For No Reason {Greg}

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

There was no reason Demetrius should have been awake right now.

No reason at all.

Except for, maybe, the fact he hadn't actually gone to bed yet. Instead he was just staring at the wall, waiting for sleep to take him. After about an hour of this the winged boy was growing bored, turning his head to look at the clock. 1:15AM. Demetrius sighed before grabbing his phone. Because damn it if he had to be up, then someone else could damn well wake up with him.

1:16AM
To: Fucktard
Message: Hey. Wake the fuck up. Time to train, monkeyboy.

1:20AM
To: Fucktard
Message: Answer your phone.

1:25AM
To: Fucktard
Message: I swear to God I will burn all your damn copies of Mean Girls.

1:27AM
To: Fucktard
Message: I'll light your hair on fire.

1:30AM
To: Fucktard
Message: And not just what is on your head either.

1:31AM
To: Fucktard
Message: FOR FUCKS SAKE YOU AREN'T GUNNA GET ANY FUCKIN PRETTIER BY SLEEPING!

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg wasn’t in the habit of staying awake past 10PM. Call him a grandpa, but if he didn’t need to cram a paper or wasn’t binge watching Orange is the New Black or Teen Wolf, he’d be dead by 10PM. He’s one of those early to bed, early to rise kids. And he usually puts his phone on his side table, away from his bed, so that any message sent in between his sleep wouldn’t interrupt him.

Unfortunately for him, the night Dem decided to bug him for no other reason than why not, he left his phone under his pillow. And his fingers accidentally put it on vibrate as he slept.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

[Greg Mackenzie]

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

[Greg Mackenzie]

Oh how Greg would want to just go to sleep right about now. But knowing Dem, not entertaining the boy would just make him crankier. And since for some odd reason his telepathy’s synced to the Texan’s mind pretty well (he figured it’s cause they spent so much time together that his mental tendrils ‘remember’ the boy’s mental landscape), any complaints he’d send would just ruin his dreams yet again.

Fuck him with a chainsaw really.

/Hi you dumbfuck. Wanna see my penis?/ And he promptly sent – or at least tried to project – the image of his right hand flipping Dem the finger.

[/div]

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Demetrius knew he probably shouldn't be forcing Gregory to practice his telepathy in the dead of night. Doing so was bound to lead to bad things. But he had made it his mission to try and help Greg. Plus it was the only reason he could think of to get the older boy to continue texting him. It wasn't like he was good at small talk without it leading to a fight, obviously. Plus it seemed relatively easy for Greg to communicate with him. Though Dem wasn't sure yet if this was good or bad.

He paused some as the words rushed into his head and he nodded briefly, trying to focus on the picture but found it too fuzzy to make out anything other than Greg and his hand.



Can y'read and send at the same time yet?

[Greg Mackenzie]

If Dem could see Greg now, he’d see the boy’s eyebrows crossed, utterly confused to what the Texan’s agenda was. He’d read his mind, but he’s a little too focused receiving his thoughts and projecting an image. Not to mention, at his current state, he needed to face – at least direction-wise – his target whenever he’s reading minds. And he was so not in the mood to turn around just to read the Texan’s.

/A bit. Your thoughts sound like my laptop at 1 volume though./. He concentrated a little further, trying his best to recreate his hand – contours and all – in his mind then send all of it to Dem. He felt like a fax machine, only stupider.



If he’s going to be awake because of Dem asking him to do things, might as well get his curiosity satiated right?

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Dem rubbed his hand over his face to try and wake up further, sitting up in his still made bed. He hadn't even bothered to pretend to try and sleep. That would be just too much work for the tired boy. Slowly closing his green eyes he tried to focus on emptying his mind, slowing his breathing, hoping that it would help Greg out with his sending and reading.

Eventually the reply came to him, drawing a satisfied nod from the sophomore. The hand came into focus easy and Demetrius knew -though he wasn't going to question how he knew- that it was a lot of work for Greg to do. However Dem would just chalk it up to having woken the male up in the middle of the night for this. Any better? He mimicked Greg's text with a smirk, trying to turn his thoughts into a 'yell'. Granted he had no idea what he was doing in regards to the whole mental thing. But he was trying.



No more phones, Mackenzie. Focus on telepathy till y'can't send anymore. Got it? Even his head his tone was harsh. But with the usual underlying taunt as if Greg needed to be coaxed into doing what Demetrius wanted.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Of course Dem would refuse to tell him anything about what had happened. But the Texan was crazy if he was thinking Greg would just let it all slide, considering how he came home with more than just his regular share of bruises.

/You turd. I was – am – worried. Would it really hurt to just tell me what happened?/.

If his middle finger wouldn’t get the boy talking, maybe his hand under his loose boxers would. It’s a more complicated image than before, but he figured he’s warmed up and more awake now, so it should be better.

/Wanna just come over?/

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

To: Fucktard
Message: You think you got the skills?

Demetrius regretted it as soon as he hit send. There was no way he wanted Greg's untrained telepathy going further in his mind than surface thoughts. God only knew what the boy would find in his head. Maybe it would be better to just tell Greg what happened. It was stupid anyway and there was no real reason he should want to keep it to himself.

Except he didn't want to reveal the depth of his temporary insanity to Greg.

Worried my ass. You're just worried the fucker might come bruise your precious face.

It was a little unfair, but Demetrius was still deep in his hole of "Greg can't be trusted". The only reason their friendship had gotten as far as it had was that Greg was a telepath and Demetrius figured and duplicity would get revealed anyway. Which was only the case because Greg was a fledgling telepath.

The image that invaded his mind had the smaller boy chuckling softly, which creeped him out. Chuckling in a dark room was definitely weird. However his lips twisted into a smirk as he thought up his reply. Depends... Where do I getta come?

There was a pause before the boy sighed and climbed off of his his still made bed.

Hurry up and unlock your door, prissy bitch.

((Fin.

Continued here))