Sophinisba Solis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sophinisba) wrote2008-06-07 02:21 pm
sophinisba) wrote2008-06-07 02:21 pm
Homecoming part 7
Title: Homecoming (7/8)
Fandom: The Faculty
Pairing: Casey/Zeke
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1150
Summary: Casey and Zeke go back to Herrington for their five year high school reunion.
Notes: I am very sorry for taking so long to write this fic. It really has been almost finished for months and months, and today I finally make myself sit down and do it. Even though I haven't been answering all comments lately I promise to answer comments on the fic. Thank you for your patience and encouragement, especially to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
layne67, who also gave me the story idea and title.
Previous parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six.
Zeke stumbles back through the empty classroom to the empty hallway, clumsy with adrenalin and terror. All he wants to do is scream Casey's name, but he knows he should be stealthier than that, he should at least to pretend to be calm.
He feels his pockets again – only one pen left, but he'd forgotten he's also got his cell phone. Too bad he'll sound like a maniac if he tries to talk. Too bad he doesn't have time to text with his shaking fingers.
"That was quick," says Casey on the other end.
Too quick. He didn't give himself time to figure out what to say before he called. He isn't even sure what he wants. "Casey."
"Are you ready to go home? The Rosados are leaving already too."
"Don't go with them," Zeke says without thinking.
"Well, obviously." He sounds tired, still annoyed if not angry. "Are you gonna come back and say goodbye?"
Zeke shakes his head, then remembers he needs to talk. "Can't."
"Okay. Where are you? I'll come meet you."
It can't be around other people. Who knows if they're even people anymore? It can't be out here in the open. It can't be in the fucking science rooms with the rotting alien corpse. "The locker room," he says.
"Are you serious? You really do have your heart set on this romantic revisiting bullshit, don't y –"
"Casey. Don't let anybody follow you. Be careful, okay?"
"Are you okay, Zeke?"
"No."
"Do you –"
"Just come and meet me, okay? And watch the people around you. And keep the pen handy, yeah?"
There's a pause, then, "Yeah, whatever you say. I'll see you in five minutes," and the call cuts off. Meaning Casey's decided Zeke's too crazy to try to argue with. Fine, he can worry about that later. He runs toward the far end of the building.
The locker room looks just about the same too, but it's the sweat smell that hits him, makes him want to throw up. It's worse than anything he's seen tonight. But Zeke has to keep it together. He doesn't know what's coming. Sure, he'd like to think it's just Casey, and they can slip out through the door by the gym, straight into the parking lot. And no one will notice, no one will follow them. That would be nice.
When he hears footsteps he stands up straight, concentrates on not making any noise.
"Zeke, are you there?"
He sounds nervous, and soon enough he'll be angry. But Zeke can't take any chances. He'd like to think it's just Casey, but he needs to know for sure.
He tackles him coming around a corner, shoves him against the bank of lockers he's hidden behind, and kisses so he won't hit or yell. Kisses Casey's jaw, his neck, and presses against him with his hands and the rest of his body.
Casey laughs, doesn't try to push him away. "Not now," he says. "I'm tired, there's a lock digging into my back, and this place smells like a beating." But when Zeke kisses him on the lips he kisses back. Casey's his. Zeke takes a few more seconds to enjoy it, to pretend this is just a normal incidence of making out in an inappropriate place.
But he can't quite stand to look in his eyes, and the whole time he's pressing against Casey's hips, feeling Casey just starting to get hard, he's also paying attention to what's in his pockets – one left, for each of them. He grabs for it, and at the same time he grabs Casey's arm and twists it around behind him.
"What the fuck, Zeke?!"
Casey yells and struggles to get free. Zeke keeps his voice low, his hold tight. He just wants to get things under control. "The aliens. They're back."
"No they're fucking not!"
"I got Marybeth, but Furlong's still out there somewhere. And there could be – she said – Casey, I need you to take a hit."
Casey stops fighting his hold then, and his voice is still and angry and cold when he says, "Zeke, stop it."
"I'm not asking, Casey."
Casey shakes his head. "One of us needs to stay sane and it's obviously too late for you. Listen, we're not in high school anymore, okay? We're not under attack. You just need to calm down and –"
"Take it in the eye if you want to make things difficult." Zeke holds the thing like a knife, inches away from Casey's face, ready to stab him if need be. Anything to know that it's really him, that he hasn't lost his Casey forever.
"Fine, you asshole. I'm taking it, see?"
Zeke watches carefully this time. None of that fake sniffing he let Marybeth get away with. (And that was where he could have stopped it before, if he'd just paid more attention.) When Casey hands the empty pen back to him he's trembling a little and it reminds Zeke of how he looks when he wakes up from the night terrors.
"You okay?" And it makes him want to help, the way he usually can when Casey's scared, just by being there for him, but right now Casey's scared of Zeke more than anything else.
"No, I'm not okay, I'm just –"
"I'd take one too, to show you, but I've only got one left, and Furlong –"
"I understand," Casey says quickly. "I don't need you to. I think we should just go. Get back to your place and get some time to think, okay?"
"You mean time for me to calm down."
"Well, yeah."
"I don't need –"
"You're not in any condition to fight." Casey turns to leave and trips over the bench. Zeke tries to catch him from falling, but Casey twists out of his hands and hits the floor hard. He yells and clutches his knee.
"Casey, come 'ere."
Zeke wants to help him stand up, or carry him if he has to. Mostly he just wants to touch him, but Casey kicks him away and screams, "Don't you touch me!" He keeps yelling, louder and louder, and thrashing so hard Zeke's afraid he'll hurt himself worse. He could hit his head on the bench or the lockers or the floor. He could –
"Casey, stop, calm down." Casey's still fighting but Zeke won't back off this time, gets a hold on him again and keeps talking, "It's okay, you're right, we should go home," and even, "I'm sorry," but Casey's screaming so loud he probably doesn't hear a word.
And Zeke doesn't hear anything else either. No footsteps, none of the other yelling, until there are other hands on him, pulling them apart, and when he grabs for Casey again a fist comes at his face and he can't see anything at all, and all he can hear is alarm bells inside his head.
next part | series tag | fic index
Fandom: The Faculty
Pairing: Casey/Zeke
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1150
Summary: Casey and Zeke go back to Herrington for their five year high school reunion.
Notes: I am very sorry for taking so long to write this fic. It really has been almost finished for months and months, and today I finally make myself sit down and do it. Even though I haven't been answering all comments lately I promise to answer comments on the fic. Thank you for your patience and encouragement, especially to
layne67, who also gave me the story idea and title.Previous parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six.
Zeke stumbles back through the empty classroom to the empty hallway, clumsy with adrenalin and terror. All he wants to do is scream Casey's name, but he knows he should be stealthier than that, he should at least to pretend to be calm.
He feels his pockets again – only one pen left, but he'd forgotten he's also got his cell phone. Too bad he'll sound like a maniac if he tries to talk. Too bad he doesn't have time to text with his shaking fingers.
"That was quick," says Casey on the other end.
Too quick. He didn't give himself time to figure out what to say before he called. He isn't even sure what he wants. "Casey."
"Are you ready to go home? The Rosados are leaving already too."
"Don't go with them," Zeke says without thinking.
"Well, obviously." He sounds tired, still annoyed if not angry. "Are you gonna come back and say goodbye?"
Zeke shakes his head, then remembers he needs to talk. "Can't."
"Okay. Where are you? I'll come meet you."
It can't be around other people. Who knows if they're even people anymore? It can't be out here in the open. It can't be in the fucking science rooms with the rotting alien corpse. "The locker room," he says.
"Are you serious? You really do have your heart set on this romantic revisiting bullshit, don't y –"
"Casey. Don't let anybody follow you. Be careful, okay?"
"Are you okay, Zeke?"
"No."
"Do you –"
"Just come and meet me, okay? And watch the people around you. And keep the pen handy, yeah?"
There's a pause, then, "Yeah, whatever you say. I'll see you in five minutes," and the call cuts off. Meaning Casey's decided Zeke's too crazy to try to argue with. Fine, he can worry about that later. He runs toward the far end of the building.
The locker room looks just about the same too, but it's the sweat smell that hits him, makes him want to throw up. It's worse than anything he's seen tonight. But Zeke has to keep it together. He doesn't know what's coming. Sure, he'd like to think it's just Casey, and they can slip out through the door by the gym, straight into the parking lot. And no one will notice, no one will follow them. That would be nice.
When he hears footsteps he stands up straight, concentrates on not making any noise.
"Zeke, are you there?"
He sounds nervous, and soon enough he'll be angry. But Zeke can't take any chances. He'd like to think it's just Casey, but he needs to know for sure.
He tackles him coming around a corner, shoves him against the bank of lockers he's hidden behind, and kisses so he won't hit or yell. Kisses Casey's jaw, his neck, and presses against him with his hands and the rest of his body.
Casey laughs, doesn't try to push him away. "Not now," he says. "I'm tired, there's a lock digging into my back, and this place smells like a beating." But when Zeke kisses him on the lips he kisses back. Casey's his. Zeke takes a few more seconds to enjoy it, to pretend this is just a normal incidence of making out in an inappropriate place.
But he can't quite stand to look in his eyes, and the whole time he's pressing against Casey's hips, feeling Casey just starting to get hard, he's also paying attention to what's in his pockets – one left, for each of them. He grabs for it, and at the same time he grabs Casey's arm and twists it around behind him.
"What the fuck, Zeke?!"
Casey yells and struggles to get free. Zeke keeps his voice low, his hold tight. He just wants to get things under control. "The aliens. They're back."
"No they're fucking not!"
"I got Marybeth, but Furlong's still out there somewhere. And there could be – she said – Casey, I need you to take a hit."
Casey stops fighting his hold then, and his voice is still and angry and cold when he says, "Zeke, stop it."
"I'm not asking, Casey."
Casey shakes his head. "One of us needs to stay sane and it's obviously too late for you. Listen, we're not in high school anymore, okay? We're not under attack. You just need to calm down and –"
"Take it in the eye if you want to make things difficult." Zeke holds the thing like a knife, inches away from Casey's face, ready to stab him if need be. Anything to know that it's really him, that he hasn't lost his Casey forever.
"Fine, you asshole. I'm taking it, see?"
Zeke watches carefully this time. None of that fake sniffing he let Marybeth get away with. (And that was where he could have stopped it before, if he'd just paid more attention.) When Casey hands the empty pen back to him he's trembling a little and it reminds Zeke of how he looks when he wakes up from the night terrors.
"You okay?" And it makes him want to help, the way he usually can when Casey's scared, just by being there for him, but right now Casey's scared of Zeke more than anything else.
"No, I'm not okay, I'm just –"
"I'd take one too, to show you, but I've only got one left, and Furlong –"
"I understand," Casey says quickly. "I don't need you to. I think we should just go. Get back to your place and get some time to think, okay?"
"You mean time for me to calm down."
"Well, yeah."
"I don't need –"
"You're not in any condition to fight." Casey turns to leave and trips over the bench. Zeke tries to catch him from falling, but Casey twists out of his hands and hits the floor hard. He yells and clutches his knee.
"Casey, come 'ere."
Zeke wants to help him stand up, or carry him if he has to. Mostly he just wants to touch him, but Casey kicks him away and screams, "Don't you touch me!" He keeps yelling, louder and louder, and thrashing so hard Zeke's afraid he'll hurt himself worse. He could hit his head on the bench or the lockers or the floor. He could –
"Casey, stop, calm down." Casey's still fighting but Zeke won't back off this time, gets a hold on him again and keeps talking, "It's okay, you're right, we should go home," and even, "I'm sorry," but Casey's screaming so loud he probably doesn't hear a word.
And Zeke doesn't hear anything else either. No footsteps, none of the other yelling, until there are other hands on him, pulling them apart, and when he grabs for Casey again a fist comes at his face and he can't see anything at all, and all he can hear is alarm bells inside his head.
next part | series tag | fic index