(no subject)
Title: Left
Rating: PG-13(ish)
Pairing/Characters: Characters- Peter
Summary: Peter is set up on a date, will it work out, or be a total drunken disaster?
Note: The word "bubby" is used which is a nickname deriving from the words "hubby" which means husband, "baby" and "boyfriend" :). Please comment. :)
Disclaimer: Not mine...still.
“My name is Peter” I say clearing my voice and reaching out my hand. The aura in the room is calm and romantic; a single white cloth is draped over the table, two candles stand gallantly flickering.
“Bryan” he stands up and shakes my hand. Just like his picture, he had black hair that was styled in a Mohawk with tips that were colored a rosy pink.
“Pleasure” I smile and try to think of some ice-breaking small talk. “So, how did you and Ivy meet?” it seemed like a fair question to me, after all if she was going to set me up on a date, I should at least know how she met him. Incase it was at jail or something. Not like Ivy had ever been to jail-had she? Well, I suppose she could have when she was younger, before she went to our school. Do they even kids to jail? Of course they do. Well maybe not big person jail-but they have a jail for kids. Maybe. But surely we would have known that she was a delinquent, right? I mean there’s no way that they would have let a criminal into a Catholic school without telling the other students.
“-and that’s when I first talked to her.” Damn. I missed it-there’s no way I can ask him to tell it again, it would admit that I wasn’t paying attention. “Kind of a funny story, huh? I mean with the elephant and all” Elephant? How did that fit in? Stupid Peter-stupid. Stupid. Stupid. If you had been paying attention you would know the answer to that. Just move on-forget about it-it’s too late. Mental note: ask Ivy how they met later.
“Yes” I fake a laugh and a smile, “That’s a much more interesting way then how we met” For heaven’s sake, Peter! You agreed not to bring up the past. Now he’s going to ask you-
“How did you two meet?”
“We went to school together. She probably doesn’t talk about it a lot.” I try to sweep the conversation under the rug, the way one might do with a pile of dust, but he continues the conversation.
“Oh no, she does” God. “She talks about the parties you would have and how it totally makes sense that a Catholic school would party so hard because you have so many repressed feelings. She also talked about her roommate Nadia,” Oh, Nadia. Mental note: call Nadia this weekend. “Some guy named Lucas, this dude named Matt, who like loved and worshiped her. Then there was you and your roommate-what was his name again?”
“Jason.” It’s going to be a long night-I order two “Sex on the Beaches” and a glass of red wine, the wine is to just seem proper.
“Right, that’s his name. He’s the father, right?” I blink feeling the moisture build up in my eyes. My hand that is under the table automatically moves over to my pocket. I rest my hand silently over the compartment.
“Yeah, it was a one time thing.”
“Seems to me like he was a real jerk leaving her behind to take care of a child.”
“He left more people then just those two”
“What happened to him? He moved away, right?”
“Yeah. He, he, uh, he left.”
“People like him are why our world is falling apart” I want to get mad, I am mad. This guy doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know Jason-my Jason. He’s just heard stories. He’s heard Ivy’s memories-that’s his only source. Ivy. All of the information he’s getting comes from Ivy. Does she talk bad about Jason? She’s not really one to talk bad about people, maybe she learned how to in jail. Mental note: Casually bring up the subject of jail to Ivy and see her reaction.
“He wasn’t that bad of a guy. He was actually really nice”
“Can I ask you something” Sure, I’ve already ruined the night.
“How did he react when he found out his Catholic roommate was gay? Did he totally freak out on you?” Ivy must not have told him a lot.
“No. He…” I can’t speak for a moment, how much do I want to tell this Bryan kid? How much does he deserve to know? All words have been stripped from my mouth and I babble on for a little bit more. “He, uhm” Do I tell him everything? “He uh…” do I tell him nothing? “He really didn’t care that I was gay” and he certainly didn’t mind the sex either. I order another drink.
“Ivy told me he was all about the women. ‘A real womanizer’ I think was her exact quote”
“Look, I don’t know what Ivy told you, but he wasn’t that kind of guy. He was very sensitive, and kind. Sweet too, and so tender.” I get lost in my words. I get lost in a trance.
“What was he? Your boyfriend?” He laughs, and I go along with it “No, man, it’s chill. He was just your best friend and you don’t want me ragging on him, I understand” I let the subject drop and the moment the subject is changed is the moment everything is okay again.
I was never one for drinking back in high school, Jason always called me a light-weight, so it should be no surprise that after only a couple of drinks I had loosened up a little bit more then I wanted to. Things began flying out of my mouth that, frankly, really shouldn’t have been cleared for take-off.
“For being a straight woman she sure did have an eye for picking out cute gay men, just like she did with…” my voice trailed off, “Jason.”
“Seriously,” he laughs again, this time I’m straight faced “were the two of you fucking?” it’s a joke-I know this-but I don’t care.
“Yes.” Silence. Mental note: Don’t ever drink on a date again. “I probably should go.” We are still waiting on dessert, but I just want out of this place. I throw two twenties on the table, “I hope that takes care of it.”
“Wait, Peter, please wait. You’re really nice and I really like you. I’m sorry if what I said offended you in anyway at all. I promise, I didn’t mean to” I know he’s sincere.
“I think you’re nice too. But I can’t stay. I just can’t.” And I’m being sincere, and he knows this so he just nods, his way of telling me it’s alright to leave.
As I meander back to my car and plop down in my seat I pull out the thing in my pocket. A picture of Jason in his baseball uniform, he has that reckless grin taped on his face. I trace his outline with my finger.
“Happy Birthday, bubby” I say and kiss the photo. “I will always love you first”
Rating: PG-13(ish)
Pairing/Characters: Characters- Peter
Summary: Peter is set up on a date, will it work out, or be a total drunken disaster?
Note: The word "bubby" is used which is a nickname deriving from the words "hubby" which means husband, "baby" and "boyfriend" :). Please comment. :)
Disclaimer: Not mine...still.
“My name is Peter” I say clearing my voice and reaching out my hand. The aura in the room is calm and romantic; a single white cloth is draped over the table, two candles stand gallantly flickering.
“Bryan” he stands up and shakes my hand. Just like his picture, he had black hair that was styled in a Mohawk with tips that were colored a rosy pink.
“Pleasure” I smile and try to think of some ice-breaking small talk. “So, how did you and Ivy meet?” it seemed like a fair question to me, after all if she was going to set me up on a date, I should at least know how she met him. Incase it was at jail or something. Not like Ivy had ever been to jail-had she? Well, I suppose she could have when she was younger, before she went to our school. Do they even kids to jail? Of course they do. Well maybe not big person jail-but they have a jail for kids. Maybe. But surely we would have known that she was a delinquent, right? I mean there’s no way that they would have let a criminal into a Catholic school without telling the other students.
“-and that’s when I first talked to her.” Damn. I missed it-there’s no way I can ask him to tell it again, it would admit that I wasn’t paying attention. “Kind of a funny story, huh? I mean with the elephant and all” Elephant? How did that fit in? Stupid Peter-stupid. Stupid. Stupid. If you had been paying attention you would know the answer to that. Just move on-forget about it-it’s too late. Mental note: ask Ivy how they met later.
“Yes” I fake a laugh and a smile, “That’s a much more interesting way then how we met” For heaven’s sake, Peter! You agreed not to bring up the past. Now he’s going to ask you-
“How did you two meet?”
“We went to school together. She probably doesn’t talk about it a lot.” I try to sweep the conversation under the rug, the way one might do with a pile of dust, but he continues the conversation.
“Oh no, she does” God. “She talks about the parties you would have and how it totally makes sense that a Catholic school would party so hard because you have so many repressed feelings. She also talked about her roommate Nadia,” Oh, Nadia. Mental note: call Nadia this weekend. “Some guy named Lucas, this dude named Matt, who like loved and worshiped her. Then there was you and your roommate-what was his name again?”
“Jason.” It’s going to be a long night-I order two “Sex on the Beaches” and a glass of red wine, the wine is to just seem proper.
“Right, that’s his name. He’s the father, right?” I blink feeling the moisture build up in my eyes. My hand that is under the table automatically moves over to my pocket. I rest my hand silently over the compartment.
“Yeah, it was a one time thing.”
“Seems to me like he was a real jerk leaving her behind to take care of a child.”
“He left more people then just those two”
“What happened to him? He moved away, right?”
“Yeah. He, he, uh, he left.”
“People like him are why our world is falling apart” I want to get mad, I am mad. This guy doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know Jason-my Jason. He’s just heard stories. He’s heard Ivy’s memories-that’s his only source. Ivy. All of the information he’s getting comes from Ivy. Does she talk bad about Jason? She’s not really one to talk bad about people, maybe she learned how to in jail. Mental note: Casually bring up the subject of jail to Ivy and see her reaction.
“He wasn’t that bad of a guy. He was actually really nice”
“Can I ask you something” Sure, I’ve already ruined the night.
“How did he react when he found out his Catholic roommate was gay? Did he totally freak out on you?” Ivy must not have told him a lot.
“No. He…” I can’t speak for a moment, how much do I want to tell this Bryan kid? How much does he deserve to know? All words have been stripped from my mouth and I babble on for a little bit more. “He, uhm” Do I tell him everything? “He uh…” do I tell him nothing? “He really didn’t care that I was gay” and he certainly didn’t mind the sex either. I order another drink.
“Ivy told me he was all about the women. ‘A real womanizer’ I think was her exact quote”
“Look, I don’t know what Ivy told you, but he wasn’t that kind of guy. He was very sensitive, and kind. Sweet too, and so tender.” I get lost in my words. I get lost in a trance.
“What was he? Your boyfriend?” He laughs, and I go along with it “No, man, it’s chill. He was just your best friend and you don’t want me ragging on him, I understand” I let the subject drop and the moment the subject is changed is the moment everything is okay again.
I was never one for drinking back in high school, Jason always called me a light-weight, so it should be no surprise that after only a couple of drinks I had loosened up a little bit more then I wanted to. Things began flying out of my mouth that, frankly, really shouldn’t have been cleared for take-off.
“For being a straight woman she sure did have an eye for picking out cute gay men, just like she did with…” my voice trailed off, “Jason.”
“Seriously,” he laughs again, this time I’m straight faced “were the two of you fucking?” it’s a joke-I know this-but I don’t care.
“Yes.” Silence. Mental note: Don’t ever drink on a date again. “I probably should go.” We are still waiting on dessert, but I just want out of this place. I throw two twenties on the table, “I hope that takes care of it.”
“Wait, Peter, please wait. You’re really nice and I really like you. I’m sorry if what I said offended you in anyway at all. I promise, I didn’t mean to” I know he’s sincere.
“I think you’re nice too. But I can’t stay. I just can’t.” And I’m being sincere, and he knows this so he just nods, his way of telling me it’s alright to leave.
As I meander back to my car and plop down in my seat I pull out the thing in my pocket. A picture of Jason in his baseball uniform, he has that reckless grin taped on his face. I trace his outline with my finger.
“Happy Birthday, bubby” I say and kiss the photo. “I will always love you first”