Life ain't so shitty
There's a lot that you can be
And ain't it a pity
But its alright to smile back at me
And if we both go there
We can count on problems that we might not necessarily
Come in contact with,
Hey wake up, do you know where I'm coming from
-Blind Melon, Life Ain't So Shitty
Chapter Sixteen: Everything and In BetweenThe day was more fun than Race had had at school in a long time. He missed Spot and the band, but David was in a good mood, and so Race and Mush had used it to convince him to torment their chemistry substitute teacher. So he was hurriedly finishing up a fake lesson plan, while Mush watched the door. The only downside was the note in Race's pocket. It was from Tracy, begging him to meet her after morning classes, outside during lunch. Race had an idea what this was about; 'why haven't you asked me out yet Tony?'
'Because I like anal sex. A lot.'
All he wanted to focus on now was making the sub teacher's like a living hell. David finished the plan and dropped it on the desk, and they rushed to their seats as the bell rang. Mush unlocked the door just before the sub arrived and would have noticed it was locked, and Race waited eagerly. Dave had been working on it all morning. He'd even made fake transparencies.
Oh, this was going to be glorious.
The sub walked in and took roll call, and when the whole class was there and no one seemed to be trying to switch names or screw him up, he was suspicious. He introduced himself and the class all smiled and nodded. He was really suspicious. He turned on the projector and the light blew, and David helpfully explained that there were replacements in the cabinet up to his left, which the sub opened, and about seven light bulbs then fell onto the counter, and on to him. They shattered, but he wasn't hurt, and Race turned to gape at David. Who was not just subtle and creative, but apparently, a genius, and kind of malicious. David just smiled cheerfully.
"How did this..." The substitute spluttered as he went to his class plan. "Would someone clean that up?"
"We're not allowed to clean things sir," David spoke up. The teacher raised an eyebrow and stared at him.
"Pardon?"
"We're not allowed to clean things, sir," David repeated. "Because we weren't raised to clean things; our parents get mad if you fix other teachings into our brains sir."
"What's your name?"
"David Jacobs, sir."
The teacher grabbed for his attendance list, and then looked through their marking files. "You have a 98% in Chem."
"I do, sir."
"And Ms. Mullins said you're 'reliable, dependable and responsible.'"
"Thank you, sir."
"So that means...you're serious."
"Of course, sir."
The teacher stared at him. He smiled back, unfazed, and it was incredibly hard for the rest of the class not to start laughing. Because... Well, because David was a goody two shoes and everyone knew it, and he was also terrified of losing his scholarship. David didn't do things like torture substitutes, it was too risky, and he was too nice. No one but Mush and Race knew he had it in him, and while they were less surprised, they were entirely amused.
"Okay." The sub shook his head a little in wonderment. "So where's a broom and dustpan...?"
David pointed towards a cabinet in the back, which the sub went to open, which lead to the shelf inside collapsing from the back, and an entire case of test tubes falling and shattering at the back of the closet. The sub yelped and looked visibly shaken, and Race turned to stare at David.
Who was smiling innocently.
"Why didn't you tell me you're an evil genius?" Race demanded under his breath.
David raised an eyebrow and that was all.
The teacher came back, his hair ruffled, staring in awe at the closet. "I'll call a janitor."
"You have to page one, sir."
"Page one?"
"I'd show you, but that would go against the code, sir. Just shout for one down the hall."
"Make sure when you do," Mush added, "that you yell 'OLLY OLLY OLLY JANITOOOOR' because otherwise they hit you with the mop."
"...what's YOUR name?"
"Michael Meyers." Mush gave his charming, approval winning smile. The teacher then proceeded to check HIS grades.
"Ninety-two..."
"Uh huh!"
"'Sweet disposition'."
"Oh don't make me blush..."
The teacher stared at the door and whimpered. Race wanted to play along, but was relatively sure his, "85 percent; smartass, irritating" note in the book wouldn't do their cause any good. So instead he let David and Mush take turns smiling sincerely and helping the sub make a fool of himself and incur major property damage. By the end of the period, the room was actually in SHAMBLES; David had somehow got the janitor in on it. The sub was just sitting at the desk, shaking his head, having given up entirely. For the first time in recorded history, Race was sad to see chemistry end. When it did, that meant it was lunch, which also meant he had to deal with Tracy..
"What're you going to say to her?" Mush asked, opening his locker to pull out his lunch (home made Greek salad and bottled spring water with carrot sticks and three strawberries.)
Race made a face. "You eat like Sophia."
Mush smiled as he stuck a carrot in his mouth. "And you're gay."
"...uh... What's your point?"
Mush glared at him then, in as much as Mush ever glared at anyone. "NOTHING is my point. You, go break someone's heart. Let's go eat, Dave."
Then Mush went off down the hall. David shook his head and gave the confused Race a pat on the back.
"Not your fault, Tony."
"What was that about?"
"Nothing, don't worry about it." Then David was off as Race started out towards the parking lot.
The school's campus overlapped with the girls' school campus in its extended grounds, including the parking lot and the building with the gym, main auditorium, and cafeteria. Tracy materialized next to Race, matching her pace to his, chewing bubble gum annoyingly.
"Tony!" she giggled. "I wasn't sure you were going to come!"
"Uhm...yeah, about that, I uh..."
"You have a car, right, Tony? Let's go talk in your car." She fluttered her eyelashes at him and he tried not to blanch visibly.
"Actually, my car was stolen."
"No!" she gasped. "How?"
"Mugged." He shrugged.
She gasped again and threw her arms around him, and actually went so far as to kiss his cheek. "Oh you poor baby..." Her voice dropped into a low breathy tone. "I bet I can make it all better."
"Tracy!" he yelped in a strangled voice, and tried to get out of her vice-like grip.
"Whaaaaat?" she said, mock-innocent, trailing her finger down his cheekbone. Race winced, and managed to pull her arms from around his neck, but she kept her hands tight around his.
"Tracy, look..." he trailed off.
"Yes?" she asked hopefully, leaning close into him, her pelvis slightly pushed into his. He really kind of wanted to hurl.
"I uh...I have to tell you that this..." he looked down at their hands, and tried to pull his away, but she was a lot stronger than she looked. "Uh... well, I don't.."
"Tony, I think we make a really, really good match," she leaned close. "Don't you agree?" Then she leaned in closer and it was only because of Race's snake-like instincts that he ducked his head away from her kiss. She caught the side of his mouth, but got the idea pretty quickly. Even an idiot knew when someone didn't want to be kissed. "What's with you?" she asked, pouting, hands now on her hips.
"What's with me is that you stalk me!" he snapped back, pulling away from her and trying to get the feeling of her lips off of his mouth, desperately trying to imagine Spot kissing him instead while not becoming too distracted to talk to her.
"Tony--"
"No, serious, you do. And you act like I belong to you, which is just bullshit, because I don't even like you!"
She stared at him.
Oops. Well, he hadn't meant to actually be mean about it, but...
"You don't like me?" she repeated, her voice wavering slightly.
"Tracy, I--"
"But at that party..."
"I was drunk," he explained uncomfortably. "I'd have... I'd have made out with Michael, I was so drunk."
"Tony, don't even joke about that," she scoffed. He managed not to laugh, wondering what she'd do if she found out that he was actually gay. "Come on, you..."
"Nope." He shrugged. "So... Sorry?"
She stared at him again. He tensed and waited, and then...
"You ASSHOLE!" she shrieked, and they were drawing a significant amount of strange looks. "You, you total jerk! You can't DO that to people, act like you like them and then say you were DRUNK! It's--"
"Tracy, please," he mumbled. "You're causing a scene."
"I'll cause a scene if I WANT to!" she yelled, her voice rising to an octave he was pretty certain only dogs could hear. "You are such a selfish JERK, I thought you really liked me!"
And then she burst into tears and ran back towards the building, and he was basically left with a handful of people staring at him. One of them was Sophia. He threw her a startled look, and she rolled her eyes and walked off in the same direction Tracy had run, he hoped to try and make things better somehow. Though really, he wasn't sure what had happened.
"Jerk!" one girl snapped as he walked by, splashing the remainder of her Snapple in his face. Race coughed, and blinked as the drink dripped onto his collar and tie. But the next thing he knew, a brunette girl was handing him a tissue and asking a bit too curiously, "So, you and Tracy aren't going together?"
"Uh, no," he said, then paused and smiled at her. He winked. "I could never tie myself down to one girl, you know?"
She gave him a look which was far too interested and he wondered why the hell he was responding the way he was when all he wanted was to get to Spot, and the girl reached into her pocket and dug out a pen. "Tracy's a total whore," she said, and grabbed Race's arm. "Here. Call me sometime." She scrawled the number on his hand before he could object, and wrote her name (Elisa, apparently) underneath it. He looked down at it, nodded, and winked. And with that, he started back towards the building. The first thing he did inside was find David and Mush, both of whom were smirking at him.
"Shut UP," he said before they could say a single word.
"I didn't say a word. Did you Mushee?"
"Not one, Davey."
Mush seemed to be normal now; Race supposed David had sorted everything out and played his role of 'Jewish Mother'...which he was very, very good at.
"I wanna see Spoo-oott..." Race whined, stamping his foot.
"Well, I wanna see my Blinkee, so we're both screwed." Mush and Race then glanced at David. Waiting.
"What?" David snapped. "Don't be stupid."
"Look, look, denial." Mush pointed. "That's the first sign, isn't it Tony?"
He and Race huddled, staring at David. "He's holding back; I recognize it, I did it for so long."
"Yeah, you sure did."
"Mush." David gave him a warning glare. Mush stuck his tongue out.
"I say we hang naked photos of Jack up in his locker," Tony mumbled.
"Nah--Keanu Reeves. He could make your DAD gay."
Race almost choked. "My dad is the straightest guy on the fucking PLANET. And since when do you have a Keanu Reeves thing? I thought you hated the Matrix."
"I do. But HE is hot." Mush shrugged. "It's the only thing that makes the movie watchable."
"But more importantly," Race said, "David is gay."
"Yeah." Mush nodded.
David was rapidly turning bright red. "I am NOT!"
"Uh huh. Let's examine your locker, shall we?" Race said. "All pictures of your friends. And which picture is the largest, most prominently featured?"
"Why, Tony," Mush answered, amused, "that would be the picture from their camping trip over the summer."
"The one of you and Jack, shirtless, where his arm's around you and you're holding a VERY phallic fishing pole," Race agreed.
David actually looked like he was hyperventilating and after a few seconds sucked in a deep breath. "I hate you both!" he yelped. "You two are such assholes, you are going to pay for that!"
"I'm real scared, Dave," Race laughed.
"I am," Mush said thoughtfully. "I mean, you saw what he did to the poor Chem sub."
Race paused, then nodded. "Oops, sorry, Dave."
"You will be," David muttered. "And Jack and I are not gay."
Mush and Race were sending knowing looks back and forth to the other rapidly, and then finally looked at David, and said, simultaneously, "Of course you're not."
"Go masturbate, fucker." David poked Race's chest. Then he turned on Mush. "And you go video tape it." Then he turned on his heel and stormed off as Mush turned absolutely RED.
"Looks like we made him super pissed." Race threw his arm around Mush's shoulder. "Good job, Mushee. Now, I'm gonna go masturbate and you can video tape it."
"I will not!"
Race grinned. "Aw, come ooon..."
"No, do it on your own."
"I'm joking, you know."
"Well don't!" Mush made a frustrated shrieky sound. "AUGH, I want Blinkee, everyone is being MEAN to me today..."
Race laughed. "You and Blink are really cute, you know that?"
Mush almost stared at him, but caught himself. "What?" he asked.
"Well, I know I was ragging on you a lot when you two got together, about being obnoxious and all, but you're really not. And hey, he makes you happy, so..." Race shrugged. "I'm glad you two are together."
Mush smiled. "Thanks, I think?" he said.
"Well, y'know. You seemed kinda lonely before. And by 'lonely,' I mean 'desperate.' Fuck, I could swear you were hitting on me, sometimes."
And Mush turned purple. "I'm gonna go apologize to David now," he said quickly and started off. Race jogged to catch up.
"Mush, you okay?"
"You suck, Tony, you know that?"
Race nodded. "People tell me that a lot. But--shit, Mush, you shoulda told me you liked me." Mush turned to look at him, though he kept walking.
"You knew?" he demanded.
"I didn't, I just..." He didn't want to rat out Spot for telling him. "Figured it out, when I started, you know, not being in denial anymore. And... Shit, Mush, you're my best friend. And I don't want there to be anything awkward between us. I think you're great, and I really do like you and Blink together."
Mush, being the emotional little gay boy he was, beamed, and threw his arms around Race's neck, hugging him very close and very tightly and Race thought he was going to choke because he could barely breath, but he hugged him back because it was Mush, and even though he'd never really admit it, he loved Mush almost more than anyone else he knew.
"You sure were a blind idiot."
"I sure was." Race smiled fondly and rubbed his best friend's back. "Hey, I'm glad we never did anything. You're too awesome to be a party make out."
Mush pulled back, still smiling, but more mischievously.
"Hey, I had plenty of opportunities."
"Did not."
"Did so. You can get so drunk you don't know WHO you're with. I could've been Tracy for all you know." Mush leaned in close. "Who, by the way, is spreading around the school that you called her a tramp and broke her heart."
"Oh, well, that's just fabulous."
Mush grinned. "C'mon; let's find Davey before he actually does plot both of our deaths. Seriously, I don't know how he rigged the burner to catch fire like that..."
"He's a freaking genius, that's how." Race and Mush started down the hall, and a comfortable silence enveloped them. Both eased into it, sensing that things were finally going to be...well, not-awkward. Mush, with his small crush on Race that might just always be there, didn't mind now. Because he loved Blink, and really, had a small crush on nearly every movie star in the world anyway.
"Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you and Spot are together too."
Race ducked his head and grinned, feeling the blush creep into his cheeks. "Really?"
"Do I lie?"
"Yes, actually. But you suck at it."
Mush punched him as Race laughed. "Really. I'm glad you are. You love him."
Race snapped his head up to look at him. "What?"
"I can just tell."
"HOW can you tell THAT?!"
"I dunno; some gay guy stereotype about being ultra sensitive or something," Mush answered.
"That's to WOMEN, I thought!"
There was a pause. Mush snickered. Race punched him. "Seriously, though. You two... You just work well. You balance each other."
"What does that mean?" Race demanded.
Mush shrugged. "You just do it. And you're so in love with him, it's way more obvious than you think. I can't believe you haven't been caught."
"We almost were." He paused. "But luckily, it was just Izzy, who yelled at us for being stupid."
"I wish MY sister was that cool with me being gay," Mush sighed. "God, my family is STILL..." He trailed off.
"Oh, Mushee," Race murmured, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry."
"Well, it sucks." Mush shrugged. "But they love me anyway, so it's not so bad." He paused and glanced down the hall. "Hey, Dave! We're sorry."
"You'd BETTER be," David yelled back, but let them walk up to meet him.
"You're so lucky that I didn't completely blow your cover," David griped at Mush. Race sighed, and put his arm around Mush.
"Well, I'm afraid you did. And now Mush and I are..." Race crossed his fingers and stuck them in David's face. "We're off to have rampant sex. YOU are in charge of telling Spot and Blink. Make sure to add that we're really sorry."
"Because we are," Mush agreed. "Now, come along, Tony, we have to do something about your HAIR afterward, because there's only so cute the tousled thing can be."
David stared.
He didn't seem to know whether he should believe them or not. "Are you serious?"
Mush pinched Race's ass. Race cackled and jumped away; he hadn't expected that.
"Totally serious, Dave." He snorted. "Spot's and my sex is WAY hotter than anything with that guy could be."
"I'll have you know Blink's and my sex is VERY hot."
"I do not want to hear this," David muttered. "Remind me again why I'm friends with you two?"
"Because you wuuuuuuuuuuv us," Mush laughed.
"Seriously, though, Dave," Race said. "We mock you and Jack 'cause you're easy targets, and if you ARE gay, that's totally cool. And if not..." He shrugged. "It's all good natured, seriously. Sorry if we pissed you off."
"You did." David glowered, or tried to, but he was actually smiling. "God, coming out of the closet was GREAT for you, Tony; you're all nice and stuff now."
"Hey!"
"That's true, he--" Mush was interrupted when a girl walked by, splashing her Snapple in Race's face and spitting "JERK" and walking on.
Race spluttered and David and Mush burst out laughing.
"What the HELL is a girl doing in here?"
"Lunch isn't over yet, dorkus, she's probably off to see her boyfriend."
"I need a tissue..." Race wiped at his face.
"Go get Spot to lick it off."
"I just wish."
"Would you guys stop with the sex talking about-ing and the innuendo-thing-ing?"
"Innuendo-thing-ing?" Race repeated. "Didn't you get a 760 on the PSAT verbals?"
"Yes, and shut up," David answered.
"Bitter?" Mush asked. "Wait, for missing the other 40?"
"...I got an 800 math, so don't mock me!"
"You smell like Snapple," Mush commented to Race, cutting off the brewing hissy fit.
"Is it good?" Race asked, sniffing the air.
"Kind of apple-y mixed with lemon." Mush shrugged. "Added with lasagna. You always smell like lasagna."
"Thanks..."
"Hey, you guys have band practice after school, right?" David asked, nudging Race. Race nodded. "Okay, good, because I have to talk to you."
"...whaaaat about?"
"I found this flyer, it's in my backpack. There's this club, it's got a local band night coming up, so I figured if you and the guys practiced your asses off, and if you played drums with them more than get distracted by Spot's skinny ass--"
"I like that skinny ass."
"--then you'd be shoo-ins." David grinned. "Hey, if all else fails, you can take turns soloing and Blink can do something erotic with the mike. Stop smiling like that, it's creepy," he said quickly to Mush, who went into 'drooling over Blink with phallic objects' mode.
"It's not creepy," Race defended, which made Mush beam more.
"You're only saying that because Spot looks at you that way when you play. Which is both sweet and annoying as hell."
"You need to get laid," Race answered. He even managed not to add, 'by Jack.'
"Yeah, yeah." David paused. "Yeah; you know anyone?"
Race started to reply without thinking, than did a doubletake and stared. David smirked.
"I hear Tracy Marshall just had her heart broken by some creep; I bet she's feeling all vulnerable right now," Mush mused.
They stared at him. He smirked.
"You two have GOT to stop doing this to me," Race squawked. "'Cause you two used to be NICE."
"Well, you used to be straight. Times change. I'm gonna catch a later bus back, I've got newspaper things tonight, but I'll bring the flyer."
"You're such a freaking 'most likely to own a newspaper'," Race muttered.
"Well you're a 'most likely to...'" David paused, then looked at Mush. "You're most likely to have a nice home and three kids. And a dog. With a husband. What's he?"
"Most likely to fuck you in Italian?"
David pointed. "That's it." He looked at Race, who was shaking his head in slight disbelief. "HAVE you and Spot...?"
"NO."
"How far have you..."
"Go get some sex and leave me the fuck alone!" He checked his watch. "God, why can't the day just end..."
"You need to get laid almost as badly as David does," Mush noted, and they both gave him an odd look.
"What?" he demanded, then grinned. "Everyone should have as much fun as Blink and I do. Hey, I've gotta go finish my history homework; I'll see you in awhile." And he sauntered off smugly.
They stared after him. "I swear to God, if I didn't have to hide from my family, Spot and I would so be having so much sex..." Race grumbled.
"Yeah, I really don't need to hear any of this," David sighed. "WHY can't I be friends with straight guys?"
"Davey..." Race made an innocent face. "Could you do me a favor?"
"...depends on what it is."
"Help me do my Chem homework instead of going to gym? You hate gym. You only take it for extra credits. So you should skip it and come help me do Chem."
"Don't you have history?"
"I sure will skip it."
David bit the inside of his mouth. "Fine, but only if you write me an excuse note for tomorrow. Your excuse notes rock. Do you bring one from yesterday? And how's your elbow? Did they hit it hard? I forgot to ask you what it's like to be mugged."
Race snorted. "Oh Davey, it's so fun."
"Come on, library. No one can splash you with Snapple in there."
"...thank you."
"You're welcome, Anthony Higgins."
Race grinned and walked off with him. He wondered if being in love always made everything this much more pleasant than it had seemed before.
Mush's car was nice, but not as nice as Race's, which was why Race was still sulking that his car had been stolen. Which it actually had. And there was still no word on it being found, and he really, really didn't want to have to live without a car. Which was why, by the time he and Mush pulled up in front of Blink's house, Mush was just as glad to get rid of him. Yes, everything was pleasant when you were in love, but that didn't mean that everything was as pleasant as it could be if you were in love with your own car.
His car had really rocked.
"God, I need to seriously make out with Blinkee after listening to you bullshit and complain for like, what, half an hour?" Mush shoved him and locked the car.
"God, you're such a baby sometimes." Mush didn't say anything despite seeing Spot walk quietly up behind them, grinning and motioning at him not to say anything.
"I am not being a ba-YAYby-" Race yelped, and jumped slightly as Spot poked his sides sharply, remembering just how ticklish Race was. Race turned around and punched his shoulder (the 'non injured' one) and growled, "DON'T."
"And there was the re-appearance of Antonia." Spot put his hands in his pockets and smirked. "Hey Mush."
Mush laughed as he walked by them. "Heya Spotty."
"FuckingHATEbeingtickled," Race pouted, shoving Spot as he walked by him. "I want to play drums NOW," he demanded, walking into the open garage. Mush and Blink were hugging.
"YOU'RE reminding me of a two year old today." Itey rolled his eyes as he tuned his bass.
"Nah, it works for Tony," Dutchy grinned.
"Antonia," Spot corrected, following Race into the garage, and then punching the button that brought the door down. "It's freaking windy out."
"You're such an old man," Blink said, his arm still snaked around his boyfriend's waist as the door came down. "'It's cold, it's windy, the sun is too bright...'"
"Fuck you, Blink," Spot answered and punched him.
"Back atcha." Blink punched him back.
"OW, that was my SHOULDER you FUCKER. And it's like the sixth time you've done it!"
"Well, be less annoying." Blink grinned.
Spot glared at him, then turned to Mush. "So, done anything embarrassing in the restroom of your gym lately, Mush?"
Mush stared at him for a second, then began to turn purple. "BLINK!" he yelped.
Blink winced, then looked at Spot menacingly. "Asshole," he muttered. "Hey Tony--"
Spot tackled him and threw a hand over his mouth. Race gave them a strange look, then turned to everyone else in the room.
"Have they been like that long and I just never noticed?" he asked.
Dutchy shook his head. "It's just today, man. I think they're on drugs."
Spot and Blink were still wrestling and finally looked up. "We bonded in study hall," Blink explained.
"Heh. Bondage," Spot muttered. "Marcus." And they both started cackling.
"Okaaaaay," Mush said. "Our boyfriends have both gone insane."
"Yeah, I hear Tony sure does with the Italian," Blink said very quickly. "Loudly, too, but hey, what are towels for?"
Spot swore and punched Blink again in the stomach before Race turned beat red and stared incredulously at Spot. "You DICK."
"He wormed it out of me." Spot was grunting slightly, wrestling with Blink. "What can I say?"
"How about NOTHING?"
"But you're fun to talk about..." Spot thrashed around slightly; Blink hand managed to pin him to the couch, remarkably, since they both knew Spot would win in an actual fight. "Let me go, damn it."
"Nah, I don't think so," Blink said.
"BLINK!" Spot yelped indignantly.
"Blink," Mush sighed. "Would you knock that off, so I can say a proper hello?"
Which did the trick, and Spot was unceremoniously dumped on the couch so Blink and Mush could make out. Which was really okay with both of them, and also with Spot, who grabbed Race's shirt. "Door's shut," he murmured, and Race glanced around. The only way to see in through the garage would have been through the windows on the edge that faced towards the next house over, which were coated in a thick layer of grime. He doubted there was any way they could be observed, and grinned and climbed on to the couch. More importantly, on to Spot.
"We are WAY hotter than those two," Spot noted and rolled over, pinned Race beneath him, and began to kiss.
Dutchy and Itey stared at each other.
"Great," Itey said bluntly. "Now what are we supposed to do? Watch?"
"I'm in." Dutchy turned to look as Spot started to inch up Race's shirt, revealing a very flat and toned stomach. "Oh, that's nice Italian..." he murmured.
"Come on, let's go get food or something..." Itey shuddered and grabbed Dutchy's wrist, dragging him through the door that led into the back of the house, muttering something about Blink's garage being a whorehouse.
"Hey." Blink pulled away from Mush and turned to Spot and Race, who were growing more intense on the couch. "HEY."
Spot flipped him off and kept kissing.
"HEY."
"What?" Race snapped, turning his head. Spot just went to his neck.
"This is OUR make-out place, get your own."
Race was silent, and stuck his tongue out and started pulling off Spot's shirt.
Mush and Blink groaned and then followed Dutchy's and Itey's actions in leaving the room. "We'll be back in FIVE."
"Ten!" Race panted out.
"...FINE. ASS."
"I love our friends," Race mumbled as Spot pulled Race's shirt off and began to trail kisses down his chest. He sighed happily and began to mumble in Italian without thinking, then remembered what that did to Spot and began to do it a bit more clearly, a little louder, and Spot didn't know it, but he was making some very dirty offers.
"Fucking... God you're..." Spot mumbled, unable to finish a thought or a sentence, and Race sat up a little, reached to kiss Spot, but Spot pinned him back on the couch and slid one hand down to undo his belt. Race's eyes went wide but Spot kissed him hard, then trailed a line of kisses down his neck. Race felt himself breathing very hard, losing his concentration to the point where he couldn't talk anymore at all, as Spot kept kissing his way down, over his chest, his abs, and laid a hand on Race's loosened pants.
"Spot..." Race said quietly, unsure, but Spot just slid his pants down and began to kiss his way down Race's pelvis.
On the other side of the door, Jack was listening intently. "One sec..." he held his hand up to make Dutchy and Blink shut up while Mush and Itey just shook their heads in disgust. "Okay, Blink, you get twelve bucks, because Tony's talking COMPLETELY in Italian."
"Of course." Blink held his hand out to Dutchy. "Cough up. And hurry, I'm gonna go mack with my boyfriend for a bit before we get practicing."
"At this rate..." Itey grumbled.
"No serious, we'll be quick. I'LL be quick," Blink promised.
"I'll make it quick," Mush agreed.
"GOD GO AWAY."
"GEEZE, Itey..."
The two of them hurried off to Blink's room, as Itey just kept shaking his head, rambling about 'inappropriateness' and 'how much he wanted to see Sophia'.
"Jesus, Sarah has no libido," Jack said jealously.
"She never wants to do anything but talk about what I do wrong. I haven't even gotten tongue for like, two weeks. Hell, she barely kisses me."
"I've been too fucked up to get laid," Dutchy added, popping some gummy bears into his mouth.
"I never get to see Sophia..."
"Yes you do!"
"Not as much as I want to..."
"Oh cry me a river." Jack smacked his head. "How could she like you over me? I don't get it..."
"Well, he's less of an egomaniac," Dutchy noted, and grinned as Jack smacked his shoulder.
"Don't worry, Dutchy; he just wishes David was here to comfort him. I'm sure David is less frigid than his sister."
"ITEY!" Jack yelped. "You're supposed to be the NICE one!" He paused and leaned towards the door, and then his face turned bright red and he leaned back away quickly. "I did NOT need to hear that."
"Hear what?"
"Tony isn't talking in Italian anymore."
"What, he's dirty talking in English? Let me by, I fucking gotta hear that," Dutchy demanded, and leaned past Jack to get to the door. "Okay, all I hear is some moaning, but..." He trailed off.
"Yeah..." Jack said. "He's... too gone to talk."
"Woah," Dutchy said. "Woah, that's so hot."
"Okay, this is sick, I am NOT listening to them or you. I'm gonna go watch TV," Itey declared and ran out of the room.
"So," Jack said after a second. "We probably shouldn't listen in on this, that's kind of sick."
"Yep," Dutchy agreed, then sighed. "God DAMN I'm horny."
"Me too." Jack groaned and slunk away from the door. "I'm gonna go find Sarah and apologize for whatever she's mad at me for. I don't even remember what it is. When David gets here, tell him I'll probably be at his house, okay?"
"Sure thing, Jack," Dutchy agreed, smirking.
"DON'T say it, we're STRAIGHT."
"Suuuuuuuure you are."
"Shut up and go get laid."
"I would, but Tony's busy and has a boyfriend."
Jack stared at Dutchy.
Dutchy shrugged.
"Right, well, how about I don't mention you said that to Spot?" he suggested.
"That sounds like a good plan," Dutchy agreed. Jack started to go, but then hurried back and listened at the door with Dutchy.
"They gotta be almost done, I might as well--"
"Yeah, right. You're just as perverted as I am."
"I'm just curious as to--EW, GOD. Brother doing nasty things, going now." He hurried off. "I can't BELIEVE I forgot it was my BROTHER in there for christsake..."
Dutchy was still listening to the moaning going on at the other side of the door. And heavy breathing. Then Itey walked back in, shaking his head. "Nothing good on TV?" Dutchy asked without moving his head.
"Nothing," Itey responded, and began to rummage around in the kitchen for the ingredients to make a sandwich. "Also, it's close to Blink's room. And Blink is loud. So would you stop being weird and talk to me instead?"
"One sec, I think he's almost--"
"For crying out LOUD, don't be GROSS."
"But it's WEIRD and interesting and I don't know what it IS about those two, but they're freaking compelling." He popped more gummy bears in his mouth and finally pulled away from the door. "Wow, they sure do--"
The moan on the other side of the door wasn't REALLY loud, but it was loud enough that both of them could hear it faintly without trying. Itey closed his eyes and scrunched his face. "Find happy place find happy place..."
Dutchy gave his back a pat. "I can't believe I LISTENED to that, I am such a--"
"ASS?"
They both turned their heads sharply to see a shirtless Spot staring at them through the slightly opened door.
Dutchy was speechless. Itey was trying to hide his laughter.
"You sure as hell are a loud listener," Race from further back in the garage.
Dutchy stared at the two of them in shock.
"God, at least Jack LEFT, but you are a serious pervert," Spot muttered. "And you interrupted what was about to be a VERY nice blowjob so I'm kind of pissed." He crossed his arms and glared.
"So why didn't you--?" Dutchy started.
"Because you were LISTENING, fucker, and that would have been..." Race stopped, and shuddered audibly. "Just too fucking weird."
Dutchy shrugged. "Yeah; Jack and Itey are right. I really need to get laid." He grinned. "But hey, since I'm celibate at the moment, I don't see why you two shouldn't suffer with me. They did teach me in rehab that sharing pain makes it easier to deal with."
A long silence passed between them, and then Spot slammed the door in his face.
"HAH." Itey smirked. "Come oonn, leave them alone. Okay? Tony wants a blowjob."
"I sure DO," was the muffled reply from the other side of the door.
Itey grabbed Dutchy's wrist and said loudly, "We're GOING. I'm dragging him away, be quick!"
"Fuck off!" was the hurried, and somewhat panted response from Spot, so Itey assumed they'd better get the hell out of there. Itey dragged Dutchy into the living room.
"So," Dutchy mumbled, sounding kind of hesitant and quiet.
"Yeah?" Itey asked.
"I've kind of got this problem."
"Cocaine?" Itey asked wryly.
"Aside from that." Dutchy leant against the couch back and looked a little nervous. "How the hell do you get rid of a crush on a guy you absolutely can NOT have a crush on because NOTHING good could come of it?"
Itey hesitated. "You wanna fill me in on--"
"Tony. Is hot, and gay, and saved my life. You really want more details?"
"No, that's fine." He shuddered a little. "Yeah, don't want to know anything else. Pervert."
"Hey, I'm not..." He stopped. "Well, okay, the door thing was a LITTLE perverted."
"A little?" Itey raised an eyebrow and Dutchy looked uncomfortable, then covered by stealing half of Itey's sandwich.
"So, any thoughts?" Dutchy asked.
"Yes." Itey folded his arms across his chest. "I actually can kind of see why you'd have one. I mean, you two do have your...weird...connection. Because of drugs." Itey reached for a cracker. "And I know you might be...well, might've been dead if it weren't for him, but Dutchy, think clearly, he and Spot are really into each other, you know? I think you're just suffering from hero worship."
Dutchy chewed loudly, before reaching for Itey's sandwich again (only to have Itey slap his hand away). He didn't say anything a moment, and finally sighed. "I hope you're right."
"I am. Don't worry. Remember when you had a thing for Spot?"
"Hey, we actually hooked up. And it was hot."
"AND when you liked Jack?"
"What's your point?"
"My point is, don't jump to conclusions." Itey patted him on the back. "Everything'll be fine, and stop eating my food." He snatched the rest of the sandwich as Dutchy reached for it, and shot Dutchy a smug look as he chewed.
Spot watched Race carefully.
Race's eyes were shut and he was sprawled on the couch, still naked, a euphoric smile on his face... for a second. Then it faded and Race blinked rapidly, then opened his eyes wide. "Oh my god..."
"You okay?" Spot mumbled.
"Fine," Race answered, almost snippishly. "Just... I'm fine. You rock."
Spot smirked. "I sure do."
"And I fucking love you."
"Awww. That's so cute."
"Shut UP." Race groaned. "I'm fine, I'm better than fine, I'm awesome, I just... You... I've never done anything like that before."
"Oh," Spot aid, shrugging. That wasn't exactly the sort of enthusiastic reaction he'd been hoping for, but before they could actually discuss it at all, there was a loud banging on the door.
"Can we freaking REHEARSE now, please?" Itey yelled from the other side. Because Itey was the only one who wasn't with his significant other and hadn't attempted
to live vicariously through those who WERE.
"Uh, give us a minute?" Race called back. "We kind of need to get dressed."
Spot pushed his boyfriend off of the couch, and Race just grinned cheesily as he grabbed his jeans and boxers and threw them on. He'd, thank God, changed before he got to the garage, into his jeans and Tony Bennet tee, because the last thing he wanted was for Spot to have a school boy fetish.
He quickly rebuttoned his pants, still feeling wonderfully post-orgasmic, but at the same time kind of freaked out. It felt good, he loved Spot, but... It just felt like thing with Spot were moving so fast, he'd barely gotten used to the idea that he had a boyfriend, and now they were screwing around pretty damn heavily.
With his pants on, and shirt in hand, he gave the okay for everyone else to join them, and pulled his shirt on. Except that Spot couldn't find his shirt.
"I thought you were done?" Dutchy asked, watching Spot scurry by him, looking for it.
"Where the fuck did you throw it, Mario?" Spot pushed his boyfriend.
"I dunno, I didn't notice, I was busy thinking about something else."
"BLINK, MUSHEE!" Itey yelled. "COME ON!" Dutchy started playing a silent Stairway to Heaven while Itey tried to help Spot find his shirt. Which really seemed to have disappeared. Race, quite content with his boyfriend being shirtless, offered no assistance and went over to his drumset. Blink and Mush appeared a moment later, Blink
looking very happy, and Mush very flushed indeed.
"Sorry for the wait," Mush said, giving Blink's butt a swift smack. "Go to your mic, baby doll."
"On it." Blink kissed his neck and then walked over to his mic, which was unplugged and in it's stand close to Dutchy, who quickly plugged it in. Blink stopped mid step when he saw Spot.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Looking for my SHIRT."
Blink hesitated, then looked at Race, who was very smug, for all he was also feeling kind of confused. Then he looked at Spot, who was very relaxed, and very shirtless, and very sweaty. "So, you're all caught up, then?" he asked, amused.
"Sure am." Spot leant over to check under the couch, which left Race with a very nice view. He whistled, and Dutchy sighed.
"He needs to eat more; he's too damn skinny."
"I happen to think he's fucking HOT," Race answered.
"I am fucking hot and I can't find my fucking shirt."
"Gee, that's too bad," Race noted, then, "Oh, and Dave thinks he might have found us a gig, by the way."
There was a long silence, as Itey, Dutchy and Blink all snapped their heads over to the drumset, and the suddenly freaked looking drummer, who hadn't expected all of them to react so oddly.
"What?"
"A gig?" Blink said in awe.
"...yeeess."
"But...but...WHEN?"
"I dunno, he'll get me the flyer. Soon, I'm thinking." Race started tapping at the high hat. "No worries, we just have to--"
"PRACTICE PRACTICE PRACTICE!" Blink exclaimed. "YOU." He pointed to Itey. "Tune faster. YOU." He turned to Dutchy. "Play slower! YOU." Blink rounded to Race. "You rock."
"I so do."
"Okay! LET'S GO."
"Good god." Spot made a face. "Mush, I'm so sorry, you seemed to have forgotten your dog's muzzle at home."
"Oh shut up, he's perfect," Mush snapped, taking a spot next to him on the couch while Blink continued barking orders at everyone. "You have very pretty skin by the way."
"Why thank you."
Mush poked his shoulder. "It doesn't seem bruised, what exactly happened to it?"
Spot shrugged. "They twisted it some. It's super sore, but it's not bruising, so the doctor said it's just a sprain or something. I don't know, I wasn't really listening, he had bad teeth and I had to freaking look away."
Mush laughed and Blink glared at them.
"QUIET. We have to practice. Baby," he said seriously to Mush, "please don't distract me right now."
"Oh, right, because I just have a tendency to whip it out on a regular basis," Mush snorted.
"I wish," was Blink's response before he turned back to his mic and started tapping at it to test the volume.
"Why don't we try the song Itey wrote?" Dutchy suggested. "We haven't perfected it yet, we might as well get it down. We got my song down last week, so..."
"We'll practice everything. ITEY."
"What?"
"Where's the keyboard?"
"Over there. Would you settle down?" Itey blushed. "I don't wanna sing my song right now...it's embarrassing and personal and her brother is right here and he hasn't heard it yet."
Race suddenly looked very skeptical. "What is this song about?"
"Nothing. No one."
"Sophia," Dutchy supplied, and Itey kicked him.
Race stared. "What?"
"I wrote a song about her! It's not a crime! She heard it..."
"When?"
"On our date, I played it on acoustic guitar. I suck at guitar, but---"
Dutchy kicked him back then. "You don't suck, you're fine. Now come on, show Tony the song."
"NO."
"YES," Race snapped, grinning, enjoying how much fun it was to freak out Itey.
Itey turned an interesting shade of red, and then purple, and then finally settled on a nice, deep pink. "Do we have to?" he half-whined.
"Well, we gotta work out a drum part for it anyway," Dutchy pointed out.
Itey sighed. "Okay, fine," he said, then turned to Race. "It's kinda... Slow and ballad-y. It needs something, like, smooth and unobtrusive 'cause it's... lyrical and stuff..."
Race raised an eyebrow.
"Shut up!" Itey squawked again. "GOD I can't believe I have to play this with other people..."
"We're not famous enough for you to solo," Blink said, then added, "YET."
Race just grinned. "So? Start singing there, Blinkee."
"Nuh uh," Itey interrupted. "The song is for Sophie; I love you Blink, but I'M singing."
"Great," Blink nodded. "You guys work on it. I'll critique." He sat down on the couch between Mush and the still shirtless Spot. "And make out with Mush. So take as long as you like."
"...What happened to your panic?" Dutchy asked.
"Watching Tony torture Itey is more fun."
Itey was playing with the bottom of his shirt, still blushing. "It's not gross or anything, I promise. I didn't do anything gross with your sister."
"Would you just freaking sing the song?" Race adjusted his high hat a little. "If I thought you were gonna be writing gross songs about my sisters, I would have ended this long ago." He shot a look up at Itey. "But it better not be bad, because if you wrote a bad song about my sister..."
Itey whimpered.
"It's not bad, serious!" Dutchy insisted. "If we get a drum beat and Blink can remember how to freaking play keyboard--"
"I took lessons when I was SIX, how am I supposed to remember?"
"Whatever, would you just sing?" Race demanded. Itey paused, then cleared his throat and began to play and sing, and Dutchy joined in a minute later and they didn't quite blend because Dutchy was still too fast and Itey was too nervous from singing, and attempting to sing and play at the same time (which he almost never had done before). But Race began to nod along with it, and had to agree that the lyrics were sweet.
"Okay," he said when they were done. "First; I officially approve of you dating Sophie if you're gonna be that nice to her forever--"
"Forever?" Itey interrupted, looking suddenly slightly panicked.
"YES and you'd BETTER be planning to get married because if you break up with her or do something sufficiently asshole-ish that she wants to break up with you, I'll kick your ass," Race answered. Itey 'eeped!' a little, and he continued. "But second; Dutchy, seriously, you're racing there."
"Well, give me a freaking beat then, drummer boy."
Race smirked. "Okay, I will." He picked up his sticks again and played around for a minute. "Something like this okay?" he asked Itey, who listened intently, and began to play.
"Nah, a little more..." he gestured vaguely, not sure how to articulate, and Race nodded.
"Right." He adjusted, and Itey grinned.
"Perfect."
They tried through the song again, and though Itey was still nervous, his voice actually came out. It wasn't Blink, no one touched Blink's vocals, but his voice was very sweet, and kind of soft but loud at the same time. It worked for the song, and it worked for diversity, and Race really felt kind of excited because...well, it sounded GOOD.
If they kept practicing...
Finally, they finished up with the song ending on a major acoustic cord provided by Itey, and then Race turned to Mush, Blink and Spot on the couch.
"Good?" he asked, as Itey continued to blush furiously and Dutchy started quickly searching about for the new strings he bought earlier that day during lunch--because his E string looked on the verge of snapping.
Blink nodded his approval, though he did have a fair amount of criticism and ideas, most of which was spot-on for perfecting things. Spot and Mush were just smiling and agreeing, and Spot was staring at Race, the way he always did when Race played drums. And Race stared back, the way he always did when Spot wasn't wearing a shirt. So really, it worked out pretty well.
"So what else do we have today?" Blink asked. "Anything new?"
"Uh," Dutchy said, looking up from where he was replacing his string.
"Yeah?"
"Well, uh. I've kind of got something I've been working on, it's not much yet but it's... I've got a melody, and I attempted lyrics but they're serious shit."
"Can't be that bad," Blink answered.
"I wrote them in rehab," Dutchy explained. "While going through withdrawal, and generally hating the world, 'cause... Yeah."
"Yeah." Race nodded.
"They made me, god, I can't believe... They told a bunch of fucked up teenage junkies to, 'express our feelings through the use of poetry and art.' So it was my fucking poem, but... God, it's bad."
Race nodded sympathetically. "Hey, they made me paint my feelings."
"Yeah?" Dutchy asked.
"Yeah. Black canvas. Dark red blood spatters. That was all."
"You were pissed, I take it?" Itey mused.
"They were making me paint my feelings," Race repeated. Dutchy started laughing, and they looked at each other and half-smiled at the thought of what was sort of a shared awful experience, which no one else got. "And they took away all my cocaine," he added.
"Fuckers," Dutchy agreed.
Blink reached for the nearest thing he could find, an old copy of Rolling Stone, and chucked it at Dutchy.
"I'll kick your ass," he warned, then turned to Race. "Yours too."
"Hey, we're both clean," Dutchy protested. "Really. Anyway, yeah. Back to the business at hand."
"I want to run through some of our stuff first," Blink said. "Can you have your song down and learned by tomorrow?"
Dutchy nodded, tuning the new string, and strumming a cord. "Yeah, sure. You know, Itey, you should consider singing that publicly to Sophia on your one month."
"But she's heard it," Itey responded, going to his bass and leaving the acoustic next to Spot on the couch. "Guard that."
"I sure won't. Mush, get on it."
Mush shoved Spot.
"I don't know what to do for our one month yet, I'm working on it." Itey shrugged, and avoided eye contact with Race. Race felt vaguely uncomfortable, but really, wasn't about to back out of this conversation.
"Write her another one and if we get the gig, sing it solo for her there." Race shrugged. "And you're done. Oh, and flowers. And take her to dinner. "
"Speaking of which," Mush spoke up. "Blinkee, my birthday is soooon."
"I know." Blink winked at him. "I don't forget. Finish tuning, will you?" Blink said to Itey. Itey hurried it along.
Things went smoothly for quite awhile; the next major interruption for rehearsal was halfway through the second run of their next song, which Blink had written. About being the Class Fag, and Mush really looked like he wanted to do some major comforting by the end. Because while the song definitely had a few moments that were amusing, the majority of it was heartbreaking and really, Blink expressed himself much better in lyrics (which he had time to polish) than in casual conversation.
Race's phone started ringing. Blink stopped singing and glared at him, and he apologized quickly and dove for it because... Well, usually when someone was calling it was his Dad, and usually that meant he was in trouble. He hoped he hadn't lost track of time, but no, he still had plenty of time left. But it was his dad...
"Ciao," he said calmly, wondering what was going on.
"They found your car."
Race listened intently and spoke only occasionally for the next few minutes, hung up, and grinned. "So," he said. "Guess who's getting a new car?"
"WHAT?" Spot demanded, which was basically the feeling of everyone else in the room.
"Well, they found my other car. Trashed. Totally. Beyond all hope of repair. And my dad is definitely not stupid enough to let me have such a nice car without taking out MAJOR insurance on it, sooooo..." He grinned.
"You SUCK," Blink sulked, which was, again, basically the feeling of everyone else in the room.
"You sure are going to blow me in the back seat," Spot said to Race, then grinned and shivered. "I'm cold, someone get me a shirt."
"Wait wait, you just get a new car just like THAT?" Dutchy demanded as Blink took off his hoodie and chucked it over to Spot, who grabbed it gratefully. "What are your limits?"
Race shrugged. "I dunno. Not over a million dollars? I just get a new car. I so rock."
"You so SUCK," Dutchy answered. "I haven't had a freaking car at ALL since I totaled the wagon..."
"And every other driver on the road is grateful for that," Itey answered.
"Oh, shut up. I can reapply for my license in another six months." He paused, "Shit! I've got the whole felony drug thing now, I fucking can't. My life sucks."
"Oh, it does not."
"...and I haven't been laid in three months. My life does suck. God. I need a girl, or a boy, or fucking someone..."
"Or better yet, someone to fuck?" Spot suggested.
"HELL yeah."
"Okay, can we get back to rehearsing now?" Blink whined.
"Yeah--"
Race was interrupted when the door from the house burst open and Jack emerged with his hands in the air. "Guess who got laid!"
Everyone made disgusted sounds. "Oh GOD, Jack, not HERE." David, who came in behind Jack, looked equally disgusted. "That's my sister for crying out loud. Blink, I got--"
"The flyer?" Blink rushed towards him. "Let me seeeeee!"
Blink and David started looking over the flyer, and Race took this moment to go and sit by Spot and flop on top of him lazily. Spot glanced down at him.
"Hello."
"Hey." Race grinned. "You look cute; that hoodie's too big for you."
Spot snorted. "I'm not cute, I'm sexy."
"And cute."
"Go away."
"Nah." Race stretched out on him. "I'm comfy. And those two are planning. So Jack." Race turned to him. "You and David screw, eh?"
"NO. SARAH, damn it. SARAH!"
"Yeah sure." Race yawned and snuggled into Spot. "I'm tired..."
"Hey, wait." Jack turned and stared at them, then rolled his eyes. "YOU don't get to make fun of me, you got my brother MUGGED."
"Jack--" Spot started, and Race sat up and put a hand on his shoulder.
"It wasn't my fault," he said flatly. "And--Jesus, Jack. Let's go talk outside, huh? Don't want to argue in front of the kids." Race rolled his eyes, and Spot glared.
"Yeah," Jack agreed.
"You two are NOT--" Spot started, but Race shut him up by kissing him.
"We'll hurry, okay? And we promise not to actually hurt each other."
"Like you could hurt me."
"I could make you cry, Kelly. Let's go outside."
Jack nodded and lead the way back through the house, as the garage door was still shut, then turned around and faced Race expectantly as they stepped into the living room. "Jack--"
"Tony," Jack snapped. "I don't fucking like you, you're an asshole, you're a snob, and you're spoiled, and you're a fucking drug addict and I don't want you hanging around my brother, who's fucked up enough as it is. He doesn't need your 'help'."
Race resisted the urge to shove him. "LOOK," he snapped. "I l--" he couldn't quite say love, not to Jack. "I like your brother, a lot, and he means the fucking world to me. I'm trying to stay off drugs and, hey, he helps. It wasn't either of our fault that we got mugged."
"Everything ELSE is your fault," Jack snapped. "Okay? Sean is so totally in love with you that he doesn't even SEE how bad for him you are. I sure as hell ain't about to sit around and watch you take my brother away from me. And thanks to you, Dutchy almost died, I don't care what anyone says, you fucked up that night, and you can't compensate for it. You piss me off, Higgins. You have NO idea."
"I didn't do a goddamn THING to Dutchy," Race snapped back. "Fuck you because you all saw the fucking symptoms and it doesn't take a coke addict to know one. And the fact that YOU didn't give a damn until he landed himself in the hospital isn't MY fucking fault, I'm just your damn scapegoat, but it wasn't my fucking fault!"
"Yeah? Well you sure as hell didn't help any," Jack answered coldly.
"No, I didn't," Race answered. "But NEITHER did YOU."
Jack grabbed the front of Race's shirt, pushing him slightly into the wall, obviously losing his control--if he'd had any in the first place. "I've been there for him for the past eight fucking years. Through all of his fucked up family situations, to every single fucking puny paper cut. All you did was snort some coke and freak out Mush so we could call 9-1-1. At least I was there AT ONE POINT." Jack clenched his teeth. "Then you show up with your fancy car and your stupid Italian fucking family--"
"DON'T insult my family," Race snapped.
"Your father is a dickhead who did nothing but--"
"I DEFENDED you that night, asshole!" Race pushed at Jack, and Jack was surprised to find himself tumbling back a little. "You wouldn't fucking believe what I went through."
"We've all been through shit!" Jack yelled. "But you get the easy ride out because you're a little rich boy!"
"I got an EASY GODDAMN RIDE?" Race yelled back, not caring that they could probably be heard inside the garage. He had wanted to keep things civil, for Spot's sake, he hadn't wanted this fight. But he just plain couldn't take this. "You just shut the hell up, you don't know a damn THING about what I went through. You fucking DON'T KNOW and wouldn't care if you DID because your head is too far up your ass to see how much I like Spot. I'm not fucking dating YOU and I really don't give a shit if you hate me, I just want to make HIM happy so if you don't like me at least be civil enough to your own damn brother to leave me the fuck alone."
Jack stared, and finally averted his eyes, biting the corner of his cheek. Race noted he was clenching and unclenching his fists, and felt himself tense up, getting defensive--just in case.
"Fine. Fuck you," Jack's voice snapped harshly. "I'll be fucking civil, but only because of Sean. That's the only goddamned reason." Jack looked him over. "He deserved a fucking lot better than you."
"Yeah? What are you so damn afraid of, that I'll spend too much money on him? Cook for him too often or treat him too well? What the FUCK is your problem, all I want to do is be WITH him."
"You asshole," Jack snarled. "YOU'RE my fucking problem, you're selfish and arrogant and he deserves someone who'll LOVE him."
"I fucking do love him," Race hissed. "So you just keep your goddamn mouth shut."
Jack blinked a little, obviously surprised. He shook his head. "You what?"
"You heard me," Race replied, angry that Jack had made him admit it within earshot of all of their friends. "So would you back the hell off? I'll take care of him, okay? I'm not going to fuck him over and if I can help it, nothing will ever break me and Spot up." Race shook his head. "And I don't care how hard you try, but I'm not backing out, because I've never loved anyone before, and it's goddamn real and I need him. And I want to see him. So fuck you."
Jack cracked his knuckles. "You're such a prick."
"You're such an asshole."
"You suck."
"You wish I did."
Jack made a face. "We're not on joking terms, Mario, so fuck you."
"Fine, Kelly, we're not."
Jack sized him up one last time. "You'd better fucking be for real about this."
"I. Am." Now Race was just annoyed; he didn't know how to prove how serious he was other than by being serious, and Jack refused to admit that was even possible.
"You'd BETTER be."
"I AM. Jesus, even I'm not this fucking protective."
Jack snorted and opened the door. "...I still don't fucking like you."
"Back at you."
Race followed Jack back inside where, as expected, everyone was watching the door, waiting for them. It was kind of funny because as soon as they walked through it, everyone IMMEDIATLY busied themselves with other things. Dutchy started strumming happily on his guitar, Blink was poking at the microphone, Mush was tying his shoelaces, Itey was whistling and shuffling his feet, David kept clearing his throat and hiding his face in a magazine, and Spot was...
Well, glaring at the both of them.
"Hello you two," he snapped.
"Hey," Jack and Race said at the same time, and then they glared at each other. Race hurried over to his drum set, sat down, and went nuts.
Everyone took it as a good sign that he and Jack hadn't exchanged blows considering how hard Race was pummeling the drums.
Race's drum playing seemed to improve Spot's mood greatly, which was a good thing because it improved his own. He couldn't help but feel a bit better about the world when Spot was looking at him like that.
Of course, the fact that he and Spot were sharing significant looks certainly served to make Jack's mood worse, but Race didn't care. He didn't really care about anything at that moment, except Spot. More than anything, he wanted to be with Spot, in Spot's arms, not necessarily doing anything, just together. He wanted to be able to bring Spot home, introduce him to his family as his boyfriend; have them smile and accept Spot into their home.
Which he knew would never, ever happen. And Jack fucking thought he had it easy... He threw a look at Spot, who smirked back and licked his lips, and Race almost threw a drumstick at him. "Ass," he muttered.
"Um, if you two are done fighting, and YOU two are done giving each other looks," Blink interrupted, "could we get back to actually rehearsing now?"
"Yeah." Race sighed, and did a quick fill. "K, quick go."
"...what?"
"Just GO, I need to freaking play." Race flipped his sticks in his hand. "Spot?"
"What?" Spot asked, glancing up from looking through a dirty magazine with Mush.
"Come see a movie with me after this."
"K." Spot turned back to the magazine. Blink and Race gave each other 'looks' (their boyfriends WERE looking at porn together) and finally started off playing.
Jack pouted in his seat next to David, who sighed. "I hate everything," Jack yelled to him, though it couldn't really be heard over the music. David understood anyway. He put his arm around him, and Jack leaned into him slightly, but extremely self cautiously because of all the jokes they'd been getting all day.
The music settled down, and Spot frowned. "Shit," he muttered.
Race gave him a questioning look.
"I'm fucking grounded." He rolled his eyes.
"Yeah; for some reason Mom was pissed at you. Something about disappearing without a trace."
"It wasn't without a trace, asshole, I was at my boyfriend's house. Is it MY fault you're too stupid to look there?"
Race smirked a little and pretended to adjust his drumset wile they fought. He knew he shouldn't like that they were fighting, he didn't want Spot to be unhappy about anything, ever. But he was glad Spot was sticking up for him and for himself.
"Tony," Spot said after a long, awkward quiet, because Jack didn't have a comeback. "You should come watch a movie at my house instead."
Race shrugged. "Uh, okay," he agreed. "If my dad'll let me."
Jack snorted and Spot shoved him, sent him sprawling into David, who squawked in a very undignified manner.
"I didn't say ANYTHING," Jack snapped at Spot.
"I know, that was a do-you-mind-if-he-comes-over type of shove, jackass."
"Oh. Whatever." Jack straightened up and then slumped again, against David, sulking slightly.
"You can always eat dinner at my house, now that you and Sarah are talking again," David offered kindly.
"Sure." Jack looked over at Spot, who was smirking, then at everyone else in the room. Who were also all smirking. "I hate you ALL."
"But we know who you looooo-ooove." Mush sang. Jack gave him the finger, and finally, stood up and stretched.
"I'm pissed off right now and I only want to talk to Davey--David." He cleared his throat. "So screw you all, I'm going to David's."
"Uh, but I--"
"Come on David."
"Fine." David snorted, and rolled his eyes. "Grumpy..."
"Brat."
"Hurry up and GO, we have a practice to finish!" Blink snapped, and Jack half-dragged David out of the room.
Itey made an annoyed noise. "Blinkee..." he said, checking his watch. "I have to pick up Sophie soon, I gotta go."
"WHAT?"
"Yeah, and I better call my dad and see if I can go to Spot's." Race winced as Blink swore.
"But we have a GIG--"
"And we got a lot done today," Dutchy said for him. "We'll be fine. Tomorrow, we'll focus more. No blow jobs, no fooling around in your room."
"Hey, no blow jobs?" Spot snorted. "I might as well not be here at all then."
Race smiled at him. "I so can't wait to have a car again," Race answered, as he moved from the drumset to find his cell phone and hit the speed dial for his father, nervously. His father would probably not want him to spend the evening at Spot's. He probably wouldn't like that at all...
His father picked up.
"Dad?" he asked, and wished everyone wasn't listening in. Though really, he could switch to Italian if things got bad enough, which he hoped they wouldn't. "...Yeah, I was just invited to Sean's house for awhile and... Please Dad, I finished all my homework in study hall... Dad! That's not-- Yes, sir... No; I didn't fail it, sir, I-- .... Yes, I'll study tonight, I swear to--No, I wasn't taking the Lord's name in vain, I was--...I'm sorry, Sir... Please, it's just--... Thank you. Sir. Thank you. Yes, I promise. Thank you."
He hung up and ignored the awkward looks he was getting until, "You call him sir?"
"Yes I fucking call him sir," Race answered, and looked up at Blink, who'd asked the question. "You met him."
Blink nodded and shrugged a little. "Yeah; yeah. Just... Man, I can't picture ever being that polite to my dad."
"Your dad is a prick," Dutchy said, strumming goofily at his guitar before turning off the amp. "But hey, wait..." Dutchy turned to Race. "So's yours."
Race wanted to defend his father, remind Dutchy that if it wasn't for Mr. Higgins, he'd probably have been on his knees, scrubbing floors in Juvie Hall. Then he remembered that Dutchy was never, EVER, to know about that.
Race shrugged. "A prick who's letting me go to my boy's house, so he's flying pretty straight with me at the current time." Race threw a grin at Spot. "Hey, since Jack won't be home--"
"Denise will. Oh." Spot shrugged, and then stopped talking, realizing he was about to tell Race that Denise wanted to meet him with the other guys around. "Nnnnevermind. Tell you later."
Race gave him a strange look, and shrugged. "Okay," he agreed. "So do we want to play anything else or--"
"Gottapickupsophiabye!" Itey fled the garage with a wave, bass in one hand and his bookbag in his other.
"Well, that answers that question," Blink sighed, the turned to Dutchy. "My dad is not a prick. He lets me throw parties, buys us alcohol, and lets us practice in the garage."
Dutchy shrugged. "Right; because he does that for the sake of being a great father."
"Shut UP."
Race wanted to ask what that was all about, but decided it would probably be an insensitive question.
Besides, given how close Blink and Spot seemed to be all of a sudden, he could always pump Spot for info later. (And he amused himself by thinking about how much that sounded like a euphemism.)
"Hey, Tony."
Race glanced up as he stuffed his drumsticks into his backpack, wincing when he heard the cracking noise; he broke drumsticks more than any other drummer he knew.
"What?" he replied to Blink, who was grinning far too mischievously for his tastes.
"Itey really REALLY likes your sister now; you know that, right?"
Race raised an eyebrow. "I'm not stupid. Yeah, I know."
"So, uh..." Blink lowered his voice, even though Itey wasn't there. "So come on, you gotta give us some dirt on Itey."
"...what?"
"For as long as we've known the guy, he's never liked ANYONE. Never dated ANYBODY," Dutchy supplied, clearing up the mess they'd made during practice. "So now that he does, it's our duty to make his life as annoying as humanly possible."
Race considered. "All I know is how stupid Sophia is acting."
"So? He drops her off--stake them out. How many times do they kiss? Is there tongue?"
"They've kissed?" Race snapped. "How many times?"
"Itey says they haven't, but he's embarrassed to talk about--"
"I'll kill him."
"Emergency subject change," Blink broke in. "Spot, baby, I love you in that shirt."
"Yeah; it's yours," Spot pointed out.
"I know. I have amazing fashion sense. It's too big for you."
"...You're either really stupid or really unobservant or both."
"Shut up."
And then they started laughing again.
"Okay, so those two are now officially insane," Mush decided, then looked at Blink. "Let's get dinner somewhere tonight."
Blink nodded his agreement, and they started off together; Spot and Race also stood. Dutchy sighed from the floor, where he was finishing packing up his guitar. "Great, you four go have fun. I'm gonna sit in my house, you know, alone, and stare at a wall."
"Have fun with that," Spot said, and Race whacked his shoulder.
Blink rolled his eyes. "GEE, Dutch, you wanna come WITH us?"
Dutchy grinned. "Aw, I knew you loved me." He paused. "Threesome?"
"Fuck you."
"See, that's my point."
"Pervert."
Dutchy laughed and the five left Blink's garage for the afternoon.
F: Wow, this chapter took a lot longer than it should have for very painful, awful, suicidal reasons. SERIOUSLY.
B: My computer died. It DIED and I had no computer and then I almost died!! And then the chapter had to be reformatted TWICE and since it's freaking twenty-five pages long, that took forever, and really, if I never read this chapter again, it'll be too soon.
F: Don't take that as a sign that we don't love our ficcie...
B: We adore it. But dude, it's 4 AM and we've been formatting since 11:30. So now, we're going to bed. Ta ta.
F: This chapter was celebrated with craisons, frosted flakes, crackers and cheese.
[As always, thanks to TSB for beta-ing and making snarky comments.]