Authors Note: Holy shit sticks. I am SO sorry I haven't updated in more than a month! I'm so so so so so so so sorry! I've been so busy and I had forgotten all about this story. I've also lost quite a bit of inspiation for it, so... I'm not sure if I'll continue writing it. Though, thanks for the reviews! They helped at the time and really.. all I had gotten done ever since those reviews until now was the part about Peanut angsting. Not much else to say.. But I have gotten Muse's new CD, the Resistance. Where do you think the chapter title came from? :] It's AMAZING, and it's definitely worth checking out... So,
Happy reading!
*Chapter Three – Unnatural Selection
Johnny dipped his head as he met Peanut's gaze.
It was embarrassing, finally figuring out how the brunette felt. He had drunk a shit load last night and still recalled the foggy memories that haunted him throughout the day. In English, the word alley came up for spelling. It reminded him of how Peanut's hands slid down the front of his jeans, undoing his zipper with such experience. And how he had slurred his closest friend's name as he came all over his right hand. The best friend's hand that had worked on his bike when Johnny had broken his fist in a fight. The hands that touched himself at night, pretending that he, himself was the King Greaser. It had been so wrong but at the time... it felt so fucking right.
He lit up a cigarette and held it to his lips.
Lola had been clueless, most thankfully due to the amount of rumours that had been spread around; zero. Nobody saw them, nobody had seen what they had done. The thought calmed Johnny right away, allowing him to take another long drag from his cancer stick. Lola was his girl and nobody could take that position. At least, that's what he believed.
Peanut was thinking quite differently.
He needed Johnny in a way a person needed air. Without it, he would suffocate and suffer a slow painful death. Well, he wouldn't die, but it was certainly pure misery.
Peanut could tell Johnny didn't want any of it. That it was just one of those... pointless one night stands. As if it was something that they would never look back on again. He couldn't look him in the eye at all the next morning, when all he wanted last night was to stare right into his dark brown eyes. Both of them knew it though; that they would never ever be able to forget the experience.
"Hi Johnny," Lola cooed, sauntering over as she licked her lips. They were plump and a bright shade of pink, the perfect kind you never wanted to break free from. The way her lips moved as she talked was like ecstasy, so unbearably addictive. When they opened in that perfect 'o' form, Johnny couldn't help but recall the way she would moan his name. None of her body was uncharted territory for the King.
"Hey there," he grinned back at her, wrapping his arms around the woman's petite waist. She smiled at him and pressed her lips against his, darting her tongue in and out of his mouth. Peanut cringed at the sight. He tossed his glare elsewhere, trying to block out their moans and groans. She was the King's heroin and he was the junkie, not able to break away from her iron grasp.
Johnny slipped his hands on Lola's bum and squeezed it, causing her to giggle uncontrollably. She was so unbearably addictive...
Peanut turned on him, leaving the King to his Queen. He was so unbearably addictive.
He puffed out a ring of smoke as he passed the other greasers, each one nodding a 'hello'. Sometimes, he felt as if he wasn't real – that he didn't belong to this time; that the future would be a perfect setting for his existence. No one knew the pain he would go through, even with a smile plastered on his face. Call it clichéd, but he was suffering beneath like all boys in the closet did.
Turning a corner, he bumped into Bif Tremblay, who gave him the glare of death.
"Watch where you're going, faggot!" He growled, raising a fist. The words cut to his heart, tearing him apart.
"Well get your mind out of the fucking gutters, fairy! Maybe then you can walk straight when you stop fantasying about your pathetic Derby!" He snapped right back, mirroring the Prep's fist. Immediately, Preps jumped to Bif's side, all ready for the action. Peanut wasn't alone as Lucky, Hal and Vance stepped up beside him.
***
"I tell you, Derby, they're out of control," Bif frowned as he pressed ice to his bruised cheek. The blonde was sitting at his desk, trying to figure out whether he was going to wear Hugo Boss to the ball or something his mother would make him. He wanted the label... but then again, if the guests asked him what he was wearing he could always reply, "My mother is a fabulous tailor, can you believe she took the time with her own hands to do this for me? Such a splendid, adoring mother." Then again, there was no way that his mother would do something like that...
Unless hell froze over.
He would probably end up ordering one from Italy, made to fit his exact size. "Mmm, really now?" Bif was barely stirring any interest for him in the conversation. He picked up a catalogue that his mother had given him, something she had put together herself. The prices to a commoner, such as Hopkins, would be ridiculous but to Derby, they were nothing. A white tux would be stunning and clichéd, but it would make him look rather exquisite. But then there's the classical black and white suit... which would also look splendid. In the end, it would lie on the hotel's floor, joined with Bif's.
"Yes! I ran into one of the runts and he immediately started a fight with me! Then he managed to get in a good punch on the side of face and the prefects came waddling over. Seth Kolbe is such a dirty fighter when he's with Edward Seymour. You'd think he has the hots for him... Ugh," Bif raised his nose in disgust and sighed at the cool feeling of the ice. It melted away the pain but when he took it off for moments, the burning would start again. The thought reminded him of so many other things.
"Ah, shame," Derby still wasn't listening as much as Bif wanted him to. "Maybe you should have kept your guard up," he frowned, unaware of Bif standing up and walking over to him. Bif came behind the blonde and reached over Derby's shoulders to rub the crotch of his pants. "Not... now..." He panted as Bif slid his hands under the button and began to stroke his leader slowly. Derby tilted his head back, looking deep into Bif's eyes. "Do me, now." The red head smiled, kissing Derby gently as he pulled him away from his chair and onto the bed. Clothing was scattered on the ground in mere seconds. Derby's wish was his command.
After they had finished and Derby climbed into Bif's arms, they began to whisper to each other.
"You know, blue would probably look good on you," Derby grinned, tapping Bif's nose.
"Nah, I think blue would be more your colour. It would really make your eyes stand him," he smiled, leaning in to kiss his fearless leader.
"Mmm, maybe. Hey, I could wear blue and you could wear white... At least nothing white would show on yours," he laughed, nipping Bif's neck.
"You're right. White's the perfect choice," he absently traced imaginary lines across Derby's thigh, causing him to melt into his arms.
***
Back at the greaser hangout, Johnny was lying on his bed, dragging the hell out of his cigarette.
"Hey, if you really want to suck on something, I'm here."
Johnny looked over to see Peanut standing in his doorway. Lola had just left a while ago and he was ready for a second round. A coy smile played on his lips as he beckoned his second-hand man towards him. He crossed the room with long strides, confidence radiating from his body. In a way, Johnny was his.
And he was never going to let anyone tell him any different.
AN: Also, sorry for the very short chapter. I'm not sure if this is the end but... you never know. This is just kind of a shitty attempt to revive this story...
