catwalksalone: happy grey cat surrounded by flowers (dan casey bench)
Cats. Not to be trusted. ([personal profile] catwalksalone) wrote in [community profile] rat_jam 2007-03-30 01:38 pm (UTC)

James Dean, Sports Night, Dan/Casey, rock and roll, PG

"You ready?"

"Yup. Lemme just..." Casey shut down the computer then straightened up. "'K, Danny, let's rock and roll."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"What no?"

"You can't do it. You don't have it in you."

"I don't have it in me to be ready?" They started walking. "I'm always ready. Raring to go. All guns blazing. Hellza popping."

"No," said Danny. And, "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"This pathetic attempt to recreate your youth by utilising slang that would have never seen the inside of your mouth in a million years. It's not you, it never was you, it never will be you, now stop it." Dan patted Casey's arm and smiled.

"I'm not-"

"You are, my sadly deluded friend, you are."

Casey couldn't think of a retort that wouldn't descend into schoolyard squabbles so he let the space grow. They were in the car by the time Dan spoke again.

"So what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Casey, I've known you for what feels like at least sixty lifetimes, you only start trying to be cool when something's happened. So spill."

Casey stared out of the passenger window at the tree trunks passing by. He liked to count the seconds in between each one, he'd never been able to figure out which amused him more, the exact regularity of their planting or Dan's steady 25mph, never slower, never faster.

"She called me an old man."

"Firstly, she's clearly observant, secondly, who's she?"

"The dark haired girl in the library, the one with the bangs, what's her name?"

"Melissa. Melissa was mean to you? I'm shocked. Shocked and appalled. Maybe your incessant flirting finally ground her down."

"I do not flirt."

"Hey, Melissa," said Dan in his fake-Casey voice, "you're looking very fresh today. Is that a new scent you're wearing? Here is a profound, yet manly tome that I am checking out in order to impress you when really what I wanted was a book on gay sex for the over seventies."

Casey laughed and swatted half-heartedly at Dan, leaving his hand resting on Dan's thigh.

"I do not do that."

"Oh, but you do. It's kinda cute." Dan's hand moves from the wheel to grasp Casey's briefly before returning to the exact same position. His eyes never waver from the road. "Seriously she called you 'old man'? That's not like her."

"Actually there were these teenagers and one of them pushed me a little on the way to the desk. Melissa said 'Be careful, Mr McCall is an old man, have some respect.'"

"So being you, you chose to focus on the old man thing and not on the respect thing. Oh, Casey." Dan shook his head. "And now I'm going to have to put up with the hepcat talk until you've got it out of your system."

"I guess I don't think about it much," said Casey. "Being old. Because I don't feel that way with you. You make me feel rock and roll even if I never liked the music all that much."

"Now that you can say whenever you like."

"I can?"

"Yup."

"Maybe when we get home I'll say it again."

"That, I can handle," said Dan. "I'll bring the rock, you bring the roll. And if we make it out alive, I'll fix you dinner."

"And if we don't?"

"Well you know how it goes: live fast, die young, leave a good-looking corpse. One out of three's not bad."

"No," said Casey, watching the tree trunks beginning to blur as suburbs gave way to forest. "It's not bad at all."

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