just friends ; jalex

11

his hands are slick with sweat by the time he reaches jack's front door. unlocked, as usual. today, jack's mother is nowhere to be found, but then again— the driveway was empty. he assumes she's at the store and climbs the stairs.

jack's room looms up at him, the door wide open. jack is sitting solemnly on the bed... not reading, not on his phone, just... sitting. it's almost eerie, as if he's nodded off with his eyes open and his back straight. hah. straight.

"ah... jack?" alex knocks on the open door as he enters, lingering in the door way. entering feels... violating. as if he's going to shatter something delicate by doing so.

slowly, jack turns his head to look at him. his eyes are faintly red, as if he's been crying, but alex knows that's impossible. jack doesn't cry, not ever. "hey, alex."

"you feel like explaining now?" alex asks, suddenly angry. "i can walk out of this room at any point, so you better start now."

the other boy looks down at the ground at this. there's a long, long pause. 

alex worries for a moment that he's said the wrong thing— and of course he has, cause he's alex, he never says the right words— but fuck it, you know? yeah. fuck it, he decides, he's just rolling with whatever bullshit comes out of his mouth. a good policy for life, yeah.

"i'm sorry," jack mumbles. it's bullshitted, half-hearted, a total and honest lie. alex giggles.

oh, yeah. he giggles.

"what?" jack's head shoots up, defensive. "i am."

alex lets his arms swing when he shrugs. he takes a step inside jack's room, feeling the delicateness of the situation shatter. normalcy is regained... he's easy-going and flirty again, pulling his lips up into a smirk. "sure, dude. call of duty?"

there's a strange sheen to jack's eyes, and the boy himself looks utterly bewildered, but of course he accepts. it's jack fucking barakat. call of duty is like oxygen to him.

(not that he's very good at it.)

-

"do you actually like lisa?"

alex rolls over and stares at the ceiling, his arms behind his head. "she's my girlfriend," he says.

from his left comes a frustrated sigh. "lex, s'not what i asked."

of course it isn't. alex is deliberately avoiding answering. he wiggles an arm out and splays it out, running his fingers through jack's hair. it's soft. they're drunk.

both of them, this time, and boy... it makes things easier.

"sure i do," alex responds finally, and he's not lying, per se. sure he likes her— as a friend. but jack doesn't know that.

he just rolls over and looks at alex; really looks at him, eyes deep and full of thoughts, whatever's hidden behind that haze of alcohol and defensiveness, the wall he's built up around himself since last friday. since the first day they ever met.

"okay," jack murmurs, and sits up. whatever vulnerability shined through is gone now, his eyes hardened and glazed. he takes a long sip of whiskey, concealing his inner thoughts further. whatever had been on the tip of his tongue washed away with the whiskey. "i'll believe you."

alex sighs. "jacks, why would i lie to you?"

there's a lot of reasons, and jack could probably name like seven off the top of his head. but he's nice, so he just shrugs and says, "dunno, dude."

there's nothing more that alex wants to do right now than push jack down and kiss, kiss, kiss him again, but he's got some restraint, you know. which is surprising, sure. but he does. i promise.