I got my evil lil' smile on right now...
So I've covered the bases here; Zeke's no hero in this. So who does Casey have to rely on?
Portishead's "Dummy" is PERFECT for this next segment. I hope if you have it, you put it on while you're reading this...!! Gaw, this is fun...
Title: So Jealous (Pt. 2)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: C/Z
Warnings: character death, disturbing sexual situations, some pretty heavy OOCness.
Synopsis: Humiliating someone isn’t good enough until it’d been shared with as many people as possible.
Disclaimer- Don't know, don't own.
To pretend no one can find,
The fallacies of morning rose,
Forbidden fruit, hidden eyes,
Courtesies that I despise in me
Take a ride, take a shot now.
‘Cause nobody loves me,
It's true,
Not like you do.
~”Sour Times”, Portishead
After getting no answer at the front door, Casey figured Zeke was in one of two places: one, out and two, in the back garage where he produced his scat. How the fucker still got away with it, Casey didn’t know. He took a deep breath and headed down the driveway leading to the enormous garage; it was more of a barn, and it didn’t have very good memories.
Here… that’s where I nearly fell on my face, struggling to run over fallen boards that Delilah… fucking shut up… his thoughts were bothering him. He only needed to focus on one thing, the sounds coming from behind the newly fixed wall ahead of him. It sounded like Zeke was talking.
Casey took a deep breath and knocked on the door. “Who's there?” Zeke called out. Swallowing, Casey unlatched the door and stepped in. Zeke wasn’t alone. Oh fuck, he hadn’t thought of this.
“The fuck are you doing here?”
Zeke looked up from his mixing different powders together in a flask in hearing Gabe’s annoyed tone, finding Casey walking past the large plastic sheet. The fucker dared to make a wry grin, narrowing his eyes. “Oh hey, Casey,” he muttered, putting the flask down and picking up the crumpled pack of cigarettes from the table. He took one out and lit it as Casey folded his arms and bit his lip.
“Hey,” Casey returned silently. Gabe stood up, looking as menacing as he always did.
“Who said you could come by?” Gabe asked. Casey looked to him blankly. “This place is meant for Z’s friends,”
“Since when do you let people use a nickname for you, Zeke?” Casey spat out, trying his best to ignore Gabe. Zeke barely shrugged, puffing smoke in Casey’s direction.
“What the fuck you doin’ here, boy?” he asked. Gabe stood back, cocking an eyebrow Casey’s way as he took a deep breath.
“Figured we could talk about the fucked up shit that happened today,”
“What, you wanna do it again?” Zeke asked, making Gabe snort out a laugh. “Sorry Case, that was a one time thing. You don’t get my class ring,”
Casey’s jaw tensed. He looked to Gabe with stony eyes. “Me and Zeke gotta talk,” he stated firmly; or, well, as firmly as he could. His voice was already starting to shake. It made Gabe scoff out a laugh, sitting back down.
“Nothin’ you can’t say with me here. I already know anyways, I read that fucking pisswipe journal of yours too, y’now,”
Casey started breathing quicker. Gabe hadn’t been there in the bathroom that afternoon. “Really?” Casey said, growing upset. Gabe nodded; Zeke sighed deeply, as if exasperated.
“I got its own special reading at Gabe’s party this weekend. Delilah brought it with her after you’d called her a fucking bitch,” Zeke stated blankly, returning to his powder project. Casey couldn’t help his lower lip from trembling, though he HAD to have figured on something like this. Humiliating someone isn’t good enough until it’d been shared with as many people as possible.
“I don’t fucking believe you,” Casey replied quietly.
“Well it’s true Case, sorry…”
“NO!” Casey now yelled, knowing his face had probably gone here shades of crimson by now. “I can’t FUCKING believe you would… DO that!! What the fuck is WRONG with you, Zeke?? We were fucking friends!!”
Gabe now laughed aloud at this proclamation. “Friends?! Gimmee a break, who the hell is friends with a fag like you?” he asked, incredulous. Casey was starting to sink into himself now; this was too much, he shouldn’t have fucking bothered with this. What did he think he was going to accomplish? Oh yea… he already knew. Already predicted it. Gabe laughed louder now. “Jesus geek, grow up.” He said in seeing Casey’s eyes overflowing. Zeke looked up to Casey, his face still and emotionless.
“Go home, boy,” he told him. Casey was starting to lose control of his mind; NO, he needed to KNOW, and needed to KNOW… NOW.
“You fucking tell me why you mouth raped me and I’ll leave,” he said through gritted teeth, not wanting to start sobbing. Zeke rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Seemed the thing to do at the time,”
“FUCK that, you fucking bastard!” Casey outright screamed. “You don’t… fucking DO that, Tyler!”
“I DID, didn’t I??” Zeke answered in a louder tone. It almost made Casey relent… almost.
“You’re such an asshole, Zeke. Such a goddamned punk,”
“Save it,” Zeke said.
“No wonder your parents took off on you, dumping some huge trust fund to shut you up and get the hell away from you.” Casey suddenly shot out with. It made Zeke’s eyes flash a moment, looking towards him.
“Wonder what your fucking dad would say if we sent him that little fucking diary of yours, huh?” Zeke retorted. If Casey had felt hellfire growing in his belly before, it was starting to seep through his pores and drown him in the heat.
“Fuck you.” He answered, his voice getting shaky again. It made Zeke cock an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth rising in amusement.
“He already thinks you’re a fucking faggot, he’d only find out with your own words, wouldn’t he?”
“FUCK YOU!!” Casey bellowed; oh fucking hell, he couldn’t hold back the sobs now. Gabe began chuckling loudly.
“Please Connor, go home before I bust my gut laughing,” he told him, leaning forward to support his laughter-wracked body.
“Shut up Gabe; let him leave with his dignity,” Zeke joked, turning back to his project. Casey’s chest heaved with the weight of their words, piling on him like stones. He felt dizzy and bewildered, not knowing WHY all these horrible events transpired. It made his face soften, wanting the weight to go away; the only person who could do that was the one who put it there.
“Why’d you do it, Zeke?” Casey asked, wishing his voice hadn’t sounded so pathetic.
“Go home, boy,”
“WHY??”
“Go home,”
No. No, he wasn’t going to go home. He was going to get answers; yea, that’s right, answers. Any way that he could. He didn’t know why, but he looked around the room as if something was there. As if some memory of this place could serve him up some sort of…
The glint of metal coming from the table end nearest to him made everything stop inside of him. It took him a moment to recognize it.
“It’s a gun, man,”
Casey’s eyes darted to Zeke, Gabe and the gun, Zeke, Gabe and the gun… over and over until finally he stepped forward. “Door’s that way, man,” Zeke muttered through holding his cigarette in his lips, glancing up to him. He looked away just as Casey picked up the weapon, peering at it curiously. Yea that was a gun, all right; smooth metal, meant for him. Just for him.
Gabe was first to notice this; he stood up quick, nodding his head up at him and frowning. “Hey. The fuck are you doing…?” he said gruffly. Casey looked back towards him; raising it slowly he extended his arm and pulled the muscles in it tight to aim it towards Zeke. “HEY!!” Gabe yelled.
Zeke looked up; no reaction. Casey swallowed and stared at him. “You fucking tell me why you did it.”
It was quiet in the room now; Zeke sighed and put his cigarette out in the coke bottle beside him. “If you honestly think…” Zeke began, breaking the silence between them all. “That you’re gonna be able to pull that trigger, you’re more stupid than I ever thought you were.”
“You’ve never thought I was stupid, Tyler,” Casey said. God this suddenly felt… good… even if his voice still cracked on his words. Zeke sucked his tongue a moment before turning the chair to face him completely.
“Casey… Delilah had shit crawling in her face. She was going to take us or kill us, and what’d you do?” Zeke said, his voice taunting. “Thaaat’s right, boy. You didn’t fucking shoot her. You’re not a gunslinger, and if you think I’m going to change my mind about that, you’re fucking wrong. What you are is an empty threat.”
Casey swallowed; he didn’t have to believe him. Why the fuck should he believe ANYONE? All everyone DID was lie to him. “You think I won’t.”
“No. I know you won’t.”
Casey nodded quickly. “Yea. Yea,” he muttered.
“Just put the fucking thing down, loser,” Gabe said. Casey’s eyes darted his way as he spoke. Before he could say anything more, Casey turned the gun on him. There were no thoughts or reasoning that entered in as Casey made no pause; simply pulled the trigger and smelled gunpowder.
It was fucking loud- so was the sound of Gabe’s body crashing into the shelf behind him, knocking down a few hundred glass vials that sat on it. He didn’t get up; he didn’t move. He didn’t do anything anymore.
And Casey… Casey realized he was the reason why.
And he didn’t falter. He simply turned the gun back on Zeke. Holy fuck, he shot Gabe. Yea, he fucking shot him. Casey Connor didn’t just shoot; he killed Gabe Santora… didn’t he? Perhaps he should have felt bad about that. He didn’t.
Zeke was the perfect picture of shock right now. He stared at Casey with a new, very pale face. Casey said nothing; he simply cocked the hammer and stared back at him, his eyes emoting enough to Zeke. “Because I wanted to,” Zeke said; it was his turn for a trembling voice now. Holy shit, Casey must have done something pretty impressive for him to…
Oh yea, he killed Gabe Santora. He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. “Wanted to what,” he said, barely whispering.
“Wanted to have you suck me off.” Zeke stated quickly. Casey nodded slowly.
“Okay.” He replied.
Zeke… was… not…in… control. Not anymore. It amused Casey to hear Denis Leary in his head now, making his speech from ‘The Ref’… “From now on, the only person who gets to yell is me. Why? Because I have a gun. People with guns get to do whatever they want.” He always loved that movie… he even chuckled in remembering it.
“Casey?”
Casey looked back at Zeke. “Hmm?”
“Can you just… put the gun down?”
Casey blinked. A smile crept over his lips. “No. Why?”
“Look…” Zeke said, standing up very slowly. Casey watched him carefully; there was no way he was getting this gun now. He loved the fucking thing now. “I know things are really fucked up, but I’ll tell you everything, okay? Just…. Can we… call someone, come and get… Gabe?”
“No. No, you’ll tell me everything, now,”
“Casey, c’mon…”
“He’s DEAD, Zeke. No fuckin; doctors need to help him, it’d be a waste of time,”
“How do you know, he might be…”
“He’s got a fucking hole in his head, and the blood is almost to my toes now,” Casey said. “Talk.”
Zeke’s chin shuddered. “Okay… okay,” he started. He seemed to go very quiet however, lost in words; Casey sneered at him, nodding.
“When you just said you… ‘wanted to’… you’d meant you wanted to. Didn’t you, Zeke?” Casey asked. Zeke simply nodded, fast. Casey smiled wider. “You DID put your arm around me that night, didn’t you?”
Zeke turned his head to the side, saying nothing. Oh, Casey had all his answers now. He let his free hand go to his jeans, unbuckling the belt. Zeke turned to see this, staring at Casey blankly. Casey made a wicked smile, pushing the denim and boxers down, letting his cock out in the open. He stared back at Zeke, eyes cold and devoid of Casey Connor, entirely. “You’re going to suck my dick or I shoot you in the head.”
Zeke looked back up at Casey’s face, then back down at his groin. Despite the smell of blood in the air, he saw the corner of Zeke’s mouth glistening. He let Zeke walk over to him, adjusting the position of the gun to make sure Zeke didn’t reach for it at any sudden moment. Casey knew however, through the hunger and rapture in Zeke’s eyes that everything was going to go just fine… just fine. Zeke was now kneeling before him and breathing in a low, deep breath before letting his mouth engulf Casey’s length, taking him in expertly so. Casey hissed through his nostrils, putting the gun to Zeke’s head, the barrel of it digging into his scalp.
He should have killed Gabe Santora a long time ago.