𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓

settling onto the sand beside jack, dominic held out one of the bottles he held in his hand. “haven’t got this much sun in ages,” he noted, squinting at the sun above the water. it felt nice. even more so that he was with his cousin, beer in hand. a simple thing, but at the moment, there was no place he’d rather be. “you good, jack? like, with everything. feels like we haven’t talked in forever. uh, congrats…with gunner.” @jackhvll​

( @jackhvll​​ )

For a very long time, Saige had thought herself immune from crying. She hadn’t cried often as a child - ingrained from a young age not to, that maybe something catastrophic would happen if she did; hurricanes and tsunamis, tornadoes and flash floods - all her doing, all by a slip of a tear. She outgrew it - the fear of causation and correlation, that her actions resulted in terrible things - knew that nothing bad would happen if a smile cracked, if she settled ( there’d been a lingering fear of natural disasters, still - always in the back of her mind; she hid herself away from thunderstorms, still, on particularly bad days ) - still, still - the burning clump in her throat, the stinging in her eyes - it’d been embarrassing. Saige felt embarrassed, by it - her own emotion - held in so tightly as she walked up the path to the cottage; blinded by it, as she entered the doorway and took no more than two steps before colliding into a familiar chest - one hand coming to swipe at tears not yet fully formed and the other still clutching onto her beach towel for dear life ( she’d been clothed, shorts and bikini top - but it was an anchor, almost, the white of her knuckles as she struggled to keep a grip on all that she’d contained ), “Sorry -” Saige swallowed down the red hot - ignoring the sting of salt water residue, “I’m like - um - I’m, um -” there’d been nothing to say - no excuses to come to mind, just a hand on Jack’s chest as she gently tried to push him away, farther from her so she could retreat to someplace alone, “ - excuse me, um - please. Please.”

Crying was something else entirely to Jack Hall. He grew up in a house that fostered emotional expression, that would collapse under its own weight if it didn’t. Even as he grew older, he remembered crying on the bus back from a particularly bad loss in a big game, sitting at the table with his dad on his mom’s anniversary and being unable to hold back tears. Feeling the warmth in the emotion. Reveling in it. He felt like he knew exactly what to do, when Saige stepped into his grasp, when his mind registered that she was crying. It was always a violent reaction, at first, when someone he knew was hurting, like he needed somewhere else to put the hurt, someone to blame. “Saige? Who? Why?” he whispered into her ear, before she was pushing away, and he found himself reaching back for her wrist, another arm on her back, guiding her back into his chest. “Let’s go to my room. It’s just down the hall. No one will be in there you can ..” Looking down at her, Jack’s chest caved in on itself. The anger faded, replaced by a terrible gnawing, sad, lonely. “Please. At least until you stop crying.”

Standing limply outside of the basement door of his cottage, currently booming with life due to the black-light rave, Gunner moved for the first time in however long when he heard the tell tale sign of the door opening behind him, “Hey! Come here,” Reaching back to grab Jack’s hand, he pulled him in closer so that Gunner could guide his eye line towards the stars he’d been staring at, pointing excitedly, “They’re bright. They’re so bright tonight - the stars don’t feel this bright in Lovell, I don’t know why. What do you think?” he asked, finally turning to Jack properly for the first time since he’d stepped outside, “Sorry. Kinda… overly enthusiastic. Tonight’s fun so far - this whole week was fun. I’m just… basking in it. Still. You’re having fun?” @jackhvll​

Showing up to the party without first covering himself in paint had been a terrible game plan, apparently, as Jack had spent the last 30 minutes watching his body turn into a canvas by strangers who were less than enthused with his lack of costuming. Time lost that could have been better spent finding Gunner, which seemed like a near impossible task as he roamed the cabin aimlessly, not even sure what color paint he should be on the lookout for. Hope seemed lost before he managed to exit the basement, finding relief in the lack of bodies and the presence of one Gunner Paxton. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiled softly, letting Gunner drag him closer, his entire body feeling light. He hadn’t had anything to drink, had barely even had anything to smoke, and felt a little like he was stepping into a dream. As Gunner pointed, he couldn’t help but watch his face, how much it lit up, like when Jack was a child and his mother would weave bedtime stories for him. “I like the way you look at the stars. They look like this in Wyoming?” They didn’t talk about Wyoming, but maybe things were different now. Jack felt like they could talk about anything. Pressing his hand to Gunner’s cheek so he left a paint mark, Jack shrugged, though his smile gave him away. “Other than the fact that I’ve been avoiding your brother like my life depends on it every night, I’d say it’s okay.” He kicked at Gunner’s shoe, finally letting himself look at the stars he’d been directed to, pulling away from watching him. “Better now. No interruptions. That’s a .. song. Don’t quote me on that.”

it wasn’t exactly that she’d been avoiding jack, mostly since she’d had a lot of other things in her mind recently, but she had definitely done her best not to engage in conversation with him ever since their night together. it had not been one of her greatest ideas, for sure, and though she still didn’t understand half of the drama she was currently dealing with, she was pretty convinced some of it had to be karma for that terrible, terrible decision. seeing him sat by the bonfire felt like a chance as good as any to try and make peace with it, so gathering some courage, she walked up to sit by him. “hey,” she said with a half smile. “this seat taken?” @jackhvll​

the beach was one of mili’s favorite places on earth. she hadn’t had the chance to go as much as she would have liked to as a kid, but every time her dad had taken her had instantly turned into one of the best days of her life. the sun, the sand, the sea, she felt a deep connection with it all, and as soon as they’d unpacked she’d headed straight there, determined to find as many cute shells as she could to add to the bracelets she’d been braiding on the bus later that day. she was just admiring a particularly nice one, holding it up to the light, when she noticed someone approaching her. “oh, hey,” she said with a grin, offering the shell to jack as she put her other hand over her eyes to block the sun. “wanna see it? it’s the most beautiful one i’ve found this morning, but i’ve found a lot of pretty ones, this beach is amazing.” @jackhvll​

DM @leo_fowler: i didnt actually sleep w him its just some Light Fun

DM @leo_fowler: but its a secret jst between us ok

DM @jackhall1: ohhhh okay I get your drift

DM @jackhall1: like just some heavy petting?

DM @jackhall1: am I dming properly

DM @jackhall1: @leo_fowler Im tagging you so you see this

The point Jack made had Gunner flinching, teeth gnawing on his bottom lip with guilt. He was right, it was practically a quote right from Gunner’s mouth - if he denied it now, it’d just be shitty of him. Gunner had done as much damage between them as Jack had, realistically, “Yeah, I - I shouldn’t have - I was mad, I didn’t mean it,” Trying to get the words out only made Gunner realize how hard his brain had to work on making sentences coherent. Even after all the work he’d put in, he still couldn’t get out what he wanted to say, “Obviously I didn’t mean it, I… caved pretty fucking easily,” There was an aggression to his words that wasn’t aimed at Jack. Frustration made clear, it only worsened at Jack’s bland statement, showing in the incredulous look Gunner flashed him, “It’s not,” he insisted, grip on Jack’s shirt tightening, “That’s such… a narrow minded way of viewing it. It’s not, for some people. It wouldn’t be for - for me, it wouldn’t be. If it was - If we - It just… it wouldn’t be just sex,” Even the way they held onto each other showed off their character, proved just how different they could be. With Gunner frozen still, rigid and clutching for dear life, like Jack’s hands weren’t everywhere. Everywhere but still not enough - he didn’t even know what would satiate him at this point, everything about their situation felt suffocating, overwhelming -, “Jesus Christ,” It came out without Gunner’s permission, his slowly building annoyance exploding all at once the longer their conversation went nowhere, “Just - God, come here,” Letting go of Jack finally, he grabbed at the other’s hand this time, dragging them back towards the front door - like Gunner hadn’t just pulled him outside, away from everyone’s eyes. Almost whipping the door open into someone’s face, he didn’t even bother to stop and apologize when they shouted a What the fuck! at his back, tugging Jack along with all too familiar determination. Either more people had shown up to the party since they’d been outside or it just felt that way, most of them laughing and shouting along to Britney Spears as she blared on the speakers. The gusto with which Gunner had dragged them there had dissipated slightly by now, “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, then again when he turned to face Jack, and then once more when he gripped at him by the back of his neck, dragging him down to Gunner’s level so he could press a kiss to his lips.

“I do, but that has nothing to do with this situation considering I don’t hate you. You make me sound like a jealous freak,” Miles argued, though he understood where Jack was coming from. Sometimes he was a jealous freak. He couldn’t help it. Sometimes he felt like as soon as he latched onto someone, he owned them in some right. It was an unfortunate flaw. “I got banned because Freya is a troll and Lana’s a follower. Don’t twist the story.” Weaving his way out of someone’s backyard and approaching his own, he shook his head. “Besides, I’m not really in need of a forced pairing. Feels kinda dated, no? Didn’t even get to make a preference.”

“No one’s always happy,” As he said it, Gunner’s voice dipped to an almost inaudible level. Like it was wrong for him to contradict Jack as he lived in his own version of ignorant bliss, guilty of showing him reality. But it was the truth. He’d never been someone who was capable of pretending everything was alright when it wasn’t, masking dread with smiles and well wishes. Especially now, the furrow of his brows deepened, his frown wobbling. Even with Jack’s hands finding their way back to his side again, like they were magnetized, like Gunner hadn’t just pulled them away so that he could get through one cohesive thought. He was feeling suddenly trapped, like the other’s words had come to life and tossed him into a confined space, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and their gut-punching meaning, “That’s not -,” he started, tried to, shaky hands coming up to cup over his face, hide his pained expression. Gunner could feel his throat clenching, the same emotions he’d always tried to suppress with Jack bursting forward at once and suffocating him, “You’re not being fair,” It almost sounded like Gunner was whining childishly, the same way he always did when he struggled to get his words across or contain himself. Containing himself with Jack had always been nearly impossible. Swallowing harshly, Gunner had to remind himself this was… different. It felt different. He wanted it to be different, instead of reverting back to the way he used to hide, scared, when Jack made things feel just that much more real with them. This felt like a breaking point, like a now or never situation, “I know… that you had to leave for your family,” Gunner hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath, words coming out in a panted exhale. He lowered his hands finally, so that they could clutch at the hemline of Jack’s shirt, fingers dipping into the holes of mesh - grasping at him for stability, the same way he’d needed to that day on the track field, “but when you came back and slept with - what happened with Saige made everything feel like. I thought it’d just been… a game. I don’t know if it was - I don’t know. Some stupid, shitty self destructive bullshit, but that. Sucked. I was mad at you, I was… really, really mad,” Gunner let himself be pulled forward without protest. For as much as his mind was racing, he’d never felt more clarity in his life - his eyes were clear and his words were poignant when he said, “I would choose you. Still. And it always made me mad because I was scared and I just wanted you to choose me. Only me,” Is there something I’m not seeing? If Gunner hadn’t made it obvious at this point, he had to now. His hands were still shaking, fingers brushing against the bare skin of Jack’s torso with each tremble, but he did his best to make his voice steady, “Yes,” Shaky, just as bad as his hands, “You are… clearly. Not seeing something - You… Do I have to say it? I can’t - I don’t know how to spell this out for you. But obviously. You’re not seeing the big picture if you don’t know. How I feel.”

“alls fair in love and war,” jack echoed, and he remembered saying it once, to his ex back in high school, when she’d confronted him in the cafeteria. after he’d cheated on her with his running back, and it had been a scandal and it had broken her heart and he hadn’t been able to find it in him to care. it sounded different this time, though maybe still equally as bitter, staring at gunner and looking too much like a puppy that had been kicked. the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair, knew guilt would get him no where. “but you asked,” he mumbled, words muffled by gunner’s hands suddenly on him, feeling their heart like it was his whole center. “you told me not to talk to you anymore,” jack croaked, but the guilt he felt about it all was suffocating him again. “sex is just sex,” but everything he was saying felt too much like an excuse, so he shut himself up, hands roaming again, on his hips, on his stomach, where they pressed gently at the exposed skin. “i know i’m not the smartest guy alive,” he managed, but it came out like a pant because their hands had found each other’s skin and it would have been a lot for jack in any state, but he was so drunk, and he was so high, and it felt like all the other times all over again. “but i’d like to think i know you well enough to --” his own hands felt like claws, “say i kiss you,” barely managed, because he wasn’t used to being so careful, even around gunner. “say i kissed you right here. anyone could walk out and see. what would you do?” they were close enough, he could have leaned forward and closed the distance. he wasn’t sure what kept him from doing it, his pride or his anticipation to hear a response, but he settled for breathing there, into him, like it was enough anymore. “you know i’m not good for you. surely you’ve figured that out by now.” but he didn’t move.

The moment they were outside, Gunner wished he’d thought to grab water - or something to drink, at least. The pill he’d been given a while ago had finally started to make an appearance about half an hour ago, probably what had made him bold enough to demand Jack talk to him in the first place, and his mouth had never felt drier. Not that Jack’s words helped, anyway. Gunner could have chugged a whole gallon of water, and his mouth would have instantly dried at the other’s insistence, “You don’t -,” he started, immediately halting when Jack’s hand came to toy with the material of his shirt, before trying all over again, “But you won’t… you’re barely even acknowledging me. You won’t look at me,” Trying to catch Jack’s eyes now, where he was still dodging eye contact and staring intently at Gunner’s shoulder instead, like it was the most interesting thing in the world, “and I had to force you out here to talk to me, I - I don’t get it. Is it - What’s making you so happy if you won’t even -,” Feeling Jack’s hands start to wander made Gunner’s brain short circuit. His mouth still hung open, making it obvious he wanted to say more, but he’d never been too good at thinking when Jack’s hands were on him. Gunner used to think it was a bad thing, the way he could barely function with just a simple touch from him, just from a look, sometimes - now, it was making him even more reckless. It made him want to see just how mindless he could get if Jack put his hands somewhere else, “I’m not asking about everyone else,” Moving sharply, Gunner was suddenly grabbing at where Jack’s hands were resting on his sides, goosebumps raised on his arms from the touch. It was making his brain soupy, incapable of even forming a proper sentence at this point, “Just - I can’t… think. When you do that. I need to think,” he insisted, breaths coming in staccato pants. It was reminiscent of the same way he’d been breathing when he’d panicked in front of Jack on the track field, but he didn’t feel panicked this time. His heart hammered the same way, but the twist of his stomach was entirely different. There was no sharp pain, a stabbing guilt that made him feel like the world was about to collapse around him, “I’m not. I’m not - you’re oblivious,” he huffed back childishly, staring up at Jack with wide eyes, pupils that matched, “You wouldn’t talk to me. You couldn’t get away from me fast enough, when we got to the pre. Are you really happy? Actually? Because I’m not. You wouldn’t talk to me - you wouldn’t look at me. And you’re bringing up everyone else like I care. If I cared about everyone else I’d still be inside. I think you’re oblivious.”

jack’s hands stilled with gunner’s own around them. he could have kept dragging them, mapping areas of his torso he’d never paid much mind to before, like the jut of his hip bones or the line of his sternum, would have been completely content to stand like that for the rest of the night. it was quiet, and he had gunner to himself, and his eyes were so warm, his entire face so warm. but he felt a jolt of shame the moment gunner started questioning him. he knew he’d messed up, had suspected it before but really knew it then, and it was all a bit embarrassing, being told off like a child. “i’m always happy,” he tried to add, like a correction, even though it wasn’t true, not even close, and the real truth of the matter was that he was always fighting off misery like it was nipping at his heels. his past, his present, his future. jack wasn’t sure of any of it, and it ate away at his confidence until he felt like unfolding at gunner’s feet, begging for him to understand what he wanted to say so he didn’t have to be out with it. “i’m happy because i got to come to this with you, even if you wouldn’t have chosen me,” he started, hands gripping his sides a little firmer, pushing a little closer. like this had lit a fire under him. “but how fair is that? we both know you wouldn’t have said yes if i had asked. so i’ve given you space. all the space you could want. i won’t  --  you’ve made it clear this isn’t what i want it to be,” and he tried not to sound torn up about it, like it didn’t still his rabbiting heart. “every time i push, you run away. i’ve never been rejected so much in my life and i still ..” he sighed, shaking off gunner’s hands over his own, pressing them into the small of his back. “ --  so i’m happy, because i can pretend this is something that it’s not. for a night.” he didn’t dip his head, even though he wanted to, avert his gaze because he was scared what he would find there. he would be a man. his nostrils flared a bit at the thought. “is there something i’m not seeing?” he felt like if he pressed any closer, he’d be on top of him. his mind should have been swimming, but it was silent. he held his breath.

Growing up, Gunner had spent a lot of his time either being avoided or feeling ignored. It’d become something he merely shrugged off, incapable of caring about it after a certain point, but something about Jack going out of his way to avoid conversation with Gunner didn’t sit right with him. From when the other insisted on blaring music in their car instead of talking to him, to all but running away both at the pre and now at the party, it’d gotten to the point where Gunner couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening anymore, “Come here!” If there hadn’t been music blaring, Gunner would’ve muttered it under his breath, but he didn’t have a choice but to yell. Grabbing Jack’s wrist, he yanked the other away from their conversation - if there were any protests, he didn’t hear them - only stopping once he all but shoved him outside Paquin so they could properly hear each other, “What’s your problem? Are you mad at me? You - I mean, I thought - we were just getting good again, now you won’t even look at me. What’d I do?” @jackhvll​

jack felt like he was practically unravelling at the seams. the night was supposed to be a pleasant one, a real date with gunner, set up for him barring him from actually having to go through the pressure of asking him himself. there were few things jack was afraid of more than rejection, stemming from some desperate, innate need to be accepted, to be liked. this made him particularly terrified of gunner, especially as the night dragged on and he found himself doing everything in his power to avoid messing anything up. the less he spoke to him, he had figured out, the greater the chance would be that he wouldn’t do anything to ruin this. he was engrossed in a particularly dull conversation with one of the men working as party security when gunner grabbed him, seemingly chiding him publicly. “duty calls!” he offered as an explanation, smiling charmingly despite the racketing heart beat in his chest. the night air chilled him immediately, and despite the high that seemed to grow as each hour of the night passed on, and the shots he’d been taking to ease his nerves, he still felt rigid, tense, standing in from of gunner. “my problem?” he was nearly stuttering, his mouth running faster than his brain, and that was usually a terrible sign. he found himself fingering the mesh on gunner’s shoulder, enchanted by it and possibly looking for any excuse to avoid eye contact. “i’m happy. i’m so happy, i don’t --” but he knew he didn’t sound particularly happy, and he still wasn’t looking properly at him. jack had a knack for doing this, for messing up anything good. it was one of the main reasons he tried to distance himself from gunner, was always messing things up to buy himself a little time. what was he waiting for? his hands wandered to gunner’s shoulder blades, where they protruded, all of him looking particularly exposed. he’d seen him in less, but he’d always pointedly averted his eyes. he was certainly looking now. “i’ve been looking at you all night,” he scoffed, a pinch of disappointment. “same as everyone else.” he wished he didn’t sound bitter, because his hands were still picking at the mesh, grazing somewhere near his sides now. his mouth twisted into an unreadable line, his eyes a little glazed from the high, when he looked up. “you’re so oblivious, paxton.”

𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 .

Glancing at their surroundings, Gunner let himself smile - a real one, too, something amused as he watched everyone break off. He even waved shyly at some guy who’d approached them earlier in the night, mistaking Gunner for a friend of his little brother’s. It was small, but it was one of the almost unnoticeable differences that’d happened, Gunner needing to be his own person when he didn’t have Jack around to direct conversations for him, “Yeah they’re, uh, they’re really coming in hoards, Jack,” An homage to the way Gunner used to feel whenever even so little as one person would cut into their time. That’s what it’d used to feel like - like there was time where he just existed and then there was time with Jack. It’d been something he’d been ignorant to, but no matter how often it’d happened, it’d always felt like a criminal offence. Jack’s words felt like a challenge. Surely, it hadn’t been that long since they’ve been back together like this properly, Gunner hadn’t changed that much. His hesitant nature was still there, but he was scoffing anyway, glancing at Jack out of his peripheral vision. Cupping hands around his mouth, Gunner tossed his head back and let out a howl, like he was a wolf crying to the moon. It didn’t last long - someone across the street was immediately shouting at him to shut up, obviously startled by the sudden shout, “Fuck, shit, sorry - sorry!” he called back to them, which only earned him a middle finger in response, “Jesus. Maybe I should just leave it to you. I don’t have your charm, can’t… apologize my way out of situations like this,” It wasn’t a jab, or at least it wasn’t meant to be one, but as soon as Gunner said it, he realized he fell into that category. One of the people Jack batted his lashes at, paired with soothing words that eventually coaxed forgiveness out of someone like alcohol did to a person’s deepest secrets. If anything, Gunner was the biggest sucker of them all. He didn’t even have it in him to pretend like he was still bothered in any way, beers making him languid and warm around the other, “You want one?” Gunner repeated, giving Jack an incredulous look that was paired with a smile that made his expression of disbelief all the more obvious, “They require a lot of attention, you know. You’re not allowed to get bored of them in a week,” he teased, though Gunner had never known Jack to tire of the things he cared about in the slightest, “And I’m not a runt,” With a slight stumble, Gunner spun so that he was walking backwards in front of Jack now, up on his tiptoes, “I’m getting taller. I was just a late bloomer. Seriously. Give me a few more months, I’m going to be taller than you,” The eye contact seemed important in his mind, to really prove his point and drive it home. And it was easier, now, up on his toes and hovering at Jack’s height - but after a few seconds, it’d gotten predictably overwhelming. Wordlessly, Gunner dropped back to his normal height, ducking his head like he’d just witnessed something he wasn’t supposed to, “Can I have my key?” he asked, holding his hand out. It’d been something he’d always done - somehow, Gunner was always losing his things, and Jack was always finding them. It’d eventually just gotten easier to shove things that were important into the other’s pockets, and at some point, Gunner had automatically done it at the party, tiring of checking his pockets every five minutes, paranoid.

looking at gunner now, jack found it hard to place him as the guy he’d met at the party carrying around a camera. that gunner had stuck to the walls, had been completely content with letting everyone else have the fun, with watching it. the person he’d come to know over the couple of years  --  had it already been that long?  --  was the center of everything, at least to him. he could walk into a room and vacuum out all the air, like he was stealing it right out of jack’s lungs, and maybe that wasn’t an image he should allow himself to think on for too long. not when he was this intoxicated, uninhibited. he was always being careful around gunner, after the first kiss and the second and the time away, the time he’d spent making up for it, every blow added a wall between them. he hadn’t found the confidence to chip away at it again. maybe jack wasn’t the person everyone thought he was. jack let himself join in the howl, feeling like a proper pack, a shout of a laugh that rumbled in his chest escaping him when he’d finished. his eyes looked crazed, happy, feral. he hadn’t even heard the voice that had shouted back at gunner, and if he had he probably would have told them to eat it. “you could do the same, you know. people like you way more than you think they do. a lot of people.” he shouldered gunner, because it felt more like a confessional than an off handed compliment, and maybe he wanted him to know that. “pretty sure you’re lovell’s finest now, anyway. maybe i’ve taught you too well.” it sounded like an insult, the way he said it, like bile rising in his throat. he was supposed to be happy. “i want one. i don’t know how cats work or anything. i’d need someone to teach me what to do.” at once he felt too close to gunner and not close enough, nearly frozen as they stared at each other, level. he was thankful when gunner dropped back down, unsure what he would have done if he hadn’t. he still had that overwhelming feeling that he was only good at ruining things. he fished into his pocket wordlessly, staring at gunner like they’d both been let in on a secret. the keys came out in his fist, along with a gum wrapper and an old fortune from the chinese he’d ordered. ‘questions provide the key to unlocking our unlimited potential.’ he hated himself a little bit, for not being smart enough to know what to ask. “they might be kind of damp. i was dancing a lot. sweat,” shrugging to accompany the not quite apology. “i’m still really sorry, by the way.” a real apology, but vague, like he wasn’t even sure what he was sorry for, that there was too much he’d done to pin any one betrayal down. just that he  knew  he was. and that he wanted gunner to hear it. “i think it’s pretty cool you’re still hanging out with me. and stuff.”