Breaching the Contract
[A/N: There's a little bit of sexless plot in this one. Get it? I flipped the saying. Oh ho ho ho ho… I crack myself up.
Peter has the worst luck, and Gary is just cruel. Big surprise. There will be smexiness in the next chapter.]
Shit.
Peter woke up from a pleasant dream - nothing but slowly moving colors and warmth – to a scarred face that made his entire body cringe with panic. Gary was still slumbering and there was an arm wrapped around his torso. In his sleep, the hermit had shifted so that he was facing his captor, hands folded between their chests, knees curled upwards. He had fallen asleep to a palm rubbing along his side with a tenderness that neither of them was expecting, dozing into bliss with the one person he feared more than anything else.
He gently lifted his head to see if it was morning, but there was no light streaming in between the shades, and when he exhaled into the room there was a puff of white. He shivered, pressing closer into the boy before him, not wanting to, but feeling dreadfully cold. There was a faint whistle, and Pete realized that the window was open, probably had been all night, so he reached under his slightly lifted neck and tugged the blanket closer around his naked shoulders.
There was a moment of drowsy silence, the smaller male falling into soft warmth, and he pressed his face against the cotton of Gary's vest, breathing gently. Gary was awake suddenly, wrenched out of his own REM, feeling movement against him. Battered hands shot out from their respective resting places, and in seconds Pete was pinned against the bed. Gary sat on his stomach, fingers wrapped around a pale throat, face filled with insatiable rage.
Peter choked back a surprised yelp, knowing that he should be terrified but only feeling a misplaced kind of pity. He pressed his lips together, lifting his chin in an attempt to show the older male that he was not a threat, holding his hands palm-up on either side of his head. The anger and fear melted into quiet apathy, and Gary slowly came to his senses, letting out a heavy breath and moving off of the other teen.
"Get out." He said with a sad kind of resolve, avoiding eye contact with his companion.
"Gary, I-"
"Get the fuck out!" There was bitterness in his shout, and Peter had more sense than to question it.
With hurried movements, Pete stood from the bed, yanked on the pajamas that had been strewn across the floor, and slipped noiselessly from the icy room. He trotted with a pained limp, wincing when he hurried a little too quickly towards his own dorm, grabbing up the blanket that had been left in the middle of the hallway not hours before. His door closed with a gentle click, and he immediately collapsed in his bed, watching as the sun peaked out from the horizon with golden-tinted rays.
There was a curling in his stomach, knowing that he would get no sleep, comforted by the thought that he wouldn't have to deal with restlessness later that day. Because he didn't have much of a choice, he flipped off his alarm clock – which had yet to go off – and headed towards the shower. The hot water felt wonderful on his freezing body, but there was a painful stinging in his backside that he recognized. The thought made him press his forehead against the tiles on the wall and feel nothing but heat envelope him.
Gary was an unsolvable puzzle. He was cruel - it was in his nature - but it was as though he didn't at all mind being tender sometimes. Peter was being wrenched to and fro, spitefully tight fingers tearing him in two, always accompanied by intensity. A dreadful, fantastic intensity.
Shit shit shit shit shit! He cursed to himself again, glancing down at the sudsy water that was slipping past the drain, tinted slightly pink. He had no idea what to do, and there were so few options. He could lay back, take it, move to the sadist's whims, or he could resist and have the deal fall out from under him.
He doubted the deal was all he was dreading about resistance, though. The sex was wonderful, even if it was probably more than he bargained for. Pete had so little leverage, so little control, but the very thought made him shiver with glee. That, and if he told the older teen to leave him alone, he would be subjected to more cruelty, probably of similar nature. He most definitely didn't want that.
After dressing, Pete headed down to the cafeteria and grabbed a dry apple from the "fresh" fruit bin. It was bad, but it was food, and he bit into it on his way to Art class. He arrived much earlier than class was supposed to be held, and found his instructor with her head on her desk, snoring gently.
"Ms. Philips?" Peter tried tentatively, the woman snorting and sitting up briskly.
She looked around for a moment, as though she wasn't sure of where she was, sighing unhappily when her frantic gaze caught the papers she had been grading. She lolled her head to either side, stretching out the sore muscles before glancing up at the nervous-looking boy before her. Pete was fidgeting with the edge of the desk, rocking on his heels and staring at the floor between his feet.
"Is there something I can help you with?" She tried, struggling through a sleepy haze.
"Actually, I've got a-" Peter trailed off, knowing that there was no way he could muster the strength to admit his torture, if it could even be called that.
"No, never mind." He finally said after a pause that made Ms. Philips nervous.
"Mr. Kowalski, what is it?" The words were soft and tender, with just a hint of caring worry.
Pete looked from his feet and into frightened eyes, smiling weakly then averting his gaze again. There was no way, no way he could tell her about him and Gary. If she took it too seriously and had Gary detained, he would never forgive himself, and if the sadistic male found out, he would never forgive him. There was a shiver sent down his spine at the thought of revenge. Not only was the scarred teen manipulative and well-liked by many of the other people at the school, he was cruel to no end.
"Peter…" She tried again, reaching out her hand only to have the pale boy yank away from the contact.
"No, don't worry about it." He said, putting on his best Sunday grin and limping to his seat.
It wasn't long until the bell rang and the other students filed into the classroom, chattering loudly as they settled after their restful night. Pete was having serious trouble keeping his eyes open, and rested his chin on his forearms, staring wide-eyed at his teacher as she continued with her lesson. Her words, soft and mesmerizing, made him doze off almost immediately, and soon he was silently sleeping in his seat.
There was peace for a while, and Pete actually managed some rest before there was a cold, wet sting on the back of his neck. He opened his eyes groggily, seeing that more time had passed than he intended, and the class was almost over. Suddenly, there was that sting again. He moved his hand to the back of his neck and found a little wad of sticky paper clinging to his skin. He flicked it away with disgust and turned to see one of the bullies holding a straw between his lips and grinning wildly.
No, that was impossible. Pete had an alliance with Jimmy, who kept most of the real cruelty away, while his agreement with Gary should have prevented the other little tortures. Yet there he was, spitting wads at him while he dozed, ignoring Gary, which nobody did. Gary was too powerful. He looked at some of the other students around him, all holding back snickers, silently cursing the sadist, slowly realizing that the deal was off.
When the bell rang, he headed straight for the dorm, slamming Gary's room open and flicking on the light. Peter examined the place for a while, Gary nowhere to be found. He walked into the common room, again coming up short, and fumed as he left the dorm, hoping to run into the scarred boy and confront him. As he wandered, the bell rang, but he ignored it and slipped - unnoticed - past the people stalking about with hopes of finding skipping students. He heard a spiteful laugh near the shop, stepping cautiously towards it and into territory that he most definitely didn't belong in.
"Gary." He said, puffing up his chest and trying to look big, only managing to portray an unhappy child.
"Pink-shirt, what a surprise!" Gary sang out with a smirk, amused by his anger.
"We had a deal." There was the hint of a whine behind his tone, and the sadist tapped his chin.
"You breached the contract." Was the simple, bitter reply, and the taller male stood, nodding to the greasers who had been conversing with him.
"How on Earth-"
"Let's go somewhere a little more private, eh?" There were calloused fingers wrapped around Peter's upper arm and he was yanked away from the laughing group behind him.
They walked to the gravel path along the side of the school, away from parading adults that would send them to class and into quiet solitude. Gary led the other male to a dark tunnel, ducking under the wooden fence and "caution" sign to beckon the shivering male towards him. Because he didn't have much of a choice, Pete obeyed and stood in the darkness before the daunting shadow.
"Why haven't you held up your side of the bargain?" Peter cut in after an uncomfortable silence.
"You like it too much." Was the simple reply, and there was a hand on his crotch.
Peter beat his hands against Gary's front, thrashing about in the confining space. His back was against the wall of the tunnel, dirt clinging to his uniform. He wasn't going to let Gary have his way with him when there was nothing to gain.
"Stop, Gary." He said, managing to sound strong and sure.
There was a pause from the male who had his mouth hovering above the buttoned collar of his pink dress shirt. He removed his hand from the groin he had been pleasing, staring intensely into hazel optics.
"You're serious." There was surprise in Gary's tone, and he stood straighter, arms falling slack at his sides.
"You're a manipulative bastard." Peter managed.
There was water welling up in his eyes, but he refused to show Gary such a weak side of him. Before, the sex had been a trade-off, but now, without the deal, it was nothing but Gary's release of stress. He was a tool, he had always been a tool, but it didn't quite occur to him until just then. Pete didn't realize it, but his fingers were fisted around the fabric of Gary's shirt like he was hanging on for dear life.
"I hate you so much." He whispered, and there was a large hand on the back of his head.
No, you don't.
The older male pulled Peter towards him, letting him bury his face in his chest. There was an unreadable smile on his lips when another arm wrapped around the shaking teen, holding him with firmness that he was never able to let go of. Pete broke down at Gary's fingertips, sobbing into cotton while the hand on the back of his head brushed through short hair.
"You're such a baby." Gary joked, and there was another choked sob.
With more force than he intended, the sadist yanked Peter away from him, and he would have fallen into the dirt had the wall not been there. Immediately, Pete buried his face in his hands, half to muffle the noises, half to keep Gary from looking at him. The older male rolled his eyes and turned away, staring out of the tunnel absently. There were a few moments of tension, the hermit crying desperately, the brunette stuffing his hands in his pockets while he waited. When there was nothing but the occasional hiccup from Gary's right, he turned towards him and smiled weakly.
"Come on, faggot." He called, beckoning with an outstretched hand.
Peter eyed the hand like it would have bitten him, then took it tentatively in his own, Gary grabbing roughly and leading him to the gate. There was still a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, but he chose to ignore it and not make his fragile companion shatter completely. He would get his, eventually. They walked, hand-in-hand, until they were almost at the opening that led into the school grounds and Gary glanced at the sniffling boy wearily.
"Meet me in my room tonight, and we can negotiate a new deal." Gary was staring at the space above Peter's head as he spoke, and the other male wiped his face on his sleeve.
"Yeah…" He replied, and Gary hurried away, leaving him sniveling in the cold.
