Control

In the end, it's Petey who tips Gary over the edge.

He's been thinking for a while that it's bound to happen. He's watched with little protest as Gary - whose hands, Petey has noticed, grow shakier as his plans grow clearer - works and wheedles his way into a position of power. Head Boy, and no one deserves it less or worked harder for it. But Crabblesnitch is an ignorant man, and Gary has always had a talent for manipulating the weak-minded, so he just slides right in and charms up the staff and now here they are. Of course Petey has done nothing to stop it, though not for lack of trying. He is almost constantly on Jimmy's tail, trying to warn him of Gary's plans.

Jimmy Hopkins. All of Gary's schemes revolve around this one boy. Petey isn't sure what Jimmy did to piss Gary off so badly, but he wants to ruin him so much that he's actually gone through the trouble of setting Jimmy up just to see him fall.

If Petey didn't know Gary so well, he'd say that Gary was driven by sheer boredom. No other motive is actively apparent. Gary just seems like a bored little boy with access to firecrackers and Barbie dolls, with just enough guile to trick some matchsticks out of his parents' palms. But it is more. It is something bordering on insanity and it frightens Petey more than he cares to admit. And now Gary is Head Boy, the big man in charge. All it took was a lie, a smile, and a month of unmedicated obsession with Jimmy Hopkins.

Gary's plan is coming together in a twisted mess of jigsaw puzzle pieces that Petey only half understands.

And he has been waiting for something to give Gary the tiny push into full-blown crazy, because one little push is all it will take. Gary is on the brink now, running on months of no pills, adrenaline, and ADD, and Petey can only hope as he waits. He hopes that it is not he who accidentally gives Gary that final shove. So of course, it is.

It's sad, really, that Petey is the one who suffers the brunt of Gary's aggression. After all, as far as Gary knows, he has been nothing but a silent observer throughout this latest and longest bout of sadism. Yet Gary takes his frustrations out on Petey every time. Because Petey is an easy target. Because he is afraid to tell. Because, and here's the dirtiest little secret, Petey has known Gary Smith for three long years and witnessed every change within them, and he can't help but recall sleepovers and sane conversations and the strange, fleeting feelings that came with having only the padding of a few sleeping bags between his bare skin and Gary's, that one time when they had been young enough that camping had seemed like a good idea. Because Petey remembers Gary like that, and he can do nothing but wait, watch, and wish like hell for the Gary from back then to return.

But Gary figured out a long time ago that he could beat Petey to a pulp and Petey still wouldn't leave, so why should he restrain himself?

Until Gary is doped up again, Petey is a punching bag. Because Petey says things like, "I can't let you do this to Jimmy," while they are alone in the dorm room and there is no one around to hear him scream.

This is a mistake for two reasons: One, Gary has said nothing of his plans to Petey. Petey is going on pure speculation and his knowledge of Gary's personality, and Gary hates thinking that someone out there might be able to read him as well as Petey can. Two, no one threatens to stop Gary Smith.

Petey recognizes his mistake immediately but, like many moments in his life, he is helpless as his control over the situation crumbles apart. Any hold he might have had over Gary by warning Jimmy ahead of time is now gone, because he is an idiot. He is the one that brought the spinning top of Gary's sanity to a screeching halt, and he knows right away that he's going to be punished.

"What," Gary begins slowly, "did you say?"

Up until now, Gary had been busily completing what could conceivably be either homework or the blueprints to a death ray. Now he has stopped to fix Petey, who is sitting hopelessly on the bed like a fish out of water, with the single most terrifying look that Petey has ever seen. But Petey cannot retract his words, or deny that he is going to do everything he can to help Jimmy beat Gary, because he is. It's his only hope of getting Gary back to normal.

"I said that I'm not going to let you do this to Jimmy," he iterates with considerably less confidence.

"You're not going to let me? Not going to let me, Femme-boy, is that what I just heard you say?" Gary is laughing now but there isn't anything funny about it; his eyes are not. Petey's body tightens up like a compressed spring when his roommate slowly lifts himself from the floor, though he knows it will be useless to run. The way Gary gets to his feet, so casually and without looking away from Petey's eyes, reminds him that Gary is a lot stronger and more dangerous than he is.

"Because it sounded like," Gary continues, head tilted slightly, taking a forward step that makes Petey nearly tumble backwards off of the bed. "You think you can stop me."

"N-no," Petey stammers. Of course he does. He has no idea why he's lying now.

"Don't lie, Petey," Gary orders. It hasn't yet been long enough that Petey's groin doesn't hurt at the familiar warning. He really doesn't need that again. "So, what, you think Hopkins is gonna come out on top? Gotta be on the winning team, huh, Femme-boy?"

That's not it at all. Petey is actually afraid that Jimmy is going to lose, but Gary wouldn't understand that. When Gary is like this, all he comprehends is power.

"Oh, Petey," his voice is soft, almost fond, but Petey knows what it conceals. He is so close to Gary now that he can count all the freckles on the other boy's nose. "You can't change sides now. It's too late in the game."

He raises his hand to tap Petey on the temple, which makes him flinch as if Gary is slugging him. Gary smiles, enjoying the control.

"If you tell him what I'm doing," he warns, "then I'll take you down, too."

Petey's voice works without his consent, much to his dismay. "He never even wanted to be in charge of the school. You did that. The way you obsess over him is insane."

That triggers something in Gary that makes him seem just that. His eyes glitter as he climbs onto the bed, forcing Petey back, and Petey thinks ridiculously of that one night of camping; of marshmallows and firewood. Stupid.

"Are you jealous, Femme-boy?" Gary guesses, that wild laugh escaping his mouth again. For a brief, horrifying second, Petey doesn't realize that Gary is mocking him, not accusing him.

Not that it matters. Gary has come to the wrong conclusion in any case.

"Afraid I'll steal all your little boyfriend's time away?"

It takes Petey a moment to wrap his brain around what Gary is implying. The idea of him and Jimmy together is just that foreign to him.

"What!? No!" his shock must sound like denial to Gary, who does nothing but sneer.

"I know all about you and Hopkins," he says disdainfully, "and I know you've tried to help him, Petey. Thinking maybe if you follow him around for long enough and impart advice about big, bad Gary that Jimmy-boy will finally notice how you feel."

Petey know that he should just shut up. He isn't going to win this. "That's a lie."

"You're the liar!" Now Gary is angry, the freckles on his face washed out with red. "Your little pal, Hopkins, might not notice but I do. I know everything."

"You don't know shit," Petey retorts, though he's inwardly screaming at himself to shut the hell up already.

Gary reacts quicker than a cat, jabbing his fist into Petey's stomach before the other boy even realizes that it's going to happen. It knocks Petey backwards off the bed; all his air is rushing out in one big gust and, even though Gary has hurt him before, the place where his fist made contact is punishingly painful. It's always worse when you don't expect it.

And then Gary is straddling him and he's not sure when they began to fight, not sure it's even a fight, because he's putting up no resistance to something he can't avoid. This is honestly not where he'd planned for this to go. The bruise forming on his stomach smarts under Gary's weight, and his cheek stings because Gary thinks it's a good idea to slap him, which seems girly, but still hurts like hell because Gary's blunt nails rake across his face. Petey still doesn't struggle. He knows what Gary wants, and that's control. If he gets that, he has to stop.

"Come on, Petey," the older boy taunts him. "Do something. Defend your boyfriend like a good little girl."

"Get off," Petey pleads, but other than that, he can think of nothing to do that won't make it worse. No amount of squirming can seem to make Gary budge.

Scowling, Gary hits him across the face again, this time with a closed fist. A burst of warm liquid spills over Petey's lip as it splits and they both freeze. Gary has never made Petey bleed before. He pauses in his assault to stare, transfixed, at the trail of crimson building on Petey's lower lip. Similarly, Petey can only stare back into the strange glint in Gary's eyes that never used to be there. By punching him, Gary has somehow made it more real that Petey can't allow him to go any further in his plans against Jimmy, no matter what. If this is how he treats his "friends", then what the hell is he going to do to Jimmy?

"Still thinking about running to your boy-toy?" Gary spits at him, leaning over him with contempt all over his face. Petey can count his freckles again, if he wants to.

And somehow, maybe because everything's been topsy-turvy since Jimmy arrived, Petey winds up saying, "Yeah. And I'm going to tell him everything."

Gary's fingers clutch his school vest hard, dragging him closer. "Like hell you will."

Then, even more surprising than a punch to the stomach, Gary is crushing their mouths together. It isn't anything like Petey imagined a kiss would be: rough, sloppy, and their teeth clink together, but, despite everything, despite the fact that Petey's stomach and face still hurt from Gary's punches, Petey can only desperately press closer. He still remembers that time before the pills and he thinks that this is probably the closest he'll ever get. It's that, really, that makes him grab Gary tightly by the arms, relishing it before this anomaly, whatever it is, ends.

Only it doesn't. Petey has apparently tipped Gary over more breaking points than one. Instead of returning to his senses and beating Petey until he swears never to tell, Gary sucks the blood off, shoves his tongue past Petey's lips, grabs Petey's wrist and squeezes until Petey can't hold back a noise of discomfort. And Gary drinks that in, feeds off this control that he has over Petey. Petey knows now that that's what it is: a new form of control. Petey threatened to break out of Gary's hold and now Gary is tightening his grip in a new way. Adapting. He's figured out what Petey cannot resist.

And, oh, he can't, not when Gary is kissing him like that. Even though he knows that Gary is a bad person, possibly even a psychopath, Petey can't deny that in a sick and twisted way, he wants this. He would do anything for Gary at this moment. He would throw Jimmy Hopkins off a cliff. Gary must know that, or he wouldn't be doing this. Gaining his power back is the only thing important to him now.

For some reason, Petey doesn't mind if Gary uses the hell out of him, as long as they can stay like this just a little longer. Gary's body is still firmly atop his – a warm and comfortable weight at contrast with the searing way that Gary is kissing him, as if afraid that he'll pull apart for a second and Petey will escape. The hand not cutting off the circulation to Petey's fingers is grabbing at his school vest like it has done Gary a personal wrong. When it becomes evident that it's not going to come off in this position, Gary crawls off of him and drags him to his feet, forcing him into the wall.

Petey's arms feel useless. He can't seem to will them to reciprocate or help. Not that Gary really needs his help. Frustrated, he releases Petey's wrist and tears the vest up over his head, slinging it across the room with no concern about where it will land or what it might break. Petey doesn't give a damn either. Gary's hands have already dived inside his button down, popping two of the buttons and ripping the rest from their holes, and now his hands are roughly grabbing him by the hips to pull him closer. It's probably going to leave bruises, but the pain melts away under the friction that Petey is suddenly intensely aware of. Gary is hard underneath his slacks.

Geez, it's no surprise that he is, too. He's wanted this for so long that he can't even remember. This isn't how he wanted it, certainly, but somehow it's so perfectly Gary that he can find nothing to complain about, not even the haphazard way that Gary is treating his body. Petey can feel the lines denting Gary's dry palms, the surprisingly sharp jut of his hip bone against Pete's, and that's far more important than any bruises they're leaving. It makes it real that this is happening.

And Petey is an artist. He can imagine that Gary is doing this because it's mutual or loving. He's all right with pretending. He's been pretending for a year that he and Gary are still friends, after all.

Gary's mouth moves to his chest and Petey's hormones cut off his ability to think. He just opens his mouth and nothing comes out. Even gasping is too much. He can only stand there, head tipped back against the wall, and try to breathe as Gary's tongue laves his nipple. The other boy seems intent on eating him alive, and he's doing a fantastic job of it. Petey doesn't know where he got so much practice, doesn't want to even think about it, but Gary is an expert at making him squirm. Petey is beyond caring that Gary must feel his appreciation trapped against his leg.

"You're mine," Gary hisses. Petey whimpers, which is as close to saying, "Yes, yes," as he can get right now. Gary isn't satisfied with that. "Say it."

He yanks Petey's hair and presses his leg up, applying wonderful pressure where Petey so desperately needs it. "Y-yours! I'm... I'm..."

That's as good as it's going to get. God, he hopes it's good enough for Gary. His mouth simply isn't complying with his orders. All of his remaining focus is centered on moving his hips against Gary's leg. Gary smirks against his neck, sliding the shirt off of Petey's shoulders and letting it drop to the ground. Then his hips are moving back and it's the single most amazing feeling that Petey has ever experienced. It hits him that it's Gary moving against him, Gary gasping breathlessly into his ear, Gary's hands grabbing at his skin, and it's so easy to believe that it's the Gary from before. Jimmy Hopkins no longer exists.

But when Petey tries to reciprocate and peel Gary's vest away, Gary bites his shoulder hard. Petey yelps and recoils, instinctively curling in on himself. Gary growls and kisses the place where he bit down a hundred times, until it's to the point of being sloppy, then he pushes close again. Petey has learned his lesson. He keeps his arms cautiously at his sides and curls his fingers against the wall whenever Gary does something particularly good.

"Well, what do you know?" Gary breathes, his hand reaching down to grope at Petey through his slacks. Petey's brain has officially died. He will never be normal again. "You really are a boy."

Petey is too far gone to be insulted. He can only arch and whimper as Gary squeezes his cock through layers of fabric. Whoever invented clothing, he hates them. He wants the warmth of Gary's hand to touch him directly, to envelope him. Petey would do anything. He can feel every twitch of Gary's fingers and he longs for his pants to disappear. But, like a good boy, he keeps his hands pressed to the wall.

"Ask me to touch you," Gary whispers, his hand sliding up to push against Petey's lower belly. It's not good enough after sampling more interesting placements. Petey groans and attempts to buck against him, but Gary moves back. "Say please."

"P-please," Petey stutters. If this goes on any longer, he will die. If he doesn't explode, he'll be forced to kill himself later.

Gary breathes in deeply, nuzzling his neck in a strangely affectionate gesture. His fingers poke into Petey's stomach. "The right way. 'Please, Gary, I want you to touch me.' I want you to say it. And I never want you to think about Hopkins again."

He wants to say that he never did, that it's always, always been Gary, but Gary won't believe him. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to concentrate. "Please, Gary... I want you to t-touch me."

It takes all the effort he has to form that sentence. Gary seems pleased by the fact that he has so much power over Petey that he can render him speechless so easily. He thumbs open the button on Petey's pants. Oh, God, Petey thinks, his hips twitching in Gary's direction. He is sweating and he's barely moved. Gary mouths his neck and pushes his pants down, hooking his thumbs into Petey's underwear to drag that along, too. Petey's breath catches. Even now, he can't help but feel self-conscious at being exposed before Gary. He half expects Gary to laugh at him.

But Gary, for once, is speechless. He gives Petey a look that Petey might describe as fond or admiring, if he didn't know better. It's the look that, if this were a cheesy romance movie, would be followed by the phrase, "You're beautiful."

Gary says no such thing. He wraps his dry hand around Petey's cock and pulls, though, and that's much better. No one's ever done this to him, of course not, and it's so much better than when he does it himself. Even though Gary's hands are dry and he's squeezing a little too hard, Petey has never felt anything better in his life. His fingers itch to grab onto Gary's shoulders - he wants him as close as possible - but they remain against the wall. Gary pulls his cock through the circle of his fist over and over and Petey can't stop himself from moaning with nearly every movement. His hips have a mind of their own, bucking when even he doesn't expect it. Gary is panting in his ear and Petey takes a while to realize through the haze of pleasure that Gary's other hand is down his own boxers.

The thought makes Petey groan. It's just so... so hot to think that Gary is doing that for him. He can't restrain himself from reaching out and knocking Gary's hand away, replacing it with his own. Gary glares at him but doesn't stop him. Instead, his head drops onto Petey's shoulder and he strokes Petey faster. Petey imitates his actions and Gary gasps. It's the sexiest sound Petey's ever heard. It makes Petey want to continue, even though he's never done anything like this before. As long as Gary makes noises like that, he's willing to apply himself and learn.

He's a teenage boy and this is his first time doing anything besides a chaste kiss on the lips. Not to mention that it's Gary, and that in itself is worthy of an orgasm. It won't be long before he's done, and he thinks they both know it. Petey's too wrapped up in the way Gary smells and feels and tastes to bother being embarrassed. And Gary isn't displeased. His hand moves faster and Petey arches his back against the wall, whimpering.

"Come," Gary commands him. That's all he needs to say. Like his body was waiting for Gary's signal, Petey goes rigid and grits his teeth together, eyes squeezing shut. He comes and Gary's hand is coated, and Gary even seems to enjoy that, because he pulls at Petey a few more times and then kisses him on the mouth. Petey's brain isn't moving at its quickest. It's another few seconds before he realizes his own hand is wet.

Gary pulls away from him after an eternity of stroking Petey's tongue with his. His face is red and his hair is messy. It's the most beautiful sight. Petey has almost forgotten the circumstances.

"Clean yourself up," Gary orders. His voice is shaky, but his face is as cold as before, despite the tinge of red. He bends down to wipe his hand on Petey's pants and then buttons up his own. "I have to shower."

Petey can't think of anything to say. He's torn between, "Don't you know I've always wanted that?" and, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Neither of those would go over well, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Gary pauses in the doorway to look back at him, tucking his shirt in. "You belong to me."

He wishes he did. He wishes that this was all that mattered. Petey wishes with all his heart that Gary had done this because he was in love, or at least in his right mind. He wishes that he could tell Gary everything he feels, because he is sure that it's love. Wonderful, terrifying, completely fucked up love.

But he can't have any of those things. Because he loves Gary, but not this one. And tomorrow, he's telling Jimmy Hopkins everything. Jimmy has to win.