9. Instigation

Now, of course Jimmy won the race. And of course Pete found someone to take a bet on whether Jimmy would win it or not and doubled their money. So it made perfectly good sense to go to the Yum Yum Market and buy a bunch of unhealthy food, walk by the drive-thru for dinner and then retire to Jimmy's Beach House to feast their success.

If he could get the door open.

"What the heck is this place?" Pete questioned, almost irate, as Jimmy dug a bit of scrap metal into the doorframe in lieu of a key.

"The damn wood's swelled," he grumbled, answering another question entirely. "It's my hideout."

"Right," Pete remarked sceptically. "Which you got... how?"

"I won it in a boxing match," he answered cattily. "Boxed out half the preps an' they said I could have this because the holiday home in the Vale was too good for me or somethin'."

"That doesn't sound like much of a legal exchange," Pete felt obliged to comment, and Jimmy gave a huff.

"What does it matter?" he snapped, digging the tool back into the frame. "Oh, fuck this!" he declared at last, taking a step back and putting a full-force kick into the door, which splintered open with a horrible shriek. The salty air might've corroded the hinges some.

"Nice," Pete asided just a little too haughtily, and Jimmy whipped round.

"Don't you start!" he barked, then realised he was snapping and took a breath. "Sorry," he delivered with a roll of his eyes. Pete could be a little too smarmy for his own good sometimes. "If you wanna go back to scho-" he began, but Pete was already walking in.

"Wow, this place is actually kind of cool," he announced as he paced through, looking around at the decayed grandeur of the beach house. Jimmy's temper had just rolled off his back this time, which was a good thing if there ever were one.

"I told you!" Jimmy burst, and Pete had the nerve to turn around and give Jimmy an acrid look. "Fiiine," he dismissed with another roll of his eyes, following Pete in and shoving the door as shut as it was likely to ever go again.

He dumped their spoils on an abused card table and took a seat, digging out a burger and awarding himself a much-awaited bite. The sun gave him an appetite, to say nothing of the damn bike race he fought tooth and nail to win... literally. He'd probably chipped a tooth taking a smack to the face while speeding downhill at 20mph.

Pete joined him and for a moment there was quiet while they mutually stuffed their faces. The fast food wasn't exactly not made of feet and tails, but at least they'd only died once, compared to the school canteen's version of reanimated matter.

"So was this a date or not?" Pete suddenly sprung on Jimmy half way through his fries, and he almost inhaled one, coughing it back up and drowning the shock in soda.

"Why'd you care all of a sudden?" he asked hoarsly. "You got an issue if it was?" Maybe he was getting cold feet.

"No, I just-" Pete hesitated. "I can't always tell."

"Does it have to be that clear?" he responded. In fact, he wouldn't mind a bit of distinction himself, but it was hard to draw a line and he sometimes thought of going flirty then had second thoughts and backed off at the last minute.

"I wouldn't mind," Pete answered wryly, around which point Jimmy threw a fry at him. "Hey!" he scolded, throwing one back. Jimmy dipped one in ketchup and lobbed that, missing Pete narrowly. "Jimmy!" he preached, and it was distraction, but it was working. Better than struggling through awkwardness again.

Soon they were into an all-out war, with most of the fries ending up wasted on the floor, but it wasn't like this place was fancy enough for anyone to give a shit. Jimmy imagined that the seagulls would be in to clear up as soon as they left.

Pete was smiling, laughing, and doing the things that came naturally to him that made Jimmy sort of want to fall down on the floor and roll around with his face in his hands a little but, but he did none of those things. Instead he put one elbow on the table and filled his lungs, one breath to prepare, one to do it.

"Hey," he indited. "You still wanna know if it's a date?" Pete was watching him more seriously.

"Sure," he answered, so Jimmy lowered his hand and hooked his fingers under Pete's chair, dragging it next to his in one quick shunt.

Pete was totally still, as he was in the habit of being when things went beyond his comfort zone, but Jimmy couldn't be swayed now. He had to do something or the whole idea would fall out of the sky and they'd just have been friends all this time with some needlessly awkward conversations. So he put his hand on Pete's shoulder, flat across it with his arm to Pete's arm, warm like it'd sucked up the heat of the sun.

Pete was looking right at him, their faces not more than a couple of inches apart, but Jimmy left it there, looking back straight into Pete's eyes, the tension tight as guitar strings. He moved forward very slightly, twisted a little to one side so his forehead touched Pete's; settling into rest, he leaned skin-to-skin and lowered his eyes. He might have been this close to Pete some time before, but never this intimate, never this direct in statement. It was enough, more than enough, just to stay like this losing track of his heartbeats, feeling just like he could – but wouldn't – move a fraction closer and kiss him.

"I'd like if it was a date," he said, choosing his words more carefully than he usually did. "If you would."

"Okay," Pete breathed, close enough for Jimmy to see the creases on his lips.

"Just okay?" he said, not removing the proximity and releasing the pressure-valve.

"I mean... yes," he admitted. "It can be a date."

For the first time Jimmy actually believed him; that he wasn't just saying it because he was Pete and could be pretty – maybe too – easy-going. It'd by his style to get shenaniganed into a relationship because he had no real objections. Jimmy smiled and raised his hand, then touched it to the side of Pete's face; thumb to ear, palm and fingers loose around him.

"Good," he declared, then with a scrape of his chair pulled back and moved away. Pete looked not dissimilar from when Jimmy had punched him.

"That's it?" he suddenly pronounced, and Jimmy dipped some of the few remaining fries and bit off the ends.

"Why, you want more?" he posed, and that buttoned Pete's lip very effectively for a minute or so. Pete surely knew that everything was on offer if he happened to want it. They finished their food as the sun went down and the stifling summer air became a warm evening one. Jimmy felt unweighted, not least by getting the first steps towards something more serious started without Pete totally locking up.

"Let's watch the sunset," he declared suddenly, watching the shadows creeping along the floor through the dirty beachouse windows.

"Wh... really?" Pete queried. "Why?"

"Dunno," Jimmy replied. "There's only one a day, isn't that enough of a reason?"

"There's only one sunrise too, but I didn't see you up at 6am watching it," Pete countered, being cheeky and difficult as he was prone to do on occasion.

"Yeah well we're here, the water's there," he narrated. "Why not?" Pete shrugged, eating cold fries more out of boredom than want, but rose when Jimmy did all the same.

They went out onto the edge and perched on the boardwalk, legs dangling off the end and watching the sun carve through the clouds and toxic fumes as it dropped below the horizon.

"It's pretty, I guess," Pete remarked vacantly.

"Ohh, how romantic," Jimmy leered. "You, me, the sun... all alone like this." He was acquiring a hyperbolic note, but that was okay because he wasn't trying to be serious.

"Yeah, yeah, Jimmy," Pete droned.

"Seriously, gimmie your hand," Jimmy badgered on, almost hurting his cheeks trying to hold the grin down. "Why, my heart's just racin'," he delivered, adopting a shitty southern accent.

"Shut up!" Pete said through laughter, whipping his hands out of Jimmy's grasp like hawks chasing doves. He squirmed and shifted and seemed impossible to get a hold of, which only made Jimmy more determined to try and get him.

"True loves met by moonlight," he taunted, one arm almost-round Pete and the other trying to pry one of his hands out from under his arm.

"That's the sun, dumbass," Pete retorted, and Jimmy didn't like his language one bit, even if it was delivered with a grin. He tried to get at Pete more insistently, but then gave up and shoved him off the edge instead. "Jimmy!" he squawked, flailing as he started to fall and grabbing one of Jimmy's legs below the knee.

Perhaps realising that he wasn't getting back up, or maybe retaliating in general, Pete's next effort was to drag Jimmy off the pier with him, a feat he clumsily achieved. As they both rolled into the sand, Pete landing worse of them and ending up on his back, Jimmy felt like it might be nuts or stupid and likely both of those and more, but things were going well and he loved a winning streak.

So instead of getting up, he moved on hands and knees and put one arm over Pete, hovering above him in the dimming light. Pete watched him with an expression that seemed something like interest, which was better than dread, but still worse than anticipation. However, Jimmy was getting used to Pete being curious instead of all the normal emotions he was primed to expect. Or he was used to telling himself it wasn't a bad thing. Curiosity could work.

He waited until he really wanted to, then with efficiency and speed he bent his arm and lowered, dropping his mouth onto Pete's for really no more than a second or two, though he did linger enough to make sure it was a kiss. He pulled back, checked Pete's countenance for the damage – reasonable, it seemed – and moved away to sit up, while Pete slowly righted himself.

"Hope that was okay," he said directionlessly, looking ahead and trying not to bury his mouth behind his hands.

"I was gonna say the same," Pete replied, tucking up his knees and resting his arms on them. "I'm not much of an expert with, uh... at that. Or any kind of expert," he babbled on, and then something occurred to Jimmy.

"Wait," he seized. "Was that your first kiss?" He didn't need an answer when Pete's face dipped so quickly behind his arms the moment Jimmy said it. He'd assumed – assumed that surely he had, because in Bullworth it seemed like everyone had. Or almost everyone. "Oh," he sighed. "I didn't know, I'm sorr-"

"You don't have to apologise," Pete interrupted, calm although his face was still obscured by his arms.

"Well... yeah, but I coulda... I didn't mean to just go an' do it like that," he fumbled. First kisses were meant to have more significance, or at least the other person should know it. "Do you want to go again?" he offered in what he thought was a helpful way. He could put in more effort and make it something more than a quick, unimpressionable peck on the lips.

"I'm okay for the moment," Pete excused politely, and with his phrasing Jimmy didn't feel quite so rejected. It wasn't a no, just a 'not now', which he could live with. They were quiet for a moment, drowning in everything not being said. "Why'd you like me so much?" he asked finally, not looking up, and barely raising his voice enough to be heard.

Jimmy let out a long breath, dug his hands into the sand and shifted up next to him, leaning in until he could rest his head on Pete's shoulder, temple measuring the weight of the contact.

"I don't know," he confessed. Pete's shoulder didn't give way but supported him, allowing him to press with more weight. "You're nice."

"Is that really enough of a reason?" Pete questioned timidly, letting Jimmy fold against his side like kneading dough. "There's other nice people." Not as nice as him, Jimmy knew. People who could be nice, but not ones who were good all the way down through hell or high water.

"It's more than that," he elaborated. "I can trust you." But he trusted other people too, and that was surely what Pete would've said. "It's hard to explain," he stated before they rolled into the same circles of ask-and-respond.

"Can you try?" Pete pressed, but he was letting Jimmy drape all over him so there was something for both of them.

"Thing is," he began, digging some of the bullets out of his past with a penknife to drop into Pete's palm. "I move around a lot, an' even when I came here it was just people wanting stuff and fighting." Trying to keep his head up while pushing down the rat bastards who needed pushing.

"So?" Pete prompted gently.

"Well, it's been a while since I was settled enough to have friends," he explained, pulling the truth out of the lump in his throat where all these things had been stuck. This was one reason why it had to be Pete and not someone else; he couldn't say these things to just anyone. Pete would never judge him for admitting to isolation or loneliness, because he knew them as well. "You're pretty much the first person to just be my friend an' not want something."

Pete didn't ask him for anything, there was never any 'help me, Jimmy', it was 'can I help you?' and he actually, really fucking appreciated that. Even with Gary, when Pete could be a nag, there were never any errands to run on Pete's behalf; it was Jimmy he'd been looking out for.

"And that makes you want to be something more?" Pete suggested, with his way of phrasing things that made Jimmy wonder if maybe he was as stupid as people seemed to think.

"We have fun, don't we?" he questioned back, and jiggled as Pete shrugged.

"Sure," Pete agreed. "Not like I've had loads of friends either."

"Then what's the problem?" Jimmy said, enjoying just being close and comfortable without it having to be going somewhere. He didn't need to prey on Pete the way he did with others, he was just content to let things happen.

"I just wonder if it's too convenient," Pete commented. "Like, is it because of me specifically, or just because I'm here."

"It's you," he insisted. Pete undersold himself a lot. Jimmy hadn't had best friend in a while. Zoe was like a best friend, but their dynamic was different, she had other friends going back way before Jimmy being here.

Jimmy wondered if maybe it was just him; that he wanted to sleep with anyone who got to being a 'best friend' because it seemed like the logical next step. He wondered if Pete had a point.

"I guess I can't really see it," Pete admitted shyly. "Why would anyone wanna date me?"

"You gotta stop overthinking," Jimmy advised. Or he'd get Jimmy doing it too and they'd be going nowhere good. "It doesn't have to be complicated. I like you. That's all." They didn't need a list of justifications half a mile long. Sometimes things just happened.

"Yeah," Pete agreed weakly. Maybe he just couldn't trust a good thing when it happened to him. If Jimmy liking him was a good thing, the jury was still out on it.

"So I suppose we should go back to school before curfew," he remarked boredly, still slumped on Pete's shoulder with a comfortable ease.

"I'm not much of a Head Boy if I break the rules," he responded, and Jimmy sighed. He'd liked this, but it did have to end, so he picked himself off Pete and clicked out his neck.

"All right, goody-two-shoes," he baited, rising up and stretching. "Bus stop it is."

They didn't wait too long on the waterfront, hopping on an half-empty bus for the free ride back to Bullworth. Jimmy, feeling bold, decided to slump his arm along the back of the double-seat almost like he was putting it around Pete, which seemed to make him rather flustered.

"Jimmy," he said under his breath. "What if someone sees?"

"Sees what?" he replied confidently. "There ain't nothing to notice." Just two friends sitting side-by-side on a school bus together. For now. Pete almost hit the roof when Jimmy bent his arm and pinched his earlobe on the sly.

"Jimmy," he hissed, but Jimmy only sniggered.

"I do like it when you do that," he commented, and Pete composed himself and raised an eyebrow.

"Like what?" he asked.

"You going 'Jimmy, Jimmy' all the time," he teased, little bit of parody in his tone. "Feels good when you're ringing my name like a bell." If he wasn't mistaken, maybe it was just that Pete had caught the sun, but it looked very almost as if he blushed, looking down at his feet and going quiet in that way he did.

"Well, what else am I meant to call you?" he pointed out, and Jimmy smirked as he moved his arm just a half-inch closer so his forearm was flush to the back of Pete's shoulders.

"I dunno," he remarked theatrically. "Baby, or sweetheart, or I always liked the idea of sugardaddy-"

"How about dumbass?" Pete suggested caustically, and Jimmy cuffed him round the back of the head – playfully, of course. He was through that stage of actually hitting Pete, hopefully. Which still haunted him, as a warning of what he was capable of.

Obviously once they were on campus it was back to being a pace apart, and regardless of whether or what he felt like it, Jimmy wasn't going to risk kissing Pete in the dorm where just about anyone could see and his business would be pasted all over the school like eggs on Halloween. Plus given what he'd found out, he felt like he ought to be more careful about if and when he was going to go down that path, especially if Pete was a total rookie.

As they exchanged a friendly goodnight and parted ways, Jimmy realised that they had a long way to go.