standsonhigh | High school AU open post

"Okay. You're right, Koschei. We can do it together." Barty smiled and let go of him, sitting down on the floor and glancing at the television. For one treacherous second he wish he had just stayed out instead of coming back here, but he pushed it away. Such thoughts never helped. Barty took a sip from his coffee and shrugged.

"Just tell me when you want to. I'll go get the tools ready." Shower was a plan for some other time. Although he supposed it couldn't hurt to at least plant the suggestion. "We could take a shower together, too. If you want to."

Koschei only moved slightly to drink his coffee a little more but other than that, he remained rather fixed in one place, not taking his eyes off the TV. Like he had for a very long time now. He didn't even like what he was watching, he was just fascinated by the movement. Koschei didn't have to think when he was watched it, he just distracted his mind from the pain it was in. He didn't understand why everything hurt, it just did.

It only felt better when others were hurting. Their pain dulled his own.

Making a vague noise of interest, turning to look at Barty with a frown. A shower? Did they need one? -- He was sure he showered recently. Or maybe he hadn't? Time was blurring oddly. "I'd have to get up to shower, I don't want to get up yet. I like how I am. Why do I have to shower?"

"You don't have to, Koschei. I just like showering with you. Stay like you are, it's fine." Barty finished off his coffee and turned around because suddenly he felt somewhere between crying and screaming and neither would do, so it was easier to just head for the kitchen and pretend things weren't as fucked up as they were. Koschei would snap out of it, he always did.

He threw the paper cup in the bin and wondered if he should bother cooking something. He wasn't really hungry himself and he was already grateful enough that Koschei was drinking his coffee. Maybe he should take a shower, alone, his head might need clearing, too.

That seemed like the most sensible plan, so he finally settled on that, heading into the bathroom and under the shower. The water was warm and he ended up using the shampoo Koschei preferred because he missed him, which was really a silly thought given that Koschei was sitting right there, but it was true nonetheless. That wasn't the Koschei he could talk to about everything, from utter nonsense to scientific breakthroughs to making mean jokes about anyone or anything they came across, not the Koschei that could still make him feel like he was fifteen and kissed for the first time. He loved him, he always loved him, but sometimes it was really not the same.

He ended up heading back to the bedroom with a towel around his waist, expecting to find Koschei still in the same position.

He wasn't. He was entirely gone from his spot for the first time in days and was instead by the doorway, looking around with an unsettled expression like something was very wrong and he didn't know what. He peered out of the peep hole before making a strange growling noise and slamming himself at the door in anger. "Barty, that postman is back. I told him to stop coming and he won't stop. Why won't he stop? He keeps hiding my mail."

He was sure there was a letter missing, some contact from work. Them begging for him to come back and be as brilliant as he always was. A few junk letters were posted through their mail flap but nothing more, nothing that Koschei wanted to find.

"It's still not here," Koschei called out, throwing each useless letter across the room and in Barty's direction. And then, of course, his focus came on the only other person in the room. The only other person who could of done something here. There was an unsettling level of suspicion on his face. "You -- you didn't, did you? You didn't tell him to come back?"

It was very clear that Koschei had built up something rather fantastical in his head over such a routine thing as post but that was him lately. Never mind that he never told the postman to go away in the first place, only imagined it. He was very convinced that somehow, in some way, Barty was helping this man hide his mail. Trying to keep him away from work.

"Where is my letter, Barty? Hmm? Where is it?!"

"...I don't have your letter, Koschei." He didn't even know what Koschei was talking about, but he was already getting letters thrown at him and he didn't really want to wait for Koschei to think he was hiding anything heavier with sharper edges. He stepped closer, although his heart was beating too fast, but he refused to be nervous (scared) when approaching his boyfriend.

"And I didn't tell the postman to come back, either. Come on, Koschei..." This is crazy, he almost said, but instead he just reached out, slowly, to try and put a hand on Koschei's shoulder. "I'm sure your letter will turn up soon." What letter was he even talking about? "No one took it. I promise, alright?"

"Don't do that, don't try to make it sound like I'm crazy," Koschei snapped, repelling the hand that was on his shoulder and advancing on him. He soon drove Barty back into the wall, pinning him in place with his arms either side, blocking his boyfriend from leaving. "Just tell me what happened to it? I won't be mad. Just say. The more you hide from me, the more it hurts my head. And you know I-I can't think when my head hurts."

One arm moved from it's spot so he could grip his head, making a noise of pain as he did so. He didn't really cope well being stolen from then lied to like this. Not by Barty, he loved him too much to lose him. "Just tell me what you did with my post, please. I don't want to be angry with you, I don't."

But if he didn't get his letter, he was going to have to teach Barty not to lie to him.

Barty wanted to shove him away at first, but he knew better than to do that. The last time he'd tried fighting back he'd woken up, hours later, with a severe concussion. So he just leaned back against the wall and looked at Koschei, trying not to show that he was scared. Thankfully he was a good actor.

"I'm sorry your head hurts, but I'm not trying to make it hurt worse." He did put a hand on Koschei's shoulder again, tried to make it a reassuring touch. "I don't want you to be angry with me. You've no reason to be angry! I didn't do anything with your post. I really didn't."

Koschei took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, because he knew he was being erratic. On some level, he was aware of it. Moving away, he eyed the door again before rushing back over and fully locking it up for safety. He didn't want anyone coming in and trying to take his stuff, he'd spent a lot of money on it and one lock wasn't enough. Not any more. "Say you're telling me the truth, why is the mailman taking my letters?"

Moving back away from the door, he crept back over at Barty with a sure expression on his face. Because he knew, hand on heart, that someone was playing games with him. And it really did hurt to know this.

"I know they'd have to of been trying to get in touch, the place must be falling apart without me," Koschei insisted, moving in closer to Barty and staring at him, as if he wanted some kind of agreement. Some reassurance that he wasn't mad. "They'd have to of sent a letter because they haven't called."

"Maybe it's so chaotic there that they forgot to send the letter?" At least he was now catching on to what Koschei's delusion was and his heart went out to him. He really wished he could hold him, kiss him, just comfort him and actually make him feel better, but that wasn't really how this worked. Not anymore, anyway. Now it could go into just any direction and he just had to hope that he could play along without losing.

He reached out to brush his fingers through Koschei's hair, still feeling scared, wishing he had called Theta when he thought of it before. "We'll sort it out, Koschei." He smiled, not that it reached his eyes. "Together, alright?"

"Okay, yeah, maybe?" Koschei confessed slowly, sure that it could be possible. They could be too swamped to have time to tell him how much they needed him. With a deep breath to calm himself, he moved in closer and let Barty stroke his hair. In his head, this wasn't some childish gesture, it was affection. Love. He got that, he liked it even. That's why he liked having Barty around, he did really love him. It was nice to be adored.

He was about to agree to doing it all together when he looked up and caught Barty's eyes. And he didn't see admiration. He didn't see a yearning to put those morons at work in their place. All he saw was fear and uncertainty. And he just didn't understand why. "Stop looking at me like that!"

And quicker than anyone could reaction, he swiftly ripped free from Barty's soothing hold and lashed out, striking him as hard as he could in the face.

Edited 2013-12-31 07:41 (UTC)

The thing was that no matter how unsure he felt, it came as a shock every time. There was just so much of him that still didn't believe that Koschei would ever want to hurt him. So he stumbled back, eyes wide, his jaw, hell, the entire side of his face throbbing with pain.

It wasn't as if he was a bad fighter. Not at all, really. But even now he couldn't ever bring himself to hit Koschei, not even in self-defense. The most he'd ever done was shove him and struggle against him, but right now he just stood there, unable to do anything. He was naked except for a towel and Koschei stood between him and the very, very locked door, so for various reasons running was out of the question.

"I'll stop, Koschei!" Stop what? He didn't even know what exactly had been so offensive about how he'd looked at him. Lifting his arms to shield his face was about all he could do and he took another step back, only to end up right against the wall again. "Come on. Please. I'll stop."

"But you're still doing it! You're looking at me like you're scared, like you think I'm mad," Koschei accused but, really, he wasn't wrong. He wasn't totally deluded, he was aware somewhere in the back of his mind that he was crazy and probably quite terrifying. It just got jarred behind the drums and he couldn't reason it all out properly. He didn't ever want Barty to be scared of him but no matter what he did, he couldn't make it better.

Taking a few deep breaths to try and hold back his anger, he moved forward and reached out to touch where he'd hit him. Shit. It looked like a bad one. He hadn't meant to hit him that hard. Now Barty was going to look at him like that for days, he was going to have to try and stop that. He couldn't take that look of fear, it hurt every time.

"I didn't mean to do that," Koschei insisted as he moved in closer, cupping where he'd hit almost protectively. "I really didn't. I'm not like that, you know I'm not. It's just hard to think and you're looking at me like I'm mad. Why do you do that?"

Edited 2013-12-31 15:40 (UTC)

"Probably because I'm mad," Barty replied, perhaps with a note of humour that was a lot too bitter to be laughed at. But he held still and he kept his eyes as neutral as he could. "I know. You'd never hurt me, Koschei. I know that."

Right. He really was mad. The thought of just shaking Koschei until his true friend and lover, lost somewhere within the madness, would come back out and stay out was so tempting right now he could almost delude himself into thinking that it could work that way. He had to end this conversation, it was only going to get worse.

"I'm going to get dressed. Tell me if you're hungry or anything." See, normal conversation. He could fake that.

"Course not, not willingly," Koschei insisted with a fairly odd smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was just trying to seem normal to, he didn't want to lose Barty because he was acting -- well, like he was. And he couldn't really help that. "I'll have breakfast, if you're making. I don't care what."

He was trying now, a valiant effort to be normal and civil. Because he didn't want to lose Barty, he couldn't have him leave. If he had to, he'd literally lock Barty away to keep him.

Going over to the sofa, Koschei sat down and stared at the door, fingers tapping out the same four beats as he waited for a sigh. A letter or some kind of contact from the outside world. Some meaning or purpose for him to take. Perhaps he just needed to get out more? Or make inside better? They could have fun, him and Barty. Maybe a night together. They hadn't done anything like that since Koschei accidentally left him cuffed to the bed all night.

"Sure thing, darling." Barty walked into the bedroom and started getting dressed, only stopping once too inspect himself in the mirror. He should get ice on his face, get the swelling down. It might only get Koschei agitated again, too, seeing him hurt like this.

Breakfast. Well, he could do that. Koschei definitely needed to eat. Cooking wasn't exactly his favorite thing, but since eating out or ordering in wasn't happening, he might as well cultivate a talent for preparing food. At least make it edible.

"Anything in particular you fancy?" He came back out, looking at Koschei and noticing the beat, always the same, but not saying anything.

"No," Koschei said bluntly. He wasn't hungry, he hadn't been hungry in days. The last thing he ate was a bowl of cereal the night before last, he'd mostly been functioning on coffee alone. Perhaps that's why he spiralled so much this time, he'd resisted returning to normalcy for so long now that it had taken a mental toll on him. And now he was struggling to play catch up.

Maybe if he showered, had some food and tried to clear his head then things would be better. And if they weren't, why couldn't he pretend? If Barty could then he could. They could share this delusion together.

"I think I should shower," Koschei finally said after a long stretch of silence, slowly climbing up off the sofa and giving Barty a look. Did he shower already today or was that yesterday? He really couldn't keep it straight in his head. "Want to join me or are you good?"

"I'm good," Barty said after the slightest hesitation, hoping Koschei wouldn't take it as rejection. His face hurt, his mood was sour and he really wasn't feeling like taking a shower with the man. He wasn't angry with him, per-se, but sometimes it was difficult to rise above it.

But that Koschei wanted to take a shower was a good sign, a hopeful sign. Maybe he'd finally snap out of this phase and he could just talk to him normally again. They could figure something out if Koschei would only be himself again. "But I'll be getting food ready while you shower. Then we could watch a movie?"

Koschei made a vague non-committal noise as he retreated towards the bathroom, sure he was trying but he's spent several days not speaking and it was taking him a while to get his brain back into gear. He swiftly stripped out of the pyjamas he'd been in for far too long and happily dumped them outside the bathroom, leaving them for Barty to take care of.

Once he was in the shower, he stood there for nearly thirty minutes, trying to adjust his head and push the drums back. Had he not been allergic to pain killers, he would of taken them to calm the headache he was struggling with but instead, he used will-power. Gritting his teeth and forcing himself to cope. When he was completely soaked and finally all washed up and dried, he headed back out of the bathroom with just a towel on.

He needed new clothes. And food. He could actually smell food, it was wonderful. Curiously, he followed the smell till he found Barty, looking at him with an eyebrow raised, clothes entirely forgotten. "Dinner ready?

Barty put the ice pack he'd been holding against his face aside, partly because he didn't want to agitate Koschei and partly because it was getting cold enough to numb him.

"Just about." Dinner, breakfast, whatever. Eggs would be good for Koschei. He wasn't feeling overly hungry himself, his head was ringing, but at least that meant they'd both be having a headache. He handed a plate to Koschei and offered a smile that wasn't too obviously fake before starting to fill a plate for himself, too.

"You smell a lot better."

"I used peach shower gel," Koschei informed him casually like it was actually worthy of note. Pulling his plate closer, he made an effort to eat what had been made for him, his brain trying to make some level of normal speech that Barty would like. He didn't want him to be angry, he didn't want to lose him over this stupidity. Looking at the mark he'd left on the man made his heart ache, he never meant to hurt him like that.

Once he'd eaten enough off his plate, he set his fork down and placed his hands on the table, looking at Barty with a level of unease. Something was wrong and he knew that, he couldn't always dance around it.

"I'm sorry," Koschei said finally, it had been a long time since he'd said that. He wasn't someone who found sorry an easy word to get out. "But it'll be better soon, I promise. I just can't get my brain into gear, the noise in my head is blocking it. Just give me time, I'll adjust. I always do."

Barty blinked at the apology. He hadn't expected it. In the end he shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Not the first time." Wouldn't be the last time, either. He became aware that this response wasn't actually the most sensitive so he reached out to cover one of Koschei's hands with his and catch his eyes. "I know you will. You always do, as you say. I'm just impatient sometimes."

Feeling lonely did that to him. "But, hey, you ate something. That's gotta be a good sign."

Koschei yanked his hand back, looking at Barty with a level of mistrust. The first comment stung and he couldn't help but feel slightly dejected by the idea of being dismissed like that. Sure he kept talking, trying to make it better, but he knew Barty wasn't happy. And it was a countdown now, a race against the clock till Barty left him behind. Alone in his madness.

"You are impatient. You don't understand what it's like, it's easy for you," Koschei snapped angrily, slamming his hand on the table. He caught himself before he did anything else, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to hold back. Pushing his plate aside, he ran his fingers through his hair, not knowing why he kept doing this. The drums were driving him insane.

Standing up in a manic manner, he tried a new tactic. Forget and repress. That would work. If he stayed only focused on the normal bits, he could make this work. "Look, lets not do this again. You wanted to see a film, yeah? Lets do that. A film is good, it's normal."

"You're right. Sorry. I'm working on it, too, alright?" Maybe he was too impatient. He wasn't even sure. No one had ever given him a manual on this. He got up and picked up the plates, because as much as he despised household tasks - he damn well shouldn't have to do them, he hadn't been raised like that, he hadn't studied for that, they could afford help - it did give him something to do, it was a certain routine, it made it easier to focus.

"Sure. Anything you're in the mood for?" Film could be normal, maybe. Perhaps pick one he didn't like all that much, just in case things turned sour. He didn't like associating good things with bad.

Koschei silently moved over to their collection, scanning through them with a small frown till he found the perfect one. The one he knew could make him normal and make Barty look at him like he used to. And, finally, he smiled and grabbed it off the shelf. Spinning around, he presented the film they'd watched together on his first birthday in this flat, the one where they'd been fairly drunk and pretty bored. He'd worn the exact same smile when he presented it to Barty the first time, waving it around like it was the best thing ever. Never mind that it was a kids film.

"This one," Koschei insisted, holding it out for Barty, still smiling. his first proper real smile in days. "It's a great one! I haven't seen it in ages."

Barty felt strange for a moment, strangely protective of the movie, really. As if it was some kind of time capsule holding a part of his life he wasn't sure he'd ever get back again. But then he just looked at Koschei's smile and he smiled back, stepping forward to wrap his arms around him and kiss him, a hand in his hair and his eyes closed. Kissed him just because he loved him and because it was good to be with him. Felt great.

"I'd love that," he told him as he leaned their foreheads together. "I'd really love that."

High school AU open post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Tag before woooork

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)