Title: "Weigh It."
Author: pari106
Code: "Faculty" (movie), slash
Pairing: Casey/Zeke
Rated: PG-13
Disclaimer: Nothing's mine but this short story.
Archive: Tweaked: of course.  Anyone else:if you ask.
Feedback: please
E-mail: pari106@hotmail.com
URL: http://www.geocities.com/pari106/index.html
Summary: "Celebrating.  Something like that."
Fav "Faculty" character? Casey


~'~'~

"Weigh it," Zeke had said.  When Stokely hadn't wanted to take the test.

Hell - none of them had wanted to take it.  Except maybe Casey.  Maybe, secretly, Casey 
- who didn't mind having to get high to prove himself.  If there was ever a time in his life 
when he needed a good tweak, it was then.  

The test.  To prove who they could trust and who was already gone.  And Stokely didn't 
want to "put that hack drug up my nose."

"Aliens are taking over the world," Zeke had told her.  "Weigh it."  So Stokely did.  And 
she passed.

'Weigh it.'  The words repeat in Casey's head.

Head.  Splitting head.  Splitting headache.  Whatever.  But Casey feels like his head itself 
is going to split open at any moment, banging against the bathroom's tiled floor.  He sees 
stars.  Stars.  And wonders, half-conscious, which one Mary Beth is from.  Was from.

Whatever.

Beautiful stars...

Wet floor.  *Hard* floor.  With Stokely only - shit - only a couple of rooms away, and 
she has to have figured out, by now, what Zeke and Casey are doing in the showers. 

Celebrating.  Something like that.  Casey has never seen movie heroes celebrate by 
giving each other blowjobs in a school gym, but Casey isn't going to complain.  Even if 
the floor *is* hard.  And wet.  And probably not too clean.   With nothing to grab onto but 
flat, slick tile, and Zeke's head.  Not gonna grab Zeke's head; wouldn't want to be too 
pushy.  Even if Casey *is* feeling pushy.  Desperate.  Oh-my-God-that-is-awesome 
desperate.  Whatever.  Even if Casey does need something to grab onto.  Something to 
squeeze, something to claw.  Something, anything, to relieve the pressure - oh, fuck, the 
pressure - building inside of him, making his whole body buck and squirm.

Pressure.  Stars.  Hard.  Wet.  God.

And laughter.  Zeke's laughter.  Zeke, laughing around Casey, sheathed deep in his 
mouth, then pulling back despite the other man's moans and protests.  

"That feel good, Case?" Zeke asks, before going back to work.  

Head hurts.  Nothing to hold.  Hard.  Wet.  Blood and sweat and Zeke's own cum still 
coating his skin.

Pressure.  Zeke's smile.  Zeke's laugh.  Zeke's scent.  Zeke's mouth.

Heaven.

'Weigh it,' Zeke says in Casey's mind.  Casey does.

"Oh, yeah..." he moans.

Heaven.