Todd slams the door to the boarding house, as usual, careless as to whether or not anyone might be sleeping. Not that anyone around here slept at this hour, though. It's only, what, eleven o'clock on a Friday night? Freddie might be asleep, but the dullard sleeps like a log, and Pietro's probably off gallivanting somewhere.. and Lance.. well, he neglected to see if Lance's jeep was parked outside, but chances are the other boy was off (pardon the pun) pussyfooting around. Which is fine, 'cause Todd feels like being alone right now. Maybe take a shower.. tomorrow, that is. Instead, he steals into the kitchen and opens the refrigerator to find it much like his stomach: cold and empty. "Shit," he mutters, kicking out a chair from under the kitchen table and unceremoniously plopping onto it, raking dirty fingers through equally dirty hair. /Don't wanna think about food, anyway,/ he decides.
Even though he tries everything in his being not to let them stray there, his thoughts mull over what happened earlier that night. He recalls everything that took place after his high wore off: can vividly see the pleasure etched on Kurt's face, feel the fur and sweat against his body, and taste the other boy's lips as if they still lingered on his own. He recalls everything with such amazing detail, and yet, it feels so surreal.. like it never happened, because he still can't believe that it DID. Digging the baggie out of his pocket, he throws it on the table, cursing at the culpable item under his breath. "It's all your fault, yo," he mutters.
Lance is busy ransacking his room, looking for his missing weed, when he's interrupted by the slamming of the front door. Freddie's sleeping, and Pietro's dates sure wouldn't be done this early, which leaves only one person it could be. With a frustrated growl he decides to give up the search, for now, and heads downstairs to check on Todd. He finds the boy sitting at the kitchen table, which he expected. What he doesn't expect is the state he's in, disheveled, clothes covered in grass stains and leaves...or the baggie he has open on the table in front of him. "TOAD!"
Todd practically falls out of the chair. Instinctively slamming a hand down on top of the baggie, he looks up, eyes as wide as saucers, to see Lance gawking at him. "Oh, h-hey, Lance!" Play it cool, play it cool. "'Sup, man?"
The ground starts to shake, making Todd's chair wobble threateningly. "You little jerk, I've been looking for that stuff all night! Do you have any idea how much that shit cost? I oughta take it out of your hide!"
Todd grabs the bottom of his chair as the ground shakes. When it's over, he laughs nervously and holds the bag out to Lance, eyes full of apology. "Stay cool, man, I didn't use much.." As he waits for the other boy to take the weed, he cringes, anticipating a fist in the face.
Lance snatches the bag, runs a quick check of the contents, then cuffs Todd on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise. "Next time, ask." He glares at Todd, noticing again the condition he's in, and wonders what kind of antics a high Toad would get into. "What happened to you, anyway? Looks like it was an eventful trip."
"Ow!" Todd cries out, clapping a hand over his shoulder, resisting the urge to give Lance a nice, hard kick in the shin. "Yeah, whatever.. sorry." Wincing, both at the pain and the question asked, he drops his gaze to his lap, thankful that his shirt covers his crotch so well, hiding the most distinct evidence of what happened tonight. Telling the thruth briefly crosses his mind (after all, Lance had done some strange shit when he was high), but he decides against it; he has no idea what Lance thinks of homosexuality (/Even though I'm NOT fucking queer../) and doesn't want to risk getting the shit beat out of him by one of his best friends. A hundred excuses then present themselves in his mind, and he grabs one randomly. "I, uh, I don't remember much of anything.." Lame. He hopes his voice sounded convincing, at least..
Lance smirks. "Rookie. Seriously, you look like you got in a fight with a lawnmower. Who won?"
Todd nervously rubs the back of his neck. "Um, seriously man, I don't remember anything.."
Todd's obviously nervous, and Lance begins to wonder why. First time jitters, or something else entirely. Lance suspects he remembers more than he claims; he studies him again, taking in the mussed hair, leaves and twigs matted into it by sweat, the clothes, covered in dirt and grass stains, and his lowered gaze. Guilty, definitely, but of what? "Come on, man. You got in a fight didn't you? I mean look at you, what else could it have been. You've gotta remember some of it, you didn't smoke that much. So who was it? Did you kick some X-Geek's ass or what?"
Todd snorts, a wry chuckle fleeing his mouth. "Somethin' like that.." And suddenly, a lightbulb goes off. "I mean.. yeah! Yeah, man, that's exactly what happened." He grins, mainly because it seems he's found a way out of this situation, but he figures Lance will take it as a sign of pride. "Shoulda been there, man. Todd Tolensky: X-Geek ass kicker extraordinare, yo!" He jumps to his feet, punching at the air, ignorant to the fact that his shirt rose slightly when doing so.
Congratulations die on Lance's lips as Todd's sudden movements raise his shirt, revealing massive wet stains on his pants; stains entirely inconsistent with a fight. He raises an eyebrow, stares pointedly for a moment, then meets Todd's gaze. "Uh-huh. Looks like you got some ass all right."
Todd stops, hands frozen in mid-punch. "H-huh..?" He blinks, following Lance's line of vision, down, down, down.. fuck.. Oh, fuck.. On impulse, he pulls the hem of his shirt down to cover the mess, slowly bringing his head up to see the other boy gazing at him, expression unreadable. Mouth dry, mind blank, he stares back, stomach quickly tightening. He's deathly afraid of what Lance will do next..
Lance doesn't actually think Todd did anything more then relieve a little tension; he knows from experience that weed can have that effect. Then he sees the look in the other boy's eyes. "No. Fucking. Way."
Todd instinctively takes a step back, raising one hand in defense (the other continues to hold his shirt down, as if hiding the evidence will somehow render everything untrue), legs tensed and ready to bolt if the situation calls for it. "I.." he trails off, unsure of what to say. Before, he was just confused, but now he suddenly feels guilty, though he's unsure why. A small part of him wants Lance to take a swing at him, punishment for.. for what happened.
Grinning, Lance cuffs Todd on the shoulder again, this time playfully. "Way to go man! I can't believe it, you actually got laid! So who was the lucky girl?"
Eyes wide, Todd shakes his head, blinks, shakes his head again, and wonders if he's either incredibly lucky or incredibly screwed. "Uh, g-girl? Oh.." Well crap. /C'mon, pick a random name... who do you have art class with?/ "Uh, Kitty--I MEAN, NO! Ah, fuck.." He mentally wills the ground to open up and swallow him whole, but even that's against him tonight.
Lance's blood turns to ice in a heartbeat, and the ground begins to shake ominously under him. He suddenly wants nothing more than to beat the crap out of Todd until he admits to lying about it; he knows Kitty wouldn't, that the last person on earth she'd sleep with was Toad. Hell, Toad's just about the last person anyone would sleep with, and it takes all his willpower not to say so, not to attack him mercilessly. Focusing the full strength of his rage in his eyes, he stares Toad down. "What did you say?"
Todd steps back until he hits the refrigerator, both hands shielding him now. "I didn't mean that, I swear! I was just.. her name just randomly popped into my head, okay, man?" What to do, what to do.. again, he considers telling the truth, but what consequence would THAT bring? /Probably nothin' as bad as what he woulda done if I'd really screwed around with his precious little miss pussy cat../ he thinks dryly, momentarily wondering where that thought came from. "Just forget about it, yo. The truth is.. the truth is there wasn't no lucky girl, so don't sweat over it.." /..or bash my head in./
Lance tries to ignore the relief, for the sake of his curiousity. Anger forgotten already, he's now wondering just why Todd thought he had to lie. He didn't buy that there wasn't a girl, the guilty look on Todd's face was ironclad testimony to the fact that he'd been doing something with someone. Someone he didn't want Lance to know about. Lance frowns, and advances on Todd, towering over him as he cowers against the fridge. "Bullshit. There was someone else, you just don't want me to know who, do you? Why? What've you got to hide?"
Todd drops his gaze, the dirty floor suddenly becoming very interesting. Damnit, why's Lance gotta push so much..? Why couldn't he have just been happy with Todd's earlier excuse of not remembering what the hell happened? Worrying his bottom lip, Toad figures what the hell: if he doesn't tell the other boy what's up, Lance'll probably beat it out of him, so he loses either way. /Story of my life,/ he gives a sardonic snort. /Always a lose-lose situation for the Toad./ "..itwasn'tagirl.." he mumbles.
Lance frowns, thinking for a moment he heard wrong. Todd's voice is so quiet he can barely hear him. "Say what?" he asks, incredulous.
Todd looks up, gaze falling heavily on Lance's. "It wasn't a girl." Jesus, his ears are burning.
Lance is surprised, to say the least. He'd never imagined Todd was gay, not that he'd thought much about Todd's sex life at all. 'Come to think of it, what sex life? This is Todd we're talking about here. Mr. Shower-Once-a-Month himself. The words 'sex' and 'toad' don't exactly go together.' Maybe that was why; maybe Todd felt like he should just take what he can get, and not be picky. He regards Todd for a few moments, making sure to keep his expression neutral. "Okay...so who's the lucky guy?"
Todd stares. Just... stares. "I.. who.. what?"
"Who's...the lucky...guy. Jeez, you'd think I was speaking another language or something," he smirks, trying to put Todd at ease. "If you were expecting me to freak out, I'm not. You like guys, that's fine. As long as you don't try and feel me up," he moved to ruffle Todd's hair, "I've got no problem with it. I'm just curious as to who to thank for finally giving you some."
Todd is at a loss. Relieved, definitely, but still at a loss. He'd expected some kind of negative reaction, if only a disgusted sneer, but.. nothing. Some miniscule part of him is disappointed, and he doesn't understand why. Has his mind suddenly up and gone all masochistic without letting him know? Fucking punk. "I don't like guys," he responds, quick and defensive, almost insulted that Lance would suggest such a thing. "I'm not a fucking queer, man. And what the hell, feel you up? Shit, who was the one groping my ass last week when he was high, yo?" That thought, coupled with thoughts of Kurt earlier, causes little tingly sensations in his groin and he mentally bashes his brain with a large, metal hammer--the side you use to pull nails out. /What the hell? Not. Fucking. Queer./
"No need to get pissy, man. There's nothing wrong with it. Gay, bi, whatever. No point in denying it though, it's stupid to do that to yourself. You can't be happy when you're repressing shit like that." Lance determinedly ignores the line about him doing the groping; when you're that high, lots of people look appealing, even one of your best friends. He grins another toothy grin. "Now. About my last question."
Todd frowns, glaring daggers at Lance. "Not denying anything, damnit, I ain't a fruit." Folding his arms, he pushes past Lance, making a beeline for the living room. "And to answer your last question," he spits, perching himself on the couch, feeling around for something under the cushions. "It ain't none of your business, fool. Where the hell is the remote?"
"Oh no no no, you don't get out of this that easily." Lance follows him into the den, sitting promptly on the cushion Todd has his hand under, in an attempt to trap him. "Not-fruits don't do that," he points at Todd's pants, "with guys. You've gotta at least be bi. And I think it IS my business who it was with, because I said it is, and I own your ass."
"Hey, fuck you!" he growls, unsuccessfully trying to pull his arm out from under the cushion. "You gaining weight, man? I can't feel my hand under your fat-ass." Cringing, he bites the inside of his cheek, hoping to God that Lance doesn't make some stupid gay quip about Todd's hand feeling his ass.
"You just wish there wasn't a cushion there, admit it," Lance ruffles Todd's hair roughly. "And no matter how many times you try to change the subject," he reaches over to stick his hand between the next cushions, pulls out the remote and holds it out to Todd, smirking. "I'm gonna keep asking. So why don't we just get it over with now and save ourselves a lot of unnecessary nagging?"
Todd grumbles, pulling away as Lance ruffles his hair. He yanks his hand out from under the cushion the other boy is sitting on and pouts, eyes narrowed, and brow furrowed. Snatching the remote, he stubbornly folds his arms and glares in the direction of the blank television. "Hey, it ain't anyone you know all that well, so what's it matter, man? It was just a stupid, one-time thing.. it was the fucking weed's fault, anyway."
Lance's smile falters. Todd's reluctance is starting to worry him; he looks on Todd almost as a little brother, and they've usually got no problems being open with each other. He tries to maintain a casual tone. "If it's no one I know, shouldn't be such a big deal then, right? Come on, spill it, or I'll have to beat it out of you." He cuffs Todd on the shoulder for good measure.
Todd winces, grabbing his already injured shoulder. "Hey man, watch it.." Worrying his bottom lip, he sets the remote aside, TV forgotten, and plays with the hem of his shirt, eyes downcast. "It's just.. I dunno, man, I don't really wanna think about it right now," /yeah, even though it's all I CAN think about/ "...so just forget about it for a while, yeah?" He looks at Lance hopefully.
Now Lance knows something's wrong; it's not often Todd's serious, it's not in the boy's nature. Or at least, it's not in his nature to show it. Sarcastic, yes, angry, yes, goofily romantic even, in his own strange fashion. But serious, rarely. Lance puts a hand on Todd's shoulder, trying for comforting. "Dude, is something wrong? Did he do something to hurt you? Because if he did..."
"No, no, no!" He shakes his head, waving his hands in a negative gesture. "Nothin' like that, yo.." He casts a glance at the hand on his shoulder, his skin warming at the touch, and he briefly wonders what it would be like if Lance--"Nothin' like that," he repeats, slowly removing the hand, cursing his thoughts, cursing the weed.. cursing Kurt. "..this's fucked me up for life, yo.." he mumbles, once again fiddling with the end of his shirt. He glares at his pants, at all the stains--grass and other things--and sighs.
Lance sighs. "Listen. I'm not gonna press you, man. You don't want to talk, it's your business. But don't just dismiss the idea that it might help. Talking can have a surprising effect."
Todd nods, unsure of what to say.. "Yeah. Thanks, man.." He stares down, watching his hands fiddle with the shirt, his thoughts turning around the idea of pressing the issue further, despite how hard he's been fighting against it. The truth is there are a lot of things he's confused about, but is Lance the person to talk to..? And even so, could he talk about it without naming names? He bites the inside of his cheek, already regretting the words about to leave his mouth. "Do you think.. I mean.. what does this mean? I.. I don't like guys.. not like that.."
"Got a funny way of showing it, man," Lance smirks. "Nothing wrong with experimenting though. Everybody does it eventually."
Todd's eyebrow quirks, gaze still not meeting Lance's. "Does what, yo? Experiment..?"
Lance shrugs. "Sure. Everyone experiments sometimes. People are curious, right? Never can tell what you like until you've tried it. Eventually you'll find what's right for you and leave the rest behind."
"Ah.." Cheeks burning, Todd wonders why he said anything at all. He knew damn good and well where this conversation would go, but he didn't expect Lance to be so CASUAL about it, as if he's speaking from experience.. and that thought makes Todd freeze, mouth drying instantaneously. He chances a quick glance in Lance's direction before focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall ahead of him. "Um.." /Don'tsayit, don'tsayit, don'tsayit/ "Have you..?" /D'oh./?
Lance is caught off guard by the question. Mentally he smacks himself. 'You start talking about that and you don't expect him to ask? You're more naive than he is,' his mind sneers. Suddenly nervous (it's one thing to be talking about your friend's sex life, entirely another to be talking about your own), he averts his eyes from Todd's, and stares instead at the ceiling. "Well..."
Todd tips his head to the side, eying Lance curiously. "Well..?" he asks. "Well what?" A sly grin wants to play on his lips, but--being the shaky ball of nerves that he is--the attempt only scores a twitching cheek.
"Well..." Lance heaves a frustrated sigh and glares at Todd. "Man that doesn't matter, aren't we supposed to be talking about YOUR 'experiments'?"
Todd frowns, clearly disappointed, and goes back to staring at the wall, arms now folded across his stomach as he slouches against the sofa. "Yeah, whatever," he sighs. "Where were we, anyhow?" The blood rushes to his face once again, as he realizes where said blood was heading seconds ago, and--for the second time tonight--thanks whatever deity is out there that he wears a long shirt. Ah, to be a teenaged boy brutally attacked by the effects of puberty..
Lance grins mischievously, hoping it'll cover his lingering unease. "You were about to tell me who you did it with."
Todd shoots a glare at Lance that speaks volumes, and it says: Fuck. You. "Fuck you," he relates. "I was not!" Growling, he hops to his feet, gripping his hair at the roots, and begins pacing the room, nerves frayed to the tips.
"Look, you really wanna know who it is, man?" he all but shouts, aware of what a mistake this will be, but.. someone needs to know. Someone needs to tell him what to do, because he hasn't got a fucking clue. "You gotta promise me, PROMISE me that you won't beat the shit outta me! Or.. or maybe you should, because, god, this is so fucked up, man.."
"Whoa, Todd, chill out man!" The sudden outburst has Lance immediately on edge. He jumps off the couch to stand in front of Todd, trying to catch his eye. "I promise, okay? Whatever you need to say, I'm listening." He tries to smile reassuringly, and mentally kicks himself when his tone comes out uncertain, almost pleading. "It can't be THAT bad...right?"
Todd stops in front of Lance and groans, closing his eyes after meeting the other boy's gaze. "It's bad, yo.. it was one of the.." He trails off, unable to complete the sentence. Maybe Lance will catch on..? Inwardly, he laughs at the idea; Lance catching on to anything is quite doubtful.
Lance wants to growl in frustration. Impatience and curiousity are getting the better of him, and he snaps a little too harshly, "One of the what, man? Little more info needed here."
Good old Lance. Good old, rocks-for-fucking-brains Lance. "It was one of the fucking X-Geeks, okay?!"
For a moment Lance finds it hard to breath, let alone think. He wants to believe it's one of Todd's lame jokes, but the mixture of fear and defiance on his face says otherwise. Still, he refuses to accept, glowers at Todd and snaps, "Oh ha ha, very funny. Seriously dude, who was it?"
Todd remains quiet, face downcast. Nothing can be said in this situation, and his only options are to play off of Lance's apparent denial or simply repeat what he already said. Either way, both choices lead to the same end in Todd's mind: himself as a bloody heap on the floor.. so he opts to say nothing, which probably isn't much better.
Todd's silence can only mean one thing, and after a few moments of it Lance's mouth falls open. "No. Fucking. Way." His feet move of their own accord, and he finds himself pacing restlessly in front of Todd, rubbing at the headache starting behind his eyes. "You're not serious, you can't possibly..." He rounds on Todd suddenly, trying to control the urge to shout. "WHO, Todd, who was it?"
Todd winces at the tone of Lance's voice, hearing the supressed anger behind his words. /Oh well,/ Todd's mind chimes in. /You've already dug your grave and even lied in it; may as well shut the coffin and get it over with./ With a sigh, he settles himself on the couch once more, burying his face in his hands, wondering how to go about this. "..it was.." Kurt? The name sounds too foreign, never having actually said it before.. well, except earlier that night during a flurry of sighs and gasps and moans, a thought which simultaneously makes Todd want to bash his head into a wall and hump the nearest object.. but considering that Lance was watching him, humping the nearest object was bad. Unless it somehow involved Lance, too, but--/Derailing that train of thought NOW./
Nightcrawler also sounds a bit odd to him, so he decides to settle on: "..the fuzzy one." His face burns immediately, and he covers it up with his hands as much as possible.
Lance stops pacing to stand before Todd. He can't decide whether to cross his arms and glare at the boy, bash his fists into his own forehead a few times, or throw Todd through the door. With a frustrated 'ARGH!' he throws his hands in the air. "At least it wasn't Summers," he shudders at the thought, "but Jesus, Todd! Out of all of them you had the sudden urge to go fuck that freak?! What were you thinking?!"
Todd cringes, throwing his hands up defensively as he sinks as far back into the couch as possible. "I didn't- I didn't FUCK him! I just.. we just--FUCK, Lance, I wasn't thinking clearly, man!" In the back of his mind, he fumes about the 'freak' comment, though he isn't sure if it's because he realizes he and Kurt aren't all that different and Lance calling Kurt a freak is like Lance calling HIM a freak, or.. if it's just Lance calling Kurt a freak that irks him.. Either way, he bites back any remarks he might have in lieu of anticipating any of the sudden blows he's sure will come.
Lance exclaims, "Obviously! God, do you realize what kinda trouble this could cause Todd? If he tells anybody we'll have the entire mansion worth of losers right on our asses, trying to defend his precious honor or some shit like that. What the fuck!" He throws up his hands and goes back to pacing furiously, having to truly fight back the urge to slap some sense into the other boy. The ground rumbles slightly along his path.
Todd frowns, jaw tightening. "I KNOW, man! You think I haven't already thought about that or what?! Damnit.." Fear forgotten, he slumps forward and rakes his fingers through his hair, brushing out a few leaves along the way. "So what the fuck do I do, yo? I can't fucking change it.."
Lance pauses, unconsciously mimicking Todd's gesture. "Fuck, man, I don't know. Do you think he'll keep quiet about it? If he does, I mean," he glances at Todd, feeling slightly guilty without knowing why, "I guess you could just pretend it never happened, right? Nobody else would have to know."
Todd nods, fingers now massaging the sides of his head. "He said nobody'd ever know. And as big'a pussies as those X-Geeks are, I don't think they go back on their words, y'know?" Chewing his bottom lip for a moment, he considers Lance's other question, remembering that he himself had suggested something very similar to Kurt. "Yeah.." he says, voice low, almost distant. "Yeah, I said the same thing, but.." He pauses and shakes his head, realizing just how easier said than done that advice was. "..I don't think I can do that."
"You what?" Lance studies Todd's suddenly solemn face carefully, and doesn't like what he sees. "What's that supposed to mean Todd?" Silently his brain adds a desperate, 'Please God don't let it mean what I think it means.'
Todd's head suddenly snaps up and he glowers at Lance. "Fuck, I needa spell it out for you?! It means I don't think I can do that! Take it however the hell you want!" Again, he's on his feet, pacing out a short path in front of the sofa, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, pulsing with nervous energy. "D'you think YOU'D be able to pretend something like that didn't happen?! What if you- what about- with Kitty- ARGH!" Resisting the urge to punch a hole in the wall, he instead kicks the coffee table, using more strength than he intended, though he doesn't even flinch when the table slams into the base of the TV, cracking the corner of the screen.
Facing away from Lance, he deeply breathes in and out, trying to calm his nerves. A detached part of his mind hopes the other boy DOES take a swing at him--a fight would be a wonderful way to release some energy and distract his thoughts from certain things. Of course, those 'certain things' would probably be just as good a way to work off some energy, but--but--he just needs to STOP thinking entirely. This frustration is going to cause him a nervous breakdown, and that's the LAST state he wants Lance to see him in..
Lance knows his jaw must've hit the floor at some point, but all he can register now is Todd's uncharacteristic rage and his own mess of confusion, guilt, and anger. Blindly he grabs onto the first response to present itself.
"You leave Kitty out of this, damn it! It's not like that with us!" He's overwhelmed with the urge to get back at Todd, for even mentioning Kitty in the midst of all this and for getting him into this situation in the first place (disregarding all the nagging he did to get Todd to talk). "And even if it was, she wouldn't just sleep with anybody without being with them for a while. She's not a slut...unlike some people."
Todd's breath catches in his throat and his muscles tighten. Lance didn't just--he wouldn't have--did he just call him a slut? Of course, he briefly entertains the thought that Lance may have been referring to Kurt, but Todd doesn't fancy that notion much more than the other. Fists clenching once more (though, this time, they stay that way) he grits his teeth, wanting to jump Lance right then and there, but still too shocked to act accordingly. Blood boiling, he slowly turns around, face neutral, eyes steady, voice calm. "What did you just say?"
A voice deep in Lance's mind screams for him to repent, to say he didn't mean it and calm down before they both do things they'll regret. His eyes narrow and he straightens to his full height, towering over Todd. "Messing around while you're high is one thing. Fucking one of your worst enemies while he's under the influence is something else entirely."
Todd also straightens to his full height, bringing him to the impressive height of.. just under Lance's chin, damnit. Regardless, his stance is unwavering and he looks Lance in the eye, glaring daggers. "First of all," he begins, voice still eerily calm. "Nobody fucked anybody. And secondly," He pauses, jaw tightening slightly, hands beggining to shake. "The weed wore off half way through and I knew exactly what I was doing, so you might as well call me a fucking slut, too, Lance."
Lance grabs Todd's shoulders and shoves him back. "Why're you defending him?! He's just another stupid fucking X-Geek!! Those guys're all the same! Do you really think he's having these same thoughts about it? He's probably so ashamed he already wishes it was some nightmare. Guys like them don't like guys like us!"
Todd stumbles, but manages to stay on his feet. Growling, he darts forward and pushes Lance back, happy to finally be doing something with his twitchy hands. "I'm not fucking defending him, man! And what the hell, 'another stupid fucking X-Geek'?! Can't the same be said for Kitty?! Oh wait, I forgot.." He pauses, extending his hand in a purposely effeminate manner, flipping his hair back. "The situation with your precious little kitten is entirely different.."
Lance shoves him again, harder this time. The ground beneath them begins to shift, imperceptible except to Lance. "I warned you once before, man. Lay. Off...Your little boyfriend's a far cry from Kitty. He probably only did it because nobody else would touch his furry ass."
This time, Todd does fall back, his balance thrown off by the shaking ground below. His look of defiance remains, however, and in fact darkens as soon as Lance's words are spoken. "Everything's a far cry from Kitty to YOU, man.." he mumbles bitterly, though it's loud enough for Lance to hear if he chooses to acknowledge it. "And did you ever think," he continues, louder, voice cracking just a tad. "That maybe *I* did it for the same reason?"
"Fuck, Todd! Is that supposed to be a valid excuse for sleeping with the enemy?! There's nobody else? Bullshit. There's always somebody else, you just have to find 'em. What do you think's gonna happen next time we fight, huh? Hell, you and the fuzzball always ended up beating the crap out of each other before now, what the fuck happened?!"
On the verge of meltdown, Todd receives mixed feelings and jumbled commands from his brain: he wants to rip Lance's throat out, but can't stop his body from shaking enough to stand; he wants to tell the other boy to go fuck himself, but realizes that doing so in his current state would be like suicide; he wants to curl into a ball and cry, but will willingly die before he lets anyone (especially Lance) see him do a thing like that. So what is he supposed to do? "Fuck, I don't know, man!" he shouts, the waver in his voice betraying the hurt he felt. "I've already asked myself the same things a million fucking times over! I don't know what the hell I was thinking, man, it just.. fucking.. HAPPENED. I can't make it go away, so what am I supposed to do, huh? Enlighten me, dawg, PLEASE."
Lance opens his mouth to respond, only to find nothing wants to come out. What CAN Todd do? It's happened, nothing's going to change the fact that it's happened, and as much as he now wishes he hadn't, Lance got himself involved. Confusing as Todd's behavior is, the boy's still like a brother to him, and he realizes he doesn't want to hurt him. Not like this. Not like he's obviously doing, apparent in Todd's wavering tone and shaking hands. Slowly his anger deflates, leaving him feeling hopelessly lost, not a fraction of the leader he's supposed to be. He sighs, turns away and runs a hand through his hair roughly, hoping to buy a few moments to think. And all he knows now is...
"Man, I just...I don't know. I wish to God I did." He turns back, fixing Todd with a gaze he hopes conveys apology. "I didn't mean to ride you like that. It's just...This could bring down a whole mess of trouble, and I don't want to see you stuck in the middle of it."
Todd nods, muscles relaxing slightly, though his hands still tremble every few seconds. As he bows his head, the last of his anger escapes with a shaky sigh and he suddenly hopes that Lance will go away soon because he's not sure how much longer he can last before he rips his hair out in frustration and starts bawling like a baby. "I know it can, yo," he pauses to take a breath, still trying to calm his nerves. "But you ain't gonna say anything, right..? It can't cause that much trouble if everyone just keeps their mouths shut. And as for me getting stuck in the middle of it," He lifts his head up and smiles, though it clearly isn't genuine; more like a mask for the anxiety he's feeling. "That's my problem, foo'. It's got nothing to do with you, so just don't worry about it."
Lance gives a half-hearted smirk, trying to retain some semblance of normalcy in the midst of it all. "It is my problem dude. Don't you listen? I own your ass, therefore it's my problem too." He starts to lay a hand on Todd's shoulder, before realizing the gesture may be less-than-appreciated under the circumstances, and pulling back reluctantly. "Your secret's safe, man. Don't worry about it. You just...you might wanna watch your back for a while, huh? Pietro's good at weaseling out the seemingly impossible secrets, and you can't be certain that the fuzzball-" he glances guiltily at Todd, and decides to drop that particular line. "It still seems like it'll be best for everybody if we just let it go, you know? Just think about it, okay?"
Just think about it. Second time Todd's gotten that advice tonight, and it isn't any better this time around. He told Kurt he'd think about it--think about what to do next, what it all meant, but he didn't even know where to start. He'd ran the whole situation through his head more times that he'd like to admit, and he still isn't any fucking closer to solving the big 'what now' mystery.. and now Lance wants him to think about letting go of the whole experience. How the hell can you let go of something like that..? Maybe pretend to forget about it, but.. Todd isn't so sure he wants to do that. He isn't sure what he wants at all. /What the fuck have I gotten myself into..?/ "Yeah. Yeah, I'll think about it, man.."
Deciding it's best to just leave Todd be, for now, Lance turns toward the stairs with a sigh. "I'll be upstairs, if you need to talk about...anything else." As he walks he pulls the long-forgotten plastic bag out of his pocket and stares helplessly at the contents. "After that, I need some of this."
Todd frowns at Lance's retreating form, half relieved to be alone, while the other half wishes for.. well, he isn't sure. Mainly wishing for Lance, he supposes; Lance's presence, Lance's voice.. but with everything that's happened, coupled with the disturbing thoughts he's recently been having everytime the other boy lays a finger on him, he decides being alone is best right now. Sighing, he lets himself fall back, further dirtying the floor with his muddy, stained clothes as he sprawls out on the carpet, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts turn in his head, trying to make sense of things, working hard to fit pieces of this screwed up jigsaw puzzle together, but he doesn't get very far before sleep begins clouding his mind. As his vision is shrouded in darkness, his last conscious thought is: what the hell is school going to be like on Monday?