Warning; alternate universe, supernatural, teen! Arthur, one-sided Arthur/Cobb, Cobb/Mal, OC/Arthur, homophobia, a bit of gory-news?
Disclaimer; fufufu, nope ~
Author's Notes; I could have sworn someone requested for Lorenzo and Houston to be written with Arthur more, but I can't find that review. Anyways, here's the chapter involving that. Enjoy? 8D Oh and also, I have a new fic up! The Exception of Everything, it's like ... completely different from this one. ; w;
Okay. So, nothing happened.
It shouldn't be anything big. It just meant that Mal's theory was incorrect.
There must be some other way out.
It would be easier if they found Nash and dragged that man back to get Eames out of the mirror. Least Arthur knew, though, the other could be half way around the world or dead. For now, Eames just needed to deal with it, and Arthur, well, he would have to deal with it as well.
Getting the Englishman out of the mirror wasn't his main concern; he just wanted to forget Dom and his relationship with Mal. He wanted to forget to a point in which he fell for Eames' words and kissed the mirror. He kissed a goddamn mirror. If he wasn't desperate before, then this was definitely showed desperation.
He groaned softly and leaned against the bed.
Eames was still gone, and Arthur was still feeling as horrible as before. He didn't dare cry, though. Sure, a tear or two escaped him, but he disallowed more. He let out a few breaths in attempt to calm himself, but it didn't work for more than the given second. His thoughts turned back to Dom, to Mal, and to everything else.
How did this happen?
It all started with moving here. It started with meeting Ariadne, who brought him to the table. It started with Lorenzo and Houston's playful teasing. It started with the bullying. It started with his small boy crush on Dom. It started with Eames being there, and using him— yes, he had came to terms that the Englishman was using him.
Eames was desperate to get out. He forced his feelings and emotions towards Arthur, and this was how it worked out. The fairy tale was simply a theory and nothing else. It couldn't be proven true until it actually happened. And after the kiss, after both parties realized that nothing had changed, Eames had ran away, and since Arthur had caught that action and interpreted it, he now knew why Mal's theory didn't work. Obviously, Eames was only saying things, and like before, forcing himself to feel one way. That thought contradicted the one before— it was possible that Mal's ideas could work.
Arthur leaned against the bed, the side pressing into his hip. He exhaled slow breaths, but again, they didn't work past the given moment. His eyes traveled to the mirror.
It was his reflection. Eames wasn't there. Eames didn't care. All the other had cared about was getting out. It was pretty selfish, in Arthur's eyes; he thought it was only fair to let the other man suffer. Because, what if Arthur did fall in love with him? And Eames turned out to be toying with him, using him until he was free? Then Arthur would be left to gather the pieces of his broken heart, of course. He could only be glad that he wasn't stupid enough to fall for the Englishman, but he was still stupid for looking into Dom when the blond showed no signs of romantic interests.
But why was he worried and hurt over something like this?
He asked himself the same question various of times, but the answer was still the same; he didn't know why. He blamed his heart and mind for taking him places, and it brought him here in regret and despair. How worse can it get than this? He couldn't see anything worse happening unless someone he cared about was dying or extremely ill. But what were the chances of that happening?
He ran his fingers through his hair and tore his eyes away from the mirror. He had homework to do, and he was going to do it, pass the test, and get on with life. He was not going to get weighed down because of these things. He simply would not allow himself to be weighed down. He was going to pull through this, even if it meant pulling through it alone.
His attention didn't linger on his work for long.
Chocolate brown eyes, ever so casually, would turn to the right to see if Eames had returned, and every time, all he saw was himself.
Eames was obviously not coming back anytime soon; why should he been anticipating it, then? It's not like he actually had something to say to the other. In fact, he rather be left alone. If that was the case, why was he waiting for the Englishman to appear? Arthur didn't think that the presence of the Britishman affected him in any way. Or at least, it shouldn't. So, why wasn't he doing his homework and looking intently at the mirror instead? He knew he was waiting for Eames to appear, but for what reason he didn't know of.
On the other hand, he wondered if it was possible for Eames to watch him now, even though he wasn't in front of the mirror. It could be possible, and Arthur didn't want to be caught staring. But he knew it was much too late to not be caught staring, yet, nevertheless, he forced his gaze away.
He tried concentrating on reading the chapter that was assigned to him. It still didn't work. His mind was scattered and not allowing him to focus on what was important. A frustrated sigh came from him.
Shoving his books aside, Arthur laid back on the mattress, his eyes cast upon the ceiling. He attempted to push away everything that was on his mind, but it was hard to. Just like before, the more he tried to ignore it, the more it was there.
He needed a distraction.
Where could he find distraction, though? He didn't want to talk to anyone. There was basically nothing on the Internet, or the TV for that matter. He wasn't hungry. And he couldn't complete this homework.
But sleep sounded nice. Yet, how could he sleep with nearly a million things running through his head? He couldn't.
Continuously frustrated, Arthur heaved himself up to a sitting position. Though he avoided his wandering eyes towards the right of him, he couldn't ignore the feeling of something within him.
It was another one of the unknown emotions, where he was confused— mixed emotions. Jealousy, anger, desperation— those were not his usual feelings. Unless someone received an award for something he deserved, or if they made a better grade than him, then that would be jealousy. He would be angry if people continued to tick him off. He would be desperate to get rid of how bored he was, but all those were a different sort of feeling. They were more common to him, but the new ones— they felt foreign, even though they were the same.
Arthur fell back on the mattress, this time curling into a ball. His eyes closed and he tried, once more, to remove the excessive amount of thoughts in his head. It was impossible, though with silence and nothing else to distract him— there was always music, but he was sure even music wouldn't be able to distract him.
He huffed out a breath and rolled onto his stomach. The mattress his now pressed against his cheek, making the position rather uncomfortable, but he didn't proceed to move. He simply laid there, staring at the mirror again, wondering how the hell did he get himself into this sort of mess.
— ox — xo —
Arthur really did not want go to school. He wouldn't be able to face Dom and Mal, nevertheless, any of the others. He even stayed in his bed until his father came ambling down the hallway and knocked on his door, shouting for him to wake up. So, with no choice, he moved towards the bathroom.
He dressed and got ready at a snail-like pace, which resulted at him going the exact speed limit and probably a bit faster.
As he arrived at school, he leaned back against the seat, head tilted back, eyes closed. He wanted nothing more than to skip, but what good that make of him? He needed to face it, else, he would never learn to accept it.
Holding that on his mind, Arthur unbuckled himself from the seat and opened the door. As he stepped out and locked his vehicle, he glanced around. Students were still gathered outside, which meant he had more than five minutes to spare.
Shifting the backpack on his one shoulder, he made his way towards the school. It took him less than a minute to travel to his locker and remove his needed books, but when he closed said locker, he was greeted by Houston.
"We need to talk."
Arthur knew immediately from those words and the sound of Houston's tone that this 'talk' meant trouble. Trouble was the last thing he needed.
Nevertheless, he quirked a brow. "Shoot."
Houston glanced around for a mere moment before taking his wrist.
Arthur jerked it away. "The bell's about to ring."
Houston shoved his hands into his pockets, cheeks a bit flushed.
He glanced away. "We can talk later. After lunch, yeah?"
"Sure."
Houston gave him a curt nod before scurrying away.
— ox — xo —
Lunch was interesting, Arthur could say at the very most. He was forced to fake a few smiles, but other that, Mal and Dom showed no sort of couple-like actions, which Arthur was happy about. His 'happiness' disappeared as lunch ended, and Houston beckoned him towards the boys' bathroom.
He was a bit nervous upon entrance, but once the subject was presented, he felt a bit better.
"The thing between you and Ariadne ..." Houston started, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. "Are you two ... ?"
He gestured at the air.
Arthur almost laughed. Almost, but he kept it back and shook his head. "We're friends."
Houston, for once, frowned. "She seems interested in you."
"Are you interested in her?"
Arthur knew this sort of interaction from a few books he had read.
"Are you gay?" Houston blurted out.
This was steering in a different direction.
Arthur opened his mouth to retort a no, but he fell silent.
He clamped his mouth shut.
"Answer my question first," Arthur said moments later.
Houston gave him a stiff look before sighing. His arms uncrossed from his chest. "Yeah, I do. She doesn't look at me often, though. And she took an immediate interest to you."
That, she did.
"So. Are you gay?" Houston repeated.
Arthur pursed his lips slightly. "I ... prefer intelligent people."
Houston broke into a soft grin, drawing close. "That doesn't answer the question."
"And what does?" the young brunet shot back.
"It's a yes or no question."
"Perhaps is not an answer?"
"So you are."
"I—"
"I know someone's who's interested in you," Houston said cheerfully, beaming as he placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder and steered him towards the entrance of the bathroom. "I'll deliver this news to him. He'll meet you on the way out."
— ox — xo —
This person that Houston claimed to like him was apparently Lorenzo.
At first, Arthur thought it was a joke. Even Ariadne, who he told about the last bit of the exchange between him and Houston (he kept Houston's liking towards the petite female a secret, though), thought it was humorous.
But Lorenzo was actually serious, or at least he seemed serious. When Ariadne waved good bye to them, leaving them alone, Lorenzo turned to him, a smile playing on his lips. "So, a little birdie told me that you have a male preference." The other male nudged him against his own car door as he leaned close.
Arthur felt uncomfortable in this pinned position, but when he tried to shove Lorenzo away, the male grabbed both of his wrists.
"How about it, Artie? My place or yours?"
"How about," Arthur started, shifting slightly, "you return my personal space to me and be on your way to your own place?"
Lorenzo laughed and let go. "You're cute. I like you. But in all seriousness, your place or mine?"
Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I will go to my place and you will go to yours."
"Oh, come on, babe. You know you want this." Lorenzo leaned towards him again, but Arthur shoved him aside.
"I have homework to tend to."
"It'll be a one time thing."
And here, Arthur was actually considering it. Though nothing bothered him that much today, he still wanted to forget the incident between Mal and Dom. Eames had offered a chance to forget, but how did that turn out? He ended up kissing a mirror, and Eames then decided to run. But was he this desperate to forget?
"How far do you live from here?"
"Twenty minutes or so."
"My place's closer."
He was definitely desperate.
Lorenzo flashed him another grin. "I'll follow you, alright?"
"Alright."
As the other moved away, Arthur scrambled into his car, started the engine, and backed out. His mind reeled as he pulled out of the parking lot. He aimed to drive away quickly so that Lorenzo couldn't follow, but the desperation crossed his mind again, and he slowed enough to stop at a red light.
His eyes skimmed the rear view mirror, and catching sight of another student driver, he glanced away and fixed his attention of fastening his seat belt. When the light turned green the moment he peered up, he stepped lightly on the gas pedal and continued to drive down the road. As he turned to his neighborhood street, he caught sight of a slick black truck, and from the looks of it, Lorenzo was the driver.
His heart jumped to his throat. He was basically getting himself into sexual intercourse— something he didn't want until his was married, but at the same time, he yearned to feel wanted.
With a calming sigh, Arthur pulled in front of his house, turned off the engine, and got out. After locking the doors, he turned to see Lorenzo park beside him and get out.
The light brunet was beaming as he approached him. "Your parents home?"
Arthur glanced at the driveway. His parent's car wasn't there.
"I don't think so. They wouldn't pester, though."
Gesturing his classmate towards the entrance, Arthur fished out his keys and unlocked the house. The moment he stepped in, he heard the light buzz of the television. His mother was home.
"I brought a friend," he announced, shutting and locking the door after Lorenzo got in and toed off his shoes like Arthur.
His mother sat up and peered at them. "Oh, wonderful. Would you two like anything to eat?"
"I'm fine."
"I recently ate, but thanks."
She smiled. "It's good to see Arthur's making friends."
Arthur almost choked on air, gaining a look from Lorenzo, but the light brunet ignored it and nodded once at the woman.
"Of course. Your son's quite a looker."
When the questionable expression crossed his mother's face, Arthur took that moment to start up the stairs. "We'll be upstairs," he said, giving Lorenzo an intent look.
Still grinning, the other student tailed him up the stairs and into his bedroom. There, Arthur set his bag down while Lorenzo took the pleasure in closing and securing the lock on the door.
His eyes then met the hazel ones. His heart was beating much faster now. He had a chance to stop this. He could stop it right now. He could— but he couldn't.
Lorenzo stepped over, grabbed his chin, and kissed him.
Arthur was taken with shock for a few seconds, but after noting that Lorenzo's eyes were closed and his lips were moving against his, he gave in.
His eyes closed and he kissed back. It was not slow like those seen on romantic movies. Instead, it was fast, needy, hot, and Arthur liked it. He kissed back eight much eagerness, his arms wrapping around Lorenzo's body, pulling the man close. He felt a tongue beginning to prod his lips, and without hesitation, he parted his lips. The tongue slipped in, brushing against his own, sending shivers of delight down Arthur's spine. And he decided, at this moment, that this was his actual first kiss, and so far, he wasn't regretting it, even though Lorenzo was now backing him towards the bed.
When he hit the soft mattress, the kiss was broken for the briefest moment. Lorenzo lifted him onto his bed before climbing on top of him. The lips belonging to his classmate ran down his throat, tongue flickering over his adam's apple. Rushed, needy hands traveled downward, cupping him through his slacks.
Arthur's breath hitched, and his sights go blank for a moment. He's not supposed to be in this position. He wasn't supposed to be touched there. But it felt nice. Fuck.
The lips descended on his own once more as Lorenzo's fingers danced over the waistline of his pants. When no restrictions were made, they dipped inside. Arthur immediately panicked as he was touched.
Breaking the kiss, he pushed the one on top of him away.
"I can't do this," he whispered, sitting up and bringing his knees to his chest.
"We can just make out, if you want. No touching below the waist?"
Arthur bit his lip and peered up at his classmate. And then he, surprising himself, nodded.
Lorenzo leaned over once more, and he leaned forward to capture the lips.
This kiss was slower, but it still had the same intensity. Lorenzo lightly pressed him back against the mattress, lips moving in sync with his own. Arthur trailed his hands up to the soft hair and strung his fingers through it. As their lower halves met, a groan emitted from both parties.
That's when it was heard: "Bloody hell."
Before Arthur could rip away from the mouth, Lorenzo was already off him. His classmate glanced around, looking startled.
"Was that your dad?"
And Eames, that bastard, snorted. "Far from that."
Eames met Arthur's gaze, and Arthur could see the bitter anger on the Englishman's face.
He ignored it and turned to Lorenzo. "It's probably the TV—"
"I'm nothing like a TV."
Lorenzo slid off the bed and paced towards the mirror, bewildered. "I swear it's coming from here."
"That's because it is. Arthur, why don't you inform our guest—"
"Shut up, Eames," Arthur scowled, sliding off the bed and grabbing Lorenzo's arm. "Couldn't give us privacy for a few minutes, can you?"
Not waiting for the answer, Arthur towed his classmate out of the bedroom. Once the door closed behind him, blocking him from his room, Arthur turned to the opposing student. "I apologize for—"
"What the hell was that? Where did you get it?"
The dark brunet sighed. "It was here before. If you excuse me ... that means leave, Lorenzo."
Lorenzo gazed at him for a few more seconds before placing a chaste kiss on his lips. "Alright. Next time."
Casting him a smile, he made his way across the hall and down the stairs.
After hearing his mother's farewell and the door close, Arthur entered his bedroom once more. Making sure his own door was closed, he proceeded to the mirror where Eames was still looking furious.
"Have you heard of privacy?" he questioned, crossing his arms across his chest.
"Have you heard of human feelings?" Eames snapped back. "Obviously not."
Arthur's face turned dark. He scowled. "I needed something—"
"I'm not enough for you?"
"You're in a mirror," Arthur stated bluntly.
"But I'm human. I ... fuck. I hate you."
"The feeling is entirely mutual."
Eames' eyes narrowed. "I helped you through your troubles."
"You used me."
A flicker of surprise crossed the man's face.
Arthur scoffed and seated himself on the edge of his bed. "Don't pretend to be surprised. You knew you did. You're toying with my emotions and yours as well."
Eames opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a while.
A good moment or two later, he began again. "Is he someone you met today?"
"He is none of your business."
"His hands were down your pants."
"And I pushed him away."
"That could have been my hand. My mouth. My touches."
Arthur rolled his eyes.
Eames seemed to ignore it and continued. "It could have been me."
"But it wasn't."
"You're a heartless bastard. I hope that makes sense to you, Arthur. You're becoming how I was before."
"Do not," hissed the younger of the two, "compare me to yourself. We're nothing alike."
"Do you prefer 'slut', then?"
The moment he heard these words, disbelief crossed him.
How dare he—
Stepping onto the floor, Arthur walked over to his desk, emptied his metal pencil holder, and hurled it at the mirror. Tears threatened his eyes he he watched it break one side of the mirror. Eames, on the other hand, gasped, and from the looks of the expression, from pain.
But Arthur could really care less. Not that he was given the time to care anyways. Hearing the footsteps of his mother ushering up the stairs, he quickly conjured an excuse to use. None came by time his mother knocked on his door, asking if he was alright. Not even bothering to throw Eames a look, the dark brunet proceeded to open the door.
His mother peered in, panic written across her face. "What happened?"
He didn't have a good excuse made up, so he decided the truth was fair enough. "I threw my pencil holder at the mirror."
He knew she was tempted to ask why, but instead, she asked a different question. "Did you two break up?"
At first, Arthur thought she meant Eames, and his heart nearly stopped, but after recollecting the fact that Lorenzo was once here, he turned away.
"I'm not gay, mother. He was just here, and I'm just stressed. He left because I was stressed."
There was a sudden sound of wheezing from Eames' direction, but it seemed to go unheard by his mother, thankfully.
"Oh ... I always drive around to get rid of the stress. Or talk to someone I can trust. It helps."
Arthur could have sworn that she looked hopeful, but he didn't want to stick around here.
"I'll just take a ride," he murmured, grabbing his car keys. After shooting a look in the mirror's direction and seeing nothing but his reflection, he made his way out of the bedroom and out of the house.
The ride around the town was loud. He turned the radio on and had it at a level that was deafening, but it still didn't clear his head.
He couldn't believe it.
Eames turned back into an ass, and now, Lorenzo was probably curious about his mirror.
Arthur shouldn't have brought his classmate home. It would have been better if they went to his place. That way, this mess wouldn't unfold, but he didn't do that. Therefore, he suffered the consequences.
The bright side of things was that, at the very least, Lorenzo didn't think he was insane. But Eames had called him something unspeakable. He definitely was not— there was a difference between needing and wanting. He wanted to kiss Dom, but he needed Lorenzo's kiss, since Eames' didn't satisfy him.
It didn't mean that he was giving himself— did it? Arthur hoped not.
Holding such a title, even though it was in one's eyes, was still bad for his image. He didn't want that.
Besides, Lorenzo and his thing was simply a one time thing. He wasn't going to get into any more trouble. Especially not with Eames, because the Englishman didn't even deserve his attention. Before, yes, he was helpful, but now, after Eames discovered that the kiss didn't work, he became an angry character.
Or maybe Eames was jealous; that would explain a part in their argument. But what was Eames jealous of? Surely, he didn't really like him as he claimed?
No.
Arthur had to remind himself that Eames used him, that these feelings weren't real, and he refused any other thought to contradict that idea. He kept that idea, then shoved the thought of Eames aside.
Lorenzo took up his mind next.
At first, he thoroughly enjoyed the touches and kisses, but now, he felt tainted. He had been touched inappropriately. He had been kissed. He just made out with someone. And Eames was watching him perform these actions. That itself was truly embarrassing.
But he couldn't deny it. The kisses and touches felt amazing. They also made him forget about Dom temporarily. It was just the distraction he needed.
Yet, it was just a one time thing. This made Arthur shift slightly. He liked the actions performed, but he didn't really like Lorenzo. He was a fair companion and a humorous person, but he doubted that any sort of relationship could root from what they had.
What about the classic 'friends with benefits'? That sounded as if he was some sort of ... well, exactly what Eames called him from earlier, and he didn't want to live up to such word. So, 'friends with benefits' was definitely out.
He just needed to abstain. He was sure to let this, Dom's case, and all the other shit with Eames go. He would move on with life and not think about this. He would complete school, find a suitable job, then find someone. That was saved for later. For now, he needed to get back to the house before his mother started panicking, thinking that he got mugged or kidnapped.
As he stepped into the house again, he's greeted with a question.
"Are you okay?"
It reminded him of Eames, but he waved the thought aside.
"I'm fine," he answered before making his way up to his bedroom.
He found himself holding his breath as he he entered, as if expecting some sort of invisible force to attack him, but none did. He ventured inward, aware of the mirror that was broken slightly on the side. His pencil holder was back on his desk with the respective writing utensils within. He had to thank his mother for collecting them, but not now. He had homework to do and Eames to ignore.
Homework was easily finished, since the Englishman didn't bother to make a presence. However, it did make him curious. He peered at the mirror, noting the crack.
Well, there wasn't a point in the mirror now. He might as well covered it up, but he didn't want to draw near said mirror. What if Eames suddenly reached out and dragged him in?
No. That was impossible.
He was becoming insane if that is his paranoia.
Waving it off, he slid off the bed and took his turns with showering, eating dinner, and reviewing for a test. By his usual sleeping time, he was tucked within the covers. Somewhat instinctively, he turned towards the mirror. This time, he frowned lightly.
He could have sworn that the crack was an inch or two smaller than how it was now, but he could simply be imagining things.
Shrugging the thought aside, he dragged his sights away from said mirror and closed his eyes.
He began to think about his situation again, but this time, he fell asleep to it.
— ox — xo —
The next day, at school, the first person that talked to him was Lorenzo. This was because the other had nicely waited for him. When Arthur stepped out of his car, Lorenzo paced over and kissed him. Of course, Arthur was taken by sheer surprise again. He didn't respond to the kiss, but he did shove the other away.
"We're in public," he murmured, closing and locking his car door.
Lorenzo laughed and took his hand. "Let them stare. I don't give a fuck." He tried to kiss him again, but Arthur drew away and dragged his hand from the other's.
"It was a one time thing," he stated before turning on his path towards the school.
Lorenzo caught up with him quickly. "Well, if that's the case, how about a date?"
Tempting, but, "no thanks. I'm usually busy."
"Even Saturday?"
"You have a game this Saturday." He knew because Dom had mentioned it earlier.
"I can miss a game for you," Lorenzo pressed, leaning against the locket as Arthur unlocked his own.
"No, thanks," he repeated.
"Then, how about another session? My place? Yours?"
"It was a one time thing," Arthur repeated irritably.
Lorenzo chuckled. "You liked it, right? I enjoyed it. And I want to do it again."
The dark brunet closed his locker, locking it.
Lorenzo loomed closer. "Okay, how about this. Just give me a call if you need a stress reliever or something. Here—" Fishing a pen out of his backpack, his classmate opened one of Arthur's notebooks that laid on top and scribbled down his number. With a grin, Lorenzo closed the notebook after wards. "Call or text, alright, babe?" He pecked him on the lips goodbye before ushering away.
Flustered and still embarrassed, Arthur quickly ushered to his first period.
Ariadne greeted him with a smile before rambling away. Though, she only had a few seconds to talk since the bell rung quickly after he took his seat.
The first few periods went by smoothly. Gym, however, wasn't the most pleasant class. Math wasn't either. After all, even though Dom was talking to him, Arthur still felt unneeded and cast aside. He had, after all, kissed a man who was in a relationship with one of his companions.
But now wasn't a time to worry about those matters.
Though his heart still throbs for the blond athlete, he was nearly positive that he was almost over him, thanks to Lorenzo and Eames (Eames, because of the trouble he was causing and whatnot). That provided much distraction, just not the sort he wanted. Though, the Englishman was probably not going to talk to him anymore after he threw that pencil holder. If he did, they would probably end up in an argument, like before. Lorenzo, on the other hand, was a rather fair distraction. Arthur wouldn't mind if they had another session, but he didn't want to be obliged to do so. He needed to keep away from those relationships for now.
Unfortunately, it was nearly impossible with Lorenzo lingering around. At lunch, he snagged a seat next to him, and for once, Houston sat on Ariadne's side. This, of course, brought confusion to Dom's and Ariadne's faces. Mal and Lorenzo seemed well aware as Arthur about the reason why.
Nevertheless, his attention didn't linger for long on the pair. Instead, he busied himself trying to avoid Lorenzo's under the table touches.
When Lorenzo had seated himself next to him, he had snaked an arm around his waist. This caused Arthur to squirm and pick the arm off, receiving a quirk of brow from Mal.
The next movement came after he finished his salad. Lorenzo placed a hand on his knee, massaging it lightly before trailing up slowly. Instinctively, Arthur pushed the hand off.
The third and final touch came when lunch ended. Lorenzo's hand fell into his lap and groped him. His reaction was like no other. Arthur yelped and jerked away before delivering a punch. His punch didn't land, though, but he couldn't care less. Flushing, he stood up, grabbed his trash, and made an hasty exit.
He wanted to shut himself in the bathroom stall forever, but the moment he heard Lorenzo's voice, he wanted nothing more than to run.
"Artie? Arthur? Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Forgive me?"
Arthur leaned against the stall door, drawing out slow breaths.
"I won't do it again unless you want me to. Seriously, I won't. Come on, Art. Don't ignore me. I know you're there."
He felt knocking on his stall door. When he refused to open it, Arthur found himself soon glaring up at the other male who had propped himself up on the stall next door.
"I promise," Lorenzo continued, a small smile tinting his lips.
Arthur had the choice to leave and ignore the other, but he chose the other option.
"Don't do it again," he replied coldly.
"Unless you want me to."
"I don't."
"If you insist."
Lorenzo then heaved himself over, dropping down in front of Arthur. And here, in this little space the small stall provided, it was getting heated and fast.
Arthur backed against the door again, his hand on the lock, but much to his misfortune, the door opened inward, so he was trapped.
Lorenzo took a step closer, running his fingers down Arthur's neck. Hazel eyes flickered down towards his mouth. And before he knew it, their lips were connected again. Arthur's hands grabbed his classmate's shoulders so that he could push the other away, but his hands were weakened as Lorenzo pressed into him, deepening the kiss. Delicate digits thumbed through Arthur's hair, brushing lightly against his ear before trailing to his neck. The hands Arthur had on the shoulders ended up sliding down Lorenzo's back, bringing their bodies closer to each other.
Their session ended, though, when the bell rung.
Arthur shoved Lorenzo back a bit. "Shit," he murmured, quickly tidying himself before turning towards the door.
As his hand fell on the lock to unlock it, he felt arms wrapping around his body.
"How about a cup of coffee after the game?"
Arthur broke free and opened the door slightly. Without word, Lorenzo backed up so that the door could be opened. After exiting, Arthur turned back to the other man.
"Get to class."
Lorenzo barked with laughter as he dismissed himself from the stall. "Right, right. So. Ari's at six, alright?" Not waiting for a refusal, he waved and left.
Arthur was fumbling throughout the rest of the school periods. Though Ariadne tried to strike up another conversation with him, he did his best to ignore it. He knew he was being rather rude again, but couldn't Ariadne tell that he needed room? Apparently not.
She walked him to his car, eyed Lorenzo who lingered by with Houston, before breaking off and being escorted by Houston towards her car. This, of course, left Arthur with Lorenzo, and at the moment, he didn't want to speak with the other. He nudged the man aside so he could unlock his car. When he got in and proceeded to close the door, the opposing male stopped it.
"Do I get a goodbye kiss?"
Arthur stared at the man with his 'are you fucking kidding me?' face, but Lorenzo didn't go affected. He swooped down and pecked the corner of Arthur's mouth before drawing away and fleeing as if Arthur was going to transform into a monster and eat him alive.
Truthfully, he didn't mind that as much. If Lorenzo were to touch him again, Arthur would bite him. He wasn't tolerating the unplanned and not okayed kisses anymore— even if it made his heart sore for a moment, but that was a different story.
Driving his way home, he listened to the person on the radio jabber endlessly about a murderer in New York City. It wasn't anything new, but it was interesting how the victims were killed. After all, most simply killed and ran away, but this murderer, according to the person talking, tortured his victims, cut part of them up into small pieces, blended them, and added the mixture to the stream nearby.
It disgusted Arthur, and he was glad that this man was finally caught.
Luckily, he parked his car and turned off the engine before any more news could be told to him.
On his way in, he heard his parents' voice. They were coming from the bedroom, and by the sound of it, it wasn't good. His father was yelling.
Arthur didn't want to stick around, but he couldn't help but tune in.
"—will not tolerate such nonsense in this house!"
"He's his own person."
"You do not understand— you wanted grandchildren, no?"
Ah, so they were talking about him and obviously, his mother had ratted him out about his small admitted crush for Dom and bringing Lorenzo home yesterday.
He frowned and proceeded up the stairs. As he reached the top step, his father bustled out of the master bedroom and glared at him.
"Living room, now."
Arthur hesitated, but after receiving a heated glare from his father, he returned back downstairs.
Once on the couch, Arthur suddenly became nervous.
It was rare to see his father this angry at him. His mother probably took the honor in spicing him up with fiery before. He threw his mother a look at the thought of that. She didn't meet his gaze. She didn't talk or say furthermore, either.
His father paced up to where he sat and glared down on him.
Arthur tensed.
"I hear that you have a fancy in boys."
His mother did rat him out. Dammit.
He let out a breathe before replying. "I have no intentions of—"
Before he could finish, he felt a stinging pain on his cheek right after the sound of his father's hand against his face.
"You disgust me. Those of your sort should be banished. This is a sin you are committing."
"I haven't done anything—"
Another slap, but this time, Arthur allowed it to sting. He had just lied to his father. That slap was deserved, but the first one wasn't.
He bit his bottom lip and forced back the tears of shame.
"You will change. Do you understand? I will not hesitate to disown you if I find that you are off with a man, committing sin."
Arthur nodded, understanding. He didn't trust his voice, and he didn't want to receive another slap in the face.
He stood, continued to ignore the glare, and ushered to his bedroom where he continued to close and lock the door. There, he took in painful breaths. Though he didn't cry, the pain of his father's disapproval was stabbing at him, especially at his cheek.
He touched the side of his face. It was warm.
Keeping the hand on, he proceeded towards the bathroom. After washing his face various of times, then deciding on a shower, Arthur busied himself for the next hour.
As he allowed the water to pour overhead, he mind searched for an answer. How could he make his father happy? Obviously, he had to impress him by bringing home a female. But he was sure that his father didn't want just any female. He was probably looking for a princess or something. And just where the hell would he find a princess-like figure? A name clicked. Cheyenne. But he was nearly positive that she was dating Timothy, and if not, she wasn't his type. If he were into females, it would be someone less attention seeking, like Ariadne. Ariadne would make a good choice, but she wasn't exactly the biggest thing in the town.
He scowled, frustrated. He already had other things weighing him down. Now, his father was pressuring him with this subject.
This was definitely his mother's fault. It was a domino effect. She suggested to move here, and so they did, which caused him to meet Dom, to fall recklessly, then to meet Lorenzo, and bring Lorenzo home, which obviously was re final straw for his mother. And thus, he was here, in the shower, drowning himself in negativity.
What was the positive side of things, though?
Well, he still had a roof over his head, food to eat, clothes, his car and keys, his laptop, and his cellphone. He was sure he still had money in the bank as well. Surely, he would be stripped of all his possessions if his father disowned him, and at this moment, he couldn't handle being disowned.
With a sigh, he shut off the shower and dismissed himself from the bathroom after dressing and drying his hair. He returned to his bed room to see the sun beginning to set, but his attention didn't linger on the window for long.
Instinctively, his gaze flickered towards the mirror. At first, Arthur thought it was his pure imagination, but it wasn't. The crack in the mirror had relatively gotten bigger. He needed to get the mirror moved before it were to shatter on his floor.
But what about Eames?
What if the mirror couldn't move?
No— what if Eames was dying?
His heart jumped to his throat at that idea.
Eames couldn't be dying. He simply couldn't. Arthur wasn't a murderer, dammit. Him throwing the pencil holder was completely unintentional to murder.
Maybe Eames was sleeping or sulking.
He tried to convince himself that the Englishman was doing one of those things, but he doubted for some reason. He had to make sure. Pacing over, he peered at the cracks before tapping the unbroken area of the glass.
"Eames?" he whispered.
No answer.
"Eames?" His voice raised a little. Still no answer. "Fuck."
Scrambling to his cellphone, he quickly went through his calls and found an unknown number dating a few days back. Pressing send, he clasped the phone to his ear before tapping the mirror again. "Answer me, Eames!"
Still, nothing.
The phone rang, and on the fourth ring, it was picked up.
"Hello?" came the female's voice.
"Mal," Arthur choked out. "I broke the mirror."
There was silence for two seconds, then, "I'll be there in a few."
Before Arthur could say anything else, she hung up.