Sept
Title: Things We Said Today (Pt. 7)
Pairing: C/Z, C/other (forgot that bit...lol)
Rating: R for language
Synopsis: Words can bite you in the ass
By the time Zeke woke the next morning, the sun was high over the buildings outside Zeke’s window. He couldn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep, seeing as he’d tossed and turned for a few hours instead of passing out like he thought he would. As his eyes opened, he remembered why he’d been so nerved up.
Zeke managed to pull his body out of bed and head for the door when he heard noises outside; Casey was up already, it seemed. Stepping out of the bedroom, Zeke had to smile. Casey was hunched over the album Zeke had been looking at when he’d unpacked, a box of Saltines next to him. Casey was taking them three at a time, shoving them in his mouth as he flipped pages. “You’re gonna choke,” Zeke said; Casey’s eyes darted up to find him, teeth crunching away.
“Ohr…” he mumbled through the huge mouthful. He chewed a moment then began swallowing, looking back to the book. “I’m sorry, I was really hungry. I’ll buy you a new box of crackers,”
“I think I’ll survive, Case,” Zeke said, smiling wide. That’s when he noticed the two emptied paper sleeves on the table. “Christ… that hungry, huh?” he laughed out, poking the crinkly wrappers. Looking back to Casey, he saw a shamed expression, a slow swallow and wipe of the lips.
“Sorry… I’ll buy you another box,”
“I’m joking Casey- eat it all if you want, I really don’t mind.” Zeke said, hoping that Casey honestly saw no harm in what he’d done. Zeke sat down and grabbed his cigarettes off the table; he noticed they felt a bit lighter. “Damn… thought this was half full,” he remarked, finding only four inside the box.
“I had a few of those too,” Casey admitted. Now Zeke laughed aloud.
“When did YOU start smoking? ‘Seems only yesterday you were yelling at ME to quit,” Zeke teased, surprised to see a tiny smile on Casey’s face. He even blushed a little.
“I’ll buy you another pack…”
“Casey, stop telling me you’re gonna ‘buy things’ for me. I’m FINE,” Zeke said, rolling his eyes and chuckling as he lit up. He looked over as he exhaled, nodding to the book. “I see you found my album,”
Casey nodded slowly, smiling and putting a hand over the glossy cellophane. “They came out pretty good, I’ve always liked these pictures,”
“Liar. I’m the worst when it comes to cameras. That’s your department,”
“Mmm,” Casey murmured with another nod. Zeke puffed away a moment, staring at the orange glow at the end of his cigarette.
“Wondered if I’d get to finding you or not- seems you found me,” he said.
“Yea,” Casey quietly replied. “I’d called your number… back home. Said it’d been disconnected and no more info left,”
Zeke nodded. “So you called Stan,”
“Yea,”
“Yea,” Zeke muttered, sucking in another drag. God, this was twisting in his gut like a knife. He didn’t want to pry, but god dammit… “You called a few months ago, too. I was worried.”
“Yea.”
Casey’s lack of explanations were grating on Zeke now. “So… what’s been going on?”
Casey shrugged, staring into the album, his body still. “Not much… just… things haven’t been working out that great is all,”
“How so?” Zeke asked. Looking to Casey he saw a slight shift in his posture, going a tiny bit lower over the book. It was almost unnoticeable; if Zeke hadn’t been paying attention, he wouldn’t have caught it.
“Just… y’now, disagreements, things like that.”
“Did you guys break up?”
“Pretty much. I dunno. We just needed a break.”
“Tell me about this guy.” Zeke asked. Casey glanced up from the book, a hint of a smile on his face.
“Can I have a cigarette?” he asked. Zeke sighed and handed him the pack; in seeing Casey grab one and light it, Zeke seemed to enter “The Twilight Zone”; the good midwestern boy, smoking up, looking hassled and ragged in ratty jeans and a t-shirt. Casey Connor… he guessed, anyways.
“So- how long have you been seeing this guy?”
Casey put the album on the table and leaned back; he put the cigarette to his lips and sucked, leaving Zeke waiting for an answer. Goddamn, this was so fucking strange. “About a year and a half…he’s a stock broker. He used to work for his dad’s law firm but quit. He was more business minded, things like that. He’s damn good at it too,”
“What’s his name?”
“Jon,” Casey answered, inspecting his nails. At least he still bit them to the bone; THAT remained the same. In fact, he was starting to gnaw on one as he continued speaking. “Met him just walking around this art gallery on 13th that was doing a big photography exhibit. That’s one of his hobbies too; never thought I’d have gotten into a guy like him, y’now?” Casey said with a small chuckle, leaning forward then sinking back again. “But he was good at photography too; we’d go out for whole days, taking pictures together and stuff.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Yea,”
“So why are you here then…?” Zeke asked tentatively. Casey took the thumbnail he chewed on from his mouth now, sighing deeply.
“There’re just things I don’t get, I guess. He’s older… I can be pretty immature and stuff. He can’t stand it,” Casey replied. Zeke narrowed his eyes, cocking his head to the side.
“How old is this guy?”
“Thirty-seven,”
Zeke’s eyes widened. “Jesus. You were practically jail bait when you guys met up…”
Casey looked to Zeke in the corners of his eyes, shrugging again. “Could say,” he replied softly.
“Well… not your fault, Case. He wants to be into younger guys, he’s gotta kinda know what he’s getting into.” Zeke told him. “What was the deal a few months ago, though? Was that another breakup or something?”
Casey sighed out with a groan, moving to stand. “I can be immature Zeke, that’s all,” he answered.
“Where’d you go?” Zeke asked. Casey walked slowly into the kitchen; Zeke heard the fridge open and Casey taking something out.
“Hmm?”
“I assume he’d kicked you out.” Zeke blurted. The fridge door closed, something getting poured into a glass. Casey wasn’t answering him. Zeke stood up, walking over to the kitchen doorway and standing there, watching Casey sip a glass of juice. “Did he?”
Casey took the glass from his lips and looked to Zeke. “I’m really hungry. Any way we can go out to breakfast?”
Zeke had his answer, and didn’t feel like acknowledging it. He didn’t want to know how or what Casey went through those few months ago… perhaps what he’d gone through before getting to Zeke this time. “Yea, sure. My treat,”
“I have a few bucks, Zeke…”
“My treat, Casey,” Zeke repeated.
The box of crackers back at the apartment must’ve not done much for Casey, seeing as he was now chowing heartily on a plate of pancakes, sausage and eggs at the diner they’d gotten to, faster than Zeke had ever seen him eat. Zeke had to chuckle at one point when Casey grimaced, having obviously tried swallowing too much at one time. Casey looked up from his glass of milk as he glugged it down. “Wha?” he mumbled, giving a punch to his chest. Zeke shook his head.
“Slow down. The meat on your plate is dead, it ain’t going anywhere.” Zeke joked. Casey blushed slightly.
“Sorry,”
“Hah, don’t apologize to me… it’s your stomach I’m worried about,” Zeke answered, opening a few packets of sugar for his coffee. “So… what do you think you’re gonna do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well… I know you dropped school. I’d found out when I called your parents before moving out here,” Zeke said, looking through the top of his eyes at Casey as he mixed his coffee around. Casey looked down at his plate, now just moving the eggs around with his fork.
“Well, I guess I wasn’t cut out for what they wanted me to do.” Casey said, bitterness in his voice. “I was so fucking tempted to drop the classes my first semester and re-register under the arts programs. The minute I’d of done that, the ‘rents would have locked up the bank account and money in general.”
“I’ll be willing to bet you’d get lots of scholarships though. Maybe you should consider going back,” Zeke told him. He looked to Casey again as he sipped his coffee, surprised; Casey looked downright angry now, looking to Zeke with narrow eyes.
“I HAD scholarships for the fucking math. If I reapply for arts, photography, whatever… I wouldn’t get them. It was all academic crap.” Casey told him, looking away and shaking his head. “I’m just fucked Zeke, that’s it.”
“Whoa, hold up,” Zeke said, putting the coffee down. “You were the photographer for the school paper from your freshman year to the end; I highly doubt that would go unnoticed. Your shit is good Casey, don’t fucking give up like that,”
“Well I’m a good photographer, great. Even if I DID get a few scholarships, ya really think I’ve got the REST of the money to get through school?” Casey lamented. Zeke sighed as Casey kept shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You should convince your parents somehow then. Tell them…”
“What? Tell them what?” Casey said, his voice growing in volume. He leaned into the table with a sarcastic smile. “They don’t fucking want to talk to me anymore, not since I did what I wanted to do.”
“What did you want to do, Casey?” Zeke asked, going back to his toast. Casey looked lost for answers for a few moments, his face softening slightly as he stared into the rug of the aisle next to them. He let out a puff of breath.
“Zeke, you were lucky, all right? Fucking lucky; you got to screw off, make mistakes and just be yourself. I had to be the good boy who followed every direction given to me by the letter, and if I fucked up it was the end of the world,” Casey said, his lower lip shaking a bit. “I was the model student, A’s in all my classes, little photo nerd that everyone beat on but DAMN, could I get good grades and show them all later, right? Be the big head honcho of some college math department or something. That’s what my parents wanted. So I dropped out and let myself just relax, not fucking worry. I’m sick of worrying… maybe I wanted someone to take care of ME for once, instead of having to be on pins and needles wondering if I was getting everything right.”
Zeke had stayed very quiet throughout Casey’s fast paced blathering, having to bite his lip until Casey finished. “Lucky, Case?”
“Yea. Lucky,” Casey said, uncrossing his arms to grab up his milk. Zeke smiled wryly, shaking his head slowly.
“Guess yer right, Casey. I was a lucky son of a bitch.” Zeke began; damn, his hands were shaking so hard from wanting to reach over the table to throttle Casey, but words would suffice for now. “I got to make my own meals, wash all my own clothes, pay taxes and fuck, a fucking mortgage at what, age sixteen? Yea, that was the shit man, total fun. But hey, I had detailed directions on how to do it, postmarked from whatever European country my mom happened to be in at the time.”
Casey’s lips parted slightly, looking back to Zeke. “Zeke…”
“Those were the fucking days; fucking off every chance I took because I could, because no one would tell me to do otherwise.” Zeke said; he was sick of being sarcastic, his throat tensing as he leaned over the table, hoping he looked as imposing as he felt. He must have as Casey shrank back, eyes wider as Zeke went on. “Do you even know how hard it was to get where I am now? Fuck, Casey- just because I wasn’t at some four-year university it doesn’t mean I didn’t bust my ASS, day in, day out just to get myself the top position out of the WHOLE fucking school. I did it because that was the only way for me to be here right now, sitting in a fucking New York restaurant listening to you whine about life’s troubles when maybe YOU should consider how good you had it.”
Casey’s teeth clenched at Zeke’s final words; Zeke leaned back and sipped his coffee, staring Casey down. It was quiet for a bit as Zeke finished his breakfast, finally looking away to let his anger slide off.
“I’m sorry,” Casey finally said, barely breaking the silence in his whispered words. Zeke nodded slowly, still not looking up.
“Watch what you say to people, Casey. Words can bite you in the ass like you wouldn’t believe,”
“I know,” Casey replied, nodding back.
Pairing: C/Z, C/other (forgot that bit...lol)
Rating: R for language
Synopsis: Words can bite you in the ass
By the time Zeke woke the next morning, the sun was high over the buildings outside Zeke’s window. He couldn’t remember when he’d fallen asleep, seeing as he’d tossed and turned for a few hours instead of passing out like he thought he would. As his eyes opened, he remembered why he’d been so nerved up.
Zeke managed to pull his body out of bed and head for the door when he heard noises outside; Casey was up already, it seemed. Stepping out of the bedroom, Zeke had to smile. Casey was hunched over the album Zeke had been looking at when he’d unpacked, a box of Saltines next to him. Casey was taking them three at a time, shoving them in his mouth as he flipped pages. “You’re gonna choke,” Zeke said; Casey’s eyes darted up to find him, teeth crunching away.
“Ohr…” he mumbled through the huge mouthful. He chewed a moment then began swallowing, looking back to the book. “I’m sorry, I was really hungry. I’ll buy you a new box of crackers,”
“I think I’ll survive, Case,” Zeke said, smiling wide. That’s when he noticed the two emptied paper sleeves on the table. “Christ… that hungry, huh?” he laughed out, poking the crinkly wrappers. Looking back to Casey, he saw a shamed expression, a slow swallow and wipe of the lips.
“Sorry… I’ll buy you another box,”
“I’m joking Casey- eat it all if you want, I really don’t mind.” Zeke said, hoping that Casey honestly saw no harm in what he’d done. Zeke sat down and grabbed his cigarettes off the table; he noticed they felt a bit lighter. “Damn… thought this was half full,” he remarked, finding only four inside the box.
“I had a few of those too,” Casey admitted. Now Zeke laughed aloud.
“When did YOU start smoking? ‘Seems only yesterday you were yelling at ME to quit,” Zeke teased, surprised to see a tiny smile on Casey’s face. He even blushed a little.
“I’ll buy you another pack…”
“Casey, stop telling me you’re gonna ‘buy things’ for me. I’m FINE,” Zeke said, rolling his eyes and chuckling as he lit up. He looked over as he exhaled, nodding to the book. “I see you found my album,”
Casey nodded slowly, smiling and putting a hand over the glossy cellophane. “They came out pretty good, I’ve always liked these pictures,”
“Liar. I’m the worst when it comes to cameras. That’s your department,”
“Mmm,” Casey murmured with another nod. Zeke puffed away a moment, staring at the orange glow at the end of his cigarette.
“Wondered if I’d get to finding you or not- seems you found me,” he said.
“Yea,” Casey quietly replied. “I’d called your number… back home. Said it’d been disconnected and no more info left,”
Zeke nodded. “So you called Stan,”
“Yea,”
“Yea,” Zeke muttered, sucking in another drag. God, this was twisting in his gut like a knife. He didn’t want to pry, but god dammit… “You called a few months ago, too. I was worried.”
“Yea.”
Casey’s lack of explanations were grating on Zeke now. “So… what’s been going on?”
Casey shrugged, staring into the album, his body still. “Not much… just… things haven’t been working out that great is all,”
“How so?” Zeke asked. Looking to Casey he saw a slight shift in his posture, going a tiny bit lower over the book. It was almost unnoticeable; if Zeke hadn’t been paying attention, he wouldn’t have caught it.
“Just… y’now, disagreements, things like that.”
“Did you guys break up?”
“Pretty much. I dunno. We just needed a break.”
“Tell me about this guy.” Zeke asked. Casey glanced up from the book, a hint of a smile on his face.
“Can I have a cigarette?” he asked. Zeke sighed and handed him the pack; in seeing Casey grab one and light it, Zeke seemed to enter “The Twilight Zone”; the good midwestern boy, smoking up, looking hassled and ragged in ratty jeans and a t-shirt. Casey Connor… he guessed, anyways.
“So- how long have you been seeing this guy?”
Casey put the album on the table and leaned back; he put the cigarette to his lips and sucked, leaving Zeke waiting for an answer. Goddamn, this was so fucking strange. “About a year and a half…he’s a stock broker. He used to work for his dad’s law firm but quit. He was more business minded, things like that. He’s damn good at it too,”
“What’s his name?”
“Jon,” Casey answered, inspecting his nails. At least he still bit them to the bone; THAT remained the same. In fact, he was starting to gnaw on one as he continued speaking. “Met him just walking around this art gallery on 13th that was doing a big photography exhibit. That’s one of his hobbies too; never thought I’d have gotten into a guy like him, y’now?” Casey said with a small chuckle, leaning forward then sinking back again. “But he was good at photography too; we’d go out for whole days, taking pictures together and stuff.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Yea,”
“So why are you here then…?” Zeke asked tentatively. Casey took the thumbnail he chewed on from his mouth now, sighing deeply.
“There’re just things I don’t get, I guess. He’s older… I can be pretty immature and stuff. He can’t stand it,” Casey replied. Zeke narrowed his eyes, cocking his head to the side.
“How old is this guy?”
“Thirty-seven,”
Zeke’s eyes widened. “Jesus. You were practically jail bait when you guys met up…”
Casey looked to Zeke in the corners of his eyes, shrugging again. “Could say,” he replied softly.
“Well… not your fault, Case. He wants to be into younger guys, he’s gotta kinda know what he’s getting into.” Zeke told him. “What was the deal a few months ago, though? Was that another breakup or something?”
Casey sighed out with a groan, moving to stand. “I can be immature Zeke, that’s all,” he answered.
“Where’d you go?” Zeke asked. Casey walked slowly into the kitchen; Zeke heard the fridge open and Casey taking something out.
“Hmm?”
“I assume he’d kicked you out.” Zeke blurted. The fridge door closed, something getting poured into a glass. Casey wasn’t answering him. Zeke stood up, walking over to the kitchen doorway and standing there, watching Casey sip a glass of juice. “Did he?”
Casey took the glass from his lips and looked to Zeke. “I’m really hungry. Any way we can go out to breakfast?”
Zeke had his answer, and didn’t feel like acknowledging it. He didn’t want to know how or what Casey went through those few months ago… perhaps what he’d gone through before getting to Zeke this time. “Yea, sure. My treat,”
“I have a few bucks, Zeke…”
“My treat, Casey,” Zeke repeated.
The box of crackers back at the apartment must’ve not done much for Casey, seeing as he was now chowing heartily on a plate of pancakes, sausage and eggs at the diner they’d gotten to, faster than Zeke had ever seen him eat. Zeke had to chuckle at one point when Casey grimaced, having obviously tried swallowing too much at one time. Casey looked up from his glass of milk as he glugged it down. “Wha?” he mumbled, giving a punch to his chest. Zeke shook his head.
“Slow down. The meat on your plate is dead, it ain’t going anywhere.” Zeke joked. Casey blushed slightly.
“Sorry,”
“Hah, don’t apologize to me… it’s your stomach I’m worried about,” Zeke answered, opening a few packets of sugar for his coffee. “So… what do you think you’re gonna do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well… I know you dropped school. I’d found out when I called your parents before moving out here,” Zeke said, looking through the top of his eyes at Casey as he mixed his coffee around. Casey looked down at his plate, now just moving the eggs around with his fork.
“Well, I guess I wasn’t cut out for what they wanted me to do.” Casey said, bitterness in his voice. “I was so fucking tempted to drop the classes my first semester and re-register under the arts programs. The minute I’d of done that, the ‘rents would have locked up the bank account and money in general.”
“I’ll be willing to bet you’d get lots of scholarships though. Maybe you should consider going back,” Zeke told him. He looked to Casey again as he sipped his coffee, surprised; Casey looked downright angry now, looking to Zeke with narrow eyes.
“I HAD scholarships for the fucking math. If I reapply for arts, photography, whatever… I wouldn’t get them. It was all academic crap.” Casey told him, looking away and shaking his head. “I’m just fucked Zeke, that’s it.”
“Whoa, hold up,” Zeke said, putting the coffee down. “You were the photographer for the school paper from your freshman year to the end; I highly doubt that would go unnoticed. Your shit is good Casey, don’t fucking give up like that,”
“Well I’m a good photographer, great. Even if I DID get a few scholarships, ya really think I’ve got the REST of the money to get through school?” Casey lamented. Zeke sighed as Casey kept shaking his head, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You should convince your parents somehow then. Tell them…”
“What? Tell them what?” Casey said, his voice growing in volume. He leaned into the table with a sarcastic smile. “They don’t fucking want to talk to me anymore, not since I did what I wanted to do.”
“What did you want to do, Casey?” Zeke asked, going back to his toast. Casey looked lost for answers for a few moments, his face softening slightly as he stared into the rug of the aisle next to them. He let out a puff of breath.
“Zeke, you were lucky, all right? Fucking lucky; you got to screw off, make mistakes and just be yourself. I had to be the good boy who followed every direction given to me by the letter, and if I fucked up it was the end of the world,” Casey said, his lower lip shaking a bit. “I was the model student, A’s in all my classes, little photo nerd that everyone beat on but DAMN, could I get good grades and show them all later, right? Be the big head honcho of some college math department or something. That’s what my parents wanted. So I dropped out and let myself just relax, not fucking worry. I’m sick of worrying… maybe I wanted someone to take care of ME for once, instead of having to be on pins and needles wondering if I was getting everything right.”
Zeke had stayed very quiet throughout Casey’s fast paced blathering, having to bite his lip until Casey finished. “Lucky, Case?”
“Yea. Lucky,” Casey said, uncrossing his arms to grab up his milk. Zeke smiled wryly, shaking his head slowly.
“Guess yer right, Casey. I was a lucky son of a bitch.” Zeke began; damn, his hands were shaking so hard from wanting to reach over the table to throttle Casey, but words would suffice for now. “I got to make my own meals, wash all my own clothes, pay taxes and fuck, a fucking mortgage at what, age sixteen? Yea, that was the shit man, total fun. But hey, I had detailed directions on how to do it, postmarked from whatever European country my mom happened to be in at the time.”
Casey’s lips parted slightly, looking back to Zeke. “Zeke…”
“Those were the fucking days; fucking off every chance I took because I could, because no one would tell me to do otherwise.” Zeke said; he was sick of being sarcastic, his throat tensing as he leaned over the table, hoping he looked as imposing as he felt. He must have as Casey shrank back, eyes wider as Zeke went on. “Do you even know how hard it was to get where I am now? Fuck, Casey- just because I wasn’t at some four-year university it doesn’t mean I didn’t bust my ASS, day in, day out just to get myself the top position out of the WHOLE fucking school. I did it because that was the only way for me to be here right now, sitting in a fucking New York restaurant listening to you whine about life’s troubles when maybe YOU should consider how good you had it.”
Casey’s teeth clenched at Zeke’s final words; Zeke leaned back and sipped his coffee, staring Casey down. It was quiet for a bit as Zeke finished his breakfast, finally looking away to let his anger slide off.
“I’m sorry,” Casey finally said, barely breaking the silence in his whispered words. Zeke nodded slowly, still not looking up.
“Watch what you say to people, Casey. Words can bite you in the ass like you wouldn’t believe,”
“I know,” Casey replied, nodding back.