Unravelling Zeke - Casa Del Tyler (1/3)
Banner by aliensouldream
Title: Unravelling Zeke - Casa Del Tyler
Author: Gabi
Fandom: The Faculty
Pairing: Zeke Tyler/Casey Connor
Genre: Pre-slash
Rating: R (for language, mostly and Cannabis use)
Summary: Casey gets the tour.
Disclaimer: I own neither the rights nor the characters. If I did, Mr Tyler would be sporting a lovely new collar. I make no money. I have no money. Don’t sue me.
Thanks again to aliensouldream for beta.
Previous
Epiphany / Party & Boring / Plans
Casa Del Tyler
Casey expected Zeke to open the door with a broad sweeping gesture and Welcome him to Casa Del Tyler.
Casey was sorely disappointed.
Zeke unlocked the front door, stepped in and threw his keys in a glass bowl on a small, pale table in the hallway. “Shoes.” Casey was a little deflated. He shut the door behind him and kicked off his shoes, nudging them neatly next to Zeke’s. He chanced a quick glance around. The hall ran directly in front of him, the stairs ran parallel, on his right. The floor was light varnished wood, probably Maple. As were the stairs and banister. The walls were cream with three red abstracts on box canvasses down the left wall. There was a door on either side of him, one beneath the stairs and one down the end of the hall.
Zeke was standing in the left doorway watching Casey. He pushed the door open and nodded toward the dark space beyond. Casey took a few tentative steps forward as Zeke reached behind the wall and flicked the switch. Casey peered inside. “Jesus…” He scanned the room as Zeke walked past him. “You’ve got a NICE place.”
Zeke just shrugged. “S’ok.”
“Ok? This is HUGE!”
“Nah… Open plan. Just looks bigger.”
It had the same pale Maple floor that matched the furniture. Everything was neutral or grey with occasional splashes of red. It reminded him of a New York loft apartment he’d seen in one of his mom’s magazines. There was a padded grey leather couch with two red cushions. In front of it sat a glass coffee table on a large cream super-soft looking rug. On the coffee table lay… a book. “You can read?” He craned his neck to see what it was. “Holy shit! Terry Pratchett?” He dived over to pick it up. “Jingo!” He read the back cover blurb. “Aww… I haven’t read this one yet! I’ve read all but the last two.”
Zeke just walked over, took it off him and dumped it unceremoniously back on the table. He smiled at Casey and backed up towards the door, curling his finger to beckon him. They passed through the hall to the opposite door. Zeke flung it open and flicked the switch. Casey’s jaw fell open. “Oh… I just died…”
One long wall of the room was a giant bookcase. Zeke wandered over, scanned a shelf and pulled out a book. He offered it to Casey. “Damage it, I kill you. Enjoy.”
Casey lit up. “Hogfather... Fuck, Zeke! You’re AWESOME!”
“I know.”
Casey hugged his borrowed treasure and wandered over to the shelves. There were books on everything! He quickly spotted the pattern. Fiction had one section, alphabetised by author. Non-fiction was by subject. Natural history, world history, design, art movements, sciences - including about five different fields of physics. Cookery, accounting, mechanics, research & development, even a few on photography… everything! The base shelf was stacked with magazines and periodicals.
He slowly paced the shelves, running his finger along the books as he read the spines. Zeke leant against the doorframe and watched with his hands in his pockets. The whole thing was strangely …warming. “You don’t have books in your house?”
“Yeah… but not THIS many! God, there’s so many I wanna read.”
“One at a time, Case. Bring that back and grab another.”
Casey turned to face him. “Seriously?” It occurred to him how generous Zeke was. He always offered what he had and so far he hadn’t asked for anything in return. Either he, and the rest of the world, had a badly distorted view of Zeke or the catch was just around the corner. Casey preferred to put his faith in the former. He pointed to the opposite corner of the room with a deadpan expression. “You have a piano.”
“My mom has a piano.”
“Can you play it?”
“No!”
Casey grinned. “That was a very defensive ‘No!’ there Zekey-boy… you can play…”
Zeke had to laugh. “No… seriously… I can’t play the fucking thing for shit. My mom’s a freak. She read somewhere that ‘gifted children benefit from learning a musical instrument’. She bought a fucking piano! I was FIVE! I made damn sure I never played it right. She gave up in the end and bought a fucking violin instead. That lasted about ohh… two weeks before she confiscated it. Baaad noise!”
Casey laughed out loud, still clutching his book.
Zeke smiled and gestured to the door. “This way to the beer.”
Casey followed his host back through the living room when something caught his eye and he did a double-take. He picked a frame up off the cabinet. “How old were you when THIS was taken?”
Zeke cringed without turning. “Sixteen.”
“Sixteen? You look about twelve!”
Zeke finally turned, his hands still in his pockets. “You still do.”
Casey just pulled his tongue out and stared at the photo with a grin. “Oh my God! You’re so CUTE!”
“Did you intend to say that out loud?”
“But…” He held the photo up. “LOOK!” Zeke just chuckled and carried on to the kitchen. “Wow… You were legal with this face… That’s just…” He wanted to say wrong but he didn’t trust his brain not to override his mouth. Hot, Casey. It’s just fucking… hot!
The photo was waist up, taken on the steps of what looked like a log cabin. Zeke stood facing the camera in a bright blue t-shirt, with his mom stood on the step behind him. She had her chin on his shoulder and her arms draped round his chest in a hug as he held her wrist. They were laughing. His brown eyes shone with perfect catch-lights, all innocent and sparkling. The broad smile showed the gap in his teeth. He looked genuinely happy, without a care in the world. He looked fucking adorable!
“You should have seen the face I had when I was still jailbait.”
“See… now THAT’S wrong!”
“I’m not the one cooing over photos of sixteen year old boys.”
Casey put the photo down quickly but he couldn’t help getting one last look before joining Zeke in the kitchen. “You look so fucking angelic in that.”
“Makes it that much easier to be a devious little bastard.”
“I don’t doubt that for a second.”
“Right! Pay attention! This… is the kitchen.” It was one of those steel surface affairs with the sink overlooking the yard. There was no door, just a wide open entrance from the living room. A breakfast bar cut across to split it off from the dining room opposite. “This… is the snack cupboard. You will need this information later.” He opened the door to reveal a pile of sugary junk food and chips. “This… and this is important… contains the beer.” He opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles. Sliding open a drawer he grabbed a bottle opener and popped the lids. He handed one to Casey before gulping a large swig.
He motioned Casey to follow and walked through the dining area. Casey had already seen the big glass table and black high-back chairs from the kitchen but he followed anyway. Zeke waved around the room. “This bit is completely fucking pointless. It’s like the piano, ya know? Only gets touched when it’s being dusted.”
“You keep this place surprisingly clean.”
Zeke snorted. “Like fuck I do! That’s Rosie’s job.”
“You have a cleaner?”
“You think I’m keeping on top of this shit by myself? Fuck no! She’s great. Little dumpy Brazilian woman who comes in twice a week. Four foot in every dimension, pointing up at me, wagging her finger and ranting at me in Portuguese. It’s pretty funny.”
He reached the end door, opened it and flicked the light on. “Mom’s office.”
There was a computer on a desk, with an in-tray and stacks of papers. Two filing cabinets sat next to a shelving unit full of box folders. “What she do?”
Zeke thought about it for a second. “She’s kinda like… a freelance accountant… kinda. She goes all over the world, sorting companies finances out ‘n shit. She earns a fuck-ton. Just means I never see her.” He closed up and headed for the hall. “At least she’s bitching from a distance.”
When he reached the stairs he’d bounded up half before he realised Casey wasn’t following. He looked down to find a rather apprehensive, wide eyed boy at the bottom. “What? You’re drinking. Better I show you the bathroom now or risk you stumbling into my mom’s room. It’s a pink and treacherous place. You’ll have nightmares!”
“…Pink?” He finally ascended the stairs.
“Yeah… She’s such a girl… she’s like the poster child for Laura fuckin’ Ashley, ya know? Pink and …florals… and frills for fuck sake. I put my foot down when she decorates. I’m the one who has to live in it.”
“I can just see you in frills!” He laughed.
Zeke stopped and looked back. “PLEASE tell me you did NOT intend to say that out loud.”
Casey blushed furiously and giggled into his beer. “No…”
Zeke started laughing. “Don’t fuckin’ set me off again, man!” He reached the landing and pointed to the first door. “Mom’s room. To be avoided. I’m gonna paint a giant black cross on it!” He moved across the corridor. “My room… obviously.” It had a yellow biohazard sign nailed to it. And a padlock. Casey waited for him to open the door.
“No.”
“Not fair! You said a tour.”
“Tour does not mean Access All Areas.” He continued to the next door while Casey sulked behind him. “Music room. Actually it’s a spare, music room just sounds better.” He switched on the light to reveal a bastardised bedroom. Two fold away beds leant against the wall next to a small cupboard. A drum kit dominated one corner.
“You play drums?”
“Kinda…” He smirked, “Only tend to play ‘em when mom’s home.”
“Can you play that?” He pointed to a black electric guitar plugged into an amp.
“That I can play.” The light went out. “There’s another in the boat house.”
“Boat house?”
“You didn’t see the boats outside my lab last time? They got evicted.”
“Poor boats…”
“Actual spare room.” It was neat and cosy looking, like a hotel room.
“It’s bigger than my room…” he complained.
“Ouch…” Zeke took a swig of his beer. “Good job I didn’t show you mine…” He led Casey to the final door. “Bathroom. Do what you want, we don’t use it.”
“Let me guess, you’re ensuit.”
Zeke frowned just slightly. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
“Yeah but… this is bigger than my room!”
“So your house ain’t all that big. It has your family crammed in it. All this… one person… not all it’s cracked up to be. Now come on.” He left the door open so Casey could remember which it was and descended the stairs.
“Fuck!” Zeke stopped in his tracks and pointed at the cabinet with the frame on. “Pick a film, one you’ve seen. I’ll be back in a sec.” He ran back upstairs.
When he came back he found Casey cross legged with his head in the cabinet. “Found one?” A video popped into view. “True Romance… Good choice.”
Casey pulled himself out of the unit and watched Zeke empty his pockets onto the breakfast bar. He stuffed the notes back and sat down. “What ya doin’?”
“Rollin’”
Casey got up. “A joint?”
“Yup.”
Curiosity got the better of him. He joined Zeke and sat opposite to watch. He felt stupid asking. “What’s it like?”
Zeke paused and looked up. He passed over a small clear bag of what looked like dried spiky flower buds. “Sniff it.”
“No…”
“Not asking you to snort the fucking stuff… just smell it.”
Casey peered suspiciously into the bag before bringing it to his nose and inhaling gently. He furrowed his brow and inhaled again while Zeke observed with amusement. “That smells… that smells really nice.”
“Yes it does!”
“Can I try some?”
“Sure…”
Casey watched him roll some joints and tried not to stare when he licked the paper.
Zeke shooed him away into the kitchen. “Go grab more beer... And an ashtray… cupboard above you, left. That one. Cheers.” When Casey rejoined him he flicked his Zippo, lit the end and inhaled deeply. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes as he exhaled a long plume of smoke. Casey was transfixed by the smoke rolling past those soft pouting lips. It was torture. He wasn’t even sure he could ever handle kissing a guy but the incident at Zeke’s locker had really done a number on him. It was all he could think about.
He snapped out of it when Zeke offered it over with a gentle warning. “Don’t inhale too hard… you don’t smoke.”
“K…” He took it with trepidation, a little intimidated by it. Zeke’s had his lips round this… If you back up now you’ll look a pussy. A pussy in front of Zeke. Lips… Just do it!
He put it to his lips and sucked the smoke into his mouth. He breathed it back with a grimace and exhaled. Zeke just signalled him to go again. So fuck it, he did.
Zeke gathered his paraphernalia and they moved over to the couch. Casey sat in one corner as Zeke sorted the video and grabbed the remotes. When he sat down he put his feet up on the coffee table next to his tin and got comfy.
Part 2