Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/291737.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Skins_(UK)
  Relationship:
      Sid_Jenkins/Tony_Stonem, Sid_Jenkins/Original_Female_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Masturbation, Voyeurism, Questioning
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-12-11 Words: 1161
****** What Happens in a Loo, Stays in a Loo ******
by gala_apples
Summary
     After Sid is utterly traumatised, Tony tries to help him out. Set pre
     106(Russia)
Sid's hands smell like cunt. He's sitting in math class, trying to not think
about what just happened in the loo, and the lesson sure as hell isn't
distracting him well enough, and he went to prop up his head with his hand for
just a minute and his hand smells like cunt and he thinks he's going to vomit.
He puts his arm flat on the table, palm flat, fingers splayed. It rests there
for all of five seconds before he's raising it again and sniffing. Because it's
not bad enough to throw himself off a bridge once, he's got to do it a dozen
times. It still smells wrong.
He can't remember what year people switched over from raising hands and asking
to go to the bathroom, and needing a special hall pass, to just slipping out as
quietly as possible. He wants to remember, wants to think about trivial shit so
he doesn't have to worry about it.
Ostensibly the plan was just to use the gross, honey perfumed soap to scrub
with until his hands bled, but before he knows it, he's standing outside Tony's
class. It feels right, Tony's always the one he brings his problems too. The
thing is, he's really committed to making a scene if he opens the door. In the
end there's no question, he puts his hand on the knob and twists. He needs to
hear Tony's voice, even if Tony only calls him an idiot that's comforting
because it's normal.
"What can I do for you, Mr Jenkins." He's not surprised at the snotty tone.
Most teachers don't notice him, they expend their energy on students that need
it, deserve it. But once in awhile he'll get a teacher that really hates him
for being so mediocre. It's the 'I see a bit of myself in you' syndrome, and
Sid hates it.
"I need Tony." And wow, he didn't mean for that to come out so baldfaced and
needy, but there it is.
And apparently Mr Stevens doesn't give a toss about need, as he replies "as you
can see, we're in the middle of a lesson."
"Yeah, but-" He's got nothing planned out, but whatever he says won't be good.
He knows that much.
Luckily Tony saves him. Like always. He raises his hand and says "I have to
piss" and just stands and walks out without giving a Stevens a chance to say
anything. Sid is left standing at the head of the class for a moment before
following. They go to the bathroom, a totally logical choice for private
conversations. The minute they're through the door Sid's stomach lurches at the
associated memories. It isn't good. What if he can't piss for the next year and
a half because he's traumatized?
"Tony I think I'm asexual."
"What?" Sid had thought he might shock Tony. Tony wasn't the sort of person
that understood not using every whiff of lust to its best advantage. But his
declaration gets a single word, and a toneless, apathetic one at that. It's
almost offensive, except Sid's learned too much to ever be truly hurt by his
best mate.
"I don't like sex."
"Oh, really?" Like Sid saying he doesn't plan to ever get laid is just as
common as buying a half-pint of milk in the cafeteria.
"My hands smell like vag and I want to vomit."
Finally, a real emotion. Even if it is just curiosity, it's better than
nothing. "Why do your hands smell like fanny?"
"I don't want to talk about it."
"You've tried washing your hands?"
"That's not the point Tony!" Fucking hell, since when was his best mate such a
bloody idiot?
"So you're not freaking out because you smell like pussy. You're freaking out
because you smell like pussy and you don't like it." Tony waves his arm about
in a way that Sid thinks is supposed to mean something. "That's fine. Some
girls smell really bad."
Sid shakes his head miserably. He's heard all the dirty cafeteria talk, and
it's not like that. "It wasn't like you hear, fish or tuna or pickle. It was
almost sweet. It was just really wrong."
"Well, what do you want a girl to taste like?" They've segued into a different
sense, like Tony actually saw Brooke shoving her wet fingers in Sid's mouth
rather than just heard a vague less-than-story about it. It's sort of
infuriating that Tony just knows everything, without ever having to struggle.
"How the fuck should I know?" It comes out a lot harsher than any conversation
he's had with Tony before. It's just very fucking stressful. Getting to finger
a hot girl in a loo should have been the best experience of his life to date.
Not knowing why it was the utter opposite is making him rigid and tense.
"You ever consider tasting guys?"
"What the fuck, Tony?"
"It's less sweet. You might like it better." Sid doesn't know what's worse,
that Tony somehow knows what blokes taste like, or that a single fucked up
encounter with a girl is enough to make everyone think he's queer.
Sid doesn't say anything, just drops his face into his hands. They still reek,
it's still freaking him out but it's better than Tony seeing him blush. He is
prepared to keep his face covered until Tony gets exasperated and leaves. He
reckons it'll be soon, Tony doesn't have much patience, at least not when it
comes to him. A minute later though Tony is shoving his hand into his face,
cupping his nose. It smells funny and Sid drops his hands in time to see Tony
cram his hand back down his jeans.
"I'm going to get off and you're going to smell me and tell me if you like it
better." It's bold but casual, the way Tony always acts. He's wanking off in
front of Sid, and he's acting like it's the most normal thing possible. This is
why he comes to Tony when he's got a problem.
Tony's not a noisy wanker, nor does he obviously try to hold his noises back.
He's just jerking his arm, the occasional grunt popping from his mouth. At one
point he stops and unzips, pulls down his jeans and pants and hobbles over to
the sink. After that it's a matter of a minute before he comes into the sink.
Sid watches the spunk slowly drip through the tiny holes in the drain so he
doesn't have to look at Tony's face.
And then there's a hand on the lower half of his face. Tony's hand smells
sweaty, musky and vaguely sour. It's a far better thing.
"Right. Gay then," he stammers out.
"'Sall right, Sid. I'll tell Maxxie later, he'll give you pointers." Tony is
smiling, and Sid is hard, and he's seen two different people get off in a loo
today. He'll definitely never be able to use a school loo again.
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