(Untitled)
Week Name/Date/Time: 'This is Rather Not Good'/Friday, September 29th/ 7.27pm
Location: Grounds
Open to: Brinley
Currently Involving: Andrew
( And nothing would be the same )
Location: Grounds
Open to: Brinley
Currently Involving: Andrew
( And nothing would be the same )
His eyes cut as really, give a man a break, would he?
Oh, but did they ever cut more. Illiad had been deemed as a 'No No Subject' for young Andrew Frazer. Brin simply wasn't going to let the git badmouth him, not one bit. Anything he might have done that could have been seen as far-fetched had been Brinley's own fault. His little manipulations and twists, they forced Illiad to do things like blackmail and threaten anyone that came near his boyfriend. "Good on him, then," he replied, looking annoyed as arms folded over his chest. "Merlin knows the lot of them need to know that you've apparently chosen to be gay all of the sudden, what with you and Louvika Hawkins and all." Pausing, he leaned forward for a moment and lifted a finger into the sky. "By the way, she's female in case you've not noticed. Kissing her doesn't back up your Gay Parade much at all, you know."
Oh Merlin, they had hardly just began and Brinley was already weary of it all. Still trying to pass the blame on to Illiad or Brinley or anyone except for himself, was he? Pathetic.
"I've already told you," he replied cooly, despite the expression on his face being far from icey enough to match the tone. "I didn't tell Illiad a thing, bitch-boy. Why the bloody hell would I tell him about that? Illiad sort of has issues with me messing about on him, especially with filth like you! Logic, Frazer. I know you two have never been such good friends, but you might think to get well-acquainted. Might keep you from looking daft in moments like this."
Oh, but wasn't that a delicious detail? Did he actually sound let down that Brinley hadn't gone off to find him again? Had he gotten his little hopes up?
Aw.
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He didn't get time to dwell on the matter as the Slytherin launched on. "So why the bloody hell would I tell him? I don't want people to know what happened as much as you do, if not more. And I didn't even know he was gay, let alone your boyfriend."
A sudden thought struck him. "Does he have an invisibility cloak?" He glanced around him as if he could actually tell that someone with an invisibility cloak was standing near by, which he obviously couldn't. "Oh man," he moaned, "what have I got myself caught up in?"
He felt the air around him and mumbled in what would have been a comical way, if either of them had had a decent sense of humour at that moment. "Hooking up with a Slytherin with a boyfriend with issues and an invisibility cloak, what were you thinking Frazer!"
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Like he'd know what sort of squirrelly thoughts rushed about in Andy's mind? Merlin, he'd rather not even try to figure out what went about in there. It was apparently some dellusional world where people could just waft about with their sexuality and openly brag about trysts with Slytherin elitists.
"Whatever. He found out somehow, and it sure as bloody hell wasn't by my doing! The last thing I'd ever want to do is brag about you. And I'm not suprised to hear that you somehow missed the memo on him being gay. Perhaps one day I'll find out that he, too, snogs females while waving little rainbows of support, much like yourself! Won't that make for a jolly good day? Apparently I attract your lot, the 'Oh, I think I might be gay - perhaps I'll make out with Brinley Watson, who would rather like to blast my face off, just to see!'"
Yeah. He apparently hadn't been too happy the moment Louvika herself spilled that lovely little tidbit.
Brinley rolled his eyes at the boy's next comment. Seriously. "Yes. He's got his own invisibility cloak. And a fluffly white owl. Code Name: Harry Potter. Had I known you were this daft, I'd have not let you within yards of me, better yet milimetres."
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"As much as I'd like to see you suffer Watson, the absolute last thing I'd ever do is tell anyone about what happened. What part of me staying in the closet don't you understand? It definitely wasn't my doing. So if Hawkins doesn't have a cloak and no one else knows about us besides him..." He left the last part unsaid, instead he rolled his eyes. "Great, my secret identity hangs on the fact that you let your boyfriend keep tabs on you."
He walked down the steps, feeling like walking somewhere far, far away. He gave Brinley a wave of the hand, not saying goodbye but dismissing him. Turns out he learnt a thing or two from the Slytherin's cold demeanor. Couldn't help leaving what he thought was a parting jab though. Later he'd wonder if he'd said it deliberately in the hopes the older boy would follow him.
"I thought you were supposed to be dominant. Turns out you're just fucking whipped."
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Wrong Way Rubbing was not the sort of rubbing he preferred.
"Back off, Frazer," he finally replied, words coming through clenched teeth. "My relationship, or stance within it, or other person involved is none of your bloody business. You'd do well to drop that subject right now."
Yep. He wasn't playing.
Brinley stood right there, unmoving as the stone beneath him, as the other boy made his way down the stairs. Like he didn't figure that the git would have to throw something else out there. Andrew Frazer clearly didn't know when to shut his bloody damn mouth. "I though you were suppose to be worth my time," he drawled in return. "Turns out you're just a waste, yet another pointless, meaningless mudbloods in a sea of filth. And here I was, making exceptions for you." With the slow shake of his head, he clicked his tongue as his gaze turned somewhat challenging.
Yeah, go on Frazer. Give him your best shot.
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"Yeah, that's me. Pointless. Meaningless. I'm sure you were really considering me. I mean, who cares about the boyfriend who loves you, go against all your fucked up beliefs and sleep with a muggleborn. That makes a lot of sense. Merlin's beard, I'm not as stupid as I look."
Well as far as emotional outbursts went, that one was pretty stupid. Andy couldn't imagine doing it in front of someone who actually cared less than Brinley.
But he meant everything. There was no way that the Slytherin would want Andy, after everything. It was just a big joke and the worst part was he was just beginning to realise he cared. Not about the person, hell no, more about what the person could do with his body. There must have been a reason, after all, not a morning went by that Andy hadn't woken up with morning wood.
So, coming to this conclusion, outside, at night, in the light of a rising moon, staring up at one of his worst enemies with whom he had gotten his rocks off with; well it felt just like a film.
This would normally be the part of the film where Andy would go try to drown himself in the lake.
He wasn't feeling that melodramatic. So he started walking.
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Wait for it, wait for it!
"Though.. I suppose that much is still questionable. You've not exactly given me any reasons to think you're not completely daft. I'll give you the benefit of a doubt, though. Because I like you."
Now, the most disturbing part of it all was the fact that... well, he bantering. Perhaps even flirting, actually. Though eyes were still icey and cutting through all around him, tone was dry and cruel, and posture was statuesque, the words he chose to use kept the conversation more jovial. Honestly, though, Brinley's idea of flirtation was obviously more cruel then reassuring.
Oh, but it wouldn't last for long. Andy just had to go and bring up his relationship again. He shouldn't have had such issues with it, but he was trying to bring himself back into denial. Just hearing his boyfriend's name reminded him of what had happened the days prior, when three little words (accompanied by a 'too', of course) escaped his lips during a moment of extreme turmoil. It was on accident, he was telling himself. It was a lot harder to deny something when it kept getting dragged to the front of his mind, though.
And honestly, did he want to have Illiad on his mind while talking to Andrew anyway?
"I just told you to drop it, Frazer," he said quickly as the other boy looked apt to make his escape. Hands moved to shove themselves into pockets and slowly, one-by-one, he made his way down the stairs. "Merlin, you don't listen well, do you?" He'll show him dominating. "It is none of your bloody damn business!" Once he reached the bottom, he hopped ever so elegantly to the grass and stood there instead, slight tilt to his stance and with his hip jutting. "Illiad knows the terms of our relationship and if I happen to want to get involved with someone else, he knows where his place is with it." Two steps towards Andy and he stopped again, leaning over slightly as he continued. "I get involved with the men I want. If I want them, I take them, and he understands. If I want you, I'll take you, and he knows better than to say anything about it in return."
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Not that he believed the boy, of course. There was no way Brinley Watson didn't mind a mudblood, he reasoned. It didn't stop him from turning around to eye the older boy quizzically. He tried to say the words out loud but they kept tripping over his tongue. It sounded so wrong.
He watched the blonde boy make his way down the stairs. Casually, slowly moving toward Andrew. There was a light in his eyes, reflection of the light coming from the front doors. Or maybe it was from the moon. Andy was feeling slighty weak. He coughed and it seemed to give him a momentary grasp of reality.
He wanted to ask whether he had any choice in the matter but he knew the answer before he could get the words out. That little question had been out of comission the moment he had kissed Brinley two weeks ago.
"Maybe he wouldn't say anything to you but I sure as hell know he'll say something to me. And my friends. And anyone who'll listen. I've got nothing to gain from this and everything to lose if he found out."
Well, he had nothing to gain aside from a few seconds of pleasure.
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Chances were that they were the exact reason why he had gone from brushing the idea of Andrew Frazer off to not really minding if it happened again. He had to talk himself out of all of that. Brinley didn't love, he just didn't. Besides, it was an emotional moment. People said loads of stuff they didn't mean during those odd, emotional moments.
Didn't they?!
Now, Andy either didn't look like what he was feeling and going through or Brinley just wasn't good at reading him, either way he wasn't really sure what the other boy was going through at that exact moment. But he had an idea, oh boy did he ever. His departure had been halted, hadn't it? Apparently he had gotten through to him. Implanted ideas in his head, perhaps? Good. It meant he was somewhat victorious. Andy had become more of a trophy than anything else. Some day, he'd brag about all of this, he really would. Oh, would Louvika Hawkins and Fionnbhair McFinn throw mad fits if they heard of it. Maybe he'd even brag directly to them. Not immediately, of course. He had to savour it for a bit. Andy was the ultimate forbidden fruit. He not only wanted to take a bite, but eat the whole damn thing and shove the core into the faces of his mates and even Illiad.
"Only makes the pot sweeter," he replied. With that, out came a smirk and if his gaze wasn't screaming challenge by that point, it was from then on. "If you can handle it, that is. What, fresh out of Gryffindor gusto, Frazer? Too afraid for adventure?" Seriously, who had more to lose then Brinley? He'd lose the only person he ever sort-of-loved and would be banished from the FUKD (and possibly the DE as well), and would, who knows, get himself bloody well killed in the process. Right. Andy had so much to lose. Absolutely laughing (AT HIM), Brinley batted a hand in the air and spun about on his heels, heading back towards the stairs. "I knew you didn't have it in you, fucking wimp."
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How the fuck was he even considering this?
Andy took a step forward and then a step back. Decision making time. He had 10 seconds before Brinley reached the door.
10...
It's Brinley Watson, for fuck's sake!
9...
He's a Slytherin!
8...
Possibly a murderer!
7...
Not to mention a total prick!
6...
If anyone found out, your life would be over!
5...
You'd lose your friends.
4...
And if your father found out he'd more than likely kill you.
3...
It won't end well for anyone!
2...
Did I mention he's a prick?!
1...
No, Andy, don't!
"How will we hide the marks from people," he called out quickly. By people he meant 'Illiad' but he was sure Brinley would know that.
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Besides. He completely wanted this.
And then it happened. Victory! Oh, he didn't even hide that smirk when he spun back around, but shoved his hand back into his pocket. "Easy," he replied slowly, as if speaking to a child. "You just won't bite me, idiot." As he spoke, he strolled back over to Andy and didn't even bother to stop until he was directly in front of him, leaving only enough room for molecules to waft about between them. But just a few. Couldn't have too many molecules coming between him and what he wanted. Just couldn't have that at all.
His eyes, and that intense stare he delivered so often, traveled down the other boy's face slowly, pausing here and there. Eyes, lips, jaw, so on and so forth. "And you'll not tell anyone. Not Illiad, not that bitch Louvika Hawkins, not your mother. Not a soul. You tell one, I tell all."
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He found it seconds later.
"Well that's just stupid," he growled, "of course I'm not going to tell anyone. The same goes for you. You tell anyone and I make sure everyone dear to you knows about it." Again, the 'Illiad' was unspoken.
He felt like the agreement needed a handshake but he doubted they'd ever be the handshaking sort of people. Besides, how could they ever trust each other? If someone found out, Andy and Brinley would automatically assume it was each other who told the person.
He voiced this concern to Brinley. "How can we trust each other in regards to this?"
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Nodding slowly, he replied, "Right, right, and you seem to forget that you're not exactly the brightest of sparks, Frazer. I have to make sure you understand these things before you go off for a girl-chat and spill the proverbial load." Oh, the jokes he could have spun off of that one. 'Only load spilling you'll be doing is..' But he digressed. Not now. Later. "Please. Telling anyone means admitting to having anything to do with you. Not likely at all." Not unless he needed it as some card in his deck of manipulations, that was. If ever he got questioned on his stance towards mudbloods, he'd easily say 'Right, I shag one everyday at noon - care to watch?'
As for trust?
Well. Brinley sort of had trust issues. But he trusted himself, and trusted that he'd be able to come up with a good Crucio (hopefully) if ever Andy broke said trust, so really. No problem. "You'll not tell anyone and if you do, there will be hell to pay," he replied easily. "And you'll trust me because you're the weak-minded sort that would. Oh, and I'd likely hex myself if ever I told a soul, too."
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"I'll never trust you Watson, but I trust the fact you don't want people to know. So we're agreed, if anyone finds out, it's not because either of us?"
He had to make that part clear. He didn't want to boy to run his mouth off if Illiad happened to find out again, because it definitely wouldn't be because of him.
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"Oh, eventually you will," he replied with a daring smirk. "A few good, hard shags will get you there. But I digress, that's neither here nor there. And agreed. If anyone finds out about it, it won't be from either of us." There was then a pause and he gave Andy the tenth look-over of the evening, perhaps. "Or at least it better not, or I'll hex that pretty little head right off your shoulders, understood?"
Because honestly, Brinley functioned loads better when there were threats on the line.
Looking victorious and, as always, quite arrogant, he stuck a hand out. Oh yes, they'd shake on it. Had to do it properly-like.
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Also, he really, really liked it when Brinley looked him over. He nodded mutely to whatever it was that the Slytherin was rambling on about now and it was only when he stuck out his hand, that he snapped out of his little daze. He looked confused for a second before he realised that Brinley wanted to shake hands. Hm. How odd.
He sneaked a glance of the boy's palm (one had to make sure there was no joy buzzer or whatever the magical equivalent was) and then grasped it firmly, locking eyes with him.
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