Time to share a ficlet with all of you, originally written for comment_fic some time ago.
Fandom: The Faculty
Characters: Casey, Zeke
Prompt: author's choice, author's choice, "Call me, when you are sober again."
Word Count: 1128 words
Disclaimer: not mine, of course
Casey stiffened when he recognized the slightly blurred voice. How long was it that he hadn't talked to him anymore? It felt like months, though he knew it was only six weeks ago that he jumped out of Zeke's GTO in the middle of the night after their big fight.
He just couldn't stand it any longer; as long as they had been fuck buddies everything had been so easy and he had enjoyed every minute together with Zeke. But finally, he had noticed that this was not enough any longer. He wanted more than just some stolen hours somewhere in a shabby motel room. Dates, clubs, movie nights together. Shared future dreams. A boyfriend who would stand up for him openly.
Zeke would never be willing to give him all that. He was bi, yes, and he obviously enjoyed the hours together with Casey; sometimes Casey even got the feeling that also for Zeke there was more than just sex between them ... but he would never admit this. His whole life was only a show. The bad boy at school, the dealer who produced his own drugs in his garage, the heartbreaker who could get every girl he wanted. No one knew the truth behind his shell. Only Casey had gotten a glance now and then ... and he was fallen in love.
Stupid, he knew it. Even more stupid to talk about his feelings.
"You are such a shit," Zeke had hissed with threateningly sparkling, dark brown eyes.
"Everything was perfect, we have had a good deal. And you ruin everything."
This had been six weeks ago. Since then he hadn't talked to him again. He missed him, but he knew, all he could do was to get over it and to look forward. The surprising offer of his tutor at College was the best what could have happened to him at this moment. A semester abroad in Europe, London, with the prospect of an internship at BBC-Wildlife for another period of six months.
„I can't let you go … not without talking with you one more time.“
Casey stiffened and took a deep breath; he needed a moment to calm down his wild pounding heart. What was that supposed to mean? And why the hell now, of all times? The suitcase was already packed, the flight ticket was booked, his mom was preparing his farewell dinner for tomorrow. The future, he had always dreamed about, was lying ahead of him. And Zeke was not a part of it anymore.
Slightly nervous he licked his dry lips.
„Are you drunk, Zeke?“
Casey huffed slightly.
„Fine. Then better call me, when you are sober again,“ he said.
„Like, when I'm back from Europe. I'm much too busy for your shit at the moment.“
Silence for a long while; Casey wasn't even sure if Zeke was still on the phone. Just when he decided to end the call he heard his voice again.
„Not sure if I will find the courage again.“
„The courage,“ Casey repeated frowning.
„I know, I've fucked it up. You deserve something better than that. But I can't stand it … Herrington without you won't be the same anymore.“
Okay, this … was … kind of disturbing.
„Zeke, you really need to get laid. Go into a club; find someone for a one-night-stand and tomorrow you will be back to your own self.“
„It isn't that easy, you know.“
Zeke's voice sounded low.
„I've tried a bunch of times. It didn't work out well. Because … all I want is to get you back. But this is impossible because you are going to leave me. My life is a fucking mess.“
Casey coughed; he needed to sit down onto the small chair beside him. No, no, no. This was the worst timing he could imagine.
„What the hell do you expect, Zeke? You are talking shit in a drunk state, what you will probably regret soon enough. And you want me to give up all my plans because of that?“
„I don't know. Maybe … “
The unsureness in Zeke's voice was hard to ignore.
„I could try to do better this time. Just don't leave. I can't imagine moving on without you.“
Casey tried hard to keep a clear mind; all his heart wanted was to hurry to Zeke's house, to pull him into his arms, to hold him forever. But that wouldn't be a smart decision. For sure Zeke felt pretty down at the moment; obviously, he started to realize, that his old life as the king of Herrington was over. Most of his buddies from school had already started to move on; went to College, found a job, started a family. So far Zeke had refused to talk about his future; he was still living in the big house of the Tyler's, his bank account was well-stocked thanks to a fund his grandparents had set up for him, he was jobbing now and then in a garage of a friend. Nothing he could look forward to.
And Casey knew, despite his words, nothing would change if he stayed here; not for Zeke, not for him, and not for their relationship. Zeke wasn't ready for it; he was just afraid to be left behind all alone. No; inwardly Casey shook his head; he couldn't stand this any longer.
„Well, I won't give up my dreams, Zeke,“ he finally answered, fighting his tears back.
„Not for some flimsy promises, made in a drunk state. London is my great chance and I won't miss it. I'm sorry.“
The voice filled with bitterness now.
„I actually haven't expected that. Why should you care about me?“
Casey rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling anger rising up. That wasn't fair, was it? He had always cared about him, still did, and Zeke had been the one who had kept him on distance until it had started to drive him crazy.
„Holy shit, so much self-pity,“ he huffed.
„Your life isn't over just because I go to London for some months. Go to bed and get some sleep. When you are sober again, maybe you can start to find out what you want to do with the rest of your life. It's about time to wake up, Zeke.“
He sighed when he noticed that Zeke had already ended the call. What a stupid shit. Tears were burning in Casey's eyes, but luckily there was no time to curl up on the bed and cry. He had still a lot to do before he would set out for his way to London.