Flitty to Bits
AN: Flit (flitty): 50's slang for homosexual.
"Can't you wallow in your own room, Ackley?"
He glanced at my through the corner of his eyes and crumpled backwards onto my bed. "I really can't stand that sonuvabitch Ely right now, I really can't." And what, does he like me better? Touching. We haven't been in the same room for longer than 10 minutes in years, for Chrissake.
As I hang up my coat I try asking him to get the hell off my bed, but doesn't reply. That crook. Instead, he picks at his fingernails. All over my bed, in fact. If it wasn't laundry day today I would have shoved him off myself. He and Holden basically live in this room, but Ackley doesn't have a shred of decency in him. At least I keep some things clean.
"Ya know, Holden's bed is right over there, Ackley. If you're waiting for him, you can mess up his things, not mine." Sure, I might be well acquainted with the fellow, but even I have standards. But Ackley just keep right on ignoring me, so I sat right down on the edge of Holden's bed to finish untying my shoelaces.
Ackley and I have never gotten along, not once. Ackley was never to fond of me either, but unlike him I don't let people get too interested in who I like or don't like. For instance, the other day Holden asked me what I think of Ackley; I looked him dead in the eye and said Ackley boy was a prince, a real prince, you know? When I lift one of my brilliant grins and puff out my chest I can pretty much anyone to believe anything I say. And anyone means everyone.
Other than the consistent clicks and sounds from Ackley's nails, the room was tensely silent. I tossed my shoes by my the door, accidentally knocking Holden's to the side in disarray. I guess Ackley had spent that time pathetically thinking of a comeback, because he decides it's fine and dandy time to open up his mouth.
"You know Stradlater, what does it matter which bed I use anyways? You used to be quite fond of mine, remember~?" A disgusting smirk crawled its way up his face. I felt like smacking that cocky look right offa him; next time he mentions that night I just might.I shoot him a murderous glare, but my stupid face just kept getting redder and redder. It was a mistake. I'm not a flit, I swear I'm not. Of course, as I am fuming off to the side, that Ackley prince thinks he's so charming that he starts laughing his ass off like a goddamn hyena. "Hey take it easy, willya let-
"Didn't we say we wouldn't mention that?" Well now I've done it. "I shook your filthy hand, and you shook mine. That's that. I was probably drunk, and it doesn't even matter. What kinda guy tramples on-"
"For Chrissake Stradlater, give it a rest!" Oh, he wanted me to give it a rest! In the two years I've known this kid he's never said a single rational thing to anyone. He's just a moron, and I should have never thought otherwise. "You were sober as a baby, and you know it. First year at Pencey you wouldn't even touch booze. I was the one drunk off my ass."
I couldn't take it any longer; I sprung upright, and tensed up my muscles. If he wanted a show, I would give him a show.
"I'm warning ya, God damn it, if you don't keep your mouth shut this won't end nice, buddy" My fists were just itching for somethin' to smack. Ackley's pimply face would look better with a few blows anyhow. His face changed a lot from how it was during the first year at Pencey, just sayin'. I sorta pity him, in a way.
With my eyes narrowed to slits, I scowled down him as he pulled that lanky body slowly up from my bed. I rivaled him with at least three more inches, so no matter what he did I would be looking down on him. He took a step closer, not getting the message I was sending. When I took a moment to really look at the shrimp it was clear he was getting a heck of a kick outa all this. So I took a step closer, pressing our chests together dangerously. After a few tough shoves from both of us, Ackley's hand had sprung up to grip my collar with a sharp upwards tug. So I returned the favor.
"Don't want everyone to know you're a little flit, right? Right?!" It was my turn to scoff at his remarks. Oh what a thing to say. I'm not a flit and everyone knows it. Him on the other hand...well let's just say I know how'ta make a rumor believable if I need to. I'm pretty good at acting like a swell guy, if you must know. I pulled his collar up a little higher; his mouth gaped for air like a fish.
"Could say the same for you, Ackley. I'm into chicks, haven't you heard? Like a real man. I've given the time to every pretty woman in this city! You on the other hand haven't been on a real date with a proper woman your whole life." I brought other hand down to his forearm and begin to tug his sweaty hand off my collar. The skin on my neck was chafing cus of it. "I bet you're still a virgin Ackley boy. Bet you've never given a girl the time in your life."
"S-shut up, God damn it." I scoffed as he struggled under me. It's just too goddamn funny. This arrogant bastard is in over his head. I was sure I would walk out of this room the winner, but he gets sorta quiet for a second and whispers, "Cus you know Stradlater, last I checked you're the one who necked me first." I tighten my grip, but he doesn't flounder.
"You said it yourself; you were drunk off your ass. No one will believe a word you say, and I'll make sure of it."
Thinking back, it's obvious the first year at Pencey was the roughest. I was smaller than most of the guys in my grade, and so was Ackley. It used to be me and him against the world back then. But someone must've put something in my drink, I swear it. No way in hell could I be a flit, it was just a fluke. It had to be. And even if I once was, I'm all cured now. Puberty gave me a pretty face and a body to match. No woman will ever reject me.
And I'll never let them.
But as Ackley brought his face closer to mine I could no longer feel the irritating sensation at the back of my neck. Instead, I felt heat puddle on my ears and neck. All I could focus on was the pair of bright blue eyes gleaming back at me. I reluctantly swallowed the clump of saliva that pooled in the back of my mouth. I felt like I was on fire, and he knew it. Oh that prince definitely knew what he was doing. That cocky sunovabitch, I should'a stick a bar of soap in his mouth for ever opening his mouth.
However, the room was still getting hotter and hotter, but he just kept coming closer, and closer, until I could feel his breath on my cheek. I, on the other hand, held my breath deep. That must've been why my chest was feeling so stuffy and heavy. Yes, yes, of course it was. Looking back, I bet Ackley, was getting a kick outta the view of my handsome face because he just kept grinning up at me like a bastard.
"Ackley? Stradlater?" We jumped apart so fast we were like flees.
Holden rolled his eyes and walked to his desk. He didn't seem to notice anything was wrong, and began putting his books on his bed. Surprisingly enough, even Ackley face was flaming red. I had to get outta there fast so I didn't really have time to think where to go. I just smacked his shoulder, and picked up my bag and shoes as I scurried to the door.
"Brush you teeth sometime Ackley, it'll do u some good." Without turning back I fled the room, shoes hanging from my hand.
I'm not a flit, I swear I'm not.
I'm not, for the last time...
I'm not.
AN: Okay so this is a bit of a change from my normal writing. I know Ackley x Stradlater is kinda a stupid ship because in the book their characters never get along. I wrote this with that in mind. I also wrote this for an english assignment, and I wanted to test out my abilities. I learned a lot, but I would truly appreciate any and all feedback I can get!
