Eleventy
Title: So You Think You Can Tell (Pt. 11)
Pairing: Casey/OMC (??), C/Z (past...ish)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Sometimes, moving on doesn't mean moving *apart*.
It’d been odd, Casey opening his eyes and feeling perfectly rested at ten-of-seven in the morning. Most nights he’d require at least eight straight hours, uninterrupted, in the comfiest spot of his bed he could find. But when he remembered where he was and sat up, he hoped someone else hadn’t woken up before him. He stretched his arms and made a deep, heavy yawn then almost startled as a soft snore came from his left. He found that Zeke hadn’t bothered heading upstairs to bed, but was curled up on the other end of the couch. The older boy shifted a little but his eyes stayed closed-which Casey hoped would stay that way, until he got a few things together.
First things first; with Zeke having taken care of Casey like they were together in many ways over the last few weeks, Casey was going to return the favor any way he could. He started by standing up, slow and soundless, then padding off to the kitchen. As he prepared the coffee maker to brew a full pot, he noticed the state of his slacks. ‘The ‘Gucci Gods’ should slay me for this,’ he thought at the many wrinkles he’d made, sleeping in his whole party-outfit… gift. ‘Whatever,’ Casey thought with a smirk as he moved to the fridge, opened it and scanned the inside.
Eggs, bacon, some shredded cheddar and even an onion… perfect. While Casey had always considered staying around in the kitchen to get cooking-tips from his mom, he did know how to make a perfectly-prepared, delicious omelet. He’d started cracking eggs into the mixing bowl he’d found in the cabinet under the counter at the same time the coffee began its slow but steady drip. The air around the brewing action began to grow warm and steam-up, making Casey stick close to it as he worked.
After chopping the onion, Casey swore he heard movement from the living room. ‘No, no, no…’ he panicked silently as he scurried to the doorway and peeked through the archway. He felt relief in seeing Zeke was still sleeping, and he’d just stirred a little in moving around. With an impish grin and the hope that he’d get to surprise Zeke with a ‘thank you’ breakfast, Casey set to work, quickening his pace a little.
Bacon was cooked just right, second pan heated with a hefty pad of butter… Casey’s smile grew in pouring the eggs over the hot, greasy surface, loving the crackling heat being sent into the air. With deft movements, he added the onions, cheese and bacon in even layers.
“Ungh… Case? C-Casey, you up?”
‘DAMN it!’ Casey yelled in his mind as he stepped away from the oven a second to call, “Yeah, be there in a minute!” before rushing back to finish the omelet-making.
“What smells so damned good? Coffee?”
“Uh, YEAH, coffee and… in a minute, I said!”
More noises and mumbling came, until Casey made the first flip of the cooked egg. But before he could grab a plate and throw everything together in the presentation he’d planned, Zeke shuffled in, mouth wide open to let out a yawn. He smacked his lips, looked over and stilled. “What… ya makin’?” he asked.
“Breakfast-in-bed, if you’d stayed there,” Casey said with narrowed eyes and sarcastic smirk.
“I smelled coffee… and whatever awesome shit you’re cooking up… damn, an omelet?”
“How about you go pretend you’re just waking up and you don’t KNOW it’s an omelet??” Casey said, even waving the spatula in a, ‘get out, you!’ motion toward the hall. Zeke rolled his eyes but his goofy grin gave him away as he sighed his way back into the living room.
Casey sighed with minor disappointment but smirked, knowing the boy would at least play along-however teasingly. That didn’t matter. What did was getting the omelet perfectly seasoned, along with making Zeke’s coffee just right. Casey filled a mug for himself then looked around for a surface to carry everything on. No trays, but the old cutting board tucked behind the toaster and knife block would do.
Zeke’s eyes were closed one second then snapping open the next. He sat up fast. “Boy, that was good sleep, hey, what’s this, oh my god you made me breakfast, how thoughtful-“
“Yeah, I DID, ya jerk, but with that kinda fakery?” Casey said, making a point in stopping halfway toward the couch; he even took a step back with his eyebrows raised, as if to warn him…
“C’mon, I can’t fake-it. So I break it.” Zeke smiled drowsily as Casey shook his head and went to the table to place the board down. He picked up his coffee and returned to the spot he’d slept on.
“Bacon, onion and cheese omelet,” he said as Zeke brought the coffee up to his lips first, took a long, slow sip then set it down; the plate was grabbed next, which he put a few inches under his face to take in the steamy aroma.
“God damn, that smells good,” he said. “Thanks. Didn’t have to, though.”
“You didn’t have to drive out to fuckin’ Stow, either. You’re welcome,” Casey said, wrapping his grin at the rim of his mug to take another gulp. If there was one thing better than getting to eat a home-cooked meal, it was watching someone else enjoying the one you made them. Zeke was definitely gobbling it down, his first few bites taken slow to savor it, then moving on to a faster, hungrier pace.
“Where’s yours? Why’m’I eating alone?” Zeke asked between heavy forkfuls.
“Eh… not that hungry. If anything, I’ll grab one of the apples I saw in your fridge. Other than that… it’s all you,” Casey replied.
The last bite was taken and chewed slower, as if Zeke was sad that he’d finished it so fast. He swallowed, gave a punch to his chest and sank back against the couch with a satisfied hum. He smiled at Casey, saying, “I feel cheated, y’know. Here we hooked-up for a whole five months, and this was the first time you made me an omelet as tasty as that? Pssh…”
“Hey, you’re the only one I’ve ever made one for, so hush your face,” Casey retorted.
“No. I’m gonna bitch about it now, you’ll just have to deal.”
“Then consider that your one and only ‘Omelet a la Casey’. Ever.”
Zeke went from defiant and stony to outright pouty. “That’s not fair.”
“You gonna stop bitchin’?”
“I’ll… think about it. But… Saturday morning cartoons.”
The switching of the subject made Casey chuckle; he settled in as Zeke turned the TV on, leaving it on the local ABC station from their infomercial-binging mere hours before. It felt good, knowing that instead of crying himself to sleep, Casey had instead laughed himself silly, dopey and eventually crashed with a smile on his face. He’d have to deal with the night before when he called Jeremy to go over things… but for now, Recess was on, and getting to lounge around with Zeke, both simply enjoying sharing space with each other, was everything Casey wanted right now.
~*~
While Casey had wanted to take the offer of a ride home, he’d told Zeke that if either or both of his parents saw the GTO dropping him off instead of the Audi, they’d be too suspicious. “I was gonna tell ‘em what happened, but… I’d rather give a Cliff Notes and white-lie version,” he’d said, and Zeke didn’t fight it. They’d shared a quick hug, Zeke reminded him, “twenty-of-seven, Monday, your place,” with a smile and Casey ventured out for the short but chilly walk home.
He was glad to see his father’s car missing from the drive, and in a sad way hoped he and his mother had gone out together. But in opening the front door…
“Casey? Is that you?” Mrs. Connor called from the back of the house. She appeared in the kitchen doorway and smiled. “Hi, honey!”
“Hey there,” he said, trying to smile back as he untied his shoes.
He expected her to rush in as she was, a flea-market-find in one hand and dust-rag in the other while asking, “So-o-o-o… how did the little ‘swanky soiree’ go, huh?”
While she was going to be kept in the dark on some things, Casey wanted to be truthful about some others. “The party… was good. Had some good times, especially at the pool…”
“Ooh, you went swimming? Jea-lo-o-ous…”
“No, we just hung out by it. Wasn’t in the mood. But, um…” he let out a heavy, tired breath and shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Some stuff between me and Jeremy happened, and… I’m gonna have to call him in a bit.”
The woman frowned. “What’s ‘some stuff’? Are… are you okay, sweetie?” she asked, even reaching to his hand to take into a squeeze. “And wait, didn’t he drop you off? He said he was going to get you back home by… well, now…?”
A little white lie was now introduced, Casey saying, “A friend of his who lives closer did. It was… needed.”
“Oh. Honey. Come on, let’s talk, tell me about this. Did you break up?”
Whatever role she’d taken as a ‘co-conspirator’ during those few days of her husband and Zeke’s scheming, her concern and worry for her son was obvious, and honest. Casey returned to the unpleasant and unsettling subjects, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he’d be revisiting them with Jeremy himself. She cooed at his retelling events, or scowled a little with disapproval as to how her son had been made an emotional mess-especially when it came to the ‘Tim tale’. She’d had plenty to say about him, using language that even surprised Casey to hear from her lips. On an every-day basis, her mouth was far filthier than her husband’s, but Casey had gawked in her describing Tim as a ‘snob-rat, dick-munching twat’. However shocking, he made sure to make a mental note of the brilliant, mom-inspired insults to use himself when he needed them.
When he was finished letting her know what he was willing to reveal-coke snorting young men left out, most of all-the woman gave him a motherly, somber smile and took his hand. “Even if things don’t work out with Jeremy, I feel a little… bad, for giving him my ‘evil eye’,” she admitted. “Maybe I needed to be more understanding. We might have to struggle more for every dollar that comes into the house, but I should’ve thought a bit more about what he has to deal with.”
“Yeah. Like Thomas had said, they can never feel safe being with someone, not knowing if they’re just gold-digging jerks. Jeremy… he’s probably so used to sharing the wealth that he overdoes it, sort of… protecting himself in saying ‘hey, I’m rich!’ before someone tries to sneak in… or… something,” Casey said.
“That’s a very adult way of thinking.” Mrs. Connor smoothed his hair at the top and moved down to cup the side of his face. “Either way, I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. Hey, I learned from the best, right?” he said with a wink.
“Flatterer. All right… I’m going to finish that last box of flea-finds, get ‘em nice and cleaned-up. Let me know if you need me for anything, okay? I’ll be right out back,” she said.
“Actually…” Casey looked to the clock over the TV. With the time at twelve-ten, he shrugged and smiled as he said, “I’ve got time before I gotta call Jer. Want me to join you? I should learn more about this stuff, anyway.”
“Ooh. An extra set of hands would help, sure,” she replied with a bright smile.
The pair stood up, left the room and headed toward the kitchen. Just as his mother had reached the box of things she’d been sorting through, the doorbell rang. “Oh… wonder who that is,” she said.
“I’ll get it,” Casey said. Hoping it wasn’t Zeke, stopping by to drop off a forgotten item with his mother in hearing-range, Casey hurried to the door, opened it and froze. “Oh. Jeremy.”
The young man wore a small smile, bobbing on the balls of his feet. “Hey. I, uh, tried calling you early this morning, but no one picked up…”
“Oh. Um, come in…” Casey stood off to the side and let the young man escape the cold. He stomped his feet to remove bits of snow and ice, shivering.
“I gotta get the car’s heating system ch-checked out… it conked out on the way h-here. Bought the damned thing brand new only a few months ago…”
“Ouch. That… sucks.”
“Who’s… oh! Hi, Jeremy,” Mrs. Connor arrived and greeted the boy. Casey looked to her and worried quietly to himself over whether she was going to act strange-or even annoyed at Jeremy, but she kept her small mom-smile on her face. “Are you all right? You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“Hah, just told Case… m-my car’s heater went on the fritz and died on me halfway here. I was ready to try and build a small campfire in the passenger seat to get warm,” he replied.
“Aw, poor thing. How about I fix you boys some tea? There’re some brownies left over from last night’s dinner, too, if you’d like?” she asked.
“That… sounds awesome, hah… th-thanks,” Jeremy said with a shaky but bright smile.
“You, uh-wanna head up to my room?” Casey asked. At Jeremy’s shrug and, “Yeah, okay,” Casey turned back to Mrs. Connor. “I’ll come back down in a minute for it, let me get him upstairs next to my space heater thingee.”
“Oh, I’ll bring everything up. Relax,” she said before turning away to get their warm-up refreshment ready.
Jeremy followed Casey up the stairs, sighing. “Your mom’s so nice,” he said.
“Yeah, she’s okay. Sometimes,” Casey joked. He made it to his room and immediately went to the space heater he used when it felt too drafty. Jeremy took a seat right next to it on one of Casey’s beanbag chairs, moaning lightly as the first blast of heat reached his frozen body.
“God, that’s nice…” he said, leaning forward to rub his hands together in front of it. “Almost forgot what ‘warmth’ was for a while, there.”
Casey smiled, tugged the other beanbag over next to Jeremy’s and sat down to join him. “What time did the party end last night? I wasn’t planning on calling you ‘til one or later, figuring you’d be up most of the night.”
“I’d headed up to the guestrooms a bit after two. Didn’t sleep that great, but… just woke up, got dressed and had a quick bite before heading out. Figured…” The boy sank back against the puffed-out vinyl and gnawed at his lower lip a moment. “…It’d be better to talk face-to-face, instead of over the phone.”
Casey made a solemn nod. “Not the worst idea, yeah,” he said.
Jeremy hummed and let his head fall back on the bag. He turned toward Casey and said, “It was hard… after you left. I know you wanted me to stay with all my friends while you made your own way home, but after… hey, wait…”
“What?”
“Did you… sleep in those clothes?” he asked.
“Oh. Uh, yeah…” Casey said, making Jeremy chuckle.
“Boy, you don’t treat Gucci that way! Geez!” he teased playfully, but his smile only grew wider.
“I’ll… wash and iron it all out, sorry,” Casey bashfully replied.
“Oh, I’m just teasing. I gave ‘em to you, remember? You can make ‘em pajamas, if that’s how you like them,” Jeremy said.
Casey smiled back then sighed, asking, “Did I just-ruin your night, though? I really didn’t want to, seriously.”
“You didn’t do anything, really. Thomas helped me out, took care of me a while. I’ll admit… after you left, I kinda had to go cry in the bathroom for a bit…”
“Oh, god…” Casey muttered with woe. “Jer, I’m-“
“Stop, it’s okay. Really. Like I said… when I came out, Thomas found me and took me aside a while to talk. I got to vent a bit, be upset and he just-listened. We talked about you, the stuff that had happened and what we thought about it all,” Jeremy explained. “He said some of the same stuff you had, with a bit more. He got me to kinda… admit a few things.”
“Admit… what?”
“Well… you always roll your eyes when I’ve offered to give or buy you something, whatever. And I’ll push it. It’s never been cos’, like… you’re a big pity-case to me. It’s that, y’know, I CAN give things to someone I want to give things to,” he said. “But Thomas started asking me things about it, and how maybe… maybe I overdo it cos’ I was trying to get distance between me and… me, how I’d been not too long ago.”
“Y’mean, like when you’d dated Tim, there? Thomas, he told me a bit about that history,” Casey said; Jeremy nodded slowly.
“For a little bit, Thomas kinda scared me, cos’ I started wondering-WAS I treating you like a charity case, because I was trying to do a bunch of good deeds to make up for being a snobby prick in the past? But he helped me out with that. He said he’d seen how I really did care about you, for just you.”
“You have, Jer. ‘K? I’ve felt that enough, so don’t worry about it.” Casey slumped lower in the seat, smiling. “Sometimes I’d feel bad, turning down your offers and stuff. I knew you just wanted me to have everything I’d ever need for my camera work, to look nice in-well, I’m not doing the Gucci you gave me ANY favors, like this…”
Jeremy chuckled then clucked his tongue. “Never seen those pants so dang wrinkled…”
“But yeah. You do it cos’ you want to help, honestly help. You’ve seen what being a snob does for you, or anyone else-like Tim. And as upset as he made me, in those minutes I was around him? Well, so what? I know I’m fine how I am… but I doubt he thinks the same, of himself. You don’t act the way he does if there’s nothing wrong with you. So in a way, I feel sorry for the guy,” Casey said.
“Hah, that makes you leagues better than me, then…”
“You’re allowed. You’re his ex. Duh.”
“Yeah… speaking of exes…” Jeremy scratched the back of his neck and scrunched his nose as he asked, “Did you tell Zeke about what went on? Hope he wasn’t mad, or anything.”
“He… had some issues, thinking you should’ve dropped everything and taken me home. But I told him that I hadn’t wanted you to have your friends-night take a hit, having to cart my sad-ass home. And he doesn’t think you’re a jerk. He just… looks out for me, is all.”
“Mmm, I could tell,” Jeremy said with a smirk.
“Hah, yeah?”
“He doesn’t hide things as well as he thinks he does. Even if he’s shifting stuff around to be more like your ‘big brother’, he loves you. I’d throw down a few hundred purple chips on it.”
Casey laughed and felt his cheeks go warm. “Well, I dunno… I mean, so you know, I did spend the night at his place last night-didn’t want to go home that late and have my parents run around worrying-“
“Boys?” Mrs. Connor’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Casey, can you get the door?”
Casey frowned, stood and opened his bedroom door. Sure enough, the woman had carried up a tray for them that held a plate full of delicious looking brownies and two big mugs of ‘English Breakfast’ tea. “Wow, thanks, Mom,” he said as he carefully took the tray from her.
“You’re welcome, Casey. Enjoy,” she said before shutting the door for Casey and leaving them in privacy again.
“Speaking of parents…” Casey said, chuckling as he set the tray between them.
“Really awesome parents,” Jeremy added. When he picked up the brownie on top, he cooed. “Aw, she warmed ‘em.”
“She always does.”
“So, um… Zeke’s place, you were saying?”
Though he made the words come out in a suspicious tone, the coy smirk Jeremy wore as he took his first bite of brownie assured Casey that he wasn’t angry. “Yeah, wanted to avoid… fam-drama. Spent the night on the couch, fully-clothed… evidence is right here, still,” he said, patting the heaviest spot of wrinkles on the slacks.
“I trust you, Casey. Though… wouldn’t have blamed you.”
“Um, huh? Hold on, I’ve always said I’d never cheat, especially leaving the party and you on such-“
“I’m KIDDING, Casey, again! God.” Jeremy chuckled heavily, almost dropping a loose chunk from the brownie he held, catching it in his other hand at the last minute. “I’d meant more that he’s one hot motherfucker. Don’t think I’ve made that a secret, right?”
“No-o-o-o…” Casey drawled.
“That’s the best part, here; I can say that to you about your ex, while you aren’t allowed to agree with me,” Jeremy teased yet again. This time, Casey scrunched up his face and gave his leg a hard slap. “Hey!”
“You’re ridiculous,” Casey said.
A moment of silence allowed them to drink their tea and continue brownie-binging together. It felt odd, Casey realizing that he’d never felt this level of close comfort with him before. Before he could say anything, Jeremy chewed the last bite of his second brownie, sighed and gave Casey a soft expression. “Teasing and stuff aside… I think… you were right, saying we’re really different. That maybe it’s that we’re too different. But that doesn’t mean that I could just stop caring about you. You’re someone-worth caring about, y’know?”
Emotions swelled deep inside of Casey’s chest. While it was starting to get painful to hold onto, it felt like a good pain. In some strange way, human beings maybe needed to appreciate the ability to feel emotional pain, even loss; it only meant that something meant something enough to go through that pain to begin with. “You’re not just some ‘spoiled rich boy’ either. I know that much,” he said. “In a way… I envy you, how easy you mix into a crowd of friends, how bold you can get. I can’t do that so easily. But.,. you’re that guy who can take two strangers, put them in the same room and have them come out best friends. It’s infectious-rare, even.”
“Aw.” Jeremy blushed; the rims of his eyes had grown a darker pink than Casey was used to seeing.
“Please don’t cry. Cos’ then I’m gonna cry. Then my mom’ll come up to see what’s going on and she’ll start to cry…” Casey said, but knew it was coming anyway. However tired and sore his face and eyes felt, tiny tears were forming. Jeremy’s distinctive sniff he made caused the first one to fall, then another from the other side. He looked up to Casey, scoffed lightly and brought his hand to the side of his face.
“Hypocrite,” he said, running his thumb over the small drop going down Casey’s cheek and smoothing it away. That was when two of his own tears escaped, which made him groan and swipe his hand over his own face. “Okay, like we’re not gonna see each other again? Geez…”
“I’d hoped that however this shit went, we’d end up friends. I hate it when you hear about people turning on each other the second they break up, and-“
“We can’t be friends, Casey.” Jeremy shook his head slowly, looking stern at the moment. Before Casey could really get the waterworks going, Jeremy’s tight-lipped expression melted into a wide, teary but hopeful, grin. “Not when I’d rather make you a bestie.”
Casey punched out a heavy breath that released the tension Jeremy had made for him. “Don’t DO that…” he said, now chuckling and shaking his head.
“But you like that, right? Being a ‘bestie’ is like, three tiers up from ‘best friend’ on the friendship scale,” he said, making a visual demonstration with his hands, one held a foot higher above the other.
“is it-crazy to say that, this is probably going to… like… be the best, most favorite breakup I’ll ever have?”
Why they both melted into a giggle-fit together was a mystery, but Casey figured that’s how he and Jeremy were, really. Two guys who could’ve eventually fallen in love, gotten married-when the world caught up to what was right, anyway-adopted ten kids and grew old together, but came to discover they were better-off meaning something else to each other. Casey ended up being pulled in against Jeremy, sharing the same beanbag as he squeezed Casey tight. “That’d be an honor, actually. I’m someone’s ‘favorite break-up’,” he said, giving the top of Casey’s head a tight, firm kiss.
“Yeah,” Casey said, reaching to the last brownie, splitting it in half and handed one over. For a few moments, they did nothing but chew and hum together, Casey patting Jeremy’s chest while Jeremy made a brisk rub over Casey’s arm.
“So. Does your mom maybe have an old, antique solid-iron iron she can throw in the oven for a couple hours so I can put it in my lap for the ride home?”
“Not the wildest thought, honestly, with the shit she comes home with…” Casey said, but drifted off in thought. “Actually… I could make a call?”
“What, know a good mechanic? The guy I used to go to retired. Been meaning to check out the new place that opened up down the road from my school, but-know someone?”
“Kinda. Can’t promise anything, but…” he said as he got up and went out into the hallway for the phone.
~*~
Everyone forgot about Zeke’s saying he didn’t have a ‘shitton of experience’ when it came to newer car models when Jeremy crossed the fingers of his left hand, turned the ignition on with his right and outright whooped when the vents began sending warm air into the Audi. “Shit, you did it!” he yelled, hopping out of the idling car and beaming.
Zeke closed the hood and wiped his hands on an old rag from his toolbox. “Give it a minute, never know…” he said, but when Jeremy reached his hand toward the vent by the driver’s side window, he shook his head and smiled wider.
“It’s back in business, dude, pure, one-hundred percent summertime,” he said.
Casey shivered his way on over to see for himself. As usual, Zeke had worked his mechanical-magic when he thought he couldn’t in Casey’s feeling the rush of warmth swelling out from the opened door. He moved out of the way to let Jeremy shut it, who went over to Zeke and gave him a big, tight hug.
“You’ve got no idea, oh my god…” Jeremy said. He backed away from Zeke, who looked both stunned and amused over Jeremy’s excited embrace. Jeremy went on, saying, “I’ve never gotten used to Ohio winters. ANY winters. You just saved my life.”
“A little. Maybe,” Zeke said, smirking. “Glad I could help, though. If it snuffs out again, it’s not a big deal; twenty bucks at any mechanic, at the most. Someone tries charging you more than that, sue their asses.”
“Thanks, Zeke,” Casey joined the thankful-chorus Jeremy had started.
“Yeah, well… can’t pay the bills with ‘thank you’s, can ya?”
Zeke groaned at the sight of Jeremy pulling his wallet out of his messenger bag. “C’mon man, like I said… twenty bucks, and I know you…”
“So twenty bucks, plus gas to get here… the sip of coffee you gave me from your cup o’ Dunks…”
“Serious itemizing… like I said…”
Jeremy wasn’t listening, too busy listing off the most minute of expenses he declared he owed Zeke; from, “Oh yeah, the ride you gave Casey last night, that’s a whopper,” to “wear and tear on those shit-kickers there-are those steel-toed?” it didn’t stop until Jeremy finally settled on a figure, pulled out four twenties and held them out to Zeke. “There we are. A fair price.”
“Eighty bucks. Yeah, I ain’t taking your money, ya freak,” he teased, chuckling his way over to collect his tools.
“You’d better take it, Zeke. Zeke?” Jeremy groaned, even stomped his feet. “Zeke! Take! My! Money! Please!”
Casey chortled when he saw Mrs. Gibbons staring at them while walking her dog, looking bewildered at the scene before her. Jeremy made a dramatic, loud groan then turned to Casey. This time, he was shoving the money at him. “Make sure he takes this. Like, TAKES it. Or buy him something and tell him you found it on-the-cheap at one of your mom’s beetle markets, or whatever…”
“Flea market,” Casey corrected, chortling harder now.
“Details.” Jeremy grunted, stuffed the cash into the front pocket of Casey’s coat and slapped his hand over the small bulge. “There. However that’s spent, I couldn’t care less.”
Casey shook his head, let the last few chuckles out in a sigh and took Jeremy in another tight hug. “I’m probably gonna stick close to home tonight; see you next week at the club?” he asked.
“Yup. Oh. Hmm…” Jeremy made a mysterious expression as he bent away, narrowed eyes set on Casey’s face. “That camera sale. Yeah…”
When he patted the front pocket, Casey raised his eyebrows. “You know… my rules, boy…”
“I don’t remember any rules about giving Zeke the cash to buy you a gift. Zeke?”
“Ya?” Zeke said, ambling over holding his heavy toolbox.
“Any rules about… me, giving YOU money… but it somehow ends up at the ‘Shot-Spot’s huge sale they’re having…?”
The devious smile that grew on Zeke’s face, matching Jeremy’s, made Casey groan with exasperation. “SER-iously? Come on-“
“Gotta motor!” Jeremy all but sang as he opened the car door and got in. He shouted, “Thanks again, Zeke!” and waved before he shut himself in, put the car in reverse and backed away slowly. Casey moved out of his way and waved as he sped off. Now alone with Zeke, he went over to where he was storing his things back into the trunk of his car.
“Thanks for being the ‘hero’ again,” he said.
“Eh, what’re friends for, right?” Zeke replied.
“Mmm…” Casey smirked, reached into the pocket where Jeremy’s money was and drew it out. “…But this really is yours, y’know. He wanted you to have it.”
Zeke shut the trunk and looked to the cash Casey was holding out to him. “But… like you’ve said about him, he’s too excited over throwing money and goods at anyone standing still long enough,” he said. He leaned on the car and shrugged. “And really… this way, your boyfriend can’t say I’m your ‘jerk ex’, right?”
Casey sucked in his smile and blinked. “That’d be true, if me and Jeremy were boyfriends.”
The confused frown slowly coming on Zeke’s face was almost comical. He turned his head fast toward where Jeremy had left then shot his eyes back to Casey. “Uh-wait. I’d figured you guys patched shit up?”
“No. Well, yeah, we did, just not in a boyfriend-way.”
“But you guys were all smiley-giggly-goofballs the whole time I’ve been here. That…”
That was the way the world viewed break-ups, as Casey had mused on earlier. “Some people, believe it or not, realize how much better it is not being together, that way. Because they’re better off as friends,” Casey said. “Or besties, as Jeremy declared us being now… which feels pretty damned good to have him as.”
For a moment, all Zeke could do was shake his head in slow, small jerks. “I had the guy all wrong, I guess. Cos’ he sees what he’s got in you, any way he can have it,” he said. “’Guess his being spoiled rotten hasn’t stomped out the human in him.”
“And he wants to share his getting spoiled… while recognizing what us ‘normal everyday Joes’ do for him. As in, you coming out in the cold within fifteen minutes of me calling you to make sure he doesn’t turn into a popsicle on the way home,” Casey rambled quickly before taking Zeke’s hand and stuffing the bills in it. He put his other hand over Zeke’s fingers to have him clasp them tight and stayed there. “So just… take it.”
Zeke sighed as Casey let him go. He stared at the cash and shrugged. “A’right. But you’re sharing it with me,” he said.
“Rules, Zeke-“
“Break ‘em.” Zeke’s smile faded a bit but stayed on; his look became more intense as he stared into Casey’s eyes. Cocking an eyebrow, he said, “Just this once. If it makes you feel better, you can call it ‘peer pressure’ and that I’m a bad influence.”
“Zeke…” Casey tried, but Zeke shook his head slowly.
“You said you were trying to let someone else have their way, right? Let me have my way by getting in the car and me taking you to that cam shop’s sale.”
“I have money, enough to get a good bunch of stuff…”
“So let’s drive to your bank, you take it out then buy something you’d have passed on because of not having this eighty bucks. All you have to know is that everyone deserves a lucky break every now and again. Even you. Especially you.”
Casey regarded him a moment. If the smile disappearing and imploring, almost desperate look in his eyes said anything, it was that he really, really wanted to do this. It was more than just cash and gifts to him-it’d always been that way with him, even Jeremy, in his own flawed way. When Casey thought back to breaking his number-one rule, combining that with letting Zeke help that breaking, he couldn’t help a widening grin. “Our secret?” he finally said.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Zeke said, the spark of his smile and twinkling-with-mischief eyes making Casey’s decision the best he’d made in a while.
~*~
No shopping bag Casey had ever brought out from ‘Shot-Spot’ had ever been so full or so heavy before. The new flash attachment was state-of-the-art, the best replacement for the one he’d said was ‘okay, for now,’ when he should have replaced the thing he’d bought used already, four months before. It’d never worked right. It made him wonder what the high-definition quality of his future pictures would hold.
And there would be plenty of those ‘future pictures’ in his getting six rolls of the best film the Tillmans offered their customers. Mr. Tillman, already happy to see Casey coming in with Zeke on his heels, had smiled wider at Casey’s saying that he was going to have a ‘rare splurge’ in his shop. The kind shopkeeper already gave Casey special deals for his patronage, but he made sure to set Casey up a lot more, the more Casey piled things to purchase on the counter. “This film?” he’d said, taking three rolls from the display shelf kept behind the register. They’d been put in Casey’s bag with everything else. Mr. Tillman said, “On the house,” with a wink, indeed leaving his gift off the bill… which was treated to not the sale’s promise of ‘40% off a $50+ purchase!’ but fifty.
…everyone deserves a lucky break every now and again. Even you. Especially you. Zeke’s words rang in Casey’s head as he sat in the car, waiting for Zeke who’d gone into the Starbucks shop next door to ‘Shot-Spot’ for their bathroom and coffees for both of them. Casey had chosen to spend some time digging around in his collection of goodies; film, new flash, filters, reusable batteries AND charger…
He’d thought that after this small but significant binge, he’d feel guilt creep in past the spending-high. With each piece he brought up to inspect, he expected the shift. ‘Good enough’ had always sufficed, and breaking that record, his rule to enjoy the effects from this giant pile of ‘BETTER than good’ he now had in his lap had him waiting. Waiting. And waiting. And yet, a much different and unexpected feeling came forth, put into words Casey didn’t tell himself very often, if at all.
‘They really love me. Respect me.’ Casey’s nose twitched, yet again feeling a wave of warm, comforting emotion. With he and Jeremy in the clear and better for it, and Zeke, always coming around when he didn’t have to bother with him at all-Casey had something to give them, so they kept coming back for more. They didn’t want him to go against his principles because they felt they were stupid, but that they craved to get around that one corner Casey insisted on roping-off and never letting anyone past. Casey looked up toward the café, unable to see past the first set of tables in the window. Zeke was in there, getting complicated, foreign-named coffee drinks for them. The restaurant’s prices were far higher than their usual Dunks or gas station stops. The ‘good enough’ options Casey usually took.
But things, food and shopping weren’t always as trite, or meaningless in their material worth. There were people with money who would buy people off with ‘things’, people like Tim. He’d been bad enough that even with Jeremy sharing his snobby views, he’d had enough sense left in him to make a turnaround, with his good friend’s help. Maybe Thomas was Jeremy’s Zeke, a guy who’d share not just his wealth, but himself. Jeremy was lucky to have him, just as Casey would be forever-fortunate to have come across HIS hero.
“Christ, stop crying,” he said aloud when he realized he’d teared-up. Zeke was on his way out of the café now, carrying their drinks and a small paper bag. Sniffing hard, Casey quickly swiped his scarf over his face to hide emotional-evidence, cleared his throat and smiled as he reached over to Zeke’s door handle.
“Hey, thanks,” Zeke said, shoving it open wider with his foot. Casey took his cup and the bag to let Zeke settle in.
“What’s this?” he asked, looking into the bag.
“Birthday-cake-pops,” Zeke said, grinning as he sipped. At Casey’s questioning stare sent his way, he chuckled. “I know, right?”
The two lollipop-shaped, frost-covered treats were taken out and they each took a bite. “Not bad,” Zeke said. Casey hummed in agreement, finding the pastry delightfully delicious and super moist.
“Didn’t know they made cake like this,” he said.
“Mmm, we should tell your mom. Bet she’d try to make ‘em-especially if I promise to come over every time she DOES.”
Casey snort-chortled. “Every night, then. We’re gonna get so fuckin’ fat,” he replied before washing down the finished, way-too-small treat with his first sip of macchiato.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” Zeke asked. He started the car and gave Casey a sly smirk, which Casey returned.
“Dunno. Does it matter to you?”
“Nope.”
~*~
They hadn’t even needed to ask Mrs. Connor if there was enough of tonight’s dinner to share, as just Zeke entering the house with Casey meant he’d be joining-in. Casey had to chuckle when his father arrived from his trip to the mall and saw Zeke sitting with Casey in the living room.
“Why so awkward, gentlemen?” Casey asked after they exchanged blushing, stilted ‘hello’s. That was enough to break the ice, regarding the sneaky little comrades they’d been. It let Mr. Connor sigh, smile and sit in his chair. As he’d opened the paper, he cleared his throat.
“Been meaning to ask, Son… seeing as your attendance record at school is so sparkling, they’d called Friday, wondering which funeral home to send flowers to,” he said, eyes set on the paper but a wry smirk tickling the corner of his lips. “They figure that’d be the only reason for your suddenly not showing up without a parent calling it in.”
Before Casey could get past the terror he felt at what kind of grounding skipping-school earned him-he’d never done it before, knowing the dire consequences-Zeke held up his hands. “I’m the culprit, there. I hadn’t known it was a half-day ‘til he told me, and I’d only gotten about four or five minutes of sleep the night before, so…”
“I’d barely slept the night before too!” Casey added in a rush.
“I forced him to, really. He tried jumping out of the car AS it was speeding out of the lot-“
“Zeke, the heck??”
“-So you could consider it a kidnapping, I spos’.”
“Whatever, it was YOUR fault anyway, Dad, forcing Zeke into that ‘We Hate Jeremy’ club, he was SO stressed-out and so was I… duh!”
Mr. Connor slapped the paper down, looking overwhelmed as he waved his hands around in wide, quick swoops. “Good GOD, everyone just shuddup!” he said, but the puffs of laughter he made had both boys settle back down. Groaning, he grabbed the paper again but looked to them, saying, “You’re off-the-hook, THIS time… both of you,” before telling ‘em to give him some peace and wait for dinner upstairs in Casey’s room. They complied of course, Casey feeling grateful that he wouldn’t be locked into the house for an inordinate amount of time, serving time.
“This stuff really IS awesome,” Casey said as he went to his camera bag to store his new tools and film into. Zeke took a seat in a beanbag chair, smiling.
“Thanks for letting me-well, me and Jer, I guess, do it,” he said.
“No, y’know… you were right.” Casey zipped everything up and started unpacking the battery-charger. Just this was going to be a game-changer, as he wouldn’t have to set aside any funds for the expensive brand of double-AAs he usually bought. He glanced up at Zeke while unpacking the set of eight batteries, saying, “I gotta ‘give-in’ a little, every now and again.”
“Have your limits, Case… nothing wrong with ‘em. But yeah. Friends can have fun giving YOU fun sometimes,” Zeke said. He made a light yawn, stretched and looked to Casey’s desk. “Hey… are those the pics?”
“Huh?” Casey looked to where he was pointing and brightened. “Oh-yeah. Our ‘snow-day’ adventures, you never got to see ‘em…”
“Get ‘em,” Zeke said, sitting at-attention and making ‘gimmee!’ motions with his hand toward the two packets.
For the next good while, they had a viewing of their day, both sitting close on the beanbags together to laugh, discuss and shake their heads over their antics, captured forever on film. The copies of Jeremy’s set had been stuffed with the ones Casey had taken, letting them see his level of skill. Zeke was particularly impressed with the action-shot of their ill-fated toboggan ride with Stan and Stokely. “A real soldier, considering his narrowly-escaping death to get this shot,” Zeke said, eyes set on the perfectly-framed picture of the foursome. Stan’s eyes were closed in fear, Stokely wearing her usual ‘gleeful-devil-girl’ expression while both Casey and Zeke wore excited smiles. Getting to the next picture, Zeke raised his eyebrows.
“He-e-ey, wait… when did he get a pic of THAT disaster?” he asked. Casey laughed; that bush had almost taken out an eye, but he was glad Jeremy had taken a quick click-flash! of the chaotic shrubbery crash. Zeke was furthest away having rolled over the snow to escape, while Casey and Stokely looked as if they were doing things Stan would deck Casey for.
“He’s good, like we’ve been saying,” Casey said.
“Got copies, right?” Zeke asked.
“Yeah… I’ll go through ‘em all so Stan and Stokes get a bunch, too.”
“I’m here now. Plus, I’m special, right?”
Casey sniffed out a chuckle and let him have his way. Again. But as Zeke sorted through them, an idea sparked in his brain. The wider Zeke’s smile grew and the higher his stack got, Casey worked through what kind of ‘project’ he could put together. Considering how he had a lot to thank for in this boy…
“Okay, I left ‘em a couple,” Zeke finally said, putting everything back. With a satisfied smile, he put his stack on the bed and stood. “Coffee’s calling, be right back…”
“’K,” Casey said. He was glad for the interruption, giving him the chance to look through the pics Zeke had chosen once he was gone. He made his search quick, knowing which one to sneak out of the pile. Halfway through, he found it and snatched it back.
Jeremy always liked capturing candid moments, skilled at staying off to the side and letting people forget that there was a cameraman lurking around. The picture he’d gotten, without Casey even knowing it’d been snapped, proved that he had no insecurity over Casey’s being around the ex. He and Zeke were sitting in the snow, Casey just finished with making a snow angel. He remembered the conversation going on in this picture.
”C’mon, make one next to mine so they’re holding hands!”
“But I’m no angel.”
Zeke’s evil little smirk was mid-drag, a small cloud of smoke swelling from the tip of his cigarette, while Casey was leaned back on his hands, giving him his famous, ‘whatever, you jerk,’ sarcastic smile. The black-and-white image made it even more artistic and defined.
The sound of the bathroom door opening made Casey shuffle over to the picture-packets quick to stuff the shot inside. “You’d think I had TEN coffees, the way I went on in there…” Zeke was saying as he reentered the room.
“Glad to know,” Casey sarcastically replied.
Pairing: Casey/OMC (??), C/Z (past...ish)
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Sometimes, moving on doesn't mean moving *apart*.
It’d been odd, Casey opening his eyes and feeling perfectly rested at ten-of-seven in the morning. Most nights he’d require at least eight straight hours, uninterrupted, in the comfiest spot of his bed he could find. But when he remembered where he was and sat up, he hoped someone else hadn’t woken up before him. He stretched his arms and made a deep, heavy yawn then almost startled as a soft snore came from his left. He found that Zeke hadn’t bothered heading upstairs to bed, but was curled up on the other end of the couch. The older boy shifted a little but his eyes stayed closed-which Casey hoped would stay that way, until he got a few things together.
First things first; with Zeke having taken care of Casey like they were together in many ways over the last few weeks, Casey was going to return the favor any way he could. He started by standing up, slow and soundless, then padding off to the kitchen. As he prepared the coffee maker to brew a full pot, he noticed the state of his slacks. ‘The ‘Gucci Gods’ should slay me for this,’ he thought at the many wrinkles he’d made, sleeping in his whole party-outfit… gift. ‘Whatever,’ Casey thought with a smirk as he moved to the fridge, opened it and scanned the inside.
Eggs, bacon, some shredded cheddar and even an onion… perfect. While Casey had always considered staying around in the kitchen to get cooking-tips from his mom, he did know how to make a perfectly-prepared, delicious omelet. He’d started cracking eggs into the mixing bowl he’d found in the cabinet under the counter at the same time the coffee began its slow but steady drip. The air around the brewing action began to grow warm and steam-up, making Casey stick close to it as he worked.
After chopping the onion, Casey swore he heard movement from the living room. ‘No, no, no…’ he panicked silently as he scurried to the doorway and peeked through the archway. He felt relief in seeing Zeke was still sleeping, and he’d just stirred a little in moving around. With an impish grin and the hope that he’d get to surprise Zeke with a ‘thank you’ breakfast, Casey set to work, quickening his pace a little.
Bacon was cooked just right, second pan heated with a hefty pad of butter… Casey’s smile grew in pouring the eggs over the hot, greasy surface, loving the crackling heat being sent into the air. With deft movements, he added the onions, cheese and bacon in even layers.
“Ungh… Case? C-Casey, you up?”
‘DAMN it!’ Casey yelled in his mind as he stepped away from the oven a second to call, “Yeah, be there in a minute!” before rushing back to finish the omelet-making.
“What smells so damned good? Coffee?”
“Uh, YEAH, coffee and… in a minute, I said!”
More noises and mumbling came, until Casey made the first flip of the cooked egg. But before he could grab a plate and throw everything together in the presentation he’d planned, Zeke shuffled in, mouth wide open to let out a yawn. He smacked his lips, looked over and stilled. “What… ya makin’?” he asked.
“Breakfast-in-bed, if you’d stayed there,” Casey said with narrowed eyes and sarcastic smirk.
“I smelled coffee… and whatever awesome shit you’re cooking up… damn, an omelet?”
“How about you go pretend you’re just waking up and you don’t KNOW it’s an omelet??” Casey said, even waving the spatula in a, ‘get out, you!’ motion toward the hall. Zeke rolled his eyes but his goofy grin gave him away as he sighed his way back into the living room.
Casey sighed with minor disappointment but smirked, knowing the boy would at least play along-however teasingly. That didn’t matter. What did was getting the omelet perfectly seasoned, along with making Zeke’s coffee just right. Casey filled a mug for himself then looked around for a surface to carry everything on. No trays, but the old cutting board tucked behind the toaster and knife block would do.
Zeke’s eyes were closed one second then snapping open the next. He sat up fast. “Boy, that was good sleep, hey, what’s this, oh my god you made me breakfast, how thoughtful-“
“Yeah, I DID, ya jerk, but with that kinda fakery?” Casey said, making a point in stopping halfway toward the couch; he even took a step back with his eyebrows raised, as if to warn him…
“C’mon, I can’t fake-it. So I break it.” Zeke smiled drowsily as Casey shook his head and went to the table to place the board down. He picked up his coffee and returned to the spot he’d slept on.
“Bacon, onion and cheese omelet,” he said as Zeke brought the coffee up to his lips first, took a long, slow sip then set it down; the plate was grabbed next, which he put a few inches under his face to take in the steamy aroma.
“God damn, that smells good,” he said. “Thanks. Didn’t have to, though.”
“You didn’t have to drive out to fuckin’ Stow, either. You’re welcome,” Casey said, wrapping his grin at the rim of his mug to take another gulp. If there was one thing better than getting to eat a home-cooked meal, it was watching someone else enjoying the one you made them. Zeke was definitely gobbling it down, his first few bites taken slow to savor it, then moving on to a faster, hungrier pace.
“Where’s yours? Why’m’I eating alone?” Zeke asked between heavy forkfuls.
“Eh… not that hungry. If anything, I’ll grab one of the apples I saw in your fridge. Other than that… it’s all you,” Casey replied.
The last bite was taken and chewed slower, as if Zeke was sad that he’d finished it so fast. He swallowed, gave a punch to his chest and sank back against the couch with a satisfied hum. He smiled at Casey, saying, “I feel cheated, y’know. Here we hooked-up for a whole five months, and this was the first time you made me an omelet as tasty as that? Pssh…”
“Hey, you’re the only one I’ve ever made one for, so hush your face,” Casey retorted.
“No. I’m gonna bitch about it now, you’ll just have to deal.”
“Then consider that your one and only ‘Omelet a la Casey’. Ever.”
Zeke went from defiant and stony to outright pouty. “That’s not fair.”
“You gonna stop bitchin’?”
“I’ll… think about it. But… Saturday morning cartoons.”
The switching of the subject made Casey chuckle; he settled in as Zeke turned the TV on, leaving it on the local ABC station from their infomercial-binging mere hours before. It felt good, knowing that instead of crying himself to sleep, Casey had instead laughed himself silly, dopey and eventually crashed with a smile on his face. He’d have to deal with the night before when he called Jeremy to go over things… but for now, Recess was on, and getting to lounge around with Zeke, both simply enjoying sharing space with each other, was everything Casey wanted right now.
~*~
While Casey had wanted to take the offer of a ride home, he’d told Zeke that if either or both of his parents saw the GTO dropping him off instead of the Audi, they’d be too suspicious. “I was gonna tell ‘em what happened, but… I’d rather give a Cliff Notes and white-lie version,” he’d said, and Zeke didn’t fight it. They’d shared a quick hug, Zeke reminded him, “twenty-of-seven, Monday, your place,” with a smile and Casey ventured out for the short but chilly walk home.
He was glad to see his father’s car missing from the drive, and in a sad way hoped he and his mother had gone out together. But in opening the front door…
“Casey? Is that you?” Mrs. Connor called from the back of the house. She appeared in the kitchen doorway and smiled. “Hi, honey!”
“Hey there,” he said, trying to smile back as he untied his shoes.
He expected her to rush in as she was, a flea-market-find in one hand and dust-rag in the other while asking, “So-o-o-o… how did the little ‘swanky soiree’ go, huh?”
While she was going to be kept in the dark on some things, Casey wanted to be truthful about some others. “The party… was good. Had some good times, especially at the pool…”
“Ooh, you went swimming? Jea-lo-o-ous…”
“No, we just hung out by it. Wasn’t in the mood. But, um…” he let out a heavy, tired breath and shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Some stuff between me and Jeremy happened, and… I’m gonna have to call him in a bit.”
The woman frowned. “What’s ‘some stuff’? Are… are you okay, sweetie?” she asked, even reaching to his hand to take into a squeeze. “And wait, didn’t he drop you off? He said he was going to get you back home by… well, now…?”
A little white lie was now introduced, Casey saying, “A friend of his who lives closer did. It was… needed.”
“Oh. Honey. Come on, let’s talk, tell me about this. Did you break up?”
Whatever role she’d taken as a ‘co-conspirator’ during those few days of her husband and Zeke’s scheming, her concern and worry for her son was obvious, and honest. Casey returned to the unpleasant and unsettling subjects, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he’d be revisiting them with Jeremy himself. She cooed at his retelling events, or scowled a little with disapproval as to how her son had been made an emotional mess-especially when it came to the ‘Tim tale’. She’d had plenty to say about him, using language that even surprised Casey to hear from her lips. On an every-day basis, her mouth was far filthier than her husband’s, but Casey had gawked in her describing Tim as a ‘snob-rat, dick-munching twat’. However shocking, he made sure to make a mental note of the brilliant, mom-inspired insults to use himself when he needed them.
When he was finished letting her know what he was willing to reveal-coke snorting young men left out, most of all-the woman gave him a motherly, somber smile and took his hand. “Even if things don’t work out with Jeremy, I feel a little… bad, for giving him my ‘evil eye’,” she admitted. “Maybe I needed to be more understanding. We might have to struggle more for every dollar that comes into the house, but I should’ve thought a bit more about what he has to deal with.”
“Yeah. Like Thomas had said, they can never feel safe being with someone, not knowing if they’re just gold-digging jerks. Jeremy… he’s probably so used to sharing the wealth that he overdoes it, sort of… protecting himself in saying ‘hey, I’m rich!’ before someone tries to sneak in… or… something,” Casey said.
“That’s a very adult way of thinking.” Mrs. Connor smoothed his hair at the top and moved down to cup the side of his face. “Either way, I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. Hey, I learned from the best, right?” he said with a wink.
“Flatterer. All right… I’m going to finish that last box of flea-finds, get ‘em nice and cleaned-up. Let me know if you need me for anything, okay? I’ll be right out back,” she said.
“Actually…” Casey looked to the clock over the TV. With the time at twelve-ten, he shrugged and smiled as he said, “I’ve got time before I gotta call Jer. Want me to join you? I should learn more about this stuff, anyway.”
“Ooh. An extra set of hands would help, sure,” she replied with a bright smile.
The pair stood up, left the room and headed toward the kitchen. Just as his mother had reached the box of things she’d been sorting through, the doorbell rang. “Oh… wonder who that is,” she said.
“I’ll get it,” Casey said. Hoping it wasn’t Zeke, stopping by to drop off a forgotten item with his mother in hearing-range, Casey hurried to the door, opened it and froze. “Oh. Jeremy.”
The young man wore a small smile, bobbing on the balls of his feet. “Hey. I, uh, tried calling you early this morning, but no one picked up…”
“Oh. Um, come in…” Casey stood off to the side and let the young man escape the cold. He stomped his feet to remove bits of snow and ice, shivering.
“I gotta get the car’s heating system ch-checked out… it conked out on the way h-here. Bought the damned thing brand new only a few months ago…”
“Ouch. That… sucks.”
“Who’s… oh! Hi, Jeremy,” Mrs. Connor arrived and greeted the boy. Casey looked to her and worried quietly to himself over whether she was going to act strange-or even annoyed at Jeremy, but she kept her small mom-smile on her face. “Are you all right? You’re shaking like a leaf.”
“Hah, just told Case… m-my car’s heater went on the fritz and died on me halfway here. I was ready to try and build a small campfire in the passenger seat to get warm,” he replied.
“Aw, poor thing. How about I fix you boys some tea? There’re some brownies left over from last night’s dinner, too, if you’d like?” she asked.
“That… sounds awesome, hah… th-thanks,” Jeremy said with a shaky but bright smile.
“You, uh-wanna head up to my room?” Casey asked. At Jeremy’s shrug and, “Yeah, okay,” Casey turned back to Mrs. Connor. “I’ll come back down in a minute for it, let me get him upstairs next to my space heater thingee.”
“Oh, I’ll bring everything up. Relax,” she said before turning away to get their warm-up refreshment ready.
Jeremy followed Casey up the stairs, sighing. “Your mom’s so nice,” he said.
“Yeah, she’s okay. Sometimes,” Casey joked. He made it to his room and immediately went to the space heater he used when it felt too drafty. Jeremy took a seat right next to it on one of Casey’s beanbag chairs, moaning lightly as the first blast of heat reached his frozen body.
“God, that’s nice…” he said, leaning forward to rub his hands together in front of it. “Almost forgot what ‘warmth’ was for a while, there.”
Casey smiled, tugged the other beanbag over next to Jeremy’s and sat down to join him. “What time did the party end last night? I wasn’t planning on calling you ‘til one or later, figuring you’d be up most of the night.”
“I’d headed up to the guestrooms a bit after two. Didn’t sleep that great, but… just woke up, got dressed and had a quick bite before heading out. Figured…” The boy sank back against the puffed-out vinyl and gnawed at his lower lip a moment. “…It’d be better to talk face-to-face, instead of over the phone.”
Casey made a solemn nod. “Not the worst idea, yeah,” he said.
Jeremy hummed and let his head fall back on the bag. He turned toward Casey and said, “It was hard… after you left. I know you wanted me to stay with all my friends while you made your own way home, but after… hey, wait…”
“What?”
“Did you… sleep in those clothes?” he asked.
“Oh. Uh, yeah…” Casey said, making Jeremy chuckle.
“Boy, you don’t treat Gucci that way! Geez!” he teased playfully, but his smile only grew wider.
“I’ll… wash and iron it all out, sorry,” Casey bashfully replied.
“Oh, I’m just teasing. I gave ‘em to you, remember? You can make ‘em pajamas, if that’s how you like them,” Jeremy said.
Casey smiled back then sighed, asking, “Did I just-ruin your night, though? I really didn’t want to, seriously.”
“You didn’t do anything, really. Thomas helped me out, took care of me a while. I’ll admit… after you left, I kinda had to go cry in the bathroom for a bit…”
“Oh, god…” Casey muttered with woe. “Jer, I’m-“
“Stop, it’s okay. Really. Like I said… when I came out, Thomas found me and took me aside a while to talk. I got to vent a bit, be upset and he just-listened. We talked about you, the stuff that had happened and what we thought about it all,” Jeremy explained. “He said some of the same stuff you had, with a bit more. He got me to kinda… admit a few things.”
“Admit… what?”
“Well… you always roll your eyes when I’ve offered to give or buy you something, whatever. And I’ll push it. It’s never been cos’, like… you’re a big pity-case to me. It’s that, y’know, I CAN give things to someone I want to give things to,” he said. “But Thomas started asking me things about it, and how maybe… maybe I overdo it cos’ I was trying to get distance between me and… me, how I’d been not too long ago.”
“Y’mean, like when you’d dated Tim, there? Thomas, he told me a bit about that history,” Casey said; Jeremy nodded slowly.
“For a little bit, Thomas kinda scared me, cos’ I started wondering-WAS I treating you like a charity case, because I was trying to do a bunch of good deeds to make up for being a snobby prick in the past? But he helped me out with that. He said he’d seen how I really did care about you, for just you.”
“You have, Jer. ‘K? I’ve felt that enough, so don’t worry about it.” Casey slumped lower in the seat, smiling. “Sometimes I’d feel bad, turning down your offers and stuff. I knew you just wanted me to have everything I’d ever need for my camera work, to look nice in-well, I’m not doing the Gucci you gave me ANY favors, like this…”
Jeremy chuckled then clucked his tongue. “Never seen those pants so dang wrinkled…”
“But yeah. You do it cos’ you want to help, honestly help. You’ve seen what being a snob does for you, or anyone else-like Tim. And as upset as he made me, in those minutes I was around him? Well, so what? I know I’m fine how I am… but I doubt he thinks the same, of himself. You don’t act the way he does if there’s nothing wrong with you. So in a way, I feel sorry for the guy,” Casey said.
“Hah, that makes you leagues better than me, then…”
“You’re allowed. You’re his ex. Duh.”
“Yeah… speaking of exes…” Jeremy scratched the back of his neck and scrunched his nose as he asked, “Did you tell Zeke about what went on? Hope he wasn’t mad, or anything.”
“He… had some issues, thinking you should’ve dropped everything and taken me home. But I told him that I hadn’t wanted you to have your friends-night take a hit, having to cart my sad-ass home. And he doesn’t think you’re a jerk. He just… looks out for me, is all.”
“Mmm, I could tell,” Jeremy said with a smirk.
“Hah, yeah?”
“He doesn’t hide things as well as he thinks he does. Even if he’s shifting stuff around to be more like your ‘big brother’, he loves you. I’d throw down a few hundred purple chips on it.”
Casey laughed and felt his cheeks go warm. “Well, I dunno… I mean, so you know, I did spend the night at his place last night-didn’t want to go home that late and have my parents run around worrying-“
“Boys?” Mrs. Connor’s voice came from the other side of the door. “Casey, can you get the door?”
Casey frowned, stood and opened his bedroom door. Sure enough, the woman had carried up a tray for them that held a plate full of delicious looking brownies and two big mugs of ‘English Breakfast’ tea. “Wow, thanks, Mom,” he said as he carefully took the tray from her.
“You’re welcome, Casey. Enjoy,” she said before shutting the door for Casey and leaving them in privacy again.
“Speaking of parents…” Casey said, chuckling as he set the tray between them.
“Really awesome parents,” Jeremy added. When he picked up the brownie on top, he cooed. “Aw, she warmed ‘em.”
“She always does.”
“So, um… Zeke’s place, you were saying?”
Though he made the words come out in a suspicious tone, the coy smirk Jeremy wore as he took his first bite of brownie assured Casey that he wasn’t angry. “Yeah, wanted to avoid… fam-drama. Spent the night on the couch, fully-clothed… evidence is right here, still,” he said, patting the heaviest spot of wrinkles on the slacks.
“I trust you, Casey. Though… wouldn’t have blamed you.”
“Um, huh? Hold on, I’ve always said I’d never cheat, especially leaving the party and you on such-“
“I’m KIDDING, Casey, again! God.” Jeremy chuckled heavily, almost dropping a loose chunk from the brownie he held, catching it in his other hand at the last minute. “I’d meant more that he’s one hot motherfucker. Don’t think I’ve made that a secret, right?”
“No-o-o-o…” Casey drawled.
“That’s the best part, here; I can say that to you about your ex, while you aren’t allowed to agree with me,” Jeremy teased yet again. This time, Casey scrunched up his face and gave his leg a hard slap. “Hey!”
“You’re ridiculous,” Casey said.
A moment of silence allowed them to drink their tea and continue brownie-binging together. It felt odd, Casey realizing that he’d never felt this level of close comfort with him before. Before he could say anything, Jeremy chewed the last bite of his second brownie, sighed and gave Casey a soft expression. “Teasing and stuff aside… I think… you were right, saying we’re really different. That maybe it’s that we’re too different. But that doesn’t mean that I could just stop caring about you. You’re someone-worth caring about, y’know?”
Emotions swelled deep inside of Casey’s chest. While it was starting to get painful to hold onto, it felt like a good pain. In some strange way, human beings maybe needed to appreciate the ability to feel emotional pain, even loss; it only meant that something meant something enough to go through that pain to begin with. “You’re not just some ‘spoiled rich boy’ either. I know that much,” he said. “In a way… I envy you, how easy you mix into a crowd of friends, how bold you can get. I can’t do that so easily. But.,. you’re that guy who can take two strangers, put them in the same room and have them come out best friends. It’s infectious-rare, even.”
“Aw.” Jeremy blushed; the rims of his eyes had grown a darker pink than Casey was used to seeing.
“Please don’t cry. Cos’ then I’m gonna cry. Then my mom’ll come up to see what’s going on and she’ll start to cry…” Casey said, but knew it was coming anyway. However tired and sore his face and eyes felt, tiny tears were forming. Jeremy’s distinctive sniff he made caused the first one to fall, then another from the other side. He looked up to Casey, scoffed lightly and brought his hand to the side of his face.
“Hypocrite,” he said, running his thumb over the small drop going down Casey’s cheek and smoothing it away. That was when two of his own tears escaped, which made him groan and swipe his hand over his own face. “Okay, like we’re not gonna see each other again? Geez…”
“I’d hoped that however this shit went, we’d end up friends. I hate it when you hear about people turning on each other the second they break up, and-“
“We can’t be friends, Casey.” Jeremy shook his head slowly, looking stern at the moment. Before Casey could really get the waterworks going, Jeremy’s tight-lipped expression melted into a wide, teary but hopeful, grin. “Not when I’d rather make you a bestie.”
Casey punched out a heavy breath that released the tension Jeremy had made for him. “Don’t DO that…” he said, now chuckling and shaking his head.
“But you like that, right? Being a ‘bestie’ is like, three tiers up from ‘best friend’ on the friendship scale,” he said, making a visual demonstration with his hands, one held a foot higher above the other.
“is it-crazy to say that, this is probably going to… like… be the best, most favorite breakup I’ll ever have?”
Why they both melted into a giggle-fit together was a mystery, but Casey figured that’s how he and Jeremy were, really. Two guys who could’ve eventually fallen in love, gotten married-when the world caught up to what was right, anyway-adopted ten kids and grew old together, but came to discover they were better-off meaning something else to each other. Casey ended up being pulled in against Jeremy, sharing the same beanbag as he squeezed Casey tight. “That’d be an honor, actually. I’m someone’s ‘favorite break-up’,” he said, giving the top of Casey’s head a tight, firm kiss.
“Yeah,” Casey said, reaching to the last brownie, splitting it in half and handed one over. For a few moments, they did nothing but chew and hum together, Casey patting Jeremy’s chest while Jeremy made a brisk rub over Casey’s arm.
“So. Does your mom maybe have an old, antique solid-iron iron she can throw in the oven for a couple hours so I can put it in my lap for the ride home?”
“Not the wildest thought, honestly, with the shit she comes home with…” Casey said, but drifted off in thought. “Actually… I could make a call?”
“What, know a good mechanic? The guy I used to go to retired. Been meaning to check out the new place that opened up down the road from my school, but-know someone?”
“Kinda. Can’t promise anything, but…” he said as he got up and went out into the hallway for the phone.
~*~
Everyone forgot about Zeke’s saying he didn’t have a ‘shitton of experience’ when it came to newer car models when Jeremy crossed the fingers of his left hand, turned the ignition on with his right and outright whooped when the vents began sending warm air into the Audi. “Shit, you did it!” he yelled, hopping out of the idling car and beaming.
Zeke closed the hood and wiped his hands on an old rag from his toolbox. “Give it a minute, never know…” he said, but when Jeremy reached his hand toward the vent by the driver’s side window, he shook his head and smiled wider.
“It’s back in business, dude, pure, one-hundred percent summertime,” he said.
Casey shivered his way on over to see for himself. As usual, Zeke had worked his mechanical-magic when he thought he couldn’t in Casey’s feeling the rush of warmth swelling out from the opened door. He moved out of the way to let Jeremy shut it, who went over to Zeke and gave him a big, tight hug.
“You’ve got no idea, oh my god…” Jeremy said. He backed away from Zeke, who looked both stunned and amused over Jeremy’s excited embrace. Jeremy went on, saying, “I’ve never gotten used to Ohio winters. ANY winters. You just saved my life.”
“A little. Maybe,” Zeke said, smirking. “Glad I could help, though. If it snuffs out again, it’s not a big deal; twenty bucks at any mechanic, at the most. Someone tries charging you more than that, sue their asses.”
“Thanks, Zeke,” Casey joined the thankful-chorus Jeremy had started.
“Yeah, well… can’t pay the bills with ‘thank you’s, can ya?”
Zeke groaned at the sight of Jeremy pulling his wallet out of his messenger bag. “C’mon man, like I said… twenty bucks, and I know you…”
“So twenty bucks, plus gas to get here… the sip of coffee you gave me from your cup o’ Dunks…”
“Serious itemizing… like I said…”
Jeremy wasn’t listening, too busy listing off the most minute of expenses he declared he owed Zeke; from, “Oh yeah, the ride you gave Casey last night, that’s a whopper,” to “wear and tear on those shit-kickers there-are those steel-toed?” it didn’t stop until Jeremy finally settled on a figure, pulled out four twenties and held them out to Zeke. “There we are. A fair price.”
“Eighty bucks. Yeah, I ain’t taking your money, ya freak,” he teased, chuckling his way over to collect his tools.
“You’d better take it, Zeke. Zeke?” Jeremy groaned, even stomped his feet. “Zeke! Take! My! Money! Please!”
Casey chortled when he saw Mrs. Gibbons staring at them while walking her dog, looking bewildered at the scene before her. Jeremy made a dramatic, loud groan then turned to Casey. This time, he was shoving the money at him. “Make sure he takes this. Like, TAKES it. Or buy him something and tell him you found it on-the-cheap at one of your mom’s beetle markets, or whatever…”
“Flea market,” Casey corrected, chortling harder now.
“Details.” Jeremy grunted, stuffed the cash into the front pocket of Casey’s coat and slapped his hand over the small bulge. “There. However that’s spent, I couldn’t care less.”
Casey shook his head, let the last few chuckles out in a sigh and took Jeremy in another tight hug. “I’m probably gonna stick close to home tonight; see you next week at the club?” he asked.
“Yup. Oh. Hmm…” Jeremy made a mysterious expression as he bent away, narrowed eyes set on Casey’s face. “That camera sale. Yeah…”
When he patted the front pocket, Casey raised his eyebrows. “You know… my rules, boy…”
“I don’t remember any rules about giving Zeke the cash to buy you a gift. Zeke?”
“Ya?” Zeke said, ambling over holding his heavy toolbox.
“Any rules about… me, giving YOU money… but it somehow ends up at the ‘Shot-Spot’s huge sale they’re having…?”
The devious smile that grew on Zeke’s face, matching Jeremy’s, made Casey groan with exasperation. “SER-iously? Come on-“
“Gotta motor!” Jeremy all but sang as he opened the car door and got in. He shouted, “Thanks again, Zeke!” and waved before he shut himself in, put the car in reverse and backed away slowly. Casey moved out of his way and waved as he sped off. Now alone with Zeke, he went over to where he was storing his things back into the trunk of his car.
“Thanks for being the ‘hero’ again,” he said.
“Eh, what’re friends for, right?” Zeke replied.
“Mmm…” Casey smirked, reached into the pocket where Jeremy’s money was and drew it out. “…But this really is yours, y’know. He wanted you to have it.”
Zeke shut the trunk and looked to the cash Casey was holding out to him. “But… like you’ve said about him, he’s too excited over throwing money and goods at anyone standing still long enough,” he said. He leaned on the car and shrugged. “And really… this way, your boyfriend can’t say I’m your ‘jerk ex’, right?”
Casey sucked in his smile and blinked. “That’d be true, if me and Jeremy were boyfriends.”
The confused frown slowly coming on Zeke’s face was almost comical. He turned his head fast toward where Jeremy had left then shot his eyes back to Casey. “Uh-wait. I’d figured you guys patched shit up?”
“No. Well, yeah, we did, just not in a boyfriend-way.”
“But you guys were all smiley-giggly-goofballs the whole time I’ve been here. That…”
That was the way the world viewed break-ups, as Casey had mused on earlier. “Some people, believe it or not, realize how much better it is not being together, that way. Because they’re better off as friends,” Casey said. “Or besties, as Jeremy declared us being now… which feels pretty damned good to have him as.”
For a moment, all Zeke could do was shake his head in slow, small jerks. “I had the guy all wrong, I guess. Cos’ he sees what he’s got in you, any way he can have it,” he said. “’Guess his being spoiled rotten hasn’t stomped out the human in him.”
“And he wants to share his getting spoiled… while recognizing what us ‘normal everyday Joes’ do for him. As in, you coming out in the cold within fifteen minutes of me calling you to make sure he doesn’t turn into a popsicle on the way home,” Casey rambled quickly before taking Zeke’s hand and stuffing the bills in it. He put his other hand over Zeke’s fingers to have him clasp them tight and stayed there. “So just… take it.”
Zeke sighed as Casey let him go. He stared at the cash and shrugged. “A’right. But you’re sharing it with me,” he said.
“Rules, Zeke-“
“Break ‘em.” Zeke’s smile faded a bit but stayed on; his look became more intense as he stared into Casey’s eyes. Cocking an eyebrow, he said, “Just this once. If it makes you feel better, you can call it ‘peer pressure’ and that I’m a bad influence.”
“Zeke…” Casey tried, but Zeke shook his head slowly.
“You said you were trying to let someone else have their way, right? Let me have my way by getting in the car and me taking you to that cam shop’s sale.”
“I have money, enough to get a good bunch of stuff…”
“So let’s drive to your bank, you take it out then buy something you’d have passed on because of not having this eighty bucks. All you have to know is that everyone deserves a lucky break every now and again. Even you. Especially you.”
Casey regarded him a moment. If the smile disappearing and imploring, almost desperate look in his eyes said anything, it was that he really, really wanted to do this. It was more than just cash and gifts to him-it’d always been that way with him, even Jeremy, in his own flawed way. When Casey thought back to breaking his number-one rule, combining that with letting Zeke help that breaking, he couldn’t help a widening grin. “Our secret?” he finally said.
“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Zeke said, the spark of his smile and twinkling-with-mischief eyes making Casey’s decision the best he’d made in a while.
~*~
No shopping bag Casey had ever brought out from ‘Shot-Spot’ had ever been so full or so heavy before. The new flash attachment was state-of-the-art, the best replacement for the one he’d said was ‘okay, for now,’ when he should have replaced the thing he’d bought used already, four months before. It’d never worked right. It made him wonder what the high-definition quality of his future pictures would hold.
And there would be plenty of those ‘future pictures’ in his getting six rolls of the best film the Tillmans offered their customers. Mr. Tillman, already happy to see Casey coming in with Zeke on his heels, had smiled wider at Casey’s saying that he was going to have a ‘rare splurge’ in his shop. The kind shopkeeper already gave Casey special deals for his patronage, but he made sure to set Casey up a lot more, the more Casey piled things to purchase on the counter. “This film?” he’d said, taking three rolls from the display shelf kept behind the register. They’d been put in Casey’s bag with everything else. Mr. Tillman said, “On the house,” with a wink, indeed leaving his gift off the bill… which was treated to not the sale’s promise of ‘40% off a $50+ purchase!’ but fifty.
…everyone deserves a lucky break every now and again. Even you. Especially you. Zeke’s words rang in Casey’s head as he sat in the car, waiting for Zeke who’d gone into the Starbucks shop next door to ‘Shot-Spot’ for their bathroom and coffees for both of them. Casey had chosen to spend some time digging around in his collection of goodies; film, new flash, filters, reusable batteries AND charger…
He’d thought that after this small but significant binge, he’d feel guilt creep in past the spending-high. With each piece he brought up to inspect, he expected the shift. ‘Good enough’ had always sufficed, and breaking that record, his rule to enjoy the effects from this giant pile of ‘BETTER than good’ he now had in his lap had him waiting. Waiting. And waiting. And yet, a much different and unexpected feeling came forth, put into words Casey didn’t tell himself very often, if at all.
‘They really love me. Respect me.’ Casey’s nose twitched, yet again feeling a wave of warm, comforting emotion. With he and Jeremy in the clear and better for it, and Zeke, always coming around when he didn’t have to bother with him at all-Casey had something to give them, so they kept coming back for more. They didn’t want him to go against his principles because they felt they were stupid, but that they craved to get around that one corner Casey insisted on roping-off and never letting anyone past. Casey looked up toward the café, unable to see past the first set of tables in the window. Zeke was in there, getting complicated, foreign-named coffee drinks for them. The restaurant’s prices were far higher than their usual Dunks or gas station stops. The ‘good enough’ options Casey usually took.
But things, food and shopping weren’t always as trite, or meaningless in their material worth. There were people with money who would buy people off with ‘things’, people like Tim. He’d been bad enough that even with Jeremy sharing his snobby views, he’d had enough sense left in him to make a turnaround, with his good friend’s help. Maybe Thomas was Jeremy’s Zeke, a guy who’d share not just his wealth, but himself. Jeremy was lucky to have him, just as Casey would be forever-fortunate to have come across HIS hero.
“Christ, stop crying,” he said aloud when he realized he’d teared-up. Zeke was on his way out of the café now, carrying their drinks and a small paper bag. Sniffing hard, Casey quickly swiped his scarf over his face to hide emotional-evidence, cleared his throat and smiled as he reached over to Zeke’s door handle.
“Hey, thanks,” Zeke said, shoving it open wider with his foot. Casey took his cup and the bag to let Zeke settle in.
“What’s this?” he asked, looking into the bag.
“Birthday-cake-pops,” Zeke said, grinning as he sipped. At Casey’s questioning stare sent his way, he chuckled. “I know, right?”
The two lollipop-shaped, frost-covered treats were taken out and they each took a bite. “Not bad,” Zeke said. Casey hummed in agreement, finding the pastry delightfully delicious and super moist.
“Didn’t know they made cake like this,” he said.
“Mmm, we should tell your mom. Bet she’d try to make ‘em-especially if I promise to come over every time she DOES.”
Casey snort-chortled. “Every night, then. We’re gonna get so fuckin’ fat,” he replied before washing down the finished, way-too-small treat with his first sip of macchiato.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” Zeke asked. He started the car and gave Casey a sly smirk, which Casey returned.
“Dunno. Does it matter to you?”
“Nope.”
~*~
They hadn’t even needed to ask Mrs. Connor if there was enough of tonight’s dinner to share, as just Zeke entering the house with Casey meant he’d be joining-in. Casey had to chuckle when his father arrived from his trip to the mall and saw Zeke sitting with Casey in the living room.
“Why so awkward, gentlemen?” Casey asked after they exchanged blushing, stilted ‘hello’s. That was enough to break the ice, regarding the sneaky little comrades they’d been. It let Mr. Connor sigh, smile and sit in his chair. As he’d opened the paper, he cleared his throat.
“Been meaning to ask, Son… seeing as your attendance record at school is so sparkling, they’d called Friday, wondering which funeral home to send flowers to,” he said, eyes set on the paper but a wry smirk tickling the corner of his lips. “They figure that’d be the only reason for your suddenly not showing up without a parent calling it in.”
Before Casey could get past the terror he felt at what kind of grounding skipping-school earned him-he’d never done it before, knowing the dire consequences-Zeke held up his hands. “I’m the culprit, there. I hadn’t known it was a half-day ‘til he told me, and I’d only gotten about four or five minutes of sleep the night before, so…”
“I’d barely slept the night before too!” Casey added in a rush.
“I forced him to, really. He tried jumping out of the car AS it was speeding out of the lot-“
“Zeke, the heck??”
“-So you could consider it a kidnapping, I spos’.”
“Whatever, it was YOUR fault anyway, Dad, forcing Zeke into that ‘We Hate Jeremy’ club, he was SO stressed-out and so was I… duh!”
Mr. Connor slapped the paper down, looking overwhelmed as he waved his hands around in wide, quick swoops. “Good GOD, everyone just shuddup!” he said, but the puffs of laughter he made had both boys settle back down. Groaning, he grabbed the paper again but looked to them, saying, “You’re off-the-hook, THIS time… both of you,” before telling ‘em to give him some peace and wait for dinner upstairs in Casey’s room. They complied of course, Casey feeling grateful that he wouldn’t be locked into the house for an inordinate amount of time, serving time.
“This stuff really IS awesome,” Casey said as he went to his camera bag to store his new tools and film into. Zeke took a seat in a beanbag chair, smiling.
“Thanks for letting me-well, me and Jer, I guess, do it,” he said.
“No, y’know… you were right.” Casey zipped everything up and started unpacking the battery-charger. Just this was going to be a game-changer, as he wouldn’t have to set aside any funds for the expensive brand of double-AAs he usually bought. He glanced up at Zeke while unpacking the set of eight batteries, saying, “I gotta ‘give-in’ a little, every now and again.”
“Have your limits, Case… nothing wrong with ‘em. But yeah. Friends can have fun giving YOU fun sometimes,” Zeke said. He made a light yawn, stretched and looked to Casey’s desk. “Hey… are those the pics?”
“Huh?” Casey looked to where he was pointing and brightened. “Oh-yeah. Our ‘snow-day’ adventures, you never got to see ‘em…”
“Get ‘em,” Zeke said, sitting at-attention and making ‘gimmee!’ motions with his hand toward the two packets.
For the next good while, they had a viewing of their day, both sitting close on the beanbags together to laugh, discuss and shake their heads over their antics, captured forever on film. The copies of Jeremy’s set had been stuffed with the ones Casey had taken, letting them see his level of skill. Zeke was particularly impressed with the action-shot of their ill-fated toboggan ride with Stan and Stokely. “A real soldier, considering his narrowly-escaping death to get this shot,” Zeke said, eyes set on the perfectly-framed picture of the foursome. Stan’s eyes were closed in fear, Stokely wearing her usual ‘gleeful-devil-girl’ expression while both Casey and Zeke wore excited smiles. Getting to the next picture, Zeke raised his eyebrows.
“He-e-ey, wait… when did he get a pic of THAT disaster?” he asked. Casey laughed; that bush had almost taken out an eye, but he was glad Jeremy had taken a quick click-flash! of the chaotic shrubbery crash. Zeke was furthest away having rolled over the snow to escape, while Casey and Stokely looked as if they were doing things Stan would deck Casey for.
“He’s good, like we’ve been saying,” Casey said.
“Got copies, right?” Zeke asked.
“Yeah… I’ll go through ‘em all so Stan and Stokes get a bunch, too.”
“I’m here now. Plus, I’m special, right?”
Casey sniffed out a chuckle and let him have his way. Again. But as Zeke sorted through them, an idea sparked in his brain. The wider Zeke’s smile grew and the higher his stack got, Casey worked through what kind of ‘project’ he could put together. Considering how he had a lot to thank for in this boy…
“Okay, I left ‘em a couple,” Zeke finally said, putting everything back. With a satisfied smile, he put his stack on the bed and stood. “Coffee’s calling, be right back…”
“’K,” Casey said. He was glad for the interruption, giving him the chance to look through the pics Zeke had chosen once he was gone. He made his search quick, knowing which one to sneak out of the pile. Halfway through, he found it and snatched it back.
Jeremy always liked capturing candid moments, skilled at staying off to the side and letting people forget that there was a cameraman lurking around. The picture he’d gotten, without Casey even knowing it’d been snapped, proved that he had no insecurity over Casey’s being around the ex. He and Zeke were sitting in the snow, Casey just finished with making a snow angel. He remembered the conversation going on in this picture.
”C’mon, make one next to mine so they’re holding hands!”
“But I’m no angel.”
Zeke’s evil little smirk was mid-drag, a small cloud of smoke swelling from the tip of his cigarette, while Casey was leaned back on his hands, giving him his famous, ‘whatever, you jerk,’ sarcastic smile. The black-and-white image made it even more artistic and defined.
The sound of the bathroom door opening made Casey shuffle over to the picture-packets quick to stuff the shot inside. “You’d think I had TEN coffees, the way I went on in there…” Zeke was saying as he reentered the room.
“Glad to know,” Casey sarcastically replied.