WARNINGS: Substance abuse, suicide, depression, and homophobic remarks.
AN: For Sam. Also for the Opposite Day Challenge.
I.
Dudley says the words as easily as breathing. Piers almost envies him for being brave enough to be honest.
"I fancy blokes. And you're my best mate, Piers. You deserve to know."
So easy, so casual. Piers wishes he could do it. He wishes he could tell Dudley he's felt the same for so long that it hurts to keep it inside. He wishes he could say he doesn't fancy blokes, just one bloke, just Dudley.
It should be easy. It should flow right off the tip of his tongue and set him free. But it's not; it doesn't.
Though Piers knows who and what he is, he's uncomfortable in his own skin. He's a coward, and he knows exactly what people do to people like him. And so he takes a coward's route, pulling away from Dudley like the distance will make the denial easier.
"Fucking queer," he spits, venom spewing from his words. "Should've known you were a freak, Dudley. You and that fairy cousin of yours!"
Dudley recoils as though Piers has physically struck him. The pain in his eyes is enough to make Piers want to apologize, but he can't. He can't let anyone know, not even his best mate.
"Stay away from me," Piers adds sharply. "It might be catching."
II.
Keeping his distance is easier when the Dursleys move away. Piers no longer has to worry about stealing glances at Dudley and fearing he might be caught.
"Whatever happened to Dudley?" Dennis asks as they pass around a stolen bottle of vodka.
The question hurts. Piers doesn't know, and not knowing kills him. Part of him wonders if his last meeting with Dudley had lead to the family leaving town without a word.
But Piers can't mention it. His group has never been the type to share feelings and hug it out.
He takes a deep drink from the bottle, letting the fire of clear liquid burn away all thoughts of the boy he loves. "Hell if I know. Don't care," he answers, nearly emptying the bottle into his mouth.
III.
"Piers?" Dudley's voice is desperate through the phone. "Piers, I don't know what to do."
Without a word, Piers hangs up the phone.
IV.
"You don't have to talk, man. Just listen? Please?"
Click.
The line goes dead.
V.
"Dudley called while you were out...Seven times," his mother reports when he waltzes into the house. "He was crying the last time. Couldn't make out a thing he said."
Though his mind is blurred from alcohol and some sort of pill Dennis had called "a bucket of laughs", Piers sobers immediately. "I'll call him," he says, practically running to the phone.
VI.
Ring. Ring.
"Come on, Dudley. Answer the bloody phone."
Ring. Ring.
Piers hangs up and dials back for the fifteenth time.
VII.
"Did you hear about ol' Dudley? They say he shot himself."
"I heard his mum found him hanging."
Piers ducks his head, pushing past the gossipers
VIII.
"Why would he do it?" Dennis asks. "I mean, you'd think he'd tell someone, wouldn't you?"
Piers crushes his cigarette between his fingers, letting the pain numb the guilt.
He had tried to tell someone. He'd reached out for Piers seven times that night, even though Piers had been nothing but cruel.
IX.
"I'm sorry," Piers tells the Dursleys.
They're tight-lipped, so Piers moves along quickly, but he catches their whispers.
"I should have known," Mrs. Dursley sobs. "After he told-"
"Quiet, Petunia. Don't taint their memory of him."
X.
Piers sits on the rooftop, looking down at the gravel below. One drop, and he'd make everything okay again. One drop, and he'd be with Dudley.
But Piers is a coward through and through, and he climbs back through the window, prepared to drown himself with booze.