Pietro and Victor, Friday Evening 1/03/2013

[om_anole]

The room-mates finally address the Tommy sized rift that's been developing between them for a while now


When Pietro zipped into his room, his arms full of scripts, he found Victor conveniently located at his desk. Pietro was aware that Vic was Not Okay, but he'd let his roommate play the avoidant game gladly. Going into the weekend, Pietro  had still been thinking non-stop about Laura's... situation, and coming out of it he had that whole "My Dad Hunted Nazis" thing happening, and neither had left him feeling all that patient with hopeless teen drama.

But now, the scripts were in, and Victor should have the first one. He'd distribute the rest in class on Monday, probably--and then to whoever wasn't in drama who wanted in on the project. Christ knew they could all use something else to think about, in the circumstances. Wordlessly, Pietro superspeed stacked the pile on his own desk, then zipped to Victor's and dropped one off to the side of his. "For you, Dorian."

Having been in his own little world, the sudden breeze caused by Pietro's speed hadn't alerted Victor to the other boy's arrival so when the script suddenly thudded down, he started violently.

"Fuck!" Spinning around he half frowned, half sighed exasperatedly "Heart attack much?" He managed to say to his room-mate, heart currently thudding wildly from the shock.

"You make a convincing valley girl," Pietro said approvingly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning one hip against Victor's desk. "The Victorian pretty boy should be noooooo problem."

"Oh so the play's back on, huh? Figured you'd lost interest in it or something." Victor commented honestly as his heartbeat gradually returned to normal. He'd been sitting at his desk sort of blankly staring at the screen instead of writing his essay. To say he'd lacked motivation for the last week was an understatement but at least he'd calmed down enough to feel like he could stay in the room and not worry about doing something horribly pathetic like crying in front of Pietro.

"Didn't think anyone would be in the mood, once the whole dragon-girl saga got going." Pietro shrugged. "Timing was inappropriate--plus, it takes forever to get this shit together." He tapped the script with one finger. "But Tessa is willing to help out, Ellie and Wanda are on costume duty. The wheels are in motion."

The green boy nodded again before asking "How soon are rehearsals starting?" He wanted to feel excited. The first proper school play and he had the lead but right now he just couldn't.

And of course Pietro noticed. He arched one eyebrow high, arms still crossed, leaning a little more heavily against the desk. Suspicion from earlier in the week all but confirmed, then. "Next week. I'll get Tessa to do a schedule. I promise it won't be too painful."

Victor did his utmost to smile though it was still a weak imitation of a smile more than anything. "I know it won't. It'll be cool. Really."

Okay, this was idiotic. Pietro sighed. "So, just to be clear, you guys broke up?"

He managed not to flinch or even show much emotion on his face, Vic was actually kind of proud of himself for that. Maybe he would make a good actor yet. Wasn't like he hadn't known the question would be asked eventually. 

"Yes. We did." He said quite calmly with a curt nod.

Pietro, on the other hand, visibly relaxed. He opened his mouth, but managed to curb his urge to scream, Oh thank fucking god, at the top of his lungs. Barely. All that came out was, "And you didn't tell me because you didn't want me to dance on your corpse, I take it. Since that's apparently a thing you think I enjoy."

"No, I didn't tell you before now because I needed a friend who'd give me a hug when they heard me say that not look obviously relieved." Victor pointed out because, of course, he'd seen how much Pietro had relaxed instantly. "And no that's not me attacking you or whatever, that's just how things were."

Pietro shrugged. "Fair enough. And it's true, I'm relieved. I'm relieved for you, and for me, and most importantly, for my family." A slight pause. "But I am sorry about the broken heart, if that's worth anything."

Victor thought about pointing out that Pietro's family had shit all to do with his love life but didn't. He didn't have the energy for a fight, especially not one with Pietro. "Yeah, me too." His gaze dipped down as his silently told himself firmly to keep neutral. The last thing he needed was a melt down. "Don't worry, I won't let this shit effect rehearsals or anything. I'll be the most profession Dorian you can imagine."

Pietro waved it off. "Be as amateur as you like. Comes from the word for 'love', after all. What else is the point? Professional just makes me think you'll be like... this, the whole time. No offense, I get that you're headfucked right now, and I am extremely headfucked myself. But that ain't no way to live."

"Going into it I knew it had to end eventually, just didn't think it would end as badly as it did it all." Victor shrugged and sniffed before forcing himself to meet his friend's eyes again. "Is there, um, anything you want to talk about? Anything I can help...?" He offered though he supposed Pietro might not want to confided in him anymore (well as much as he ever did) considering how much Vic had cut him out lately.

Which was exactly what Pietro was thinking. "Nope. My disapproval of your dangerous love affair has created a rift. Not enough of one that I'm not curious and concerned about this bad end you speak of, but enough that I'm aware you won't tell me, and therefore won't feel at all comfortable telling you. But it was good while it lasted."

Pietro's expression was, in fact, one of regret as he said all this. It bothered him, looking at Victor being all forlorn and being utterly unable to do anything. It bothered him that he couldn't tell him about the recent developments; he wouldn't have been able to tell him about the family issues anyhow, but that was neither here nor there.

But it was what it was.

Victor really did flinch that time. The words were brutal on their own and in his already vulnerable state it hurt even worse to hear them. He'd lost his boyfriend and, it seemed, he'd lost his best friend. He swallowed hard and nodded before saying quietly. 

"I didn't think you would want to know."

Pietro liked that look even less. "Victor, I don't know how to explain it in a way that'll make you want to understand. I didn't like it. I couldn't like it because it violates my most fundamental rule--what has been my most fundamental rule since I was born. It doesn't mean I didn't understand or care what it did to you.

"But I don't blame you for wanting to talk to someone who's more sympathetic. I would too. I do too."

The younger boy nodded again, mostly to stall for time as he failed to come up with any words. Defending himself was pointless at this point especially when he didn't want to start a fight. He wanted even less to cry but could feel it building. Ultimately he just busied himself with getting a bottle of water the old fashioned human way and tried to not think about how much he hated his life at that moment.

"Wow, not even using the tongue. Now I know you're fucked up." Pietro shoved off Vic's desk and returned to his own at his usual rate. "You want some music, or just quiet? I can use headphones."

The fact was Victor hated everything about his mutation just then, it was the mutations fault that he'd had to lose the greatest guy. If he hadn't been this lizard thing then he wouldn't have had to break up with Tommy, not just break up with him but completely destroy him. He'd had to be cruel in the end to make Tommy stop fighting for him since Tommy hadn't understood at all where any of it had come from. How could he, after all?

"I don't mind." He said softly, tearing the paper label from the bottle. 

Pietro flicked on Franz Ferdinand, only belatedly realizing he had done so because he accidentally associated them with Vic, since the Halloween playlist.

"Outsiders". That had been Victor's song.

But it was the newest album that began bumping through his speakers, "Ulysses", which had been Remy's. Vic trumps Remy friend-wise?

Yeah. Obviously. 

Pietro pulled out a script to flip through and threw himself into his desk chair. "For the record, I don't like this. I just don't know what to tell you." A noticeable pause. "You're the first friend I ever had. I don't know what people do when this happens."

It was why he had been as tolerant as he had this whole time. Anyone else and he never, ever would've made so many excuses not to rail against them. He would probably have punched them. But he could only go so far.

Vic had chosen. Didn't mean Pietro wasn't sorry.

"I don't know either. I've never done anything like this before either." Victor replied, pretty much redundantly since they both knew he'd never dated before. He wanted to ask about the phrasing about the first friend thing, Pietro sounded like he was imply 'ever' rather than just in the school, but he felt like he couldn't or shouldn't ask. Not with what Pietro had already said.

This was worse than the stepping on eggshells shit from before. 

"Do you...you still want to be friends, right?" He asked eventually. He had after all violated Pietro's principles and whatever else. What if Pietro just wanted them to be room-mates who were civil and that was that? Not all the room-mates in the school or even in their wing got along as well as they did. Had. 

He'd hate it if Pietro didn't want to hang out and shit anymore but he had to ask, just in case.

Since the way Vic said it implied that he wanted to be friends, there was no discernible hesitation in Pietro's reply of, "Yeah, definitely." Then there was a slight pause during which Pietro turned his chair to face Victor's. "It's weird because part of me feels like we've been through worse, so it shouldn't be a big deal. But another part of me says..." 

An uncharacteristic mid-sentence pause, there. Pietro sighed. Eames might ditch him (it wasn't like that but when he was feeling dramatic, he did have the thought). He had no idea how to help Laura (if anything could--what the fuck, pheromone rage, really?). His father was kind of a serial killer (but kind of a hero, and god, was he a terrible person for thinking that?). 

Maybe he wasn't desperate for new friends anymore. But it didn't mean he was capable of throwing out the old ones. "Look, we just have different priorities. Mine is my family. Yours is figuring your shit out. That's fair. Sometimes we just can't help each other, maybe? That doesn't mean we have to give up on... this. Whatever."

Victor listened, hating how upset and stressed Pietro seemed when he couldn't do anything about it. If they weren't going to talk though, he needed space to think. Figure stuff out. "Yeah, yeah ok. I get that. I think. Good...um. I think I'm gonna go shower."

Pietro looked at him for a long, silent beat, gaze cold, normally pouty lips pressed into a tight line. Great, thanks, Victor.

No, it's fine. You just chose your dick over the safety of everyone in this house, and now you want us back because you turned out to be wrong. But you're having a bad week, so whatever, go ahead and remain utterly unresponsive when I put myself out there for the sake of making your dumb ass feel better.

I swear to god, if you were anyone else...

Pietro shrugged and turned back to his laptop. "'Kay."

Victor paused by his bed, about halfway between his desk and the bathroom, still struggling with his words. He didn't want to say anything just for the sake of it if it wasn't true, that wouldn't help either of them.

"I'm sorry Pietro." He eventually said, simple but honest. He didn't know if it would help them at all but it needed to be said. He' knew hed hurt Pietro and upset him a lot lately and for that Vic really was sorry.

"I am too, man. Sincerely." He had no idea why (except that he cared, ugh, caring sucked), but was really, genuinely sorry. That he'd been right. That Victor was hurt. That he couldn't help.

But yeah. Was what it was. And... whatever. Eventually he'd stop being all hurt. And eventually Victor would stop being all hurt. And it'd be okay again.