Oh Canada... (closed)

[Greg Mackenzie]

Backdated to the 3rd of July

Greg had never been one to be patriotic. Sure he would cut anyone who call him an American, but otherwise, his attachment to the Motherland began and ended with sarcastic remarks about how awesome the Strong North was compared to the States. Oh, and how Alaska should’ve been part of Yukon.

But seeing the photos of fireworks, parades, food – oh that lovely poutine – and other such Canada Day-related festivities had sent the telepath to some kind of homesickness funk. Didn’t help that the Fourth of July was coming soon and America’s own festivities only reminded him of how out of place he truly was in the world. Or something along those lines. The boy turned a little too dramatic – staying in his underwear, curled up in a blanket on the couch, watching TV and munching on three pints of Ben and Jerry’s as well as a dozen red velvet cupcakes – and it was anything but adorable.

“Oh come on Drew!” he said, throwing a wad of cupcake paper to the screen as he watched the latest episode of The Night Shift, “Stop being a dick and hold Rick’s hand! NO ONE CARES IF YOU’RE GAY GODDAMIT!”

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Demetrius wasn't one to actually actively care if his "friends" were happy or not. BUt even since the date Greg had been kind enough to take him on, the winged boy had decided to return the favor. The opportunity came up sooner than expected in the form of... Well Demetrius wasn't too sure what the hell Greg was doing. All the boy knew was that it was gross and he would very much like it to stop.

After only a little bit of research, Demetrius was pretty sure he had pinned down Greg's problem. It was really simple after the boy thought about it- Greg was homesick. Demetrius hadn't ever experienced it himself -since by the time he had felt homesick, his brother showed up and then life was grand. However he understood the gist of it and realized Greg could only be cured by some old fashioned TLC. So Demetrius had swallowed his pride and went to Mathis for help. Between the two boys they had managed to make what looked like a traditional poutine and an entire half batch of nanaimo bars, since Mathis took the other half as payment and went out to find Cameron.

After that Demetrius had packed a few more things into a picnic basket and walked into the shared dorm room only to be greeted... By something that made the younger boy want to scrub out his retinas. Greg looked like some overly dramatic pregnant chick that had gotten broken up with.

"What the FUCK?" Those were the first words out of his mouth, gone before he could even stop them. He tried to ignore the fact he was a little angry that Greg had eaten so much -it could ruin his plans- and set down the basket before stalking over with a grim smile. "I swear ta fuckin' God, Mackenzie. Get your ASS off the couch." No, he wasn't going to explain why. "Get rid of that junk food and go get properly fuckin' dressed. We are goin' out, and no. I don't wanna hear your damn bitchin'." Demetrius spoke quickly, trying to cut off any possible Greg retorts.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Considering how miserable his mood was, and how angry he was at himself for being in a miserable mood for no reason whatsoever (‘cause he didn’t really consider homesickness to be a valid reason to be in a funk as deep as he was in now), Greg didn’t really pay much attention to his surroundings. In fact, Dem could’ve rolled over and collapse and the Canadian wouldn’t bad at eyelash. Unless of course his collapse timed with his Ben and Jerry’s being empty, which of course would make the telepath rise from his couch, grumbling, and grab another from the freezer.

No guarantee he’d be helping the Texan though.

So really, even with Dem’s seemingly out-of-place anger, the telepath was unfazed. “Or what?” he said, eyes into slits and sending a death stare right at the other boy, “You’d haul my ass off in bed yourself? Dump scalding hot water on me? Please.” He shoved another spoonful of ice cream to his mouth and rolled his eyes, turning back to his screen. “Not in the mood to fuel your anger-infused sexual fantasies today Dem, not in the mood.”

Unfortunately for Dem, the boy’s perfectly fine not having pants for the day and it’d take quite the effort to get him into one.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Anger made Demetrius' mind hazy. Made him do things that he shouldn't have normally. Hell at this point he didn't even have a real reason to be angry, or at least not a reason that anyone other than himself and Mathis would understand. Really it was boiling down to the young 15-year-old finding Greg to be an inconsiderate ass. Here Demetrius was going through all this trouble to find a way to try and cheer Greg up and Greg couldn't even be bothered to help out a get dressed?

Demetrius barely avoid a snarl of anger before he walked into their small kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge. He would get Greg going one way or another. "Swear ta fuckin' God if y'don't get your ass off that..." And with that he let the words fade out as he walked back, cracked open the bottle of water, and proceeded to pour it onto Greg's hair. He wasn't even really thinking of anything other than getting Greg up. Getting Greg going. And making the telepath appreciate his hardwork.

Inconsiderate ass.

[Greg Mackenzie]

One of the ‘perks’ of being around Greg so much was that in time, his telepathy – or telepathic tendrils, as visualizing his power as being transmitted by virtue of tentacles that wrap around and occasionally burrow into his target’s mind had been a major step into him taking control – would just become so accustomed to a mental signature that he’d be able to pick their thoughts out without even trying. ‘Perks’ in quotes because (1) Greg hated the unexpected disturbance to his mental walls, and (2) it’s a gross invasion of privacy that not everyone liked and saying it happened ‘accidentally’ was not a reason everyone accepted.

So really, Dem didn’t need to snarl to let Greg knew he was angry. But being that there seemed to be only two moods the Texan was capable of – angry and less angry – he decided to ignore the boy’s ramblings. No need to make his own mood fouler by bothering himself with whatever illed the winged boy.

What he didn’t expect – and something he hated his telepathy for not telling him though – was the bottle of water being dumped unceremoniously on his head.

“What. The. Flying. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. You.” He stood up quickly, knuckles into fists and eyes in slits. Every bone in his body wanted to beat the living shit out of the Texan for what he just did – and this was coming from a guy who didn’t like getting physical with someone despite playing lacrosse for almost three years now – but he knew that with Dem, he won’t stop until he got what he wanted. “Give me five minutes,” he said, grumbling as he went back to his room and changed.

“This better not involve running ‘cause I’m not in the mood to wear shoes,” he muttered as he came out of his room.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Had Demetrius not been fully engrossed in his mission of getting Greg off the couch, he might have taken the time to ponder why the telepath hadn't noticed his plan of attack. But the satisfaction he felt while the cold water rushed from the bottle and onto Gregory was enough to even push away the anger to some extent. In fact, when Gregory reared up -much like a pissed cat, in Dem's opinion- the only thing Demetrius good was smirk in triumph. Not even when he saw that Greg had balled up his fists did he feel fear.

It was all Gregory's fault, after all. If he had just accepted what Demetrius wanted to do then he wouldn't have gotten water poured on him. He kept his head cocked as Gregory disappeared and let out deep breaths to kill the last of his anger before he walked around to the other side of the couch. While Gregory was inside his room, hopefully changing, Demetrius picked up the wrappers and cupcakes and ice cream to take it to the kitchen to put away.

Green eyes flicked up as he heard the door open, not missing the fact that Greg was muttering. Probably something to fuel the fact he was still an inconsiderate ass. "Can you swim in that?" That was all the winged boy really cared about, an eyebrow raised at the fact that Greg was matching. Even in such a short amount of time Greg could reveal just how too-gay-to-function he was. "Wear normal shoes. We're hiking."

Because Demetrius refused to half ass this whole thing.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Just when he thought Dem couldn’t get much worse, he did.

Really he should just stop underestimating the boy.

“What the fuck?” He gave the Texan the most ‘are-you-fucking-kidding-me’ stare he could muster, and combined it with just the right amount of ‘if-murder-wasn’t-a-crime-you-would’ve-been-dead-right-now’ in his gritting teeth. “Say that again please?” Sure it was a lovely day for a swim, but why? What was the winged boy up to really?

“No. If I’m swimming then I’m wearing flip-fops. Wet socks are not fun. Also I’m not bringing a bag so unless you have a way to prevent my wallet and phone from getting wet, I’m so not taking a plunge.” Agreeing to Dem should earn him a dozen karma credits, oh it should. “Just what the fuck are we doing anyway? Training to climb Mount Everest?”

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Demetrius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Which had to have been a herculean feat. Seriously? Why should he have to repeat himself? "Swimmin'. Hikin'." He said slowly, much like how you would talk to someone too stupid to use your normal voice with. After a moment of thought he bit the inside of his lip, "Well. Minor hikin'." he conceded with a nod to himself.

It was really just through a bit of woods around the pond. Then up a hill or two.

They'd still be in Vermont.

Losing the battle to rolling his eyes, Demetrius held out his hand impatiently. "Fine. Walk with the flip flops. Gimme your phone and wallet." He wasn't really asking so much as demanding. After all he could just shove Greg's stuff in with his. That's what the picnic basket was for; holding stuff. Like the food and towels and his own phone. "Yeh, yeh. Trainin'. I wanna grow up and live ona mountain. Can we go now?" Demetrius motioned with his hand again.

Really, he just wanted to get Gregory outside. Get him smiling again.

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg replied with his own eyeroll, complete with an exhausted huff. He didn’t say anything though, instead flashing Dem his middle finger as he walked past the boy and to their dormitory door. “Umm, yeah no. Not until we get to the swimming part,” he grumbled as he opened the door, asking himself what did he do really to deserve being pulled out of their wondrous couch in the middle of his weird depressed funk. “I’d want to be able to back out if I decide that you’re just too much for me.” Since when did Dem initiate things?

If this was him finally getting to the boy, well, the universe had a great sense of irony. (If he didn’t use ‘irony’ right, he didn’t care. It’s his internal monologue, he’d say what he wanted to say).

“Lead the way master,” he said, waiting by the doorframe and tapping his foot impatiently.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Demetrius bit back his own huff of irritation. After all Greg was giving the wing boy what he wanted so he couldn't really complain as much as he would have liked. Shrugging his shoulders some, Dem scooped up the picnic basket off the ground to follow after the now moving Canadian. "Please. Y'didn't run away in the first week, y'ain't gunna now." Which, to Dem was the closest to the truth he could come up with. There was no other defense he could offer up for why Greg wouldn't have shoved him away already.

He gave a rather simple eye roll at Greg's use of the word 'master' and walked past the homesick Canadian to leave their dorm. Figuring Greg would lock the door, Dem made his way down the hall and to the bus stop. He only paused once or twice to make sure Greg was following him

[Greg Mackenzie]

Greg reluctantly followed Dem, happily stomping to show how much he wanted not to be walking outside right now. He’d have a dozen different things he can mouth off to complain about – how he forgot to put sunscreen on and the sun would just give him sunburn in places he didn’t even know existed, that the sun would bring out people that just smell like the sun and he didn’t really like burnt people smell, and a myriad more things – but he caught the tail end of Dem’s thoughts.

He just wanted him to get smiling again.

Talk about the perfect definition of a slap in the face.

So for the rest of the bus ride – and boy did it feel like the longest Greg’s sat on – the usually mouthful telepath was silent. He also kept his distance; he didn’t sit far away from the Texan (still beside him), but kept to his own personal bubble and looked out the distance. Why was he such a jerk? Just when it seemed like he’s finally gotten Dem to turn over a new leaf?

He was so lost in his own thoughts that it wasn’t until they’re about to get off that he spoke a word. “So at least we’re in Vermont. Or are we?”

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Demetrius didn't comment on Greg's stomping. After all, the telepath clearly just wanted to mope about their room in his underwear looking like a right mess. But since the winged boy had ruined that plan - with a wonderfully chilled bottle of water - Gregory was probably in the right to be pouting. As it was, Demetrius was a little surprised that Greg wasn't running his mouth along with the stomping. Not that he would mention it. Dem didn't want to ruin his chances of the quiet.

Had he put some more thought into it, Dem probably could have figured out that Greg had read his mind. But the winged boy was perfectly content to let the silence on the bus ride grow. After all what would he have said? Anything he tried would likely lead to arguing or, maybe even worse, he'd manage to piss Gregory off and the telepath would make good on that threat to turn around.

No, it was better he kept his mouth shut.

Demetrius watched out the window, barely noticing as the bus rolled into a stop. It took a few moments after other passengers began leaving before the winged boy stood up and started his own mission to disembark while keeping the basket level. "We're near the lake, so yeah we're in Vermont. C'mon. Gotta walk a bit." Demetrius huffed slightly like there had never even been an interruption in their conversation. Once the boy was off the bus he waited for Greg before starting to lead the way down to the lake.

"Do y'like bugs or y'afraid of them?"

[Greg Mackenzie]

It took a lot out of Greg not to peer into the other boy’s mind. Oh how he would’ve loved to just know what the whole shebang was about and get it over with. Especially since it seemed a little out of character for the Texan to, well, engage in all these niceties. After all, Greg never really pegged Dem for anything other than a grouch. And he meant that with all the warmth he could muster.

But for the moment, he’d deal. He never noticed the basket until now, but he figured he’d keep his musings to his own. His eight grade English teacher always did say that to assume was to make ‘an ASS out of U and ME’ – him thoughtlessly cursing in class was just one of the reasons why Greg loved him so much – and he’d rather not make a bigger ass out of himself anytime soon.

“Have I ever shrieked ‘cause of a spider?” he answered, probably a little too venomous for his own good, “That was probably T.K. Or Dylan. Probably Dylan.” He picked a fallen branch from the side and began using it as a walking stick, carefully prodding the ground in front of him as he walked. “So humour me. What’s in the basket? A dog? An chopped up body? Your heart?”

Anything to break the uncomfortable silence he’s commanded really.

[Demetrius Wolfbane]

Despite Demetrius' rather aggressive anger, and his tendency to snap at the hand that feeds him, he did care about his friends. Probably a whole lot more than he should. To him, it wasn't really out of character to pay Greg back for the date and to try and get him to smile once again. After all, Greg had fed him while he was sick. Played his little games in the middle of the night. He didn't even complain (too much) that Demetrius woke him up repeatedly only after a few hours of sleep.

"I asked about bugs, not a damn spider. Lightnin' bugs if y'need me specify." Demetrius used all his strength to ignore the venomous tone he heard in Greg's voice. Really, he hadn't expected anything else- except ample amounts of gratitude. So he could deal with Greg being slightly dickish. Though how long his patience would last was anyone's guess.

He tried not to laugh at Greg using a walking stick and stuck to shaking his head as he headed up the path to the pond. Really the Canadian was just being ridiculous. Who needed something like that? But, it was better to shut up. Demetrius glanced up at the sky to assure himself that the nice weather would hold up. "Show y'at the pond." He wanted to be able to properly surprise Greg.

Awhile later they reached the pond and Demetrius took the initiative to pick out a spot, finally removing the basket from his exhausted grip. Who knew food could weigh so much? He removed a towel from inside and flicked it carefully before sitting down. "Alright. 'Fore anythin' else... Y'wanna eat now or after I shove your ass inta the pond?"