Web
Part One
Author: kevswitchau
Pairing: Peter Parker/Casey Connor
Genre: AU: Faculty/Spiderman crossover
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, drugs, language…
Disclaimer: I
don’t own the rights to these characters, I’m just playing with them.
Note:
Thanks again to the Kinky
Hobbit...man, your brain goes where few dare to follow!
And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
IRIS (The Googoo
Dolls)
Casey was sick of it.
He was sick of Delilah
telling him what to do.
Sick of teachers who
didn’t give a fuck that he got the living shit beat out of him day in and day
out.
Sick of Zeke who
treated him like something he’s just stepped in.
Sick to death of the
lot of ’em. Other people are fucked
he thought, then smiled grimly. He liked that. It was his new favourite
saying. It felt good. It felt true.
He was sitting in the
bleachers, watching the stupid goddamn inter-school football carnival, the camera
resting in his lap. Jesus Christ, how many pictures of these asshole posers did
they need? Fucking jocks. They all looked the same to him.
“How much does this suck?”
He looked up at the
sound of the voice, startled to see someone standing over him. He flinched,
waiting for the punch or kick that usually accompanied his interaction with the
guys at the school, but nothing came.
He examined the kid
warily. He was about Casey’s hight- maybe a little taller, brown hair and
glasses. Great. Another geek. That’s all
Casey needed to boost his already skyrocketing popularity.
“Sucks big time, man,”
he answered without much enthusiasm, turning back to the game, feigning
interest.
Go away...go away and leave me....oh fuck.
The kid sat along side
Casey, offering his hand.
“Peter Parker.”
Casey eyed the hand,
and shook it without much enthusiasm. He didn’t want to be too inviting.
Perhaps the nerd would piss off.
“Casey Connor,” he
offered grudgingly.
“Nice camera.”
Casey sighed. This guy
obviously wasn’t going anywhere. He should probably at least be civil.
“Yeah, it’s the
school’s. Taking photos for the paper.”
“No shit,” smiled the
kid, reaching into his knapsack and pulling out a slightly battered Canon. “Me
too.” He removed the lens cap and grinned at Casey. “But this one’s mine”.
Casey studied the guy
out of the corner of his eye. He looked like your typical newspaper nerd, right
down to the thick rimmed glasses perched on his face, but his smile was easy
and his eyes were warm turquoise and Casey found himself thawing a little.
“You don’t play?” he
asked, inclining his head towards the over-inflated drones who were running and
throwing and trying to kill each other. Casey never did get football...except
for the killing bit. Killing a jock. Now there’s a worthwhile endeavour.
Peter chuckled. “Do I look like I play?”
Casey eyed the other
guy. His stomach was flat, his broad chest and shoulders were obviously well
defined, even underneath the black coat he wore.
“Well
actually...yeah.”
Peter looked down at
himself with an odd expression, almost as if seeing his body for the first
time, and to Casey’s surprise he blushed and pulled the coat closed, shrugging.
“Yeah well...I don’t.
I’m not interested. It’s all bullshit. I don’t think anyone should run....”
“Unless he’s being
chased?” Casey offered. The surprise on the other guys face was almost comical.
“Yeah...unless he’s
being chased...”
Casey looked back
towards the crowd of jocks on the field, and his expression darkened. His ribs
still hurt from yesterday. He absently rubbed the bruises on his arms where
bigger, coarser fingers had held him down so that others could make him scream.
He hated it when he screamed. It gave them power.
“Even then it’s a
waste of time,” he muttered. “They still catch you.”
The new guy had the
good sense to stay quiet. Casey respected him for that. Last thing he needed
was to be sharing war stories with another snivelling citizen of Geekdom. But
looking at the kid, he doubted seriously that he’d be the type to wind up
bloodied and crying in a corner of the locker room...just call it a hunch.
Peter put the lens cap
back on the camera and tucked it back in the bag.
“Caffeine break?” He
suggested standing up.
“Not gonna take
photos?” Casey asked, mildly surprised.
“Shit, these guys all
look the same. I can use any of my stock pics and nobody would know the
difference. C’mon.”
Casey grinned, dropped
the camera into his bag and stood up. Against his better judgement, he was
beginning to like this guy.
“Well, well, well...if
it isn’t the geek patrol.”
Casey stopped dead.
Great. Why the fuck wasn’t Gabe on field with the rest of the knuckle draggers.
“I do believe they’re
not interested in our game, Zeke.”
Oh yeah. Zeke Tyler. Casey’s
hell was now complete.
“What’s up, douche
bag? Sick of watching big tough men sweat? Or are you just off to think about
the team and flog the log in private?”
“Yeah fuck you too
Zeke,” Casey grunted.
Zeke was moderately
harmless. Casey could count the times Zeke had hit him on one hand, and that
was only when he was pissed off. Casey could cope with Zeke. Zeke’s greatest
weapon was his tongue, and words never scared Casey.
But Gabe…Gabe was a
different story. Gabe was a sadistic bastard who tortured Casey just so he
could get off on the sounds of the whimpers and the sobbing. And when Casey
screamed...well...that was just a bonus for good old Gabe. He lived for the
screams.
“Who’s your buddy,
asswipe?” sneered Zeke.
Casey turned towards
Peter. He was unreadable. Like a statue. Only his eyes flicking from Zeke to
Gabe and back again betrayed the fact that there was anyone home.
“Peter Parker,” said
Peter, unsmiling, his voice a gentle monotone. But Casey heard something else
behind it, something...hard.
Something not to be fucked with.
Gabe was looking hard
at Peter, his dark eyes flint like. Casey sensed that he’d heard it
too...apparently Gabe wasn’t as stupid as Casey thought he was. The whistle
sounded from the field behind them, and Gabe took the opportunity to break free
from Peter’s glare.
“Shit...that’s us.” He
and Zeke turned and walked towards the field. Half way there, Gabe looked
around again. Ignoring Peter, he fixed his eyes on Casey, and Casey felt his
balls clench...he knew that look. He was in deep shit. Gabe grinned coldly as
he watched the colour drain from Casey’s face, turned, and walked away.
Casey realised that
he’d been holding his breath, and let it out tremulously.
“I fucking hate this
school,” he muttered, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans and
climbing down over the seats after Peter.
Kevswitchau 2002
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