossed my legs. “Well no, but I actually,
you know, have had sex. I don't even know if Gary’s even” here I put in some
air quotes of my own “‘like-like’d somebody before, ya know?”
She frowned, giving it a little more serious consideration. “…but it's so
obvious!” Even so, she held her chin thoughtfully. “It would explain things,
though. It started right after the first day we went to the beach, right?” I
nodded.
“Yeah, and Gary was clearly checking him out.” We’d high-tailed it outta there.
Figured they could use the privacy.
She nodded again, slowly lowering her hand. For a couple seconds the sound of
the waves and seagulls were the only sounds. “…Shit, you might be right!” We
both looked at each other.
“…and he calls me a moron, sheesh!” I shook my head. Fucking hypocrite.
She snickered, but added “Hey, to be fair we should probably double-check. Be
on the safe side and all.”
I nodded in agreement, getting to my feet as I went over to grab some clothes
and actually get ready for the day. “Fair ‘nuff. I can try and catch him alone
in the bathroom or something, try and get him to spill his guts.” I frowned as
I pulled out a pair of tan shorts. Shit, tact isn't really my thing. Just gonna
have to hope Gary didn’t get too squirrelly, I guess.
Zoe snorted when I tossed her a shirt and some pants. “Riiight, good luck with
that. Jimmy Hopkins; master tactician.” When I stuck my tongue out at her, she
just blew a raspberry in my direction as she pulled on the shirt I'd thrown her
way. “Wow, way to be a petulant fuckin’ child, Jimmy.” I groaned; great,
another word I'd never heard before.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Zo’. She flipped me the bird when her head
popped through the shirt. I sighed as I pulled my pants on; I was just hoping
Pete wouldn't catch on for some time yet.
                                      ~~~
Something’s up with Gary. Which, yeah, goes without saying, but whatever this
is, it’s clearly more drastic than usual. I sighed as I shut the front door to
my house, foregoing the usual bike to just walk over to the movie theater. It’s
like back during the first loop, only this time it’s weirder.
Stuffing my hands in my pockets as I walked, the incident from the other day
stood out most in my mind; I’d just been eating some ice cream and Gary’d
randomly knocked it out of my hand. And not on accident or something,
either—he’d slapped it out of my hand so fast that I had kept licking air for a
second before realizing what had happened. I hadn’t even had the chance to say
anything beyond a confused ‘uhhh’ before Gary had apologized. Well… kind of.
What he’d said was more like “Shit, sorr—” followed by a few seconds of what
appeared to be the brink of a mental breakdown. I had held my hands up, told
him it was fine, accidents happen, and luckily he had dropped the ‘I’m dead
inside’ look he got when that kind of thing happened. But it was clear to me
that hadn’t been an accident; as an isolated incident, maybe. But I know Gary
well enough to know when something’s up, and he’s been even more snappish than
usual lately. Which kind of scares me, if I’m honest. I waved to a grownup as
he passed by before dropping my polite smile, sighing to myself. The downside
to being out of the loops is that, from here on out, nothing’s certain. I know
Gary and Jimmy (and Zoe, to some extent) pretty well, but as time gets further
and further from the end of the loops, they’re all becoming different people
with different memories. I allowed myself a soft chuckle—I’m out of the loop. I
frowned; I’ve seen Gary act kind of like this plenty of times before,
especially after The Hole. By that point in the loops, he would usually be so
off his rocker he would betray Jimmy no matter how many times I explained that
Jimmy wasn’t conspiring against him. He’d say stuff like “I don’t need friends,
friends are for the weak”, “You are such a loser”, or “Hanging out with that
psycho? Psh, you really are pathetic” etc. But this behavior was different… I
couldn’t quite put my finger on how, though.
Arriving at the movie theatre, I smiled when I saw the girl working the ticket
stand. “Hi, Jane!” She looked up from furiously typing on her laptop, smiling
when she saw me.
“Hey, Pete! How’re you doing?” She looked back to her screen for a moment,
doing something while I talked.
I sighed “Okay, I guess… bit of ‘family drama’ lately.” I smiled to myself;
that more closely described the situation than anything.
The freckled girl gave me a sympathetic look. “Aw, that’s too bad. Anything you
wanna talk about?” I gave it a bit of thought.
That would be nice… this situation needed a bit of a colder eye to really
analyze, and since I was stuck in it just as much as everybody else now I
couldn’t exactly count on myself to be an impartial eye. Still, though. “Are
you sure?” I eyed the computer when it emitted an alert noise that sounded like
an alien beacon. “I know you like to keep in touch with the boyfriend…”
She blushed, but turned the computer off. “Sure, but I’ve got time for my
friends too, of course! Plus…” She leaned near the hole with metal plating over
it that seemed universal at movie theaters. I put my ear near it indulgently.
Whispering, she said “it’s Tuesday. Tuesday morning. Nobody goes to the movies
on Tuesday in the morning.” She leaned back suddenly, adopting a very friendly
smile. “Good morning, sir!” I stepped aside quickly for the man and woman who
had come up behind me—an older couple, by the looks of things. Their names
escaped me, but I knew they were the grandparents of a couple of the Preps. I
smiled politely at them as they made their way into the theatre, and they
nodded politely back. Then, stepping back in front of the booth, I gave Jane an
‘are you sure you don’t want to take that foot out of your mouth’ kind of look.
She shrugged, adding “Well, except old people. Tuesday is senior day, and you
get an early bird special if you see a movie before twelve. Soo…” She leaned
forward again, resting her head on her hands with what I thought might have
been an overly-eager face for what I had to say. “What’s the drama in the fam?”
I sighed. Where to start? “Well… I’ve got this friend?” She nodded, encouraging
me to continue. I leaned my elbows on the counter as I kept talking. “And…
they’ve been acting kind of strange, lately.” She frowned, tilting her head in
a questioning manner, so I added “See, they’re not usually a nice person; they
have a lot of mental hang-ups, so I get it when they sound judgmental or rude.”
I shrugged even as she frowned skeptically. “I don’t mind that stuff,
honestly.” And I don’t; I’ve gotten too used to Gary over the years to get hung
up over stuff like him calling me girly or making fun of my sexuality or
whatever. It was just what he does. “But lately h—they’ve been acting… more
mean than usual.” I frowned, looking at nothing in particular as I added “Well,
it’s not quite the same as how they usually act. Usually they do stuff like
make fun of me to make them feel better, you know?” Jane adopted a horrified
expression and I shook a hand in a placating manner. “It’s fine, it’s just what
they do—I’m used to it.” I continued my explanation, hoping that if I just got
to it she’d drop the pitying look. “But what they’re doing lately is different;
they get angry when somebody does anything minor, like bump into hi—them by
accident or, I dunno, eating ice cream wrong.” I stopped, letting that sink in.
Jane looked pensive for a moment before asking “How long did you say this has
been happening for?” Then she added “The extra-mean behavior, I mean.”
I thought about it for a moment. It’d started around the day we’d gone to the
beach (there wasn’t too much to do in this town, after all)—and that had been
last Thursday. “About five days, I’d say.”
She nodded. “Okay. Um…” here she scrunched her face up in thought, before
saying slowly “I think the important question here is to ask why this friend of
yours is acting like this.” She tilted her head at me, asking “Do you have any
idea why they might be doing this?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know for sure. I have some ideas? But I really don’t
want to assume; I’d rather do something that doesn’t involve me getting into
their business. They’re a pretty private person.” She nodded, like she thought
that made sense. “I mean, if I just come out and ask them directly I know they
won’t tell me—they’ll just weasel out of it with some explanation for that
particular instance and not the bigger picture, ya know?” I sighed as she
nodded again. Being friends with Gary really can be a chore sometimes. “I
guess… what really worries me is that there might be something very wrong.” I
crossed my arms on the counter and leaned closer to the glass. Jane looked so
sad for me; I really am lucky to have so many good friends. I continued quietly
“Like… suicidal thoughts, or a death in the family, or something equally
dangerous? And the fact that they’re not telling me scares me.... Like they
don’t trust me.”
The silence hung for a bit as the distant sound of seagulls and the town buoy
made themselves known. Eventually, Jane hung her head. “I’m sorry that you’re
needing to make these kinds of choices, Pete… you’re so young.” I half-smiled
at that; I wasn’t quite as young as I looked, but oh well. She lifted her head,
continuing “I’ve had similar situations with friends… where I find out after
the fact that they were hurting or in trouble but I hadn’t said anything
because they hadn’t said anything.” She closed her eyes, and I could see her
ball a fist up. I reached through the hole at the bottom of the ticket-taking
window to touch her hand as best I could; she gave me a grateful smile as I
pulled away. Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and continued “Even so,
there isn’t really anything you can do to make your friend ask you for help—all
you can really do is make sure they know you’re there for them if they need
you. One of the best things you can do is provide a sympathetic, non-judgmental
ear, you know? Not trying to advise them, just… listen to what they’re going
through. You know, if they want to talk about it.”
I nodded slowly as I considered her advice. Seemed reasonable. Still… I sighed
when I’d absorbed it all. I smiled a little sheepishly, adding “Part of me was
hoping you’d just tell me to slap them in the face and tell them to cut it
out.” We shared a laugh about that—some days it was a very thin line that kept
me from doing exactly that. When we were done, I took a breath and straightened
up. “But thanks for the advice, Jane; I really needed that.” A mini-reality
check that, like me, Gary’s human; he’s doing this weird stuff for a reason, no
matter how obtuse that reason may be, and if he didn’t want to share it that
was okay—I can still be there if he needs a friend.
Jane grinned, a wide, happy grin rather than the professional smile that she’d
given the old couple earlier. “Aw, I’m glad you feel better! So, what movie did
you want to see?”
I laughed; I’d forgotten to even pick one! “Um… I dunno, what’s good?” I hadn’t
seen any of the movies now—they were all new, which was exciting, but I’d seen
enough trailers for the Transformers movie to want to punch that Shia LaBeouf
kid in the face. That one didn’t come out until tomorrow, though. I knew
because I’d only seen the previews a half-zillion times before 300 and that
dragon one—they sure love to point out that the release date was July 4th.
‘Remember kids, if your parents don’t take you to see it they aren’t American!’
She straightened up, looking excited. “Ooh, Live Free or Die Hard is a fun
popcorn flick!” I leaned over, looking at the whiteboard that displayed the
movies playing for the day, and at what time. Bullworth is honestly pretty
lucky to have a 3-screen theatre for such a small town. “I haven’t seen
Ratatouille, but it’s a Pixar movie and it’s gotten pretty good reviews, so
that’s bound to be excellent.” She looked behind her at the list of films for
herself, thinking. “Mm… Ooh, yeah, Sicko was pretty depressing, but definitely
good to see.”
I frowned. I had no idea what that one was. “What’s that about?”
Jane gave me an even look. “Michael Moore documentary about American
healthcare.” I grimaced; that sounded interesting, of course, but… she laughed
at my expression. “Yeah, I feel you.” Then she straightened up and adopted her
‘customer service’ face, quickly adding “Good morning! How can I help you
today, sir?” I stepped to the side, looking back at whoever’d walked up.
To my surprise, it was Gary. “Oh, hey man! Geze, way to say ‘hi’!” I
snickered—typical Gary to just walk up to somebody without even greeting them.
He shrugged, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. “Aw, but I couldn’t bear to
interrupt you and your girlfriend’s talk, Femme Boy!”
I rolled my eyes; of course. Jane, however, beat me to the punch. “Um. Who’s…”
she was looking between the two of us with confusion.
I pointed at myself. “Yeah, ‘Femme Boy’ is me. Oh, right, have you two met?”
Jane shook her head, amused to see that I was excited, but I couldn’t help it.
Introducing my friends to each other feels so more natural, now that I don’t
know how the interactions play out! “Gary, this is Jane—Jane, this is Gary!
Um…” I tried to think of something they both had in common, but couldn’t think
of anything. So I resorted to plan B, saying how I’d met them. “Gary’s my
roommate at Bullworth, and Jane gives really good movie recommendations.”
Jane gave Gary a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you!” I swallowed nervously
when I saw his expression, though; the bags under his eyes indicated a severe
lack of sleep, even for him.
Chuckling at Jane’s greeting, he leaned an arm on the counter at the booth,
grinning toothily as he said “Wow, you must be new around here if it’s ‘nice to
meet’ me.” He then looked Jane up and down from his new angle before adding
slyly “And, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t you a bit, ahem, old for our
little Petey?” and here he reached out to grab my arm, presumably to drag me
into center-stage for the performance. But his hand flinched when he made
contact with my upper arm, and before I could blink he’d jerked his hand back
and shoved it deep into a pants pocket. It didn’t seem like Jane noticed,
though; her expression had shifted to one of confusion—the ‘I’m not sure if
this is supposed to be funny or insulting’ face people so often sport when Gary
talks with them.
Guess that was my cue to step in. I clapped my hands to interrupt Gary before
he could say anything else. “So! Gary, what movie did you wanna see?” At his
name, he seemed to flinch a little. What’d I do now? Luckily it didn’t seem to
be too big a deal, since he leaned to the side a little to read the whiteboard
without argument. As he read, I relaxed a little and added “I hear Ratatouille
is really good.” Then, more to myself I said “Haven’t seen a new Pixar movie in
a while!” The only reason I’d been able to see any on the big screen during the
loop was because of ‘audience screening night’, where people would bring their
own copy of a film from home to be shown on the big-screen.
Jane nodded. “Yeah, and the last one was Cars.” She made an ‘ew’ face and blew
a raspberry; I laughed, even though that wasn’t quite what I’d meant.
Gary interjected with a question. “What’s this… Black Sheep thing? Says it’s a
horror movie?” And he fixed Jane with a bit of a stare. I’m pretty sure that
Gary doesn’t stare at people like that specifically to creep them out; he
doesn’t even seem to realize it’s weird.
…But at the same time, I was also pretty sure that he would’ve found it funny
that it creeps people out. Jane handled it pretty well for somebody who’d never
met Gary, mostly going “Uhhh” for a few moments where she tried to determine if
Gary realized what he was doing and that it was weird before thinking maybe she
was being weird about it and turning back to look at the board herself to delay
the issue. I had had that exact thought process many times. “That’s… Oh!” Then
she turned back around, an amused look on her face. “Haha, yeah, that’s the
owner’s pick. She really likes horror, and her wife is from New Zealand.” She
then paused at the blank look I and Gary were both throwing her way before
adding “It’s one of those movies where X critter gets a super-gene injected
into them or something and goes crazy, basically becoming like zombies. This
one’s about sheep in New Zealand.” Ooh, okay. I nodded slowly at the dawning
comprehension.
Gary then quickly turned to me and said “You know, that movie sounds fun
Petey!—wanna see that?”
I rolled my eyes at his shit-eating grin, sighing as I said “Come on dude, you
know I don’t like horror movies. Besides, that sounds kinda dumb, you gotta
admit.”
“You’d have to wait until seven to see it, anyway, I’m afraid.” Gary snapped
his head over to Jane, who shrugged. “Usually horror movies are popular with
people going on dates, so we keep those kinds of showings to the evening.” I
nodded—that made sense; I’d read somewhere that going through a traumatic
experience helped build trust, and horror movies are a good way to do that on a
first date.
Gary, however, lowered his voice. “And just what are you trying to imply?” That
was a threat despite the casual tone—I looked over at him, and he had crossed
his arms and was leaning forward.
Unfortunately for her, Jane couldn’t tell how close to his danger zone she was.
“Imply? I wasn’t implying anything, I don’t think—”
Gary let out a bark of laughter and a cruel smirk at that. “Oh, clearly. From
what I hear, not thinking seems to be a specialty for cashiers.” I nearly
groaned in frustration. Jesus, it wasn’t even noon and he was already being a
massive prick.
Pulling out my wallet, I pushed twenty-five bucks under the window. “Two for
the ten o’clock Die Hard movie, please.” I sighed as Jane blinked before
nodding and began typing in the theatre computer. “Feel free to ignore him,
he’s just being an asshole.” Then, turning to Gary, I asked “Jimmy and Zoe’ll
probably like that one, right?”
As the tickets printed out and I looked Gary in the face, the other boy cycled
through a variety of expressions so fast I couldn’t quite pin down what his
thoughts were. By the time Jane was pushing the tickets through the window,
he’d wiped his face of any emotion. “Well Gary, I don’t know what other people
say, but it was very nice to meet you. I hope you both enjoy your movie!” I
thanked her, and moved to head inside, with Gary trailing after me.
Once we were in the air-conditioned theatre, I snorted. “Wow, way to make a
first impression there, Gary.” Then I held out one of the tickets to him as I
looked over at the arcade. Honestly, this was the real reason to come to the
movie theatre; most days we’d buy a ticket for one movie and then spend the
rest of the day playing games at the arcade. Plus, I like how I can soundly
kick everybody’s ass at DDR and Street Fighter. I’m not good at a lot of
competitive stuff, after all. When I glanced back at Gary, though, he still
hadn’t taken his ticket; he was holding his hand out, like he expected me to
hand it to me. I frowned as I placed the ticket in his hand. Something wasn’t
right about this. I sighed—now was probably as good a time as any. “Listen,
Gary…” He blinked, stopping his furious staring contest with the floor to look
up at me. “I know something’s wrong, okay?” The other boy stiffened, but I kept
talking despite that. “I don’t know what it is, but I know there’s something.”
Stuffing my ticket in my pocket, I held up my other hand in an ‘it’s okay’
gesture. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I just want you
to know I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”
At first, Gary didn’t visibly react, instead just staring at me intently. Then,
he said quietly “Why’d you pay?” I blinked. What?
I shook my head, replying “‘Cuz you were being an asshole? You don’t have to
pay me back or anything....” Crossing my arms, I tilted my head questioningly
“But can you cut the bullshit for a second and just say whether you wanna tell
me whatever it is that’s messing with you?” I lifted one eyebrow, waiting for
Gary to get his head out of his ass and say something. He just shook his head,
not looking at me. I sighed a little; I’d expected as much. “Okay, then. Just
lemmie know if you wanna talk.” At least he hadn’t gotten mad. Then I gave a
lop-sided grin, adding “Hey, since I paid, how about you pay for the arcade?”
Things went mostly normally from there on out, with Jimmy and Zoe arriving just
in time to go see the movie with us. Gary and Jimmy sat together, and me with
Zoe. I hadn’t gotten to know her much over the loops, since Jimmy only really
befriended her near the end of the school year, but she was super fun to talk
to. Turns out she’s quite well-read, so she often has a lot to say about
things—even if she claims the only reason she reads is boredom. We spent a
happy hour and a half critiquing the movie together; I hadn’t actually seen the
other Die Hard movies, so Zoe filled me in. Finally, we came out of the movie
and hit the games. I wasn’t sure what Jimmy and Gary had talked about, but Gary
was somehow even more wound up than he had been earlier. I tried not to groan;
great, that meant Jimmy knew something. Or Gary thought he knew something. But
I thought back to my conversation with Jane, reminding myself that it’s not my
place to make Gary tell me what’s wrong with him; he had to tell me himself.
Soon, though, things took a turn for the weird when Jimmy asked “Hey, you guys
wanna go to, um, the carnival?”
I shrugged, saying “Sure, sounds fun.” Gary didn’t give any sign that he’d
heard beyond a very distracted nod.
After leaving the theatre, though, Jimmy suddenly slapped himself in the
forehead. “Oh shit! I forgot, we’ve got a, um…” here he looked at Zoe “aaaa
budget. Meeting.”
There was a moment of silence while everybody processed this declaration. Zoe
responded first, nodding in agreement. “Oh yeah, totally forgot. Very important
meeting. Gotta balance our expenditure and deficit.”
I blinked, and started snickering as Jimmy waved goodbye, Zoe hot on his heels.
“Well, see you guys later! Oh!” Then he walked up to Gary, grabbing his hand
and looking at him pointedly as he shook his hand. “Have fun, man.” He then
backed away, throwing a mock salute.
As I giggled harder at whatever the hell was going on, Zoe shouted over her
shoulder “But not too much fun!” before the pair disappeared from view.
Chapter End Notes
     Anybody who finds a pun I didn't realize was there wins my undying
     admiration.
     I guess you can leave constructive feedback if you want, too. Since
     you're in the comment box and all.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Petey was giggling like crazy as my fist closed around the object that Jimmy
had slipped into my hand. I didn’t bother looking at it as I stuffed it
hurriedly into my back pocket, hoping to God he hadn’t noticed anything;
figures the moron would have condoms on-hand. There were a few moments of quiet
as Pete reigned in his laughter before putting his hands on his hips and adding
“Welp. That was a thing that just happened!” And he started moving in the
direction of the carnival. “Shall we?” I didn’t follow for a moment. Then my
brain screamed at me to FUCKING MOVE already, and I was following in Petey’s
footsteps while he talked about something or other; I was too busy thinking
back to my conversation with the moron from earlier in the day to listen to
him.
Fucking typical that Jimmy Goddamn Hopkins was somehow able to see the only
thing I was trying to hide. He’d, at some point in the middle of the movie,
leaned over and said casually “Hey, so… Pete’s pretty cute, huh?” It was lucky
for me I hadn’t been drinking anything at the time because I absolutely would
have started having a coughing fit.
As it was, I’d shrugged and responded “If that’s what you’re into, I suppose.”
I thought I did an admirable job keeping the panic out of my reply. If Jimmy
was able to figure it out, there was no telling how quickly Petey could catch
on.
But he’d surprised me. “Yeah! Think I should tap that?” Whipping my head in his
direction, I wasn’t able to keep the momentary shock out of my expression
before I narrowed my eyes. He raised his eyebrows and shrugged at me, grabbing
another handful of popcorn as he talked. “I mean, the thing Zoe and I got’s
pretty casual, you know?” Finishing his chewing, he leaned my way and lowered
his voice a bit. “And that kid’s got fuckin’ perfect skin, ya know?” And as he
was grinning at me he licked his lips lewdly.
Before I realized what was happening I’d grabbed the front of his shirt and
yanked him forward so I could growl “You touch him and I will fucking end you,
moron.” I only had a moment to appreciate the fear in his face before realizing
I’d just shot myself in the foot.
Jimmy’s eyes darted to look at where Petey and Zoe were as he whispered “Whoa,
dude, chill! I’m just messing with you, okay? Christ…” and he extracted my hand
from his shirt. Even so, he leaned closer as he continued “Look, man; if you’re
boning for Pete so hard, when’re you gonna ask him out?”
I blinked, the sound of an explosion from the screen sounding in the
background. Leaning as far away from him as I could while remaining in my seat,
I said “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hopkins.” And I resumed
watching the movie, even though I couldn’t care less what was happening to some
bald guy and his reedy little hacker sidekick.
Something that sounded like a slap came from Jimmy’s seat, and I glanced over
to see him with his hand on his forehead. To my horror, he moved up the armrest
and scooted closer to me as he said quietly “Come on, dude! I know you call me
a moron, but I’m not deaf—you’ve had a pet-name for him since we met!”
I snorted at that. “Pet name? What, ‘Femme Boy’? Last I checked that was an
insult.” Still, though; a part of me shriveled to think that Jimmy might have
actually figured this out before I had.
He clicked his tongue in annoyance “Oh, bullshit, Gary; I saw you
yesterday—your eyes were fuckin’ glued to his throat when he was drinking that
soda.” He looked at me incredulously before rolling his eyes and adding
“Seriously, if you’d been lookin’ at me like that I’d-a been on my knees in a
heartbeat.”
I blinked and processed his statement before staring at him in disgust. “What
the fuck? Get away from me!” He shifted away, though not as far as I’d have
liked.
“I’m just sayin’, man.... Look—” here he glanced back to where Petey and Zoe
were sitting, and his expression turned sympathetic. I felt my insides curdle
in disgust at the pitying look he was sending my way as he continued “Askin’
somebody out isn’t easy, I get it. But’chya gotta put yourself out there, you
know? You can’t just let this kinda shit fly under the radar, it’ll fuck
everything up!”
To my immense relief, I saw the credits begin to roll. I hissed “I don’t need
pity from some fucked-up, fatherless bastard” before putting my hand on his
face and shoving him back, slipping out of my seat to meet up with Petey and
Zoe. Oh his piggy face had been pissed, for sure.
“Gary? Hellooo?” I blinked, and noticed a hand waving back and forth in front
of me. It turned out to be Petey, who gave a lopsided grin when I looked at
him. “Geze, Gary, you’re gonna make me go deaf with all the talking you’re
doing.” I shrugged. God, he was adorable. My mind frantically tried to come up
with something halfway intelligent to say, but it was far more interested in
watching the way his mouth moved as he dropped the grin down to a simple smile
as he backed away from me. “You comin’?” I shivered as I followed him,
remembering him saying something very similar in one of my fantasies. He nodded
after seeing me move and turned around to open one of the gates to the
carnival—and even as my eyes were dragged magnetically downward to look at his
butt I narrowed my eyes.
This couldn’t be a coincidence; did he know what Mr. and Mrs. Moron had done?
Having some grounding to base my thinking off of helped me cling to reason even
as hormones demanded I rake my gaze up and down Petey’s backside. My toehold on
sanity finally allowed me to say something bordering on intelligent. “So, what
do you wanna do first, Femme Boy?”
He slowed down, hands casually shoved in his pockets as he glanced at me while
we strolled down the main thoroughfare. “I’m down for pretty much whatever.
What do you wanna do?” I swallowed thickly, looking away quickly. I could think
of some things I wanted to do.... Or people. It must’ve shown in my body
language somehow, because Petey then said “uhhh…”
I interrupted with “How about…” my eyes fell on the baseball-themed game “that
one?” I strode over without looking at him because if I did I would’ve wanted
to grab him and if I did that I wouldn’t want to let go. I leaned on the
counter as that fat Greaser Hal attempted to throw some shots. “Wow,
greaseball, you throw like a girl!” I grinned at him as he threw me a pissed-
off look. Ah, sowing the seeds of chaos; always a fun pastime.
“Hey, watch yer mouth, rich boy.” He leaned closer to me, and I could smell his
breath. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as he continued “Sittin’ on your skinny
ass’d probably kill ya.”
I leaned back, coughing and waving my hand to ward off the smell. “Ugh, do you
ever brush your teeth?” Throwing a pitying look his way, I added “Then again, I
suppose you and Edna are rather suited for each other!” I smirked as his face
turned red with rage. He couldn’t fight me here, not right in front of the
attendant for the game. And he knew it.
But then Petey walked up beside me. “Hi, Hal; oh, is Gary being a prick? Sorry
about that.” He looked at Pete, frowning.
“Shit. Your friend, right?” Petey nodded, and he sighed, annoyed and muttering
“Fine, fine… you’re lucky you’ve got nice friends, dickface…” as he stormed
off.
I groaned, shoving Petey as I added “Goddamnit Femme Boy, can I not have any
fun with the morons in this town anymore?”
Here, Petey gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. “Oh my God, Gary, do
you hear that?” and he held his hand up to his ear, looking off into the middle
distance. I frowned, trying to listen. Then he leaned forward, and his face
split into a grin. “That’s the sound of me not giving a shit!” He leaned back,
laughing. I blinked, but Goddamn if that wasn’t contagious. I joined in, and
soon we were both in stitches. Eventually the guy at the game had to tell us to
fuck off or buy some balls or something, which just sent a fresh wave of
convulsions through my body as I stumbled away, laughing harder than I had in…
a while.
The next few hours, though, quickly drained my good humor away. He knew, but he
wouldn’t just come the fuck out and say anything! He would… touch me, tapping
my shoulder or tugging on my shirt to get my attention. Because apparently he
doesn’t know how to say ‘Hey, look over here!’ like everybody else on the
fucking planet. And he’d do other things too, like asking me if I was okay,
giggling, biting his lip, just… teasing me! Don’t even get me started on the
way he ate cotton candy; all tongue, letting it melt in his mouth, licking
leftovers off his face. God I hated it. Well… that wasn’t entirely true; there
were multiple occasions where I had to make my excuses to go to the bathroom
when I felt a bulge growing in my pants. But I hated how he wouldn’t even
comment on that, just nod in his ‘oh I’m so understanding’ Femme Boy way and
wait patiently doing something else while I fapped my fucking brains out as
quietly as I could. It was torture—knowing what I wanted so badly was right
there but that I could never have it. I could feel myself balancing on a
knife’s edge, trying to keep it under control but at the same time knowing I
was only a breath away from just giving in and shoving him to the ground and
doing… doing something, I didn’t even know what!
The straw that broke the camel’s back came when I was just making casual
conversation and had said something questionable. Apparently. And of course my
eyes were glued to his lips as he licked them before biting a little, sending
blood straight to my groin again. But that wasn’t all, oh no! A few seconds
later he, and I swear to fucking God in Heaven this is true, started moaning. I
shoved him away as hard as I could, glowering as he stumbled and fell. “STOP.
Just stop it!” I had my fists clenched and my arms were vibrating; I hated how
weak my voice sounded, like I was begging. “Stop fucking playing with me like
this!” He couldn’t possibly be doing all this stuff by accident! Petey is
smart, and he knows me better than anybody else. There was simply no way he
didn’t know what he was doing to me.
But he looked up at me with a ‘that was so hurtful why would you do that’ look
and said “Wha… playing with you?” Using the wall to pick himself up off the
ground, he gestured over to the carnival games. “Isn’t that the whole point of
coming here?”
I breathed heavily for a couple of seconds before I started laughing coldly.
“Oh, that’s just hilarious, Petey! That’s tooootally what I meant!” I lowered
my voice to a snarl. “Just admit it, Pete; you must be having sooo much fun
torturing me.” I grinned cruelly as Petey blinked, trying to absorb the fact
that I’d caught him in his little game. “See, I was wondering why you were
still hanging around with me—all that talk about having to settle for being
friends with somebody like me?” I shrugged and added “Now that you’ve got real
friends, what do you need me for?” Here I laughed; “But I finally figured it
out! You keep me around to mess with me, don’t you?”
Petey’s face had taken on a look of horror that just pissed me off. He answered
me after stammering “Wha… you… G-Gary, of course I don’t! What are you talking
about?” Oh that was just fucking rich!
“Save it, Kowalski! I know you.” His face turned even more horrified at that.
“You think you’re so FUCKING perfect!” I started walking up to him, and his
back hit the wall as I advanced. “Oooh, look at me, I’m Peter Kowalski, I’m the
only sane motherfucker in this hell-hole!” Planting my hands on either side of
him, I leaned in and started whining “Oooh, my crazy roommate is the only one
who’ll be friends with me!” I was closer to him than I had been in a week and
the proximity buzzed just under my skin as I leaned in to whisper “Let’s make
him wanna fuck me, won’t that be hilarious!?” and I could feel his body
pressing into mine and it was so warm and inviting as the buzzing ratcheted up
to become a hum that spread over every inch of my skin as I finally gave in and
pressed my lips onto his. God it felt so good. To my delight his mouth opened
shortly after, and I was able to move my tongue past his teeth. My eyes slid
shut and I lapped him up like I was dying of thirst; it was a lot less spacious
in there than I would have expected. I could taste a little bit of cotton candy
as I desperately roved my tongue inside the small space. Either way, the sweet
taste was overwhelmed by the general ‘watery’ flavor; not what I expected
either, but I didn’t care. Was what I was doing even sexy? Who the fuck knew, I
just wanted more. My hands moved from the wall to ball themselves in the front
of his shirt as I deepened my exploration; all those times this week I’d caught
myself staring at his lips and jaw while he talked with a formless wanting
suddenly translated to a very concrete need to memorize everything about his
tongue and teeth and taste. I moaned; I had never thought something as
disgusting as another person’s mouth could feel so good. As I moved my head so
I could try and actually lick the back of his throat our noses rubbed
uncomfortably together. The contact reminded me of reality a bit, enough so
that I was able to notice when Petey started jerkily moving his arms to push on
my shoulders. Coupled with the lack of response from his end, that confirmed my
suspicions. I smirked as I pulled back even as I felt my chest clench painfully
at the rejection. As I stepped back, I said hoarsely “Aw, but Petey, I thought
this what you wanted!” I licked my lips as I examined him. The best word to
describe his expression eluded me; bamboozled, flabbergasted, and
‘wuhbuhhhhh!?’ all came to mind.
“Wh-wha… whaaaat!? Haha, okay…” here he held out a finger and put his other
hand on his forehead as he tried to gather himself. “Okay, just…” He started
laughing a little hysterically before continuing “Gary, is this” and here he
gestured frantically between the two of us “what you’ve been so upset about
this past week?” And he looked at me with such an imploring expression that I
honestly couldn’t find it in me to think that he was messing around.
Still, though; I laughed a little desperately and said “Well what the fuck else
would it be?”
To my annoyance, his expression turned thoughtful. “…that would explain the
sudden aversion to touch… I guess…” A few moments of contemplation filled with
the sounds of the carnival surrounding us passed before he snapped a finger and
pointed at me. “Wait, is that was what the ice cream was about!?”
My lip curled up, and I growled “Well it’s hardly my fault you looked like you
desperately needed a fucking cock in your mouth right at that moment.” His eyes
widened to the size of saucers at that and he held his hands up.
“Whoa! Whoa, that’s um…” Clapping his hands together, he averted his gaze
awkwardly as his cheeks took on a red tinge “Uhhh haha, wow… yeah.” I made a
mental note to try and embarrass him in the future (because he looked adorable)
before I realized I probably wasn't going to be talking to him again, ever. He
rubbed the back of his neck before shaking his head, looking back at me,
confused. “Wait, so… are you saying you… want to ask me on a date?”
My jaw worked furiously as I tried to say something. Eventually I managed a
desperate-sounding “What I’m saying is I want to have sex with you!” I was
hardly so arrogant to assume that Petey would want to fucking date me. Shaking
my head, I turned on my heel and headed toward the exit; no point sticking
around now.
Unfortunately, Petey decided to follow after, saying “Wait, what? Hey! Where
are you going?” I shrugged. All I knew was that I didn’t want to stick around
for this. “Gary, will you just fucking WAIT for a Goddamn second!?” I felt him
grab onto my shoulder, which made me seize up and turn around to shove him
back. To my surprise, though, he anticipated my shove and stepped to the side
just in time to dodge it before quickly snatching up my arm before I could turn
away. “Gary, listen to me. You are one of my best friends, and I am not playing
with you, okay?” He’d begun staring at me intently. It vaguely occurred to me
to think so that’s what it looks like when I do that as he continued talking.
“I don’t… well, I’ve never really considered whether or not I’m, um, attracted
to you…” Here he frowned uncertainly as the blush returned, though less extreme
than earlier, before continuing. “But… I’d be willing to, I dunno, try it out?”
and he stepped closer to me, winding one arm around my waist and draping the
other on my shoulder. My breathing stopped entirely as he leaned closer to my
face, his expression uncertain before he leaned in and pressed his lips onto
mine. I had tried to avoid imagining him kissing me, since I couldn’t replicate
that on my own; but I had ended up spending an inordinate amount of time on it
anyway, and it was exactly like how I had fantasized—lightly pressing his mouth
onto mine, shy and uncertain; pure Femme Boy.
At that moment, my logical brain suddenly decided to join the party and start
screaming at me that I had no idea what I was doing. Was I not doing enough?
Where was I supposed to put my hands? Was I allowed to add tongue to the mix?
What about—my panicky thoughts were interrupted when he moved closer, and his
mouth opened a little to brush his tongue along my lower lip. I groaned, my
arms automatically coming up to wrap around his neck and sucking it into mine
so I could taste more of that warm, soft tongue. It felt weird to taste Petey
in my mouth but oh I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. He explored me much
less desperately than I had him, taking the time to massage our tongues
together, which dialed the heat quickly pooling between my legs up a few
notches. Petey clearly knew what he was doing better than I did, since every
swipe felt assured and practiced—he had the technical aspect down pat. I
shuddered as I felt him brush the roof of my mouth; I let him dictate the terms
of the kiss for now and used the down time to loosen one of my hands from
around his neck and start exploring the rest of his body. At that moment,
though, he retreated and pulled away. I was tempted to tighten my grip on his
neck to keep the sensations going, but I wanted to see his face. So I dropped
my hand to his shoulders as he leaned back. We were both breathing heavily, to
my surprise; as I watched, his flushed face broke out into a huge grin, which
was, to my mind, the best part. He shook his head a little and laughed, and I
commented breathlessly “Wow; Petey…” which just made me want to kiss him again
because holy fuck I just made out with Peter Kowalski.
He snickered bashfully when I said that, rubbing the back of his head. “Uhhh,
thanks? I guess?” The blush had deepened even more, which prompted me to start
nuzzling his face. “Hahaha, um oh-kay?” I had been so utterly certain that
Petey would never want me that a large part of me was still banking on the
last… shit, few seconds being a crazy dream; well, if it was I never wanted to
wake up. Eventually, I kept my forehead rested against his, just looking into
his eyes. I wasn’t moving, but my mind and body were on fire; it was like the
first week that I’d fully stopped taking my meds, with my thoughts flying
everywhere at the sheer possibility and feeling like my skin had pop rocks
fizzing just beneath the surface. It was exhilarating—Christ, if this was what
kissing people was like I could see why Jimmy did it so often. Somewhere in the
haze of adrenaline Petey said uncertainly “Um, maybe we should get out of the
middle of the path?” He moved slowly back from me as he talked, adding “We’re…
kind if in people’s way.”
I blinked as he moved away, only noticing now that we were standing in a rather
public place. As he dropped his hand from my waist and moved further away, I
slid my hand on his shoulder down his arm to grasp his hand. Brushing my thumb
over the scar on the back of his hand, I said absently “Mm, you’re probably
right, Petey.” Then, as we started moving toward the exit, a light-bulb went
off in my head, cutting a swath through the haze of hormones, at least a
little. I smirked, a plan quickly forming in my mind as I began pulling him
along. “Yeah, actually!” He stumbled a little as I picked up the pace, but the
fizzing had died down to just where I was touching him and I wanted that
tingling feeling to engulf my body again. Looking at him over my shoulder, I
grinned as he made eye-contact after straightening up at my burst in purpose
and speed and said “Let’s go someplace that’s a little more secluded, hm?” His
eyebrows went up a little before I turned back around to open the gate to the
carnival to leave.
Tightening his grip on my hand, he said as we left “What did you have in mind?”
I looked back at him, licking my lips at the calm expression he was sporting…
unless you were looking for the sleight color in his cheeks.
I would rather castrate myself with a rusty spoon than bring anybody to my
house, and I figured there would be some way to sneak into his. “I could
probably climb that tree in your yard....” I frowned, thinking of how the hell
I was going to climb a tree.
To my surprise, he started laughing. I turned to look at him as we were walking
down the tunnel, and he said “Or maybe we could, I dunno, ask my parents if you
could stay the night?” I blinked; would that really work? He laughed harder at
my expression. Rolling his eyes, he added “What, did just asking not even occur
to you?” I turned around to avoid eye-contact, because it had not, in fact,
occurred to me to ‘just ask’. That set him snickering as he pulled up alongside
me to peer at my expression. “Oh my God, it didn’t!? Hahaha!”
I shoved him, sacrificing the electric hum of his hand to remind him that I did
have some pride. “Shut up, Femme Boy.” He stumbled, but didn’t fall down—nor
did he stop laughing.
He dialed it back to giggling as he hooked his arm into mine, rolling his eyes
as he added “Oh, Gary—you’re such a fuckin’ basket case!” I narrowed my eyes at
that, but his close proximity set the arm he’d grabbed buzzing all over again
and I kind of stopped caring that he’d technically insulted me. Instead, I
wrapped my other arm around him, pulling him in so I could kiss him again.
Damn, that was fucking intoxicating.
Pulling back, I whispered “Aw, but I’m your basket case, Femme Boy.” Licking
his lips again and moving us toward the wall of the tunnel, I felt the pop
rocks spread from my mouth down the rest of my body as I pressed him against
the wall and began exploring his mouth again in earnest. I wasn’t even sure I’d
be able to make it to his house; especially not after he moaned when my leg
pressed against his growing erection.
I shuddered—holy fuck that was hot. How could I get him to make that sound
again? While sucking on his tongue I began moving my knee experimentally,
assessing what motions made his breath hitch and tighten the grip he had on the
back of my shirt. Eventually I stopped kissing him altogether, instead pulling
back to watch his expression change. His face was screwed up, almost like he
was in pain—but the way he was pressing his head back as he let out some
breathless moans spoke volumes to the contrary. A few minutes in I slipped my
hand in-between my knee and his crotch. There was only so fast I could move my
leg, and I had gotten much more practiced at moving my hand hard and fast over
the past few days. He seemed to like it, because he gasped and bent his head
forward so his head was pressed against my shoulder. “Uhhh, Gary, fuckkk…” Holy
Christ he’d said that just the way I imagined him saying it! The pop rocks went
wild at that, pulsing in a wave that reverberated over my whole body.
I wanted to be able to keep hearing him, but I also wanted to taste him
again.... I turned my head to purr “Say that again” in his ear before settling
for licking the expanse of his neck he had exposed. As I ran my tongue along
his throat, I was delighted to find that I could feel the results of my
handiwork in the form of swallowing, and tiny exhales that would’ve been lost
otherwise, and how he clenched his jaw slightly when I began lapping at it.
Sadly, it seemed he hadn’t heard my request. So I reached down and pulled his
shorts and boxers down, leaving nothing between him and my hand. As I did so, I
said again “Please, Petey… for me?” I shivered a little at that—saying his name
felt almost as good as hearing him say mine.
I paused for a moment to coat the palm of my hand in saliva (I would never make
that mistake again). While I did so, Petey caught his breath a little and
replied in-between pants “Huh? What?” I smirked into his neck—knowing that I
was able to do this to him was making me so fucking hard. Speaking of which, I
began running my hand over his hard-on. Heh, it felt almost like when I did it
to myself, just at a different angle. At that, though, he paradoxically seemed
to wake up. “Whoa, um, hey, whoa!” He straightened his head and yanked his
shorts back up, whispering “Come on man, not here!”
I frowned in disapproval as he pushed me back and wriggled away, the fizzing
dying down again as I whined “What? Why not?” What was his problem? Even as he
moved away I could see the massive bulge in his shorts. Licking my lips, I
forced myself to look up at his expression.
He had stepped back, his face turned away as he slid over on the wall. Bringing
up a hand to rub his arm, he said quietly “Look, I… I don’t know if I wanna go
that far.” Before looking up at me with a worried expression.
The next few moments were filled with the sound of our heavy breathing, the
turning of the fans in the tunnel, and the distant sounds of the carnival.
Apparently, I was supposed to respond. I straightened up, scanning Petey up and
down, kicking my brain as best I could in an effort to remember what he’d just
said. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to formulate a response. “What does that
mean exactly?” Petey’s expression shifted to confusion before quickly
transitioning to realization. Well, that was an improvement, at least.
He shuffled his feet before saying “Before I answer, can you tell me how much
experience you’ve had with, uh, sex before?”
The understanding Petey from my fantasies whispered in my brain, but now I was
terrified that he wouldn’t live up to what I’d pictured. Still, though—if he’d
wanted to screw me over, he could have easily done so by now. I crossed my
arms, giving him a patronizing look. “I had my first kiss, I don’t know, a few
minutes ago. So not much.” To my relief, Petey simply nodded.
“Okay, then I think I should explain some things before we do anything else.”
Pushing off the wall, he gave a little half-smile as he added “Sound good?” I
shrugged; it seemed like I didn’t really have any other choice. He smiled
anyway as I followed, though.
Chapter End Notes
     Huzzah, Gary finally got past his stupid 'will-he-won't-he' phase!
     Remember to write Jimmy and Zoe a thank-you note. (he will not)
     In other news, I believe I have a firm grasp on how long this story's
     going to be--probably about nine chapters? Eight is looking more
     likely, but I'll see how things shape as I edit.
     Now, I know what you're thinking: but what could possibly go wrong
     now that the OTP is together!?
     Well, stay tuned for next week's exciting episode of 'teenagers are
     idiots'!
     Gooood night everybody!
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
I breathed a sigh of relief as the door to my room clicked shut. That had
certainly been an enjoyable meal, but—my chest suddenly hit the door and hands
ran over my sides as Gary growled in my ear, “Finally, I thought that would
never fucking end” as his tongue made its way all over my neck. I shivered a
little at the sensation; I’d had some sex before, but only Lola had ever really
been as forward as Gary was being—and where Lola had other ways to get her fix…
Gary didn’t. I shut my eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he moved his hands
under my shirt and started… was he counting my ribs? In the meantime, I heard
him chuckle darkly and whisper, “You like that, Femme Boy?”
That made me want to groan in annoyance; seriously? Still the insulting nick-
name? I managed to turn around so I could grab his hands as I commented, “I
don’t much care for the nick-name, no; why do you still call me that?” While I
talked, I tugged him over to my bed.
I had not been prepared for this—some bile rose in my throat as I recalled the
parallels from where I tricked him into taking his medication. Still, it was a
relief to know that he wasn’t trying to commit suicide; I’ve never see him
actually do something like that, but there was something in his expression
lately that reminded me of the hopelessness in his eyes from the loop where he
got put in Happy Volts early.
Of course, then he’d kissed me. Which, uh. Wasn’t what I’d expected. Honestly
it was such a shock I was still reeling a bit. Still, as I watched his slightly
dazed expression while we moved through the darkened room, I certainly wasn’t
complaining. I smirked a little to myself as I snapped on a lamp by my bed—who
knew all it took to get Gary to look confused was tolerate a little groping?
He recovered pretty fast, though. As I put my hands on his shoulders and gently
pushed him to sit on the bed, he snickered. “Aw, what, don’t like your pet-
name, Petey?” I snorted, rolling my eyes. Pet name? Since when was that a pet
name?
I shook my head—we could talk about that later. “So our conversation kinda got
cut short.” I was surprised to find myself straddling him as we sat on the bed;
if I’d had to guess, I’d have pegged (cue snickering from Jimmy here) Gary as
on-the-top kind of person. But it felt natural, and he didn’t object, so it was
probably fine.
There was a large part of me that was deeply amused to see him so
distracted—usually he’s so focused and controlled. So, getting to watch him
practically salivate was kind of hilarious. Absently he said, “Mm, I suppose
that’s true…” and started slipping his hands under my shirt and tracing
patterns on my abdomen. I wasn’t sure what to do with my hands, so I draped my
arms over Gary’s shoulders as he occupied himself with feeling me up.
For a few quiet moments, I just closed my eyes and let myself feel the hands
running over me. It had been a while since anybody had touched me like this;
I’d forgotten how nice it is. Then, taking a deep breath, I said, “Yeah, about
the ‘consent’ thing?” I opened my eyes again, checking to see if Gary was
paying attention. This is important stuff, after all. He nodded, but didn’t
seem interested in what I was saying, since he was too busy frowning at the
shirt I was wearing. Natch. Rolling my eyes and removing one arm from his
shoulder, I snapped my fingers in front of his face a couple of times.
“Hellooo? Earth to Gary? This shit’s kinda important, man.” Couldn’t keep the
amused smile off my face, though—this is seriously comedy gold.
He blinked and looked up at me in mild surprise before sighing dramatically and
ceasing the groping, crossing his arms and falling back on the bed. “All right,
all right, fine.” He smirked, adding a snide, “What would your royal Femme-ness
like to discuss?” That gave me pause. …Royal Femme-ness?
I gave a little laugh as I settled in, supporting my weight on my hands. “First
of all, that’s really not your best work, Gary. You clearly should have said
‘her royal Femme-ness’.” I grinned cheekily when he scowled at me. Looking down
at his already considerable erection, I took on a more serious tone and
continued “And now that you actually know what consent is… do you know what I
mean when I say I don’t know if I want to go that far?” As far as I’m
concerned, Gary’s still an enigma. Hell, I’d known the guy for fifteen years
and hadn’t ever considered the idea that he was interested in me romantically.
So the last thing I wanted was any kind of confusion or vagueness. That would
almost certainly come back to bite somebody (probably me) in the ass.
Gary frowned, thinking for a few moments before he uncrossed his arms and
propped himself up. His head was a little below mine, since we’re nearly the
same height now, but it worked well enough. Cocking his head to one side, he
gave his signature ‘scan’ of my face before saying slowly “You… don’t want me
to give you a…” He raised an eyebrow. “Handjob, right?” I sighed, nodding. I
know it’s silly, that most guys ‘my age’ (and even a lot of guys my actual age)
would be happy for the opportunity to get off, but there was… there was a lot
to process about this whole ordeal. I didn’t want to rush into this
unprepared—for fuck’s sake, it’s Gary; I’m not about to just throw the
friendship I’d worked so hard to build under the bus. Besides, I figure if all
else failed, years down the line we could write this off as teenagers messing
around if it didn’t get too serious. He let out a huff, lifting one hand to run
over my shirt, pausing when he reached a nipple. “And does that mean you don’t
want to give me a handjob, either?” I felt kind of bad that I was putting such
a damper on his first ever sexual encounter. I still nodded, though; if I
didn’t tell him what I wanted, that’d be pretty douchey. His eyes narrowed a
little, and he returned to fondling my nipples with a thoughtful “Hm.”
I waited a few seconds, but it didn’t seem like he was going to elaborate. “So…
is that okay?”
After I asked, he stopped his tweaking and looked me straight in the eye. “So
what you’re saying is anything with fewer than two layers of cloth between a
penis and the other party’s hand is a no-go?”
I blinked rapidly at that—as always, Gary managed to say something I hadn’t
expected. “Umm…” I gave it some thought, checking his expression for mal-
intent. Didn’t seem like it; not that that says much. “Yeah, that sounds about
right, I guess.”
Gary nodded, expression still neutral as he pulled himself so he was sitting
more fully on the bed. “Well, that still leaves us plenty of options, doesn’t
it?” As he talked, he pulled my arm with him, and then walked his fingers up
the arm to my shoulder, smirk growing all the while.
I let out a mental breath—good, he was looking at it positively. Hardly a given
for Gary. I was a little surprised at the sultry look he was gazing at me with,
and how I actually kinda liked it. I’ve never really found other guys
attractive before—sure, I’ve masturbated to thoughts of gay sex, but that’s
more about understanding the anatomy better rather than any desire to actually
get with another guy. Or maybe not—maybe I’ve always been into guys, and I’ve
just never been able to act on that; or maybe it’s because Gary’s my friend
that this is all so enjoyable? Licking my lips, I tilted my head in a nod as I
commented, “True, true…” Impulsively, I reached behind my head to grasp at the
hem of my shirt. While I talked, I pulled the shirt over my head. “Did you have
some ideas, or…” When I was able to re-establish eye-contact with Gary, his
expression reminded me of those old cartoons where a cat licks its chops as it
looks at a bird or a mouse and its head fades into a tiny roast chicken. I
added quietly, “…do you wanna follow my lead?”
I swallowed as I folded the shirt. I felt a little… giddy without the small
amount of protection offered by my clothing. As I shifted to set it down, my
shorts and underwear felt a little tighter than they had earlier. Gary eagerly
started running his hands up and down my bare chest, laughing breathlessly.
“Ha, ‘some ideas’ is a bit of an understatement, Petey.” I lowered myself a
little—he wasn’t being all that shy, which was in pretty stark contrast to when
I got to first base the first time. Even so, it didn’t seem like he really knew
what felt good. He was experimenting wildly; one pass of his hand was feather-
light, and another was tapping a bizarre rhythm that I’m sure made sense to
him.
I flinched when he suddenly started pressing into my skin really hard for some
reason. “Ow! Not that hard....” He pulled his hand back from my ribcage,
pausing before he brought his hand up to his mouth, licking his fingers before
using the wet digits to trace some sort of pattern on my chest. My heart
suddenly started racing, and I let out a breathy, “Oh—yeah, that’s... good” as
he continued. I closed my eyes, letting the soothing sensation of hands tracing
lines on my chest wash over me—man the way the touches lingered with his
saliva…
Gary whispered, “You like that, Petey?” One of the hands retreated as I nodded,
half-opening my eyes as my breath shortened further. I saw him slather his
tongue all over his hand before he shifted me forward and resumed rubbing my
chest. “I’ve been thinking about you almost non-stop these past few days, you
know.” I leaned forward, tired of supporting my own weight, instead resting my
forehead on Gary’s. He hardly seemed to notice, simply taking the opportunity
to start lapping at more of my skin. In between licks, he continued, almost to
himself. “How it would feel to touch you…” He lowered his head and was dragging
his tongue all over my chest now and, while weird, the sensation was oddly
pleasant. “…how you’d touch me…”  I shifted so my legs were on Gary’s either
side, and I was actually sitting down. That put my face closer to his, and he
suddenly wrapped his (still saliva-slicked) hands around my shoulders and waist
to pull me closer and kiss me with the same hunger that he’d had before. But I
got distracted by the movement to get me closer to him, which had rubbed our
erections together and wooow that felt great! I moaned into Gary’s mouth,
tightening my grip on his body as I moved to try and replicate the friction.
But as I tried to shift my hips forward, his entire body shuddered and curled
in on itself, his mouth separating from mine as he bent his head and let out a
weirdly animalistic sound. Oh crap, did something happen? “Shit, are you okay?
Are you hur—” but then something was rubbing my dick through my shorts and the
rest of my sentence was lost because, I mean, a hand other than my own on my
dick was, erm, still a novel experience. “—urrrt ooohhh…”
A few moments later though, it lightened considerably, and Gary said hoarsely
“Pete. I need you to do something for me.” We were both panting—though I wasn’t
sure why he was so breathless. I nodded anyway; I wanted more friction, but I
was actually more curious about what Gary’s deal was. He smiled toothily at my
nod. “Perfect. Petey…” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before seeming
to force himself to speak. “I… need you to say my name the same way you did
earlier, in the tunnel.”
I blinked. Back in the tunnel? Gary was looking at me neutrally as he rubbed me
very gently—keeping me hard, but not enough to really work me up. I tilted my
head, trying to think of what I’d said earlier. It was kinda blurry, though. I
said slowly, “I don’t think I remember that exactly… but I can give it a try?”
His eyes narrowed at that—apparently that wasn’t the correct answer.
He shrugged, saying, “Let’s hear it, then.” And he shot me such a superior look
that it just made me laugh. It’s just like Gary to challenge somebody, even
during sex! “Something funny, Femme Boy?” He was glaring, now. Naturally.
I rolled my eyes as I shifted my hips, trying to increase the pressure. “Yeah,
you, duh; mmmmm…” Suddenly, he started shifting his hand so that I couldn’t get
any friction. “Hey!” I wined and rolled my eyes. “Come on Gary, that was a
compliment?”
He shrugged as he moved away. “A shame I don’t feel complimented, then.” I
blinked, then bit my lip trying to avoid laughing at his pissy expression.
I looked down at my erection to distract myself. Hm… well, another time then. I
turned around and slid off the bed—should probably brush my teeth and stuff
before going to sleep. “Okay, okay, sorry; I didn’t mean to ‘offend’ you.” As I
moved toward the door, I added, “You can use my toothbrush if you want, by the
way, it’s cool.” But when I turned back to him, he looked horrified for some
reason. “…What?”
He uncrossed his arms and started gesticulating wildly as he stammered
incoherently for a few seconds before finally saying, “Y-you can’t just leave!”
while gesturing to his own erection. He started crawling toward the end of the
bed, closer to where I was standing by the door. “Petey, please…” The
desperation in his voice was, frankly, more than a little disturbing.
I bit my lip before looking askance and saying, “Look, I don’t really know what
you want me to do, exactly.” His face screwed up in confused desperation for a
couple seconds before I put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, explaining this
stuff can be kind of hard.” I shrugged, giving him a smile. “And hey, if I did
it once I’ll probably do it again—then you can point it out, right?” That
stopped the weirdly helpless expression, at least. Eventually he nodded, and I
allowed myself a relieved breath. Now that I don’t know outcomes directly,
interacting with Gary requires even more of those patented mental back-bends I
had developed over the years. “All right, so do you wanna brush your teeth and
stuff first, or…” He gave me a long look before shaking his head, shifting back
to lie down with his hands behind his head. I rolled my eyes, but smiled
despite myself as I left the room. That was a ‘plottin’ stuff’ face if I ever
saw one. Hm… so… did I want to let him sleep on my bed and I sleep on the
floor, or should he take the guest room? Gary probably wouldn’t want to sleep
in the same bed as me—he doesn’t exactly seem like the ‘cuddly’ type.
Finally done, I returned to my room to find somebody rooting around in my
closet. From the depths of the clothes, I heard a muffled, “Hey Femme Boy,
what’s…” and his head poked out, along with something in his hand. “…this
thing?”
I scoffed as I rolled my eyes and pulled the door closed. “No, that’s fine
Gary! You’re welcome to dig around in my personal junk. Really, don’t worry
about it.”
His eyes narrowed, but he replied without missing a beat. “Why thank you Petey.
Now, what the hell is this?” I finally focused on the thing in his hand, and I
felt myself break into a grin.
“Oh man, those’re my old Sonic PJs!” I walked over to him, taking the soft
shirt and pants, drinking in the familiar patterns of my childhood. “Haha, wow,
I haven’t seen these in years.” Knuckles, Sonic, Tails, and the Chaos Emeralds
were printed on the old flannel pants—I’d been pretty disappointed when I
unwrapped them (Christmas and all), but I still wore them practically every
night for years before I outgrew them.
Gary, meanwhile, was peering down at them with the air of somebody trying to
decipher a foreign language. “Sonic? What, that old video game?” That made me
laugh.
“Old? Dude, they still make Sonic games! Unfortunately…” I glared at nothing in
particular for a couple seconds, thinking about one scene in particular which
shall not be named from the game my parents had got me over the loop for
Christmas. Shaking my head, I took the hanger for the clothing in his hand and
gave Gary a grin. “Trust me, man—don’t get me started on the Sonic franchise. I
will talk your ear off.”
As I was occupied putting the hanger back in the closet, I felt arms wrap
around my waist as he hugged him from behind. I still wasn’t wearing a shirt,
so the warmth from his body was undeniably pleasant. He whispered, “Aw, you’re
welcome to talk, Petey” as he nosed my hair. I felt kind of frozen as Gary’s
arms tightened a little and he muttered, “mm you smell nice.”
I felt like if I moved, that would break this weird spell of quiet that had
overtaken the room. I whispered when I responded. “Uh… thanks?” Eventually, I
leaned forward a little, managing to return it the closet. I shut the door too,
but by then he had plastered himself even closer to my body, and I wasn’t sure
how he’d respond to moving somewhere else. I did kind of want to go to sleep at
some point; it had been a loooong day. “Hey, um… so do you wanna sleep in the
guest room, or in my bed and I sleep on the floor, or?…”
At that, Gary started actually dragging us backward. “How about we both sleep
on the bed? Isn’t that how these things work?” At that point he started
trailing his mouth over my neck, and I just let myself be moved.
“Sure, if you wanna, I guess that’s cool.” I yawned as Gary moved us, which
prompted him to spin me around and start making out with me again. Well okay, I
guess. The angle was a little awkward, so we ended up kind of crashing into the
bed and falling down. I laughed as he rolled on top of me and pressed himself
as close to me as he could, now experimenting with sucking on my neck. “Geez,
man—aren’t you tired? You look like you haven’t slept in, like, two days or
something.”
I felt Gary snort before sitting up and adjusting himself so he was more
comfortable. He sure looked comfortable—the superior smirk and the higher
position suited his condescending tone when he said, “Puh-lease, Femme Boy—two
days is nothing.” He began running his hands over my chest again, which
appeared to take up all his concentration since he stopped talking.
I sighed as I scooted back a bit to get the light. “Do you really still need to
call me that?” Gary crawled with me as I turned over to snap my bedside lamp
off. I added to myself, “I swear, it’s like you use it even more these days.”
There were a few minutes of quiet as I just let Gary trail his hands up and
down my torso in the dark. I haven’t had sex much—it’s only been five or so
times, since there’re just two girls who’d ever expressed an interest in me.
And neither girl with had really… touched me like this. Well, they had. But not
really afterward; it was kinda nice to be touched ‘anyway’, rather than ‘for
the purpose of’. Gary suddenly broke the silence as he said quietly, “What, you
don’t think it’s accurate?” He then moved off of me, lying down next to me and
hugging my arm. Guess I was wrong about him not liking cuddling.
I frowned as he nuzzled himself into my neck and hair. “No, it’s not; I’m not a
girl.” He chuckled and shifted his leg so it was pressed against my crotch.
He positively purred, “Oh, I know you’re not a girl, Petey” before shifting his
arms to wrap more fully around my body. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have traits
normally associated with girls, though.”
I snorted, muttering, “Yeah, like forgetting a red sock in the wash once.” In
response, I felt Gary frown.
“No… it’s more than surface stuff like that…” He pulled away and began running
a hand through my hair as he continued. “…You try and empathize with other
people… you’re patient… you ask questions before rushing in…” he trailed off
before removing his hand and moving back in to lap at my neck and smirk. “Not
to mention your skin is wonderfully soft.”
I rolled my eyes, whispering back, “Oh sorry if I didn’t see it as a compliment
with the way you say it.”
I let the sound of crickets from outside wash over me as he muttered, “Mmm…
maybe I can make it a compliment” before pressing the side of his head into my
shoulder.
By that point, though, I was drifting off and I wasn’t even sure I’d heard
anything. I murmured back, “Sure, man… you do that…” before giving in to sleep.
Chapter End Notes
     Okay, I admit, Sonic the Hedgehog pajamas with characters other than
     Sonic is probably pushing the realm of plausibility. But that would
     mean no Tails.
     And I like Tails.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: mildly questionable consent that’s resolved pretty quickly.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
I knew it’d been a mistake as soon as I’d said it. It was a few weeks or so
into Pete and I being… an item, I suppose, and we were hanging out with Mr. and
Mrs. Moron as per usual in another one of Jimmy’s inexplicable hideouts. We had
just been making idle conversation and gossip for a few hours, and at some
point we had somehow got on the subject of age. Zoe had said something about
Burton. “Fucker used to slap me on the ass” were her exact words, I believe.
I’d shifted so I was nuzzled into Petey’s neck—God, that contact still lit my
nerves on fire—and said, “Heh, guess you can call me hot for teacher, then.”
Usually Petey would just shiver and laugh, maybe gently push me away in public,
or during a conversation. Not that we’d been having a lot of those in private
lately. I should’ve realized something was off when his only reaction had been
a few moments of silence followed by a worried-sounding, “…what do you mean?”
I pulled back a little, automatically clarifying myself. “Well, you and Burton
are the same age, aren’t you?” Instantly Petey flinched like he’d been doused
in ice-cold water, and he turned to me with an expression of fast-escalating
horror. I quickly added, “I mean, technically. Not really.” I hooked my arm
around his neck and pulled him in to kiss him. He softened up automatically,
but my stomach still had a cold lump of dread in it.
My suspicions were confirmed as I pulled away and gave Pete my best reassuring
smile only for him to frown. “Well. Technically I am Burton’s age. He’s, like,
thirty-something, right?”
Zoe piped up, adding, “Forties. Dude’s pushing forty-eight, I think.”
I let out a breath. “See, Femme Boy? Nothing to worry about.” Come on, please
drop it!
Luckily, Petey seemed to hear my plea, since he just said, “Yeah…” and nothing
more. Thank God. I wound my arm around his waist, burying my face in his
shoulder. All I knew was that I wanted to keep exploring these incredible
feelings. Besides, why would Petey want to stop? He enjoys this stuff too;
maybe not as much as I do… but he still likes it. I smirked to myself—hell, if
it was really a problem, I had been thinking about going down on him for a few
days now; perhaps that would alleviate any worries he had.
As night began to fall and the great moron duo decided to kick us out, I began
wandering my way toward Petey’s house, making idle chit-chat. “So, what would
you say to my tongue on your balls, hm?” Well, maybe not so idle.
“Wait, we can’t go to my house—my parents asked me not to tonight, they’re
having guests…”
Shit. “And you didn’t say this earlier because?…”
He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I forgot! Sorry. We can just go
to your house, though, right?” Fuck. I didn’t say anything for a moment,
mulling over my options. I did not want Petey in my house; it is a place of
fucking misery and I didn’t want him anywhere near it. But I couldn’t think of
anywhere else we could go at this time of night and be alone. …Unless…
“What about that room under the comic shop?” His face scrunched up as he
thought and God help me it set the butterflies that constantly dogged my
stomach these days fluttering like crazy.
After a moment, he said, “Would they let us in? I mean, I know the guy behind
the counter knows we’re Jimmy’s friends… but is that enough?” I shrugged. Who
knows?
“Might as well find out, hm, Femme Boy?” He rolled his eyes at the nick-name.
I’ve been using it so often this past week that it sounded much more like a
term of endearment at this point. At least, that was the idea. Either way, he
nodded and we headed over to the comic shop. Petey said some stupidly nice
thing to that idiot Zack, but eventually we were able to head to the basement
and shut the door to the side room.
I groaned as soon as the door snapped shut, quickly pulling him into a kiss.
“Finally! Geez, why’s it always take so damn long?” The tingling feeling spread
over my body like wildfire, and I grinned as I licked his lips, silently asking
him for entrance. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as accommodating as usual.
He pulled away, saying quietly, “No, Gary, not now… we gotta talk.” I haven’t
ever been in a romantic relationship, but I’ve heard that phrase enough times
in movies and TV shows for it to trigger the return of that pit in my stomach.
I ignored it, though, pulling him over to the bed (which was really more of a
glorified mattress) as I said, “Make out now, talk later, ‘kay, Petey?” I
grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it up and muffling whatever he was
saying.
When the shirt cleared his head, he said in a rather frustrated tone, “Gary,
no! We gotta talk now.”
Shit, shit, shit… I straddled him, ignoring what he said and tracing patterns
over his neck with the tip of my tongue—he loves that. In between laps, I said,
“Hmm… are you… sure about… that?” He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as I
slowed down and got into the rhythm of things. I smirked, moving my mouth to
suck on his collarbone as I stealthily undid his shorts. Taking a break in the
stimulation I murmured in his ear, “you never did say anything about your cock
in my mouth…” before planting my mouth over his again. I ran my hands over his
boxers, too—he was getting hard; good thing, I’d been sporting a hard-on since
the door clicked shut.
As I slipped my hand into his underwear, though, he reached down and pulled it
out. He separated from my mouth, saying breathlessly, “No Gary, come on—we
gotta talk, okay?” No, no, no, no! I tugged the band of his boxers down with my
other hand and stroked him; he gasped. Perfect—I started lapping at his chest.
But he inched back until I couldn’t touch him. “Gary, cut it o—” I shoved him
back, laying down on top of him and licking the inside of his mouth as
desperately as I could. Please, please just let it go! That seemed to make him
more pissed off, and he started wriggling out from under me and shoving me
away. “Gary, for fuck’s sake! Get off me!”
I grabbed both his wrists and pinned them to his side as I straddled him.
“Fine. You wanna talk, then talk.” I breathed heavily for a few moments as he
attempted to free himself before staring me in the eye.
“Let me go.” I shrugged, dragging his hands up so they were above his head.
Quietly, I asked “Why?” as I kissed him less fiercely. I’d lost, I knew that
much. By now, he’d clamped his teeth firmly together and I couldn’t get past
them. I sighed, tightening my grip on his wrists as I laid my head down next to
his. “…fine. What did you want to say.”
He huffed. “Geez, you’re acting like you know already.” I shrugged as I pressed
myself closer to him, breathing in. The look of horror on his face from earlier
today was at the forefront of my mind; but hey, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it was
something completely different. Stranger things had happened—like him liking me
back. As Petey sighed and prepared to speak, though, I really doubted it.
“Look… I was just thinking… about how old I am? Technically, you know?”
I sighed; no such luck of being wrong, apparently. “Mmhm.” I started nosing his
hair—man, it’s been getting so long.
He didn’t say anything for a moment before continuing. “Well… I just think…
well, I’m really thirty. And. Um. You only just turned fifteen…”
I pushed myself up and sat up so I was straddling him. “When were you born,
Femme Boy?”
He blinked, frowning as he answered automatically, “Uh, August 25th?”
I rolled my eyes. “What year?”
“Oh. 1992… but—”
I dipped my head back down and interrupted him with a kiss before pulling back
and saying quietly, “Then you’re fifteen too, right?” As I did so, I began
rubbing my erection over his crotch; I exhaled sharply. Hot damn that felt
good.
Petey agreed, since he bucked his hips into the heat a little himself. After a
moment he said, “I-I mean, technically I am–” I reached down and tugged his
boxers off while he spoke and propped himself up on his hands. “–But age isn’t
really about physical age, it’s…” Then I bent down and began trailing my nose
(and tongue) down his chest. “–about… experienceee… ohh…”
I took the opportunity get my own two cents in. “Come on, Petey—anybody would
agree that you’re fifteen, right?” I reached his erection and flicked my gaze
up to meet his as I moved my face so I could trace his dick with my nose. He
moaned, closing his eyes and doing this little wiggle of pleasure. Hot! And
that was perfect; a horny Petey is a quiet Petey. Or not talkative, at least. I
licked my lips and dragged my lower lip up his length as I continued
speaking—quietly now—“Come on, I just want to make you feel good~” Then I
darted my tongue out to touch his tip. I had no idea what I was doing, but I’d
actually asked Jimmy for, well, some advice. He’d enthusiastically begun
listing various acts—tugging, stroking, licking, and vibrating had all been in
there. I brought up the various terms he’d used throughout the lecture as I
slowly slid my tongue over Petey—hm. Probably best to keep it simple for a
while.
I started by lapping at the base and working my way up. I’d honestly been a
little surprised by how well-endowed Femme Boy is. I was especially grateful
for the added length as I added a pumping hand to the mix and slipped his tip
into my mouth, nearly moaning myself at the sounds Petey was treating me to.
“G-Gary, wait… jus–ohGod~!” His hands came up to grip the back of my head—to my
surprise, it turned me on. A lot. I kept pumping with my hand, but slathered my
tongue up and down the shaft; to my delight he groaned and began bending
forward with his face screwed up. Oh, he liked this. I would’ve smirked, but I
was too busy taking him in more. His grip on my hair tightened as I was able to
take him in deeper. I was surprised to find how hard I was getting at having a
dick in my mouth… what would happen if I could take him all the way? But before
I could consider it more, he began tugging my hair like he wanted to pull me
off. “Stop it! Gary, please, stop…” I looked up at him and he looked… scared.
Really scared.
I frowned, pulling back reluctantly. As soon as I did, he skootched away,
breathing heavily. “…what? Did that hurt, or something?”
He shook his head as he pulled his boxers back up. He curled up, away from me
as he panted. “No, no, I’m fine… I just… you didn’t let me talk.” He kept his
gaze trained on the fastening for his shorts as he began talking like he
wouldn’t get the chance to continue. “Gary, I’m so sorry but I just don’t think
I can do this.” Pulling his knees in, Petey refused to look at me as he
continued. “And I know that you’re probably upset… but… but you’re a child, you
can’t make these decisions for yourself yet.”
What!? “I can’t make my own decisions? Since fucking when!?”
He sighed, his eyes still closed as he said calmly, “Because you’re not old
enough. You haven’t even been in a romantic relationship before, you’re… it’s
just not okay for me to be with you, okay?” I could feel my stomach curling in
on itself. I had only just figured out I could even be attracted to anybody,
and now he didn’t… he didn’t want me anymore? The fucker still wouldn’t look at
me!
I licked my lips as I said hoarsely, “But… but it’s fine! You’re not going to
get any trouble, nobody would even know unless you told them!” I started
crawling toward him “Please, Petey… look at me…” I touched his arm, and he
actually listened to me, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye as he
sighed. I began pulling him into a hug but he pulled away.
“Gary, it’s not about getting in trouble, or what other people think, it’s just
what I think is right, okay?” I frowned. What the hell was he even talking
about? He continued “This is just what we were talking about… the consent
thing.”
I could not believe what I was hearing! “I-I want you! What the h—are you
saying I’m raping you??”
He started waving his hands in denial immediately. “No, no, no! I mean… just.
Look, in order to give consent, you have to be able to.” He rubbed the back of
his head as I shifted closer to him and started rubbing a circle on his back.
“And if you’re too young, you can’t, by law, give consent. Like, if a person is
mentally handicapped or…” I shrugged as he petered out again, and he even let
me wrap my arm around him before abruptly turning and shifting away again.
I huffed—Christ, this was annoying—but I took offense to that. “What, so just
because I’m young means I’m as stupid as somebody who’s drunk or high?”
Pete grimaced. “I didn’t mean it like that, geez Gary!”
Icily, I responded, “Well, you’re comparing my ability to say that I want to
have sex with you to that of somebody who’s ingested a bottle of whisky. I
don’t see—” But he cut me off.
“I am not talking semantics with you, Gary. This is wrong, and you can’t change
my mind about it. End of story.” There was a minute of silence during which the
horror of the situation that I’d managed to keep bottled up suddenly began to
seep out. I was surprised by how painful it felt—the rejection. I’ve always
thought of myself as more of a cold calculator who doesn’t let emotion get in
the way of things, but as the reality of feeling my chest compress like it was
in a vice hit me it rather called that fact into question. “…Gary? Gary, are
you okay?” I tried to take deep breaths, but I was having some trouble
breathing. I blinked—was I crying? I lifted a hand up to my eyes, but they were
perfectly dry. For some reason, that made me feel even worse, and I felt my
breathing get sharper. “Shhh; hey, it’s okay, come on…” I felt warm arms pull
me into a hug and suddenly all that fear and pain turned to an emotion I was
far more familiar with: anger.
I shoved Petey away as violently as I could, screaming at the top of my
lungs—this was his fault! “FUCK YOU!” I couldn’t think of anything else to say,
so I just balled my hair up in my hands and yelled into the cage of my arms.
“AAAAAAHHH!” I felt him touch me again, but I slapped him away and screamed
“GET OUT! YOU LITTLE FUCK!” He was backing away from me like I was a wild
animal now. “YOU LEAD ME ON, THEN JUST FUCK ME OVER? GET OUT! GET OUT
GETOUTGETOUTGETTHEFUCKOUT!” I beat my fists on the door after he scrambled out,
screaming until I could barely breathe anymore—so I grabbed the first thing I
could and threw it. The keyboard made an unsatisfying clunk, so I picked it up
and hurled it again, and again, and again until finally a few keys flew off and
pinged against the walls and the floor. I breathed heavily for a moment before
feeling a lump catch in my throat and snarling to myself as I threw the piece
of machinery against the ground as hard as I could and stomped on it until I
heard a CRUNCH that indicated it’d been broken. That made me stop, catch my
breath again as I stumbled to the mattress on the floor.
I focused on the all-consuming numbing feeling that was overtaking my senses
rather than think about how I was never going to see Petey again or touch him
again or see his smug, cocky expression when he beat me in Streetfighter or
concentrate so hard to feel his heartbeat through my chest until it was like my
own heartbeat ceased to be and he was part of me or kiss him in front of his
parents or being pushed to the brink of physical pleasure and maybe even sanity
and then past it but it was always okay because he was right there with me and
I could count on him to bring me back from the terrifying thoughts those
moments brought on like ‘I love him’ and ‘I need him’ and he would just smile
that FUCKING smile and the whole world was okay or… or…
That was when the gross sobbing began.
Chapter End Notes
     Funny thing about this chapter is that I had actually forgotten that
     Pete actually has, you know, thirty years worth of memories myself.
     Whoopsie diddily noodle
     As always, leave your constructive and destructive feedback below!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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