Troy Bolton is a Douchebag

Blair glared at him.

"Would you just shut the fuck up about high school, already? Does it look like I'm the same person I was back then, huh? Because it's pretty obvious that I'm not." He said, as he forced himself to look at the TV screen. "So just leave it alone already."

"...Yeah, you seem gayer," he mumbled.

Blair decided to pretend he hadn't heard that, and instead huddled closer to his blanket.

Stupid Yuri, why did it have to be him, of all the people? Of everyone who could possibly room with him, why him? Obviously, the answer was, "God is a douche". Barring that answer, it was just a stroke of terrible luck.

He sighed heavily. Either way, it sucked. Hard.

Yuri glared at Blair. In that moment, his old feelings boiled over; before he could stop himself, he heard the words being said in his voice.

"Can I just ask you something? Why?"

Blair already knew what Yuri meant. It was pretty much impossible not to know. But it wouldn't serve him well to let Yuri know that; after all, playing dumb had gotten him this far.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." He replied, glancing up at Yuri to glower at him.

"Do I have to spell it out?" he growled. The words were coming out faster than he could think. At the core of his being he realized he needed to know, if only for some closure.

At least, that's what he told himself. Closure. Of course he wanted to move on.

Of course.

With almost deathly reaction speed, Blair grinned his fake, douchy grin.

"Oh, that." He said, smiling the way he was because he knew what he was going to say next, "You mean the two years of my life I made a stupid mistake? Because after that, I figured out something; I'm not a faggot, I'm not like you. I used you to try it out, and no one would believe you even if you told them."

On the inside, Blair felt terribly. Unfortunately, there was a sliver of satisfaction buried within him. It felt good to tell Yuri off, even if what he was saying was almost 100% lies. It made him feel guilty, but when didn't Blair feel guilty and hate himself? This was different, though; worse than usual.

This was him pushing away the only person who might even relatively care about him.

Yuri glanced away, unwilling to meet Blair's eyes. If there was one thing years of bullying had taught him, it was that you kept your pain to yourself. The smallest show of sadness or even guilt could be used against you; it was a game where your every word was a weapon to be twisted and used to tear away your flesh. And as a victim, he had become fairly adept at playing his side of the game.

"...Go on and believe I'm a faggot," he said slowly, considering his words. "Everyone will believe you, but I know I've had several girlfriends since high school. Had sex with all of them, too." He couldn't quite say why he was lying, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. After all, he was weak and lonely and unliked by the vast majority--Blair had been his first and last sex partner, and the closest thing to a high school friend. In truth, bluffing was all he had.

"Well, I'll let you in on a little secret then; so did I, dumbass." He laughed, reclining back on the couch. "Oh, and that's taught me one thing; it doesn't matter if you have sex with someone, it doesn't mean you have to like it."

He pointed at Yuri, specifically his chest, and grinned. "Am I breaking your fragile, little homo heart? Well good, because you need to learn your place on the social ladder; you can't treat me like trash, Yuri. Because I will make your life hell. And if you think it's bad now, you just go ahead and wait."

He laughed hollowly, though on the inside he felt small and defeated.

"As if I ever really like you. What are you going to do--turn all of your friends on me? You're too late, pal. I haven't had a friend since high scho--uh, since elementary. No one likes me. Go on and try to make my life a bigger hell, 'cuz you've got your work cut out for you." He glanced at his hands. That slip about high school had been much too close; Blair wasn't his friend. They had been fuck buddies, and nothing more, because Blair Liu was nothing more than a huge, closeted douche bag.

"Oh, I know of ways." He said, waving his hand. "Now, get out of here, unless you want to pay half the cable bill. Oh, but then you'd still owe me because I own the TV, huh? So, fork over some cash, or get the hell out."

Mostly, Blair just wanted to be alone and watch Mythbusters. It might cheer him up, at this point. Whenever it came to Yuri, he always felt twice as guilty about being a douche to him. Of course, it was probably because he still liked Yuri. It had pretty much been all his fault; their getting close, and their growing apart had only happened because of Blair. Yet, he had no intentions of mending the relationship. Thinking about it kind of hurt, and he just wanted to be left alone so he could be emo in peace.

"You wouldn't make your girlfriend pay," he said flatly.

"You're not my fucking girlfriend, now are you?" He replied flatly. "So pay, or get out."

"I was," he said, trying to come off as nonchalant. On the inside he was nothing but, but Blair couldn't know that. "You owe me for all those free fucks."

He almost burst out laughing, though he made a noise that sounded much more close to a sob.

"Oh, are you serious?" He laughed for real this time, running his hand through his hair. "Are you retarded? You don't have anything I want aside from your money; there's no fucking away you can weasel out of this; pay up, bitch."

On the inside, he kind of wished Yuri would just give up; there was no backing down for him, now.

"No, I still have a penis," he said, gritting his teeth. "Stop it."

"Haha, very funny." He remarked. "But I'm being serious here, as much as I'm sure you can't understand that, I want you to pay or get out of my living room."

"My living room too," he replied. "I'll do what I want--you can't make me do anything." Yuri knew he was digging a hole for himself, but he didn't care. He felt miserable, but most of all angry--he wanted Blair to feel shame as well. It was a hot, consuming feeling he was unaccustomed to.

That said, Blair finally stood up. He discarded his blanket onto the couch and walked over to Yuri, towering over him quite a bit. He bent over, slightly, so that he was in the perfect position of intimidation.

"If you don't get out of here, I will make you." He wasn't smiling anymore; not even an amused, jerkish smile. "So take my advice and leave."

"Rape is illegal," he said quietly, hugging his knees to his chest. He wasn't in the mood to put up with Blair's shit; not since high school, and certainly not now. He could go suck a dick for all Yuri cared. He fixed his eyes firmly on the TV, watching the Mythbusters blow things up.

Not completely unexpected, Blair grabbed Yuri and hefted him up, rather easily. He had never been weak, but certainly over his college years he had grown even stronger. He grabbed Yuri by the collar of his shirt and forced him to his feet.

"Get. Out."

"Hit me if you want," he said, shoving Blair away. "Grow up--I live here now, so it's my house too. You're the one who needs to fucking deal--I'm done doing things for you. We're not in high school anymore. You're just a big, stupid jerk."

Blair almost did hit him, too. His temper flared, and he clenched his fist, preparing for a fight. But instead, he let Yuri go. Instead of hitting him, he simply let him go. He walked over to the TV, and he grabbed the remote for the DVD player which was sitting next to it, and he jammed the remote into the TV screen, shattering it.

"Problem solved." He decided definitively. "Now no one can watch TV."

Yuri said nothing, opting instead to sit down on the couch.

"...Coward," he mumbled underneath his breath.

With a huge groan, he threw the remote onto the ground and stormed off, out into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. Great; he didn't want to break the TV, not really. But a mix of emotions had swarmed over him, and he made a dumb mistake. A mistake that was very in character of Blair, but also extremely stupid and dramatic.

He sighed angrily. He needed to cook.