Lonely, Drunk and Beautiful

I wake up in a confused haze, my head throbbing like I’ve been savagely beaten with a jackhammer and then had my skull smashed against a concrete wall. I can hardly open my eyes, because the vague sunlight dribbling through the curtains is making my eyelids burn.
I momentarily wonder what the hell roused me back to this hell, and get an answer to that thought three seconds later when a banshee shrieks my name and throws what feels a lot like a high heel at my face.
I could’ve deflected it, but right now my limbs feel like concrete, and I need the energy just to stay conscious.
When what I’m guessing is the other high heel hits me in the leg, dangerously close to my crotch, I reluctantly open one eye a slit, making out a blur of pink hair and a look of annoyance.
“Hey baby girl.” I groan roughly, my voice sounding like sandpaper against a rock, and she stomps forward.
“Oh hell no, do not baby girl me.” she snaps, and I bite back a half moan, half sob at the pitch of her voice.
“Hold that thought.” I croak, and roll out of the bed, staggering across the room and almost crashing into the wall. I’m still drunk from last night, and drop to my knees in front of the toilet, vomiting a liquid that’s about a three percent whiskey, ninety-seven percent acid.
I moan, resting my head against the bowl.
I’m fucking shaking again.
“You need some water, Jack?” a soft voice asks from the doorway.
I lift my head, squinting in that general direction.
I make out Alex, clutching a cup of water, only wearing my black shirt, his hair messy and a lopsided smirk on his face.
I lift my right hand slightly, and he steps forward, pushing it into my fingers.
I down it, which results in another episode of heaving and vomiting.
I hear Alex running the tap, refilling the glass.
“Drink it slowly.” he says patronisingly, that stupid fucking smirk still on his face.
Sipping the water, I briefly consider slapping the smirk off his face, but he’s damn cute when he’s smug and I just don’t have the energy.
When he leans down, his grin growing, and murmurs 'you owe me twenty dollars’ in my ear, it’s almost enough to make me reconsider.
____________________________________

I make it back into the bedroom without falling over anything, miraculously, to find Ariel sat on the bed, glaring at me.
“What?” I say defensively, and she raises one eyebrow.
“I had to sleep on my own couch last night because you and your boyfriend crashed in my bed.” she says.
God, I can practically hear Alex’s blush.
“If you think about it, this is all Alex’s fault. He got me drunk and then brought me here. He’s the bad influence.” I mutter, biting back a smirk at his outraged spluttering behind me.
Ariel doesn’t respond, staring at me as I lie back down on her deliciously cool pillow, a grin growing on her mouth.
“What?” I sigh.
“You didn’t deny it.” she says slowly, her eyes glittering.
If Alex goes any redder, I think he might actually explode.
“I’m too hungover to deal with you.” I inform her, closing my eyes.
____________________________________

Ariel kicks out out after I have another long nap and we both shower, first supplying me with painkillers, thankfully.
I feel disgusting walking home in yesterday’s clothes, but the rain starts up soon after.
Alex shrieks, and I bite back a laugh, opening my arms and relishing the ice cold droplets leaking through my clothes.
“Jack, it’s freezing!” he moans, and I smirk.
We swapped clothes before leaving the house, so I just take off my jacket and put it over his head, crouching down.
“Get on.” I mutter, and he climbs on my back without a murmur of hesitation. He’s shivering when I stand up, and I start jogging.
We get home a lot faster this way, and I let him back off once we’re at my door.
As I’m fumbling for my keys, a wave of dizzyingly strong nausea hits me, sending black spots into my vision, and I fall forward.
The door cracking against my already bruising head knocks me back into consciousness, if that’s a thing. Blinking myself back into reality, I realise Alex has taken my keys, and he’s holding my arm, keeping me upright.
“What just happened?” he says softly, unlocking the door and pushing me through.
I grimace, kicking off my shoes and climbing the stairs.
I hear him re-lock the door, following me.
“I guess I missed a couple meals.” I mutter, opening my bedroom door and digging into my pocket.
I hand him my wallet.
“Here, order something to eat, and order a lot of it. I’ll get you some spare clothes. Use the card.” I softly command, shutting the door before he can protest.
I listen for a few seconds until he recovers from the shock and pads downstairs, grabbing the first clothes I can find.
____________________________________

When I go back downstairs, Alex is sat cross-legged in the middle of my living room, staring blankly at the phone in his hand.
“Alex?” I say, a little too loudly, tossing the clothes on the couch, and freeze when I see him flinch.
I make my way over to him, dropping to my knees and leaning down. When he doesn’t react, except to bite his lip even harder, I put two fingers under his chin, gently tilting his head up.
His bottom lip is trembling under his teeth, eyebrows dipped upwards, the most painfully miserable look in eyes that are slowly filling with tears.
He’s still clutching the phone.
I gently extract it from his grip, placing it next to me and shifting so I’m sat next to him. He draws his knees to his chest, and I wrap an arm around his shoulders. His head drops into the crook of my neck.
I’m taking deep, slow breaths now, because my stomach is in knots and it’s trying to force more vomit up my throat.
The force of the fight-or-flight reaction is making me dizzy, and it takes all my self control not to throw him off me, take a swing at him, scream, run.
I tighten my arm, and hum under my breath.
“I’m sorry.” he says shakily, and bursts into tears.
I pull him up at that moment, and my hands are really starting to shake now because he’s standing up, he’s crying, and I know I need to hug him, I really need to hug him.
I take a deep breath and do it, and I swear I’m going to collapse because all my energy is focused on fighting the urge to run, on keeping my body language neutral because I know how sensitive he’ll be to that, on fighting this reaction I’m having to touch and hiding it completely from Alex.
He wraps his arms around my waist and presses his head into my shirt, and he’s still crying because I can feel it seeping through my shirt.
And when he tightens his hands so his nails pop through my skin, half-hysterically sobbing ‘Jack, you need to calm down' into my neck, I know I’ve done a shitty job at hiding my fear.
He’s hurting my back, because he’s got his nails right into the skin, and the pain is eating the nausea, and I really think I’m going to collapse now, because what is it with this fucking boy?
When the first bead of blood drips down my back, I can finally hug him, because my head is clearing, the fear is disappearing from my lungs, and I swear to god, if this was anyone else, I would have ripped their throat out. But it’s Alex, and I guess I must be more fucked up than I thought, because when he hurts me, I can finally hug him.
____________________________________

I hand him the clothes when he’s cried himself out, and he’s sat on my couch with red eyes, chewing his lip, but no longer shaking.
I leave the room to order the food, and give him a second to pull the clothes on, but when I go back into the living room, he’s only put the pants on, and he’s really blushing now.
I give him a lazy smirk, watching the red on his cheeks spread, but there’s something about the way he’s awkwardly clutching the shirt to his left side that makes me take a step forward, whipping it out of his hand before he realises what I’m doing.
I shift his arm out of the way, searching his side, even though he’s asked me to stop too many times already, even though he’s grappling for his shirt with desperation on his face.
When I press my finger to the first scar, he freezes up completely, stilling with a look of horror on his face.
I let my fingers run down the ridges in his side, a mixture of purple and white, a few red, and he shivers.
“You did these?” I murmur, and he nods, shakily. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t blinked since I walked into the room.
I don’t say anything, running my fingers upwards again, across the scar tissue.
“You did these?” he mimics, and his hands come to rest on my hipbones.
I stare at him, expressionless.
“What?” I say, carefully, and he hooks his fingers into the waistbands of both my jeans and boxers, pulling me closer. The space is too tight for him to feel anything on my skin, but his fingers are pressed right into my own scars.
I meet his gaze, a challenge melted into golden-brown eyes.
“Let your guard down for once, Jack. What’s the worst that could happen?” he murmurs, softly, sweetly. His eyelids are lowered, and he’s looking up at me through his eyelashes, watching me carefully, biting his lip.
He’s waiting for me to initiate the contact. Clever boy.
He urges me closer, his fingers still in my waistband, hot against my ever-cold skin, and our faces are inches apart now.
“Jack…” he whispers, his breath warm. My hands come to rest on his waist, and I pull him forward, gently, so our lips barely brush.
He opens his mouth to speak, and I tilt my head, pressing our lips together.
Alex’s hands tighten, and he pulls me until our bodies are pressed together, moving his lips against mine, unhooking his hands so he can lock them in my hair.
I groan as he pulls on the strands, kissing him harder, tightening my grip on him.
He’s the one who breaks it, lips kiss-swollen, eyes heavy-lidded, and he grabs my hand, leading me upstairs.
I watch him from under lowered lids as he pushes me down onto the bed, smirking a little at the look in his eyes.
“You’ve seen mine, it’s only fair that I see yours.” he says softly, climbing on top of me and coming to rest on my thighs. His hands are completely steady as he unzips my jeans, and I arch my hips so he can pull them down.
He gives me a dirty smile when he sees that I’m already hard, easing the waistband of my boxers down, and brushes the scars that are on my hips.
His fingertips linger on the thickest ones, barely touching me as he moves lower, adjusting my underwear as he goes.
I curse when he leans his head down, his lips brushing the ridges, going down, and his nails scrabble against my skin as he finally pulls the fucking useless material all the way down to my knees.
His eyes move upwards, one side of his mouth pulling up as I stare at him, a similar expression on my face.
My dick is aching for attention, especially because I can feel the heat radiating from his naked torso, but he isn’t doing anything, he’s just making eye contact with me and grinning at the growing desperation on my face.
I reach down, locking my fingers in his soft hair, and push his head down, bucking my hips at the same time.
I close my eyes, a shudder running through me as his lips hit the head, and I feel him opening his mouth.
A torrent of curses rip through my mouth as his tongue teases the tip, swirling around the head and slowly moving lower.
He sucks in his cheeks when he finally takes me in his mouth, pushing my dick further down, his tongue still swirling. I tighten my fingers, yanking at his scalp, and he hums, deep-throating me at the same time.
I sigh in contentment as his head bobs up and down, his gaze sliding up to meet my eyes.
Alex does something with his tongue, and I nearly yank the hair from his head, trying to control myself.
He slips off, wrapping his hand around my dick and lazily jacking me off, sliding lower to run his tongue across my balls.
He increases in speed, and I hold out for as long as possible, until his swirling tongue and smouldering gaze becomes too much and I come with a shudder, his name ripping through my throat.
When I open my eyes, he’s licking my cum from his fingers, grinning over at me, perched on my legs.
He rolls off me, standing up, and I do the same, grabbing his waist and kissing him again.
He kisses back heatedly, and we stagger backwards, his back crashing into my bedroom wall. I slip my hand down his pants, grabbing hold of his dick, and he groans against my mouth.
His hands move down to unzip his jeans, pulling them down, scrabbling against my hand desperately because I’m not moving.
“Jack, please.” he whines against my lips, and I begin to move, painfully slowly, breaking the kiss to run my tongue across his jaw, kissing my way down his neck.
I begin to suck on his neck, harder and harder until he’s nearly sobbing against my chest.
His fingernails reach under my shirt, and he drags them across my back as hard as he can.
I sink my teeth into the skin where his shoulder meets his neck, biting down as hard as I can, and he moans, my name entangled with it.
I finally increase my speed around his dick, going faster and harder, and Alex squirms against me as I run my tongue across his collarbone.
He comes soon after, all over my hand, his legs shaking. I’m guessing the only thing stopping him from falling onto the floor is me holding him up.
I push one finger past his lips, and he opens his eyes, staring up at me.
“Lick it off.” I murmur quietly, and he obliges, keeping his eyes fixed on mine as he licks it all away.
“Good boy.” I hum, once my fingers are clean. We stare at each other for a few more minutes, breathing heavily. There’s blood dripping down Alex’s chest.
There’s a knock at the front door, and we break apart, Alex biting his lip, me smirking.
“That’s probably the food. Go shower.” I say, and he nods, still too dazed to speak.
I kiss him quickly, and head downstairs.