i love my crooked neighbour with all my crooked heart;
grinchinski
Life is a game of chess, or so would Brett like to believe. Things have functions and so do people, and if you move them into the right place, they surely will perform as such. Immanuel Kant would greatly oppose to the activity that Brett carried out, and he would also condemn the consequences of their action.
A copy of the Metaphysics of Morals was stained that day after Brett and Seth left the library, and Brett took it home almost as a war trophy, even trolling a bit with the librarian as he stayed behind the check out the book. Seth always walks away like he had never meant to meet Brett at all, and Brett always pretends that he didn't care.
He didn't mind at first. Then he saw him crying. Seriously, he just couldn't stand it when people cry. He always thought that Seth was one of those bullet-proof boys -- nothing fazed him, and they could fuck however hard they want without having stupid emotions involved. But then Seth had to break down, and he had to witness the boy in tears, frustrated, torn.
It was human nature to want to give him a hand when he was down on the library floor. It was just the small moment of his conscience, that perhaps aside from the sex, he could actually be nice to Seth, and perhaps, perhaps, the boy would actually lighten up in the slightest.
He was wrong, and he was proven wrong with his chest burnt by alphabet soup and the beatings from a baseball bat wielded by the boy's twin brother.
He should have checked out, but he didn't. What a mystery, something keeping Brett Talbot around this huge mess.
Seth still texted him for sex. They never got to talk about it again, mostly because the moment of reunion was overtaken by the pure lust of each other. Study week was about to start as finals approached them, and a small part of Brett wondered if Seth had done his essays by now. He could use Siri, right? He knew one thing about the boy, and it was his reluctance to be helped.
The book rested on his lap as Brett lay down in bed, musing. He could still feel the boy's teeth on his shoulder, oh so ghostly, haunting him. His arms locking around his neck. His legs around his waist. His warmth embracing his length.That was the only sensation that told Brett someone wanted him madly at that moment.
Seth was difficult, particularly for Brett, and the stubborn boy was trying his best to stay this way, and to get over his goddamn feelings for the boy who was incapable of receiving such.