Fisher Majors (hearitbleed) wrote in tiberiusswann, @ 2009-11-07 14:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | fisher, lyle |
Sunday Feb. 10th 2008
Who: Fisher and Lyle
What: Fighting and Such
Where: Fisher's Room
When: Very Early Sunday Morning
Rating: R for swearing
After talking to Pey, Fisher sat on the bed beside his drunk brother, looking him over. Minerva had curled up beside Lyle's head and was purring contentedly. Fisher watched his brother another moment, then slapped him upside the head. The young vampire startled away, eyes popping open. "Whatfuck?" He stared over at his brother, scowling. "What the fuck?" he demanded hoarsely.
"What the fuck is right," Fisher snapped, digging in a pinch into Lyle's midsection. "You're cheating on Peyton? What the hell is the matter with you!" He had told Pey that she couldn't be right, that Lyle would never cheat on her, that if he said Raquel was just a friend then he meant it. But Fisher knew about Hope and the flirting there, and how totally inappropriate that was. So if Pey was suspicious, she might have every right to be.
Squirming under Fisher's pointy little fingers, Lyle slapped his brother's hand away. "Knock it off!" he demanded. Pulling himself into a sitting position (and forcing Minerva to move herself and sulk), Lyle ran his fingers through his hair, blinking to try and wake himself up. He glowered at his brother moodily. "What in the fuck are you talking about? I'm not cheating on Pey!" Jesus Christ, the rumor mill of this place never stopped turning. Like nobody had anything better to do then just talk shit about each other. "Who the hell said that?" God, he'd only left with Raquel tonight and already people were assuming shit? He hadn't even dressed all that nice, she'd hit him on the arm when they'd met in the parking lot, and nothing more scandalous then a hug had happened between them. It was almost as if, gasp, they were just friends!
Fisher glared back at his brother. He didn't want to get involved with Lyle's romantic life but the guy loved Peyton and he was completely fucking it up with this shit. And if he had been doing what Pey had assumed he was doing, Fisher was going to kick the crap out of his baby brother. "Peyton," he said icily, pinching his brother again, this time in the leg. "Your girlfriend. Or rather, your "who knows" as she put it. She said you went out on a date with Raquel tonight?" Grabbing his pillow, he took a swing and smacked Lyle in the side of the head. "What the FUCK are you doing to her?? She fucking took care of you and THIS is the bullshit she gets!!" Hitting him again, he threw in a fist to the ribs as well.
Since his brother was a lot weaker than he was (and a lot more sober), Lyle didn't fight back. But he did curl up to try and protect himself. "Would you STOP IT?" he screamed. Grabbing the pillow from Fisher's hands, he tossed it across the room. It landed with a soft 'thump' on the vacant bed. "I'm not fucking cheating on Peyton and it wasn't a date with Raquel! OW!" he shouted, as the medium's bony fist hit his ribcage. "Stop fucking hitting me or I'll bite you!" Of course he wasn't going to bite his brother, that was just sick, but it was the most effective threat he could think of. Luckily it worked, as Fisher backed off for the moment. Rubbing his forehead, Lyle thought over what the hell his idiot brother had just screamed at him.
"Look... Raquel and I went out as friends. Just friends. It wasn't a date, I was playing wingman for her. I'm not interested in Raquel, fuck. She's James' sister, and that's too close a connection between him and you and me, and... no. And besides, I have a girlfriend that you know I'm nuts about, why the fuck would I cheat on her?"
Huffing, Fisher crossed his arms over his chest. "I dunno, moron, why the hell would you go out dancing with a girl? Especially after Peyton specifically told you not to. That sounds like cheating to me."
Lyle turned to look at Fisher, his expression so cold the medium felt a chill run down his spine. "I wasn't cheating," he repeated, voice acidic. "And she doesn't fucking get to tell me what to do. If I had been going out with a guy she wouldn't have given a shit at all. But no, because it's a girl suddenly it's this huge thing. She doesn't trust me, Fisher. She said it right to me, she doesn't trust me. And what the hell have I ever done for her not to trust me!"
Fisher knew what Lyle meant. Significant others didn't get to tell you what you got to do or not, that wasn't how it worked. But he also knew how Peyton felt, because Fisher had worried every time his ex boyfriends had gone out with their girl "friends". And later he'd figred out some of those worries had been justified. But Lyle wasn't innocent and they both knew it. "What about Hope? You gonna tell me that was nothing, that Pey had no reason to worry about that?"
This time Lyle did reach out and smack his brother, though not as hard as he'd wanted to. "That is totally fucking different! And no, Peyton didn't have anything to worry about because nothing was going to happen!"
OW! Lyle hit really, really hard. Rubbing his arm, Fisher glared at his vampire brother. "Lacy underwear is something to worry about," he said tersely. "And harmless flirting turns into fucking trouble fast."
"Well I'm not you!" Lyle snapped. "I can flirt and not have it mean something, not have it completely fuck up my life." He was being mean and he knew it, and he didn't care. His buzz was wearing off and Fisher had woken him up and he was pissed. Not to mention he knew that flirting with Hope was crossing a line and he felt guilty about it. "And anyway, that was before. Before seeing her parents and getting sucker punched in the nutsack by her dad, and giving her the ring and her taking care of me and... and..." The steam ran out of his argument, the words falling into silence. Pey was probably super pissed at him right now. She probably had reason to be. "She's so fucking insecure," he grumbled. "I mean I can't win no matter what I do, so why the fuck am I gonna keep trying? I jump through hoops for her and she complains the hoops aren't big enough."
Fisher didn't know Pey well enough to know if what Lyle was saying was true, but he supposed it was. One of the huge perks of not dating women was not dating their crippling insecurities. None of Fisher's boyfriends had ever asked him if they looked fat, or got pouty when he talked to other men. Well... none except James. But that was a line of thought best avoided. "Look, fucktard, you went out with another girl. In a very date-like setting. And she's a teenager, and you're a stupid fuck horny twenty year old. Of course she's insecure. And you don't give her cause not to be, you moron."
The vampire moved so quickly, Fisher could not have avoided the swing if he'd tried. Lyle's arm swung out, hitting his brother hard in the chest, knocking him to the floor. Fisher landed flat on his back, breath stolen from him momentarily. "Fuck you!" Lyle hissed venomously. "You don't know shit about me and Peyton!"
Grabbing Lyle's jeans leg, Fisher tore his baby brother off the bed, climbing on top of him and pounding fists into his torse. "Don't fucking HIT ME!" the medium shrieked, landing a few good hits in. "I know you're MY brother and I know dad fucking cheated on mom and you're too fucking STUBBORN for your own good!"
"Don't compare me to dad!" Lyle shouted, trying to grab hold of Fisher's wrists. Skinny little fucker that arms like willow branches. "And don't fucking compare me to you! I am NOTHING like you, I fucking love Peyton and I'm not a selfish little prick who just fucks everything under the sun OUCH!" He'd managed to get a grip on Fisher's right arm, his swinging arm, and had almost grasped the other when the fucker sunk his teeth into Lyle's knuckle. The vampire shoved Fisher off him, who hit the side of the bed. Stupid asshole fought dirty.
Fisher was not match for anyone in a fight, not even a seven year old girl. So when he did fight, he pulled out all the stops. Not exactly dignified, but at least he was still alive. His back hurt from being slammed into the floor and then the bedframe, and his mouth hurt from Lyle's knuckle driving into his teeth. He held his jaw a moment, wincing. "You're being fucking stupid," he said angrily. "She told me to tell you to stay the hell away from her."
Lyle couldn't understand the big deal. He just didn't see it. He and Raquel were friends, nothing else, never would be. "I don't want fucking Raquel McCafferty," he said hotly. "Nothing happened tonight, nothing is ever going to happen with her, or with anyone else. I just want Pey." Climbing to his feet, Lyle flopped back onto Fisher's bed, curling up on his side. Now he was a depressed drunk instead of an angry one, and he wasn't drunk enough to justify this level of unhappiness. "Fine," he said dully. "I'll stay away from her. Leave me alone."
Lyle was pitiful. Fisher watched his brother from the floor, rubbing his sore mouth. He believed that nothing had happened tonight, that Lyle didn't want anyone but Pey. Fisher thought he was an idiot, but the idiot was in love. Which, naturally, made him that much more an idiot. Climbing up onto the bed, Fisher laid down behind his brother, putting an arm over his him and resting his chin on Lyle's shoulder. The young vampire was staring at his own hands in front of him, eyes glistening. "Go the fuck away," he whispered.
"No," Fisher replied simply, laying his head on the pillow and cuddling close to his brother. They'd never been touchy-feely before, never hugging while growing up. The most contact they ever came in was to hit one another. So while it was awkward to be spooning with his brother, it also felt kind of nice. This was it right here, this was their family. Mom and dad were stupid and cruel and useless, and most other relatives were estranged. This was the end of the bloodline. "It'll be okay," Fisher murmured softly, sitting up a moment to pull the heavy comforter over them both. He settled back down, arm over Lyle's chest, hugging him. Lyle sniffled, but didn't reply.