Ignite

Jack, do you want to come back to mine?

Yes

*

Jack felt like he was floating. He knew it was because of how much alcohol he’d drunk the night before, knew that this was his body’s way of preparing him for one hell of a hangover, slowly waking him up in a dizzy swimming state, until slowly but surely he was able to flutter his eyes open.

And immediately he felt like he was going to be sick. His eyes were so bleary, he couldn’t focus properly, couldn’t really see what was in front of him, other than the fact that this was not his bed. He didn’t have dark blue carpet – he had wooden floorboards. So where the fuck was he?

No, thinking was bad. Thinking triggered a headache so strong that he thought he was going to throw up all over again. So he clamped his lips shut, forcing himself to calm down until the nauseous feeling bubbled back below the surface. Taking a slow shaky breath, Jack forced his eyes open again. Yes, this definitely was not his bedroom. Where the fuck was he? He couldn’t move enough yet to be able to see if there was anyone next to him (please no, please please no), so he just swallowed heavily and tried to think.

He remembered drinking those stupid shots with Alex, and then dragging him to dance. He remembered dancing for what seemed like hours, watching everyone else in the bar getting slowly as drunk as he was, including Rian and Zack and their two friends (the Matts?). He remembered his dancing turning into grinding as someone clutched as his hips, lips on his neck. Fuck. He remembered the invite back to whoever’s place it was, and he remembered stumbling out of the bar, barely making it into the taxi cab before locking lips in a messy sloppy make-out. Fuck. And that was it. That was as far as his memory went.

Fuck.

Who had he gone home with? Who the hell had he left that bar with?

Jack felt nauseous again, but he pushed the feeling away, experimentally trying to roll over. This only succeeded in a shooting pain coming from his ass and lower back. Fantastic. So he’d had rough sex with someone who most likely had a big dick. Just great. And…yup, there were the bruises shaped like handprints on his hips. Fuck. He’d really let go last night. Jack rarely let himself get fucked on his hands and knees because of how wild it sent him – and clearly he’d forgotten that in his alcohol-induced haze.

Fuck. He needed to see who he’d slept with. He needed to man-up and find out what he’d done. With a whimper, Jack rolled over, slowly to make sure he wouldn’t throw up. And surely enough there was a body next to him, mostly covered by duvet. With a deep breath and a shaky hand, Jack peeled back the covers so he could see who was lying next to him, only to freeze.

Oh no. Oh fuck no.

Zack.

Jack choked a sob, tears filling his eyes, his hand quickly flying up to his mouth to muffle the sound. No no no! How could he have slipped like this?! How could he have let all his hard work and control go? Fuck!

No, no, this couldn’t be real. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have done this. No. Jack needed to leave.

So with his hand still covering his mouth to muffle the cries of pain and humiliation, Jack quickly shuffled out of Zack’s bed, gathering his clothes as tears trickled down his cheeks. He couldn’t believe how badly he’d fucked up, sleeping with his boss. He was going to lose his job, that was that. He was going to lose his job and his friends and his life. Jack whimpered as he realised he couldn’t find his underwear (fuck, where had it gone?!), but then froze as he heard Zack moving. Sneaking a glance over his shoulder, he saw that Zack had just rolled into the warm space Jack had left, snuggling into the pillow. Fuck. That could’ve been Jack. That could’ve been Jack who Zack was snuggling with. No. He couldn’t afford to think like that. Last night was a mistake. He’d gotten drunk and slutty, and somehow seduced someone who could never want him when he was sober.

And now he had to pay the price.

Fuck it all. Jack just quickly pulled on his jeans and shirt, hurriedly putting his shoes on, glad that he found his phone, wallet and keys still in his pocket. He quickly dried his cheeks, cursing himself for getting in this damn situation in the first place, because seriously what was his life anymore. How had he reduced himself to this? How had everything fallen apart so quickly?

With one last lingering glance over Zack bare frame (only his ass was covered by the duvet now, and that was only a little), Jack snuck out of the room and out of the apartment. It took him two steps into the fresh air before he hunched over and threw up everything that was in his stomach onto the street, clutching onto a nearby lamppost to keep himself upright. Fuck. All he could be thankful for, as his head swam and tears blurred his vision, was that there was no-one around really to judge him.

Luckily, he still had some money on him, so he hailed a cab and tried to pull himself together until he was home. And it worked – until the second he closed his front door. Jack burst into tears, knees failing him to he fell to the floor, his head spinning. How could this be happening to him? How did he deserve this?

He knew who he needed to talk to. He knew who wouldn’t judge him right now. Jack scrabbled his phone and called the only person he could – Alex.

“Hello?”

Fuck, what if Alex was with Rian? What if he’d interrupted them?

“Hello? Jack?”

Jack just whimpered. “Alex, I…”

But he couldn’t stop himself from bursting into tears again.

“Woah, woah, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay? Jack! Answer me!”

“I fucked up, Alex. I really and truly fucked up,”

“Hey, calm down, it’ll be okay. What happened?”

“I-I slept with Zack,”

All Jack got in response was a whoosh of breath.

“I-I mean, I think I did, because I woke up naked in his bed with him next to me and my ass hurt, but I can’t remember anything!”

“Okay, okay, fuck, calm down. You’re okay,”

“No, I’m not! I don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to face him again now and I…”

“Wait, what? Face him? Didn’t you ‘face him’ when you both woke up?”

Jack blushed heavily. Fuck.

“Oh Jack, don’t tell me you did what I think you did?”

Jack swallowed heavily at the judgement in Alex’s voice. No! Alex was meant to support him!

“What was I supposed to do? I slept with my boss when I was drunk! That was the definition of mistake!”

“You’re not meant to sneak out, Jack! Not when he…”

Alex suddenly stopped, as if he was hiding something. What? What?!

“Not when he what, Alex?” Jack demanded.

“Nothing. That was just a really shitty thing to do – to both of you,”

Alex sighed, only making Jack feel worse.

“You shouldn’t have left,”

Alex’s voice was soft and sad, making tears spring up in Jack’s eyes again.

“How was I supposed to face the man I’ve fallen in love with, when I know he’ll never love me back?” Jack said quietly.

“Jack, I…”

“I couldn’t do it, Alex. I couldn’t lie there and pretend that I was going to get all my fantasies to come true. I couldn’t just lie and wait for him to realise I was next to him and kick me out. I couldn’t do that. I had to leave,”

“How do you know he would’ve kicked you out?”

Jack choked a laugh, more of a sob really, and just shook his head. When he wanted support from Alex, he didn’t realise it was going to hurt just as much as the judging.

Eventually, Alex sighed again.

“What are you going to do?”

“I have the next few days off work, because I’m going home from the 20th to the 26th, to spend Christmas with my parents. I guess I’ll just have to face him when I get back on the 27th,” Jack said softly.

“I wish you’d have stayed there,”

The sadness in Alex’s voice made Jack smile bitterly. Not everything worked out like a fairytale.

“I wish I would’ve been able to, but this is my reality. I fucked up and I only have a few days to wallow in self-pity before dealing with it,” Jack mumbled.

“Oh Jack,”

Jack choked again, this time a real sob. He hated this. He hated everything his life had become. But it was his own fault, and he couldn’t wallow just yet.

“I need to go – I haven’t finished packing yet,” Jack sniffed.

“Yeah, alright. Take care of yourself, okay? And call me, any time you need to,”

“I’ll try. And thank you. Have a good Christmas, Alex,”

Jack sniffed again as Alex wished him the same, before ending the call, letting his phone drop next to him. He needed to shower, then make some coffee, and then pack his bags, like he’d told Alex. He had intended to hang around New York for the rest of the day, leaving for home tonight, but he knew there were earlier greyhound buses he could take. And there was no way he wanted to stay a minute longer than he had to in this city. Not now he’d messed up everything with Zack. Not now he’d given into everything he wanted and couldn’t have. He needed to go home, get over him, and regroup. Jack needed to try to pretend last night didn’t happen, at least for the next week. He had to.

It was just better this way.