LOCATIONS

[farrowday]

(placeholder-- will have toplevels for common locations, players welcome to add their own for private spots like dorms)

Comments

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[That's - not one of the million variables he accounted for. Ignoring it?]

Are you fucking kidding me?

[broil]

[he arches his brows, still smiling. No idea what John means, but always playing along.]

I hope so. I don't think I can live with myself knowing I snore. That's so not sexy.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[No. No no no no no. Even if Petre wanted to deny all of the things he said, he'd never let something like the kisses they shared go unspoken. There would be some kind of spin, some way to acknowledge what he wanted to keep and discard the rest. Hell, if it was a new game like John suspects it was, Petre's victory was utterly complete. No reason to deny any of it.

He was that drunk. He doesn't even remember.

John will never fucking know.

He throws his blanket down on the bed rather than spreading it again, tosses his pillow into the corner with just as much vehemence. Eventually he'll need to come up with something Petre did to piss him off this much, but it's a laundry list of possibilities, isn't it? That'll come much easier than trying to tell him the truth.]

Look. I got no sleep last night. The kid with the remote eyes was up again. There's a whole lot I don't wanna do today, and dealing with you is at the top of my list. Just go about whatever or whoever you're fucking with today.

[He's seething. Not because he was lied to, not because it was real, but because he'll never have any damn idea. Petre wouldn't know if asked. This accidental victory is Petre's biggest yet.]

[broil]

[oh, if only he knew. His grin would be wider yet, he'd be laughing and pressing on until John socked him in the eye or burned something again. Yes, it'd feel like a victory, and even the parts where he submitted to John would be entirely ignored in favor of proclaiming he'd finally gotten what he wanted.

Alas, he has no idea.]

Well, no one forced you to leave the room. Unless I did. But why would I do that? I'm sure drunk-me loves your company too, Johnny.

[he snaps his fingers and points back at him.]

Oh, right - I met this guy at the bar. Jon with no 'h'.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[He rolls his eyes at the first statement, but the second gives him pause. How much does he let on? If he gives Petre some of the story, the rest might come back to him, and in his current mood it's quite plain how much of what happened was down to alcohol. There's nothing at all of the vulnerability he showed the night before, the willingness to be open.

It's a relief and a frustration. He'd have no idea how to deal with that Petre, if he's honest with himself. But his eyes dance over Petre's hands, his mouth, feeling all those light but intense points of contact, and he still feels a loss.]

Not exactly a rare name, man. Throw a rock down a crowded street and you're gonna hit like five Johns.

[broil]

Sure, but I still thought it was funny. The guy was rock hard when he asked me about my eye and I told him I was seventeen. Ran off. Cold feet, can you believe it? In the bathroom.

[He widens his eyes, rolls them and shakes his head. Men these days.

And yes, he still thinks John totally wants to hear these stories. Either that or he just loves the sound of his own voice.]

Your punch cost me a lay, Johnny. You're gonna have to pay for that.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[Echoes of last night's speech run through his head, the strange rant about how horrible it would've been to be capable of feeling anything for him, and John just falls onto his bed. He kicks the balled-up blanket aside and tucks the pillow under his head, eyes closed. Images layering over images in his head, the metaphor of negatives again, every different Petre visible under the other but none of them clear.]

You're the one who was stupid enough to be honest. But whatever, more extra homework I won't do, really fucking scared.

[broil]

[He's smiling. If that was a jab, he didn't even feel it.]

Sure. Alcohol makes you stupid, anyway, right? But whatever. Guess I missed you and came on back home.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Does it ever.

[And he can't use it. Anything he tries to pull out against Petre will lead right back to him. Every single event and word of that night is entwined.]

Breaking curfew to do it, in case you forgot. Do anything to get me in detention and we're gonna be right back in there together again.

[broil]

Wow, touchy. [he lifts both hands. You got him.] What did I do to piss you off this time, anyway?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

D'you ever have to do anything? [Rubbing at his temples. His head is pounding from the strain of keeping this up and the lack of sleep. He hasn't even gotten a coffee yet, since he was trying to sneak in before Petre woke up.] It's how we work. You tried to make a move against me, I had a counter-move. You're the one who likes it that way.

[broil]

Against you or on you?

[he crosses his arms, curls the corners of his lips, almost knowingly. Only in the sense that he knows himself well enough to guess he did try something. Two boys alone in a bedroom, one of them completely drunk and prone to being more physical than the other will ever be comfortable with. Of course something happened.]

But then my face doesn't hurt, so I didn't even do anything that'd earn me another punch. The mystery's killing me.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[Shit. If he gets too curious, he could pull the truth right out of John. He won't meet his physical desires that way, but he'll still use it for little details like that.

Okay. Spin it. Slowly, wearily, he opens his eyes, one arm thrown over his forehead now.]

Yeah. Of course you made a move on me. And of course I left. That shit's so standard by now that I don't see why I have to tell you.

[broil]

[Predictably enough, there's laughter. He walks back over to his bed, but - he doesn't want to sit down. He feels like he's slept for the past ten days.]

It is, isn't it.

[He picks up his pillow, lets it drop on the other side, then hops on the mattress and scoots back until he's against the wall, legs crossed by the ankles.]

Man, I was drunk. Was I sloppy? Don't tell me. I have a reputation to keep.

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[And as is his way, John just rolls his eyes over to look at Petre instead of his whole head.]

How would I know if you were smooth? I'm not interested. Nothing would work. [He feels like he has thumbtacks on the roof of his mouth, the lie takes such effort now.]

[broil]

Don't be ridiculous, John. You can still know.

[Or was he just so blindly afraid he wouldn't take it either way? Heterosexual men these days.]

You know what they say about guys like you?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

Oh god, I'm dying to know.

[He doubts "they" hold any opinions he gives any kind of shit about, but let him prattle on. He's off the scent, anyway.]

[broil]

That you're afraid of guys like me. Because I treat you the same way you treat women.

[pause. Then a laugh.]

[ex_outofcontrol435]

One problem with that. [Finger up in the air to punctuate his point.] I'd never work as hard as you do on me for any chick.

[broil]

And if that's not a sign of true love, I don't know what is.

[... that's laughable, too. Or it would be if there wasn't a mess of emotion - is it emotion? - somewhere whenever John's involved. Petre doesn't fucking know, but he doesn't let himself think about it, either. What's there to think about? He's decided long ago it was just a game.]

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[It's clear from the sound of it that he's fighting the laughter that bubbles up, but he just can't help it. I need you. I've never needed anyone. He hears it again and again, cycling through his head, and his laughter becomes closer to hysterical.

True love. Jesus. This is almost fucked enough that he could believe it. And he has no idea what's true and what isn't, so it's not even a joke anymore, but he keeps on laughing.]

[broil]

[Petre only thinks he knows why John's laughing. Hell, he can even laugh along with it, as quiet as he is on the other side of the room.

Just a joke. It's all a joke.]

Anyway. I fucking stink. You don't mind if I call dibs on the shower for the next three hours, do you?

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[He takes a deep breath, stills the laughter before it goes over the edge into - screaming, he doesn't even know. Some release of all this new, awful tension.]

Oh good, I can get in some sleep. Make it four.

[broil]

[John's not even done talking before he's already stripping off his jacket, slipping it off his wrists before he brings a hand up to mess up his otherwise impeccable head. At least he thought it was; apparently the guy from last night already did a number on the back. Who cares.

He takes off his watch, then the phone from his pants pocket. Removes his shirt and undoes his trousers.]

[ex_outofcontrol435]

[John has his eyes closed, but as soon as he figures out what's going on, they fly open.]

The bathroom's big enough to get naked in there, y'know.