Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10574925.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      13_Reasons_Why_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Justin_Foley/Alex_Standall, past_jessica/alex, justin/bryce, justin/alex/
      bryce
  Character:
      Justin_Foley, Alex_Standall, Justin, Alex
  Additional Tags:
      Boys_Being_Boys, handjobs, Internalized_Homophobia, Homophobic_Language,
      weed_and_alcohol_refrences, Drug_Use, Justin's_not_gay_but_pretty_gay,
      Alex_is_a_self_hating_bi, Threesome, dub_con, Alternate_Canon, Everyone
      Is_Alive, Breathplay
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-09 Completed: 2017-06-04 Chapters: 13/13 Words: 35185
****** But No Homo ******
by Squeakyshroom
Summary
     After Jessica and Alex break up but before Jessica and Justin get
     together...there's Alex and Justin.
     Or: it's not gay if you don't kiss (or talk about it. ever)
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Bad Beginning *****
Alex starts hanging out with the boys after The List. Or maybe because of it.
Who knows?
Either way he's chilling down at the pool house, squished between Bryce and
Zach. Behind them Justin slouches, usually smoking weed or texting some girl he
met. Alex has a hard time looking at him after that humiliating picture he
leaked of Hannah, but...it's no big deal, right? It's just a joke. Like the
list. Sure, Alex misses those hot chocolate meetings and the warm laughter the
three of them had shared, but the boys make him feel cooler. 
"Yo, why you always so fucking quiet?" Bryce ribs him as he snatches the chips
from his hands.
Oops, he must have been lost in thoughts again.
"Uh, just imaging my home room teacher naked," he easily lies, eliciting
chortles from the boys.  
Bryce smacks him on the back, hard: "Fuck yeah you are! Her ass is tight."
Alex struggles to pull up the corners of his lips into a smile; the muscles
around his mouth have grown heavy from misuse. Bryce's sweaty arms are wrapped
around his shoulder and Zach's knees knock against his, but they all feel
impossibly far away. They don't give a shit about him. Not really. He's just
their comic relief on nights like these, and, right now, he's not performing.
The only thing worse than being here is...going home. Because at home it's
mindless 'yes-sir-no-sir;' there's no room for feelings there. His mother is
either working late at the hospital or sleeping off the long hours. So Alex can
take his worthless, lonely ass feelings and shove them down deeper and deeper
until they're burning up under his skin. The thought of going home on an empty
night like this is too much.
"Hey," he turns to Bryce. "Is it chill if I stay here for the night? It's super
late, and I don't feel like riding back."
"I literally could give less of a shit, but it's Justin's call. He's kinda
sleeping here."
Alex turns around, fingers sinking down into the cushions, and meets Justin's
red-rimmed eyes. White smoke drifts from his pink parted lips, and the sight
makes Alex's stomach twist with something familiar. It's that feeling he used
to get when Jessica stepped out of the shower and hugged him without her bra
on.
It's called arousal, genius, one part of his brain scoffs. Alex swallows back
the feeling as he sheepishly runs a hand through his white hair. Ignore and
suppress is his mantra for the night. 
Justin shrugs: "Yeah, sure. Whatever. It's a big pull out couch."
"Aw, you two gonna share a bed. Gaaaay," Bryce taunts, and Justin gives him a
middle finger without even blinking. 
Midnight drags her feet into one AM, and the other boys have all wished them a
'goodnight— don't let the fags bite.' Alex calls his dad to explain he's
staying over with friends to finish up a project. He's never slept in the pool
house or lied to his dad, but he does like to try everything once. He collapses
on the couch and busts open his second beer of the night, which bubbles down
over his fingertips. He's past the point of tired. Tomorrow's Saturday, so it
doesn't matter if he stays up.
Justin sinks into the couch next to him, and Alex wrinkles his nose. Ugh, weed
smells like shit. Because he appreciates Justin letting him stay, he doesn't
voice his distaste. Instead, he tries to shift away on the couch, giving Justin
his space. 
"It's cold," Justin says and grabs his wrist. "Can you...stop being so far
away?"
Alex freezes as those fingers squeeze around his wrist. Justin's thumb gently
brushes over his palm even as he lets go, and Alex's flushed. 
Nodding, Alex pushes back up next to Justin, even closer than before. He's
practically sitting on the other boy's lap, and Justin only hums happily at the
position. Justin puts his hand over his shoulder in a typical bro-like fashion
or...is it? Bros don't usually gently glide their fingers over each other's
necks. Bros don't lean in and bury their soft heads into each other's
shoulders. Bros don't look up at you through their lashes. He's always this
touchy-feely when he's drunk, Alex reassures himself. I've seen him plastered
over Bryce in the same way. 
"You're warm," Justin mumbles, voice low and throbbing against his ear. 
"And you're-" too close to me right now. "Also really warm."
Justin grins like Alex has just paid him a great compliment, but he doesn't
make a move. He doesn't try to kiss him. He doesn't try to touch him. It seems
like Justin's waiting for Alex to begin, but he's not sure what he's supposed
to do. Is this a trap? Are there cameras here? Are all the other boys hiding in
another room and laughing their fucking asses off that Alex would ever think
that Justin would want him like that?
Alex's brain is short circuiting as he tries to explain away what's going on. 
"You've never done this before, huh?" Justin guesses, voice soft like he's
talking down to a wounded animal. Alex does feel rather skittish, and he
glances towards the pool house door. He swallows and shakes his head.
Everything is happening so quickly, and he's not drunk enough for whatever game
Justin is trying to play. Alex is seventeen and scared but also, judging by the
twitch of his cock in his denim jeans, excited. Jessica had left him with
nothing but fleeting kisses, but she'd refused to touch him there. Now,
Justin's big hands cup him through his jeans. 
"W-what are we doing exactly?" Alex sputters like an idiot, but his lower head,
growing harder and harder, has already figured out the rules of this twisted
game. 
Justin leans in, so his lips are pressed against Alex's ear: "Warming each
other up, Standall."
As he whispers, his fingers squeeze down around Alex. Oh, the slight pressure
through the tight denim makes Alex's toes curl under him. He's all trembling
desperation, afraid to verbalize what's happening in fear that it'll stop. He's
all loose limb, unsure what to do with his own hands. He's all wandering eyes,
uncomfortable with direct contact as this escalates. 
"I'm not gay," Alex grits, jaw tight, as those fingers continue to massage him.
The heel of Justin's hand rubs down hard against the bulge in Alex's pants, and
the sweet pressure makes him whimper, making his 'not gay' protests hilarious. 
"Me neither," Justin agrees, but then he stills his hand. 
There's a tense moment where Alex knows he can just roll away, put a pillow
between them and asleep. Still, his body eagerly leans back into Justin's side.
Justin's a pretty boy with his long lashes, and if they don't kiss then...it
isn't gay. Is it?
"We're just, uh, warming up," Alex says slowly, though he knows it's bullshit,
and leans over to squeeze Justin's thigh. 
Justin's eyes darkly glint: "Mh hm." 
Then he's fumbling with Justin's leather belt as his own jeans are unzipped.
The TV play distantly behind them, but all Alex can hear are Justin's soft
pants as he touches him through the whites of his boxers. Oh, his cock is so
nice and thick in his hands, bigger than Alex's. He doesn't feel comfortable
with skin to skin, so Alex just gropes him through the soft material and buries
his flushed face into Justin's broad shoulders. God, he can't look at him while
they do this. It's too much.
Justin easily grips him.
"Y-you've done this before," Alex gasps as Justin skillfully rubs a bead of
precum down his shaft. Justin stiffens at the accusation.
"To myself. Yeah."
"But not anybody else, Foley?" Alex wonders, and, behind the lids of his eyes,
he can imagine Justin pleasuring Bryce like this, always so eager to help his
buddies. So eager he'd easily bend down to his knees and- God, the image of
Justin with his friends cum splattered over him makes Alex bite his lip. Bet
he's such a slut for it too...
"What-whatever you're thinking. Fuck off," Justin hisses, but it's not
convincing. Not with the way he touches Alex like he's touched other boys
before him. Alex is just barely rubbing Justin through the white of his boxers.
"Is that why Bryce lets you stay in his pool house? Knows you'll repay the
favor on your hands and knees?" Justin's cock jumps in Alex's grip.
Interesting.
"S-shut up ah-Ah-lex," Justin whines into his ear like he's in pain, but
judging by how slick his boxers are with precum, Alex is sure that it's the
good kind of pain, the kind you want more of. 
Alex continues to caress him over his underwear, and he hates how much he's
enjoying this. His whole body is alive as Justin slides his hand down his
length, twisting down. Oh, he's defiantly done this before. How many times to
get this good? He'd promised himself not to think of anything, but now his mind
is filled with images of Justin kneeling, pink lips parted. Fuck. 
The combination of the twisted fantasies and Justin's warm hand squeezing down
around him makes Alex's back arch. He cums with a pathetic whimper into
Justin's shoulder. He cums with a shudder into Justin's palm. 
Justin roughly reaches down to take Alex's hand and helps guide it down below
the elastic of his boxers. Oh, Alex has never touched another boy before like
this, and his fingers tremble even as Justin helps him move them. His own spent
cock twitches at the forbidden pleasure.
"It's not fucking rocket science," Justin snaps as Alex freezes up.
"I just don't have the experience you do," Alex says, and their eyes meet for
the first time since they started. 
Justin's flushes red at the insult and bites his lip. The sudden power of
holding -just holding!- the larger boy in his hands makes Alex's lips twitch
into a smirk. Justin, instead of denying the accusation, only averts his guilty
eyes. His cock is leaking precum under Alex's fingertips, and continues not to
move his fingers, wondering what Justin would do.
"Y-yeah, fuck, I have," Justin confesses. "Is that wh-what you wanted to hear?
That I've done this with Bry- others before? But it's not gay or some shit
cause we don't kiss, ok? So fucking- just please finish."
It's the begging, voice dripping with desperation, that makes Alex move his
hand. Justin silently cums, as though he's been trained not to make a sound. He
cums without a noise, clearly holding his breathe, but Alex can feel the cum
spilling over onto his fingers. 
They don't talk about the act or the confession. Justin just shoves him away,
pulls out the couch, and collapses under a sheet. Alex sits there and stares at
his reflection in the mirror. His white hair is mused and his cheeks are still
flushed from the pleasure.
What did I just do? Alex wonders. And why do I want to do it again? 
***** Morning After *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Alex wakes up with a throbbing head and sliver of light cutting his eyes.
Moaning, he squeezes them back shut and hides his face into a pillow. It takes
him a couple seconds to realize that said pillow’s breathing. Who…?Hazy
memories of Justin’s steady hand and the creak of the couch leak back into his
disoriented mind. Oh, right.
While he’s still in the blur between consciousness and unconsciousness, Alex
realizes that he’s resting against Justin’s chest. Still, he blissfully
snuggles closer to the warmth, ignoring the ABORT-DANGER-HERE side of his
brain; its distant throbbing stops him from falling back to sleep.
But he feels so nice and soft, Alex argues with himself. One more minute.
Alex happily keens as Justin moves closer. His warm breathe soothingly curls
against Alex’s neck and his cool lips brush against his overheated skin.
Unfortunately, Justin’s leg also shifts and invades the space between Alex’s
thighs, causing his hips to jerk awake. His cock twitches, aroused by the
sudden contact. Alex whines in discomfort at the pressure and shifts forward
again. He needs relief for his growing morning wood. An animalistic part of
him, without a voice, commands his hips to rut forward, and Alex happily obeys.
His breathing starts to get more irregular as he rubs his bulge against
Justin’s hard leg. No, bad, another voice whispers. Stop that.
Alex ignores the whisper and continues to arch his back, rolling his hips
against that sweet, sweet pressure. Oh god, yes. A drop of sweat trickles down
the back of his neck as precum stains his already ruined boxers. Another rut.
A hand pushes him away: “Ugh, no, Bryce, not right now. Mh, too tired.”
The foreign name causes him to jolt awake.
Shit, what was I doing? What…what did I do last night? These troubling thoughts
force him to sit up and rub his pounding head. He peers down between his
fingertips to see that his cock hasn’t gotten the message. It’s still straining
against his boxers, desperate for relief.
Justin looks so beautiful asleep. Those pink lips are still parted. Brown hair
messy and soft. His cheeks are flushed pink, and…yep he’s just as hard as Alex.
His traitorous eyes settle on the mouth-watering bulge, and he bites his bottom
lip.I can’t believe that I touched him there last night and he came in my grip.
Fuck. Kinda gay isn’t it?
While Alex distinctly remembers Justin insisting that it wasn’t gay, he’s self-
aware to know that’s ridiculous. On a list of Things That Are Gay, jerking off
a guy is pretty high up there. Still, they didn’t kiss so…it doesn’t mean
anything. Does it? They were just fucking around and…shit happens.The question
of whether Alex wantsit to mean something is too complicated for his morning
head to handle. He can only handle simple thoughts like: 1) shower 2) eat.
Justin rolls over away from him, and Alex sighs. He needs to go before he tries
to do something stupid like ask what happened last night. Or why Justin thought
he was Bryce. Alex always knew those two were clingy but this took their, uh,
brotherhood to a new level of disturbing. Especially since they were both
‘straight.’
Then again Alex called himself straight, but he hadn’t had any problem hiding
his face in Justin’s shoulder and letting his fingers curl around him. Fuck,
the memory envelopes him as he steps into the hot shower. The steam turns to
Justin’s smoke, and he’s back on the couch, squirming for more. Alex presses
his face against the cold shower glass and wraps a hand around himself. It
doesn’t feel as good as Justin’s hand would.
He moans and tries to change his fantasy to Jessica, with her soft brown hair
and doe-like eyes. He pictures how her breasts looked in that tight tube top.
But the images melt away into Justin, sleeping on the sofa, spread out so
beautifully, with his cock bulging against his boxer briefs. Alex moves his
wrist quicker even as humiliation twists in his stomach. Of all the fucking
people to fantasize about? Why that cocky piece of stoner trash? But the
fantasies out of control, he’s helpless to do anything but continue to rub
against himself, toes curling on the wet tiles.
“Yo, Alex?” Justin calls, and Alex halts; his cheeks flush dark red.
“Y-yeah?”
“You seen the remote? I’m trying to…ah, never mind. Found it.”
Alex turns the water from hot to freeze-your-nipples-off and shoves his white
head into the biting spray. He hugs himself and shivers. Stop thinking about
it. Stop. Thinking. The ache of his failed orgasm twists at his stomach as he
wraps the towel around it.
His underwear is coated with cum, so he crumples it into his hand to shove into
his deep pockets. Alex should have brought his clothes in here but that would
be too intelligent.
Justin’s sitting on the re-made couch and watching cartoons. He greets Alex
with a nod and scoots over so that he can sit down. Alex just gathers up his
clothes, which were dumped on the floor. Say something. Don’t be fucking
awkward.
“Morning,” he grumbles, mouth dry, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
“Sup. Bryce and the crew aren’t gonna be back til like, uh, fucking brunch,
which is a fake meal rich people made up. So if you’re hungry for breakfast, I
know the chef, and-“
“It’s fine. I-I think I should go.”
“If you want. You don’t have to.”
“I would but, you know, homework. I have so much fucking work that I have to
finish, so…”
Justin shrugs like it doesn’t matter one way or another. Like nothing happened
last night. Like Alex is nothing.
What did I expect? Hugs and kisses?
He bikes home and has a crisis. A small but violent one. He screams into his
pillow, pulls out his laptop, and googles ‘Am I gay test?’ He takes too many
inconclusive tests and then tries to watch porn, but he’s just not in the mood
since he blue balled himself. Instead, he wastes the rest of the weekend
ignoring the boy’s group chat and panicking.   
By Monday everything’s the same, but Alex starts to see thing differently. When
Bryce slings his hand over Justin’s shoulder, he can’t see it the same way
anymore. There’s something a little more than friendly in the way Bryce leans
in to whisper a secret against his ear.
Zach squeezes his shoulder: “Hey, dude. You’re zoning out again.”
“It’s nothing,” Alex says and shakes his head when it most definitely
is…something. He’s just not sure exactly what. Or how he fits into his messy
puzzle of high school. Does he really belong anywhere here? Does anyone here
give a shit?
‘Talk to Your Counselors!’ A happy sign informs him along with a rainbow ‘Be
Yourself.’ He stares at them, considers ripping them down, and walks away. Fuck
this school and their obsessive need to turn everything into an over-cheerful
slogan. The truth can never fit into a neat catchphrase.
He's herded into Chemistry, where the teacher is assigning them partners. As
luck would have it he's assigned to work with Justin. God, he turns on the
Bunsen Burner and wishes that he could drift away from here like the smoke.
Far, far away. Justin doesn't act different than usual. Although he does drop
his pen when their fingers accidentally brush together. Other than that they
watch the water boil in the beaker and scribble down measurements on their
charts like any of it means a fucking thing. The numbers blur together because
he's watching Justin out of the corner, wondering if what they did together was
just some failed experiment. Would there be a repeat? Did he want there to be? 
By the time Alex gets back to his locker, shoving books and papers into his
bag, he's still not sure. He sees Hannah walking by herself and heads the other
direction, so they don’t have to awkwardly pass each other by. He ends up
running into Jessica, who gives him a hesitant wave from across the hall.
Alex’s heart skips at the sight, and he realizes that he still likes her.
Yo. Come down to the pool 2night so we can finish up those fucking chem
problems –J
And bring 2 pairs of undies –J
His heart skips another beat.
Chapter End Notes
     Hm, Justin's up to something.
***** Chemistry *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"So you have to balance the equation," Alex explains and looks up to see Justin
is staring at him with twinkling eyes. He inhales sharply as the steady eye
contact, squirming a little on the couch. Alex looks away from their intensity
and bites the tip of his pencil. Beside them Zach groans as his character is
KO'ed and Bryce whoops in victory. The two of them tussle for a moment before
Bryce turns on them.
"Play with me?" Bryce pants, waving a remote in front of Justin's face, but it
doesn't sound like a question. Closer to a command.
"I'm studying."
"Stop being so fucking boring," Bryce groans. "Let's be honest, dude. You're
going to fail that test anyways."
Justin flushes at the words, and all the light from before is gone: "Yeah
I...probably am going to fail."
His lips tighten, flinging the periodic table away, as his eyes darken.Fuck
you, Bryce, Alex thinks but he doesn't dare say it. He wishes that he wasn't
always so passive.
Ten minutes in and Bryce's one handing his remote because his other hand has
slipped down to rest on Justin's thigh. Justin doesn't acknowledge that it's
there with a look or glance. Alex watches the exchange with silent lips, trying
and failing to keep his eyes firmly fixed on the screen. 
Why can't Alex say anything? It's just...Bryce is handsome, strong, and the
star of the basketball team. He embodies everything that Alex wishes he was,
and everyone at school sees him through a pair of rose-tinted eyes. And yet he
also hasn't loosened his grip on Justin's leg. Alex wonders who he is he
really? Who is he at one in the morning when no one is looking? His stomach
twists as the image of Bryce forcing Justin down to his knees flickers in his
mind. He's not sure if he's aroused or disgusted at the thought. Maybe both.
"You should go home tonight," Justin dead-pans, but his eyes give him a
pleading look.
Alex can't translate it: do you want me to stay or leave, Justin?
"I should...?"
"Go," Justin snaps. "Not like we were getting fucking anywhere with that
stupid-ass chemistry shit."
Justin throws the remote aside, jumps over the couch and goes over to the
drawers to pull out a plastic baggie full of weed. He doesn't smoke like a boy
having fun, Alex realizes as his stomach sinks lower and lower. Justin smokes
like a boy trying to forget. Alex isn't a fucking detective but he can put two
and two together and-
"For real though I wanna stay over," Alex insists. 
Bryce grins and slaps Alex a little too roughly on the back: "More the merrier,
right?"
Zach yawns: "Nah, you three have fun, huh? I'm gonna go to head off. My mom
will kill me if I keep staying out during school nights."
"Well, I'm staying. My mom's working slash doesn't give a shit, and my dad's
also on night patrol, so..." 
Justin's jaw is tight as he squeezes between Bryce and Alex on the couch to
roll up his blunt. The brush of Justin's knee against his is like a shock to
his system. Alex thinks he might be Justin-sexual. That would explain a lot.
Every little brush of their skin is too much and not enough. Alex is addicted
to the way those lips look wrapped around a blunt or blowing out pearly smoke.
He wonders what they'd look like wrapped around him, and his cock eagerly
twitches in his jeans at the tempting thought. He pops open a beer, which
tastes like piss, but it's always better to be buzzed when he's hanging with
the boys. The air is electrically charged now as Bryce flicks through random TV
channels, and Alex wonders where the tension's coming from. Bryce's smirking,
but he's always smirking. No one's speaking. Am I missing something or...?
Bryce grabs Justin's blunt away from him and deeply inhales. There's an ease to
all of Bryce movements, unlike the unsure jerkiness of Justin. Maybe it's a
quality of being richer than sin that allows a boy to be perpetually smug? Alex
doesn't know if he hates or respects it. Love or hate? Stay or go? Gay or
straight? Alex's trapped in the smokey, grey area between any labels. He's
stuck in his seat, arousal simmering below his skin, afraid to make the wrong
move. 
"Such a fucking dick," Justin growls as he snatches it back.
"Hey," Bryce soothes and wraps his arm around Justin's shoulder. "What mine is
yours, right?"
His voice is so soft -unusually so- that if Alex wasn't staring at his lips, he
wouldn't have heard Bryce. Alex is straining on the edge of his seat, not even
pretending to watch the TV. It's all white noise to the black drama that's
unfolding in front of him. Justin's shoulder have relaxed in spite of himself
as he takes a hit. His eyes flutter. Alex squirms in his seat. 
"Oh, that's not nice, Justin. Why don't you share with our guest?" 
The two taller boys exchange a heated look that Alex can't read. It's like
they're speaking in a foreign language.  
"I-it's fine. I don't really smoke," Alex stammers. 
Bryce leans in, snickering, and whispers something into Justin's ear. Alex
catches his name but nothing else. Oh god, maybe he should have gone home, but
he swallows the regret as Justin shifts towards him. Justin's eyes have
softened, pupils dilated from the weed and...something else.
"Come here. I'll shot gun," Justin sighs, tugging Alex in by the collar of his
shirt like he's some disobedient puppy. Being man handled like that shouldn't
turn Alex on the way that it does. He's playing a game, once more, where he
doesn't know the rules. 
"Wha'-"
"Shut up," Justin whispers as he brings it to his lips once more. The way his
fingers look holding the blunt are sexy and fingers aren't supposed to be
fucking sexy, but Justin's managed it somehow. Justin's got messy down to an
art with his ruffled brown hair and half hooded eyes. His cheeks hallow.
Alex is so memorized that he barely registers how Justin's leaning in to- 
"Mh! Wha-what-" Alex coughs and jerks away. 
"Aw, baby can't handle his smoke," Bryce taunts.
Shut up just please shut up, Alex thinks for the second time tonight. Justin
snickers along but he also sharply elbows Bryce. Alex is flushed bright red as
he  wipes his mouth. Great now both of them think that he's a fucking loser.
Which...yeah, he kind of is, but he doesn't want them to think that. I'll show
them.
He recklessly grabs the blunt from Justin, fingers brushing. Justin's watching
him like he did Friday night, and the memory makes Alex's jeans grow even
tighter. He doesn't know what he's doing but that doesn't stop him. Eyes
watering, Alex inhales the smoke and leans in. Justin gently cups his face, and
their parted lips brush together as the smoke moves from his mouth to Justin's.
Alex wants so badly to close the smokey space between them, but he doesn't
dare. He just wants and wants and wants more than he can put into words.  
And Justin gives it to him. He gently takes the blunt away from him and helps
him through two more. Alex relaxes under his grip, even though he hates the
taste so much, but he loves the softness of Justin's skin. He loves how he
mumbles little encouragements in his ear. That's it Standall...steady...mmh,
such a good boy...
Bryce's loud voice interrupts them: "You two faggots done or...?"
"Fuck off," Justin snaps as he pulls away, but he's smiling like it's a term of
endearment instead of a slur.
Alex isn't high from a couple hits, but the adrenaline combined with the light
in Justin's eyes makes his toes curl. He can't imagine what the two of them
look like right now through Bryce's gleaming eyes- Justin's a muscular
basketball star while Alex is a white haired twerp. Why the three of them are
squished together on one couch is...fuck, Alex can't think. Doesn't want to
think. He wants another hit of something to make his muscles relax. Bryce is
whispering into Justin's ear again, and he watches in confusion as Justin's
eyes grow glazed and his whole body relaxes under the larger boy's grip. This
some mind control bullshit, Alex thinks, feeling every bit the third-wheeling-
loser they must think he is. 
"Standall still needs something to relax," Justin says, but the words don't
sound natural on his tongue. They sound rehearsed like he's been coached on
what to say, and it has BRYCE laced under every syllable. That doesn't stop his
traitorous cock from twitching as Justin drops his warm palm down to rest on
his thigh. He's seventeen and horny, alright? Justin's lips are cherry red and
he's been imagining them on him the whole night, wondering how they feel
wrapped around him.
"And you're going to help him...aren't you?" Bryce's voice lilts up like a
question, but it's clearly an order. Justin obediently nods and lets his hand
move up to the growing bulge between Alex's thighs. His breath catches in his
throat, and he's choking on his desire. The dark part of him wants to thank
Bryce while his consciousness firmly tells him to STOP.
"I-I think maybe I should go?" Alex sputters because this is a threesome that's
bound to fuck him up in the worst sense of the word. Except his legs won't
move. His body won't obey his mind, which is warning him to runrunrunrun. 
Justin just looks up, hand still curled around him, and snorts like that's what
I told you to do you fucking idiot. And now it's too late. 
"No, I don't think you should, dude. No, you're going to stay right here, Alex.
Justin told me how you boys helped each other out Friday night-" wait, what?!
"So if you don't want anyone else at school to know, you're going to stay right
here. Don't act like you don't want it, pretty boy. You've been making eyes at
my boy all night- I'm just helping you out."
And Alex does want Justin...just not like this. Not with Bryce here, watching
both of them like they're his favorite pair of toys. Yet he still he jerks his
head in a weak attempt at consent; it's good enough for Bryce who snaps his
fingers. Justin's eyes are blank -so different from their first night- like
he's moved to a different space, like his mind is floating somewhere in the
smoke. Bryce's hand settles in Justin's soft hair and gently pets him like he's
his owner, and Alex hates that the sight only turns him on more. It clearly
isn't about the sex for Bryce, just the idea that he can control whomever he
wants. 
Justin's undoing his belt, faded eyes looking up at Alex through his long
lashes and- shit this is out of control. Alex would run to the bathroom if the
hard on between his legs didn't betray him. 
"He's good with his mouth," Bryce assures him when all Alex wants is to forget
that he's here, directing this fucked up game. He's pre-verbal, reverting back
to a state of complete helplessness as Justin's steady hands pull him out of
his boxers, and he whimpers at how painfully hard he is. Precum
squirts from the head of his cock and dribbles down the length. Alex bites his
lip to stop himself from cumming in Justin's grip. 
Hot lips envelope him and, oh god, Alex has never been in anyone else's mouth,
let alone Justin-motherfucking-Foley's. He sinks his fingers deeper into the
seat, wishing he could rest his hand in Justin's hair but that's where Bryce is
holding him, pushing him down onto Alex's cock. His eyes flutter, and it feels
like he's leaving his body. 
"Tell him it feels good," Bryce's deep tenor vibrates in his ear, and Alex
whimpers as Justin slides down further, taking him all the way.
"F-feels good."
"No, tell him how good."
"The best I've ever had."
"And Justin's a fucking slut for doing this?"
"A-a-ah, yeah," Alex weakly agrees, but doesn't repeat the dirty words. The
combination of Bryce's hot breathe against his neck and Justin's wet tongue
sliding against his cock is driving him crazy. 
"He's a slut, right?" Bryce repeats. "Isn't he, Alex? That'd he'd do this to
another boy?"
"Y-yeah," he pants, still refusing to say it.
His skin feels overheated from this painful pleasure, and he's sure he's going
to hell for enjoying whatever the hell this is as much as he does. He's shaking
as he tries to keep himself from cumming inside Justin's mouth, but it's just
so soft and warm. Justin must have no gag relax because Alex is sliding all the
way inside his tight throat. 
Fuck, how is Justin so good at this? Alex wonders as he squirms. How many times
has Bryce made him do this?
Finally, Justin pulls back up for air, panting, and a strand of saliva connects
his rosy lips to Alex's cock. Justin mindlessly strokes down Alex's length,
mixing the wet saliva and precum down him. The mixture dribbles to the base of
his cock, and it's so messy and hot and-
"A-ah, f-fuck, I-I can't- Justin," Alex moans as his hips buck, and he cums all
over his face without much more of a warning. 
It's the best fucking orgasm of his life, and, even as he cums down from his
high, the guilt takes a while to hit. Justin wipes face clean, licking off the
cum like he's used to it, which he probably is, and leans back to whisper in
Bryce's ear. I want him to do the same to me, Alex easily overhears, and his
spent cock twitches at the idea. He would only be too happy to sink down to his
knees for Justin. But Bryce sharply shakes his head at the suggestion. 
"Finish yourself in the bathroom," he orders, but they both get up. 
Alex flushes at the noises he overhears, but he changes into the second pair of
underwear tonight and pretends to be deaf. His skin is still oversensitive, and
he hardens at the sound of flesh-hitting-flesh and whimpering. What kind of
fifty shades of fucked up?  But he can't help picturing Justin -with his
beautiful face- down on his knees or spread out on the counter top. By the time
the door reopens in five minutes, Alex is semi again. Luckily, he's pretending
to be asleep, face buried in a couch cushion. Justin roughly shoves his feet
and curls up on the other side of him. They're both too tired to even convert
the couch into a bed. Instead, they fall asleep on the narrow space,
threatening to fall off onto the crumb covered couch at any moment. 
Guilty, his consciousness screams as he tosses and turns.  
But guilty of what? Silence? Secret enjoyment? He falls asleep with unanswered
questions still swirling around him like smoke. 
Chapter End Notes
     You KNOW shit's fucked up when you need to add more tag warnings. I
     need holy water.
     Leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed this.
***** Wake Up *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Alex groans as something hard shifts against his cock. His eyes flutter open to
find Justin's leg rudely shoved between his thighs. Fucking hell. How does this
keep happening? Alex wonders and hides his face in the crook of his arm. It's
too early for coherent thoughts. All he wants to do is go back to sleep and let
his body lazily rut against the invading foot.
Another shift. Oh, his lower head is waking up alright. Fuck. 
Justin's got a bright, purple bruise blooming on the side of his neck. Alex has
never seen a hickey close up, but that's what it must be. He suppresses the
urge to reach forward and press his cold fingertips to the heated skin.
Instead, he just stares and lies still. Always waiting. Waiting for what?
Justin looks so young and innocent when he's sleeping. All the creases have
been smoothed over, and his pink lips are parted. Oh, they felt so good around
me. Alex bites his own lip as the painfully pleasant memory sends a shiver up
his spine. All that remains from last night is the horrible reek of pot and the
guilty twitch of his fingers. When Justin's knee kneads his bulge, Alex
helplessly stiffens. 
How many girls would be jealous of where he keeps waking up? How many
cheerleaders would give up their pom poms just to have Justin motherfucking
Foley, star of the basketball team, pressed against them? Alex stomach twists
as he imagines what Jessica would think if she knew about...this. Whatever this
is. God, the humiliating thought of Jess knowing how he lost his blowjob
virginity only makes him harder. 
He's trying to disentangle his dreams from reality, but everything's a smokey
haze of heated touches. The more he thinks he remembers the more it disappears.
What was one thing that happened for sure? For sure there was that glazed look
in Justin's eyes as he wrapped his lips around him...the weight of Bryce on the
couch...the click of the bathroom door...
Precum is smeared against the whites of his boxers, and his skin feels
overheated at every brush of Justin against him. More whimpers leak from his
lips. 
"Bryce?" Justin whines just like he did the first morning, but this time
Alex doesn't scamper.
"Just me," Alex whispers like an apology. 
Justin's eyes flutter open; his unfocused pupils meet Alex's, flicker down, and
then come into sharp focus. 
"Fuck," Justin snaps and scoots back. He hugs his knees to his bare chest, and
Alex, tugging his shirt down to cover himself, has the decency to flush. His
fingernails sink into the soft palms as he tries to hold himself together. He
clears his throat.
"Listen, Justin, we should..." Stop? Talk? Stop talking? 
"Shower," Justin grunts, and he flinches as he stands. Alex reaches forward
only for his hand to be slapped away. Great. Fucking great. 
"Let me help you, asshole," Alex huffs when he really means I'm sorry. I'm
sorry that you're in pain, and I don't know what to do. I'm sorry he's hurting
you, and I don't know how to stop him. I'm sorry for being so helpless. 
"I'm fine," Justin mumbles as he rubs his red-tinged eyes.
"Liar," Alex says before he can think and his eyes flicker down to the purple
bruise. Justin's eyes follow his, and his fingers reach down to press against
it. He inhales sharply in pain.
"Fuck, I told that neanderthal no fucking marks," Justin curses. "Does he
listen to me? Shit."
Alex stands and tries to reach out once more only to be shoved firmly back. He
grits his teeth, overwhelmed, and just hides his face in his hands. The
bathroom door clicks shut, and he can hear the hiss of the shower. Alex's
traitorous mind imagines what Justin would look like under the spray with those
pink lips parted...dark hair plastered over his pale forehead...body covered
with bruises and fingerprints. Marked. 
He bites his bottom lip and stares at his dark reflection in the flat screen
before him. His stomach growls with hunger. His boxers are still tented. His
hands shake. Alex does nothing. He doesn't touch himself or search for food or
try to reason out what happened last night. Instead, he just blankly stares
ahead; he's at loss at how to even function on the most basic levels right
now. 
Justin comes out smelling like sickly sweet perfume. The couch squeaks, and
Justin's wet, bare skin presses up against him. 
"He's...we have to tell someone," Alex finally says.
"And why the fuck would we do that? Don't be a fucking pussy, Standall. It was
fun."
"It," Alex looks at him out of the corner of his eye. "It was?"
"Of course. Did you see a fucking gun to my head?"
Then why did you have to get high? Why were your eyes so distant? 
"Ok, yeah sure," Alex says and shrugs, unconvinced. It's easier to swallow the
lie then to confront the truth. 
Justin still hasn't moved his arm and Alex likes the way it feels against his
bare skin. This warm companionship is so different from last nights cold,
calculated sex. Maybe it's because Bryce isn't here to puppeteer their
movements. They're pressed against each other right now because they want to
be, free to feel the rise and fall of each other's breathing. Alex lets his
eyes drip down to Justin's towel, which barely hangs onto his hips. Bruises
like fingerprints are scattered on his skin. Alex doesn't dare to reach out and
touch them, but his stomach twists again with guilt.
"Why did you invite me over...and then tell me to leave?" Alex finally manages
to form a coherent thought.
Justin only shrugs, but his sharp eyes tell him you know why. Once more he
isn't sure if he should stay or go. Justin opens up a drawer, which is full of
his clothes, and tosses Alex a shirt. It's too big for him, since it's
Justin's, but he low key loves how it looks on him. God, he's a
fucking blushing schoolgirl at this point. How much does Justin stay here that
he has a whole drawer to himself? Justin pulls on his blue school jacket,
popping the collar to cover up his neck.
The smiling maid knocks and greets Justin by his first name. Justin gives her a
suave wink and accepts the tray laden with food. 
"So you just chill here all the time? Don't you ever go home?"
"This is home," Justin says with a mouth full of pancake. Alex just butters a
piece of toast. Their knees are pressed together, and it's too quiet. Alex
hates how after everything that he still wants to be around Justin. 
"But why do you want to stay here? No offense but Bryce is kind of a fucking
asshole."
Justin doesn't react as he licks his fingers clean of syrup.
"Whatever. Like you had friends before us."
Yes, Alex miserably thinks even as he shrugs, I did.
The memory of Hannah and Jessica's smiling faces warm his whole body, and, oh
god, he aches for them. He blinks away tears as he remembers how they used to
listen to him in a way that his new 'friends' never will. The way the three of
them all put their hands together. Just them against the world. Suddenly, he's
gripped by the strangest urge to grab Justin by the wrist and pull him to that
fucking café and buy him some hot chocolate. He wants so badly to show this
bruised boy what it means to have friends. How can he possibly think that this
is the way that friends act towards friends? Justin deserves happiness just as
much as anybody.
Instead Alex asks, "How long have you known Bryce?"
"Since like...late middle school. Well, we always knew each other, but we
started hanging out more when we both made the basketball team and...anyways,
he's a really good guy, Alex. Once you get to know him the more you'll realize
that." 
"Do your parents know him?"
Justin darkly chuckles: "My mom knows shit and that's what she wants to know. I
could be dead for all she cares."
Alex has never heard Justin talk about his home life, but he should have known
that a boy looking for affection in Bryce is someone who has never been
properly loved. It all makes sense, but it's all out of Alex's control. It
doesn't feel like he can do anything to help him. Invite him to your house, a
soft voice whispers. Alex ignores it. 
Bryce enters without knocking and steals Alex's buttered toast. Any other day
he wouldn't have cared but now it makes his lips tighten. This boy thinks the
whole world should fucking kneel at his feet. He's rich and handsome and
entitled. Alex wants to push him off of Justin but that's really not his place
to judge. 
I'm going to stay away from this mess, he promises himself. After all, Zach
managed to do that, so why can't Alex? He's just going to go back to how it was
before he knew about this...whatever this is. Still, his eyes catch the way
Bryce's fingers brush possessively brush against the bruise, the way Justin
flinches, and the unspoken tension that simmers between them. Alex can't
breathe, so he cracks open the pool house door, but the smoke permanently
clings to him. 
"I told you no marks."
"Shit sorry, dude."
Alex overhears, and he wonders if this is his eternal punishment. At school he
hides himself in the music room, strumming away on his guitar. Only there, lost
in the notes, does he feel safe. For the rest of the week he stays after school
for band practice, ignoring the ever-buzzing group chat. He hides there during
lunch too and makes up bullshit excuses for why he can't hang. 
If he remained loyal to his own word then there would be nothing else to tell,
but he did hear more.
It isn't his fault. Not really.
"You weren't at lunch today." Bryce isn't as quiet as he thinks he is when he
whispers, and the classroom buzz isn't enough to block out his words. Justin is
a bug desperately struggling in a spider's web; Alex's eyes flicker up to look
at him but they just as quickly flicker back to his lap.
"I wanted to be alone. It's no big deal, okay? Alex wasn't at lunch either."
"Why?!" Bryce momentarily forgets to whisper and a couple classmates turn to
stare, "I mean...I already apologized for what happened, okay? Can't we
just...can you come back to the pool-house tonight? We can just talk about
shit...”
Alex doesn't want to hear. He doesn't want to see. He tightens his grip around
his pencil. He always had to watch as the dominoes fell, but he could never
stop them from hitting the ground.
"We never just talk anymore."
Alex makes the mistake of looking up from Othello, and he immediately regrets
it. Justin's eyebrows are knotted together, his eyes squeezed into slits, and
his lips tremble. Bryce's hand slips back onto the desk.
Alex is sitting right next to Justin, close enough to touch, but he's a
thousand miles away. Alex can't reach him. In the hallway, he sees Hannah
struggling under the weight of her books, and he looks away. 
What was up in class today? -A
Nothing. The fuck? -J
Where r u right now? -A
It's obvious where he is. The fucking pool house.
R u ok? -A
Mind ur own business, Standall -J
Guilty, his consciousness screams as he tosses and turns that night, and he
can't sleep. He's plagued by nightmares full of blooming bruises and a bouquet
of bones. Alex wakes up in a cold sweat, and he's not sure he can go on any
longer. 
Hey, Hannah, Alex types. I know it's been forever but...do you wanna hang out?
Chapter End Notes
     Warning: this is gonna diverge from canon
***** Hot Chocolate *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Alex inhales the bittersweet scent of freshly brewed coffee and cakes. Hannah’s
waiting for him at their table, and for a moment it’s like no time has passed.
Except there’s an empty stool where Jessica should be. Her absence overwhelms
him, and he freezes up, uncertain.
“Hey?” Hannah calls and waves. Alex sits down, and Hannah, hands crossed over
her chest, gives him a hesitant smile.
“Hey, look, I...” Alex struggles. “It’s been a long time since we went to
Monet’s. How you been doing?”
“Fine,” she says in the way girls do when they want you to know that
everything's not fine.
“Yeah?”
“I’m fine” Hannah flushes. “If you want to ask me about Jessica, she doesn't
talk to me, ok? So-”
“No, this isn’t about Jessica. It’s- what I want is- shit, ok, how about we
order something and then talk?”
“Alright, Alex.”
“I still didn't try everything on the menu,” Alex tries to joke and meets her
eyes; they’re dark and hardened.
“Yeah? Well, I’m not on the menu if that’s what this is about.”
She’s doesn't trust me, Alex realizes like a gut punch. Not after the list.
“What? No! No, I’m not trying to flirt with you or anything. No, really I just
want to talk,” Alex pleads and flinches when he realizes how much like Bryce he
sounds. “It’s about Justin.”
“That asshole? Really?” Hannah pushes her chair away from the table and makes
as if to go. Alex grabs her wrist.
“Yeah, but no listen! He’s not really that bad.”
“Not that bad...? Did you see those pictures that he leaked?"
Hannah’s getting louder, and she looks ready to flip the table. Her eyes
glimmer with tears. Alex has to say something, fast, or he’s going to lose her.
Again. No, please don’t go. Don’t leave me. Pleasepleaseplease.
Alex looks her straight in the eyes: “I had sex with Justin.”
Welp. There it is.
Hannah freezes, face flushed, and gapes at him. She sits back down and covers
her mouth. The shocked silence sits heavy between them. Until finally, Hannah
breaks it with a soft-
“You mean Justin...?”
“Foley,” Alex confirms and flushes at the admission. He hasn’t verbalized it
until now but telling someone, as humiliating as it is, makes him feel better.
Hannah, for the first time, puts her hand on the table, palms open, and Alex
takes it. He squeezes her warm hand, and she squeezes back. It’s dangerous, as
far as rumors go, to be openly holding Hannah’s hand in the cafe, but, for a
second, Alex doesn't give a shit about wandering eyes. He’s just happy to have
his friend back.
“You’re the only one I could trust because I knew you wouldn’t go around and
gossip to the rest of the school. The only one besides...well besides her...”
Alex looks over at the empty stool and blinks away tears. Hannah understands
because she smiles at him, face soft. Any residual hardness has melted away
after his confession.
“Sh, it’s ok, Alex. Let’s order something to drink? Then talk?”
He nods, throat tight, and Alex can’t believe he ever let her go. Skye takes
their orders and brings them out in a minute. Alex happily sips a hot chocolate
with pink whipped cream. Hannah cups her own mug and looks up at him,
attentive. He clears his throat and tries once more.
“Look, about the list. I just wanted to apologize-”
“I get it was just a joke. It’s...whatever.”
“No, it isn't whatever,” Alex says firmly. “I wanted to be cool, but I just
threw your friendship away like it was nothing, which is shitty. I regret that.
Like on a fucking list of things I regret creating The List is on the very
top.”
Hannah accepts his apology with a nod and hesitant giggle: “But you got to join
the wolf pack because of it. Didn't you?" 
“Yeah, well, I’m over the pack and back to being a lone wolf. Ever since shit
went down I’ve been ignoring the group chat. Haven’t been over to the pool
house. Even missed the game this afternoon to talk to you.”
“We can be alone together,” she says with a sardonic smile.
“Don’t quote Fall Out Boy lyrics at me, you nerd.”
“Oh, please. I’ve seen your Spotify playlists, Mr. My Chemical Romance.”
“I'm being attacked by Hannah Baker!”
They laugh, easily for the first time in forever, and Alex can’t remember what
it’s like to feel this at ease. The world with Hannah in it feels safe and
cozy. They fall into comfortable silence. Or maybe contemplative like they're
both wondering how they let this fall apart. There’s only one person missing
from this scene...No, two people, Alex realizes suddenly. 
“It’s fucked up. I don’t even know how to begin.”
“Maybe from the beginning?”
“Ok. So let’s just be clear that I’m not gay. But I’m also not not gay. Does
that make any sense?”
Hannah’s forehead creases.
“That’s a bad beginning. Isn’t it?”
“Take a breathe, Alex. I’ll listen, OK? You just speak.”
And Alex does. He tells her about the first night, about smoking, about waking
up and panicking, about Bryce’s games, and about how lonely he’s been. Hannah’s
a brilliant listener. She gasps at the right moments but stays quiet at the
others. She flushes when he goes into too much detail about Justin’s mouth. She
tears up when he describes the dull eyed expression and the fear that he’s
glimpsed in Justin. She only interrupts Alex once to ask why he hasn’t told
anybody else.
“I’ve just been afraid that people would judge me and label me as gay when I’m
not even sure if I am because I still like girls. I mean I-I think I do? And my
dad...I’m not sure what he would say. My brother’s an ass. End of story. None
of the other boys will listen except maybe Zach but I don’t know- and I’ve just
been so afraid. I still am afraid. Of everybody misunderstanding and judging
me.”
Hannah’s smile says I know how you feel.
“I’m glad you told me. I don’t know what to do either, but...maybe we can talk
to Justin? He’s...I mean for all his flaws I really did like him at one point,”
Hannah says and flushes. “He was my first kiss.”
“And my first blowjob,” Alex says without thinking, and they both have to cover
their mouths to keep themselves from laughing too loudly. Alex doesn't feel so
hopeless with Hannah by his side. He wishes he had talked to her sooner.
“He does have quite a talented mouth. Wasted on all that smoking. I think I saw
him by the bleachers the other day during his lunch period. Maybe try there?"
Alex bites his lip: “Yeah, I’ll talk to him. I have to. I’m the only who who
knows, and this has been driving me fucking insane. To see someone in pain and
not do anything? It’s almost worse than being the one inflicting the pain.”
Hannah agrees, and they thoughtfully sip their drinks.
They talk about everything and nothing that warm afternoon. She’s going to the
formal dance, so Alex invites her to go with him as friends. She's crushing on
Clay, and he pushes her to speak up about her feelings. He leaves her with a
hug and the promise to try and help Justin.
That night he doesn't have any nightmares. He wakes up feeling refreshed, and
Alex is so used to being a zombie that the change is jarring.
At lunch Alex packs up his guitar early and heads towards the football fields.
Wrinkling his nose, Alex detects the familiar stench of weed. Ugh, really?
During school?
“Standall.”
“Foley,” Alex coughs as he ducks under the bleachers and gives him a wry smile.
“Trying to get expelled?”
“Mh, that’s the dream. Did Bryce send you?” Justin says with bored eyes as he
blows out the smoke.
“No, I’m a free agent. I came...because I’ve been worried about you,” Alex
tries.
“Well don’t. None of your fucking business. Okay?
Alex tightens his lips: “I...no, look it’s not okay. This became my business
the second you undid my belt, ok? The second Bryce took you into the bathroom
and- I don’t know what happened, but I’m tangled up in this shit show. Whatever
leash Bryce keeps you on, I want to help you break away from it.”
“Shut up,” Justin hisses and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “You don’t
know anything about me. About Bryce. About shit.”
“Then fucking talk to me!”
Alex meant to be kind, but all the repressed anger and desperation is coming
out. Not to mention Justin looks horribly kissable with his messy hair and
cherry pink lips.
“He protects me, ok? He gives me a place to stay and he listens and he cares
and loves me-” Justin stops himself, flushed and bemused by his own confession.
Love? Oh, he can’t be for real, Alex thinks, but Justin is all trembling
truthfulness. The smoke can’t hide just how bright and shiny his eyes are with
tears, and when Justin lets go of Alex to turn away, he glimpses them falling
down his cheeks.
Alex takes a deep breathe and hugs his waist, bracing to be pushed away, but
Justin doesn't react. He can feel his sides shaking with tears, and Alex buries
his face into his neck. He wants to hug Justin until it doesn't hurt anymore,
but there’s not enough time in the lunch period for that.
“I want to help you,” Alex whispers. “Will you let me?”
“I’m not gay,” Justin sniffles even as he leans back into Alex’s touch.
An answer to a question I never asked.
“I’m not either,” He says, unsure if it’s the truth or not. “But I want to help
you, ok? If you can’t go home, I want you to stay at my place, ok? Instead of
the pool house.”
“But why?”
“Because that’s what friends do.”
Justin turns around, and Alex is waiting for the rejection, but it doesn't
come. Instead, Justin puts out his blunt and buries his face into Alex’s neck.
The motion makes his stomach twist. It’s like he’s holding something very small
and fragile in his arms, and Alex, though only a fragile boy himself, wants to
protect him at all costs.
“Okay,” Justin sighs. “But we’re not cuddling in the same bed like a pair of
boyfriends.”
“No, it’ll be very heterosexual bed sharing,” Alex promises and stops himself
from rolling his eyes. Baby steps. 
Chapter End Notes
     Oh, Justin. This is gonna take a lot of hot cocoa to fix, huh? This
     chapter was short but it's setting up for the next one (which will be
     longer)
***** Storms *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
"I think my dad wants to adopt you."
"What can I say? Parents love me," Justin says with a smirk as he closes the
door. Alex bites his lip as he busies himself with making a place for Justin to
sleep. He lays the sleeping bag on the floor and fluffs a pillow. 
"Uh huh, just wait til he finds your stash of weed, Foley. Then he'll whip you
into shape." 
"Aw, daddy issues much?" 
Alex just gives him a look as he stretches out on his bed. He just endured an
entire meal of his father and brother fawning over Justin, and he's torn
between rolling his eyes and being jealous. 
"I shoulda just snuck you through my window like you said, asshole," Alex
mutters as he undoes his belt and kicks off his jeans. He's aware of Justin's
eyes hot against his bare thighs, but he pretends not to notice. God, his
stupid heart is twisting in his chest. 
"Something tells me you never had a lot of guy friends."
"How'd you...?" Alex flushes and stammers. "I've had some but it's kinda hard
living in a military family and moving all the time. You never really belong to
a group when you're the new kid and boys like to travel in fucking packs, you
know? Shit's hard." 
"You really think I don't know how hard it is, dude?" Justin grumbles as he
peels off his shirt. "I was bottom of the pack pretending that I was at the
top. That's what happens when you're poor and come from a fucked up home.
People pretend it doesn't matter but...it does." 
There's something about having the tall basketball star in his room -
undressing!- that makes Alex's face hot. He curls his toes as he pulls on his
flannel pajamas and tries not to stare at his chest tattoos. He glimpses Calvin
Klein's, and Alex has no doubt that Bryce bought them for him. It would be
incredibly inappropriate to ask Justin to take them off, so, instead, Alex
throws a spare pair of pajama bottoms at his stupid face. They're covered in
panda bears and hearts and Justin snickers at the childish pattern. Alex
mouths shut up, but he's struggling to suppress a grin. 
He turns off the light and creeps into his bed. 
It's silent except for the pitter-patter of rain against the window. He gets
back up and closes it. When Alex slides back under the warm covers,
goosebumps rise on his arm. He's hyper-aware of the creak of the floor boards
as Justin tosses from side to side. Alex watches his dark form through the
cracks of his eyes. This is nothing like when he used to have sleepovers with
his big brother. Probably because you didn't get a blow job from your brother,
moron.
"Psst, I'm cold," Justin whispers into the darkness. Alex breathe catches as
the phrase takes him back to their first night together. 
"I can get you another blanket or...?"
"Nah, I'll still be cold," Justin repeats and Alex can almost hear the pout in
his voice. He knows what Justin wants because it's the same thing he does. Alex
is relieved that he hasn't been imaging the tension all evening. He'd choked
when Justin's hand had brushed against his under the dinner table, and he would
have thought it was an accident if Justin hadn't visibly gotten smugger at his
reaction. Luckily, his dad and brother had been too star struck to notice. Alex
sighs and invitingly pulls back his bed covers.
"You can come in, you big baby." 
The bed squeaks as Alex moves over to give him room. The bed is too narrow for
two high school boys to be sleeping in, but Alex doesn't say that. Instead, he
roughly swallows, lies on his back, and tries to slow his breathing. He's aware
of the bed shifting as Justin squirms besides him, and the whisper of the
rain is getting louder, more insistent. 
Justin's foot brushes against his, and Alex's toes immediately curl at the
contact. Just the slight touch is electric. 
"Thanks for letting me stay," Justin whispers, soft, and his voice is
different. It's similar to the soothing tone that he uses when speaking to or
about Bryce, and Alex's cock twitches at the oddly erotic thought. Justin moves
closer, and the faint heat of his breath against Alex's neck makes him shiver.
Their combined body warmth squeezed into this small bed is making him burn up.
"Course. But, ah, what happened to not sharing a bed like fucking boyfriends?"
"We're sharing a bed like...friends," Justin whispers, and Alex can see nothing
but the glimmer of his eyes in the dark and the flash of his teeth as he
smiles. This is the most confident that Alex has ever heard Justin sound.
There's nothing between them -no smoke or Byrce- but the thin sheet and the
darkness. The soft rain snickers as Alex dares to move closer, and he wonders
what kind of game they're playing now. He never knows with Justin because the
boy is an enigma, saying one thing and then doing another. He's a living
contradiction and Alex wants to untangle him.
"Friends." Alex scoffs and purposefully lets his foot press against Justin's.
"Never had friends like that."
The other boy's toes rub against him, and Alex flushes at the strange intimacy.
He can't believe he has a boy in his childhood bed, where he had his first wet
dreams, and the thought makes his breathing sped up. It's not just any boy;
this is Justin motherfucking Foley with his big hands, gleaming eyes, and
tattoos. Alex bites his bottom lip, and he's getting aroused at an
embarrassingly quick rate. Oi, get it the fuck together, Alex chastises
himself, but his body isn't listening. His disobedient heart speeds up, cheeks
flush darker, and hand moves to rest against Justin's arm. Now, he's holding
his breath as Justin moves closer.
Justin's lips brush against his ear: "The best kinds of friends are the ones
with benefits."
Yeah? Did Bryce teach you that? Alex wonders as he sharply exhales, but he
doesn't voice his disgust because...he's seventeen and horny. Listen, Alex
wishes that he was a saint on a pillar that could refuse advances from Justin,
but when one has the most handsome boy in his grade in one's bed, it becomes
hard to say no. His swallows back his consciousness, and the rain has reached a
fever pitch. There's a flash of lightening, and he can clearly see Justin's
parted lips, half hooded eyes, and mused hair. Alex leans forward, but Justin's
quick reflexes stop him with the palm of his hand. Right. No kissing. 
Instead, Alex lets his hand slide down Justin's forearm, and he's glad that
he's not the only one with goosebumps. He moves his hand back up, feeling the
bulge of Justin's muscles from hours of athletic training, and it's hard not to
be impressed. Justin moves so they're chest to chest, and his hand trails down
from where they've been resting over Alex's heart down to the elastic of his
pajama bottoms.
"My dad would not like you if he knew about this," Alex darkly snickers as
Justin tugs at his pajamas. 
"What he doesn't know," Justin lets his fingers possessively curl around Alex's
bulge. "Won't hurt him."
"You sure we still talking about my dad?" Or about Bryce?
A clap of thunder. 
Alex can barely bite back the whimper that leaks from his lips as Justin
massages him over the material of his clothes. Precum smears against the fabric
as it grows wetter and wetter. Their foreheads are pressed together. The
intimacy is overwhelming, and it's nothing like their other two encounters.
They're free to touch each other how they want. Alex reaches down, fingers
trembling, and squeezes Justin. The foreign heat of a boy in his grip makes his
own cock twitch against Justin's hand. They're all hushed intimacy under bed
covers.
"I can't believe how inexperienced you are," Justin mutters as he caresses him.
"It's so cute."
"H-how many times have you...?"
"Since middle school."
Oh my fucking god.
"Our first time was in eighth grade. Locker room. He pushed me up against the
lockers like he was gonna beat me up. We were fighting about something, and
then we were panting, wrestling on the floor until...until we were both hard.
Then he was pulling down our basketball shorts and...I had been so easy. Fuck.
Desperate even. He just kept whispering how good I was, and I'd never felt so
wanted. Thank fuck no one had walked in to see me looking like a little bitch.
He trained so good after that. Pool house. Showers. Bathrooms. All he had to do
was give me that look, and I'd go down to my knees. Just like that."
Justin's voice is a deep, vibrating tenor that goes straight to Alex's
hardening cock, and the images are so depraved that Alex can't help how his
body reacts to them, his stomach twists with something between disgust and
arousal. He's confused at how to react to the dirty whispers. God, this gives a
whole other meaning to the word whipped. Alex doesn't want to know, but he also
doesn't tell Justin to stop. So Justin tells him about it all. How Bryce had
given him everything but a collar. As he speaks, Justin rubs him through the
coarse material of his pajamas and boxers. Alex groans, half in pleasure and
half in pain. His underwear is wet with precum, and he's throbbing, unbearably
hard. 
Then Justin's fingers slip below the elastic band, and he whimpers as they wrap
around his cock. His hips involuntarily thrust forward into Justin's warm grip.
Justin, bigger than him, easily moves so he's pinned down. His lips are still
pressed to his ear as he continues the dirty stories.
"Summer of ninth grade we went to his parents beach house. He made me pick up
random boys from the boardwalk to take back and then watch me suck them off. I
was good at it. Sick fucking bastard got off on watching them use me."
"Why?" He gasps.
"Power," Justin muses as his hand slowly slides down Alex's length, and he's
not going to last long. Not with the rumble of Justin's voice and the easy
motion of his fingertips, squeezing down around him. He feels helpless to do
much more than take it. 
Justin's bulge is pressed up against his thigh, and it's clear that he's
fucking getting off on telling Alex these stories. Is this some sick sexual
therapy or is he being used? All Alex knows is that he loves the vibrations of
Justin's voice against his ear, and he's never been this turned on in his
fucking life. It's not just the act itself that's a high but the window of
escape. For a moment he's floating somewhere in Justin's soft breathe, melting
in the way his fingers caress him through his clothes.
Justin rubs his thumb over the head of his cock: "He likes it when I do that.
Fuck other people. Likes the idea that I'd bend over backwards to please him.
Put on a show for him. But you, Alex? You were all my idea."
As Justin speaks, hand slowly sliding down the length of him, his hips rock
forward. The bed squeaks under the combined weight of them. A bead of sweat
drips down Alex's chest. He can't move with Justin pushing him down, and his
expert hand moving against him. His skin is overheated and everything's
blurring in and out of focus. He can feel himself edging closer and closer,
toes curling in anticipation.
"F-fuck, J-justin."
"Shhh, don't want your dad to hear," Justin soothes as his fist starts to speed
up, grip tightening. "What's mine is his, b-but I don't want to share you.
Isn't that weird?" 
Alex cums quick, with a pathetic hitch of his breathe. His back involuntarily
arches as he spills into Justin's grip. Justin growls in frustration, still not
there, and guides Alex's hand down. He flushes at the feeling of Justin, so
large and nice, in his grip. He's only done this once before, so he has a hard
time keeping a steady rhythm. Justin's so close that it doesn't matter anyway.
Just three unsteady strokes, and he's cumming all over Alex's fingertips.
"A-and you never told him to stop?" Alex pants as he wipes the cum on his
pajamas. Another clap of thunder.
"And why would I? I fucking loved it. I'd been so desperate to have somewhere
to belong and now I had someone telling me exactly what to do and when to do it
and how to do it. Telling me I was good. I felt...safe. So long as Bryce
ordered it, I would obey. I mean" -Justin paused, looking hard at Alex, as
though his eyes would help Alex to understand, and then gestured helplessly, as
though perhaps his hand would help- "I mean do you know what kind of freedom
that is? You don't have to think about anything...your body, ah, it goes to
another place and for a moment there's no more pain. Just nothing. Like you're
dead."
And Alex wants to tell him about will power and how life is- well how it
could be beautiful. Alex wants to promise him that he'll help him to stop
hurting and that Justin doesn't need Bryce to escape like this, but Alex knows
it would just sound like empty lies. Instead, he promises himself that he'll
help Justin. No matter what. Then Alex sadly sighs as he remembers the glazed
look in Justin's eyes. So that's what it had been.
"What would he do if he knew? About us?"
He doesn't specify what 'us' is because he's not sure himself. 
"You don't want to know."
He sits up, and Alex catches his arm.
"Tell me. Please."
"He'd fuck you up so bad. Make your life hell."
"Because he, uh, loves you?"
Justin goes back to the sleeping bag: "Fuck no. Because he thinks he owns me."
Suddenly, Alex feels that Justin is trapped in this perpetual darkness, which
roars outside just like the rain, smashing against the window. It speaks
wordlessly. The dark emotions swirl around them and Alex is scared for Justin,
scared that he could be consumed by them. More scared for him than he is for
himself.
“But he doesn't own you," Alex speaks out, hoping somehow his voice will find a
home. “And I may not be able to stop everything bad from happening or- or
change everything bad that has happened to you. But you have to know I’m here.
Okay?"
"Okay," Justin says, but he sounds far away again.
"You don't want to go back to him. Do you?"
"I don't know if I can help it."
"Just stay here," Alex pleads.
No one answers but the howling wind. 
Chapter End Notes
     How do I go from hot coco to...this? Someone help this baby boi.
***** Werewolf *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Justin smiles at him in the morning, ruffling his bed head, like everything's
okay. Alex tries to wash away that innocent sight in the shower even as the
dirty words and actions from last night burn his cheeks. He scrubs himself
red and raw with a bar of soap, but he can't clean everything. When he closes
his eyes to try and touch himself, all Alex can imagine is Bryce and Justin
wrestling on the locker room floor. Their wrestling turns heated, as they rip
of their clothes, and then Justin has his head thrown back while they-
Fuck.
Alex turns the water to freezing, flinches, and flees the shower. He doesn't
feel safe in his mind anymore, and his whole body is betraying him, heating up
at thoughts that disgust him. He pulls on his clothes and shoots a text to
Hannah. 
I think Justin's a werewolf -A
Uh...what? -H
He's one way in the day time and another as soon as the moon's out. It's
actually...scary -A
What happened? -H
uhhhhh, shit. Lots of shit happened, and I don't know what it means. -A
Talk. To. Him. -H
how???? -A
Use your words. Don't just avoid things that make you uncomfortable -H
Ouch, sorry. Was that an indirect at me avoiding you? -A
No that was a direct message for you to talk things out with J -H
But he doesn't tell Justin any of those fears. He doesn't try to talk about
last night or ask about what happens tomorrow night. Instead, he asks Justin
what he wants for breakfast, and Justin teases him about being his 'boyfriend'
again. Alex wishes he wouldn't toss around that word so lightly. They don't
have time to make anything but toaster pancakes, which fail to fill up his
growling stomach. His dad gives them a ride to school, and they have no choice
since they missed the bus.
"Ah, thank you, Mr. Standall," Justin says as they pull up at the high school.
"I appreciate you letting me stay over. I promise you that I don't plan on
making it a habit, but I appreciate your hospitality."
His father gives Justin a warm smile: "Come over any time, son. We need more
boys like you in the house, you hear? The testosterone's good for Alex."
Ugh, fuck off, he thinks.
"Thank you, sir," he says instead.
Alex can feel people's eyes on him in the hallways as he walks side by side
with Justin; he has a sinking feeling that they all know somehow. They can all
see under his pale skin and white hair to the red hot desire that lies dormant,
waiting for night. In English class they're watching Romeo and Juliet the
movie, but Bryce's eyes are hot against the back of his head. Yeah, that dick
defiantly knows. Alex's palms and pits are so sweaty that he has to excuse
himself to hide in the bathroom. If he had anything more substantial inside
him, he might have heaved. Instead, he sits on the toilet and hides his face in
his hands. He feels frozen again, overwhelmed, like he's back on that smoky
couch, trying not to fall off.
The three of them -he, Justin, and Hannah- take a table in the corner, but it
feels that they’re sitting at the center of something unstable, ready to
shatter at any moment. The laughter and roar of the students in the cafeteria
sounds harsh. We're all so fragile, Alex thinks, can we make it? Even to the
end of this period?
"How was your night?" Hannah says with all the faux-innocence she can muster.
Alex kicks her under the table.
"Stormy," Justin mutters, pushing his peas back and forth on the tray, but he's
speaking over their heads, looking over at the head table, where the original
gang of boys are seated. Bryce isn't looking, though he must know they're over
here, and Alex wants to roll his eyes at this whole thinly veiled game. It
makes him wonder...did Justin only agree to come over to his house to get back
at Bryce? Was Alex nothing more than just a vindictive rebound? Another pawn in
this game whose rules keep changing? Zach looks over his shoulder at them,
brows furrowed, but then snaps back at something Bryce tells him. The rest of
the team occasionally glance over too. Jessica passes them by on her way to sit
with the cheerleaders, and she raises her brows at the sight of them all
squished together at one table.
Tony Padilla crashes down next to Hannah: "Hey, wassup, amigos? Uh...I'll take
the awkward silence as a greeting. So what's the cause of this unusual
gathering? Did King Bryce die?"
"Friends can eat together without it being fucking dramatic," Alex snaps.
"Friends since when? Yesterday?" Tony asks.
"Since mind your business," Alex mutters. "Don't you have a boyfriend or
something to eat with?"
Hannah gives him a sharp look: "Dude. Not cool."
"What? Everyone knows they're dating. It's not mean if it's, like, true."
"Nah, it's fine, Hannah. I sense I'm unwanted, but Alex -word of advice- I
wouldn't throw stones before looking at my own house."
What does that mean? Fucking unhelpful Yoda. Wait...does he know? Did Hannah
tell him?
Alex flushes as he remembers the warmth of Justin's palm wrapped around him,
but when he glances over at Justin, the boy's not paying them any attention. He
turns to Hannah who shrugs and shakes her head.
God, it feels the eyes of the whole school is burning into the back of him, and
he struggles to swallow any of his lunch with the fear that's settled in the
bottom of his stomach like a block of ice. It melts all day long as he trudges
from class to class. It’s a special kind of ice that never seems to get any
less. Alex feels like he’s overflowing as it hardens, shrinks, and then
expands; he wonders if his guts are going to spill out when he glimpses the old
gang standing around the lockers.
Justin passes by and Bryce smiles and waves him over. Justin sways and then
moves -like a magnet forced to go towards it's opposite pole- towards Bryce.
Alex feels the ice melting through his hot veins at the sight. Justin's eyes
are wide and hopeful like a puppy that's gotten a glimpse of its master, and
Alex hates that he knows why. He knows that Justin has been conditioned to
respond like that. But knowing and understanding are two different things. He
knows but he can't understand why he keeps going back for more.
"Where were you the last couple nights?" Bryce asks as he slings a hand over
his shoulder and squeezes him close.
"Just staying with a friend," Justin says, casually.
"Who?" Bryce presses. "You got, like, a secret girlfriend or something? Is that
why you've been avoiding me all week?"
Justin, with his horribly direct eyes, cuts through to him across the hallway,
and Alex feels his weak heart twist as their eyes met.
"No."
"Cause you'd tell me if you were hanging out with anybody, right?"
"Yeah. Don't worry. It was nobody."
Alex squeezes his books to his breaking chest as he walks to his chemistry
class, and he wishes he could melt into the floor. He'd tried so hard to reach
out and do something good but...for what? To be called a nobody?
Justin's still his lab partner, and they work in silence. Ever since his
unanswered plea from last night, it seems that a veil has descended again. Alex
wants to yell, but he has to bottle up that frustration, bite it down, swallow
harder. Every cell in his body screams against this oppressive silence. In
between them are the soft pants from last night. These secrets hold them
together and yet force them apart. 
"So...you want to come over again?"
"Huh?" Justin's texting in his lap. "Nah, like I told your dad I don't want to
burden you guys or whatever. I think my mom broke up with her last boyfriend,
so I should be good for a couple weeks."
"Yeah, sure but do you still...?" Like me? Want me? Give a shit about me?
"Wha'? I'll come over another time. There's gonna be, like, a party at Bryce's
this Friday after the big game, so...if you wanna come."
How is it that they're standing right next to each other in chemistry and yet
the divide has grown exponentially?
"I'll probably have a lot of homework."
"On a Friday? Come on don't be lame, Standall."
Alex can't even meet his eyes as the words from the hallway and the whispers
from last night ring in his ears. All he can imagine -horrible images he
doesn't want to put names to- is Justin's face resting in Bryce's lap, looking
up at the other boy with his beautiful eyes. Alex can't even distinguish
between his feelings of jealousy and arousal and anger; they all come together
like some horrible chemical reaction boiling under his thin skin.
"Will Jessica be there?" Alex asks dryly, but the words don't feel right in his
mouth. He's forcing himself to read from some sort of script of 'acceptable'
dialogue, but he's choking back the words that he really wants to say. He
watches Justin's face, trying to see if the thought of Alex seeing someone else
will hurt him.
Justin only gives him an easy smirk: "Oh, is that the hot cheerleader chick?
I'd put my money on a hard yes cause Bryce invited their whole squad. You
should come."
The bell rings, saving him from the hell that is this conversation. Alex stays
behind to clean their lab station and wishes life was as simple as a chemistry
problem. It's the only class he does OK in because there's a logic to it. The
numbers in chemistry, unlike math class, are connected to some reality and
that's what Alex wants so badly- to have something real. He's tired of midnight
rendezvous that always leave him feeling sticky and sad in the morning as the
illusion of intimacy evaporates. Why can't he have someone who will hold him
tightly? A real bond? The realization makes his heart twist. 
"I swear that I'm swearing off Justin," he tells Hannah by her locker. 
"Not into his werewolf routine?" Hannah says sympathetically and opens up her
arms. He buries his face into her warm hair as he embraces her. Behind her
shoulder, he can see that kid Clay glaring at him while Jessica walks by them
without a second glance. Great, why does everything he do seem to piss people
off the wrong people? 
"High school is so fake," Alex sighs as he pulls away. "Everyone says what they
don't mean and means what they don't say."
"Because you're Mr. Honesty, right?" Hannah jokes and elbows him.
She smiles and waves at Clay, who flushes and almost closes his locker door on
his hand. Those two are so fucking obvious. 
"He's into you," Alex faux-whispers and Hannah goes bright red.
"Shhhh! Shut up; no, he's not!"
"It's obvious."
"When you sort out your own boy problems then you can give me advice."
Just then Alex spots Tony, and he remembers their conversation from lunch. He's
not gay but he's also not...not gay, and he figures if there's anyone who would
know what to do, it's Tony. He hates to admit he needs help, but what choice
does he have?
"Uh, sure. Give me a second though. I need to ask Tony something."
Hannah gives him another knowing look, and Alex nervously tugs at his nose ring
as he approaches Tony.
"Hey, listen. About lunch- I mean sorry for being rude. I'm kinda...in a weird
place right now."
Tony gives him a bored look and a 'uh huh.' He's intimidating with his broad
shoulders and muscles. That's why no one ever really makes fun of him for being
gay, and Alex wishes he had the balls to just be himself like that. Maybe he
hates Tony so much because he's secretly jealous of him.
"I..." Alex lowers his voice. "I've been having troubles with this person. Ok?"
"Justin."
"How-"
"You two are on Clay and Hannah level of obvious. At least to anyone paying
attention. Plus Bryce has been shooting daggers at your head all day, so...two
plus two equals he's fucking with you. Isn't that right?"
"Y-yeah..." Alex stutters. "I mean, at first I just thought we were like
fucking around, but lately I've been thinking it could be something more? What
do you think?"
Tony shakes his head: "Nah, I think once a 'straight' fuck boy always a
'straight' fuck boy. Don't hurt yourself Alex more than you already are, ok?
Because boys like Justin do nothing but break your heart. Trust me...I've been
in love with a couple 'straight' boys in my time here at school."
"I'm not even gay," Alex says, more to convince himself than Tony, who shrugs
and wishes him luck. 
Every conversation today has left him more unsatisfied than before. He returns
to Hannah and gives her a look that practically begs Monet's when his phone
buzzes. Speak of the devil...
No but seriously come Friday -J
I'll miss you if you don't -J
Don't make me beg -J
Alex shakes his head as he turns off his phone. 
I'm not gay, but I'm falling for a boy, who's in love with another boy. What
kind of melodrama?
Chapter End Notes
     Will these idiots ever talk about their feelings???
***** Relapse *****
Chapter Notes
     A longer chapter to make up for all the recent quickie chapters.
     Thank y'all for reading/supporting this twisted fic :)
     WARNING! If you're triggered by sex with dubious consent, don't read
     this.
Justin’s chilling out in his blue Varsity jacket, and Alex desperately wants to
run his fingers over it, pulling him closer. 
Instead, Alex sits on the distant couch with Zach and sips the yet un-spiked
fruit punch. He swirls the drink around and watches as Justin approaches
Jessica. He whispers something into Jessica's ear, and she giggles. Ugh, fuck
this. 
“Dude, you’re staring,” Zach reminds him, kindly. How this kid manages to be so
sweet when he hangs out with complete assholes is a mystery.
“I can’t even pretend that I’m not jealous,” Alex groans and pinches the bridge
of his nose. What happened to his promise that he’d stop fucking around with
Justin’s fuckery? He's not Bryce, so he doesn't get off on the thought of
Justin being with other people. He can’t look but he also can’t look away, so
he pulls out his phone to distract himself from this hell.
Jx2 are going to make out fuuuuck –A
You think he's just playing around? -H
who the fuccc knows at this point???? -A
UGggghhhhhhh -A
I wish u were here :’( -A
Not helping rumors that we’re dating –H
Maybe we should date just to make those fuckers jealous –A
Ugh thanks but no thanks –H
Not into mind games –H
Just Clay? -A
SHUT UP -H
Wasn’t J the one who begged you to come? Maybe he’s fucking with you? –H
idk maybe. what should I do? –A
Here’s an idea...invite J to dance? To drink? -H
yea cept I have zero balls -A
Hm, grow some? –H
Ok but which J? –A
That’s your move to make ;) -H
Alex looks up to see Jessica slipping out through the door. She’s playing hard
to get, he bitterly thinks as he sips the sweet juice. Justin’s dark eyes
invite him over with a wink, but two can play at the jealousy game.
He downs the rest of his non-alcoholic drink as if it’s a fireball shot. With
Justin’s eyes hot on his back, he has the confidence to slip outside into the
cool, autumn breeze. Jessica is leaning against the bannister. He approaches
her before he loses the nerve, and Jessica doesn’t even try to hide the
disappointment when she looks up to see him standing above her.
“You look lovely,” he says with a crooked grin.
“You look like shit,” Jessica snorts. “Thought your new girlfriend might have
shown you how to dress. Or finally taken out that ridiculous, gaudy nose ring.”
Ouch.
“I’m single,” Alex protests and runs a hand through his white hair.
"Yeah? Me too," she says with a tight smile. "And I plan to keep it that way."
With that Jessica flips her curls over her shoulder and flounces off to Sherry,
who's stripping to get into the hot tub. He sighs and hides his face into his
hands, watching through the cracks of his fingers as Jessica shimmies out of
her dress into a rhinestone covered bikini. The setting sun makes her whole
body gleam golden. He's nothing but longing and regret tonight, huh?
J HATES me -A
But I still wanna make out -A
Which one? -H
Both tbh ajkfsdkjfhaksd -A
Am I bi? -A
Uh, I don't know. ARE you? -H
I'm too sober for this convo -A
Brb gonna blackmail Bryce for some of the top shelf liquor -A
Alex slumps back inside to find Justin pressed up to Bryce in the kitchen.
Gross. They're whispering about something that Alex has no desire to know.
Bryce glances up at him and smiles like he did their smokey night. Nowadays
just the scent of weed makes him more nervous than relaxed; he'll stick to
alcohol thank you very much.
"You want something stronger to drink," Bryce says, as if reading his mind, and
he's so fucking suave. Besides the one day that Justin stayed at his place,
Alex has never seen him upset. Once you're rich enough to get away with murder,
nothing bothers you anymore. Justin's not exactly looking at him, staring out
of the kitchen window at the hot tub instead. They're all a confusing tangle of
teenage hormones and fears. Adding alcohol can only make things worse but,
right now, Alex wants that. The week has been a monotonous drudge of tests, and
he's excited to let go.
So they pour a bottle of vodka into the punch bowl and slush it around in their
cups. Alex flushes when he feels Justin's pressed up so close to him. The rest
of the party has moved to the pool and hot tub, so they're the only ones left
inside the kitchen. Alex is drunk enough that everything's warm and easy, and
his hands have found themselves curled around Justin's letterman jacket.
Justin leans in, and Alex can feel his cock stirring at the brush of Justin's
wet lips against his ear. I want you, Justin whispers, and Alex vaguely wonders
if that's what he'd told Jessica too. Then Justin's fingers slip down and
squeeze him through the denim on his jeans. He defiantly didn't do that with
Jessica.
Bryce's eyes are hot against the two of them, and it's clear that he knows -
perhaps explicitly- all that they've done. Alex hates that. He hates how easily
Bryce has Justin spun around his fingertips and how he won him back without a
word; he hates that Bryce is always the one that Justin will pick when it comes
down to it; he hates how he can never have Justin completely. Not how he wants
him. Still, he allows Justin to massage him through the front of his jeans and
press little, promising kisses to the side of his neck. He allows his cheeks to
flush red. He allows himself to want Justin because he does. He wants Justin on
the most physical, primal level that there is.
He reciprocates Justin's affection with a kiss to his neck and a soft want you
too. He hopes the desperation doesn't leak into his voice, but he's sure it
does. Justin's fingers glide down his back, eliciting a shiver, and settle at
the curve of his spine. Bryce moves in too, and Alex can feel the weight of his
hand on top of Justin's. His cock throbs at the thought of being pressed
between the two basketball stars, and the rational side of his brain, not
completely drowned in alcohol, tells him to run. He's an amateur player
stepping into the court of two professionals, and Alex will surely get played.
Yet in this fleeting moment, Alex will take whatever scraps of affection he can
get. Is that more pathetic or practical?
"Come on," Bryce says with a smirk and nods towards what must be his
bedroom. Alex can't believe how quickly he obeys, but if he's going to let
himself sink this low for desire, he might as well go as low as he can. If that
means following Bryce's orders? Then so be it.
"I just want you. You know that right?" Alex dares to slur against the shell of
Justin's ear. The other boys eyes have already started to grow distant, blurry
with alcohol, but he blinks away the haze and rewards Alex with a sad smile. We
can touch but can't kiss, Alex interprets from the tightness of Justin's lips.
Why not? He wonders. Why can't we have everything and each other too?
But now Bryce has clicked the lock of his door and flicked the lights off,
so there's nothing but the last glimmers of sunlight to highlight his smirking
face. The pulse of the party music is the only sound save their unsteady
breathing. Alex's cock is straining against the constraints of his underwear
and jeans. The ball's in his court, but he's frozen, unsure of what move to
make. Luckily, Bryce, overbearing as always, is ready to do the 'thinking' for
them. He whispers something into Justin's ear, thumb brushing against the nape
of his neck like he's his puppy.
Justin drops down to his knees and, with surprisingly steady hands, undoes
Alex's belt. Alex flushes at the erotic action along with Bryce's eyes trained
against him, watching every micro twitch of his lips and eyes. Alex avoids
looking at Bryce as he eagerly wraps his hands in Justin's hair and tugs him
closer. Justin unzips him. Alex's toes curl inside his sneakers. 
"Stop."
Justin freezes, fingers still wrapped around him; Alex whimpers. Maybe this
game is more thrilling than he wanted because the direct order only makes him
harder. 
Bryce drops down to his bed, watching them with amused eyes. Behind him, a
bookcase of gleaming trophies look down at them. The statues form a golden
throne that Bryce is at the center of, and Alex bites back a bitter laugh as he
remembers Tony's 'King Bryce' joke.
The 'king' orders, "Alex, move to the right, so I have a better view of
Justin."
Alex is painfully hard and, judging by his smirk, Bryce knows that. Bryce knows
that vicariously he's holding Alex in the palm of his hands, and now he's
pushing to see how hard Alex will bend. It's a simple order, so Alex does what
he's told and shifts around. Is this the point of this whole demonstration?
Alex thought he was a viable player; therefor, Bryce is trying to show him that
he's nothing but a plaything. 
"Go slower, Justin," Bryce croons, voice so soft he easily could have tacked on
a baby. "We don't want little Alex to come as quickly as he did last time. Do
we? Barely even had time to watch."
Justin looks up at Alex through thick lashes, and his eyes have started to grow
distant, hazy with arousal and something else. Alex shivers as he remembers how
Justin explained the addictive nature of obediance, and he's sure that every
sharp word from Bryce is like a sweet high to Justin. Alex's stomach tightens,
and he's used to the familiar sting of arousal and disgust. Eager to obey,
Justin slowly kisses him through the white of his boxers.
"Tell him you want his mouth," Bryce commands, voice a low, vibrating tenor,
and Alex's cock involuntarily twitches at the sound.
Alex squeezes his eyes shut: "I want you."
Justin doesn't move.
Alex groans lowly in the back of his throat as he realizes that he has to say
it exactly like Bryce wants it.
"I-I want your mouth."
Justin pulls him smoothly out of his boxers, gripping him between the tightness
of his fingers. A little cum spurts out from the top at the sudden motion and
Alex squeaks in embarrassment. He's flushed and impatient, squirming as Justin
waits for Bryce's permission to proceed. The image of Justin's hand wrapped
around his cock, like it belongs there, is unbearable. Even with the descending
darkness of the setting sun, it's easy to see Justin's lips moving closer to
him. Bryce, on the other hand, is a dark silhouette. If not for the steady
sound of his voice, Alex would have been able to pretend he isn't there.
Alex holds his breathe, waits, and exhales when Justin finally parts those pink
lips. Justin's steadily presses an open mouthed kiss to the tip of Alex's hard
cock while Alex's hips erratically jerk forward. He needs to be inside. Can
still remember the sweet, sweet tightness of that mouth. 
"Slower," the dark figure behind them urges. "You look like you're going to cum
without even his mouth on you, Standall." 
The breathless, enthusiastic moan dies in Alex's throat as he swallows it back.
But Alex, as much as he tries, can't hide his trembling desperation. As soon as
Justin's wet lips move around his cock, he pathetically keens. The shadow
snickers. Alex flushes, tightens his fingers in Justin's hair, and tries to
steady himself from coming undone too quickly. He's desperate, not shameless. 
But Alex's thoughts combined with the steady suction of Justin's mouth make it
hard not to come apart; after all, the boy who is sucking his cock is Justin
motherfucking Foley. The star of the basketball team. The most handsome boy in
the grade. His crush. 
"Justin," Alex whimpers, almost reverent. How is that Justin is the one on his
knees but Alex feels like he's the one with no control? 
With the heat of Justin's mouth and the skillful drag of his tongue, Alex isn't
going to last long. He can feel tears sting the corner of his eyes as he tries
to keep himself from spilling inside Justin. It's so soft and warm inside. His
tongue teases the length of Alex's cock, and he helplessly moans as Justin
takes him all the way in. Justin softly snickers around him. The vibrations
force tears to sting Alex's eyes. He squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed, and
there's no way he's going to make it.
Perhaps Bryce can feel him getting close because he orders Justin to stop.
Justin obediently pulls back, and the sun highlights the line of saliva
connecting Justin's wet lips to the tip of his cock. Alex shudders as he hears
the squeak of the bed. 
"I've never seen anybody so obsessed with Justin," Bryce's voice is low,
dripping with derision, as it curls against his ear. Look in the mirror then.
"You want him."
It's not a question, so Alex doesn't answer. 
"You want to cum all over his slutty face" -Bryce's fingertips brush against
the small of his back- "Don't you?"
That's a rhetorical question, but Alex manages a breathless yes.  
"Will do anything to be with him," Bryce continues, and he presses his body
against Alex's. His fingers burn against Alex's damp skin; his erection is hot
against the curve of Alex's ass; and his chin rests against Alex's
shoulder. It's a sudden spike of intimacy that he hasn't anticipated, but Alex
doesn't recoil from it either. Maybe it's the drink. Maybe it's the sight of
Justin still kneeling before him. Either way he stays put.
Alex's disobedient cock twitches as Bryce low voice continues vibrating against
his ear.
"Wanna cum all over those pink lips. Look like girls lips, don't they?
Like...Jessica's lips." 
Justin, eyes dazed, flinches in recognition at the same time as Alex. He's not
sure if Bryce said it to hurt him or Justin, but now they're both squirming.
Alex can picture Jessica, with her hard eyes and soft breasts, watching them.
What would she think of Alex? Of Justin? The thought only makes his breathing
quicken, but when he tries to wrap his hand around himself, Bryce slaps it
away.
"Did I say you could finish, Standall?"
"B-but I got to-"
"My room. My rules. You're free to leave...but I don't think you do. Hm? I
think you're more fucked up then you want to admit. Think you'd like to punish
pretty boy Justin for being able to have what you couldn't. Couldn't cum
on Jessica's soft breasts or ass or lips. Couldn't cum on her face. But you can
cum all over Justin's, isn't that right?"
"A-ah, yeah," Alex gasps even though he's not sure what he's really admitting.
All he knows is that his orgasm is tightly coiled in the palm of Bryce's hand,
which is now splayed over the curve of his tummy. Bryce's hand drifts lower, so
it's ghosting right over his throbbing cock. His hips involuntarily jerk
upward.
"Tell me exactly what you want, Standall," he orders, voice throbbing and low.
Bryce is taking his own pleasure— gently rocking his own hardness against the
gentle slope of Alex's ass.
"I want," Alex stutters, "to...to cum all over Justin's face." 
"And you want me to help you?"
"Y-yeah."
Bryce's hand wraps around him: "His face or his lips?"
To get what he wants, Alex has to obey. He knows that, and the humiliation is
like a sharp stab in the pit of his stomach as he stares down at Justin's
parted lips. Bryce's big hand is stroking him; Alex squeezes his eyes shut and
leans back into Bryce's touch, giving himself up to the pleasure.  
"H-his lips." 
"Good boy," Bryce whispers, and Alex moans when he realizes that it's directed
at him, not Justin. The realization makes his knees buckle and toes curl. Alex
helplessly arches his back as he's made to cum all over Justin's face. The
liquid splatters all over those red cheeks and parted lips.
Alex has never cum so hard or fast, and he feels like he's going to pass out.
The room's spinning. He slumps onto the side of the bed, almost tripping over
the jeans around his ankles. Justin's licking the cum from his fingers as he
moves up on the bed with him. Bryce, unexpectedly, is on his other side,
rubbing his back and telling himit's ok. Bryce isn't nice unless he wants
something. And sure enough-
"Do you want to watch Justin finish me off?"
Uh, fuck no.
"I gotta-" Alex pulls up his jeans and gestures towards the door.
"Stay," Justin whines and catches him by the wrist. But on a list of things
that Alex wants to witness, Justin giving Bryce head isn't on there. Justin
turns the full force of his puppy dog eyes on Bryce. It's hard to resist him
with his flushed cheeks and overblown pupils. Bryce, after all this, has the
decency to flush.
"Ugh, fine. Whatever. Alex, do you want to...return the favor?"
Justin's sin in his letterman jacket, and Alex has been dreaming about how he
must taste since their first night together. Still, he's had enough of this
threesome; he wants Justin all to himself. Is that too much to ask? Maybe the
alcohol is wearing off or he's come to his senses post-orgasm. He just shakes
his head and stumbles away. The last image he has as he unlocks the door is
Justin sinking back onto the floor, face cradled in Bryce's lap. There's not
enough liquor in the world to make him forget. Does he want to forget?
Yes...no...maybe...not...
neeed u to pick me up -A
what happened???? -H
i..think I just had a very onesided threesome? maybe -A
WHAT -H
JX2?????? -H
no -A
(I wish it was those two tho) -A
sexual orientation: bi and sad as fuck -A
so who was it then? -H
not an over text convo -A
got it -H
pls pick me up. I'm drunkish and don't wanna go home -A
Be there in 10 -H
hurry b4 I go and suck a dick I regret -A
dickgret? -A
stay put be there soon -H
Alex vomits under the bushes and then almost falls asleep on the porch. He
hears the gentle tap of Hannah's shoes before he sees her. Alex blindly reaches
for her warmth and hides his face in her shoulder, where he stays for five
minutes. Or five years. Who knows? Time is gayer and faker than him. Alex
vaguely wishes that he'd had the good sense to fall in love with
Hannah.Instead, I'm pining over fucking Foley.
"Who do I have to beat up?" Hannah whispers and rubs his back.
"The school's basketball stars."
"Justin and...Zach?"
"Bryce."
Hannah's narrowed brows and wrinkled nose says it all.
***** Turning Point *****
Alex wakes up to Hannah's dad looking at him like he's a bag of rotting trash
that was dumped on the sofa. He weakly smiles at him and then flinches at his
throbbing head. This is gonna be a bitch of a hangover to try and get over.
Hannah's mom gives him an even dirtier look from over the frying pan as he
stumbles to the kitchen for some water.
"Not the best first impression?" Alex jokes as he pours himself some water from
the sink.
"You're Officer Standall's son?"
"Yes, m'am."
"And he knows you're out...?" Being a useless piece of shit?
"No, m'am."
"Well...sit down then. I'll make you some scrambled eggs," she says sharply and
then calls, "Hannah! Come down!"
She pounds down the stairs and mouths 'sorry' over her mother's shoulder.
had a good time last night ;) -J
u left in a hurry? -J
Yeah, cause you two are fifty shades of fucked up co dependence,Alex thinks but
doesn't type out. Instead, he turns off his phone and buries his head into his
hands. The lights are too bright. His memory is too clear, and he wonders if he
was even drunk. Maybe just tipsy? High off the adrenaline? He shudders as ghost
fingers brush down his spine. Alex struggles to stomach the eggs, but he downs
all of the orange juice.
"So..." Hannah's mom looks between the two of them. "Got a girlfriend, Alex?"
He sighs down at his phone: "No, just recently broke up. Hannah and I are just
friends if that's what you're asking."
"Oh, alright."
"Try not to look any happier, mom," Hannah mutters. Alex has a feeling if he
wasn't here, they'd be fighting about him. He nervously tugs at his nose ring.
Hannah invites him out to the park, and they walk under the shade and talk.
Mostly Hannah talks about Clay and work, and Alex tries to stay calm. He's
tired of this homosexual panic that he gets every time he has a sexual
encounter with the two of them. He needs to get his thoughts into order.
"Do you want to talk about...?"
"The threesome from hell? Nah but like- I mean I was kinda into some of it to
be fair. Like the parts with Justin involved. But somehow Bryce makes it feel
ugh."
"So say that," Hannah urges. "Maybe he doesn't know how you feel?"
"You're right. How could he know that I was uncomfortable with a lot of what
happened? I mean I didn't exactly say no at any point except the
end....Justin's been..." Brainwashed? "He's been doing this shit since
thirteen, so it probably isn't the same for him as it is for me. He can't walk
away from Bryce the same way that I can, you know? Ok. Here I go. Gonna be
fucking honest about how I feel."
"Proud of you."
Alex sits down on the swing and types: I liked it. Some of it. But I don't
think I'm into it being with the 3 of us tbh -A
Why not? -J
I'm more comfortable when it's just you -A
Hbu? -A
Silence. Great.
I'm bi. Bye the way -A
Congratulations . U going to a gay pride parade, now? -J
No...just thought you'd want to know -A
I'm not gay -J
uh huh. You just like sucking dick? -A
Fuck off. Didn't see u complaining -J
It's just fucking ridiculous at this point, and I'm tired of hating myself
every time we have sex -A
I'm not asking u to fly a rainbow banner....just be honest with me -A
(and yourself) -A 
I hate labels, and I hate you pretending you didn't like Friday when u did -J
Fine be like that -A
Fine  -J
Alex feels tears sting his eyes as he reads over the text, and he wishes they
could just talk without ten layers of defensiveness. But that's just not
realistic. He spends the rest of the day hanging out with Hannah and then
finally heads home. His dad has a massive fucking interrogation about what he's
'been up to.' Alex gives him a half-assed version of the truth and then wastes
his Sunday playing Overwatch.
By the time Monday comes, he's exhausted his ability to avoid reality. The back
of his neck prickles when he takes his seat in the cafeteria next to Hannah.
Justin’s glaring at him because...of course he is. Alex glares back until the
other boy has the decency to turn around. Hannah raises her eyebrows, but Alex
just shakes his head. Nope, not going back there again.
Ur avoiding me? -J
Not doing a good enough job -A
“Aw, turmoil in lovers paradise?” Tony jokes as he crashes by their table.
“Is your that kink? Fucking with me, Padilla? Huh?”
Tony steals one of his fries: “Mh, nah I’ll leave the mind fuck to Justin.”
“At least I get head,” Alex mutters at his tray, and Tony almost chokes with
laughter. Hannah pounds him on the back.
The phone in his lap buzzes: pls don't be mad at me, asshole.
The 'asshole' cancels out the 'please.''' -A
Meet me in the bathroom? -J
Why? Gonna blow me and then try to 'no homo' ur way out of it again? -A
Fuck you -J
I'd love to, but I think u might need a permission slip from B -A
can we please just talk like normal people? -J
he won't be there. I promise. -J
There's nothing normal about the shit that's been happening between the three
of them, but Alex decides to give Justin the benefit of the doubt. Maybe if
they did talk for once, in person, they could sort some of their shit out. He
gets up to go and Justin gets up at the same time. Subtle. Tony softly wolf
whistles as they head off together. When Alex pushes open the boy’s bathroom
door, Justin’s hand brushes against his; Alex pulls back an inch even though he
wants to move closer. 
Instead, Alex leans against the sink and crosses his arms, waiting. Justin
bangs open the stall doors one by one to make sure that no one is listening in.
Alex can tell by the firm line of his jaw that Justin's angry, but he's not
sure why. Ok, no that's a lie. He has an idea why Justin's angry, and -if he's
being honest- it makes his heart flutter to know that he still cares about
Alex. 
“Can’t even piss in peace anymore, huh, Foley? What are you even pissed off
about?"
Justin runs a hand through his soft brown hair and looks at him with those
eyes. The one that makes a shiver run down Alex’s spine, and he wishes he
wasn’t so gone for the boy. God, Justin Foley is like a bad choice personified.
“Listen. It's about Friday. I thought you were more into it, and I'm...I should
have checked to make sure you were. I just assumed you were and- ugh, I don't
like that you're mad at me."
“We already went over this over text, ok? I liked some parts of it- like you
know,” Alex lowers his voice and flushes. “When you went down on me. I just
hate that we have to dance to the tune of that douche bag. Maybe I just want
you to myself? Is that so hard to imagine?"
Justin leans in, so he’s pressing Alex against the sink: “What are you talking
about? You can have me.”
Alex squirms at the sudden intimacy. Their lips are mere inches apart, and a
drop of sweat trickles down his neck as he looks down at them. So soft...
“N-not the way I want.”
“And how’s that, Standall?”
Alex roughly swallows, and his cock twitches at Justin’s larger body pressing
him into the sink. The cold porcelain cuts into his back. This is dangerous:
someone could walk in and expose them. Alex should push Justin away, but he
doesn't want that. No, he wants to pull him closer and closer and closer. Wants
to taste his lips.
"In a lot of ways but...let's start with a kiss," Alex decides, head cocked. 
Justin flushes dark red like he hasn't already buried his hands and lips
between Alex's thighs. How is it that one kiss is this scandalous? But Alex is
going to hold his ground with Justin No Homo Foley. If they're going to
continue this games, he wants a little control. A little honesty. He vaguely
wonders if Justin and Bryce have ever kissed, and, for some reason, he bets
they haven't. Justin's eyes flicker down to Alex's lips, but then he spins
around to glare at the door.
"Not here. Someone could walk in and-"
So Alex does something stupid and roughly pushes Justin into the stall, locking
the door behind them. While Justin looks shocked at being manhandled, his
surprise quickly turns into dilated desire. 
"It's gotta be a real one too. No pecks. No 'no homo'ing afterwards either. I
want a real ass kiss, Justin."
There's a tense moment of silence, where he's afraid that Justin's going to
push him away and run.
"When did you get so demanding?" Justin groans as he rubs his face in his
hands. "I can't believe I'm doing this sober."
"I can order you to kiss me if that's easier for you," Alex snarks, and it's a
tad crueler than he intended. He opens his mouth to apologize, but then he
realizes that Justin's eyes have dilated darker at the words. Surprising? No.
Depressing? Yes.
"This might come as a shock to you, Alex, but I can do the fuck I want. Kiss
you. Not kiss you. With or without orders."
"Prove it," Alex demands. Justin grabs him by the collar of his shirt, so
they're once more chest to chest, except Justin is the one with his back
pressed against the stall. He's looking down at Alex with a cross between anger
and arousal. Alex is flushed and breathless in anticipation, but he stops
himself from leaning in. No, he wants Justin to be the one who makes the move.
Wants him to realize that they both want each other. That their desire is real
and separate from Bryce. He can see the fear, dark and real, in Justin's eyes,
so he decides to goad him a little more. 
"What are you afraid of? I don't bite...unless you're into that."
"Shut up, Foley," Justin snaps. "You're so annoying. So why...why do I like you
so fucking much?"
"Bad judgement?"
"Clearly."
Then Justin breaks the space between them, and presses his lips against Alex's.
Despite the harshness of his words, Justin's lips are the softest part of him.
Alex closes his eyes, moaning softly, at the feeling of Justin against him. Oh,
he parts his mouth and Justin does too. The soft smack of their lips against
one another makes Alex sigh as he cups Justin's face in his hands.
"It's not much different from kissing a girl, you know?"
Alex rolls his eyes.
"Cept the fact that my boner's pressing up against your thigh?"
Justin grins and kisses him again: "That's hot though."
But no homo?
Alex is just so happy to finally have Justin all to himself that he doesn't
care enough to push the issue. Justin's sexuality is his own business to figure
out: he can't tell Justin what label to use or not. All he knows is that
there's nothing heterosexual in the way they're kissing now. He sighs into
those soft lips and lets his hand fall down Justin's chest, caressing him. He
gropes Justin through the denim of his jeans. This is the most sober and aware
of each other that they've ever been, which heightens every sensation. He's
panting against Justin, rutting against his leg.
“Wanna taste you,” Alex gasps as he caresses Justin's bulge. “And I want to be
the only one who gets to see you come apart.”
“And who said I don't want that too?” Justin says with a grin as he undoes his
belt.
They only have five minutes until the bell rings, but Alex’s mind can’t
comprehend anything past the sensual unzipping of Justin's jeans. He’s down on
his knees, breathless. The two of them are insane. He goes from wanting to slap
the shit out of Justin to kissing him to...dropping down to his knees in the
span of one minute. The marble of the bathroom floor is cold against his knees,
and, yeah, he's never done this before. He looks up at Justin through his
lashes and gives him a look.
"If I suck...don't tell me." 
"Shhh," Justin whisphers. "You'll be fine."
Alex palms Justin through his underwear, feeling how nice and thick he is.
Justin smirks down at him and runs his hands through Alex's blonde hair. They
have to hurry, but Alex wants to take all the time in the world. Wants this to
last forever. They're in the worlds dirtiest bathroom stall, but for Justin?
Alex would do anything.
"Like this?" Alex asks as he pulls Justin out of his Calvin Kleins and runs a
slow hand down the length of him. Judging by the slack of Justin's jaw and the
flutter of his lashes...yes, yes it is. 
"Keep going," Justin urges, and his voice has gone soft though he's painfully
erect. Alex's cheeks flush darker at the sight of Justin above him, growing
harder with every stroke. Down and up and down and up. 
"How's tha-"
"Less talking. More cock sucking" Justin hisses, and Alex only smirks because
it's cute to see him try and give orders. He fails to mimic Bryce's natural
dominance and lands closer to petulant child. It's adorable. 
"A please wouldn't hurt," Alex teases as his lips brush against the tip of
Justin's cock. A bead of precum bubbles up at the top and drips down over
Alex's thumb. 
"Ah," Justin manages. 
"That's Ah-lex," he corrects as Justin groans. 
"Please shut up, Standall." 
"The 'shut up' negates the plea-"
"Please, for fuck's sake," Justin moans, hiding his loud mouth in the crook of
his elbow, and Alex takes pity on him. Using one hand to steady the boys hips,
Alex slowly takes Justin into the warmth of his mouth. He concentrates on
breathig through his nose, tentatively rocking back and forth.  
"Mh-" Justin makes encouraging noises even as he tries to stay quite, and, by
the erratic buck of his hips, Alex wonders if he's Justin's first. 
The weight of a boy against his tongue is so foreign, but...he likes it. He
loves the soft whimpers that leak from Justin's lips as he bobs his head. 
"Ah-alex," Justin pants as he pulls back, and cums all over his face. Alex
licks his salty lips and cringes. Ugh. But Justin's lips, which he kisses right
afterwards, are sweet enough. Alex cups his face in his hands. 
"Ew, I can taste myself on you," Justin says and wrinkles his cute face. Alex
hates that face because it just makes him giggle like some lovestruck school
girl. Isn't this the same boy he wanted to choke five minutes ago? 
"Karma."
"For what?"
Alex rolls his eyes: "For...roping me into your whatever-it-is with he-who-
will-not-be-named."
"Bryce is not as evil as Voldemort, dick."
"No, you're right," Alex snorts. "Bryce is way worse." 
Riiiiinnnng
"Bye, Standall. Or should I say bi Standall?" 
Justin tries to go, but Alex pins him to the stall door, dosen't let him.
"Dude, I gotta go to class."
"This is our secret."
"Yeah, duh."
"No, I mean what we have. It's a two people thing. Right? Please don't tell him
like last time."
"I promise."
Alex wants to trust Justin. He does. But he's worried.
"Ok. A quick rule then- no Bryce. Period. Yeah?" 
"Yeah. And no love or labels on this," Justin fires back.
"Yeah, sure."
So why does his heart twist as he watches Justin leave? 
***** Not A Love Song *****
Chapter Notes
     Don't try this at home, kids.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Alex sits on his front porch and strums his guitar as the sky flushes red. He
once made up a song for Jessica, but he’s forgotten how it goes. He remembers
that he'd been too nervous to sing it to her, afraid she'd laugh, and...yeah,
that about summed up their relationship. The words to Jessica's song are long
gone. Now, all he knows as he plucks the strings is the pathetic pitter-
patter heart when he saw Justin laughing in the hallways today.
Alex always wants more and more than he’s allowed to have, and his desire
compels him to sing:
Know a boy like a rainstorm-
leaves me worn and torn.
He can only make those two lines flow, and the rest won’t come. Alex strums
those three cord over and over and hums the words to himself. The stormy night
repeats in his mind, and he sighs as he remembers how close they'd been in that
intimate moment. So close and yet...still so far....
Alex tries again:
Know a boy like a rainstorm-
leaves me in a flash of scorn.
What does scorn even mean? He just knows it kinda rhymes and makes him think of
lightening.
He strums at his guitar and hates 'love songs' with every fiber of his being.
Wait- is this a love song? No, no of course not. This is just a song for your
'bro,' who you have not-so-platonic hate sex with, Alex thinks with the flicker
of an eye roll. He's not in love, of course not. He's just in...trouble? Yeah
that's it. He's fallen into the steady trouble of Justin's grip, and, ever
since their kiss in the bathroom, he hasn't been able to escape. All he can
remember is the soft smack echoing in the bathroom, trapping him in that
blissful moment.
Know a boy like a rainstorm-
lips so cold they leave me warm.
He strums with one hand and records the simple melody for snap chat. He is
about to hit share, pauses, deletes, and then uses 'she' instead of 'he' when
he re-records. Nothing like sharing your heteronormative loneliness with your
friends.
Alex bitterly laughs after because the fact that he cared enough to change the
pronoun is so sad. All of this hot-cold game is sad. One moment Justin's eyes
are heated against him in the hallway, and the next second he's chattering away
with Bryce, leaning into his touch. Alex always freezes at the sight, afraid
that Justin's spilling the secrets of their kiss. He really wishes that he
could trust Justin, but how can he?
Their whole 'relationship' started in smoke and maybe that's how it's destined
to end. The thought makes Alex's heart twist, and he really wishes that it
would stop doing that whole sad twisty thing. The setting sun has bathed the
street in a deep red, but Alex is an overflowing blue.
Tired of not-love-songs, Alex packs away his guitar. His phone buzzes.
Stop pining over snapchat. Love is gross -H
C not ask you to the dance? -A
no! -H
Well...yeah :( -H
Wanna hang out? -A
not tonight. Actually got school work to do! -H
But you HAVE to go dress shopping with me tomorrow for the dance -H
Ew. The dance. -A
J not ask you out? -H
Which J???? -A
I swear ur vague on purpose -A
;))))) -H
I'm only going to the dance to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid -A
Like what? Hook up with Justin? -H
Yep. A mistake I keep making -A
And want to keep making? -H
uGHHHHH -A
(maybe) -A
Alex goes inside and has dinner in silence with his older brother, who asks him
'which bitch he's pining over?'. Gross. Alex just gives him a side eye. When he
was younger, he thought that they'd mixed him up with the wrong boy at the
hospital. How did a gangly music-loving boy like him get born into a family of
muscle heads? He's always been the pale black sheep of the family. Alex wraps
up the leftovers and hurries up to his room, where he takes out his guitar
again and listlessly strums. His phone buzzes, and his heart stops when he sees
the name at the top (Justin Fucking Foley). 
Yo. Can I crash? -J
Uh, yeah? -A
Good, open ur window -J
Alright, Romeo -A
I'm going for more of a Spiderman -J
As long as I'm not Mary Jane -A
Nah u can be Deadpool -J
Alex bites his lip to stop himself from smiling because he's not sure Justin
knows how much homoerotic tension there is between Spiderman and Deadpool. Or
maybe Justin already knows that? Who knows with that boy.
He pushes up the window and snickers when he sees Justin climbing up. If Justin
was going for superhero, he's landed closer to struggling sidekick. Alex grabs
Justin's arm and helps pull him into the room. Justin falls against him with a
huff, flushed with exertion. Just like that they're chest to chest, sprawled on
the floor, and Alex isn't sure what the rules are exactly, so he asks-
"If I kiss you, are you gonna run?"
"Yeah, I'll jump out the window," Justin says with an eye roll but also pulls
back when Alex tries to peck him on the lips. Alex crosses his arms and pouts
on the floor. Ugh, getting affection from Justin is harder than it should be at
this point. The lines are blurry, and Alex is seventeen and horny with his
crush in the room. His fingers twitch, still slightly sore from strumming at
his guitar, and he wants to wrap them in the softness of Justin's hair.
Instead, he tugs at the strands of his own hair.  
"Look I know we're not a thing thing, but we're a thing, aren't we?"
Justin collapses onto his bed and pulls off his shirt: "Was that English,
Standall? Try again."
"I want...I really want-" Alex stumbles, and he's not sure what's blocking him?
What is he scared of? Alex roughly swallows as Justin undoes his belt, flushing
with desire at the sight of his Calvin Kleins, and- oh, he's very scared of
losing this. Whatever this is. 
"To mess around?"
"Yes," Alex sighs, even though that's not exactly what he mean't. 
"No, duh," Justin scoffs as he kicks off his jeans. "So why are you getting
your panties in a twist all of a sudden? We're both here. You're queer. I'm
horny. And don't worry- Bryce didn't wire tap me."
"You haven't told him...?"
"You're kidding, right? I hate you, but I don't want you to actually die,"
Justin snorts and crawls under the covers. He looks up at Alex with those
bright eyes, and Alex's hard heart melts. His legs can't keep him up, so he
wrecklessly drops onto the bed. Justin's fingertips brush against the curve of
his arm, and the hint of a touch already has him flushed. Can I get anymore
pathetic? 
"Maybe we should just sleep," Alex hears himself whispher but that's not what
he mean't either. 
"Okay. If that's what you want."
Alex's stares up at the dark ceiling and tries to steady his breathing, tries
to think of something other than Justin's toes purposefully brushing against
his. This bed is not mean't to hold the weight of two high school boys, and
when he turns his back to Justin, it angrily squeaks. There's fingertips softly
rubbing circles against his back, and he arches it- trying to get away? Or
overwhelmed at the pleasurable feeling?
Both. 
Justin's fingers rest against the curve of his waist, and his lips press
against his ear: "Come closer. It's cold."
Alex openly rolls his eyes: "Okay, that's just code for 'I'm horny.' Isn't it?"
"Mh, got me all figured out, huh, Standall?"
"No, I'm still confused," Alex sighs as he twists his neck around, so their
faces are inches apart. Justin's cool peppermint breath warms Alex's cheeks.
"Look like you know what you want from here," Justin taunts, and his fingertips
drift down to snap at the elastic of Alex's pajama bottoms. He flushes
eagerly at the attention. He can feel Justin's own bulge growing harder as it
presses against the curve of his ass, and this is the most intimate they've
been since bathroom-gate. It's overwhelming and underwhelming all at once. Too
much and not enough.
Alex groans: "But do you want the same thing?" 
"Try me."
"I want to...forget it." 
Alex turns away and just buries his face in the pillow. It seems words are
futile when their bodies are speaking more clearly than their mouths ever can.
Justin hugs him closer and slowly starts to rock against him, and, ah, yes that
feels nice. The heat of Justin's cock rubbing against him is nice. Really,
really nice. He just wants to close his eyes and numbly lose himself to this
pleasure, but he also promised himself no more waking up sticky and regretful.
Justin leans forward, pressing his cock against the curve of Alex's ass, and
whispers, "Hm? Come on, Deadpool, give me some of that inner monologue. Instead
of just assuming you know the fuck I'm thinking. You need to get out of that
head of yours, Alex. Because I can assure you, everything you're thinking of,
I've done. Or wanted to do."
Another well timed thrust, and Alex is burning with desire. His stomach
uncertainly twists. 
"I don't know."
"Use your words, baby." 
Alex twists around, so they're chest to chest: "Fine. One, don't call me that,
asshole. Two, I want to kiss you right now. How's that?"
Instead of answering, Justin closes the space between them, and Alex gasps. He
presses back up against him, their hard chests lined up as their soft lips
smack against one another. Justin's leg pushes in-between Alex's thigh, and the
air is electric. He can't breathe, uneasily gasping, as he threads his fingers
through Justin's hair. Finally. It's hard not to be smug, and Alex can't hide
his smile when it's pressed up against Justin's mouth. He happily hums as
Justin's leg continues to push between his thighs. He's fully erect now at the
wonderful friction.
"Fuck. Why didn't we do this sooner?" Justin gasps as he pulls back.
"It was too gay?"
Justin snickers, "Yeah, that was great logic on my part. This is all pretty
gay."
"Oh, wow. No, really? What gave it away?"
Although Justin admitting it shocks him. Wow, now that's character development
if he's ever seen it.
"You're so annoying- least when we kiss, you shut up."
Justin grips the back of Alex's face, and the move makes his cock twitch. It's
so sudden and direct and...possessive. The feeling of Justin's larger hands
holding him like he's something precious is new. He's so used to being pushed
away that being pulled closer is exciting. He's impressed that Justin's taking
control. True, he does have more experience because of his girlfriends, but
Alex is used to him being passive. There's nothing passive in this aggressive
kissing. Alex feels like they're being too loud, failing to swallow eachother's
moans, as they grind up against one another.
"Shhhh, my dad's in the other room," Alex has to pull back and whisper.
"You're the one moaning like a little bitch, Standall."
Justin pushes Alex back, so he's flat against the bed, and straddles him. Alex
squirms under Justin, flushed, at the sudden change of positions. Justin looks
like some sort of greek god with his bare chest, the light of the moon
outlining his lean abs. Alex just wants to explore every curve of that stomach
with his tongue. Wants...wants more things than he can put names to. Justin's
black-undie-clad ass rubs against the crotch of his pajama bottoms; Alex
helplessly moans at the hot friction. 
Justin covers Alex's mouth with the palm of his hand but leaves his nose open,
so he can breathe.
"What did I say about moaning?" 
Alex eyes widen, and unlike the fumbling attempts in the bathroom, Justin's
motions are much smoother. Maybe it's the darkness that's given him confidence.
Maybe Justin is a were-gay, only able to function in the light of the
full moon.
Alex doesn't care so long as Justin keeps rocking his ass against the bulge of
his pajama bottoms. Alex's breathing harshly through his nose, struggling to
get enough oxygen, and he feels wonderfully dizzy. He might cum just from this
erotic deprivation. Alex doesn't know what Justin's doing, but he likes it
very, very much.
"See? Isn't it easy to get off on being held down? Dominated?" Justin growls,
and Alex's smugly certain that Justin has never done something like this for
Bryce, wouldn't dare. No this performance is for Alex and Alex alone. 
He can't reply, but he can look up at Justin with dilated pupils, nonverbally
begging him to continue. Faster, please, Justin, love how you feel rubbing up
on me. Love how you're taking control.
As if he can read Alex's mind. Justin speeds up his rocking motion, and the
pressure of Justin's ass makes Alex's toes helplessly curl. Makes his back
arch. Make his eyes flutter. 
Justin lets out a tiny whimper of his own as he lets his head fall back in
ecstasy. They're truly pushing lines that they've never pushed before tonight,
and Alex's stomach tightens possessively at that thought. Justin's desperation
is for him and him alone. This ass grinding down against him is his and his
alone.
He should be worried that his dad or brother could come in at any minute, but
he's past the point of worrying. Justin's bringing him farther and farther away
from any worries. There's nothing except for that hand against his mouth. That
ass against his throbbing cock. That Justin fucking Foley against him,
dominating him.
Justin lets his free right hand slip down his chest to squeeze his own bulge;
then he pulls himself out. Alex's mouth waters at the sight of Justin stroking
himself on top of him.
"Ah-alex," Justin whimpers. Not Standall. Not Bryce. Alex. 
Justin smirks down, knowing what he's doing to him. Alex is dizzy and painfully
hard. He can feel precum smearing down his boxers. Sweat drips down the side of
his forehead. Desire curls tighter and tighter in the pit of his stomach. 
"Cum already," Justin says, half pout and half order and pointedly grinds down
against him. The petulant tone is just so...Justin. 
Those two words push him over the edge, and back arching, Alex cums inside his
undies.
"Aw, you came before me- I win," Justin taunts and releases Alex's mouth.
He gasps for breath, cheeks flushed as he comes down from the high of his
orgasm.
"Didn't realize we were, uh, competing?" 
Justin smirks as he leans down to press their foreheads together: "Always
competing."
"And what did you win?"
"Your mouth," Justin says simply and pulls back. 
Alex tries to reach up and help Justin, but his hand gets slapped away.
Instead, Justin scoots up his chest, so he's almost inches from his face. Wow,
Alex's spent cock twitches at the sight of Justin stroking himself so openly on
top of him.
"There's only three ways to shut you up, Standall. One- with my mouth. Two-
with my hand. Three -and I like this one best- open up."
Alex obeys, and, wow, maybe he can understand why Justin gets off on this whole
obedience thing. His eyes start to glaze over as Justin thrusts into his mouth.
Alex likes this feeling of letting go. He's just barely gotten his breath back
and now Justin's taken it away. Tears sting his eyes as Justin fucks his mouth.
He's doing nothing besides providing a warm, wet place for Justin to thrust
inside. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and-
"Ah- Ah-lex-" Justin moans again as he pulls back and cums all over his parted
lips and flushed cheeks.
"Gross," Alex whines as he licks it from his lips and then spits it out. Well,
the taste hasn't improved.
"Don't be a baby, baby," Justin coos even as he reaches over and wipes Alex's
face with the back of his hand. He won't admit it, but he likes the low tenor
of Justin's voice right now as he takes care of him and the way he calls him
his baby,even if it's just a joke. He likes that Justin isn't rushing away to
class or to Bryce. No, he's staying right here with Alex, mocking and fussing
over him at the same time. For the first time, Alex's whole body relaxes.
Him? Enjoying sex? A concept.
Alex is exhausted and about to fall asleep, turning to his side, when he hears
a voice. He sits up, afraid to lose the words, and grabs his guitar where it
still sits on the foot of the bed.
Justin moans, "What the hell? Go the fuuuck to sleep, Standall."
"I just thought of the perfect verse for the song I've been writing about you."
"About me? It's not some gay-ass-love-song song, is it?"
"Wha- no, no of course not. It's, uh, like a character study."
"Well play your 'study' then," Justin yawns. "So we can get some sleep."
Alex picks up the guitar, strums the cords from before, and softly sings:
Know a boy like a rainstorm-
makes me toss and turn in bed
wondering when he'll transform
into clear blue skies instead.
Justin's quite in the dark, and Alex holds his breathe.
Silence.
"You wrote that? For me?"
Alex slowly exhales: "Yeah, pretty gay, I know."
"Really gay," Justin agrees, but Alex can hear the smile in his voice. For
once, it doesn't sound like it's intended to hurt. There's a softness to
Justin's words that makes Alex's face heat up, and he -oh, fucking hell- maybe
he lied to both of them- Justin and himself. Maybe this actually is a love
song. Maybe.
He puts away the guitar and lays down. As Alex gets comfortable, his foot
brushes up against Justin's, and he hides his smile in the sheets. Justin pulls
him closer, so he conceals his happiness there.
"Night, asshole," Alex whispers as he rests his face against Justin's chest.
"Night...baby."
"Don't call me that," he whines because he knows that'll guarantee Justin will
continue. 
Alex dreams that he's falling into the deep ocean, but he holds onto the wood
of his guitar to stay afloat. The waves beat him on all sides, but he won't let
go, won't ever let go. Then he washes up on shore, and there's Hannah, Jessica,
and Justin, smiling at him. The four of them hug, and he's never felt so happy
in his life.
When he wakes up, the bed's empty, and Alex runs a hand over his sweaty
forehead. The dream's left him warm and wet, and all he wants to do is fall
asleep again, but Alex stretches over to check his phone instead.
He's greeted by a glowing text-I have ur song stuck in my head, bby -J
Alex stares at the small 'bby' and hides his big smile in the pillow. Can he
just stay in this glowing moment forever?
"Time for school!" 
Nope. 
Chapter End Notes
     I have to add 'breath play' now alsdjfaklsjdflasjd. Every chapter
     these freaks cause me to add more tags. Love it.
***** Disobedient *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Alex takes a sip of his punch. Ugh! How is it not spiked yet? Great, now Alex
has to watch Justin and Jessica grind on each other whilst painful sober.
Hannah elbows him: "You look like the angsty teenage girl that just got stood
up at prom."
"Yeah? How about you? Where's Clay?" he snarks simply because he doesn't want
to confront his own disappointment. Like, of course Justin isn't going to pull
Alex down from the bleachers and dance with him in front of his friends. Of
course he's going to take the (always) gorgeous Jessica over the (always)
moping Alex. It's not even a question. Alex would have done the same thing if
Jessica didn't hate his guts. Or not, who knows?
"Hey, maybe it's for the best," Hannah comforts him and squeezes his arm.
Alex sighs and shrugs, shoulders slumping.
He catches Justin's eye from the blur of the crowd; then he childishly looks
away. Alex hates that his face heats up and his toes tingle from the quick
look. God, there's pathetic and then there's...this.
"Sorry for being a dick, Hannah," he sighs. "You deserve better than my moody
ass."
"You're a good friend, Alex. Even when you've got your head stuck in your moody
ass. And listen- Justin hasn't come to school smelling like weed for a month
now. So you should give yourself a little more credit."
"You think so?"
"I know so. You're a good friend to Justin. Well, better than Bryce ever was."
"Like that's hard? Biggest creep of the year goes to him," Alex sarcastically
says and sloshes his drink in a mock salute. Hannah steals the remains of the
cup and downs it quick.
"Yeah, fuck, I can't believe he's so popular, knowing what a dark side he has
to him."
"Just shows you money can still buy friends."
"I mean't it though, Alex. Your friendship with Justin clearly means a lot to
both of you."
"But maybe I want more than that. More than friendship. More than a midnight
rendezvous. Does that make me selfish?"
"No that just makes you human, genius."
Alex sighs again and scrolls aimlessly through twitter. He clicks Justin's
profile because there's nothing like cyber-stalking a boy when you're in the
same room as him. Justin's profile description is 'Basketball and Court Side
Bunnies. 420. Never forget Harambe.' It's full of boring game stats. Alex
clicks Justin's likes and rolls his eyes. All of Jessica's tweets? Really?
There's cute, and then there's overcompensating.
He glances up to glimpse Justin's face buried into the crook of Jessica's neck.
@AlexStandall:
Suit: suited
Tie: tied
Heart: broken
I am forcibly removed from the dance
Hannah snort laughs and then shakes her head as she re-tweets it. When she
looks up to gaze longingly at Clay still on the opposite side of the room, Alex
stops himself from teasing her. Instead, he grabs her wrist and jerks his head
toward the dance floor. Then he screams over the music- 'wanna show these
bitches how to party?'
An up tempo Rihanna song comes on, and they're getting down with their bad
selves. Alex looks like an idiot, but he doesn't care. Hannah's covering her
face as he dabs. What? He's a musician not a dancer.
Clay makes his way from the other side of the gym-
"Aw, don't look now, but it seems your man has finally grown some balls now
that he has a little competition."
"Oh, god. How do I look? No lipstick on my teeth?"
"You look perfect. Go!"
He tries to be happy for Hannah -like a good friend- but his eyes have once
more drifted to the back of Justin's black suit as he goes to stand by the
wall. Jessica's hand rests on the small of Justin's back, where Alex wants to
be. In his mind, he's free to ask for a dance. Just one. In reality, he's stuck
at the back of the party, watching everyone else. Hannah's whispering in Clay's
ear. How cute. Tony's DJ-ing. Bryce has gone over to (finally) spike the punch.
Alex is about to call his dad when his phone lights up with a text. His heart
does its usual jerky-twisty-achy thing at the sight of Justin's name. He should
get a doctor or therapist to check that out.
Where r u? -J
Leaving. -A
Try not to get TOO excited. -A
Leaving? I prefer when ur cumming ;) -J
Smooth. Like sandpaper. -A
been thinking about cumming on your pretty face all night -J
Alex flushes and bites his bottom lip. When Justin sends him a nasty text like
that, it should not make his cock helplessly twitch. Alex types out 'fuck you'
and deletes it because that can be misinterpreted. He types out 'yes please'
and deletes it because it can only be interpreted in one way. Finally, he
types: Yeah? Even when dancing with Jessica? Idk if that's more romantic,
disturbing or arousing.
Not my fault. Ur fucking with my head, Standall -J
Whatever. Have fun grinding on Jess -A
Ugh, she's getting drunk by the punch bowl. Gonna drive her back home -J
Don't die getting road head -A
Then should I sneak up into ur room? Show u how much I missed u? -J
Niiiiice. Ignore me the whole party until u want to get ur dick wet? -A
But ur the one I wanna end the night with -J
You REALLY kno how to make a girl feel special, Foley -A
So is that a hard no....? -J
no -A
no as in don't cum or do? -J
????? -J
Alex rolls his eyes and closes out the texts.No as in you give me a fucking
headache. He goes to call his dad but then his phone lights up with a call from
Justin. Wow, that's unprecedented. Justin hates phone calls.
"Seriously, Standall. Where are you? I'll give you a ride."
"I'm right at the corner of Fuck Yourself Avenue."
"Yeah? I'll be happy to get you off from there," Justin's voice gets lower.
"I'll get you off anywhere."
Alex is torn between 'fuck, no' and 'yes, please.'
"You need to stop fucking with my head. Is that your kink? Confusing me?"
"Nah, I'm more into choking," Justin snickers into the speaker and then adds.
"You can stop your whole jealousy act, by the way. Hannah took Jessica from me.
So it'll just be us in the car."
Alex only says 'excuse me' as he pushes past a gaggle of girls in the hallway
and makes his way to the parking lot. He pauses by the door, one hand braced
against it and the other cradling the phone. He takes a deep breathe.
"You want me? And only me, Justin?"
A moment of silence.
"Yes."
"To fuck with me? Or be with me?"
"I'm outside in the parking lot. If you want a ride, come. If you don't...don't
then."
You never answered my question.
Alex hangs up the phone and leans against the door. To go or don't? So much
seems to rest upon this decision. He could still turn away and find Hannah for
a ride home, since she's giving one to a drunk Jessica. Or he could ask his
dad. Or...Justin.
He looks up to see a school poster. 'Trust your heart' it says in typical
cheesy-school-poster fashion. Alex presses his phone to his chest and then
pushes the door open. He takes a deep breathe of the cold air and moves towards
what he wants. Or, rather, who he wants.
"Hey, baby. Took you long enough!"
There Justin stands, alone, waiting for Alex. He's flashing that ridiculous
smile, and the 'baby' is like a knife. The overflowing sadness from before
hardens.
"Like I didn't wait the whole night for this?"
"For what?" Justin asks as he turns to open the passenger's sheet.
Alex grabs Justin's wrists and slams him back into the car. He loves the
immediate gasp of arousal Justin rewards him with as he pins him down. Alex
isn't stronger than Justin, but he has the element of surprise.
"Waiting to do this," Alex whispers as he presses a hungry kiss to Justin's
lips.
Justin goes rigid in his grip and then roughly pushes Alex back.
"Hey! Someone from school could see us. We're kind of in the middle of the
fucking parking lot-"
"Should of thought of that before you riled me up," Alex growls.
"I riled you up? I offered to drive you home!"
"Yeah, asshole. Cause you wanted me to suck your dick- no homo though, right?"
"Listen, I never promised you anything. You're the one out there writing me
love songs and shit. We're friends with benefits. That's it!"
"It wasn't a love song, asshole!" Alex protests, but he also makes another
attempt to pin Justin against the car.
Justin roughly pushes him back as Alex goes for another kiss.
"Why are you acting like a brat, Standall?" Justin snarls.
"Because I had to watch you dance the night away with my ex! Because maybe I
wanted to be the one you were dancing with. Because you won't even let me kiss
you right now. Because I love y-"
"Shut up!"
Shove.
Alex falls to the ground and kicks out Justin's feet from under him. They're
sweaty and angry as they roll around on the gravel like animals.
Justin manages to get on top of him, but Alex grabs hold of his tie and pulls
him down for another snarling kiss. Justin bites his lip, but Alex refuses to
let go. The feeling of Justin, hot and heavy against him, is going straight to
Alex's cock. Because. It's. Angry. Dirty. Bloody. Justin. Motherfucking. Foley.
"I love you," Alex screams again, desperate to be heard.
Snap!
Alex pants and clutches his throbbing nose. Wet blood drips down. Is it broken?
Is he broken?
Alex can taste the metallic blood that drips into his mouth, and he spits it up
at Justin. The glob of spit just drips back onto his own face. Ugh.
"I can't help how I feel," Alex finally pants as Justin pulls away. He wipes
the blood and sweat and tears from his face. The toxic mix is dripping onto the
white of his dress shirt.
Justin looks at him, eyes wide, and Alex is shocked to see how pale and
vulnerable he looks. There are tears spilling from Justin's red rimmed eyes
onto his flushed cheeks. His red lips are parted.
"Well, I- I hate you," Justin says, miserable.
Me or yourself?
"I'm sorry," Alex says even though that's not what he means. The blood's going
to be hard to explain to his mom. Luckily, his dad loves when he fights because
it proves he's a 'man,' but, right now, Alex feels like a little boy. A
confused, angry boy trying to love and be loved in return.
Justin just shakes his head as he pushes himself up to his feet and then offers
his hand. Alex curls his fingers in it and allows himself to be pulled up.
"I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be, Standall," Justin finally says,
squeezing his hand. Alex rests his face against Justin's shoulder. He doesn't
give a shit if he's bleeding all over him. Sometimes you need to bleed a little
to feel alive.
"I don't want you to be anything-"
"But clearly you do. And I'm sorry I can't dance with you or kiss you like I
can kiss her. I'm sorry that you think I'm any less broken than you. Like you
think I got any of my shit figured out? Nah. All I know is that I like how we
fit together. I like being with you in a way that I don't feel with Bryce. Or
Jessica."
"Y-you do?"
Justin squeezes him: "Yes, you fucking idiot. That's why I waited for you."
"But you don't like any of my tweets," Alex says because his brain is wrecked
from fighting and right now that's the only thing he can think of to say. It's
easier to say that than to say 'but I'm afraid you don't like me.' Justin rubs
his back and reassures him.
"Then I'll like them. If it's important to you. Cause...you're important to
me."
"Then why did you punch me?
"You were freaking me out with the whole 'L Word' talk," Justin confesses,
looks around, and then presses a soft kiss to Alex's throbbing nose, then to
his bleeding lip.
Alex takes Justin's hand and guides it over his hard cock: "The rule is you
have to kiss everywhere it hurts."
Justin squeezes him and whispers in his ear, "Mh, you know I like that."
"Quick, let's get inside before you have another gay panic attack," Alex says
and manhandles Justin by the lapels of his jacket. He pushes Justin into the
leather backseat and snaps the door behind them.
This time Alex is the one straddling Justin. He rocks his ass and smirks as
Justin, hardening, whimpers underneath him.
"How do we go from killing each other to kissing each other so quick?" Alex
wonders aloud as he arches his back and grinds down into Justin.
"Because that's the only two reactions I have to you, Standall. Fight or fuck."
"How about flight?"
"Can't run away. Not anymore."
Justin grabs his tie -a common theme from the night- and tugs him down. Alex
must taste like blood, but Justin only kisses him harder, like he loves it. His
cock strains against the tightness of his dress pants, and Alex wants to rock
against Justin until he comes inside his undies. Alex doesn't care if that's
pathetic. All he cares about is how sober and alive and aching he is. Every
touch is sweeter than any drink could ever be.
How is it that Justin's hands are so gentle now? The same fist that hurt him is
cradling his face. Those same lips that spit horrible words at him are so soft.
Mhhhm, fuck, I can't give this boy up.
Justin flips them over, and he's pressing soft kisses all over Alex's face,
like he's begging for forgiveness. Alex has never had makeup sex, but now he
can see why it's so addictive. The adrenaline from before has already made his
cock hard and painfully ready. When Justin's fingers reach down to fondle him
there, Alex pants against him.
Then Justin presses his face between Alex's legs, nuzzling his straining cock.
"F-fuck, Justin," Alex gasps as he gently pets his soft hair. Justin, actions
smooth from experience, pulls his fly down with only his flashing white teeth.
Like he's a fucking sex kitten.
Alex's phone buzzes, and he glances down.
"Bryce is calling me?"
"Answer it," Justin orders, smirking, as he presses a kiss to Alex's undies,
looking up at him with sparkling eyes. His hair is mused from their fight, and
he looks like sin in a blood-stained suit. Alex is helpless to do anything but
obey.
"Yo, Alex. You know where Justin is?" Bryce asks, and from the thump of music
leaking through the phone, it's clear he's still at the dance.
"No," he lies as Justin pulls his throbbing cock out from his undies. He tries
to keep his breathing steady.
"Didn't see him leave?"
He bites his lip as Justin's kisses his leaking tip, softly licks the bubble of
cum clean.
"No, just saw him come," Alex says, squirming, and Justin giggles softly
against him. The soft vibrations moving down the length of his cock are
incredible. There are no words to describe the sensations of Justin's mouth.
"Kay, dude. You'll tell me if you see him then?"
Alex smirks as he gently pets Justin's hair.
"Mhm, I'll keep an eye out for him."
Alex hangs up and laughs at his deceit. His triumphant laugh quickly turns into
a moan. The hot suction of Justin's lips are making him come undone. He's got
one hand wrapped in Justin's soft hair and the other now braced against the
leather seat.
"You got off on that, Justin?" Alex rasps because he knows Justin did. "Got off
on how I used your slutty mouth while Bryce looked for you? Got off on being
disobedient, f-for the first time?"
Justin pulls off him: "Not the first. And not the last."
Alex whimpers at the words, and the drip of Justin's wet tongue against his
leaking tip. His stomach tightens, and he can feel his orgasm bubbling up. It
makes his toes curl. It makes him yank at Justin's hair, urging him to move
faster.
"A-ah, J-justin," Alex gasps. "I'm gonna- I'm gonna- gonna cum inside you.
Inside your mouth."
Justin pulls back and gives him one last stroke. Alex spills all over his face
with a gut wrenching moan. He loves the way Justin looks covered in his cum.
Call him possessive. Territorial. Whatever. But Alex wants the whole world to
see Justin like this.
Justin licks the sticky liquid from his lips: "Mh, now get on your knees, Alex.
I'm not the only one who's putting out at the school dance."
"Such a romantic."
Later that night, after he's snuck home through his window, Alex tweets:
@Alexstandall: Sometimes you're sucking life's dick, and sometimes it's sucking
your dick. And sometimes... ;)
Justin likes the tweet and unfollows Jessica; it's the small victories.
Chapter End Notes
     So sorry for the late update! Next chapter will be the last most
     likely.
***** Experiemental *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Alex can't sleep. He can hear the distant rumble of thunder, and his own
stomach is rumbling. Ugh, he wasn't hungry an hour ago, but he is now. So he's
feeling hollow and sad, unable to soothe this hunger that eats at both his
stomach and his soul. He tries to swallow it down, but images of Justin with
his arm wrapped around Bryce repeat over and over in his head. Ugh, he wants to
puke, but there's nothing there to come up. 
He's empty. Empty. Empty. 
So he decides to do something to fill the time...fill up both the time and
himself.
Alex reaches under the bed and finds the crinkled grocery bag. He flushes as he
pulls out the lube that he stole from Hannah's parents store. To be fair, he
purchased twenty dollars worth of candy, so it's not a crime. Ok, it's not as
bad of a crime.
Guilt tightening in his chest, Alex pops open the bottle with a smooth 'click.'
He squeezes the liquid onto his fingers and flinches, surprised by how cool it
is. Is it supposed to be this cool? Who knows.  
He's done a little porn research, but he doesn't like porn that much because
it's impersonal and boring. No, he prefers the dark memories archived in his
mind. He's got a growing collection. Let's see...there's the first smoky
night of fumbling on Bryce's couch. His cock twitches in arousal. Oh, there's
his personal favorite, where Justin clamped his hand over Alex's mouth --god,
yes, he hasn't even touched himself, and he's already stiffening in his
pajamas-- where he had to stay still. And there's the one with Justin's tongue
licking his throbbing cock while Bryce, clueless, calls him on his phone.
Alex palms himself with his dry hand as he pulls his boxers down to his knees.
Then he slowly moves his wet, lube coated fingertips between his thighs. Alex
flushes as his shaking fingers brush over the crack of his ass. Steady now. 
Would it be easier or harder if he imagined that Justin was here with him? His
cock jumps up at the thought. Harder, for sure.
Alex squeezes his eyes shut and teases his wet finger around his entrance. He
rubs it in slow circles and then....and then he gently pushes inside. Alex
flushes. It's so invasive and new. He's not sure that he likes it, but he's not
sure that he doesn't like it. 
He experimentally rocks back against the finger, feeling it enter him. The
sudden fullness, stretching him open, isn't like anything he's felt before. But
it also isn't that amazing? He's barely even semi. Alex rocks his hips against
his bed in annoyance, trying to feel something other than discomfort. 
Come on, Alex internally groans and rolls his eyes. Isn't this supposed to feel
good?
And then when he's about to stop, his finger brushes up against- oh! 
Oh, okay. Okay, now he can understand why gay dudes do this; his cock eagerly
stirs as he starts to develop a gentle pace. The erotic movement of his finger
in and out of himself makes Alex squirm. His jaw clenches as he tries to fit
anther one. He breathes into the pleasurable pain of two fingers. I got this.
His cock throbs. His fingers slide out. Push in. Ah! His toes curl. Alex makes
an embarrassing, little noise, and he's glad that he's trying this without
Justin. Although Justin's fingers sinking inside of him would make this so much
hotter. 
In his fantasy, Justin's heavy body is pressing down into Alex, and his fingers
are filling him up. There's a hand squeezing Alex's mouth shut. He holds his
breathe in real life to get the feeling, and the oxygen deprivation makes
Alex's eyes flutter. His toes curl. Maybe he should try a third finger?
There's a familiar tap-tap-ing on Alex's window, and he squeaks, startled.
Shit. He slowly pulls his fingers out -cock still semi- and yanks up his pajama
bottoms. Alex shuffles over to the bathroom to wash up. 
Another tap.
"I'm coming!"
He cracks open the window to find Justin poised with a handful of pebbles. It's
been three nights since they fought and fucked in the parking lot. Three nights
since Alex confessed his love. Well...more like screamed it and got his nose
bloodied.
"Get up here, asshole," Alex hisses, but he's struggling to hold back a smile.
There's honestly no other asshole that he'd have sneaking into his window.
Alex can still feel the wetness between his thighs, and he flushes as Justin -
beautiful fucking Justin- slumps onto his floor. Alex kneels to flick
Justin's forehead and help him up, but he wrinkles his nose. 
"Ugh, you smell like weed-" 
"Shut up. I missed you," Justin says, and there's an edge to his usual snark.
He pulls Alex into a hug and rests his face in the crook of his neck. Alex hugs
him tighter and starts to walk backwards towards the bed, pulling Justin along
by his blue basketball jersey.
"Missed you too. Bet you can tell, huh?"
The bed squeaks as Justin's weight presses Alex down onto the mattress.
"You're hard," Justin notes but doesn't tease him about, which is....odd.
"Yeah, no thanks to you, douche-face."
Alex leans up to kiss him, and Justin easily kisses him back, like it's the
most natural thing. How far we've come, Alex thinks. And yet there's still so
impossibly far to go. Justin curls his fingers in Alex's blonde hair as he
kisses him, steady and slow. Then deeper and deeper, rocking his body down
against him. There's a hint of desperation, weed, breathe mints, and something
distinctly Justin. 
When Justin pulls back, they're silent again, save for their heavy breathing.
Alex's chest heaves up and down as he stares up into Justin's sparkling eyes.
He wonders if he'll ever be able to understand him, understand what he's
thinking. 
"Silent and moody is kinda my thing, Justin. What's up? Weed got your tongue?"
But Justin just answers with another lingering kiss. Alex pushes back into the
desperate touch, and he's not sure where this sudden surge of affection is
coming from. He's not complaining, but he's also concerned. The kiss
feels tainted. Like when his parents used to buy him toys before they announced
they were moving.
Alex squirms under Justin, struggling under these bitter-sweet kisses. He can
almost taste the apology coming when Justin moves back to sit above Alex's
crotch. He perches there like an apologetic puppy. His eyes are red-rimmed, and
Alex isn't sure if it's from crying or smoking. Probably both.  
"Sorry. Got your song stuck in my head," Justin sighs as he leans back down and
presses their foreheads together. "The one about rainstorms and, like, tossing
and turning. Shit's accurate."
"Catchy, huh? Think I gotta career in jingle making?"
"You got a future for sure," Justin says, and his voice is low. The sound makes
Alex's stomach twist, but it also makes him tilt his head as he processes the
unspoken unlike me. Justin's pinned him down on the bed, and he's looking down
at him with hungry eyes. Alex is in a constant state of confused arousal.
"You're being weird tonight....what's wrong?"
"Been thinking about you too much."
"To be honest, so have I....I've actually been kinda...kinda been fingering
myself thinking about you," he confesses. He flushes as there's a moment of
tense silence, and he hopes he didn't go too far. Why isn't Justin saying
anything?
"Hm, that right?" Justin tilts his head and leans in to whisper in his ear.
"Pretty slutty of you, Standall. Lying in here and touching yourself? Thinking
about me? Bet'chu did it wrong."
"Nu-uh," Alex protests, whine audible in his voice. 
"Yeah? Didn't think it felt uncomfortable?"
"....maybe."
Justin grins for the first time tonight: "That's what I thought. How about I
show you, and you tell me who's got a better technique?"
That Justin has experience in fingering himself hardly surprises Alex.
Honestly, for a boy who hates the word 'gay,' Justin knows more about gay sex
than Alex, a self professed bisexual. Still, Alex is scared if he broaches the
topic, Justin will whisper all the naughty things Bryce has done to him. He
doesn't want to hear the bastard's name, so, instead, he wriggles out of
Justin's grip, reaches over the side of the bed, and pulls up the bottle of
lube; then he presses it into Justin's larger hands.
"Good boy. Now get undressed."
Okay, Bryce, Alex thinks with the flicker of an eye roll. He slowly pulls down
his pajama pants, making a show of it. Sure, his cock's struggling against the
elastic of his undies, and the inside of his thighs is wet with lube, but he
doesn't want to seem too desperate.  
Justin lightly smacks his thigh: "Any slower?" 
"Dick," Alex mumbles as he wriggles out of his undies. Strangely, as he spreads
his legs, he finds that he trusts Justin to make this feel good. He trusts him
to treat him good. Justin takes a pillow and shoves it under Alex's ass. He
watches through half hooded eyes as Justin slicks up his fingers and runs it
down his naked thighs. Down to his ass.
"Hey, if we're gonna be faggots, we might as well get it right."
"Don't say fag- oh!" 
Alex gasps as Justin's cold digit presses itself against his already slick
entrance. Then the long finger slowly rocks inside of him. His toes curl as
Justin's finger expertly finds his prostate and massages him there. He lets out
another undignified squeak, and he's rewarded with a gentle spank and a
'shhhhh.' Then Justin's pressing a second finger inside of him, and it's a good
thing he already prepped himself before this because it easily slides inside. 
"H-how are you so good? Done this to a lot of your bros?" Alex taunts, but it
comes out as more of a whine. It's hard to be dignified when you have your (so
called) friend's fingers buried deep inside of you, rocking in and out. In and
out. 
"Enough that I'm not as tight as your virgin ass, baby."
"D-don't call me that."
"Think you like it." 
Alex moans as Justin starts to scissor his fingers inside of him. They're so
slick and nice, and Alex's cock is pressed up, dripping with desire. His hips
eagerly cant up at the pleasure. 
"Feel so good, baby. You like that don't you? Love when I take care of you,"
Justin continues to whisper in his ear, voice low and steady. Alex whimpers and
hides his face in Justin's neck as those fingers rock inside of him. He thinks
of saying 'shut up' or 'stop,' but instead it comes out like- 
"More."
"That's what I thought, baby."
Justin's fingers speed up in response, and Alex meets him with every thrust.
All Alex can hear is Justin's ragged breathing in his ear. All Alex can feel
is Justin's long fingers pressed up inside of him. He imagines that it's his
cock instead, and Alex whines as he realizes how close he is. 'Don't fucking
stop, dick,' Alex chokes out.
"Such a dirty, little mouth. Bet you'd love if it if I tied you up and gagged
you, huh?" 
"I'd hate it- cause I hate you," Alex gasps. Three -three!- fingers are buried
inside of him, filling him up, and Alex is coming undone. 
Justin's low, throbbing voice vibrates against his sensitive ear: "Oh, no, I
think you'd fucking love it. You loved it so much when I covered up your mouth,
didn't you? Loved how I shut you up. And I bet you'd look so pretty with thick
ropes around those delicate wrists and ankles. So pretty with your pink ass
cheeks spread, and me fucking you open. Fucking you like your virgin little ass
has never been fucked before. Make you cry and cum so so quick, baby, you won't
even be able to say my name."
Oh, fuck yes. Alex's whole body clenches up, but those fingers don't stop
thrusting.
"F-fuck- Justin-"
"Shhh, that's it, baby boy" Justin soothes and leans in to suck a hickey
against his neck. It's the feeling of Justin's wet mouth biting his soft skin
that pushes him over the edge.
Alex squeezes his thighs together, back arching. Without even a hand on him, he
splatters all over Justin's shirt. He's never come so hard and fast in his
fucking life. His knees are shaking as Justin 'pop's off his neck, pulls out
his fingers, and lightly smacks Alex's thigh for cumming all over his school
jersey. Alex can't even catch his breathe to say anything sassy.
Justin soothingly rubs Alex's thigh: "Told you so, dude."
"Don't....don't fucking 'dude' me after you fingered me to the best
fucking orgasm of my life."
"But I thought you hated 'baby?'"
"Yeah," Alex groans as he tries to snuggle closer to Justin's warmth. "But
'dude' is worse. Way worse. At least 'baby' gets me off."
"Oh, please. If I had my fingers inside you, I could make you come and call you
my 'bro-dude-pal' at the same time. Now how about you return the favor with
that loud mouth of yours?"
He can feel the bulge in Justin's denim pants pressed up against his naked leg.
"Just..." Alex yawns. "Just rub off on my ass?"
Justin curses and gives him a harder slap. If that's supposed to be a
punishment, it only makes Alex's spent cock throb. Justin roughly turns him
over, fingers sinking hard enough into his pale hip to leave bruises. Oh, yeah,
Alex could get into rough-angry-Justin. There's something darker about him
tonight, even more so than the time that Justin held him down. Now, there's a
hint of desperation. It's almost....almost like Justin thinks this might be
there last time, but that's ridiculous, isn't it?
"You're acting weird."
"I'm not. Shut up," Justin snaps as he undoes his belt and grabs the lube from
over his shoulder. Alex's eyes flutter at the feeling of Justin's thick bulge
rubbing against the curve of his ass. Oh yeah, that's the good shit. Now if
only everything about their relationship felt as right as this did.
Then Justin's breathing heavily in his ear as he 'clicks' open the bottle. Alex
lets himself lean into the primal pleasure as Justin lubes himself up and
starts to rub himself off against the curve of Alex's ass. He's cum too hard to
get hard again, but Justin's length rubbing between his ass is tempting him. 
"God dammit," Justin moans in his ear. "Alex goddamned Standall." 
He just happily hums, leaning back into Justin's cock. He loves the way it
slides down his wet skin, imagines how good it'd feel buried inside of him.
Alex listens to the real, guttaral sounds of Justin's desire. There was no
faking that. 
"Alex," he gasps, this time softer. His voice is low and...loving? Or
something. It's the way Justin used to say 'Bryce.' Only better (because it's
Alex's name that he's gasping as he finishes all over him.) 
It's sticky and wet and real, and Alex, for one moment, feels himself leave his
body. He can see how Justin's curled up around him, can see the way he's
looking at him.  
It's a moment of bliss that has him confess- 
"I love you...I mean that I love this. Us. Being like this, you know?" Alex
finds himself rambling as he twists around to press his naked body against
Justin's. It's not lost on him how exposed and vulnerable he is while Justin
is fully clothed. He rests his head to Justin's chest and listens to the
acceleration of his heart. Does it beat for me? 
Silence.
Justin redoes his belt and sits up: "I know, and that's the problem, isn't it?
I should go, Standall. Seriously. I've done enough. Its enough, isn't it?"
No, that's the problem...it's not enough, Alex thinks. Instead, he keeps his
cool and leans up to curl his hands around Justin's wrist, trying to pull him
back down. How is that Justin's here and warm and yet so impossibly cold and
distant? The paradox of Justin Foley. 
"What are you talking about?" Alex asks with a small smile. "You know I love it
when you fuck me up- okay, no trying to break my nose was a little too far- but
I can handle most of it. I'm a big boy, ok? If it's ever too much fucker-y,
I'll tell you."
"No, I don't think you understand," Justin sighs and hides his red rimmed eyes
in the palm of his hand. 
Alex curls up by his side and nudges him: "Then make me, asshole. What are you
thinking?"
"I think...I think I hate labels, and you want some sort of label. 'Boyfriend.'
'Relationship.' 'Love.' You want that. I can fucking see it in the way you look
at me, and I'm...I'm not what you're looking for. Can't be. So I think we
should stop fucking around, alright?"
Alex can feel tears stinging his eyes, and his nose is throbbing in pain as he
feels a phantom fist cracking into it over and over again. He hides his face
into the blankets. Fuck, why is he so weak? 
"I'm not in love with you," he cries, but they both know it's a lie. "So you
don't have to go, ok? Don't."
"Alex-"
"No! You said that....said you hated me, so if you hate me you'll stay, ok? If
you really fucking hate me, you'll stay here, ok? Because it hurts me most
when we're together, but you say we can't be. If you really hate me, you'll
stay with me, right here and right now. Fucking stay with me and tell me how
much you hate me," he hears himself rambling some nonsense, fingers desperately
squeezing into Justin's sides. Justin smells like the old Justin -disgusting
weed- but he can see the more vulnerable side of Justin shining through, and
that's what hurts the most.
"I hate you," Justin repeats, but his voice is too low, dangerously low, as he
gets up. "But not enough to stay and hurt you anymore." 
"D-don't. Please. Don't go."
"You should thank me for leaving you before I broke more than just your nose."
Alex's whole body is shaking. Justin really did fuck him up this time, and
he's...he's in love. There's no hiding it. Not from himself. Not from Justin. 
“Fine! Just go then. Leave, you asshole,” Alex whispers to himself as
he sits back up in the empty room and wipes his cheeks.
He remembers Tony's advice: Don't hurt yourself Alex more than you already are,
ok? Because boys like Justin do nothing but break your heart.
Alex cries the refrain:
Knew a boy like a rainstorm-
made me toss and turn in bed
wondering if he'd transform
into clear blue skies instead.
And then he adds-
But it got real fucking old
waiting here in the damned cold
In the morning, he wipes away his tears and updates his twitter profile to- 'Bi
and Don't Wanna Cry.' He gets a bunch of texts from people congratulating him
on coming out, and, ok, he hasn't told his parents yet, but it's a step in the
right direction. If nothing else, Alex has learned how dangerous it is to hide
who he really he is. He has the pain in his ass and nose to attest to how toxic
that is. 
Alex doesn't want to spend his whole life hiding. 
Chapter End Notes
     This was supposed to end at twelve, but I wanted more sexy time
     scenes so....enjoy?
***** Anti-Climatic Finish *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
At lunch time, everything's back in it's proper order in the fragile kingdom
that is high school. Justin, the ever obedient subject, is seated right by his
King, any hint of last night’s dramatics are gone. Alex looks around to see
where Jessica is, surprised she's not curled up under Justin's arm.  
Then Alex turns to his own table, and his eyes widen. Oh shit. 
"Hey," he says, nervous, as he sits right across from Jessica. He struggles to
open his milk carton, unsure of what to do with his hands. Hannah, shifting
besides Clay, is biting her lip and blinking like she can’t believe it.
"Congrats. Saw your twitter bio. Well, Hannah tweeted about you coming out.
Pretty brave" Jessica says, voice soft and sweet. The sudden change in tone is
like...woah. Wasn't this the same girl telling him to eat shit and die just a
couple weeks ago? What's going on? Sure, Justin and Bryce are back to normal,
but how did Jessica escape their control?
"Yeah, I mean it’s not really thatbig of a deal to come out as bi as 2017.
Doubt Ellen’s gonna call me on her show and give me a million dollars or
whatever. But thanks. Uh, not to be rude-"
Hannah snorts, "That's what you always say before you say something rude,
Alex.”
"But why are you here and not with...him?"
"Justin told me the truth," Jessica says and meets his eyes.
Alex chokes on air: "W-what? The truth about what exactly?"
Because there's a lot of truths floating around. There's the truth about how
they made love last night, how Justin’s fingers spread him open. The memory
makes him flush in a mixture of arousal and sadness. Then there's the truth
about how deep Bryce's claws have sunk into Justin. There's truth and lies, and
they've all been woven together into whatever keeps this high school from
falling apart.
"That Justin doesn't like me like that, which fucking sucks, especially after
the dance. And he's..." Jessica conspiratorially lowers her voice. Gay?
"Falling in love with someone else."
Alex’s heart skips a beat. Uh, what? Since when?
"Who?"
"Wouldn't say, but I could tell that he was in, like, deep, you know?" Jessica
sighs and gives Alex a searching look. "That's not all. Justin also told me
some some other fucked up stuff that I'm not gonna repeat. Can't really.
Promised I wouldn’t say anything because it’s...well...”
"Bryce?" He and Hannah say at the same time.
Jessica raises her eyebrows.
"Okay, am I the only one not on the same wave length?" Clay pipes up. "Feeling
very lost here."
But Jessica just shakes her head and makes a zippering motion over her lips.
Alex and Hannah exchange a look. How much has Justin told Jessica? Well, it's
enough that she's talking to Alex like he's a human being instead of her idiot
ex. Also, she hasn't so much as looked over her shoulder at where Justin's
sitting with his friend slash abuser, Bryce.
“This feels more like...” Hannah pauses pointedly. “A private hot coco
conversation, right?”
“Hell yeah,” Jessica agrees, and she smiles up at Hannah. “Monet’s?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Alex grins: “Guess the gang’s back together, huh?”
There’s nothing like a dark secret to bond three people together, and it’s like
this shit happened for the three of them to be reunite. Alex is sure of it.
Tony comes over with his tray and pops down next to Clay. Hannah and Jessica
turn their attention to banter with him, but Alex is lost in his thoughts.
The one thing he can’t shake is that Justin told Jessica he was falling in love
with someone. Like? That doesn't seem like something Justin would lie about,
but how’d he manage to see some chick with all the time he spent up Bryce and
(literally) Alex’s ass? That’s impressive. Alex has to stop himself from
texting Justin, and he feels this ache in his chest as he remembers how
abruptly that Justin left him last night. That’s one way to break it off.
Still, there’s this nagging voice in the back of his mind -this horrible,
hopeful voice- that wonders just how genuine it all was.
Maybe...maybe Justin split it off with him because he realized that he was
falling for Alex?
It’s a ridiculous thought that he shouldn’t even entertain, not when he has his
two best friends back! Still, Alex can’t cut it off completely with Justin.
There still feels like...like there’s something there. He just isn’t sure what.
Or why. Justin took a shot at him hard last night, and it was fucking meant to
break his heart. But -in the light of day- Alex realizes how callous the move
was. Alex, maybe  because he’s naive, just doesn't feel like it was a hundred
percent Justin’s idea.
Alex looks at Bryce- ugh, fucker looks too smug. The basketball star meets his
eyes and gives him a wink. Oh, shit. He didn’t imagine that. Alex whips around,
fast, and Hannah and Jessica are both looking at him.
“What was that about?” Jessica asks, and it looks like she’s trying to piece
everything together. Justin’s rejection. Bryce’s pattern of abusive behavior.
Alex coming out as bi. Bryce’s wink at Alex, and the placement of his hands
around Justin’s shoulders. All loose bits of floating information. Until Alex
leans in and whispers the truth.
“I...” he clears his throat. “So I’ve been seeing Justin. Friends with benefits
kinda deal?”
Jessica covers her mouth and flushes a deep red. Hannah pats a choking Clay on
the back.
Tony snorts, “I’m sorry you had to endure all that crazy. Dick better have been
good.”
“Uh, no comment,” Alex mumbles and flushes. “But he broke it off pretty harsh
last night. He doesn't want boyfriends and love and blah blah.”
“Oh my god! It's you, isn't it?"
Alex tries to shush her because her voice has gone up way too high.
“No, Alex, really,” Jessica continues, eyes sparkling. “He was totally fucking
talking about you! He’s in- in deep with you. It all makes sense now. He’s been
holding me at an arm's distance even when I offered to, uh, well, anyways- this
is just like a soap opera. My ex-boyfriend and almost boyfriend are secretly
together.”
“It’s over though,” Alex sighs.
Tony leans over to steal one of his fries: "For the best, right?"
“I don't know. I mean Justin was...he was kind of a dick half the time, but the
other half he was...he really did have a good side to him. Buried under all
that weed and aggressive heterosexuality. I just wish that I could have helped
him more, but a kiss won’t heal years and years of abuse. It’s not a Sleeping
Beauty kind of story, where I can awaken him from his self-hating slumber, but
I really wish I could have reached him. Made him see there was hope...”
Hannah and Jessica both reach out to offer him their open hands, and he accepts
their comfort with a small grin. Nothing like getting (literally) fucked by the
school stud to have girls all over you.
“Hey, I’m happy you guys are here though. I wouldn’t have been able to handle
all this drama alone.”
“It’s cool. Sorry for being a dick to you all the time. You didn't deserve
that,” Jessica says.
“Yeah, no I'm the one who should be apologizing to you. I was just trying to
get into your pants half the time, and you deserve better than a shitty
boyfriend like that.”
“So do you, Alex,” Hannah knowingly chimes in.
Jessica covers her mouth again as she realizes the implications: “So...how
was Justin in bed?" 
“Do tell,” Tony says with a crooked grin.
Only Clay has the good sense to shake his head.
“Oh, god, not a cafeteria conversation."
“One word,” Jessica begs.
“Uh....greedy? Or, maybe needy?"
“Oh, I bet,” Tony darkly chuckles. “He looks like the type that would fuck you
and then cry about his daddy issues.”
More like his Bryce issues, Alex thinks as the bell rings and saves him from
this conversation.
Still, it’s such a load off to finally tell his friends about all the shit
that’s been going on. It makes it feel real. Like, yeah, Alex is a bisexual
boy, who’s been having sex with another boy. It’s real and not something that
he should be made to feel ashamed about. He accepts a hug from Hannah before he
heads off to class.
Just as he's turning to go to his health class, Alex spots Bryce and Justin.
God, he just can't leave it alone. They duck into the boy's bathroom, Justin
trailing at Bryce's heels. They've put up the custodian's 'Out Of Order' sign
over the door. 
Alex spins the locker by the bathroom door, as though he's lost his
combination, and listens. 
"Why was Jessica sitting over there?" 
"Ask Jessica. The fuck would I know?"
"Because three days ago you had that girl wrapped around your finger and now
you've pussy-ed out? Do you not like her?"
"No."
"Then why is she back with that slut and faggot?" 
Alex grits his teeth. He's clearly the 'faggot.' Fine. But did he just call
Hannah a slut? Motherfucker. 
"I don't know..."
"Did you say something?"
"Look- why do you give a shit? She makes her own choices and friends- a-and I
really didn't do anything. Jessica just wasn't that into me." 
"Bullshit. How retarded do you think I am? She was all over you, so you
must have said something. About...what? What did you tell her? About me?" 
"Nothing-"
Slap!
Alex's heart skips a beat at the sounds of sobbing. Shit.
"I know for a fact you told her something."
"Why would I do that?" Justin's voice is getting more and more hysterical. Alex
can feel the blood rising to his face when he hears-
"Because you do shit to fuck with me all the time? Like fucking Standall? Tell
me that wasn't just a cheap trick to make me jealous. Like you really had
feelings for that fucking idiot that weren't tied to me. At least you were
smart enough to do what I suggested and cut it off, but did you really have to
go and do the same with Jessica? Were you trying to make a fucking point?"
His heart is pounding in his ears, and he can't take this. He can't. No, he's
done sitting around on the sidelines. He's done pretending that this is none of
his business. Alex doesn't want to be afraid. If Bryce beats the shit out of
him, at least the fucker will get suspended, right? That's what Alex tells
himself when he slams the door open. 
Bryce whirls around. From this angle, it looks like he was either about to
choke Justin or kiss him. Alex's fists ball up and he demands- 
"Get your hands off him." 
"Wrong bathroom," Bryce snarls. "If you're looking for the little girl's room,
it's down the hall-"
"Get the fuck" -Alex grabs Bryce's arm and pulls him- "off him." 
Justin meets his eyes, and Alex can see the same fear from last night but also
the longing.
Bryce laughs and raises up his arms in a mock surrender: "Oh, okay. Trying to
be Prince fucking Charming, Standall? I thought you'd already tried that
before, and -guess what?- Justin choose to come back to me. He choose me and
left you, and he'd do it again. Isn't that right?" 
They turn to look at Justin, who's staring at the floor tiles. 
"You should go," Justin mutters, but when Justin looks up at Alex, his eyes
scream 'don't go.' This is that smokey night again, full of mixed signals, but
this time Alex is listening to the voice inside of him. It's the voice that
whispers the words to his songs and now it whispers for him to stand his
ground. 
"Not without the truth."
"The fuck? This a shitty soap opera? Fuck outta here with the truth-"
"I think you'll want to hear it too. When I talked to Jessica at lunch,
she said you're in love with someone...is that true?" 
Bryce crosses his arms, and his jaw tightens, struck dumb at the revelation. 
"No," Justin says and clears his throat. "I told her I was falling in love. Not
that I am."
"OK. So if wasn't Jessica...was it some other girl?"
Justin holds his steady eye contact: "No." 
"Was it...a boy?"
"....yes." 
"And is he here?" 
Justin's eyes flicker between them, and he nods. 
Bryce takes a step back, and Alex is sure that the self-conceited asshole must
think that it's him. And maybe it is. But something in Justin's gaze
tells Alex to take a step forward. He does. Then another. 
"What is this a game of fucking fifty gay ass questions? What the fuck is the
point of this, Standall?" 
Is it me? Alex wants to ask, but, instead, he puts it- 
"You wanna cut and go somewhere? Or-" Alex looks over at Bryce's fuming figure.
"Stay here?"
"I hate this bathroom," Justin says without a second of hesitation and takes
Alex's hand in his. Their fingers easily curl together like they were mean't to
fit all this time. Alex can't help the smile that stretches his face as they
turn to go. Alex bump his shoulder against Bryce's.
"Don't. Don't you fucking go. If you leave, it's over," Bryce threatens at
their turned backs. "You can't come crawling back to me on your hands and
knees, begging for me to take you in. It's over."
Justin stiffens for a moment, as if the weight of his choice is about to hit
him. Alex squeezes his fingers, trying to tell him that it's ok to walk away.
It's ok to leave somebody that hurts you. 
"Then it's over," Justin says, voice soft and steady. It's barely a whisper and
then he's pulling Alex away, and they're sprinting down the hall, down through
the door, and out into the bright, blue day. There's not a stormy cloud in
sight.
"Quick, Justin, before the security guards catch us!"
"Like to see 'em try." 
Justin's laughing hysterically as they bolt down into the parking lot. His car
is parked right where it was the night of the dance. Justin's fingers break
away from Alex's as he pushes him against the door of his car and- fuck!
Alex's eyes widen as Justin kisses him right there and then, in the middle of
the day. Sure there's nobody here, but they're still in public. Still in front
of all those watching windows. 
"Shit- you just- and then-" Alex breaks off and laughs, covering his mouth. 
Justin runs a hand through his hair, eyes also wide like he can't believe what
he just did. 
"Let's get outta hear before they call the police."
"It'll just be my dad, and he loves you enough to let you go with a slap on the
hand," Alex promises as he slumps onto Justin's leather seats. His fingers and
lips are tingling. He can't get that stupid fucking grin off his face. Alex is
happy, and it scares him because he knows how Justin can be. 
"Where should we go? Diner? Subways? The moon and back?"
"While the moon is tempting....have you ever been to Monet's?" 
"No...it good?"
"You'll just have to try it and tell me." 
It's when they pull up there that Alex's face starts to heat up, and he can't
help but just stare at Justin out of the corner of his eye, marveling that this
is happening. 
"Are we on a date?" Alex dares to ask, trying to keep his tone light. "Because
I think I'd like this to be a date."
Justin turns off the ignition and turns to take his hand again. Justin's hands
are bigger in his, and he likes the way his own hands look so pretty and
delicate, like they belong together. The two of them just sit there for a quite
moment, fingers tightly tangled up. A love song distantly tinkles on the car
radio, but all Alex can hear are the words to a new song he's writing in his
head. This one's about twinkling eyes, brighter than the sun, and cutting
class. It's about the road, stretching ahead without any limits. It's about
Justin leaning in to press a soft kiss to his flushed cheek and then
whispering- 
"Yeah, fuck yeah. All this is gay as hell anyways, so why not call it a date?"
"Not gay unless I get to fuck you afterwards." 
"Please," Justin says as he lets go of his hand and undoes his seat belt; Alex
can't tell if he's joking. 
They find a booth in the corner, where they're harassed by one of the servers
for being 'hooligan-delinquent-schoolboys.' Justin laughs when Alex orders hot
chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles ("Make this any more gay. I
dare you."). Alex teases him back when Justin orders a black coffee ("Trying to
'no homo' this date with a straight boy drink?"). Justin kicks him under the
table. Alex kicks him back. Soon they're playing a violent game of footsie. 
I think I'm on a date with Justin??? -A
...uh, WHAT? -H 
SCHOOL ISNT EVEN OUT YET THE ACTUAL FUCK? -H
I confronted him in the bathroom in front of B -A
Annnnnnddd he pretty much implied that he loved me -A
So now we're sipping drinks at Monet's and staring lovingly into each
other eyes -A 
How are you so impossible and yet so suave at the same time? -H
I can't -H
you two drama queens deserve each other -H
Should we wait 40 mins to meet up with you and J? -A
Might be kinda awkward, no? -H
I'll ask -A
"Hey, you wanna meet my friends?"
"You mean Hannah and Jessica?" Justin laughs. "The two girls I've kissed and
dissed?" 
"It's a friends group! We all date each other, right? Part of figuring
yourself out in high school. Besides, Hannah and Jessica both understand and-" 
"Think I'm gay?" 
Oh, Jesus. 
"Well, they know we're...uh, kinda together." 
"Please don't tell me your whole lunch table knows what we've done under the
covers," Justin groans as he buries his face into his hands. "Ugh, I don't know
how I'm going to keep up my rep as the school bad ass...although I'm sure Bryce
will drag my name through the mud now. But yeah, sure, invite them all here.
Let's have it all in the fucking open then."
So that's how Alex's dream comes true. The one where it's the four of them, all
together. He's dreamed but never dared believe it'd be a reality. Jessica is
quiet, flushing as she looks between the two of them, but Hannah manages to
dissipate the tension with a joke-  
"So who's the best kisser out of the three of us?"
"Yeah," Alex says with a grin. "Think you may be the only person in the whole
school qualified to make that assessment. Seeing as we've all had sloppy make
out sessions."
"Shit. I plead the fifth on that one." 
They laugh and then squeeze in real close for a selfie that Jessica has decided
that they have to take for Instagram. Justin slowly nods and puts his hand over
Alex's shoulder. Jessica rests her head on Hannah's shoulder and sticks out her
tongue. Justin gives the camera his dazzlingly white smile while Alex gives it
his middle finger. Snap. Then he shivers as  Justin's hands slips down to rest
on his waist.
"Should we caption it 'fuck you, Bryce?'" Jessica asks, voice neutral and yet
each word loaded with meaning. A meaning that each of them table understands.
How they've all managed to come together after all this time is a small miracle
in itself. Alex squeezes Justin's thigh under the table, trying to tell him
once more that it's ok. That they're here.
They all wait.
Justin squirms and shrugs: "Picture's worth a thousand words, you know? Doesn't
need a caption." 
Alex smiles as he catches Justin's eye. That's his man.
----------
Alex knows his dad and brother are happy to see Justin back for dinner because
they break out the steak. Alex only smiles and struggles not to roll his eyes
as they demand to know Justin's work out routine ("What's your secret, son?
Protein powder?"). His mother even sets the table with the good utensils. He's
glad his family loves Justin as much as he does, at least. But when they offer
Justin the spare bedroom though, Alex wants to kill them. 
"Uh, no, we're gonna stay up late doing Chemistry," Justin quickly saves them
and then lets his large hand rest on the top of Alex's thigh. He struggles not
to choke on his food or turn bright red when Justin possessively squeezes. 
"Yeah, they're, uh, really hard," Alex stammers. Justin's fingers slowly trail
up between his inner thigh. The scrape of Justin's finger nails against the
bulge of his clothed cock makes it twitch in interest. He squirms in his seat
and is forced to push Justin's hand away to keep from cumming in his undies
like some pubescent boy. He takes his phone out of his pocket and quickly
shoots off a text.
Stop that! -A
Justin snickers. 
Can't help it...ur so fun to tease -J
If ur gonna tease, better put out -A
Aw, hoping to have my fingers inside u again, bby? -J
Or...wanna put em in me? -J
Bet u'd love to fuck me in ur childhood bed with ur parents right down the
hall, huh? -J
The words go straight to Alex's already hardening cock, and he restlessly turns
off his phone, fingers tingling at the thought. He'd never expected that Justin
would let him do that to him. He's known Justin was versatile in bed, but he'd
always thought that he'd be against having a boy fucking him. Getting fucked by
another dude is about gay as one can get (other than getting gay married), but
it seems Alex has misjudged Justin again. 
They're washing dishes now, side by side, and Alex's body is still tingling.
Every brush of Justin's arm against his as he passes the dish sends an electric
jolt down his spine. His naked toes curl on the tiles. It's just so fucking
domestic, and, for a horrible moment, Alex thinks he wouldn't mind washing
dishes with Justin for forever (however long that is). Justin smiles over at
him, like he can hear his thoughts, and softly nudges his hip.
"Been a day, huh?" 
"Shit. Yeah. Hell of a day..."
"Think it should have a happy ending, don't you?" Justin's lips are right up
against his ear, and the deep vibrating tenor makes his stomach twist. Alex is
in so deep. Whatever Justin has in mind for tonight- Alex is down. There's
nothing he'd say no to at this point, and maybe that should scare him more than
it does. 
"How about a bad ending," Alex teases back as he stretches over to grab the
sponge and purposefully brushes his ass against Justin's cock. He shivers when
he hears Justin's little gasp in his ear. He lives for all the small needy
sounds that Justin rewards him with. Teasing is fun when you know the other
person isn't going to run away or try to 'no homo' it all away. It's fun
because it's real. Well, okay, Alex hasn't told his family yet, but that's
another drama for another day. 
Right now all he wants to worry about is wither he's gonna fuck Justin or if
Justin's going to fuck him. 
They're brushing their teeth and exchanging glances in the mirror as Justin's
older brother wishes them a goodnight. Alex pushes the bathroom door closed and
locks it. Justin hops up onto the counter top, the muscles on his chest
flexing, as he grabs the collar of Alex's shirt and drags him closer. Alex has
to lean up on his tippy toes and Justin has to lean down because of the height
difference, but then they're making out. They both taste like Alex's
toothpaste, and it's stupid because Alex should definitely be the one on the
counter, but he likes the feeling of holding Justin against him. Loves how he's
the one in control for once. They pull back with a soft smack, and their
breathing's hard as they exchange a heated glance. Alex doesn't have to guess
what Justin wants (for once) because the basketball star leans in and whispers-
"Want you to fuck me, Standall." 
Alex roughly swallows and tugs at the strings of Justin's boxers as he pulls
back an inch: "Anyone ever...? Been inside?"
"Nope."
"Fuck. No pressure then, huh?"
"Relax, baby. I'll hold your hand through the whole thing," Justin snorts as he
jumps down from the counter and flips them so Alex's pressed against it. "We'll
go nice and easy for you. Go nice and slow...until we don't."
Then Justin's kissing him like he owns him, and Alex's stomach flutters at the
press of their lips and bodies together. Justin's leg slides between his open
thighs, and Alex is slowly rocking against him. Alex lets his hands rest on
Justin's shoulders, and, fuck, he's just wanted something as nice and normal as
this. All he's wanted was to kiss Justin and be kissed in turn, with no fear of
being pushed away. And now....finally. 
Alex is dizzy from arousal from this bathroom make out, and he can feel
Justin's growing desire against his hip. 
"If you keep this up, I'm gonna cum," he admits with a pathetic little squeak. 
"Aw, baby can't keep his dick hard?"
Alex flushes, but he thinks he rather likes the verbal humiliation. Somehow,
Justin always manages to push it enough to turn him on. He responds by turning
off the bathroom light and pulling Justin towards his bed. They stumble through
the dark, unable to keep their hands off each other. It's crazy how one night
can change everything. 
Justin roughly pushes him back against the bed, and then he's sitting on top of
him, lazily kissing him. The rub of Justin's ass against his cock makes Alex
clench his thighs. He reaches up to grope Justin's ass through the thin fabric
of his boxers, squeezing his cheeks. Justin makes a noise in the back of his
throat, so low and thick with need that Alex can't help how his hips
involuntarily thrust forward. 
“Yeah, like that,” Justin breathes out as Alex's fingers dip down under his
waistband to play with Justin's ass.
Alex's lips are wet with saliva, puffy from kissing, as he leans up to suck on
Justin's nipples. They're such cute little nubs, and he's never gotten the
chance to get his mouth on them. They, just like all of Justin, deserve to be
worshiped. Alex hums as he licks around Justin's pink nipples and slowly grinds
up into his ass. He's behaving like a hyper puppy, and, by the sound of
Justin's chuckle, he thinks so too.
"Okay, down boy. You're seriously not gonna last if you keep doing that,"
Justin says as he pushes him back onto the bed and reaches over for the lube
that Alex has (poorly) hidden under the bed. Justin easily pops off the cap and
sensually moves his boxers down. Oh god, Alex wishes that he had his own place,
so he could have all the lights on Justin. Instead, he's forced to watch the
blurry outline of Justin's dark fingers moving in and out. Alex squirms beneath
Justin because he knows just how fucking good those fingers feel. He can hear
Justin making soft, happy noises himself as he spreads himself open for Alex.
Fuck, he wants to try it. Wants to be buried inside Justin's tightness.
"Can I?" Alex hears himself beg.
"You really think you could find it?" Justin sounds more amused than annoyed.
"Well, you're going to let me put my cock in, aren't you?"
"Okay, give it a try."
Justin rolls off him, resting on the bed, and kicks his boxers off all the way.
Alex feels his face flush at the sudden power of squeezing lube over his
fingers and pressing them against Justin's already slick hole. He's been
fingering himself for a minute now, so Alex easily pushes one finger inside. He
feels the strangest rush that shoots down from his neck to the base of his
spine. He tries not to rub himself off against Justin as he presses another
finger inside. Judging by Justin's silence though, Alex isn't blowing his mind.
Fuck. He leans up and tries to do the finger curve thing that Justin did
and....no luck. Instead, Justin takes Alex's hand and carefully guides it. He
holds his breathe as he listens to the appreciative little noises that escape
Justin's lips. Oh, it's so intimate, pushing his fingers inside Justin, where
nobody but him has ever been. 
He buries his face into Justin's neck and closes his eyes, loving this foreign
feeling.
"Turn," Justin whispers in his ear, and he pulls his wet fingers out. 
God he's never been this fucking hard. Justin's back on top of him, completely
naked, and Alex is only too eager to tug down his own boxers. His pink cock
jumps up, and the sudden rush of cold air against his sensitive skin makes him
grit his teeth. Justin is looking down at him with that little smirk, like he
knows what the sight of his perfect body is doing to Alex. He moves down to
slide the curve of his ass against the length of Alex's cock. Oh, fuck, no. 
He can't blink away the tears from his eyes. All the nerves in his body are
aflame from the sinful drag of Justin's clenched cheeks against his cock. He
can feel the bead of precum bubbling up at the tip as Justin reaches down
to push a condom down around him. Not even a rubber can help him calm down. No,
Alex is practically vibrating from need. 
"Relax," Justin says lowly, as if he isn't the one who's about to push himself
around Alex's cock. How is he a fucking sex god? While Alex biting his lip,
struggling not to cum?
"S-stop teasing then." 
Justin pushes down, and, oh fuck, it feels godly. Alex forgets how to breathe.
His eyes roll back in his head. His toes clench, hard. Every part of his body
is hard and tense as Justin takes him inside of him. Alex has only been inside
one girl (and he was drunk) so he doesn't have much comparison, but Justin's so
impossibly tight. It feels like his whole dick is being pleasurably twisted. 
"Fuck Justin, you're so tight. Not gonna last. Oh god, no. Oh, fuck-"
"Shhhh, not so loud, baby." 
Justin clamps his hands around Alex's mouth, and his whole body tenses at that,
tightening. It's only been a second until he's clenching up and cumming with an
embarrassing whimper. 
 "Jesus, Standall," Justin groans. "Did you really just....cum? Really? Oh,
fuck, your topping privileges are over. I hadn't even counted to fucking ten,
and you'd cum. Guess we're just going to have to train you to last longer,
aren't we?"
The words make his spent cock twitch. To be fair, he had warned Justin that he
wasn't good at waiting. For anything. Alex mumbles a half-hearted apology.
Justin flips him over and gives him a sharp smack on his ass; he clenches in
response to the pleasurable abuse. Then Justin's grabbing the lube and smearing
it down the crack of his ass, barely brushing his fingers inside. Maybe
submitting just comes more easily to Alex than he expected because he's
enjoying this part more. Now, Alex can rest his face into the pillow and lean
back into Justin's touch. He's come barely seconds before, but the combination
of Justin's fingers and his rude mouth is getting him hard ("Bet you're gonna
cum again before I do, huh? So fucking selfish. Making me do all the work.").
Justin, despite his goading, is also too lazy to get Alex properly prepped.
They're both horny and tired, so Justin leans down to line up his cock against
Alex's and then -slowly- just down. The erotic slide of his cock and skin-to-
skin makes Alex think of something stupid. 
"I'm like a hot dog bun," Alex giggles. "A-and you're like a hotdog."
"Jesus christ you're so shitty at sexy talk. I'll actually going to fucking
choke you.."
Alex isn't sure wither to giggle or moan. He stifles the confused noise in his
pillow as Justin threads his fingers through Alex's hair and continues to rub
off against his lubed up ass. Without Alex's help, he cums across his backside
with a couple more grunts. Then they collapse against one another. 
“Hot dogs? Really? You’re so fuckin’ gay," Justin says and Alex can only laugh.
“You’re fucking gay too.”
And Justin only buries his face into Alex's neck, because, yeah, they're pretty
gay. And that's ok. 
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for reading y'all!
     (*idubbbz voice* hey that's pretty gay)
End Notes
     Justin/Alex is the fucking hottest, right? Leave a comment/kudo if
     you want more.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!