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~*Happy Birthday, nachtschade!*~
I know it's a lil' late your time, but hey, my writing-brain's been on vaca! Gotta pound it out instead of riding the wave, lol. I hope you've had a great day, and you can enjoy this here story-thing. :D
*HUG*!
Title: Just Parts
Pairing: C/OMC, C/Z (past-tense)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: College-student!Casey goes to Delilah's party. Old friends meet new, new meets old.
Casey descended the stairs fast, feeling like he'd stuck a fork in an outlet, his skin tingling and brain buzzing, trying desperately to ponder what had happened. He'd come back downstairs to distract himself, but in reentering the festivities going on he wanted to rush outside into Delilah's large backyard and hide behind the bushes to think. There were too many people here, loud people, many of them unknown to Casey as they were Delilah's friends from OSU.
“So, you're happy?”
“Yea. Yea, I am.”
“Casey!”
The loud calling of his name made Casey jump and turn to the left; Stan stood there, smiling brightly. He held a can of beer in one hand, the other holding the album Casey had brought. “Hey...” Casey said.
“I finally got a turn to look at this... the trip down memory lane's pretty fucking trippy,” Stan said with a chortle. “I'd almost forgotten about you getting 'tied-up'.”
The laugh Casey made was forced, though he hoped it didn't sound that way. Sure enough, Stan flipped to the page he'd mentioned, which depicted Casey lying on Stan's living room floor; he was a tangled mess, due to the gigantic sweatshirt he'd needed to borrow from the young man after a long, hard day messing around with friends in the snow. It'd been Zeke, of course, who'd decided it'd be funny to stretch the material of the sleeves as far as it could go to turn winter-wear into a straightjacket.
While putting this together, Casey had thought, 'it's okay now; I can think about him and it's not a big deal.' He'd been able to put together old high school memories together without any pangs of regret, sadness or even just bittersweet longing for 'the good old days'. He was fine with it.
“Mmhmm. Sure you are.”
Delilah now arrived, clutching a fancy glass full of strawberry daiquiri between her fingers. “SO glad you have what, four pictures of me without makeup?” she told Casey with the sweetest of sarcasm.
“It's only cos' you'd sweat it off during the snowball fight. You've got a good arm,” Stan told her.
“Has Stokes seen it?” Delilah asked.
“Dunno where that girl o' mine is. Stokes?”
As Stan called for his girlfriend, Delilah sniffed, shook her head and looked to Casey. “Isn't it sickening, these two? It's been what, three years now and he STILL hasn't asked for that chick's hand?” she said.
“Hah, yea well--” Casey went to answer, but was cut off when he felt an arm slide over his shoulders. He turned and found Billy there, smiling wide. “Hey.”
“Hey, babe. Where've you been? 'Been lookin' for ya.” Billy gave a peck to Casey's cheek; he stayed close to continue, “I was getting a bit lonely.”
Casey tried breathing easier as if moved closer to the young man. “Sorry. Got... caught up,” he replied, hoping to end all questions in giving Billy a kiss as well, this time to the lips.
“Speaking of sickening...” Delilah said, but winked, grinned and moved on to entertain her many guests.
“C'mon, you need a drink,” Billy said with a nod to Casey's empty hand.
“You're drunk...”
“No, actually, I ain't.”
“Lay off, okay? It's been years--”
Casey trembled in the here and now as he was led into the kitchen. With the coolers freshly restocked in the mudroom, Billy went over and plucked two Samuel Adams for them. “Your friends are pretty cool,” he said.
“Yea. I've missed 'em,” Casey said, looking around. “Though most of these people, I dunno.”
“Good. It means I'm not as outta-my-depth as I think,” Billy replied.
“Oh, stop. I've talked about you enough to 'em that you may as well have gone to high school with us,” Casey said. He cracked his beer open and leaned back on Delilah's dryer. “Del made sure you had yourself a Chrimbo-card, am I right?”
“Yea, damned right... is she always that generous with gift cards? I wasn't expecting twenty bucks for Starbucks.”
Casey chuckled; he felt a little less nervous now, relaxing against his lover. “She's pure socialite, takes care of 'her people'. So... you're just one of her people.”
“Well, glad I've been accepted into the club.” The look on Billy's face was the lead-up to a heavy makeout session, but it didn't happen; not when another person arrived, moving slowly over to the coolers.
“'Scuse me,” Zeke said in an airy voice as he opened one and drew out an 'Adams as well. Casey went stiff, his swallow hard as the young man stood, cracked the bottle open and looked to him with a smile. “So. How goes it?”
That was a slappable offense, if there ever was one. “Not much. How're you?” Casey replied casually.
“Eh, the usual. Who's this?”
Casey looked to where Zeke nodded and sniffed. 'Yea, as if you don't fuckin' know...' “Billy. He's from my school in San Fran,” Casey said. Looking to Billy, Casey cleared his throat. “Billy, Zeke.”
There was a tiny pause, ending with Billy's wide grin. “Ah. Hi.” He put his hand out, which Zeke took cordially.
“A pleasure.” Zeke smiled back then looked to Casey. “He's the one Stokes told me about-about a thousand times.”
There were reasons for that. The girl knew who was coming to this party, and what Zeke was capable of. Casey doubted Zeke's wanting him back-he simply enjoyed 'the game'. He'd proven that, mere minutes before. Upstairs.
“Cut it out!”
“Why should I?”
“Get OVER it, three-Zeke. Z-Zeke, p-please, don't...”
“Yea, that's him,” Casey said. He shot a piercing warning glare at the boy, who didn't flinch in the slightest.
“Cool, a face to the name. So are you an artist, too?” Zeke asked. As he took a hearty slug from his beer, Billy nodded.
“Yup. Graphic arts,” Billy said.
“Computer stuff, nice. That's what's hot nowadays.”
Slappable, yet again. He hadn't needed to glance at Casey in between 'what's' and 'hot' as he had, had he? Casey did his best to keep from snarling as Billy asked Zeke, “You go to school too?”
“Eh, two-year tech. 'Got an associate's in HVAC.”
“What's that?”
Zeke's smile widened. “Heating, ventilation and air-conditioning. You can thank me for the cozy warmth in this place; Del's furnace died a grisly death a few days ago and called me in a frozen panic,” he said.
“Hah, I'll bet! I ain't used to it being so cold out in Cali. You Ohio-ians get it rough in winter,” Billy replied.
“Bet ya bilked her out,” Casey said, though he regretted making a dig-however innocent-when he saw Zeke turn his small but red-hot smile his way.
“Just parts. She repaid me in other ways.”
THAT wasn't expected, even to Billy, who frowned. “Repaid? I thought...” he drifted off.
“Thought what?” Zeke asked.
“Well... you and Casey, you'd... dated, right?”
“Ah. It's her employee discount at Filene's, not blowjobs.” Zeke lifted a foot to show off the shiny, obviously-expensive leather work boot he wore. “Sweet deal. Steel-toed and everything.”
Billy went red in the face. “S... Sorry, dude.”
“S'okay.”
“Go on, Casey-boy. Say you don't like that.”
“I DON'T!”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire... literally, fuck, you're warm down there...”
“Hey, Zeke! C'mere, you gotta look at this!” Stan now yelled from the other side of the kitchen, waving the album over his head. Casey thanked Christ for the distraction as Zeke smiled and nodded to them.
“Catcha later,” he said.
Casey watched him saunter off, melding with the small crowd in the kitchen. Billy let out a puff of breath. “Wow. I REALLY stepped in it there,” he said.
“It's not easy to offend him. Don't... sweat it,” Casey told him before taking three-quarters of his brew down in record time.
“Yea, well... I see why you went for him.” Billy's smile returned as he leaned in close to murmur, “He is fucking hot.”
Tears almost sprang up in Casey's eyes. He didn't know how he'd chuckled and said, “Yea, I guess,” past the coals burning in his chest and throat, but he managed it.
“You think of me, every time.”
“E-Every time w-what??”
“Every time he goes down on you, fucks you-every time.”
God, it was true.
“Why'd we end it, babe?”
“You wanna go outside?”
Casey, lost in thought, turned slowly to Billy. “Huh?”
“I asked if you wanted to go outside. I need a smoke,” Billy said.
“Yea. Yea, me too,” Casey said; Billy blinked fast and chortled.
“Huh? You don't smoke, silly.”
'I do n-now.' Even Casey's thoughts stammered as he went out the back with Billy. Once on the porch with the other smokers, all of them talking, laughing and listening to the music on the radio on the windowsill, Billy lit a smoke for both of them and shook his head at Casey's choking down the first drag. Casey had always liked Zeke's brand better.
I know it's a lil' late your time, but hey, my writing-brain's been on vaca! Gotta pound it out instead of riding the wave, lol. I hope you've had a great day, and you can enjoy this here story-thing. :D
*HUG*!
Title: Just Parts
Pairing: C/OMC, C/Z (past-tense)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: College-student!Casey goes to Delilah's party. Old friends meet new, new meets old.
Casey descended the stairs fast, feeling like he'd stuck a fork in an outlet, his skin tingling and brain buzzing, trying desperately to ponder what had happened. He'd come back downstairs to distract himself, but in reentering the festivities going on he wanted to rush outside into Delilah's large backyard and hide behind the bushes to think. There were too many people here, loud people, many of them unknown to Casey as they were Delilah's friends from OSU.
“So, you're happy?”
“Yea. Yea, I am.”
“Casey!”
The loud calling of his name made Casey jump and turn to the left; Stan stood there, smiling brightly. He held a can of beer in one hand, the other holding the album Casey had brought. “Hey...” Casey said.
“I finally got a turn to look at this... the trip down memory lane's pretty fucking trippy,” Stan said with a chortle. “I'd almost forgotten about you getting 'tied-up'.”
The laugh Casey made was forced, though he hoped it didn't sound that way. Sure enough, Stan flipped to the page he'd mentioned, which depicted Casey lying on Stan's living room floor; he was a tangled mess, due to the gigantic sweatshirt he'd needed to borrow from the young man after a long, hard day messing around with friends in the snow. It'd been Zeke, of course, who'd decided it'd be funny to stretch the material of the sleeves as far as it could go to turn winter-wear into a straightjacket.
While putting this together, Casey had thought, 'it's okay now; I can think about him and it's not a big deal.' He'd been able to put together old high school memories together without any pangs of regret, sadness or even just bittersweet longing for 'the good old days'. He was fine with it.
“Mmhmm. Sure you are.”
Delilah now arrived, clutching a fancy glass full of strawberry daiquiri between her fingers. “SO glad you have what, four pictures of me without makeup?” she told Casey with the sweetest of sarcasm.
“It's only cos' you'd sweat it off during the snowball fight. You've got a good arm,” Stan told her.
“Has Stokes seen it?” Delilah asked.
“Dunno where that girl o' mine is. Stokes?”
As Stan called for his girlfriend, Delilah sniffed, shook her head and looked to Casey. “Isn't it sickening, these two? It's been what, three years now and he STILL hasn't asked for that chick's hand?” she said.
“Hah, yea well--” Casey went to answer, but was cut off when he felt an arm slide over his shoulders. He turned and found Billy there, smiling wide. “Hey.”
“Hey, babe. Where've you been? 'Been lookin' for ya.” Billy gave a peck to Casey's cheek; he stayed close to continue, “I was getting a bit lonely.”
Casey tried breathing easier as if moved closer to the young man. “Sorry. Got... caught up,” he replied, hoping to end all questions in giving Billy a kiss as well, this time to the lips.
“Speaking of sickening...” Delilah said, but winked, grinned and moved on to entertain her many guests.
“C'mon, you need a drink,” Billy said with a nod to Casey's empty hand.
“You're drunk...”
“No, actually, I ain't.”
“Lay off, okay? It's been years--”
Casey trembled in the here and now as he was led into the kitchen. With the coolers freshly restocked in the mudroom, Billy went over and plucked two Samuel Adams for them. “Your friends are pretty cool,” he said.
“Yea. I've missed 'em,” Casey said, looking around. “Though most of these people, I dunno.”
“Good. It means I'm not as outta-my-depth as I think,” Billy replied.
“Oh, stop. I've talked about you enough to 'em that you may as well have gone to high school with us,” Casey said. He cracked his beer open and leaned back on Delilah's dryer. “Del made sure you had yourself a Chrimbo-card, am I right?”
“Yea, damned right... is she always that generous with gift cards? I wasn't expecting twenty bucks for Starbucks.”
Casey chuckled; he felt a little less nervous now, relaxing against his lover. “She's pure socialite, takes care of 'her people'. So... you're just one of her people.”
“Well, glad I've been accepted into the club.” The look on Billy's face was the lead-up to a heavy makeout session, but it didn't happen; not when another person arrived, moving slowly over to the coolers.
“'Scuse me,” Zeke said in an airy voice as he opened one and drew out an 'Adams as well. Casey went stiff, his swallow hard as the young man stood, cracked the bottle open and looked to him with a smile. “So. How goes it?”
That was a slappable offense, if there ever was one. “Not much. How're you?” Casey replied casually.
“Eh, the usual. Who's this?”
Casey looked to where Zeke nodded and sniffed. 'Yea, as if you don't fuckin' know...' “Billy. He's from my school in San Fran,” Casey said. Looking to Billy, Casey cleared his throat. “Billy, Zeke.”
There was a tiny pause, ending with Billy's wide grin. “Ah. Hi.” He put his hand out, which Zeke took cordially.
“A pleasure.” Zeke smiled back then looked to Casey. “He's the one Stokes told me about-about a thousand times.”
There were reasons for that. The girl knew who was coming to this party, and what Zeke was capable of. Casey doubted Zeke's wanting him back-he simply enjoyed 'the game'. He'd proven that, mere minutes before. Upstairs.
“Cut it out!”
“Why should I?”
“Get OVER it, three-Zeke. Z-Zeke, p-please, don't...”
“Yea, that's him,” Casey said. He shot a piercing warning glare at the boy, who didn't flinch in the slightest.
“Cool, a face to the name. So are you an artist, too?” Zeke asked. As he took a hearty slug from his beer, Billy nodded.
“Yup. Graphic arts,” Billy said.
“Computer stuff, nice. That's what's hot nowadays.”
Slappable, yet again. He hadn't needed to glance at Casey in between 'what's' and 'hot' as he had, had he? Casey did his best to keep from snarling as Billy asked Zeke, “You go to school too?”
“Eh, two-year tech. 'Got an associate's in HVAC.”
“What's that?”
Zeke's smile widened. “Heating, ventilation and air-conditioning. You can thank me for the cozy warmth in this place; Del's furnace died a grisly death a few days ago and called me in a frozen panic,” he said.
“Hah, I'll bet! I ain't used to it being so cold out in Cali. You Ohio-ians get it rough in winter,” Billy replied.
“Bet ya bilked her out,” Casey said, though he regretted making a dig-however innocent-when he saw Zeke turn his small but red-hot smile his way.
“Just parts. She repaid me in other ways.”
THAT wasn't expected, even to Billy, who frowned. “Repaid? I thought...” he drifted off.
“Thought what?” Zeke asked.
“Well... you and Casey, you'd... dated, right?”
“Ah. It's her employee discount at Filene's, not blowjobs.” Zeke lifted a foot to show off the shiny, obviously-expensive leather work boot he wore. “Sweet deal. Steel-toed and everything.”
Billy went red in the face. “S... Sorry, dude.”
“S'okay.”
“Go on, Casey-boy. Say you don't like that.”
“I DON'T!”
“Liar, liar, pants on fire... literally, fuck, you're warm down there...”
“Hey, Zeke! C'mere, you gotta look at this!” Stan now yelled from the other side of the kitchen, waving the album over his head. Casey thanked Christ for the distraction as Zeke smiled and nodded to them.
“Catcha later,” he said.
Casey watched him saunter off, melding with the small crowd in the kitchen. Billy let out a puff of breath. “Wow. I REALLY stepped in it there,” he said.
“It's not easy to offend him. Don't... sweat it,” Casey told him before taking three-quarters of his brew down in record time.
“Yea, well... I see why you went for him.” Billy's smile returned as he leaned in close to murmur, “He is fucking hot.”
Tears almost sprang up in Casey's eyes. He didn't know how he'd chuckled and said, “Yea, I guess,” past the coals burning in his chest and throat, but he managed it.
“You think of me, every time.”
“E-Every time w-what??”
“Every time he goes down on you, fucks you-every time.”
God, it was true.
“Why'd we end it, babe?”
“You wanna go outside?”
Casey, lost in thought, turned slowly to Billy. “Huh?”
“I asked if you wanted to go outside. I need a smoke,” Billy said.
“Yea. Yea, me too,” Casey said; Billy blinked fast and chortled.
“Huh? You don't smoke, silly.”
'I do n-now.' Even Casey's thoughts stammered as he went out the back with Billy. Once on the porch with the other smokers, all of them talking, laughing and listening to the music on the radio on the windowsill, Billy lit a smoke for both of them and shook his head at Casey's choking down the first drag. Casey had always liked Zeke's brand better.