JereCent |Lemons|

Dead Man Walking

Dead Girl Man Walking

JereCent (Heathers AU)

I know who I'm eating lunch with on Monday.

Do you?

Jeremy Fitzgerald was fucked.

And that was putting it nicely. Destroyed, ruined, completely and utterly done for. Doomed. Dead to the most popular girl in high school-  and, subsequently, everyone else.

Jeremy Fitzgerald was a dead man walking.

It was his own fault, really. If he hadn't been so desperate to get the imbecilic dicks off his back, maybe he wouldn't have met Mrs. Flemming outside of the girls' bathroom with that forged hall pass. If he hadn't been so selfish, maybe he would've tried harder to keep that note from making it to Felicity. If he hadn't been so selfless (the irony was not wasted on him), maybe he wouldn't have stepped in to protect Felicity from the situation he had put her in to begin with.

And then maybe he wouldn't be walking down the street alone at two in the morning, drunk off his ass and knowing that, on Monday morning, he'd be deleted. Hunted down, stuffed, and mounted on the wall as an example to anyone who might be considering pissing off the demon queen of high school herself, Heather Chandler. Like a moron.

Jeremy stumbled slightly as he walked, the copious amounts of alcohol (way passed the legal driving limit, he was certain) still flowing through his system and impairing every function of his body- except his thoughts, apparently, as they were racing.

He had thirty hours to live. That's if he stuck around Sherwood. He could always change his name and hightail it up to somewhere safer. Like Seattle.

Jeremy sighed internally. He had no where to get anywhere else. All of his rides were either his parents (hell no) or the people who he would be running from in the first place (fuck no). So. He was stuck. Stuck spending his last thirty hours wandering aimlessly through the streets of Sherwood, Ohio, pondering all of his most recent life choices.

He glanced around at the houses lining the street, porch lights shining through the bleak darkness that accompanied two AM. Everyone was asleep by now, he knew. Everyone who wasn't at the party, at least. Everyone except the tall, brown haired guy stripping in the window. Woah wait, stripping? Indeed he was, pulling his deep purple tee-shirt over his head and tossing it too the side. The boy looked oddly familiar. And hot. Wait. Hold on there, back up a sec Fitzgerald. Hot? Since when were you so gay? Especially for that new kid, what was his name-

"Vincent?"

Jeremy paused, his eyes locked on Vincent's figure as the taller boy got himself ready to settle in for the night. Morning? Whatever, it didn't matter. What mattered was that Vincent was half naked- oh wait, make that mostly naked. Jeremy watched Vincent undo the clasp of his belt, pulling it loose but not off, before unfastening the button of his jeans. Jeremy found himself strangely disappointed that the window blocked anything below Vincent's hips as the boy removed his jeans and tossed them in the same general direction as his shirt.

Jeremy could only imagine how messy Vincent's room must've been. Being the clean freak he was, this thought would normally bother him. But right now- and maybe this was the alcohol talking- Jeremy Fitzgerald would NOT mind getting a little dirty.

Vincent clicked off the lamp that illuminated the room, casting it into darkness instead and snapping Jeremy back to reality. Jeremy blinked a few times, finding his face warmer than it had been a minute ago- and his pants only slightly tighter. Ok maybe more than slightly. His hand easily found the bulge in his pants, shifting it slightly to ease the mild discomfort it was causing him, his eyes never leaving the darkened window.