Static Shock Fan Fiction ❯ One ❯ Chapter Twelve ( Chapter 12 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Manga-Chick 
Things come to a conclusion...and the two have to accept that things will never be easy for them.
Non Anime: Static Shock Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.26.2005 | Pages: 5 | Words: 6.7K | Visits: 618 | Status: Completed
Things come to a conclusion...and the two have to accept that things will never be easy for them.
Non Anime: Static Shock Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Drama | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.26.2005 | Pages: 5 | Words: 6.7K | Visits: 618 | Status: Completed
One
Chapter Twelve:
It was around four in the morning when Static finally broke away from his patrolling–he felt it was too late to see Richie, so he headed home. Since he was still on suspension until Monday, he caught up on some sleep, telling Robert that he'd meet him at the community center in a few hours to help out. Virgil decided that he was going to confront Richie, to make peace. If the guy wasn’t going to school today, then he was going to track him down. They needed to get things absolved, and they needed to repair their friendship. No more secrets; no more lies.
At Dakota Union, he waited at the front entrance, scanning the incoming crowd of students. When the first bell rang, Virgil decided to head to Richie's house. It was a twenty minute walk there, so he took his time by taking various side alleys and such, so Sharon or Robert wouldn’t catch him . When he arrived at the familiar two story house, he repressed a shudder. He hadn’t been back here since that time he’d met both Sean and Maggie, and he was really hesitant to do so. He didn’t want to meet with Sean, again, more than wary about what the man would do or say.
But the Corolla wasn’t in the driveway, so either he was gone, or the entire family was gone. Taking the chance, he hurried up to the house, glancing around himself. He could get away with doing Static things as Virgil, so he planned on sneaking into Richie’s room, to see if he were up there. When he looked up to the room overlooking the front, he realized something was missing; the balcony had been torn down, the telltale outline of where the beams had been nailed in obvious in the daylight. He made a face, looking around himself to see that a pile of wood had been settled along the side of the house.
Frowning, he used his powers of magnetism to cling to the gutter, tapping on the window and trying to peer inside. The blinds were drawn tightly, and he listened for any movement. Figuring that Richie wasn’t there, he sighed and dropped back to the ground.
He was heading out to the sidewalk to head to the community center when he heard the front door open, and his name called softly. He turned, shifting his backpack to see Richie standing there in the doorway, gesturing at him. Virgil hurried over, glancing around, and walked up the front porch. He looked at his friend, and grew startled with what he saw.
The remnants of a bruise left the area around his left eye reddish-brown, his eyelid shut halfway due to swelling. The one he had on his lip was faded to a slight brown, leaving that area and the one along his jawline a dingy color. His shoulders were heavily slumped, as if it took too much energy to keep them straightened. Also, on his left arm, was a green cast that extended from his knuckles to his elbow. He walked with a sort of stiffness reserved for restricted movement due to more injuries–there was just a depressed air about him that made Virgil feel extremely guilty as he shut the door behind him, glancing around cautiously.
“So...what’s up?” Richie asked him cordially, looking at him from over his shoulder.
“What happened to you?” Virgil asked, gesturing at the cast and giving him an anxious expression.
“Oh...uh...well, there was a parked car, me, and my scooter. Let’s just say the parked car wanted none of what I was giving him,” Richie said with a slight smile. Then he grew serious, giving Virgil a curious look. “What’s wrong?”
“I...I’m just wondering why you haven’t been in school,” Virgil muttered, his hands sliding into his pants pockets.
“Oh. Uhm...just...I’ve just been feeling ill, lately. My stomach...giving me problems. Might have an ulcer.”
Virgil shifted, then glanced around. “From him?”
Richie looked away, reaching up to brush at his uncombed hair. It looked like he was going to shut him out, so Virgil quickly added, “You’re depressed over him? Over...what...what happened?”
Richie dropped his hand, giving him a sullen look. “I know you don’t want to hear the gory details, Virg, so I won’t give. But, honestly–yes. I am quite down about things with him. But...we knew. What would happen–”
“Your boy got himself jumped by Ebon and his gang, last night,” Virgil said, looking away from him as he stared at the homey materials that made up Richie’s living room. He sensed his friend look up sharply, but didn’t want to see the expression there. “Funny thing, though. He was by himself. I wonder what he was thinkin’, doin’ that...just like...just like he waltzed right up to Ebon.”
“Was he...was he hurt?”
“He’s in intensive care, Richie. Down at County General. They have guards all over the place. Without his powers, he’s just...vulnerable like the rest of them. I don’t understand–”
“Hmm,” Richie muttered, turning away from him to sit down gingerly on the immaculate couch. Virgil turned to look at him, feeling his brow furrow. The silence between them was thick, and while Virgil didn’t want to, he didn’t understand why Richie wasn’t so concerned with what he was telling him. He figured that as soon as Richie heard about it, he would be flying out the door to be with him.
Richie caught his expression, reaching up to scratch at his jaw. “What?”
“I...I just thought you’d be more...concerned,” Virgil said vaguely, shrugging.
Richie shook his head, looking away from him. His expression turned contemplative and lost.
“I mean...don’t you want to–”
“Why are you being so concerned about him, Virgil? You hate him. He got jumped, he’s hurt–I thought you’d be celebrating it. Kinda like...he deserved it, anyway, right?”
He was right–Virgil did think that way. But his best friend mattered most, and he was trying to understand and offer solace, damn it! His lips tightened, and he turned away to look over the various family photos that were set systematically on the light colored walls. He heard Richie sigh and shift on the couch, and looked back at him, to see his head bent, forehead against his knee. His cast covered forearm wrapped around his leg to keep it in place, his other arm reaching down to fiddle with his bare toes.
The boy was dressed in what looked to be his pajamas–plain tee, sweats, bare feet. It looked as if he hadn’t tried putting himself back together again. It was depressing.
Virgil exhaled heavily, and dropped his backpack onto the floor, startling the other into looking up. Virgil took the seat next to him, his hands plopping uselessly into his lap. “Richie...I’m–I am trying to be understanding. I am trying hard to do this, to–to accept things, an’ try to move on. I miss my best friend! I miss him, Richie! I could stand right next to him, but he’s far away from me! I fucked up, Rich, I really did. I reacted in the worst possible way to that, an’–an’ I keep losing you because I don’t–I don’t understand what it is that has you all up on him! I–I–about this gay thing, too–I am....I am bein’ honest with you. I am tryin’ to communicate with you. I want you to understand that while I am uncomfortable with it, you’re still my best friend. You’re still the guy that puts away chili-cheese fries like they ain’t nothin’, and can’t eat Mexican grub cuz you stank people out within a fifteen mile radius of you!”
Richie chuckled and grinned, but the smile was once again lost as Virgil continued.
“I have to accept that you’ll like...guys the way I like girls. I have to accept that while I’m ooglin’ Tyra, you’re lookin’ at Leo, or–”
“Usher.”
“...Huh?̶ 1;
“I like Usher better than Leo. Better abs.”
Virgil blinked, then inched away with a look of disgust. Richie merely laid his head upon his knee, turning his face away from him as he chuckled lightly. Shaking his head, Virgil resumed his seat, hands out as he spoke.
“Anyway, above all that–! Richie, I...I said an’ did things that weren’t exactly best friend of the year material, an’ I know I helped push us apart with my attitude and my actions, but...I am trying, Rich. I am trying. It’s hard to do when you keep pushing me away. With all this pushing, I’m not surprised that we don’t know each other, anymore. That you turned into a stranger to me over the last...the last five months...four. Four months. An’ I continue to push you away because of Daisy, an’–a lot of things changed this year, and I don’t–I don’t want any more. I want you, my best friend, back. I want to be able to hang out with you, again, without havin’ to go through more lies and pushing! I was hurt, Rich, that you pushed me away! That you told me nothin’! An’, I admit, it was mainly my fault in doing this, cuz I acted like a jerk. And you knew me good enough to know this. And...I’m sorry. I’m really sorry!’
Virgil sighed heavily as he dropped his head, feeling as if most of the fight left him, then. Getting all those words out into the open left him with some relief–but he knew there were still more rocks in the road to encounter.
When Richie shifted again, looking at him tiredly, Virgil felt some more relief flood through him.
“It’s okay, Virg. It was my fault, too. For...all the right reasons. I didn’t want you feeling like I was... pushing you away in favor of him. I know how you felt about him. But I can’t change or stop the way that I feel about him. I just can’t. It’s not in my control. I can’t change what happened, or make stupid excuses for why I feel the way I had. I just...can’t. I understand that keeping things from you was the wrong thing to do, but you have to understand why I couldn’t! You know why.”
“...so...what is this?”
“What...is what?”
“We still good?”
“...Of course, Virgil.”
“No secrets?”
“...No. To...a certain extent.”
“Richie...”
“No, I’m serious, Virgil. You want me telling you what I–”
“Okay okay okay,” Virgil said quickly, holding out his hands. “Secrets to a certain degree are acceptable, as LONG as I have a gist of what they are. Just...give me warning.”
“...I will, V. Thank you for being...understanding, I guess.”
“Yeah...” Virgil shrugged, awkwardly reaching up to play with his dreads. He then looked at him again. “Care to share what you know? I mean...where’d you go? What happened, that night on the rooftop?”
Richie sighed, then shifted in his seat. “Got a while?”
“Yeah. I got all day for you, man. Still suspended from school. Let me in the know, so I know what I know.” Virgil shifted uncomfortably. “Start from the beginning...I...I kinda wanna know how this all started. From the beginning.”
“I...there really isn’t...from the very beginning?”
“When you an’–an’ him started...”
“Oh. Well...Virgil, you know everything about that. I told you everything. It was...it was confusing for us, both. It seemed that the more we talked, we...we had an understanding. And...and we were attracted to each other. I was more surprised than you were when he...he made the first move. But... everything was mutual. When he came back, yeah, we talked, an’–we...kinda resumed where we left off. I wanted to help him because he was trying really hard, V. To do right. But he was having a hard time with it, because everyone was pressuring him to just take up and resume his old ways. He had a chance, V–he’s capable of turning things around, to do good. But...I guess...peer pressure was just too much. He doesn’t have anything, Virgil. His credibility is important cuz that’s all he really has. And it meant a lot to him.
“We knew we couldn’t...be together. We knew that from the start. But you can’t stop two people from being attracted and caring for each other, V. Then...I know this is going to get disgusting, V, but you asked. Ebon...Before they went to jail, everyone kept mentioning that he had this...this dream of Gear. I know, I was disgusted, too. But...when he had me, he kept hitting on me. Kept...it was disgusting, and revolting. But...he has this thing for Gear. It’s gross. Before that night, I was doing my patrol, an’ I stumbled on them, accidently. Shiv and Talon attacked, but Ebon was doin’ something that I couldn’t make out. Anyway, Talon’s scream affected me so badly, that I felt like I was...overloaded. Y’know?”
Virgil nodded, picking at his jeans with an uncomfortable air as he listened.
“Everything in my mind just–just felt as if it all locked. I couldn’t process information, couldn’t function normally–I was helpless! And Ebon wanted to use that. To...to...do...whatever. I lost Backpack that night–which, by the way, I’m remaking–and those three kept him. They...they must have pressured Francis to come along to prove something, because he was there. He wouldn’t have done that because...because he just wouldn’t! But needless to say, Talon did her thing, and...and I don’t know what happened then. Just that...when I became conscious of things, you were taking me home.”
“He wouldn’t let Ebon near you.”
“What?”
“Hotstreak–he wouldn’t let Ebon near you. I thought that he was just–just fuckin’ around. Just... pulling at his strings, but...I...I understand, now.”
Richie pulled a shoulder into a slight shrug. “Anyway, the next thing I remember was that...he was taking me somewhere. Thinking about it, now, Ebon was probably going to retaliate in that aspect. Because of...of his continued theory that I, Richie, was his bitch. And...he wanted to retaliate. So, Francis...came and got me. So...so nothing would happen to me. He cared–cares–for me, Virgil. Like I do for him. It may not show, but he does. We were outside of Dakota to hide when he realized that doing this was...incriminating for both of us. That...it put both of us in danger. So...we came back, but...we knew...we couldn’t keep...seeing each other.”
Richie looked away, hugging his knee tightly. “I knew I grew to love him, V, and he felt the same way. It just...wasn’t the right sort that people accepted. And...it put us both in danger. He had more to lose than I...”
“He has nothing!”
“No, he has things, Virgil. Not much, but those things...that’s all he has.”
Virgil looked away, leaning away from him. He couldn’t understand Richie’s love for the older male–he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It was simply too fantastic, too far beyond him. Something unreachable and unfathomable. He couldn’t see past his own hate for the guy, and while he was...happy for his friend in ways that he would normally accept for those in love, he couldn’t accept and understand what had brought these two particular souls together.
He would try, though. For Richie. He would try.
“I...I see,” he muttered, his voice thick and low. “I mean...I can’t see it, but I...I see. Sorta like...like Romeo and Juliet.”
“But neither of us have contemplated suicide just to escape. That’s dumb.”
“I know, I know, but...just...two people from entirely different backgrounds gettin’ it? I mean...” Virgil shrugged. He was still new on how to address things.
For awhile, the two boys lost themselves to their own thoughts, until the front door opened. Virgil sat up quickly as Sean walked in, spotting them both. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Richie, and he glanced back at him, noting the petrified expression on his friend’s face. He looked back at Sean, who looked at him with a glance that suggested what he thought.
He muttered, “You’re grounded, Richie. You know the rules.”
“I...I’m sorry. V, I’ll...I’ll talk to you...at school Monday, all right?”
Virgil looked at him, and then nodded, feeling his brow furrow at the abrupt shift in atmosphere. He knew it was tense in this household–Sean had a temper that rivaled Hotstreak’s, sometimes. He could understand why Richie was so tense whenever he was home. He nodded again, and rose from the couch, grabbing his school bag.
“Well...I’m glad things will get better,” he said, shrugging it on. “I’ll see you, Monday, all right? And...as for other things...I’m sure things won’t be that hard. If...something of that...momentous proportion could happen, then...I”m sure anything can.”
Richie gave him a faint half smile, his left eye completely shutting with the action. “Thanks, Virgil. Thanks for being so...I dunno...yourself, I guess.”
“We gotta lotta things to cover, so you better be there, Monday,” Virgil warned, pointing at him as he headed toward the door with a wink.
Richie waved him off, then sighed as the door shut behind him. Sean walked into the living room, then, looking at him angrily. He felt himself tense as his father drew close, obvious waves of irritation shooting off him.
OooooooooooO
Talon looked away from her observation of the hospital, hearing the watery noises of Maria’s approach. She blinked wide eyes as Maria coasted over to her, looking incredibly down and weepy. Talon reached out to hug her with one arm, drawing her close for some comfort as Maria sidled up to her.
“You okay?” Talon asked. “He’s gonna live.”
Maria wiped her eyes. “Huh?”
“Francis...he’s going to live. Just gonna be there, for awhile.”
Maria stared at her, uncomprehending the reassurance, and then shook her head to show that she had no idea what was being said.
Talon dropped her arm from around her friend’s shoulders. “Ebon and his crew fucked him over, Maria. You haven’t heard?”
“No!” Maria stared at her in silence. “Just him?”
“Just him.”
“I...I never even...”
“You didn’t know? How could you not know?” Talon asked, looking at her closely. “It’s all over the city! Everyone’s talkin’ about it! They all–they takin’ bets on how long he’d last. I thought–I thought you knew that...”
“I was out of town!”
“Doin’ what, girl?”
“Just...taking space to breathe.” Maria turned her attention to County General, taking in the various lit windows and activity. One hand crept up to her chest, where she rubbed vaguely as a contemplative expression beset her face. “So...he got jumped, huh?”
“It weren’t like Ebon found him. The idiot walked up to Ebon. Like...like, I don’t know. Just askin’ for it. Like...like he knew what he was doing. Didn’t even try to pull shit.” Talon looked away, shaking her head. “I...don’t know what he was thinkin’, girl. Just...”
“Has anybody...seen him, yet?”
“No. They have the place shut down tight. Cuz he be goin’ back to jail, girl. So they got the place rigged for him. Ain’t no one get in without a bunch of shit going down, first.”
Maria stared at the hospital, then frowned. “I’ll go. I can get in and out.”
“They’ve got guards all over the place, Maria. You be careful, all right?”
“I’ll be fine. I just...I just want to see him. See him for myself. Thank you, Theresa. For telling me.”
Talon nodded, then watched as Maria liquified herself, the running puddle that was her friend creeping down the corner of the building. She sighed heavily, her head hanging as she wondered what had kept her friend from Dakota for the past week. Not that she was seriously angsting over it–everyone had their own issues and problems to work through. If Maria was going to tell her, she was going to tell her when she was ready.
Getting into the hospital was easy–Maria merely used the various water pipelines to push her way through, taking the easiest route to him. Along the way, she popped out of various faucets to check where she was, and finally found her way into the heavily guarded section of the ICU unit. It was as Talon said–there were many posted security guards around, all of them carrying various form of weaponry and there were fire extinguishers lining every available space. She smirked at their precautions as she took the correct pipe into the bathroom, forcing her liquified body out from the faucet, and solidifying within the comfortable darkness.
Gazing out, she could see him lying, motionless, in the bed ahead of her, various drips and wires hanging from his still form. She could hear his breathing, assisted by the oxygen being granted from the nasal cannula, and saw the faint rise and fall of his chest. Cautiously, she stepped out to search for various surveillance pieces, and saw the single camera pointed at him from her left. She could stand comfortably in the bathroom and not be seen.
She resigned herself to do so, staring at Hotstreak silently, taking in the numerous bandages and the single cast on his left leg. He did get busted up pretty badly...there were visible bruises on his face and arms. His eyebrows were furrowed together, as if he weren’t completely at ease. She crossed her arms across her chest, and frowned. She was still hurt over the truths she’d found out....she wasn’t sure how to react with him, now. All she knew was that she was set to come back to Dakota, and somehow...make peace. Because while he found some sort of perverse comfort in some boy, she would always still be around, ready to change his mind if he grew tired of that route.
She could wait...she had been waiting for a few years...what was a few more? As long as she got what she wanted, and if she continued to push at him in this manner, what good was that going to do? It would push him away, and she’d never have him. So...as she had in the past, when she found herself with various boyfriends...she was going to admire him from a distance. Keep up her antics with bothering him, reminding him that she was nearby–but she won’t push him again. She chewed at her bottom lip, contemplating things in silence. She had made up her mind–she could wait.
The door opened to the room, and she quickly placed herself out of sight, climbing behind the door and peering out through the crack between hinges. A doctor glanced at the chart hanging off the edge of the bed, smirked, and tossed the thing back down.
“You’re still alive, Stone!” he announced, dragging out a pen from his pocket and making some notes in his own notepad. “You’ll be heading back to jail when you’re fit enough to get out of the bed. So don’t get too comfortable. Because of people like you, we gotta waste time fixing you up while better people are getting hurt in worse ways. Hope you enjoy the stay. Won’t have anymore of this comfort where you’re going.”
The doctor chuckled and walked out, knocking on the main door to be allowed. When Maria heard him leave, she scowled, then drifted out from the door. She had nothing to fear from the guards outside, and she wanted to leave a little message.
She coasted out from the bathroom, ignoring the fact that the camera captured her in full view. She stopped at his bed side, and swept her hand through his hair, hearing the door open behind her.
“Be seein’ you later, okay?” she said gently, kissing the one spot on his forehead that wasn’t marred by bruises.
“Hey! You! Stop right there!”
“Just heal up. We’ll be waiting out there, for you, all right? I ain’t mad at you. I can’t stay mad at you for very long. Just know that when you get tired of that boy, I’ll be there to make you happy again. See you, Francis.”
“I said, stop right there! Don’t move!”
Maria straightened, and looked at the various guards that trained their weapons on her. She scoffed at their weaponry, shaking her head as she liquified. They weren’t sure how to stop her as she coasted out the main room, and into the bathroom, taking her escape route through the way she’d come in.
OooooooooooO
Virgil reclined against the bleacher above him, basking in the warm, spring sun. He was watching Daisy as she ran a few laps, the springtime air getting to her as it was to him. It had been a long, boring winter, and he was looking for things to start changing for the better. While the weather warmed, melting away all the snow that had gathered throughout Dakota, everyone’s attitudes were growing cheerful. Not everyone liked the winter weather.
Daisy was thinking of trying out for the track team, and was patiently training for the four hundred meter dash. She wasn’t much of an athlete, but she sure tried hard. He was just here to support her. During their months of dating, a lot of things had come to pass–she was more understanding and caring of his time spent with his best friend, and had learned to ‘share’ him. Virgil was embarrassed that she thought of it that way, but he had to admit that things worked out for the better.
His friendship with Richie took over where they left off–he learned to completely accept his best friend’s differences, finding himself wondering from time to time why it had bothered him so much. But, truthfully, it had taken time to get to this point. Where he could overlook his friend’s preferences as if they were nothing. He wasn’t a saint–there were things he couldn’t tolerate, but Richie worked with him on that.
The blond didn’t mention his involvement with others, but had assured Virgil that he’d give him a heads-up if things ever came to happen. While Virgil was, on one hand, relieved that he wouldn’t be hearing about him gushing about some ‘hot guy’, he was a little down for him. Richie continued being Richie, but there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes whenever such subjects came into play. He felt bad for his friend–Hotstreak had recovered from Ebon’s beating, and had spent some time in jail–before he grew ‘bored’ and broke out, causing his usual chaos and rampaging on the streets. Virgil had thought for sure that Richie was going to have problems fighting him as they had before the love affair–he’d watched their first battle since that affair, and saw both of them hesitate...but just for a moment. Then things returned to normal as Hotstreak insulted Gear, and Gear found delight to insult back and test some of his new toys on him. From the way they were acting, it was as if the two had never gotten close in the way that they had. They never showed any signs or forms of weakness against the other.
In a way, Virgil was relieved–but he was also down about it. He wanted his friend to be happy–just...just in uncomplicated ways. But things sailed clear from there. The never ending battle of good and bad continued on as before, and Richie never mentioned Francis Stone again. Even though he assured Virgil that he’d tell him if anything changed.
Everything had resumed back to normal–except whenever Ebon came into play, Static always found himself losing his jacket as Gear took over on it, acting like an insulted damsel in distress whenever they faced off. They laughed and joked about it, Richie giving light to the awkward situation, but Static grew a little more protective once he knew Ebon’s little fantasy. Such things were unimaginable to him, but Gear was uncomfortable with it, so he would abide by his friend and not his own feelings.
But things were...normal. Even looking up as they neared their senior year.
He looked up, grinning as his friend, Felix and Chuck hurried onto the bleachers, all three of them dressed for the warm weather, and having various Post-Its pasted all over them.
“Hey, V,” Richie greeted him, slapping a Post-It onto his forehead. “Oogling what you aren’t supposed to?”
“Hey, she promised to wear a sports bra...but it ain’t being very sporty.”
“Dude, I seriously cannot see Daisy like that,” Chuck said on a snort, sitting beside Virgil. “She’s like, every one’s kid sister.”
“You better see her that way!”
“We’re hitting the pool after school, man. Well, uh, right now,” Felix corrected, laughing. “Wanna go?”
“I’m not going,” Richie muttered. “I hate getting wet.”
“Stop being a puss! Just go!”
“Meow. Meeeowwwww...”
Chuck slapped a Post-It against Richie’s forehead, and the pair battled it out while Virgil kept an arm up, keeping them from bumping into him.
“You just gonna wait for Daisy, man?” Felix asked him, looking at him. “We’re gonna hit Pizza Shack afterward...promise. Onion rings...or–range sooo-dah....fries...c’mon! Bring Daisy along!”
“Think she’s on a diet–but we’ll hit it there. What time?”
“Maybe around six. OW! Mother fuckers!” Felix then roared, jumping onto Chuck’s back.
Richie kicked them away from him, and looked down at him questioningly. “You going to show up?”
“Yeah...I mean, after Daisy’s done, here.”
“Dude, seriously? It’s going to be cool. It’s Sundae Fridays! All the ice cream and syrup we can have...”
“I don’t want to be near you when that stuff settles into your system,” Virgil grumbled.
Richie laughed joyously, slapping the upside of his head. Virgil gave him a dead leg, then the pair relaxed as Chuck and Felix chased each other off the bleachers.
“What you have planned for this summer, Virg? I gotta get a job. I know I’ve been saying that for months, but I seriously need the funds to move out.”
“Eh...I’ve given thought about getting a job. Maybe we can look for one together?”
“Yeah. You applying for college, yet?”
“I’m going, fo’sure, to Dakota U. No doubts about it. With my Science smarts, I should be a shoe-in. You?”
“Naturally, V. Can’t leave ya behind. What good will that do, if my only source of entertainment is taken from me?”
“Issat that all I am to you, Richie Foley? Entertainment? I’m insulted.”
“You love it, V. You–OWWW!”
Virgil jumped, looking up at his friend as he rubbed the back of his head, glaring around him. “What? What happened?”
“Someone...threw somethin’. I’ll be right back, k? Hey, I’ll see you at Pizza Shack, all right?”
“You sure? You okay?”
“Yeah, it was just a pebble. See ya!”
Virgil waved as his friend grabbed his bag and hurried off the bleachers, scowling. He sat back in his reclining position, shaking his head. Richie hadn’t come out to anybody but him, and Virgil understood why. It was dangerous, revealing that sort of secret to those that weren’t very accepting or tolerant. He knew–he was his best friend, and he had a hard time accepting it. It took him a while! And even then, certain things made him uneasy...
But he loved his best friend–and he would continue to do so. He just had to accept that Richie valued things differently than he.
He sighed as he watched Daisy finish her laps. She waved at him from the track, shouting that she was going to change and would meet him in the front. He waved to signal that he got her message, and gathered his bag. Climbing off the bleachers, he sighed as he began the long trek to the front of the school.
He changed his mind about his destination, and switched course, intending on cutting a path through a hole in the chainlink fence that separated the parking lot, a byway that led to the baseball fields, and the street that led up to Dakota Union’s front entrance. It was a lot shorter than continuing around the length of the track, through the campus, and through the school.
But as he did so, he stopped short, eyes widening in surprise. He quickly crept the way he came through, muttering, “He needs to stop doing that. Guy can only take so much of seein’ him make out with that guy...”
Meanwhile, Richie was scowling as he rubbed the back of his head, guessing the direction the rock had been thrown. It hadn’t hurt too much–it was just surprising and unexpected. He was used to being picked on, but that didn’t mean he was going to take it quietly. He walked around the bleachers, dragging his backpack behind him when he heard a rustle of movement from behind a chainlink fence that had slates running through it. He glared over in that direction, and tossed his bag aside, climbing through the hole that allowed passage into a narrow byway that parted toward the school and to the street.
He paused upon seeing a familiar figure slouching against the fence, and felt a smile curl his lips. Since he wasn’t sure what to say, he said nothing as he ventured closer, a thrill of cheer and giddiness coursing through him. He stepped up to Hotstreak, who hid his familiar locks beneath a Yankees floppy hat, looking entirely out of character for his usual image. The older male looked down at him, a faint smile curling his lips.
Without thinking, Richie reached for him, curling his arms around his shoulders, kissing him without hesitation. He felt Hotstreak return the greeting, felt his hands creep around him to hold him close. Their kiss was filled with pent-up frustration and an eagerness to get reacquainted; their bodies pressed tightly together, refitting in ways they knew would work.
Richie’s mind was racing as to why Hotstreak was risking this, but he wasn’t going to complain. If he was willing to risk it, then he would, too. His fingers bunched with the material of Hotstreak’s shirt, his skin craving more contact and more feeling–he could feel the same response in the older male, feeling abnormally warm hands creep up the hem of his shirt, fingers spreading over his skin. He needed more of this familiar possession, but it was not the right place. Nor the right time. He felt Hotstreak pull his mouth from his, felt the older male’s face in his neck, feeling his arms tighten around him. He could sense and feel his loneliness and desperation, and felt his own surge forth, a wordless sound of despair leaving his lips as he buried his face into his shoulder. He quickly shoved his glasses aside, then resumed the position.
For several long minutes, they stood there, embracing each other tightly, ignoring all else that went on around them. When Richie felt him moving, his fingers bunched into more material, reluctant to part. Hotstreak’s hands moved out from underneath his shirt, stroking his back with urgent presses, lowering his head to meet Richie’s lips once more.
When the blond felt him pulling away, their lips hurriedly taking as much as they could, he released his tight grip on the older male’s shirt, but his hands trailed over his shoulders, his arms, and finally his hands as Hotstreak pulled completely away from him.
He watched the older male walk away from him, then, and couldn’t help but feel intensely sad that this was how it was going to be. Even with stolen moments like these, it wasn’t enough. He wished things were different, he wished things would work–but that was all the workings of forbidden love. Never completely happy, never completely easy.
He sighed, head hanging, then climbed through the hole in the fence to pick up his bag, to take his own path elsewhere.
This was just how things were supposed to be.
Chapter Twelve:
It was around four in the morning when Static finally broke away from his patrolling–he felt it was too late to see Richie, so he headed home. Since he was still on suspension until Monday, he caught up on some sleep, telling Robert that he'd meet him at the community center in a few hours to help out. Virgil decided that he was going to confront Richie, to make peace. If the guy wasn’t going to school today, then he was going to track him down. They needed to get things absolved, and they needed to repair their friendship. No more secrets; no more lies.
At Dakota Union, he waited at the front entrance, scanning the incoming crowd of students. When the first bell rang, Virgil decided to head to Richie's house. It was a twenty minute walk there, so he took his time by taking various side alleys and such, so Sharon or Robert wouldn’t catch him . When he arrived at the familiar two story house, he repressed a shudder. He hadn’t been back here since that time he’d met both Sean and Maggie, and he was really hesitant to do so. He didn’t want to meet with Sean, again, more than wary about what the man would do or say.
But the Corolla wasn’t in the driveway, so either he was gone, or the entire family was gone. Taking the chance, he hurried up to the house, glancing around himself. He could get away with doing Static things as Virgil, so he planned on sneaking into Richie’s room, to see if he were up there. When he looked up to the room overlooking the front, he realized something was missing; the balcony had been torn down, the telltale outline of where the beams had been nailed in obvious in the daylight. He made a face, looking around himself to see that a pile of wood had been settled along the side of the house.
Frowning, he used his powers of magnetism to cling to the gutter, tapping on the window and trying to peer inside. The blinds were drawn tightly, and he listened for any movement. Figuring that Richie wasn’t there, he sighed and dropped back to the ground.
He was heading out to the sidewalk to head to the community center when he heard the front door open, and his name called softly. He turned, shifting his backpack to see Richie standing there in the doorway, gesturing at him. Virgil hurried over, glancing around, and walked up the front porch. He looked at his friend, and grew startled with what he saw.
The remnants of a bruise left the area around his left eye reddish-brown, his eyelid shut halfway due to swelling. The one he had on his lip was faded to a slight brown, leaving that area and the one along his jawline a dingy color. His shoulders were heavily slumped, as if it took too much energy to keep them straightened. Also, on his left arm, was a green cast that extended from his knuckles to his elbow. He walked with a sort of stiffness reserved for restricted movement due to more injuries–there was just a depressed air about him that made Virgil feel extremely guilty as he shut the door behind him, glancing around cautiously.
“So...what’s up?” Richie asked him cordially, looking at him from over his shoulder.
“What happened to you?” Virgil asked, gesturing at the cast and giving him an anxious expression.
“Oh...uh...well, there was a parked car, me, and my scooter. Let’s just say the parked car wanted none of what I was giving him,” Richie said with a slight smile. Then he grew serious, giving Virgil a curious look. “What’s wrong?”
“I...I’m just wondering why you haven’t been in school,” Virgil muttered, his hands sliding into his pants pockets.
“Oh. Uhm...just...I’ve just been feeling ill, lately. My stomach...giving me problems. Might have an ulcer.”
Virgil shifted, then glanced around. “From him?”
Richie looked away, reaching up to brush at his uncombed hair. It looked like he was going to shut him out, so Virgil quickly added, “You’re depressed over him? Over...what...what happened?”
Richie dropped his hand, giving him a sullen look. “I know you don’t want to hear the gory details, Virg, so I won’t give. But, honestly–yes. I am quite down about things with him. But...we knew. What would happen–”
“Your boy got himself jumped by Ebon and his gang, last night,” Virgil said, looking away from him as he stared at the homey materials that made up Richie’s living room. He sensed his friend look up sharply, but didn’t want to see the expression there. “Funny thing, though. He was by himself. I wonder what he was thinkin’, doin’ that...just like...just like he waltzed right up to Ebon.”
“Was he...was he hurt?”
“He’s in intensive care, Richie. Down at County General. They have guards all over the place. Without his powers, he’s just...vulnerable like the rest of them. I don’t understand–”
“Hmm,” Richie muttered, turning away from him to sit down gingerly on the immaculate couch. Virgil turned to look at him, feeling his brow furrow. The silence between them was thick, and while Virgil didn’t want to, he didn’t understand why Richie wasn’t so concerned with what he was telling him. He figured that as soon as Richie heard about it, he would be flying out the door to be with him.
Richie caught his expression, reaching up to scratch at his jaw. “What?”
“I...I just thought you’d be more...concerned,” Virgil said vaguely, shrugging.
Richie shook his head, looking away from him. His expression turned contemplative and lost.
“I mean...don’t you want to–”
“Why are you being so concerned about him, Virgil? You hate him. He got jumped, he’s hurt–I thought you’d be celebrating it. Kinda like...he deserved it, anyway, right?”
He was right–Virgil did think that way. But his best friend mattered most, and he was trying to understand and offer solace, damn it! His lips tightened, and he turned away to look over the various family photos that were set systematically on the light colored walls. He heard Richie sigh and shift on the couch, and looked back at him, to see his head bent, forehead against his knee. His cast covered forearm wrapped around his leg to keep it in place, his other arm reaching down to fiddle with his bare toes.
The boy was dressed in what looked to be his pajamas–plain tee, sweats, bare feet. It looked as if he hadn’t tried putting himself back together again. It was depressing.
Virgil exhaled heavily, and dropped his backpack onto the floor, startling the other into looking up. Virgil took the seat next to him, his hands plopping uselessly into his lap. “Richie...I’m–I am trying to be understanding. I am trying hard to do this, to–to accept things, an’ try to move on. I miss my best friend! I miss him, Richie! I could stand right next to him, but he’s far away from me! I fucked up, Rich, I really did. I reacted in the worst possible way to that, an’–an’ I keep losing you because I don’t–I don’t understand what it is that has you all up on him! I–I–about this gay thing, too–I am....I am bein’ honest with you. I am tryin’ to communicate with you. I want you to understand that while I am uncomfortable with it, you’re still my best friend. You’re still the guy that puts away chili-cheese fries like they ain’t nothin’, and can’t eat Mexican grub cuz you stank people out within a fifteen mile radius of you!”
Richie chuckled and grinned, but the smile was once again lost as Virgil continued.
“I have to accept that you’ll like...guys the way I like girls. I have to accept that while I’m ooglin’ Tyra, you’re lookin’ at Leo, or–”
“Usher.”
“...Huh?̶ 1;
“I like Usher better than Leo. Better abs.”
Virgil blinked, then inched away with a look of disgust. Richie merely laid his head upon his knee, turning his face away from him as he chuckled lightly. Shaking his head, Virgil resumed his seat, hands out as he spoke.
“Anyway, above all that–! Richie, I...I said an’ did things that weren’t exactly best friend of the year material, an’ I know I helped push us apart with my attitude and my actions, but...I am trying, Rich. I am trying. It’s hard to do when you keep pushing me away. With all this pushing, I’m not surprised that we don’t know each other, anymore. That you turned into a stranger to me over the last...the last five months...four. Four months. An’ I continue to push you away because of Daisy, an’–a lot of things changed this year, and I don’t–I don’t want any more. I want you, my best friend, back. I want to be able to hang out with you, again, without havin’ to go through more lies and pushing! I was hurt, Rich, that you pushed me away! That you told me nothin’! An’, I admit, it was mainly my fault in doing this, cuz I acted like a jerk. And you knew me good enough to know this. And...I’m sorry. I’m really sorry!’
Virgil sighed heavily as he dropped his head, feeling as if most of the fight left him, then. Getting all those words out into the open left him with some relief–but he knew there were still more rocks in the road to encounter.
When Richie shifted again, looking at him tiredly, Virgil felt some more relief flood through him.
“It’s okay, Virg. It was my fault, too. For...all the right reasons. I didn’t want you feeling like I was... pushing you away in favor of him. I know how you felt about him. But I can’t change or stop the way that I feel about him. I just can’t. It’s not in my control. I can’t change what happened, or make stupid excuses for why I feel the way I had. I just...can’t. I understand that keeping things from you was the wrong thing to do, but you have to understand why I couldn’t! You know why.”
“...so...what is this?”
“What...is what?”
“We still good?”
“...Of course, Virgil.”
“No secrets?”
“...No. To...a certain extent.”
“Richie...”
“No, I’m serious, Virgil. You want me telling you what I–”
“Okay okay okay,” Virgil said quickly, holding out his hands. “Secrets to a certain degree are acceptable, as LONG as I have a gist of what they are. Just...give me warning.”
“...I will, V. Thank you for being...understanding, I guess.”
“Yeah...” Virgil shrugged, awkwardly reaching up to play with his dreads. He then looked at him again. “Care to share what you know? I mean...where’d you go? What happened, that night on the rooftop?”
Richie sighed, then shifted in his seat. “Got a while?”
“Yeah. I got all day for you, man. Still suspended from school. Let me in the know, so I know what I know.” Virgil shifted uncomfortably. “Start from the beginning...I...I kinda wanna know how this all started. From the beginning.”
“I...there really isn’t...from the very beginning?”
“When you an’–an’ him started...”
“Oh. Well...Virgil, you know everything about that. I told you everything. It was...it was confusing for us, both. It seemed that the more we talked, we...we had an understanding. And...and we were attracted to each other. I was more surprised than you were when he...he made the first move. But... everything was mutual. When he came back, yeah, we talked, an’–we...kinda resumed where we left off. I wanted to help him because he was trying really hard, V. To do right. But he was having a hard time with it, because everyone was pressuring him to just take up and resume his old ways. He had a chance, V–he’s capable of turning things around, to do good. But...I guess...peer pressure was just too much. He doesn’t have anything, Virgil. His credibility is important cuz that’s all he really has. And it meant a lot to him.
“We knew we couldn’t...be together. We knew that from the start. But you can’t stop two people from being attracted and caring for each other, V. Then...I know this is going to get disgusting, V, but you asked. Ebon...Before they went to jail, everyone kept mentioning that he had this...this dream of Gear. I know, I was disgusted, too. But...when he had me, he kept hitting on me. Kept...it was disgusting, and revolting. But...he has this thing for Gear. It’s gross. Before that night, I was doing my patrol, an’ I stumbled on them, accidently. Shiv and Talon attacked, but Ebon was doin’ something that I couldn’t make out. Anyway, Talon’s scream affected me so badly, that I felt like I was...overloaded. Y’know?”
Virgil nodded, picking at his jeans with an uncomfortable air as he listened.
“Everything in my mind just–just felt as if it all locked. I couldn’t process information, couldn’t function normally–I was helpless! And Ebon wanted to use that. To...to...do...whatever. I lost Backpack that night–which, by the way, I’m remaking–and those three kept him. They...they must have pressured Francis to come along to prove something, because he was there. He wouldn’t have done that because...because he just wouldn’t! But needless to say, Talon did her thing, and...and I don’t know what happened then. Just that...when I became conscious of things, you were taking me home.”
“He wouldn’t let Ebon near you.”
“What?”
“Hotstreak–he wouldn’t let Ebon near you. I thought that he was just–just fuckin’ around. Just... pulling at his strings, but...I...I understand, now.”
Richie pulled a shoulder into a slight shrug. “Anyway, the next thing I remember was that...he was taking me somewhere. Thinking about it, now, Ebon was probably going to retaliate in that aspect. Because of...of his continued theory that I, Richie, was his bitch. And...he wanted to retaliate. So, Francis...came and got me. So...so nothing would happen to me. He cared–cares–for me, Virgil. Like I do for him. It may not show, but he does. We were outside of Dakota to hide when he realized that doing this was...incriminating for both of us. That...it put both of us in danger. So...we came back, but...we knew...we couldn’t keep...seeing each other.”
Richie looked away, hugging his knee tightly. “I knew I grew to love him, V, and he felt the same way. It just...wasn’t the right sort that people accepted. And...it put us both in danger. He had more to lose than I...”
“He has nothing!”
“No, he has things, Virgil. Not much, but those things...that’s all he has.”
Virgil looked away, leaning away from him. He couldn’t understand Richie’s love for the older male–he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It was simply too fantastic, too far beyond him. Something unreachable and unfathomable. He couldn’t see past his own hate for the guy, and while he was...happy for his friend in ways that he would normally accept for those in love, he couldn’t accept and understand what had brought these two particular souls together.
He would try, though. For Richie. He would try.
“I...I see,” he muttered, his voice thick and low. “I mean...I can’t see it, but I...I see. Sorta like...like Romeo and Juliet.”
“But neither of us have contemplated suicide just to escape. That’s dumb.”
“I know, I know, but...just...two people from entirely different backgrounds gettin’ it? I mean...” Virgil shrugged. He was still new on how to address things.
For awhile, the two boys lost themselves to their own thoughts, until the front door opened. Virgil sat up quickly as Sean walked in, spotting them both. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Richie, and he glanced back at him, noting the petrified expression on his friend’s face. He looked back at Sean, who looked at him with a glance that suggested what he thought.
He muttered, “You’re grounded, Richie. You know the rules.”
“I...I’m sorry. V, I’ll...I’ll talk to you...at school Monday, all right?”
Virgil looked at him, and then nodded, feeling his brow furrow at the abrupt shift in atmosphere. He knew it was tense in this household–Sean had a temper that rivaled Hotstreak’s, sometimes. He could understand why Richie was so tense whenever he was home. He nodded again, and rose from the couch, grabbing his school bag.
“Well...I’m glad things will get better,” he said, shrugging it on. “I’ll see you, Monday, all right? And...as for other things...I’m sure things won’t be that hard. If...something of that...momentous proportion could happen, then...I”m sure anything can.”
Richie gave him a faint half smile, his left eye completely shutting with the action. “Thanks, Virgil. Thanks for being so...I dunno...yourself, I guess.”
“We gotta lotta things to cover, so you better be there, Monday,” Virgil warned, pointing at him as he headed toward the door with a wink.
Richie waved him off, then sighed as the door shut behind him. Sean walked into the living room, then, looking at him angrily. He felt himself tense as his father drew close, obvious waves of irritation shooting off him.
OooooooooooO
Talon looked away from her observation of the hospital, hearing the watery noises of Maria’s approach. She blinked wide eyes as Maria coasted over to her, looking incredibly down and weepy. Talon reached out to hug her with one arm, drawing her close for some comfort as Maria sidled up to her.
“You okay?” Talon asked. “He’s gonna live.”
Maria wiped her eyes. “Huh?”
“Francis...he’s going to live. Just gonna be there, for awhile.”
Maria stared at her, uncomprehending the reassurance, and then shook her head to show that she had no idea what was being said.
Talon dropped her arm from around her friend’s shoulders. “Ebon and his crew fucked him over, Maria. You haven’t heard?”
“No!” Maria stared at her in silence. “Just him?”
“Just him.”
“I...I never even...”
“You didn’t know? How could you not know?” Talon asked, looking at her closely. “It’s all over the city! Everyone’s talkin’ about it! They all–they takin’ bets on how long he’d last. I thought–I thought you knew that...”
“I was out of town!”
“Doin’ what, girl?”
“Just...taking space to breathe.” Maria turned her attention to County General, taking in the various lit windows and activity. One hand crept up to her chest, where she rubbed vaguely as a contemplative expression beset her face. “So...he got jumped, huh?”
“It weren’t like Ebon found him. The idiot walked up to Ebon. Like...like, I don’t know. Just askin’ for it. Like...like he knew what he was doing. Didn’t even try to pull shit.” Talon looked away, shaking her head. “I...don’t know what he was thinkin’, girl. Just...”
“Has anybody...seen him, yet?”
“No. They have the place shut down tight. Cuz he be goin’ back to jail, girl. So they got the place rigged for him. Ain’t no one get in without a bunch of shit going down, first.”
Maria stared at the hospital, then frowned. “I’ll go. I can get in and out.”
“They’ve got guards all over the place, Maria. You be careful, all right?”
“I’ll be fine. I just...I just want to see him. See him for myself. Thank you, Theresa. For telling me.”
Talon nodded, then watched as Maria liquified herself, the running puddle that was her friend creeping down the corner of the building. She sighed heavily, her head hanging as she wondered what had kept her friend from Dakota for the past week. Not that she was seriously angsting over it–everyone had their own issues and problems to work through. If Maria was going to tell her, she was going to tell her when she was ready.
Getting into the hospital was easy–Maria merely used the various water pipelines to push her way through, taking the easiest route to him. Along the way, she popped out of various faucets to check where she was, and finally found her way into the heavily guarded section of the ICU unit. It was as Talon said–there were many posted security guards around, all of them carrying various form of weaponry and there were fire extinguishers lining every available space. She smirked at their precautions as she took the correct pipe into the bathroom, forcing her liquified body out from the faucet, and solidifying within the comfortable darkness.
Gazing out, she could see him lying, motionless, in the bed ahead of her, various drips and wires hanging from his still form. She could hear his breathing, assisted by the oxygen being granted from the nasal cannula, and saw the faint rise and fall of his chest. Cautiously, she stepped out to search for various surveillance pieces, and saw the single camera pointed at him from her left. She could stand comfortably in the bathroom and not be seen.
She resigned herself to do so, staring at Hotstreak silently, taking in the numerous bandages and the single cast on his left leg. He did get busted up pretty badly...there were visible bruises on his face and arms. His eyebrows were furrowed together, as if he weren’t completely at ease. She crossed her arms across her chest, and frowned. She was still hurt over the truths she’d found out....she wasn’t sure how to react with him, now. All she knew was that she was set to come back to Dakota, and somehow...make peace. Because while he found some sort of perverse comfort in some boy, she would always still be around, ready to change his mind if he grew tired of that route.
She could wait...she had been waiting for a few years...what was a few more? As long as she got what she wanted, and if she continued to push at him in this manner, what good was that going to do? It would push him away, and she’d never have him. So...as she had in the past, when she found herself with various boyfriends...she was going to admire him from a distance. Keep up her antics with bothering him, reminding him that she was nearby–but she won’t push him again. She chewed at her bottom lip, contemplating things in silence. She had made up her mind–she could wait.
The door opened to the room, and she quickly placed herself out of sight, climbing behind the door and peering out through the crack between hinges. A doctor glanced at the chart hanging off the edge of the bed, smirked, and tossed the thing back down.
“You’re still alive, Stone!” he announced, dragging out a pen from his pocket and making some notes in his own notepad. “You’ll be heading back to jail when you’re fit enough to get out of the bed. So don’t get too comfortable. Because of people like you, we gotta waste time fixing you up while better people are getting hurt in worse ways. Hope you enjoy the stay. Won’t have anymore of this comfort where you’re going.”
The doctor chuckled and walked out, knocking on the main door to be allowed. When Maria heard him leave, she scowled, then drifted out from the door. She had nothing to fear from the guards outside, and she wanted to leave a little message.
She coasted out from the bathroom, ignoring the fact that the camera captured her in full view. She stopped at his bed side, and swept her hand through his hair, hearing the door open behind her.
“Be seein’ you later, okay?” she said gently, kissing the one spot on his forehead that wasn’t marred by bruises.
“Hey! You! Stop right there!”
“Just heal up. We’ll be waiting out there, for you, all right? I ain’t mad at you. I can’t stay mad at you for very long. Just know that when you get tired of that boy, I’ll be there to make you happy again. See you, Francis.”
“I said, stop right there! Don’t move!”
Maria straightened, and looked at the various guards that trained their weapons on her. She scoffed at their weaponry, shaking her head as she liquified. They weren’t sure how to stop her as she coasted out the main room, and into the bathroom, taking her escape route through the way she’d come in.
OooooooooooO
Virgil reclined against the bleacher above him, basking in the warm, spring sun. He was watching Daisy as she ran a few laps, the springtime air getting to her as it was to him. It had been a long, boring winter, and he was looking for things to start changing for the better. While the weather warmed, melting away all the snow that had gathered throughout Dakota, everyone’s attitudes were growing cheerful. Not everyone liked the winter weather.
Daisy was thinking of trying out for the track team, and was patiently training for the four hundred meter dash. She wasn’t much of an athlete, but she sure tried hard. He was just here to support her. During their months of dating, a lot of things had come to pass–she was more understanding and caring of his time spent with his best friend, and had learned to ‘share’ him. Virgil was embarrassed that she thought of it that way, but he had to admit that things worked out for the better.
His friendship with Richie took over where they left off–he learned to completely accept his best friend’s differences, finding himself wondering from time to time why it had bothered him so much. But, truthfully, it had taken time to get to this point. Where he could overlook his friend’s preferences as if they were nothing. He wasn’t a saint–there were things he couldn’t tolerate, but Richie worked with him on that.
The blond didn’t mention his involvement with others, but had assured Virgil that he’d give him a heads-up if things ever came to happen. While Virgil was, on one hand, relieved that he wouldn’t be hearing about him gushing about some ‘hot guy’, he was a little down for him. Richie continued being Richie, but there was a flicker of sadness in his eyes whenever such subjects came into play. He felt bad for his friend–Hotstreak had recovered from Ebon’s beating, and had spent some time in jail–before he grew ‘bored’ and broke out, causing his usual chaos and rampaging on the streets. Virgil had thought for sure that Richie was going to have problems fighting him as they had before the love affair–he’d watched their first battle since that affair, and saw both of them hesitate...but just for a moment. Then things returned to normal as Hotstreak insulted Gear, and Gear found delight to insult back and test some of his new toys on him. From the way they were acting, it was as if the two had never gotten close in the way that they had. They never showed any signs or forms of weakness against the other.
In a way, Virgil was relieved–but he was also down about it. He wanted his friend to be happy–just...just in uncomplicated ways. But things sailed clear from there. The never ending battle of good and bad continued on as before, and Richie never mentioned Francis Stone again. Even though he assured Virgil that he’d tell him if anything changed.
Everything had resumed back to normal–except whenever Ebon came into play, Static always found himself losing his jacket as Gear took over on it, acting like an insulted damsel in distress whenever they faced off. They laughed and joked about it, Richie giving light to the awkward situation, but Static grew a little more protective once he knew Ebon’s little fantasy. Such things were unimaginable to him, but Gear was uncomfortable with it, so he would abide by his friend and not his own feelings.
But things were...normal. Even looking up as they neared their senior year.
He looked up, grinning as his friend, Felix and Chuck hurried onto the bleachers, all three of them dressed for the warm weather, and having various Post-Its pasted all over them.
“Hey, V,” Richie greeted him, slapping a Post-It onto his forehead. “Oogling what you aren’t supposed to?”
“Hey, she promised to wear a sports bra...but it ain’t being very sporty.”
“Dude, I seriously cannot see Daisy like that,” Chuck said on a snort, sitting beside Virgil. “She’s like, every one’s kid sister.”
“You better see her that way!”
“We’re hitting the pool after school, man. Well, uh, right now,” Felix corrected, laughing. “Wanna go?”
“I’m not going,” Richie muttered. “I hate getting wet.”
“Stop being a puss! Just go!”
“Meow. Meeeowwwww...”
Chuck slapped a Post-It against Richie’s forehead, and the pair battled it out while Virgil kept an arm up, keeping them from bumping into him.
“You just gonna wait for Daisy, man?” Felix asked him, looking at him. “We’re gonna hit Pizza Shack afterward...promise. Onion rings...or–range sooo-dah....fries...c’mon! Bring Daisy along!”
“Think she’s on a diet–but we’ll hit it there. What time?”
“Maybe around six. OW! Mother fuckers!” Felix then roared, jumping onto Chuck’s back.
Richie kicked them away from him, and looked down at him questioningly. “You going to show up?”
“Yeah...I mean, after Daisy’s done, here.”
“Dude, seriously? It’s going to be cool. It’s Sundae Fridays! All the ice cream and syrup we can have...”
“I don’t want to be near you when that stuff settles into your system,” Virgil grumbled.
Richie laughed joyously, slapping the upside of his head. Virgil gave him a dead leg, then the pair relaxed as Chuck and Felix chased each other off the bleachers.
“What you have planned for this summer, Virg? I gotta get a job. I know I’ve been saying that for months, but I seriously need the funds to move out.”
“Eh...I’ve given thought about getting a job. Maybe we can look for one together?”
“Yeah. You applying for college, yet?”
“I’m going, fo’sure, to Dakota U. No doubts about it. With my Science smarts, I should be a shoe-in. You?”
“Naturally, V. Can’t leave ya behind. What good will that do, if my only source of entertainment is taken from me?”
“Issat that all I am to you, Richie Foley? Entertainment? I’m insulted.”
“You love it, V. You–OWWW!”
Virgil jumped, looking up at his friend as he rubbed the back of his head, glaring around him. “What? What happened?”
“Someone...threw somethin’. I’ll be right back, k? Hey, I’ll see you at Pizza Shack, all right?”
“You sure? You okay?”
“Yeah, it was just a pebble. See ya!”
Virgil waved as his friend grabbed his bag and hurried off the bleachers, scowling. He sat back in his reclining position, shaking his head. Richie hadn’t come out to anybody but him, and Virgil understood why. It was dangerous, revealing that sort of secret to those that weren’t very accepting or tolerant. He knew–he was his best friend, and he had a hard time accepting it. It took him a while! And even then, certain things made him uneasy...
But he loved his best friend–and he would continue to do so. He just had to accept that Richie valued things differently than he.
He sighed as he watched Daisy finish her laps. She waved at him from the track, shouting that she was going to change and would meet him in the front. He waved to signal that he got her message, and gathered his bag. Climbing off the bleachers, he sighed as he began the long trek to the front of the school.
He changed his mind about his destination, and switched course, intending on cutting a path through a hole in the chainlink fence that separated the parking lot, a byway that led to the baseball fields, and the street that led up to Dakota Union’s front entrance. It was a lot shorter than continuing around the length of the track, through the campus, and through the school.
But as he did so, he stopped short, eyes widening in surprise. He quickly crept the way he came through, muttering, “He needs to stop doing that. Guy can only take so much of seein’ him make out with that guy...”
Meanwhile, Richie was scowling as he rubbed the back of his head, guessing the direction the rock had been thrown. It hadn’t hurt too much–it was just surprising and unexpected. He was used to being picked on, but that didn’t mean he was going to take it quietly. He walked around the bleachers, dragging his backpack behind him when he heard a rustle of movement from behind a chainlink fence that had slates running through it. He glared over in that direction, and tossed his bag aside, climbing through the hole that allowed passage into a narrow byway that parted toward the school and to the street.
He paused upon seeing a familiar figure slouching against the fence, and felt a smile curl his lips. Since he wasn’t sure what to say, he said nothing as he ventured closer, a thrill of cheer and giddiness coursing through him. He stepped up to Hotstreak, who hid his familiar locks beneath a Yankees floppy hat, looking entirely out of character for his usual image. The older male looked down at him, a faint smile curling his lips.
Without thinking, Richie reached for him, curling his arms around his shoulders, kissing him without hesitation. He felt Hotstreak return the greeting, felt his hands creep around him to hold him close. Their kiss was filled with pent-up frustration and an eagerness to get reacquainted; their bodies pressed tightly together, refitting in ways they knew would work.
Richie’s mind was racing as to why Hotstreak was risking this, but he wasn’t going to complain. If he was willing to risk it, then he would, too. His fingers bunched with the material of Hotstreak’s shirt, his skin craving more contact and more feeling–he could feel the same response in the older male, feeling abnormally warm hands creep up the hem of his shirt, fingers spreading over his skin. He needed more of this familiar possession, but it was not the right place. Nor the right time. He felt Hotstreak pull his mouth from his, felt the older male’s face in his neck, feeling his arms tighten around him. He could sense and feel his loneliness and desperation, and felt his own surge forth, a wordless sound of despair leaving his lips as he buried his face into his shoulder. He quickly shoved his glasses aside, then resumed the position.
For several long minutes, they stood there, embracing each other tightly, ignoring all else that went on around them. When Richie felt him moving, his fingers bunched into more material, reluctant to part. Hotstreak’s hands moved out from underneath his shirt, stroking his back with urgent presses, lowering his head to meet Richie’s lips once more.
When the blond felt him pulling away, their lips hurriedly taking as much as they could, he released his tight grip on the older male’s shirt, but his hands trailed over his shoulders, his arms, and finally his hands as Hotstreak pulled completely away from him.
He watched the older male walk away from him, then, and couldn’t help but feel intensely sad that this was how it was going to be. Even with stolen moments like these, it wasn’t enough. He wished things were different, he wished things would work–but that was all the workings of forbidden love. Never completely happy, never completely easy.
He sighed, head hanging, then climbed through the hole in the fence to pick up his bag, to take his own path elsewhere.
This was just how things were supposed to be.