“You better not be selling drugs again, Carl.“
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@escapeless
“You better not be selling drugs again, Carl.“
im trash
ariel.
there was something so irrefutably chaotic about kissing slater, no matter if it was a gentle brush or a desperate, bruising lock of their lips. and every time ariel felt like he needed more; he was addicted to a too-tight grip on his hips, those breathless groans, and the hiccup in rhythm of slater’s breathing. he wants to hear more, wants to be the only reason that slater makes those noises. he can feel the grip on his shirt and he arches his back, lips parting, giving slater permission to go further. his own breathing grows heavy as thoughts of what he wants to do work through his brain. he drags his fingers across slater’s shirtless form, finally breaking away far enough to speak. ❛ i— i wanna make you feel good.❜ it’s a rushed exhale against slater’s lips as his fingers brush right above the waistband of slater’s jeans, tentative but so sure at the same time. ❛ can i ??❜
a ragged breath catches in his throat at the way he’s touching him, how it’s making it harder to think, or focus on the fact that he should be stopping him. it’s too bad he can’t find a single reason to when ariel’s the one initiating this, whatever it is. he’s not sure how to react, act on anything but impulse. he’s just taking advantage of the way he parts his lips, deepening the kiss and pushing the fabric of his shirt up, letting his hands run over newly exposed skin with a new sort of desperation. it’s doing nothing to clear the confusion and lust clouding his thoughts, and when ariel draws back he can’t help but feel a little disappointed. he’s waiting for him to tell him they should stop, trying to even out his breathing, soften his grip on him, but when the words leave his lips they’re not at all what he’d prepared himself for. he’s trying to form words, maybe a coherent thought, but ariel’s fingers are teasing and so fucking tempting, he can’t do anything but give into it. ❛ fuck, ariel --- yeah, yeah. ❜
ariel.
slater’s touch leaves behind a trail of heat on his cold fingers and he moves closer, seeking comfort in the heat that’s radiating from his twin. ❛ thank you. ❜ it’s a breath of relief followed by a glance and a genuine smile; he can’t ( or won’t ) let himself be bothered by anything else tonight. he drapes his arm across slater’s stomach, fingers lightly brushing against his side. it had been so long since they had been like this— but, to ariel, it felt as if no time had passed at all. he’ll rest his head against slater’s shoulder, lifting his chin to gaze at him. those three words are on the tip of his tongue again, insides swelling so quickly that he thinks he might bust. but, he won’t say them, doesn’t want to overwhelm slater; there’s really no need to— it’s written in his half-lidded gaze and the small curve of his mouth, the contentment in his expression. he’s right where he wants to be. he revels in the quiet of their bedroom, thankful that the only thing he can focus on is the sound of slater’s breathing. he tangles their legs together, leaning forward to brush his nose against slater’s cheek. ❛ kiss me goodnight, please. ❜
it’s almost scary how insignificant everything else feels when he has ariel this close. once they get to this point it’s so much easier not to think about how fucked up everything is, because he still gets to have him in his arms. kiss him goodnight. those words, so polite, so ariel. his stomach kind of feels like it’s in knots and it’s unfamiliar, undeniably unwelcome, but this is what happens when he lets his guard down. feelings and shit. still, he doesn’t hesitate to kiss him, an easy tilt of his head and their lips meet in a slow slide, despite everything, despite the fact that he lacks the self discipline to stop. leave it at a goodnight kiss, because it’s been too long since he’s had any type of kiss from ariel. he’s not sure how he’s expecting himself to be anything less than weak. it’s a joke. so he’s depending on ariel to stop him, waiting for him to pull away but contradicting digits are still curling into the material of his shirt, matched with a quiet almost-groan.
ariel.
his boots scuff against the floor as he’s lead to their bedroom, fingers tightly wound with slater’s. he has absolutely no intention of doing anything but staying with him, keeping close to the one thing that’s both tearing him apart and keeping him together at the same time. he’s more of a masochist than he wants to believe, but the proof is there. why else would he choose to stay in this literal horror show if he wasn’t ?? there’s the deep stain on the carpet by their bed, relentless in the way it seems to silently taunt him. you did this— and you continue to live in it. but tonight, his chest is heavy with something that isn’t anxiety or panic; his heart beats it’s dull thud as he lets go of slater’s hand to cross over towards the closet. ❛ when i wake up, you’ll still be here.❜ it’s meant to be a statement, perhaps an attempt at convincing himself that slater really is going to try, but he can’t hide the unease in his voice; it’s more of a question that could only wish it was a firm answer. he pulls off his clothes, leaving them in a pile; he needed to do laundry— he would do it tomorrow, maybe. chores were a normal thing and a little bit of normal was exactly what he needed. he grabs one of slater’s shirts and pulls it on before climbing into bed. his tired bones and sore muscles both seem to sigh as skin meets soft sheets. he looks up at slater, lips pulling into a soft smile as he pats the empty spot beside him. he doesn’t mind pretending that everything is okay and that this is just another night; he’d pretend every single day of his life if that meant that things would get better.
he’s starting to feel kind of pathetic, disgustingly infatuated, he couldn’t stop looking at him if he tried. the pang of guilt his words bring is easily forgotten when he’s watching him undress, lips half parted stupidly; he’s wondering if he’ll ever get used to this. he’ll blame ariel, how good he looks in his clothes. it’s almost unholy, all long legs and soft pale skin, the sharp contrast of it against the dark fabric of his metallica t-shirt, torn and over worn. fuck, he just wants to touch him. it’s like his mind’s working in slow motion and it takes him a minute to catch up with everything, because it’s hard to feel anything but incoherent when he starts looking at ariel like that; and he never claimed to be good at this. he’s pulling off his shirt and letting it fall to the ground, every action feels so heavy, cutting through the tension, making it harder to ignore. he opts for leaving on his jeans --- thinks it’s for the best. this is him trying. climbing into bed with ariel; things could definitely be worse. he shifts closer, too close, probably, but they’ve never been good with establishing personal space. he pauses, fingers brushing over ariel’s with almost hesitance. why does he feel like something bad’s going to happen if he touches him for too long? he swallows the thought, takes in a shaky breath before his lips part to speak. ❛ i’ll be here, ❜ it’s an exhale, the words quiet and obviously delayed, but the fact that he’s saying anything at all means something.
foregones
“ oh, hello ? ” lex blinks quickly at the person at the door, confusion masking his face. he didn’t recognise them and was conscious of his bareness all of a sudden. sucking in air through his lips, he clears his throat, “ uh, friend of the roomie or –– ? ”
fuck him for apparently being the only punctual drug dealer in existence. it doesn’t take long to put two and two together, and forming a lie is easy when it’s practically handed to him -- but that doesn’t make this any more convenient. he’s shit at small talk. ❛ right -- yeah, a friend, ❜ he’s not sure how he manages to make the word sound so completely foreign, paired with an easy step forward; he makes a point to look him over. he’s never been shy. ❛ so, where is the roomie ?? ❜
everything feels so heavy around them, between them. he feels like he should be crying or at least showing some kind of emotion; he hates this, feeling like he’s just there, just simply existing while slater strips himself away to pure vulnerability. he’s ready to come down now, ready to be ariel. slater moves closer and ariel’s fingers move up to curl around the hem of his shirt, a habit so instinctual that he doesn’t give it a second thought. his heart swells at the sound of those three little words; they mean so much— too much, almost. he can’t help himself, his arms come up to wind around slater’s neck and he pulls him close, hugging him tightly and pretending like their life wasn’t in pieces around them. he really should be crying now— it’s bothering him, how he can’t seem to shake this nothingness. he pulls back, faces too close but he nods his head anyway. ❛ i love you, too.❜ he leans against slater, could probably fall asleep against him if he tried hard enough. it scares him that this still feels like home, despite everything. ❛ i only love you. ❜
even if he’ll never let himself admit that he wants to be loved, hearing him say those words back gives him some kind of hope. this is as close to happiness as he thinks he’ll get, loving ariel, the fact that it’s mutual. that they’re finally alone, no matter how fucked up everything his, he still gets to be with him at the end of the day, touch him and kiss him if he’ll let him. a sigh falls from his lips, relief, the heavy feeling in his chest gets lighter with the reassurance, the feeling of him so close. he could stay like this forever, probably, his arms around ariel’s waist, the familiar weight of him pressed against his chest; it always made him feel safe. he just wants to fall asleep with him in his arms like he used to, pretend everything is less complicated. ❛ c’mon, ❜ he murmurs, drawing back slightly but not without taking his hand first, because he can’t stand the idea of not being able to touch him for five seconds, apparently. he’s guiding him towards their bedroom wordlessly, feeling a certain tension rising, building. not that it ever goes away. he just wants to sleep with ariel, like, actually sleep for once, he thinks. his intentions aren’t bad --- but are they ever entirely good? ❛ stay with me tonight. ❜
ariel.
❛ i can’t believe you.❜ he knew that slater was a liar, a good one. perhaps this is when true innocence is lost; he’s finally realizing that he can’t blindly trust his twin anymore. the apologies come and they’re the same words, always the same— but they sound different. like he really means them. but ariel’s hopes are down to single threads now; he can’t allow himself to be pulled back into apologies and promises. he’s looking at slater, really looking at the boy in front of him; the way he seems to sag, like something inside of him had been ripped away. ariel wants to stop all of this, wants to go to bed and forget— and maybe wake up happy. but, he can’t just back down like so many times before; it only succeeded in continuing their fucked up cycle. ❛ show me i can trust you. ❜ there’s a finality in his voice, almost as if he’s giving slater an ultimatum. something has to change.
at this point, he’d do or say anything to make this stop. to have things go back to the way they were. it won’t happen. ariel’s words only confirm that, but he already knew he doesn’t trust him -- he has no reason to. ❛ okay, ❜ he agrees, doesn’t think he has any options, not that he has any idea what he’s doing. he’ll still try. for ariel. no matter how vulnerable it makes him, it doesn’t feel like he has a choice. not when it’s only getting harder to ignore how he feels. he always thought it’d get easier. it never does. it’s unfair, everything about it is still wrong, no matter how badly he wants it, wants him. he’s moving closer, the action almost subconscious, he can’t help the way he gravitates towards ariel like he can’t stop the words that fall from his lips, easy, only half intentional. ❛ you know i love you, right? ❜
ariel.
he knows that the words hurt; it’s exactly what they’re supposed to do. but, it still doesn’t feel good. it wasn’t fair that slater could hurt him over and over again and he still feels like shit when he tries to give back just as much. when was it his turn to have the upper hand ?? did he even want it ? shaking fingers tangle in his own hair, tugging in frustration. ❛ no. don’t do that. don’t.❜ slater sounds so wrong; his brother’s weak voice was throwing him off, confusing him. but, hasn’t this all happened before ?? they reach a breaking point where his twin softens and seems to understand that everything was wrong— that it all needed to be fixed. that’s why they had run away, to make things better. but still, they had still went back to their same old routine. ariel just couldn’t let himself believe that things had changed this time. his heart couldn’t allow that. ❛ no, i can’t. i really can’t, slater !! you’re the one that leaves me, remember ??❜
it feels like no matter what happens they always end up back where they started. it’s fucking exhausting, loving someone this much but not knowing how, not doing it properly. there’s more truth to ariel’s words than he’s willing to admit, knows he’s the one that runs away. that doesn’t mean he isn’t scared. he hates this part, the part where he breaks down and softens, hates how it’s written all over his face. he doesn’t want to hurt him. but he does. no matter what he does, he always hurts him. ❛ i’m here now, ❜ he tries, but there isn’t any fight left in him, he doesn’t want to yell anymore. ❛ i’m here and i’m sorry, i’m so fucking sorry, ariel, ❜ how many times is he going to apologize for the same thing before he stops? the words feel empty, no matter how much he means them. ❛ i can’t leave you this time. i wish i could, but i can’t. ❜
ariel.
his legs stop their careless swinging, eyes looking up as his brother advances towards him. his tired bones almost cry at the thought of having to get up. he gives it no thought because there’s words spilling out of him before he has a chance to think. ❛ yeah, kinda.❜ that smile is still on his lips, but there’s no trace of humor anywhere. he stands to his feet, blinking away the dizziness that just won’t leave. ❛ this is all one big, fat joke. you’re a joke. i’m a joke. LIFE is literally one never-ending joke.❜ he’s already shaking his head at slater’s demands, eyes screwing shut because fuck, he is so tired of this. ❛ or you’ll what, slater ? i don’t have to tell you anything. do i ask you what you get up to ?? do i try to keep tabs on you ??❜ he taking a step forward, angry eyes daring slater to do something. he can’t stop himself, used to be better at this whole arguing thing by just avoiding it; but, he’s sick of walking on eggshells and turning a blind eye to everything. he’s sick of being weak. ❛ you know, you’re just like mom. just like her. always trying to tell me what to do and where i can and can’t go. you can’t keep me locked in this apartment !! i’m not some— some toy that you can just keep for yourself. i want a life, too !!❜
every part of him numbs at his words. at the sudden realization that he’s losing him, or maybe he’s already lost him. that’s what this feels like. like he’s gone but he’s right there, standing in front of him, so close. so fucking distant. he’s selfish, he just wants him back, wants him to be good again, to love him the way he used to, to need him again. he’s only met with harsh words, the kind that feel a lot like hatred, like well deserved resentment. ❛ shut up, shut the fuck up, ariel, don’t compare me to her, don’t ever fucking say that, ❜ the words come out rushed, so harsh but it still seems like a plead, still sounds like one in his head. he can’t be like her, can’t accept the fact that he is, that it’s unavoidable. all the things he’s done, the hold he had. past tense. this moment, he earned it. he hates himself for it. he’s weakening, visibly, he can’t hide what ariel does to him. he’s the only person in the world that could hurt him like this and it has everything to do with how he feels about him. there’s this unfamiliar heaviness in his chest, making it hard to speak, no strength behind his voice. ❛ you can’t leave me ---- you can’t. ❜
ariel.
just as expected, slater’s voice eventually cuts through the wool of sleep that had begun to blanket ariel’s senses. a sharp groan leaves him, raspy and irritated; he’s too out of it to try and suppress it. he just wants to sleep. he knows that slater expects an answer— and part of him doesn’t want to give him one. his legs swing back and forth; maybe he’s trying to keep himself awake— or perhaps he’s trying to look as if slater’s angry tone isn’t bothering him. it’s almost annoying the way his twin expects him to answer, to explain every little detail. slater didn’t own him. ❛ out.❜ swing, swing, swing. his lips dare to pull into the smallest of smiles because he knows that he’s doing it all just to get a rise out of slater. he’s too fucked up to realize that this is him at his worst. and, that’s all he’ll give in the way of an explanation. he won’t tell that he couldn’t remember where the night had taken him— but that he did remember those that were with him. he won’t say that there were people who looked at him with hungry eyes, like they wanted him. he’ll never tell about the whispered words in his ear or the brush of fingers against his arm— and how he wanted to be wanted so badly, but wouldn’t let himself be. he’ll blame that on slater, too; the fact that he’d forever be waiting for him. he can’t let it bother him; he won’t. swing, swing, swing.
he laughs, dry and humourless, cold, the kind of laugh that puts you on edge, because it’s reserved for things that couldn’t be more unfunny and it’s so obvious. nothing about this is okay. fuck subtlety, he’s never been one to hold back. sometimes he likes to share the blame. sometimes he needs to. the line between right and wrong is non-existent and this feeling isn’t one he'll get used to. there had been a time he’d do anything to see ariel smile, that delicate curl of familiar pink reading innocence; so painfully pure. now it makes him want to break things. ❛ you think this is a fucking joke? ❜ he’s moving closer, anger blossoming into something ugly, add it to the list of things that won’t end well. ❛ tell me where you were. tell me everything or i swear to fucking god, ariel --- ❜ he doesn’t finish the sentence, can’t, jaw tight, he’s swallowing words that feel like glass. vulnerability never goes down easy. he doesn’t know how to feel anything but weak when he’s not hiding behind anything, too tired to put up a front, too hurt to do anything but hurt.
sure, i sink the boat of love, but that comes later. and yes, i swallow glass, but that comes later. and the part where i push you flush against the wall and every part of your body rubs against the bricks, shut up i’m getting to it.
richard siken