Destined to Explode

You know when you’re asleep and suddenly in the middle of whatever dream you're having - which sometimes is none at all - you’re falling? Down a cliff or off of a sidewalk followed by some terrifying feeling that you’re going to hit something solid and that’s when you wake up.

I jolt up, breath stuttering as I comb my hand through the hair that had fallen from my ponytail, eyes glancing to the clock to see it’s actually just past 8am and Alex’s curtains were doing a good job of keeping the already bright sun at bay.

Said man is blinking his eyes open when I look over to check if my sudden sitting up had disturbed him - apparently it had.

“You good?”

“Yeah, just that feeling of falling.” I huff, chewing on the inside of my lip as I breath through my nose to calm my beating heart.

“Hmm, hypnic jerk.” He mumbles, flipping over onto his front, arm leaving where it had slipped on my waist to tuck under his pillow with the other.

“What? Did you just call me a jerk?”

He laughs for a few moments, shaking his head as best he can with it shoved into the pillow, “No, they’re called hypnic jerks. I used to get them a lot.”

“Yeah, well, they suck.” I complain, flipping the covers back so I can free my legs, “I’m going for a shower.”

Alex groans as I swing my legs out of the bed so I can stand up, his arm flinging out to grab me, but his hand just skims down my skin until it reaches the top of my panties, fingers hooking onto the elastic and I halt my steps towards the bathroom.

“I swear, Lex, if you let go.” I turn to him slightly so his finger doesn’t dislodge, shooting him a glare as he smirks, his head turned towards me.

“What are ya’ going to do, huh?”

He doesn’t give me chance to reply as he pulls his finger back and then up, letting the material snap back against my skin as he continues to smirk, eyebrow quirking as I just continue to stand and look at him.

“You’re dead.”

I launch myself back onto the bed, Alex laughing as he catches me as best he can and we wrestle playfully until he’s got me pinned under him, one hand holding my arms above my head, the other tickling my sides while I try to squirm out of the way.

“I thought I was the one who was dead? You’re the one who can’t seem to breathe.” Alex laughs as he halts his hand on my waist, “So, I don’t think Rian is home-.”

“Rian is home.” The mentioned boy laughs, opening the door wide, “And these walls are thin, so please, no inappropriate behaviour.”

“When did you become suck a cock block, Dawson?” Alex groans, rolling off me as I snort, standing from the bed this time without any protest from my other half, “See, now she got away!”

“I’m not a dog, Alex.” I mutter as I grab a towel from the pile on top of his dresser, wrapping it around me so I’m not strutting around in my underwear in front of Rian, “I’m actually going for a shower now.”

“Seeing as there’s nothing in for a decent breakfast, how do you feel about going to find a diner?” Alex finally sits up as I halt in the doorway to his en-suite to listen.

Rian and I look at each other and shrug - I could probably last with a bowl of whatever cereal they had but Alex was all about having a good start to the day.

“Meet you out front in half an hour then.” Rian smiles before he’s sweeping out of the room again, closing the door and then proceeding to talk to who I guess must be one of the dogs.

“We should go pick up Jack - That way he’s go no excuse but to start moving stuff today.”

-----

Jack and I manage to move everything else to our names into the small house over the next two days, taking another to shop for everything else we need like a bigger TV (according to Jack, at least) and kitchen necessities.
The fact out parents moved the majority of the stuff we owned while we were away helps greatly, the bigger pieces of furniture already manoeuvred through the small front door and into the house without having to contend with Jack’s smart ideas, like I do when he decided to buy a new recliner chair that is just that little bit too wide to fit whichever we turned it.
 It is a little bit of chore to get everything else into the house and then find a space for it but Jack and I seem to work well together that day, and the other boys do help by being the muscle to the job, our boxes sometimes being just slightly over packed for both our skinny arms.
 There's a fun element too it as well, Jack having hooked up the surround sound as his first task so we have one of my old mix CD’s blaring from the house as we shift furniture, Jack and Alex even treating us to their own rendition of Rollin' by Limp Bizkit when it's played - hand actions and all.

By the third day I'm shattered though, glad that my bed frame was finally assembled again so I can nap in the middle of the day without someone dropping something on my head while I’m laid on the couch or feeling like I'm stealing Alex's bed.
 Jack persists that he needs to paint his room something other than the neutral magnolia colour the rest of the house had been coated in by our parents but I leave him too that, only asking that he picks up little tester pots of colour for me - that was enough to give my room a little feeling of being mine.

Zack is the one to sit with me in the middle of the back porch and help me cut stencils for the little designs I want for my walls, Alex having been sent to sit a few feet away and watch after he'd threatened to cut my hair and then snipped by accident, leaving me with an odd chunk cut out of my bangs - sometimes he's just a little bit too like Jack.

It does take until the end of the week for our house to feel complete, for it to feel and look like a home and not an empty shell. Jack and I live around each other perfectly fine, cooking dinner in turn, the same with washing dishes until the machine is hooked up and on the Saturday, it's party time.