Jack's lying on his back, wearing only damp swim trunks. The grass on his back is cool and the sunshine is licking at his front. He could pretty happily never move from this spot. That would never work, in reality, this being the Gaskarth's lawn being probably the most immediate factor. Sure, he and Alex had had this routine for five years now, and he's pretty sure Alex's parents wouldn't mind supplying him with food, jumpers and anything else he may need; but the angle of fencing means at least half an hour less sunlight than his own lawn. He may yet move, he ponders. And then he decides that yes, he will move, very soon. Because Alex is just coming out of the patio doors in a dry T-shirt and walking toward the pool and that's just too tempting.
Alex is toeing a beach ball, trying to remove it from the rippling surface with minimal potential for falling in. What he doesn't account for is the flailing yet strangely effective run that Jack is making towards his best friend. His waist suddenly has rather a lot of skinny teenage legs around it and Alex only has time to shriek, "you fucker" before they hit the water in one tangle of limbs.
Alex surfaces, still with Jack clinging to him like some sort of oversized koala. He leans forward, kisses Jack's nose, a smile turning to a laugh when Jack blushes and swims off. As Jack is getting back onto his Scooby Doo beach towel on the lawn, Alex counts his losses, removing the offending ball and removing his T-shirt to hang on the washing line.
Jack watches his friend pulling his sopping wet shirt off, the fabric clinging in the best ways to his newly acquired muscles. Jack follows the thin golden hair trail to the waistband, white against his tan, biting his lip. Then Alex throws himself down next to Jack, their sides pressed lightly together and Alex's long hair, which he is shaking like a dog, in Jack's direction, or course, tickling his chest when Alex lays his head there. Jack is laughing too as he shakes his own head, not so much to rid it of water, but those thoughts because he needs some composure right now.
It's two weeks later, both boys are asleep on Jack's bedroom floor, only, Jack isn't. No, Jack is watching Alex in the dim illumination from his alarm clock. Shirtless in the heat, his breath falls rhythmically, like a mother's heart beat. Cautious not to wake his friend, Jack lays a hand on the other's flat stomach to feel the movement. He waits for sleep to find him. But time has other plans because Alex stirs, snapping Jack out of his musings. "J-Jack?" his voice croaks out.
"Yeah Alex?"
He stares vaguely in Jack's direction before his eyes adjust and he focuses on the other boy. "Jack," he whispers, tears in his eyes and down his cheeks, "I-I-Tom. I dreamt about it again." He looks so broken. Not the strong, confident boy that had been through so much with Jack by his side, but the eleven year old sat surrounded by his brother's favourite jumper and birthday cards.
Jack holds him close and whispers comforting nonsense into the air above his head. "Alex, I'm here... you're one of the strongest people I know...Alex, I love you."
"I love you too Jack," he had replied, drying his eyes, but then blinking more tears onto his stained cheeks. Jack knows he doesn't mean it in that way, but Jack still smiles into the dark as Alex drifts off, still in Jack's arms. He kisses the top of Alex's golden hair. Finally, he falls asleep, holding his best friend.
Jack is really glad he doesn't dream that night, because more and more he is dreaming about his friend. He's pictured them kissing, several years older than they are now, he's seen Alex's face as they make love, only his face. The expressions as they pass through those familiar eyes. And, honestly, this terrifies him. He hopes it's just hormones, being young and in a relationship with his right hand.
But he has to admit that he loves Alex, really fucking loves him. That scares him more than the wet dreams. Friends can love each other, May tells him, maybe through perception or coincidence. But it's different when you're a girl. He's sure girls can get away with being much more emotional.
The following morning and the boys are still embraced, having moved very little in their sleep. Alex awakes first, finds his nose in Jack's shirt and remembers last night. He thinks about his brother and this time it's a happy memory. He feels Jack shift and snuggles slightly closer. He should probably be backing away or at least getting up to go pee, he needs to, but Jack is warm. Jack smells slightly of fresh sweat mixed with his sister's shampoo. It's a pleasant odour. He's not moving his head from Jack's breathing, Jack is warm and safe. He's his constant.
"I'm lucky to have you," he breathes and Jack snores slightly, ruining the moment.
When Jack does rejoin the land of the living, Alex still has his head on his ribs, one hand tracing abstract patterns in the discarded sheets. "You still there?" He asks, realising this is stupid, he quickly adds: "Are you okay. Better...?"
Alex nods, which Jack feels rather than sees.
"Why didn't you move?" Jack asks, he's not comfortable with this.
Alex shrugs and giggles, "You're comfy. Warm... Jack thank you for not being weird. I-I needed you." He laughs humourlessly, "You're like a teddy bear, or my mum's bed."
And because Alex had said that Jack no longer felt awkward that he was hugging his shirtless best friend. It was innocent; at least it was to Alex. Jack, on the other hand, was going to have to excuse himself soon because it was the morning and he had his (very hot) best friend draped over him all night.
Jack showers first and Alex strolls downstairs to use another bathroom. May sees him in only a pair of her brother's checked pyjama bottoms and winks. He laughs back: "you wish." To which she replies that she thinks Jack has dibs. Something in the way she says it stops Alex in his tracks, but she's gone. What?
Alex does what he needs to and dries his clean hands on his trousers; he'd never had time for towels. He grabs a bowl of Fruit Loops and some orange juice, already finished when Jack comes down from his suspiciously long shower. "Have fun?" Alex teases, making Jack go bright red.
He puts the post-it note that Jack's mum had left on the fridge on Jack's forehead. It doesn't stick and floats down to the table. Boys, could you please do the shopping today – I'm covering for Jane. The list is on the windowsill and there's money in the jar. (Alex, you're in charge) Mum :) x
Jack laughs as he reads it. He turns it over checking the back which says Ps, get some new jeans. I'm fed up of trying to iron your knee holes.
The roads are clear as Alex drives them to Target. "Why can't I drive, it's my parents' car?" Jack had whined. They'd had this conversation so many times; this was more routine than an actual question. The answer was, as always, that he didn't want to die. The car radio is playing something summery and forgettable, quietly as a background to their light hearted arguing.
They navigate the store with the minimum of efficiency, visiting the candy isle about five different times. The act of placing groceries in the trolley becomes a game, earning stern words from two different shopping assistants.
They come to the maze of clothes and Alex heads for Faded Glory, dragging Jack along and abandoning their shopping. He grabs black skinnies and throws them towards Jack. They'll fit okay, he figures, seeing the queue for the changing rooms.
The girl behind the checkout is a little older than they are and flirts slightly, Alex knows it's just to make her job more fun, but he still feels good about himself. "She likes you," he whispers to Jack as they leave, gaining a blush from him. They laugh, but Alex can't shake that feeling, the thought that Jack's embarrassed to be liked. It makes no sense to him. Who wouldn't like Jack?
They spend more time apart the next few days, Alex's mum has just realised how long it is until the new school term and so he's doing all his homework. Jack's been off to visit his grandparents and before they know it, they haven't seen each other in a fortnight.
In this distance Alex hasn't dropped the memory of Jack's reaction to the flirty shop assistant. Jack is funny and confident and attractive, surely he's used to a bit of flirting. It's bugging him so much that he talks to his mum.
They're sat side by side, on the sofa, with a packet of pretzels in Alex's lap. "Have you and Jack fallen out? I haven't seen him around and I've seen a lot more of you... I'm not complaining. I'm just curious." Alex's mum asks.
"He's been busy too. No we're cool. Well, I think we are. He seems insecure though." And then he'd gone on to think out loud and his mum listens patiently. He talks about how Jack sleeps on the floor rather than sharing his double bed with Alex; the incident in Target, how he seemed ashamed; the way he fidgets when Alex uses him as a pillow. He talked about everything. He hadn't even realised how much he had to say until now.
After a lot of venting on her son's part, his mother turned to him and simply says, "I think he likes you."
Alex automatically denies this furiously, even though it all makes sense. With hindsight, every little awkward look said just that. "Anyway why would he have a crush on me...?"
"Why shouldn't he? Alex, you're growing up nicely, you're stubborn as hell, but you know what you want. You're headstrong and decisive. You're a good person and you turned out quite a handsome young man, why shouldn't everybody want to be with you?"
"Because he's my friend and he's a boy."
"I'm in no way saying you have to like him back. Alexander, I know how open minded you are, I don't think it makes the blindest bit of difference whether the person you fall in love with has the same or different parts. I hope you share that view."
"I know, but... it's Jack! And anyway this is all hypothetical."
"Sure it is honey." She whispered, standing up and kissing Alex's forehead.
"Night." And Alex went to bed, a lot on his mind.
The next time the boys meet is at a mutual friend's party. The sky is clear and it's warm enough to sit in your T-shirt, but there's still a slight breeze. They are sat in a tire swing, both of them, that hangs from a tree – Alex isn't sure which type, jack doesn't care – in Zack Merrick's back garden. They're just talking softly and Alex is watching Jack's mouth, thinking about his mother's words.
"Alex, are you listening to a word I say?" Jack asks and Alex kisses him.
It's little more than a peck, but Alex runs off into the house leaving his confused friend grinning like an idiot. He realises once he's in the house, amongst the smell of beer and perspiration, that he probably needs an excuse for coming in. He leaves with a bottle of something bright and probably an extremely high percentage hanging from the fingers of his left hand. He waits until he's a little bit more drunk before he ventures outside again. Jack has moved and in his spot is a huddled group smoking something that doesn't smell like nicotine. He wanders back in and chats to more people, learning Jack is in a bedroom.
He opens the first door on the landing to find Jack talking to a girl he has never met before. She gets up mumbling something about personal moments. She shuts the door after herself. "I'm sorry" Alex blurts, effectively discarding the words he had been planning carefully over the past half hour.
Jack's face falters "okay, erm, why?"
"My mum said something and I just thought. I just – what the fuck?" Alex tries to reason and by some miracle Jack understands.
"What'd you think?" Jack asks, smiling because he really wants the answer to be positive. Alex shrugs. "Try again?"
By this time they're sat on the bed, next to each other. It's easy as Jack leans in and they kiss again for the second time that night. It's rough and sloppy and at least one of them has chapped lips, but it's amazing. Jack bites Alex's lip (or maybe his own) and it tastes like too strong watermelon flavouring. "Better?" More messy kissing answers Jack's question and he's pretty sure that's better than words.
They've somehow hit the duvet and just stay there. "If I fall asleep, will this feel weird when I wake up?"Asks Alex to the door, on his side with Jack positioned symmetrically at his back. Jack grabs his hand, running circles over the palm and telling him he doesn't know.
Alex's breathing is steady now and Jack's pretty sure that he's never felt this good. He wonders what brought that on. Then decides just to go with it. He doesn't mind being a drunken experiment, or, he hopes, something better. He waits out Alex's nap and neither boy says anything to the other about any developments for the rest of the night.
Jack's mum picks them up, even though they only live a couple of blocks away. She's worried about the sorts of people that wonder round at this time - 2 o'clock in the morning. You can't trust teenagers, they think they're invincible. She looks into the back and sees that her son now has his face buried in Alex's neck. Alex notices her looking and beams. Maybe, just maybe, she thinks, Jack will man up soon and say something to the boy she's watched him pine after for years.
When they get home, she goes back to bed and leaves them to it.
Jack's about to lie down in his bed when Alex calls him out "don't be a fucking pussy," he groans, holding up one side of the blanket over him on the floor. Jack snuggles down next to him and closes his eyes. He falls asleep quickly.
Alex wakes up to the fucking selfish light shining through the gap in the arrogant curtains that some knob head forgot to close. His head is pounding and he's in a foul mood. Oh god, why did he get this drunk? And then he remembers the answer to that is that he kissed his fucking best friend. He can't remember much after that. The same best friend that he is spooning right now. Oh god, morning wood and everything. Jack, don't move. Shit.
He edges backwards until he is free and runs (as fast as his hangover will allow) to the bathroom. He's pretty sure jacking off in your friend's bathroom is poor etiquette, but desperate times call for desperate measures. He slides his hand under the waistband of the boxers slung round his slim hips. And he wasn't even wearing pyjamas.
Okay, he thinks, flicking through his list of faces reserved for situations like these. But instead he decides on something different.
Jack his sucking on his neck, Jack's hand is down his pants, building up a pace along his cock. Okay that works, Alex comes to the shameful realisation, biting his lip and moaning slightly.
Jack is pulling on the short hairs at the base of his neck and sucking on his ear lobe.
Jack has got his short nails involved in the whole experience, scraping in a tingly sort of pleasurable way.
Jack is breathing heavily in his ear.
Alex has been keeping quiet this whole time and when he comes; he tries to keep that, while simultaneously hoping everybody else is asleep. He wipes up with toilet roll, flushing away and washing his hands. God, he feels dirty.
He waits until his breathing has gone back to normal before he does the walk of shame back into Jack's bedroom. The bedroom of the boy he just fantasized about while he did the dirty in the aforementioned boy's bathroom. The boy that he drunkenly kissed and then bailed on last night. The boy he is best friends with. There must be a punch line.
