Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2007-01-23 09:53 pm
sophinisba) wrote2007-01-23 09:53 pm
Lasting Effects 8
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layne67's comment on my previous post just reminded me that this exists. It's the next chapter of Lasting Effects, the Faculty fic I was posting last January. I have not managed to add anything new to the story since then but I've always meant to post what I had, in a WIP-Amnesty-type way, so here is the part that really had me tripped up as far as being afraid to post it, even though I suppose I've done worse things since then. Hard R/NC-17, mention of rape. Also I haven't looked at it in a few months and don't really want to look at it again so um. Anyway, here you go.8.
It wasn't rape, Casey used to tell himself, staring out the car window as Zeke silently drove him home. Still told himself, afterwards, when he thought back on those times. After the aliens, when the shrink tried to bring it up, Casey had freaked out, walked away. But after what happened to Zeke, and after Zeke was whisked away to Baltimore for an unspecified amount of time, Casey decided he really did need to tell somebody, even if it was only in the broadest outlines, so he could start to work it out in his own mind. He went to Stokely's place after school, and made sure Stan wasn't around.
It wasn't rape, like she said when she first heard it, wasn't even "taking advantage," as the shrink had guessed. It was fucked up enough he'd probably never try telling another soul, and he hated not being able to make Stokes understand, because usually she understood him, better than other people at school, anyway. But really, he could have said no at any time. And he believed Zeke would have listened to him. He did.
"Not since before the aliens, right?" said Stokes
"Yeah. Things were different after."
"Sure, you were the hero that got the girl."
"Yeah. I guess."
"I didn't, um. I didn't ever suspect anything, before. At school you two always seemed like you were mad at each other for something."
"Yeah," Casey said, laughing a little. "We acted like that when we were alone too."
"And I never really understood, because I didn't think he was one of the ones who was beating you up or even saying much to you. Not that he was Mr. Morality or anything, but it didn't seem like his kind of thing."
"So you were paying attention to me in those days?"
"Yeah," she said, sounding a little abashed. "Casey, I was always paying attention. There just wasn't much I could do then."
"It's okay," he said quickly, "I didn't mean to... So yeah, that started in tenth grade, in the fall. We didn't really do anything at school. But he'd meet me at the Texaco station and drive me over to his place."
"And you went because you wanted to?"
"Of course I did. Stokes, you don't get to be protective of me now. I'm all grown up and I've got friends and I've saved the world at least once. And yeah, okay, so I was kind of a mess back then, but it's not like I didn't know what I was doing. It was just easier not to say it out loud, you know? I mean, we're guys." He hated the way she raised her eyebrows at that, and it made him lose his confidence in his speech a little, but he did keep going. "No, seriously, we're not like you. We don't say, 'Yes, I want you to make love to me now.' That doesn't mean it's not" -- his voice dropped to barely audible on the word "consensual," and Stokes looked somehow exasperated, miserable, and, yes, protective of him at once.
"We girls don't usually say it quite like that either," she said.
It's true they didn't usually speak during it, or before or after. There were sometimes little commands, but seldom anything more complicated than "get down" or "turn over," and even for that kind of thing, Zeke was more likely to just push, and Casey would go.
There was that one time though, Casey remembered, knowing he would never tell this to Stokely. That one time Zeke was kneeling behind him, Casey bent over and leaning forward on his elbows, one side of his face in the carpet. Zeke had taken a little longer than usual with the prep this time, with the fingers and the lube. But by now he was going at it hard and deep, and it hurt differently than it had before. Not the sharp pain of the breach (and there were times when Zeke would fuck him with no prep whatsoever, and that probably hurt more, but different) but this deeper, lasting, bruising pain was enough to bring tears to Casey's eyes. He had no words and he was trying to take it quietly, but he couldn't help letting out a grunt, at which Zeke, still buried deep inside him, stopped still.
"What's that?" Zeke said quietly. "You want me to stop?"
"No," Casey almost shouted. And it was good, because it was permission to let the pain out, even though it meant he was now begging to be fucked, which had never quite happened before.
Zeke thrust once and then stilled again. "No? You don't want any more?"
"I..."
"What do you want, Casey?"
"Please, Zeke. More, please..." And he was actually sobbing now, between the pain and the humiliation and the frustration as he waited for Zeke to resume, which he did then. And one of Zeke's hands went from Casey's hip to his cheek to wipe at the tears and then taste them. And then down to Casey's cock to start pumping in rhythm with his own thrusts, so that Casey came only a few seconds after Zeke, and they both collapsed on the carpet, and Zeke licked the tears from Casey's face.
That was all the asking Zeke ever did, but most of the time Casey figured that was just as well. He wanted this, wanted it all, but he didn't want to have to ask for it out loud. Zeke knew what he wanted and gave it to him, saving them both the embarrassment of talking about it, except for that one time.
Zeke could have taken advantage, if he'd wanted to. He had enough knowledge of chemistry that GHB would have been no trouble. And Casey probably would have taken it if Zeke had told him to.
But that hit of scat in Zeke's garage, in front of all the others, that really was the first time Zeke got Casey high. And he never heard of Zeke selling date rape drugs to other guys either.
Casey had known it happened in their school. And Stokes, without going into any detail herself, told him it happened to her the summer before ninth grade, a guy who was three years older than them and had since graduated and gone off to Kent State. Casey wondered who the rapist's supplier had been, since Zeke's was the only name either of them knew of to go with illicit drugs and Herrington High.
Their confessions didn't come with tears or hugs. Just plain words, eyes looking any direction other than at each other. Casey said, "Not Zeke. He wouldn't. Wouldn't have."
Stokes shrugged, and said, "Don't tell him, okay? When he comes back. And don't tell Stan. I mean, nobody knows, just my sister." She twisted her hands in her lap. "It's not that big a deal, I'm okay now and I barely even remember it, but don't..."
"Yeah," said Casey. "You don't need to, I mean... Yeah, nobody knows about me and Zeke either, what happened before." And he felt bad for comparing what he and Zeke chose to do with what Stokes only half-knew had been forced on her, but she nodded.
"I won't."
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Oh boy, I didn't quite expect that. I thought it was just a simple crush on Casey's part. Now things are a lot more clearer. Their relationship, what Casey felt after Zeke's injury. This is one seriously great story, Sophi, and I really really hope that you'll continue with this.
And I'll still get that one-year-later-drabble? :DDDD
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