Monday, September 10th, 2012
The next day at school was pandemonium.
Kaspar, Justin, and Finn were the first ones on him, one question after the other flying out and landing without a concrete answer. More speculations hovered before them as they attempted to piece together the messy, complicated puzzle that was Tuct Side.
"He's the fall guy," Kaspar surmised as he leaned against his locker. "I'm sure of it. Probably a rookie wanting to get in."
"Nah," Justin spoke as his arms fumbled under his windbreaker, rubbing deodorant to whittle down the smell of smoke off him. "You have to get the shit beaten out of you for that. I don't think prison time was on the schedule."
Finn nodded in agreement. "Makes sense. What was he supposed to do from a cell?"
They would think that, but recent events have had West gain an interest in true crime. "I've been watching a bunch of gang documentaries lately, and I'm being real when I say that someone can still hold a lot of power even behind bars."
Kaspar's eyes narrowed as determination gleamed in them. "Which means that we have to eradicate every last vestige of the gang before we're done."
It was certainly a bold statement, but they had to remember that a few innocent souls were still a part of the gang they were chasing.
"But that's gonna take forever," Justin whined as he pushed his arms back into their sleeves. "I know I said I'd help, but I don't want this to be my whole life."
"Maybe it should be someone's."
West was surprised to hear that and looked closer at his cousin. "What? You thinkin' about joining the FBI or something?"
A sheepish expression crossed the redhead's face as pink stained his cheeks. "That… has crossed my mind a few times."
Justin chuckled as he looked up at the ceiling. "I can see it. Agent Kaspar "the Ghost" Dedekind! You'll never see him, but you'll definitely know he's there."
West and Finn laughed along with him as Kaspar's face reddened even more.
"Shut up."
The school day progressed, but it felt like every minute West was bombarded with a question.
"Did that guy really vandalize your house?"
"Is your dad gonna pay for someone to beat him up in prison?"
"Did you know the guy who arrested him?"
"How's your family doing?"
"Are you guys going to move or something?"
"Why did that guy go after you anyway?"
The interrogations seemed endless. It was what he got for being the son of a famous basketball player. It wasn't his first rodeo dealing with the endless stream of curious cats, but it sure was tiring enough. Third period was geometry, which was the class he shared with Neil. Usually, the lightning-eyed boy would be content to ignore West's presence a few desks over while the latter stole long gazes at his ex-Wildwood rival. However, ever since Isaak's birthday, both excitement and fear swirled within his stomach at how that would change.
At least, he hoped something would change. Neil tried to keep West out of his head but failed, right? That definitely meant something seeing as how the noirette was willing for more to happen.
As he waded in and plopped down in his seat, his eyes didn't move from the door. Even as the class started, his attention barely wavered. It was typical for Neil to be tardy. Why wouldn't he be when he rarely got in trouble for it? That anticipation slowly soured into disappointment as time went by. Forty-five minutes later, and there was no sign of his crush.
Disillusionment atop his shoulders, West raised his hand, cutting in between the teacher's lecture. "Restroom, please?"
"Of course, Mr. Kuttner," the middle-aged woman nodded before resuming without missing a beat.
West was out and sauntering down the hall in seconds, letting his discontent slump his shoulders and sap the confidence from his gate. Maybe the arrest made the previous night had an effect on Neil's life as well. It seemed far-fetched that Neil would know the man in custody, but he couldn't think of anything else outside of wanting to flaunt his ability to do whatever the hell he wanted. West hoped to God the reason wasn't that Neil was having second thoughts about everything.
His mood flickered between hope and doubt as he pushed the bathroom door open.
And then blanked out altogether when the object of his lust stood bent at the sink, his hands wet and scrubbing at his face.
A fire ignited within West's stomach as he took in noirette's form. It wasn't fair how he looked good in practically anything. Even in something as simple as a red hoodie, jeans, and classic sneakers. The blond's tongue felt heavy in his mouth, keeping him from expressing his sudden relief and growing excitement while he watched Neil slowly straighten his posture.
That heat was doused in ice-cold water when West finally stood before him face-to-face.
The team captain was taken back to the time he was caught behind Wildwood by Neil and Jorge. West remembered the discoloration hidden by the polo shirt Neil wore. It was a bruise. West had no doubt about that now. And now, black and blue decorated Neil's face like splotches of paint on a piece of paper. Without the fog of desire blurring his vision, he got a better look at his rival. He wasn't damaged to all hell, but the split lip and the swelling left eye looked painful enough. Not only that but the knuckles of his fingers were scabbed over as if he had been punching a stone wall. Although Neil didn't seem to be affected by any of it, his brows lifting slightly at West's dropped jaw.
"D-Dude… you…" West stammered, his steps toward the other boy shaky and hesitant.
Neil grinned as he tilted his head back. "Don't worry 'bout all this, Flower Boy. I won the fight."
"But you-"
"I ain't shittin' ya when I say that you should take a look at the other guy."
That arrogant smirk, while split and bleeding, still worked wonders, West feeling a different type of swelling down below. Even bruised, the lightning-eyed boy was a sight for the blond's poor, sore eyes. However, it wasn't enough to wipe away the worry bubbling underneath.
"Your lip is still bleeding," West marched past Neil and toward the metal cabinet that held the spares of tissue paper, opening the bottom door to take out the Kleenex wet wipes. "Hold on."
Neil chuckled as he waited. "You gonna be my nurse now, Flo?"
West snorted as he trudged closer to his rival, ignoring the quickening beat of his heart when he stepped into the other boy's heat.
"If you're not going to worry about it…"
"Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours, man," that smug smile remained on his face. "This'll all be healed up by the time I get you at the Mug."
West snorted as he began wiping at the lingering blood on his rival's bloody face. "I'm not worried about that. It's just…"
He faltered, not wanting Neil's ire about butting into business that had nothing to do with him.
"Out with it," the noirette muttered impatiently.
Fuck it.
"I… You remember back over the summer? You and Hang- your cousin saw me hanging around at Wildwood? I saw the bruise there, man. I saw it but I didn't say anything. And then your mother shows up at school all of a sudden and starts raving like a lunatic. And at the party-"
West was so concentrated on his rambling that he failed to notice Neil's approaching face until it was too late. Not that he would have been able to move, for Neil placed a hand on the back of West's head and slammed his lips onto the blond's, fusing their mouths together in a kiss that sapped the air from both their lungs. Their tongues were on each other in an instant, wrestling each other for dominance. West's body slightly moved forward, whimpering softly as the hardness in his khaki pants smashed against the steel in Neil's jeans. The rich taste of the lightning-eyed boy's lips mixed in with metal, and he devoured it all.
Whatever this would have progressed into next, West didn't think he would have cared. However, it was put to a pause when Neil backed away, his hand still clenched in West's hair.
Neil laughed breathily. "Shit, Flo. How often do you get laid? You are way too wound up for the school's golden boy."
West scoffed. "Not as much as you are right now."
That got out another snicker, the smile brightening on his face. "Holy hell, Flower Boy. Snark looks a bit good on you. You're right, though. It's wrong of me to say that when I've taken your place at the top, yeah?"
"Come on, dude," the blond rolled his green eyes, trying his best to play off what just happened a few seconds ago.
At that moment, Neil started walking backward, and West almost let out a whine for the loss of his body heat.
"I don't think either of us is gonna last five days. We're just going to have to wait and see who breaks first. But when your pants get too tight, text me and I'll see if I can do anything to loosen 'em up for ya."
He wanted that right now, but he knew Neil was challenging him. The noirette was turning him into a dick-crazed fool. Maybe finding a girl would curb that ailment for a little while.
"Maybe you will first," West huffed.
"Maybe," Neil grinned as he pressed his back onto the restroom door. "Also, do your boys know 'bout us?"
West blinked. "Huh?"
"I mean that time at your bro's party."
"Oh. No. You'd probably get angry otherwise."
Neil chuckled. "Nah. Not really, but Fire-crotch, though…"
There was no way in hell Kaspar would let him live if he found out that his cousin and his worst enemy were getting intimate. The fallout from that realization would be catastrophic.
"That's one of the main reasons," West nodded solemnly. "He's very smart, so he'll figure it out on his own eventually."
"But until then, test how wide you can get that sweet mouth of yours to open," Neil winked before exiting the restroom altogether, leaving a red-faced, heavily breathing team captain behind.
West's mind was spinning for the rest of the day. He no longer bothered to answer the questions thrown at him from the crowd, trying to work out just what happened to Neil. Was it Javier? It's been pretty established that there was something wrong with that guy considering the fact that he beat his girlfriend and used her as the idea of a sale for other college-aged boys. Or maybe it was his mother, the crazy, drugged-out rat of a lady that showed up with demands during school.
And that kiss. That was no ordinary kiss. How far will Neil be willing to take things? Was it possible that they could probably…? No. It was a pipe dream, but something told West that his rival wouldn't be too averse to the idea. Or maybe that was his heart talking. He couldn't let it do that.
West was stuck inside his own head until study hall, the last period of the day, when Finn poked at his side. He and Henry had been speaking next to him, but the blond had been paying no attention. Snapping his eyes to the two beside him, he saw both of them gazing back at him, Henry's phone in his hand.
"You alright, man?" Henry spoke.
"Yeah. Just thinking," West mumbled, looking down at his desk.
"Well, this is something that you'll want to see, dude," Finn said.
West looked back up at his friend, noticing the ever-so-slight waver in his voice. It was accompanied by the alarm screaming behind the ebony-haired boy's dark eyes. Something was freaking Finn out again and West was worried he was going to have another panic attack.
"What is it?" the blond leaned over.
Henry answered him, eyes on his phone. "You know how my twin sisters got married an' all, yeah? The guys seemed cool when I met them, but they got these weird-ass tattoos on their hands."
"Weird, how?"
Finn beckoned toward Henry's phone. "You'll know it when you see it."
Henry spun his phone around and shoved it in West's face, who peered closely. The Kessler twins were as gorgeous as ever, both blonde and radiant in their white dresses. Their husbands beside them were polar opposites being that they had dark hair, dark skin, and projected an obvious "bad boy" vibe even in their tuxedos. Nothing seemed off about the picture at first glance. But then, West looked at the hands.
He paled. "Holy fuck."
That got eyes on him from the rest of the class, including the teacher.
West sat back in his seat and forced a charming smile. "Sorry, everyone."
He was lucky the teacher was one of his football coaches, who resumed reading whatever he was reading on his computer without a word.
"That was the symbol we saw on the tree," Finn whispered harshly. "And that symbol on the guys' jackets that one time near the new construction."
Between their knuckles and wrists, that purple symbol laid bare. It was a bit cut off from the end of the tux's sleeve, but there was no mistaking it when he saw it. It was stamped on both their hands.
"Wait, what?" Henry gazed back and forth between them. "What're you guys talkin' about?"
West shook his head. "We'll fill you in later, man. Do you mind if you can send those pics to me?"
"Uh, I mean, sure," the brawny junior blinked as he tapped away at his phone to do just that.
"Thanks, Hen," West smiled at him in appreciation before turning to Finn with a serious frown, murmuring, "Let's talk after."