Disclaimer: I own nothing except the Mac in which I wrote this on…
The Rules Of Attraction
(Just Tonight, I Will Stay)
And We'll Throw It All Away
-xx-
Monday
Haley & Jake's Apartment
"Ugh," a single groan escaped the Brooder's bruised lips as he sat up on the floor, eyes squinting in an attempt to adjust to the morning sun.
He looked around the living room, his navy-blue eyes stopping on the sleeping brunette lying next to him. Why the fuck had he let this happen? Well, because she's Brooke-fucking-Davis, that's why. But this wasn't the way it was supposed to go down. He'd been moving on…or at least trying to get her out of his head. Because he was still pissed (and hurt), and, yeah, she had apologized, but that didn't change shit.
So, he stood up, careful not to make any noise, and slipped on his boxer-briefs. Last night was such a fucking blur (and he wasn't even drunk), he couldn't exactly remember where all his clothes had ended up. He pulled out his tux's pants from under the couch and put them on.
A glance at the clock revealed it was 9 am. Fuck. He couldn't have slept more than three or four hours tops.
He settled for stealing one of Jake's wife-beaters from the clean laundry basket and threw on his tux's coat over that –it wasn't much, but it would do for the walk home.
-xx-
Monday
Phi Delta Theta House
Luke walked into the house with the full intention of rushing off the stairs, grabbing a shower, and falling into his bed for the rest of the day. Of course, as usually happened with all the best thought out plans, it didn't really work.
"Luke!" called out a voice from the kitchen, "My boy, get your ass in here, man. You was out all night gettin' some boo-tay!"
The blonde walked into the kitchen with a tired smirk, "Morning, Skills," he greeted, sitting on an empty stool, "What the hell are you doing up this early?"
"Gotta get that mornin' grub, dawg," Skills declared as he skillfully flipped the omelet into the air and caught it with the skillet. "Most important meal of the day and all that shit."
Bevin walked into the kitchen wearing one of Skills' basketball jerseys, "Baby!" she exclaimed, "You should totally be on the food network!" she sat next to Luke and grinned, "G'morning, Luke," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
Luke snickered –he always thought Bevin and Skills made a funny couple. "Morning, Bevin," he stared at her quizzically as she scavenged the duffel bag on the counter.
"Your lips are kinda bruised," The blonde pulled out a little black tube and handed it to him, "It's ChapStick. It'll help." She chirped happily.
Luke took the tube, "Thanks, Bev," he said swirling it between his fingers, "Um, I'm gonna go change. But that looks good, Skills, save me some." He added as he rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
He locked the door to his room and immediately took off the remnants of his tux. He grabbed an old pair of Nike basketball shorts and slipped them on. He stood in front of the mirror and inspected his chest –long scratches all over his pectorals, obviously made by nails digging into skin, vessels of blood had oozed on his neck forming bruises unusually large for a regular hickey, it looked like he'd come out of a fight rather than gotten laid.
The Brooder reached one of his worn out ϕ∆ t-shirts –it wouldn't cover much, but it would do.
By the time he got back down to the kitchen, Bevin was slipping on a pair of sweats and putting on a hoody over Skills' jersey. "Pick me up at eight, alright, baby?" she asked, leaning forward to kiss him goodbye. Like a habit, she pecked Luke's cheek before leaving the kitchen, "Bye, Baby! Bye, Luke!"
Skills waited until he heard the front door slam shut to turn to stare at his boy, "Da-a-a-awg!" he drawled, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt, "Shorty banged ya up good! Who was she? Anyone I know? Was it one of the Tri-Delts? 'Cause I know they into the kinky shit–"
"–dude!" Luke cut him off, "…it wasn't like that. It was…"
Skills furrowed his brow, inspecting his friend's face carefully, "Oh, fuck." He exclaimed, raising an eyebrow, "I know them marks, bro," he said, shaking his head, "That's B. Davis' handiwork, ain't it?"
The look of acknowledgement only crossed Luke's features for a second, but it was enough for Skills to pick up on it –he'd known the dude since they were in diapers. "Man, how many times are ya'll gonna go down that road?"
"No road. It was just–"
"–just one night?" cut off Skills, "It always 'just one night' with you two. Then its just sex. Then its only casual dating. When are you gonna get your shit together, dawg?"
It was a statement of a fact more than anything else –Luke and Brooke had always sworn that it was all a fun fling (even though it was clear even to the blind that it was anything but). And there were two ways this could end up: either they'd slowly but surely fall back into their friends-with-benefits arrangement, or one of them would put a stop to it before it could begin.
"My shit is together." Luke assured, not quite sure if it was to Skills or to himself, "I know we always say it's just one night, but this time it's true. I'm not going back to that."
Skills shrugged a shoulder, "Look, man, far be it for me to support the ongoing drama that is the Brucas relationship–"
"–'Brucas'?" Luke questioned with a raised eyebrow.
Skills shook his head, "Bevin, man…" he offered as an explanation then let out a resigned sigh because he loved his ditzy blonde, "Anyway, I ain't wanna support nothin' that's gonna lead to any more drama 'round here 'cause lord know we got 'nough of that goin' on, but…all I'm sayin' is: ain't no weakness in forgiveness. If ya miss her and she miss you and it's something ya both want…why not, y'know?"
"Why not…" Luke repeated absentmindedly.
This had to be the longest school year ever –possibly the best and worst he's had so far. Because they were on the way to winning the NCAA Championship title and he was team Captain…and he'd gotten to really be with Brooke Davis.
But it'd also been the year where his first serious relationship had fucking blown up in his face and he'd faced off with his brother more than normal and Brooke had fuckin' slept with him so that didn't help things at all. He wasn't sure if this was getting your heart broken or something akin to that, but if it was, it fucking sucked. There was no other way to say it.
Then again, it wasn't all for naught. He'd changed, if only a little. He'd pretty much gotten his temper down and he was definitely more calm and focused.
So…why not? Because he didn't want to throw it all away. If they went back to that it'd be a do-over of everything that had gone wrong before –it'd be too loose and they wouldn't be able to handle it and then they'd crash and burn. Before, being with Brooke made him feel like they were untamable, which wasn't always ideal for their relationship –like a hurricane colliding with a volcano.
-xx-
Monday
Jake & Haley's Apartment
Rachel used her in-case-of-emergency-only key to let herself back into her former apartment. She dropped her purse on the table near the front door and headed towards the kitchen to get herself something to drink.
"Oh, shit!" she yelped, hand on her chest, when she spotted Brooke completely naked (covered only by the way too small duvet) on the floor next to the living room couch. "Jesus…" she muttered, grabbing one of the cushions off the armchair and hurling it at the brunette's head.
Brooke sat up startled, duvet cover slipping completely down, "…the fuck…" she muttered, looking around the living room.
"Jeez," Rachel rolled her eyes, "Cover 'em up," she motioned towards her breasts, "It's not like enough people haven't seen them before." She cringed when she noticed a few bruises on the brunette's thighs, "Geez, Hulk much? How hard was the dude gripping when he left those marks?"
The brunette didn't even attempt to figure out a comeback, "I don't know where my dress is," she said instead, wrapping up the duvet around herself and standing up, "Um, is…where…I mean, is he…"
"Relax, B." Rachel sniggered, "Elvis –or whoever it was that gave you some nookie – has left the building." She picked up a white button-down shirt from the kitchen floor, "But apparently he left behind a souvenir." She shrugged, "At least it's more original than a slipper."
The brunette slipped on her underwear, and put on the shirt, "Why are you here? I thought you'd be passed out on Nate's bed." She said, attempting to change the subject.
"Oh," Rachel scrunched up her nose, "Yeah, that's not really happening. I mean, the sex is good, but he's my best friend, so that's not gonna work out. Anyway, he hooked up with Quinn James –he's bragging that he's now tapped 3-out-of-5 James' Girls– and I actually ended up going home with Clay."
Brooke didn't even bother to ask how that had happened because…well, it was Clay and Nate and Rachel, and they were in a whole other league. Besides, she was still processing how she'd woken up alone –two years and he'd never left her sleeping alone after sex, not once. "Still doesn't answer why you're here? It's, like, frigging 10am." She said, stretching her arms out over her head, "Where do they keep the coffee here now?"
They both took a second and looked around the room, taking in everything that marked it wasn't theirs anymore. Where Rachel used to keep her InStyle and Cosmopolitan magazines, there were now a bunch of back-issues of Rolling Stone. There were still pictures of them scattered around the apartment, but the pictures that were theirs had been taken away when they moved –in replacement for those, there were old pictures of Jake and Haley.
Then again, it wasn't about what was there, it was about what wasn't there –Rachel's clothes scattered throughout the living room, whatever books Brooke was reading that week strewn all across the tables, the bowl of licorice they kept on the coffee table and the take-out menus they stuffed under it.
Everything was different. (And as much as they rolled with the punches, neither girl had ever been good at handling change.)
"Um, I think it's in the top cupboard," muttered Rachel, snapping out of it as she turned on the coffee maker, "Anyway, I'm here to pick up the rest of my crap. I'm officially moving out."
"Finally taking all your stuff over to the Phi Delt house?"
The redhead sighed, "Actually, no," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears, "I'm moving into the Sigma Chi house. Alexander and the guys have been fun, but…well, it's not my place."
"So, what? You're moving in with Clay now?"
"No. Tony went off to Spain for an exchange thing, so I'm taking his room." Explained Rachel with a shrug, "It's a single so it's pretty small, but…look, there's always the couch. And I miss having you as my roommate."
Brooke was barely listening to what her best friend was saying. She kept going over last night in her head. It'd been amazing –in the same way she and Luke were always amazing– but it'd also been a moment they'd just given into. But then again, she didn't regret it because she's been missing him for a long time now. And he'd left. That'd never happened to her before. She was the one who did the leaving. So what the hell did that mean?
"Rae, um, do you have any clothes left here? Like sweats or something. I just need something to change into right now." She said, "And some shoes, too."
"Okay, well, I feel kind of ignored right now, but sure." Said Rachel, pouring herself a cup of coffee, "I think I left some of my cheer gear here –like a pair of Duke sweats and a Blue Devil t-shirt, it should be in the bottom drawer of what used to be my dresser."
"I'm gonna change. I gotta go. But I'll be back later, help you haul your shit outta here."
-xx-
Monday
Phi Delta Theta House
Brooke discovered that Luke had in fact bolted his (her) window shut, which meant she'd have to come in the old-fashioned way and use the front door. She wanted to get in and out of the house undetected to avoid answering any questions, and she made it all the way into the brooder's room unnoticed.
Luke was sprawled out on his futon, MacBook on his stomach as he typed something up. He looked up when he heard the door open and immediately shut, "What are you doing here?"
He didn't think she'd just show up.
"You left," Brooke shrugged, "I wanted to talk. About what happened –"
"What happened? You said it yourself. It was just that once." Luke replied as he sat up, closing his MacBook and setting it down on the floor. "There's nothing left to say." His tone was cold, like he was pissed off.
Brooke frowned, "Why are you mad at me? I didn't force last night on you." It was something they'd both wanted.
"I'm mad at myself, not you. This-this is not about you." he shook his head, "It's about me, and the way I am when it comes to…us. I'm mad for always being the one who has to apologize, for thinking about you and wishing for you –'cause I haven't gotten you out of my system. And, really, most of all, I'm pissed for...for not getting over you, which I know I should've done by now...but I can't."
"Look, I haven't gotten over you, either. I mean…Luke, I really miss you." she walked towards him, placed her hands on his chest, "I tried, and I thought that I could be done with us, but I'm not."
Luke shook his head, "No." he said firmly, pushing her away, "We've been trough this before. I gave you that speech months ago and you said no. I can't do this."
"We've been together and we've been apart and we've fought and kicked and screamed and we're still not over" Brooke declared, "So why can't we try again?" she walked over to him once more, her face only inches away from his, "I know I've messed up, but I miss you, Luke. I think it'd be different this time."
"That's the thing, it wouldn't be. You haven't changed. I haven't changed. Last night proved that. If we get together it'd be fun for a while –'cause having a good time, it's our specialty, but then we'd just implode again."
Brooke blinked, "God, I don't…I don't get it. You chase after me, and you refuse to let go and you just refuse to back off... And when I'm finally ready to-to be caught or whatever, you don't freaking want me anymore?"
"I can't work on your schedule, B. You slept with my brother, and…I don't know, I made it through that 'cause we still had to see each other, but I can't jump into this because you want me to. Because you think you're ready now. It does not work like that."
"You know what, Luke, you're really good with the big gestures. All the right words and all the big declarations about how much you want to be with me and how you know me. But sometimes it feels like you don't want me. Not really. 'Cause you see who I am, and you can't handle it. That's why I'm always waiting for you to turn away. I don't blame you because I'm a fucking mess –daddy issues, mommy issues, trust issues, commitment issues, you name it and I have it"
Luke frowned, "Is that what you think?"
"I think you see me and…it's not what you want. You want who I could be –the me that doesn't live in a house full of frat boys 'cause they're the closest thing to a family I've got, that's put together and dependable and grown up and…I don't know how to give you that."
"Don't. You're right. You are fucked up, but I don't care. I've never cared. Right now, in this moment, I love you. I'm saying it. I've been in love with you for a while now," Luke said, and then he sighed, "And I couldn't admit it before –I was too proud, too cocky, you weren't ready to hear it and I wasn't ready to say it. The problem is you still aren't ready. I see you balling up your fists and rocking on your heels, fighting the urge to bolt with every ounce of strength you have. So you see, I do know you and I still want you and I do not care how messed up you are. But I also gotta think about me. Because I know I can't go through this again. I can't go back to what we were before –what we were before didn't work, friends with benefits can't work for us. Can you tell me you're ready for us? Are you ready?"
Brooke managed to swallow the lump in her throat long enough to choke out, "Luke…"
The blonde walked towards her, taking her hands in his, his navy-blue eyes burning into hers, "I love you, but I can't again. Not if you're not ready. Are you?"
"I…"
"Yeah," Luke replied, his voice shaky, "Maybe last night was just one night. Look, I'd rather wait… And maybe in the future. We'll be better. But right now…I cannot do this. I can't have us falling apart again."
It was a raspy whisper, barely audible, as she looked down at her tangled hands, "Lucas…"
"I think you should go."
Brooke neared him once more, standing on her tiptoes to reach up and peck his lightly scruffy cheek. He heard her mutter a 'goodbye', and that's as dejected as he'd ever seen her and wondered just what the fuck it was about their timing that was always all wrong.
-xx-
Half an hour later, Luke was still second-guessing himself, sitting up on the kitchen island, mindlessly stirring the melting ice in his now empty glass of Absolut. Fuck it. It was almost noon anyways.
Logan walked downstairs wearing his usual sleeveless t-shirt and his worn out green Billabong board shorts hanging low on his hips. He pulled a Coke out of the fridge and grinned at him before heading back upstairs.
"Hey, Logan," called out Luke tentatively. The surfer turned around to face him, the look on his face urging him to continue. Luke sighed, "Look, man, I really can't talk to Skills about this anymore. And normally I'd talk to Jake or Hales about this, but they're gone so…"
Logan smirked, "I'm the cheap replacement, I get it," he said, sitting across from him, "Go on. Dr. Logan's in session."
"I'm just kinda messed up right now. Brooke came over. We slept together last night. She said she wanted to try to be us again. I told her no. And I also said I love her. She said I see her, but I want her to be different –more put together, less screwed up. And I do, but not the way she thinks. I don't care how messed up she is. I honestly do not. I just need her to get over whatever hang ups she has so she can be all in for us. It's the only way we're ever gonna have a chance to work."
Logan pursed his lips, "And where does my advice come in?"
"I don't know. You knew her before this, right? Am I making a mistake? Should I run over to tell her I do want us to be together?"
"Yeah, I've known B for a while. My mom was friends with her parents." Logan sighed, "Girls like Brooke Davis…commitment's not their specialty because they've never seen it work out before. It's not really a viable lifestyle choice. But she tries. You gotta see that, don't you?"
"So, you're saying go back to her?"
Logan scoffed, "Hell, no! Look, I'm not telling you to do anything –no one is, that's gotta be your choice. Everyone thinks you two are gonna get your act together sooner or later anyway."
"And what do you think, Echolls?"
"I think it was a dysfunctional relationship at it's best. You and B have the kind of relationship were you love to antagonize each other. One minute you're kissing so hard your lips are getting permanently bruised, next minute it's an all-out brawl in the gym. Almost like it thrives on conflict –like, when it's good it's great, but when it's bad it's just…sleeping-with-your-brother, dumping-her-in-public-and-calling-her-heartless, start-a-big-ass-fight awful." Logan smirked in an almost nostalgic way, "That's the best kind, you know? No one writes songs about the ones that come easy. It's epic –spanning years and continents. Lives ruined, bloodshed. Epic."
Luke stared at him curiously because this was as honest as he'd ever seen his Big Bro. He slowly let the words sink in. Years and continents. Lives ruined. Epic. Were he and Brooke –Brucas as people called them– epic?
"Look, dude, I'm not Jay –I suck at advice, but I'm awesome at buying drinks." Logan quipped, breaking the seriousness of the moment, "And I find that after a few beers at Al's, life doesn't seem so complicated anymore. We're only in college, right?"
Luke sighed, "You're buying?"
"Always."
-xx-
Monday
Al's Backyard
Logan made good on his promise and opened up a tab. A few pitchers of beer and fooling around at the dartboard with the guys made things feel normal again. Luke decided to go get himself another drink since little Matty Saracen continued to kick everyone's ass at darts.
"Hey, Al," called out Luke, tapping the oak bar, "Lemme get another pitcher."
"Well, look who's here," greeted Clay Evans next to him, "'Sup, Caveman?"
Luke flashed him a warning glare, "Seriously not in the mood, Evans. Back off."
"C'mon!" Clay prompted with his most appealing grin, "After all that bonding when we were planning Jay's bachelor party? I mean, I'm not saying let's be BFFs, stay up all night and braid each other's hair here, but I figured at least we could be civil over a beer." He sighed at the brooder's adamant expression, "I really don't get why you don't like me."
Luke scoffed, "Ah, let's see…you're screwing my baby sister, you're annoying as hell, you were nothing but a pain in my ass the entire time I was dating Brooke, we've gotten into more fistfights than I can count, you're my brother's best friend and he's still not doing too good in my book, the list goes on and on."
"Okay, well, first, I am not screwing your baby sister. I hooked up with her –past tense– we're just buds now. And granted, you're not my first choice for my best friend's boyfriend, but I'm kind of rooting for you now. As for Nate…he's my boy, man, what do ya want me to do? Everyone needs someone in their corner –you got Hales, Jake, Skills, Echolls and the rest of the Phis. Nate's got Rae, O, Dean, the rest of the Sigs and me, just the way of life. 'Sides, he's your brother –and yeah, he pulled the mother of all douche moves, but…he's your brother. Sibling relationships are meant to resurface above all the crap that would sink any regular friendship, so maybe it's time you two came to each other's corners." Clay took a pull from his Corona and shrugged, "Can't do much 'bout the fighting 'cause those punches have already been swung, but I have been told I get less annoying once you get to know me."
"Why the fuck are you trying to be my friend right now?"
Clay shrugged, "'Cause you're good for Dimples. Who'd have thunk it?" he said matter-of-factly, "'Sides, Freckles seems to think you have some redeeming qualities…and I trust Rachel." Luke only offered him the same stoic, unyielding stare, "And I can tell they miss you –Nate and B, I mean." He added, dropping a few twenties on the bar, "That's all. And I gotta jet. Class. See ya around, man."
Luke shook his head, grabbing the pitcher and heading back over to the table. The fuck was going on with everyone today? Seriously.
-xx-
The rest of the hours flew by quickly enough, by seven the bar had filled up by students coming out of their late classes. Nate walked in with Dean, James and few other guys from the football team.
Rachel was the next one in, arms linked with Tim and Owen, who had an arm wrapped around Lindsay James' shoulder. Then came the rest of the cheer squad, including Bevin and Skills.
The band had begun playing, music blaring just as happy hour started. Rachel was just about ready to get up on a table when Owen pulled her down, "One of these days, I'm gonna get tired of babysitting you and lil' B," he said as he took the half-empty hurricane glass out of her hands, "Speaking of, where is your better half?"
"Don't know…she stole a pair of sweats this morning and disappeared. Don't know where she's crashing, but she didn't go back to Jaley's place." Rachel shrugged, "I think she's crashing with the XO's this weekend. You should ask Rebecca Logan if you're looking for her." she said, "And now my buzz is officially killed. I'm gonna go get some water." She headed off towards the bar.
The redhead tapped the bar and called out for a bottle of water. "Her drink's on me, Al." called out Luke, taking the stool next to hers. Rachel smirked, tilting her Dasani bottle slightly before taking a gulp, "Cheers, Scott,"
Luke grinned, "Water? You feeling alright, Rachel?"
"Trying to create healthier habits," dismissed the redhead, staring at the collar of his shirt. Finally, she grabbed it and pulled it down, revealing the bruises on his neck, "Oh, no fucking way!" she exclaimed, "You are B's living-room-floor hook-up? No wonder she ran out on me like her hair was on fire." Brooke sure a hell didn't want to be probed by Rachel. The redhead never played fair.
The brooder adjusted the collar of his shirt and sighed, "Try to keep it to yourself, Rach. I'm serious."
"And when did we cross over into the asking-me-for-favors, calling-me-'Rach' territory in this relationship?"
Luke flashed her an endearing smirk, "I'm hoping since right now."
Rachel quirked an eyebrow, "And suddenly the twin-vibe isn't so absent between you and Nate. Nice to see the infamous Scott Smirk is a shared trait." She laughed, "It's cool, Scott. It stays between us. I gotta ask, though…you sure you know what you're doing?"
Luke licked his lips… "No idea." he shrugged, "I'm just working off instinct here. I don't know. I'm trying to…do the right thing, I guess."
"The right thing…" repeated Rachel, "That's a bitch, isn't it?"
Just a cigarette gone
No, you couldn't be that far
I'm driving my to where I hope you are
Maybe I can talk you down
Maybe I can talk you down
We're standing on a tiny ledge
Before this goes over the edge
Gonna use my heart and not my head
And try to open up your eyes
This Is Relationship Suicide.
Just then, Brooke walked in with Beth and Delilah plus a few other girls from the squad.
Luke glanced at her quickly, took a pull from his corona and sighed, "Relationship suicide…" he muttered, "I'm gonna head back to my crowd."
"B. Davis!" called out the redhead as she waved her friend over.
Brooke grabbed the stool that Luke had previously occupied. "Hey, Rae," she greeted, ordering herself a beer, "What's up?"
"Nothin' much. Where've you been all day?"
The brunette shrugged a shoulder, "Around. I went for a run and, um, I grabbed the rest of my stuff out of the XO house 'cause my time on their couch expired."
"And nothing else happened?"
Even despite her steel poker face, Brooke had a few tells. They were hard to pick up, but Rachel knew them all. And right now, Brooke was doing that thing where she tucked her hair behind her ears and licked her lips anxiously. "Nope. Pretty average day."
Bullshit.
Rachel nodded, more to herself than to her brunette friend, "Right. Um, I gonna head home now. Take it easy tonight, B. Remember, we're reworking the routines tomorrow since Hales won't be here for the next game."
"Yes, I know." Brooke flashed her a smile, "I'm the one who scheduled the practice."
The redhead pecked her cheek and waved goodbye, "See ya tomorrow, B."
Brooke grabbed her beer and headed towards the pool tables in the back. Alexander was already there (the blonde Aussie seemed to be the only one who gave her any competition), and he waved her over.
She spotted Luke a few tables over and immediately looked away. If it was at all possible, she felt more uncomfortable than before.
I love you…I'd rather wait…maybe in the future.
Alexander nudged her shoulder, "You alright, Boss?" he asked with a friendly smile.
Brooke nodded a little too enthusiastically, "Yeah," she said, "Just…thinking 'bout the future."
