[And after giving the middle finger, he will leave Petre to his stupid nerdy library and go haunt him at the boarding house later. As desired. Prepared to throw hands for that fucking second sock.]
[ He'll be there later, wearing that one sock to spite Finch. See if that's enough to bring out a little more passion or just get the satisfaction of seeing it flare up on Finch's face. Does he even know where Petre's room is? Oh well. ]
[ One foot covered with the precious Garfield sock. He doesn't know what this day has turned into, but that's just Petre's life as most people know it, anyway. He sits on his bed, leaning back to prop himself up on both hands, moves his foot from side to side. ]
[Because he's coming forward to grab that foot with the audacity and grip of bullied tween being teased as monkey in the middle. He will grab Petre solidly by the ankle with one hand, the other looking to rip the sock off him.]
[ That's all he needs to pull his other leg back and kick Finch right on the shoulder, enough strength to make him stumble, if nothing else. Someone who's used to fighting dirty uses both hands next to knock him on the back, one leg on each side of his waist, pinning him down by his shoulders. The sock is half-off, but he doesn't care. This is what he wanted. ]
You go around touching people's feet without permission? That's not very cute of you.
[Finch goes down. Maybe a little too easy, because the breath isn't knocked out of him - and he stares up at Petre with a scowl on his face, hands lifting up to grip him by the elbows. At first, he makes no move to retaliate.]
Why are you always such a little bitch.
[Asked before he exerts his own sudden strength to roll them over, reversing the position - one hand on the front of Petre's throat, palm against his collarbone.]
[ A noise escapes when Finch unexpectedly switches the advantage on him, but Petre is still smiling when his back hits the floor. There's always enjoyment in riling people up. Either that or Petre is too damn good at pretending otherwise. ]
Would you be here if I wasn't?
[ What better way to get someone's attention than being a nuisance? ]
[He's tempted to squeeze his hand against Petre's throat to shut him up but instead moves his palm to Petre's mouth, squishing his cheeks and his lips together from the sides inward. Making him look stupid. Because he's stupid.]
You could just call me for a hook up if you're that desperate for it.
[He wants to say "I don't want your voice tickling my insides" but he knows if he did, Petre'd fucking do it twice as hard. He just stares at Petre for a long moment, wanting nothing but the bite of a cigarette - and squeezes his lips a little more. Idiot. Fucker. Dipshit.]
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why don't you not be a coward and let me see it live
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stop putting words in my mouth, there's more interesting things that can fit in there
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[ Not in front of Wes!! ]
where are YOU
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[ He WILL clothesline you at the door, Finch. ]
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[Good, 'cause he's sprinting on over.]
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skips to post-smacking each other ]
Anyway, I gotta get back to work. Meet me at the boarding house later?
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Bring the sock. Or else.
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[ uh pretend that sounded cool ]
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Be there or stay square.
[And after giving the middle finger, he will leave Petre to his stupid nerdy library and go haunt him at the boarding house later. As desired. Prepared to throw hands for that fucking second sock.]
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Put up your dukes, twink-letoes.]
Gimme it.
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[ One foot covered with the precious Garfield sock. He doesn't know what this day has turned into, but that's just Petre's life as most people know it, anyway. He sits on his bed, leaning back to prop himself up on both hands, moves his foot from side to side. ]
Shan't.
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[Because he's coming forward to grab that foot with the audacity and grip of bullied tween being teased as monkey in the middle. He will grab Petre solidly by the ankle with one hand, the other looking to rip the sock off him.]
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You go around touching people's feet without permission? That's not very cute of you.
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Why are you always such a little bitch.
[Asked before he exerts his own sudden strength to roll them over, reversing the position - one hand on the front of Petre's throat, palm against his collarbone.]
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Would you be here if I wasn't?
[ What better way to get someone's attention than being a nuisance? ]
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[He's tempted to squeeze his hand against Petre's throat to shut him up but instead moves his palm to Petre's mouth, squishing his cheeks and his lips together from the sides inward. Making him look stupid. Because he's stupid.]
You could just call me for a hook up if you're that desperate for it.
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( Am I supposed to answer? I can do it like this if you want. )
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Yeah, sure. Proposition me, c'mon.
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( You'll fuck me harder if you're pissed off. )
[ And he arches his lower back, rolls his hips up. ]
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