Huzzah! I am back!
Huzzah, I am return-ed (I still don't know how to make the little arch over the e, am dopey). Washington is gorgeous, but more on that later.
Here we have the next installment in the series of PRSW22 that I have decided to call Roundabout. Yeah, subtle ain't my strong suit. Enjoy!
Caught
Disclaimer - These boys are not mine. If they were this would be cannon.
#9 - hallways
R.J. is not entirely sure how he came to be locked in his own hall closet.
Well, actually he’s pretty clear on that part. He distinctly remembers following Lily down the hall with Fran behind him, both of them babbling about a spider that was “as long as your forearm, and I think it must be Dai Shi’s new monster R.J., seriously, spiders just do not grow this big on their own.”
He has a crystal sharp memory of Lily stopping outside of, and opening the closet, of his own momentary confusion, and of Fran’s hands, small, and narrow, and surprisingly strong, against the middle of his back as he was unceremoniously shoved into said closet. He also clearly remembers how loud the lock sounded when it clicked into place.
The only thing he’s fuzzy on is the why. Which is the exact question he’s contemplating when the sound of muffled voices reach his ears. He hears Lily and Fran’s high pitches and a lower timbre that he can’t quite make out whether it’s Casey or Theo.
R.J. is not an imbecile, and he is not blind, (many apologies to Master Swoop). He’s noticed Lily and Fran heads together, studying him in the pizza parlor, in the loft, and quickly averting their eyes when he glanced their way. He’d hoped it was something, anything other than this, and with a fierce, (if sudden), devotion he prays to whatever powers of light there are in the universe that it’s Theo the two girls are leading down the hallway to be Shanghaied.
His hopes die a quick but painful death when the closet door is flung open, and he meets Casey’s confused brown eyes. Right before Lily shoves him from behind, (huh, they must have switched places), and straight into R.J.
The door slams closed. As R.J. struggles to keep his feet, (there’s not enough room in here to fall down), he can hear a scraping sound, and then the doorknob jiggling a little. He figures the girls, (clever girls), have wedged something under it to postpone their escape.
He gives a moment’s contemplation to throwing himself against it, and lets the thought go just as quickly. Lily is clever and thorough, and Fran, well Fran’s read a lot of books and is one of the smartest people he knows all by herself. Whatever they put against that door is going to be heavy. These girls don’t do things by halves. R.J.’s shoulder protests at the thought, and R.J. shrugs it to loosen the muscles. He feels the bite of fingers pressing into his sides, and he realizes that it’s Casey trying to get leverage to get his feet under him. He also realizes that he’s got Casey wrapped in his arms from when the girls threw him in. They’re pressed against each other from thigh to torso, one of Casey’s feet, (one of his legs), caught between R.J.’s. R.J. lets go immediately. Too immediately as it turns out. Casey flails with the sudden loss of support, trying to stay upright, (damn small closets).
“Whoa, man. Calm down and get your balance. I think we’re gonna be here awhile.” R.J. tells him, catching an arm to help Casey find his balance. The arm is warm under his palm, and as soon as Casey stops flailing R.J. lets go.
“R.J.?”
R.J. matches Casey’s questioning tone with one of his own. “Yeah, Casey?”
“What’s going on?”
R.J. contemplates for a minute, (he’s Zen, contemplation is second nature when you’re Zen), and goes for the you-ask-the-obvious-question route, “What do you mean, Casey?”
R.J. may not be able to see much in the dim light that spills from under the door, but he can see Casey’s jaw clench tight. “I mean, why are Lily and Fran playing reverse Hide-and-Go-Seek with us?”
He just can’t help himself. “Technically, I think it’s more reverse Sardines, or just tag team Sardines for that matter.” R.J. watches Casey’s jaw clench even more, and let’s himself feel a short burst of pleasure. Serves the cub right, stirring things up.
“R.J. I’m serious! Do you think they could be,” Casey leans in, (quite a feat), and lowers his tone, “possessed?”
R.J. meets his student’s eyes and all teasing is forgotten. Casey is so earnest, and so worried for his friends that R.J. can’t bring himself to cause the boy more pain. “No Casey, I don’t think they’re possessed.”
The worry doesn’t fade from the boy’s eyes, though it does change shade slightly. “Then why are we locked in a closet!?” The words are said quick and low, and R.J. can feel Casey’s breath hit his own lips as he speaks them, (too close, too close). R.J. pulls his head back from Casey’s, and tries to form an answer that doesn’t involve Theo’s birthday, drunkenness, kissing, or overly observant employees.
It’s proves difficult, Casey is right there, and the closet is slowly filling up with his scent, (why aren’t closets ventilated?), and R.J. feels almost dizzy with it. The scent that fills his nose isn’t overlaid with pizza ingredients, or monster goop, or even soap. The girls must have caught him just after his workout, because Casey smells like sweat, and practically radiates heat, and R.J. knows in a moment of perfect clarity, (the Zen part of him is all a quiver, moments of clarity are rare), that if he does not get out of this closet very soon, he is screwed.
His eyes move all over Casey’s face, avoiding his eyes, and come to rest on his lips, (soft, soft lips, no), and he sees that they’re moving. R.J. pulls himself together, and tunes back in.
“…okay? R.J.?”
“Hmmm?”
“I said, are you okay? Only you kind of zoned out on me there.” Casey’s voice has a tight, forced quality to it, like he’s trying hard not to freak out. R.J. figures it’s best to reassure him.
“I’m fine Casey. Just had a…Zen moment, that’s all.” R.J. can see, (feel), Casey breathe out at that, and goes on. “And I think the girls put us in here because it’s a slow day and they were feeling mischievous.” This is close enough to true that R.J. only feels a short pang of guilt, easily shrugged aside. After all it’s better then, “Gee Casey, I think the girls have figured out that I can’t go twenty minutes without wanting to jump your bones even though you’re my student, and barely nineteen, and that they’ve locked us in here in the hopes that I’ll lose control and do it. Sorry.”
Casey shoots him a look, and for a second, (just a second), he fears his inner monologue has become his outer monologue. Casey opens his mouth to speak, but whatever he intends to say is cut off by a thump on the other side of the door. Both their heads swivel to watch the door, as they listen to something scrape across the floor. Two sets of eyes drop to the doorknob as two sets of ears listen to the lock click.
The door opens to reveal Theo, standing in a rectangle of light, looking at the two of them like they’re an interesting new kind of psychotic. R.J. is the first to move, brushing past both his students ignoring questions, and heading straight for his room. He crosses the threshold, and turns to shut the door. Casey is at the end of the hall, Theo at his side looking up at the tiger, apparently asking a question, (probably “what the hell were you doing locked in a closet”). Casey, however, is staring straight at him. R.J. isn’t sure what to make of the boy’s expression. It’s looks like…suspicion, and curiosity, (an something else, something hopeful), mixed together.
R.J. shuts the door and takes a deep, cleansing breath. That look stays in his minds eye, and Casey’s scent is still in his nostrils. He is so. Screwed.
Here we have the next installment in the series of PRSW22 that I have decided to call Roundabout. Yeah, subtle ain't my strong suit. Enjoy!
Caught
Disclaimer - These boys are not mine. If they were this would be cannon.
#9 - hallways
R.J. is not entirely sure how he came to be locked in his own hall closet.
Well, actually he’s pretty clear on that part. He distinctly remembers following Lily down the hall with Fran behind him, both of them babbling about a spider that was “as long as your forearm, and I think it must be Dai Shi’s new monster R.J., seriously, spiders just do not grow this big on their own.”
He has a crystal sharp memory of Lily stopping outside of, and opening the closet, of his own momentary confusion, and of Fran’s hands, small, and narrow, and surprisingly strong, against the middle of his back as he was unceremoniously shoved into said closet. He also clearly remembers how loud the lock sounded when it clicked into place.
The only thing he’s fuzzy on is the why. Which is the exact question he’s contemplating when the sound of muffled voices reach his ears. He hears Lily and Fran’s high pitches and a lower timbre that he can’t quite make out whether it’s Casey or Theo.
R.J. is not an imbecile, and he is not blind, (many apologies to Master Swoop). He’s noticed Lily and Fran heads together, studying him in the pizza parlor, in the loft, and quickly averting their eyes when he glanced their way. He’d hoped it was something, anything other than this, and with a fierce, (if sudden), devotion he prays to whatever powers of light there are in the universe that it’s Theo the two girls are leading down the hallway to be Shanghaied.
His hopes die a quick but painful death when the closet door is flung open, and he meets Casey’s confused brown eyes. Right before Lily shoves him from behind, (huh, they must have switched places), and straight into R.J.
The door slams closed. As R.J. struggles to keep his feet, (there’s not enough room in here to fall down), he can hear a scraping sound, and then the doorknob jiggling a little. He figures the girls, (clever girls), have wedged something under it to postpone their escape.
He gives a moment’s contemplation to throwing himself against it, and lets the thought go just as quickly. Lily is clever and thorough, and Fran, well Fran’s read a lot of books and is one of the smartest people he knows all by herself. Whatever they put against that door is going to be heavy. These girls don’t do things by halves. R.J.’s shoulder protests at the thought, and R.J. shrugs it to loosen the muscles. He feels the bite of fingers pressing into his sides, and he realizes that it’s Casey trying to get leverage to get his feet under him. He also realizes that he’s got Casey wrapped in his arms from when the girls threw him in. They’re pressed against each other from thigh to torso, one of Casey’s feet, (one of his legs), caught between R.J.’s. R.J. lets go immediately. Too immediately as it turns out. Casey flails with the sudden loss of support, trying to stay upright, (damn small closets).
“Whoa, man. Calm down and get your balance. I think we’re gonna be here awhile.” R.J. tells him, catching an arm to help Casey find his balance. The arm is warm under his palm, and as soon as Casey stops flailing R.J. lets go.
“R.J.?”
R.J. matches Casey’s questioning tone with one of his own. “Yeah, Casey?”
“What’s going on?”
R.J. contemplates for a minute, (he’s Zen, contemplation is second nature when you’re Zen), and goes for the you-ask-the-obvious-question route, “What do you mean, Casey?”
R.J. may not be able to see much in the dim light that spills from under the door, but he can see Casey’s jaw clench tight. “I mean, why are Lily and Fran playing reverse Hide-and-Go-Seek with us?”
He just can’t help himself. “Technically, I think it’s more reverse Sardines, or just tag team Sardines for that matter.” R.J. watches Casey’s jaw clench even more, and let’s himself feel a short burst of pleasure. Serves the cub right, stirring things up.
“R.J. I’m serious! Do you think they could be,” Casey leans in, (quite a feat), and lowers his tone, “possessed?”
R.J. meets his student’s eyes and all teasing is forgotten. Casey is so earnest, and so worried for his friends that R.J. can’t bring himself to cause the boy more pain. “No Casey, I don’t think they’re possessed.”
The worry doesn’t fade from the boy’s eyes, though it does change shade slightly. “Then why are we locked in a closet!?” The words are said quick and low, and R.J. can feel Casey’s breath hit his own lips as he speaks them, (too close, too close). R.J. pulls his head back from Casey’s, and tries to form an answer that doesn’t involve Theo’s birthday, drunkenness, kissing, or overly observant employees.
It’s proves difficult, Casey is right there, and the closet is slowly filling up with his scent, (why aren’t closets ventilated?), and R.J. feels almost dizzy with it. The scent that fills his nose isn’t overlaid with pizza ingredients, or monster goop, or even soap. The girls must have caught him just after his workout, because Casey smells like sweat, and practically radiates heat, and R.J. knows in a moment of perfect clarity, (the Zen part of him is all a quiver, moments of clarity are rare), that if he does not get out of this closet very soon, he is screwed.
His eyes move all over Casey’s face, avoiding his eyes, and come to rest on his lips, (soft, soft lips, no), and he sees that they’re moving. R.J. pulls himself together, and tunes back in.
“…okay? R.J.?”
“Hmmm?”
“I said, are you okay? Only you kind of zoned out on me there.” Casey’s voice has a tight, forced quality to it, like he’s trying hard not to freak out. R.J. figures it’s best to reassure him.
“I’m fine Casey. Just had a…Zen moment, that’s all.” R.J. can see, (feel), Casey breathe out at that, and goes on. “And I think the girls put us in here because it’s a slow day and they were feeling mischievous.” This is close enough to true that R.J. only feels a short pang of guilt, easily shrugged aside. After all it’s better then, “Gee Casey, I think the girls have figured out that I can’t go twenty minutes without wanting to jump your bones even though you’re my student, and barely nineteen, and that they’ve locked us in here in the hopes that I’ll lose control and do it. Sorry.”
Casey shoots him a look, and for a second, (just a second), he fears his inner monologue has become his outer monologue. Casey opens his mouth to speak, but whatever he intends to say is cut off by a thump on the other side of the door. Both their heads swivel to watch the door, as they listen to something scrape across the floor. Two sets of eyes drop to the doorknob as two sets of ears listen to the lock click.
The door opens to reveal Theo, standing in a rectangle of light, looking at the two of them like they’re an interesting new kind of psychotic. R.J. is the first to move, brushing past both his students ignoring questions, and heading straight for his room. He crosses the threshold, and turns to shut the door. Casey is at the end of the hall, Theo at his side looking up at the tiger, apparently asking a question, (probably “what the hell were you doing locked in a closet”). Casey, however, is staring straight at him. R.J. isn’t sure what to make of the boy’s expression. It’s looks like…suspicion, and curiosity, (an something else, something hopeful), mixed together.
R.J. shuts the door and takes a deep, cleansing breath. That look stays in his minds eye, and Casey’s scent is still in his nostrils. He is so. Screwed.