(no subject)
I got a $5 gift certificate from Rifftrax as I hadn't been there in a while--I got to download five NEW shorts, riffed for my pleasure, enjoying nostalgic 50's/60's/70's/80's brand of educational-short-cheese!
But one made me mad. When I say mad, I mean growling and shaking my fist at the computer mad. It was a little gem titled 'Magical Disappearing Money' in which the main character is this super-grating witch that shows an entire grocery store full of people how to save money. Now fine, we should ALL learn to save money better me especially, lyk whoa but this was just... one suggestion in particular got me SO fired up, I yelled, "NO! NO, that is ri-DIC-u-lous, stfu!" and shook my head vehemently.
I can't give it all away cos' it inspired fic. Fic I've been writing and that I'm posting, like, here. Probably gonna be a two-parter. The only clue I'm giving as to what pissed me off is that it's in the fic, and it's drinkable. You will probably sense my ire in how I wrote it.
Title: Some Assembly Required--1
Pairing/Characters: Casey, caseycrushing!UST!Zeke, Mr. and Mrs. Connor
Warning(s): I don't think it NEEDS a warning, but a perv makes a very brief, stupid appearance. Based on vids I've watched before. You'll see.
Rating: PG-13 with a hint of R, if you squint.
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: A crack!fickish romp wherein Zeke learns about the dangers of frugality.
The grin Casey wore made Zeke both frustrated and amused. "Yea, you think you're just THAT awesome, huh?" Zeke said while shaking his head at the screen displaying his tenth loss in a row. No matter which Tekken character he picked, Casey beat him on every angle.
"Hey, when you grow up with almost NO friends, video games become your social calendar almost entirely," Casey replied. "Deal with it."
Sighing, Zeke sank into his beanbag chair and carelessly dropped his game controller on the floor. "Dude, I'm done. Congrats, you're a dick."
Casey gawked. "Wooow, Zeke 'Sore Fuckin' Loser' Tyler..."
"I'm just razzin' ya." Zeke jabbed Casey's side with his finger. The boy squirmed and rolled away.
"Cut it out, I'm ticklish," he said.
As Casey went about the business of shutting off his game system and going to his stereo to switch music, the temptation to grab the boy and tickle him into oblivion was almost crippling Zeke. They were friends--just friends, odd friends that came out of a very odd arrangement of circumstances. Less than two months ago, Casey was invisible to Zeke. Zeke wasn't one to socialize to begin with, rather enjoying being alone, but after MaryBeth? It felt good to have someone around, especially if that someone had not just dealt with what Zeke had to endure, but had been the one to end it with a bravery no one had seen before.
It wasn't until Zeke said, "Wanna come by, hang out?" for the first time and looked at Casey directly that he noticed how blue his eyes were. So fucking stereotypical; 'oh, they're gorgeous,' Zeke feeling like he was in a movie with music swelling in the background... he'd gone from being a loner art student's depressing film to a romantic comedy. That's how Zeke had started feeling toward Casey in the last few weeks; the boy was funny and adorable, making Zeke laugh and sigh at the same damned time. It was weird that Zeke didn't feel sick about going from T&A to thinking about what Casey looked like with his clothes off, his biggest lament becoming, 'Wish we'd had gym together at SOME point'.
No matter the rumors about Casey's sexuality, Zeke wasn't about to act on anything. Nothing scalded a teenage boy's confidence and self-esteem than to have "FAG!" or "HOMO!" yelled at him, so of course, Casey had received such torment over the years. Not anymore, though. Even if someone dared to snarl Casey's way--after all he'd DONE for the bastard--Zeke was usually right behind Casey to glare back and make them scurry off like a terrified squirrel. Zeke owed him that much, and more.
"Do you like 'Talking Heads'?" Casey asked, flashing the CD case at Zeke.
Good taste in music, too, played on a good stereo system. Zeke smiled and nodded. "Fuck yea," he said. Casey smiled and slipped the disc into the slot; soon enough, the room was filled with 80's goodness, warbling voices and synthesized madness making Zeke's feet tap into the air. The fact that he'd been skeptical about having a good time at Casey's place for an overnight felt silly, now. Casey had good music, fun games, a computer system to die for and a mother downstairs making dinner. Zeke didn't have to dig out a microwave meal for himself tonight--someone else was doing it for him, for once.
Speaking of parental units... "Casey?"
"C'mon in," Casey called to the door, which opened halfway for Mrs. Connor to look into with a smile on her face.
"Are you boys having a nice time?" she asked.
"Yea," Casey said, Zeke nodding along.
"Good! I just wanted to let you know that I need to head out for a bit; Auntie Mary called a bit ago to let me know she got more cheese and carrots," she said. "Can you keep an eye on the kitchen for me while I'm gone?"
"Sure," Casey said.
"Great... just add some water to the beans in just a little bit, and tomorrow's will need skimming," she said.
Zeke blinked furiously. Beans, skimming? Casey seemed to know what she was on about, nodding and standing. "'K. C'mon, let's go watch TV downstairs."
~*~
"That's... a lot of beans," Zeke said as he watched Casey stir the contents of a gigantic pot sitting on the stove.
"It's the Connor family's staple. They're good," Casey replied. He covered the pot and moved onto the other giant pile of beans, which sat in a large bowl of water. Zeke continued staring as Casey grabbed a tiny sieve and collected what looked to be a foamy-fat of some kind.
"The pool-boy of beans."
"Hah, sounds about right."
"Must be one big fart-fest around here."
Casey chuckled and rolled his eyes at Zeke. "Why do you think I'm skimming this stuff? THIS..." he said while dumping the contents of the sieve in the sink. "Is the main ingredient for farts."
"Yea?" God, Zeke was learning a lot about beans suddenly.
"Mmhmm," Casey replied in a hum.
"Sooo... what else is tonight's grub gonna be?" Zeke asked.
"Beans, rice, chicken and biscuits," Casey said.
"Chicken's good. What kind?"
"Boiled bird-breasts."
Zeke had been hoping to see a deep-fat fryer being dug out, but... "Sounds good."
~*~
The bag of carrots Mrs. Connor was carrying inside looked heavier than her son was. "Here, lemmee help," Zeke said after opening the door for her; he reached for them, but Mrs. Connor smiled.
"Thank you, Zeke, but--here, grab this instead."
A long plain box was held out to him. It, too, was large and heavy. Casey looked up from the beans and smiled.
"Beans are almost done," he said.
"Oh, good. Will you cut the cheese, Casey?"
'Won't we have enough of that after dinner?' Zeke joked in his head. He expected Casey to wander over to the fridge, but was surprised when Casey took the box from him, instead. The lid was removed and out came a giant block of neon-orange cheese product. For a moment, all Zeke could do was watch two-thirds of this family unit preparing dinner together with more food than Zeke had ever seen in his life. "Does this aunt have a farm, or something?" he asked.
Mrs. Connor chuckled while she struggled to find a spot in the fridge for the truck load of vegetables. "No--she lives in the apartments on Spruce Street. Since she never married, has no kids and I was her 'favorite niece', she shares her food benefits with us," she explained. "Lord knows she's too tiny to eat a whole bag of carrots and two blocks of cheese."
"That's not a 'whole bag'?" Zeke asked with amazement.
"No, just half."
'Just half'. More like 'Just a bag of carrots that could feed fifty horses for a month'...
"Want me to start the rice, Mom?" Casey asked.
"Sure. Should've started it earlier, really," Mrs. Connor said.
Zeke had been told that dinner was served at six, not a second later--it was quarter-past five at the moment, and though Zeke wasn't an experienced cook, he'd made rice before. The task took all but five minutes. Casey grabbed a bowl and measuring cup, opened a door at the far side of the room and went in. The flick of a lightswitch revealed a wide open space full of food. Curious, Zeke wandered over to watch the boy continue working. Casey was kneeling on the floor and reaching underneath a shelf to a large bag. When it was revealed as rice, Zeke frowned. "I usually get the boxed kind," he said.
"That's a waste. When you figure that a box of instant rice is about a dollar and twenty cents a pound, while regular rice is about eighty-five cents a pound..." Casey filled his bowl with two large cups of rice and stood. "...Sounds kinda dumb to go for instant, right?"
'No,' Zeke thought. He chose to shrug instead; Casey passed by him to get back to the stove, while Zeke moved into the pantry to get a better look. Bags upon bags about bags of beans lined one shelf, while countless cans of various vegetables sat on the one below. And how much tomato paste did one family-of-three need? Not to mention the rice, which Casey was now telling his mother was 'getting low'. The bulging bag Casey had tied off looked fit to burst.
The sound of the front door opening made everyone look down the hall. Mr. Connor, fresh from his workday at 'Stone and Phillips', the classiest and most popular homegrown department store in town, walked down and greeted them all with a smile. "Hi, guys," he said. He looked to Zeke and smiled wider. "Zeke, good to see you."
"'Same," Zeke cordially replied with a lift of his hand.
"Hi, honey," Mrs. Connor said. The man smiled and went over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Connor sniffed a little. "Did you get a new cologne?"
"No, just another air freshener for the car."
"Ah..."
Casey looked to Zeke and smirked. "He's obsessed with the car smelling like the cologne department at the store," he said.
"Hah. Yea," was all Zeke could reply with.
"What's for dinner?" Mr. Connor asked. He went over to the bean pot, lifted the lid and made a thin-lipped smile. "Ah, looks good."
"I got carrots and cheese from Mary, too," Mrs. Connor said.
"It's the first of the month, all right."
Zeke flicked his eyes back to the man, who'd moved onto the fridge. A beer was taken out and he sighed, gave Zeke a quick smile before going into the living room. If Zeke's keen sense of hearing was sending his brain the right signal, there'd been an almost invisible note of 'this shit again?' in Mr. Connor's voice.
~*~
The plate of food being presented to Zeke was astounding in many different ways. For one, the enormous pile of rice and beans wasn't the variety the awesome Spanish deli on the corner of Main and Elm sold. He was thankful for the salt and pepper shakers on the table, as Mrs. Connor's love of seasoning showed in the plainness of her meals.
Secondly, Zeke had had a moment of hope when a butter dish was put out in the middle of the table, only to discover that it was margarine, a generic brand from 'Shop Rite'. He wasn't aware that anyone in town even shopped there anymore since the 'Stop & Shop' opened in town. 'Shop Rite' closed at eight p.m., for fuck's sake, and their deli blew.
Thirdly... it took Zeke a moment to realize that there was chicken on his plate as its pale coloring matched the plate and rice. The salt and pepper shakers would need filling once Zeke had finished eating--not an issue, considering the giant economy-sized tubs of both seasonings the Connors had in the pantry.
Astounding, in ways Zeke wasn't sure were good or not.
Now that everyone had been served, Mr. Connor smiled and folded his hands. Zeke watched Mrs. Connor and Casey move to do the same--grace. Fuck. Zeke quickly joined along, hoping the Connors didn't ask what church he went to. He wouldn't find the courage to lie.
"Dear Lord, thank you for this food and our health..." Mr. Connor led them in prayer. Once again, Zeke took note of his demeanor. While his voice was robotic, his nose twitched and his eyes blinked furiously as he spoke about god, their household, family, until... "...Amen."
"Oh! Darn it, the coffee, I forgot to make some," Mrs. Connor said just as everyone had picked up their forks. "Go on without me."
Zeke was about to ask if he could have some when Casey passed a pitcher to him. With a 'thanks,' Zeke took it and looked inside at the bright orange liquid. "Juice?"
"Mmhmm, orange." Casey said.
Flavor, at long last. Zeke filled the provided glass with the juice, put the pitcher down and took a sip. He frowned and glanced to Casey. "It's Tang."
"Yea," Casey matter-of-factly replied.
Tang WAS nice, but Zeke had expected pulp, not a sugar buzz. 'Stop being so rude,' he thought. Mrs. Connor was a kind woman, and this WAS a feast. Sort of.
"Here we go," Mrs. Connor said upon her return, holding two mugs. One was placed in front of Mr. Connor, who nodded.
"Thank you, dear," he said.
Zeke frowned. "That was fast," he said. "Your coffee maker must be better than mine."
"Oh--we don't have a coffee maker," Mrs. Connor replied.
No coffee maker... but there was coffee on the...
Oh no. Zeke, yet again, looked to Mr. Connor. The blank expression he wore while sipping lukewarm instant coffee was hiding something. Something dark and desperate. Zeke was sure of it.
~*~
There hadn't been enough salt on the planet, but Zeke had somehow managed to shovel down the bean-feast anyway. It mostly had to do with the smile Mrs. Connor had worn when she told Zeke, "I hope you like it; Casey's said that you don't get to have many homecooked dinners," while wearing the sweetest, most motherly smile Zeke had ever gotten.
"Yea, s'great," he said, fighting to speak past the mouthful of plain mush he'd been trying to chew and swallow for a full minute. Casey, however, had eaten with gusto, filling his cup only once more throughout the whole meal. Zeke had taken solace in his three servings of sugar-sweet refreshment.
But the biscuits? Even if butter wasn't present, they hadn't needed that OR the margarine. Given the choice, Zeke would've eaten the entire basket instead of the other dinner fare. Another perk, having a mother who thought that buying bread dough in a can was ridiculous. Homemade breads were also a staple here, something Zeke would come back for.
Now that it was finally over, Casey and his mother began clearing the table. Mrs. Connor smiled at the sitting men and said, "I'll be back with dessert," before heading off with Casey to the kitchen.
'Oh...' Zeke cooed in his mind. Dessert. He didn't care if it consisted of fruit or some other boring, sweet imposter. Smiling, he looked across the table to Mr. Connor. "Thanks for having me over. Mrs. C's right... it's mostly microwaveables for me, back home."
"Mmm, you won't find that here," Mr. Connor said with the most forced chuckle Zeke had ever heard. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Zeke."
"Yea." It now felt a bit awkward, sitting here waiting, wanting to ask, "Did YOU enjoy it, Mr. Connor?"
"Honey, where's your lunch bag?" Mrs. Connor called out.
"Oh... I left it in the car," Mr. Connor replied.
"Okay, go get it so I can put together the leftovers for you."
"After dessert honey, don't worry about it," Mr. Connor said with a quickness.
That dessert now entered the room, carried by Casey. A tray of cups filled with pudding and a box of graham crackers sat upon it. Simple and delicious enough, Zeke supposed.
~*~
"Dude, dude... no, tell him..." Zeke felt giddy as he leaned in to get a better look at the screen. "...Say that you HATE your English teacher."
Casey giggled and typed out his reply to 'bangin_baldies_42' in the MSN private chat box.
Mini_Minnie: i dunno if im gonna pass english this yr :(
Mini_Minnie: it was soooo much easier in 7th grade
bangin_baldies_42: awwww poor baby *kisses you gently on your cheek* cmere and sit on daddys lap ;-)
"Oh, barf..." Casey said, though he made hissing, stifled laughter with Zeke anyway. "Do I dare?"
"Yea. God, this guy's a perv," Zeke said while looking at the sidebar, showing the video image of a shirtless, overweight, middle-aged man. Though the technology made the video skip and halt, it was easy to see what the man wanted to do--and see, on Casey's end.
Mini_Minnie hops up into ur lap and giggles. "What now?"
bangin_baldies_42 puts his arm around u and rubs your leg. Why dont you turn on that webcam hunny he asks
Mini_Minnie: oh but im so shhhy *blush*
bangin_baldies_42: u dont gotta be with me bb. im letting u see ME, so its a lil unfair *pouts*
Sure enough, the pervert made an exaggerated sad face for the camera.
"Fuckin' dork," Zeke said.
"No, let's do it. Ready?" Casey asked. Zeke took a deep, chuckle-filled breath.
"Y-Yea."
Casey shook with giggles as he turned on the webcam, a state-of-the-art device. It didn't offer 'baldies' a view just yet; they needed to get a good, teasing shot, first. Zeke had never used one before, nor was his Commodore 64 capable of anything made after 1987. That would change, tomorrow. "Why does it have to be MY belly?" Casey said as he lifted his shirt up halfway.
"Because you're the one with a teenage-girl's body, dorkface," Zeke said, though he now found it hard to tear his eyes away from Casey's unblemished, pretty midriff.
"Jerk." Casey grumbled then clicked the camera's viewing options. While the pervert waited, Casey zoomed the cam in on his stomach, framing his bellybutton perfectly. "'K..."
God, he was pretty. Zeke masked his interest in staring at the screen, which at the same time allowed him to gaze at Casey's creamy skin.
bangin_baldies_42: u there bb?
Zeke took over this time to let the boy get everything sorted; he reached over to the keyboard and chuckled wildly.
Mini_Minnie: ya but no boobies yet k? imma let u see my belly :-D
bangin_baldies_42: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
"Christ," Zeke muttered.
"Okay, I'm set."
Zeke backed away for the moment to let Casey click the camera into action and join the chat. The view went from smooth-moving to jerky as the connection was made. After a brief pause, the girl-lover smiled wide.
bangin_baldies_42: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm u look so licable :P---
bangin_baldies_42: lickable*
Mini_Minnie: ty :-D ur sooooo sweet
bangin_baldies_42: mmmm yea now i want more *shy grin* but only if u want to\
bangin_baldies_42: can we turn on voice now?
It was obvious as to WHY the guy wanted to stop typing. One hand was already under the desk, the other resting on the keyboard. "Do it," Zeke said, nudging Casey's shoulder.
Mini_Minnie: ok :-) Casey typed back then clicked the audio settings into gear. He and Zeke went stone-silent as the speakers crackled with muted music coming from 'baldies' end.
"Hey, sweetheart," a thick voice spoke to them. Both boys cringed.
"Ew..." Zeke whispered. Casey sighed deeply and smiled wide.
"Hi!" he said in an ultra-squeaky voice, adding a girly-giggle.
"You're too good at that," Zeke once again whispered.
"You sound so cute. I wanna see your pretty face, honey," 'baldies' said.
"Okay! Ready??" Casey said as he clicked the man's username to pull up the 'report user' tab, just in case he bolted and left them empty-handed. Zeke prepared for it, slipping on his sunglasses and leaning in a little closer. As 'baldies' hummed with approval and nodded, Casey started zooming the camera out in halted clicks, until his half-covered chest started coming into view. He dropped the plain white fabric to cover himself; just before Zeke entered the shot, 'baldies' smile began disappearing.
"Um, what...?"
"SERRRRVED!" both boys yelled as the camera now showed something 'baldies' hadn't expected. Making faces and holding out their middle fingers, they whooped and hopped around.
"Hey! What're you--fuckers!!"
"Fuckin' perv! Welcome to MSN's perv-reporting!" Casey yelled.
"Oh no, too bad, so sad!" Zeke added while sticking out his lower lip.
"You still hard, Mr. Girly-Perv??" Casey said directly into the mike, holding it against his lips to make his voice sound loud and haunting.
No answer came; the man steeled his jaw and with a few rushed-looking movements clicked right off the screen. The two tricksters began howling with raging laughter. "Oh, we brought it!" Casey hooted.
"Royally motherfuckin' served. Send that report," Zeke said once he'd recovered.
All too happy to do so, Casey continued on filling out a complaint, citing 'soliciting a minor online' as the main offense. After screencapping, copy-pasting and attaching the documents into the form, it was sent along to MSN's watchdogs. Zeke raised his hand in the air, which Casey gave a hearty smack upon with his own. "Totally. Fuckin'. Served," Casey said.
"I gotta do this. Wanna come with me to the mall tomorrow and help me get a sweet piece like this?" Zeke said while motioning to the computer.
"Sure! You gotta get a cable connection if you want to cam like that, though. Dial-up works, but dial-up sucks," Casey said.
It was a well-known fact that cable internet was costly, and almost no one Zeke knew had it. He smirked. "Can I ask you somethin'?"
"Shoot."
"How did you manipulate your mom into spending two dollars a week on food so you can have this set-up?" he said in a jocular, teasing tone. It took Casey a moment to go from frowning to snide-smirking.
"Ha, ha."
"I'm kinda serious. I mean, beans are good for you, they're... filling, but..."
Casey sighed. "But what?"
"It's just--real cheap livin'."
Standing up and stretching, Casey said, "It's not about, 'oh my god, we're so poor we have to eat beans all the time!'"
"I didn't say that," Zeke said.
"I know. Mom's just always been like that, and it makes sense, y'know? Why spend triple the money on boxed stuff when you can make it yourself? Like... okay, Rice-A-Roni? Number one, the cost may not LOOK like a lot, but when you break it all down, you're paying triple just for the spices and the label, box, etcetera. You can add your own to some pasta and... voila."
"Yea, but..."
"And honestly... it's kinda fun, starting from scratch."
Zeke gave Casey a thoughtful look. "Like, cooking it?"
"Yea. When I was little, mom would let me play with the dried beans before we prepared them. I loved it. Better than a sandbox," Casey said. "I'd just dig my hands in. She sometimes let me do it after they'd soaked. THAT was cool, too."
"God... you're so weird," Zeke said, chuckling. Casey shrugged, smiled and blushed--oh god, adorable. A-DORK-able. "But okay, okay, I get it. As long as you tell me that you SOME-times head to McD's for a Big Mac, we're good."
Casey's face went blank. "Y'mean McDonald's?"
"Uh, yea."
"No, not really. Sometimes my grandpa took me, but... their food's too heavy. Processed. No thanks."
"Boys?" a voice called from the stairs while Zeke tried his best to not gape and gawk in shock.
"Yea, Mom?"
The woman opened the bedroom door and peeked in. "What went on in here a few ago?? I was outside on the porch with your father and we could hear you like you were sitting next to us," she said with a few chuckles.
"Oh--we were just playing Tekken again. Zeke finally won and he flipped out," Casey said.
Mrs. Connor sighed, wearing the motherly smile that made Zeke feel warm. "Well, don't give yourselves heart attacks before you hit your twenties. And it's getting on midnight--bed soon, okay?"
"Sure," Casey said.
"Mmkay." With that, the woman left, shutting the door behind her. A small pause followed before Casey sighed and turned to look at Zeke with an embarrassed smile.
"Yea... I'm a dork with a midnight curfew on weekends," he said.
Forgetting about all of the food issues, Zeke shrugged and grinned. "I'd figured. 'Makes me jealous, actually."
"Hah, what, you WANT a curfew?"
"Not really. I want somebody there to GIVE one."
Casey's amused expression dimmed. "Oh. Yea..."
"Don't sweat it. Let's go brush our teeth, get in our footie-jammies and tell ghost stories or some shit," Zeke said, allowing Casey's smile to return.
~*~
Beanbags were comfortable enough to sleep on, but the vinyl Zeke's cheek was pressed against felt a little strange. It made an odd peeling sort of noise when his eyes opened and he turned his head up. Newborn sunlight was creeping through the windows and onto his blanket-covered feet, warming them. Not quite ready to be up-and-at-'em just yet, Zeke snuggled onto his side, tugged his big pillow under his head tighter and curled the blanket up past his chin with his hands.
Fresh, clean, new... that's what it felt like here. Being a lazy teenager with no parents around meant that laundry days were few and far between. Besides a quick throwing-in of jeans, underwear and a couple shirts every four or five days, he had enough clothing to not bother. But the linens department sometimes suffered--there hadn't been many girls he'd brought home, not because he was a stinky pig, but it could be better. Most of the girls Zeke had mistakenly hooked-up with were the type to wrinkle their noses in disgust in discovering he didn't believe one had to shower every damned day.
But that philosophy had matched Casey's frugal nature when he'd admitted it, the boy nodding fast and saying, "No, no! It's a stupid waste of soap and water--you HAVE to have some body oils on you to stay alive, for fuck's sake." Yet another reason to love the young man.
Love? Zeke perked up as he rested on that thought. Love. It smelled like it, here. Fluffy, fresh-scented comforters and pillowcases; dust-free shelves and decor; homemade dinners. 'Beans,' he drowsily thought, almost chuckling. He held back however and shot his eyes over to the nearby bed where Casey was sleeping.
"You're the guest, take my bed--go ahead," Casey had said when they'd gone to settle in for a good night's rest. Zeke had refused to take the offer for a myriad of reasons, the main one being that in laying under those covers and resting on the pillow, the only thing he'd feel was Casey through scent. His hair, body, certain areas that carried the most pheromones, feet... Zeke loved Casey's feet. Not too smelly, not too fresh and with the cutest toes known to mankind. So Casey had finally sighed with defeat, said, "Your loss," and the pair settled in for two hours of whispered conversation. Zeke couldn't quite remember most of it. It was typical chuckling, joking around, nothing incredibly ground-breaking. Just two boys not ready for sleep just yet.
In the here and now, Zeke could see that Casey's eyes were still closed, body still besides the slow rise of breath making his body sway up, up... then down, down. Zeke stared at the messy hair parted erratically, making Casey look like an anime character. Zeke's brain buzzed and made him feel more aware of his surroundings, the other occupant sharing it with him. Drowsiness faded away and Zeke moved to sit up. Once upright, he continued staring at Casey with the new vantage point, which allowed him to see Casey's face. Well, most of it; the young man had made a cocoon out of his blankets, his lips covered by a puffy fold of his comforter.
Zeke opened his lips and almost, almost said, "Hey Case, wake up", but no... he couldn't. He realized that this was one of the most intimate moments he'd ever shared with Casey, the boy not even knowing it because... 'I'm watching Casey sleep,' Zeke thought. He shuffled over closer to get to the edge of the bed. Not wanting to make any sudden moves, Zeke rested his arm over the empty spot between the edge and Casey. 'Don't--SAY something, wake him up...'
"Haa-mm..."
Zeke's nose twitched as he watched Casey's movements, his cheek burrowing slowly against the pillow before he stilled again. The hidden-blues were moving back and forth slowly. Was he dreaming? What of? Without realizing it, Zeke nudged up and moved in even closer; he could now feel the soft breaths coming from Casey's nose, drifting over clean sheets to Zeke's face. Zeke pursed his lips then looked to Casey's, which were just poking out the littlest bit. Zeke didn't care how stupid-poetic, cliched it was--rosebuds. Even if Casey suddenly yawned and let out a burst of morning-breath, Zeke would smile and think he was sticking his face into a bed of sweet flowers. This was getting out of hand. Any moment now, those eyes were going to flutter open and find Zeke inches away from him, gazing at him like a lover. That moment came in a sudden snap, instant-blue staring back at Zeke.
'Do something!' Zeke panicked inwardly before belting, "BOO!"
Casey yelped and his body seemed to fly back into the wall behind him. Sleep-laden syllables Zeke swore meant, 'You asshole!' were blurted before Casey stilled and stared at Zeke, wide-eyed and breathing hard.
"You asshole!"
~*~
Given last night's dinner, Zeke wasn't expecting a delicious feast of animal fat for breakfast. He was resigned to having simple cereal and juice, or what passed as juice in this household. It made him linger a little longer in the bathroom, instead of rushing down to enjoy nuts and berries in a bowl of cold milk. McDonald's was out, but 'Barty's', Zeke's favorite diner, was homegrown and had good food, real food that Casey would probably get into. 'Maybe next weekend,' Zeke thought as he went down the stairs and walked to the kitchen where Casey sat at the table, Mrs. Connor bringing breakfast to him.
An orange. Fruit. Hope swelled in Zeke's stomach as he smiled his way to the table. "Morning," he said.
Mrs. Connor turned away from the fridge and grinned wide. "Good morning, honey. Go on and sit down; I'll get you guys fed."
'Honey'. She didn't know what that meant to Zeke, did she? With the song 'Feelin' Groovy' popping into his head, Zeke got into the chair facing Casey, plucked an orange from the bowl and began peeling it. "Time's it?" he asked.
"Uh... nine-forty," Casey said after a look to the oven's clock.
"Mall opens at ten. I'll have to run home and get my checkbook, but you wanna head out after that?"
"Sure."
"Are you going shopping?" Mrs. Connor asked as she returned to the table with two glasses of milk.
"Yea--Casey's computer got me jealous," Zeke replied.
"Oh, you're going to get one? It'll be great for when you're in college," she said. "I dunno if I'll ever get the hang of that internet-stuff myself."
Zeke shrugged a shoulder and moved the offered glass in front of him. "It'll take me a bit, but I'm geared-up for it," he said. He went to turn to the woman and keep talking but stopped and stared at what she was bringing down from the cupboards.
Grape-Nuts. Of all the motherfucking cereals on the planet, these people ate the most bland, pebble-like foodstuffs that existed. It was Zeke's unwavering opinion that the enamel-breaking breakfast had been developed in Nazi Germany, escaped war criminals sneaking it into the country to continue their evil deeds. Just the sound of it being poured into the glass bowls was like nails on a chalkboard. Feeling like an animal stuck in a bear-trap, Zeke could only watch as Mrs. Connor grabbed the pitcher of milk and poured it on. The next moment, it was being presented to him with that sweet, Mommy smile.
"Here you go, boys," she said. Casey smiled and took up his spoon.
"Thanks, Mom."
"Thanks," Zeke murmured as he stared into the milky-nuggety mess.
"Morning, everyone."
A blessed distraction came as Mr. Connor entered the room, already fully-dressed. Mrs. Connor went back to the box of cereal. "Hi, sweetie. Go on and sit, the boys have started eating--"
"Actually, I'm gonna head out. Marcus called a bit ago on my phone, asking if I can come by early to approve a new line of menswear someone's trying to sell to us," Mr. Connor interrupted to say.
"Oh. Well, you'll be home earlier, right?" Mrs. Connor asked.
Mr. Connor nodded and grabbed an orange before turning to head out. "Bye, guys, have fun--"
"Wait, your lunch!"
Zeke watched as the man went shock-still, watching his wife dig out the vinyl lunch bag from the fridge. It was handed over with a smile and quick kiss. "Love you," Mrs. Connor said.
"Love you too, buttercup," Mr. Connor replied.
Zeke turned away as the man now left--oh god. It was still there, wasn't it? He bit his lip then took up the glass of milk. It was lifted and tipped to his lips to sip when Zeke stopped dead. What... was that? What was that smell? He moved the glass away from his mouth and sniffed the air, frowning. When he looked back to Casey, he found the boy chewing blissfully--the smell was gone. Zeke blinked wildly then went to take a sip again. He smelled it just as the liquid reached his lips...
"What's wrong?"
Zeke must have looked as horror-struck as he felt. He stared at the confused-looking Casey and swallowed. "What--kinda milk is this? Skim?"
"No, it's whole milk," Casey said.
"It is?"
"What's wrong?" Mrs. Connor asked now.
Zeke turned halfway, holding the milk. "Just--asking what percent the milk is."
"Why, trying to keep your girlish figure?" Mrs. Connor grinned like an imp and winked.
"I..."
"I think it's whole, lemmee look." Mrs. Connor clucked her tongue as she went to the cupboards and pulled out a box. Zeke literally gasped as she brought out the 'Price Rite' brand... no. No, no, no... "Yea, it's whole. I'm sorry honey, are you used to another kind?"
'Yea, I'm used to MILK!' Zeke felt like screaming. "A-Actually, is there any Tang left?"
"Oh, of course! I'm sorry, I should've asked... Casey, do you want to drink it?" Mrs. Connor motioned to Zeke's full glass.
"Sure."
Zeke darted his eyes back to Casey, whose empty glass was put aside and Zeke's taken. Less than an hour before, Zeke had longed to kiss those little rosebuds, but now...?
The doorbell rang then; Mrs. Connor 'hmmed' and shuffled out, her slippers making a swoosh-ing noise over the linoleum. A moment later, they heard her cheerful voice greeting someone, mumbled conversation... "Casey?"
"Ya?" Casey called through a mouthful of the disgusting cereal.
"Can you come here a minute? Mrs. Clausen brought us a bunch of veggies from her garden!"
"Sure."
Zeke watched the young man trot off to the front of the house. 'Now's your fucking chance!' he thought. Bolting up, he grabbed his bowl and rushed to the sink; "Thank god," he muttered aloud in finding the garbage disposal at the left side's bottom. He dumped the contents of the bowl out and into where this shit belonged: a place to put disgusting garbage no reasonable person should consume. He made a quick, paranoid glance over his shoulder.
"Really, it's so much! Are you sure...?"
"After your brought us those lovely bean dinners when Henry came home from surgery? I owe you, Meredith."
With the family still preoccupied, Zeke smacked the spigot to wash the fake-milk and cereal away, disappearing into the nothingness. After he was sure the deed was done, the water was shut off, he took a deep breath then sauntered to the doorway looking out towards the front. Casey was approaching, smiling like an idiot while carrying a bulging plastic bag. "Check it out... zucchini!" he said, showing off the contents.
"Awesome. I'm gonna head out and get my checkbook, be back in a bit," Zeke said.
"Okay!"
~*~
Zeke's stomach was outright screaming at him as he drove away from his house, checkbook in his bag. He could have grabbed blindly for something to eat from HIS pantry, but it wouldn't be enough. Chips, pretzels, a can of mixed nuts--nothing would do. He needed breakfast. A breakfast dripping with grease, LINES of oil escaping wax-paper coverings and oozing down his arm. Casey could be as batshit insane as he wanted to be, but Zeke wasn't going straight back to the Connor household. Not until he'd shoveled three or four styrofoam containers worth of McDonald's 'Big Breakfast's into his greedy maw. He panicked a moment but calmed with a quick look to the clock: 10:40. Eleven o'clock was the cut-off for breakfasts here, so he'd make it.
The GTO made a roar resembling Zeke's insides as he pulled into the lot of the restaurant. The place was packed, but the drive-thru only had one car at the ordering area. Zeke got behind them and waited, knees jerking up and down as he smelled the grease-laden air mixing with exhaust, pavement and the river-water that ran behind the nearby shopping plaza. Delicious.
It wasn't long before the minivan in front of him moved, allowing him to take a turn. The handful of seconds he waited through for the worker to say, "Welcome to McDonald's, would you like to try our new McGriddle sausage sandwich?" was excruciating. Before he could blurt out his order, he saw the very 'McGriddle' the girl spoke of.
"Yes, two!" he called out more urgently than what was warranted.
"Anything else?"
"Two hashbrowns."
Pause. "Okay, two sausage McGriddles, two hashbrowns..."
"And... a milkshake," Zeke added. "Chocolate. Large. That's it."
"Would you like the McGriddle meal-deal instead with another drink? It's cheaper."
'Who the fuck cares, fucking FEED me!' Zeke shook his head clear. "I--sure, sure, two shakes, make 'em mediums."
Pause, pause, pause... "Okay, Sir, that'll be ten-eighty; please drive up to the first window."
"Thanks," Zeke said in a rush before pulling up. Thankfully for him, the other car had been simple enough to let him get to the first window, pay then pull up to the second. He drummed his fingers on the wheel while waiting for the bubbly-blond on the other side of the window talking to another young man to 'shut the fuck up and get my food!' Exasperated, Zeke slammed his head back onto the headrest, turned to the side lot and stilled with a frown.
The red sedan sitting in the plaza's lot next to the 'Herrington Savings Bank' ATM booth was extremely familiar. Zeke straightened as he spotted the familiar bumper sticker upon it, as well; it wasn't that far away, allowing him to read the words 'My Son is a Herrington High Honor Student'.
"Here you go, Sir," the chirpy-blond said as she held out Zeke's food and drinks. He startled, turned and took the items, then nodded.
"Thanks," he said before putting the car in drive; before pulling away, he looked again to Mr. Connor's car, noticing now that the driver's side door was open, two legs sticking out...
Zeke nodded to himself and drove off, but instead of pulling into a spot in the McDonald's lot, he left it to head to the plaza's. Mr. Connor didn't seem to notice the muscle car's roar, too preoccupied with heading over to a nearby trash can. Zeke spotted a plastic container in the man's hand; the lid was pried off and the contents dumped into the bin. Sighing sadly, Zeke didn't bother going the covert route, choosing to pull in right next to the sedan. Mr. Connor turned his head, looked back to the trash then did a double-take. 'That poor man,' Zeke thought as he shut the engine off and stepped out.
Mr. Connor took a deep breath and straightened. "Hello, Zeke."
"Hi."
"You rat me out and I'll tell my wife I saw you soliciting prostitutes."
It was instantaneous. Zeke gnawed his lower lip, turned back to the GTO and reached over to the bag of food and one of the shakes. It was all brought over to the hood, where Zeke sat down and began unwrapping maple-sausage heaven. He tried staring back at Mr. Connor but in taking his first bite, his eyes rolled back and his salivary glands went into overdrive. "Ohhh fug me."
When his eyes reopened, Mr. Connor was still watching Zeke with a wary eye but was now heading back to the car. Zeke expected him to hop in and roar off, but instead, he drug out his OWN McDonald's bag, went around the hood of the sedan and over to Zeke's car to join him.
For a few moments, they sat in silence as they ate, ate and ate, Mr. Connor having gotten two bacon, egg and cheeses on English muffins and two hashbrowns himself. Before Zeke moved onto the last of his second McGriddle, he flicked his eyes to the man gorging away beside him. "I don't know how you've done it, Mr. C. I really don't," he said.
A grunt, sniff and sigh was made by Mr. Connor, who dropped the hand holding his hashbrown against his bent-up knee. He stared out at the lot a few moments before replying, "She didn't grow up in a poorhouse, but her mother instilled it all in her... it's been like this since we were married. I don't know either."
"I'm sorry, man," Zeke said with all the sympathy in the world. Mr. Connor sensed it, his expression softening as he nodded.
"It's okay. I've managed to... manage it," he said. "I just... I went to college for business, got my master's in it, all to make damned sure I could provide for a family. I'm old-fashioned like that; if my wife didn't have to work, if she could stay home with our kid instead of daycare... I mean, it isn't to say women CAN'T work, I have great girls working with me at--"
"It's okay, Mr. Connor. Really. It is," Zeke said, wanting the man to feel at ease with him. He needed someone right now.
"Anyway... Mer's the best, I love her so much. She's always been wise with money, never takes advantage of my paycheck like SOME guy's wives I know... but... beans."
Zeke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yea. I got a first-hand look. I worried that we'd entered some time-tunnel back to wartime strife and we were about to be bombed by the Germans. Why do you think I'm here?"
Mr. Connor suddenly startled and looked at Zeke with a wary, curious gaze. "Zeke--you didn't drink that milk, did you?"
"Hells no."
"Good. Good. I'd hate to think... Casey's never had friends over. After all the crazy crap that went down and... there you were, being his friend. I was actually so fucking paranoid that you'd go running for the hills then dump Casey's books the next time you saw him in school after being forced to drink that goddamned shit," Mr. Connor said in a hissing rush. It was obvious that the man needed to honestly, truly vent. "The worst part is that she's got him doing it--she's got Casey weighing stuff, bringing calculators to the grocery store if he makes a food-run for her, mountains of coupons--and he LIKES it. Or he seems to."
Zeke nodded. "Good habits with money, all well and good, but--"
"But not like THAT. It's ridiculous!" Mr. Connor interrupted to say. "GET the store-brand milk instead of 'Hood', I don't care. GET beans--do they have to be dry? Seriously?"
"The only beans in MY diet come from microwave burritos," Zeke said with a chuckle. Mr. Connor outright moaned.
"Ohh my god. LOVE those," he said. "Or those Jamaica-patty things, the kind with spicy meat--"
"Yes, yes, the beef are best," Zeke said.
"Mmm." Mr. Connor sighed wistfully, popped the last bit of fried potato in his mouth and chewed in silence a few moments. "Casey's always been his mother's son. Y'know? I didn't mind it. I'm not a caveman, trying to get my son to be a quarterback when he's an artist, y'know?"
"Yea, he's said you've always been cool with that."
"Really?"
Zeke turned to Mr. Connor, finding another soft and curious expression on his face; he nodded. "Yea. He loves you guys. Appreciates."
Mr. Connor nodded, and for the first time since Zeke had shown up, he smiled. "He's a good boy. And he just--Momma's boy. Not an insult, just the truth. He takes after her in every way," he said. "I just wish I had the balls to fess up and make things go MY way, for once, instead of getting a new car-freshener to mask the smell of french fries."
"You do this a lot, huh?"
"Mmhmm. SOME-times I don't, like when she makes hamburger with mashed potatoes and gravy. THAT stuff? Yea. But no, it's beans, beans, rice, beans, carrots, government cheese, five outta seven."
Zeke sat straighter, belched loudly and patted his stomach before speaking. "The only way to get shit done in this case is to face it. You can be gentle or firm, or a bitta both. But... if me and Casey were roomies or something and he tried doing this? Aw, hells no. I'd bring that hammer down."
Mr. Connor snorted derisively. "Hah, you ain't married to Casey."
Something hard and uncomfortable sprang up in Zeke's stomach, and it had nothing to do with the two breakfasts he'd devoured. He sniffed and rubbed his nose a moment before shrugging and saying, "Well, no... still."
A few moments of deep contemplation went by until Mr. Connor nodded and stood. "No, y'know what? Yea, this is done. Today. Now. Are you heading back to our house?"
"Yea. Just had to get my checkbook, getting a computer at the mall with him. Stuff."
Mr. Connor nodded again, firmer this time. "Will you be my back-up?"
~*~
"Oh hey, you're back already?"
Mrs. Connor's excited voice rang out like a bell as Mr. Connor entered the house, Zeke following close behind. He got to the archway and looked in, finding Casey sprawled on the couch watching the tail-end of Saturday morning cartoon programming, while Mrs. Connor read an issue of 'Good Housekeeping'. Mr. Connor made a stiff smile. "Yea, there wasn't that much to do. Which means we're all going to go out to the mall."
"Oh?" Mrs. Connor said. She put the magazine down and grinned. "What for?"
"Well, Casey's going to help Zeke buy his computer--you and I are going to get a few things. It's been a while since you've gotten a stylish pair of shoes," Mr. Connor said.
"Shoes? Oh, honey..." Mrs. Connor waved a foot wearing what looked to be a fifty-year old sneaker. "...I LOVE these sneaks."
"So keep 'em and get some heels. Or flats, sandals, ANOTHER pair of sneakers, I don't care."
"I don't need them, though--"
"Then a dress. A real heart-stopping number. Or... perfume!"
The shake in his voice made Zeke worry. Mrs. Connor seemed to sense it, as well; she wore a confused frown. "Um, if you want... but I still don't need anything," she replied.
Mr. Connor took a deep, shaky breath through his nose, letting it out with his next words. "Then what do you want, Meredith? Think, what would you want? Like?"
"I..." Mrs. Connor looked to be thinking about complicated physics, her expression deep as she stared at the wall. It ended with a quick shrug. "...Instead of a department store, what about JoAnn's fabrics? I have this really great idea for a purse I want to make--"
"Meredith, BUY a purse! Let's BUY you one! I'm..." Mr. Connor made a quick shake of the head then stiffened his jaw. "Then after that, we're going out to dinner, just you and me."
"Dinner?" Mrs. Connor said.
"Yes, dinner. Then after that, the boys can have another sleepover while me and you go dancing. Or y'know what, scrap everything--we're not having dinner at some cheesy 'Outback Steakhouse', no, we're going to 'The Moonlight Lounge'. Live music, dancing under crystal, filet mignon, the works!"
Mrs. Connor's eyes went as wide as saucers. "Frank, that's ridiculous! First of all, it's two towns away, and with gas prices the way they are... and second, their menu prices are insane!"
"So?? For one night, just one night, you're going to let me treat you like a princess. Because you ARE my princess, so god damn it, let me do it!"
The words echoed off the walls as everyone went silent, staring at the red-faced, panting, desperate man. Mrs. Connor blinked wildly before sighing and holding up her hands. "Fine. Fine, we'll see..."
"And I'm getting a coffee maker."
Zeke wasn't expecting both Mrs. Connor and Casey to gasp. "Dad!" Casey blurted.
"What's so shocking about a coffee maker...?" Zeke said.
"Well, for one, ground coffee prices are NUTS. You can get the same coffee-buzz from Sanka, and two--"
"No, no. No. There is no 'two'," Mr. Connor interrupted his son to say while shaking his head briskly. "I want coffee. REAL coffee. It doesn't have to be some weird island blend imported from Tahiti, just--Folger's, whatever. But I'm having real, honest-to-goodness coffee from now on."
"Honey... you always said you LIKED the instant coffee," Mrs. Connor said in a soft, hurt voice. Mr. Connor cringed.
"I'm taking the honest road right now, buttercup--I do not, at all, whatsoever, like that coffee. And you shouldn't take it personally, because it's not like you harvested it and brewed it. It's... instant," he said.
"Next you'll say you want to drink Starbucks from now on," Casey interjected.
"I HAVE gotten puh-lenty of Starbucks coffee, Son. Don't you worry about that. Every Tuesday and Friday, in fact," Mr. Connor said. Again, Casey gasped and gawked.
"Dad!!"
"Oh, don't you 'Dad!!' me, I can do what I like with that eleven-buck escape hatch," Mr. Connor dismissively replied. He then dug into his pocket, grabbed his wallet and opened it. A fifty was taken out at thrust at Casey. "You know what you're going to do with this?"
Casey blinked, wild-eyed at the money. "Put it... in the bank?"
"NO. You and Zeke are going to check out stuff for his new computer and you're going to spend it on stupid, asinine bullshit. Candy? Go for it. A new video game? Yours."
"But that's birthday stuff, holidays--I like surprises like that!"
"And you have no idea how much respect I give you for that, Casey. Most kids your age are irresponsible little shits, twenty-four-seven. But this fifty isn't yours unless you promise me that you're going to buy things for no reason other than you can." Mr. Connor jerked a nod towards Zeke. "He'll tell me if you tried sneaking to 'Herrington Savings' to dump it off there."
Casey gave the man an odd frown but took the money gingerly. "Fine."
Zeke found some hope in this; Casey hadn't wormed his way out by using the 'this fifty isn't yours unless', by saying, 'Fine, I don't want the money then!' It was in his hot little hand, though what he'd DO with it was up for grabs. Mr. Connor nodded once then clapped his hands together.
"Okay--Casey, you go with Zeke. Meredith, get your coat."
~*~
Part Two!
But one made me mad. When I say mad, I mean growling and shaking my fist at the computer mad. It was a little gem titled 'Magical Disappearing Money' in which the main character is this super-grating witch that shows an entire grocery store full of people how to save money. Now fine, we should ALL learn to save money better me especially, lyk whoa but this was just... one suggestion in particular got me SO fired up, I yelled, "NO! NO, that is ri-DIC-u-lous, stfu!" and shook my head vehemently.
I can't give it all away cos' it inspired fic. Fic I've been writing and that I'm posting, like, here. Probably gonna be a two-parter. The only clue I'm giving as to what pissed me off is that it's in the fic, and it's drinkable. You will probably sense my ire in how I wrote it.
Title: Some Assembly Required--1
Pairing/Characters: Casey, caseycrushing!UST!Zeke, Mr. and Mrs. Connor
Warning(s): I don't think it NEEDS a warning, but a perv makes a very brief, stupid appearance. Based on vids I've watched before. You'll see.
Rating: PG-13 with a hint of R, if you squint.
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: A crack!fickish romp wherein Zeke learns about the dangers of frugality.
The grin Casey wore made Zeke both frustrated and amused. "Yea, you think you're just THAT awesome, huh?" Zeke said while shaking his head at the screen displaying his tenth loss in a row. No matter which Tekken character he picked, Casey beat him on every angle.
"Hey, when you grow up with almost NO friends, video games become your social calendar almost entirely," Casey replied. "Deal with it."
Sighing, Zeke sank into his beanbag chair and carelessly dropped his game controller on the floor. "Dude, I'm done. Congrats, you're a dick."
Casey gawked. "Wooow, Zeke 'Sore Fuckin' Loser' Tyler..."
"I'm just razzin' ya." Zeke jabbed Casey's side with his finger. The boy squirmed and rolled away.
"Cut it out, I'm ticklish," he said.
As Casey went about the business of shutting off his game system and going to his stereo to switch music, the temptation to grab the boy and tickle him into oblivion was almost crippling Zeke. They were friends--just friends, odd friends that came out of a very odd arrangement of circumstances. Less than two months ago, Casey was invisible to Zeke. Zeke wasn't one to socialize to begin with, rather enjoying being alone, but after MaryBeth? It felt good to have someone around, especially if that someone had not just dealt with what Zeke had to endure, but had been the one to end it with a bravery no one had seen before.
It wasn't until Zeke said, "Wanna come by, hang out?" for the first time and looked at Casey directly that he noticed how blue his eyes were. So fucking stereotypical; 'oh, they're gorgeous,' Zeke feeling like he was in a movie with music swelling in the background... he'd gone from being a loner art student's depressing film to a romantic comedy. That's how Zeke had started feeling toward Casey in the last few weeks; the boy was funny and adorable, making Zeke laugh and sigh at the same damned time. It was weird that Zeke didn't feel sick about going from T&A to thinking about what Casey looked like with his clothes off, his biggest lament becoming, 'Wish we'd had gym together at SOME point'.
No matter the rumors about Casey's sexuality, Zeke wasn't about to act on anything. Nothing scalded a teenage boy's confidence and self-esteem than to have "FAG!" or "HOMO!" yelled at him, so of course, Casey had received such torment over the years. Not anymore, though. Even if someone dared to snarl Casey's way--after all he'd DONE for the bastard--Zeke was usually right behind Casey to glare back and make them scurry off like a terrified squirrel. Zeke owed him that much, and more.
"Do you like 'Talking Heads'?" Casey asked, flashing the CD case at Zeke.
Good taste in music, too, played on a good stereo system. Zeke smiled and nodded. "Fuck yea," he said. Casey smiled and slipped the disc into the slot; soon enough, the room was filled with 80's goodness, warbling voices and synthesized madness making Zeke's feet tap into the air. The fact that he'd been skeptical about having a good time at Casey's place for an overnight felt silly, now. Casey had good music, fun games, a computer system to die for and a mother downstairs making dinner. Zeke didn't have to dig out a microwave meal for himself tonight--someone else was doing it for him, for once.
Speaking of parental units... "Casey?"
"C'mon in," Casey called to the door, which opened halfway for Mrs. Connor to look into with a smile on her face.
"Are you boys having a nice time?" she asked.
"Yea," Casey said, Zeke nodding along.
"Good! I just wanted to let you know that I need to head out for a bit; Auntie Mary called a bit ago to let me know she got more cheese and carrots," she said. "Can you keep an eye on the kitchen for me while I'm gone?"
"Sure," Casey said.
"Great... just add some water to the beans in just a little bit, and tomorrow's will need skimming," she said.
Zeke blinked furiously. Beans, skimming? Casey seemed to know what she was on about, nodding and standing. "'K. C'mon, let's go watch TV downstairs."
~*~
"That's... a lot of beans," Zeke said as he watched Casey stir the contents of a gigantic pot sitting on the stove.
"It's the Connor family's staple. They're good," Casey replied. He covered the pot and moved onto the other giant pile of beans, which sat in a large bowl of water. Zeke continued staring as Casey grabbed a tiny sieve and collected what looked to be a foamy-fat of some kind.
"The pool-boy of beans."
"Hah, sounds about right."
"Must be one big fart-fest around here."
Casey chuckled and rolled his eyes at Zeke. "Why do you think I'm skimming this stuff? THIS..." he said while dumping the contents of the sieve in the sink. "Is the main ingredient for farts."
"Yea?" God, Zeke was learning a lot about beans suddenly.
"Mmhmm," Casey replied in a hum.
"Sooo... what else is tonight's grub gonna be?" Zeke asked.
"Beans, rice, chicken and biscuits," Casey said.
"Chicken's good. What kind?"
"Boiled bird-breasts."
Zeke had been hoping to see a deep-fat fryer being dug out, but... "Sounds good."
~*~
The bag of carrots Mrs. Connor was carrying inside looked heavier than her son was. "Here, lemmee help," Zeke said after opening the door for her; he reached for them, but Mrs. Connor smiled.
"Thank you, Zeke, but--here, grab this instead."
A long plain box was held out to him. It, too, was large and heavy. Casey looked up from the beans and smiled.
"Beans are almost done," he said.
"Oh, good. Will you cut the cheese, Casey?"
'Won't we have enough of that after dinner?' Zeke joked in his head. He expected Casey to wander over to the fridge, but was surprised when Casey took the box from him, instead. The lid was removed and out came a giant block of neon-orange cheese product. For a moment, all Zeke could do was watch two-thirds of this family unit preparing dinner together with more food than Zeke had ever seen in his life. "Does this aunt have a farm, or something?" he asked.
Mrs. Connor chuckled while she struggled to find a spot in the fridge for the truck load of vegetables. "No--she lives in the apartments on Spruce Street. Since she never married, has no kids and I was her 'favorite niece', she shares her food benefits with us," she explained. "Lord knows she's too tiny to eat a whole bag of carrots and two blocks of cheese."
"That's not a 'whole bag'?" Zeke asked with amazement.
"No, just half."
'Just half'. More like 'Just a bag of carrots that could feed fifty horses for a month'...
"Want me to start the rice, Mom?" Casey asked.
"Sure. Should've started it earlier, really," Mrs. Connor said.
Zeke had been told that dinner was served at six, not a second later--it was quarter-past five at the moment, and though Zeke wasn't an experienced cook, he'd made rice before. The task took all but five minutes. Casey grabbed a bowl and measuring cup, opened a door at the far side of the room and went in. The flick of a lightswitch revealed a wide open space full of food. Curious, Zeke wandered over to watch the boy continue working. Casey was kneeling on the floor and reaching underneath a shelf to a large bag. When it was revealed as rice, Zeke frowned. "I usually get the boxed kind," he said.
"That's a waste. When you figure that a box of instant rice is about a dollar and twenty cents a pound, while regular rice is about eighty-five cents a pound..." Casey filled his bowl with two large cups of rice and stood. "...Sounds kinda dumb to go for instant, right?"
'No,' Zeke thought. He chose to shrug instead; Casey passed by him to get back to the stove, while Zeke moved into the pantry to get a better look. Bags upon bags about bags of beans lined one shelf, while countless cans of various vegetables sat on the one below. And how much tomato paste did one family-of-three need? Not to mention the rice, which Casey was now telling his mother was 'getting low'. The bulging bag Casey had tied off looked fit to burst.
The sound of the front door opening made everyone look down the hall. Mr. Connor, fresh from his workday at 'Stone and Phillips', the classiest and most popular homegrown department store in town, walked down and greeted them all with a smile. "Hi, guys," he said. He looked to Zeke and smiled wider. "Zeke, good to see you."
"'Same," Zeke cordially replied with a lift of his hand.
"Hi, honey," Mrs. Connor said. The man smiled and went over to give his wife a kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Connor sniffed a little. "Did you get a new cologne?"
"No, just another air freshener for the car."
"Ah..."
Casey looked to Zeke and smirked. "He's obsessed with the car smelling like the cologne department at the store," he said.
"Hah. Yea," was all Zeke could reply with.
"What's for dinner?" Mr. Connor asked. He went over to the bean pot, lifted the lid and made a thin-lipped smile. "Ah, looks good."
"I got carrots and cheese from Mary, too," Mrs. Connor said.
"It's the first of the month, all right."
Zeke flicked his eyes back to the man, who'd moved onto the fridge. A beer was taken out and he sighed, gave Zeke a quick smile before going into the living room. If Zeke's keen sense of hearing was sending his brain the right signal, there'd been an almost invisible note of 'this shit again?' in Mr. Connor's voice.
~*~
The plate of food being presented to Zeke was astounding in many different ways. For one, the enormous pile of rice and beans wasn't the variety the awesome Spanish deli on the corner of Main and Elm sold. He was thankful for the salt and pepper shakers on the table, as Mrs. Connor's love of seasoning showed in the plainness of her meals.
Secondly, Zeke had had a moment of hope when a butter dish was put out in the middle of the table, only to discover that it was margarine, a generic brand from 'Shop Rite'. He wasn't aware that anyone in town even shopped there anymore since the 'Stop & Shop' opened in town. 'Shop Rite' closed at eight p.m., for fuck's sake, and their deli blew.
Thirdly... it took Zeke a moment to realize that there was chicken on his plate as its pale coloring matched the plate and rice. The salt and pepper shakers would need filling once Zeke had finished eating--not an issue, considering the giant economy-sized tubs of both seasonings the Connors had in the pantry.
Astounding, in ways Zeke wasn't sure were good or not.
Now that everyone had been served, Mr. Connor smiled and folded his hands. Zeke watched Mrs. Connor and Casey move to do the same--grace. Fuck. Zeke quickly joined along, hoping the Connors didn't ask what church he went to. He wouldn't find the courage to lie.
"Dear Lord, thank you for this food and our health..." Mr. Connor led them in prayer. Once again, Zeke took note of his demeanor. While his voice was robotic, his nose twitched and his eyes blinked furiously as he spoke about god, their household, family, until... "...Amen."
"Oh! Darn it, the coffee, I forgot to make some," Mrs. Connor said just as everyone had picked up their forks. "Go on without me."
Zeke was about to ask if he could have some when Casey passed a pitcher to him. With a 'thanks,' Zeke took it and looked inside at the bright orange liquid. "Juice?"
"Mmhmm, orange." Casey said.
Flavor, at long last. Zeke filled the provided glass with the juice, put the pitcher down and took a sip. He frowned and glanced to Casey. "It's Tang."
"Yea," Casey matter-of-factly replied.
Tang WAS nice, but Zeke had expected pulp, not a sugar buzz. 'Stop being so rude,' he thought. Mrs. Connor was a kind woman, and this WAS a feast. Sort of.
"Here we go," Mrs. Connor said upon her return, holding two mugs. One was placed in front of Mr. Connor, who nodded.
"Thank you, dear," he said.
Zeke frowned. "That was fast," he said. "Your coffee maker must be better than mine."
"Oh--we don't have a coffee maker," Mrs. Connor replied.
No coffee maker... but there was coffee on the...
Oh no. Zeke, yet again, looked to Mr. Connor. The blank expression he wore while sipping lukewarm instant coffee was hiding something. Something dark and desperate. Zeke was sure of it.
~*~
There hadn't been enough salt on the planet, but Zeke had somehow managed to shovel down the bean-feast anyway. It mostly had to do with the smile Mrs. Connor had worn when she told Zeke, "I hope you like it; Casey's said that you don't get to have many homecooked dinners," while wearing the sweetest, most motherly smile Zeke had ever gotten.
"Yea, s'great," he said, fighting to speak past the mouthful of plain mush he'd been trying to chew and swallow for a full minute. Casey, however, had eaten with gusto, filling his cup only once more throughout the whole meal. Zeke had taken solace in his three servings of sugar-sweet refreshment.
But the biscuits? Even if butter wasn't present, they hadn't needed that OR the margarine. Given the choice, Zeke would've eaten the entire basket instead of the other dinner fare. Another perk, having a mother who thought that buying bread dough in a can was ridiculous. Homemade breads were also a staple here, something Zeke would come back for.
Now that it was finally over, Casey and his mother began clearing the table. Mrs. Connor smiled at the sitting men and said, "I'll be back with dessert," before heading off with Casey to the kitchen.
'Oh...' Zeke cooed in his mind. Dessert. He didn't care if it consisted of fruit or some other boring, sweet imposter. Smiling, he looked across the table to Mr. Connor. "Thanks for having me over. Mrs. C's right... it's mostly microwaveables for me, back home."
"Mmm, you won't find that here," Mr. Connor said with the most forced chuckle Zeke had ever heard. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Zeke."
"Yea." It now felt a bit awkward, sitting here waiting, wanting to ask, "Did YOU enjoy it, Mr. Connor?"
"Honey, where's your lunch bag?" Mrs. Connor called out.
"Oh... I left it in the car," Mr. Connor replied.
"Okay, go get it so I can put together the leftovers for you."
"After dessert honey, don't worry about it," Mr. Connor said with a quickness.
That dessert now entered the room, carried by Casey. A tray of cups filled with pudding and a box of graham crackers sat upon it. Simple and delicious enough, Zeke supposed.
~*~
"Dude, dude... no, tell him..." Zeke felt giddy as he leaned in to get a better look at the screen. "...Say that you HATE your English teacher."
Casey giggled and typed out his reply to 'bangin_baldies_42' in the MSN private chat box.
Mini_Minnie: i dunno if im gonna pass english this yr :(
Mini_Minnie: it was soooo much easier in 7th grade
bangin_baldies_42: awwww poor baby *kisses you gently on your cheek* cmere and sit on daddys lap ;-)
"Oh, barf..." Casey said, though he made hissing, stifled laughter with Zeke anyway. "Do I dare?"
"Yea. God, this guy's a perv," Zeke said while looking at the sidebar, showing the video image of a shirtless, overweight, middle-aged man. Though the technology made the video skip and halt, it was easy to see what the man wanted to do--and see, on Casey's end.
Mini_Minnie hops up into ur lap and giggles. "What now?"
bangin_baldies_42 puts his arm around u and rubs your leg. Why dont you turn on that webcam hunny he asks
Mini_Minnie: oh but im so shhhy *blush*
bangin_baldies_42: u dont gotta be with me bb. im letting u see ME, so its a lil unfair *pouts*
Sure enough, the pervert made an exaggerated sad face for the camera.
"Fuckin' dork," Zeke said.
"No, let's do it. Ready?" Casey asked. Zeke took a deep, chuckle-filled breath.
"Y-Yea."
Casey shook with giggles as he turned on the webcam, a state-of-the-art device. It didn't offer 'baldies' a view just yet; they needed to get a good, teasing shot, first. Zeke had never used one before, nor was his Commodore 64 capable of anything made after 1987. That would change, tomorrow. "Why does it have to be MY belly?" Casey said as he lifted his shirt up halfway.
"Because you're the one with a teenage-girl's body, dorkface," Zeke said, though he now found it hard to tear his eyes away from Casey's unblemished, pretty midriff.
"Jerk." Casey grumbled then clicked the camera's viewing options. While the pervert waited, Casey zoomed the cam in on his stomach, framing his bellybutton perfectly. "'K..."
God, he was pretty. Zeke masked his interest in staring at the screen, which at the same time allowed him to gaze at Casey's creamy skin.
bangin_baldies_42: u there bb?
Zeke took over this time to let the boy get everything sorted; he reached over to the keyboard and chuckled wildly.
Mini_Minnie: ya but no boobies yet k? imma let u see my belly :-D
bangin_baldies_42: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
"Christ," Zeke muttered.
"Okay, I'm set."
Zeke backed away for the moment to let Casey click the camera into action and join the chat. The view went from smooth-moving to jerky as the connection was made. After a brief pause, the girl-lover smiled wide.
bangin_baldies_42: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm u look so licable :P---
bangin_baldies_42: lickable*
Mini_Minnie: ty :-D ur sooooo sweet
bangin_baldies_42: mmmm yea now i want more *shy grin* but only if u want to\
bangin_baldies_42: can we turn on voice now?
It was obvious as to WHY the guy wanted to stop typing. One hand was already under the desk, the other resting on the keyboard. "Do it," Zeke said, nudging Casey's shoulder.
Mini_Minnie: ok :-) Casey typed back then clicked the audio settings into gear. He and Zeke went stone-silent as the speakers crackled with muted music coming from 'baldies' end.
"Hey, sweetheart," a thick voice spoke to them. Both boys cringed.
"Ew..." Zeke whispered. Casey sighed deeply and smiled wide.
"Hi!" he said in an ultra-squeaky voice, adding a girly-giggle.
"You're too good at that," Zeke once again whispered.
"You sound so cute. I wanna see your pretty face, honey," 'baldies' said.
"Okay! Ready??" Casey said as he clicked the man's username to pull up the 'report user' tab, just in case he bolted and left them empty-handed. Zeke prepared for it, slipping on his sunglasses and leaning in a little closer. As 'baldies' hummed with approval and nodded, Casey started zooming the camera out in halted clicks, until his half-covered chest started coming into view. He dropped the plain white fabric to cover himself; just before Zeke entered the shot, 'baldies' smile began disappearing.
"Um, what...?"
"SERRRRVED!" both boys yelled as the camera now showed something 'baldies' hadn't expected. Making faces and holding out their middle fingers, they whooped and hopped around.
"Hey! What're you--fuckers!!"
"Fuckin' perv! Welcome to MSN's perv-reporting!" Casey yelled.
"Oh no, too bad, so sad!" Zeke added while sticking out his lower lip.
"You still hard, Mr. Girly-Perv??" Casey said directly into the mike, holding it against his lips to make his voice sound loud and haunting.
No answer came; the man steeled his jaw and with a few rushed-looking movements clicked right off the screen. The two tricksters began howling with raging laughter. "Oh, we brought it!" Casey hooted.
"Royally motherfuckin' served. Send that report," Zeke said once he'd recovered.
All too happy to do so, Casey continued on filling out a complaint, citing 'soliciting a minor online' as the main offense. After screencapping, copy-pasting and attaching the documents into the form, it was sent along to MSN's watchdogs. Zeke raised his hand in the air, which Casey gave a hearty smack upon with his own. "Totally. Fuckin'. Served," Casey said.
"I gotta do this. Wanna come with me to the mall tomorrow and help me get a sweet piece like this?" Zeke said while motioning to the computer.
"Sure! You gotta get a cable connection if you want to cam like that, though. Dial-up works, but dial-up sucks," Casey said.
It was a well-known fact that cable internet was costly, and almost no one Zeke knew had it. He smirked. "Can I ask you somethin'?"
"Shoot."
"How did you manipulate your mom into spending two dollars a week on food so you can have this set-up?" he said in a jocular, teasing tone. It took Casey a moment to go from frowning to snide-smirking.
"Ha, ha."
"I'm kinda serious. I mean, beans are good for you, they're... filling, but..."
Casey sighed. "But what?"
"It's just--real cheap livin'."
Standing up and stretching, Casey said, "It's not about, 'oh my god, we're so poor we have to eat beans all the time!'"
"I didn't say that," Zeke said.
"I know. Mom's just always been like that, and it makes sense, y'know? Why spend triple the money on boxed stuff when you can make it yourself? Like... okay, Rice-A-Roni? Number one, the cost may not LOOK like a lot, but when you break it all down, you're paying triple just for the spices and the label, box, etcetera. You can add your own to some pasta and... voila."
"Yea, but..."
"And honestly... it's kinda fun, starting from scratch."
Zeke gave Casey a thoughtful look. "Like, cooking it?"
"Yea. When I was little, mom would let me play with the dried beans before we prepared them. I loved it. Better than a sandbox," Casey said. "I'd just dig my hands in. She sometimes let me do it after they'd soaked. THAT was cool, too."
"God... you're so weird," Zeke said, chuckling. Casey shrugged, smiled and blushed--oh god, adorable. A-DORK-able. "But okay, okay, I get it. As long as you tell me that you SOME-times head to McD's for a Big Mac, we're good."
Casey's face went blank. "Y'mean McDonald's?"
"Uh, yea."
"No, not really. Sometimes my grandpa took me, but... their food's too heavy. Processed. No thanks."
"Boys?" a voice called from the stairs while Zeke tried his best to not gape and gawk in shock.
"Yea, Mom?"
The woman opened the bedroom door and peeked in. "What went on in here a few ago?? I was outside on the porch with your father and we could hear you like you were sitting next to us," she said with a few chuckles.
"Oh--we were just playing Tekken again. Zeke finally won and he flipped out," Casey said.
Mrs. Connor sighed, wearing the motherly smile that made Zeke feel warm. "Well, don't give yourselves heart attacks before you hit your twenties. And it's getting on midnight--bed soon, okay?"
"Sure," Casey said.
"Mmkay." With that, the woman left, shutting the door behind her. A small pause followed before Casey sighed and turned to look at Zeke with an embarrassed smile.
"Yea... I'm a dork with a midnight curfew on weekends," he said.
Forgetting about all of the food issues, Zeke shrugged and grinned. "I'd figured. 'Makes me jealous, actually."
"Hah, what, you WANT a curfew?"
"Not really. I want somebody there to GIVE one."
Casey's amused expression dimmed. "Oh. Yea..."
"Don't sweat it. Let's go brush our teeth, get in our footie-jammies and tell ghost stories or some shit," Zeke said, allowing Casey's smile to return.
~*~
Beanbags were comfortable enough to sleep on, but the vinyl Zeke's cheek was pressed against felt a little strange. It made an odd peeling sort of noise when his eyes opened and he turned his head up. Newborn sunlight was creeping through the windows and onto his blanket-covered feet, warming them. Not quite ready to be up-and-at-'em just yet, Zeke snuggled onto his side, tugged his big pillow under his head tighter and curled the blanket up past his chin with his hands.
Fresh, clean, new... that's what it felt like here. Being a lazy teenager with no parents around meant that laundry days were few and far between. Besides a quick throwing-in of jeans, underwear and a couple shirts every four or five days, he had enough clothing to not bother. But the linens department sometimes suffered--there hadn't been many girls he'd brought home, not because he was a stinky pig, but it could be better. Most of the girls Zeke had mistakenly hooked-up with were the type to wrinkle their noses in disgust in discovering he didn't believe one had to shower every damned day.
But that philosophy had matched Casey's frugal nature when he'd admitted it, the boy nodding fast and saying, "No, no! It's a stupid waste of soap and water--you HAVE to have some body oils on you to stay alive, for fuck's sake." Yet another reason to love the young man.
Love? Zeke perked up as he rested on that thought. Love. It smelled like it, here. Fluffy, fresh-scented comforters and pillowcases; dust-free shelves and decor; homemade dinners. 'Beans,' he drowsily thought, almost chuckling. He held back however and shot his eyes over to the nearby bed where Casey was sleeping.
"You're the guest, take my bed--go ahead," Casey had said when they'd gone to settle in for a good night's rest. Zeke had refused to take the offer for a myriad of reasons, the main one being that in laying under those covers and resting on the pillow, the only thing he'd feel was Casey through scent. His hair, body, certain areas that carried the most pheromones, feet... Zeke loved Casey's feet. Not too smelly, not too fresh and with the cutest toes known to mankind. So Casey had finally sighed with defeat, said, "Your loss," and the pair settled in for two hours of whispered conversation. Zeke couldn't quite remember most of it. It was typical chuckling, joking around, nothing incredibly ground-breaking. Just two boys not ready for sleep just yet.
In the here and now, Zeke could see that Casey's eyes were still closed, body still besides the slow rise of breath making his body sway up, up... then down, down. Zeke stared at the messy hair parted erratically, making Casey look like an anime character. Zeke's brain buzzed and made him feel more aware of his surroundings, the other occupant sharing it with him. Drowsiness faded away and Zeke moved to sit up. Once upright, he continued staring at Casey with the new vantage point, which allowed him to see Casey's face. Well, most of it; the young man had made a cocoon out of his blankets, his lips covered by a puffy fold of his comforter.
Zeke opened his lips and almost, almost said, "Hey Case, wake up", but no... he couldn't. He realized that this was one of the most intimate moments he'd ever shared with Casey, the boy not even knowing it because... 'I'm watching Casey sleep,' Zeke thought. He shuffled over closer to get to the edge of the bed. Not wanting to make any sudden moves, Zeke rested his arm over the empty spot between the edge and Casey. 'Don't--SAY something, wake him up...'
"Haa-mm..."
Zeke's nose twitched as he watched Casey's movements, his cheek burrowing slowly against the pillow before he stilled again. The hidden-blues were moving back and forth slowly. Was he dreaming? What of? Without realizing it, Zeke nudged up and moved in even closer; he could now feel the soft breaths coming from Casey's nose, drifting over clean sheets to Zeke's face. Zeke pursed his lips then looked to Casey's, which were just poking out the littlest bit. Zeke didn't care how stupid-poetic, cliched it was--rosebuds. Even if Casey suddenly yawned and let out a burst of morning-breath, Zeke would smile and think he was sticking his face into a bed of sweet flowers. This was getting out of hand. Any moment now, those eyes were going to flutter open and find Zeke inches away from him, gazing at him like a lover. That moment came in a sudden snap, instant-blue staring back at Zeke.
'Do something!' Zeke panicked inwardly before belting, "BOO!"
Casey yelped and his body seemed to fly back into the wall behind him. Sleep-laden syllables Zeke swore meant, 'You asshole!' were blurted before Casey stilled and stared at Zeke, wide-eyed and breathing hard.
"You asshole!"
~*~
Given last night's dinner, Zeke wasn't expecting a delicious feast of animal fat for breakfast. He was resigned to having simple cereal and juice, or what passed as juice in this household. It made him linger a little longer in the bathroom, instead of rushing down to enjoy nuts and berries in a bowl of cold milk. McDonald's was out, but 'Barty's', Zeke's favorite diner, was homegrown and had good food, real food that Casey would probably get into. 'Maybe next weekend,' Zeke thought as he went down the stairs and walked to the kitchen where Casey sat at the table, Mrs. Connor bringing breakfast to him.
An orange. Fruit. Hope swelled in Zeke's stomach as he smiled his way to the table. "Morning," he said.
Mrs. Connor turned away from the fridge and grinned wide. "Good morning, honey. Go on and sit down; I'll get you guys fed."
'Honey'. She didn't know what that meant to Zeke, did she? With the song 'Feelin' Groovy' popping into his head, Zeke got into the chair facing Casey, plucked an orange from the bowl and began peeling it. "Time's it?" he asked.
"Uh... nine-forty," Casey said after a look to the oven's clock.
"Mall opens at ten. I'll have to run home and get my checkbook, but you wanna head out after that?"
"Sure."
"Are you going shopping?" Mrs. Connor asked as she returned to the table with two glasses of milk.
"Yea--Casey's computer got me jealous," Zeke replied.
"Oh, you're going to get one? It'll be great for when you're in college," she said. "I dunno if I'll ever get the hang of that internet-stuff myself."
Zeke shrugged a shoulder and moved the offered glass in front of him. "It'll take me a bit, but I'm geared-up for it," he said. He went to turn to the woman and keep talking but stopped and stared at what she was bringing down from the cupboards.
Grape-Nuts. Of all the motherfucking cereals on the planet, these people ate the most bland, pebble-like foodstuffs that existed. It was Zeke's unwavering opinion that the enamel-breaking breakfast had been developed in Nazi Germany, escaped war criminals sneaking it into the country to continue their evil deeds. Just the sound of it being poured into the glass bowls was like nails on a chalkboard. Feeling like an animal stuck in a bear-trap, Zeke could only watch as Mrs. Connor grabbed the pitcher of milk and poured it on. The next moment, it was being presented to him with that sweet, Mommy smile.
"Here you go, boys," she said. Casey smiled and took up his spoon.
"Thanks, Mom."
"Thanks," Zeke murmured as he stared into the milky-nuggety mess.
"Morning, everyone."
A blessed distraction came as Mr. Connor entered the room, already fully-dressed. Mrs. Connor went back to the box of cereal. "Hi, sweetie. Go on and sit, the boys have started eating--"
"Actually, I'm gonna head out. Marcus called a bit ago on my phone, asking if I can come by early to approve a new line of menswear someone's trying to sell to us," Mr. Connor interrupted to say.
"Oh. Well, you'll be home earlier, right?" Mrs. Connor asked.
Mr. Connor nodded and grabbed an orange before turning to head out. "Bye, guys, have fun--"
"Wait, your lunch!"
Zeke watched as the man went shock-still, watching his wife dig out the vinyl lunch bag from the fridge. It was handed over with a smile and quick kiss. "Love you," Mrs. Connor said.
"Love you too, buttercup," Mr. Connor replied.
Zeke turned away as the man now left--oh god. It was still there, wasn't it? He bit his lip then took up the glass of milk. It was lifted and tipped to his lips to sip when Zeke stopped dead. What... was that? What was that smell? He moved the glass away from his mouth and sniffed the air, frowning. When he looked back to Casey, he found the boy chewing blissfully--the smell was gone. Zeke blinked wildly then went to take a sip again. He smelled it just as the liquid reached his lips...
"What's wrong?"
Zeke must have looked as horror-struck as he felt. He stared at the confused-looking Casey and swallowed. "What--kinda milk is this? Skim?"
"No, it's whole milk," Casey said.
"It is?"
"What's wrong?" Mrs. Connor asked now.
Zeke turned halfway, holding the milk. "Just--asking what percent the milk is."
"Why, trying to keep your girlish figure?" Mrs. Connor grinned like an imp and winked.
"I..."
"I think it's whole, lemmee look." Mrs. Connor clucked her tongue as she went to the cupboards and pulled out a box. Zeke literally gasped as she brought out the 'Price Rite' brand... no. No, no, no... "Yea, it's whole. I'm sorry honey, are you used to another kind?"
'Yea, I'm used to MILK!' Zeke felt like screaming. "A-Actually, is there any Tang left?"
"Oh, of course! I'm sorry, I should've asked... Casey, do you want to drink it?" Mrs. Connor motioned to Zeke's full glass.
"Sure."
Zeke darted his eyes back to Casey, whose empty glass was put aside and Zeke's taken. Less than an hour before, Zeke had longed to kiss those little rosebuds, but now...?
The doorbell rang then; Mrs. Connor 'hmmed' and shuffled out, her slippers making a swoosh-ing noise over the linoleum. A moment later, they heard her cheerful voice greeting someone, mumbled conversation... "Casey?"
"Ya?" Casey called through a mouthful of the disgusting cereal.
"Can you come here a minute? Mrs. Clausen brought us a bunch of veggies from her garden!"
"Sure."
Zeke watched the young man trot off to the front of the house. 'Now's your fucking chance!' he thought. Bolting up, he grabbed his bowl and rushed to the sink; "Thank god," he muttered aloud in finding the garbage disposal at the left side's bottom. He dumped the contents of the bowl out and into where this shit belonged: a place to put disgusting garbage no reasonable person should consume. He made a quick, paranoid glance over his shoulder.
"Really, it's so much! Are you sure...?"
"After your brought us those lovely bean dinners when Henry came home from surgery? I owe you, Meredith."
With the family still preoccupied, Zeke smacked the spigot to wash the fake-milk and cereal away, disappearing into the nothingness. After he was sure the deed was done, the water was shut off, he took a deep breath then sauntered to the doorway looking out towards the front. Casey was approaching, smiling like an idiot while carrying a bulging plastic bag. "Check it out... zucchini!" he said, showing off the contents.
"Awesome. I'm gonna head out and get my checkbook, be back in a bit," Zeke said.
"Okay!"
~*~
Zeke's stomach was outright screaming at him as he drove away from his house, checkbook in his bag. He could have grabbed blindly for something to eat from HIS pantry, but it wouldn't be enough. Chips, pretzels, a can of mixed nuts--nothing would do. He needed breakfast. A breakfast dripping with grease, LINES of oil escaping wax-paper coverings and oozing down his arm. Casey could be as batshit insane as he wanted to be, but Zeke wasn't going straight back to the Connor household. Not until he'd shoveled three or four styrofoam containers worth of McDonald's 'Big Breakfast's into his greedy maw. He panicked a moment but calmed with a quick look to the clock: 10:40. Eleven o'clock was the cut-off for breakfasts here, so he'd make it.
The GTO made a roar resembling Zeke's insides as he pulled into the lot of the restaurant. The place was packed, but the drive-thru only had one car at the ordering area. Zeke got behind them and waited, knees jerking up and down as he smelled the grease-laden air mixing with exhaust, pavement and the river-water that ran behind the nearby shopping plaza. Delicious.
It wasn't long before the minivan in front of him moved, allowing him to take a turn. The handful of seconds he waited through for the worker to say, "Welcome to McDonald's, would you like to try our new McGriddle sausage sandwich?" was excruciating. Before he could blurt out his order, he saw the very 'McGriddle' the girl spoke of.
"Yes, two!" he called out more urgently than what was warranted.
"Anything else?"
"Two hashbrowns."
Pause. "Okay, two sausage McGriddles, two hashbrowns..."
"And... a milkshake," Zeke added. "Chocolate. Large. That's it."
"Would you like the McGriddle meal-deal instead with another drink? It's cheaper."
'Who the fuck cares, fucking FEED me!' Zeke shook his head clear. "I--sure, sure, two shakes, make 'em mediums."
Pause, pause, pause... "Okay, Sir, that'll be ten-eighty; please drive up to the first window."
"Thanks," Zeke said in a rush before pulling up. Thankfully for him, the other car had been simple enough to let him get to the first window, pay then pull up to the second. He drummed his fingers on the wheel while waiting for the bubbly-blond on the other side of the window talking to another young man to 'shut the fuck up and get my food!' Exasperated, Zeke slammed his head back onto the headrest, turned to the side lot and stilled with a frown.
The red sedan sitting in the plaza's lot next to the 'Herrington Savings Bank' ATM booth was extremely familiar. Zeke straightened as he spotted the familiar bumper sticker upon it, as well; it wasn't that far away, allowing him to read the words 'My Son is a Herrington High Honor Student'.
"Here you go, Sir," the chirpy-blond said as she held out Zeke's food and drinks. He startled, turned and took the items, then nodded.
"Thanks," he said before putting the car in drive; before pulling away, he looked again to Mr. Connor's car, noticing now that the driver's side door was open, two legs sticking out...
Zeke nodded to himself and drove off, but instead of pulling into a spot in the McDonald's lot, he left it to head to the plaza's. Mr. Connor didn't seem to notice the muscle car's roar, too preoccupied with heading over to a nearby trash can. Zeke spotted a plastic container in the man's hand; the lid was pried off and the contents dumped into the bin. Sighing sadly, Zeke didn't bother going the covert route, choosing to pull in right next to the sedan. Mr. Connor turned his head, looked back to the trash then did a double-take. 'That poor man,' Zeke thought as he shut the engine off and stepped out.
Mr. Connor took a deep breath and straightened. "Hello, Zeke."
"Hi."
"You rat me out and I'll tell my wife I saw you soliciting prostitutes."
It was instantaneous. Zeke gnawed his lower lip, turned back to the GTO and reached over to the bag of food and one of the shakes. It was all brought over to the hood, where Zeke sat down and began unwrapping maple-sausage heaven. He tried staring back at Mr. Connor but in taking his first bite, his eyes rolled back and his salivary glands went into overdrive. "Ohhh fug me."
When his eyes reopened, Mr. Connor was still watching Zeke with a wary eye but was now heading back to the car. Zeke expected him to hop in and roar off, but instead, he drug out his OWN McDonald's bag, went around the hood of the sedan and over to Zeke's car to join him.
For a few moments, they sat in silence as they ate, ate and ate, Mr. Connor having gotten two bacon, egg and cheeses on English muffins and two hashbrowns himself. Before Zeke moved onto the last of his second McGriddle, he flicked his eyes to the man gorging away beside him. "I don't know how you've done it, Mr. C. I really don't," he said.
A grunt, sniff and sigh was made by Mr. Connor, who dropped the hand holding his hashbrown against his bent-up knee. He stared out at the lot a few moments before replying, "She didn't grow up in a poorhouse, but her mother instilled it all in her... it's been like this since we were married. I don't know either."
"I'm sorry, man," Zeke said with all the sympathy in the world. Mr. Connor sensed it, his expression softening as he nodded.
"It's okay. I've managed to... manage it," he said. "I just... I went to college for business, got my master's in it, all to make damned sure I could provide for a family. I'm old-fashioned like that; if my wife didn't have to work, if she could stay home with our kid instead of daycare... I mean, it isn't to say women CAN'T work, I have great girls working with me at--"
"It's okay, Mr. Connor. Really. It is," Zeke said, wanting the man to feel at ease with him. He needed someone right now.
"Anyway... Mer's the best, I love her so much. She's always been wise with money, never takes advantage of my paycheck like SOME guy's wives I know... but... beans."
Zeke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Yea. I got a first-hand look. I worried that we'd entered some time-tunnel back to wartime strife and we were about to be bombed by the Germans. Why do you think I'm here?"
Mr. Connor suddenly startled and looked at Zeke with a wary, curious gaze. "Zeke--you didn't drink that milk, did you?"
"Hells no."
"Good. Good. I'd hate to think... Casey's never had friends over. After all the crazy crap that went down and... there you were, being his friend. I was actually so fucking paranoid that you'd go running for the hills then dump Casey's books the next time you saw him in school after being forced to drink that goddamned shit," Mr. Connor said in a hissing rush. It was obvious that the man needed to honestly, truly vent. "The worst part is that she's got him doing it--she's got Casey weighing stuff, bringing calculators to the grocery store if he makes a food-run for her, mountains of coupons--and he LIKES it. Or he seems to."
Zeke nodded. "Good habits with money, all well and good, but--"
"But not like THAT. It's ridiculous!" Mr. Connor interrupted to say. "GET the store-brand milk instead of 'Hood', I don't care. GET beans--do they have to be dry? Seriously?"
"The only beans in MY diet come from microwave burritos," Zeke said with a chuckle. Mr. Connor outright moaned.
"Ohh my god. LOVE those," he said. "Or those Jamaica-patty things, the kind with spicy meat--"
"Yes, yes, the beef are best," Zeke said.
"Mmm." Mr. Connor sighed wistfully, popped the last bit of fried potato in his mouth and chewed in silence a few moments. "Casey's always been his mother's son. Y'know? I didn't mind it. I'm not a caveman, trying to get my son to be a quarterback when he's an artist, y'know?"
"Yea, he's said you've always been cool with that."
"Really?"
Zeke turned to Mr. Connor, finding another soft and curious expression on his face; he nodded. "Yea. He loves you guys. Appreciates."
Mr. Connor nodded, and for the first time since Zeke had shown up, he smiled. "He's a good boy. And he just--Momma's boy. Not an insult, just the truth. He takes after her in every way," he said. "I just wish I had the balls to fess up and make things go MY way, for once, instead of getting a new car-freshener to mask the smell of french fries."
"You do this a lot, huh?"
"Mmhmm. SOME-times I don't, like when she makes hamburger with mashed potatoes and gravy. THAT stuff? Yea. But no, it's beans, beans, rice, beans, carrots, government cheese, five outta seven."
Zeke sat straighter, belched loudly and patted his stomach before speaking. "The only way to get shit done in this case is to face it. You can be gentle or firm, or a bitta both. But... if me and Casey were roomies or something and he tried doing this? Aw, hells no. I'd bring that hammer down."
Mr. Connor snorted derisively. "Hah, you ain't married to Casey."
Something hard and uncomfortable sprang up in Zeke's stomach, and it had nothing to do with the two breakfasts he'd devoured. He sniffed and rubbed his nose a moment before shrugging and saying, "Well, no... still."
A few moments of deep contemplation went by until Mr. Connor nodded and stood. "No, y'know what? Yea, this is done. Today. Now. Are you heading back to our house?"
"Yea. Just had to get my checkbook, getting a computer at the mall with him. Stuff."
Mr. Connor nodded again, firmer this time. "Will you be my back-up?"
~*~
"Oh hey, you're back already?"
Mrs. Connor's excited voice rang out like a bell as Mr. Connor entered the house, Zeke following close behind. He got to the archway and looked in, finding Casey sprawled on the couch watching the tail-end of Saturday morning cartoon programming, while Mrs. Connor read an issue of 'Good Housekeeping'. Mr. Connor made a stiff smile. "Yea, there wasn't that much to do. Which means we're all going to go out to the mall."
"Oh?" Mrs. Connor said. She put the magazine down and grinned. "What for?"
"Well, Casey's going to help Zeke buy his computer--you and I are going to get a few things. It's been a while since you've gotten a stylish pair of shoes," Mr. Connor said.
"Shoes? Oh, honey..." Mrs. Connor waved a foot wearing what looked to be a fifty-year old sneaker. "...I LOVE these sneaks."
"So keep 'em and get some heels. Or flats, sandals, ANOTHER pair of sneakers, I don't care."
"I don't need them, though--"
"Then a dress. A real heart-stopping number. Or... perfume!"
The shake in his voice made Zeke worry. Mrs. Connor seemed to sense it, as well; she wore a confused frown. "Um, if you want... but I still don't need anything," she replied.
Mr. Connor took a deep, shaky breath through his nose, letting it out with his next words. "Then what do you want, Meredith? Think, what would you want? Like?"
"I..." Mrs. Connor looked to be thinking about complicated physics, her expression deep as she stared at the wall. It ended with a quick shrug. "...Instead of a department store, what about JoAnn's fabrics? I have this really great idea for a purse I want to make--"
"Meredith, BUY a purse! Let's BUY you one! I'm..." Mr. Connor made a quick shake of the head then stiffened his jaw. "Then after that, we're going out to dinner, just you and me."
"Dinner?" Mrs. Connor said.
"Yes, dinner. Then after that, the boys can have another sleepover while me and you go dancing. Or y'know what, scrap everything--we're not having dinner at some cheesy 'Outback Steakhouse', no, we're going to 'The Moonlight Lounge'. Live music, dancing under crystal, filet mignon, the works!"
Mrs. Connor's eyes went as wide as saucers. "Frank, that's ridiculous! First of all, it's two towns away, and with gas prices the way they are... and second, their menu prices are insane!"
"So?? For one night, just one night, you're going to let me treat you like a princess. Because you ARE my princess, so god damn it, let me do it!"
The words echoed off the walls as everyone went silent, staring at the red-faced, panting, desperate man. Mrs. Connor blinked wildly before sighing and holding up her hands. "Fine. Fine, we'll see..."
"And I'm getting a coffee maker."
Zeke wasn't expecting both Mrs. Connor and Casey to gasp. "Dad!" Casey blurted.
"What's so shocking about a coffee maker...?" Zeke said.
"Well, for one, ground coffee prices are NUTS. You can get the same coffee-buzz from Sanka, and two--"
"No, no. No. There is no 'two'," Mr. Connor interrupted his son to say while shaking his head briskly. "I want coffee. REAL coffee. It doesn't have to be some weird island blend imported from Tahiti, just--Folger's, whatever. But I'm having real, honest-to-goodness coffee from now on."
"Honey... you always said you LIKED the instant coffee," Mrs. Connor said in a soft, hurt voice. Mr. Connor cringed.
"I'm taking the honest road right now, buttercup--I do not, at all, whatsoever, like that coffee. And you shouldn't take it personally, because it's not like you harvested it and brewed it. It's... instant," he said.
"Next you'll say you want to drink Starbucks from now on," Casey interjected.
"I HAVE gotten puh-lenty of Starbucks coffee, Son. Don't you worry about that. Every Tuesday and Friday, in fact," Mr. Connor said. Again, Casey gasped and gawked.
"Dad!!"
"Oh, don't you 'Dad!!' me, I can do what I like with that eleven-buck escape hatch," Mr. Connor dismissively replied. He then dug into his pocket, grabbed his wallet and opened it. A fifty was taken out at thrust at Casey. "You know what you're going to do with this?"
Casey blinked, wild-eyed at the money. "Put it... in the bank?"
"NO. You and Zeke are going to check out stuff for his new computer and you're going to spend it on stupid, asinine bullshit. Candy? Go for it. A new video game? Yours."
"But that's birthday stuff, holidays--I like surprises like that!"
"And you have no idea how much respect I give you for that, Casey. Most kids your age are irresponsible little shits, twenty-four-seven. But this fifty isn't yours unless you promise me that you're going to buy things for no reason other than you can." Mr. Connor jerked a nod towards Zeke. "He'll tell me if you tried sneaking to 'Herrington Savings' to dump it off there."
Casey gave the man an odd frown but took the money gingerly. "Fine."
Zeke found some hope in this; Casey hadn't wormed his way out by using the 'this fifty isn't yours unless', by saying, 'Fine, I don't want the money then!' It was in his hot little hand, though what he'd DO with it was up for grabs. Mr. Connor nodded once then clapped his hands together.
"Okay--Casey, you go with Zeke. Meredith, get your coat."
~*~
Part Two!