If anyone had asked Lee if he hates his father, his earlier answer would have been a resounding No. Now, with the world crashing down around his ears like red-hot rain, pummelling him with a thousand burning comets until he's bent double and bruised to hell, he's not so sure.
Jack walks over to the bed, bending down to wrap his fingers around Lee's wrist. Even in his anger, his touch is light, gentle, and the way he cares so softly sets Lee's heart aflame. "Let's go. Dad wants to talk to you," he says, voice tight. "My dad, not yours. Though yours seems to want to talk to you too." His veins, popping out of his skin, press against Lee's palm like powerlines running through the city.
"Are you angry at me?" Lee asks quietly, still sitting stock-still, afraid to enrage Jack further.
All the fight seems to go out of Jack's body, and he visibly deflates. "No---of course not, Lee. Why would I be angry at you? I'm just..." Jack reaches up to his temples to rub it aggressively. "Honestly, I'm just angry for you."
"Don't be." Lee stands up, trying to hide the way his world keeps imploding and all he can do is stand back and watch the carnage erupt. He attempts a smile, but it slips right off his face as if his teeth are skating rinks. "I can be angry by myself. Besides..." He reaches up to Jack's face, lightly cupping his right cheek until he manages to coax a begrudging flash of teeth out of Jack. "You're prettier when you're smiling."
Jack flushes. "Bullshit."
"The only thing that's bullshit is my dad. Come on. Let's go talk to your daddy." Lee twists his hand around so his fingers land in Jack's, casually twining their digits together.
"And most of all, I'm not sure how to say that maybe I do want to hold your hand."
Lee knows the statement had been totally platonic, perhaps even familial---simply a product of the urge to treat Lee like glass like everyone does so often, but still. Still. He's a masochist, sometimes, and no matter how many times the hope in his heart gets shot and dies, it always reignites in a thumping, fiery blaze.
Jack scowls. "Please don't call him my daddy. That's fucking weird."
"Well, he is daddy material," Lee muses, only to be met with a disgusted glare that makes him chuckle.
"That's my father, Lee," Jack mutters, slapping Lee's arm lightly. "Firstly, he's thirty years older than you. Secondly, he's married with three kids. Thirdly, did I mention that he's my dad, and therefore this conversation is just extremely weird?"
Lee tosses his head back and laughs, feeling his hair swish against his ears gently. It tickles. "Don't worry, Pref. I'm not going to put the moves on your dad. All I'm going to do is ask him for your hand in marriage."
"Fuck you," Jack splutters, grasping at straws for words to say that won't send Lee's dirty mind sprawling straight into the gutter yet again. (Lee's head pretty much lives in the gutter, nowadays. He can't help it. Jack has that effect on him.) "I'm supposed to be mad."
"And I'm supposed to make sure you don't get mad." Lee nudges Jack lightly, savouring the way their elbows clink against each other like the adoring scarlet lips of wine glass-lovers, so tall and slender and fragile. "So I guess I'm doing my job perfectly."
Jack snorts, but bumps his elbow against Lee's anyway. "Didn't know your job involved being annoying as hell."
"That's actually at the top of my job description, in fact," Lee declares.
He's met with an eye roll so large he could erect a billboard for it. "Whatever. Get your ass out here. Let's go."
Lee laughs, the sound nothing but air, his lungs desperately sucking oxygen into themselves like he'll never breathe again. Like they know his heart will stop the moment he steps past the safety of Jack's bedroom door, because his father's just called and the world will undoubtedly fall like rain once Lee hears what he has to say. "Sure. Let's go," he replies, and he thinks about how this is his last minute alive.
But then he walks past the doorstep, and his myocardium is still a thudding maniac in his chest, thumping against his bare bones as if it's not ready to die, as if the warmth of Jack's palm pressed flush against his sends the blood flowing through his veins once more. He is hard under Lee's butterfly touch, tentative fingers reaching for the light, and like a moth to a flame, Lee spirals further into the funny little things that are his feelings.
Jack's father is in the middle of the living room, broad shoulders heaving with barely-concealed rage. "That bastard," he hisses, obviously in the middle of a conversation with his equally pissed off wife. Then he swings around, eyes widening at Lee's presence, hand instantly swiping at the air dismissively. "I'm so sorry, Lee! I didn't see you there! I wasn't talking about your dad, I promise!"
"You're not fooling anyone, Dad," Jack snorts. Takes a horrible liar to know another horrible liar. Like father, like son, Lee supposes.
He grins. "It's okay, Uncle," he says cheerfully. "I've said worse things about Dad." And I've told him them, too, but he never seems to listen anymore. I said I hated him and he didn't even flinch.
Jack's father's mouth presses together in a tight frown. "Right." His gaze travels to Jack and Lee's interlocked palms, eyes widening again as the frown wipes itself right off his face. Jack instantly pulls away, discreetly brushing his hand off on his shirt as if that'll get rid of the memory of Lee's fingers on his. The action hurts more than Lee would like to admit. "You might want to sit down for this."
(Lee figures he must as well be comfortable while his universe ends, so he obediently plops himself down on the threadbare couch. He's gratified by the way Jack immediately sits next to him. Even though he did brush off his palm.)
Jack's father raises his hand and waves it around. "Are we all nice and settled and ready? Alright? Great. Your dad's got a bloodhound."
Out of all the things in the world, his father getting a dog...hadn't exactly been the news Lee was expecting to hear. "What? But we already have Socks, and---"
"Not a dog, sweetie," Jack's mother interrupts, sympathy dancing in her brown eyes. "A P.I. Your dad got a private investigator to look for you."
Nothing crashes and burns and erupts in flames like Lee expects it to. He's just---numb. Confused, almost. There's a million thoughts swirling in his head. Isn't this what you always wanted? he asks himself. For Dad to give a shit about you? Doesn't him hiring a private investigator mean he's finally giving a shit about you? But now, now, now, indirectly flaunting his fat wallet in Lee's face and ripping him away when he's managed to reach something resembling happy---it tastes like bittersweet tragedy, dark chocolate flooding Lee's arteries instead of blood.
He's not sure what to say, so he does his best to sort out his intertwined thoughts, picking at the seams where they've muddled themselves up into each other and faded to grey. In his mind, he separates them with colons, preceding every list and feeling and notion with two dots of placid punctuation. He is: happy. He is: worried. He is: organising his thoughts because everything hurts and soothes at the same time and it's such a mess and he can't seem to steal back control of his head no matter what he does.
And so, he is: numb, caught in the space between joy and fear, tangled in the web his mother's face has served to create.
"What the hell?" Jack spits. "How'd you even find out?"
"I asked, Jackie," Jack's father states. "After I took the call from you. I wanted to know how the hell he managed to get my son's number and said I wouldn't be talking to him unless he answered my questions. He admitted he hired a bloodhound to track down your number. And then he offers me a couple thousand to tell me where his kid is. Who the fuck does that? What does he think I am?"
"Dear," Jack's mother warns, tone stern.
Jack's father deflates. "Sorry, darling. Lost control of myself for a moment there." He shakes his head irritatedly. "Tracking down a kid's phone? My kid's phone? With a private investigator?"
Lee can barely hear. His head is ringing, nerves buzzing as if they've been set on fire. Every word that sandpapers itself off Jack's father's tongue razes his ears closer to his skin, blood and bone spraying everywhere like the world's sickest waterfall. Private investigator. Tracked down Jack's number. Looking for me.
Isn't this what I always wanted? For him to care about me?
Not like this. I just wanted a hug once in a while. I never wanted...this.
"Sorry," Lee manages to get out, mouth dry. He wishes that he could cry, but his eyes are equally parched. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't know he was going to do this." There's something tight in his throat, a hard lump of brick and mortar that clogs up his airways until he can't breathe. And even though Lee knows people like him, glass ballerinas with mouths too big for their bodies and their mothers' faces, don't deserve to live, he can't help hating the unfairness of it all.
"No!" The word leaves Jack's lips in a staccato burst of hellfire, blazing over Lee's skin and leaving it raw. "No, no, no! This is not your fault!" He stands up so fast he nearly knocks the entire couch over, and Lee doesn't miss the way even Jack's parents jump. He slowly lifts his head, recoiling slightly at the flickering flames in Jack's eyes, twin coals peppering holes through the rest of the room. The burn mark on his neck almost seems to glow.
Lee's never seen him so angry before. It's weirdly hot.
"Listen to me, Leroy," Jack hisses. "What your dad does is not your fault. He's a piece of shit, and you cannot blame yourself for that. And---" His shoulders slump, and he rubs his forehead frustratedly. "Shit!"
"Jackie, sit down," Jack's mother orders, and to Lee's surprise, Jack does. She turns to Lee, concern in his eyes. "We didn't tell him you were with us, because we didn't know if you'd want him to know that. We simply said that you were safe, and if and when you wanted to go back, you'd contact him yourself." She tries for a smile, but worry lines crinkle her brow into origami strips. "It's your choice, Lee. I understand you're having a hard time with your dad right now, so I won't ask you to do anything. We've reassured him of your safety, but keep in mind that he might not back off. Right now, I think the best thing for you to do will be to get some sleep, sweetie. It's been a long day for you."
"Will...you guys get in trouble?" Lee questions tentatively, hardly daring to hear the answer.
"That's a problem for tomorrow," Jack's mother replies. She gently brushes Lee's hair away from his face---in his private distress, his bangs have fallen into his face again---and a million waterworks set themselves off in Lee's chest.
(He misses his mother more than he'd like to admit.)
"We won't," Jack's father declares fiercely, confidently. He seems to stand up straighter as he claps his hand on Lee's shoulder, and Lee wishes his own father could do something like that once in a while. Maybe then he wouldn't have run away, and his father wouldn't have to hire a private investigator, and they wouldn't be in this mess right now. "Don't worry about it."
(Lee worries anyway.)
They walk back to Jack's room in silence. For once, Lee doesn't think either of them have much to say. When Jack heads into the shower, Lee yanks his backpack out from under Jack's bed. He feels the comforting weight of the cash inside sting his palms, burning his fingers like hot coals, and he remembers his father's mantra of how bribery is always the answer.
Just in case.
٩( ᐛ )و
"Forgot a shirt," Jack mumbles fifteen minutes later as he slips back into his room, hair dripping and cheeks bright red.
It's Lee's turn to let his jaw drop. He's always thought of Jack as hot, but with his shirt off, he's...wow. Pale skin stretches taut over broad shoulders and an equally broad back that arches in a perfect V, its milky pallour interrupted only by the dark mark ringing his throat. His chest is just as hard as it's always felt under Lee's curious fingers, defined muscles marking their way across his pecs. A small curve of flesh makes its way across his stomach, a little raised bump that does nothing to mar the carefully-sculpted lines of his body, carved out of rock-solid granite by Michelangelo's steady hand.
"Wow," Lee remarks appreciatively. His teeth find his bottom lip, and he really hopes he looks flirty right now. (Knowing his luck, he probably looks more like a duck. A sexy one, if he's fortunate.)
"Damn it, stop staring," Jack complains, every inch of bare skin flushing scarlet.
"How is it that you're so ripped when you don't even exercise?" Lee questions, hungry gaze soaking up as much of Jack's form as he can. Hot damn. I better enjoy the view while I can. Who knows when I'll get to see it again? He thinks about what he'd do if he could bring his mouth to Jack's body, if he could run his lips from his soft belly to his chiselled limbs. He's sure he'd find heaven in his hips, and he'd set it alight in a heartbeat.
"I do a lot of housework," Jack admits sheepishly, ears turning pink. "I'm the oldest, so I'm the one who has to help Dad with the stuff he can't do anymore. Like heavy lifting. There's only so much heavy lifting you can do with one hand." He reaches for a t-shirt hanging on his clothes rack and tosses it over his head, and even though Lee silently mourns the loss of Jack's partial nudity, he can't help appreciating how the t-shirt hugs him in all the right places.
"I've never seen you wear a t-shirt before," Lee comments.
"Maybe you weren't looking hard enough."
"Pretty sure I'd remember you looking that buff. It's hot."
"I'm seventeen and I've already got a gut. It's not hot."
"It's fucking hot and you can take my word for that." Lee winks. "Would I ever lie to you?"
Jack rolls his eyes. "The answer is yes." He sighs, dropping himself down on the bed next to Lee. "I'll stay with you until you're ready to sleep, then I'll go outside. So let me know when---"
"Why?"
"What do you mean why?"
"Why'd you have to go outside? Stay with me. We can share the bed."
"This isn't a romance novel, dumbass."
"Oh, so you are thinking romantic thoughts about me?" Lee teases. (There's nothing more he wants than for that to be true, but Lee's learned a little too late that wishes go unanswered and shooting stars always die.)
Jack flushes. "Shut up." He lies down, exhaling loudly. "Fine. We can share, if you want to so badly. Thought a rich kid like you would be used to having his own space, though."
Lee brushes off the shorts he'd changed into ten minutes ago. "Nah. Yumeko and I sleep together all the time. Not that way, before your mind goes there."
"You're the only one who's going there, idiot. I know you don't like chicks."
They lie in silence for longer than they should, side by side. In Jack's tiny bed that's definitely way too small for two, Lee can feel everything. Jack's heartbeat in his chest. The warmth of his skin against Lee's own. The eternal multitudes between them, a gap he can never quite seem to bridge.
"What's up with your dad and you, actually?" Jack asks, then tsks at himself. "I mean, if you don't mind sharing. If you're uncomfortable, you don't need to."
Lee folds his arms behind his head, gaze fixed on the blank white of Jack's ceiling, so low he's sure he could reach it if he stood on a chair. It's easier than focusing on Jack---pressed right next to him, so close it hurts, almost but never enough. "It wasn't always like this."
He waits. To his credit, Jack catches on quickly.
"What was it like?" Jack enquires.
"I don't know." Lee shrugs. "Normal. Happy. My parents actually loved me when I was young. They gave me everything. Probably why I'm so spoiled."
"You're not spoiled."
"You didn't see me when I was younger. I cried when I didn't get my way."
"We've been friends for nearly ten years, dumbass. Of course I've seen that. But you're not spoiled now, and the present's what matters, not the past."
"Is it really?" Lee lifts his finger, tracing invisible constellations in the sky. "Because I don't think the present really matters if you can't get out of the past."
"Aren't I supposed to be the pessimistic one here?"
"Maybe you're rubbing off on me."
"Well, un-rub me off you."
"Why would I ever want to do that?" Lee chuckles breathlessly, lowering his hand into Jack's open palm. He senses Jack's instinctual flinch, then the eventual yield. Warmth tickles his body, from his marked knuckles to the tips of his toes. It instantly recedes the moment he remembers what he's talking about. "Dad and Mom got a divorce a few years back. I'm pretty sure you know that already. That was kind of when things got all fucked up."
He stops. Sucks in a deep breath, chest rising and falling beneath his thin t-shirt like the swell of the sea.
"Take your time," Jack says.
Lee presses his head further into the pillow. "I mean, I was sad too. Fuck that, I was devastated. My entire world fell apart in a single day. But Dad...the divorce killed him. Because Mom was the one who asked for the divorce, and he gave it to her because he loved her so much. Even though she didn't love him anymore. It was why they got divorced, you know. Because Mom's a hopeless romantic, and she fell out of love. And she didn't want a marriage without the love, so she left. I guess Dad knew that sometimes, loving someone means you have to let them go." With his free hand, he reaches for the edge of Jack's blanket, rolling it between his scarred fingers. "He got full custody, because Mom was moving to Spain. And then..."
Another pause.
"And then?" Jack prods, before catching himself. "Sorry. Take your time."
"And then Dad started hating me. And he still hates me even to this day. Because I look exactly like Mom. And he can't bear to have a perfect replica of the lost love of his life staring him in the face every day." Lee exhales, a short, sharp burst of breath that knocks all the wind out of his lungs. "The end." He wrinkles his nose. "Well, not really the end, because there's a whole lot of other shit in between. Like, Dad kind of---withered, if you get what I mean. You know what it's like to have a parent wither, don't you?"
"Yeah. I do."
"Fuck." Lee sinks deeper into the mattress, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. "Honestly, I always thought Mom would take me with her. I was her darling boy, anyway. But she didn't, and I thought it was okay, because she called every day. For years and years. Every single day. And then one day she didn't call, so I called her instead." A bark of laughter, bitter as melted pills, escapes his lips. "Four hundred and eleven days."
"What?"
"That's how long it's been since Mom's last call. So I guess I managed to achieve the grand feat of making both parents hate me."
No one says anything for a while.
"I'm sorry," Jack says when he finally speaks.
Lee waves a dismissive hand that he doesn't really mean. "Nah, fuck that. Like you said: past is past. Present's now. And I guess this kind of shit doesn't really matter anymore, because Dad's finally stepping up even though he can't even bear to look at me, right?"
The silence is loud.
"I'm scared," Lee finally admits, breaking the comfortable quiet that's settled over them like a blanket.
Jack doesn't reply immediately. Then, he stands up, heading over to the light switch and flicking it off. In the pitch-black cold, Lee senses Jack's body press against him, hard and hot and familiar. "What are you scared of?" Jack asks, the words humid against Lee's ear---tentative, careful, glass-like. His hand finds Lee's waist, and Lee feels his breath catch in his throat.
"Of...everything, I guess. What if Dad decides to sue for...I don't know, kidnapping or something? What if he finds me?" Lee shuts his eyes, even though he knows Jack can't see him. "What if he decides I'm not worth the effort and stops looking?"
"Hey. Come here." Jack's arms wrap around him, drawing Lee into a tight embrace that sucks all the oxygen from his lungs. "He won't. He's making an effort now, and even though it's way too late, he won't give up on you. And I doubt your dad will sue us. We've got nothing to give."
"True. And he knows I'll hate him forever if he does that. It's not his style to sue people, anyway." Bribery's more his thing. Something in Lee reminds him that his father remembers. That for once in his life, he remembers. He remembers that Jack and Lee are friends, even though that's something Lee hasn't talked about in years. And even though it's too little, too late, it almost feels like a start. The beginning of the end. "I'll call him tomorrow or the day after. Just to let him know I'm okay so he doesn't give your parents a hard time." He hesitates, fear glued to his tongue. "But what if he just...stops caring?"
"He won't." There's iron in Jack's tone, fire in his voice, surety in his words. "He won't. And even if he does...well...I guess I'll just have to love you enough for all the people who won't."
Something sticks to Lee's throat and seals it shut. His eyes are still dry, but for a moment, the dam inside breaks. In the dark, where wicked, beautiful creatures hide, where no one can see the things he does, Lee pulls his heart out of its ivory cage and places it in Jack's unknowing hands. And he wishes, wishes so damned hard, that he could pour out all his feelings like the constant river flowing in his mushy paper heart. "Thank you," he says, melting into Jack's hug. "Just---thank you. I can't..."
"Don't thank me. It's okay, Lee." Jack pauses. "I'll stay home with you tomorrow."
"Don't you have to go to school, Pref?"
"Some things are more important than school."
Like me? Lee chuckles. "I'm really rubbing off on you, huh?"
"You say that like it's a good thing."
"It is a good thing. You're just jealous."
"And you're in denial. Me? Jealous of you? Never in a million years."
"Always so harsh, Pref." It's Lee's turn to hesitate, something scratching at the back of his mind, wailing to be let out. Oh, right. "Earlier, what were you saying before my dad called? You were halfway through a sentence, but he interrupted you. What did you want to say?"
Jack's silent. Lee feels something slam down between them, an invisible brick wall that nearly hits him in the face. "You know what I wanted to say," he says, voice tight.
No. I don't. What did you want to say? Why do you expect me to know? I don't know anything when it comes to you. "I don't. Can't you just tell me?"
"Thought it was pretty obvious."
Confusion floods Lee's addled brain, glaringly loud over Jack's sudden quiet. Something buzzes madly in the back of his head, and he feels like he should know what it is---but he doesn't. "It wasn't. What was it? Can you stop being cryptic and just tell me? I really don't know what you were trying to say!"
The temperature in the room seems to drop by several thousand degrees. Jack pulls away abruptly, and Lee hears the faint rustle of him turning the other way. "It doesn't matter. If you don't know, it's fine. You don't need to know. It's not important, anyway. Goodnight, Lee."
"Jack---"
"Goodnight, Lee."
It's a dangerous game, this push and pull. It hangs in the air between them, raising goosebumps on Lee's arms and pushing his head under water once more. It wraps an icy fist around his lungs and drags them out of his chest, closing in on them until nothing but blood and brine remains, saltwater from the eternal sea he keeps drowning in. It lingers in the balance of the universe, so hot and then so cold, ripping away everything Lee's ever known until he's left in the dark with nothing but his palpable confusion and erratic, traitorous heartbeat. Alone once more.
WHY did it take so long for Sneakers (Itzy) to grow on me? like wtf why did i only just realise this schist is a fking bop---all it took was me going PUT MY SNEAKERS ON HANA DUL READY GET SET GO for 3 days straight to realise what a BOTY (bop of the year) it is
ANYGAYS sorry this chapter is so late! this chapter was honestly a really hard one for me to write because of how heavy it is. so i struggled a lot with writing it since i wanted to portray everything in a realistic way that was still super emotional, WITHOUT being offensive or insensitive, as someone who has never gone through this type of situation before (came pretty close though---i was legit worried my parents were gonna get a divorce at the beginning of the year with the way they were fighting---but i digress). so you can see how hard it was for me to write.
ALSO sorry i missed last week's update!!! a) this is like twice the length of my regular chapters, and b) i'm having my exams rn lolol---3 papers tmr T_T
BUT i got my June IG results back andddd i got a double A+!!! both subjects :D so i'm really really happy about that ahahaha (also my crush was the first to congratulate me by screaming the house down uwu) like i put in so much effort and i'm so happy it paid off T_T <3
waaaahahahua anygays that's all from me today!!! short a/n cause i've been studying for six hours straight and i'm tired af aHahahHahahA---
as always, lmk what you think of this chapter! i'd love to hear any thoughts, feedback, or constructive criticism! (also pls point out any errors you see THANK YOU CAUSE I AM BLIND)
hope everyone's doing well, staying safe, and drinking lots of water! love yalls lots MWAH <333
xoxo, Alex