LOG; emotions come i don't know why; LOCKE + TERENTI

[personalcrisis]

who; Locke & Terenti.
what; Gay gay homosexual gay.
when; This afternoon.

He regretted making himself so at home here now. It was difficult to find all the random things he had unpacked, and he was currently combing the apartment for the last of them. At least it was a useful way to distract himself.

Except it was failing spectacularly. He should have been home a week ago. In fact, he shouldn't have been here in the first place. None of his past idiotic spur-of-the-moment decisions had ended in such a disaster, but he supposed this was something like learning a lesson. Fine. Never again.

The part of him that wanted to stall could go to Hell.

Locke really, really hated the part of him that was an honest enough guy to go round to Einar's place and give Terenti his jacket back. It might have his wallet in the pocket or something; he hadn't checked. And the part of him that wanted to at least say goodbye before Terenti went back to Russia could fuck right off.

He was actually hoping Einar was there, and wasn't that a miracle. Terenti was just a moron for forgetting his jacket in the first place. Case closed.

Shifting a fraction from foot to foot, Locke knocked on the door.

He was stuffing several articles of clothing into a bag when he heard the knock. He paused; Einar wouldn't be home from work for a while, and they hadn't been expecting any visitors. The last one had been...

Well. It certainly wouldn't be him now.

"Come in," he called. It was probably someone with the wrong apartment number. Or perhaps a serial killer, but those were easily dealt with.

"The door is locked, retard," came Locke's voice through the closed door, sharp with annoyance. And nerves or something, but he could hope Terenti didn't figure that one out.

So it was him. He didn't know why he was surprised. He did have some dignity left that needed to be destroyed, after all.

He desperately wanted to pretend he had never heard the knock, but that was impossible now. And replying that no one was home at the moment really would be idiotic. He slowly walked across the room to unlock the door, and then moved away from it much more quickly.

Locke's expression hung awkwardly between angry, defensive, and get-me-out-of-here. He stepped inside reluctantly, and held out the jacket.

"You left this." Hopefully Terenti would just take the fucking thing and he could beat a retreat.

He knew he'd forgotten something, especially since he'd... left the restaurant so quickly. But it was way too bizarre that Locke was here returning it to him. He stared at him for a moment, as if trying to convince himself that it actually was him, then continued to pack.

"...Thank you," he eventually said, almost suspiciously. He didn't move back across the room to take it.

What the fuck, why wasn't he taking it? Locke wondered if just putting it down and backing away would work.

"...No problem."

Oh fine. He walked over and snatched it from him.

"Right then," he said, returning to his task and not looking at Locke. He hated that his irritation at the world in general was showing, but it was a bit late to put on the happy act now. "I suppose this is goodbye. Soon it will be quite easy for you to pretend that I don't exist." And he could try to do the same, even though he knew it to be a lost cause.

"Oh, yeah." Locke glared for a second, but he couldn't really look at Terenti either. It was lame, but that didn't change it. He wished he didn't feel like such an asshole about the whole thing, but he didn't want to think about it. "A piece of fucking cake." At least the sarcasm was loud and clear.

"I'm sure you'll manage," he said coldly. "Apparently there are people more than willing to help you." Not that he could really blame Locke for wanting to be in denial anymore. Denial had been a nice state to be in compared to this.

"I told you I'm not gay," Locke snapped. And well, didn't that sound nice and defensive. But it was true -- he still liked girls. As well.

What the fuck ever. He didn't have to think about it if he didn't want to.

"It's not my fucking problem if you're bitter or something."

He instinctively opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but stopped. It was true, wasn't it? He was sick of pretending. He was leaving now. He had plenty of people that didn't drive him up the wall in Russia, and this stupid infatuation or whatever the hell it was paled in comparison.

"Well you'll have to forgive me for being such a fucking idiot," he almost growled. He was angry, but most of it was directed at himself.

Locke really hoped Einar wasn't in the other room or anything.

"Whatever," he settled for saying, wondering why he'd been enough of a moron to get drawn into a conversation -- or an argument.

"You're a fountain of knowledge, as usual." This was going nowhere. Barely conscious of what he was saying, he added, "Though I suppose I should congratulate you. No one's made me lose my control like that before. Not even that horrible woman my father married. Now why do you suppose that is?" He stopped what he was doing, cursing himself.

Locke didn't want to "suppose", but it wasn't as though he could help himself from drawing conclusions. He really did want to back off and flee, then, but that was just as good as admitting he was a coward. He didn't want to turn out any more like his father.

"So you don't act like that every time a guy isn't interested?" he said, trying for more sarcasm but feeling the remark fall flat somehow. "I feel very fucking special."

He lifted his head and finally looked right at Locke, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Don't flatter yourself. Perhaps I'm just a bit annoyed that I spent twenty-two pathetic years ducking from any kiss thrown at me, and then some brat decided that my face looked like a nice target for his insecurities." Too much information. He couldn't seem to control what he was saying.

"You're joking." Locke couldn't seem to decide whether to sound cruel or just plain surprised. Whatever; it wasn't his problem. He pulled himself back together, his own scowl in place to hide the fact that he was actually hurt. A little. "It was just a fucking kiss -- get the fuck over it. There's saving yourself and then there's just being retarded." Okay, now he was talking too much as well.

He felt something snap; the remark had somehow hit on several of his own insecurities all at once.

"I don't need you tell me that," he snarled. Without even realizing what he was doing, he went across the room and hit him.

Well that was unexpected. And painful.

"--Fuck you!" It was mostly instinct that had Locke take a swing at Terenti in return after he'd taken a second to recover from the whole fist to the jaw thing.

He immediately felt a surge of guilt, but he found that it was quickly pushed aside when Locke punched him in return. Ow. Even if he had been expecting that.

"You can't tell me that hurt." He grabbed Locke's shirt and shoved him up against the nearest wall, though he was somehow careful not to use too much force. He only wanted him dead in a figurative sense. "Men like me don't have any masculinity, remember?"

More unexpected. Terenti had never seemed the violent type, and Locke wasn't sure how far he'd snapped. He tried to shove Terenti off, every alarm bell in his head jangling.

"You're acting like a jealous girl," he spat.

"Shut the hell up." Locke didn't have to tell him. He tightened his grip and shoved him back a little more. "I am jealous. That's the hilarious part. I know I'm a fucking moron, and I don't have to hear it from you." Oh, how far he had truly fallen. Well, why not. He'd already humiliated himself beyond redemption. What did he have to lose.

It was easier to pin someone than throw them off. It wasn't that Terenti outmatched him. Still, it pissed him off. Enough that he lost whatever verbal caution he was clinging to.

"That was half the fucking point." Even though he couldn't blame being drunk, he figured there had to be some mitigating reason as to why half a second later he kissed Terenti for the second time.

Just a fluke, right.

...What. No no no, it wasn't that easy. No one had ever made him act like this before, and it made him angry. Yes, he was infuriated beyond all reason, even, and he had a will of iron, and he--

--he was kissing back. Okay.

Locke ignored the immediate and pressing desire to panic, especially when Terenti actually responded. That meant he got to think far less; definitely a plus. Just a fluke. A fluke that was going back to Russia in the next day or so, and so there wouldn't ever have to be a third time.

Oh how he wished he still thought of this whole thing as a fluke. It had been so much easier to think of it as that, because anything else was just confusing. But thinking was overrated, at least at that point in time. He even ignored it in favour of the other aspects of the situation.

He was already cheating on his sort of girlfriend -- anything more than some random and totally unwanted attraction was out of the question. Locke also figured that as soon as they stopped he'd have to figure out what the fuck to do next, and so it seemed like an excellent plan not to stop at all.

It was a lucky thing that Terenti couldn't read minds. He was too busy keeping his brain shut off, anyway.

He forced himself to pull away a little while later, although not without a healthy dose of regret. Said regret was half because he also had no idea what to do next, and half because... well, he didn't want to. He had enough spine to admit that now, right? Right.

"Fuck," said Locke, in the same tone he'd used last time. His expression was pretty identical too. One of his hands remained clenched around Terenti's arm. So, the thing he'd wanted desperately to avoid had happened. Of course if he was honest with himself then perhaps he hadn't wanted overmuch to avoid it... but still.

"Uh. That was..." It was what? Unexpected? Nice? Would do it again sometime? The utter ridiculousness of the entire situation was starting to dawn on him. He'd acted so...

Well then. He should probably move, he thought, but he stayed where he was.

Locke forced himself to let go, and pushed at Terenti to try and get him off; the effort wasn't that strong because touching him meant... well.

"Feel any fucking better now?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

As dense as he could be, Terenti could occasionally take a hint. He backed up enough so that he wasn't effectively pinning Locke against the wall.

"You did that to make me feel better?" Not the best thing to say, but being awkward hadn't improved things in the past. His disbelief showed in his tone, although he wasn't exactly being accusatory. It wasn't like he knew why Locke had kissed him, especially since he had struck him moments before.

"No." He tried to snap, but ended up sounding... well, like a freaked out teenager. God, like he was a nice enough guy to do that. No, he'd kissed Terenti because he'd wanted to, and that was far worse, in his opinion.

He'd been expecting Locke to snap at him, honestly, and when it didn't happen he found himself surprised yet again. Then he felt something strange that could have been sympathy. Perhaps. Even if Locke was a brat. And he was still pissed off about that, not to mention frustrated. It was a completely foreign sensation, at any rate, but he seemed to be experiencing that a lot lately.

"Look, it's not a bad thing." He coughed. "You know." Like he even knew what he was trying to get at.

"I don't need the gay pep talk, thanks," said Locke, and the bite was back in his tone again. He ran his hands through his hair for a second, at a loss. He hadn't expected Terenti to be particularly nice, either; at least he would have known how to react to more conflict.

Oh, that was mature. He rolled his eyes.

"I believe I've said this before, but I really don't understand you." Wait, he was trying to be a decent person. "But then I guess I don't get myself, either, so."

"Something else we have in common," said Locke sarcastically, his gaze straying to the door. Running away started to sound really great, cowardice or not.

Locke was making this really, really, difficult.

"Hey." Too difficult, apparently, and the fact that Terenti noticed that he was looking at the door didn't help. It hurt that Locke wanted to run away from him. Kind of. Argh. "I'm trying to be... fine, you know what, leave if you really can't handle it. But next time, be careful who you drag into your problems. Some of us are idiots and get too involved."

"That wasn't --" Locke snarled miserably, eyes still on the door. His shoulders set tensely. "I didn't say I wanted to leave, moron." Only he did, right? ...Fuck, saying that gave way too much away, if that even mattered after he'd kissed Terenti again. "And I didn't drag you into anything."

He hid the fact that he was relieved. He was being more honest than usual -- against his will -- but he still had limits.

"You kissed me. Both times, actually, but then I guess I went willingly enough, didn't I? Both times. Jesus Christ, this is retarded." He stopped and frowned. "And now I'm talking like you."

At least he was going back to Russia. That thought... had lost most of its comfort.

Locke didn't want to be reminded.

"Fuck, you think so?" he muttered, sarcastic again, then after a pause added, "You could have stopped me." There was something like genuine curiosity there.

Terenti was impressed. He wasn't usually the one who wanted to bash his head against the wall when he was in conversation with someone.

"God, you don't get it, do you. I could have stopped you, but I didn't because I didn't want to. Because I liked it or something. There." He scowled, but it wasn't directed at Locke.

"I know that." Locke mustered enough exasperation to roll his eyes. He wanted to know why Terenti hadn't wanted to, but a second later he figured out that those questions led to madness. Trying to change the subject was pretty stupid and also likely impossible, but he did it anyway. "So uh... you're going back to Russia."

Oh no, there wasn't enough alcohol or word vomit in the world to get him to voice that other terrifying notion. It was bad enough that he couldn't deny it to himself. He was fine with a subject change, personally.

"So I am." Right, he had been working on that before this episode had occurred. "Aren't you the lucky one."

Okay, so the passive-aggressive self-pity was annoying, even if it made Locke a hypocrite.

"I already said I don't want you to go," he snapped. Well, maybe not in those words, but he'd assumed Terenti wasn't stupid.

It was just a day for honesty, it seemed.

Unfortunately, Terenti was quite stupid indeed.

"No you didn't--" he started, immediately defensive. Then he just stared in bewilderment. "...You don't?"

"I wouldn't be so fucking bothered if I did." Locke kicked back at the wall, not too hard. How did he get himself into this situation anyway? "Whatever."

That did make sense, now that he was actually using his brain, but there was something different about Locke saying it outright like that. Even if it was unexpected and vaguely alarming.

"Well." He was going to regret this. "I guess... uh, I don't have to. Not right away, I mean. I can stay for a little while longer, I suppose." There were several reasons why that was a bad decision logically, but he really didn't want to go yet, as much as it pained him to admit it. Even if Russia was his home and Los Angeles was full of insanity. The insanity was kind of endearing, in a way, if he got past the endless frustration and embarrassment.

"...Right." Locke looked uncertain. "Uh, sure." He hadn't meant for Terenti to say something like that... probably. Okay. So. At least he wasn't looking at the door anymore.

"God, I must be out of my mind." He really, really had to be. "But, okay, even if you confuse the hell out of me, you're still the reason I came here, so far be it from me to leave if you don't want me to." The attempt at humour seemed out of place. "And, fine, since we're being so honest with each other, I want to stay."

This whole trip hadn't gone at all like he'd planned, and the recent developments made him particularly nervous, but leaving it all behind felt disappointing somehow. Wasted opportunity or something along the lines. At any rate, he didn't have much left to lose.

Locke still didn't know what to do. He shrugged awkwardly.

"Okay." Fuck, everything was retarded. He felt pleased that Terenti wasn't going to go back to Russia and possibly never return, but he still wasn't precisely comfortable with the fact that the idea of him leaving was so undesirable.

"Very enthusiastic," he commented, but it wasn't biting. He could feel his mood slowly shifting back to normal. Or as normal as he got, anyway. "Don't talk so much. I'd like to get a word in every now and then."

There were still little issues that needed to be addressed, but he could unwisely push them aside for later. He'd had enough excitement for one day.

Little issues like oh, say, Ann. But that wasn't important, Locke told himself. It was a fluke, or even if it wasn't, it wouldn't happen again, so--

Lying to himself that much was tiring.

"You'd be pissed if I did start talking more," he said after a moment. "Saying too fucking much is your schtick."

"I wouldn't mind, actually, but if I'm really that bad then perhaps I should be shut up." And the accidental implications there gave him an idea. An idea he told himself was a horrible impulse that shouldn't be given into, but he was going to anyway because he was an idiot. So much for learning lessons and that previous desire for no more excitement. "I'll do it myself."

That wall was oddly convenient, he thought to himself as he leaned forward again and kissed Locke. This lapse in judgement would likely result in him being whacked for the second time, but hey, he wanted to be the aggressor for once. And he was an idiot, after all.

Locke froze up for a moment, then gave in to the sheer stupid wtfery of the whole situation and kissed back. That didn't mean, however, he was comfortable in the slightest with being the one backed up against the wall, and so he channelled the energy that by rights should have gone into freaking out, and instead grabbed Terenti's shirt and shoved him so that he was the one getting walled. Much better.

Seriously, what the fuck was he doing.

So much for being the example of aggression. He made a muffled noise of surprise and would-be anguish at the loss of dominance, but quickly discovered that being walled wasn't too bad.

In fact, there were much worse things, though he couldn't be bothered to think of them.