Mistaken Rooms - PETER -

[ASHTON COLE JOHNSON]

<sup>He'd been pretty sad the last couple of days, and when I mean sad I mean pathetic. Having stayed in the past week spending his time lurking on the chat room. There really wasnt anything interesting going on, but he figured why not, he had nothing better to do. well no thats not true he probably could have gone out he just didnt feel like it. The past couple of times being on the chat had been kind of boring, no one had been on, but then this one kid. Ashton rolled his eyes a bit. He still wasn’t too sure what to even… say to that. He had pretty much had no comments when it came to Peter. At least yet. So far he didn’t…c ompletely annoy him. Though sometimes his abiltiy to constantly be in a good mood was… obnoxious. Then again it seemed Ashton knew just how to get rid of that. The only problem was, where ashton should be happy about that and victorious… he wasn’t. instead when he noticed he pointed it and then would randomly say something that might possibly take the kids mind off the subject at hand and get him to ‘lol’ again. IT didn’t always work but the fact that he even thought of it was a problem.

Tonight though, ashton had decided to fuck the internet and he was going out. He really just wanted to get wasted tonight. Maybe get laid. That sounded like a good plan.

Of course that ‘good’ plan turned sour a few hours into the night. He should have known too. The minute the band came on playing their shitty ass techno music that didn’t even sound in tune. Maybe it was the drummer or.. the keytarist. One of them or.. all of them was off beat. It was seriously distracting and made his head ache. He thought he was gong to get dizzy from the shitty screetches in his ears. People kept touching him too. He got his ass grabbed and two girls decided to pull him into their little dance fest smashing his scrawny ass between them as if air never existed between three bodies before that. When he found the joint passing circle.. by the time it got to him, it was pretty much gone. Really could the night get any worse. Oh yes… yes it could. Someone threw up on his shoe so he took it to the bathroom to wash it and dry it best he could but some high mother fucker walked in tried to get ashton to join him in a stall and when he refused cornered him agains the wall next to the blowers. After slamming his fist into the guys jaw and shoving him away, not caring how the guy landed or if he hit anything, before storming out putting his shoe on getting the fuck out of the club, one soggy step at a time. Cause we all know how wonderful wet shoes feel like.

Hed already drank quite a bit in the beginning and through out the night, but he felt like the shit that was going on was a buzz kill. Plopping down on the curb he ran a hand through his hair. Someone sat down next to him, he could smell the booze oozing off of the guy. He didn’t look at him but an offered bottle came into his view and he took it, tipping his head back and downing quite a bit before handing it back. He heard a small chuckle next to him but the guy didn’t try to talk yet. Ashton closed his eyes, hed try and get a cab soon he just needed to take a small break first. Even if he didn’t feel very drunk his body was still getting the affects and he was just slightly light headed. The guy offered the bottle again as he rummaged in his pockets for a cigarette. They were banning smoking in all businesses and this happened to be one of the clubs that had the ban in it already.

Ashton didn’t bug, he took the bottle taking another couple of healthy swigs. It burned going down but he had no idea what it was. He didn’t care really. \

‘got a name?

Ashton groaned hoping this would have stayed as a silent meeting. The guy prodded again even nudging him. Ashton sent him a glare. It was time to leave. He stood up, holding the bottle out to the guy. No.. he said and then stepped back up onto the walk and walked down it till he got to a more clear area and waved down a taxi.

Suprisingly it didn’t take one before one was coming up. Ashton got in, even in his enebriated state he used the the bottom of his shirt to open the door and close it. He gave directions and then sat back closing his eyes from the blur of the lights out the window.

After paying the cab driver and having had that time for the alcohol to finally kick in he made his way up to the building only having nearly lost his balance a few times. He used the rails and the wall to help get his way through to the dorm rooms. He eyes were barely staying open as he walked into what he thought was his room. He didn’t notice anything around him just made for his bed and fell face first on it with a grunt, burying his face it the much softer then his pillow. The scent of someone else all over it, but he was just glad that he was home and could maybe sleep this night off.</sup>

[PETER BERGAN WALKER]

Nights had been crazy boring for Peter recently. He had thought about going and finding some friends to hang with, but as it turned out the only friend he really know to hang out with was Alex. Alex, Peter's ex boyfriend, didn't really have a lot of time for Peter anymore. That was okay with Peter. He'd rather spend his time writing, which was exactly what he had decided to do. Usually Peter would look on the chat and see if anyone was there, but this time he decided against it. He wasn't in the mood to deal with that Ashton guy and his constantly trying to figure things out. It upset Peter that some person he didn't know had so much on him, but he didn't know anything about this guy. Peter was beginning to feel more and more vulnerable. He didn't even know what this Ashton guy looked like for God's sake.

Peter licked his lips and leaned over the notebook that sat in front of him on his bed. He closed his eyes, trying to feel the lyrics come back to him. It just didn't seem to be working. Peter sighed as he crawled off of his bed and tossed the notebook onto his desk. Lately Peter had been having trouble channeling his muse. He didn't know what to do. He spent hours trying to get the lyrics to come to him but in the end he would only sit there and stare with nothing but a blank mind. Writer's block really sucked at times. He just couldn't seem to get a hold of himself the way he needed to. Music was important to Peter and writing was important to Peter. Not being able to do those things really hurt him sometimes. Peter needed to be able to have that outlet. It was the only way that he could channel his feelings into something important to him.

A loud growling sound caught Peter's attention. He looked down toward his stomach, realizing that he hadn't eaten all day. Peter sighed, thinking that it probably was the best time for a break. He pushed a hand through his hair as he moved out from his room. Peter didn't bother locking the door. He never locked the door really. This time Peter figured that he was just going down to the vending area. After a quick snack and a drink he could come back and everything would be just the way that he left it. Peter hummed as he walked down the hall toward the vending area. It wasn't a long walk really, but it felt nice to finally be able to stretch his legs. Peter glanced at all the doors as he passed, wondering for brief moments what these people had to go through in order to get to where they were. Peter knew what he had to go through and it wasn't pretty.

Finally Peter stopped at a machine. He, of course, ended up with a Grape Fanta to drink. Grape Fanta was absolutely Peter's favorite. If there was a choice of Grape Fanta, then that would be what he would end up drinking. Peter moved to the snack machine and punched in the numbers for Skittles and a bag of Ruffles Chips. He sat down in one of the chairs and chilled out for a minute. He kind of needed the time to just sit there and reflect anyway. Peter finished the skittles first, tossing the wrapper in a near by garbage can. During these times when Peter was completely alone... he thought about how alone he really was. Peter was actually afraid of being alone. He hated it, but there was nothing that he could do about it. Then again, maybe that Ashton guy was right. Maybe he just needed to get out. The bad thing about that was that getting out had been the downfall of most the people he cared about. He didn't want to end up in that downward slope.

Peter yawned after finishing off the chips and fanta, throwing his trash where it belonged in the garbage. He stood, stretching his arms in the air. Maybe it was time for him to try and sleep. Peter never really slept. It was a bad sort of habit, but he would try to sleep. He would sometimes managed up to twenty or thirty minutes of restful sleep before the nightmares would kick in. Now Peter still tried every now and then, but for the most part he just avoided sleep. Peter walked toward his room, intending to go to his bed and lay down. Peter pushed his door open slowly and walked toward his bed. The lights were off, which was what Peter had thought would be best for thinking before. Peter moved toward his bed and slipped in. He yawned, turning on his side. That's when Peter noticed that he wasn't alone in his bed.

After letting out a loud yell Peter jumped out from the bed and pressed his back to his wall. WHO ARE YOU?! He said loudly. What are you doing in my bed? Peter licked his lips, reaching for something to defend himself with. He ended up grabbing his notebook and holding it like it was a weapon. Peter edged himself slowly toward the light switch and flipped it on. ....it's spiral bound and I'm not afraid to use it.

[ASHTON COLE JOHNSON]

<sup>The bed was comfortable. Far mor so then his own. Ashton just figured the alcohol was making it feel better. His head was hurting and the sound of the door opening made him bury his head more so into the pillow. His roommate was home. He wished he wasn’t, then again what did it matter. He made a small satisfied hmm into his pillow it wasn’t too loud and most of it was muffled by the pillow. It smelled good. He honestly didn’t remember it ever smelling like that. He was probably dreaming. Why hed be dreaming of the smell of someone else he didn’t know. Nor did he know why he was dreaming about someone getting into his bed, the dip if it seemed so real but he made no move. His mind spun a bit maybe he should just go with it, sling an arm around the person and pull them in, have his dirty way with them. Maybe if he had some kind of release itd get rid of his headache and it had been quite a while since hes had a wet dream. Hell he wasn’t even sure he ever had had one. Itd be a nice change from his normal dreams.

Before ashton could make a decision there was a loud yell and the bed jostled as his dream person, dude? The yell wasn’t super feminin, got out of the bed. Ashtons brows drew together against the pillow wondering why his dream would be running away from him. He rolled over slowly his eyes lifting up just barely as he took in the dark room and a dark figure agaisnt the wall the only light coming from the window. Ashtons brows shot up and he smirked stretching his long limbs a bit. hey hey hey… he said his voice fogged by alcohol and tiredness. no need to yell.he said. besides since when do you run from me… come here… he patted the bed. you’re supposed to make me feel better.. he had a half smirk half grin curled at the corner of his lips. I don’t feel like playing games.. Ashton didn’t play these games especially with figmants of his imagination. Or.. figmants of his sleep, he didn’t know what to refer to it as.

The person went on though grabbing something and then they were reaching for something. Ashton hissed his eyes squeezing shut as he threw his arm over his face, the brightness of the light above searing into his eyes. for fucks sake, whatd you do that for.. his grumbled blinking furiously to get rid of the dots in his eyesight as they tried to get used to it. It still hurt a bit but at least now he could open his eyes again, still half lidded. Sitting up he tilted his head, his eyes moving over the body in front of him with their ‘weapon’. Ashton gave a little snort and what might be considered a kind of laugh. Yes I can really see the damage you’ll cause with that.. he swung his legs over and then stood up, stretching again, it felt good. His body missed the bed already. He rubbed at his hair and then turned back towards the guy, yes it was now for sure a guy. A rather attractive guy… ashton wasn’t sure he had ever seen someone as attractive that wasn’t a celebrity or a model or something. His tongue came out some running it over his bottom lip as he moved towards the guy. good job imagination.. he praised himself, not thinking that maybe this person was familiar looking in the face, the alcohol was pushing that away.

Now give me that.. he reached out to take the notebook not sure if the guy would really attack him or not, but this was his dream of course hed give it over and then ashton would pin him to the wall and then the rest would be history.

You’re the one that’s here for me. In my bed. So let me have this and we can get this show on the road yeah?one brow quirked up his head tilting just slightly at the question. It wasn’t really a question as more of a cross between a suggestion and an order. He had to lean forward some, bracing his hand on the wall near the guys shoulder. I have a feeling this ones going to be…. good he leaned in voice closer to his ear a few inches away, voice lowered in what he was trying to be seductive but it wasn’t that easy in his state or the fact his voice was monotone, but he liked to think it was effective. He was forgetting that the guy was threatening him and that his movements would cause him to strike out. But this was his dream and that’s not supposed to happen.</sup>

[PETER BERGAN WALKER]

Peter wasn't a wimp, but in no means was he a violent person. Sure, Peter could defend himself if things came down to it. It's in his nature, though, to stop and consider non-violent alternatives. An intruder in his room was the last thing Peter needed. Peter shook his head, trying to focus on what the boy was saying. He was still fumbling to turn the lights on when he heard the guy say that he wasn't supposed to run from him, but make him feel better. The breath caught in Peter's through. He felt like he was in a panic. Peter managed to draw in a deep breath as he found the light switch. He had no idea who the person was in his room. He had no idea who it was that seemed to think that he was there to make them feel better. Peter couldn't help that his mind jumped to the worst possible situation.

Upon hearing the sound after the lights had been flipped on, Peter was sure that had been a good idea. Peter stared, wide-eyed and ready to use his notebook, though he probably would try and talk through things first. He drew his lip between his teeth as he watched the brown-haired boy looked him over. Peter let go of his lip and pressed them together as he heard the laugh-sound that came from the boy at his weapon of choice. It's not like I keep a gun in my desk... this is all I have. He answered honestly. Peter tensed as the boy began to get off the bed and move toward him. He knew that he was in a bad place against he door. It was blocking the guy's way out, but Peter was afraid to move too much. He didn't want to set off any alarming motions. This wasn't a situation that Peter was used to being in so ideas were few for him.

Peter felt his heart race as the boy came closer, reaching out to take the notebook away from him. His lips parted as if to protest, but he said nothing as the notebook was taken from his hands. This was it. Something was about to happen and there was nothing that Peter could do to defend himself. He mentally chided himself for not holding on to the only weapon that he had. Peter's brows knit together as the boy went on to explain that Peter was there for HIM and that Peter was in HIS bed. Peter didn't know what show the boy was referring to, but he didn't want it to go on any road. He wasn't even sure he wanted there to be a show.

No... I... there's a mistake... this is my room. Peter said, his voice breaking as he was backed against the door. He straightened his back, leaning his head back against the door. Peter's breathing deepened. He was so nervous. Peter could feel the sweat starting to bead up at his hair line. Sweating was always a nervous habit of Peter's. He felt a drop roll down the side of his face. What's going to be good? Peter asked quickly. What are you going to do to me? Peter's eyes were still wide. His muscles had tensed so that he couldn't really do anything but stay there. Peter didn't know what the boy holding him against the door was capable of. Don't hurt me... please don't hurt me. I don't know... I'll... give you anything except my guitar... just... stop... please. Peter begged.

This is my room... I promise... I'm here for me. That's my bed, this is... it's... my room. Peter couldn't think straight enough to not repeat the same thing over and over. He didn't want to be hurt or raped or anything. Peter just wanted for this guy to leave his room so that he could try and get some rest.