Roommates
If ever Pete Kowalski were to put all of the students who are or once were enrolled in Bullworth in a line and choose from them a college roommate, he would be absolutely certain of one thing. It would not be Gary Smith.
This is the scene that plays out in Petey's mind when he opens the door to his dorm room for the first time, using a fancy little key card that the attractive upperclassman volunteering to help out at registration had given to him along with a cute smile, only to find that Gary freaking Smith is laying spread eagle across the top bunk, humming something tuneless and wiggling his foot to the sound. Yes, he imagines lining up scores of students, including all the prefects whose faces he can remember from his time as Head Boy, and scanning them for prospects. He imagines narrowing it down to Gary Smith and Russell , the large, terrifying leader of Bullworth's bully clique. He would pick Russell. Every time.
Gary is his roommate... again. And has already laid claim to the top bunk. It's like God wanted to see if he could make one boy the single most miserable boy in the cosmos and Petey won the existential raffle.
"What are you doing here?"
It's out of his mouth before he can help it really and, in his defense, it sounded a lot more tactful in his head. Gary makes a big show of propping himself onto his elbows and raising an eyebrow at him. It annoys Petey that Gary gives people a look that says he thinks they're crazy when he's... well, you know. It annoys him further that Gary doesn't even look surprised to see him.
"Uhm...." says Gary, pretending to think. "Colleging."
That isn't a verb, screams Petey's mind, as though that's really his most pressing problem.
"But I... but you... and-" he cuts himself off before Gary can do it. No sense making a fool out of yourself, Petey, you are an adult now. You can handle this maturely. A deep breath and he resumes, "I find it odd that you and I are enrolled in the same college, much less assigned to the same dorm room."
It took a lot of preparation to form that sentence and deliver it without a single stammer. Gary's laughter says he doesn't appreciate the effort.
"You loser, you can't get away!"
He starts laughing harder, burying his face into his pillow which, Petey notices, has yet to be properly encased. If he had the top bunk, all of his pillows would be symmetrically in their shams and perfect. It's a 'youth is wasted on the young' moment but with sleeping arrangements.
Since he hasn't been hit yet, Petey figures that another stab at speaking probably won't kill him. "I am not a loser, and in order for this to be less painful for the both of us, I suggest we never speak to each other in our time here, ever again."
He's on a roll with his assertiveness today.
"You look pathetic," Gary tells him.
Petey supposes that it's true. He is standing in the doorway with a suitcase dragging down his left arm and brandishing a piece of plastic like a murder weapon in the other. But he's also in shock. He's sure Medusa's victims were frozen in a similar state of unpreparedness.
Snake hair would look scary on his roommate.
"I'm not pathetic. I'd like my college experience not to suck as much as my high school one, if you don't mind," he establishes, "and I refuse to let you ruin it for me."
"It's like you're my mother. 'We will have a good time, damn it!'"
Like that, he is back at Bullworth. "Shut up, Gary."
Gary vaults off of the bed in a way that Petey is sure would cause him to break his ankles, and relieves Petey of his suitcase. He proceeds to kick it aggressively under the bed before grabbing Petey's key, tossing it onto the desk near the wall opposite the beds, and seizing Petey by the arm. Petey mournfully watches the door close and hopes Gary didn't forget his key.
"Let me show you around, Femme-boy," Gary offers (read: demands) with some amount of glee. Petey nearly cries at the déjà vu this induces.
------
Gary's gotten a lot taller. And stronger.
Although Petey's taller too, he is still scrawny from skipping meals to study and surviving on a diet of nothing but Fritos and Dr. Pibb over the break. Gary easily drags him along, thankfully not commenting on how Petey still sort of looks like a girl. A lot.
They end up on a bench right outside the main entrance of the university, watching the pretty, volunteer upperclassman girl who gave Petey his key card photograph the front of the school.
It's remarkable how Petey and Gary immediately fall back into their old rhythm of insulting and subtly insulting back, especially since Pete was genuinely trying to avoid it five minutes ago. Gary elbows him in the stomach a little harder than necessary and says something immature about the girl. Petey would admonish him, but he feels a little sick watching her toss her pretty brown hair back over her pretty shoulder and trying to find a good angle by turning the camera a little in her pretty hands.
"I bet," Gary continues, "that I can get her to go on a date with me."
Petey actually laughs, which is kind of a bad idea in retrospect.
"What, you don't think I can?" Gary's voice is offended, a little dangerous.
"Well, no," Petey replies, "but not because, you know, there's anything wrong with you... Just, she's older. She's not gonna date a freshman, especially not one she doesn't even know."
Gary scoffs. "Watch this."
It must be Gary's taste for the theatrical that makes him include others in his personal affairs. Maybe he just needs the incentive, Petey thinks. As if Gary freaking Smith has to prove that he's ballsy to anyone.
He strides right up to pretty volunteer photographer girl with a gait longer than Petey remembers and engages her in conversation like he's not a raging sociopath with enough different pills on his prescription list to kill a bear with. Pretty volunteer girl smiles her cute smile and laughs a little. Petey sighs. It is so unfair. Gary will talk about nothing but how great he is, if she goes out with him. Petey would ask her regularly how her day was, what she liked about photography, and buy her flowers. All the stuff that Jimmy Hopkins used to use to woo the fairer sex. Petey is fairly certain he could work up the nerve eventually for pretty volunteer girl, but now it is too late. Gary's charisma has foiled all his plans once again.
Step into my parlor, said the spider to the fly, Petey thinks dismally. It doesn't make sense that he's jealous over a girl who has only ever said a sentence to him before, but he is. It's because he was looking forward to this new, not-Bullworth school. A fresh start where he could be the kind of guy who walks right up to a girl, smiles, and wins her heart.
Yeah, right.
By the time he thinks through all this, Gary walks back to him looking impossibly happy. Petey doesn't think he's ever seen Gary with that huge of a smile on his face. He almost doesn't look like he wants to be the next Hitler. Almost.
"Told you." That's all he needs to say.
Petey pretends that the redness in his cheeks is because he's surprised and amazed. It's really because he's trying hard not to run up to the roof of the building and hurl himself off of it, a bundle of crushed hopes and dreams.
But the blood stain on the front walkway would ruin pretty photographer girl's potential pictures.
------
Classes aren't as hard as he was dreading they would be. The way Mr. Hattrick spoke of college made it sound a whole lot scarier than it really is. Petey likes his professors so far, and his art class is fun, basically reminders of everything he'd first learned in elementary school with the promise that it would soon become much more interesting.
His schedule tells him that he officially has three days of no classes in a row this year. Petey grins at his good fortune. Of course, it means more classes at odd hours on the days he has them, but it's worth it to have so much time in between, he thinks. Maybe it's the prospect of this monumental break that leads to his next significant conversation with Gary.
"Got invited to a party," is what Gary says when Petey has dropped his backpack onto his bed and rubbed his shoulder into a comfortable position again. Their room is a lot more lived in than it was two days ago. A mixture of Gary and Petey are strewn about in the forms of sketchbooks, discarded underwear, and Nazi paraphernalia. "You coming?"
"I don't know," Petey replies, like he's forgotten that Gary is the kind of person who is going to tease him relentlessly until he gives in, "It's not really my thing."
Gary frowns. Not a good sign. "Come on, Femme-boy, don't be such a goody-goody. It's not like I offered you sex, drugs and rock and roll. It's a get-together. A social gathering. A soiree."
Petey's mind stopped at sex. ".... Wait, what?"
"It's French, stupid. And you're coming."
"Uh... I can't," he's floundering for excuses, and by the way Gary's looking at him now, Smith knows it. "I have... lots of work to do."
Eyes roll in exasperation. "You have three days off, you can do it tomorrow."
Surprise is the only thing that prevents him from asking how on earth Gary can know that. Gary pounces on the silence like a cat on a mouse. "It'll be fun. Remember fun? I'm sure it happened to you at some point in your life."
Before you, Petey's mind supplies, but like most witty retorts Petey thinks up, it stays in his head. It's no good to argue. Gary only does it for the sport. The moment his roommate asked him if he was coming, it had been established that he was.
"Fine," he says wearily. Gary looks almost disappointed at how quickly Petey has given in.
He's a sadist. Petey cannot for the life of him understand why it's Gary being invited to a college party, or why it's Gary going on a date with pretty volunteer girl. Gary tortures people.
Soon enough, Rhode Island U will find out the truth.
And on that day, Petey thinks, maybe he will get the love and affection of an enlightened and grateful photographer girl for his troubles.
"It's going to be great," Gary says. "We're in, Petey."
You're in. I'm not.
Then again, if he has to be like Gary to succeed in college life, he'd sooner be a failure.
------
It is not, as Gary promised, "great". In fact, the party is kind of terrible. Petey can't bring himself to believe that people actually willingly get together and throw their bodies around, sloshing punch everywhere, for funsies.
Petey is halfway up a staircase, leaning on the wall and trying not to be seen. From here, he can observe the party and not necessarily be part of it.
There's a couple making out on the couch of whoever-the-host-is. Petey doesn't know. All he knows is that he is in someone's home, there's a strong smell of B.O. everywhere, and the predominant form of entertainment for his generation is really just an orgy with clothes. This is what he has to look forward to all night until Gary drives him home. Fantastic.
A strange sound comes from upstairs and echoes down to him. Petey almost trips on another couple who have decided to violate the floor in his haste to get away and find refuge behind the refreshment table. Great, he can drown his sorrows in punch...
About three plastic cups later, the party is a helluva lot more fun. He hasn't seen Gary in ages, but that's perfectly alright with him, as he doesn't really want to go home anymore. There's a girl staring at him across the room, splayed out on the couch like an offering. Her hair is short, dark, and her eyes are glossy even from this far away. They sort of remind him of Gary's. She's not as attractive as pretty volunteer girl, but Petey's pants feel tight in a way that he hasn't had to deal with much since Bullworth. There is no explanation for him feeling so great, but this is exactly what he wanted, right? To be the kind of guy who can walk right up to a girl and win her heart. Here is his opportunity.
Petey drops his empty cup. Suddenly, a hand is tight on his wrist and wheeling him the other way around so quickly that he has to laugh. He is vaguely aware of stopping, his shoulders pressed against the wall and suddenly Gary is in his face, which is somehow inexplicably better than the girl across the room.
"Hi, you," Petey giggles.
Gary's face is kind of appealingly scrunched up. "You moron, you didn't actually drink the punch, did you?"
"Hmmmaybe, why?"
"Oh, damn," Gary says, his grip on Petey's shoulders loosening. Petey kind of wishes they wouldn't. "Damn, don't you watch television, idiot? You're drunk as hell."
"Noo, I'm not," Petey replies happily. Actually, he has never been drunk, so he really doesn't know. Or care. His pants are still being distractingly tight.
Gary seems to notice. His grip slacks off completely; Petey sighs in disappointment. "Dude. Get a hold of yourself."
"You can get a hold of me," suggests Petey stupidly, and Gary's lips twitch in either agitation, disgust, or amusement.
"No thanks. But I am gonna get you out of here, because I'm pretty valiant like that," Gary responds. "Though actually it's mostly because if I see another pair of people rutting on the floor, I might be sick."
This strikes Petey as incredibly humorous for some reason. He laughs all the way to the car and, slumping against it, only stops because Gary hits him kind of hard on the back. "Ow."
"Stop slobbering and get in," orders his roommate. "You're being pathetic."
"You know what's path-pa-pathetic?" Petey answers. "Y-you... following me around like, like I don't know why, you know?"
Gary pauses in his current task, which is unlocking the car doors. "Excuse me?"
"You know... you're so... so fucking dependent that you can't even function without me. I, I always helped you... It was me who told you everything about the cliques at Bullworth, who didn't give you away to Jimmy, you know?"
"No, I don't know," Gary hisses, dropping his keys onto the concrete and edging closer. Petey can feel his breath on his chin. That's kinda nice. "Enlighten me."
"You... need me," Petey finishes. He's just realizing it himself, actually. It's kind of sobering, but not enough that his beginnings of an erection have diminished any.
Gary's mouth is a hard line. "No. I don't. Now get in the car."
His roommate doesn't stop him when he puts his hands around his neck. "You haven't unlocked the car doors."
He kisses him until the hard line of Gary's mouth becomes something softer, until Gary makes a really strange, incredibly arousing noise against Petey's lips and pushes him hard against the door of his car. Petey fumbles, a collage of nerves and drunkenness that can't seem to organize himself enough to decide where to touch the other boy. Everywhere and anywhere both sound really good. Gary makes another sinful noise. He is so close that Petey can feel that he's hard too, against Petey's hip.
"Shit," says Gary, propelling himself away and picking up the car keys in one fluid, mapped out motion.
Petey blinks, bemused. "But-"
"Get. In."
Gary sounds just a little mad, so Petey doesn't argue any more. Though he can't see why Gary's so upset. He feels incredible.
------
"Is this how you feel when you don't take your meds?"
If it is, Petey can totally understand why. He's never been so exhilarated in his life, and all he's done is walk into the dorm room. Gary is directly behind him, looking darkly preoccupied as he sets his keycard down on the table and begins to take off his coat.
Petey doesn't even try to disguise the face that he's staring. He hasn't seen Gary look unnerved before, but it's a pretty sexy look for him.
"Look, Femme-boy, normally I'd be having a field day with this new revelation of gayness," Gary begins. "But you're so out of it that you wouldn't even remember. Geez, I'm surprised you haven't passed out yet."
"You kissed me," Petey reminds him in a singsong voice. "I have no idea why I'm still standing either."
Gary's eyebrows come close together. "That was-"
Eager to try again, Petey rounds on him, the look on his face enough to stop the other boy short. This time, it is Gary with his shoulders pressed into a wall. Petey's heart might be in danger of bursting at this moment. "Just shut up for once, Gary."
Gary struggles, but for all his muscles and Petey's rather pitiful state of scrawniness, Petey manages to keep him pinned. Somewhere, deep down, Petey knows he must want this. There's no good reason other than that why Gary hasn't kneed him in the balls as per usual, or why Gary kissed him back earlier. The other boy's face smoothes out when their lips touch, like paper unfolding. By some small miracle, Gary's hands end up entangled in Petey's curls and his tongue ends up in Petey's mouth. The noises happen again at delicious little intervals until, finally, Gary comes to his senses for a second time.
"Wait-" he says, turning his head so that Petey can't reach his lips. Undeterred, Petey advances down his neck, turning whatever Gary had to say next into an, "Ohh..."
Petey's never felt anyone up before, but if Gary freaking Smith is putty in his hands from a few strokes to the sides and a kiss to the neck, then he's gotta be pretty damn good at this. He is filled with a kind of fiercely inappropriate pride at this revelation. It encourages him to press his body flush to Gary's; to take in the fact that Gary's hips are straining against Petey's hold with something close to desperation and he is most decidedly hard underneath a layer of denim. They both groan when their hips collide. Petey's body knows what it's doing even if he really doesn't. A tilt from his hips makes Gary emit a sound strangely similar to a whine.
"Petey, a-ah, Petey you're drunk, this isn't, I mean... even I'm not that much of a jerk."
The tight urgency of Gary's hands on Petey's shoulders belies the gentlemanly argument his mouth is presenting. Petey's not really listening anyway, to tell the truth, and Gary stops protesting when Petey's hand cups him through his jeans. His face is a mixture of surprise and pleasure. It's a shame that Petey can't appreciate it while he's sinking to his knees.
He nudges the area beside his hand with his nose, earning a breathy noise of disbelief from Gary. He doesn't know how to do this, of course, he's never done this, but God, Petey wants to learn. For Gary. His fingers slowly unzip Gary's pants. It's like opening a birthday present.
"W-wait," a voice comes, unconvincing, from above him. "You're, you're wasted and you're gonna regret..."
"Shut up," Petey repeats, sliding Gary's pants down past his thighs. "Your boxers have ducks on them."
Petey laughs to see that Gary's blush extends a bit farther than his face. Without giving Gary a chance to respond, he hooks his fingers into those as well and tugs. Gary is... impressive. If Petey were more coherent, he might be slightly annoyed that, of course, Gary gets to add 'well-endowed' to his list of things to boast about. But he's not particularly coherent at the moment, so all he feels is appreciation and an overwhelming desire to hear Gary moan again.
"You're not- don't-" Gary stuffs his knuckles into his mouth and bites, hard, as Petey flicks an experimental tongue against the head of his cock.
"You want this, right?" Petey asks him, giggling a little vindictively and blowing gently on Gary's erection. The other boy's hips twitch.
"I do," Gary admits in a positively debauched voice. "But-"
Petey cuts him off again, sliding his tongue across a patch of skin at Gary's hip before moving down again. Gary's hands snap downwards, tangling in his hair, not so much guiding him as holding on for dear life. Petey hums, experimenting with his tongue and a bit of suction, judging by the needy gasps Gary lets out what he likes. He's new at this, his jaw isn't accustomed and he can't swallow as much of Gary as he'd so dearly like to, so Petey uses his hands as well. Gary whines at every new area they touch - the base of his cock, the tiny, private space behind his balls.
Petey gets greedier; the movement of Gary's hips becomes shallower, losing its rhythm. Petey thinks of all the times he's caught Gary in moments of privacy, twitching his foot to beats that cannot exist, his rhythm skewed, and somehow those fuzzy recollections are just as erotic as having Gary's cock in his mouth.
"Petey-" Gary warns, and Petey, whose head is still full of visions of this boy, who, really, he sort of hates at the same time, swallows around him, hungry. Gary's head falls back and he moans and Petey can feel him come into his mouth. It's unpleasant, bitter, but it's Gary, and Petey wants that... so much that behind the haze of intoxication, it hurts. He tries not to miss a drop. Gary's hips jerk.
"God," he hisses, burying his face in his hands and refusing to look down. "Damn... you shouldn't..."
He doesn't even hitch up his pants before he clambers into the top bunk and rolls to face the wall, leaving Petey in the center of the room, confused, happy, and hard.
------
All the bubbly, ecstatic, drunken feelings in the world cannot make up for the headache he wakes up with.
It's a pretty bad way to start the morning, staring up at your roommate's bed with your head feeling like someone has taken a sledgehammer to it, realizing that you may have given him a blow job.
Oh, God. He went down on Gary freaking Smith.
Petey doesn't know whether to vomit or cry, so he settles for an unstable state in between. Gary's going to kill him, ruin him. There's no way that Gary is just going to let it slide under the rug. Not when he could beat Petey over the head with it for the rest of his miserable life.
He groans, squeezes his eyes shut against the sun, and rolls out of bed.
He should go get breakfast. He should roll his way into the shower and try to pretend that nothing happened last night. Instead, he rubs at the soreness in his jaw and looks up to find that Gary is awake, staring at the ceiling. He looks like Petey feels.
"I think we need to talk," says assertive-Petey, taking over because Petey's pretty useless by himself.
Gary makes a face. A sort of resignation. "Yeah."
"So, um."
It appears that assertive-Petey has abandoned ship.
"Listen," Gary says quickly, in the manner of someone diving head-first into a pool of freezing water. "Last night… I didn't-"
"No, I know you didn't," Petey interjects. "And I don't want…"
"Yeah," Gary agrees uncomfortably, frowning a bit. "Me neither."
Petey clears his throat. "Alright then."
It doesn't feel as if they've rectified the situation any, but Petey can't think of anything else to say.
Looking distinctly awkward, Gary dislodges himself from his sheets and slips off of the bed, heading for the bathroom. Petey can see a glimpse of duck-print underwear peaking out from above Gary's jeans and feels the blood rush to his face. He can't believe he questioned Gary Smith's taste in underwear. Out loud, too.
Damn, says his brain angrily.
He sighs and contemplates just crawling into the bed and never coming back out. The shower comes on in the background of his thoughts. He can hear the noise alter as Gary steps in between the water and the tiles.
It can't be healthy that he can't get that image out of his head. It's certainly not healthy that he has a pretty accurate idea of what it would look like.
When Gary emerges amidst a bout of steam twenty minutes later, Petey is in the same position as when he went in, with the same mortified expression on his feminine face.
"Hey," he says, sounding appropriately uncomfortable to go along with his expression. "I'll be back in a little while, alright?"
Petey's mouth has an alarming tendency to open itself without his bidding. "Why? Where are you going?"
He says it like he wants Gary to stay. Like it wouldn't kill him, when it definitely would.
"I have a date with Rebecca, remember?"
"Who?"
"She's the upperclassman who you told me would never date me," Gary explains. Petey has never seen him blush before. It isn't very becoming.
"Oh," replies Petey. It's stupid, but he's kind of offended that he, you know, sucked Gary off and now he's leaving for a date with another girl.
It will take a few hours before Petey realizes that he's just called himself a girl in his own head.
"Right." Gary scratches the back of his head. At least he has the decency to look guilty. "See you."
Petey's feeling rather numb. "See you."
Gary makes sure to be extra careful in not slamming the door.
------
It turns out that crawling into bed again and ignoring the world for a while wasn't really a bad idea.
His head is still throbbing a little, sure, but somehow the cocoon of his blankets is protecting him from all those nasty real world thoughts like did I actually really and truly perform fellatio on Gary Smith? and, even more disturbing, I think I might have enjoyed it.
And somewhere in there is the unbidden will Rebecca do it, too?
That one makes his stomach attempt kick flips, and now he's too confused to know whether the performance is for Gary or Rebecca.
The blanket fortress only keeps him safe from consequences for a few hours. Then he can hear laughter. Gary rarely laughs in front of him, and almost never for him, but it's a sound that Petey knows and recognizes. The other voice must be Rebecca's. She sounds happy. Shuffling, more giggling on Rebecca's part, and the door swings open. Petey hopes to God that Rebecca can't see him here, trying to drown himself in his self-pity, but at the same time, he can seem to force himself to move.
"See you," Gary whispers. It's more special when he says it to Rebecca rather than Petey, who is pathetic.
"See you," Rebecca replies, all cute smile and sparkling amber eyes.
Petey watches them kiss and really wants to die. He still can't move, though, not even when Rebecca leaves and shuts the door behind her. Gary turns around to look at him, eyes squinting as he tries to discern whether or not Petey exists underneath the bundle of sheets. Deciding that he must, Gary plops down on the end of Petey's bed. Petey tries desperately not to think after that.
"I'm sorry." Gary startles him by saying it. "I know it's wrong, to go on a date with her after... after, well... but it's not like I planned it, you know?"
"I know. You don't have to apologize to me," assertive-Petey tells him. In truth, Petey thinks he is owed a huge apology. His life has been uprooted and he's not sure what to do about it. It's entirely Gary Smith's fault. He'd never even thought about boys before...
Well, he'd thought about Gary, he realizes. He knows everything about Gary.
That doesn't exactly make him feel better. More like a stalker.
Petey notices that Gary has yet to move. He's very tense, like he's expecting Petey to hit him or something. As if Petey would be suicidal enough to pull that stunt. Actually, what Petey really wants to do, deep down, is wrestle the other boy to the bed and make him forget all about Rebecca what's-her-face.
"Really," he says instead. "Don't apologize."
Gary leaves now and again for classes. Each of his exits and entrances play Petey's heartstrings in the same painful way as the first ones until, thankfully, it is night time. Petey hasn't bothered to turn on the lights all day and Gary doesn't bother now.
He shifts wearily; the bed sags slightly under Gary's weight. Petey stares, intrigued, at the new arrangement of the mattress that he has been looking at all day.
"Good night," says Gary.
Petey can't sleep. Not now. "Good night."
A half-hour later, Petey lies awake and listens to Gary masturbate.
------
Gary's dates with Rebecca go well. The goodbye kisses grow longer.
Petey's stomach consistently threatens to kill him with its acrobatics. As if it isn't used to Gary's abuse by now. As if the other boy hadn't spent four years making Petey's life as awful as possible.
He licks his lips, a nervous habit he's developed. Skipping class is something he has never done, so of course he's nervous. But he can't remember where he's supposed to be and he honestly can't bring himself to care. So he stays in bed another day and tries to minimize how often he needs to breathe.
This is the day that everything changes. Today when Gary comes into the room, Rebecca isn't with him.
"Hey," he addresses the lump of blankets that he's come to recognize as his roommate. "Have you been in bed all day? Don't you have classes?"
"Yes and yes," grumbles Petey. Gary makes a noise somewhere between interest in surprise. Petey hasn't moped all day in bed since the day after the Incident. He's only doing it now because he's tired of watching Rebecca shove her tongue into Gary's mouth. He wonders how Gary can possibly not make the connection.
"I hadn't really pegged you for the class-skipping type," Gary comments. "Listen, I need a favor."
"What?" asks Petey. His head says something more along the lines of, fuck your favor.
"Well, uhm..." the falter in his voice makes Petey look up at him. Gary is an interesting shade of red and seems fixated on the ceiling. Petey can relate, since he's now spent a few days becoming acquainted with the underside of Gary's mattress. "Rebecca and I..." Petey's stomach sinks. "... she wants to come in, so if you could... make yourself scarce?"
Make myself scarce? Is she going to let you fuck her? Is that why you don't want me? If you didn't fucking want it, then why did you let me do it!?
More than this rushes through Petey's brain. All he says is, "Okay."
Gary breathes a sigh a relief. "Thanks."
Petey disentangles himself from his cocoon, blinking rapidly, and shuffles to the doorway, thinking that he might just dissolve and save everyone a bunch of trouble. Rebecca is standing at the door when he opens it. She blushes when she sees him. He still thinks she's very pretty, even with the splotches of red dotting her cheeks.
"Oh, hi."
"Hey," says Petey, flashing a smile at her. He wants to flail and scream and throw himself against the wall for good measure, but his assertive-Petey has taken up the habit of speaking for him. What comes out is, "Look, Gary's a good guy. He wasn't always, but he is now. I can tell he really likes you."
He doesn't know why he says it. Most of it is a lie.
Rebecca casts him a grateful look. "Thank you."
Then she is in and he is out, running down the corridor without any idea where he's going. He slams into a mirror in a thankfully empty men's bathroom and, heart pounding, twists the water on. His hands jams themselves into the sink, forced to stay under a stream of unbearably hot water. He feels used, humiliated, stupid. Ritualistically, he scrubs at his nails and then rubs the scalding water all over his dirty face before plunging his hands in again. He is trying not to think. He doesn't want to think about how Gary is happy with Rebecca and only awkward and occasionally cruel to him. He doesn't want to think about the two of them having sex in his bed, because who the hell would have sex on the top bunk? He doesn't want to think, period. Just wants to watch his hands turn red.
Eventually the water stops hurting. He lets his hands go limp in the sink and slides to his knees, brushing his jeans against the filthy bathroom floor and hoping like hell that his face is wet enough to disguise the tears.
------
Gary is still tangled in his sheets, alone, when Petey returns the next morning.
Having spent most of the night hiding in the bathroom and giving himself accusing stares in the mirror has left Petey in a less than agreeable mood. It isn't helped by the fact that he can see samples of Gary's skin from behind the covers and, unbelievably, this sends a shiver of longing coursing through his body.
He dodges into the bathroom and hides out in the shower. Once again, the water is punishingly hot, but not because he wants to admonish himself for being stupid, but because he feels ashamed and he wants that to go away. Wills it to drip off of him and into the drain.
He feels a lot clearer after he's clean. He really should go to class, sort out his priorities, and get back on track. Gary should not be his primary concern... but, of course, he is.
Which is why Petey finds himself sitting cross-legged on the carpet, leaning against the wall and waiting for Gary to wake up and get the hell out of his bed. It doesn't take long. Gary is naturally paranoid, and that makes him an incredibly light sleeper. Soon, he grunts and groggily opens his eyes.
"Good morning," Petey greets, with the same smile that helped get Gary laid the previous night.
"Morning," Gary grunts, squinting. "Don't you have class?"
"Yes."
Gary's expression is carefully unreadable. "This staying in bed all day and wallowing thing. It's because of me, isn't it? I thought we'd..."
Whatever Gary thought they'd done, Petey doesn't find out. Gary trails off and stares, distracted and embarrassed, at Petey's blanket.
"Made up?" Petey guesses. "Yeah, me, too. I mean, I didn't expect for us to be okay afterwards, but I thought it would eventually work itself out... I guess I didn't plan on you hopping into bed with Rebecca as soon as you got the chance."
He can't believe that he's actually admitting this to Gary. He's just setting himself up for humiliation now. He mentally curses assertive-Petey, but in a way he's grateful. Gary doesn't really scare him anymore. Sure, he still hates him, but... it's complicated.
Gary sits up in his bed and the sheets slide down further. Petey counts a few moles and several freckles. He wants to kiss every one. He also wants to wrap his scalded hands around Gary's neck and squeeze him to death. It's a conflict that he often feels when it comes to Gary.
"I'd already arranged a date with Rebecca," he whispers. Petey has to lean a bit to hear him. "And I just... I thought you said you didn't want to dwell on it."
"That isn't what I said," Petey says, screwing up his face.
Gary frowns. "I apologized."
"I remember. I didn't bet on, you know, realizing that what I did wasn't just because I was drunk."
His roommate is silent, so he continues, "At first I was embarrassed, and that's why I wouldn't talk to you... then it was because you were with Rebecca, and I couldn't stand it, I was so jealous."
Petey doesn't know where this is coming from. He's just waiting for Gary to bash him over the head with it.
"Sorry," Gary mumbles, guilt riddling his features. "But you were drunk. I figured you just wanted to forget. I felt bad for taking advantage of you."
They are actually having this conversation. Petey has lost feeling in his toes.
"Wow. You rubbed that in my face a lot less than I expected."
Gary's nose is quite interesting when he scrunches it up. "What? Petey, do you still think I'm going to make fun of you? It's been years. I haven't been the perfect friend, obviously, but when was the last time I hit you or called you a girl or anything like that?"
Petey thinks hard and can't find an answer. Gary has actually been pretty nice to him this whole time, joking with him, inviting him to a party and driving him there, giving him his space. In fact, it's only been the fear in Petey's head bothering him at all this entire time. He wasn't necessarily upset by the blowjob, he'd just been terrified of Gary hating or resenting him, teasing him, rejecting him...
"I'm not perfect, but I'm... trying. I've changed, in case you didn't notice."
Petey hadn't.
"I did too," he mutters, sullen.
Gary actually laughs. "Yeah, I know."
Petey laughs too. The situation is just so hopeless. "I feel pretty pathetic right now."
"Me too," Gary admits, grinning like a lunatic. "You know, I didn't have sex with Rebecca."
"Why not?"
Gary's red face still isn't very fetching, but Petey likes it anyway. "I may have said the wrong name when she put her hand down my pants."
"... No... way," Petey snorts, trying not to lose his composure and laugh. Gary has consciously been trying to rein in his sociopathic impulses but he still probably wouldn't appreciate Petey laughing at him.
"I guess she wasn't my type," Gary says quietly.
"So your type is scrawny Pollock boys?"
No sooner is it out of his mouth than Petey regrets it. He was so relieved that this was going okay, but that didn't mean that it was alright to suggest that he and Gary...
"Looks like it," says Gary, and fixes everything. Petey's stomach and heart both do a collaborative routine that makes him feel deliriously giddy. Gary freaking Smith just made a pass at him. "Even if sometimes they're thick headed."
"I'm not the only one. I thought that insult thing was going to stop?"
Gary smiles. "Some habits are hard to break."
Petey yawns, breaking the mood, and remembers that he has yet to sleep. Gary seems to notice how tired he looks. He shuffles backwards to make room and lifts the covers in a gesture for Petey to join him. Petey will have to start making up new words for "unbelievable" at this rate.
"You're not getting out of my bed?" he asks incredulously.
The expression he gets in response sends his heart racing. "Possibly never."
Good enough. Close proximity with Gary Smith without the dread of inevitable pain is something completely foreign to Petey but Gary doesn't bite him after all, just curls around him like a big, content cat. His nose tickles Petey's ear.
"Sleep well," he whispers.
Petey is the single luckiest miserable boy on the planet.
------
Of all the stupid things he's done in his life, falling asleep in a position of vulnerability near Gary Smith tops the list.
It's a good thing Petey isn't very adverse to waking up and being immediately molested. That doesn't stop him from questioning Gary's sudden onslaught. He'd been having such a good dream beforehand.
"I couldn't take it anymore," Gary explains, lips moving distractingly against the skin of Petey's throat. "You were dreaming and you kept making these little noises. I thought I was going to die."
He sort of deserves it, after putting Petey through all he's been through, but Petey's brain has shut down and he doesn't even think about that. It's hard to think about anything with Gary grazing his teeth against Petey's ear like that. Instinctively, Petey shifts closer. Gary exhales deeply and suddenly his hands are on the nape of Petey's neck, pulling his lips to Gary's in the same way Petey imagines a person in the desert would treat a glass of water. He groans. His one drunken encounter with his roommate hadn't been nearly long enough for him to appreciate every aspect of this kissing thing.
But when he tries to reciprocate, Gary grabs his wrist tightly. It's almost painful, and Petey's mind is filled with memories of Gary from the Bullworth days. It's not so much terrifying as it is arousing. He can't even stop to think why. Gary guides Petey's hands away from his body.
"If I remember," Gary whispers in between quick, sloppy kisses to Petey's jaw. "I neglected to return the favor a few nights ago."
Petey's breath catches unexpectedly. "T-that's right."
"So quick to agree, Femme-boy, are you that vengeful?"
"Femme-boy?" Petey asks with a cock of the eyebrow.
Gary's lips twitch upward. Like either of them know what they're doing. "Remember? Some habits die hard."
"God, I hope so."
Without another word, Gary lights him on fire. There's no logical reason why Gary's teeth on his nipple should feel so damn fantastic, but like much of experience with Gary so far, it feels good anyway. The other boy's nails rake his back, making him curve towards Gary, who recieves him eagerly. Suddenly, Gary's tongue is everywhere along his torso, playing him like an instrument. Petey is reduced to making small, needy sounds in the back of his throat. Admittedly, they're pretty humiliating, but hell if Pete Kowalski fucking cares.
The transition from licking to groping is as abrupt as a car crash and leaves Petey's heart beating as fast as if he'd actually been in one. No one, no one has ever touched his cock before other than him... and the fact that it's Gary's fingers dipping into his underwear is simply mind-blowing. He whines, growls, feels a whole lot like an animal. "Gary..."
He hums in response, tickling Petey's stomach. It feels pretty remarkable when juxtaposed with Gary's hand wrapped around him, fondling him beneath his pants. Petey's heart throbs somewhere in his esophagus.
"I always wanted to do this at Bullworth," Gary tells him. His voice is near silent, but it echoes anyway in the still room.
Petey trembles. "But you were so..."
"I know," his roommate nods, retracting his hand from Petey's pants and using it to rub the small of his back. "Still am, really... I just control it better. Happy Volts taught me that. But with you I felt - feel like I have to, I don't know, pull your pigtails. Do you know what I mean?"
If by pigtails you mean my penis, then we are totally in sync, Petey thinks. But beneath his hormones, he knows how rare it is for Gary to actually open up about even the smallest of things and that he can't ruin this by being stupid.
"I have to admit, I wasn't on the same track," Petey whispers. "You made my life hell, actually... and then after the party I was pretty damn confused."
"Me too," Gary laughs. "And guilty."
Petey's eyes smolder. "Make it up to me."
He watches Gary's tongue moisten his lips with thinly disguised interest. "'Kay."
With his shirt unbuttoned and falling open, lips bruised and hair disheveled, Petey looks very appetizing. Gary keeps this to himself, of course, but it is an image he knows will be forever burnt into his mind. A gentle push to the chest and Petey complacently falls back onto the bed. He should be self-conscious, nervous, apprehensive, but he isn't any of those things. Somehow the swipe of Gary's fingers and tongue against his body is a reassuring gesture.
From the receiving end, this is even better. For all the desire he had to make Gary come undone, it's still a bit relieving to let Gary return the favor. Because he's always subjected himself to Gary's torture in high school, and he's been anticipating the day in college when Gary would snap, it's natural for him to lie back and allow Gary to assault his stomach with butterfly kisses and assume control. Like this is Gary's new method of torture and Petey deserves it.
It's probably a little sad for him to feel neglected without Gary's abuse coming at regular intervals.
Although, if a little sarcasm is all he has to put up with to get his roommate's hands down his jeans, then consider Pete Kowalski a masochist.
He can't help the shaky little noise of trepidation that comes out of him when Gary's hand moves to unbutton his pants. A majority of his mind that is thinking this cannot possibly be happening, that he will wake up soon and nothing whatsoever will be resolved. But Gary's hand certainly feels real, groping him around his underwear.
"No embarrassing patterns on your undies, Petey?" Gary questions. "I'm a little disappointed."
Petey plans to reply. He really does. It's just hard to get his brain to function properly when Gary is so quick to slip his briefs down and meet Petey's erection with his mouth. It's lucky that Gary has his hands firmly on Petey's hips, because his suddenness causes his victim to buck his hips.
"God, Gary," Petey breathes.
Gary hums, which feels better than it has any right to feel. "Could get used to that."
No kidding, says what's left of Petey's mind. He has never felt anything so good before. Never. And that Gary is willing, eager even, is just...
He groans as Gary does something with his tongue that Petey hadn't even thought of when he'd done this. Jesus, if Gary tells him to go outside right now and kill the first person he sees, Petey will do it. He suddenly understands why Trent used to talk about oral sex with glowing eyes.
Gary's hair is soft, still cut like Petey remembers it. The shorter bits tickle his fingers as Petey touches all of Gary he can reach. He lingers on the scar across Gary's eyebrow. It feels rough in contrast to the rest of his skin, but Petey likes that. He feels himself and Gary's mouth where they join.
Another one of those strange noises, muffled against Petey's cock. He gasps for breath. Only marginally successful.
Gary moves, and all Petey can see are pinpricks of color dancing along that familiar mattress. All he can think is, oh, please. Luckily, Gary is a mind reader. Each swipe of his tongue and motion of his lips has Petey shuddering towards the edge. It's left him an unintelligible mess on the bed. Everything is happening so fast it's hard to stand.
Gary draws him into his mouth and sucks and Petey never has a chance to say anything, to think, to breathe. He cannot dare to believe that this is happening to him but it's the best dream he's ever had, and Gary swallows around him. Keeps swallowing, even after Petey muffles himself with his fingers, squeezes his eyes shut and comes harder than he ever has in his entire life.
His roommate looks exceedingly pleased with himself as he drifts back up to Petey, now boneless, and drapes himself across him. Petey's lungs are still trying to catch up with his pulse. Gary's fingers twine themselves into his hair and they kiss. Petey really doesn't need to breathe after that. Just slides into Gary's arms. No, he still doesn't find it a safe thing to do, but he wants to anyway.
"Love you," Gary mutters sleepily, closing his eyes and burying his face into Petey's neck. Petey freezes, unprepared for the confession. The soft, even puffs of air against his neck tell him that Gary has fallen asleep. It's something he'll have to worry about in the morning, how his heart is still fluttering wildly in his throat...
For now, Petey can't think for all the world of anyone he'd rather have as his roommate.