Author's Note: I know I've gotten down on fanfic authors who write PWPs, and I'd like to apologize profusely for writing one myself. ^^;; I couldn't help it! A plot bunny took over my brain! However, I ~tried~ to imbue this story with a minimal plot, so perhaps it won't be quite so unbearably pointless. Maybe... ^^;;

...

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Big Wolf on Campus" and I am not making any money whatsoever off of this story. It's just a happy little fiction for myself and others like me to drool over, because we all love the idea of two hot guys boinking. ::leer::

~*~*~*~

D*U*S*T*E*D

~*~*~*~

"Freaker!" Becky shouted down the stairwell.

"What?" Merton shouted back, not bothering to look up from his computer screen. He figured he'd have to vow to stay downstairs while his sister's friends were over or something similar. He rolled his eyes at the thought. Becky was so shallow.

"You got a package in the mail," she said instead. He perked up.

"It's finally here!" he murmured to himself before raising his voice again. "Bring it down!"

"I'm not your slave! Come get it yourself," Becky replied waspishly.

"Come git it yerself," Merton mocked in a nasal falsetto, too softly for Becky to hear. Childish? Who, him? Nah. Still, he got up out of his chair and trekked upstairs to retrieve his package, his spirits rising. Becky was waiting for him with it at the top of the stairs. It was medium-sized and wrapped in black paper with silver writing on it, tied with a silver cord, and Becky held it as if it would come to life and bite her arms off. Happily, he took it from his sneering sibling.

"What the hell is it, anyway?" Becky asked as he turned to go back downstairs.

"It's an Occult Grab-Bag I bought on E-Bay," Merton explained cheerfully. "Guaranteed to contain at least three items of esoteric interest and value or your money back! I can't wait to see if I got a cyclops's eye, because Vincent in my Gothic Fantasy Guild got one and he's been lording it over all of us at the meetings - "

"Wait," Becky said, holding up a hand. "I didn't really care."

Merton made a face at her and when back to his Lair. Once the door to the upstairs was safely shut, Merton put the package down on his desk and debated how to open it. He was torn between getting out his ritual knife to do the job with proper reverence and just tearing the paper off like a kid on Christmas. After a short inner struggle, he opted for the second choice, which was far more emotionally satisfying after waiting a month for it to come.

Inside the black paper was a black box, which opened to reveal a mass of black packing peanuts. These he swept impatiently out of the way, digging in to find his occult treasures. His hand had just closed on something cloth-covered and kind of squashy when he heard the outside door open.

"Hey, Merton!" Tommy Dawkins greeted, loping in with a six-pack of coke in one hand and a bag containing movie rentals and chips in the other. "Ready for movie-night? I brought your favorite!"

"You mean you got 'Attack of the Killer Mutant Thing from Beyond the Moon?'" Merton asked, eyes getting wide and a huge grin wreathing his face. His night was going so well!

"Okay, maybe not ~that~ favorite," Tommy admitted. Merton's face fell until the football-player added quickly, "But I ~did~ rent 'Mystery Science Theater 3000: the Movie.'"

"Cool! But first let me take a look at what I have here," Merton said, pulling out a small brown sack that felt filled with sand. This he examined for a moment before he set it aside to search the packing peanuts for more treasure.

"What's that?" Tommy asked.

"An Occult Grab-Bag I ordered on E-Bay," Merton said, dropping the rest of his explanation to pull out a wooden Tiki statue. "The trinkets I get in here should keep me busy for some time. It'll be fun figuring out what all these things do."

"Don't they give you instructions?" Tommy asked, picking up the sack and opening the drawstrings to peek inside.

"Nope! That's the fun part. You get to do all your own research and experimentation. Isn't that cool?" Merton said, setting a crystal-inlaid ivory wand carefully on his desk.

"Yeah, cool. But don't you think that with all the crap we get into that - you know - you'd be ~busy~ anyway?" Tommy wondered.

"Well, yeah. But ~that's~ all in a day's work for us by now. I need something to keep my skills sharp between our little adventures, don't I?" Merton explained, taking the last item - a flat gray stone the size of a post-it note with runic carvings - and laid it next to the other strange objects.

"Have you looked at this powder stuff yet?" Tommy asked, carefully tipping some into his hand. It was very pink and sparkly. "It's girly."

"Tommy! Occult powders ~aren't~ girly. They aren't manly, either. They're very powerful and you shouldn't touch them if you don't know what they do. It could've absorbed straight into your skin and turned you into a frog for all you knew!" Merton scolded.

"Well, it hasn't done anything yet so don't get uppity," Tommy replied, sniffing the small pile in his palm carefully.

"Cut that out and put it back in the bag," Merton commanded, then noticed the strange look Tommy had on his face. The Goth felt his stomach do a flip-flop. "Oh God, what is it? Do you feel something, Tommy? Is the powder having some kind of affect on you?"

"Uh - yeah - ah... it's...ah... making me - ah-," Tommy broke off, his face twisting.

"What?" Merton nervously hung on Tommy's every word.

"KAAACHOOOO!!"

*~*~*

Pink dust flew everywhere, and soon both boys were helpless with sneezing fits. Merton sneezed so hard he lost his balance and fell forward, straight into Tommy, who had no choice but to catch him. Then the pink cloud began to flow in reverse, getting sucked back into the small brown sack with a hissing sound. When the air finally cleared, Merton looked up at Tommy, intending to scold. Tommy looked down at the same moment to apologize.

Their eyes locked, and a strange rippling feeling passed through both of them, as if the ground had suddenly given way beneath them. It passed too quickly for them to really register it, and if they had, they might have mistaken it for the dizziness that sometimes follows violent sneezing. The strange thing was, neither felt as if he could look away, or speak. Silence stretched a moment, then two, and the air between them filled with a strange, unfamiliar intensity. Tommy realized with a slight shiver that he could feel Merton's breath on his neck. This sensation snapped him out of it.

"Sorry," he said, looking down at the floor and shuffling his feet.

"Never do that again," Merton warned forcefully, seeming not to notice the slight blush on Tommy's cheeks . "Though I'm kinda pissed. I mean, sneezing powder? In an ~Occult~ Grab-Bag? That's just so... so... I got gypped!"

"Sorry," Tommy apologized again.

"It's not your fault," Merton sighed a little downhearted sigh, but perked up a second later. "Let's just watch the movies."

"Okay."

"Um, Tommy? You wanna let go?"

"Huh?" The football player suddenly realized he was still holding Merton. In fact, they were pressed flush against each other. He hastily let go and backed off a few paces, feeling his face redden more. "Sorry, dude."

"No hard feelings," Merton said, crossing to the television and VCR, videos in hand, while Tommy went to shut off the lights. As the goth fast-forwarded through the previews and opening credits, Tommy sat on the small couch, opening the chips and a can of Coke. He watched as Merton got up an sat down next to him as the movie began to roll. For some reason, neither scooted to the corners of the couch as per usual. They sat inches from each other, close enough to feel the other's body heat. Strangely Tommy realized that it didn't bother him as much as it would have had Merton been any other guy, but he shrugged it off as an effect of having survived countless near-death encounters with the goth. After all, being comfortable with someone was all about trust, and who did Tommy trust if not Merton?

Merton's train of thought was running on a similar track, so it didn't particularly bother him when Tommy's arm landed on the back of the couch behind him. Neither even noticed when this arm curled around Merton's wiry shoulders. It seemed only natural when Merton instinctively leaned into this contact. About halfway through the film, Merton's head rested on Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy had to get up to use the bathroom. As soon as he stirred, he realized the position he and Merton had somehow gotten into. Apparently so did Merton, because he glanced around and started a bit.

"Um," said Tommy, feeling very awkward indeed as they hastily separated themselves. He didn't say anything else as he could tell Merton was blushing, even in the dim light. He made his way to the bathroom in the lair quickly, and after he was finished, he stayed a little longer to stare at his reflection.

What the hell just happened? Both he and Merton were straight, right? So, how had they ended up cuddling on Merton's couch? Tommy ran nervous fingers through his short hair. Well, it wouldn't be so far-fetched to believe Merton was gay; after all, it was what the entire school believed regardless of the obvious proof to the contrary. Therefore, it also wasn't hard to believe that Merton could have a thing for Tommy. After all, most of the female student body worshiped him; why wouldn't a gay boy? But Merton was his friend, so he had to be careful in how he rejected him.

But the thing was, he wasn't sure about the rejection part. Strange as the situation was, he hadn't exactly been disgusted or repulsed. In fact, from the automatic responses his body had made without his mind's consent it seemed that he was quite the opposite. But... this was Merton. Merton, who was a guy. A very good friend, yes, but ~just~ a ~friend.~ That was what Tommy had always thought before, anyway. His head was starting to hurt.

*What the hell is going on?* he silently asked his mirror-self.

He left the safe solitude of the bathroom reluctantly, and when he sat back down both he and Merton hugged separate arms of the couch, neither looking at each other. Tommy's mind was racing, and his heart sort of skipped a beat whenever he stole a glance at the other boy, who's gaze never left the television screen. Why were Tommy's palms sweating like he was on a date with Lori? He looked over at Merton again, only to meet the goth's blue eyes. Merton turned away almost immediately.

"I'm going to go make some popcorn," he announced to his shoes as he stood and rushed to the stairs. Tommy opened his mouth to say he was fine with just the chips, but closed it again without speaking. It was kind of a relief to have Merton out of his sight because now he was starting to have... disturbing thoughts. About Merton. Which was wrong on so many different levels, and it was probably better not to have Merton around when he was trying to not think about what he was thinking about.

Too soon, Merton wandered back downstairs, a steaming bag of popcorn in his hands. He set it down on the open cushion space between them and began munching on it. Not even Tommy's iron self-control could win out against the enticing smell, of popcorn, and he abandoned the chips in favor of the time-honored movie snack. The bag was eaten in silence, and soon Tommy was feeling through the old maids to find the last handful of popped kernels. Merton, apparently intent on the movie, automatically reached inside the bag without noticing Tommy's hand already inside.

The contact of their flesh sent electric shivers up and down Tommy's spine, and he became alarmed. Okay. That was definitely ~not~ supposed to happen. Something here was very off. And the jock had a sinking idea why.

"Merton," he said, and the smaller boy jumped. "Um. I think we should look up exactly what that powder is."

Merton turned to blink at him slowly, as if he hadn't heard what he had expected to hear. Then he smiled in obvious relief. "Oh yeah! The powder!"

The goth sprang up and turned on the lights, hurrying to his bookshelf and pulling down musty grimoires until he had a stack that was almost too tall for him to see over. Tommy went to help carry them to the desk, and then Merton got out a particularly large one that seemed to be written in Latin. Tommy hovered over Merton's shoulder, peering at the hand-written letters doubtfully. Then he realized just how close he was to Merton again, close enough not only to feel the heat but to smell the gel in the other boy's hair and his faint aftershave. And those not-right thoughts were back, stronger than before. Tommy stepped back and grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut to try and block out the images.

After a few minutes of desperate page-flipping, skimming, and muttering to himself, Merton made a victorious noise. Tommy managed to win out over the improper fantasies that were starting to form in his mind, and he once again bent over Merton's shoulder.

"What? What is it?"

"According to this book, the powder is an insidiously potent-," Merton began, then paused to swallow nervously.

"A potent ~what~?" Tommy asked, temper frayed from having to beat down his hormones.

"Aphrodisiac," Merton squeaked, then read hurriedly and emotionlessly through the rest of the paragraph. "It's called Eros' Revenge. Victims become enchanted if they inhale the dust and become thoroughly infatuated with the first living thing they see. The desire for the object of their affection will grow more and more intense the longer the curse goes on. There are only two cures: consummation or death."

Tommy digested this with a feeling of horrified shock overcoming him. "C-consummation?" He wasn't even embarrassed at the way his voice cracked.

Merton was turning an interesting color of purple. He groaned in misery as he nodded, then laid face down on the book, burying his head in his arms. Tommy staggered back a couple paces, trying to think. Consummation. Christ. The only way to get rid of the curse was to give in to it? That didn't add up. There had to be a way around it, for sake of both their sanity. He couldn't... not with ~Merton~, of all people! Why couldn't it have been Lori? Stacey? Hell, it could have been a member of the girls' field hockey team, just not Merton! They were best friends, and they weren't gay!

Tommy sat down heavily on the floor. "Shit."

"I ~told~ you to be careful with that powder," Merton reproached from where he was hunched over. "But noooo, why would anyone listen to me? After all, I only have been doing occult research for the last eight years of my life."

There was nothing Tommy could really say to that. "Sorry."

Merton just snorted. Tommy frowned and glared at the other boy's profile.

"So," he said after a long silence. "What are we going to do?"

"I dunno," Merton replied after a shorter pause, then sighed and shifted. He sat up, staring down at the book and running his hands through his hair. "Okay. Here's an idea. It says 'consummation of desire,' but it also says that the desire increases if we let it slide. So. Um. Right now, the, um, desire is pretty small. So to consummate the desire, we'd, um, probably only need to do something... small. Nip it in the bud, so to speak."

Tommy thought this over with a frown. There was nothing really wrong with the theory, but it would still require them to... do something. Together. Something like the not-right thoughts in his head were suggesting with increasing urgency. But, he reasoned, which would he rather do: something little now, or something in the unspecified future that was too big for him to even name, much less envision himself actually doing.

"Uh, yeah. That sounds like it might work," he agreed. Neither boy moved. Tommy cleared his throat. "So, um. What do we do?"

"Do I have to come up with everything?" Merton snapped peevishly.

"Geez, sorry," Tommy apologized insincerely. He sighed huffily, rolling his eyes. "So. I'll just. Um. K-kiss you?"

Merton nodded without looking over at him. With another frown, Tommy got up on his knees and sort of scooted over to the computer chair, turning it so Merton was facing him. Merton was the color of cherries, and the football player knew that he must be reaching a similar shade, judging from the heat in his cheeks. He reached out a slightly damp and shaking hand to cup the base of Merton's skull and pull the pale boy forward.

They hesitated about an inch apart, both with their eyes closed, concentrating on how this was ~not~ feeling good, that this was ~not~ something they wanted to do. It was just a way to get rid of the most embarrassing curse ever cast upon either of them. Tommy was not marveling at the texture of Merton's hair under his fingers. Merton was not leaning into the touch. Certainly neither was shivering from the sensations of heated breath on their faces and necks, and neither licked their lips in anticipation.

Tommy closed the gap, unable to stand the tension. Tentatively, he kissed Merton, who kissed back just as hesitantly. Then there was a ripple of desire in both of them, the curse waking and inflaming them. The kiss deepened rapidly and soon was no longer tentative but almost bruising. Their moistened lips slid together smoothly, each tilting his head to get that exactly right angle. Merton's hands reached out to grip Tommy's hips as Tommy's in turn twined in spikes of hair.

Somehow or another, Tommy's mouth opened wide enough for Merton to slide his tongue inside. The contact made Tommy gasp in guilty pleasure, accidentally stealing Merton's breath away. It also startled the jock so badly that he pulled away, breaking the kiss completely and releasing Merton's hair. For a split second, Merton's long fingers lingered on Tommy's hips before the goth jerked them back as if they were burnt. Tommy firmly squashed the pang of loss that threatened to well up.

They panted for breath for a long moment, and then Tommy cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, pleased with himself when his voice did not quaver, "That should do it, right?"

"Hopefully. That was... unspeakably weird," Merton shifted uncomfortably.

Tommy nodded dazedly, though he hadn't thought it was ~that~ weird. Of course, the fact that he didn't think it was weird was even weirder, so he held his peace. It was probably the enchantment talking, anyway. He frowned at that, because if what they'd just done had gotten rid of the enchantment, then how could it still be affecting him? Unless the kiss hadn't done anything to get rid of the curse, but Tommy didn't want to even consider that it hadn't worked. So, he was going to chalk the fact that not-right thoughts were clamoring about in his head more than ever up to residuals and move on.

"So. Um. I think I'm gonna go home," he said at last, getting up and plucking his jacket from the peg on the wall where he'd hung it upon entering. He wanted a bucket of chicken and a good night's sleep so he could pretend in the morning that this never happened.

"Right. See you later," Merton said as Tommy hastily left. He waited until the tall jock had shut the door firmly behind him, then collapsed onto his desk once again. "Fuck."

He frowned. Even that strongest of swear words was not even enough to express the dismay he felt. He could recognize the fire that pulsed through him as magic-induced. The spell was not broken, only momentarily sated. He had to find a different cure and ~fast~. In a few days he was supposed to meet a girl he'd met online, and he felt he wouldn't make the best impression if he and Tommy were dry humping on his couch when she arrived.

Oh God, ~that~ was a mental image he really didn't need.

He groaned, banging his head against the desk before he got up to get a few more books for research. He'd stay up all night if he had to, but he was going to get rid of this curse once and for all - ~without~ giving in to it - if it was the last thing he did.
TBC...
Well, that was fun. Review, please?