You're Dressed To Kill [1/2]
Title: You're Dressed To Kill [1/2]
Author: wesaysummerrr
Rating: R
Pairing: Jalex
POV: Third
Summary: Just a little Halloween action for you guys, involving costumes, vast quantities of alcohol and things that go bump in the night ;)
Disclaimer: I don’t own these guys. This is completely fake…a little something I thought of, considering the time of year. Title belongs to All Time Low - Jasey Rae. Cut belongs to Escape The Fate - Gorgeous Nightmare.
Author Notes: okay, so this going to be a two-part Halloween fic. The next part will be posted later today - my pc froze last night so i didn't get a chance to link it, so this one just kind of sets the scene for it. Wonder if you can guess what's going on... haha. I really enjoyed writing this, so, happy reading you cheeky devils you.
here's my tumblr.
26th October
A singular shaft of moonlight glints through the window, curtains left undrawn, cold air blowing gently through the gap in the glass. The liquid silver oozed lazily over half of the minimalist living room, illuminating a beige material sofa, a polished mahogany coffee table that glimmered in the meagre light, and a boy, curled tightly into a ball on the far end of the sofa, wide eyes fixed on something opposite. The television. He was watching one of those stereotypically scary films that were always aired at this time of the year, filled with mind-numbingly fake costumes, appalling acting and a plot that could be recited without even laying eyes on the film.
But that didn’t seem to matter to this boy. He held a cushion up to his face, covering the silent ‘o’ that shaped his lips, mouth quivering as a further twist in the tale had his eyebrows shooting up his forehead, a muffled whimper loosing from his throat. The remains of a pizza lay discarded on the glass topped coffee table, crusts nibbled delicately and then thrown back into the grease-stained cardboard box, garlic sauce still sitting open. The sliding windows one side of the lounge led out into the pitch black garden, the golden patio just about visible in the limited light. It wasn’t quite a full moon, a small chunk from the right side was still missing - but it wouldn’t be long.
A louder gasp escaped from the boy this time, eyes dark and scared as they watched a menacing figure climb further toward the usual unsuspecting victim. He shifted in his seat, toes curling and fingers grasping at the soft cushion until his knuckles turned white. An owl screamed outside in the darkness, the call carrying on the barely existent breeze; the boy leapt from his skin and yelped “Fuck!” as his hands flinched to cover his head, eyes darting to the windows, a cold blackness glaring into his soul. He stared fruitlessly for a minute, features blank as he strained his ears to try and hear the imagined whisper of movement outside. Then his eyes were dragged back to the dark screen of the television, suddenly seeing the predicament and shouting at the character earnestly.
“NO! Don’t go in there you fucking idiot, that’s where they are!” An arm stretched out to try and stop the door that slowly opened on the screen, a drawn-out creak echoing in the otherwise silence. Oblivious to the presence that was heading straight for the boy’s house, he shrunk back into the malleable sofa, hiding behind the cushion that was rammed up against his face.
The dark figure that had been watching circled the house, moving from the front around to the back. The wooden fence was easy, a simple jump and a wrench of power, silent and stealthy. Gliding smoothly over the pristine grass, the shape crept ever closer, target in sight, focused. The owl took off, startled as the cry of something larger called out into the night, the cold night air’s fingers trailing over his skin, raising the hairs there and swirling in dense plumes from his mouth. He was nearly there now, footsteps seamless as they slid over the patio, a crooked grin of anticipation twisting his facial features. Just another heartbeat and he was outside the full-length windows, muscles tense as pent up excitement had him quivering on the spot.
A ghastly scene was playing on the television, the boy absorbed entirely, form leaning forward as he stared, unable to tear his eyes away and yet repulsed at the sounds that filled his ears. Fingers kneaded the cushion absently, the tension setting his breathing rapid and shallow, the delicate hairs on his arms standing on end. The girl was running down the black corridor, walls closing in on her terrified face, having just witnessed the gruesome murder of her best friend. But something was coming, sliding and rustling in the blackness, always in the edge of her vision, scared eyes snapping over her shoulder as it got closer, closer and closer…
The sharp BANG! of something connecting with the window had the boy screaming, body lurching and jolting in fright as the blood-curdling yell pierced the silence that showed the room, mind reacting before he’d had a chance to think, adrenaline pumping in his veins. A split second later and he stood facing the windows, eyes black from the size of his dilated pupils. His arms twisted into a position that was meant to be self-defensive, hair sticking up in all directions and swept partially over his eyes. His voice cracked and shook as it squeaked past the lump obstructing his throat.
“W-who’s there?” The question was useless; he was alone in the house. And he didn’t think anyone would be able to hear him from the other side of the glass. Lowering his trembling hands and wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he tip- toed forward, toes sticking to the linoleum flooring as he swiped his tongue over his lips nervously.
Looking out into the garden behind the window he pressed a hand up against the cold glass, a small steam cloud obscuring the glass as it hit, fingers leaving small ovals of condensation. His eyes flickered around the expanse of garden that he could see, breathing coming in shallow gasps.
A face was suddenly staring back at him. Jumping backward and stumbling, another yell tore up his throat as shock stopped his heart for a beat, and then lurched it back into life. It took him several moments to recognise the dark features that now grinned sloppily at him, eyes two midnight pools of glee.
“Holy shit,” the lighter haired boy muttered, wiping a hand over his face limply from the intensity of the emotions that stressed his systems. Stepping closer to the window again, he paused before grabbing the cushion that lay on the floor and hurling it at the double-glazed window, happy to see how the other figure jumped back a little, a distorted, single-syllable laugh leaking through the glass. The light-haired boy stepped back over the window and wrenched the handle so that the window slid back with a mournful groan, glass vibrating as it moved.
“You’re a fucking prick, you know that?” The light-haired boy commented, eyes narrowing as the tall, dark-haired boy stepped inside and slipped past him, devilish smile revealing a flash of white teeth, eyes locked onto the half-eaten pizza.
“You love it,” the darker slung back, picking up one of the slices of pizza and cramming it in his mouth, standing to face the other. Who was now pulling the window closed again, but stopped as another rustle sounded outside. He stared for a moment, eyes trained on one particular spot that the moonlight couldn’t reach, the light intensifying the blackness that created images in his head.
“Alex?”
The light-haired boy, Alex, jumped. He turned his head, eyes locked outside until they were practically dragged round to glance at the other boy, mouth full of pizza, eyebrows drawing upwards.
“Mmh?” Alex was distant, frowning. Maybe it was just his mind playing games with him, but the rustle sounded distinctly, human. The other boy flicked the channel, music suddenly blasting out from the television and shaking the numerous cabinets and drawers that lined the walls of the living room.
“JACK! Turn it down, man!” Alex yelled over the screeching guitars and bellowing vocals, his voice lost in the madness. Jack turned to him once again, a questioning look gracing his features, the blonde-wedge of hair in his fringe obscuring his chocolate brown eyes. His hand was curled around the remote, arm outstretched from jabbing the black, square plastic object at the television vehemently, as though it wasn’t going to fulfil its purpose and actually change the channel. Alex yanked the window closed the rest of the way hurriedly, conscious that his neighbours would happily take the garden shovel to him in the morning for disturbing their night’s sleep.
“Turn it down!” Alex bellowed, elbowing Jack out of the way and shoving him onto the cushion, pressing the volume button furiously until the deafening, whining voice screaming out transformed into nothing more than background noise, the guitars and pounding drums reduced to something easily overlooked. Chucking the remote onto the other boy’s stomach with a tut and a playfully disgusted look, Alex bounded over to the glass covered cabinets to check that none of his parents possessions had crumbled to dust from the outburst from Scuzz. He swallowed as he saw a crack in one of his mother’s china plates, the small plate having jumped off its stand and now lay at the bottom of the cabinet. He thought it best she didn’t know. Opening the cabinet slowly to stop everything just falling down on him, he removed the plate and stepped over to the kitchen window that was half open, thin lace curtains blowing in the faint breeze. Peering out to ensure that there were no god forsaken neighbours curtain-twitching - it was late Tuesday evening, and most of his neighbours were arrogantly nosey - he heaved himself up onto the counter and clambered over the sink as best he could, swearing as his funny bone connected with the faucet.
Leaning his upper body fully out of the window, he drew his arm back and lobbed the small china plate as far as he could, smiling contentedly as it frisbee’d over several fences and dropped down into one of his notoriously troublesome neighbours garden. If it was found, there was always someone else that could be blamed.
As he dropped down from the counter, he caught Jack’s expression as he lay on the sofa where Alex had pushed him. The lighter haired boy shrugged.
“If you ever say anything about that, I will deny it.” he pointed a finger at Jack, grabbing a can of coke and kicking aside Jack’s long legs, sitting with a ‘huff’ onto the sofa. “You know, I’m gonna get you for what you did tonight.” He flicked his eyes sideways, trying not to smirk as he took a swig from the can, eyes narrowing as his nose tingled from the carbon in the drink. He swallowed quickly, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat.
Jack only smiled innocently before he nudged his toes into Alex’s ribs, and trying to clamber closer. “I doubt it. But thinking about it, you shouldn’t be such a girl, should you?” A grin tugged his lips up, and his eyes lowered to fix onto Alex’s lips. “Then again, you are the woman in this relationship.” Tucking into himself, Jack leant forward, pressing his nose to the side of the other’s face, closing his eyes as his hands crept underneath Alex’s thin shirt. Inching closer to the other boy, whose face was still inclined away from him, he took his chin and turned it toward him, planning on biting his lip, he leant forward…
And then there was a hand on his face. The soft slap of skin against skin sounded as Alex’s hand connected with Jack’s face, nose squashed underneath his palm as his supposedly seductive move was stopped dead.
“I don’t think so. You can’t make a move on me to try and soften me up, Bara-kitten.” Alex stated, letting his voice drop into a tone of disapproval. But Jack could see the lust in his eyes as his hands slipped down a little further, fingers hooking through the loops in his jeans and pulling him closer.
“Oh, really? Are you sure about that?” Jack grinned, seeing the flicker of something else in the ever darkening eyes of the boy tantalisingly close to him. Inches away. He could feel Alex’s breath wash over his face, the sweet, sticky scent of cola and desire like fire in his veins. The room was pitch black apart from the ghostly light of the moon that defined the features of the room, including the glint of Alex’s eyes, the cheekbones that screamed bite me, and the way his lips curved upward suggestively. Shifting so that he straddled the other boy, Jack removed the cola can from his fingers and placed it down on the coffee table, before returning to Alex and murmuring into his ear.
“You wanna make a bet on it?” He whispered, lips brushing the soft skin of his ear, breath tickling the nerves on his neck that he knew was a major turn on for the other. He could feel a problem tightening in his jeans himself. Alex’s breath hitched, his hands lifting to rest on Jack’s prominent hip bones, the slightest sliver of white skin exposed in the moonlight, stripped of all colour. Alex considered the boy that straddled him, eyes glimmering in the dim light, hormones raging. He frowned, Jack's behaviour had been fluctuating over the past week. He took in the darkness in his eyes and the need that shaped his lips as they pressed to Alex's neck. He refrained a moan, because yeah, he would be lying if he said that this wasn't good. It was more than good. But Jack had been wanting more of this recently, the lust that changed his facial expression all too common, his body clamouring for more attention that he'd ever wanted before.
The thought was overwhelmed as Jack bit into his collar bone, and he felt his hips rut upwards, his head rolling back. Damn. Whatever the reason, however much attention Jack wanted, he wasn't going to complain.
“You know I’m a gambling man, I’ve lost too many bets to you before.” He paused, leaning forward to press a quick, taunting kiss to Jack’s lips, teeth grazing his bottom lip ever so; teasing him, leading him on. “And this is one I’m all too happy to lose.”
He chuckled, one hand slipping down to rest on Jack’s thigh as he locked their lips once more, trailing his tongue over Jack’s lip as he deepened the kiss, pressing harder as the hushed moan that vibrated in Jack’s throat went straight to the problem tenting in his jeans.
----
“Rian, care to explain what the fuck these are?” Zack questioned, holding up a pair of black, silky kitten ears, expression twisted into something in between disbelief and a strange amusement. Rian fell backwards from pulling down a box from a cobweb laden storage shelf a moment later, flinging fairy wings, bits of old tinsel and cardboard boxes from him as the contents emptied themselves onto the floor. He frowned playfully, and stepped forward to snatch the ears from Zack’s fingers.
“They’re part of my Halloween costume. And I’ll thank you not to go rooting through my personal things; you don’t see me fishing around, trying to ruin the surprise of Halloween, do you?” He slammed the ears down on the table next to him, fighting a smirk as Zack raised his eyebrows and ran a hand through his brown hair.
“That’s ‘cause I’ve already got the main part of my costume on, bro,” he said, curling his arms to flex the muscles that bulged there, skin taut and corded. He brought a hand to slap down onto one of his arms, grinning at the vaguely uninterested glance Rian threw him. “You’d look pretty stupid trying to root through these beauties.”
The pride that tainted his voice left a smile on his face, and shifted his body language until his shoulders were bolt upright, spine rigid as he considered just how much better he looked now. He felt good, actually. The desire to make sure that Rian knew just how hard he'd worked to get this body overtook him for a second, before he shook himself. What?
He dodged as Rian threw a pair of plastic, children’s cowboy boots at him, the blunt, yellow spurs bouncing off the opposite wall of the loft. Zack laughed, returning to taking down the dusty boxes that littered the cramped space and trying to find something vaguely related to the occasion looming just around the corner. Halloween. One of his favourite holiday festivals. The one night where dressing up like a complete kid was still acceptable in the adult world.
“So, you expecting some sort of company any time soon?” He held back the laughter that bubbled in this throat. Rian’s expression blanked in innocent horror as he turned absently and his eyes fell on the white, lacy suspenders in Zack’s fingers, his friends eyebrows raised halfway up his forehead, lips quivering at the discomfort that overwhelmed the boy opposite him, standing on tiptoes to reach a box.
Scrambling over to Zack, tripping and stumbling over a movable train set on the way, Rian stuttered incoherently as he ripped the barely existent suspenders from his grasp. “Uh - I - I…Like fuck they’re mine…” Stuffing the silky whiteness back into one of the boxes, ensuring that plenty of other junk covered them, he looked back up to Zack, cheeks pink. “Probably my mum’s or something, gotta talk to her about that.” He muttered, hiding his face as he chucked the box into one of the far corners, and to break the faintly awkward atmosphere, he held up a loin cloth and cardboard club he’d found.
“This, or the sexy kitten ears?” He held up the loin cloth to his groin questioningly, pulling a pose and raising his eyebrows at Zack. Who’d, until then, had gnawed on his lip to stop grinning like a fool at how embarrassed Rian was, twiddling his nose ring absently and rifling through the heap of clothing in front of him, wiping away a spider’s web that dangled in front of his face. He spun round, catching his head on the bare light bulb that hung low on the ceiling, sending a fountain of dirt and dust cascading to the floor.
He grimaced at the potential nakedness if Rian wore the loin cloth as a Halloween costume. But then again, Rian had the body - there’d been way too many drunken flashes for any of the boys not to know what they all looked like with next to no clothes on. He considered this - what if Rian had a better body than him? Something screamed at him at such a thought, made him want to work harder, to prove himself and back up the pride that had him lie to his best friend.
“The loin cloth is a bit cheesy, but whatever floats your boat, man.” He paused, eyes glinting. “You could even wear those suspenders if you felt the need, I’m sure no one would complain.”
Laughing, he lifted his arms to deflect the soft blow that Rian threw at him, disgruntled expression a mask to cover the smile.
--
27th October
The obnoxious screech of the class bell attacked Jack’s ears. Rising from his seat he swung his bag onto his shoulder and frowned at the weather outside, it hadn’t stopped pouring with rain since this morning, the school grounds well and truly flooded, the puddles that coated the car park reflecting the angry sky that was oppressive, pushing down on the world below.
Pushing his way out of the room within the mass of bodies that clustered to get out of the tiny door, he flashed a toothy smile at a lighter-haired boy that signalled his presence by hooking a finger through the loop in his jeans and biting his shoulder lightly, white teeth nipping at the skin underneath his bright blue shirt. Jack took in the light brown hair that flopped over the other’s kind brown eyes that were crinkled around the edges from the smile that exposed his teeth. He had to admit, Alex looked hot today. Not that there was a day that he didn’t, but there was something else today in particular. The tight fitting blue and grey plaid shirt that hugged his slim frame complimented his skin complexion, and Jack bit his lip as he remembered how good Alex looked with no shirt on...Ugh. What was wrong with him? The black, drain-pipe jeans hung low on his hips, teasing him every so often by showing a strip of his blue boxers.
Falling out into the corridor, the usually blinding white hallway darkened by the gloomy atmosphere that hung around the school, the fingers that twined themselves into his were Alex’s own personal hello.
“Hey,” Jack smiled, squeezing the others fingers, the warmth sending sharp pangs of desire into his stomach. But that was just Alex. He had a way of undermining Jack’s every defence until he was a hopeless mess, unsure of anything else but the frustratingly perfect boy that held his hand, increasingly so over these last weeks, he'd noticed. They were at the lockers now, and the tenderness that was Alex’s fingers left his briefly, as they dumped anything they didn’t need into the cheap metal lockers that anyone could break into.
“You hear about the party this weekend? It’s at Joey’s place.” Alex slammed the door of his locker shut, stuffing his phone and keys into the nonexistent pockets in the front of his jeans. How he managed to fit anything into them was a mystery to Jack - he’d got a pair of jeans like that, the type that clung so tightly to his body they were like a second skin and left nothing to the imagination. Jack frowned.
“Isn’t he the guy who threw a punch at you at that massive party last term? You know, the one where someone got arrested.” He looked over his shoulder as he closed the door to his locker, his bag now considerably lighter as he flung it back onto his back. He saw the other boy’s face twist up into a careless smile, the faded memory triggering the almost egotistical laugh that set his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Jack just wanted to bite it.
“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled. “That kid was so pissed he couldn’t even stand up!” His fingers twirled a red lollipop that seemed to appear out of nowhere, before he unwrapped it, chucked the wrapper on the floor and popped the sweet into his mouth, rolling the flavour on his tongue. Jack tutted at the reckless glint in the brown eyes that followed his every move as he snapped the combination lock closed on his locker and scrolled the numbers randomly.
“You know, no one is going to waste their time trying to break into your locker. You don’t keep anything worth stealing in there,” Alex stated, shifting his weight to stand on one leg as he folded on arm over his chest and rested the elbow of the other as it twiddled the lolly in his mouth. Jack gave him a shove as he walked past, one side of his mouth tugging upwards. Because, damn, the boy was irritatingly cocky. Striding down the now empty corridor, he heard the scuffle of feet as Alex jogged to catch up and turned, and Jack had to smile at the petulant expression on his face, swinging his arms awkwardly and trying not to make it look like he was running at all, legs oddly stiff as he tried to keep up the bravado.
A punch on his right arm signified that he’d caught up, and the quiet pop of the lolly being removed from his mouth so that he could utter some sort of witty comeback only increased the smile on Jack’s face.
“You’re an arse, you know that? You made me run after you, in public.” An uncharacteristic scowl was set on his features, and Jack attempted to force a smile onto his lips.
Jack sighed. “Oh come on, that wasn’t even running. You looked like a paralyzed person that had discovered their body for the first time after some mind blowing treatment.” They walked down the corridor, grimacing at the relentless pounding on the roof as the rain lashed down still, both thinking that their hair would be ruined. But as they neared the end of the hallway, Alex grinned suddenly and threw himself out of the double doors that stood between them and the downpour, twisting as he did so to grin darkly at Jack.
“What…?” Jack muttered, shifting his bag higher up his shoulder and breaking into a reluctant jog, seeing the slim boy running out into the rain through the distorted glass as water ran down it. Pushing the left side of the door open, the sound of rain pummelling the ground hit his ears, along with the sound of childish laughter, of someone who was enjoying themselves doing something thoroughly inappropriate.
It only took him a second to see Alex. He was drenched, water streaming from the hair that was plastered to his face and soaked through, the white in his shirt going transparent from the water. Glancing up toward the skies Jack groaned; there was nothing but an angry turmoil of grey, purple and black clouds. This wasn’t going to let up any time soon. His head jerked down at the sound of his name being called, distant through the howling of the wind and the hissing rain.
“Jack, come here!” Alex laughed, jumping in a puddle that reached half-way up his feet, the dirty water splashing in all directions and eliciting an even more childish laugh from the boy. Jack shucked off his rucksack and put it over his head, ducking from underneath the ledge of the school and into the rain. He winced as the fat, heavy drops pummelled his skin, ice cold and drenching his clothes immediately, despite his makeshift protection.
“Alex, let’s go! You’re soaking!” But Jack’s calls fell on deaf ears. Alex was far too preoccupied to care about what state he was in, and as Jack neared he saw just how wet the boy was, and how wet he himself was becoming. Water clung to his thick black eyelashes, and ran in rivulets down his skin and made him look, in Jack’s honest opinion, freaking hot. His white teeth flashed through the rain, hands grabbing at Jack’s arm and hauling the bag from over his head and dragging him around in circles, laughing at the sheer stupidity of what they were doing. Alex ran off, converse sending water splashing over Jack as he kicked the surface water in his direction.
“Fuck, Alex!” Jack cried as the cold water seeped through the material of his shirt, the hems of his jeans already soaked through, the water climbing his legs steadily. Alex just laughed harder, and suddenly, despite the fact that he was covered in goose-bumps, his hair was almost black it was so wet and was all over the place, he was even more beautiful. The radiance that oozed from his body was infectious, and Jack found himself kicking water back at the other boy, grinning and laughing without a care for the fact that they were at the age that was considered ‘adult’, and yet were fooling around in the pouring rain. Which trickled down Jack’s face from his hair, which he swiped to the side to keep out of his eyes. His clothes were beyond water logged, his t-shirt hung from his body as the material was weighed down by the moisture in the fibres, his jeans constricting around his legs as they got progressively wetter, and his toes probably looked like prunes.
But right now, he didn’t care. Blinking against the rain that slanted angrily, he saw Alex run off and away from him, light on his feet as he twisted and skipped every other step to see whether Jack was following.
Alex stoop up on tip toes and cupped his hands around his mouth, lips forming words that reached him a moment later, distant. “Catch me if you can!” Jack smiled. The game was immature and simple at the best of times - it had also always been their favourite to play in unsuitable weather since they were children. Lurching into a sprint, Jack bent his head and pumped his arms to try and catch the dangerously nimble boy, whose eyes widened with glee as they saw he’d taken the bait, and a smile pulled his lips up as he turned and danced out of the way. Alex moved backwards, switching directions expertly, taunting Jack by keeping still until the last possible moment and then bounding off somewhere else. He’d always won this game when they were kids. Jack’s feet slapped down noisily in the deepening puddles, rainwater saturating his jeans as it splashed up at him, eyes locked on the boy whose form was slipped out of his grasp, dodging this way and that as they laughed. And then Jack caught him by surprise. Feigning a right step, as soon as he saw Alex bounce left, he switched, moving fast and lunging forward toward the left. Shock widened Alex’s already glass-like eyes as Jack’s arms closed around him, a triumphant yell sounding above the crashing thunder.
“Alright, alright, you win,” Alex squirmed, elation written all over his face as he wriggled within Jack’s grasp, numb fingers slipping as they tried to lose the hands from around his waist. After a moment, he gave up, instead sagging into the taller boy, grateful for the warmth of his body. The rain still sheeted down, but for the minute that was forgotten. Alex lifted his head, eyes seeking the chocolate ones that smiled down at him. “You’ve never won before,” he marvelled, before a playful smirk ghosted across his face. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the pale skin at Jack’s neck, feeling the droplets of rain burst on his lips. Jack hummed in response, arms tightening around him, his sodden plaid shirt bunching up and his fingers trailed over the skin in the curve of Alex’s spine.
“Does that mean I win something?” Jack saw the glint in the dark brown eyes that were locked onto his lips, eyes following the curves as words shaped them. Alex wrestled a hand free and wrapped it around his neck, fingers twining themselves through the thick strands of soaking hair, brushing lightly at the skin at the nape of his neck.
“Not sure,” Alex pondered, deliberately dragging the moment out. To make Jack want it more. “That depends if I’m in a charitable mood or not.” He jutted his chin forward slightly, teasing, nose brushing Jack’s and he saw how the other’s eyes lidded slightly in anticipation. The hands on his spine pressed Alex harder into Jack, drawing him closer.
“And are you?” A gentle hum reverberated in Jack’s throat. Damn it, he hated how Alex knew how to wrap him around his little finger, and how easily Jack gave in. But in all honesty, who could blame him? Alex was the hottest guy at school, hands down. The easy smile that graced Alex’s face answered the question for him. He shifted in Jack’s arms, before standing up on tip toe to connect their lips, hesitant and leaving each craving the other. Jack immediately deepened the kiss, swiping his tongue across the bottom of Alex’s, asking for entrance. Alex complied, mouth opening slightly to let Jack run his tongue along the roof of Alex’s mouth, earning himself a sigh that ended in a soft moan from the other boy. The rain only intensified the tastes and sensations from the kiss, trebling the sweet, indescribable flavour that was Alex and igniting little sparks all over his body from the numbing cold.
Then he noticed just how cold each of them were. Subtle tremors ran down the length of Alex’s body, hands fisting more urgently into Jack’s hair to press their bodies closer together. He was shaking himself, body trembling as his muscles tried to generate warmth. Sweetening the kiss, Jack pulled back, pressing his lips to Alex’s once more. Alex pecked his lips to Jack’s nose, eyes hazy and lidded. Jack was pleased to see that the deep frown that set his eyes ablaze was gone, replaced instead by an ignorant bliss.
“We should go, you’re freezing.” Jack rubbed circles into Alex’s back. Alex pouted, despite the fact that his lips were now tinted with blue.
“Stop thinking about me, in case you hadn’t noticed you’re shaking like a leaf too.” The boy leaned backward, hands pressing to Jack’s chest as his eyes stared hard into Jack’s. Then he seemed to think of something, eyes brightening. “My mum’s out tonight, something about work. You could come over?” He quirked an eyebrow, daring Jack to say no.
He laughed. “When have I ever said no to that?”
“Just checking; one day, you will.” Alex stated, removing himself from Jack’s arms and taking hold of his cold fingers.
“I doubt that.” Jack murmured as they began the walk to Alex’s house, ignoring the rain that continued to pour. They were already wet, what did it matter?
-----
28th October
They were all sat in the cafeteria; Alex, Jack, Rian and Zack. Alex swivelled on the plastic stools that were bolted to the table, boredom setting in as he remembered that today was the day where they had to sit and do nothing for two hours. He swung around aimlessly, pushing himself around using the table every time he lost momentum.
“Alex, just concentrate for thirty seconds at least, will you?” Rian snapped, agitated that it was Thursday already, and they still hadn’t decided what they were doing for Halloween on the Sunday. He couldn't help but glance at the horridly tender expression on Jack's face as he watched the other boy, something shifting in his chest to raise its ugly head.
Sure, they’d all come up with ideas for costumes and the fanciful idea that someone would have a free house, but nothing had come up yet. Only rumours. Numerous voices echoed in the large room, bouncing off the walls and interfering with each conversation that was taking place. Zack fiddled with the pen that he had used to write down their potential plan with, but since no one had suggested anything substantial yet, the piece of paper in front of him remained blank. But then Jack stirred, voice breaking the uncomfortable silence like a knife.
“What about the party that Alex heart about?” He focused his attention to the boy who was still swinging himself in circles, knees tucked up to avoid hitting the table and allowing for a seamless rotation. Jack waited, eyebrows raised, staring. “Alex…Alex?” Nothing. “Alex!” That got him. With a start, Alex flinched so hard he nearly fell of his seat as his legs flung out to stop him rotating at precisely the wrong moment. His feet tangled in the under-workings of the table, and he threw his hands down to stop himself from landing on the floor. Eyes wide, he stared blankly at the three faces that were directed at him.
“Did someone say something?” His expression was blank, an empty canvas that gradually intensified to portray confusion when no one said anything. He rephrased his question. “Did someone say something, to me?” Jack sighed.
“That party you heard about, where was it?”
“Joey’s place, but it wasn’t definite or anything, just a rumour that his parents were out for the weekend.” Alex shrugged, eyes glancing to the large clock face on the wall and suppressed a groan. Another hour and ten minutes yet. Zack piped up, gaze lifting from the pen that he twirled in his fingers.
“We’ll make it definite. If enough people hear about it, he’ll have to throw it,” Zack shrugged, impressed at how this made his arms look even bigger. “Makes sense, I know I would.” Rian nodded his head; expression one of agreement, running a hand over his buzz cut hair. Jack hummed in agreement, before glancing over to Alex, saying,
“You down for that? I mean, it’s Halloween right. We gotta do something.”
Alex nodded, pounding a fist on the table. “Any excuse to get shitfaced, my friend, any excuse. And what’s more, we can get shitfaced looking like complete whores!” Bringing an arm up, he punched the air, hissing a “yes” in mock triumph. The rest of them laughed.
“It’s not like you need a reason to dress up like a whore, Alex. We know you’d do that without being asked.” Rian shot, smirking as Alex snapped his head to glare at him, expression set into his characteristic stare. That everyone could see through.
“Bitch, just cause you’re jealous.” Alex raised his eyebrows, pushing himself up from the table and leaving, walking slowly past them.
Jack called out. “Where you going?”
“I’m telling this Joey that he’s throwing a party whether he likes it or not,” Alex fired back over his shoulder as he shoved his hands deep into the tubular pocket on the front of his hoody and casting his eyes around to find the kid whose house they were going to crash. Picking out his bright blonde hair amongst the blacks and browns, Alex walked over casually to their table. But something shifted in the atmosphere as he drew closer. It wasn’t to do with anyone but the five people that sat around the table he was headed for, something tying his stomach in knots as each step felt heavy, final. He frowned, looking around himself, slowing his pace. Nothing had changed. People talked and laughed loudly around him, taking no notice of his presence. It was just him that suddenly felt weird.
His feet continued to carry him forward, despite the anxiousness that gnawed at his insides and the sudden confused apprehension that had his teeth tugging at his lip. But then he shook himself. He’d talked to these guys before, there was nothing to feel anxious about. So why did he?
But the internal conversation he held with himself was interrupted as a girl looked up, black eyes a furnace of indescribable emotion, brown hair cut into a short, precise bob. Too precise. Nevertheless, he lodged a lazy half-smile on his face and stood casually, directing his attention to the blonde haired boy.
“You still throwing that party for Halloween?” The timing was perfect. This was the last day of term before the half term kicked in, which allowed time to recover from the killer hangover he was likely to self-inflict. Regardless of whether he was wasted at a party filled with loads of people, or just drank himself into oblivion with his best friends. Either way, he didn’t plan on remembering much of this weekend. He rested a hand on the table easily, swallowing the cloud of nausea that twisted his gut. Why did he feel like this?
Joey smiled, teeth glistening. “Sure. My parents are out, and Halloween is a good excuse to throw a party I guess.” Alex tried to smile wider, but failed. Instead he disguised his discomfort as a cough, and shifted.
“Good man. We’ll be there, Sunday night.” Turning on his heels, the black cloud that festered in his head lessened the further away he walked, an anxious frown creasing his forehead. He tried to tell himself that he hadn’t seen the blonde guy throw a silently pleased look at his friend as Alex turned. He tried.
He didn’t know what was getting into him. He’d never been one to worry about something as ridiculous, and imaginative as he was now. Paranoia had never bothered him before - if he asked anyone, they would probably say there were too many times where they had wanted to put a bullet in him to try and elicit a reaction.
So what was it that worried him? Why was he making such a big deal out of going to this damn party? It was Halloween. He loved this time of year, ever since he could remember. And he would be with the three best friends he could ask for, one of which happened to be his long term boyfriend. Vast amounts of alcohol was going to be consumed, and actions that were dismissed because they were teenagers and drunk would no doubt happen. A good time. Fun.
So why was his stomach doing back flips, telling him that this was a bad idea?
-------
29th October
The crunch of tires on gravel sounded, and Alex leapt up, eager to push aside the unease in his mind. Jogging to the door, distracted, he grabbed the door handle and cranked it down to let the person in. It was Jack. The surprise that fought to raise his eyebrows towards the fact that Jack was actually early to practice for once was diluted, the unsettling dread that had sat in the pit of his stomach since yesterday leaking into his movements. He shifted uncomfortably, hands jerking to wipe nervously on his jeans, then lifted to twine around themselves nervously a moment later. Jack raised an eyebrow as he stepped inside.
“You alright, Alex? Looking a little tense there.” Alex tried to smile, but his face felt stiff, like it was made of china that cracked under façade. Then he decided to tell the truth, there was no point in trying to hide something from Jack.
“Yeah, I’m alright…I just - I don’t think this party on Sunday is a good idea.” He confessed, averting his eyes because the look that Jack was giving really wasn’t helping. He hated how much of a paranoid recluse he felt. But something just, told him that maybe they should skip this one. Just this once.
As expected, Jack laughed, ruffling Alex’s hair playfully. Which just made Alex feel even more pathetic, like a child whose earnest words that were overlooked. Anger flamed in his stomach as the thought tainted his mind - but he felt like the thought wasn't his. Like it had been put their to deliberately antagonise him.
Jack laughed, however. “Why not, you said yourself that this was an excuse to behave like the immature children we are at heart.” Stepping aside to walk past him, Jack shifted the guitar case higher up on his back, and turned around when he didn’t hear Alex behind him.
“You coming?”
Alex stopped tearing his bottom lip apart with his teeth, frowning down at the floor from the weight of his worries. This was ridiculous. He shook himself and walked past Jack to reach the basement, flicking the light at the top of stairs on before descending into the room that had so far withstood their practising. Taking hold of the strap of his guitar he slung it over his shoulder and began strumming absently, needing get rid of the anxiety that was driving him mad. It was so unlike him. The minutes passed sluggishly, neither of the boys bothering to fill the silence that filled the room and blocked out all else - but it was comfortable. No tension. Well, not between them anyway. Alex’s fingers were robotic as he strummed, making up something on the spot and trying to forget the unease that had him glanced over to Jack every so often, checking that he was still there.
He felt like screaming. Taking this horrid worry and throwing into words that would let it slip away until he could think about something else. The bad mood that suddenly descended had him strum a little harder.
The creak of floorboards upstairs alerted him to the fact that Rian and Zack had arrived, the undertones of their voices leaking through to the basement. Alex gripped the neck of his guitar tighter, eager to just begin and lose himself in the music that his neighbours protested at furiously. All the more reason to play that little louder. The voices sounded closer now, and he turned to see the remaining two that made up their foursome coming down the stairs, Zack holding his bass guitar and Rian armed with his favourite drumsticks.
Alex turned back to the microphone that was placed on the stand, trying fruitlessly to erase the slight frown that puckered the space between his eyebrows.
-
Practise was going smoothly. Alex would strum something that felt good, and ask Jack to copy it, whilst Alex added notes here and there as he went, fingers working over the strings seamlessly as a pattern formed in his head. Words soon followed, teased from thin air as they fit into the abundance of noise perfectly, the steady rhythm of Zack’s bass and Rian on the drums keeping it moving.
But Alex was struggling with the lyrics. As the minutes turned into hours, each song that felt like it could get somewhere was stopped dead as Alex’s fingers froze on the strings, words morphing from the innocent into something darker. Each time he started something new, he found himself sinking further down into the worry, and the fabricated images that pained the inside walls of his head. Anger and frustration built up as he shook his head again, hearing the words that shaped his lips and how the sound emitting from his guitar progressed into the folds of something sinister.
“Stop,” he said. “Stop!” He repeated when the sound he didn’t like continued. Moving away from the microphone, Alex threw his hands up and cupped them behind his head, annoyed with himself. His gaze was met by three other pairs of eyes, shadowed by three identical frowns.
“What’s up, Gaskarth?” Rian asked, stilling the trembling cymbal with his fingers, resting the hand with the drumsticks in on the skin of one drum. His expression was tainted, words hinting at something that lay underneath the use of his surname. Jack placed his fingers over the strings on his guitar to silence the thrumming, Zack leaving base to hang from his shoulders, shoulders straightening, as if to size everyone up. Which was an odd notion, because Zack was normally the quietest in the group.
Alex picked up a spare pick and threw it, frowning at how he couldn’t answer. “I don’t know, do I?” He swung around, running his hands through his hair and rubbing his temples. “Nothing I play feels, right. It’s all just merging into one confused mess.”
Jack whispered over his shoulder to Rian, “Alex is worried about this party.”
Alex spun around, snarling. “Way to make me sound paranoid, Jack.” Then his eyes widened, hands lifting again to rub his face. “Sorry…I just don’t feel myself.” Zack shifted on the spot, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Maybe we should just leave practise today, if it’s not going right. Everyone has off days,” he shrugged when Alex’s eyes fell on his, desperate to keep the peace. But then Rian butted in.
“Yeah, then if Alex wants to be paranoid he can do so, on his own.” Although it was said jokingly, the words irritated something in the pit of Alex’s stomach, the word paranoid grating against his skin.
He swung his arms angrily, voice breaking into a shout, trying to emphasise his point. “I’m not fucking paranoid, alright! I don’t know why but I don’t feel sure about this party. Don’t ask me why because I don’t fucking know!” Gritting his teeth, he curled his fist and held the neck of his guitar to stop it leaping around, as he spun around and kicked down the microphone, frustration ripping at his throat.
Alex realised how loud his voice was, unsure of where this anger had come from, what had caused him to be so sensitive to the most blasé of remarks. His hands were trembling, a malice he hadn't felt before narrowing his eyes.
Unable to look at any of them, he ripped the guitar from his shoulders and stormed to the stairs, pausing to say, “Let yourself out when you’re done.”
--------
A/N: so, i suppose this is alright. just hang in there, the second part gets better ;)
Author: wesaysummerrr
Rating: R
Pairing: Jalex
POV: Third
Summary: Just a little Halloween action for you guys, involving costumes, vast quantities of alcohol and things that go bump in the night ;)
Disclaimer: I don’t own these guys. This is completely fake…a little something I thought of, considering the time of year. Title belongs to All Time Low - Jasey Rae. Cut belongs to Escape The Fate - Gorgeous Nightmare.
Author Notes: okay, so this going to be a two-part Halloween fic. The next part will be posted later today - my pc froze last night so i didn't get a chance to link it, so this one just kind of sets the scene for it. Wonder if you can guess what's going on... haha. I really enjoyed writing this, so, happy reading you cheeky devils you.
here's my tumblr.
26th October
A singular shaft of moonlight glints through the window, curtains left undrawn, cold air blowing gently through the gap in the glass. The liquid silver oozed lazily over half of the minimalist living room, illuminating a beige material sofa, a polished mahogany coffee table that glimmered in the meagre light, and a boy, curled tightly into a ball on the far end of the sofa, wide eyes fixed on something opposite. The television. He was watching one of those stereotypically scary films that were always aired at this time of the year, filled with mind-numbingly fake costumes, appalling acting and a plot that could be recited without even laying eyes on the film.
But that didn’t seem to matter to this boy. He held a cushion up to his face, covering the silent ‘o’ that shaped his lips, mouth quivering as a further twist in the tale had his eyebrows shooting up his forehead, a muffled whimper loosing from his throat. The remains of a pizza lay discarded on the glass topped coffee table, crusts nibbled delicately and then thrown back into the grease-stained cardboard box, garlic sauce still sitting open. The sliding windows one side of the lounge led out into the pitch black garden, the golden patio just about visible in the limited light. It wasn’t quite a full moon, a small chunk from the right side was still missing - but it wouldn’t be long.
A louder gasp escaped from the boy this time, eyes dark and scared as they watched a menacing figure climb further toward the usual unsuspecting victim. He shifted in his seat, toes curling and fingers grasping at the soft cushion until his knuckles turned white. An owl screamed outside in the darkness, the call carrying on the barely existent breeze; the boy leapt from his skin and yelped “Fuck!” as his hands flinched to cover his head, eyes darting to the windows, a cold blackness glaring into his soul. He stared fruitlessly for a minute, features blank as he strained his ears to try and hear the imagined whisper of movement outside. Then his eyes were dragged back to the dark screen of the television, suddenly seeing the predicament and shouting at the character earnestly.
“NO! Don’t go in there you fucking idiot, that’s where they are!” An arm stretched out to try and stop the door that slowly opened on the screen, a drawn-out creak echoing in the otherwise silence. Oblivious to the presence that was heading straight for the boy’s house, he shrunk back into the malleable sofa, hiding behind the cushion that was rammed up against his face.
The dark figure that had been watching circled the house, moving from the front around to the back. The wooden fence was easy, a simple jump and a wrench of power, silent and stealthy. Gliding smoothly over the pristine grass, the shape crept ever closer, target in sight, focused. The owl took off, startled as the cry of something larger called out into the night, the cold night air’s fingers trailing over his skin, raising the hairs there and swirling in dense plumes from his mouth. He was nearly there now, footsteps seamless as they slid over the patio, a crooked grin of anticipation twisting his facial features. Just another heartbeat and he was outside the full-length windows, muscles tense as pent up excitement had him quivering on the spot.
A ghastly scene was playing on the television, the boy absorbed entirely, form leaning forward as he stared, unable to tear his eyes away and yet repulsed at the sounds that filled his ears. Fingers kneaded the cushion absently, the tension setting his breathing rapid and shallow, the delicate hairs on his arms standing on end. The girl was running down the black corridor, walls closing in on her terrified face, having just witnessed the gruesome murder of her best friend. But something was coming, sliding and rustling in the blackness, always in the edge of her vision, scared eyes snapping over her shoulder as it got closer, closer and closer…
The sharp BANG! of something connecting with the window had the boy screaming, body lurching and jolting in fright as the blood-curdling yell pierced the silence that showed the room, mind reacting before he’d had a chance to think, adrenaline pumping in his veins. A split second later and he stood facing the windows, eyes black from the size of his dilated pupils. His arms twisted into a position that was meant to be self-defensive, hair sticking up in all directions and swept partially over his eyes. His voice cracked and shook as it squeaked past the lump obstructing his throat.
“W-who’s there?” The question was useless; he was alone in the house. And he didn’t think anyone would be able to hear him from the other side of the glass. Lowering his trembling hands and wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, he tip- toed forward, toes sticking to the linoleum flooring as he swiped his tongue over his lips nervously.
Looking out into the garden behind the window he pressed a hand up against the cold glass, a small steam cloud obscuring the glass as it hit, fingers leaving small ovals of condensation. His eyes flickered around the expanse of garden that he could see, breathing coming in shallow gasps.
A face was suddenly staring back at him. Jumping backward and stumbling, another yell tore up his throat as shock stopped his heart for a beat, and then lurched it back into life. It took him several moments to recognise the dark features that now grinned sloppily at him, eyes two midnight pools of glee.
“Holy shit,” the lighter haired boy muttered, wiping a hand over his face limply from the intensity of the emotions that stressed his systems. Stepping closer to the window again, he paused before grabbing the cushion that lay on the floor and hurling it at the double-glazed window, happy to see how the other figure jumped back a little, a distorted, single-syllable laugh leaking through the glass. The light-haired boy stepped back over the window and wrenched the handle so that the window slid back with a mournful groan, glass vibrating as it moved.
“You’re a fucking prick, you know that?” The light-haired boy commented, eyes narrowing as the tall, dark-haired boy stepped inside and slipped past him, devilish smile revealing a flash of white teeth, eyes locked onto the half-eaten pizza.
“You love it,” the darker slung back, picking up one of the slices of pizza and cramming it in his mouth, standing to face the other. Who was now pulling the window closed again, but stopped as another rustle sounded outside. He stared for a moment, eyes trained on one particular spot that the moonlight couldn’t reach, the light intensifying the blackness that created images in his head.
“Alex?”
The light-haired boy, Alex, jumped. He turned his head, eyes locked outside until they were practically dragged round to glance at the other boy, mouth full of pizza, eyebrows drawing upwards.
“Mmh?” Alex was distant, frowning. Maybe it was just his mind playing games with him, but the rustle sounded distinctly, human. The other boy flicked the channel, music suddenly blasting out from the television and shaking the numerous cabinets and drawers that lined the walls of the living room.
“JACK! Turn it down, man!” Alex yelled over the screeching guitars and bellowing vocals, his voice lost in the madness. Jack turned to him once again, a questioning look gracing his features, the blonde-wedge of hair in his fringe obscuring his chocolate brown eyes. His hand was curled around the remote, arm outstretched from jabbing the black, square plastic object at the television vehemently, as though it wasn’t going to fulfil its purpose and actually change the channel. Alex yanked the window closed the rest of the way hurriedly, conscious that his neighbours would happily take the garden shovel to him in the morning for disturbing their night’s sleep.
“Turn it down!” Alex bellowed, elbowing Jack out of the way and shoving him onto the cushion, pressing the volume button furiously until the deafening, whining voice screaming out transformed into nothing more than background noise, the guitars and pounding drums reduced to something easily overlooked. Chucking the remote onto the other boy’s stomach with a tut and a playfully disgusted look, Alex bounded over to the glass covered cabinets to check that none of his parents possessions had crumbled to dust from the outburst from Scuzz. He swallowed as he saw a crack in one of his mother’s china plates, the small plate having jumped off its stand and now lay at the bottom of the cabinet. He thought it best she didn’t know. Opening the cabinet slowly to stop everything just falling down on him, he removed the plate and stepped over to the kitchen window that was half open, thin lace curtains blowing in the faint breeze. Peering out to ensure that there were no god forsaken neighbours curtain-twitching - it was late Tuesday evening, and most of his neighbours were arrogantly nosey - he heaved himself up onto the counter and clambered over the sink as best he could, swearing as his funny bone connected with the faucet.
Leaning his upper body fully out of the window, he drew his arm back and lobbed the small china plate as far as he could, smiling contentedly as it frisbee’d over several fences and dropped down into one of his notoriously troublesome neighbours garden. If it was found, there was always someone else that could be blamed.
As he dropped down from the counter, he caught Jack’s expression as he lay on the sofa where Alex had pushed him. The lighter haired boy shrugged.
“If you ever say anything about that, I will deny it.” he pointed a finger at Jack, grabbing a can of coke and kicking aside Jack’s long legs, sitting with a ‘huff’ onto the sofa. “You know, I’m gonna get you for what you did tonight.” He flicked his eyes sideways, trying not to smirk as he took a swig from the can, eyes narrowing as his nose tingled from the carbon in the drink. He swallowed quickly, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat.
Jack only smiled innocently before he nudged his toes into Alex’s ribs, and trying to clamber closer. “I doubt it. But thinking about it, you shouldn’t be such a girl, should you?” A grin tugged his lips up, and his eyes lowered to fix onto Alex’s lips. “Then again, you are the woman in this relationship.” Tucking into himself, Jack leant forward, pressing his nose to the side of the other’s face, closing his eyes as his hands crept underneath Alex’s thin shirt. Inching closer to the other boy, whose face was still inclined away from him, he took his chin and turned it toward him, planning on biting his lip, he leant forward…
And then there was a hand on his face. The soft slap of skin against skin sounded as Alex’s hand connected with Jack’s face, nose squashed underneath his palm as his supposedly seductive move was stopped dead.
“I don’t think so. You can’t make a move on me to try and soften me up, Bara-kitten.” Alex stated, letting his voice drop into a tone of disapproval. But Jack could see the lust in his eyes as his hands slipped down a little further, fingers hooking through the loops in his jeans and pulling him closer.
“Oh, really? Are you sure about that?” Jack grinned, seeing the flicker of something else in the ever darkening eyes of the boy tantalisingly close to him. Inches away. He could feel Alex’s breath wash over his face, the sweet, sticky scent of cola and desire like fire in his veins. The room was pitch black apart from the ghostly light of the moon that defined the features of the room, including the glint of Alex’s eyes, the cheekbones that screamed bite me, and the way his lips curved upward suggestively. Shifting so that he straddled the other boy, Jack removed the cola can from his fingers and placed it down on the coffee table, before returning to Alex and murmuring into his ear.
“You wanna make a bet on it?” He whispered, lips brushing the soft skin of his ear, breath tickling the nerves on his neck that he knew was a major turn on for the other. He could feel a problem tightening in his jeans himself. Alex’s breath hitched, his hands lifting to rest on Jack’s prominent hip bones, the slightest sliver of white skin exposed in the moonlight, stripped of all colour. Alex considered the boy that straddled him, eyes glimmering in the dim light, hormones raging. He frowned, Jack's behaviour had been fluctuating over the past week. He took in the darkness in his eyes and the need that shaped his lips as they pressed to Alex's neck. He refrained a moan, because yeah, he would be lying if he said that this wasn't good. It was more than good. But Jack had been wanting more of this recently, the lust that changed his facial expression all too common, his body clamouring for more attention that he'd ever wanted before.
The thought was overwhelmed as Jack bit into his collar bone, and he felt his hips rut upwards, his head rolling back. Damn. Whatever the reason, however much attention Jack wanted, he wasn't going to complain.
“You know I’m a gambling man, I’ve lost too many bets to you before.” He paused, leaning forward to press a quick, taunting kiss to Jack’s lips, teeth grazing his bottom lip ever so; teasing him, leading him on. “And this is one I’m all too happy to lose.”
He chuckled, one hand slipping down to rest on Jack’s thigh as he locked their lips once more, trailing his tongue over Jack’s lip as he deepened the kiss, pressing harder as the hushed moan that vibrated in Jack’s throat went straight to the problem tenting in his jeans.
----
“Rian, care to explain what the fuck these are?” Zack questioned, holding up a pair of black, silky kitten ears, expression twisted into something in between disbelief and a strange amusement. Rian fell backwards from pulling down a box from a cobweb laden storage shelf a moment later, flinging fairy wings, bits of old tinsel and cardboard boxes from him as the contents emptied themselves onto the floor. He frowned playfully, and stepped forward to snatch the ears from Zack’s fingers.
“They’re part of my Halloween costume. And I’ll thank you not to go rooting through my personal things; you don’t see me fishing around, trying to ruin the surprise of Halloween, do you?” He slammed the ears down on the table next to him, fighting a smirk as Zack raised his eyebrows and ran a hand through his brown hair.
“That’s ‘cause I’ve already got the main part of my costume on, bro,” he said, curling his arms to flex the muscles that bulged there, skin taut and corded. He brought a hand to slap down onto one of his arms, grinning at the vaguely uninterested glance Rian threw him. “You’d look pretty stupid trying to root through these beauties.”
The pride that tainted his voice left a smile on his face, and shifted his body language until his shoulders were bolt upright, spine rigid as he considered just how much better he looked now. He felt good, actually. The desire to make sure that Rian knew just how hard he'd worked to get this body overtook him for a second, before he shook himself. What?
He dodged as Rian threw a pair of plastic, children’s cowboy boots at him, the blunt, yellow spurs bouncing off the opposite wall of the loft. Zack laughed, returning to taking down the dusty boxes that littered the cramped space and trying to find something vaguely related to the occasion looming just around the corner. Halloween. One of his favourite holiday festivals. The one night where dressing up like a complete kid was still acceptable in the adult world.
“So, you expecting some sort of company any time soon?” He held back the laughter that bubbled in this throat. Rian’s expression blanked in innocent horror as he turned absently and his eyes fell on the white, lacy suspenders in Zack’s fingers, his friends eyebrows raised halfway up his forehead, lips quivering at the discomfort that overwhelmed the boy opposite him, standing on tiptoes to reach a box.
Scrambling over to Zack, tripping and stumbling over a movable train set on the way, Rian stuttered incoherently as he ripped the barely existent suspenders from his grasp. “Uh - I - I…Like fuck they’re mine…” Stuffing the silky whiteness back into one of the boxes, ensuring that plenty of other junk covered them, he looked back up to Zack, cheeks pink. “Probably my mum’s or something, gotta talk to her about that.” He muttered, hiding his face as he chucked the box into one of the far corners, and to break the faintly awkward atmosphere, he held up a loin cloth and cardboard club he’d found.
“This, or the sexy kitten ears?” He held up the loin cloth to his groin questioningly, pulling a pose and raising his eyebrows at Zack. Who’d, until then, had gnawed on his lip to stop grinning like a fool at how embarrassed Rian was, twiddling his nose ring absently and rifling through the heap of clothing in front of him, wiping away a spider’s web that dangled in front of his face. He spun round, catching his head on the bare light bulb that hung low on the ceiling, sending a fountain of dirt and dust cascading to the floor.
He grimaced at the potential nakedness if Rian wore the loin cloth as a Halloween costume. But then again, Rian had the body - there’d been way too many drunken flashes for any of the boys not to know what they all looked like with next to no clothes on. He considered this - what if Rian had a better body than him? Something screamed at him at such a thought, made him want to work harder, to prove himself and back up the pride that had him lie to his best friend.
“The loin cloth is a bit cheesy, but whatever floats your boat, man.” He paused, eyes glinting. “You could even wear those suspenders if you felt the need, I’m sure no one would complain.”
Laughing, he lifted his arms to deflect the soft blow that Rian threw at him, disgruntled expression a mask to cover the smile.
--
27th October
The obnoxious screech of the class bell attacked Jack’s ears. Rising from his seat he swung his bag onto his shoulder and frowned at the weather outside, it hadn’t stopped pouring with rain since this morning, the school grounds well and truly flooded, the puddles that coated the car park reflecting the angry sky that was oppressive, pushing down on the world below.
Pushing his way out of the room within the mass of bodies that clustered to get out of the tiny door, he flashed a toothy smile at a lighter-haired boy that signalled his presence by hooking a finger through the loop in his jeans and biting his shoulder lightly, white teeth nipping at the skin underneath his bright blue shirt. Jack took in the light brown hair that flopped over the other’s kind brown eyes that were crinkled around the edges from the smile that exposed his teeth. He had to admit, Alex looked hot today. Not that there was a day that he didn’t, but there was something else today in particular. The tight fitting blue and grey plaid shirt that hugged his slim frame complimented his skin complexion, and Jack bit his lip as he remembered how good Alex looked with no shirt on...Ugh. What was wrong with him? The black, drain-pipe jeans hung low on his hips, teasing him every so often by showing a strip of his blue boxers.
Falling out into the corridor, the usually blinding white hallway darkened by the gloomy atmosphere that hung around the school, the fingers that twined themselves into his were Alex’s own personal hello.
“Hey,” Jack smiled, squeezing the others fingers, the warmth sending sharp pangs of desire into his stomach. But that was just Alex. He had a way of undermining Jack’s every defence until he was a hopeless mess, unsure of anything else but the frustratingly perfect boy that held his hand, increasingly so over these last weeks, he'd noticed. They were at the lockers now, and the tenderness that was Alex’s fingers left his briefly, as they dumped anything they didn’t need into the cheap metal lockers that anyone could break into.
“You hear about the party this weekend? It’s at Joey’s place.” Alex slammed the door of his locker shut, stuffing his phone and keys into the nonexistent pockets in the front of his jeans. How he managed to fit anything into them was a mystery to Jack - he’d got a pair of jeans like that, the type that clung so tightly to his body they were like a second skin and left nothing to the imagination. Jack frowned.
“Isn’t he the guy who threw a punch at you at that massive party last term? You know, the one where someone got arrested.” He looked over his shoulder as he closed the door to his locker, his bag now considerably lighter as he flung it back onto his back. He saw the other boy’s face twist up into a careless smile, the faded memory triggering the almost egotistical laugh that set his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Jack just wanted to bite it.
“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled. “That kid was so pissed he couldn’t even stand up!” His fingers twirled a red lollipop that seemed to appear out of nowhere, before he unwrapped it, chucked the wrapper on the floor and popped the sweet into his mouth, rolling the flavour on his tongue. Jack tutted at the reckless glint in the brown eyes that followed his every move as he snapped the combination lock closed on his locker and scrolled the numbers randomly.
“You know, no one is going to waste their time trying to break into your locker. You don’t keep anything worth stealing in there,” Alex stated, shifting his weight to stand on one leg as he folded on arm over his chest and rested the elbow of the other as it twiddled the lolly in his mouth. Jack gave him a shove as he walked past, one side of his mouth tugging upwards. Because, damn, the boy was irritatingly cocky. Striding down the now empty corridor, he heard the scuffle of feet as Alex jogged to catch up and turned, and Jack had to smile at the petulant expression on his face, swinging his arms awkwardly and trying not to make it look like he was running at all, legs oddly stiff as he tried to keep up the bravado.
A punch on his right arm signified that he’d caught up, and the quiet pop of the lolly being removed from his mouth so that he could utter some sort of witty comeback only increased the smile on Jack’s face.
“You’re an arse, you know that? You made me run after you, in public.” An uncharacteristic scowl was set on his features, and Jack attempted to force a smile onto his lips.
Jack sighed. “Oh come on, that wasn’t even running. You looked like a paralyzed person that had discovered their body for the first time after some mind blowing treatment.” They walked down the corridor, grimacing at the relentless pounding on the roof as the rain lashed down still, both thinking that their hair would be ruined. But as they neared the end of the hallway, Alex grinned suddenly and threw himself out of the double doors that stood between them and the downpour, twisting as he did so to grin darkly at Jack.
“What…?” Jack muttered, shifting his bag higher up his shoulder and breaking into a reluctant jog, seeing the slim boy running out into the rain through the distorted glass as water ran down it. Pushing the left side of the door open, the sound of rain pummelling the ground hit his ears, along with the sound of childish laughter, of someone who was enjoying themselves doing something thoroughly inappropriate.
It only took him a second to see Alex. He was drenched, water streaming from the hair that was plastered to his face and soaked through, the white in his shirt going transparent from the water. Glancing up toward the skies Jack groaned; there was nothing but an angry turmoil of grey, purple and black clouds. This wasn’t going to let up any time soon. His head jerked down at the sound of his name being called, distant through the howling of the wind and the hissing rain.
“Jack, come here!” Alex laughed, jumping in a puddle that reached half-way up his feet, the dirty water splashing in all directions and eliciting an even more childish laugh from the boy. Jack shucked off his rucksack and put it over his head, ducking from underneath the ledge of the school and into the rain. He winced as the fat, heavy drops pummelled his skin, ice cold and drenching his clothes immediately, despite his makeshift protection.
“Alex, let’s go! You’re soaking!” But Jack’s calls fell on deaf ears. Alex was far too preoccupied to care about what state he was in, and as Jack neared he saw just how wet the boy was, and how wet he himself was becoming. Water clung to his thick black eyelashes, and ran in rivulets down his skin and made him look, in Jack’s honest opinion, freaking hot. His white teeth flashed through the rain, hands grabbing at Jack’s arm and hauling the bag from over his head and dragging him around in circles, laughing at the sheer stupidity of what they were doing. Alex ran off, converse sending water splashing over Jack as he kicked the surface water in his direction.
“Fuck, Alex!” Jack cried as the cold water seeped through the material of his shirt, the hems of his jeans already soaked through, the water climbing his legs steadily. Alex just laughed harder, and suddenly, despite the fact that he was covered in goose-bumps, his hair was almost black it was so wet and was all over the place, he was even more beautiful. The radiance that oozed from his body was infectious, and Jack found himself kicking water back at the other boy, grinning and laughing without a care for the fact that they were at the age that was considered ‘adult’, and yet were fooling around in the pouring rain. Which trickled down Jack’s face from his hair, which he swiped to the side to keep out of his eyes. His clothes were beyond water logged, his t-shirt hung from his body as the material was weighed down by the moisture in the fibres, his jeans constricting around his legs as they got progressively wetter, and his toes probably looked like prunes.
But right now, he didn’t care. Blinking against the rain that slanted angrily, he saw Alex run off and away from him, light on his feet as he twisted and skipped every other step to see whether Jack was following.
Alex stoop up on tip toes and cupped his hands around his mouth, lips forming words that reached him a moment later, distant. “Catch me if you can!” Jack smiled. The game was immature and simple at the best of times - it had also always been their favourite to play in unsuitable weather since they were children. Lurching into a sprint, Jack bent his head and pumped his arms to try and catch the dangerously nimble boy, whose eyes widened with glee as they saw he’d taken the bait, and a smile pulled his lips up as he turned and danced out of the way. Alex moved backwards, switching directions expertly, taunting Jack by keeping still until the last possible moment and then bounding off somewhere else. He’d always won this game when they were kids. Jack’s feet slapped down noisily in the deepening puddles, rainwater saturating his jeans as it splashed up at him, eyes locked on the boy whose form was slipped out of his grasp, dodging this way and that as they laughed. And then Jack caught him by surprise. Feigning a right step, as soon as he saw Alex bounce left, he switched, moving fast and lunging forward toward the left. Shock widened Alex’s already glass-like eyes as Jack’s arms closed around him, a triumphant yell sounding above the crashing thunder.
“Alright, alright, you win,” Alex squirmed, elation written all over his face as he wriggled within Jack’s grasp, numb fingers slipping as they tried to lose the hands from around his waist. After a moment, he gave up, instead sagging into the taller boy, grateful for the warmth of his body. The rain still sheeted down, but for the minute that was forgotten. Alex lifted his head, eyes seeking the chocolate ones that smiled down at him. “You’ve never won before,” he marvelled, before a playful smirk ghosted across his face. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the pale skin at Jack’s neck, feeling the droplets of rain burst on his lips. Jack hummed in response, arms tightening around him, his sodden plaid shirt bunching up and his fingers trailed over the skin in the curve of Alex’s spine.
“Does that mean I win something?” Jack saw the glint in the dark brown eyes that were locked onto his lips, eyes following the curves as words shaped them. Alex wrestled a hand free and wrapped it around his neck, fingers twining themselves through the thick strands of soaking hair, brushing lightly at the skin at the nape of his neck.
“Not sure,” Alex pondered, deliberately dragging the moment out. To make Jack want it more. “That depends if I’m in a charitable mood or not.” He jutted his chin forward slightly, teasing, nose brushing Jack’s and he saw how the other’s eyes lidded slightly in anticipation. The hands on his spine pressed Alex harder into Jack, drawing him closer.
“And are you?” A gentle hum reverberated in Jack’s throat. Damn it, he hated how Alex knew how to wrap him around his little finger, and how easily Jack gave in. But in all honesty, who could blame him? Alex was the hottest guy at school, hands down. The easy smile that graced Alex’s face answered the question for him. He shifted in Jack’s arms, before standing up on tip toe to connect their lips, hesitant and leaving each craving the other. Jack immediately deepened the kiss, swiping his tongue across the bottom of Alex’s, asking for entrance. Alex complied, mouth opening slightly to let Jack run his tongue along the roof of Alex’s mouth, earning himself a sigh that ended in a soft moan from the other boy. The rain only intensified the tastes and sensations from the kiss, trebling the sweet, indescribable flavour that was Alex and igniting little sparks all over his body from the numbing cold.
Then he noticed just how cold each of them were. Subtle tremors ran down the length of Alex’s body, hands fisting more urgently into Jack’s hair to press their bodies closer together. He was shaking himself, body trembling as his muscles tried to generate warmth. Sweetening the kiss, Jack pulled back, pressing his lips to Alex’s once more. Alex pecked his lips to Jack’s nose, eyes hazy and lidded. Jack was pleased to see that the deep frown that set his eyes ablaze was gone, replaced instead by an ignorant bliss.
“We should go, you’re freezing.” Jack rubbed circles into Alex’s back. Alex pouted, despite the fact that his lips were now tinted with blue.
“Stop thinking about me, in case you hadn’t noticed you’re shaking like a leaf too.” The boy leaned backward, hands pressing to Jack’s chest as his eyes stared hard into Jack’s. Then he seemed to think of something, eyes brightening. “My mum’s out tonight, something about work. You could come over?” He quirked an eyebrow, daring Jack to say no.
He laughed. “When have I ever said no to that?”
“Just checking; one day, you will.” Alex stated, removing himself from Jack’s arms and taking hold of his cold fingers.
“I doubt that.” Jack murmured as they began the walk to Alex’s house, ignoring the rain that continued to pour. They were already wet, what did it matter?
-----
28th October
They were all sat in the cafeteria; Alex, Jack, Rian and Zack. Alex swivelled on the plastic stools that were bolted to the table, boredom setting in as he remembered that today was the day where they had to sit and do nothing for two hours. He swung around aimlessly, pushing himself around using the table every time he lost momentum.
“Alex, just concentrate for thirty seconds at least, will you?” Rian snapped, agitated that it was Thursday already, and they still hadn’t decided what they were doing for Halloween on the Sunday. He couldn't help but glance at the horridly tender expression on Jack's face as he watched the other boy, something shifting in his chest to raise its ugly head.
Sure, they’d all come up with ideas for costumes and the fanciful idea that someone would have a free house, but nothing had come up yet. Only rumours. Numerous voices echoed in the large room, bouncing off the walls and interfering with each conversation that was taking place. Zack fiddled with the pen that he had used to write down their potential plan with, but since no one had suggested anything substantial yet, the piece of paper in front of him remained blank. But then Jack stirred, voice breaking the uncomfortable silence like a knife.
“What about the party that Alex heart about?” He focused his attention to the boy who was still swinging himself in circles, knees tucked up to avoid hitting the table and allowing for a seamless rotation. Jack waited, eyebrows raised, staring. “Alex…Alex?” Nothing. “Alex!” That got him. With a start, Alex flinched so hard he nearly fell of his seat as his legs flung out to stop him rotating at precisely the wrong moment. His feet tangled in the under-workings of the table, and he threw his hands down to stop himself from landing on the floor. Eyes wide, he stared blankly at the three faces that were directed at him.
“Did someone say something?” His expression was blank, an empty canvas that gradually intensified to portray confusion when no one said anything. He rephrased his question. “Did someone say something, to me?” Jack sighed.
“That party you heard about, where was it?”
“Joey’s place, but it wasn’t definite or anything, just a rumour that his parents were out for the weekend.” Alex shrugged, eyes glancing to the large clock face on the wall and suppressed a groan. Another hour and ten minutes yet. Zack piped up, gaze lifting from the pen that he twirled in his fingers.
“We’ll make it definite. If enough people hear about it, he’ll have to throw it,” Zack shrugged, impressed at how this made his arms look even bigger. “Makes sense, I know I would.” Rian nodded his head; expression one of agreement, running a hand over his buzz cut hair. Jack hummed in agreement, before glancing over to Alex, saying,
“You down for that? I mean, it’s Halloween right. We gotta do something.”
Alex nodded, pounding a fist on the table. “Any excuse to get shitfaced, my friend, any excuse. And what’s more, we can get shitfaced looking like complete whores!” Bringing an arm up, he punched the air, hissing a “yes” in mock triumph. The rest of them laughed.
“It’s not like you need a reason to dress up like a whore, Alex. We know you’d do that without being asked.” Rian shot, smirking as Alex snapped his head to glare at him, expression set into his characteristic stare. That everyone could see through.
“Bitch, just cause you’re jealous.” Alex raised his eyebrows, pushing himself up from the table and leaving, walking slowly past them.
Jack called out. “Where you going?”
“I’m telling this Joey that he’s throwing a party whether he likes it or not,” Alex fired back over his shoulder as he shoved his hands deep into the tubular pocket on the front of his hoody and casting his eyes around to find the kid whose house they were going to crash. Picking out his bright blonde hair amongst the blacks and browns, Alex walked over casually to their table. But something shifted in the atmosphere as he drew closer. It wasn’t to do with anyone but the five people that sat around the table he was headed for, something tying his stomach in knots as each step felt heavy, final. He frowned, looking around himself, slowing his pace. Nothing had changed. People talked and laughed loudly around him, taking no notice of his presence. It was just him that suddenly felt weird.
His feet continued to carry him forward, despite the anxiousness that gnawed at his insides and the sudden confused apprehension that had his teeth tugging at his lip. But then he shook himself. He’d talked to these guys before, there was nothing to feel anxious about. So why did he?
But the internal conversation he held with himself was interrupted as a girl looked up, black eyes a furnace of indescribable emotion, brown hair cut into a short, precise bob. Too precise. Nevertheless, he lodged a lazy half-smile on his face and stood casually, directing his attention to the blonde haired boy.
“You still throwing that party for Halloween?” The timing was perfect. This was the last day of term before the half term kicked in, which allowed time to recover from the killer hangover he was likely to self-inflict. Regardless of whether he was wasted at a party filled with loads of people, or just drank himself into oblivion with his best friends. Either way, he didn’t plan on remembering much of this weekend. He rested a hand on the table easily, swallowing the cloud of nausea that twisted his gut. Why did he feel like this?
Joey smiled, teeth glistening. “Sure. My parents are out, and Halloween is a good excuse to throw a party I guess.” Alex tried to smile wider, but failed. Instead he disguised his discomfort as a cough, and shifted.
“Good man. We’ll be there, Sunday night.” Turning on his heels, the black cloud that festered in his head lessened the further away he walked, an anxious frown creasing his forehead. He tried to tell himself that he hadn’t seen the blonde guy throw a silently pleased look at his friend as Alex turned. He tried.
He didn’t know what was getting into him. He’d never been one to worry about something as ridiculous, and imaginative as he was now. Paranoia had never bothered him before - if he asked anyone, they would probably say there were too many times where they had wanted to put a bullet in him to try and elicit a reaction.
So what was it that worried him? Why was he making such a big deal out of going to this damn party? It was Halloween. He loved this time of year, ever since he could remember. And he would be with the three best friends he could ask for, one of which happened to be his long term boyfriend. Vast amounts of alcohol was going to be consumed, and actions that were dismissed because they were teenagers and drunk would no doubt happen. A good time. Fun.
So why was his stomach doing back flips, telling him that this was a bad idea?
-------
29th October
The crunch of tires on gravel sounded, and Alex leapt up, eager to push aside the unease in his mind. Jogging to the door, distracted, he grabbed the door handle and cranked it down to let the person in. It was Jack. The surprise that fought to raise his eyebrows towards the fact that Jack was actually early to practice for once was diluted, the unsettling dread that had sat in the pit of his stomach since yesterday leaking into his movements. He shifted uncomfortably, hands jerking to wipe nervously on his jeans, then lifted to twine around themselves nervously a moment later. Jack raised an eyebrow as he stepped inside.
“You alright, Alex? Looking a little tense there.” Alex tried to smile, but his face felt stiff, like it was made of china that cracked under façade. Then he decided to tell the truth, there was no point in trying to hide something from Jack.
“Yeah, I’m alright…I just - I don’t think this party on Sunday is a good idea.” He confessed, averting his eyes because the look that Jack was giving really wasn’t helping. He hated how much of a paranoid recluse he felt. But something just, told him that maybe they should skip this one. Just this once.
As expected, Jack laughed, ruffling Alex’s hair playfully. Which just made Alex feel even more pathetic, like a child whose earnest words that were overlooked. Anger flamed in his stomach as the thought tainted his mind - but he felt like the thought wasn't his. Like it had been put their to deliberately antagonise him.
Jack laughed, however. “Why not, you said yourself that this was an excuse to behave like the immature children we are at heart.” Stepping aside to walk past him, Jack shifted the guitar case higher up on his back, and turned around when he didn’t hear Alex behind him.
“You coming?”
Alex stopped tearing his bottom lip apart with his teeth, frowning down at the floor from the weight of his worries. This was ridiculous. He shook himself and walked past Jack to reach the basement, flicking the light at the top of stairs on before descending into the room that had so far withstood their practising. Taking hold of the strap of his guitar he slung it over his shoulder and began strumming absently, needing get rid of the anxiety that was driving him mad. It was so unlike him. The minutes passed sluggishly, neither of the boys bothering to fill the silence that filled the room and blocked out all else - but it was comfortable. No tension. Well, not between them anyway. Alex’s fingers were robotic as he strummed, making up something on the spot and trying to forget the unease that had him glanced over to Jack every so often, checking that he was still there.
He felt like screaming. Taking this horrid worry and throwing into words that would let it slip away until he could think about something else. The bad mood that suddenly descended had him strum a little harder.
The creak of floorboards upstairs alerted him to the fact that Rian and Zack had arrived, the undertones of their voices leaking through to the basement. Alex gripped the neck of his guitar tighter, eager to just begin and lose himself in the music that his neighbours protested at furiously. All the more reason to play that little louder. The voices sounded closer now, and he turned to see the remaining two that made up their foursome coming down the stairs, Zack holding his bass guitar and Rian armed with his favourite drumsticks.
Alex turned back to the microphone that was placed on the stand, trying fruitlessly to erase the slight frown that puckered the space between his eyebrows.
-
Practise was going smoothly. Alex would strum something that felt good, and ask Jack to copy it, whilst Alex added notes here and there as he went, fingers working over the strings seamlessly as a pattern formed in his head. Words soon followed, teased from thin air as they fit into the abundance of noise perfectly, the steady rhythm of Zack’s bass and Rian on the drums keeping it moving.
But Alex was struggling with the lyrics. As the minutes turned into hours, each song that felt like it could get somewhere was stopped dead as Alex’s fingers froze on the strings, words morphing from the innocent into something darker. Each time he started something new, he found himself sinking further down into the worry, and the fabricated images that pained the inside walls of his head. Anger and frustration built up as he shook his head again, hearing the words that shaped his lips and how the sound emitting from his guitar progressed into the folds of something sinister.
“Stop,” he said. “Stop!” He repeated when the sound he didn’t like continued. Moving away from the microphone, Alex threw his hands up and cupped them behind his head, annoyed with himself. His gaze was met by three other pairs of eyes, shadowed by three identical frowns.
“What’s up, Gaskarth?” Rian asked, stilling the trembling cymbal with his fingers, resting the hand with the drumsticks in on the skin of one drum. His expression was tainted, words hinting at something that lay underneath the use of his surname. Jack placed his fingers over the strings on his guitar to silence the thrumming, Zack leaving base to hang from his shoulders, shoulders straightening, as if to size everyone up. Which was an odd notion, because Zack was normally the quietest in the group.
Alex picked up a spare pick and threw it, frowning at how he couldn’t answer. “I don’t know, do I?” He swung around, running his hands through his hair and rubbing his temples. “Nothing I play feels, right. It’s all just merging into one confused mess.”
Jack whispered over his shoulder to Rian, “Alex is worried about this party.”
Alex spun around, snarling. “Way to make me sound paranoid, Jack.” Then his eyes widened, hands lifting again to rub his face. “Sorry…I just don’t feel myself.” Zack shifted on the spot, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Maybe we should just leave practise today, if it’s not going right. Everyone has off days,” he shrugged when Alex’s eyes fell on his, desperate to keep the peace. But then Rian butted in.
“Yeah, then if Alex wants to be paranoid he can do so, on his own.” Although it was said jokingly, the words irritated something in the pit of Alex’s stomach, the word paranoid grating against his skin.
He swung his arms angrily, voice breaking into a shout, trying to emphasise his point. “I’m not fucking paranoid, alright! I don’t know why but I don’t feel sure about this party. Don’t ask me why because I don’t fucking know!” Gritting his teeth, he curled his fist and held the neck of his guitar to stop it leaping around, as he spun around and kicked down the microphone, frustration ripping at his throat.
Alex realised how loud his voice was, unsure of where this anger had come from, what had caused him to be so sensitive to the most blasé of remarks. His hands were trembling, a malice he hadn't felt before narrowing his eyes.
Unable to look at any of them, he ripped the guitar from his shoulders and stormed to the stairs, pausing to say, “Let yourself out when you’re done.”
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A/N: so, i suppose this is alright. just hang in there, the second part gets better ;)