fifthcurriculum | INTRO LOG

[He shoots another glare at Petre, but only because he's right. He should've let them go a long time ago, and usually pretends he does. Having this forced out of him is galling to say the least.

And if it were anyone else, he might not turn down that offer. Lugging the suitcase around didn't do wonders for his shoulder muscles either, one side of which he's now kneading with a scowl.]

Yeah. I know.

I'm not forgetting, though. Not until I can find them again and finish what I started.

[His eyes dart toward the bathroom door. Maybe a shower'll relax him, since the doors lock, thank god...]

[that sounds ominous, so - obviously it interests Petre.]

I'm surprised they didn't stick you in therapy for that. Or do they just wan you to use your rage.

I don't just walk around saying it.

[But he did. Which means it'll probably get around like - so to speak - wildfire now.]

I'm going for a shower. [He swings his legs around, gets up off the bed with one last stretch.] Do me a favour and be asleep when I come out.

Our headmaster's the world's most powerful psychic. It's not like you have to.

[just saying. And then he perks up at the mention of a shower.]

Let me know if you need help. I get incredibly bored when I'm alone.

Then I guess he actually realizes it'll be no loss to the world too.

[Oh god, the look he gives Petre at that. It does give him an idea, though - he's got a power here that he's not using, doesn't he? Sure, it kind of creeps him out, but if he gets over that - it could be hilarious.

When he comes out of his shower, it's bare-chested with his hair hanging loose and damp over his forehead, a towel wrapped around his waist.

He's got his boxers on underneath, but does Petre need to know that?]

So much better. [He stands at the foot of Petre's bed and stretches more deliberately this time, turning one way and then the other, subtly watching for a reaction.]

[A pause, as he glances at John and then scans him until his eyes are back on his features.

He hopes John knows he's smarter than that.]

Aw. Still no chest hair. No, wait - [He shifts, takes a closer look, hand hovering over John's body.] I think I see one. Two? Maybe even three. I need my glasses for this.

[This time, when he grabs Petre's hand and moves it away, it's an easier motion. Slow and deliberate, like with a child reaching for the cookie jar.]

Look as close as you want. It's all you're ever gonna get. Just call this taking pity.

[His hands play around the top of the towel, where it's tucked in, but don't remove it yet.]

And don't pretend you don't like it.

[He tongues his cheek, bites his lower lip with the beginning of a laugh.]

Who's pretending?

[Not him. He leans back on the bed with both hands, shoulders inched up, legs crossed. His eyes glance at John's wandering hand, just briefly enough to be seen doing it.]

Fire boy thinks he's untouchable. A bit cliché, don't you think.

Edited 2014-09-13 14:14 (UTC)

What, just 'cause you can't touch me?

[He leans over the bed a little and actually touches Petre, just this one, sliding a finger down his cheek to his chin. Taking the bullet for the full performance.]

You're just shit out of luck, that's all.

[He laughs, now.]

What are you trying to do? Takes more than your twink body and a finger to get me hard, you know.

[Not that he's opposed to the thought.]

I'm sure your sick, twisted imagination can come up with the rest. Just wanted to inspire you, that's all. Give you more material for whatever weird shit you keep deluding yourself is gonna happen between us.

[He laughs himself, before straightening up and heading toward his dresser. It's true, he's more relaxed - and enjoying this, much as Petre isn't giving a whole lot in return - and that means sweats and crashing out. Fuck, it's been A Day.

He's bent over to get to one of the lower drawers when he finally loosens his towel, slowly lets it drop. Oh well. His ass is still a pretty good view in his boxers.]

Awfully generous of you. [He tilts his head for a better look. He can still appreciate your twink body, John, don't even worry about it.] What changed your mind?

I haven't changed my mind about anything. [Let's just make that perfectly clear.] Just finally figured out how funny it all is.

[Stepping into his sweatpants, pulling on a t-shirt. He rakes his hair off his forehead, a near-constant habit when it's not slicked back and one that does nothing to keep it off his forehead, then falls back onto his bed with his arms out.]

Show really is over now, though.

Oh, good. You could use a laugh here and there. Get that stick out of your ass, it'll hurt less.

[Then he watches him flop down.]

I'll always take whatever I can get.

[And whatever he can get away with.]

Are you going to sleep now?

You've got a comprehension problem, Petre. The only thing wrong with me right now is you. Everything else is fucking great, you just never see it because - surprise - you're the issue.

[He considers the question, then decides to get back up and crawl under the covers this time.]

I don't sleep much. Consider this a blanket "don't give a shit" if I wake you up.

[Bad dreams and three years constantly on his guard, sleeping on everything but beds. He's just hoping the bad dreams don't hit too hard, because Petre doesn't need to see him wake up screaming.]

[He wouldn't mind seeing John scream. You know. While they bone.]

See, that's just it. I'm only the issue with you. Nobody else thinks I'm a problem.

[That's a lot of denial or a lot of bullshit. He picks at his nails, sees how they look.]

That's why the stuck us together.

Because you fuck with their heads. Whatever the hell you do. I dunno why I get the free pass to know what a dipshit you actually are, but look at how well you make friends when you're not making them believe whatever you want.

[He's turned to face Petre again, fully engaged in the argument he just gave up a few minutes ago. Goddamnit.]

[And Petre relaxes his eyes, suddenly turning defiant again. This is a challenge, as far as he's concerned, and he rarely backs down. In his own way.]

Don't kid yourself, John. I can make you believe whatever I want, too.

[And does he really need to point it out to him?]

Call me crazy, but I don't see the endgame in nagging someone to be friends all the time while you're giving them false suggestions about what a dick you are at the same time. So my guess is that you haven't yet.

[Challenge accepted.]

[To which there's a pause, and there's a smile.]

I have to get my kicks somewhere.

Nah. [He shakes his head against his pillow.] I still don't buy it. Nice try, but I don't buy it.

[What he's not saying is that he's fairly certain Petre's attraction to him is real, so if he were using his manipulation that freely, they'd probably be fucking every night. Fairly certain isn't certain enough, but it'll have to do for now. He's not letting himself be gaslighted by this asshole.]

[And Petre is so very tempted to prove him right, to make him get back on his feet and slip out of his clothes again, this time without the safe cover of a towel or his underwear. He's tempted to make John humiliate himself because it'd be a good laugh, but Petre can think ahead of his immediate desires, too. He can remember that that would be more trouble than it's worth.]

Sometimes the hard way's the funnest. That's all I'm saying.

You're saying anything to screw with me. Like you always do. But gosh, why can't we just be friends?

[He actually considers Petre for a second. Considers the truth, and then decides on it.]

We could own this school if you didn't have such a compulsive need to fuck with everyone, including me.

That's just my problem, John. I don't share.

[Greedy, greedy, greedy.]

There you go. Don't ask me about it anymore, then, you've got lots of answers. Every time you wanna whine about how I won't be your friend, just throw a rock and you'll hit one.

[He closes his eyes. Nowhere near ready to sleep now, but totally ready to feign it.]

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