School was finally out and he can finally spend days just wandering around the house, looking for a comfortable positions to curl up and sleep-in. It’d been three days since he last got an 8-hour R&R. The last of his schoolwork had ended with no sleep and a sugar rush that lasted for more than 24 hours. He wasn’t even sure how he was still alive during the whole ordeal.
That’s behind him now. He was free from that institutionalized prison they called school. There are more important things in life, like sleep and the many, many hours he can get of it. Sleep was now his life. He woke up only to feed himself but that’s beside the point.
The sweet joy of laying down and curling up with his warm duvet as the cold air lulls him to sleep, he’s been missing out on a lot of things. The peace and quiet was something he hadn’t experienced since his parents tricked him into going to school. He wanted to be homeschooled but his therapist said he needed to “socialize”.
It would have been great if his parent didn’t use his 8-hour absence as a means to plan trips. Worse if they actually leave while he’s at school with just a note left for him. They were confident that he wouldn’t throw parties or do anything shitty because he was incapable of being alone for too long. His parents knew he’d be at the Ditta Household before the end of the day. They knew he had a co-dependence with Jace, his best friend.
That aside, he was in a familiar situation again. He was reading a note from his parents declaring their vacation and their inability to plan an end to it. It was just him in this empty house.
He was home ALONE in this empty house.
They left him for an indefinite amount of time and it was giving him a migraine. Having both parents out may seem like a bonus for any other halfwit that thinks being unsupervised is the best thing ever but not for him. He learned the hard way that not having any parental supervision when you have little to no impulse control results in injuries and trips to both the emergency room and the police station. He wasn’t about to relive the terror that was his 13th summer.
Maybe he had to look at the bright side of things. After all, when his parents go, the beautiful silence becomes the background music of his life. He doesn’t wake up to the loud sound of his parents trying to outdo frisky teenagers at three in the morning. He already knows what that looks like, oh god, does he know. Didn’t he suffer enough with the actual frisky teenagers at school? His parent did NOT need to wave the fact that he was a single virgin in his face.
No lie, he loves his parents and he is glad they’re still so in love with each other. But seriously, it gets old. Their sickly sweetness makes his 20 year unintentional celibacy look way more pitiful that it should. He would have told them off but seeing as that always ended with him on the couch listening to their “love has it’s time” speeches, he was good. Their speeches about destiny, fate and other hippie-dippy nonsense was something he had an aversion to.
They tell him he’d find a soulmate or what-the-hell-ever when the time comes, nothing but trash. They were high from the fumes coming out of their love drowned heads, he wasn’t going to believe anything they say about ‘love’.
Seeing as their last conversation from only god knows when was about how wonderful a cruise sounded, he could only deduce that they were on a cruise ship. Somewhere in the Bahamas, where they’ll probably be for the next few week. They’re probably drowning each other with their love…
Ugh, he does NOT want to think about how that works or what they do when no one was watching. It was just a plainly gross thought to have. But there was one thing he was thinking about. He wondered how they could forget the one thing they shouldn’t forget, their ever-loving and sweet son.
Honestly, being the weirdos they are, they probably didn’t even notice.He was home alone and they were somewhere making googly eyes at each other. Why do they always forget that he still lives with them, breathing the same air as them and their mad love?
No, he is NOT being grumpy because they don’t pay attention to him. He’s just being very rational about being left home alone…again. Sure, he wasn’t a minor anymore but he was an overemotional and unstable 20-year-old. Leaving him home alone was irresponsible and yes, he was blaming them.
They’re home for most of the year. Most of that time they use to plan how they would avoid him be going on holidays abroad. But as soon as school was out, they vanish leaving a note with barely any info about where they are and when they’ll be back. He felt like a spy or a detective. They left him cryptic clues to solve, “The Great Mystery of When Will My Parents Come Home?”
Their semi-negligence sometimes makes him feel like he wasn’t even their kid. But then again, he couldn’t deny his resemblance to them. He had his mother’s Santa Malan face and his father’s foreign coloring. He looked like every other citizen of Santa Mala, a mixed blood that was about 65% Asian, 20% European and 15% something else. He wasn’t really sure because his father had a mysterious background. All he knew was that he had a very unusual color palette for this region of the world. He had dark hair, blacker than charcoal and pale skin that was warm toned. He greatly contrasted the vast majority of the citizens of Santa Mala.
Though there was one thing he hated about his looks. If he was described to a blind person, he would completely fit the description of a teenage vampire from angst-ridden romance novels, even down to the sullen expression he usually wore. He knew and he hated it.
If flowery words were put into play, they would say he had sexy high cheekbones and a dark stare. In reality, he was malnourished so his cheekbones jut out and he had an imbalanced sleeping schedule so the bags under his eyes made his already sullen expression dark and mysterious.
His face was okay, a little effeminate but he gets by. The thing he was kind of pissed about was the idiots who think that just because he’s a guy who looks like a girl, he’d let them cop a feel. The bullying was hell when he was a kid. A skinny ass kid trying to get away from grubby fingers trying to pry his supposed secret girl-ness was a common scene of his childhood. He hated those assholes and he was glad his best friend defended him so often against those losers. Most of them backed off when faced with his tall friend but there were the relentless few. His last resort was pepper spray and small blades. Those came in handy for the relentless fools.
All that encompassed him proved to be a girl magnet but now in the normal sense. Girls, especially the popular ones, flock to him in gaggles, bearing their niceties and girl-ness. They made him their official “hot gay guy who totes has to be your gay BFF”. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant but he was glad for the wall of girls who stuck to him and thankfully help protect him from idiots. He participated in the buddy system and flock mentally. It meant he was safe from wandering hands. Thank you, rape whistle.
It also helped that because of the girls, he was in the know with everything that happened because girls have their network of information. It was too complicated for him to be a part of so he was thankful for their generosity with the info.
If he was being honest, he wouldn’t have minded the wandering hands if it was from someone he reciprocated. Consent is a thing and he heavily screams it at anyone who thinks otherwise. He and his cherry like where they are, not popped and he was going to keep it that way no matter what anyone said.
Where was he? What was he talking about? Oh yeah, his parents and their lack of being appropriate parental figures.
They always behaved appropriately in front of company, made sure his needs as well as his wants were met and even made sure to attend any meetings or gatherings from his school. They also leave him with an allowance every week for whatever his eyes suddenly tells his brain it wants and a fridge with enough food for him to actually gain weight. He wouldn’t starve. Nor would he find himself in a street downtown at 3 in the morning because he didn’t have money for a cab home so he has to wait for the sun to come up so he can trek back to the house and not get mugged by some random moron who thinks that just because he is skinny AF and looks like he’s halfway through an FTM transition doesn’t mean he didn’t have pepper spray or a blade to defend himself.
That wasn’t the problem at all. It was the principle of ‘me no parent, they yes parent’! He was in the stage of life where every parent would love nothing more than to leash their teenagers to the basement during Fridays to keep them from going out to those excessive parties that he was cool enough, by the way, to always be invited to.
He was quite thankful to have a best friend with a semi-strict parent who only allowed them to go to half the parties, once pre-approved by Dr. Ditta, Jace’s mother. If they didn’t have her guidance, he’d probably be in a ditch, puking out his guts from his staggering alcohol intake and contract a liver ulcers by the time he hits 25. Seriously, why do they leave him, dammit!
Don’t they think they should try to control him and his increasingly alarming alcohol tolerance? He isn’t at the point where he could chug a bottle of pure vodka but if they don’t keep track of him, he will get there eventually. He doesn’t know how but he knows he will find a way to get to that point.
Seriously, the least they could do is bring him with them on their very expensive trips. He knew they had the money to bring him, he’s peeked at the family accounts. There was money there for them to bring him with them on their trips.
Well, for now at least, he can’t really do anything about it. They’re gone, have been for maybe half a week now. It was absolutely horrible of them to pick his exam week to probably F off on their vacation.
Maybe it wasn’t that bad. They did text him, at least. Once every twelve hours and a grace period of a day for a reply. It was both a status update and supplies inventory, that’s how they cared. It’s somewhat a relief, maybe, that they at least remember to text and ask what souvenir he wanted.
Okay, maybe he didn’t have it that bad with them. But he still wished they at least tried to spend time with him when he’s not swamped between his episodes and 17 school projects and papers. They only half neglected him and he was a grown ass almost adult. They didn’t need to be constantly vigilant of his state. His parents were good people however, they had no issues leaving their beloved only son at home alone. There was nothing he could really do about it.
Why was he sitting on this overstuffed excuse of a couch that his mom thinks ties the whole room together when it looks like a chessboard threw up on it?
God, it was so ugly. He wasn’t sure how father who was a professional his interior designer allowed the monstrosity to even be dragged into the property. Maybe love turned a blind eye to design clashes when it came to home décor. He had a hunch that their living room wasn’t in his portfolio and that’s how he still has his job.
Wait. That wasn’t the point of the question. The point was why is he sitting here contemplating his relationship with his parents and their taste in furnishings?
He should act his age, be a rebel. Well not a rebel, technically he was emancipated and he could do what he wanted. But he knew one thing that no parent ever wants their children to ever go to, wild parties. Surface or underground, either way it was unsafe when you thought about where teenagers rub their overzealous bodies on. Maybe even be on the street having deals with the preppy drug dealers. He wasn’t even kidding about that one. It was hilarious how most of the kids selling their prescriptions were the kids raised by parents who were so uptight they put a 6pm curfew for their wayward children. Not that it ever stopped those kids from getting out without their knowledge.
This is not how he was meant to be spending break. He was passably popular, according to “sources”. Sources being the girls who think they can make him straight and were always subtly hinting at something, he wasn’t sure what. With the guys, they just seem to like watching from afar and pretend that their voices aren’t loud enough for him to hear how they think his ass looks in his tight skinny jeans. It was that and their ever hopeful dreams about, just maybe, under all his paleness and sarcasm was an actual girl hiding behind the veneer of a sexually ambiguous supposedly gay guy.
It was their problem not his. He was whatever and he didn’t much care for who he would end up with, as long as they were someone he wanted and wanted him back. Someone who could hold a conversation with him and wasn’t dumb as bricks would also be great. He’s seen some of the girls he hangs out with date losers who were absolute idiots. Complete and utter idiots that make you really wonder how they survived life up to that point. It was embarrassing. He also didn’t want to be a trophy to someone nor did he want a trophy. He wanted someone intelligent or at least didn’t have a vacant sign in their head. In addition to that, if they looked like a god, he wouldn’t mi-
RIIIINNNNNGG. What?
His pants were vibrating and it was making him feel like his organs were moving from how low the vibration was. He groped around in the tightness of his pants, how did he not realize he pocketed the damned thing? He was fumbling with himself, he seriously couldn’t get it out of his pocket. Why were his pants so tight? Were these ladies pants and he just didn’t realize when he bought it?
Nah, the pockets were deep enough that his phone was in it so he probably just got a size too small, he was sure it wasn’t because he gained weight. The bile he flushed before his self-inflicted coma was proof of that. So, why did he have pants this tight then?
Wait, now he remembers. The girls and boys say his ass looks amazing in them.
“Hello, Dylan and company complaints hotline. We’re happy to hear about how much of an ass you’re being to overcompensate for your lack of intelligence. How can I be of service?”
“What the hell? Did you actually just answer a call with that?” It was Jace, the asshole friend. The little F-er didn’t even contact him while he was dead asleep. He was a little pissed and his conniving brain was already starting to plan how he was going to get revenge. Maybe he could get Dr. Ditta in on it…
“Hey, dude? C’mon, don’t get stuck inside your own brain again. Answer me, dude.”
“Sorry, what were you saying?” Well, he’s not wrong about that one.
“I was asking if you wanted to come over and play video games. Mom’s not home till tomorrow morning and she said she talked to auntie about the trip so you have no excuse not to come over.” Well, at least now he knows his parents contacted Dr. Ditta to check on him.
“I’ll bring what’s in the pantry over.” Might as well, considering he would probably be spending the majority of his parent’s vacation over at Jace’s house.
“Yeah, mom hasn’t gotten the groceries yet and it’ll be a good surprise for her.” He giggled. Wow, that is the creepiest thing anyone could hear over the phone. “Buddy, you spoil me so much! I won’t be eating takeaways because you bring better options. If I wasn’t straight and you were my type, I would have started making out with you when we were kids.” Nope, he was wrong. THAT is the creepiest thing anyone could ever hear over the phone.
“Buddy, you’re gross. That’s a mental image I never needed.” He hears laughter from the other end, the asshole.
“I’ll be there…” What time is it anyway? The clock by the opposite wall says 11:33, wow it’s before noon. He thought it was at least two in the afternoon. “…by one. Clean your room! I don’t wanna accidentally pop anymore condoms that you forgot about.” Ugh. It was the worst thing he ever experienced. They were sitting by the bed watching movies when he leaned back on his hands. It was a gross sensation. A squish then pop of latex in his hand from under the bed, apparently filled with his-
“It was one time and I didn’t know it was there. I’m usually thorough after Amy is over. I’m just glad you found it and not mom. That’s a conversation I never want to have.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be over. Hanging up now.”
“Wait, I still have to te-“
“Thank you for your patronage and we hope we were of service.” He clicked the call away and shoved the phone back into the recesses of his tight pants.
Seriously, Jace was such a blabbermouth. If he let the asshole keep talking, he would get to the Ditta Household by sunset, tomorrow. It was a trait that was passed from mother to son. He would go as far as to say that it was a problem.
Jace would never start a conversation with anyone. He’d wait until he was approached and was wary of everyone, literally everyone, even his mom sometimes. Sure, Jace talks to their friends, to him and to Dr. Ditta but that was it. Everyone else was just a noisy wall he ignores. He would make others shut up, no matter if he should or shouldn’t. That and his looks, make people think he’s just the dark, silent brooding type.
Which he really didn’t get, brooding should not be attractive to people. But people fall for it, for him. It was absurd. Why were people attracted to the silent brooding? It was one step away from depression and another two from probably an angry psycho killer. It was a fine line but apparently his best friend was in just the right spot.
The brooding was also accompanied by smoldering ashen eyes that make people fan themselves. It was a ‘come hither’ look that made everyone else swoon. Personally, he thought it made Jace look just a little bit constipated. He’s seen his buddy when he needs to go and his expression is humorously similar to the one everyone says is a lady killer look.
If he thought about it, he could definitely say he was slightly popular because of the girls, and occasional guys who try to get a grope once in a while but Jace is the real deal. As much as it pains him to admit it, Jace is the school heartthrob. Disgusting but true.
When they were kids, Jace was like many of the other children, cute but not cute enough. Meanwhile, he was the cream of the crop of adorable kids. Cherubic cheeks that made everyone want to pinch them, big deep brown eyes that glistened when you look at them and dimples so deep that they made his face all the cuter.
But then puberty hit. The rain of blessings that came with it definitely got funneled to his best friend. He filled in the lanky limbs and now has an F-ing six-pack to go with his suddenly sharp features, baby fat almost all gone, which, by the way, is so not fair. Where did all those sharp edges even come from?
Growing up, they were both on the skinny side. But they had baby fat all over their face and body. So it was a wonder how the sudden attractiveness happened, sharp features like that did not just grow overnight. These alarmingly, and apparently, attractive features were something that had caused a few fights at school. He wasn’t involved but the amount of fights that were solely to determine who Jace should and should not go with was alarmingly higher than necessary.
What’s even worse about this was the attention he got was by far different. He had people trying to “convert” him back to being straight or the others that tried to harass him. First of all, you couldn’t go back to what you never were and secondly, people are just completely privileged assholes. Compare that to how people treated Jace and you see how machismo was heavily valued in their society. Jace was as skinny looking as him but he had about a 10-pound advantage. This meant his best friend was a little broader in the shoulders and had barely visible muscle definition. The hazel haired teen should be getting the same unwanted attention he was getting. He was a few inches taller than Jace but that didn’t even matter. Jace was the heart rending heartthrob and he was one of the trophies everyone wanted, sucks.
Standing up from the devastation that was the checkerboard couch, he ambled over to the kitchen where he knew his mother had left his prescription pouch. It was a small orange pouch filled with a daily dispenser for each pill he had to take. His mother had made sure to make it as loud and vibrant as possible to make sure he wouldn’t forget about it. He spots the tiny pouch on top of another note on the kitchen counter. He pulls the note up to his face.
“Let’s see what mom and dad have to say. Hmmm…Here’s for today. Blah, blah, blah … Be safe. Love, M & D.” He couldn’t quite remember when they started to put just initials to mom and dad but it seemed like a natural thing to happen when it came to his weird parents.
Maybe it was their way of being cool, or they got lazy. The bad thing though was at the same time they started using just initials, they also started writing the notes in the worst chicken scratch cursive he’s ever seen.
He took his happy candy for the day, swallowing the small multicolored pills dry. It was a habit he picked up just before high school. It made him feel manly and a little awesome that he could swallow the pills without having to down any fluids after. It gave him a little sense of machismo because he was the only one he knew that could take the bitter pills without making a face. It was funny how he did this to feel a little macho but he still dresses like he’s trying to out-skinny jeans the girl in his grade.
Well, so much for that. He had some groceries to pack, a bath to take and a short drive to the Ditta Household. If he wanted to get things done, he needed to focus on his goals and get a move on.
It’s been 20 minutes since he arrived at Jace’s doorstep. It’s also been 20 minutes since he started banging on the door, ringing the doorbell, and still no response. He’s nothing if not persistent, Jace invited him and he wasn’t leaving. He was a semi-permanent resident here! How dare that idiot forget he was coming over! Maybe it was also his fault that he forgot his key to the place in Jace’s room but that was because the idiot spilled mango juice all over him. Seeing as he is deathly allergic to mangoes, he didn’t really have the time to pick up the little key as he was carted away in an ambulance.
Maybe screaming was better. It’s past noon, no one would probably mind if he started screaming his head off to be let in. Dropping his 10-pound backpack by the door, he steps out into the lawn and walks over to where he can see Jace’s bedroom window.
“HEY! JAACE! ASSHOLE! I’M ALREADY DOWN HERE! OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR ALREADY!” He got a few stink eyes from the parents covering their children’s ears down the road but the loud thud from upstairs meant he got the job done. The window opened via a tan hand he knew just as much as he knew his own hand, and wow, that thought came out wrong. A familiar shock of light hazel locks tied up in a loose bun pops out the window along with that sly grin that meant his best friend was doing something that he really doesn’t need to be privy to.
“I’ll be down in a sec.” The grin on Jace’s face got wider, crinkling his eyes with mischief, and it only sent shivers of disgust up his spine. He nodded slowly, not really in the mood to speak until he got a glass of water. Trying to see if he could shout his throat out wasn’t something he had planned to do today. But it was a skill he had yet to master. It was a necessary life skill, especially when a person was friends with the ever-selectively deaf, Jace Ditta.
As he was about to walk back to the front porch, another familiar head pops up from the window. Red locks flow freely down the edge of the windowsill as that small face smiles at him, a fair hand waves accompanying the cheery smile.
“Hey, Dylan! Sorry it took us a while to hear you. Kinda busy up here.” Well, that explained the grin. His suspicions were right, Jace was doing someone not something.
Gross, he interrupted Jace and his girlfriend, Amy Chryn while they were doing the nasty. God, he hopes he doesn’t find any more of their packaged essences around the house. He still shivered at the last time a condom popped in his hand, a used condom.
.
He gets out of his thoughts and looks up to the window again. Amy had the same dopey but mischievous grin that Jace had. She had a shirt draped over her shoulders to keep her modesty but it suspiciously looked like one of the threadbare shirts he owned in Jace’s closet.
He smiles back amicably as he silently curses Jace for giving his shirt to a sex soaked Amy. He adored his best friend so he tolerated anyone he was dating but he would need to burn that shirt if they try to give it back. He didn’t need more evidence of just how much physical intimacy the two can have in an hour.
Oh god, he hopes it isn’t laundry day. Jace had a habit of using up the clothes he left for the usual sleepovers. If everything was in the wash, that meant that both of those sex-addled idiots were probably wearing his clothes. Please not his underwear, please.
The front door opens to a shirtless Jace, his pants low and a peek of what he dreads showing. Black boxers that he knew would never be from Jace’s own wardrobe was taunting him from his idiot friend’s hips. He frowns, this…he can’t even think of an insult because so many come to mind that choosing was too difficult so he settles for a demand instead.
“You owe me a duffel of clothes not stanky from you and Amy’s fucking.”
“Hello to you to, Dylan.” He sounded a little remorseful for what he knows he’s done but the smirk counters any inflection in his voice. Why was he still friends with this, this regretless sex-hazed idiot?
“If it makes you feel better, we at least left most of your clothes save for one shirt and the two pairs of underwear you left.” No, it did not make him feel better. He pushed the backpack of groceries to the waiting arms and shoved past Jace. He made sure not to make any contact with the sweaty torso and suspicious white substance staining Jace’s left hip. They were best friends but there was a limit and that limit is becoming privy to not only their sexual acts but also the physical residue it left on Jace and his girlfriend.
“Just tell me you’ve thrown out the condoms before one inexplicably finds its way near me. I still get goose bumps from the one that I accidentally squished and popped in my hand from under your bed.” Jace at least had the decency to look sheepish at that.
“That was an accident.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go shower. I don’t wanna hang out if you smell like that. It stinks, man, and I’m saying that as a genuine and concerned best friends. Honest!” He raises one hand as if in oath but he continues in his mind ‘Honest, it’s not as someone who generally thinks you shouldn’t sex up your girlfriend if you plan to meet your very bitter and sexually dormant best friend who has 20 years’ worth of experience when it comes to celibacy.’
“Okay. Give me a sec.” Jace runs up the stairs just as Amy comes down looking freshly showered and in the light purple shirt that had just been draped over her shoulders earlier. Her red hair was slightly damp and up in a bun, water drip dropping in small stains on the shirt. The shirt looked huge on her despite him being such a skinny brat. Amy was so petite that even in his extra small shirts, she looked like she was about to drown in fabric. The shirt would have reached above mid-thigh if it hadn’t been pulled and tied into a knot, showing the high-waist cut-offs that didn’t even reach above mid-thigh.
.
The two kissed as they passed each other on the stairs. From where he sat on the couch in front of the TV, he made loud gagging sounds both to express what he felt and to stop their make out session before it got intense. He didn’t want to be downstairs drowning the noises even though he knew what it was they were doing and how loud both of them could be. The two look at him and he turns back to the console to set up but not before he sees the loving eye roll Amy sends his way.
“Hey, Dylan, like my shirt?” She was a total B when she wanted to be. Her smirk says it all. He smiles as sardonically as he possibly can and turns to her as she rounds the dark velvet sofa, which, just by the way, would definitely match the living room in his house compared to the checkerboard monstrosity that was waiting for him at home.
“Yeah, considering it’s mine. But definitely, I brought it here as a way to clothe both of you when you decide to compete with rabbits for most sex in an hour.” That should bring a frown to her face as it usually does but her smirk widens. She pulls up the shirt and puts it in her mouth, biting the fabric, further ruining it, as she plops in his lap while pulling her shorts open.
Okay, this was weird. Not the fact that she was straddling him, that’s something both Amy and Jace did to emphasize their point to him. It was a weirdly platonic contact the three of them shared. What was weird was the fact that he knew, when Amy was in a playful mood, it did not bode well for him. It wasn’t that Jace got jealous and beat him up, it had more to do with the fact that her “playfulness” always ended with him either extremely humiliated or miffed.
“Glad you like it. The underwear matches it.” He follows her gaze down to where she was pulling her shorts down. Now, he understood. No wonder Jace said two pairs, he was wearing one and she was wearing the other. He couldn’t even bring himself to stop the face he made as she plops down beside him. He turns to her, resentful expression still in place.
“Okay. One, that’s gross. That’s my underwear, why do you guys have to defile them? Two, both of you owe me a new pair and a shirt because honey, I never want to wear anything that has Jace-and-Amy post-sex germs on them. And three, why, just why!?” She laughs heartily next to him as he shoves his face into his hands frustrated, the controller banging his forehead just enough to make him flinch. She pats him on his shoulder. His friends were terrible people.
“Stop being such a drama queen. This is my revenge for the dare you made Jace do with my underwear. I can never wear those again, no matter how sexy Jace looked when he wore those.” Yeah, he remembered that. They were daring each other, Jace had made him steal the aforementioned underwear from Amy’s overnight pack. She was showering and the bag was inside the bathroom.
Jace wanted to see him mortified by Amy’s wrath as he quietly took the pair. Amy had seen him and shook her head, telling him that she wanted them back undefiled by him. She never said anything about Jace so he had dared his best friend to wear the lacy garments until he left for the night they had their sexy time. He had laughed so hard when both were too mortified to face each other after their night of debauchery while Jace wore the thing.
He found himself beaming back at her. Well, he couldn’t get angry if it was revenge for that. It has by far been one of the more epic events they’ve had this year. It was boring but considering how focused they’ve been on their studies this year, it was the peak of their hilariousness while multitasking 7 different papers. The awkwardness between the two had been euphoric to watch. It made him chortle to himself even now.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about but I agree with her, I am sexy.” The voice was full of mirth. Turning around, he spotted where Jace had paused by the banister. He was freshly showered, finally, and wearing what suspiciously looks like another of his shirts. He sighed, was their no sense of boundary between them? They were best friends, he’d give Jace blood if he needed it but he stopped at clothing. Personal space was something he valued, thank you very much.
It wasn’t like he was the type that hated loaning his things to people, he was generous about things but clothes were things that got up and personal on his body. He didn’t want them smelling of other people. Nor did he want his clothes to have associated memories with other people. It was so intimate and as much as he thinks he’s ready, he really can’t stomach it yet.
This was the biggest reason he has never had a steady relationship. He’s been on dates with a few people here and there but it never ended well because intimacy was something he couldn’t quite grasp yet. Jace and Amy made it seem so easy with how they’re always at each other’s throats trying to mark each other but for him, he just couldn’t picture himself in that position. It was startling how he couldn’t even imagine himself having any kind of relationship beyond a platonic one.
Maybe he just wasn’t built for it. Or, heaven forbid, his parents were right and he just hasn’t met the one. It was a terrifying thought that if he did find whoever it is he was “destined” to be with, he could possibly be as sappy and gooey as his parents are with their love.
He shivers, the tremors jolt him back to reality and the ongoing debate of how sexy Jace is between the two sitting beside him. He turns to one then the other, their gaze heated and it charged the air with the sexual tension they have yet to fully release. He was putting a stop to this before he finds himself in the unfortunate position of becoming the audience to a show he didn’t ever want to see. The words audience participation suddenly flashes in his mind, he shivers in both terror and disgust.
“Okay. Stop. I don’t want you guys having sex on my lap.” He pales, both looked just about ready to pounce on each other in a show of their inner thrill seekers.
“No, no! I do not want to be a witness to your exhibitionism. Look away from each, away, I say!” He turns their heads to face away from each other, legitimate dread surfacing up as they giggle at him while trying to turn their heads back towards him.
“I get it, I get it. Let go of my head before you push too hard and leave me with a stiff neck.” Amy pushes his hand away as she stands up, reaching for the small purse by the side table. She was still giggling before she continued. “I’m going. You boys have fun now. Bye.” She reaches out to hug him, he returns it reluctantly, then turns to Jace for one last passionate kiss. They both head to the door to say their final goodbyes for the day, hands reaching for anything they can caress.
The door shuts and he hears the soft footsteps padding back to where he has their first game of the day set up. The animated futuristic sounds that permeate from the speakers fill the silence as they sit together. Both controllers now in hand, they start in silence.
His backpack that had lain forgotten by his feet was now open. Chips and other snacks litter the coffee table in front of them. Cans of alcoholic sodas they found in an “organic” grocery that tasted better and was apparently healthier than other such kind of drinks were haphazardly placed around the floor. It didn’t taste bad and it left them energized despite the soft buzz it gave after the first few cans. They have a steady rhythm as they play, reaching out for food and drinks silently as both alternate on who pauses the game. The only other sound aside from the game itself is their loud cursing.
They don’t have actual conversations when they play because it was weird and both were content with the silence. It was their usual bit but today, it seemed that good ole Jace had something in his mind that seemed to be something he couldn’t quite talk about with his girlfriend. It hadn’t been more than an hour since Amy left and Jace was already nudging him for his attention.
“What?” He mumbles, his eyes never leaving the screen but his body angles towards Jace just the tiniest bit. He hears the sigh, resignation. Jace knew better than to distract him from any game, knew that he took every game seriously. He can feel as the other slouches over him, trying to make him leave the game. When that didn’t work, he sees his best friend stand and move away, somewhere his side glance could not see.
And then the screen blacks out, the console dying with it. He was confused at first, kept hitting the buttons on his controller until he realizes that Jace had unplugged everything. Well, that got his attention. He turns to Jace where he sees him holding the unplugged extension cord in his hand. A disgruntled expression contrasts the lax posture his body has taken as he slumps back on the couch.
That ashen gaze catches his own amber and he knows this is important. Games are a high priority for both of them, only being trumped by their friendship plus Amy on Jace’s part. He shifts to stare at his best friend, the question already showing in his expression. Waiting for an explanation, he reaches over to get a can and sips as he stares back at Jace. The other nods to himself and drops the cord, walking over to the couch and spreading eagle beside him.
“I’m bored.”
“That’s why we were playing that game. You know, the one that was filled with corpse looting, evil creatures and enchanted forests. The one you so rudely pulled the plug on.” They were playing, that should have abated the boredom. Jace turns his head towards him and looks just about done.
“Not that. I mean, we’re finally out of school. No more stupid tests, dumbfounding papers and arrogant professors. Everything just feels so…muted.” What in the world is this idiot talking about? He takes a large gulp, alcohol will make this much more understandable. He hisses at the cold fizz that sizzles in his throat and offers the can to Jace. The other takes it and downs it in one go. His actions though enthusiastic in nature, seemed sluggish as Jace slumps back again.
“Muted? What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t feel the rush we usually get when we do this kind of thing. It’s like everything just seems to be so tame.” That could just be the alcohol. Or maybe it was the three months prior they pent either asleep, working on their requirements or at school.
For three months, they had no breaks. They ate while doing homework, defecated with a textbook, peed while memorizing formulas, everything had been so hectic. So very hectic that sleep was more passing out from sheer exhaustion than a restful slumber. Maybe they’ve matured, made them unable to enjoy their old lifestyle.
“I guess, I kinda get what you mean. I’ve been curling up on every soft surface I can find. I feel like I slept more in the past three days than I have for the past three months.” He slumps beside Jace, just now realizing his inability to enjoy the simplicity of finally being a carefree individual. It was a depressing thought. He silently cursed out his best friend, it was rude to make him sound boring but at the same time made him want to reevaluate what he was going to do with his life.
“This sounds like we’re having a joint existential crisis.”
“Well, I guess we really are close.”
“Yeah.” Silence ensues. They both sit still, staring blankly ahead. How are they going to live life if they can’t enjoy the modest pleasures that pubescent boys on the cusp of adulthood take part in that did not include the play of their genitals?
Groaning was all he could do to cut the silence. Jace looks over at him then thumps him on the back of his head. He would usually just glare or ignore the other but it seemed like hitting back was a better idea. He thumps the other on the back of his head, harder than when he was hit. This makes the brunette look over at him with an unreadable expression. They weren’t really angry at each other or were the kind to resort to violence but here they were trying to punch the living daylights out of each other. Kicking and shoving, both jut silently trying to beat the other up until they both tire out. They lay beside each other on the floor, panting from the exertion. Sweat dripping from their foreheads, a light sheen leaving them sticky and warm.
“Was that exciting enough for you?” His breath was short and he knew bruises were beginning to bloom all over his body but he felt satisfied, he had gotten some good shots too. He was trying to catch his breath but it was like sand was poured down his esophagus. It left his mouth dry and made him feel like he was about to get an asthma attack. Jace lightly punches his shoulder one last time before giggling. What was it with this guy and giggling? You’d think with the way he looks he’d be more stoic but he had always had a funny bone that made him laugh way too much, way too often.
“It was exciting but not enough. I feel great right now, even if I‘ll start hurting later but it’s such an all-consuming thing. I want to feel adrenaline pump through my veins and leave me breathless like…’
“Sex?” Disgusting to think about when it’s between Jace and Amy but it was the first thing to pop up in his mind.
“Yup.” He heard more than saw the leering expression on his friend’s face. It made him realize something.
“Is that why you guys were having sex in my clothes?”
“…Your clothes, the stairs, the kitchen, the downstairs bathroom, the garage, in her car, by the window in my room. It’s exciting! Makes it feel like we could get caught at any time.”
“Oh my god! Was that why neither of you were answering when I arrived? Eww, you made me a tool in your desperate attempt at exciting sex. Not cool, buddy.” He grimaced, that was so not cool. It made him think about all the times he’s caught them in the act. They always pick the most susceptible places at oddly random times. Now he knew they planned it, made sure they were caught, annoying adrenaline junkies. This, now, also adds to the list of information he knows but never ever wanted to, hurrah!
“But it’s still not enough. I mean Amy is awesome, she helps alleviate the monotony of this new life we have but it’s like I crave for more.”
“Wow, you just called your girlfriend a means to pass boredom. That’s a high level of assholery I didn’t think you would achieve.” He peeks at Jace and sees the flustered expression.
“That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying she helps me out. She can’t relate to how I feel right now. She says she’s set for the next ten years and that keeps her motivated. But me and you on the other hand, we got nothing and its driving me crazy.”
“You got a point. Maybe we really do need a pace changer.” Jace hummed his agreement next to him.