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The Long Weekend 2	By : TimedWatcher Category: +S through Z > Weekenders, The Views: 1798 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weekenders, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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The final subdued and delayed knock came, and he unlocked it like usual. Stepping away, the door burst with a loudness that he half expected it was Lor's foster father rushing in. Thankfully, it was just a rambunctious Lor in a backwards cap and an open red windbreaker, quick to sling off her heavy back pack and using her foot to kick the door closed. "IT'S THE WEEKEND! Let's do something! Come on! We can go out, hang at the mall, maybe go to a movie... OH! I know. Here." She threw open her closet, and began throwing out clothes and junk, looking for something. "Got 'em!" She tossed him a ratty looking catcher's mitt, as a lot of its lacing had come loose - but it would do the job if you needed a glove in a pinch. She picked up a ball from behind her desk, having looked like it got stuck there and tossed it in the air before catching it, hers still having that pristine brown 'I just bought it' look.

He followed her to the door and... she looked his way. "Right... going out the window."

It was before the bridge - back to the park where I left her behind - the same park where she found me.

They found their positions on the opposite sides of grass, the path working as their separating net. The sun was looking to set, but it was still plenty bright out. "What do you do all day?" She gave it a light, underhanded toss.

"Oh you know, I just jack it. This hand in fact" He made a point to make sure she knew it was the hand inside the glove before he tossed it.

Damn, she caught it. "What do you do after that?" She gave it a casual pitch.

"Well, I wipe it on your pillow." He gave it a wind up.

Lor had a comeback though. "That's okay, I teabag you when you sleep."

"Ewwwww." Despite her attempted psyche out, he still caught it. He held it behind it his back for a second, trying to think of something to say or how to throw it differently... how about a knuckleball, Lor...

It curved way beyond where she could have even been, going into some bushes.

"Foul!"

"What? You could have caught that if you didn't suck." She was right, but he wouldn't admit it.

"That was a foul! Go get it." With the gloved hand on her hip, Lor tapped her foot.

Gordon acted as if he was going to get the ball, but then darted into her. "I'll show you a foul!", they tumbled through the grass, rolling away from any paths and people, hitting the edge of a mound that sent them down a slope and into a mini grove, both instinctively agreeing to stop near a big root at the bottom, their gloves eventually catching up to them.

Her hat had pulled to the back of her head, nearly off, creasing her hair and making her look like she had a widow's peak. Her cheeks puffed a little, as her smile wasn't just a smile: in the ray of the sun that cascaded between tree leaves that left her in puzzles pieces, it was purely angelic; a sincerity unfelt with anyone else he had ever met - and as she breathed, he breathed, and let his feelings out. "Let's be like this... forever."

Her white bared teeth lapsed back, as her smile formed a tight lipped grimace. He could sense what she was about to say. "But what if you-"

"I won't leave you. I'll never leave you." Pulling up her arm from the turf gently, his thumb and hand ran over each of her individual little fingers, before placing it on her chest. He pushed his lips against hers, forceful; anytime she wanted to leave his face for air, he wouldn't let her, moving like a shark's tail fin in anticipation of her movements - her hand ran up with verve, her fingers on his jaw, his cheek bones; fingers passing through strands of his hair - it was like she was imprinting him to memory, he could even feel her dig out dead skin from his scalp she was so into it.

"Get undressed." He said between gasping kisses. "I want to fuck you." He climbed off her and reached into his pants.

Lor raised herself by her elbows from the grass. "What if somebody catches us? This ain't like the bathroom."

"I don't even care anymore. I want the world to see."

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"Where's the grub?" It had gotten to seven thirty with no sign of Lor or food, with her finally here, he was disappointed to see she was empty handed.

She rubbed the back of her neck. "Diane and Phil have been kinda... twisting my arm into eating more meals with them... but don't worry!" Lor raised her finger triumphantly. "I planned for this." She then reached into her pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar.

Gordon took it like a painful chore: Unwillingly. Then he kinda just looked at it. Then to her, then back to it. It was about as big as the box his toothbrush came in. "A chocolate bar?" He repeated himself again. He didn't want to sound ungrateful... okay he was ungrateful. Even that kinda lukewarm half bowl of pasta was better than this.

She threw up her hands, bowing a little while sounding as apologetic as she could. "Sorry. It's all I could do on short notice."

As he peeled back the yellow plastic like a banana peel, he couldn't help but think of how much of a downgrade this was; From Steaks to Candy Bars: The Gordon Waldgrave Story

At least it had wafers in it...

"So you'll be okay, right? Maybe we can figure something out when I'm done..."

"Yeah, yeah..." He stared at her through a side glance as she back stepped towards her bathroom, the light going on and it closing.

Hmmm

He got a little closer, folding the packaging of his now empty candy as he discarded it before listening in, the water coming on.

He took off his shirt.

Like he saw in the movies, he made a quick move to pray, hand from his forehead and across his bare chest before he opened up the bathroom; the sound of running water now loud, Lor's figure pixelated. He heard his name as he swooped up the clothes from the corner near the door and dropped his shirt in return before stepping out and shutting it. He jumped into bed, dumping them over the side.

The shower stopped as he heard wet feet stamp his way. The door opened a creak. "Gordon. Where are my clothes?"

"There's a shirt for you in there." He sounded casual and distracted about it but was secretly excited.

"That's not... ugh!" She slammed it an inch, hearing rumblings from the other side.

Then she stepped out.

Half naked, Lor stood with her still glistening thighs and legs bundled together for warmth, the water making her only article of clothing cling to her, her figure almost as lewd as if she were wearing nothing, and that's when his fist had to cover his mouth: His shirt wasn't big enough to work as a dress, as Lor struggled with the hem in bringing it down over her naughty bits, but honestly, from where he was, it looked like anything could be between her legs. It also looked like she was about to pee herself too, which he also enjoyed.

"You know I'm wiping my penis on the inside of your shirt, right?" She taunted while he eyed her up from head to toe.

He gave her an all clear with an 'okay' hand gesture, a winked eye, his open one framing her through his pinched together thumb and index finger. "Music to my ears."

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CHH CHH CHH CHH

Lor yawned and stretched beside him as he brushed his teeth on a lazy feeling Saturday, their positions flipping in the mirror as he moved a bit to the side. "Morning."

"Morning." She grabbed her razor from the cup she kept by the sink, and Gordon knew what was gonna happen once she got a good look at it. "What did you do?" Yeah, he wasn't sure how he was gonna get away with that when it looked like the inside of his armpit but with metal teeth.

He spit. "Yeah... had to use yours. Sorry."

"No. No sorry. It makes me want you here even more." She pulled him into a hug, nuzzling his smoothed face like an attention starved cat while patting his back.

"Heeeey. I'm tryin' to brush here." He sounded angry with a stuffed mouth, but that mirror showed him for the liar he was, the only sound now being a quiet, scratchy, exchange.

Letting go, Lor looked up at him, awestruck and happy. "Now let me cut your hair."

"No!"

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With his hands in his jacket pockets, Gordon rotated on a single spot, unable to tear himself away; he was swamped with horror movie selection front and back, to his left and right were more aisles and rows of the stuff. It was great... but what to choose? Covers pierced with heavy, intimidating, imagery and not a single actor in sight unlike the small selection of DVDs they had - crimson titles embossed red, hockey masks protruding with spotlights, silhouetted figures or fanged vampire fingers. Now, he enjoyed himself the occasional cheeseball horror flick, but he thought of the ones here more in ratios, as in, what were the odds of them getting Lor to hold him close during a scary part? Then that raised the question, what was Lor scared of? Maybe she was the classic fraidy-cat girl trifecta of spiders, rats and bats - or maybe something specific like creepy dolls or zombies in malls?

He saw an occasional glint of Lor walking past him to the comedies and then back to the games, and by the fifth time, he was sure she was doing it on purpose to get him to hurry up. Gordon made his final choice and let the VHS cover fall back as he now held four clamshell cases in his hand. "Ready." Lor exhaled a quiet sigh of relief while grabbing one herself, and when he thought they were gonna go to the front, he instead followed a speed walking Lor to the back row near the front of the store into what seemed to be the sports section, and Lor wasn't kidding around about wanting to go as she plucked them out almost violently, but she was dexterous enough to not knock down any of the display boxes, which was good for him as she didn't seem interested in telling him about them.

His picks started feeling heavy as they approached the check out, his palms sweaty as he placed the stack of four plastic bricks onto the counter, his only question forward. "Do you rent R-rated movies to minors?"

The Videobuster employee had been sorting tapes from a yellow basket before begrudgingly moving to greet them. With dark hair, black eyes and a soul patch, the worker in a polo blue shirt with a yellow collar rested an elbow down near a small stand of microwavable popcorn, looking down at them both. "That's against company policy..." He looked both ways. "And if a legal guardian were to see me... what do you got?" His voice was deep, but obviously put on. He looked over Gordon's stack first. "Crap, crap, entry level, crap." Lor put hers down and Gordon exchanged a nervous glance with her. He read off the next three with total disinterest.

"Contact Sport's Greatest Illegal Eye Gouges, volume 3"

"Boxing's Biggest Hits, volume 5"

"Best Fights In Hockey, volume 10"

Then Lor's fourth choice. "And... hello" His vocal register went even deeper while reading aloud the title. He remembered the cover: it was the face of a surprised woman pulling apart her lips, and on the inside was a skull with eyes. The back of the man's finger tapped the cover. "This is a great one, and what he does with the lawnmower... well, I'll let you kids find out." They were both relieved as Lor handed the counter jockey her Videobuster membership card and he rang them up.

As the door bing bonged them out, he had to ask. "I thought you didn't like the gory stuff?"

"I don't."

...?

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When Lor said 'My parents aren't going to be home for the whole day!', there was only thing he wanted to do besides play house with Lor.

Butter sizzled, nice and hot as he dumped the whipped up eggs into the pan. Lor then grabbed onto him, staring down into the swirling yolk, having spent the last minute prancing about the house while he was whisking. "Uh. Do mine without the egg, please."

He nearly scratched the back of his head with the spatula. "I don't think you know how scrambled eggs work."

"N-no I... I do. Muh-make m-mine with the eggs... and uhm... do the... yeah..." Lor trailed off, her voice going lower with every word she spoke in her mumbled mush.

He was so far ahead of himself he hadn't considered that maybe she didn't like eggs. Who didn't like eggs? Maybe if he was served it on a daily basis the same way over and over he'd get tired of them, yeah... but his mom always found a way to make it different. That got him to think about what he would be making for Lor in ten years from now. "Next time I'll make you an extra cheesy grilled cheese sandwich - no eggs guaranteed. I mean, you do like cheese, right?" He asked while dishing it up.

Lor took a seat. "Psh. Duh, I like pizza don't I?" He thought about mouthing off, something like 'I don't know, do you?', but kept it to himself as he placed it in front of her before he circled back to his spot across from her.

As soon as he was able to sit, he watched Lor spritz the yellow with red, absolutely spanking the hell out of that glass bottle of ketchup.

Oh my god...

No. Don't say anything. It's her food and she can eat them anyway she liked.

He reached over, grabbing some pepper - he had already added the classic S&P while he was preparing it, but he always liked a heavy sprinkle of the stuff, adding brown and black flecks to the fluffy dish. The noise of quiet eating filled the spacious kitchen, and he couldn't help but look out at the greenhouse they had in the backyard, which he noticed before while cooking. He hoped to bring it up as dinner conversation. "Do you miss your parents?"

He froze a bit, but tried to keep himself jovial. "What? Are you tryin' to get rid of me?" Was she trying to get rid of him? Why was she even asking that...

"No no... I'm just... curious." Her wandering eyes bothered him - was she telling the truth? Or maybe she was just trying to find the best way to ask without offending him.

"What am I supposed to do? 'Boo hoo' about 'em?" He was a bit more blunt than he wanted to be.

"Do you think they worry?"

"They're... they're probably fine. At least I know my dad is..." He tapped his food, clinking the plate where there wasn't egg. "I kinda miss some things... my own bed to sleep in, a change of clothes, money to buy myself stuff with, the routine of going to school - and I never thought I'd say that - but... none of that is as important as you." That was true... but only partly. Truth was, he didn't have much of a life to go back to. Beyond his parents, he knew a couple of guys in computer class he played LAN games with, passing around burnt discs and installing them whenever they had free time, but that was it.

"But I get it." He skooted back in his seat, open palms, arms extended. "If you want me to go, I'll go." His face was stern, but his insides were anything but - he was quivering jello.

"Are you gonna do that everytime?" She didn't sound the least impressed; Lor ripping another one of his veils

"What?" He acted the fool.

"Threatening to leave." A flashback to his first night back. She had him hook, line, and sinker - and there was only one thing he could do at a time like this:

"I don't know, will I?"

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With his nose like a whistle, his mouth sucked in air, and with every breath, his throat singed him; he couldn't help sounding like those of the undead, as everytime he thought he cleared his throat, he had to do it again, finding himself in a ceaseless cycle before ultimately making it hurt even more. He shifted constantly, always uncomfortable, always shivering. God knows what Lor rubbed up against at school to make him feel like this. Gordon tried laying on his stomach and even his side, but his mouth drooled and his nose leaked like a faucet onto her pillow, and he hated himself when he did.

He heard their door open. "Hot soup comin' through!"

He pulled the covers off his face to cough, now seeing Lor pass by the bathroom, two handing the sides of a smoking hot bowl that she placed down on the bedstand with a clink, knocking over a box of sheets that she was quick to put back. "I'm sorry I'm sick." His hacks were wet in his neck somewhere.

"How are you gonna eat this on your back?" Gordon let out some disgruntled noise as he reached back over his shoulder and moved the pillow into his lower back as he sat up; blanket slipping down. He wasn't even hungry. In fact, he didn't really feel anything besides sick in this state, and-

It was a good thing he was facing forward, as his face went off; spit and mucus flying everywhere it could, the insides of his nose irritated as he grabbed another tissue. "Lor... Lor please... take me out back and finish me off..." His voice muffled weak behind paper, he wasn't even sure how serious he was with that statement.

"Don't say things like that." She slapped his blanket covered body which impacted soft. Guess she must have interpreted it one way. He did wonder what it would be like to sneeze midflight; would he lose all concentration and plummet or would it be no big deal?

He watched her lean down, giving it a stir before spooning it up. Lor blew off some steam, her lips puckering, Gordon was even too sick to even fantasize about her doing that to him instead. She had the steady hands of a surgeon, guiding it slowly from the stand and raising it to him, rightfully scared of spilling it. The yellow broth's heat was just a hint below hot, but still warm enough that he pictured germs roasting alive on his palate, the noodles soft and sippable. "You're lucky we still had some chicken soup left because I wasn't going to walk all the way to the grocery store just for you." His face remained static, not judging, not really caring. "... Because I would have taken my bike." Lor broke the spell of misery he was under for just a second.

She served him like that for awhile and everytime the spoon met his lips, he thought there had to be a catch somewhere eventually; he'd have done it if she had asked, but there was no complaining, no 'I hate you for making me do this but I secretly try to hide it' faces... she just wanted him to get better. It kinda bothered him that he thought like this. Why does everyone need to have an ulterior motive? That wasn't Lor's style... but why him? Why treat him so well? Maybe getting sick was karmic justice for enjoying the perks of living with Lor too much... he needed this reality check. "Thank y-"

Maybe it came out as a blurt because she didn't notice as he accepted it back into his mouth. "All gone. Now, I have a pill for you and you can finish the rest of your juice to get 'er down." Lor presented both, dropping the tablet into his open palm as he took it and threw it past his teeth; he then pounded back that room temperature OJ like it was the cure and he had seconds to live, dislodging the pill. The sweet and salty liquids went down well together, the only thing that felt well about his body today; he urped but didn't burp as he put down the glass with a lot more liveliness. "Now get some rest." The back of her hand strayed across his forehead and he nodded obediently. He slid below the covers, and by the time he had them back over his head, he was already out of it.
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The Long Weekend 2