inwaves

[tomboiwrites]

teganwtf‌

There was no fight left in Tegan. He could blame it on his current sobriety all he wanted. But the truth was, he was just weak anytime Charlie was around. His whole body going soft to the touch of his embrace. And when his hands found his back, sliding it’s way up his tattered jacket, he just broke down. The tears spilled down his flushed cheeks and he pulled himself up for one more kiss, taking in his scent, the height difference, just everything there was to admire about the boy in front of him.

“Thanks.” He muttered against his lips before once again falling back down, burying his face in his chest right away. “But how can you forgive me ?? You were sober…You were doing so well and I fucked it all up. I always fuck everything up.” His words swelled more and more. Tegan still not used to the way his body, stripped of it’s chemicals, reacted to an influx of emotion. He pulled on the hem of his shirt, taking the opportunity to look up at him through clouded eyes. Still beautiful. Of Course. “Can we - Can we go somewhere…” He licked at his bottom lip, hating the way it was quivering under his words. “Just to talk.”

“Tegan, you didn’t stuff them down my throat. You can’t take responsibility for my bad decisions,” he says, though it’s muffled through the sound of the club behind them. He can feel himself overwhelmed with emotion, his entire body wanting nothing but closeness with Tegan. Something, it seemed, would never fade. He nods at his question, then takes his hand in his, leading him through the crowd and walking down the street to his apartment. It was the penthouse, of course it was, nothing but the best from his parents. When they walked, when they were in the elevator, when they were in the apartment itself, Charlie couldn’t help but look at Tegan the entire time. Part of him not fully believing that he was really there, that he had come back to him. He led him to the couch in the livingroom, which overlooked a giant window overlooking the skyline, and sat down there with him. He didn’t let go of his hand, his body as close to Tegan as it could get without it being uncomfortable. “Okay,” he said, his voice low. “Let’s talk.” 

[tomboiwrites]

teganwtf‌:

Actually seeing him. Feeling him move closer to him, Tegan was nearly overwhelmed with ease. It wasn’t some fever dream. It was the one person he could ever imagine loving standing right there in front of him. Then kissing him. It was like instinct. The way he melted into to the touch and pushed his body up against his frame.  He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, not wanting him to pull away - even to breathe. He needed to feel him, as much of him as he could in this very public setting. He missed the warmth of his skin, the gentle nature of his lips moving against his. It felt like complete safety. The sense alone causing Tegan’s eyes to well up.

After reading the poetry that was the note left on his pillow, Tegan started to feel that maybe he would never be whole, like he wanted. That he wasn’t meant for sobriety. That he wasn’t meant for Charlie. He feared he might never be good enough in his eyes. Even now he was worried that if they had any sort of future past this incredible reunion, Tegan would just find some other way to hurt or disappoint Charlie. He knew, even sober, that he - never in a million years deserved someone as special as him. 

But when he was huddled up in his old, childhood home.  His parents taking turns holding his back while he was sick or rubbing his aching back until he inevitably passed out of exhaustion. He knew that the only way he was going to get through any of this, would be if Charlie was the gleaming light of hope at the end of the tunnel. He dreamed every night about this moment. And it surpassed anything his fevered mind could think up.

After his lungs were begging for air, he let his feet fall flat down to the ground, his smile breaking up the kiss as he pulled back just enough to speak to him. “I’m so sorry.”

There were tears welling up in his eyes, from a promise left unfinished. One that played over and over again in his mind within the last few months. One where he had told Tegan he would never leave him. But he knew, even as he walked out that door, that he had never really left him. That his heart had always been, and would always be with him, where he could do with it as he pleased. His hands explored his body again, remembering every curve, as his palm moved up and down his back, his other hand fixed on his lower stomach, keeping him as close as possible, even when he pulled away. His apology ran down his spine, his cheeks flushed pink with emotion, his eyes filled with gentleness and love. A look only Tegan had ever seen on him. He brought his hand to his cheek, running his thumb along the softness of the skin there, and sighed at the familiar feeling of closeness with him. “I forgive you,” he says, knowing that Tegan didn’t have to say sorry, but recognizing the guilt in his heart anyway. “I forgive you, love,” he says, leaning in to kiss him one more time, as if to close off his words. He presses his forehead to his, intertwining his fingers in his hair as he closed his eyes. “I missed you so much.” 

[tomboiwrites]

jxssequinn‌:

[ 001 ] Andante, Andante

@tomboiwrites

Since the night of Belle’s attempt - Jesse’s whole life had revolved around this hospital. He was discharged from the clinic and left to fend the real world of adulthood on his own. He was still living at home with his mom, working at a vet clinic in between his house and Mount Sinai. He would go, help take care of his second love - animals and then always end his days sitting by Addie’s bedside, reading from the massive stack of books around the room.

His days were somber, the bags under his eyes growing darker and darker with each passing week. The only light at the end of he tunnel was the night nurse, Dakota. She checked in on the pair every night, brining Jesse extra coffee and snacks ( that he wouldn’t eat ). After some time, they started to talk. Get to know one another. Sometimes time would literally escape them. The two talking until the sun rise behind the blinds. Jesse opened up about his eating disorder, about his immense love for Adelaide and how much pain her attempt caused him. She talked about her doctor family and the cruel pressure they put on her to stop nursing and become a “real doctor.”

This went on for months, until one fateful night. Dakota had walked into the room, her shift had just ended, but she had no plans on going home. Instead she pulled up a chair and was forcing Jesse to eat a pudding cup after not eating the whole day. Soon they were going back and forth, talking about some sort of grumpy old man patient down the hall. He - over a long period of time - finally finished his pudding cup. He leaned over to put the cup down and turned back to see Dakota leaning in. He was powerless against her. The way the hospital lighting rounded her face. Her sweet eyes - caused a purely physical reaction, and he met her halfway, the two melting into one another right away.

It all happened so fast. Before they could even think about the fact they were making out in front of Addie’s lifeless body - Dakota was in his lap. They couldn’t avoid it for much longer. They had feelings for one another. They started seeing one another. Running away to make out in the on call room. Jesse sleeping over at Dakota’s place. Just sleeping. Dakota never pushed Jesse to into bed. Despite finding him to be the most beautiful person she’s met - she knew it would take time before he would ever give her what he only gave to one other person before.

It was officially their three month anniversary - when Jesse couldn’t hide behind his dysmorphia anymore. He wanted him and Dakota to be the real thing. He wanted to go all the way with her. But first, he would need to officially break up with Addie. Even though she was in coma, they were still together. He got a bouquet of her favorite flowers; went down to her room. A walk he could now do in his sleep. He sat beside the bed, taking her lifeless hand in his, it feeling slightly warmer than usual. But he carried on nevertheless. 

“Adelaide. Addie. Words can not explain how awful I feel right now. You - sitting here - looking so - so - so dead. It breaks my heart every time. Why did you have to do this ??” The tears began to well up. “I thought I made you happy. I don’t know where I went wrong.” He gathered himself, looking at anywhere in the room but the lifeless body in front of him. “Just know that I love you. - I love you so fucking much. But I can’t keep waiting for you to return to me. I can’t keep hope that you’ll even want me if you wake up.” One last large breath. “I need to find my happiness. And it’s not here. We need to break up.”

How many months had gone by? She heard him talking to her, she knew when he was there, and when he wasn’t, his voice carried in the world she had created for herself in her mind. It was green, quiet, and peaceful, and sometimes she dreamt she was talking to him. Jesse. Sitting in front of her, and he would tell her things about his life, and she would listen with adoration and excitement, surrounded by green a green meadow. It didn’t feel like a dream. Not the dew that gathered on the blades of grass in the morning, not the wind that blew her hair, not the way he touched her cheek, kissed her temple. It never felt like a dream. 

After a while, a villain entered the story. Someone who took him away from her. The only person who had ever loved her, who had cared for her, who had been gentle. Who had waited until she said she was ready, who didn’t know she wasn’t. She listens to them talk, as she sits alone in the middle of her meadow, waiting for him to come back to her. To talk to her. But all she could see was this other person, shrouded in mystery. All she knew was her voice. Sometimes, when things got too personal, when he told her things he had only ever told Addie, she tried to scream out, but she couldn’t. She was trapped in her meadow, skipping on rocks, fishing, returning to her cabin at night. And behind her all she could hear was their voice. 

On the night when she was laying in the grass, when things suddenly got quiet, she heard something else. And then it kept happening, and it never stopped. The only person who ever loved her was being taken away, and there was nothing she could do to end it. She ran over to them, but they disappeared, and then reappeared a bit further away, and so she ran again, and again, and again, calling out to him and begging for him to look at her. To come find her. He was all she had. She never heard anyone else’s voice in her dreams, what would she do when she was alone in the meadow? When she would sit day in and day out, waiting for her Jesse to come back to her? 

Every time she heard their voices, it felt like her heart was breaking all over again, and she cried for the love who would never be hers, and she cried for the life she would never be able to live, and she cried for the pain she had suffered, and all of the people who had left her, and would continue to leave her, when things got too bad. The people who would always find someone better for them than she was. Because why would he choose her, someone as broken and as fragile, when he could have Dakota? A name she had recently learned. Who seemed to care for him in a way Addie couldn’t? Could she be so selfish as to want to keep him? 

His voice on the day, on the last day, the one where her meadow started to fade away, and only dizziness remained in its place, made her wish she could stay there. That she wasn’t coming back to them. At the words break up, she felt the need to fight back, to get up out of bed and tell Dakota all that she couldn’t give him, to ask him why he would leave her, to tell him she loved him more than anything in the world, that Dakota could never give that to him. Not how she could. She thought she moved, but she hadn’t, all she could move was her lips. “No, wait-” she said, sounding mumbled and hoarse. She was thirsty, was the first thought she had. Her breathing started to pick up as she started to panic, her hand clinging to his. “I love you-” her breathing picked up even more, her heart monitors sounding an alarm that had the room swarmed with nurses. She clung even more tightly to his hand. “Don’t-” she held on tighter. When her eyes opened, everything was dizzy, and she threw up into a bin the nurse had brought for her. She looked up at Jesse then, with wide, bloodshot eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks as her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself. “Don’t-” she tried to finish her sentence but she couldn’t. Don’t leave me. You’re all I have. She hoped he could see it in her eyes. 

[tomboiwrites]

teganwtf‌:

When Tegan initially woke up - not feeling the always comforting embrace of his boyfriend’s hands firmly holding onto his ass as they slept, the last thing on his mind was that he was essentially being broken up with. Instead turning around in the sheets to find a letter stating he was leaving. Of course it was for good reason. Tegan had this special way to ruin everything he touched. To take all the achievements he was lucky enough to be granted with and just toss them away. Throw it all away to cover up the fact that he is so lonely and insecure underneath it all. 

When it came to his drug use, it was as if he was the best version of himself when he was flying high. Even now, a full month into sobriety - he was still positive that this wasn’t the best he could he be. Not when those dark thoughts still had room to roam around in his head. When he couldn’t help but feel lost with his life. Like without his sport, he had no reason for breathing. But all of those damaging ideals left the moment he thought about snuggling up with Charlie. Getting the chance to be with the only person who made him feel worth a damn. He couldn’t risk to lose him again.

After moving back home, there was a brief trial period between his intervention and detox. He fought with all his power to just cut the pills. Then try drinking - but not getting fully wasted. But none of it worked. Still depressed and torn up over losing Charlie, the one drink rule turned to seven drinks and a bathroom stall hookup real fast. But even going back to his party lifestyle. Free to be the douchebag he was before meeting Charlie, it weighed on him. It wasn’t enough. The sex especially feeling so trivial when it wasn’t with the one he loved. But just like all his other vices, it was really hard to go cold turkey. If he was going to get clean, he needed someone to share his bed to just remind him what if felt like to actually feel alive. So he called up his old drinking buddies - most of them grown up and even sober now. But Tegan was hard to resist. It didn’t take too many texts before he had his old hookup list up and running on his phone again.

But even with his needs met, Tegan still wasn’t satisfied. Not without Charlie. He wasn’t at this club, sipping from a soda to get laid. Well at least not with a stranger. He was here to maybe track down his love. And after a few scans of the room - he saw him. It was if the club turned on some sappy 80′s romance song, and the whole room slowed down as soon he got to see his face again. Fuck, he had forgot what it felt to actually be this close to him. Especially when he moved even closer, Tegan speechless at the beauty of him. It was a very good question. None of this felt real. Tegan sure he had some dreams back home that started just like this. “ In the flesh.” He quipped back, still at a loss for words. All he wanted to do was kiss him. To feel his soft lips one more time. His cheeks flushed at his touch, a hand going up to rest on top of the one of his face. “I - I tracked you down. I needed to see you again. I ne - needed to tell you that i’m clean. For real this time.”

When Charlie left Tegan, it was the hardest decision he had ever made. He didn’t remember a lot of details from those days, but he remembered that morning clearly. The sun coming in through the window, the way it hit Tegan’s back, his scar, casting a shadow on the part of his face that could have possibly been bothered by it. He clung to him like he always did, and Charlie felt warmth in his heart like he always did. But that morning, that morning was different. He felt empty, a shadow of himself. He had given him everything and more, and he was completely sucked dry. So, he got out of bed, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from his notebook, and scribbled a note. 

Tegan, 

I have to be okay again. We have to be okay again. You need help, and so do I, and we can’t get it from each other. I hope our paths meet again when we’re both healthier, when we both don’t feel so empty. I meant when I said I love you, but I can’t keep living like this. I have to go. I love you. Please get well, please call your family. Don’t die on me, love. 

I’ll see you when we’re whole, 

Charlie

He left the note beside him on the bed, kissed his forehead goodbye, and was out of the door in a matter of minutes. He was still high, and he couldn’t remember anything else about how he ended up at the rehab center. Or anything about the early days. 

But now, here he was. And the second he heard his voice, the second he spoke, he knew this wasn’t a dream. Because he had already started to forget what it sounded like. He didn’t let him finish his sentence, his heart about to jump out of his chest, his eyes lit up with what looked like the beginning of tears. He pulled him in to kiss him. One final test to see if this was really happening. And he realized, then, it was, and it only made the kiss deeper, everything around them completely blurring out. 

[tomboiwrites]

teganwtf‌:

[ 001; A False Promise ] 

@tomboiwrites

It had been a little over a month since Tegan had last seen Charlie. A majority of that time, Tegan stuck completely sober. After waking up to nothing but a note pointing out all the flaws in their relationship. The main standout being the addiction that had only been getting worse and more toxic by the day. Tegan didn’t have much of a choice. He had to get clean. If not to prevent himself from overdosing, then to win back the love of his life. Because the more he thought about it. The more he had convinced himself that no one would ever be able to love Tegan like Charlie did. Not when he made a fact to destroy every human quality that surfaced.

It started with a call to his parents. He couldn’t open up about the harsh truth of his addiction over the phone, so he had to buy a ticket and fly back across the pond. He was met there with the single hardest conversation he ever had to sit through. He thought all his fight’s with Charlie were hard. This was eons more difficult. At first Alice, Tegan’s mom, was convinced this was all some sick, twisted joke. A false smile on her features the whole time while she shoved Tegan and continuously told him to knock it off. Once it dawned on her and her husband that Tegan was completely serious, everything seemed to fall apart. There were floods of tears shed. The whole Hilford family clutching to one another - each trying to think of the right way to react to the terrible news. 

After it seemed the taps on their waterlines dried out, the serious topic of action hit. Tegan was adamant about not going to rehab. Still terrified to label himself as someone with that serious of a problem. So Tegan’s parents decided to let his Lanford lease run out and let him detox at home, in the same bedroom he spent all his childhood years. Plenty more tears would come. As he went through withdrawal all alone - huddled up on his bathroom floor and getting sick every other hour. He craved Charlie’s affection more than anything during these days. He needed him in this dire time. Sometimes when he was able to clean himself up to his best ability, he’d text a photo over - a not so subtle hint that he still thought about Charlie every waking minute. A majority of the texts coming after catching a glimpse of the black heart outline on his ass, Charle’s beautiful named penned in the middle. It might of been a drunken mistake to get the ink, but Tegan loved his tattoo. It was all he had of Charlie left.

Once he received his one month chip from not only NA, but AA as well, Tegan knew a couple of butt snaps weren’t enough to prove to Charlie that he was better. That he was finally ready to grow up and stand by his boyfriend’s side. He convinced his parents to let him fly back to America unsupervised. Unsure what rated activities they would get into once they were reunited. He went back to Lanford, only to see a for rent sign at his place. Lost and desperate, he dug down deep, tracked Rafe down and begged for some info on Charlie. This was when he found out Charlie had went to rehab. A terrible sinking feeling filling his stomach at the words. Rafe eventually caved and told him he had moved back to the city.

After hearing the damage he did to Charlie. Tegan was beginning to think that maybe the right thing to do would be to just let Charlie live. He was safer away from Tegan. Safe from the toxic cloud of fucking up that seemed to follow the boy around. But without Charlie, his sobriety was the only thing he had. And after a month, he knew it just wasn’t enough. He didn’t care if it was selfish. He needed to see Charlie again. He had to tell him he was clean. Show him he could be better. At least for the time being - before his brain finds another way to stir the pot of their relationship.

He figured out through a lot of instagram stalking, that Charlie could possibly be at a few clubs around the area Rafe had told him he had moved into. So now three nights in a row, he was getting all dressed up to go to a club. Not to hook up with some stranger. Not to get high and dance topless on the bar like he’d done in the past. But to go just to seek the love of his life and win him back.

Three months. That’s how long it took him to find himself. There was a part of him that would always wonder if he had made the right decision. If leaving Tegan and Lanford behind was what he needed to do to heal. Too much had happened there in the last few months, his heart weighed down by all of the decisions he had made, all of the people he had betrayed. No one more than Rafe and June, who he hated himself for constantly worrying. But that wasn’t the only name at the top of his heart, his entire being still calling out for him whenever he let himself speak. As he sat through rehab, as he detoxed for what felt like the millionth time, it was all he could think about. Tegan. 

He had hurt him so much and so often he didn’t know why he still went back. When thinking back of their first, real, intimate night, the night where he gave him everything, his stomach would turn. His mind spinning as he tried to tell his therapist at the center that no, it wasn’t sexual assault. He had told him to do it multiple times, continued to act like he enjoyed it, even though all he wanted to do was cry. As he talked over the details of their relationship, the more he realized how awful Tegan had been for him. But he didn’t care. When he lied awake in the middle of the night he was all he could think about, when he woke up in the morning clinging to a pillow, when it was time for group and someone who looked slightly like him would walk by. When he showered, when he swam, when he thought of all the places his hands had touched. 

Now that he was out of rehab, a three month chip to his name, it was time to move out of Lanford, back to New York,  and potentially somewhere even further. His final goal was the west coast, remembering his lighter days there when he was younger. But for now, he still had a program to be a part of. They had told him not to go to clubs, not to temp yourself for something as simple as sex. But as much as he needed drugs and alcohol, he needed sex. He needed to not be alone. He would go to club after club, hooking up with boys that reminded him of him. Be it attitude or looks, it didn’t matter. If he could close his eyes and pretend he could reach down and know his name was there, if he heard his voice and thought maybe it would be him, that was enough to risk sobriety for. 

He walked in to the club as he always did, not noticing the eyes noticing him,  going straight to the bar to flirt with the bartender before getting a sparkling water. Just something to hold, not something he would actually drink. It was when he turned around, however, that he saw him.  And Charlie wondered if something had been slipped into his drink, if he was seeing things. He ignored the advances people made when they walked toward him his eyes focused on one person and one person alone, moving through the crowds of people until he finally reached him. He had put his drink down at a table on the way, suddenly not worried about having filled hands. “Tegan?” He asked, looking down at him the way he had always had, reaching his hand up to his cheek to feel the familiar softness of his skin. “Is this real?”

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn bit his lip quite anxiously at the mention of going to Jack’s, still too nervous to take him back there even if his parents wouldn’t be there like he said, but he agreed to it either way. It took a lot for him to trust anyone, not just Jack but in general, but he had to start somewhere. “I’m taller but I’m not that big,” he said with a little frown, taking the next few turns to go to Jack’s instead. Once there, he parked outside and looked to see if there was any kind of movement. Some times it happened that his parents said they wouldn’t be home and they were. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

“Right, that’s true. But also, something tells me your swim trunks aren’t quite my style,” he winked at him before looking out the window again, biting his lip as he saw house after house, his heart picking up at the mere sight of his own. He nodded at his question. “Yes, please,” and got out of the car, starting for the house and opening the door quietly. There was no music on, so his mom wasn’t home, and there was no TV on, so his dad wasn’t home either. He exhaled in relief and started for his room, letting Finn go in first and locking the door behind them. It was much smaller than Finn’s house, and he was only hoping it didn’t turn him off to wanting to be his friend. On the floor, from the night before, there was still a bit of blood from his nose, but he hoped Finn wouldn’t notice. In front of the door were marks from being slid across over and over again. But apart from that, it was a normal teenage boy’s room. Pictures of him and Peter on the walls, his own drawings, drawings he drew with Peter, and some clothes scattered around. He grabbed a makeup wipe and took the rest of the makeup off of his face, then grabbed a pair of shorter yellow swim trunks and turned to Finn with a smile. 

“Ready!” And left his room. Just as he did though, he heard a stir coming from his parents’ room, knowing it to be his dad’s. He shut the door again and turned to Finn, whispering into his ear “dad’s here, gotta use the window,” and almost ran to the window, hearing the familiar sounds of him waking up, “go,” he said to finn, “start the car,” then ran back to his door to unlock it, jumping out of the window behind Finn and running to the passenger seat. “okay! i’m good! go!” 

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn let out a sigh. It made him feel better to know he had some control over the situation, that he want letting jack on his own with this one. In his mind this wasn’t at all the right thing to do. He wanted to talk to his father or Monica or someone in school but this was coming from an outsider. He would never understand what jack was actually going through and for that he was fortunate. He could only offer his support then. He turned to look at him then and smiled. “I was thinking maybe we could swim? You said you wanted to,” he said, starting the car and taking the closest route to his place.

Jack’s eyes brightened, standing up a bit straighter in his seat. “yes. can we stop at my place to get my swim trunks? my mom is working double shift today, and my dad is at work till 6 usually.” he laughs “i think if i wore your swim trunks they would fall off me. you’re too tall.”

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn knew very little about peter. He had left just a couple weeks after his arrival but knew it had been a long relationship with jack. He was angry then, wanted to ask why he hadn’t done anything to help him then but he didn’t feel like he had the right to know much about jack just now. Specially not this kind of very personal things. He clenched his jaw and his fingers around the wheel instead. “Okay,” he finally said. “Can you promise me something, then?” It seemed like a deal. “If you ever feel in danger, you will call me. And I’ll come pick you up. No matter the time or the day, you call me.”

jack looked up at him, his eyes brimming with tears. no one had done that for him before, not even peter. usually he would call peter, and peter would talk him through it, but he had never actually come to pick him up. he nodded, looking up at him as though he was the world. “okay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “it’s a deal.”

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn turned the engine on but just got the AC to start running. He still wasn’t used to the weather of this side of the world. He leaned back on his seat, tapping anxiously on the wheel. He couldn’t feel jack’s eyes on him and so he didn’t look either. He felt his chest and throat tightening when he made it clearer but forced himself to take a deep breath. “Because… I don’t know. The way you said earlier how it’s just been a complicated time… as if you were used to… It’s so easy to lose control that I just- Im scared of you just letting it happen and nobody else knowing. Or that you think you deserve it somehow… I don’t know.” He of course didn’t mention his own fear of loss and grief but there was also that in the back of his head, perhaps the main reason behind the actual fear, but he didn’t want to make it himself or his own selfishness.

“someone else knows,” he said bluntly, taking his seatbelt and attaching it, but not moving his legs off of the seat. “peter knows.” he sighed and turned to look at finn for the first time. “I know you don’t know me well yet, that we’re still learning each other, but i went through a lot of fighting to still be alive right now. and i don’t plan on stopping. so.” he looks ahead of him, “i know i don’t deserve it. but i...that’s just the way my life is right now. i’m gonna turn 18, and im gonna get out of here,” he said this like it was a mantra, like it was something he would tell himself before going to school every day. but he had never said it out loud before. “and i need you to believe that with me. okay?”

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn put the key in the ignition but his question stopped him from turning the engine on. He wasn’t sure what jack was asking about. In his mind he went through what he remembered their conversation was but he couldn’t find a specific thing he’d said. Mostly he remembered their hands together and the look he was giving him, but nothing coming from him. “What do you mean? What did I say?”

He held himself tighter, not looking at Finn as he rested his cheek on the top of his knees, feeling like he wanted to be alone, but also like he needed to be held. Neither of which Finn would give him. That he knew. “’That if you even make it to eighteen.’ why did you say that?”

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn nodded, not knowing if he had made Jack’s day even worse with the way he was acting. He felt overwhelmed, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as they walked back to his car, wishing it wasn’t this hot so he could have the zipper of his hoodie. “Don’t worry. They’re not there. They both teach until five.” Once again, he opened the passenger door for Jack and went around to the driver’s seat.

Jack sat down, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, holding them close to his body as he looked out the window opposite from Finn. “Why’d you say what you did at the lighthouse?” 

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives

Finn felt his breathing go back to normal as soon as Jack wasn’t touching him, but he could see the disappointment in his eyes– he felt it too in one way or another, something he couldn’t really understand much. “I’m not bold in any language,” Finn said in his defence, carefully getting up without looking down at the ground underneath. “It just sounds like it,” he reasoned, not really giving thought to all the different things either could be feeling and figuring out at the same time. “I’m not taking you home,” he said, as they went down the stairs. “Want to go to my house again?”

He ignored the other things he said, knowing them not to be true. If there was anything he knew about Finn, it was how on and off he was about his emotions. One second he looked at him like he was the world, telling him he couldn’t fall asleep because of him, the next he was like this. He shrugged at his words, “i . don’t wanna go home anyway,” then turned around to face him. “I’d love to go to your place. Your parents won’t think it’s weird we’re home early?”

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn felt his heart accelerating, with his free hand pulling the collar of his shirt lower as if it was somehow keeping him from breathing. He was much more of a straightforward person when it came to other people– he never liked it when people tried to flirt with him, if they ever did, and did it so covered in riddles and mystery he never picked up on anything until it was too late. He always thought it would be much more helpful if things just were clear from the very start. Jack was doing exactly that. It was implicit in his words and the tone of his voice, the way his fingers moved up his arms, and even the way he looked at him. And Finn was scared but not in a way that made him want to get away, but he didn’t like not having any sort of control of the situation. “Maybe,” he responded with a nervous chuckle under his breath, keeping his eyes low. “Though in the night time there’s not many colours,” he said, trying to get away from the subject as much as he could. “I think it was the drawing. It was really good.”

He smiled, a slight, exhaled laugh escaping him as he looked down at the water, the way it crashed against the lighthouse. Finn didn’t move away from him, but his words did, which made Jack feel as though what he was doing was unwanted. He lifted up Finn’s hand again and put it on his own lap, instead using his hands to pick at his nails, or to play with the fabric of his skirt. One or the other. “I’m glad you like it.” He said plainly, though there was a warmth in his voice. “You’re bolder in Italian,” He added, the words easing off of his tongue as he looked back up at him again. Jack stood up, holding on to the bar again. “We should go, it’s almost one. The keeper will be here to clean the deck soon.” 

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

It would have been fine by Jamie to go on until Wes was done. Part of him wanted him to– he knew he could get off himself with just this, tasting him and feeling him squirm under a simple swirl of his tongue, but part of him, and a big one this time around, was craving the second half as well. All of a sudden, Jamie felt overwhelmed with a need for closeness he couldn’t explain. He wanted his arms around him, his legs around him, his whole body as tightly as it could be physically possible. He looked up, wondering where Wes’ mind would be, and was happy to know they had a similar thing in mind when he told him to stop and brought him up to him, Jamie’s first instinct being to steal one of those deep kisses he couldn’t shake off for days before he found himself on his back. Breathless, Jamie grinned, looking up at their hands together on each side of his head then back up at him, grateful for his question and how much care and thought he put into making him comfortable. Jamie nodded, biting his lip as if he was agreeing to something naughty. “I do. Yes, please,” he said, lifting up his hips so there could be a point of friction there.

Wes leaned down to kiss him one more time, sighing against his lips as though it had been ages since he felt them. Tasting himself mixed with Jamie in a way he never thought he would want, but now realized there was nothing he would ever want more. He kissed down his neck, and across his chest, staying on his nipple a bit longer, swirling his tongue around it, sucking on it, and leaving a mark beside it for the next day. He got up on to his knees again, and slid off the jockstrap Jamie was wearing, throwing it across the room as he took him in, never getting over just how incredibly beautiful he was. Especially when he looked at him with those eyes, the slight smile, the pink of his lips from previous friction. He leaned down one more time to circle his cock with his tongue, wanting to taste him more before they moved on. He moaned against the feeling of him in his mouth, releasing him with a pop of the mouth before reaching over to grab the lube that was usually kept in the bedside tables in that hotel. Something August always requested. He put some between his two fingers, sliding one in at first slowly, leaning over Jamie and feeling his breath shake against his skin. He stayed there for a while, moving slowly, before sliding in another finger, letting him adjust, then hooking it the way he remembered him liking it and going faster. “Tell me when you want me, baby,” he said against his lips, getting off by the sound of his moans alone. 

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn didn’t have a response for Jack nor a reflex that would make him move his hand, letting Jack take it and placed it on his lap. His eyes moved down too, careful not to let them trail too long down his thighs, but failing the more he thought about it. Before this, the only other person that wasn’t family to ever hold his hand had been Liz, and he had hated every second of it. This was different, awkward, but only because of the newness of it. “I don’t know,” Finn finally said when he realised Jack had asked him a question that required an answer. “First of all, I don’t think I’m ‘nice’– I’m just meek; and second… I think you are very different. And I think everyone is different too. They just try too hard to be the exact same because they think it would be better. I don’t think you think that way.”

“Meek,” he repeated, looking up at him with smiling eyes. “I love that you’re meek. It makes you gentle. That’s one of my favorite things about you.” He didn’t look up from his hand still, fingertips trailing up his wrist, then his forearm, then back down again. “You’re right. I don’t want to be the same.” He sighed, then laced his fingers in with Finn’s, holding on to his hand, keeping it on his lap, and looking out to sea. “I think that’s made me not have a lot of friends, though.” He turned to look at Finn, taken aback by how beautiful he looked in this light. “Did you mean what you said? Were you thinking of me last night? I kept wishing I was with you,” he smiled, “maybe you were just feeling my want to be in your house on your bed looking at all of the colors.”

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn felt his breath falling short the second he captured the change in Jack’s eyes, as if his comment had offended him, which Finn wouldn’t blame him for. They knew each other two days, have seen each other only a handful other times before. He had no right to comment on anything about his life, but Finn found himself caring for him as if he’d known him longer, as if his pain could be his too if Jack wanted to. His words left him cold, himself trying not to look down at the ground, because one thing was looking out at the sea, and a different one was to become aware of the distance between them and death, even more so now that Jack had mentioned it. Finn bit the inside of his cheeks and looked down in shame, the playfulness in Jack’s grin completely missed by him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled before he sat down next to him after a few seconds. “I don’t think I would like to see you trying or getting any close to that,” he said softly, eyes in the horizon. “School wouldn’t be the same without you. Nor this town. Or the world.”

He smiled again, scooting over so their thighs were touching, never afraid of falling off or being too close to the edge. The sea would take care of him, he believed that. “I’m going to hold your hand now,” he said, before reaching over and taking Finn’s hand in his, then placing it on his lap face up,  so he could trace the lines on his palm. “You’re really nice to me, Finn,” he said, not looking up from his hand. “Nicer than anyone has ever been. Why is that?” He looked up at him, his eyes curious, searching for answers. “Why are you like this with me and no one else at school? I can’t be too different from the people I grew up with, right?” 

[tomboiwrites]

ahomegirlslives:

Finn locked his car and followed Jack towards the lighthouse. His brain was too busy, still trying to keep himself quiet about Jack’s bruises, but he knew later on that night, he would have the mental image of Jack’s skirt flowing with the wind, his hair messier than usual. He picked up on details he never thought he would be paying attention to, even if his mind was in a whole different place. He was amused by the familiarity of Jack with the place, looking around as they went up the infinite stairs until the reached the top. Even with his mind being distant, he was not immune to the beauty of the view. He was breathless, had to take a second to recover even as he stared at the endless sea before him until Jack broke their silence again, his words moving something in him that didn’t want him to be as quiet anymore. “That if you even make it to eighteen,” he said clearly referring to his face, his thought much too dark for such a moment making himself dizzy even, but he couldn’t simply ignore something like that.

His words sparked something in him, causing him to look up at him with a look he reserved only for a few people. As though he had seen too much of him. His eyes darkened, his face more serious as he took a few steps toward Finn, resting one arm on the bar, and dangling himself slightly from a bar on the side of the lighthouse. He kept looking at him for a second, not looking away as he inspected Finn’s face, standing closer to him than ever before. If only Finn knew how minimal this was compared to things that had happened in his life, done by other people and by himself. “I’m too stubborn to die,” he said. And it was true. That was what a nurse had told him after his first suicide attempt at 16, when there was no way he should still be alive. “I could jump right off this lighthouse and survive it,” he said, his playful grin returning to his features, looking down at Finn’s lips momentarily before turning around and sitting down on the edge. “But I won’t. I got too much to do.”