RABBIT HOLE-D

Before anysensations of emotion, Virgil saw the picture and immediately thought: They’re going to make me clean that uptomorrow.

“Except that’s not what that means, and you and I both know it.” This was barely worth having to be within earshot of whatever godawful music the janitor was drowning himself in, but in the name of justice, Casey persisted. Mostly because this was his lunch period and he didn’t have anything better to do at the moment, but still. It was necessary.

“If you weren’t this cute I’d be so irritated with you,” Oliver said honestly and smiled as Casey started retrieving back into his cave of solitude. “Horrible customer. Save me a seat in American Literature tomorrow.” With the conversation obviously at an end, Oliver started walking backwards, keeping his eyes on Casey till the last possible moment. ”Least you can do,” he grinned and had to spin around. “And don’t stare at my ass.”

The compliments had Casey making a face in disgust. Damn powers of attraction had probably finally cracked through the dense surface of Oliver’s brain and made every interaction Casey was bound to have with him from now on ten times worse. Fantastic. “Oh, I will,” he retorted, giving the other a disapproving once-over. “It just won’t be next to me.” And, with that, he retreated back into the comfort of his room to finish enjoying his goddamn brownie.

Oliver was rapt. For once he was trying to understand, but the process very much hurt his head. “What innuendos? I think you’re hot, okay, and I can’t help if it shows, but what else?” Arms crossed in front of his chest, body and mind instinctively getting defensive. Oliver pushed himself off the wall and a little away from Casey. “It was a peck on the lips, completely innocent. While your little stunt had me receive blowjob messages for two weeks.”

“Good. Maybe now you’ll finally realize how it feels to constantly receive something you never asked for.” Casey didn’t feel sorry for Oliver in the slightest. Maybe he felt a little apologetic about slapping his bruised face way back when, but he wouldn’t have done it if the other hadn’t made a comment about getting a lap dance out of him. His outbursts weren’t for nothing contrary to what Oliver had deluded himself into believing. After a long bout of silence as Casey nibbled away a corner of his brownie, he inched back slightly into his room. “You can go now, it’s not like I’m tipping you.”

“The history where you slapped me?” Oliver snorted, looking over Casey’s head and into his room. No full leather outfits and butt toys (not in view anyway). ”Sure, I can see how your safety is at stake.” When he looked back at Casey, he saw the other’s eyes on him, careful and guarded. Aw shucks. Just when he thought they were making progress. “What about me makes you so uncomfortable?”

How obtuse could one person be? Casey was starting to wonder whether Oliver had narcissistic personality disorder or some kind of mental illness that rendered him absolutely incapable of recognizing his own faults and mistakes. “Where do I start?” He deadpanned, swallowing a bite of his brownie with a grimace. “The constant innuendos or the fact that you kissed me in a public place and wouldn’t let me push you away?” Being a slut didn’t mean he deserved to be treated like one.

Did Virgil reallyneed to be hanging out in the janitorial closet on his day off? Leo’s loungedidn’t have any privacy—the common area even less. Being cooped up in his room washis usual plan, but even that was getting a bit tiring. Justifiably, the main closet was almost like an office—he’dstolen a few wayward chairs to spruce the place up and to give him a footrestwhenever he felt like getting through a few comic books.

It should be noted that if Casey Wright were ever to come to the janitor for something, it wouldn’t be a personal matter. After the incident in the hallways of Ignis housing, Casey wasn’t exactly keen on the other---who needed him when you had jocks to pick up trash for you, anyway? No, the only gain he’d get from this is seeing the janitor’s face turn bright red with embarrassment and/or shame. Whichever came first. 

What? No comeback? Hell has truly frozen over. Tis a new day. He’s about to mutter out a gee, thanks or something like that until Casey reaches for the damn towel. That move causes Ashe’s attention to snap up to the ceiling like a reflex because he will not play his game. Nope. Not today, Satan. Eyes averted, that t-shirt to the face basically comes out of nowhere and he has to think fast to catch it before it hits the ground. 

The only time Casey enjoyed wearing boys’ clothes was when he took them from an actual boy. Ashe, though not technically someone Casey even considered human, was not an exception to these circumstances. He let the towel drop from his shoulders, trying Ashe’s hoodie on for size and taking note of the way it felt against his bare skin. Soft, went down to his mid-thigh, didn’t smell like weed---it’d do. Nodding to Ashe’s soaking pants, Casey bit his lip to keep himself from laughing. “What about you? Gonna risk trench crotch or make a run for it à poil?”

Taste test was over and done with, but Oliver remained dangerously close to Casey, leaning against the door frame and watching the other boy finally master up the confidence to take a bite himself. It was kind of like being around a deer, if Oliver had to compare the experience. One wrong move and Casey would bolt. “I don’t know. The same kind of crazy people who throw away a bag of awesome food for no good reason but their paranoia.” Oliver grinned. “Not going to invite me in?”

Casey should have known Oliver wouldn’t leave him alone after bringing him something. Fuck everyone else for not offering to bring him a brownie. Also fuck himself for letting hunger overrule his judgement. “Considering our history, I don’t really feel safe inviting you into my room,” he replied, eyeing the other cautiously as he took another bite. “Don’t you have an entire swim team you can go make uncomfortable?”

“Honestly, you give me too much credit,” Oliver put one arm on the wall next to the door and leaned down for a bite, while the brownie was still in the cheerleader’s hands. “Harmless,” he announced, chewing around the food. 

Visibly shrinking back, Casey looked on with caution as Oliver stooped down for a bite of his brownie. He almost expected the other to start coughing and grasping at his throat, but when Oliver retracted with nothing more than a blink, he couldn’t tell whether he was satisfied or disappointed. “Better safe than sorry,” he murmured before taking a bite of his own, careful this time not to let out a noise of contentment despite how much he wanted to. “Who invented the concept of dieting? ‘Cause they’ve obviously never tried one of these.” 

@caseyswright

Catching the brownie in one hand, Casey rolls his eyes, standing in the doorframe so Oliver doesn’t get the idea that he’s welcome inside. "Peace denied,” he mutters, peeling back the cling wrapping before catching himself. “Wait. Try some, I still wanna make sure.”