two player game

you got quick?

"I told you not to wash that off,"
barked Eugene, emphasizing his words with a shove to the middle of Peter's back, pushing forward, and emitting a yelp.
"I'm talking to you, fag."
"Why do you call me that? I'm not even- I'm not gay."
Peter sighed, grabbing for the bag he'd previously attempted to wash, and heading for a stall.
Eugene laughed, watching the taller boy as he made his way to a urinal, himself.
"You sure act like one, huh? With those girly little squeals, the way you're always hunched over and shy, like you're trying to hide - You're only further proving my point by trying to hide from me in a stall. Stalls are for girls. Are you a girl, Peter?"
Peter stopped, having decided against going into the stall, after that.
"How do you- how are you talking to me when you're--? You know."
"Confidence,"
Eugene replied, with the slightest of nods, the corners of his lips curling into a cocksure smirk.
"You might wanna watch the floor,"
Peter suggested, averting his gaze, when he'd caught himself looking in that direction.
Eugene stepped back, holding his head in his hands with a seemingly uncomfortably tight grip.
"I just remembered, I don't have t--"
"Don't. Move."
Eugene finally removed his hands, whipping himself around, and stepping closer to Peter.
"You don't remember me freshman year, do you?"
"Flash, you didn't-- you weren't here freshman year."
"Yes, I was!" Eugene shouted, apparently a little distraught.
"You just didn't notice."
He sighed, allowing himself a moment to calm down, before speaking again.
"No one did."
Peter cocked his head.
"Huh? How'd you get so--"
"Shut it."
Peter only nodded in response, biting his bottom lip, and waiting for Eugene to continue.
"I was a loser, just like you, you know. Maybe even worse. Terrible sexting, girls wouldn't come within fifty feet of me. My little - well, not exactly little - penis was /so/ lonely, Peter. You know how that feels."
Peter furrowed his brows, opening his mouth to retort, but he quickly stopped himself.
He didn't need any more bruises.
"I tripped over air, which, by the way, I've seen you do /a lot./ I couldn't utter a sentence without stuttering- again, just like you. D'you know how I fixed it all?"
Peter only shook his head, much too intimidated by Eugene to respond verbally.
"Do you?"
A light kick to his shin, and Peter all but squealed, shaking his head with a vaguely frantic "no, how?"
"I got a squip."
"You got- you got quick?"
"No, dipshit. /Squip./"
"Sorry, I've just never heard of-"
"That's the point! This is some top secret, can't even look it up on the internet shit!"
Eugene practically beamed.
"It's from Japan. It's a grey, oblong pill; quantum nanotechnology CPU. The supercomputer in the pill will travel through your blood, until it implants in your brain, and it tells you what to do."
"So... It's like... Drugs?"
"It's better than drugs, Peter. It's from Japan."
"Where can I get a- a squip?"