Status: one-shot
Three Whole Words, Eight Letters Late
eight letters late
They are fifteen years old. It’s been a year to the day since the accident that took Daniel’s life, and Alex is a mess. He’s been crying all day, glued to Zack’s side as they watch movies on the ancient, slightly mouldy-smelling couch in Zack’s basement. Zack doesn’t know what to do besides hold him. There is nothing he can say to take away the pain. So he just sits there, arms around Alex, rubbing his back and occasionally nuzzling him. He ignores the dizzy, tingly feeling he’s getting from being this close to his best friend, because he definitely is not ready to even think about the possibility of having a crush on another guy. Besides that, he’s pretty sure it’s extremely inappropriate to even think that kind of thing about Alex.
Alex tugs at his shirt, looking up at him with sad eyes and sniffling delicately. He whimpers softly before burying his face in Zack’s neck. Zack whispers, “I’m not going anywhere,” unable to trust his voice not to betray him. “Lex, I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.” Alex’s arms curl around his neck; the brunette clings to him helplessly, unable to voice his feelings. For a very long time, they stay like that, with Zack occasionally reaching up to stroke Alex’s cheek or pet his hair. The words are sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he knows that it would be a mistake to say anything. It scares him to see Alex like this; he’s gotten so thin over the last year. He’s so tiny and so vulnerable and so very, very fragile.
He sighs, wishing the day would just end so that their lives can go back to normal. It’s sort of a selfish thing to wish, but at fifteen years old this is still difficult for him to process. Alex is probably the person he’s closest to and it’s weird for him to see his normally cheerful best friend so upset. Since he’s been slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that may not be attracted to women, he’s been paranoid about getting too close with other guys in case they think he’s... Well, that. He already knows what people around the school say about him and Alex. The last thing he needs is more people accusing him of being gay. But Alex’s body is warm, his skin soft, and it’s hard to deny the fact that being this close to him is giving Zack butterflies. He chooses to put those thoughts out of his mind. Today, he needs to set all his other feelings aside and be there for Alex in whatever way he can.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers. It’s a false promise, but the emotions behind his words are real. There are other things he wants to say, too, but thinking about actually saying them is too much. He presses his lips to Alex’s forehead, leaving them there a moment before he starts to feel embarrassed and pulls away. Fifteen year olds shouldn’t be doing this kind of thing, he thinks. They shouldn’t have to know this type of pain and loss; they shouldn’t have such barriers to overcome. All the months of hard work, the thousands of dollars spent by Alex’s parents on speech therapists and pathologists and hours and hours of counselling are going to waste. He’s not talking. Zack suspects that all the fuss is actually making the problem worse; drawing attention to the problem is only causing Alex greater embarrassment. It’s unfair.
So Zack knows that he’s crying as much for his lost brother and the rift in his family as he is for himself. He whines quietly; Zack kisses his forehead again. Alex looks up at him, curious eyes tinged with sadness. His lower lip is trembling, and for a terrible moment Zack wonders if he might finally say something. Instead of saying anything at all, he sighs miserably and burrows further into Zack’s arms.
Zack says, “It’s okay. I’m right here.” He isn’t sure why Alex has come to him for comfort at all – he’s terrible at knowing what to say in this type of situation and his doughy stomach can’t be very appealing. But as long as Alex needs him to be, he’s there. It’s so cold in the basement... With only a faint twinge of guilt, he squeezes Alex’s waist gently, pulling him even closer.
The words die on his lips before he can say them, so he mouths ‘I love you’ into his best friend’s hair instead. He spends the rest of the afternoon with Alex curled up against him, crying on and off, although it seems mostly to be ‘on’. And he makes stupid jokes, trying to get the boy to smile, though he knows it probably won’t work. It pays off in the late evening, though, when Alex dozes off in his arms, smiling faintly. That sight alone makes the entire day worth it. He feels slightly creepy, sitting in his basement watching his best friend sleep. However, as far as concerns go, there are worse people he could find himself falling for. He probably won’t act on these feelings. Zack’s not sure if Alex feels attracted to anyone, to be entirely honest. It might be better that way. People don’t understand Alex. They don’t understand that he didn’t choose to be this way, that it just happened, and that prodding him and asking about it constantly is not going to make it better. There is nothing wrong with him. Alex is fine – no, more than fine – just the way he is.
*
Zack realizes halfway through the day that it is three years to the day since the accident, and neither of them has said anything about it. Alex is lying on his bed, rereading his college essay for what feels like the thousandth time while he paces his bedroom, fretting about them. He pauses for a minute, studying Alex’s face as he reads, sucking on the end of his pen absentmindedly. Is it his imagination, or do Alex’s clothes seem tighter than usual today? Something is different about him; his jeans are hugging him in all the right places and his shirt is riding up his stomach ever so slightly. He even smells different, which is weird. Zack’s stomach sinks. Oh God, he thinks, it’s finally happening. Alex is interested in someone, and he’s trying to impress them, which explains both his appearance and the slight change in his demeanour. It doesn’t make sense for him to get all pretty just to hang out with Zack, though, and especially not on a day that is typically marked with sadness for both of them. The pieces to the puzzle don’t fit right.
To most people, it probably wouldn’t have mattered – it was only a pair of jeans and a hoodie, after all. But to Zack, it was the most fragile of hopes precariously set in front of the world’s largest wrecking ball. Alex chucks a balled-up piece of paper at him, demanding his attention once more. “You’re annoying,” he mutters, sitting down on the bed next to Alex nonetheless. “So is it good?” he asks hopefully. Alex wrinkles his nose, gnawing at his lower lip thoughtfully.
He writes, ‘Well, you won’t be winning the Pulitzer Prize for your writing anytime soon, but I think it’s probably good enough to get you into a decent college.’ Zack frowns at the backhanded compliment. Alex winks at him, setting his notepad aside to tug Zack down so that they are lying side by side. The glow-in-the-dark stars they stuck up when they were twelve are still there, peeling and drooping after years of being attached improperly to the stucco ceiling. He fights the urge to reach out and brush Alex’s bangs out of his eyes; it’s a losing battle.
“You’re a brat,” he informs his best friend. “I am a brilliantly talented writer.”
Alex shakes his head, mouthing the word ‘No.’ He reaches for Zack, rearranging their limbs until he’s curled neatly into the blonde’s side. Satisfied with their position, apparently, he nuzzles Zack’s shoulder affectionately. This is confusing. The tip of his nose barely touches Zack’s neck as he moves even closer, until their bodies are pressed together in a way that does not feel entirely innocent.
Zack breathes out shakily, allowing his arms to snake around Alex’s waist. He wonders if Alex can hear his heartbeat, because he can feel it pounding in his ears. Maybe he was premature in his dismissal of the landmark day; maybe this is Alex’s reaction to the anniversary of his brother’s passing. For a few minutes, he says nothing. He’s willing his stupid heart to calm down and stop embarrassing him, because he’s almost positive Alex can feel it going crazy. When the brunette’s fingers graze his arm lightly, he has to remind himself that they are just friends, no matter how much he wishes they were more than that. “You okay?” he asks softly. Alex nods, tugging at his lower lip like he does when he’s anxious or nervous. Zack can’t quite figure out what’s wrong. It bothers him, knowing that he can normally read his best friend like a book but that Alex’s present state of mind eludes him. “Alex, what’s wrong?”
‘Nothing.’ But it is obviously something, and if it’s not the memory of the day three years prior, then he doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t know what to do about – or how to fix – a problem that Alex won’t tell him about. There’s never been anything like this before; Alex has always told him everything. Zack feels the jealousy bubbling up inside him. Oh God, there is definitely someone else. And his grip on Alex’s waist tightens almost imperceptibly; it feels like Alex is slipping away from him. Soon there will be college and car rides and distance between them. It already hurts to think about. He wonders if Alex is thinking the same thing, but that can’t be it. The answers are never that simple.
*
They are sixteen years old. Alex is sitting by himself in the hospital waiting room; Zack has been gone for about half an hour. He doesn’t like not knowing what is going on. All he can think about is the brief instant it took him to hear the sickening snap of bone breaking, and the panic that had gripped his throat so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe. It’s one of those moments he is really kicking himself for, because if he wasn’t so screwed-up he would have been able to do more. But he isn’t brave. He cannot defend himself; he is powerless to deflect the things people say about him with words, because every time he even thinks about trying to speak, it feels as if his throat is trying to close in on itself. People have been flitting in and out of the room so quickly... Zack is probably fine by himself; he’s much braver than Alex could ever hope to be, but all the same Alex still feels guilty because this is his fault. If he wasn’t fucked up, Zack would not have to fight all his battles for him.
He remembers the way Zack’s arms wrapped around him protectively as he cried. It was stupid, really, and he shouldn’t have been so emotional about it. People could be so cruel, though. And it was equally as stupid the way he clung helplessly to Zack and the way he instantly felt a little bit better after that, even though people were still saying awful things about him that may or may not have been true. It had been such a little remark – some stupid kid named Ben had called him a name, but it stung.
He had been waiting by Zack’s locker – Alex’s classes let out early on Friday afternoons because he went to the alternative school across town, so he had walked over to wait for Zack until his classes finished for the day. He wasn’t even doing anything; he was sitting there waiting for his best friend because the bell had just rung, and then this asshole comes over, glares at him, and says, “Hey, faggot. Are you waiting for your stupid boyfriend or something?” And of course, Alex couldn’t say anything in reply. Panic gripped at his throat. When he didn’t respond, the guy shoved him. “What, are you stupid or something?”
Zack came running over. “Leave him alone, Ben,” he growled, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist. “He’s not doing anything to you, so fuck off.” Alex whimpered, wishing he could be anywhere but there. He clung to Zack, trying to hide his tears, but it was too late. Zack hugged him tight, whispering, “It’s okay, Lex, I’m right here... You’re okay, you’re okay... He’s just an asshole. It’s okay, I promise. I’m right here.”
“You know, they shouldn’t let fags like you into our school, Merrick.”
Alex felt Zack’s muscles go tense. He was trying very hard not to have a panic attack, but even with Zack’s arms around him, he couldn’t calm himself down. Zack kissed his forehead lightly before letting go. There were only a handful of times Alex could remember ever seeing him this angry. He hissed, “You can either shut the fuck up, Ben, or I’ll make you. Your choice.”
The kid said, “What, did it offend you that I upset your boyfriend? You’re fucking disgusting.”
Before Alex even understood what was happening, Zack’s fist had connected solidly with the asshole’s face. He hates fighting; it is absolutely the most abhorrent thing anyone can do to hit another human being, but at the same time he felt a tiny thrill because Zack was defending him. He looked away, not wanting to watch. Then he heard the telltale clang of fists hitting metal, the unmistakable crack of bone splintering. “You fucker,” Zack spat at Ben’s retreating form. It hadn’t been a fair fight. Zack, muscular though he was, had been grossly overpowered by the other boy. He was cradling his injured wrist, obviously trying not to cry. “I hope someone fucking stabs him and leaves him to bleed to death in the street,” Zack muttered.
Alex wrapped his arms around Zack’s neck and hugged him tight, mumbling “I’m sorry” into his neck. Zack didn’t hear him. Right? Or he would’ve said something back...
Zack emerges from the double doors sporting a white plaster cast that already has a few signatures scrawled across it. “Sorry I took so long,” he apologizes. “You know you didn’t have to wait for me, right?” Alex wants to say something like, ‘You know you don’t have to defend me all the time,’ but he doesn’t. He knows he’s probably blushing, so he allows his bangs to flop into his eyes, at least obscuring part of his face. They walk home side by side, and after a few minutes Zack takes Alex’s hand with his good one, lacing their fingers together with a smile. Alex’s stomach does backflips. He can’t stop thinking about one thing: Zack didn’t correct Ben when Ben called Alex his boyfriend. It’s a small thing – and so, so stupid – but it means the world to him. Maybe Zack didn’t even realize he had done it.
Before long, they are standing on the sidewalk between their houses. Zack hugs him, and Alex wishes he could say something to thank Zack for always standing by him. They’re just standing there, looking into each other’s eyes. It’s slightly awkward. Alex leans up and presses his lips to Zack’s cheek, hoping he’ll understand that this means ‘thank you.’
Zack clears his throat and says, “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Lex. Please don’t feel like this is your fault or anything... It wasn’t. I should have had better control of myself. But that shit just makes me so angry... I mean, I’m not going to stand by and let somebody treat you like shit. I, um...” And Zack looks like he’s going to say something else, but if he is, Alex never finds out what it is, because Mama Merrick chooses that moment to appear and begin berating her son for getting into a fight at school. Zack sighs, giving Alex one last quick hug before trudging over to his house to face whatever punishment his mother would dole out on him.
*
“Zack.”
The sound of his name being spoken pulls him out of sleep. Groggily, he rubs at his eyes, trying to gather his wits about him. Alex is gazing up at him, biting his lip cutely and playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Shit,” Zack yawns. Then it dawns on him. “Did you just...?” Alex’s cheeks flush pink, and he nods before burying his face in Zack’s shoulder to hide his embarrassment. Wow. Zack doesn’t know what to do; he runs his hand up and down Alex’s side to try and calm him, which seems to be making his distress worse for whatever reason. He doesn’t want to scare the boy – this is the first thing Zack has heard him say in years, and he’s praying to whatever god might be listening that this is a sign something good is happening, finally.
After a few minutes, Alex’s breathing slows to its normal rate. He looks so precious with a blush fading on his cheekbones, peeking up at Zack from beneath his bangs. “Hi,” Alex whispers, looking terrified. His fingers dig into Zack’s bicep, but it’s okay as long as he keeps this up. God, he is beautiful. Zack really wants to kiss him right now, which he knows would be a very bad decision, but he honestly can’t stop himself from wanting to. Alex’s lips look so soft and kissable.
“You okay?” he asks, forcing himself to look at the wall instead of his best friend. The smaller boy’s fingers brush his neck and damned if his heart doesn’t skip a beat at the simple contact. The rational half of his mind is worrying about Alex. But the irrational part – the part that is winning by a landslide at the moment – can only focus on the fact that, for the first time in three years, Alex has said something. His name. That has to mean something. It’s almost dizzying to think about.
“Zack,” Alex says again. His voice is different than Zack had expected it to be, a little deeper but definitely gorgeous. “I...” He begins to blush again, a faint pink tinge creeping across his pale skin. Zack’s heart is thumping in his chest; this is the kind of thing he only ever dreams about. Alex’s teeth clamp down on his full lower lip anxiously. The next words out of his mouth almost make Zack’s heart stop. “I love you.”
Zack makes a sort of strangled noise in his throat; his brain isn’t processing this quite right. Did Alex really just... It can’t be happening. He’s probably dreaming this. He’s going to wake up and think that this is real, and it’s going to be really embarrassing and Alex will think he’s an idiot. But it would kind of explain Alex’s behaviour over the past few weeks – the new clothes, the change in attitude, the... Oh God. He really is an idiot. Alex has been trying to impress him this whole time, and he didn’t even notice. “I-I,” he stutters. “I l-love you too...”
“You do?” Alex whispers shyly. His grip on Zack’s arm loosens.
Zack nods. “I love you so much,” he murmurs. It’s almost overwhelming how his body is reacting to this turn of events. He reaches up and strokes Alex’s cheek affectionately, still in utter disbelief. Alex nuzzles against his hand gently, sliding his arms up until they’re around Zack’s neck. “Can I kiss you?” Zack whispers, terrified that Alex is going to say no. His synapses are obviously not firing correctly. What is he thinking? Alex is going to say no; any halfway logical person would say no.
But then Alex is leaning in, and he can smell that delicious combination of Old Spice and cologne, and... Their lips brush softly, foreheads touching, noses rubbing together awkwardly. Alex pulls away, and whispers, “That was my first kiss ever.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth; basically, he’s the most precious thing Zack has ever seen in his entire life. It’s unbelievable that someone this perfect has never been kissed before. That simply won’t do. Zack presses his lips to Alex’s, letting out a little sigh of contentment as Alex smiles into the kiss. He nips at the boy’s lower lip softly, pulling Alex closer to him and running his fingers through Alex’s soft hair. Alex mumbles an “I love you” into his lips and whines when Zack pulls away.
Zack trails his fingers along the smooth expanse of skin where Alex’s shirt has ridden up. “We should do this right,” he says, gazing lovingly into Alex’s dark eyes. Getting that look in return sends a shiver down his spine. Nervously, he asks, “Will you be my boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” Alex breathes, snuggling into his chest. He smiles sweetly, pokes Zack’s cheek and purrs, “Hi, boyfriend. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Zack sighs happily. His fingers glide over Alex’s exposed hipbone, tracing little circles into the soft skin. Alex gasps at the unexpected contact, pressing his lips against Zack’s skin until Zack takes the hint and leans over to kiss him properly. Their lips are saying more than words possibly could; they are saying ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m glad that you’re mine’ and ‘I need you’ and ‘I want you’. Zack sucks on Alex’s lower lip, seeking permission to deepen the kiss. A moment later, Alex parts his lips, making a tiny sound in the back of his throat as their tongues meet, exploring previously uncharted territory. His hands slide up Zack’s shirt, eliciting an embarrassing moan from his boyfriend.
He pulls away from Zack long enough to murmur, “Off,” and give the bottom of his t-shirt a meaningful tug. Impatiently, he starts pressing kisses into Zack’s neck, and repeats himself. “Shirt. Off.” Zack obliges, yanking it over his head and tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of his laundry basket. Alex smirks and says, “That’s better.” His fingers graze Zack’s abs, trailing up his chest uncertainly. “I have a sexy boyfriend,” he announces, kissing Zack’s jaw lightly.
Zack kisses his forehead. “I like you this way,” he says. “Does this mean you’re...?”
“Only to you,” Alex explains. He sits up and slithers out of his hoodie quickly before coming back to snuggle with Zack. “You’re different. I love you.” Somehow Zack suspects that this is the best explanation he is going to get at the moment, but he is strangely okay with that. He’s grinning like an idiot. There is no way in hell that he deserves this perfect creature in his arms. He can’t help leaning over and kissing Alex softly, can’t help touching him, can’t help loving him. “I love you,” Alex says again. Zack will never hear those three words often enough. He has missed this so, so much over the past three years.
*
They are sixteen years old. Junior prom has just ended, and Alex is sitting in his room alone, watching for Jack’s car in the driveway next door. He’s been seething with jealousy all evening, ever since he met Zack’s date and took pictures of them standing together and smiling. No one noticed how badly his hands were shaking with the camera. It should’ve been him standing next to Zack, smiling and laughing and making bad jokes nervously. The worst part isn’t having had to see that; it’s knowing that this other guy was the one Zack wanted to dance with all night. This other guy is the person Zack wants to hold close and laugh with and smile at and maybe – probably – kiss goodbye on his doorstep. Alex isn’t sure he can handle that. It should be him, not some random guy that goes to Dulaney, which is all the way across town. He wants to hate the skunk-haired boy Zack asked to prom, but the problem is that Jack is actually a nice person. Jack is funny and smart and handsome. Alex is none of these things; he’s a little awkward, his hair sticks up in every direction no matter what he does to tame it, and he’s selectively mute. It’s not hard to understand why Zack would ask Jack instead of Alex.
His stomach twists uncomfortably as he watches the car pull into the Merricks’ driveway. Jack gets out of the car first and walks around to open the passenger side door for Zack. They’re smiling at each other, laugh, and Alex feels a pang of jealousy. He has no rational reason to hate Jack. It’s ridiculous; he should not be waiting up for his best friend to come home from a stupid school dance. From his bedroom window, he can see the entire driveway as well as the front porch. He watches unhappily as they embrace, talking and giggling awkwardly before Jack leans in and kisses Zack. It’s one of those high school romance movie kisses, the ones where the guy touches the girl’s face and pets her hair and looks into her eyes for a long time afterward.
Alex would really like to punch Jack Barakat out for kissing Zack. He can feel the rage building up inside his chest like steam. ‘Stop,’ he wants to shout. He wants to run over there in a totally cliché eighties-movie way, shove Jack out of the way and declare his undying love to Zack. He wants to throw his arms around Zack’s neck and kiss him so hard he forgets that Jack even exists. But of course, it’s not going to happen because Alex is a coward. He is powerless to do anything but sit with his forehead pressed against his bedroom window, watching the love of his life kiss this other boy. And in his typical bitter, cynical way, he thinks about the fact that Jack has a weird nose and that his limbs are too long for the rest of his body. He’s an awkward, gangly thing. Why is Zack attracted to him?
“Stop,” he says, and it surprises him when it comes out. His voice is a horrible, rasping sound. It’s embarrassing. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing his palm flat against the glass. The tears keep coming until Jack’s car creeps out of the driveway, headlights off, and Zack is safely inside his house. Alex watches for his bedroom light to go out before crawling into bed, where he pulls the covers up over his head and he cries some more.
He is a terrible friend for feeling this way. Zack has found someone who makes him happy, so he should be happy too. But he isn’t; it feels like someone has ripped his heart out and thrown it carelessly into the street so it can be run over again and again by passing cars. The next day, when Zack comes over to tell him all about he, he pretends to be excited. He nods in all the right places, writes down a few stupid jokes, and tries to keep his eyes wide and bright. On the inside, he feels like dying. He can’t stand it. He can’t stop thinking about seeing Zack – his Zack – kissing someone else.
“So what did you do last night?” Zack asks him.
He shrugs, rolls his eyes. ‘The usual stuff,’ he writes. ‘You know, watched some T.V., took a shower, jerked off to some pictures of your beautiful face...’ Zack laughs and gives him a little shove. He pretends to pout, but he is actually glad that he’s doing a better job at pretending to feel normal than he’d thought he would. Finally, he works up the courage to ask the question he’s been dying to ask all day. ‘So... Do you think you’ll go out with Jack again?’
Zack bursts out laughing. “Oh God,” he says. “Jack’s really not my type. He’s a good friend, but I don’t think I would want to date him. Besides, I’m kind of interested in someone else.”
Alex wants to ask, ‘Why did you let him kiss you then?’ but doesn’t. That would make him sound incredibly clingy, not to mention more than a little creepy. He can’t help wondering who Zack is interested in, though. They don’t hang out with anyone other than each other, and occasionally Jack and his friends that go to Dulaney. It’s going to bother him until he figures it out. He writes, ‘Stay away from my dad, bro. That’s creepy as shit.’ They both laugh, and pretty soon junior prom is all but forgotten. Alex is incredibly relieved. He doesn’t know what he would do if Zack actually started dating someone. It would consume him with jealousy, and he wouldn’t be able to deal with it.
*
They’ve been delegated back to the mouldy-smelling couch in the basement by Zack’s parents. Alex doesn’t know why they bother anymore; the concrete walls still don’t mask the sounds of their arguments and they never have. He snuggles into his boyfriend’s chest, wondering if it would be inappropriate to make out while Zack’s parents are still home or not. Zack’s working on pushing his already-too-small shirt up, and so far he has pretended not to notice. It’s working – Zack’s hand runs up and down his side insistently, so he sighs, sitting up to pull the shirt over his head and discard it on the floor. “Are you happy now?” he mutters, still acting like he’s annoyed with his boyfriend for being a pervert. Secretly, he’s really enjoying it and is hoping for more of the same in the very near future.
“Very,” says Zack, pulling Alex into his lap. “You were wearing too many clothes before.”
Alex sticks his tongue out, fully aware that this is only going to add to his boyfriend’s sexual frustration. His efforts are rewarded by Zack’s arms wrapping around his waist, bringing their bodies closer together. “Hmmm,” he sighs. “Shirtless boyfriend. I like this.” He squeezes Zack’s bicep before leaning up to capture his lips in a soft kiss, running his hands over Zack’s chest. The way Zack kisses makes him feel like he’s melting; their tongues and teeth and lips move together and it’s amazing.
Upstairs, a door slams, but they both ignore it. Alex moans quietly as Zack’s mouth moves along his neck, pausing briefly to suck at his pulse point before continuing to kiss along his jaw. He tries his hardest not to do anything embarrassing, but this feels like nothing he’s ever experienced before. Zack murmurs, “God, you’re beautiful,” and that’s enough to make him blush instantly. He wants to reply with something like, ‘Have you seen yourself lately?’ but he doesn’t trust himself to say anything at the moment. When Zack’s teeth graze his skin, he whimpers, digging his fingernails into Zack’s arm.
“Uh,” he moans, raking his nails across Zack’s stomach. He knows he’s going to have an epic hickey after this. That doesn’t mean he cares; not when his boyfriend’s gorgeous mouth is all over his skin, leaving kisses and little nips and bites everywhere. “Zaaaaack,” he whines. “Stop being a fuckin’ t-tease.”
“Who’s teasing?” Zack murmurs, biting hot and hard at his collarbone. His teeth clamp down, leaving a dark purple mark on the sensitive skin. “Mine,” he says possessively. Alex has to admit that this newly-found possessive streak is kind of hot... Zack straddles his hips, pushing him back onto the couch and kissing him hungrily. He can feel Zack’s erection pressing against his thigh, and that thought alone is enough to add to his own arousal. This is because of him – he’s the one turning his boyfriend on like this, which is amazing but also slightly terrifying. It’s all he can do to keep from bucking his hips up into Zack’s, even though he very much wants to.
Alex can feel his self-control slowly slipping away; what little he had left dissolves as soon as he feels Zack’s lips close around his nipple, sucking at it gently until he’s moaning Zack’s name, breathing hard and whimpering. “Oh God,” he says, more breathily than he had intended. He can’t help it anymore; his hips are rocking against Zack’s and it feels so, so good, and if this is how good it feels before Zack even touches him then he can’t wait for what comes after. It doesn’t even matter that they are on a couch in a basement. They could be doing it on a bed of nails and Alex would still want – would still need – this. “I need you, I need...” His jeans are becoming uncomfortably tight; will it make him look slutty if he reaches between them to undo them? Apparently Zack has been having the same thought, because a moment later they are both fumbling with zippers, buttons, belt buckles. Alex manages to work his jeans down around his thighs.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” Zack moans.
Alex can’t say anything anymore; the movement of their hips is making this delicious type of friction and all he can do is cling to Zack and make incomprehensible noises. He can feel the tension building, and in the rational part of his mind he realizes that it is probably a very bad idea to be dry humping his boyfriend on a couch in his basement, but the other part of his mind really does not care. All it cares about is the fact that he’s really, really close and that he needs to get off. Zack’s hair is beginning to curl; little beads of sweat are running down his neck and that’s what does it for Alex. He grips Zack’s shoulders, sinking his teeth into Zack’s collarbone as he’s practically seeing stars.
Zack looks down at him, kisses his forehead softly and sighs. “Well, that was... uh.” Alex can feel his heartbeat under his fingertips as he wraps his arms around Zack’s neck, pulling him down for another kiss. They kiss lazily, sloppily, both trying to recover from what had turned out to be a very rewarding experience. Zack pulls away and laughs. “I guess you had to make up for three years of not talking somehow, huh? You can’t seem to shut up now. Although... those little noises you make are ridiculously hot.”
Solemnly, Alex reaches up and flicks his boyfriend’s nose. “You’re an asshole,” he mumbles. His face is hot with embarrassment. Zack smiles and kisses him an apology. Yeah, he’ll take that. They don’t need to talk anymore, anyway; years of not being able to has taught Zack how to read his body like a book. And that, he thinks, might come in handy sooner rather than later...
Alex tugs at his shirt, looking up at him with sad eyes and sniffling delicately. He whimpers softly before burying his face in Zack’s neck. Zack whispers, “I’m not going anywhere,” unable to trust his voice not to betray him. “Lex, I promise you, I’m not going anywhere.” Alex’s arms curl around his neck; the brunette clings to him helplessly, unable to voice his feelings. For a very long time, they stay like that, with Zack occasionally reaching up to stroke Alex’s cheek or pet his hair. The words are sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he knows that it would be a mistake to say anything. It scares him to see Alex like this; he’s gotten so thin over the last year. He’s so tiny and so vulnerable and so very, very fragile.
He sighs, wishing the day would just end so that their lives can go back to normal. It’s sort of a selfish thing to wish, but at fifteen years old this is still difficult for him to process. Alex is probably the person he’s closest to and it’s weird for him to see his normally cheerful best friend so upset. Since he’s been slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that may not be attracted to women, he’s been paranoid about getting too close with other guys in case they think he’s... Well, that. He already knows what people around the school say about him and Alex. The last thing he needs is more people accusing him of being gay. But Alex’s body is warm, his skin soft, and it’s hard to deny the fact that being this close to him is giving Zack butterflies. He chooses to put those thoughts out of his mind. Today, he needs to set all his other feelings aside and be there for Alex in whatever way he can.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers. It’s a false promise, but the emotions behind his words are real. There are other things he wants to say, too, but thinking about actually saying them is too much. He presses his lips to Alex’s forehead, leaving them there a moment before he starts to feel embarrassed and pulls away. Fifteen year olds shouldn’t be doing this kind of thing, he thinks. They shouldn’t have to know this type of pain and loss; they shouldn’t have such barriers to overcome. All the months of hard work, the thousands of dollars spent by Alex’s parents on speech therapists and pathologists and hours and hours of counselling are going to waste. He’s not talking. Zack suspects that all the fuss is actually making the problem worse; drawing attention to the problem is only causing Alex greater embarrassment. It’s unfair.
So Zack knows that he’s crying as much for his lost brother and the rift in his family as he is for himself. He whines quietly; Zack kisses his forehead again. Alex looks up at him, curious eyes tinged with sadness. His lower lip is trembling, and for a terrible moment Zack wonders if he might finally say something. Instead of saying anything at all, he sighs miserably and burrows further into Zack’s arms.
Zack says, “It’s okay. I’m right here.” He isn’t sure why Alex has come to him for comfort at all – he’s terrible at knowing what to say in this type of situation and his doughy stomach can’t be very appealing. But as long as Alex needs him to be, he’s there. It’s so cold in the basement... With only a faint twinge of guilt, he squeezes Alex’s waist gently, pulling him even closer.
The words die on his lips before he can say them, so he mouths ‘I love you’ into his best friend’s hair instead. He spends the rest of the afternoon with Alex curled up against him, crying on and off, although it seems mostly to be ‘on’. And he makes stupid jokes, trying to get the boy to smile, though he knows it probably won’t work. It pays off in the late evening, though, when Alex dozes off in his arms, smiling faintly. That sight alone makes the entire day worth it. He feels slightly creepy, sitting in his basement watching his best friend sleep. However, as far as concerns go, there are worse people he could find himself falling for. He probably won’t act on these feelings. Zack’s not sure if Alex feels attracted to anyone, to be entirely honest. It might be better that way. People don’t understand Alex. They don’t understand that he didn’t choose to be this way, that it just happened, and that prodding him and asking about it constantly is not going to make it better. There is nothing wrong with him. Alex is fine – no, more than fine – just the way he is.
*
Zack realizes halfway through the day that it is three years to the day since the accident, and neither of them has said anything about it. Alex is lying on his bed, rereading his college essay for what feels like the thousandth time while he paces his bedroom, fretting about them. He pauses for a minute, studying Alex’s face as he reads, sucking on the end of his pen absentmindedly. Is it his imagination, or do Alex’s clothes seem tighter than usual today? Something is different about him; his jeans are hugging him in all the right places and his shirt is riding up his stomach ever so slightly. He even smells different, which is weird. Zack’s stomach sinks. Oh God, he thinks, it’s finally happening. Alex is interested in someone, and he’s trying to impress them, which explains both his appearance and the slight change in his demeanour. It doesn’t make sense for him to get all pretty just to hang out with Zack, though, and especially not on a day that is typically marked with sadness for both of them. The pieces to the puzzle don’t fit right.
To most people, it probably wouldn’t have mattered – it was only a pair of jeans and a hoodie, after all. But to Zack, it was the most fragile of hopes precariously set in front of the world’s largest wrecking ball. Alex chucks a balled-up piece of paper at him, demanding his attention once more. “You’re annoying,” he mutters, sitting down on the bed next to Alex nonetheless. “So is it good?” he asks hopefully. Alex wrinkles his nose, gnawing at his lower lip thoughtfully.
He writes, ‘Well, you won’t be winning the Pulitzer Prize for your writing anytime soon, but I think it’s probably good enough to get you into a decent college.’ Zack frowns at the backhanded compliment. Alex winks at him, setting his notepad aside to tug Zack down so that they are lying side by side. The glow-in-the-dark stars they stuck up when they were twelve are still there, peeling and drooping after years of being attached improperly to the stucco ceiling. He fights the urge to reach out and brush Alex’s bangs out of his eyes; it’s a losing battle.
“You’re a brat,” he informs his best friend. “I am a brilliantly talented writer.”
Alex shakes his head, mouthing the word ‘No.’ He reaches for Zack, rearranging their limbs until he’s curled neatly into the blonde’s side. Satisfied with their position, apparently, he nuzzles Zack’s shoulder affectionately. This is confusing. The tip of his nose barely touches Zack’s neck as he moves even closer, until their bodies are pressed together in a way that does not feel entirely innocent.
Zack breathes out shakily, allowing his arms to snake around Alex’s waist. He wonders if Alex can hear his heartbeat, because he can feel it pounding in his ears. Maybe he was premature in his dismissal of the landmark day; maybe this is Alex’s reaction to the anniversary of his brother’s passing. For a few minutes, he says nothing. He’s willing his stupid heart to calm down and stop embarrassing him, because he’s almost positive Alex can feel it going crazy. When the brunette’s fingers graze his arm lightly, he has to remind himself that they are just friends, no matter how much he wishes they were more than that. “You okay?” he asks softly. Alex nods, tugging at his lower lip like he does when he’s anxious or nervous. Zack can’t quite figure out what’s wrong. It bothers him, knowing that he can normally read his best friend like a book but that Alex’s present state of mind eludes him. “Alex, what’s wrong?”
‘Nothing.’ But it is obviously something, and if it’s not the memory of the day three years prior, then he doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t know what to do about – or how to fix – a problem that Alex won’t tell him about. There’s never been anything like this before; Alex has always told him everything. Zack feels the jealousy bubbling up inside him. Oh God, there is definitely someone else. And his grip on Alex’s waist tightens almost imperceptibly; it feels like Alex is slipping away from him. Soon there will be college and car rides and distance between them. It already hurts to think about. He wonders if Alex is thinking the same thing, but that can’t be it. The answers are never that simple.
*
They are sixteen years old. Alex is sitting by himself in the hospital waiting room; Zack has been gone for about half an hour. He doesn’t like not knowing what is going on. All he can think about is the brief instant it took him to hear the sickening snap of bone breaking, and the panic that had gripped his throat so tightly he almost couldn’t breathe. It’s one of those moments he is really kicking himself for, because if he wasn’t so screwed-up he would have been able to do more. But he isn’t brave. He cannot defend himself; he is powerless to deflect the things people say about him with words, because every time he even thinks about trying to speak, it feels as if his throat is trying to close in on itself. People have been flitting in and out of the room so quickly... Zack is probably fine by himself; he’s much braver than Alex could ever hope to be, but all the same Alex still feels guilty because this is his fault. If he wasn’t fucked up, Zack would not have to fight all his battles for him.
He remembers the way Zack’s arms wrapped around him protectively as he cried. It was stupid, really, and he shouldn’t have been so emotional about it. People could be so cruel, though. And it was equally as stupid the way he clung helplessly to Zack and the way he instantly felt a little bit better after that, even though people were still saying awful things about him that may or may not have been true. It had been such a little remark – some stupid kid named Ben had called him a name, but it stung.
He had been waiting by Zack’s locker – Alex’s classes let out early on Friday afternoons because he went to the alternative school across town, so he had walked over to wait for Zack until his classes finished for the day. He wasn’t even doing anything; he was sitting there waiting for his best friend because the bell had just rung, and then this asshole comes over, glares at him, and says, “Hey, faggot. Are you waiting for your stupid boyfriend or something?” And of course, Alex couldn’t say anything in reply. Panic gripped at his throat. When he didn’t respond, the guy shoved him. “What, are you stupid or something?”
Zack came running over. “Leave him alone, Ben,” he growled, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist. “He’s not doing anything to you, so fuck off.” Alex whimpered, wishing he could be anywhere but there. He clung to Zack, trying to hide his tears, but it was too late. Zack hugged him tight, whispering, “It’s okay, Lex, I’m right here... You’re okay, you’re okay... He’s just an asshole. It’s okay, I promise. I’m right here.”
“You know, they shouldn’t let fags like you into our school, Merrick.”
Alex felt Zack’s muscles go tense. He was trying very hard not to have a panic attack, but even with Zack’s arms around him, he couldn’t calm himself down. Zack kissed his forehead lightly before letting go. There were only a handful of times Alex could remember ever seeing him this angry. He hissed, “You can either shut the fuck up, Ben, or I’ll make you. Your choice.”
The kid said, “What, did it offend you that I upset your boyfriend? You’re fucking disgusting.”
Before Alex even understood what was happening, Zack’s fist had connected solidly with the asshole’s face. He hates fighting; it is absolutely the most abhorrent thing anyone can do to hit another human being, but at the same time he felt a tiny thrill because Zack was defending him. He looked away, not wanting to watch. Then he heard the telltale clang of fists hitting metal, the unmistakable crack of bone splintering. “You fucker,” Zack spat at Ben’s retreating form. It hadn’t been a fair fight. Zack, muscular though he was, had been grossly overpowered by the other boy. He was cradling his injured wrist, obviously trying not to cry. “I hope someone fucking stabs him and leaves him to bleed to death in the street,” Zack muttered.
Alex wrapped his arms around Zack’s neck and hugged him tight, mumbling “I’m sorry” into his neck. Zack didn’t hear him. Right? Or he would’ve said something back...
Zack emerges from the double doors sporting a white plaster cast that already has a few signatures scrawled across it. “Sorry I took so long,” he apologizes. “You know you didn’t have to wait for me, right?” Alex wants to say something like, ‘You know you don’t have to defend me all the time,’ but he doesn’t. He knows he’s probably blushing, so he allows his bangs to flop into his eyes, at least obscuring part of his face. They walk home side by side, and after a few minutes Zack takes Alex’s hand with his good one, lacing their fingers together with a smile. Alex’s stomach does backflips. He can’t stop thinking about one thing: Zack didn’t correct Ben when Ben called Alex his boyfriend. It’s a small thing – and so, so stupid – but it means the world to him. Maybe Zack didn’t even realize he had done it.
Before long, they are standing on the sidewalk between their houses. Zack hugs him, and Alex wishes he could say something to thank Zack for always standing by him. They’re just standing there, looking into each other’s eyes. It’s slightly awkward. Alex leans up and presses his lips to Zack’s cheek, hoping he’ll understand that this means ‘thank you.’
Zack clears his throat and says, “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Lex. Please don’t feel like this is your fault or anything... It wasn’t. I should have had better control of myself. But that shit just makes me so angry... I mean, I’m not going to stand by and let somebody treat you like shit. I, um...” And Zack looks like he’s going to say something else, but if he is, Alex never finds out what it is, because Mama Merrick chooses that moment to appear and begin berating her son for getting into a fight at school. Zack sighs, giving Alex one last quick hug before trudging over to his house to face whatever punishment his mother would dole out on him.
*
“Zack.”
The sound of his name being spoken pulls him out of sleep. Groggily, he rubs at his eyes, trying to gather his wits about him. Alex is gazing up at him, biting his lip cutely and playing with the sleeves of his hoodie. “Shit,” Zack yawns. Then it dawns on him. “Did you just...?” Alex’s cheeks flush pink, and he nods before burying his face in Zack’s shoulder to hide his embarrassment. Wow. Zack doesn’t know what to do; he runs his hand up and down Alex’s side to try and calm him, which seems to be making his distress worse for whatever reason. He doesn’t want to scare the boy – this is the first thing Zack has heard him say in years, and he’s praying to whatever god might be listening that this is a sign something good is happening, finally.
After a few minutes, Alex’s breathing slows to its normal rate. He looks so precious with a blush fading on his cheekbones, peeking up at Zack from beneath his bangs. “Hi,” Alex whispers, looking terrified. His fingers dig into Zack’s bicep, but it’s okay as long as he keeps this up. God, he is beautiful. Zack really wants to kiss him right now, which he knows would be a very bad decision, but he honestly can’t stop himself from wanting to. Alex’s lips look so soft and kissable.
“You okay?” he asks, forcing himself to look at the wall instead of his best friend. The smaller boy’s fingers brush his neck and damned if his heart doesn’t skip a beat at the simple contact. The rational half of his mind is worrying about Alex. But the irrational part – the part that is winning by a landslide at the moment – can only focus on the fact that, for the first time in three years, Alex has said something. His name. That has to mean something. It’s almost dizzying to think about.
“Zack,” Alex says again. His voice is different than Zack had expected it to be, a little deeper but definitely gorgeous. “I...” He begins to blush again, a faint pink tinge creeping across his pale skin. Zack’s heart is thumping in his chest; this is the kind of thing he only ever dreams about. Alex’s teeth clamp down on his full lower lip anxiously. The next words out of his mouth almost make Zack’s heart stop. “I love you.”
Zack makes a sort of strangled noise in his throat; his brain isn’t processing this quite right. Did Alex really just... It can’t be happening. He’s probably dreaming this. He’s going to wake up and think that this is real, and it’s going to be really embarrassing and Alex will think he’s an idiot. But it would kind of explain Alex’s behaviour over the past few weeks – the new clothes, the change in attitude, the... Oh God. He really is an idiot. Alex has been trying to impress him this whole time, and he didn’t even notice. “I-I,” he stutters. “I l-love you too...”
“You do?” Alex whispers shyly. His grip on Zack’s arm loosens.
Zack nods. “I love you so much,” he murmurs. It’s almost overwhelming how his body is reacting to this turn of events. He reaches up and strokes Alex’s cheek affectionately, still in utter disbelief. Alex nuzzles against his hand gently, sliding his arms up until they’re around Zack’s neck. “Can I kiss you?” Zack whispers, terrified that Alex is going to say no. His synapses are obviously not firing correctly. What is he thinking? Alex is going to say no; any halfway logical person would say no.
But then Alex is leaning in, and he can smell that delicious combination of Old Spice and cologne, and... Their lips brush softly, foreheads touching, noses rubbing together awkwardly. Alex pulls away, and whispers, “That was my first kiss ever.” A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth; basically, he’s the most precious thing Zack has ever seen in his entire life. It’s unbelievable that someone this perfect has never been kissed before. That simply won’t do. Zack presses his lips to Alex’s, letting out a little sigh of contentment as Alex smiles into the kiss. He nips at the boy’s lower lip softly, pulling Alex closer to him and running his fingers through Alex’s soft hair. Alex mumbles an “I love you” into his lips and whines when Zack pulls away.
Zack trails his fingers along the smooth expanse of skin where Alex’s shirt has ridden up. “We should do this right,” he says, gazing lovingly into Alex’s dark eyes. Getting that look in return sends a shiver down his spine. Nervously, he asks, “Will you be my boyfriend?”
“Yeah,” Alex breathes, snuggling into his chest. He smiles sweetly, pokes Zack’s cheek and purrs, “Hi, boyfriend. I love you.”
“Love you too,” Zack sighs happily. His fingers glide over Alex’s exposed hipbone, tracing little circles into the soft skin. Alex gasps at the unexpected contact, pressing his lips against Zack’s skin until Zack takes the hint and leans over to kiss him properly. Their lips are saying more than words possibly could; they are saying ‘I love you’ and ‘I’m glad that you’re mine’ and ‘I need you’ and ‘I want you’. Zack sucks on Alex’s lower lip, seeking permission to deepen the kiss. A moment later, Alex parts his lips, making a tiny sound in the back of his throat as their tongues meet, exploring previously uncharted territory. His hands slide up Zack’s shirt, eliciting an embarrassing moan from his boyfriend.
He pulls away from Zack long enough to murmur, “Off,” and give the bottom of his t-shirt a meaningful tug. Impatiently, he starts pressing kisses into Zack’s neck, and repeats himself. “Shirt. Off.” Zack obliges, yanking it over his head and tossing it somewhere in the vicinity of his laundry basket. Alex smirks and says, “That’s better.” His fingers graze Zack’s abs, trailing up his chest uncertainly. “I have a sexy boyfriend,” he announces, kissing Zack’s jaw lightly.
Zack kisses his forehead. “I like you this way,” he says. “Does this mean you’re...?”
“Only to you,” Alex explains. He sits up and slithers out of his hoodie quickly before coming back to snuggle with Zack. “You’re different. I love you.” Somehow Zack suspects that this is the best explanation he is going to get at the moment, but he is strangely okay with that. He’s grinning like an idiot. There is no way in hell that he deserves this perfect creature in his arms. He can’t help leaning over and kissing Alex softly, can’t help touching him, can’t help loving him. “I love you,” Alex says again. Zack will never hear those three words often enough. He has missed this so, so much over the past three years.
*
They are sixteen years old. Junior prom has just ended, and Alex is sitting in his room alone, watching for Jack’s car in the driveway next door. He’s been seething with jealousy all evening, ever since he met Zack’s date and took pictures of them standing together and smiling. No one noticed how badly his hands were shaking with the camera. It should’ve been him standing next to Zack, smiling and laughing and making bad jokes nervously. The worst part isn’t having had to see that; it’s knowing that this other guy was the one Zack wanted to dance with all night. This other guy is the person Zack wants to hold close and laugh with and smile at and maybe – probably – kiss goodbye on his doorstep. Alex isn’t sure he can handle that. It should be him, not some random guy that goes to Dulaney, which is all the way across town. He wants to hate the skunk-haired boy Zack asked to prom, but the problem is that Jack is actually a nice person. Jack is funny and smart and handsome. Alex is none of these things; he’s a little awkward, his hair sticks up in every direction no matter what he does to tame it, and he’s selectively mute. It’s not hard to understand why Zack would ask Jack instead of Alex.
His stomach twists uncomfortably as he watches the car pull into the Merricks’ driveway. Jack gets out of the car first and walks around to open the passenger side door for Zack. They’re smiling at each other, laugh, and Alex feels a pang of jealousy. He has no rational reason to hate Jack. It’s ridiculous; he should not be waiting up for his best friend to come home from a stupid school dance. From his bedroom window, he can see the entire driveway as well as the front porch. He watches unhappily as they embrace, talking and giggling awkwardly before Jack leans in and kisses Zack. It’s one of those high school romance movie kisses, the ones where the guy touches the girl’s face and pets her hair and looks into her eyes for a long time afterward.
Alex would really like to punch Jack Barakat out for kissing Zack. He can feel the rage building up inside his chest like steam. ‘Stop,’ he wants to shout. He wants to run over there in a totally cliché eighties-movie way, shove Jack out of the way and declare his undying love to Zack. He wants to throw his arms around Zack’s neck and kiss him so hard he forgets that Jack even exists. But of course, it’s not going to happen because Alex is a coward. He is powerless to do anything but sit with his forehead pressed against his bedroom window, watching the love of his life kiss this other boy. And in his typical bitter, cynical way, he thinks about the fact that Jack has a weird nose and that his limbs are too long for the rest of his body. He’s an awkward, gangly thing. Why is Zack attracted to him?
“Stop,” he says, and it surprises him when it comes out. His voice is a horrible, rasping sound. It’s embarrassing. “I love you,” he whispers, pressing his palm flat against the glass. The tears keep coming until Jack’s car creeps out of the driveway, headlights off, and Zack is safely inside his house. Alex watches for his bedroom light to go out before crawling into bed, where he pulls the covers up over his head and he cries some more.
He is a terrible friend for feeling this way. Zack has found someone who makes him happy, so he should be happy too. But he isn’t; it feels like someone has ripped his heart out and thrown it carelessly into the street so it can be run over again and again by passing cars. The next day, when Zack comes over to tell him all about he, he pretends to be excited. He nods in all the right places, writes down a few stupid jokes, and tries to keep his eyes wide and bright. On the inside, he feels like dying. He can’t stand it. He can’t stop thinking about seeing Zack – his Zack – kissing someone else.
“So what did you do last night?” Zack asks him.
He shrugs, rolls his eyes. ‘The usual stuff,’ he writes. ‘You know, watched some T.V., took a shower, jerked off to some pictures of your beautiful face...’ Zack laughs and gives him a little shove. He pretends to pout, but he is actually glad that he’s doing a better job at pretending to feel normal than he’d thought he would. Finally, he works up the courage to ask the question he’s been dying to ask all day. ‘So... Do you think you’ll go out with Jack again?’
Zack bursts out laughing. “Oh God,” he says. “Jack’s really not my type. He’s a good friend, but I don’t think I would want to date him. Besides, I’m kind of interested in someone else.”
Alex wants to ask, ‘Why did you let him kiss you then?’ but doesn’t. That would make him sound incredibly clingy, not to mention more than a little creepy. He can’t help wondering who Zack is interested in, though. They don’t hang out with anyone other than each other, and occasionally Jack and his friends that go to Dulaney. It’s going to bother him until he figures it out. He writes, ‘Stay away from my dad, bro. That’s creepy as shit.’ They both laugh, and pretty soon junior prom is all but forgotten. Alex is incredibly relieved. He doesn’t know what he would do if Zack actually started dating someone. It would consume him with jealousy, and he wouldn’t be able to deal with it.
*
They’ve been delegated back to the mouldy-smelling couch in the basement by Zack’s parents. Alex doesn’t know why they bother anymore; the concrete walls still don’t mask the sounds of their arguments and they never have. He snuggles into his boyfriend’s chest, wondering if it would be inappropriate to make out while Zack’s parents are still home or not. Zack’s working on pushing his already-too-small shirt up, and so far he has pretended not to notice. It’s working – Zack’s hand runs up and down his side insistently, so he sighs, sitting up to pull the shirt over his head and discard it on the floor. “Are you happy now?” he mutters, still acting like he’s annoyed with his boyfriend for being a pervert. Secretly, he’s really enjoying it and is hoping for more of the same in the very near future.
“Very,” says Zack, pulling Alex into his lap. “You were wearing too many clothes before.”
Alex sticks his tongue out, fully aware that this is only going to add to his boyfriend’s sexual frustration. His efforts are rewarded by Zack’s arms wrapping around his waist, bringing their bodies closer together. “Hmmm,” he sighs. “Shirtless boyfriend. I like this.” He squeezes Zack’s bicep before leaning up to capture his lips in a soft kiss, running his hands over Zack’s chest. The way Zack kisses makes him feel like he’s melting; their tongues and teeth and lips move together and it’s amazing.
Upstairs, a door slams, but they both ignore it. Alex moans quietly as Zack’s mouth moves along his neck, pausing briefly to suck at his pulse point before continuing to kiss along his jaw. He tries his hardest not to do anything embarrassing, but this feels like nothing he’s ever experienced before. Zack murmurs, “God, you’re beautiful,” and that’s enough to make him blush instantly. He wants to reply with something like, ‘Have you seen yourself lately?’ but he doesn’t trust himself to say anything at the moment. When Zack’s teeth graze his skin, he whimpers, digging his fingernails into Zack’s arm.
“Uh,” he moans, raking his nails across Zack’s stomach. He knows he’s going to have an epic hickey after this. That doesn’t mean he cares; not when his boyfriend’s gorgeous mouth is all over his skin, leaving kisses and little nips and bites everywhere. “Zaaaaack,” he whines. “Stop being a fuckin’ t-tease.”
“Who’s teasing?” Zack murmurs, biting hot and hard at his collarbone. His teeth clamp down, leaving a dark purple mark on the sensitive skin. “Mine,” he says possessively. Alex has to admit that this newly-found possessive streak is kind of hot... Zack straddles his hips, pushing him back onto the couch and kissing him hungrily. He can feel Zack’s erection pressing against his thigh, and that thought alone is enough to add to his own arousal. This is because of him – he’s the one turning his boyfriend on like this, which is amazing but also slightly terrifying. It’s all he can do to keep from bucking his hips up into Zack’s, even though he very much wants to.
Alex can feel his self-control slowly slipping away; what little he had left dissolves as soon as he feels Zack’s lips close around his nipple, sucking at it gently until he’s moaning Zack’s name, breathing hard and whimpering. “Oh God,” he says, more breathily than he had intended. He can’t help it anymore; his hips are rocking against Zack’s and it feels so, so good, and if this is how good it feels before Zack even touches him then he can’t wait for what comes after. It doesn’t even matter that they are on a couch in a basement. They could be doing it on a bed of nails and Alex would still want – would still need – this. “I need you, I need...” His jeans are becoming uncomfortably tight; will it make him look slutty if he reaches between them to undo them? Apparently Zack has been having the same thought, because a moment later they are both fumbling with zippers, buttons, belt buckles. Alex manages to work his jeans down around his thighs.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” Zack moans.
Alex can’t say anything anymore; the movement of their hips is making this delicious type of friction and all he can do is cling to Zack and make incomprehensible noises. He can feel the tension building, and in the rational part of his mind he realizes that it is probably a very bad idea to be dry humping his boyfriend on a couch in his basement, but the other part of his mind really does not care. All it cares about is the fact that he’s really, really close and that he needs to get off. Zack’s hair is beginning to curl; little beads of sweat are running down his neck and that’s what does it for Alex. He grips Zack’s shoulders, sinking his teeth into Zack’s collarbone as he’s practically seeing stars.
Zack looks down at him, kisses his forehead softly and sighs. “Well, that was... uh.” Alex can feel his heartbeat under his fingertips as he wraps his arms around Zack’s neck, pulling him down for another kiss. They kiss lazily, sloppily, both trying to recover from what had turned out to be a very rewarding experience. Zack pulls away and laughs. “I guess you had to make up for three years of not talking somehow, huh? You can’t seem to shut up now. Although... those little noises you make are ridiculously hot.”
Solemnly, Alex reaches up and flicks his boyfriend’s nose. “You’re an asshole,” he mumbles. His face is hot with embarrassment. Zack smiles and kisses him an apology. Yeah, he’ll take that. They don’t need to talk anymore, anyway; years of not being able to has taught Zack how to read his body like a book. And that, he thinks, might come in handy sooner rather than later...