Springtime

[A/N: I don't write fluff. It just doesn't happen. Some would say it's a good thing, others would say it's a bad thing. I don't care what most people say, I just know that I need to strengthen my fluff-writing abilities. This is a half-requested-half-for-myself fic. Blame Reviews to Master if it sucks [She Beta'd it and gave me the general concept]. Also, I worked a friend of mine into it as a minor OC. Yeah, I do that shit sometimes. (Totally unrelated to Stop Motion, in case you were wondering.) FYI, a soda jerk is someone who works at an ice cream parlor. It's an old-timey word.]

Gary had demanded that Pete buy him ice cream. It was a cold afternoon, a couple of days before the end of the all-too-short winter break they were offered. The sadist was clad in his swimming trunks and a white t-shirt, still dripping wet from his midday swim, and the soda jerk was eyeing him with disgust. It was too cold for swimming or ice cream, but Gary didn't seem to care. Pete was sitting across from him in the booth, hands folded passively in his lap.
In front of the older teen there was a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream, but Pete didn't have the money for another serving. He went without and instead listened to Gary's incessant chatter with muted displeasure. He wouldn't be permitted to leave until Gary saw fit, but he didn't really mind his company. Not normally, anyways.

Pete had been on the way to a party that he and a friend of his – a girl that lived in the area - were planning on hosting. She was leaving the next morning, so he was happy to pitch in any of his extra money for disposable plates and the ingredients for snacks. He had been excited for the get together, carrying his bag of goods towards her house, where they planned to set it up. He didn't even see Gary until he bumped into him.

As the sociopath helped his lithe companion off of the ground, he gave him a wicked grin and demanded that they should "catch up over ice cream". Peter knew that it was Gary's way of saying that he wanted ice cream and that Pete had no choice but to come with him. Either that, or he would be walking away with a busted lip.

"Peter?" A girl with hazel eyes approached the odd pair, smiling almost tiredly with her thin lips.

"H-hey." He replied, standing and adjusting his shirt with a faint blush, Gary eyeing the female with danger in his gaze.

"Why aren't you at the house?" She tried, twirling a lock of red hair with a glint of mischief behind her apathetic stare.

"I was uhm… Thi-this is Gary. He – I well-"

"What's happening at your house?" Gary sounded menacing.

"It's a party. You're welcome to come." She smiled at the sadist almost sweetly, the lock of red hair falling flat against her shoulder.

"No." He turned to his ice cream and stabbed it with his spoon.

"D-don't mind him." Peter said with a polite grin, lifting the bag of ingredients to show it to her.

"I'll be there." The female giggled, suddenly distracted by the smoothie she had ordered, and left them in tense silence.

"What's your problem?" Pete said when she was out of ear-shot, sitting back in his previous seat and setting the bag next to him on the floor.

"You're not going to that party." Gary growled at him over a bite of ice cream, damp hair hiding his eyes.

"W-what?" The smaller male asked, baffled.

"You're coming with me." The sadist picked at his treat again.

"No, I'm going to a party." Pete snapped back, his eyes smoldering with repressed anger.

Gary gawked back at him, the spoon hanging precariously in front of his mouth, eyes wide with surprise. Pete had never talked back to him before. Even if he didn't like the idea, Peter always bowed his head, mumbled something rude under his breath, and went along with whatever Gary had planned. It was odd to see him glare so defensively, to express that he was going to do what he wanted.

"No, you're coming with me!" Gary smacked the ice cream off the table and it landed with a wet sound on the floor, followed by an exasperated groan from the worker behind the counter.

"You're such a prick." Pete said before he stood and stormed out of the shop, feeling rather proud of himself.

Gary disappeared. It was almost a month before Peter even saw him again, the sadist scowling at him in the hallway outside Mr. Hattrick's room. The smaller of the two tried to wave at him, but he was gone as quickly as he had appeared, and Pete continued on as usual. About a week after that, when the hazel-eyed male was enjoying the fading bite of the winter chill as spring approached, legs hanging off of the side of the dock, Gary came and nudged him with his boot. Gary almost managed to startle his companion into the water, laughed at his weakness, then walked away nonchalantly.

Peter was sitting in the common room, reading over an essay that he had been working on, when Gary plopped down next to him. It had been three days since the sadist had made his presence known, so the other teen eyed him unsurely, holding his paper to his chest for fear of having it torn to pieces. Gary gave him a smirk that had bad intentions written all over it, then ruffled what little hair Pete had to ruffle, almost as though nothing had happened. That night, there was a loud knock on Pete's door. He shot into an upright position, Gary having stuck his head into the smaller teen's room.

"Let's sneak into the girl's dorm." He suddenly said, Pete rubbing sleep out of his eyes and struggling to wrap his mind around the sadist's suggestion.

"W-what? No!" He finally answered, flopping into a laying position and turning his back to the door. The hairs on the back of his neck were on end, and he knew that Gary was staring him down.

The sound of the door closing behind the intruder made Pete jump, approaching footsteps ringing through his head. Gary was looming over him, and the other teen could practically feel his sadistic grin. There was a sharp jab in the smaller boy's shoulder blade, and he almost yelped in surprise.

"C'mon, Petey!"

"No."

"Why not?" There was a stubborn silence.

"Are you a queer?" Pete rolled over to glare at his undesired companion.

"I'm not g-gay." He practically growled.

"Prove it."

"Fine." There was a long pause before Pete spoke up, flipping off the blankets and sticking his feet into his house shoes almost angrily.

They walked around the looming dorm building, Gary easily scaling the back wall, Pete struggling with his weak arms and fear of heights. When he was finally on the ledge, on solid ground, he collapsed and wheezed unhappily. The sociopath wrenched him onto his feet and half-guided-half-dragged him into the dorm.

Pete had trouble keeping from panting, still spent from the climb, holding his breath systematically so that Gary wouldn't be angry with him for making too much noise. He wasn't sure where the older male was leading him, and he didn't much care, not when he felt dizzy from strain and lack of air.

There was the click of a door being pried open, and both of the boys stopped in their tracks. Christy had stepped into the hallway, yawning and rubbing her eyes groggily. Gary mouthed a curse, grabbed more tightly onto the lithe teen's upper arm, then yanked him into the nearest room, a janitor's closet. He was careful to close it gently, and Pete breathed, leaning against the wall out of relief. Then he saw Gary, not six inches away, the almost pitch black making him look as though he was looming. Peter felt his face heat up with the closeness.

He breathed deeply through his nose, the subtle smell of body spray that he had probably put on that morning flooding the smaller male's nostrils. He turned his head to take in the smell more evenly, eyes fluttering closed. Every muscle in Pete's body had slackened, and he slowly leaned forward, his nose brushing against the fabric of Gary's sleeve. He felt the scarred teen yank away from him, felt his eyes stab into him, and in the dim light from under the door that his eyes had gotten used to, he could see his mouth slightly agape with surprise.

"What was that? Did you just smell me?" He asked, backing further away from Pete, who was curling into himself.

"Do you have a crush on me or something?" Gary half-laughed, waiting for a sharp rejection of the idea. It never came.

Horror washed over the brunette's damaged features, and he wrenched the door open, leaving Pete in a closet in the girl's dorm with no way to get out. He was mortified, tears streaming shamelessly down his face, shaking and whimpering weakly. Christy heard the door smack closed and found Pete, shouting that he was a pervert and dragging him by the collar of his shirt out of the pink building. He was too shocked to care. It was another month before he heard from Gary again.

He was reading in the library. It was Watership Down, a book that had always disturbed him as a child but retained a macabre kind of comfort. He was too entranced in the pages of the story to notice the heavy thunk of boots, the approach of someone who most definitely didn't belong in the upper levels of the nerds' territory.

When Pete didn't initially notice him, he smashed his hands on the table the lithe teen was sitting at, and Pete jumped out of his thoughts with a squeak that Gary thought was adorable. His mouth was agape with horror, bracing himself for pain and closing his teary eyes tightly. It never came. Instead, there was a mouth crashing against his, and Pete's eyes snapped open, his face turning bright red. Gary pulled away with a smirk that didn't hold as much sting as it usually did.

"I like you too, Petey."