Chapter Text
Maxxie found it in Angie's classroom after everyone had left. It was a whole file, not just a single sheet of paper, and it had Tony's name on it, which was what made him glance twice before realizing what it was.
He looked around to check that nobody was watching him, then opened it carefully. He didn't really - he didn't want to read it, really. He'd - he was just curious! He wanted to know what Angie was doing with a file about Tony on her desk. He could pretty much guess what it was. Some kind of evaluation, probably.
But that wasn't why he read it. No, Maxxie wanted to know why Tony did the things he did, why he acted the way he did. Because Tony - Tony was a mystery. Tony was a riddle waiting to be solved. And Tony had hurt him.
It was - it was strange how Maxxie had come to care about Tony in the past year since they'd first met. But then, Russia. After Russia all had gone to hell. Maxxie couldn't help it, he really wanted the easy friendship back. He wanted the Tony who would sit next to him and listen to his sorrows, not the one who'd forced him into sex after he'd been too drunk to protest.
He didn't know what he was hoping to find in the file, maybe some clue, maybe some hint as to what made Tony tick. But when he started to read, it wasn't what he'd expected at all.
The title read: Psychological Analysis: Tony Stonem and it was written by Angela Ackart, psychology teacher at John Cabot College, Bristol.
This was not something Maxxie had been supposed to see, not to mention to read. He knew that. His conscience spoke up, made him look away for a few seconds. This wasn't his thing. He didn't even like to mess in other people's business. But his curiosity was piqued. He was curious. Some day, he knew, it would really get him into trouble.
Still. Tony, psychological evaluation. He couldn't resist. He just couldn't. Not after the stunt Tony had pulled, not after everything the boy had done to Maxxie and Michelle. So Maxxie went on, not without another quick glance around to make sure Angie hadn't returned.
The patient: Tony Stonem, 17 years of age, parents married, one sibling, a younger sister. Full report on psychological status as of March '07.
Maxxie read on... first signs of neutralized sense of conscience at an early age -- egocentric behaviour ... without realizing repercussions of his actions towards society in general or his own close circle of peers.
There were a few paragraphs about Tony's family life there... lack of a dominant father figure ... exploits his above average intelligence to degrade and humiliate and oftentimes enrage... plays out his superiority and gain self-esteem by ranking himself above the minds of those same adults who are supposed to raise him...
Maxxie's cheeks flushed when he realized what the next part was about. ... first sexual experiences ... no emotional attachment ... The report mentioned an early girlfriend. ... mistreats and deprecates the girl, at which point she leaves him. At this he turns to another girl without greater sense of loss or remorse.
His stomach contracted at the information. He wondered - but he didn't have time, and there was still another page in the document. He turned the page, hastily scanning the next paragraphs, reading out pieces and parts, ... shows the typical traits of superficial charm and witty intelligence... lack of interest in any form of emotional bonding and antagonistic stance towards any form of affection ... no aggressive behaviour, instead uses his intelligence and ability to attract people to play out his sadistic streak, hurting and degrading people close to him as he plays with their love towards him and their devotion towards a friendship with him for which he has no regard whatsoever.
There was more, about lack of empathy and Tony's ability to manipulate and act his way into people's affections, coerce others to enter a sexual relation with him or to make them forget about his unfulfilled obligations. At the end, there was a signature and the school seal.
Maxxie's throat felt dry. This was Tony? Tony, in a nutshell? He couldn't believe it. Tony wasn't a piece of paper. Tony was a person, Tony was so much more than this - wasn't he? Because if this was true, he had no feelings, no - no guilt, no love towards anyone. And - and that was - what -?
Maxxie put the sheet back into the file holder and was about to go through the rest of the data, school records, doctors' evaluations, when he realized there were steps right outside the door. Quickly, he put the file back about where he'd found it and hastily moved away from the desk, into the middle of the room, taking a stance like he'd just been practicing a few steps - which would explain why his face was burning and he was slightly out of breath.
The door opened and he breathed out when he realized it was Angie, not some of the other teachers who might actually realize that something was up.
"Maxxie," she said, wonder in her voice. "Why - I thought the classroom was empty. Why are you still here? Is there something you wanted?"
Maxxie forced himself not to glance at the file on her desk and shook his head. He couldn't quite call up a smile. "I just wanted to apologize for making a fool of myself today in class and for interrupting your lesson. That was very rude of me."
A slow smile formed on her lips and her eyes glimmered with understanding. "Don't worry about it, Max. Though I would really rather you apologized to the people you hurt, in person instead of in front of the whole classroom, it wasn't that big a deal. Are you all right now? You seemed pretty shaken up when you spoke up earlier."
"I'm fine," he said. Calm, he told himself. He would think about the file later, right now, he had to get out of here without being rude to Angie again. "I just - wanted to apologize."
"Well -" Angie nodded. "Apology accepted, then. Now, go on. Your next class must start every second now."
Maxxie excused himself and backed out, relieved. He didn't have any more classes today. But he did wish he'd had time to make a copy of that analysis.
Or maybe not. Because thinking about it made shivers run up and down his spine. Reading it again? The notion alone made him uncomfortable.
The thing he couldn't get out of his head, however, was that he'd featured in the file as well. And that - that just wasn't what he'd expected of Angie. But then, he'd not expected Tony to be a sociopath either, and look how wrong he'd been about that appearance.
~*~
It was strange, because before, Maxxie, while caring about him, had never given Tony much conscious thought. Tony was a friend with whom he hung out occasionally. Anwar and Chris, yes, those two were people he was close with – as close as a guy could be with his guy friends without appearing too close.
Chris was friends with Jal and Jal with Michelle, and Michelle was Tony's girlfriend – had been Tony's girlfriend. And that was how he'd met Tony in the first place. They had grown into a group of friends with time, of course. Only he seemed to be lacking the group suddenly, now that he'd fucked up things with Anwar and Michelle both.
The first thing Maxxie remembered about Tony was a moment of embarrassed silence when Chris had mentioned the gayness of tap-dancing; and then Tony had said he didn't care one way or another who he slept with. As long as he slept with anyone and wasn't a bloody virgin.
Maxxie smiled at the memory.
Now, Tony was the guy who'd forced a blowjob on him while he'd been drunk on a bottle of vodka; a half-assed blowjob, because if there was one thing Maxxie remembered about Russia, it was pushing Tony away from his dick. Teeth, man. Teeth were not going anywhere near his cock if he had anything to say about it.
And now, Tony was the guy whose whole fucked-up psyche was lying around in a file on Angie's desk.
Maxxie walked home slowly that day. Slowly, and very, very thoughtfully.
~*~
Dancing lessons in the afternoon went horrible. He missed his cue at least four times, kept mixing up steps and had no rhythm to speak of.
He was good. He knew he was good. But obviously, good wasn't good enough if his mind was pre-occupied with scraps of information that kept coming back from the report. Manipulating, controlling, sadistic streak, it was…
"Right. That's it for today," his trainer said and shook his head.
He had over half an hour left yet. When he said so, the trainer told him to go home and get his head out of his arse. To get whatever girl- or boy-trouble he had over with and to come back when he was ready to work concentrated.
His cell phone rang when he was packing his bag. He had a joint in his pocket with it and it made him think of the way Tony'd been pressing against his back this morning, bodies close together, arm around his neck like he was almost going to kiss him, but not quite. He'd felt Tony's excitement at the proximity, his faster breathing, cock half-hard against his arse and the way he'd shivered when Maxxie's mouth had almost brushed his cheek.
"Yeah?" his voice came out rougher than usually when he picked up the call.
"You finished with your tap-dancing classes?" Tony's voice rang into his ear. "You sound –"
"What the fuck, Tony? What do you want?"
"Meet you, obviously."
"What? Why?"
"Michelle's still pissed. And I need a quick shag. You free?"
For a moment, Max had the deep desire to punch him in the face and jam a knee between his legs, Michelle-style. Then he just clicked his cell shut and shook his head. Bloody hell, that boy had some nerve.
His cell rang again a few seconds later. He pulled his shirt on over his head and zipped his jeans, letting it ring until he was finished packing up, then he swung the bag over his shoulder and picked up once more.
"Fuck off, Tony."
"I was kidding, geez. Relax."
"Yeah, right." Maxxie rolled his eyes and made his way out of the sports facility. It was one thing for Michelle to call him a slut. He'd deserved that one. Tony, though? Tony had probably fucked more people than the rest of the group combined.
"C'mon, Maxxie. I just wanna apologize."
Right. … able to act considerate and loving for personal gain…, wasn't that it? Maxxie sighed.
"The others aren't talking to you," he concluded.
And Tony was still a person. He still needed someone to talk to, from time to time. Especially when Michelle really wasn't going to take him back – which Maxxie hoped for her own sake she wouldn't. Tony'd put her through enough without her ending up broken into sharp little pieces again. They both had, he added with a twinge of guilt. God, how was he ever going to make that up to her?
"They will again, in a little while, don't worry."
The arrogant tone in his voice made Maxxie wince. Narcissistic. Egocentric, holds himself in very high regard.
'He thinks they are always going to come crawling back, because they love him,' he realized. Suddenly, he understood why the report had so pressingly emphasized that Tony was unable to form emotional attachments. If he saw love as something that held people contained and bound them to another person with mind and body, of course he'd force himself not to feel any of that.
"Maxxie? You wanker, talk to me, are you jerking off or something?"
"Wha-? No! Fine. Fine, meet me in the evening. The park, eight pm, all right. I'll be there, you have ten minutes."
He clicked his phone shut once more; this time, he turned it off. No more ringing. He shouldn't have done that. He really, really shouldn't have asked Tony to meet him, after everything that had happened recently.
He was already giving in to him. He knew what Tony was, he knew how he played people, and he was giving in. Again. And this time, he wasn't even drunk.
~*~
Max lived in a house about half a mile east of Jal, a good mile from Sid's home. Chris was the one who lived nearest to him, which was why they knew each other longest. Max had moved to Bristol after his parents had divorced; his mother had a girlfriend in town. She'd gotten a job at the construction company as architect and it had been the perfect opportunity for them to finally get their own house, move out of the little flat in the middle of London.
When he returned home from practice, his mom was still at work. She always worked late these days. Maxxie understood that, she had to pay the house off and make enough money to feed herself as well as Maxxie and his little brother.
"Luce?" he called, closing the door behind himself. "You home?"
His brother was eleven years old, a right little prankster and just as hyperactive as Maxxie had been his age, which was why his mom had sent him to tap-dancing classes in the first place. Football really hadn't been his sport, even though he did enjoy the occasional game and was pretty good at it, too.
Luce was all about the football, though, which was fine with Maxxie, as long as he took the ball outside. Somehow, the little bugger kept breaking the windows and mirrors in the house.
"Luce?" he yelled again. Hm. He should have been home for hours already. Where -?
"'m sorry. I just tried to make lunch," came a small voice from the kitchen door.
The boy who emerged was scrawny, had bright blonde hair, and flour on his cheeks and nose. He was holding a ladle in his right hand, from which pancake dough dripped slowly onto the floor next to his bare little feet.
The day had been horrible up until now. The guilt about the break-up, the name-calling, the whole outing in front of the psych class, then finding out about Tony being a freaking sociopath. Maxxie couldn't help it.
He dropped his bag on the floor, slid down the wall and landed on his butt, head in his hands. He felt like crying from exhaustion, but instead laughed to cover up the tears.
~*~
It took Maxxie a while to clean the kitchen after hurricane Luce had wrecked havoc in there. He kind of pitied Chris and Michelle, who'd had to bear the brunt of the group's parties a few more times than was probably bearable. It had never occurred to him to offer help with the clean-up. Now he realized it would have been the polite thing to do.
At least, he didn't have to clean up vomit and alcohol. The walls had dough stains and the floor was covered in eggshells, flour, sugar and droplets of milk and egg whites. So was the kitchen stove, and about a dozen pans, pots, and bowls. But all in all, it was pretty tame.
It was half past seven when he realized he'd spent the good part of the afternoon cleaning. Luce had made himself scarce.
"Hey, little man," Maxxie called up the stairs, knowing it would be heard in Luce's room. "You want some real food now, or what?"
He put the sandwiches he'd prepared quickly on a plate on the table and took one for the way. It wasn't actually that far to the park, but he wanted to get a quick run in before he met Tony. He would be completely exhausted and in need of a shower and he wouldn't think of overstaying in case Tony managed to talk him into more than just a ten-minutes-apology.
It was strange, he realized. Finding out how dangerous Tony could be, how he enjoyed hurting people to relieve his own boredom – that had woken something inside him. Suddenly, he was planning ahead to avoid getting caught by him, scheming to make sure he didn't fall into any traps.
And it was fun. It… it gave his life a kick he hadn't ever felt before, it made him actually consider his next move and then the one after that, and his reaction to Tony's reaction and that – that was different.
He was a live-in-the-now person, that's what he was; he almost never wondered what he could do in the future, that wasn't how he'd been raised. He'd been raised to be himself, right now, to be open and honest, but also tactful and polite, cocky but shy and friendly and supportive but also selfish. Because you couldn't get back the moment you lost.
He didn't quite understand what it was about the revelation that had made him adjust this part of his attitude so suddenly; but he did understand that it was a good feeling – to know so much about a person. To have this insight what made a person who they were, and what was needed to have them act and react in certain ways.
It had to be power, 'the most important thing in the universe' as Tony had called it.
Maxxie watched Luce enter the room, flush high in his cheeks and he smiled at his little brother, even nodded at him to take a sandwich. Forgiven. Just so easily, even though he'd cost Maxxie over two hours of his time.
Maxxie wondered if he would ever be able to do that. To use the power he now had over Tony to make him dance like a puppet on a string. Tony enjoyed that kind of power, Tony had fun watching others do what he liked. But Maxxie wasn't like Tony at all. Maxxie was sensitive to other people's emotions, empathic to their pain and willing to love.
"Thanks, Maxxie. You're the best," Luce bounced over and gave him a bear-hug and a huge, face-splitting grin of happy before he grabbed two sandwiches at once and sprinted out of the kitchen, back into his room, or maybe outdoors to play some more footie with the neighbour's boys.
No. Maxxie sighed, rubbed his forehead and shook his head at himself. He wasn't like Tony at all. But maybe… maybe Tony wanted a little bit of this, too. Maybe Tony just didn't know that yet.
~*~
Tap-dancing wasn't at all girly or fluffy or even easy. Or gay, for that matter, because plenty of straight blokes had kicked his arse at competitions already and anyway, where did that stereotype come from?
His point was, he pondered as he sprinted up the streets towards the park to make a quick round before meeting Tony, that he had to fucking work to be as good as he was, to stay as fit as he was, and to keep that body of his as well-trained as it was. It wasn't God's gift to him, that was for sure.
He jogged, did exercises, trained with the freakin' weightlifters to get his shoulders and back in shape. Actually, he realized with a frown, it wasn't really a surprise he was so good at tap-dancing. And people thought it was all talent…
He was sweaty and out of breath when he finished his run at exactly eight pm. The sun was already setting, dawn colouring the sky reddish. It looked pretty and he sat down on one of the benches to gaze up and watch it turn dark blue.
Of course, he was hungry again after that bit of running, and his stomach grumbled. Satisfied, he smiled. Now he'd have to leave in about ten minutes, or die of starvation. Well done, Maxxie, he patted himself on the shoulder.
"There you are. I thought I saw you running about some minute ago, but the flaming pink shirt convinced me it couldn't have been you."
Maxxie returned to earth and glanced at Tony. Tony had his hands buried in his trouser pockets and the corners of his mouth were turned up in a small smirk.
"Here am I, dressed up just for you, and there you go, mocking me again." He smirked back.
Tony seemed relaxed as ever, as if nothing had happened. He sat down next to Maxxie – a little too close for comfort – and pulled out a joint. "You sharing?"
Maxxie shook his head. "Sorry, Tony. I'm not fucking up my hunger with that and I gotta tell you, I could eat at least three burgers right now."
"All right." Tony put it away with a shrug. Apparently, he wasn't on for smoking it alone either, which was interesting.
Maxxie supposed he might be getting paranoid, but hell. What if Tony had wanted him to smoke that to get him high? To make it easier on Tony, to… let him get away without apology. But then, an apology was just words, wasn't it? It wouldn't harm Tony to spit out that he was sorry. On the other hand… what was the stance on apologies? They had to hurt his ego quite a bit, because it was admitting he'd done something wrong and… well.
"You're awfully quiet," Tony said after a moment of just sitting there, hands between his knees. Maxxie could feel his gaze on his own face, very observant, and very aware.
"I'm kind of waiting for you to dish," he said. He looked up at the sky, then to Tony, caught his gaze and held it. He'd been wondering if he would be afraid of Tony; if he'd chicken out the last minute, because Tony was… well, Tony was dangerous, in some sense. And if there was one brand of people Maxxie had never wanted to be around, it was dangerous people. He didn't need the trouble. He'd always ever wanted to be a normal teen, go to school, dance the dances, live the parties, make out with some hot blokes, fall in love with some gorgeous boy who'd make him so happy he couldn't breathe -
"Right. Yeah. So… I guess I'm sorry?" Tony smiled uncertainly.
"You guess you're sorry?" Maxxie repeated. "You guess?"
"I am sorry," Tony nodded, smiled again. There was the beginning of a bloody blush on his cheeks, and Maxxie could not believe he was actually seeing this. Tony Stonem, shy? That was new for sure. For being a really self-confident guy hundred percent of the time, he sure played this part well.
"You think this is getting you off the hook?" Maxxie tried to sound as incredulous as he could. He knew Tony honestly believed this would suffice. That at least he knew was the truth.
"What else do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you that you look very pretty, too? That I love you? That you… what was it? Make my world stop spinning?"
"Wait – what? The fuck? What are you talking about, you tosser?"
Tony shrugged. "That's what she wanted me to say when I went to apologize to her."
"Michelle?"
"Yes, Michelle, who did you think I meant?"
"Hey, don't get cheeky with me, man. 's not my fault your screwing around destroyed your relationship with her."
"Actually, my screwing with you did that," Tony said.
Maxxie opened his mouth to protest, but it was kind of true. If he hadn't given in to Tony that night, if he hadn't let Tony kiss him, Michelle would have never found out about any of the others.
But still. He might have been a piece of work for making out- okay, having sex – with her boyfriend; but Tony took things to a whole new level by actually fucking around behind her back.
"You're going to make me responsible for that now, huh?" he said and rubbed his eyes, tired. "God, I need a shower." He should have known this wasn't going to go anywhere.
Tony smirked. "You smell nice, actually." A moment later, he had his nose buried in Maxxie's neck, arm around his shoulders and was pulling him close, in for a kiss. For just a split second, Maxxie gave in to the kiss, let Tony stick his tongue into his mouth and enjoyed it so much that it got a moan out of him, then he remembered that this was not what he'd been set on doing and broke free, pushing Tony away and off the bench they'd been sitting on.
"Fuck!" Tony swore. The knees of his trousers were dirty where he'd landed and his hands had caught the fall, but now they were covered in clay, too.
Maxxie ran the back of his hand over his mouth, and glared back. "What was that supposed to be? I thought we were over this?"
"Oh, come on, Maxxie. You want it too, I know you do. It's not like it means anything, and now you can even get rid of that guilt thing you had going, because it's not like I'm cheating on her anymore."
"You're seriously crazy, Tony. You're completely fucked up, you know that?"
Tony smirked. "And you're still hot for it." His eyes dropped to Maxxie's groin and returned to his face. "Or am I wrong." It wasn't a question.
"I don't want anything from you, you wanker." It wasn't Tony. It was the kissing and the sex and the fact that he hadn't had a good shag in almost a year. Maxxie stood up, ready to leave, to go back home. Because seriously, what the hell? What… what was this even supposed to mean? Angie was right; Tony was psychopathic, completely out of control. "I came here for an apology, asshole, not for a quick shag."
Tony rose as well, not bothering to dust the earth off his trousers, because he wiped his hands on them anyway. Instead, he came closer, leaned over right into Maxxie's personal space like he belonged there and whispered, "I'm really sorry I wasn't good enough last time. I got some practice in. Wanna try again?"
"Enough, all right?" Maxxie said disgusted, shoved him out of his space and narrowed his eyes. "Game's over, Tony, you did your thing, you had your fun. Now leave me the fuck alone."
He moved past the other boy to get the hell out of there. He'd thought maybe he could get through to Tony by being… supportive. But Tony didn't need supportive. Tony needed a good screwing over, to feel on his own hide what it felt like to be cheated and betrayed and tossed away after use and what it felt like to be exploited and played and hurt over and over again.
"Aw, Maxxie, are you sure you don't want to?" Tony called after him.
Maxxie wanted to, he really wanted to feel Tony's lips against his own again, Tony's hands on his back and his mouth whispering down his neck, but… it had to be planned. It had to carefully constructed, it had to be controlled, from the start to the end, so he wouldn't fall for it himself.
Tony's hand on his wrist made him turn around and yank it out of the other boy's grasp. Tony seemed not to be quite finished yet; this time the smile on his face was belittling. "You've never done it before, is that it? Is that why you won't fuck around? Because you're a bloody virgin waiting for love to show up?"
Oh, rich. Maxxie rolled his eyes, growing seriously annoyed now. Fine. Fine, if Tony wanted it that way, Tony was going to be in over his head and Maxxie would make bloody sure Tony was not going to back out until Maxxie said so. He wasn't exactly the slut everyone now thought he was, but he had had a boyfriend or two and a few rather nice experiences back in London. And hell, if Tony had half the experience Maxxie expected, it might even turn out to be more enjoyable than teeth marks on his dick.
Never let it be said that he didn't have the spine to fight back, especially when he would find out exactly what made one Tony Stonem tick.
"I'll make you a deal, Tony," he said, took a step forwards and looked him straight in the eyes, unafraid. One little boy with a superiority complex was not going to make him feel bad about himself.
Tony's grin was feral, attentive, and his eyes sparkled in excitement. "Dish up, baby."
"You want to have sex with me so desperately, fine. We'll have sex." For a moment, Tony's eyes widened, as if he hadn't expected that, but he managed to catch himself quickly and just raised an eyebrow for more instructions. "Once, however, is not on. If we do this, we'll have lots of sex. We'll have sex whenever I want, or whenever you want, too, to make it fair. For one month. Starting tomorrow."
That didn't seem to be what Tony had expected either. He seemed baffled, if anything, and slightly suspicious. "If you're expecting some sort of ridiculous love affair or fidelity or that I –"
"Oh, yeah, that." Maxxie put his hand on his hip and shook his head. "Right, I forgot. No emotional attachment allowed. I don't care who you fuck, you wanker. This is sex, nothing more or less. This is me, teaching you the moves." Which was fairly insulting towards Tony, if you looked at it from Maxxie's point of view, but that was going to be for personal enjoyment.
Tony cocked his head to the side. "… why a month?"
Maxxie started to wander off, turned around once more. "Because, Tony, if you really want me to give you something as valuable as sex with me, I at least want it to be worth my while. And at the end of the month, I really hope you'll be good enough to be that. If you're not, I'll join up with Michelle to tell everyone how bad you're in bed."
He grinned, waved one last time and took up another jog towards his home before Tony could get another word in. He didn't think he'd done so badly. Not badly at all.
~*~
"Come on, hurry up, Luce, I need to brush my teeth!"
"Yeah, yeah, give me a minute," Luce yelled through the door and then, "why don't you go downstairs, anyway?"
"Because my toothbrush is in this bathroom, not downstairs. And anyway, you've been in there for half an hour, what's taking you so long?" Maxxie narrowed his eyes. If Luce was actually wanking in there – was almost-twelve old enough for that? Confused, he tried to remember, but failed miserably to recall his first time jerking off and yeah – hm. No, maybe he shouldn't be thinking about that.
"All right, all right, I'm out already," Luce had a towel around his waist, hair dripping wetly on the floor, leaving a trail of water behind him. He glared as he walked past Maxxie and muttered something under his breath Maxxie didn't catch.
"What was that?"
"I didn't say anything."
"Hurry up with the clothes, cub, and anyway, I made breakfast, but the tea's cold by now. We need to leave in ten –"
He stopped talking mid-sentence, catching sight of Luce's naked back and calves as he stomped towards his room and vanished inside. Maxxie had to blink. He hadn't imagined the bruises, had he? They'd been there, blue and green, some of them already dark violet. What the fuck?
"Luce?" he called after the boy, uncertain.
"Yeah, I'm hurrying, don't stress, we're not going to be late!"
"I didn't mean…"
"Just do your own stuff, I'll be ready when you are, promise!" Luce called.
Maxxie shook his head in confusion. Right now, there was no time, but he'd have to ask about that when they were both back from school later today. That had looked like Luce had been trashed to an inch of his life!
Strange. He took out his toothbrush and frowned at his own image in the mirror.
~*~
Tony didn't meet up with him before classes, nor did he show any sign of recognition when they entered the classroom together. Chris was mumbling about a party on Saturday and Michelle was glaring at everyone who dared even look at her.
Maxxie glanced at Anwar out of the corner of his eye, but the other boy wasn't even looking in his direction, and that hurt a lot. Anwar was being so stubbornly dumb, it wasn't even funny. God, Maxxie just wanted his friendship, his acceptance, like they'd been before, before Anwar had blurted out that he was an intolerant asshole. Religion, yeah, sure. As if Anwar had ever cared about his religion before.
He'd sat down in the back of the classroom today to be able to draw a bit while Tom, the teacher, droned on in the front, but he was very glad he'd chosen his seating so well when he felt his cell vibrate in his trouser pocket. He carefully opened the text message and read:
I accept.
He glanced up at Tony, but Tony was staring straight ahead, paying a hell lot more attention to the lecture than the rest of the students combined.
He wrote back, I didn't doubt it and sent the message. His pencil scraped over the paper as he finished Michelle's facial lines and started on the hair. She looked really pretty today, eyes blazing with fiery determination. Maxxie had to admit, he liked her a whole lot better without Tony to drag her down.
His cell vibrated again. Stay alone during the break. I'll meet up with you.
And that was that. Maxxie hid his phone again and ignored the quickened pace of his heartbeat.
~*~
He'd been expecting Tony to play around, make him wait the whole lunch break without showing up, if just to prove who had the upper hand in this game of theirs. But surprisingly, Tony didn't even wait for Maxxie to get out of the school building, before cornering him against his locker with his hands left and right of his head.
"So…" he said softly and smirked slowly.
Maxxie stared up at him, blinked, made his body relax from the tension that had overtaken the moment Tony pushed into his personal space.
"What, you wanna start this here?" he asked, because he was pretty certain Tony didn't want this to become public knowledge. Not the bisexual thing, pretty much everyone knew about that after yesterday – Michelle throwing it into Abigail's face hadn't much helped the matter either. But the fact that Tony and Maxxie weren't done yet screwing around… well. Tony might not want that to get out, in case he had plans with Michelle. He seemed pretty convinced she'd come back to him.
But who knew. Maxxie knew he had to be careful not to let Tony make most of the decisions. If he started like that, he could as well give the whole thing up. This was about Tony not in control. This was about Maxxie being in charge.
"No," Tony said, pressed their bodies together for a second before backing off immediately. "As fun as that might be to watch, I think this is personal business."
And if Maxxie wanted to make this whole thing public, well, he'd be certain to arrange a tape or two just in case. He'd just forget to tell Tony about them.
~*~
As it was, Maxxie didn't much care when they'd start this whole thing, but he was a little surprised when instead of yanking him to the next men's room, Tony simply made his way outdoors to where the group usually hung out. Chris, Jal and Cassie were sitting there already, talking.
When Jal noticed Tony approaching, she rolled her eyes, grabbed her backpack and excused herself, not without giving him a reproachful scowl. Maxxie tried to catch her eye, but she didn't even look at him. He really liked her, she was feisty and clever and he could kind of understand why she wouldn't talk to him after what he'd done to Michelle. What he was still doing to Michelle.
He pushed the guilt away and sat down next to Chris, who glanced at him and held out a joint to share. Maybe at least Chris wasn't too angry with him. He hadn't given any indication that he cared about the whole fiasco in Russia, but… well. Maxxie knew about his secret affair with Angie, so maybe he was appalled, too, and just didn't say so because he was afraid Maxxie would give him away.
"Thanks," Maxxie said and shook his head. "I got practice later, can't dance high, can I?"
Chris grinned back at him. "Right, man. Forgot."
He felt a gaze rest on him, half-expected it to be Tony watching him, but when he turned, it was Cassie. Her eyes were wide open and she was staring at him; only her gaze kept flickering back to Tony, who was standing a few feet away from them, just leaning against the small wall and overlooking the grounds.
"So how about that party I mentioned in class? Saturday? Maxxie, how's that sound? We can ask Anwar to come, too –"
"No, it's all right." Maxxie smiled bitterly. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, honestly."
"You guys still all up about the whole gay thing? I don't get it, man, he didn't mind till now, what's got his knickers in a twist? You didn't try to get into his pants, did you?"
Maxxie looked at Chris and blinked. "What?"
"I mean, Anwar. He's never minded the gay before, so why the sudden –"
"Oh, fuck you, Chris. You know what… just… I'm going to the canteen to get some food, I'm hungry."
Chris gave a yelp when Cassie poked him with her elbow. "Wait, what? What did I say?"
Maxxie heard her dreamy voice as she said, "I think you may have implied that he's a slut…"
And Tony's chortling reply, "Yes, that may be something of a sore point by now."
~*~