Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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“well, that’s not what i was expecting to hear today.” addie let out a sigh and leaned back on the couch, mind completely blown. “how long have you been thinking that?”
soren bit his lip, ducking his head a bit in an attempt to hide the blush coloring his cheeks. “oh, um. i don’t know, like a few months maybe. you think i’m a creep, don’t you? i-i’m sorry.”
“let’s just… stop talking about it, okay? it’s a lot easier to forgive and forget than to dwell. it doesn’t matter anymore, cian. it’s done and over with. i’ll get over it,” he couldn’t even look up as he spoke, because cian was right. rian was still bitter, still upset. he still wanted to hit and fight and scream, because he wanted things to work out between them, he wanted to BE with cian. but he couldn’t, and would never really be able to. “just gotta’ suck it up, is all. time for me to stop being such a baby about things.”
“i just -- i can’t stop thinking about it. i’m trying to move on and i’m trying to forgive myself but i can’t. you were the one person i told myself i’d never hurt, and look where we ended up. i don’t know how to stop hating myself for that.” he’s lost sleep over this, spent countless nights staring at his ceiling and wondering what the fuck was wrong with him, why his basic instinct was to push the people he loved the most away when they got too close. “you’re not being a baby, don’t say things like that. i left you and i didn’t even tell you why, you’re allowed to be upset about that.”
Autumn sighed softly, tying the knot in his jacket to keep it from coming undone and revealing the corset underneath. He shrugged a shoulder. “Dunno, not like people give me their real name innit.” he mumbled, glancing between the boy and the hallway, making it apparent he was uncomfortable.
Holden furrows his brow, a quiet “oh” falling from his lips. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments, torn between trying for a polite goodbye and finding something else to say. But instead of saying something intelligent or meaningful, all that comes from his mouth is “do you want um, want a cookie or something? i made some this morning. i was gonna give them to a neighbor but you can have one, if you want, i mean.” He shrugs, ducking his head to hide the fact that he’s blushing. “You can just go, if I’m making you uneasy. I’m sure you’re -- busy.”
Roman curled up in on himself further when Milo saw through him. “I’m sorry.” He whimpered, feeling bad that he had lied to the one person most precious to him in the world. He shook his head, not wanting to tell him. “You’ll get upset.” He mumbled, squeezing Milos hand back and keeping it close to his chest as if Milo would disappear if he didn’t. “I don’t like when you’re upset…” He said, looking down at their clasped hands.
“It’s okay, nothing to apologize for.” If Milo was worried before, he’s extremely worried now. He wraps his other arm around the boy’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “I might get upset, but I won’t be angry, okay? I won’t yell or anything, I promise.” He says, voice quiet. He already has an idea of what it might be that Roman is so scared to tell him and he’s praying that he’s wrong -- anything but that. “I don’t like when you’re upset either, babe. That’s why I need you to tell me, so I can help.”
luke knew this day would come, the day that emerson would find out he only started dated him because his father failed him and made him miss a good chunk of lacrosse games because it put him on academic probation. but he thought his “boyfriend” would find out when luke decided to put the plan in action (where he would break his heart), and not on his own terms. he couldn’t believe his friends had been so DUMB, especially since he told them not to tell anyone. now he had to explain what his original plan was, the one he wasn’t even going to go through with anymore because he actually had f e l l for the boy over the course of two months. “fuck, you’re gonna hate me.” he let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing his temples not knowing how he was going to explain. he decided there was no use in lying to him because it would just make the already bad situation worse, “just…come in.” he said ushering the boy inside, sitting him down on the couch and pacing in front of him because he was too nervous to sit down, “it’s….it’s true. but hear me out, okay?? i actually do like you. i like you A LOT.”
emerson had been suspicious at first when luke started paying attention to him -- boys like him never so much as spoke to emerson unless it was to make fun of him. but luke was nice to him, and maybe emerson was naive but he fell for it. he fell for it and now he just feels sick because he’d really been hoping that he’d deny it, that maybe he’d just misunderstood the conversation. emerson stays silent, letting luke lead him inside and sitting himself on the couch without a word. when the boy starts talking he ducks his head down to his hands, his fingers going to tangle in his own hair, pulling slightly. he wants to leave, to turn his back on luke and never look back. and maybe if he were stronger he would. but instead he just takes a moment to collect himself, ignoring the fact that tears are already building behind his eyes, and then he looks up at the other. “how -- how do you expect me to believe that? you used me. you made me think you liked me, luke. you made me think that someone actually liked me. that someone actually wanted to be with me. do you know how cruel that is? how am i ever supposed to trust you again?”
“bullshit!” he said, shaking his head and throwing his hands up in the air. “i don’t care, you broke up with me for no damn reason. i had just moved into your place and i thought everything was going fine. that maybe i wasn’t the loser from the back of the classroom and that love was a possibility and then you pull this shit. such a dick fucking move.”
cian’s jaw clenched, attempting to blink away the tears that were pooling in his eyes. “alec, stop. it’s not like i don’t feel bad about it, okay? you act like i just left you without even looking back. i feel fucking terrible. i know i’m an asshole, i don’t need you to tell me that i am because i know. it’s not like i wanted to break up with you i just -- i knew it was going to end eventually, and i didn’t want to hurt you anymore than i had to. i’m sorry, i don’t know what else you want me to say.”
felix is rendered speechless.
it’s painfully ironic, really, how a man who has dedicated his life to words and the power they wield, can only manage to look his lover in the eye now and offer not a single thing. he can only lean into weston’s touch, hands pulling the other desperately closer. because that’s what you do when you love someone, right? you touch, and you mesh, and you connect. that’s the only way he knows how to love, the only way he’s been taught. and he weeps then, the wall he’d been trying to keep up just crumbling as his arms wrap around his lover once more, wetness from his eyes soaking through the other’s shirt.
it comes out like a raging storm, and felix is trying to contain all the whimpers, but he can’t. he’s been screaming for years, he thinks, and the only one who had ever stopped to listen was wes. the only person who had ever looked past his exterior and into his heart was here, in his arms, and felix never wanted to let go. he wanted to stay here, in this moment where he could feel the other’s love and how it wrapped around his bones, the ultimate truth of it threatening to crush him in the sweetest way possible. weston, the man who felix would take on the whole entire world for, was begging him to save his own life, and how was felix supposed to say no? how was he supposed to look at him, and refuse him? how?
he couldn’t.
if weston figured he was worth saving, for whatever reason felix might not be aware of, he’d just have to trust him and believe in him, just as weston did for him.
it’s strangely cathartic, the way his chest heaves with years of self-hatred, and his eyes leak with tears he’s been forced to keep hidden. weston loves him. he really, actually loves him in a way felix has never seen before, even between his own parents, and it leaves him no choice but to believe him.
for years felix had walked the earth hoping that tomorrow would bring better things, and one day it brought him wes. wes, who smiled like he’d never felt crippling pain, who laughed like angels do, and looked at felix like he put the damn stars in the sky every single night. one day it brought him wes, a man that held not an ounce of malice in his heart, who was asking felix to just trust him, and who was felix to say no?
he knows these next few weeks will be hell. he knows he’ll probably drive up to where his dealer lives, and sit about a block away, money in his hand as he talks to wes about something mundane like the weather, or their neighbors. he knows that there will be nights where he’ll be absolutely restless, where he’ll cause hell just because he can. nights when he expects wes to say he’s staying with a friend for the night, and nights when felix will feel like doing nothing but crying, wondering why he ever thought trusting wes was a good idea.
but it’ll be worth it, and it’ll be okay. because one day he’ll wake up, and he’ll be fine. he’ll be fine, and wes will smile, and this will all just seem like a distant nightmare. it’ll be okay. it will.
it’s a long time before felix’s break begins to settle down, before the sobs that wrecked his chest turn into nothing but hiccups and sniffles. he takes a moment to breathe, hands easing up on the death grip they’d had on wes’ shirt prior, and notices that his shoulder is wet. he makes a mental note to apologize later on.
“okay. you’re right. there’s, um. can you please just — it’s under the mattress, on my side. can you dump it for me? please. i don’t think i can look at it right now.”
wes had spent the majority of his life surrounded by people. his house was usually suffocating, consistently sharing rooms and never complaining about it; because if they were here sharing a room with wes they certainly had bigger problems to deal with and didn’t need some scrawny little brat complaining about them stealing his clothes.
the point is, wes became accustomed to the feeling of being alone in a crowded room from a young age. of course he had friends, people that would hold a conversation with him and who would definitely call him in the middle of the night when they needed help because -- ‘oh weston, you’re just so good at talking to people’. but when it was him who needed help, when it was him who needed someone to pour his heart out to, he was left with nothing but an old moleskin journal and a felt tip pen. the feeling of being lonely without actually being alone might be worse than actually being alone, and that was a deep ache that settled into his bones when he was a child and didn’t dissipate until a certain uncharacteristically sunny day in march when he’d first laid eyes on felix.
felix. tall, lanky, gorgeous felix who smelled like sunshine and home and made flames lick up weston’s spine every time they kissed. he hadn’t felt alone since they’d met. it was like finding that last piece to the puzzle, the one you need to be able to see the whole picture, and it takes forever but when you finally find it you put the whole thing together and its fucking beautiful. and maybe it’s cheesy and maybe wes is a tacky romantic idiot but he always feels like felix is with him somehow. even when he’s not there, when wes is sitting in the middle of a boring lecture he’s thinking about some funny story felix had told him the night before, or when he’s in the grocery store trying to remember if felix likes pulp in his orange juice or not. it’s always felixfelixfelix, and wes has never been so grateful for anyone in his whole entire life.
he’s holding the boy so tight that it’s actually making his muscles ache, but he doesn’t dare pull back. he just holds him, rubbing a hand up and down his spine and occasionally murmuring words of affection in his ear. he’s still crying himself, a mixture of sadness for felix and anger that felix has to go through this and then hope. hope not only for the both of them, but for felix too. that for when this is all said and done and felix is better and they’re okay and all they fight about is mundane normal couple things like who ate all the cereal, that felix will be able to move past this and be happy with the person he is.
wes can’t think of anything better than a happy felix, after all.
he still has an impossibly tight grip on the boy when his tears finally seem to subside a little. wes had managed to get his own tears under control a few minutes earlier, but he feels the familiar ache in his jaw again when felix finally speaks, and god. he’s so proud that he feels like his chest could literally burst, and he kind of wants to scream and sing and dance all at the same time because this is good, this is so good.
but instead, he decides on simply nodding his head, pulling back so he can look into the boy’s eyes. “of course i can, of course. i’ll be right back, then.” he takes a moment to press a kiss to his forehead before he’s getting up, letting a few tears of his own fall once he’s in the bedroom and out of view. he reaches around under the mattress for a moment before his fingers find the baggie, pulling it out and marching it to the bathroom, where he promptly dumps the contents into the toilet and flushes it. he watches it go down, resisting the urge to yell out a slightly triumphant curse. because felix is still shaking on his sofa and this definitely isn’t the end -- it’s only the beginning, really.
he heads back out towards the living room, quickly pouring himself and felix glasses of water before returning to his boy, placing the cups on the table and returning to his position next to him. “it’s gone, baby.” he’s reaching a hand up to rest on the boy’s cheek, ridding some of the moisture from his skin. “i’m so proud of you, felix. i love you, so much. this is all going to be so worth it, i promise you.”
rian hoped cian would’ve walked away without another word, maybe a short goodbye. but of course, that would’ve been too simple. now he stood, tensed up at the word sorry. he blinked back an oncoming wave of tears, looking over his shoulder in an attempt to keep cian from seeing what he was really feeling. “you have n-nothing to be sorry for, ci. really. not like you murdered my dog or spraypainted on my grandmother’s grave or anything.”
cian shook his head, resisting the urge to let out a bitter laugh because they both know the truth. they both know that all of this was cian’s fault, and he can tell that rian’s more upset about it than he’s trying to let on. “c’mon, rian. i have a lot to be sorry for, and we both know it. none of this would have happened if i wasn’t such a fucking coward.” he brings a hand up to press against his eyes, furiously blinking in an attempt to get rid of the tears building in his eyes before they could overflow.
i want a cute lil angel princess sugar plum fairy meets neighbourhood bad boy who spends 99% of his time being bitter n angry whilst partying and wrecking things that aren’t his to wreck n they meet at her first ever house party that was supposed to be a small gathering for her 17th/18th or wHatever n it ends up getting crashed by him and his arrogant asshole friends but he sees her drunk and crying in the bathroom because shes scared her parents will flip out over the state her house is in n he usually doesnt care but oh my god she’s so cute and she doesn’t deserve this so he kicks everyone out and offers to stay and help clean up but then he drunkenly crashes in her bed with her n maybe somethin happens or maybe not but somethin defintiely happens down the line cuz he put his bad boy rep on the line by breaking off a super cool party for the crying damsel in distress au
Autumn had been wandering around the city for what felt like a long time trying to find this dang apartment block. Whenever the people from the poorer end of town called him he got very spiteful, it was horrible to travel there. He was used to fancy hotel rooms and more sophisticated customers. But a poor mans money was just as good as the next. He wasn’t expecting what met him when he had knocked. He automatically pulled his coat further around his skimpy dressed frame, eyes narrowing. “Um… Wrong door?”
Holden resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow at the scantily clad boy, instead keeping his eyes focused on his face. He’s quiet for a moment, before he realizes he’s just gawking like an idiot and clears his throat before he speaks. “Oh. That makes sense, okay.” He isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed, maybe somewhere in between. “Um. Who were you looking for? I know most of the people in the complex, so.” He trails off, attempting a polite smile.
alec looked at the male stoically, shaking his head. he almost found himself laughing at the situation. “how about you just freaking keep it? i hope it reminds you of the heart that you broke into two thousand little pieces,” he said. “anything else you want?”
cian let his jaw drop slightly, hanging his head at the boy’s words. he deserved it, he knew that. but the idea of alec being heart broken over him makes him feel sick. “alec i didn’t -- i never wanted to hurt you. i’d take it back if i could but i can’t, so. i’m sorry, alright? i’m really, really sorry.”
rian groaned, snatching the sweatshirt from cian. the memories associated with it now, all memories of cian, were a bittersweet reminder of them, of him. he looked down at the fabric now, with almost a disgusted look, as he tossed it on the floor right inside, by the front door. “okay, fine. i’ll throw it out when i get the chance. it’s out of your hands –– so, uh… you can leave now.”
cian looked down immediately when he saw the sweater hit the floor, exhaling a shaky sigh. coming here had been a bad idea -- a fucking terrible idea actually. he wants to snatch it back and take it home with him, but instead he just shoves his hands in his pockets, nodding slowly. “okay. yeah.” he rocks on his heels for a second, biting his lip. “i’m sorry. i know it doesn’t mean anything and i know that after i leave i’ll probably never hear from you again i just. i want you to know that i’m sorry. for everything.”
based on this!!
his stomach’s been in knots since he’d heard the words, fighting the urge to pretend he’d never heard them in the first place. he has to know if it’s true, he has to. which is why he’s currently standing on his boyfriend’s doorstep, anxiously biting at his lip as he waits for them to come to the door. emerson’s quiet for a moment when they finally do open the door, not quite able to meet their eyes. “so, i overheard a few of your friends talking earlier, right? i wasn’t -- i wasn’t eavesdropping, or whatever. i just happened to be passing by but anyway, um. they said something about you and me, and like, my dad. do you know what i’m talking about? i wanted to give you a chance to explain yourself but i just need to know if it’s true. don’t lie to me, please.”
