(no subject)
due to the massive headache I've had all day, I haven't posted yet, sorry. headache still not gone, I'm hoping sleep will fix it. ugh.
I'm not sure I'm happy with the ending, so I may fix that at some point, who knows. atm, I just want to finish as many of my WIPs as possible, cause my WIP folder annoys me with its size.
Title: Two-Person Solitude
Rating: PG-13 for some language, maybe? can't remember
Warnings: m/m. some angst and beware concussions from the plothammer of doom:
Summary: Lyall and Tracy. something. will put something here when I can think again without wanting to pull my head off.
Lyall rang the bell, and smiled at the woman who opened the door. "Hey, Mrs. Meadows. How are you today?"
"Oh, hello, Lyall!" she cooed, beaming at him for being 'such a well-mannered boy'. The ladies in the neighbourhood were easily fooled. "Why thank you, I'm doing wonderful."
"That's great, Mrs. Meadows," he said politely, before she could start a rant on exactly what had made her day so wonderful. She could be kinda annoying, if you didn't know how to handle her. She meant well, though. "Say, is Tracy in?"
"Oh, you know how he is," she replied, pursing her lips in displeasure. "Never leaves his room, that child. I don't know what to do with him. Lord, if he didn't have a good friend like you coming by..." Sighing, she shook her head, before patting Lyall's cheek with a smile. "You're a good boy, Lyall, and a good friend."
"That's what friends are for, Mrs. Meadows," he said simply, hoping that'd be enough of a greeting ritual for today. He'd never met anyone as enamoured with empty chatter as Mrs. Meadows, not even the girls at school.
She gave him another fond look, and patted his shoulder. "Well, you go on up, wouldn't want you keep you down here talking to some old lady," she said, and winked. "What would the neighbours think? I'll come up with some lemonade and cookies in a few, how 'bout that?"
Lyall inwardly rolled his eyes. She loved making the joke that the neighbours would think they had some secret affair going on. In Lyall's opinion, you'd have to be pretty damn stupid for the thought to even cross your mind. On the outside, he smiled. "Thanks, Mrs. Meadows. You really don't have to, though, I wouldn't want to trouble you."
"Oh, it's no trouble!" she beamed. "Now, off you go."
With a nod, he went in, and up the stairs to knock on Tracy's door, ignoring the throbbing in his right knee. It didn't hurt all that bad, anyway.
"Go away!" came the yell from the other side.
With a grin, he opened the door. "Nice to see you too, Tracy," he replied, and dropped his bag while closing the door, before collapsing in the bean bag in the middle of the cluttered room. Tracy wasn't exactly a tidy person. "So, what's up?"
With a groan, Tracy twirled his office chair away from his computer. "Nothing much, I was just playing some WoW, until I was interrupted. What do you want, anyway?"
"Nothing much, I'm just here to make sure you're not alone, left to drown in your loneliness and ennui," Lyall replied, stretching to poke Tracy's leg with his foot. It wasn't really too hard; Tracy's room was kinda small, and Lyall was one of the tallest people in school. Sometimes, he felt like his entire body was made up of arms and legs.
Tracy twirled his chair again, to escape, which just meant Lyall had to capture his friend's legs with his own, and pull him back.
"Screw you, there's a difference between 'alone' and 'lonely'," Tracy said sulkily, trying to get his legs back. "And you shouldn't use words you don't know the meaning of, it just makes you sound like the idiot you are."
"Hey, just because you don't know doesn't mean I don't know," Lyall grinned in reply, pulling even more on Tracy's feet, so he was having trouble staying in his chair. He always won this game, and yet Tracy never stopped resisting.
"Screw you," Tracy repeated, glaring. "I enjoy my solitude, and I'd like to continue doing so without interruptions." He tried for dignity, but that was hard to maintain when you were lying slumped halfway on a chair, and half on your way to the floor.
"Aww, surely you've got room for widdle ol' me in your solitude?" Lyall said, doing his best impression of a begging puppy. It was kinda ruined by how he was still also doing his best to pull Tracy from his chair.
"That defeats the entire point of solitude, from latin solus, meaning 'alone' or 'only one'," Tracy retorted, showing off his language geekiness while attempting to pull himself back up. He wasn't having much success with the latter. There was never any doubt about Tracy being a geek, though.
Lyall quite liked his pale skin and freckles, though, and dark blond hair. And his wrists were almost unnervingly slender, which made Lyall want to hug him close and protect him from the world.
Of course, Tracy didn't really interact enough with the world to need protecting from it, besides through the internet, and he could definitely hold his own on a computer. There was something incredibly sexy about slender fingers running rapidly over a keyboard, doing stuff Lyall didn't even understand.
Tracy was a total genius. The only thing Lyall was good at was playing soccer. If they didn't live across the street from each other, Lyall doubted they'd ever have talked. Which would've been a pity, 'cause Tracy was funny, sharp of tongue, and just adorably cute when he was sulking.
"I think two-person solitude sounds kinda good, though." Finally, he won the tug-of-war, and Tracy was on the floor. Of course, Lyall wasn't much better off himself, though, already halfway off the bean bag. He hid a wince as pain shot through his leg once again. Maybe the pulling thing hadn't been such a great idea. Oh well. It would stop hurting soon enough. He'd probably just worked his knee a little too hard at practice yesterday.
Tracy opened his mouth to make some genius argument that basically could be summed up as "you're an idiot" when there was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Meadows came in, carrying a tray. He shut his mouth with a loud clack of teeth.
"Cookies and lemonade, boys!" she declared cheerfully. " Oh, we're sitting on the floor today! Well, I say, it's always good to try a change of perspective."
"Thank you, Mrs. Meadows," Lyall replied dutifully as she set the tray on the floor in front of them.
"Oh, Lyall, no thanks needed," she cooed in reply, while winking at him for the second time that day. "You know I'd do anything for you."
Lyall laughed at her joke. "You shouldn't say that, Mrs. Meadows, what would your husband think?"
"Well, if you love my mom so much, why don't you go visit her instead," Tracy snapped, opening his mouth for the first time since his mother entered the room.
"Tracy!" Mrs. Meadows exclaimed in outrage. "You don't talk like that to your friends!"
Tracy opened his mouth for a scathing retort, and Lyall hurriedly interrupted him before this turned into some shouting match. "Really, don't worry about it, Mrs. Meadows, I don't mind. He doesn't mean it, it's just a joke. Right?"
The last he said to Tracy, giving him a pleading look to go with the story. Tracy looked away, and mumbled something that could pass for a yes. Barely. If helped along by lots of goodwill.
"Oh Tracy," Mrs. Meadows sighed. "You really are an awkward child. Whatever did we do wrong?"
Seeing that Tracy was about to explode, Lyall gave Mrs. Meadows a bright smile. "Anyway, thank you so much for the cookies and lemonade! I'll bring the tray back down when we're done, okay?"
Fortunately, she was easily sidetracked, and beamed at him. "Oh, don't worry about it, dear. Well, you boys have fun now."
Hah, Lyall snorted inwardly. I wish...
Of course, he doubted that was the kind of fun Mrs. Meadows had had in mind. He breathed a sigh of relief, and slumped to the floor when she finally left.
"Sucking up to my mom again, as always," Tracy said sourly, but still went for the lemonade.
Lyall sighed again. "Y'know, if you'd just pretended for even a split second that you don't hate her guts, you'd have her outta your hair way faster," he said, for the umpteenth time.
And for the umpteenth time, Tracy ignored him, and instead grabbed a cookie. "I see no reason to pretend to find her inane chatter interesting. She's practically braindead. I'm pretty sure I'm adopted, cause it can't be genetically possible that someone that stupid is my biological parent." He took a bite, looking happy, for once. Tracy was a hopeless sweet tooth. Not that he'd ever admit to that.
Lyall was pretty sure nobody else knew. It was one of the reasons he made sure to be extra polite when he was talking to Mrs. Meadows, cause it usually meant cookies or sweets of some kind when he came over, and that usually meant Tracy would smile.
Lately, there'd been a distinct lack of smiles from Tracy, and Lyall did not approve.
The first cookie was gone, which meant nothing was distracting Tracy at the moment. "So, why are you here?" he asked again.
"I already told you," Lyall smiled, and went for a cookie of his own. He could see Tracy's hand twitcing, as if he wanted to slap Lyall away from the sugary goodness, but knew that would expose his love for said sugar.
Lyall's smile turned slightly smug. Tracy hadn't figured out that he knew yet, and still tried desperately to hide it. He wasn't doing the best of jobs, though, if you knew what signs to look for.
Tracy gave an annoyed sigh. "Look, I'm not lonely, and I don't need your pity. I'm just fine on my own - in fact I prefer it that way - so take your charity elsewhere, okay?!"
Lyall blinked in surprise, shocked, and a little hurt. Sure, Tracy had a temper, but it had been years since Lyall had been on the receiving end of any real, heartfelt anger from him. That was usually reserved for other people.
"What?" he managed at last.
"I said, I'm sick of being your charity project!" Tracy yelled. "Find someone else to ease your guilt on, or adopt a kitten or something. If you're so desperate to save the damn world, then find some other piece of it to save, cause this one's doing just fine."
If Lyall was the kind of guy to cry, he probably would have. Charity project? What the hell? Weren't they friends?
"Charity project? You really thought I'd actually visit someone practically every day out of pity?" Lyall demanded. The hurt was rapidly giving way to anger. "Don't flatter yourself, Tracy. I'm not enough of a saint to hang out with someone out of pity. And why the hell would I even pity someone for a pathetic reason like loneliness, anyway?"
He got up, and grabbed his bag. "You're not the only person in the world, and the world doesn't revolve around you, either. Did the thought that maybe you're not the only lonely person out there ever cross your mind?"
"Lonely? You?" Tracy gave him an incredulous look. "The school's most popular guy?"
Lyall rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure. People talk to me cause I can kick a ball. They don't care about anything but matches, bad jokes and getting shitfaced drunk. If I'm not there for those things, they'd drop me quicker than hot coal. Nobody gives a damn about me," he shot back with a bitter smile. "Well, I thought maybe you did, but I guess I was wrong."
He shook his head, before running his hand though his hair. "I don't know why I even bothered. I should've known you weren't ever gonna see me."
He opened the door. "Enjoy your precious solitude, and pray you never get sick of it. Cause if you do..." he trailed off with a shrug. "Well, you did a pretty damn good job at chasing everybody off. Congratulations." He shut the door gently behind him, not even caring about the tray he'd promised to take down, or keeping up appearances with Mrs. Meadows.
What was the point? It wasn't as if he was planning on ever coming back. Instead, he just ignored her, and calmly went home.
...Was it just his imagination, or had the pain in his knee worsened?
***
Tracy gaped in surprise at his closed door. Wow. He didn't think he'd actually ever seen Lyall angry before.
Still, he didn't have to get that mad. It was just a big misunderstanding. In fact, Tracy wasn't entirely sure why he'd believed those those gossips, anyway.
It was just that... Lyall was nice and bright and popular. Not to mention smoking hot. Unlike Tracy, he seemed to actually like people, and got along with them just fine. He just couldn't figure out why someone like Lyall would hang out with someone like Tracy, and then those two bitches had said it was just out of pity, and it'd... made sense. Lyall was nice enough to hang out with the poor outcast nobody else cared about.
Still, Lyall being lonely was a bit of a stretch. That one he really couldn't believe.
Oh well. He'd just have to... apologize the next time Lyall came by. Tracy grimaced. That would be embarassing. He probably hadn't apologized to anyone in years. Still, Lyall was nice, and not annoying, like most people. He hated to admit it, but Lyall was a... friend. Maybe even more.
Tracy blushed. Relationships were stupid and pointless, but if it was Lyall, he wouldn't mind. It'd be nice.
Which was why it had hurt so much in the first place. He knew that Lyall didn't think of him as anything but a friend, but if he didn't even have that...
But yeah, Lyall would probably be back tomorrow or the day after to apologize for yelling. Lyall didn't yell at people. Then Tracy could apologize as well, and everything would go back to normal.
With a satisfied nod, Tracy grabbed another delicious cookie, andwent back to his game. If he was lucky, maybe he'd get to see that hilarious flying mount glitch again.
But Lyall didn't come the next day. Or the day after. In fact, a whole week went by without Lyall coming by. Tracy wondered whether he was still angry. Since he hadn't ever seen Lyall angry before, he had no reference, and no idea how long Lyall usually stayed mad.
Maybe he should see if he could find Lyall at school, and apologize first. But he couldn't do it in front of everybody, that was just too embarrassing, so he'd had to find some chance when Lyall was alone. But usually, that was pretty rare. Most of the time, Lyall was right in the middle of the loudest, brightest group on campus, smiling and laughing.
Yet, for some reason, Tracy just couldn't find Lyall at all. Was he being avoided, or something? Cause usually, Lyall was the easiest person to find in the entire school. Everybody knew where Lyall was at any given time.
Another week went by, and Tracy was almost getting worried. Then he overheard the whispers. He usually didn't pay attention to the gossip, but after the tenth time he heard someone mention Lyall's name in hushed tones, he decided to listen in. There were so many opportunities, it was just disgustingly easy to overhear and get the entire story.
Lyall's knee was injured, and he was having surgery. Rehabilitation would take months, so he was off the team.
The rest of the story he didn't give a damn about. He was a bit annoyed, though. Why hadn't he known about this? Knees don't just need surgery overnight. At least not unless there was some accident or something, and then Lyall would've been rushed to the hospital, and he would've known.
Well, he supposed that explained why Lyall hadn't been by. Maybe he couldn't walk, or something.
Which meant Tracy would actually have to go to Lyall's place to apologize. He grimaced at the thought. The place would probably be full of guys making bad jokes or whatever it was jocks did, and girls cooing and saying they'd nurse him back to health
Tracy really didn't want to see that. It was bad enough that Lyall'd been mad with him, even if he probably wasn't anymore.
Maybe if he went late at night? He almost growled. He'd promised to be on for a campaign tonight, he wasn't changing that just because of some idiots. He'd just march in there, apologize, and then leave. There. Then everything would be okay, and things would go back to normal.
Time seemed to pass almost excruciatingly slowly after his decision was made. Even class that were normally quite interesting couldn't keep his attention. At last, though, school was over, and he headed home.
Well, headed to Lyall's house. Standing outside Lyall's front door, he felt strangely nervous. Funny, he hadn't really been here in ages. Lyall usually came by his place, not the other way around.
He rang the bell, fidgeting with his bag while waiting for someone to answer.
Lyall's mom answered, and blinked in surprise before smiling brightly. "Tracy! How good to see you! It's probably been years since the last time."
"Hello, Mrs. Kinneas," he mumbled in reply, embarrassed. "Nice to see you again, too." He hoped that was the right thing to say. Socializing wasn't really his thing.
"I guess you're here to see Lyall?" Mrs. Kinneas smiled. "Good thing you came, too, he's been moping for too long."
Tracy almost couldn't believe his own ears. Lyall? Moping? Was this some sort of alternate universe or something?
"Well, I won't keep you here," Mrs. Kinneas said when Tracy couldn't come up with some appropriate reply. "Head on up, won't you?"
Tracy just nodded and headed upstairs to Lyall's room, knocking gently when he reached the door. There was no reply. He frowned in thought before discreetly opening the door.
Lyall was lying on his bed, just staring at the ceiling with a blank expression.
"Lyall?" Tracy asked timidly. "Hey..."
"Wow, they must be having an ice sculpture championship in hell right now. Would've liked to see that. Pity I can't move," Lyall said with a bitter smile, not looking away from the ceiling.
Tracy stared at him in complete and utter disbelief. This wasn't how he'd thought this would go. This wasn't how Lyall usually acted. He searched for something appropriate to say. "Um... how's the knee?" he tried.
"Oh, just fine. They gave me pain killers, so I can't feel a thing. And apparently, after surgery and months of rehab, I'll be able to live normally. Soccer's out of the question, though. Oh well, it doesn't really matter. It's not like that was the only thing I was ever good at, or anything."
Tracy almost felt like crying. This just... wasn't right. Lyall hadn't even looked at him once yet.
As if he'd read his mind, Lyall turned to face Tracy. "So, why are you here? You here to laugh at me, or something? Or maybe you're pitying me, and decided to be my friend, since nobody else cares about some cripple?"
"Wha-what?" Tracy stammered. "What do you mean, nobody cares about some cripple? I came straight here after school, so they'll all be here in a while, won't they?"
Lyall barked a laugh, and turned back to stare at the ceiling. "I told Coach four days ago. You're the first person to come by. The best part is, if I'd got it treated earlier, it might've healed completely, but Coach said it wasn't serious, and to stop acting like a sissy. And I believed him. Now he's ignoring me. And whoever Coach ignores, the team ignores. Any other so-called 'friends' I might've had wouldn't wanna be seen dead with a cripple. And to everybody else in school, I'm still some asshole jock."
"So," he continued, and turned to face Tracy again. "Why are you here? Don't you have your precious solitude and computers and whatever to go back to?"
Tracy was horrified. He'd never, ever even imagined Lyall like this. It was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Lyall was supposed to be smiling, like always.
"But," he managed at last. "I-...I just wanted to apologize. I thought you'd come back, but you didn't, so I was looking for you, but couldn't find you at school or anything, and then I heard, so I came to visit, and then..."
He shut his mouth with an audible click. Even if he was confused, babbling was just too pathetic.
Lyall looked confused. At least that was an improvement to angry and bitter and cold. "Apologize?"
"Y'know," he said, embarrassed, looking down. He hadn't really expected to babble. Or to be forced to explain what he was apologizing for. "Some girls told me that you were only being my friend out of pity, and it sort of made sense, cause I couldn't really find any other good reason why you would want to be friends with someone like me."
"What?" Lyall asked. "Who said that? Why?"
Tracy shrugged. "I dunno, some girls. I don't know their names, why would I? And the thought really hurt, cause, I mean, I like you. You're pretty much the only real life person I know who isn't annoying," he mumbled.
Lyall actually smiled - really smiled - and Tracy almost breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, it wasn't as bright and cheery as usual, but it was a real smile.
"Wow, I didn't think there even existed such a thing as a person you don't find annoying," Lyall remarked. "I'm flattered."
"Shut up," Tracy grumbled, pretty sure his face was bright red.
"And for the record, I'm your friend - at least I tought I was your friend - because you're smart, funny, and too damn cute for your own good," Lyall said, then blinked a few times before groaning. "Damn meds, gimme back my brain-mouth filter."
"I'm not cute!" Tracy protested, mostly because that was the only part of the sentence he could process and react to without his mind breaking.
Lyall sighed. "Really didn't wanna go there, but I can't just let that slide," he said, and sat upright on his bed. "Yes, you are. Especially when you're pouting, and how you think your love for sweet things is so subtly and cleverly disguised."
"What?!" he exclaimed. Lyall knew about his love for sweet things?! How? Why? Since when? It was just too embarrassing to think about. Tracy'd always thought he was hiding it perfectly.
"Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. Why would I encourage competition?" Lyall said, laughing at Tracy's obvious distress.
If he hadn't been so relieved to hear Lyall laugh again, he would've smacked the guy for being a smug bastard who made no sense. "Competition? What competition?"
Lyall sighed yet again. "Well, it should be pretty obvious by now, so I might as well admit it. I swear, I'm gonna sue that stupid drug company for ruining my life. And the doctor. A little pain would've been way better than the complete mess this is gonna be," he grumbled, before taking a deep breath. "I like you. And I don't mean the one you were saying earlier, as friends. I mean... yeah, you get the picture." Lyall looked away, blushing.
Tracy was speechless. Not only was this too damn good to be true, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen Lyall blush like that before.
Lyall shot him a worried glance, and went on. "Don't worry about it, though, I'm fine with just being friends - if you're not freaked out or anything, of course. I won't do anything weird."
If this was a dream, then logically, he shouldn't feel pain. Of course, pinching his arm would be a too boring way to check. Although this being a dream would indeed explain while Lyall had acted so strange. Still, even if it was a dream, Tracy planned on getting the most out of it.
"...so yeah, I hope you won't hate me, I can't really..."
Huh, Lyall was still talking. How annoying. Tracy slowly walked closer. "Lyall?" he said, and grabbed his best friend's face. "Shut up."
Then he assisted in the shutting up. And judging by the jarring pain as their teeth and lips collided a little bit too forcefully, it wasn't a dream.
I'm not sure I'm happy with the ending, so I may fix that at some point, who knows. atm, I just want to finish as many of my WIPs as possible, cause my WIP folder annoys me with its size.
Title: Two-Person Solitude
Rating: PG-13 for some language, maybe? can't remember
Warnings: m/m. some angst and beware concussions from the plothammer of doom:
Summary: Lyall and Tracy. something. will put something here when I can think again without wanting to pull my head off.
Lyall rang the bell, and smiled at the woman who opened the door. "Hey, Mrs. Meadows. How are you today?"
"Oh, hello, Lyall!" she cooed, beaming at him for being 'such a well-mannered boy'. The ladies in the neighbourhood were easily fooled. "Why thank you, I'm doing wonderful."
"That's great, Mrs. Meadows," he said politely, before she could start a rant on exactly what had made her day so wonderful. She could be kinda annoying, if you didn't know how to handle her. She meant well, though. "Say, is Tracy in?"
"Oh, you know how he is," she replied, pursing her lips in displeasure. "Never leaves his room, that child. I don't know what to do with him. Lord, if he didn't have a good friend like you coming by..." Sighing, she shook her head, before patting Lyall's cheek with a smile. "You're a good boy, Lyall, and a good friend."
"That's what friends are for, Mrs. Meadows," he said simply, hoping that'd be enough of a greeting ritual for today. He'd never met anyone as enamoured with empty chatter as Mrs. Meadows, not even the girls at school.
She gave him another fond look, and patted his shoulder. "Well, you go on up, wouldn't want you keep you down here talking to some old lady," she said, and winked. "What would the neighbours think? I'll come up with some lemonade and cookies in a few, how 'bout that?"
Lyall inwardly rolled his eyes. She loved making the joke that the neighbours would think they had some secret affair going on. In Lyall's opinion, you'd have to be pretty damn stupid for the thought to even cross your mind. On the outside, he smiled. "Thanks, Mrs. Meadows. You really don't have to, though, I wouldn't want to trouble you."
"Oh, it's no trouble!" she beamed. "Now, off you go."
With a nod, he went in, and up the stairs to knock on Tracy's door, ignoring the throbbing in his right knee. It didn't hurt all that bad, anyway.
"Go away!" came the yell from the other side.
With a grin, he opened the door. "Nice to see you too, Tracy," he replied, and dropped his bag while closing the door, before collapsing in the bean bag in the middle of the cluttered room. Tracy wasn't exactly a tidy person. "So, what's up?"
With a groan, Tracy twirled his office chair away from his computer. "Nothing much, I was just playing some WoW, until I was interrupted. What do you want, anyway?"
"Nothing much, I'm just here to make sure you're not alone, left to drown in your loneliness and ennui," Lyall replied, stretching to poke Tracy's leg with his foot. It wasn't really too hard; Tracy's room was kinda small, and Lyall was one of the tallest people in school. Sometimes, he felt like his entire body was made up of arms and legs.
Tracy twirled his chair again, to escape, which just meant Lyall had to capture his friend's legs with his own, and pull him back.
"Screw you, there's a difference between 'alone' and 'lonely'," Tracy said sulkily, trying to get his legs back. "And you shouldn't use words you don't know the meaning of, it just makes you sound like the idiot you are."
"Hey, just because you don't know doesn't mean I don't know," Lyall grinned in reply, pulling even more on Tracy's feet, so he was having trouble staying in his chair. He always won this game, and yet Tracy never stopped resisting.
"Screw you," Tracy repeated, glaring. "I enjoy my solitude, and I'd like to continue doing so without interruptions." He tried for dignity, but that was hard to maintain when you were lying slumped halfway on a chair, and half on your way to the floor.
"Aww, surely you've got room for widdle ol' me in your solitude?" Lyall said, doing his best impression of a begging puppy. It was kinda ruined by how he was still also doing his best to pull Tracy from his chair.
"That defeats the entire point of solitude, from latin solus, meaning 'alone' or 'only one'," Tracy retorted, showing off his language geekiness while attempting to pull himself back up. He wasn't having much success with the latter. There was never any doubt about Tracy being a geek, though.
Lyall quite liked his pale skin and freckles, though, and dark blond hair. And his wrists were almost unnervingly slender, which made Lyall want to hug him close and protect him from the world.
Of course, Tracy didn't really interact enough with the world to need protecting from it, besides through the internet, and he could definitely hold his own on a computer. There was something incredibly sexy about slender fingers running rapidly over a keyboard, doing stuff Lyall didn't even understand.
Tracy was a total genius. The only thing Lyall was good at was playing soccer. If they didn't live across the street from each other, Lyall doubted they'd ever have talked. Which would've been a pity, 'cause Tracy was funny, sharp of tongue, and just adorably cute when he was sulking.
"I think two-person solitude sounds kinda good, though." Finally, he won the tug-of-war, and Tracy was on the floor. Of course, Lyall wasn't much better off himself, though, already halfway off the bean bag. He hid a wince as pain shot through his leg once again. Maybe the pulling thing hadn't been such a great idea. Oh well. It would stop hurting soon enough. He'd probably just worked his knee a little too hard at practice yesterday.
Tracy opened his mouth to make some genius argument that basically could be summed up as "you're an idiot" when there was a knock on the door, and Mrs. Meadows came in, carrying a tray. He shut his mouth with a loud clack of teeth.
"Cookies and lemonade, boys!" she declared cheerfully. " Oh, we're sitting on the floor today! Well, I say, it's always good to try a change of perspective."
"Thank you, Mrs. Meadows," Lyall replied dutifully as she set the tray on the floor in front of them.
"Oh, Lyall, no thanks needed," she cooed in reply, while winking at him for the second time that day. "You know I'd do anything for you."
Lyall laughed at her joke. "You shouldn't say that, Mrs. Meadows, what would your husband think?"
"Well, if you love my mom so much, why don't you go visit her instead," Tracy snapped, opening his mouth for the first time since his mother entered the room.
"Tracy!" Mrs. Meadows exclaimed in outrage. "You don't talk like that to your friends!"
Tracy opened his mouth for a scathing retort, and Lyall hurriedly interrupted him before this turned into some shouting match. "Really, don't worry about it, Mrs. Meadows, I don't mind. He doesn't mean it, it's just a joke. Right?"
The last he said to Tracy, giving him a pleading look to go with the story. Tracy looked away, and mumbled something that could pass for a yes. Barely. If helped along by lots of goodwill.
"Oh Tracy," Mrs. Meadows sighed. "You really are an awkward child. Whatever did we do wrong?"
Seeing that Tracy was about to explode, Lyall gave Mrs. Meadows a bright smile. "Anyway, thank you so much for the cookies and lemonade! I'll bring the tray back down when we're done, okay?"
Fortunately, she was easily sidetracked, and beamed at him. "Oh, don't worry about it, dear. Well, you boys have fun now."
Hah, Lyall snorted inwardly. I wish...
Of course, he doubted that was the kind of fun Mrs. Meadows had had in mind. He breathed a sigh of relief, and slumped to the floor when she finally left.
"Sucking up to my mom again, as always," Tracy said sourly, but still went for the lemonade.
Lyall sighed again. "Y'know, if you'd just pretended for even a split second that you don't hate her guts, you'd have her outta your hair way faster," he said, for the umpteenth time.
And for the umpteenth time, Tracy ignored him, and instead grabbed a cookie. "I see no reason to pretend to find her inane chatter interesting. She's practically braindead. I'm pretty sure I'm adopted, cause it can't be genetically possible that someone that stupid is my biological parent." He took a bite, looking happy, for once. Tracy was a hopeless sweet tooth. Not that he'd ever admit to that.
Lyall was pretty sure nobody else knew. It was one of the reasons he made sure to be extra polite when he was talking to Mrs. Meadows, cause it usually meant cookies or sweets of some kind when he came over, and that usually meant Tracy would smile.
Lately, there'd been a distinct lack of smiles from Tracy, and Lyall did not approve.
The first cookie was gone, which meant nothing was distracting Tracy at the moment. "So, why are you here?" he asked again.
"I already told you," Lyall smiled, and went for a cookie of his own. He could see Tracy's hand twitcing, as if he wanted to slap Lyall away from the sugary goodness, but knew that would expose his love for said sugar.
Lyall's smile turned slightly smug. Tracy hadn't figured out that he knew yet, and still tried desperately to hide it. He wasn't doing the best of jobs, though, if you knew what signs to look for.
Tracy gave an annoyed sigh. "Look, I'm not lonely, and I don't need your pity. I'm just fine on my own - in fact I prefer it that way - so take your charity elsewhere, okay?!"
Lyall blinked in surprise, shocked, and a little hurt. Sure, Tracy had a temper, but it had been years since Lyall had been on the receiving end of any real, heartfelt anger from him. That was usually reserved for other people.
"What?" he managed at last.
"I said, I'm sick of being your charity project!" Tracy yelled. "Find someone else to ease your guilt on, or adopt a kitten or something. If you're so desperate to save the damn world, then find some other piece of it to save, cause this one's doing just fine."
If Lyall was the kind of guy to cry, he probably would have. Charity project? What the hell? Weren't they friends?
"Charity project? You really thought I'd actually visit someone practically every day out of pity?" Lyall demanded. The hurt was rapidly giving way to anger. "Don't flatter yourself, Tracy. I'm not enough of a saint to hang out with someone out of pity. And why the hell would I even pity someone for a pathetic reason like loneliness, anyway?"
He got up, and grabbed his bag. "You're not the only person in the world, and the world doesn't revolve around you, either. Did the thought that maybe you're not the only lonely person out there ever cross your mind?"
"Lonely? You?" Tracy gave him an incredulous look. "The school's most popular guy?"
Lyall rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure. People talk to me cause I can kick a ball. They don't care about anything but matches, bad jokes and getting shitfaced drunk. If I'm not there for those things, they'd drop me quicker than hot coal. Nobody gives a damn about me," he shot back with a bitter smile. "Well, I thought maybe you did, but I guess I was wrong."
He shook his head, before running his hand though his hair. "I don't know why I even bothered. I should've known you weren't ever gonna see me."
He opened the door. "Enjoy your precious solitude, and pray you never get sick of it. Cause if you do..." he trailed off with a shrug. "Well, you did a pretty damn good job at chasing everybody off. Congratulations." He shut the door gently behind him, not even caring about the tray he'd promised to take down, or keeping up appearances with Mrs. Meadows.
What was the point? It wasn't as if he was planning on ever coming back. Instead, he just ignored her, and calmly went home.
...Was it just his imagination, or had the pain in his knee worsened?
***
Tracy gaped in surprise at his closed door. Wow. He didn't think he'd actually ever seen Lyall angry before.
Still, he didn't have to get that mad. It was just a big misunderstanding. In fact, Tracy wasn't entirely sure why he'd believed those those gossips, anyway.
It was just that... Lyall was nice and bright and popular. Not to mention smoking hot. Unlike Tracy, he seemed to actually like people, and got along with them just fine. He just couldn't figure out why someone like Lyall would hang out with someone like Tracy, and then those two bitches had said it was just out of pity, and it'd... made sense. Lyall was nice enough to hang out with the poor outcast nobody else cared about.
Still, Lyall being lonely was a bit of a stretch. That one he really couldn't believe.
Oh well. He'd just have to... apologize the next time Lyall came by. Tracy grimaced. That would be embarassing. He probably hadn't apologized to anyone in years. Still, Lyall was nice, and not annoying, like most people. He hated to admit it, but Lyall was a... friend. Maybe even more.
Tracy blushed. Relationships were stupid and pointless, but if it was Lyall, he wouldn't mind. It'd be nice.
Which was why it had hurt so much in the first place. He knew that Lyall didn't think of him as anything but a friend, but if he didn't even have that...
But yeah, Lyall would probably be back tomorrow or the day after to apologize for yelling. Lyall didn't yell at people. Then Tracy could apologize as well, and everything would go back to normal.
With a satisfied nod, Tracy grabbed another delicious cookie, andwent back to his game. If he was lucky, maybe he'd get to see that hilarious flying mount glitch again.
But Lyall didn't come the next day. Or the day after. In fact, a whole week went by without Lyall coming by. Tracy wondered whether he was still angry. Since he hadn't ever seen Lyall angry before, he had no reference, and no idea how long Lyall usually stayed mad.
Maybe he should see if he could find Lyall at school, and apologize first. But he couldn't do it in front of everybody, that was just too embarrassing, so he'd had to find some chance when Lyall was alone. But usually, that was pretty rare. Most of the time, Lyall was right in the middle of the loudest, brightest group on campus, smiling and laughing.
Yet, for some reason, Tracy just couldn't find Lyall at all. Was he being avoided, or something? Cause usually, Lyall was the easiest person to find in the entire school. Everybody knew where Lyall was at any given time.
Another week went by, and Tracy was almost getting worried. Then he overheard the whispers. He usually didn't pay attention to the gossip, but after the tenth time he heard someone mention Lyall's name in hushed tones, he decided to listen in. There were so many opportunities, it was just disgustingly easy to overhear and get the entire story.
Lyall's knee was injured, and he was having surgery. Rehabilitation would take months, so he was off the team.
The rest of the story he didn't give a damn about. He was a bit annoyed, though. Why hadn't he known about this? Knees don't just need surgery overnight. At least not unless there was some accident or something, and then Lyall would've been rushed to the hospital, and he would've known.
Well, he supposed that explained why Lyall hadn't been by. Maybe he couldn't walk, or something.
Which meant Tracy would actually have to go to Lyall's place to apologize. He grimaced at the thought. The place would probably be full of guys making bad jokes or whatever it was jocks did, and girls cooing and saying they'd nurse him back to health
Tracy really didn't want to see that. It was bad enough that Lyall'd been mad with him, even if he probably wasn't anymore.
Maybe if he went late at night? He almost growled. He'd promised to be on for a campaign tonight, he wasn't changing that just because of some idiots. He'd just march in there, apologize, and then leave. There. Then everything would be okay, and things would go back to normal.
Time seemed to pass almost excruciatingly slowly after his decision was made. Even class that were normally quite interesting couldn't keep his attention. At last, though, school was over, and he headed home.
Well, headed to Lyall's house. Standing outside Lyall's front door, he felt strangely nervous. Funny, he hadn't really been here in ages. Lyall usually came by his place, not the other way around.
He rang the bell, fidgeting with his bag while waiting for someone to answer.
Lyall's mom answered, and blinked in surprise before smiling brightly. "Tracy! How good to see you! It's probably been years since the last time."
"Hello, Mrs. Kinneas," he mumbled in reply, embarrassed. "Nice to see you again, too." He hoped that was the right thing to say. Socializing wasn't really his thing.
"I guess you're here to see Lyall?" Mrs. Kinneas smiled. "Good thing you came, too, he's been moping for too long."
Tracy almost couldn't believe his own ears. Lyall? Moping? Was this some sort of alternate universe or something?
"Well, I won't keep you here," Mrs. Kinneas said when Tracy couldn't come up with some appropriate reply. "Head on up, won't you?"
Tracy just nodded and headed upstairs to Lyall's room, knocking gently when he reached the door. There was no reply. He frowned in thought before discreetly opening the door.
Lyall was lying on his bed, just staring at the ceiling with a blank expression.
"Lyall?" Tracy asked timidly. "Hey..."
"Wow, they must be having an ice sculpture championship in hell right now. Would've liked to see that. Pity I can't move," Lyall said with a bitter smile, not looking away from the ceiling.
Tracy stared at him in complete and utter disbelief. This wasn't how he'd thought this would go. This wasn't how Lyall usually acted. He searched for something appropriate to say. "Um... how's the knee?" he tried.
"Oh, just fine. They gave me pain killers, so I can't feel a thing. And apparently, after surgery and months of rehab, I'll be able to live normally. Soccer's out of the question, though. Oh well, it doesn't really matter. It's not like that was the only thing I was ever good at, or anything."
Tracy almost felt like crying. This just... wasn't right. Lyall hadn't even looked at him once yet.
As if he'd read his mind, Lyall turned to face Tracy. "So, why are you here? You here to laugh at me, or something? Or maybe you're pitying me, and decided to be my friend, since nobody else cares about some cripple?"
"Wha-what?" Tracy stammered. "What do you mean, nobody cares about some cripple? I came straight here after school, so they'll all be here in a while, won't they?"
Lyall barked a laugh, and turned back to stare at the ceiling. "I told Coach four days ago. You're the first person to come by. The best part is, if I'd got it treated earlier, it might've healed completely, but Coach said it wasn't serious, and to stop acting like a sissy. And I believed him. Now he's ignoring me. And whoever Coach ignores, the team ignores. Any other so-called 'friends' I might've had wouldn't wanna be seen dead with a cripple. And to everybody else in school, I'm still some asshole jock."
"So," he continued, and turned to face Tracy again. "Why are you here? Don't you have your precious solitude and computers and whatever to go back to?"
Tracy was horrified. He'd never, ever even imagined Lyall like this. It was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Lyall was supposed to be smiling, like always.
"But," he managed at last. "I-...I just wanted to apologize. I thought you'd come back, but you didn't, so I was looking for you, but couldn't find you at school or anything, and then I heard, so I came to visit, and then..."
He shut his mouth with an audible click. Even if he was confused, babbling was just too pathetic.
Lyall looked confused. At least that was an improvement to angry and bitter and cold. "Apologize?"
"Y'know," he said, embarrassed, looking down. He hadn't really expected to babble. Or to be forced to explain what he was apologizing for. "Some girls told me that you were only being my friend out of pity, and it sort of made sense, cause I couldn't really find any other good reason why you would want to be friends with someone like me."
"What?" Lyall asked. "Who said that? Why?"
Tracy shrugged. "I dunno, some girls. I don't know their names, why would I? And the thought really hurt, cause, I mean, I like you. You're pretty much the only real life person I know who isn't annoying," he mumbled.
Lyall actually smiled - really smiled - and Tracy almost breathed a sigh of relief. Sure, it wasn't as bright and cheery as usual, but it was a real smile.
"Wow, I didn't think there even existed such a thing as a person you don't find annoying," Lyall remarked. "I'm flattered."
"Shut up," Tracy grumbled, pretty sure his face was bright red.
"And for the record, I'm your friend - at least I tought I was your friend - because you're smart, funny, and too damn cute for your own good," Lyall said, then blinked a few times before groaning. "Damn meds, gimme back my brain-mouth filter."
"I'm not cute!" Tracy protested, mostly because that was the only part of the sentence he could process and react to without his mind breaking.
Lyall sighed. "Really didn't wanna go there, but I can't just let that slide," he said, and sat upright on his bed. "Yes, you are. Especially when you're pouting, and how you think your love for sweet things is so subtly and cleverly disguised."
"What?!" he exclaimed. Lyall knew about his love for sweet things?! How? Why? Since when? It was just too embarrassing to think about. Tracy'd always thought he was hiding it perfectly.
"Don't worry, I haven't told anyone. Why would I encourage competition?" Lyall said, laughing at Tracy's obvious distress.
If he hadn't been so relieved to hear Lyall laugh again, he would've smacked the guy for being a smug bastard who made no sense. "Competition? What competition?"
Lyall sighed yet again. "Well, it should be pretty obvious by now, so I might as well admit it. I swear, I'm gonna sue that stupid drug company for ruining my life. And the doctor. A little pain would've been way better than the complete mess this is gonna be," he grumbled, before taking a deep breath. "I like you. And I don't mean the one you were saying earlier, as friends. I mean... yeah, you get the picture." Lyall looked away, blushing.
Tracy was speechless. Not only was this too damn good to be true, he wasn't sure he'd ever seen Lyall blush like that before.
Lyall shot him a worried glance, and went on. "Don't worry about it, though, I'm fine with just being friends - if you're not freaked out or anything, of course. I won't do anything weird."
If this was a dream, then logically, he shouldn't feel pain. Of course, pinching his arm would be a too boring way to check. Although this being a dream would indeed explain while Lyall had acted so strange. Still, even if it was a dream, Tracy planned on getting the most out of it.
"...so yeah, I hope you won't hate me, I can't really..."
Huh, Lyall was still talking. How annoying. Tracy slowly walked closer. "Lyall?" he said, and grabbed his best friend's face. "Shut up."
Then he assisted in the shutting up. And judging by the jarring pain as their teeth and lips collided a little bit too forcefully, it wasn't a dream.