Drive Away the Night
He knew he didn't deserve this. And he knew the other thought so too.
Yet every night he still found himself in the other's bed, begging.
"Ralph, please…"
And Ralph would comply with his request. Skin would slide against skin, hands would fumble in the darkness, lips would meet in a rough kiss.
When someone came around to check the dorms, they were never surprised to find one boy curled up with another. Especially, the checker would remind himself, in the rooms those boys slept in. The boys from the island. They had all been transferred to this school after their rescue. Three years had crawled by, and nightmares still circulated through their group. The younger ones (the term 'littlun' had long since passed amongst them; it brought too many horrific memories) still huddled with each other in their beds. Why couldn't the older ones? And they did.
However, when the checker closed the door to Ralph and Jack's room, he didn't know that the two boys were awake. As soon as the door clicked shut, limbs that were entwined began to move, breath that had been slowed quickened pace, and hands skimmed smooth skin.
On this particular night, Jack began to wonder when this whole thing had started. He didn't remember when, but he remembered how. He'd had a nightmare and had woken to someone slapping his face. Eyes opened to Ralph's face. The other had a hard glint in his usually bright eyes (bright eyes meant for his friends, not for Jack; they never shined for Jack these days). He told Jack he'd been tossing in his sleep. Jack just stared at him, still panting from the terrifying dream – beast, kill, run, hunt, Ralph, help, save, hope…? Ralph snorted when the other didn't respond and turned away. Jack panicked and grabbed Ralph's nightshirt, dragging the boy down to his bed and mashing their lips together. And somehow, without any resistance or hesitation, they just went from there.
It happened once a month in the beginning, both being high-strung and tense afterward with the thought that the other would tell people what they had done. They soon came to realize that neither wanted to do that. After that, it happened once a week, twice a week, and then almost every night Jack found himself tumbling into his roommate's bed.
Ralph hissed lowly and Jack was brought back to reality. He buried his face into his partner's neck and moaned.
He knew that when this was over, he'd have to go back to his own empty, cold bed, leaving all this warmth behind. Ralph would roll over and ignore whatever mess had been made – he always cleaned up later – and that would be it.
It was always dark so they never saw each other's faces, though Jack once saw Ralph's. It had been stony and impassive, as though he didn't care that about the heated, passionate actions they partook in almost every night. Jack never wanted to see Ralph's face after that. He didn't like it when the other looked so…empty-hearted, and towards him no less!
Jack pushed all depressing thoughts from his mind (as he always did these days) and allowed himself to ride out the euphoric wave that washed over him as he reached his limit.
The next morning, just like every morning after that happened, Ralph went on ignoring him. In the dining hall, Ralph sat with his friends which included those from the island. He had long since reconciled with them, realizing that they had all feared Jack at the time. Even Roger, after a time, come around and apologized in tears, had even embraced Ralph.
Jack sat alone on a windowsill out of everyone's way. He was never invited to join them at their table, and he never bothered to ask if he could. He knew he wasn't welcome. In class Jack sat in the back and never raised his hand. He'd long since lost the comfortable confidence he felt when eyes were on him. So now he was silent.
Being with Ralph every night drove away the darkness and kept the nightmares away. He knew that, and he knew that Ralph knew that.
Jack trudged wearily to his room after a long day of classes, these thoughts plaguing his mind. Ralph was already there doing homework. He didn't even acknowledge the other's presence, and action that nearly broke Jack's heart.
He croaked weakly, "It's a beautiful day out."
"Hn."
He swallowed, feeling tears prick his eyes, but he tried again. "Wouldn't you rather go outside?" With me? he wanted to add.
"No."
Jack felt proud that he was able to keep from breaking down and crying, but that didn't mean he felt any better. He sat down heavily, the bed sagging beneath his weight, and pulled out his books.
Night soon came and lights were being turned out. Jack scratched a final answer down and put away his schoolwork. Ralph left to brush his teeth and prepare for bed; he always went first. When he returned, Jack went, glancing at the other but receiving no reaction.
He came back to a room of darkness, lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the open drapes. He frowned; he didn't like the drapes open. But then again, Ralph was the one who opened them, so Jack wasn't about to oppose the boy (he didn't want to give him another excuse to hate him). He meekly crawled into Ralph's bed and pressed himself against the other's relaxed figure.
Jack exhaled softly, wondering if things would ever be right again. If he would ever have friends again. If he would ever be loved again.
Ralph slowly turned and took Jack into his arms. It was routine for them. They heard the familiar opening of doors a little while later, and theirs was opened. They were relaxed now, breathing evenly, in sync. The door closed.
Jack slowly moved his hands across the other's chest, suddenly wanting to get the night over with. He was surprised when Ralph pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and brushed some orange strands from his eyes. Tonight, Ralph was in control. Feverish kisses peppered Jack's face.
Through the haze, as always, both his and Ralph's clothes were removed, and the hot mouth began to trace maps over Jack's body. He whimpered when the other's tongue dragged down the inside of his thigh. Ralph never did this before they were about to—
Fuck, Jack's mind inserted. It was a harsh, cruel word that described what they did at night now. It had never been "make love". There was no love in this sad relationship. Not from Ralph anyway. And Jack didn't expect any.
Nonetheless, Jack decided that tonight that he'd pretend, just like he had on the island. He'd pretend that Ralph's kisses were full of love; when he pushed into Jack, he pretended that Ralph was only doing this because he cared for him – lies, all lies, his mind hissed. In the middle of their actions, the drapes were shifted by a small gust of wind – Ralph had apparently opened the window as well – and a beam of gentle moonlight struck their faces. Jack shut his eyes quickly. He didn't want to see Ralph's cold face. It was too painful.
But… "Jack."
Such a warm voice. Jack whimpered as his partner moved inside him, striking that one sweet spot that made him see heavenly white. He wanted to pretend that there was love, so he kept his eyes closed. He loves me, loves me, loves me…
No he doesn't…
Shut up! Loves me, loves me…
"Jack."
It was a whisper. Jack gripped Ralph's shoulders, wondering why the other would break their silent rule that no words were to be spoken during their nightly activities.
A third time his name was uttered: "Jack." And then, "Open your eyes."
Jack shook his head and Ralph moved again, eliciting a wanton moan from both of their mouths.
"Oh, Jack."
His heart nearly stopped, but he swallowed and cracked his eyes, expecting to see the face he always imagined: hateful, hurting, not feeling, not caring…
Ralph's face was flushed and damp; his breathing was quick. The corners of his lips were turned slightly upward, and his eyes…oh, his eyes! Jack felt a tear slide down his check as his broken heart swelled. Oh, it was love. He saw it.
He wasn't pretending anymore.
Island be damned. Pretending be damned.
Ralph dipped his head after Jack saw his face and bit his neck. And they both moved together. This time they did make love, and Jack, for the first time in a long time, felt happy. When they released much later that night, limbs tangled, breathing soft, everything feeling just right, Jack spoke.
"Why?" His voice was thick with emotion.
Ralph pressed tightly to the boy. "Why what?"
"Why do you…" Jack hesitated. Do this? Help me? Love me? Perhaps he hadn't seen that affection he longed for. Perhaps he'd been mistaken. Yes, he thought bitterly, turning away from Ralph and curling into a ball. How could he forgive me for what I did?
An arm snaked about his bare waist and a hot tongue traced the outer shell of his ear. Jack shyly glanced over his shoulder and looked at Ralph, and his thoughts changed quickly. It was still there. That look. That love. Gathering what little courage had been revived, he asked, "Why did you…forgive me?" Yes, that seemed like the right word.
Ralph sighed, breath ghosting over Jack's neck. His arms tightened around his torso. "I suppose…well, I keep away your nightmares, don't I?"
"You do."
"Well, despite the fact that you should be the cause of every nightmare of mine…you aren't. You keep mine away too."
The other boy twisted in his lover's arms and looked and looked and looked…but no matter how much he did, he saw no trace of a lie in Ralph's face.
His form trembled as Ralph gently kissed him, and then memories of the island flooded his mind.
Piggy. Oh, God, I caused his death! No, Roger did it. He pushed the rock…no, I influenced him. And Simon. A wail rose from his throat but was eaten up by Ralph who devoured his lips. Oh, Simon, I'm so sorry!
Jack Merridew wept.
Ralph comforted him lovingly, whispering, "I know, I know. Sh, it's okay. I know." And presently he was sharing Jack's sorrow, shoulders shaking as he cried into his shoulder. "They were my friends."
"I'm so sorry," Jack whispered, feeling Ralph's leg brush against his length. He moaned as the boy latched onto a bare nipple, tracing it with his tongue. "God."
"You killed them."
Both were aroused again and Jack quickly straddled his hips; his vision was blurred by tears but he didn't need to see in order to do this. Experience and time had allowed him to memorize Ralph's body.
Both hissed as Jack pushed into Ralph, and he pounded mercilessly into the boy.
"You killed my friends!"
"I know!" Jack cried, feeling his nails leave scores in the soft flesh of his back.
Ralph proceeded to name Jack's crimes while they had been on the island and Jack acknowledged them and apologized for them. And then Ralph moaned, "You tried to kill me…"
And their orgasms came and Jack collapsed on Ralph, tears flowing from both sides, sobs racking their sweaty, sated bodies.
Jack stayed silent now, knowing he had no excuse for this one. "I can only apologize for that," he murmured into Ralph's neck. "I can only give you my life. My love. Please accept."
The reply was immediate. "I do. And I give you mine in return."
And both, without any further questions or words, were satisfied.
The next morning Jack awoke to an empty room. His stomach sank. Ralph always left before Jack could wake. Did that mean last night was a dream? Or a lie?
He sorrowfully trudged to the dining hall, which was already filled with the chatter of the boarding school's boys. He went to his window, deciding to skip breakfast; his stomach had too many knots in it anyway.
"Jack."
Head snapped up. Ralph smiled at him and took his hand and lead him to the table of the island boys. They sat down to silence, though the rest of the boys in the hall continued their conversations. Jack looked around the one silent table, locking eyes with each boy. Then he bowed his head and said clearly, "I confess to my crimes. I am guilty of anything you accuse me of. As I told Ralph last night—"
Heat, sweat, passion, love, beast be damned, nightmares be damned, I have love again…
"—I can only offer my apologies to the pain I've caused. The tribe," he paused at the term, because the boys shivered at the memories the word brought back, "may pass judgment on me."
More silence.
And then…
The tension instantly dissolved. He received claps on the back from those nearest to him; others began to talk at once, filling him in on the latest school gossip, but he noticed none of this. His attention was only for the boy next to him who was holding his hand in a warm comforting grip.
Jack smiled shyly and Ralph kissed his smile to reassure him; the others either didn't notice or didn't care. They knew what Jack meant to Ralph. He had told them that morning: Jack was Ralph's world.
Jack didn't really need reassurance anymore, though he accepted it eagerly in the form of a kiss, one that quickly turned passionate and attracted many catcalls from around the hall.
Jack Merridew knew he didn't deserve to be happy, or to be loved. But when he looked at Ralph, who smiled at him, kissed him, loved him, he decided he didn't care. He'd gotten it anyway, and he wasn't letting it go. This one could drive the night away.