one last wish ,, tony

[jackie aaron wilson]

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IT WAS MEANT TO BE BUT ALL ALONG IT NEVER MEANT A THING NEVER STOPPED

( to ask you why you didn't pass me by )

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The Rosette Mara Academy basketball team was good. Really good. They won almost all of their games, their plays were gaining a reputation in Colorado, and the whole team was tight. Prior to the year before, however, this wasn’t the case. The team could have been described as average at best—but when Jackie was made captain in Senior year things changed. The second day of practice he had spoken out when the coach had said something he had felt was stupid, and the boy with JACKASS written across the back of his jersey had said so. The coach had told him if he thought he was better than him, he had up until the next tournament to turn them around. Guess who won gold. Since then, Jackie had been in charge of the team. He ran the team like a nazi, running his boys until they passed out if he screwed up. So, when he had threatened Tony with running him after practice, he hadn’t been kidding. He needed to come up with some kind of legit answer though, and so after the conversation online he had spent the entire night watching dvds from the last few games. It pissed him off that little bit more—Tony was perfect. Everything he did on the court—every short, every pass, every fake—he was absolutely perfect. Not like Jackie ever doubted this though. He definitely knew Tony was perfect…every little detail about him.

Then he saw it. It was perfectly unmistakable—he had mis-stepped during a layup. It was enough of a misstep to get it called by the refs, but the refs hadn’t noticed it, and yes they had still won—but if the ref had caught it the basket wouldn’t have counted and Tony would have been penalized leading to a sequence of events that could have lost them the game. It was the perfect way to fulfill his threat, make an example, and watch Tony run. Every single day Jackie saw him, Jackie had to cause him horrible pain in some way. Emotional, physical, mental—Jackie could run his hands along the lockers in the school hallways and pick out dents that Tony’s head had caused. He had called Tony a faggot more times than could possibly count, and was sure he was completely responsible for a large selection of split lips and black eyes. It wasn’t his fault—he really didn’t want to hurt him. In fact, he only wanted to hurt him in one way—maybe wearing a little leather and a pair of handcuffs.

Jackie blew his whistle and threw his basketball back in the storage bin, his way of telling everyone it was time to hit the showers and go home, though he glanced at Tony before leaning against the wall. He had told the boy at the beginning of practice not to head off after, he owed Jackie a run, and as Jackie watched the rest of the team funnel into the showers he couldn’t help but smile a little bit. Most people probably would have assumed he was smiling because this was his chance to abuse the faggot, which everyone knew was his favourite hobby. Jackie was smiling because he was getting the chance to be alone with Tony, something he really cherished. Every minute he spent alone with him brought him one minute closer to maybe finally opening his mouth and admitting it. He didn’t want to admit it, he really really didn’t. He was sure the other boy would laugh at him, call him out for being an asshole for years, maybe throw him against a locker…they were all things he knew he rightfully deserved. The best thing he could ever see coming from this was maybe a smirk, an insult, and then Tony walking out of his life forever.

For now, he ran his hand through his hair and chewed on the whistle for a moment as he waited for everybody to leave, knowing everyone was probably enjoying frivolities in the shower. …woooowww…He was gay. He was jealous of the rest of his team because they got to shower naked with the rest of the men—oh well, he got to see Tony run. This was going to make him very happy.

• WORDS: 7 1 4
• TAGGED: tony
• OUTFIT: here
• MUSIC: Big Bang Boys! =D
• NOTES: excitement.
• LYRICS: cheer up boys (your make up is running) - foo fighters
• CREDIT: holly @ caution

[tony cedric white]

Back in Texas, dealing with discrimination was actually a less open event. For the most part, it was just when the other person had a group of friends and when Tony was alone. Sure, a bloody nose here and there and a few black eyes were expected, normally that was as bad as it got... It was different in Colorado. Apparently people liked to think that homosexuality was rarer in Colorado- not so. What he was sure about, however, was the fact that the harassment was not really as bad, just more stereotypical. A few other people didn't even need groups at this point; apparently it was cool to play 'pick on the faggot' in the hallways. Tony's locker had a few dents in it from incidents that involved the captain of the basketball team shoving his head into them. He was alright with that... Only from Jackie. The rest of the basketball team wasn't so bad- the comments were lowered to the typical 'friendly fun' amount, which was something he could tolerate. What he knew was that they didn't want to be on Jackass's bad side. Understandable. It wasn’t really the most fun thing that could happen to someone. Nevertheless, Tony knew something that other people didn’t… it was a gut feeling, and it was getting rather difficult to ignore.

Tony was a very good player. No one on the team could really deny that, even if they wanted to joke around about it every now and then. He knew he was good, but he also knew there was room for improvement. What he didn’t like, however, was how he was being held after practice. After having dropped down from hanging on the basket after a nice, old-fashioned dunk, Tony wasn’t surprised to receive a few pats on the back before the rest of the team slowly disappeared into the locker rooms to shower. At least he was warmed up… Huffing out a breath of air, Tony’s dark brows rose on his forehead as a tattooed hand shoved its way into his pocket, lower lip finding its way between his teeth before he managed to pull out, of course, a rainbow headband. Well… he had to fight back at least a little.

Wrapping it around his forehead with an almost challenging expression, the tall young man stepped closer, pausing about five feet away from Jackie with his hands on his hips, eying the other boy carefully. ”So. Am I running laps or suicides?” One brow rose higher than the other, lips curling into a crooked sort of smirk as his head turned ever so slightly. Sure, it was a bummer being held after for no real, true reason- but he could make sure this took so long that perhaps Jackie would never even think of it again. Running was definitely no problem for him- he had the legs, the lungs, the stamina… Hell, he was built for it. If Jackie had been serious when he said ‘until you pass out’- well… he was in for a long night. That thought process showed on his face, lips still pulled into a smirk, head tilting back slightly.

”You know, I could run both,” he added, tossing an arm across his chest in a stretch, lips pursing together in a manner that showed he was, at best, simply playing along. There was no reason to get pissy and report ‘harassment’ to the coach or some random administrator; that would only raise more problems for him. Tony switched arms, still eying Jackie for a moment before turning and walking over to one end of the court, torso drooping down as his fingertips touched at the floor, blood rushing to his head from the quick drop in altitude. Blinking rapidly and taking a deep breath to dispel the feeling, the dark-skinned boy took his time in straightening, stretching his sides for a few moments before leaning against the wall behind him. That was a bad habit, he was always leaning against something or someone, Tony simply had issues standing up straight on his own for long periods of time. It was boring, and he was relatively lazy.

”Mind telling me why I’m running, again?” Tony called out, expression darkening for a moment before he rolled his shoulders in a shrug, taking a deeper breath. Knowing Jackie, he probably had a reason. It was probably a legitimate reason, too. How he would have gotten it and how long it would have taken him, Tony didn’t know… but this shorter boy probably had one up his sleeve. ”Fuck it, just tell me when to run.”

TAG: Jackjack
WORDS:

[/color] 769
MUSE:[/color] WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW.
CLOTHING:[/color] url?
NOTES:[/color] blah blah blah
CREDIT:[/color] TILLY of caution 2.0.[/font][/left][/size]

[jackie aaron wilson]

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
IT WAS MEANT TO BE BUT ALL ALONG IT NEVER MEANT A THING NEVER STOPPED

( to ask you why you didn't pass me by )

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Sometimes when Jackie was supposed to be sleeping, he’d lie awake and stare at the roof in his dorm room, thinking about Tony. He was happy that Tony was as strong as he was—Jackie knew what it was like to be treated like shit every single day. Up until grade eight he had been mocked relentlessly, pushed around, beaten up…they called him the Beanpole Ballerina when they were feeling creative, homo when they weren’t. Looking back on it, Jackie found it ironic. Maybe that was another reason why he was so unsure about coming out. Up until he was thirteen and had proven why he shouldn’t be pushed around anymore, he had been called gay, a girl, faggot, homo, bitch—and now he was doing the same thing to Tony. Part of him felt like, if he came out of the closet, those kids would win. He didn’t know why it had to be home—he was hardly effeminate, and with the exception of dance and his hair he didn’t fit any gay stereotypes. He was captain of the basketball team—not the Figure Skating team.

He watched a couple of the guys leave the gym after their shower, trying his best to ignore Tony until they actually had to get down to business. He. Get down. More like go down—his brain needed to shut up if they were going to make it through this without being violently sodomized by the black man. The entire thought of that terrified him. There was no way in hell it could possibly feel good—it was supposed to be a one way street! Bad things happened when you went the wrong way on a one way. Apparently, though, Tony did that on Wednesdays—he hadn’t said anything about when he violated assholes. By the time Jackie looked back at Tony, he was wearing a fucking rainbow headband, and Jackie only had to raise his eyebrow at it. Was this guy for real? He was almost tempted to yank it off, but he had to admit—it was kind of cute.

At the mention of suicides, Jackie felt himself bristle. Jackie had learned the hard way why not to make Tony do suicides unless Jackie was also doing them. There had been a training a while ago and to warm up the rest of the team while he had to do some lame captain thing he had gotten them to run suicides, and when he had gotten back—fuck damn if he didn’t get half hard at the site of Tony bending over. For the sake of avoiding awkwardness, there would be no more bending over for Tony, particularly when they were alone together. ”Just run. What, you think I’m going to give you special treatment because you’re you? Affirmative action, Tony.”

[/COLOR] He said with a little smirk, twirling his whistle around on his finger. ”Every kid on this team gets the same punishment for fucking up,”[/COLOR] And that was true. It was also why he had spent so long watching the last few games until he had seen that foot step up.

He began to stretch himself (something he usually did when he was running his boys—as if to add an extra layer to the punishment “if you fuck up, I’m going to run to. And that’ll really piss me off. Remember that.”) bending over and placing his hands flat on the gym floor. Sometimes, he’d get a little shit and laughed at because he stretched like a dancer, but come on—he was a dancer. And he was still fast, flexible, and better on the court than almost anyone else. He had Shaq’s free throw percentage, but he handled the ball like a pro. Tony was better at ballhandling though. Nobody could deny that. Ha. ”In the game last week against North you fucked up a layup—the ref didn’t catch it, but I did. You should have gotten a foul,”[/COLOR] Satisfied with the stretch in his muscles, he rolled his shoulders back before giving a quick blat on the whistle and staring to run slowly to wait for Tony to match his pace. Another rule—you ran at Jackie’s pace, and Jackie didn’t run slowly. ”Come on, homo, let’s go.”[/COLOR]
[/size][/font][/center][/blockquote]

• WORDS: 7 1 2
• TAGGED: tony
• OUTFIT: here
• MUSIC: Friends! xDD
• NOTES: hehe
• LYRICS: cheer up boys (your make up is running) - foo fighters
• CREDIT: holly @ caution

[tony cedric white]

Pride was an issue for Tony. Having been taught at a young age that if he kept his head up, people would listen, that was exactly what he did. He expressed his opinions openly and honestly when it came to most topics, and people really did listen. Most of the time. Unfortunately, when it came to things that actually mattered specifically to him, it seemed that he couldn't get people to understand. In one ear; out the other. Basketball was a touchy thing for Tony- he fit the stereotype, often joked about it quite a bit, but he knew he was good. Hearing that he had messed up (never mind that he already knew he had) gnawed at a rather sensitive place in his mind. Or was that just a very different feeling doing the gnawing, because Jackie was in sweats... and he was stretching. Like a dancer... Dancers were flexible.

Tony cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders in a shrug again before giving a curt nod, giving a quick blink to attempt ridding his mind of whatever images were attempting to spring to the surface. Now was definitely not the time for that. "Damn good thing they didn't see that, huh, Jackattack?" And with that, Tony started off after the shorter boy, short-clad legs stretching out easily to match Jackie's pace. Before too long, he clipped the length of his stride down to match Jackie's, falling into step beside him so naturally. This was right... This was how it should be. Shut up. As of late, his mind had taken on the habit of hissing those little commands at him. Never mind that they were hardly ever effective.

NOT DONE.

TAG: Jackjack
WORDS:

[/color] 769
MUSE:[/color] WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW.
CLOTHING:[/color] url?
NOTES:[/color] blah blah blah
CREDIT:[/color] TILLY of caution 2.0.[/font][/left][/size]