Teenage Queen [s/a]
Title: Teenage Queen [s/a]
Author: wesaysummerrr
Rating: R
Pairing: Alex Gaskarth/Jack Barakat
POV: Third
Summary: in the scene of Jack’s school prom, there’s someone waiting for him.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these guys in any way. This is utterly fake. Title and cut belong to Aiden - Teenage Queen.
Author Notes: this is just a little something that hit me when I was at college today. I felt creative, so here’s the end product. This actually took me a little longer than anticipated to write, but I really enjoyed it. So here’s just a tasty morsel for you guys ;)
here’s my tumblr
The music pounded in time to the thumping in his chest, bodies swaying and dipping as they danced, the smell of alcohol and perspiration heavy in the air as flashing lights distorted the movement in the room. He weaved through the masses expertly, twisting his lithe body as limbs were thrown haphazardly as students attempted to dance as cheap punch intoxicated their senses and slurred their conversations.
He grimaced, if he wasn’t here for business he would have never even set foot in this place’s direction. It was vile, the stench of unawarrented happiness clogged his throat and nose, seeping into his mind and gnashing his teeth. He hated it. The only remotely positive thing about being here tonight? Was the potential for havoc.
A tainted smile pulled at one of his lips, pulling the skin over the teeth that glowed in the UV lighting. He slid his tongue across his teeth, tasting the thin layer of saliva that kicked in the back of his mouth. His eyes shone in the dim light, picking up on the glimmer of anticipation that flickered in most of the boy’s eyes, and the sparkle of temptation in the girl’s. His lips only drew back more, a soft chuckle tickling his throat. The soft form of a scantily clad girl pressed up against him suddenly, her arms held in the air as she twisted her body down onto him, seeming to think that he was interested. Repulsed, he took a step backward and felt a sneer twist up his features. He extended a hand and grabbed one of her arms, before promptly flinging her out of the way, uncaring of whether she regained her balance or not.
He was only here for one thing tonight.
------
6 Weeks Earlier.
Jack shuffled through the empty corridor, taking the opportunity when no one else would be there to dump his stuff and nip to the toilets. He needed to tweak his hair, it had been driving him crazy ever since he saw the rebellious strand earlier in his lecture, the blackness defying the strength of his hair gel and sticking out. He growled, because really, he was beside himself with something other than the average emotions of an eighteen-year-old boy. There was a nagging suspicion that lodged itself in the back of his mind, tingling in his spine whenever the exchange student was mentioned, or was in his eyesight. He couldn’t count the number of times that he’d lost his train of thought whenever the flawless skinned student walked past him, completely and utterly oblivious to his presence with cold eyes that skimmed anything that didn’t warrant his attention.
There was just something, different, about him. He could put his finger on it, the feeling that he didn’t belong in a college corridor setting his nerves jangling. Slipping into the toilets and wrinkling his nose at the distinct stench of urine as it attacked his nostrils, he frowned as he ran his hand through his hair. It wasn’t co-operating, the same, possessed strand refusing to flatten underneath his palm. He scowled at himself in the large mirror that was smeared with god-knows-what, pulling his black button up shirt down lower to flatten out the creases. He fiddled with his belt, adjusting it so that it sat lower on his lips and was dead centre at the front. Groaning in defeat his hands dropped from trying to amend the situation with his hair and he flung himself from the toilets, taking deep breaths of ‘clean’ air, conscious of the gentle bumping of his bag on his back as he walked.
It was late, the skies had already begun to darken and the street lamps flicked on outside as he pushed aside the double doors that led out into the student car park. Jack lived too close for it to be sensible for him to drive in, when he could stroll along at his own pace along the roads that he’d surely worn a groove into now considering how many times his footsteps traced each other every morning and afternoon.
Hitching his rucksack higher up on his shoulder, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and dipped his head, listening to the steady rhythm of the pounding of his feet on tarmac, conscious of the disappearances.
----
3 Weeks Later
This guy, Alex Gaskarth, was a complete and utter douche. Jack frowned as he wiped the remnants of what had been his lunch from his shirt, the depth of his frown casting his chocolate brown eyes into shadow as venomous words shaped his lips and hissed passed his clenched teeth.
Jack had been sitting down at one of the tables that filled the cafeteria, immersed in conversation with his friends and minding his own business. And then, with no warning or need there was Alex, standing up and shouting something similar to “these are new jeans you fucking asshole!” at the guy that had tripped over his foot and dropped whatever was on the menu into his lap. He’d then proceeded to walk over to the other boy and growl at him, “so how are you going to pay for a new pair, what with your parents not even earning enough to dress their own son properly?”
It had been an accident of course, because no one dared cross this guy, even though he had only been in the college for a couple of weeks, he’d already built up a healthy reputation. More than healthy.
There were rumours, naturally. This thing occurred almost instinctively when someone new turned up and showed signs of not being the stereotypically horny, confused and almost bi-polar student that stepped over the threshold more times than Jack could count. There were mutterings that his parents were millionaires; or that they run some globally known company that sucked the money from the world’s pockets and funded the hair products that styled his frustratingly perfect hair.
But Jack had done nothing to deserve what Alex had done, a glint in his eye the only forewarning that had Jack snatching an empty tray and holding it up to his face, just in time to catch the missile that flew towards him. A solid thump that jolted his arms sounded as something edible hit the tray, emitted a faintly nauseous squelch.
Jack threw the tray away, uncaring of where it landed or who it connected with, focusing only on the tomato redness that stained his blue shirt, and the careful smirk on the face of the boy in front of him
“What, the fuck is wrong with you?” Jack yelled, ignoring the sudden butterflies as Alex’s pitch black eyes flicked up to his own, holding there and burning into his retinas. Jack felt like he was ripping off his skin and exposing his soul to the entire student body, right there, right then. The white’s of his eyes were flecked with almost non existent, tiny blood vessels, exaggerating how his eyes where like two pits of coal in the plains of his angled face. His dark brown hair swept across his brow as he lifted a hand to run it through the strands, black t-shirt riding up ever so and showing off a sliver of printed boxers. Regardless of whether he was a prize dick or not, he knew how to dress.
“Well?” Jack demanded, jabbing his hands in a furious motion toward the large bolognese sauce stain that would only come out after ten washes, which would in turn shrink the actual garment. The guy just had the nerve to give him an even colder look, one eyebrow quirking up a little at the tip, lips sliding over his white teeth in a fake smile.
“You shouldn’t have got in the way then, should you?” Extending a hand forward, he flicked his eyes down to tell Jack that he should take it. But Jack just stood that little straighter and snatched both a tissue and his bag, hitched the bag onto his shoulder, stared into the pitch black eyes that narrowed slightly and turned his back. It was a game, one which he could sense Alex was accustomed to playing. But wasn’t about to be undermined by some freakish new guy.
He could tell that Alex wasn’t used to being challenged or rebuffed, so that was exactly what he would do.
-------
Jack looked on in hopeful bliss, surrounded by pounding music, the smell of the cheap, bright green liquid that might have well been acid from the caustic burning in his throat, and the bustle of people around him, pushing past him and dancing on the floor amongst the lights.
He pulled his tie from around his neck, loosening the knot slightly to make himself more comfortable. His tux was beginning to bring about beads of sweat on his brow, black hair styled to within an inch of its life so that it didn’t appear like he’d just fallen out of bed and rolled here whilst getting changed walking through a conifer bush. That look was undesirable.
Especially when there was only one reason he was here; and that reason came in the form of the 6 foot, slim build, brown haired, smooth talking, black eyed form of Alex Gaskarth. And as a movement away from the rest of the crowd caught his eye, his eyes rested on the suit-adorned body of said pretentious asshole. Who happened to look fucking hot tonight. But that said, he was probably mildly drunk by now, having consumed numerous cups of the cheap, noxious liquid that swam in the large bowl on the table he stood by. He apologised profusely to his liver as he picked up another cup. He was teetering on the edge now, the room swaying ever so as his eyes followed the figure that had caught his attention.
Jack groaned internally, chugging the rest of the toxic coloured liquid that set his eyes smarting and throat alight he chucked the plastic cup down and rolled his eyes and he pushed through the gyrating crowd to follow the figure that disappeared into the brightly-lit toilets. Taking the hand that swiped out and caught him off his ass, he struggled through the crowd until he reached the black door that was still swinging slightly from its last entrant.
Swallowing the abrupt queasiness that attacked his stomach, he took in a breath in and pushed on the door. As he rounded the corner of the commercially tiled, blinding white walls, he flicked his eyes up as he saw a black figure standing at the sinks.
A gasp of horror left his mouth at what they rested on.
------
Ignoring Alex Gaskarth was proving more difficult that Jack had originally thought. He tried to let his eyes follow the figure that walked with a faint swagger, like he knew that people were watching him. Because of course, he did. His mouth was almost fixed into a half smirk and his eyes were cold, calculating. Most guys looked at you with a look that said they wanted sex. Alex looked at you with the kind of expression that said you’d already had sex, and although knew it had been good insisted on just being ‘friends’.
What Jack had noticed though, besides his infuriating tendencies, was how people kept going missing. There were two disappearances now, the students slipping away without a trace. Chloe Saunders had vanished a week ago after a perfectly normal day at college, where Jack had seen her not long before she was declared missing. There was no sign that she’d taken her own life, or actually gone anywhere, everything was as though she’d just been snatched out of thin air, leaving all her possessions as they were. Jack couldn’t get his head round it.
And then now there was Kyle Lemmington. He’d only gone missing three days ago, his hysterical parents sobbing and screaming up to the college that he had just vanished. They’d got a call from him when he was on his way home; but that he’d never arrived. Chills shot up Jack’s spine as he thought about the proximity of these incidents to him, how they were happened at his college, to the people that he’d been familiar with since the first day. In two years, there had never been anything like this happen.
Then he thought of something. These disappearances had only started occurring since Alex Gaskarth had joined the college, with his secrecy and solitude. The eyes that revealed nothing and said all, his facial expression that hinted at a higher knowledge and a condescending attitude that rivalled even the best. But then, there hadn’t just been the two disappearances. Jack shivered a little as he walked through the busy corridor to his next lecture, holding the AS Biology textbook close to his chest to stop it being dislodged by careless elbows. His head was far away, immersed in speculation and confusion, seeing again the scene that no one wanted to see.
Mrs. Wood, the Psychology teacher. She didn’t disappear. In fact, she was found in bright daylight, in a condition that still wrenched his stomach and had him dry gagging as he sat down at a table, dropping his books onto the polished surface. His head swam as the images that had been bothering him for several weeks played out again in his mind’s eye.
The silence that screamed itself hoarse at him as he opened the door that was left ajar; the steady dripping sound of liquid hitting the linoleum flooring; the stench of iron and salt that clogged his nostrils and coated his tongue; and the pale, long dead skin of her legs as she hung from the rafters, wrists slashed and expression fixed into one of unutterable terror.
Jack’s hand had flown to his mouth, wishing that he wasn’t the one that found her. Why did he have to be there, at that time? It could have been anyone that stumbled across her body, or seen the blood stained suicide note that was pinned to the board. But why do it? And why at the college? He didn’t exactly know how someone was feeling when there seemed like there was no other escape, but he couldn’t grasp the need for such exposure.
The nasal voice of the lecturer pierced the nagging thoughts that prodded dread further to the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t help thinking that each of these incidents, they were around him. He had found Mrs. Wood. Chloe Saunders had been an acquaintance from the first day, and Kyle had been his partner in Biology. The persistent thought that this had something to do with him stuck in his throat as his head jerked to stare dumbly at the lecturer, who had just asked him a question.
“What?”
Mr. Friar frowned, nostrils flaring as he took in an outraged breath. “I don’t think you addressed me correctly, Mr. Barakat.”
Jack rolled his eyes and slouched his shoulders, before flicking his eyes back up to stare at Mr. Friar underneath his eyebrows. “Pardon, Mr. Friar?” His voice dripped sarcasm as he threw them at the greying man in front of him. Which earned him a forty-five minute detention for intolerable behaviour.
Intolerable. Yeah, right, he scoffed. Mr. Friar had been itching to shove Jack in detention since they came back from the summer break; it’d only taken the entire year but his already smug attitude was enough to clench Jack’s teeth viciously.
But as he stuffed his books and equipment back into his bag, fuming under his breath at how pathetic this place had become, his head twitched right as a chuckle reached his ears. One that was instantly recognisable. His eyes came to rest on those of Alex Gaskarth, their blackness penetrating. He flashed Jack a half smile as he skirted the tables, the object that his left hand was wrapped around finding itself on Jack’s table, placed there as Alex walked past. The other paused, leaning forward slightly and dropped his eyes to what he’d just given to Jack.
It was an iPod, the white headphones wrapped around the silver device carefully. The black eyes that held Jack’s glinted with hidden laughter, and something else. Jack thought he noticed something different as Alex’s pristine teeth were exposed from behind his lips, easy words slipping from his throat.
“To keep you entertained in that detention of yours.” Jack saw how his jaw moved around the words, the sharp cheekbones catching the fluorescent light that was only found in educational institutes, the kind that did nothing for anyone. And yet somehow Alex managed to look as frustratingly attractive even when placed the circumstances that made Jack look like a listless zombie. He caught the faint aroma of his breath as he patted the table with the palm of his hand and stepped backward, mouth twisting into a self-assured smile.
Jack wrinkled his nose when Alex’s back was turned; he thought he detected a warmer smell underneath the mint freshness of his breath. Something that was sweet and sickening at the same time. One that set his nerves tingling, and his conscience writhing.
-----
2 week later
One week away from the college prom, and Alex’s eyes shifted from side to side apprehensively. No one had blown his cover yet, and the people that had been a threat to him he’d happily dealt with. They’d given him something in return to maintain his sanity, considering the situation that he had put himself into.
Actually, it hadn’t been him that had volunteered to come here. It was only under the orders from his superiors that he’d been thrown into this predicament, with only a brief outline to work with. There had been no forewarning of what things could be like, what Jack could be like, or what he would be presented with when he arrived. Alex had just been dumped into a situation he only knew the vaguest of details about, the tapestry of information noticeably threadbare.
Not that he wasn’t willing to complete it. The prospect of sinking his teeth into some action ignited a fire of excitement in his stomach and dilated his pupils, darkening his already black eyes. To which no one had raised an eyebrow he mused, as someone dumped several pages of paper onto his desk, held together with a staple whilst red pen scribbled something in the corner. Results from the in class test the other day. Alex directed his eyes toward the red marking swiftly, needing no more than a glance to confirm what he already knew. He’d passed. Leaning back into his chair, he contemplated how no one had raised suspicion about him; about his mannerisms, his appearance. Maybe it was expected of teenagers these days to wear contacts that changed the colour of their eyes, or self-assurance came in abundance to a degree that destroyed people, or to be so introvert that they began to turn inside out.
Then his features darkened, knuckles tightening on the edge of the table. He ignored the burning in his throat as anger twisted in his gut. There had been several that had tried to make his life difficult. More difficult than it already was. The girl had simply got too close, had seen something that he thought no one else had, and that had been enough. She was too shifty to take the risk, there was too much riding on him for it to be endangered by a teenage girl that couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
So he made sure it didn’t open again. The pencil that he’d been gripping snapped suddenly, jerking his body in shock and widening his eyes that had been narrowing into slits. Alex ignored the numerous heads that swivelled in his direction at the loud crunch of wood breaking underneath his fingers, instead dropping the fragments onto his desk and directing his attention to the front. At which the surprised expression of the lecturer met his eyes and hurriedly continued with explaining the message behind the piece of writing that they were studying.
And Alex allowed himself to drift off again, not needing to take in any of what was being said. The thoughts that had been briefly suspended flooded his head again, and he felt his mouth set into an unforgiving line. He’d had to do it. There was just no other option that had presented itself to him. She was a liability, dead certain to give something away that could damage him. He couldn’t allow that.
So the police thought it was murder. Well, they hadn’t disclosed that opinion but once you got to know how they think, it was obvious that they suspected more at work here than a simple disappearance. And they would be right. But technically, murder implied that one human had killed another. This time, it was definitely more than the average murder. At that, Alex had to smile.
And the boy? He’d simply been too close to Jack was preferable, considering how Alex needed to worm his way into the boy’s life almost seamlessly. And Kyle’s timetable gave him so much time with Jack, that it was almost instinctive that Alex should take his place. Permanently. But then Alex frowned, but he was sure Jack suspected something. In truth, he couldn’t blame the kid. His Biology partner disappears shortly after Alex himself joins the college. But he couldn’t be allowed to put too many factors together - Alex didn’t doubt that he would, because he was intelligent, for what he was - because Alex really didn’t have the flexibility to rush things or get ahead of himself. Actions had to fall into place to maximise their effects in his favour.
But a soothing thought calmed the disturbed surface of his thoughts. One that filled him with a confidence that tugged his lips up slightly. There was one reason alone why Jack wouldn’t want to think too badly of him, something that he’d noticed almost immediately from his body language and Alex’s experience when it came to analyzing behaviour. Jack was batting for the other team. Alex had seen the grudging, appreciation in his chocolate brown eyes as Alex had walked down the corridor. He’d seen the self-hatred in the same eyes, fighting with himself as suspicion and competitive dislike jostled for first place. But there was also something else that flicked the boy’s eyes up to Alex, and kept them there.
His teeth flashed in the commercial lighting and he twirled a fresh pencil in between his fingers, glancing at the clock to try and hurry time along.
--
2 weeks earlier
It was last thing in the afternoon, and Alex caught the eyes of the reason why he was here in the first place. The chocolate depths hardened as they realised that Alex was walking over to join the person to whom they belonged.
“Barakat,” Alex nodded, seeing the kid’s tall form scrunched into one of the chairs. Jack only narrowed his eyes in response, and Alex could practically see the caution in his expression as Alex slid into a chair opposite him. He had to make sure that his suspicion didn’t reach dangerous levels. Then he would have had to do something about it; and really, he’d rather things just went according to plan.
“What are you doing here?” Jack’s fingers tightened in the fists that they were curled into, resting on the smooth plains of the table as time ticked gently forward. Alex sighed, reassuring himself that there was plenty of time. No need to rush.
Besides, he would never confide it to anyone, but secretly he got some reluctant enjoyment from the other boy’s presence. His eyes raked over how his cheekbones slanted in a way that exaggerated the size of his eyes. Deep down where it shouldn’t exist there was a twisted part of him that wanted to smile as his lips curled upward, and wanted to put that smile there, just so that he knew he was having an effect on Jack.
Snapping out of it, he let his eyes drift toward the slouched figure that shunted away from him. Tilting his head away and resting his fist on his hand to keep it deliberately angled away. Alex heard a gentle sniff, a statement that Jack really didn’t want Alex to be there. But that wasn’t about to change. He had business to do.
“You know, ignoring me isn’t going to make my detention suddenly irrelevant.”
Jack grunted, swivelling his chin on his fist to stare accusingly at Alex. “What makes you think that I’d want to pay you any attention?”
Alex laughed, glancing around to ensure that there were no members of staff. Sometimes, he admired how lax this college could be on punishment, and rules. He cast out his hearing and came to the conclusion that no one was about to check that they’d actually bothered to turn up to this detention. Leaning back over to Jack, he let his eyes burn into chocolate.
“Do you really want to be here right now, or would ditching this pathetic excuse of a detention be so fucking bad?” He tried to discourage the sudden excitement that glinted in his eyes as he allowed a small smile to worm its way into Jack’s fortress of defences, like he knew it would.
And he had to suppress a confused grimace at the warm influx of pride, and something else, when the face in front of his finally softened. Jack rolled his eyes and muttered “fuck it” before standing hastily and slinging his bag over his shoulder. His dark eyes flicked up to Alex’s for a moment, indicating that he didn’t trust the brown-haired boy enough to walk in front of him. The faint smile that tugged one side of Alex’s mouth up was bitter, tainted with an ulterior motive.
“Ladies first,” Jack said, holding out his hand so that Alex stepped in front of him, Jack falling into step behind him, shifting around the tables and glancing around awkwardly. There would be a serious price if they were caught ditching, but he figured what the hell, this was his chance to get to know Alex Gaskarth. To see what he was hiding underneath that condescending attitude.
Alex choked out a laugh, stepping to the side once they were out of the door to force Jack to walk beside him. This wasn’t about suspicion; this was about ensuring that Alex got closer to Jack. And the way things were going, he needed to shift into gear if he was going to achieve that by Prom. Because the annual college prom was something public, excruciatingly cliché. A place where drama unfurled its talons and sunk them into the dark folds of teenage angst.
“What’s the matter, Barakat, don’t you trust me?” He felt his lips twitch upward, tilting his head toward the tall boy walking beside him, staring at his feet. Through the strands of hair that flopped in front of his right eye, he saw the quintessential expression flash across Jack’s face, his eyes narrowing as a humourless smile pulled at his lips, exposing bright white teeth.
“Not as far as I could throw you, Gaskarth.”
Alex scoffed. “How far is that, considering that you’re unnaturally scrawny?” He let one eyebrow quirk upwards, lengthening his stride as temptation glittered in his eyes. Not now. Not today. Swallowing harshly, he sunk further into stereotypical mystery and forced his eyes to drift somewhere else, other than how Jack’s pulse jumped in his throat. It wasn’t helping matters, taking into account that his nostrils were clogged with the scent of humanity.
“I am not that fucking skinny,” he exclaimed, throwing his head down and examining himself, before sighing and bringing his head left to sneer at Alex. “Fine, fuck you. I’m skinny. But that just means that my earlier statement is even more relevant.”
“Why, because you wouldn’t even be able to lift me up?” Alex stated, pushing into the door that stood between them and the outside world, the first signs of rain in the sky as the clouds twisted angrily. Jack answered him before slipping outside.
“Exactly.”
-
Jack didn’t let himself dwell on the fact that he was walking down a darkening street with the one person that could be connected with these disappearances. He felt the paranoid voice in the back of his mind blink awake after a period of ease and see how the boy next to him kept having to glance away and swallow, the façade failing every so often.
And Jack wanted to know who he really was. Because he didn’t act like the ‘normal’ teenager. The way he looked at things with aged eyes, like he’d seen everything before and could be surprised by nothing. Behind the flippant attitude, if he was caught in a moment when he thought no one was looking, he looked tired. There were dark circles underneath his eyes that exaggerated his complexion and hinted at a different side to his calm exterior. Suggesting at a ferocity that most didn’t know, and that would be dangerous to get on the wrong side of.
Jack shivered, convincing himself that Alex was just another hormone fuelled eighteen year old like himself, and no one that should warrant the slight fear that pumped through Jack’s veins. Because he wasn’t even going to try and deny that he was unnerved by the person that walked steadily beside him, keeping up a stream of conversation. His voice was smooth as per usual, only hinting at an underlying strain that Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on.
But whatever it was, Jack bit the bullet, eager to reveal a little more about him.
“Where did you transfer from?”
Alex’s eyes lifted to look at Jack for a brief moment before he directed his attention forward and let words shape his lips. “I came over from England several years ago, because my family wanted the sense of opportunity here and my father had secured a job that we couldn’t say no to. I used to live in New York, but my mother wanted something quieter. So here I am.” He shrugged, lifting the sudden weight in his words. But Jack felt something strange about the tone of his voice, how the sadness sounded practised.
Jack frowned. “You lived in England? What’s it like there?” He was curious as to why the little pimple of land was always speculated about to be something so wonderful. Admittedly, he’d always wanted to go there, just to see. London would be a good experience. Alex’s caustic snort dragged him away from his thoughts.
“People always make out that it’s something extravagant when they live abroad, when the inhabitants can’t seem to grasp why people want to go there. But I loved it.” His tone was suddenly far away, and Jack couldn’t help but feel a little chagrined, as though what Alex was saying was too personal. But then, he had asked. Jack titled his head right, to focus on the expression on the other’s face instead of resorting to staring at his feet, as he did when he was uncomfortable.
Alex continued, his eyes focused on something Jack couldn’t see as the sun bounced off the metallic black. “It’s been the only place I’ve felt at home since I can remember.” But then he seemed to snap out of it, abruptly coming back into their surroundings and realising what he must have sounded like. His features darkened into instinctive ferocity, and closed behind the door that shut out the faint glimmer of vulnerability that had just been about to show itself.
Catching Jack off guard Alex grabbed his left forearm and yanked him to a stop harshly, snarling a little at the other boy. He closed the distance between them in one swift step, the contrast of his black eyes and pale skin startling as the glare of the sun behind his head cast his features into shadow.
“You repeat that to anyone else, and I’ll hunt you down and rip your vocal cords out. Got it?” The anger in his eyes, that flashed dangerously and revealed the instability behind his exterior, it scared Jack. He stumbled backward hastily, swallowing automatically as fear flooded into his mouth. But then something shifted, and Jack felt a flicker of indignation in his chest. Who was this guy, to think that he could stamp authority all over Jack?
“Don’t talk to me like that.” He spat, ripping his arm out of Alex’s tight grasp and staring hard into his blazing eyes. They widened infinitesimally, the briefest of moments where Alex was genuinely shocked at his defiance. But less than a second later they narrowed once more, a malevolent smirk tugging one side of his pale pink lips upward.
“So you think I don’t mean it? That I won’t destroy you if anything about this little ‘meeting’ forms on your lips?” He cocked his head a little, and Jack wished that the sun had more life left before it disappeared. “You think that I’m full of empty words?”
The vicious curl in his lips exposed his white teeth, glistening in the ever-decreasing light of the dying sun. Jack swallowed again, hearing the soft threat in his voice. Despite the fact that he was several inches taller than Alex, he felt like a child again. A child who had been discovered doing something wrong and whose parents where now laying into him.
A slim hand flashed out and grasped his chin between his first finger and thumb, whilst another fastened around his waist to force Jack down to stare into Alex’s eyes. Jack’s breath hitched slightly as the other’s breath washed over his face - catching the same underlying warm, moist scent as he had earlier - there was something about the way the fingers felt on his body that sent warnings into Jack’s head. Where the fingertips connected with his skin, albeit underneath a thin cotton shirt, it felt like sparks of electricity entering his bloodstream, the tiny shocks of pain stabbing into his skin. Leaving him craving more.
“I know your little secret, Barakat.” Alex murmured, letting his eyes drift close partially as he inclined his head into Jack’s jaw line and skimmed the skin there with his nose. Jack shivered a little at the barely audible sigh that reverberated in the other’s throat. It was raw, tainted with need. “And normally, that means that you get to know one of mine.” He pulled back, dropping the hand from Jack’s waist and letting go of his chin. Jack didn’t like the glint that was in his eyes. “Think of it as an exchange.”
Jack snorted. “And what possible secret could you know about me? You’ve been here, what, six weeks? You’re still the new guy.”
“Six weeks is more than enough time to find out everything about someone, whether they’re aware of it or not.” Alex shot back, feeling his hands creep up to shield his eyes from the last rays of the sun, apparently glad that it was finally hidden by the horizon. His shoulders relaxed a little as the sky darkened, as though released from some invisible pressure and discomfort.
“Oh yeah, so what have you ‘gathered’ about me that could possibly give you any fucking leverage?” But his hands curled into fists as something tightened in his chest, the very thing that he had been tormented for during his entire school life flinging itself to the forefront of his mind.
He wouldn’t be able to bear it if Alex bullied him because of it as well. He could practically feel bruises forming on his skin as he stood stock still, daring the other boy in front of him to come out with it, to just get it over with and then beat the shit out of him.
Alex laughed. Yet it wasn’t in anticipation, and neither was it born from humour. “Isn’t it obvious? Or do I have to put my hands on you again to make it any clearer?”
His features were unreadable as Jack stared quivering slightly from the cold, and how vulnerable he felt. Alex’s gaze felt again like he was staring into his soul and picking out all the defects. He swallowed, suddenly realising that Alex wasn’t about to lay into him because he was gay. Unlike everyone else he’d encountered.
“So that makes you think you’ve got control over me? Just because your pot luck guess about my fucking sexuality was right?” Jack let out a sigh and started walking, shaking his head. “Screw you, Gaskarth.”
Alex frowned and snagged his arm again. “Don’t walk away from me.” His voice was dripping in outrage, features hard as Jack whipped round to stare at him.
“What? What the fuck are you going to do about it, knock me unconscious with your wit?” He shrugged his arm out of Alex’s hand again, and paced forward, eager to get home now that the sun had gone down. He didn’t fancy being stranded out in the dark with Alex Gaskarth. There was something about him that set Jack on edge.
Alex was suddenly in front of him, the change of atmosphere only exaggerating his features, washing his skin of colour and enhancing the brown of his hair and the black of his eyes - which glinted in a way that quickened Jack’s breathing. Nerves jangled in his stomach.
“It’s not just my wit that’s razor sharp, Jack-o.” His teeth shone grotesquely in the dim light.
-----
Jack fought down the scream that rose in his throat, along with the punch that he’d thrown into his stomach.
His eyes bulged as they locked onto the figure that was leaning over the white, ceramic sinks, a gruesome smile pulling his lips back as he saw that it was Jack. His eyes burned like coals amongst his even paler skin, purple shadows under his eyes that Jack hadn’t noticed until now giving him a deranged appearance.
There was blood trickling from his mouth. It stained his white teeth and ran in rivulets down his fingers, dripping to the floor in sickening thuds that seemed to slow down time. His brown hair was styled perfectly and not an ounce of anything had touched his tux, which was morbidly flattering. Jack shook his head, groaning at how the room span when he did, the alcohol swimming in his veins. His stomach churned. Focusing again on the black and white figure that took a step toward him, he stepped backwards awkwardly, holding a hand up to cradle his forehead.
“Please, tell me that’s fake.” He muttered, feeling the consequences of drinking his weight in the vile, unashamedly strong punch that must have had acid in it or something. His tongue was thick, heavy and his eyes widened as he felt the alcohol coming back up.
Flinging himself past the figure that stank of blood and expensive cologne, he threw himself at the nearest cubicle, slammed the door and hung over the toilet just in time as he vomited. Groaning as he leant back up, wiping his mouth and tasting bile, he knelt on the tiled floor and let his head drop backwards. His eyes were closed, savouring the meagre flow of air that washed across his clammy face. He felt fucking horrible.
Planting a hand on the paper dispenser he dragged himself to his feet and wiped his face of the beads of perspiration that had collected underneath his eyes, on his forehead and on his lips. Averting his eyes from the basin of the toilet he pulled down the handle and listened to the gushing of water as it was forced down the pipes. And then it all came rushing back, temporarily forgotten in a moment. His eyes widened as he saw again the expression on Alex’s face as he smiled with bloodstained teeth.
Jack brushed himself off and slid back the bolt on the cubicle, having managed to lock it just moments before his stomach emptied itself. He stepped out into the main body of the men’s hesitantly, fearing that Alex would be hiding somewhere behind the cubicle blocks to jump out and rip him apart or something. His own white face stared back at him in the torso length mirrors that lined the sinks, and Jack dropped his eyes to the white ceramics, half-expecting to see red, smeared handprints. But of course, they had been cleared away. A frown wrinkled his forehead, as he stepped carefully over to the bin and not seeing any bloodied tissues there. He smoothed his hand over his face, closing his eyes at the dizziness that made the room spin. He now regretted drinking all that god damn punch.
He hadn’t imagined seeing Alex like that, had he? He’d been right there, covering in blood with wide eyes that looked like he was riding some kind of high. Hadn’t he? Or was it just the twisted images of his imagination that dredged up a life size figure of Alex Gaskarth, acting out what Jack had feared since he first met the guy.
Running a hand through his hair, Jack walked over to the door and pushed it open roughly, features set into an expression of determination. He wanted to find Alex and confront him. But what he saw when as he returned to the dance floor indicated that Alex wasn’t going to be that hard to find.
Gone was the harmless, albeit raunchy, atmosphere that all Proms have as a stereotype. It was darker, the music was louder, the heavier guitars and almost menacing pound of the drums adding to the morbid scene. Girls cried as their dates allowed lust filled eyes to wander over scantily clad girls that flaunted themselves; make up smeared down several faces as twisted ankles begged for ice from snapped heels; split punch stained suits green as fists were thrown in a daze, the cheap, bitter alcohol distorting sensitive minds. Jack stared, seeing two boys fighting in the corner whilst several members of staff tried to peel each away from the other. He stepped backwards to allow a distressed girl run past him, holding the fragments of her dress to her body desperately, silent tears streaming down her face as she ran out of the entrance, heels clacking on the hard flooring.
Casting his vaguely blurry eyes around the crowed room that seemed to swell with misery, he soon found who he was looking for. Alex was standing in a darkened corner, the dim light picking up on some of his features and highlighting them, leaving the rest to the imagination. His cheekbones jutted out as the white light hit them, his hair shone and the hand that rested on his milky white lips was thrown into the light. Leaving his eyes as black as the smile that exposed his teeth.
Jack swallowed and strode towards him, ignoring the notion that he was going to trip, stumble or just do something that made him look like a fucking idiot in front of the one person that he was addicted to. Addicted like a drug, because he was dangerous, and he knew that he did nothing good for Jack. But the connection that he’d made pushed Alex into even darker territory; somewhere that Jack didn’t want to go. Because he knew, he finally knew what Alex had done. What it was that made Jack so tantalisingly afraid of him, a fear that he went back for.
He stopped in front of Alex, who hadn’t moved. Growling, Jack stared into his eyes. “Why the fuck did you do it?”
Alex’s expression didn’t change. His index finger trailed slowly across his bottom lip, his teeth white once more. Jack shuddered, and yet he found himself watching the path of Alex’s finger. Wishing desperately to crush his lips to the white ones in front of him. Then he recoiled.
“Do what?”
Jack couldn’t explain his emotions. He was terrified, intoxicated, overwhelmed, dangerously smitten. He reached out and grabbed Alex’s forearm, dragging him deeper into the corner where no light could get. Despite the raging inferno in Alex’s eyes, he laughed humourlessly.
“I didn’t plan on getting lucky tonight.”
Jack snarled. “Shut up. You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. So, why? What did they do to you?”
He knew he should be running for the hills, instead of demanding answers. But he felt like he had to, to try and ascertain why Alex would do such a thing, with no remorse. Jack couldn’t put off the feeling that this was to do with him. Madness. He swore never to drink cheap, college alcohol again.
And now Alex’s expression shifted. He dropped the façade that had been encasing him in a protective shell the entire time he’d been here. His features darkened and sharpened, taking on a different tone, one other than arrogance. Ferocity. He was all angles, and blackness. His cheekbones seemed to slant even more, exaggerating the size and depth of his eyes, and the danger of unexpected actions that flickered in the black pools. His mouth curled upwards ever so, the topmost corner of his mouth twitching, hinting at a smile that was most likely the last thing one ever saw.
“So now Jacky wants to play, eh?” He shifted to step closer to Jack, the distance between their two bodies decreasing until paper would have difficulty slipping into the space. He stared into Jack’s eyes, eyebrow quirking infinitesimally. “Chloe and Kyle wanted to play, and look what happened to them. And dear Mrs. Wood; she just got too close.” He trailed a finger over Jack’s cheekbone delicately. “I couldn’t have that.”
His voice had dropped to a murmur, catching in his throat every so often. Jack shivered despite the heat of the room. Bodies still moved desperately on the dance floor, oblivious. His fingers tingled with fear.
“You’re insane,” Jack choked out, trying to cope under the immense strain of his wildly fluctuating emotions. “You should be locked up.”
Alex smiled a little more, placing his hand by his side once more. “No, not insane Jack. I’m just someone who has something to hide,” he tilted his head excitement flourishing in his eyes, like a curious animal. “A secret.”
Jack felt his cheeks flush with anger, and fear. His skin prickled at the sudden sharpness of Alex’s smile. “And that’s worth killing for?” His voice cracked, a strained whisper. Alex only sighed, before flicking his eyes toward the crowd and then back to Jack. He flashed out a hand and pulled Jack onto the dance floor, right into the centre of the gyrating bodies. Jack flinched, repulsed and strangely elated at the touch. The contact sent hot shivers up his spine and fear tightening in his stomach.
“Fucking let go of me!” He shouted above the music, conscious of how many people were around them. It seemed that the petty dramas that had caused so many tears were forgotten in a haze of acidic alcohol, pounding music and all consuming lust. But Alex either didn’t hear him or ignored his voice, dragging him until they stood in the middle, surrounded by bodies. He let go of Jack’s arm and turned to face him, eyes bright and alive as a smile flitted across his features, as sharp as a blade and twice as dangerous.
“Time to dance, Barakat.” And within a split second, he was dancing, moving body close to Jack’s in a way that clouded Jack’s mind. But he nearly cried aloud in protest.
Throwing out his arms he pushed Alex back, and then proceeded to snatch his hands away as though from hot coals. “What has this got to do with me, Alex? Why are you here?!”
He inched forward, Alex’s face close enough to kiss as he breathed the words over Jack. “For you.” He brushed his nose against Jack’s, eyes locked onto the chocolate pair that were wide and dilated with fear and need. He smiled at that, savouring the terror that he could taste. This was it, all the waiting, the planning and the killing. It had been leading up to his moment.
Alex felt suddenly reluctant, the odd anticipation fluttering in his stomach tainted with something else. A longing that was different to the burning in his throat, something that had confused him for some weeks now. He couldn’t deny that Jack wasn’t attractive, even for a painfully unintelligent, blundering human. His black hair flopped down partially over his forehead, the large eyes brown and soft, sharp cheekbones and jaw line tapering down onto skinny shoulders. He frowned, seeing in himself what he saw in Jack. Jack was less a target, more of a person now. His eyes widened as he realised what he’d gone and done. He couldn’t. That would mean banishment, exile.
And this was business. He forced himself to raise his hands to rest on Jack’s waist, ignoring the tingling in his fingertips and the butterflies in his stomach. The insanity that ripped his mind apart with the stench of his room was driving his actions now. He swallowed the oddly weightless feeling that had lodged itself in his chest, and set his features.
“I guess Daddy never told you what he does for a living, did he? Who he’s gone and pissed off?” Alex forced a smile, exposing his teeth. Preparing himself. It would be perfectly dramatic, and no doubt it would be his last act. But he realised now that he was in too deep to get out of this anyway. If it was going to be final, why not go out with a bang?
Jack frowned, frightened, lusty eyes darkening. “He’s the managing director of the local sports magazine, I went to his office.”
Alex shook his head. “You’re father is the reason I’m here. Because he’s managed to make very dangerous enemies, Barakat. And I’m afraid that you and I are just collateral damage.” He pressed himself closer to the other boy, feeling his slim form against his own, relishing in the last moments. But he didn’t want to. He was torn. Half of him screamed to just get it over with now, enjoy it; but the other half begged for him not to, to follow the unexplained feeling in his stomach.
He grit his teeth, he didn’t have a choice anymore. Jack swallowed, eyes widening even further as he caught onto what Alex was doing. “N- No, you c-can’t. You’re lying, I know it. This isn’t h-happening.”
Alex pressed a finger up to his now sweaty lips, wiping the solitary tear that escaped his eye away with his thumb. “I don’t have a choice, Jack. And neither do you.” He moved closer, before pressing his lips onto Jack’s, tasting salt, heat and the blood underneath the thin skin. It only increased the need that escalated in his mind, tearing his resistance down. Deepening the kiss, he teased himself. Tormenting himself with the taste of Jack, the sweetness that ingited the flames that heated his skin and sent him into a frenzy. Jack’s shaking hands were dragged up to tangle in Alex’s hair against their will. He was terrified, and yet this what was he had been waiting for.
Alex pulled back slightly, and whispered his last words into Jack’s mouth. “Goodbye, Jack Barakat.”
And in a flash of dilated pupils, sharpened teeth and incoherency, a scream rent the air as terror, blood and pain exploded into the room.
----
Author: wesaysummerrr
Rating: R
Pairing: Alex Gaskarth/Jack Barakat
POV: Third
Summary: in the scene of Jack’s school prom, there’s someone waiting for him.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these guys in any way. This is utterly fake. Title and cut belong to Aiden - Teenage Queen.
Author Notes: this is just a little something that hit me when I was at college today. I felt creative, so here’s the end product. This actually took me a little longer than anticipated to write, but I really enjoyed it. So here’s just a tasty morsel for you guys ;)
here’s my tumblr
The music pounded in time to the thumping in his chest, bodies swaying and dipping as they danced, the smell of alcohol and perspiration heavy in the air as flashing lights distorted the movement in the room. He weaved through the masses expertly, twisting his lithe body as limbs were thrown haphazardly as students attempted to dance as cheap punch intoxicated their senses and slurred their conversations.
He grimaced, if he wasn’t here for business he would have never even set foot in this place’s direction. It was vile, the stench of unawarrented happiness clogged his throat and nose, seeping into his mind and gnashing his teeth. He hated it. The only remotely positive thing about being here tonight? Was the potential for havoc.
A tainted smile pulled at one of his lips, pulling the skin over the teeth that glowed in the UV lighting. He slid his tongue across his teeth, tasting the thin layer of saliva that kicked in the back of his mouth. His eyes shone in the dim light, picking up on the glimmer of anticipation that flickered in most of the boy’s eyes, and the sparkle of temptation in the girl’s. His lips only drew back more, a soft chuckle tickling his throat. The soft form of a scantily clad girl pressed up against him suddenly, her arms held in the air as she twisted her body down onto him, seeming to think that he was interested. Repulsed, he took a step backward and felt a sneer twist up his features. He extended a hand and grabbed one of her arms, before promptly flinging her out of the way, uncaring of whether she regained her balance or not.
He was only here for one thing tonight.
------
6 Weeks Earlier.
Jack shuffled through the empty corridor, taking the opportunity when no one else would be there to dump his stuff and nip to the toilets. He needed to tweak his hair, it had been driving him crazy ever since he saw the rebellious strand earlier in his lecture, the blackness defying the strength of his hair gel and sticking out. He growled, because really, he was beside himself with something other than the average emotions of an eighteen-year-old boy. There was a nagging suspicion that lodged itself in the back of his mind, tingling in his spine whenever the exchange student was mentioned, or was in his eyesight. He couldn’t count the number of times that he’d lost his train of thought whenever the flawless skinned student walked past him, completely and utterly oblivious to his presence with cold eyes that skimmed anything that didn’t warrant his attention.
There was just something, different, about him. He could put his finger on it, the feeling that he didn’t belong in a college corridor setting his nerves jangling. Slipping into the toilets and wrinkling his nose at the distinct stench of urine as it attacked his nostrils, he frowned as he ran his hand through his hair. It wasn’t co-operating, the same, possessed strand refusing to flatten underneath his palm. He scowled at himself in the large mirror that was smeared with god-knows-what, pulling his black button up shirt down lower to flatten out the creases. He fiddled with his belt, adjusting it so that it sat lower on his lips and was dead centre at the front. Groaning in defeat his hands dropped from trying to amend the situation with his hair and he flung himself from the toilets, taking deep breaths of ‘clean’ air, conscious of the gentle bumping of his bag on his back as he walked.
It was late, the skies had already begun to darken and the street lamps flicked on outside as he pushed aside the double doors that led out into the student car park. Jack lived too close for it to be sensible for him to drive in, when he could stroll along at his own pace along the roads that he’d surely worn a groove into now considering how many times his footsteps traced each other every morning and afternoon.
Hitching his rucksack higher up on his shoulder, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and dipped his head, listening to the steady rhythm of the pounding of his feet on tarmac, conscious of the disappearances.
----
3 Weeks Later
This guy, Alex Gaskarth, was a complete and utter douche. Jack frowned as he wiped the remnants of what had been his lunch from his shirt, the depth of his frown casting his chocolate brown eyes into shadow as venomous words shaped his lips and hissed passed his clenched teeth.
Jack had been sitting down at one of the tables that filled the cafeteria, immersed in conversation with his friends and minding his own business. And then, with no warning or need there was Alex, standing up and shouting something similar to “these are new jeans you fucking asshole!” at the guy that had tripped over his foot and dropped whatever was on the menu into his lap. He’d then proceeded to walk over to the other boy and growl at him, “so how are you going to pay for a new pair, what with your parents not even earning enough to dress their own son properly?”
It had been an accident of course, because no one dared cross this guy, even though he had only been in the college for a couple of weeks, he’d already built up a healthy reputation. More than healthy.
There were rumours, naturally. This thing occurred almost instinctively when someone new turned up and showed signs of not being the stereotypically horny, confused and almost bi-polar student that stepped over the threshold more times than Jack could count. There were mutterings that his parents were millionaires; or that they run some globally known company that sucked the money from the world’s pockets and funded the hair products that styled his frustratingly perfect hair.
But Jack had done nothing to deserve what Alex had done, a glint in his eye the only forewarning that had Jack snatching an empty tray and holding it up to his face, just in time to catch the missile that flew towards him. A solid thump that jolted his arms sounded as something edible hit the tray, emitted a faintly nauseous squelch.
Jack threw the tray away, uncaring of where it landed or who it connected with, focusing only on the tomato redness that stained his blue shirt, and the careful smirk on the face of the boy in front of him
“What, the fuck is wrong with you?” Jack yelled, ignoring the sudden butterflies as Alex’s pitch black eyes flicked up to his own, holding there and burning into his retinas. Jack felt like he was ripping off his skin and exposing his soul to the entire student body, right there, right then. The white’s of his eyes were flecked with almost non existent, tiny blood vessels, exaggerating how his eyes where like two pits of coal in the plains of his angled face. His dark brown hair swept across his brow as he lifted a hand to run it through the strands, black t-shirt riding up ever so and showing off a sliver of printed boxers. Regardless of whether he was a prize dick or not, he knew how to dress.
“Well?” Jack demanded, jabbing his hands in a furious motion toward the large bolognese sauce stain that would only come out after ten washes, which would in turn shrink the actual garment. The guy just had the nerve to give him an even colder look, one eyebrow quirking up a little at the tip, lips sliding over his white teeth in a fake smile.
“You shouldn’t have got in the way then, should you?” Extending a hand forward, he flicked his eyes down to tell Jack that he should take it. But Jack just stood that little straighter and snatched both a tissue and his bag, hitched the bag onto his shoulder, stared into the pitch black eyes that narrowed slightly and turned his back. It was a game, one which he could sense Alex was accustomed to playing. But wasn’t about to be undermined by some freakish new guy.
He could tell that Alex wasn’t used to being challenged or rebuffed, so that was exactly what he would do.
-------
Jack looked on in hopeful bliss, surrounded by pounding music, the smell of the cheap, bright green liquid that might have well been acid from the caustic burning in his throat, and the bustle of people around him, pushing past him and dancing on the floor amongst the lights.
He pulled his tie from around his neck, loosening the knot slightly to make himself more comfortable. His tux was beginning to bring about beads of sweat on his brow, black hair styled to within an inch of its life so that it didn’t appear like he’d just fallen out of bed and rolled here whilst getting changed walking through a conifer bush. That look was undesirable.
Especially when there was only one reason he was here; and that reason came in the form of the 6 foot, slim build, brown haired, smooth talking, black eyed form of Alex Gaskarth. And as a movement away from the rest of the crowd caught his eye, his eyes rested on the suit-adorned body of said pretentious asshole. Who happened to look fucking hot tonight. But that said, he was probably mildly drunk by now, having consumed numerous cups of the cheap, noxious liquid that swam in the large bowl on the table he stood by. He apologised profusely to his liver as he picked up another cup. He was teetering on the edge now, the room swaying ever so as his eyes followed the figure that had caught his attention.
Jack groaned internally, chugging the rest of the toxic coloured liquid that set his eyes smarting and throat alight he chucked the plastic cup down and rolled his eyes and he pushed through the gyrating crowd to follow the figure that disappeared into the brightly-lit toilets. Taking the hand that swiped out and caught him off his ass, he struggled through the crowd until he reached the black door that was still swinging slightly from its last entrant.
Swallowing the abrupt queasiness that attacked his stomach, he took in a breath in and pushed on the door. As he rounded the corner of the commercially tiled, blinding white walls, he flicked his eyes up as he saw a black figure standing at the sinks.
A gasp of horror left his mouth at what they rested on.
------
Ignoring Alex Gaskarth was proving more difficult that Jack had originally thought. He tried to let his eyes follow the figure that walked with a faint swagger, like he knew that people were watching him. Because of course, he did. His mouth was almost fixed into a half smirk and his eyes were cold, calculating. Most guys looked at you with a look that said they wanted sex. Alex looked at you with the kind of expression that said you’d already had sex, and although knew it had been good insisted on just being ‘friends’.
What Jack had noticed though, besides his infuriating tendencies, was how people kept going missing. There were two disappearances now, the students slipping away without a trace. Chloe Saunders had vanished a week ago after a perfectly normal day at college, where Jack had seen her not long before she was declared missing. There was no sign that she’d taken her own life, or actually gone anywhere, everything was as though she’d just been snatched out of thin air, leaving all her possessions as they were. Jack couldn’t get his head round it.
And then now there was Kyle Lemmington. He’d only gone missing three days ago, his hysterical parents sobbing and screaming up to the college that he had just vanished. They’d got a call from him when he was on his way home; but that he’d never arrived. Chills shot up Jack’s spine as he thought about the proximity of these incidents to him, how they were happened at his college, to the people that he’d been familiar with since the first day. In two years, there had never been anything like this happen.
Then he thought of something. These disappearances had only started occurring since Alex Gaskarth had joined the college, with his secrecy and solitude. The eyes that revealed nothing and said all, his facial expression that hinted at a higher knowledge and a condescending attitude that rivalled even the best. But then, there hadn’t just been the two disappearances. Jack shivered a little as he walked through the busy corridor to his next lecture, holding the AS Biology textbook close to his chest to stop it being dislodged by careless elbows. His head was far away, immersed in speculation and confusion, seeing again the scene that no one wanted to see.
Mrs. Wood, the Psychology teacher. She didn’t disappear. In fact, she was found in bright daylight, in a condition that still wrenched his stomach and had him dry gagging as he sat down at a table, dropping his books onto the polished surface. His head swam as the images that had been bothering him for several weeks played out again in his mind’s eye.
The silence that screamed itself hoarse at him as he opened the door that was left ajar; the steady dripping sound of liquid hitting the linoleum flooring; the stench of iron and salt that clogged his nostrils and coated his tongue; and the pale, long dead skin of her legs as she hung from the rafters, wrists slashed and expression fixed into one of unutterable terror.
Jack’s hand had flown to his mouth, wishing that he wasn’t the one that found her. Why did he have to be there, at that time? It could have been anyone that stumbled across her body, or seen the blood stained suicide note that was pinned to the board. But why do it? And why at the college? He didn’t exactly know how someone was feeling when there seemed like there was no other escape, but he couldn’t grasp the need for such exposure.
The nasal voice of the lecturer pierced the nagging thoughts that prodded dread further to the forefront of his mind. He couldn’t help thinking that each of these incidents, they were around him. He had found Mrs. Wood. Chloe Saunders had been an acquaintance from the first day, and Kyle had been his partner in Biology. The persistent thought that this had something to do with him stuck in his throat as his head jerked to stare dumbly at the lecturer, who had just asked him a question.
“What?”
Mr. Friar frowned, nostrils flaring as he took in an outraged breath. “I don’t think you addressed me correctly, Mr. Barakat.”
Jack rolled his eyes and slouched his shoulders, before flicking his eyes back up to stare at Mr. Friar underneath his eyebrows. “Pardon, Mr. Friar?” His voice dripped sarcasm as he threw them at the greying man in front of him. Which earned him a forty-five minute detention for intolerable behaviour.
Intolerable. Yeah, right, he scoffed. Mr. Friar had been itching to shove Jack in detention since they came back from the summer break; it’d only taken the entire year but his already smug attitude was enough to clench Jack’s teeth viciously.
But as he stuffed his books and equipment back into his bag, fuming under his breath at how pathetic this place had become, his head twitched right as a chuckle reached his ears. One that was instantly recognisable. His eyes came to rest on those of Alex Gaskarth, their blackness penetrating. He flashed Jack a half smile as he skirted the tables, the object that his left hand was wrapped around finding itself on Jack’s table, placed there as Alex walked past. The other paused, leaning forward slightly and dropped his eyes to what he’d just given to Jack.
It was an iPod, the white headphones wrapped around the silver device carefully. The black eyes that held Jack’s glinted with hidden laughter, and something else. Jack thought he noticed something different as Alex’s pristine teeth were exposed from behind his lips, easy words slipping from his throat.
“To keep you entertained in that detention of yours.” Jack saw how his jaw moved around the words, the sharp cheekbones catching the fluorescent light that was only found in educational institutes, the kind that did nothing for anyone. And yet somehow Alex managed to look as frustratingly attractive even when placed the circumstances that made Jack look like a listless zombie. He caught the faint aroma of his breath as he patted the table with the palm of his hand and stepped backward, mouth twisting into a self-assured smile.
Jack wrinkled his nose when Alex’s back was turned; he thought he detected a warmer smell underneath the mint freshness of his breath. Something that was sweet and sickening at the same time. One that set his nerves tingling, and his conscience writhing.
-----
2 week later
One week away from the college prom, and Alex’s eyes shifted from side to side apprehensively. No one had blown his cover yet, and the people that had been a threat to him he’d happily dealt with. They’d given him something in return to maintain his sanity, considering the situation that he had put himself into.
Actually, it hadn’t been him that had volunteered to come here. It was only under the orders from his superiors that he’d been thrown into this predicament, with only a brief outline to work with. There had been no forewarning of what things could be like, what Jack could be like, or what he would be presented with when he arrived. Alex had just been dumped into a situation he only knew the vaguest of details about, the tapestry of information noticeably threadbare.
Not that he wasn’t willing to complete it. The prospect of sinking his teeth into some action ignited a fire of excitement in his stomach and dilated his pupils, darkening his already black eyes. To which no one had raised an eyebrow he mused, as someone dumped several pages of paper onto his desk, held together with a staple whilst red pen scribbled something in the corner. Results from the in class test the other day. Alex directed his eyes toward the red marking swiftly, needing no more than a glance to confirm what he already knew. He’d passed. Leaning back into his chair, he contemplated how no one had raised suspicion about him; about his mannerisms, his appearance. Maybe it was expected of teenagers these days to wear contacts that changed the colour of their eyes, or self-assurance came in abundance to a degree that destroyed people, or to be so introvert that they began to turn inside out.
Then his features darkened, knuckles tightening on the edge of the table. He ignored the burning in his throat as anger twisted in his gut. There had been several that had tried to make his life difficult. More difficult than it already was. The girl had simply got too close, had seen something that he thought no one else had, and that had been enough. She was too shifty to take the risk, there was too much riding on him for it to be endangered by a teenage girl that couldn’t keep her mouth shut.
So he made sure it didn’t open again. The pencil that he’d been gripping snapped suddenly, jerking his body in shock and widening his eyes that had been narrowing into slits. Alex ignored the numerous heads that swivelled in his direction at the loud crunch of wood breaking underneath his fingers, instead dropping the fragments onto his desk and directing his attention to the front. At which the surprised expression of the lecturer met his eyes and hurriedly continued with explaining the message behind the piece of writing that they were studying.
And Alex allowed himself to drift off again, not needing to take in any of what was being said. The thoughts that had been briefly suspended flooded his head again, and he felt his mouth set into an unforgiving line. He’d had to do it. There was just no other option that had presented itself to him. She was a liability, dead certain to give something away that could damage him. He couldn’t allow that.
So the police thought it was murder. Well, they hadn’t disclosed that opinion but once you got to know how they think, it was obvious that they suspected more at work here than a simple disappearance. And they would be right. But technically, murder implied that one human had killed another. This time, it was definitely more than the average murder. At that, Alex had to smile.
And the boy? He’d simply been too close to Jack was preferable, considering how Alex needed to worm his way into the boy’s life almost seamlessly. And Kyle’s timetable gave him so much time with Jack, that it was almost instinctive that Alex should take his place. Permanently. But then Alex frowned, but he was sure Jack suspected something. In truth, he couldn’t blame the kid. His Biology partner disappears shortly after Alex himself joins the college. But he couldn’t be allowed to put too many factors together - Alex didn’t doubt that he would, because he was intelligent, for what he was - because Alex really didn’t have the flexibility to rush things or get ahead of himself. Actions had to fall into place to maximise their effects in his favour.
But a soothing thought calmed the disturbed surface of his thoughts. One that filled him with a confidence that tugged his lips up slightly. There was one reason alone why Jack wouldn’t want to think too badly of him, something that he’d noticed almost immediately from his body language and Alex’s experience when it came to analyzing behaviour. Jack was batting for the other team. Alex had seen the grudging, appreciation in his chocolate brown eyes as Alex had walked down the corridor. He’d seen the self-hatred in the same eyes, fighting with himself as suspicion and competitive dislike jostled for first place. But there was also something else that flicked the boy’s eyes up to Alex, and kept them there.
His teeth flashed in the commercial lighting and he twirled a fresh pencil in between his fingers, glancing at the clock to try and hurry time along.
--
2 weeks earlier
It was last thing in the afternoon, and Alex caught the eyes of the reason why he was here in the first place. The chocolate depths hardened as they realised that Alex was walking over to join the person to whom they belonged.
“Barakat,” Alex nodded, seeing the kid’s tall form scrunched into one of the chairs. Jack only narrowed his eyes in response, and Alex could practically see the caution in his expression as Alex slid into a chair opposite him. He had to make sure that his suspicion didn’t reach dangerous levels. Then he would have had to do something about it; and really, he’d rather things just went according to plan.
“What are you doing here?” Jack’s fingers tightened in the fists that they were curled into, resting on the smooth plains of the table as time ticked gently forward. Alex sighed, reassuring himself that there was plenty of time. No need to rush.
Besides, he would never confide it to anyone, but secretly he got some reluctant enjoyment from the other boy’s presence. His eyes raked over how his cheekbones slanted in a way that exaggerated the size of his eyes. Deep down where it shouldn’t exist there was a twisted part of him that wanted to smile as his lips curled upward, and wanted to put that smile there, just so that he knew he was having an effect on Jack.
Snapping out of it, he let his eyes drift toward the slouched figure that shunted away from him. Tilting his head away and resting his fist on his hand to keep it deliberately angled away. Alex heard a gentle sniff, a statement that Jack really didn’t want Alex to be there. But that wasn’t about to change. He had business to do.
“You know, ignoring me isn’t going to make my detention suddenly irrelevant.”
Jack grunted, swivelling his chin on his fist to stare accusingly at Alex. “What makes you think that I’d want to pay you any attention?”
Alex laughed, glancing around to ensure that there were no members of staff. Sometimes, he admired how lax this college could be on punishment, and rules. He cast out his hearing and came to the conclusion that no one was about to check that they’d actually bothered to turn up to this detention. Leaning back over to Jack, he let his eyes burn into chocolate.
“Do you really want to be here right now, or would ditching this pathetic excuse of a detention be so fucking bad?” He tried to discourage the sudden excitement that glinted in his eyes as he allowed a small smile to worm its way into Jack’s fortress of defences, like he knew it would.
And he had to suppress a confused grimace at the warm influx of pride, and something else, when the face in front of his finally softened. Jack rolled his eyes and muttered “fuck it” before standing hastily and slinging his bag over his shoulder. His dark eyes flicked up to Alex’s for a moment, indicating that he didn’t trust the brown-haired boy enough to walk in front of him. The faint smile that tugged one side of Alex’s mouth up was bitter, tainted with an ulterior motive.
“Ladies first,” Jack said, holding out his hand so that Alex stepped in front of him, Jack falling into step behind him, shifting around the tables and glancing around awkwardly. There would be a serious price if they were caught ditching, but he figured what the hell, this was his chance to get to know Alex Gaskarth. To see what he was hiding underneath that condescending attitude.
Alex choked out a laugh, stepping to the side once they were out of the door to force Jack to walk beside him. This wasn’t about suspicion; this was about ensuring that Alex got closer to Jack. And the way things were going, he needed to shift into gear if he was going to achieve that by Prom. Because the annual college prom was something public, excruciatingly cliché. A place where drama unfurled its talons and sunk them into the dark folds of teenage angst.
“What’s the matter, Barakat, don’t you trust me?” He felt his lips twitch upward, tilting his head toward the tall boy walking beside him, staring at his feet. Through the strands of hair that flopped in front of his right eye, he saw the quintessential expression flash across Jack’s face, his eyes narrowing as a humourless smile pulled at his lips, exposing bright white teeth.
“Not as far as I could throw you, Gaskarth.”
Alex scoffed. “How far is that, considering that you’re unnaturally scrawny?” He let one eyebrow quirk upwards, lengthening his stride as temptation glittered in his eyes. Not now. Not today. Swallowing harshly, he sunk further into stereotypical mystery and forced his eyes to drift somewhere else, other than how Jack’s pulse jumped in his throat. It wasn’t helping matters, taking into account that his nostrils were clogged with the scent of humanity.
“I am not that fucking skinny,” he exclaimed, throwing his head down and examining himself, before sighing and bringing his head left to sneer at Alex. “Fine, fuck you. I’m skinny. But that just means that my earlier statement is even more relevant.”
“Why, because you wouldn’t even be able to lift me up?” Alex stated, pushing into the door that stood between them and the outside world, the first signs of rain in the sky as the clouds twisted angrily. Jack answered him before slipping outside.
“Exactly.”
-
Jack didn’t let himself dwell on the fact that he was walking down a darkening street with the one person that could be connected with these disappearances. He felt the paranoid voice in the back of his mind blink awake after a period of ease and see how the boy next to him kept having to glance away and swallow, the façade failing every so often.
And Jack wanted to know who he really was. Because he didn’t act like the ‘normal’ teenager. The way he looked at things with aged eyes, like he’d seen everything before and could be surprised by nothing. Behind the flippant attitude, if he was caught in a moment when he thought no one was looking, he looked tired. There were dark circles underneath his eyes that exaggerated his complexion and hinted at a different side to his calm exterior. Suggesting at a ferocity that most didn’t know, and that would be dangerous to get on the wrong side of.
Jack shivered, convincing himself that Alex was just another hormone fuelled eighteen year old like himself, and no one that should warrant the slight fear that pumped through Jack’s veins. Because he wasn’t even going to try and deny that he was unnerved by the person that walked steadily beside him, keeping up a stream of conversation. His voice was smooth as per usual, only hinting at an underlying strain that Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on.
But whatever it was, Jack bit the bullet, eager to reveal a little more about him.
“Where did you transfer from?”
Alex’s eyes lifted to look at Jack for a brief moment before he directed his attention forward and let words shape his lips. “I came over from England several years ago, because my family wanted the sense of opportunity here and my father had secured a job that we couldn’t say no to. I used to live in New York, but my mother wanted something quieter. So here I am.” He shrugged, lifting the sudden weight in his words. But Jack felt something strange about the tone of his voice, how the sadness sounded practised.
Jack frowned. “You lived in England? What’s it like there?” He was curious as to why the little pimple of land was always speculated about to be something so wonderful. Admittedly, he’d always wanted to go there, just to see. London would be a good experience. Alex’s caustic snort dragged him away from his thoughts.
“People always make out that it’s something extravagant when they live abroad, when the inhabitants can’t seem to grasp why people want to go there. But I loved it.” His tone was suddenly far away, and Jack couldn’t help but feel a little chagrined, as though what Alex was saying was too personal. But then, he had asked. Jack titled his head right, to focus on the expression on the other’s face instead of resorting to staring at his feet, as he did when he was uncomfortable.
Alex continued, his eyes focused on something Jack couldn’t see as the sun bounced off the metallic black. “It’s been the only place I’ve felt at home since I can remember.” But then he seemed to snap out of it, abruptly coming back into their surroundings and realising what he must have sounded like. His features darkened into instinctive ferocity, and closed behind the door that shut out the faint glimmer of vulnerability that had just been about to show itself.
Catching Jack off guard Alex grabbed his left forearm and yanked him to a stop harshly, snarling a little at the other boy. He closed the distance between them in one swift step, the contrast of his black eyes and pale skin startling as the glare of the sun behind his head cast his features into shadow.
“You repeat that to anyone else, and I’ll hunt you down and rip your vocal cords out. Got it?” The anger in his eyes, that flashed dangerously and revealed the instability behind his exterior, it scared Jack. He stumbled backward hastily, swallowing automatically as fear flooded into his mouth. But then something shifted, and Jack felt a flicker of indignation in his chest. Who was this guy, to think that he could stamp authority all over Jack?
“Don’t talk to me like that.” He spat, ripping his arm out of Alex’s tight grasp and staring hard into his blazing eyes. They widened infinitesimally, the briefest of moments where Alex was genuinely shocked at his defiance. But less than a second later they narrowed once more, a malevolent smirk tugging one side of his pale pink lips upward.
“So you think I don’t mean it? That I won’t destroy you if anything about this little ‘meeting’ forms on your lips?” He cocked his head a little, and Jack wished that the sun had more life left before it disappeared. “You think that I’m full of empty words?”
The vicious curl in his lips exposed his white teeth, glistening in the ever-decreasing light of the dying sun. Jack swallowed again, hearing the soft threat in his voice. Despite the fact that he was several inches taller than Alex, he felt like a child again. A child who had been discovered doing something wrong and whose parents where now laying into him.
A slim hand flashed out and grasped his chin between his first finger and thumb, whilst another fastened around his waist to force Jack down to stare into Alex’s eyes. Jack’s breath hitched slightly as the other’s breath washed over his face - catching the same underlying warm, moist scent as he had earlier - there was something about the way the fingers felt on his body that sent warnings into Jack’s head. Where the fingertips connected with his skin, albeit underneath a thin cotton shirt, it felt like sparks of electricity entering his bloodstream, the tiny shocks of pain stabbing into his skin. Leaving him craving more.
“I know your little secret, Barakat.” Alex murmured, letting his eyes drift close partially as he inclined his head into Jack’s jaw line and skimmed the skin there with his nose. Jack shivered a little at the barely audible sigh that reverberated in the other’s throat. It was raw, tainted with need. “And normally, that means that you get to know one of mine.” He pulled back, dropping the hand from Jack’s waist and letting go of his chin. Jack didn’t like the glint that was in his eyes. “Think of it as an exchange.”
Jack snorted. “And what possible secret could you know about me? You’ve been here, what, six weeks? You’re still the new guy.”
“Six weeks is more than enough time to find out everything about someone, whether they’re aware of it or not.” Alex shot back, feeling his hands creep up to shield his eyes from the last rays of the sun, apparently glad that it was finally hidden by the horizon. His shoulders relaxed a little as the sky darkened, as though released from some invisible pressure and discomfort.
“Oh yeah, so what have you ‘gathered’ about me that could possibly give you any fucking leverage?” But his hands curled into fists as something tightened in his chest, the very thing that he had been tormented for during his entire school life flinging itself to the forefront of his mind.
He wouldn’t be able to bear it if Alex bullied him because of it as well. He could practically feel bruises forming on his skin as he stood stock still, daring the other boy in front of him to come out with it, to just get it over with and then beat the shit out of him.
Alex laughed. Yet it wasn’t in anticipation, and neither was it born from humour. “Isn’t it obvious? Or do I have to put my hands on you again to make it any clearer?”
His features were unreadable as Jack stared quivering slightly from the cold, and how vulnerable he felt. Alex’s gaze felt again like he was staring into his soul and picking out all the defects. He swallowed, suddenly realising that Alex wasn’t about to lay into him because he was gay. Unlike everyone else he’d encountered.
“So that makes you think you’ve got control over me? Just because your pot luck guess about my fucking sexuality was right?” Jack let out a sigh and started walking, shaking his head. “Screw you, Gaskarth.”
Alex frowned and snagged his arm again. “Don’t walk away from me.” His voice was dripping in outrage, features hard as Jack whipped round to stare at him.
“What? What the fuck are you going to do about it, knock me unconscious with your wit?” He shrugged his arm out of Alex’s hand again, and paced forward, eager to get home now that the sun had gone down. He didn’t fancy being stranded out in the dark with Alex Gaskarth. There was something about him that set Jack on edge.
Alex was suddenly in front of him, the change of atmosphere only exaggerating his features, washing his skin of colour and enhancing the brown of his hair and the black of his eyes - which glinted in a way that quickened Jack’s breathing. Nerves jangled in his stomach.
“It’s not just my wit that’s razor sharp, Jack-o.” His teeth shone grotesquely in the dim light.
-----
Jack fought down the scream that rose in his throat, along with the punch that he’d thrown into his stomach.
His eyes bulged as they locked onto the figure that was leaning over the white, ceramic sinks, a gruesome smile pulling his lips back as he saw that it was Jack. His eyes burned like coals amongst his even paler skin, purple shadows under his eyes that Jack hadn’t noticed until now giving him a deranged appearance.
There was blood trickling from his mouth. It stained his white teeth and ran in rivulets down his fingers, dripping to the floor in sickening thuds that seemed to slow down time. His brown hair was styled perfectly and not an ounce of anything had touched his tux, which was morbidly flattering. Jack shook his head, groaning at how the room span when he did, the alcohol swimming in his veins. His stomach churned. Focusing again on the black and white figure that took a step toward him, he stepped backwards awkwardly, holding a hand up to cradle his forehead.
“Please, tell me that’s fake.” He muttered, feeling the consequences of drinking his weight in the vile, unashamedly strong punch that must have had acid in it or something. His tongue was thick, heavy and his eyes widened as he felt the alcohol coming back up.
Flinging himself past the figure that stank of blood and expensive cologne, he threw himself at the nearest cubicle, slammed the door and hung over the toilet just in time as he vomited. Groaning as he leant back up, wiping his mouth and tasting bile, he knelt on the tiled floor and let his head drop backwards. His eyes were closed, savouring the meagre flow of air that washed across his clammy face. He felt fucking horrible.
Planting a hand on the paper dispenser he dragged himself to his feet and wiped his face of the beads of perspiration that had collected underneath his eyes, on his forehead and on his lips. Averting his eyes from the basin of the toilet he pulled down the handle and listened to the gushing of water as it was forced down the pipes. And then it all came rushing back, temporarily forgotten in a moment. His eyes widened as he saw again the expression on Alex’s face as he smiled with bloodstained teeth.
Jack brushed himself off and slid back the bolt on the cubicle, having managed to lock it just moments before his stomach emptied itself. He stepped out into the main body of the men’s hesitantly, fearing that Alex would be hiding somewhere behind the cubicle blocks to jump out and rip him apart or something. His own white face stared back at him in the torso length mirrors that lined the sinks, and Jack dropped his eyes to the white ceramics, half-expecting to see red, smeared handprints. But of course, they had been cleared away. A frown wrinkled his forehead, as he stepped carefully over to the bin and not seeing any bloodied tissues there. He smoothed his hand over his face, closing his eyes at the dizziness that made the room spin. He now regretted drinking all that god damn punch.
He hadn’t imagined seeing Alex like that, had he? He’d been right there, covering in blood with wide eyes that looked like he was riding some kind of high. Hadn’t he? Or was it just the twisted images of his imagination that dredged up a life size figure of Alex Gaskarth, acting out what Jack had feared since he first met the guy.
Running a hand through his hair, Jack walked over to the door and pushed it open roughly, features set into an expression of determination. He wanted to find Alex and confront him. But what he saw when as he returned to the dance floor indicated that Alex wasn’t going to be that hard to find.
Gone was the harmless, albeit raunchy, atmosphere that all Proms have as a stereotype. It was darker, the music was louder, the heavier guitars and almost menacing pound of the drums adding to the morbid scene. Girls cried as their dates allowed lust filled eyes to wander over scantily clad girls that flaunted themselves; make up smeared down several faces as twisted ankles begged for ice from snapped heels; split punch stained suits green as fists were thrown in a daze, the cheap, bitter alcohol distorting sensitive minds. Jack stared, seeing two boys fighting in the corner whilst several members of staff tried to peel each away from the other. He stepped backwards to allow a distressed girl run past him, holding the fragments of her dress to her body desperately, silent tears streaming down her face as she ran out of the entrance, heels clacking on the hard flooring.
Casting his vaguely blurry eyes around the crowed room that seemed to swell with misery, he soon found who he was looking for. Alex was standing in a darkened corner, the dim light picking up on some of his features and highlighting them, leaving the rest to the imagination. His cheekbones jutted out as the white light hit them, his hair shone and the hand that rested on his milky white lips was thrown into the light. Leaving his eyes as black as the smile that exposed his teeth.
Jack swallowed and strode towards him, ignoring the notion that he was going to trip, stumble or just do something that made him look like a fucking idiot in front of the one person that he was addicted to. Addicted like a drug, because he was dangerous, and he knew that he did nothing good for Jack. But the connection that he’d made pushed Alex into even darker territory; somewhere that Jack didn’t want to go. Because he knew, he finally knew what Alex had done. What it was that made Jack so tantalisingly afraid of him, a fear that he went back for.
He stopped in front of Alex, who hadn’t moved. Growling, Jack stared into his eyes. “Why the fuck did you do it?”
Alex’s expression didn’t change. His index finger trailed slowly across his bottom lip, his teeth white once more. Jack shuddered, and yet he found himself watching the path of Alex’s finger. Wishing desperately to crush his lips to the white ones in front of him. Then he recoiled.
“Do what?”
Jack couldn’t explain his emotions. He was terrified, intoxicated, overwhelmed, dangerously smitten. He reached out and grabbed Alex’s forearm, dragging him deeper into the corner where no light could get. Despite the raging inferno in Alex’s eyes, he laughed humourlessly.
“I didn’t plan on getting lucky tonight.”
Jack snarled. “Shut up. You know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. So, why? What did they do to you?”
He knew he should be running for the hills, instead of demanding answers. But he felt like he had to, to try and ascertain why Alex would do such a thing, with no remorse. Jack couldn’t put off the feeling that this was to do with him. Madness. He swore never to drink cheap, college alcohol again.
And now Alex’s expression shifted. He dropped the façade that had been encasing him in a protective shell the entire time he’d been here. His features darkened and sharpened, taking on a different tone, one other than arrogance. Ferocity. He was all angles, and blackness. His cheekbones seemed to slant even more, exaggerating the size and depth of his eyes, and the danger of unexpected actions that flickered in the black pools. His mouth curled upwards ever so, the topmost corner of his mouth twitching, hinting at a smile that was most likely the last thing one ever saw.
“So now Jacky wants to play, eh?” He shifted to step closer to Jack, the distance between their two bodies decreasing until paper would have difficulty slipping into the space. He stared into Jack’s eyes, eyebrow quirking infinitesimally. “Chloe and Kyle wanted to play, and look what happened to them. And dear Mrs. Wood; she just got too close.” He trailed a finger over Jack’s cheekbone delicately. “I couldn’t have that.”
His voice had dropped to a murmur, catching in his throat every so often. Jack shivered despite the heat of the room. Bodies still moved desperately on the dance floor, oblivious. His fingers tingled with fear.
“You’re insane,” Jack choked out, trying to cope under the immense strain of his wildly fluctuating emotions. “You should be locked up.”
Alex smiled a little more, placing his hand by his side once more. “No, not insane Jack. I’m just someone who has something to hide,” he tilted his head excitement flourishing in his eyes, like a curious animal. “A secret.”
Jack felt his cheeks flush with anger, and fear. His skin prickled at the sudden sharpness of Alex’s smile. “And that’s worth killing for?” His voice cracked, a strained whisper. Alex only sighed, before flicking his eyes toward the crowd and then back to Jack. He flashed out a hand and pulled Jack onto the dance floor, right into the centre of the gyrating bodies. Jack flinched, repulsed and strangely elated at the touch. The contact sent hot shivers up his spine and fear tightening in his stomach.
“Fucking let go of me!” He shouted above the music, conscious of how many people were around them. It seemed that the petty dramas that had caused so many tears were forgotten in a haze of acidic alcohol, pounding music and all consuming lust. But Alex either didn’t hear him or ignored his voice, dragging him until they stood in the middle, surrounded by bodies. He let go of Jack’s arm and turned to face him, eyes bright and alive as a smile flitted across his features, as sharp as a blade and twice as dangerous.
“Time to dance, Barakat.” And within a split second, he was dancing, moving body close to Jack’s in a way that clouded Jack’s mind. But he nearly cried aloud in protest.
Throwing out his arms he pushed Alex back, and then proceeded to snatch his hands away as though from hot coals. “What has this got to do with me, Alex? Why are you here?!”
He inched forward, Alex’s face close enough to kiss as he breathed the words over Jack. “For you.” He brushed his nose against Jack’s, eyes locked onto the chocolate pair that were wide and dilated with fear and need. He smiled at that, savouring the terror that he could taste. This was it, all the waiting, the planning and the killing. It had been leading up to his moment.
Alex felt suddenly reluctant, the odd anticipation fluttering in his stomach tainted with something else. A longing that was different to the burning in his throat, something that had confused him for some weeks now. He couldn’t deny that Jack wasn’t attractive, even for a painfully unintelligent, blundering human. His black hair flopped down partially over his forehead, the large eyes brown and soft, sharp cheekbones and jaw line tapering down onto skinny shoulders. He frowned, seeing in himself what he saw in Jack. Jack was less a target, more of a person now. His eyes widened as he realised what he’d gone and done. He couldn’t. That would mean banishment, exile.
And this was business. He forced himself to raise his hands to rest on Jack’s waist, ignoring the tingling in his fingertips and the butterflies in his stomach. The insanity that ripped his mind apart with the stench of his room was driving his actions now. He swallowed the oddly weightless feeling that had lodged itself in his chest, and set his features.
“I guess Daddy never told you what he does for a living, did he? Who he’s gone and pissed off?” Alex forced a smile, exposing his teeth. Preparing himself. It would be perfectly dramatic, and no doubt it would be his last act. But he realised now that he was in too deep to get out of this anyway. If it was going to be final, why not go out with a bang?
Jack frowned, frightened, lusty eyes darkening. “He’s the managing director of the local sports magazine, I went to his office.”
Alex shook his head. “You’re father is the reason I’m here. Because he’s managed to make very dangerous enemies, Barakat. And I’m afraid that you and I are just collateral damage.” He pressed himself closer to the other boy, feeling his slim form against his own, relishing in the last moments. But he didn’t want to. He was torn. Half of him screamed to just get it over with now, enjoy it; but the other half begged for him not to, to follow the unexplained feeling in his stomach.
He grit his teeth, he didn’t have a choice anymore. Jack swallowed, eyes widening even further as he caught onto what Alex was doing. “N- No, you c-can’t. You’re lying, I know it. This isn’t h-happening.”
Alex pressed a finger up to his now sweaty lips, wiping the solitary tear that escaped his eye away with his thumb. “I don’t have a choice, Jack. And neither do you.” He moved closer, before pressing his lips onto Jack’s, tasting salt, heat and the blood underneath the thin skin. It only increased the need that escalated in his mind, tearing his resistance down. Deepening the kiss, he teased himself. Tormenting himself with the taste of Jack, the sweetness that ingited the flames that heated his skin and sent him into a frenzy. Jack’s shaking hands were dragged up to tangle in Alex’s hair against their will. He was terrified, and yet this what was he had been waiting for.
Alex pulled back slightly, and whispered his last words into Jack’s mouth. “Goodbye, Jack Barakat.”
And in a flash of dilated pupils, sharpened teeth and incoherency, a scream rent the air as terror, blood and pain exploded into the room.
----