New story idea!
Title: "Standing Up (Part One)"
Pairing: Casey/Zeke (not quite yet)
Rating: R for language
Synopsis: Casey is away at art school and gets some rather disturbing news that brings him home
Disclaimer: Didn't do it. Well I did. But I didn't. Not. Mine.
Casey groaned; he could smell the pot smoke before he’d opened the door, and knew it was going to be another fun-filled hazy night. His roomie was delightful; it didn’t matter what time of day it was, what day it was, or if Casey had a huge test in his classes or not. Steve and however many people that would show up would keep him busy.
He got the door open and walked in, almost getting knocked over by the huge cloud of smoke wafting at him. His arms flapped at it, eyes scrunching up and tearing already. “Jesus!” he cried out, seeing his roommate and four others sitting across the room. He couldn’t tell who they were yet, but didn’t care.
“Shut the fucking door, idiot!” Steve hissed. Casey did so, more out of not wanting to be caught himself. Stuffing the towel back underneath, he stood up and groaned.
“Can’t you guys find some OTHER place to do this shit?” he said, irritated. One of them chuckled and shook his head.
“Such a fuckin’ prude…” he said. Casey glared his way when someone else - coming from Casey’s side of the room - called out.
“C’mere, guys, you gotta SEE this chick!!”
“What the FUCK…” Casey snarled, storming over before anyone else could stand. His eyes went wide, finding some stranger sitting at HIS computer. “HEY! Who the fuck are you? Get off of my computer!!” he nearly bellowed. The guy turned around, looking at Casey with disdain.
“Fuck, man. Just checking some shit out,” he said, getting up slowly. Looking to the screen, Casey winced. A video was playing, displaying a woman masturbating full frontal.
“FUCK’S sake!!” he yelled, sitting down at it and clicking the screen away.
“What the fuck is wrong with him?” the stranger said to Steve. Steve chuckled, obviously high.
“Told you he was a fucking freak.”
Casey gritted his teeth as he went to erase the porn site from his computer’s history. Great; it probably got his IP address and everything. He couldn’t WAIT for that sort of spam to come up in his e-mail. As he was closing all the windows, a sudden window popped up. Looking to it he saw that it was a messenger pop-up; he clicked on it, ready to tell whoever it was that the fuck-off who was using his computer a moment ago was gone, when suddenly he recognized the name as it came on full-screen.
‘Stokely: What the FUCK is wrong with you, Casey???’ it read. Shit.
‘CC: I just got in!’ he replied back. Turning to the others he glared. “Did any of you use my fucking messenger??”
“No!” the one he’d found at the computer said, sipping a beer. “Some bitch kept comin’ on though, interrupting my downloads!”
“Fuck.” Casey growled out. He went back to typing to Stokely, furious.
‘CC: My fucking roommate is having himself a party, and one of his fucking friends was using the computer.’ He told her. He sat back, seeing that she herself was already typing, displayed at the bottom.
‘Stokely: Case, Zeke’s been in an accident’
Casey stilled. What?? He stared at the screen, eyes widening. Finally he wrenched his hands from under his arms and began typing back again.
‘CC: WHAT???’
‘Stokely: He’s all right; Stan’s been to the hospital. I tried calling before, I didn’t want to have to tell you on-fucking-line, but someone kept picking up the phone and hanging up’
The rage was growing at an enormous rate in Casey right now; he didn’t know what he was going to do to the people in this room when he turned back around. Trying to focus on what Stokely was saying, he turned back to the computer. ‘CC: What the fuck happened???’ Casey asked; his palms were growing sweaty, eyes dry from not blinking in wait for her answers. He hadn’t heard about anything from anyone in over a month, now this.
‘Stokely: Stan said that from what he’d heard Zeke was sitting at a red light when someone hit him from behind. It was a damn good thing he was wearing his safety belt, ‘cause he would have gone through the windshield,’
Casey tried breathing; oh Jesus fuck, he’d listened. “I am NOT getting in your car unless your goddamned seat belt is done, Zeke Tyler!!” he recalled himself yelling a few times when Zeke would pick him up for school. He’d fucking listened to him, he’d listened. Good God.
‘CC: how bad is it?’ he asked with apprehension; God, did he even want to know right now…?
‘Stokely: Well… the seat crunched him in a lot. They needed the jaws of life for fuck’s sake… both his legs got broken’
Oh God… oh fucking hell. Casey felt tears stinging in his eyes now, imagining the scene. He ALMOST laughed, wondering if Zeke had cried more over his GTO than the pain, but it fell away quickly.
‘CC: are you going home??’ he asked. For a moment it didn’t register that she was all the way in California for school. In fact, it didn’t register how far he himself was away from her, all the way In Massachusetts.
‘Stokely: fucking can’t. I just spent the last of my bank account on fixing my OWN car. Otherwise I WOULD be heading home, school or no school’
Casey’s mind was racing; okay, he had a good wad of cash in his own bank account. Good… he also had some money in his locked desk drawer from his birthday last month. Not knowing if it was going to be enough for a bus back home, he typed back, ‘I’m going, fuck I’m gone, like now’
‘Stokely: serious??’
‘CC: fuck yea, I’ll call you later.’
‘Stokely: all right then- good luck’
Casey didn’t even write out a goodbye; he clicked everything away from his screen and jumped from his seat. As he ran over to his bookshelf to get his desks key out, Steve laughed.
“Where the fuck ya goin’, squirt?” he asked.
“None of your fucking business,” he said. He got the key out and proceeded to unlock his desk. Once opened, he rifled through the contents, finding the envelope from his grandmother. Good, that was $50 closer. He had around $90 in the bank, but didn’t know if that was going to be enough. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, turning to face the group. “Steve, I’m gonna need that $40 you owe me.”
Steve scoffed, passing a bong to one of his friends. It took him a moment to answer; when he did, a long trail of heavily scented smoke swam out of his mouth. “Dude, I ain’t got anything to give you,”
“FUCK you don’t, I heard you telling that fucking friend of yours, the fuck’s his name- Andy? Yea, Andy, that you sold a huge load of weed just yesterday!!” Casey angrily stated. “You’ve fucking owed me since November!!”
“Fuck you, man,” Steve told him, his friends chuckling stupidly at his retort. Casey was well past the boiling point now; he’d known in giving that money to this druggie fuck up that he wasn’t going to see it again. He knew that he’d never stand up to him and ask for it back, and hadn’t, until now. Now was different however. Now he wasn’t dorky Casey Connor. He was pissed to all holy hell Casey Connor, who was now rushing into the circle of people to grab Steve by the throat and push him against the wall.
The shock in Steve’s face would have been laughable, if Casey was in a laughing mood. Right now however, all Casey wanted was to strangle the cash out of his throat, if he had to. “You fucking give me… my fucking money… now.” He growled directly into Steve’s face, accentuating his words with a few thumps to the wall with his head. Steve winced and gasped, trying to clutch Casey’s wrist and pull him away.
“F-Fuck…!” Steve uttered, unable to free himself. Nice friends he had, Casey was able to note, seeing them all backing away in the corner of his eye. “A-r-right! Lemmee get in my po-cket!!” Steve croaked out, one shaking hand reaching to his hip. Casey lessened his hold but kept on him, making sure Steve knew he meant business. The hand came up again, holding two twenties. Casey took them then let go, giving one last push to him to make him drop on the floor. Without another word, he went to his dresser drawers, threw random things into a duffel bag, grabbed his coat and left.