Different Dimension

There were a few elements of Martin’s personality that he knew weren’t exactly pleasant. He knew that if he didn’t have at least two cups of coffee in the first half hour he was awake, then he would be grouchy and snappy for the rest of the day. He knew that he had the tendency to get lost in his own head, letting his thoughts consume him, and it was a struggle for anyone to bring him out of that. He knew that he got jealous easily, even with stupid little things like sharing Paul with the freshmen on his floor, even though it was his job as an RA. There were a multitude of things Martin knew were bad about him.

Martin didn’t know he was a coward though.

Yes, a coward. He was cowardly avoiding Zack and it made him feel sick every time he thought about it. He’d been ignoring all the calls and texts sent by the younger boy, not having the stomach to explain why he fucking ran that night. He could barely explain it to himself – he couldn’t bear the thought of having to explain it to Zack.

He was avoiding Paul too because he knew Paul would notice something was wrong with Zack and if he saw Martin was off too then he’d put it together and start bitching. And Martin didn’t want to deal with that.

So, yes. He was a coward, and he was ashamed of it.

A week of burying his problems passed, until it was Friday afternoon. Martin was walking back from class, having sat right in the back row so Paul couldn’t sit with him, only to stop in his tracks. Paul was already standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. And Martin didn’t need to turn around to know that John and Kennedy were behind him. His friends were predictable like that.

“Long time no see, Marty. Want to tell me why that is?” Paul said shortly.

Oh good. They were doing this then.

Martin just sighed. “Do I really need to spell it out?”

“I don’t know what you’ve done to upset Zack, but you have got to stop avoiding us. It isn’t healthy. I told you not to fuck things up and you’ve done that without even trying,” Paul scowled.

“Trust me, I wasn’t trying,” Martin muttered.

Paul rolled his eyes. Kennedy just clapped Martin on the shoulder. “John and I are having our usual Halloween party tomorrow night. You’re coming,”

“But…”

“You’re coming,” John interrupted.

Great. Just great.

*

This was a stupid party. A stupid party and a stupid idea and Martin just wanted to punch his stupid friends. Martin hated costume parties at the best of times, and tonight he hated them all the more because Paul had dressed him up as a vampire. Yes, a freaking vampire. Something about Martin sucking all the fun out of life. Hah hah fucking hah. At least he wasn’t wearing make-up other than a bit of eyeliner (Kennedy’s idea) and a line of fake blood coming from his mouth. That would’ve been the cherry on top of the cake.

Martin was standing against the wall at the side of the living room, which had been transformed into a make-shift dance floor, with Kennedy and John, respectively dressed as a blood-spattered doctor and a hippie. Yeah, his friends were awful. He was going to need a lot of alcohol to survive this. As if he was a mind-reader, Paul appeared at his side with a drink for him, Kennedy and John. Martin smiled, taking a long gulp of his beer. Maybe his friends were so awful after all.

There were quite a lot of students here already, filling the room, even though it was only 10pm. Martin hadn’t arrived all that long ago, but he couldn’t help but notice that a lot of people, of both genders, were dressed as cheerleaders. Huh. Did he miss a memo or something?

“Is there a theme?” Martin frowned, waving a hand to indicate the people he meant.

Kennedy snorted, John just laughing.

“The boys and girls on the cheer team wanted to be ‘ironic’ and dress up as themselves,” Kennedy explained, rolling his eyes.

Wow. Just wow.

Martin scanned the room a little more, just to satisfy his curiosity if nothing else, only to see Zack dressed as a pirate; bare chest, open red waistcoat, loose black shorts, cardboard sword at his waist and a bandana in his hair. Zack was here. He was actually here. Martin hadn’t thought…no, Zack was probably over him already, had no reason to be moping. He probably already had another guy wrapped around his finger too. It was what Martin deserved, at the very least.

But fuck, Zack looked fucking edible, especially with that bare sculpted torso, the slight sheen of sweat only adding to the definition, adding to the appeal. And apparently a male cheerleader thought so too, because he came up behind Zack and started grinding on him…and Zack was letting him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Martin growled.

His friends frowned until they realised where he was looking, all of them now watching Zack grinding shamelessly back against the male cheerleader, one hand thrown around the guy's neck, the other hand covering the cheerleader's on Zack's hip. Fuck.

“Wow, that kid looks wasted,” Kennedy frowned.

"That kid is Zack,” Paul sighed.

“Oh wow,” Kennedy said, eyebrows raised.

“Well…what the fuck did you do, Marty?” John frowned.

Fuck. He was too many beers down now to keep his mouth shut. And what was the point when he had to endure this sight?

“I walked him back from the library the other night and we kissed outside his door. It was the most amazing mind-blowing soul-consuming kiss and I ran,” Martin blurted.

“You what?” Paul asked, confused.

Martin fought the urge to growl.

“I left him after kissing him. And I’ve been ignoring him ever since,” Martin grunted, cheeks flushing.

“For fuck’s sake,” Paul muttered.

“What do you want me to say? That I messed up? I know I messed up. I’ve never felt a spark like that and I panicked. I wanted him more than I’ve ever wanted anything and I got scared and I ran. What else do you want me to fucking say?” Martin ranted, unable to stop himself.

Congratulations, Martin. Real smooth.

His friends stayed silent for a few seconds, not making him feel any better. Then again, he couldn’t really feel any worse.

“You’ve fallen for him after only a few dates,” Kennedy said simply, not looking surprised.

Well fuck.

“Yeah, I really think I have,” Martin said miserably.

“Shit, Marty. You really fucked up,” John grimaced.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Martin grumbled.

Paul’s mouth twisted in disappointment.

“Zack’s looked devastated all week, just as miserable as you, so at least it makes sense now. Well, that dancing doesn’t make sense, but still,” Paul shrugged.

“No, it doesn’t,” Martin agreed, “Zack doesn’t like getting drunk enough to do that,”

He really doesn’t. In the few short weeks Martin had spent in his company, he had gotten to know Zack quite well – and he knew that Zack wasn’t a big drinker. At all. So this really didn’t make any sense. Thanks for pointing that out, Paul.

“Sierra,” Kennedy groaned.

“What?” Martin frowned.

“This smells like Sierra’s work. I need to go talk to my cousin,” Kennedy muttered.

As soon as Kennedy left, Martin glared over at Zack and the spandex-clad boy behind him, plotting Zack’s dance partner’s demise in his head as the cheerleader ran his hands over Zack’s chest, Zack’s head leaning back onto his shoulder. Why did that guy deserve to touch that perfect body? Why did Zack want those creepily-hairless arms around him? That guy wasn’t good enough for Zack, not even close.

This wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to watch this. But maybe he deserved it, after leaving Zack the way he did. Maybe this was his punishment for being a coward.

Martin was brought out of his angry thoughts by Paul’s hand touching his shoulder, his best friend smiling sadly at him.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, but just keep an eye on him for the moment, yeah? Don’t go storming in all dramatic, just watch out for him. If you think he’s getting too drunk and someone else is taking advantage, then you can intervene,” Paul said softly.

“I wasn’t…”

“Yeah, you were. I know you, Martin. I know exactly how you are with guys, especially cute ones that catch your attention. And this one has caught you hook, line and sinker,” Paul said, “But Zack was really upset this week, so please try not to upset him more?”

Martin frowned slightly but nodded. He didn’t want to cause a scene. He just wanted Zack to be happy. Happy and safe.

“Good. I’m going to grab us some shots and leave you to your moping,” Paul said simply.

“I’m not…”

But Paul was already gone, John following him, leaving Martin by himself. Okay, so he was moping a little, but who could blame him? He’d take Paul’s suggestion though. If this guy, any guy, even touched Zack inappropriately, he’d rip them limb from limb. He didn’t even know where this urge was coming from. He wasn’t particularly violent and he didn’t particularly enjoy confrontation…but there was something about Zack that just made him go all caveman and beat his chest with his fists while screaming mine mine mine.

Zack was special, and Martin just hoped he hadn’t lost his chance for good.