"What are you going to do about your car?" Jack asks once he's parked outside Lee's ridiculously opulent mansion.
Truth be told, Lee had been expecting Jack to drop him off at Yumeko's house and leave. What he hadn't expected was Jack actually staying, suffering through Yumeko's affectionate barbs about how he was so whipped for Lee that he turned into his personal chaffeur, as well as her incredibly long lecture (directed at Lee himself, fortunately---he doesn't think he could have handled the guilt if Yumeko had decided to scold Jack) about never leaving him alone again.
"Do I have to put a baby monitor on your forehead, you fucking donkey?" Yumeko had complained as she dabbed dried blood away from his knuckles and slapped band-aids all over. Lee supposes he kind of deserves the shelling. Kind of, because if Yumeko knew the real reason why he looks so bashed up, she'd probably hit him again and then agree.
"I don't know. I'll probably call a taxi to get to school tomorrow and drive it home after," Lee replies flippantly. He hops off Jack's bike, tossing his hair back with a confident smirk. "Should be fine for one night."
Jack makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat as he gets off the bike too. "It's a fucking Camaro. Aren't you afraid it'll get stolen?"
Laughter bubbles off Lee's tongue. "I'm too rich to care, Pref. Even if it does get stolen, Daddy dearest will have a new one in our driveway before I can even count to three." Because apparently money makes up for shit parenting.
Jack flicks the bandage on Lee's forehead with his index finger gently. "Asshole."
"Sorry we're not all broke as shit like you."
"Sorry we're not all dumb as shit like you."
"Sorry we're not all overachievers with sticks bigger than our dicks shoved up our asses like you."
"What the fuck," Jack chokes out.
Score, Lee thinks, grinning from ear to ear. He reaches into the pocket of his jeans---completely against school rules, but considering how he'd dressed to fight, he supposes Jack's decided to turn a blind eye on it---for his house keys. Then he pauses, turning back to Jack. "Thanks for taking me home, Pref," he says, unable to help the affection that creeps into his voice.
Jack snorts. "I saw the amount of cheeseburgers you ordered and knew you would have been rolling home. Couldn't let that happen, could I?" He pauses, something soft settling into his brown eyes like a blanket of stars. It wraps around Lee and makes him feel like the most special person in the world. "Don't bother calling a taxi tomorrow morning. I'll come and pick you up."
All the air in Lee's body instantly escapes his lungs. He's winded, breathless---and shit, he loves it. A grin crosses his face, wide and teasing, and he feels like he's walking on clouds. "You know, you don't need to be so nice to me just because I beat some guys up for you."
"If this is your idea of nice, I'd hate to see your idea of mean. Wear your uniform properly and I'd be even nicer to you."
Lee immediately unbuttons the top of his polo. Jack gives him a glare that could freeze over Antarctica, which promptly sends Lee into a laughing fit. "Calm down, Pref. I'm not going to flash some tit, don't worry."
"You don't have any tits to flash, anyway," Jack replies, grabbing Lee's collar and swiftly buttoning his shirt up again. (Lee swears Jack's hand lingers on his chest a little longer than it should. Or maybe it's just his overactive imagination and tendency to fantasize.) "Are you going to let me pick you up tomorrow or what?"
"I---uh---sure." Lee stares up at his crush---although he's not sure if crush can exactly describe the way he feels for Jack anymore---and smiles prettily. "Thank you."
Jack looks away, cheeks reddening. "Don't thank me, idiot."
"You mean you never learned that you're supposed to thank people when they offer to do you favours? No wonder you're so fucking rude."
"Hey." Jack flicks Lee's nose lightly, making him go cross-eyed for a second. A snicker escapes Jack's mouth, and Lee mock-glares at him. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you."
"The way I look at it, I fed you. No need to thank me. Again, I accept---"
"I'm going to stop you there." Jack turns away, one hand settling on the handlebars of his bike. "I'd better get home soon. Mom's going to kill me if I'm any later."
"Wait. Jack---" When Jack swivels back, curiosity written all over his face, Lee's words catch in the back of his throat. Sweat sticks to his palms, dripping into his bandaged cuts and stinging like a thousand wasps. He'd been so confident when he'd thought of the idea, so sure---but now that Jack stands in front of him like Prince Charming brought to life, he's suddenly weak to the knees. And because he doesn't really know how to stop now, Lee holds out his arms and asks, "Can I hug you?"
I'm a fucking idiot, Lee thinks the moment the words are out of his mouth. He curses his brain, his dick---everything and anything that's led to this sentence. The inevitable crash lingers in the air, the fragile scarlet thread between them snapping and burning and going up in flames. He's touch-starved---fuck, so touch-starved---but now Jack's going to think he's a pervert too.
"Fuck, I'm sor---" Lee starts, only to be cut off by Jack leaning over the handlebars to press his finger to Lee's lips. The action carves itself into Lee's chest and sets him on fire, blazing a million feelings across the thing behind his ribs and---oh. Oh. This is what being in love is like. Fuck, it's wonderful. His body is one whole electric circuit, bulbs igniting, wires crossing, switches flipping, sparks flying off every battery.
Jack's intense gaze seems to pierce through Lee and pin him to the boxing ring of his own feelings. "Don't apologise, okay? Just---" Jack's words glint off his tongue, hot and blunt, glittering with something wildly palpable. A million hopes. Glass dreams built on clouds. The great divide. "Come here, okay?"
Before Lee can stop himself, he's flying into Jack's arms, hands snaking themselves around Jack's sides, head nestling itself into his broad chest. Jack's spine automatically stiffens, the instinctive recoil---and then he yields, warm, pliant, delicately masculine in Lee's embrace. He smells like copper and laundry detergent and hot chocolate in winter, and Lee breathes him in like he's better than oxygen.
When Jack wraps his arms around Lee's waist and pulls him closer, the world dissolves around Lee's ears, leaving behind just them and their little dish soap bubble, floating amongst the stars. He feels breathless, alive. Red wine rushes through his veins, luxurious and royal and beautiful. His thoughts swirl around in his head, a relentless hurricane of Jack Sang is actually fucking hugging me and ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh.
"I'll come at seven tomorrow," Jack says, one hand absent-mindedly pushing Lee's bangs off his forehead.
Lee looks up, pleasantly startled by the visible affection in Jack's eyes, something so raw and visceral he's almost sure he's imagining it. "I need my beauty sleep, Pref."
"And I need to be at school on time, so take it or leave it."
"Fine," Lee harrumphs, burying his face further into Jack's chest. (Since he's finally hugging him, he must as well take full advantage of the situation.) He grins, so wide he's sure Jack can sense it. "Guess that means I'll get to spend more time with you, then!"
He expects a rebuttal. What he doesn't expect is Jack glancing away, cheeks flushing hotly. "Yeah, maybe." And then, fingers still running through the blue-grey strands of Lee's messy hair, "You've got a nice forehead, Lee. Don't hide it all the time."
"That's like asking a chick to stop hiding her tits," Lee replies, trying to hide the way his breath comes in short spurts and his traitorous heart beats just a little too fast in his chest.
"How is a forehead comparable to boobs?"
"My forehead is my boobs. You know, considering how my chest is flatter than paper."
Jack snorts. "You're not wrong." He gathers Lee's bangs up in one hand, the other still tucked comfortably around his waist, and pushes them to the side. A shiver runs through Lee's entire body. He can feel Jack's breath on his skin, warm and light. "You're...kind of pretty, you know that? Even when you're being an idiot," Jack remarks, cheeks bright pink.
Lee laughs breathily, myocardium a jackhammer on a hot tar road. "I'm motherfucking gorgeous. Get it right."
Jack's fingers glance off the band-aid on Lee's forehead gently, and Lee wonders if it's possible for humans to spontaneously explode. "You're a dumbass, that's what you are."
Happiness bubbles in Lee like Coke in a fridge, euphorical carbonation running from the tips of his toes to the ends of his bangs, pulling him up, up, up until he melts into the bright pink sky. "Careful, Pref. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were into me."
Jack jerks away instantly, and Lee feels the loss like a knife in his chest. (He mentally reminds himself to shut up faster next time.) "I wouldn't be into you if you were the only other person on Earth."
"And yet you still let me hug you even though you hate being touched."
"Yeah, well---" Jack goes red, swallowing hard. "It's not so bad when you touch me." Before Lee can continue teasing him, he swings one leg over his bike. The setting sun dapples gold over the straight line of his nose and the edges of his square jaw, and he looks like a prince straight out of Lee's neon dreams. "Remember, tomorrow at seven. Don't be late."
"Okay." Lee grins. His chest cracks open so wide he's sure Jack can see the red, pulsing mass in its ivory cavity. "Jack---thanks, you know. For everything."
Jack's gaze softens, melting like honey---delicate, careful, almost. "Don't thank me, okay? You just looked---"
Off. Lost. Like you needed someone.
The words go unsaid, but they're deafeningly clear in the sunset silence. For a moment, something hangs in the air, hot and wild and palpably distinct. It runs deeper than the veins of Lee's dreams, blisteringly soothing, scorching all his inhibitions, his fear, away. It fills the space between them until Lee thinks he might suffocate, wrapping around the handlebars of Jack's bike, the band-aids lining Lee's knuckles, the tangerine clouds swirling through the sky. It's nothing---but everything all at once.
Lee breaks it---regrettably so. "So...I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Sure. See you tomorrow, Lee. Remember, don't be---"
"Yeah, yeah. Don't be late. I get it."
"You'd better."
"Do I get a goodnight kiss?"
"Don't push it."
٩( ᐛ )و
"Dude, did you hear about Danny and his gang?"
Jon casually swings himself onto Lee's table, sitting on the desk like he owns it. He's all checkered flannel and messy blonde hair today, and maybe Lee stares a little longer than he should, but he can't help it. He's not exactly used to really cute guys randomly sitting on his table. Still, he manages to regain his bearings enough to shake his head innocently. Play dumb, he tells himself. If they don't tell, no one else will.
Jon laughs, glasses half-slipping off his face. "They're such klutzes! All of them fell into the same drain, can you believe it?"
What? Lee swivels around the classroom. Danny's desk is empty, as well as the one next to him. A disgruntled-looking boy with a wrapped-up nose and a pair of crutches gingerly lowers himself into the desk in front of the empty ones. Above his bandages, a pair of beady dark eyes glare daggers into Lee, filled with hate---and something else. Fear.
All Lee's breath leaves his lungs in a rush of relief.
"Mike was saying they were messing around and fell---how they managed to achieve that, I don't even know," Jon babbles. "I mean, they lowkey kind of deserved it. Heard through the grapevine that they've been dicking around with other people---" like Jack "---so I guess this was long time coming? I don't know. I believe in karma and all that, so..." and all Lee can think about is how Jon is actually kind of cute when he rambles.
(Lee's not really used to having male friends that he doesn't fall for. It's not exactly a good thing.)
"Yeah. Long time coming," Lee echoes stupidly, and he's not attracted to Jon, not really, but he certainly is attractive, and---
"Jon! I need you for a minute!" Just like that, Cory's standing in front of Lee's desk too, something thick and green burning in his gaze. Lee waits for the inevitable panic to flicker in Jon's eyes, but to his surprise, it doesn't. (Apparently, everyone realises what Jon's doing except Jon himself. Maybe he's a little more oblivious than Lee'd thought in the first place, which of course, makes him perfect friend material.)
Jon hops off Lee's table lightly, grinning at his best friend. "Yeah?"
Cory bites his lip a little more aggressively then he usually does, emerald-eyed monsters dancing in his face. "Homework."
"Ah. I got you." Jon beams at Lee. "I'll talk to you later, dude. Cory's calling."
"Yeah, no problem---" Lee's eyes flick over to his desk, which is noticeably empty---he'd forgotten his pencilcase in his haste to get out of the house that morning. (And even with all the rush, he'd still been five minutes late. Jack had been quite pissed.) "Wait, Cory, could I please borrow a pen?"
Cory's face instantly shuts down as if Lee's just kicked his dog. "No," he replies, voice flatter than Lee's nonexistent tits. And then he walks away, an evidently confused Jon trailing after him.
Ah. Okay. I get it. Even though I did say please. I'm not trying to steal your boyfriend, I swear. I'm just---admiring the goods, you know, and--- Lee swivels around in his seat, dark gaze meeting a pair of sharp, honey-brown irises. "Hey, Pref."
Jack glances up from his homework---he's done it all at home, but he always insists on triple-checking his answers for reasons Lee can't understand. (Privately, Lee doesn't really get the point of doing homework. It's not like anyone cares about how he does in class, anyway.) He raises a single eyebrow, a feat Lee finds more fascinating than he should. "What?"
"Can I borrow a pen?" I'd personally prefer a penis, but that's probably harrassment.
"Wear your shirt properly and we'll talk about it."
Lee rolls his eyes and buttons his polo properly, basking in the propriety of Jack's careful scrutiny. "Fine, Mom. Happy now?"
"No." But Jack tosses him a pen anyway. Lee accepts it gratefully. "What do you even need it for? You don't even do the work ninety percent of the time and the teachers don't care."
"Because Daddy dearest has been bribing the school to keep me in and I'd like to look like I'm actually doing something so he doesn't think I'm a waste of money." Lee grins. "Well, I'm doing something, but I don't think eye-fucking you counts towards my grades."
Jack chokes. "Shut up, Lee."
"It's okay to swear during school hours, Pref. You would have made a sailor proud yesterday."
"Dream on. I have principles." Jack's eyes narrow suspiciously, and he leans over ever so slightly. "Guess you got away with it, huh?"
Lee blinks innocently, eyes widening. "What do you mean?"
"You know. Them. What you did. They're really not telling."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Of course you do. Don't play dumb."
"Rule one of Fight Club: you do not talk about Fight Club. We're all in Fight Club here, baby."
Jack snorts. "You watch too many movies."
"Yeah. You're right." Lee rests his chin in the palm of his hand, batting his lashes flirtily. "I'd rather watch you."
"And I'd rather watch paint dry."
"Always so cruel, Pref. And that wasn't what you said yesterday when you told me I was pretty."
Jack doesn't flinch, stoic, steady as always. "Moment of weakness."
"Are you implying I'm your weakness?"
Again, Jack doesn't visibly react, but the way his ears flush red lets Lee know he's managed to burrow under his skin. He crosses his arms and leans back with a sigh. "What am I going to do with you?"
"I don't know. Take me out for dinner, maybe?"
It's a long shot, and Lee's always had an overactive imagination, a tendency to blend dreams into reality. It's something he's always done, especially when every good memory is an uppercut and every bad memory is a knockout. It's a habit he's inherited from his mother, and he wears it like a badge of honour, a product of who he is---everything and nothing all at once. But still, before the classroom merges into a hurricane of schoolyard chatter and mathematical problems, Lee swears Jack whispers, "I wish," under his breath.
did i clickbait the frick out of this chapter title? the answer is yes. am i proud of it? the answer is also yes.
this chapter is dedicated to my friend, who accidentally projected a picture of his left nipple to the entire bowling alley on Friday, here's to us somehow not getting kicked out
ALSO i sprained my thigh playing laser tag and thought it was fine because it didn't hurt that much, so i went to sports practice (yes, i do sports. i hate ball sports, but i do running and schist like that) and joined everyone in sprinting. it was not fine. i am now partially immobile and i have marching practice for band tomorrow. FML.
honestly this chapter Would Not have been out today because i got hella distracted browsing Reddit. except i was lurking in r/confession and one guy straight up confessed to jacking off to pics of his own sister and said he was going to do it again but 'only when she wears outfits that are worth jacking off to' and that was when i decided that was enough Reddit for the day. so shout-out to sister-fister dude for making me get off Reddit and actually write. love you, dude. stop jacking off to your sister.
was this a boring chapter? obviously. because it's a filler chapter. sh!t is going to go DOWN in the next chapter, so i thought i'd give you guys a breather and some cute Jack & Lee moments before the real drama starts. lmk if there's any errors because i didn't edit again 💀 like i start school tomorrow i'm sorry okay
as always, lmk what you thought of this chapter! is there anything you'd like to happen, or any predictions you might have? give me your thoughts, criticism, whatever :D
stay healthy and safe, and i love you guys <3
xoxo, Alex