|Details in the Fabric
Author: Subconscious-Flirt PM
Series of prompts written over winter break about Elliot and Tony who, sure, have some issues, but who doesn't? It's hard to be in a gay relationship in high school. It's supposed to be, right? Slash.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Drama - Chapters: 16 - Words: 14,861 - Reviews: 82 - Favs: 22 - Follows: 24 - Updated: 05-15-10 - Published: 03-27-10 - id: 2790009
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
So these are the same prompts that Big Break and Laryngitis is posting on her account. Basically she gave me a different one everyday. She was awesome enough to actually string it together into a storyline, but I didn't feel like doing that, so it's the same people but the chapters are in prompt order but not actual consecutive time order. So I have the dates on the top so it's not confusing. It goes from December 2007 to December 2009 (because it was Christmas when I wrote these, hehe) Right. So I'll do one a day. Yeah. Review. (Prompts are chapter titles, sometimes I didn't follow them that great)
I used to tell myself that it was nothing. I was crazy, that was it. Because being crazy was a lot more likely than having some stupid teenage girl-like crush on one of my guy friends. I mean, honestly. It was ridiculous.
His name was Elliot Long.
And he wasn't even particularly attractive.
Of course, now I'd swear he's the most beautiful person on the planet, but that's a different story.
If you look objectively, he's not perfect. He doesn't have that chiseled jaw most guys look for, and his hair isn't perfectly swept across his eyes like girls would fantasize. His eyes aren't spectacularly bright or stunning (unless you happen to be staring into them as he moans underneath you, but again, that's a different story), and he's not exceedingly tall or muscular.
But there was just... something about him.
Of course, I wouldn't have admitted that.
So I just pretended that my day didn't brighten when he entered a room. It was pretty difficult, too. There was this girl - Jennifer, I think - who had this big crush on me and I was trying incredibly hard to return some of her feelings. I had myself pretty much convinced that going on a date wouldn't kill me, but (and I swear it was fate) right as I was about to call her the phone started ringing.
It was Elliot, and I think I almost stabbed myself with the fork in my hand (I was eating this really great pumpkin pie). But I answered it, and he just wanted to know what the English homework was but it worked its magic. We got off topic, because we do that, and he asked about things with Jennifer.
And that was when I knew, and everything turned to shit.
He totally liked me back.
And, sure, I could have been imagining it, dreaming. But, see, the thing is... I really didn't want Elliot to have feelings for me. That would just confirm my underlying suspicions and make my life hell. So I was pretty damn sure that I wasn't hallucinating or anything.
And, okay, it wasn't exactly like he told me he liked me. One thing that needs to be understood about Elliot is that he really doesn't like others to suffer unnecessarily, and that's an understatement. So he wouldn't confess his feelings when he knew I would just feel shitty about it, and even though I'm sure he had an inkling that the feelings were at least a little mutual he wasn't selfish enough to try and stop me from dating her.
But a liar Elliot wasn't - isn't - and there was something in his voice, something jealous, that just told me that he liked me. It wasn't a huge revelation, because I always knew he was gay, but it changed everything.
It was verified when he started looking at me the way that he does. When he thought I wasn't looking, he would just give me this look like he wanted to take my pants off and kiss me senseless and make me breakfast the next day.
Ell isn't the most subtle of people.
There was no avoiding it.
Except I didn't know that, so I tried. Really hard.
There was this one time that I remember specifically. It was the worst because I couldn't pass it off as not hearing him in a crowded hallway or being absorbed in another conversation. I was coming out of after-school debate, and I think he was following me (he hadn't waited an hour after school for me, he was coming from soccer practice, but still).
"Tony?" he called. His voice was nervous, and I turned around, caught off guard.
There was nobody else around, but I didn't answer, just looked at him. I hated the way his frown made me want to frown too.
"Tony? I... wanted to talk to you."
I shrugged. This was what I'd been hoping to avoid, having a conversation with him. I hated the way his timid kindness made my heart restart.
I wasn't gay. I really wasn't. So I should get out of there before I became gay. Right?
"Look. I really don't know what I did, but I'm sorry. Can you tell me what the problem is so I can try and fix it?"
Sometimes Elliot talks like a young girl. Which he knows and hates. I used to have that same problem around him, except my solution was to use the words man and dude more often than necessary (like, hey, man, wanna come over? Dude, what's up? I was just going to call you, man) so that the sentences that sounded most awkward could be easily read as very very manly.
Elliot hadn't quite learned that particular trick yet, and I wasn't in the mood to teach it to him. "It's nothing," I mumbled. and took the opportunity to make my escape.
"Tony," he pleaded, and I couldn't help but look back at him. He looked so sad (over me) that it pretty much broke my heart. Making Elliot unhappy just sucks, because he's one of those people who are generally very upbeat and positive and when something's bothering him you can really tell.
He was still cute though. Back then I didn't know that part of it was that pout he gets in his lips, but it was easy to tell that something was different. "Tony, you're my... friend. And whatever it is I don't think it's worth... can you just tell me?"
He wasn't crying - he's not that girly - but the effect was the same as if he had.
I had to get out of there. "Later," I muttered, and took off toward my house.
I didn't look back.