I tried to post this yesterday for hours ... but nothing worked.
So here's a little ficlet for the Secret Challenge. Sorry for being late ...
This time it was different. It wasn't that Santorra treated the boy only. He hit him, hurt him as he did almost every day but this time the boy started crying.
It hat to stop.
Zeke Tylor usually used to ignore the treatments but seeing someone crying - this was something he just couldn't stand. It wasn't physical pain, it was intimate, private... He couldn't but step in.
Slowly he took a little brown leather book from Santorra's hands, yelling at him "It's enough, Gabe! You had fun! But stop it. Now! Leave the kid alone for today!"
So far so good. Santorra laughed mockingly. "Hey, it's sort of a diary and pretty interesting. Especially for you, Zeke."
Zeke got in rage, his face reddened. When he straightened his back he seemed to be even bigger "Stop it! NOW!" Zeke handed the little book to Casey Connor but the kid was too slow and it slipped to the ground. It landed head-down at the floor and several photos were scattered around. The photos showed ... him. Zeke Tyler. Zeke preferred to ignore this as well, the situation was embarrassing enough for the little nerd. He picked the photos and put it in Casey's hands.
"It seems you've an admirer, Tyler" Gabe laughed giving him a clap on his shoulder. Zeke turned around slowly, very slowly, piercing his football mate with ice-cold black eyes.
"Didn't I made it clear? LEAVE. THE KID. ALONE! NOW!!!"
His voice brooked no contradiction. Gabe turned red, white, green but he knew exactly when he had reached the special line. He shrugged his shoulders, giggled and laughed, didn't pay the Connor kid no attention anymore and went away.
When Zeke looked over his shoulder the boy was gone. 'Special kind of way to thank me' he thought in his arrogance. It made him a bit angry.
When he sat in his car he lighted a cigarette. Why the heck did he carry photos of him? Why did he write a dictionary and how could he be so stupid to take these things to school? It was a matter of time until someone discovered his secrets. But he had to admit he was ... interested. At least a little. So this little "sweetheart" had a crush on him. Understandable. He was The Zeke - smart, handsome and ... exceptional.
Half of the pupils wanted to get in touch with him, the other half was heartbroken, already. It wasn't his fault. Didn't they pursue him like rats? Wherever he goes people were glued to him. They wanted him, it wasn't the other way round. Never ever. He enjoyed it, had fun, sure - but he didn't feel anything. Whether disgust nor something like ... sympathy. He wasn't interested in any of them. He knew exactly why they flocked around him like moths to the light. Parties, drugs,rock'n Roll, sex - this all happened at Zeke's. That's why they are so ...downright intrusive. Everyone wanted to be part of it. Moths circling around the light - wasn't it inevitable to get burned? It wasn't his fault, he didn't ask for it.
But the Connor boy was different. Clever, sure. But solitary, too. Surrounded by boring people of the school magazine. Weird. Boys like him usually had a crush on Delilah. Delilah. To him she was boring as hell but she was pretty ... somehow.
They'd share the next class. Literature. One of Zeke's favorite subjects. 'So let's see how far I can go' he giggled, running light-footed to the classroom. Wasn't the seat beside Connor empty so far? He'd change it. He couldn't resist making him ... nervous. A little game would be nice.
He remembered the gold print on the book "Secrets" - wasn't it the invitation for a little peek? No. This wasn't his style, he was sure the boy would show him the secrets by choice some day.
Zeke was curious. So far he didn't notice Casey at any hour, by no comment. Crazy.
He dropped down in the chair, banging his books on the desk. Casey almost jumped out of his skin and blushed.
Yeah - it would be fun. Zeke was right, the boy definitely had a crush on him.
"Hey, Casey Connor."
Casey looked at him and Zeke felt a big "BANG!" in his heart. Blue eyes. Bluest eyes ever. Wow!
He had the eyes of a girl, no doubt - no, no boy should have eyes like that. No eyes should ... touch him that much in a split second.
'People think I enjoy being tough. So I have no chance...'
"What?" Zeke snapped at him, regretting it at once when he could see the boy flinching, turning pale but then he did something unbelievable. Casey took his backpack, got up and went to Zeke's former place.
What the heck? How could he blame him? The Zeke showed up by a geek? Zeke couldn't just ignore that. It would ruin his reputation. He bent over and hissed "Move your little ass back here! AT ONCE!"
But the kid surprised him again when he gnarled back "I'm not your dog! And YOU, especially YOU don't give ME any orders!"
Was this his kind of gratefulness? After what he had done for him? Zeke deserved better, right? Absolutely. Casey didn't have to kiss his feet, no - but he shouldn't be that ... snotty.
Zeke couldn't help himself - he was... impressed.He has never been able to imagine something like that before. He couldn't imagine anyone who would have acted like Casey. The kid was a geek, sure - but he was cool. And brave.
Watching him the entire lesson was a balance act between rage, curiosity, wounded pride and admiration.
Could a guy call another boy pretty or beautiful, gorgeous? The Zeke could ... secretly, of course.
Zeke nearly examined him from head to toe and back again and ... he liked what he saw.
Little feet, slim legs, nice butt (as far as he could recognize it). His arms. There were muscles?! The kid seemed to be stronger than Zeke thought him to be. Yes - he was ... pretty. The face. He couldn't stop staring at it. Everything was perfect - the jaw line, luscious lips, long lashes, rosy cheeks - maybe a little bit girlish. Zeke was sure the boy didn't know the danger he was in. The way he chewed his lips ... mmmmm... Casey looked up straight in his eyes - Zeke was scared so bad, he almost flipped!
Literature lesson ... Zeke had to read some lines of a poem of Walt Whitman and while reading it he dedicated it to Casey. Secretly.
"When I wandered alone over the beach, and undressing, bathed,
laughing with the waters, and saw the sun rise,
And when I thought how my friend, my lover, was on
his way coming, then O I was happy,
Each breath tasted sweeter – and all that day my food
nourished me more – and the beautiful day passed well,
And the next came with equal joy – and with the next,
at evening, came my friend,
And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll
slowly continually up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands, as directed
to me, whispering to congratulate me,
For the friend I love lay sleeping by my side,
In the stillness his face was inclined toward me, while the
moon's clear beams shone
And his arm lay lightly over my breast – and that night I was happy."
When I heard at the Close of the Day has always been his favorite poem by Withman and today it seemed all the more beautiful to him. Casey's face was deep red now but wasn't there the tiniest hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth?
What a seducing toy! Wouldn't it be a challenge to crack him? Zeke COULD be very nice. Zeke could play with words - yes, he was a master in it. A modern Walt Whitman if you want to say so.
Zeke felt amused. Yes, he should wake the tiger, the hunter in himself.
After school he asked Casey if he could give him a ride back home in his GTO and the boy said "no", turned around and entered the schoolbus. He refused a ride in his baby? With HIM? Who did he think he was? Casey had the laughter on his side. This cries for revenge! Oh yes. Casey would be begging him for mercy. Zeke was angry and in a very foul mood. The diary! Now he wanted to get it! Should be as easy as pie. He'd done many illegal things - to be a thief was the easiest task of all. When he had cracked the lock at the sacristy to get the altar wine didn't he play the good child and altar boy after it? Until today the priests still had no clue who the thief was...
He followed the school bus to find out where Casey lived. He was sure it was the typical family home. White front door, waiting mom with white apron waiting for her chicken to come home. Neatly trimmed lawn, rose bushes, flower pots, family car and so on. All in all well protected. He almost was right besides the white-apron-clucking-hen. Casey opened the front door with a key he took from a chain around his neck. So he was alone in the afternoon. Oh this was good. He simply had to get the key. On Friday. After school. He'd 'borrow' it and give it back until Casey could realize it was gone. The rage faded, adventure lust grew.
On his way back home Zeke was sure Mrs. C called her son honey pie, darling, sweetheart or ... muffin. He cracked up with laughter.
Which nickname would he choose for Casey?
Wonderboy. Boy Wonder, na - he'd spare these names for later.
Peachie, strawberry, lemon, cherry - how unimaginative.
Pumpkin - he laughed again when he thought about Casey pumpkin. No. Definitely no.
A faked name maybe -... Charles - sounded like a butler, Victor - like a circus director.
Hmm.. Giorgio, Gorgeous, Curly, Matt? Teddy-bear? Good god! Butterfly, bug, cat, dragon?
Casey. Backward... Yesac. No. Ezekiel backward ... liekeze - sounded like Chinese food.
No. He didn't need a nickname for Casey. Casey was good. It suited him well. Fact.
So Zeke. What are you thinking about thinking of Casey Connor. Blue eyes, clever fingers, smart ass. Didn't he look like thousands of sins did come true. Words and thoughts were running in circles.
When Zeke fell asleep at night a little smile was on his face, something that didn't happen that often.
Blue eyes, hands on his body, lips soft and cool as velvet caressing his skin - and he let it happen because he wanted it, he wanted Casey, screaming and shouting his name over and over again.
When he shot up being all sweat, his hair plastered on his forehead, his throat dry from screaming He shouted "I hate nightmares!!! IT HATE THE DARK."
He hated Casey making him feeling weak... even it was only a dream. But he was so hot! And he wanted him!???
NO, no, no! Shit! Why else could he feel a kiss on his lips? A kiss that never happened? Why else did he smell and taste salt, skin and sweat of a body he wasn't close?
The dream world was - although superficially stained by mud and darkness - more colorful, more varied and more intense.
He hated the dark. Absolutely, nightly, scary, complete darkness. He had to get out of here. Shit! What couldn't he stop thinking about him?
He had a crush on Casey???
A quote crossed his mind, a quote he didn't even know he read or heard it "Sparkles of desire live in all of us, the same insatiable desire, the same secret fire, the same abyss, the same unending thirst for happiness and joy and love... and be loved."
He had to stop this! At once! He hated Casey! He hated him! He hated himself!
And he sooo wanted to feel those lips on his. And now it was him begging for mercy. Secretly.