REPRESSION

THIS WAS WHAT HE HATED ABOUT JASON THE MOST : FISTS CLENCHED, FIGHTING WORDS, BUT NO REAL FOLLOW-THROUGH. it made him laugh, utterly amused with the other man's attempts at verbal assault. he would have to get real close and personal if he wanted francis to actually agonize over some smack talk. the heir was mostly desensitized to it all now ; had his first tabloid appearance when he was sixteen and had to personally translate every vile thing said about him since it was written in romansh. if jason wanted to feel something, then he'd do better punching him in the fucking face. that ... or the truth. and francis wasn't too difficult to read, left around a disordered trail of ammunition to be used against him. " if i wanted a show, i'd just strip off in front of a mirror. i have high standards ... not really into roided up jocks and their shriveled-up balls. " tongue clicked, feigning offense that jason would ever think so lowly of him. but as always, francis wymack rarely ever stopped where he should. he flashed his teeth in a nick of a smile, dangerously puckish. " if you weren't so fucking uptight ────── " he paused to give jason a quick once-over, then a calculated sigh of frustration. " i think you'd be my type. you have real nice arms, y'know ? the kind so perfect to hold onto when you're being fucked well and deep. " so nonchalant in how each word rolled off his tongue, mostly true but being so usually full of shit worked wonders for him. people could hardly tell whether he was joking or not, never taken too seriously. especially with the small laugh that came after which made it sound like it was all in jest. " but you're pathetically repressed so ... i don't think you'll ever have sex with anyone. " he lifted a hand up, planted on jason's chest for a second or two before giving him another push. " i'm bored. where should we go ? "

"why, exactly, would we be going anywhere? i'm going back to my dorm to get changed, which you are not sticking around for."

ACTIONS WERE EVER RARELY PURPOSEFUL, GUIDED BY SOBER WHIM HALF THE TIME AND INTOXICATED IMPULSE THE OTHER. but there were a few people that seemed to be somehow exempted to all his terrible patterns and routines, same old shitty things but done with intention. though, he wouldn't call jason a pet project. it was really more like sharpening the knife that his murderer would use to eviscerate him ! he didn't really mind the potential harm of his antics as long as jason showed him something real for once. so he knowingly bumped into a distracted jason, a flash of feigned annoyance as soon as their eyes met. " watch where the fuck you're going, asshole. " he shoved jason, then cue the francis wymack special eye roll as he pretended to dust all traces of the other man off him !!! " i'm not particularly fond of getting people's sweat on me unless i'm sleeping with them. " he scoffed. but he was really surprised that jason went to the gym ────── he might be stupid, but he wasn't blind. and he had caught himself staring once or twice before. " the fuck were you doing in there anyway ? " he asked, so great at playing ignorance. " don't tell me you're one of those creeps that lurk ' round the locker rooms to watch people change ? look, i know you're not getting any action but jason, jason, jason ... you don't have to stoop this low. "

he wasn't him. he wasn't. he couldn't be and he wouldn't be.

The gym was mostly empty, save for a few scattered individuals. Archie noticed Jason, who seemed focused and was venting his frustration on a nearby punching bag. Observing for a few moments, Archie recognized the all-too-familiar expression and body language. Once Jason seemed finished, Archie approached him, accidentally bumping into him. "You're fine," he reassured Jason, offering a small smile. "You okay?"

"I'm good. Just... Working through something." Had everybody received the messages? Was there a target specifically on his back? Tipping his hand too early seemed like another dangerous game. Another risk to manage, another source of stress, but he could handle that. Handle this.

"what do they call people that do that professionally? handlers? i think you can make a good career out of that for the future." if he had to assume why jason was so good at that was because he had to do it in the past. was someone in his family not the best? did he have to clean up after himself? kalen was going to have to keep close to him. not necessarily to figure out why, because that was a good person to have on your side. "i can't have the rest of you coming back home to a messy or broken house." while the other was used to cleaning up after others, he was used to fixing things before they even became problems.

"it's either handler or fixer, I think. what's a more professional way of saying it, like, crisis management?" why he knew that was entirely because of television, but the moment the other mentioned it he felt a little too flagged. it wasn't even like he'd be bad at it, considering his usual penchant for just... doing what needed to be do- he needed to stop considering a sudden career change. he let a brief laugh escape as the other mentioned not having them come back to somewhere messy. "so what I'm hearing is the other cabins are absolutely gonna end up run down by the end of the week."

Spring break was River's favorite for two reasons: midnight joyrides and skinny dipping. Well, three. No classes. Not like he attended many anyway. The sun was high in the sky, afternoon, and River's car was parked off the road. It had been a short hike to the creek, and there hadn't been a soul in sight. River felt eyes on the back of him as he lit his cigarette, causing a smattering of goosebumps to erupt across his skin. A brief thought crossed his mind. The killer. A chill air blew at his neck. The wind. With an exhale of smoke, River turned, eyeing the newcomer. Here he thought he was going to have some peace. Away from school, away from the fear that hung over it like a dark cloud. River's gaze settled, cigarette between his fingers, flicking ash. "Are you joining or should I start saying my prayers?" River asked, head tilting slightly, adding some levity to the whisper of anxiousness he felt.

"You're the sort to pray?" The question came out before Jason could fully bite his tongue, a brief flicker of an apologetic smile crossing his lips afterward, before shaking his head. "Neither, I was just... Getting away from it all."

SHOCKED ! APPALLED ! so incredibly self-aware of all his red flags that if he started listing them now, he knew they'd be stuck here till dawn. it was a miracle anyone liked him at all ( willing to chalk it up to his money, because what else would it be ? ) . and yet, francis still looked particularly ticked off at the implication that he wasn't jason's type. the other man could be strictly heterosexual for all he cared, but he always thought his charm transcended normal conventions. like sex and the city to metrosexuals. " oh boy ... we all know you keep your real thoughts locked somewhere in there────── " a quick little pause, another step closer, one hand reaching up to ruffle jason's hair. and he smiled with that self-taught confidence, a little bit rehearsed but sweet enough. he had used it so many times to get anything he wanted. " you don't ever have to lie to me when it's just the two of us. everyone wants to kiss me, and that's fine, " he leaned in to whisper, the proximity between their faces only a few inches apart now. HE PROBABLY WOULDN'T REMEMBER THIS IN THE MORNING ; had a very important appointment in his room with a couple bottles of westvleteren 12 once they get back, but there was something genuine about his words. and he didn't even care that it all sounded terribly hypocritical since he liked to lie, but francis preferred it when people were just true to themselves. he stepped back to give jason some room to breathe, a small respite from this PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE. still, index finger still remained firmly pressed on the other man's sternum ────── a small chuckle when he realized he could vaguely feel jason's heartbeat. " but if you won't tell me your type, then i guess i'll just have to figure it out myself. " shoulders lightly shrugged with a crooked smile on his lips, lightheartedly threatening. " there's a whole lot of whores in this school, y'know ? girls, boys, whatever. and i can sic a whole bunch of ' em on you ... see who sticks. "

he wished it was that easy. being honest. being bare to somebody. anybody. expose all of the mess n his head, but no. despite the heat that wanted to build across his features when that face came so close to his own, he pushed it down. pushed it back. stuffed himself away like he was an after thought, but the other just... kept the contact. the threat did, at least, get a laugh, and a shake of his head. "you can try, I guess? doubt it'd work out. I know you've got the cash to splash but that really would be a waste." his heart remained running like a rabbit beneath the heirs fingers, even as he let another breath slip free. "we done? clearly spoiled my chance at clearing my head."

📸 via Piper's Instagram

THE REACTION TO THE QUESTION WAS COMPLETELY VISCERAL, something in his eyes made him look a cornered animal, caught in an unexpected moment of vulnerability. his scoff was caustic, a sour frown as he looked at jason in disbelief. " ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID ?! ' course i miss him. " he recognized that the other man was probably just trying to offer a shoulder to lean on if he wanted to talk about his dead friend, but grief felt too personal for francis. it felt like people were trying to pry into the gray matter of his brain whenever they asked about marcus. the weed felt futile now, all of his nerves frayed by one simple fucking question. he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath ────── francis didn't want to hurt jason, he would never hurt jason, but it almost seemed like he had to pull himself away from the precipice of ... something. THEN, HE OPENED HIS EYES ONCE AGAIN AND SMILED ! if some big hollywood director was casting the role of a stepford smiler right now, francis might just get a callback if he auditioned. " ' NUFF ABOUT ME, LET'S KEEP TALKING ABOUT YOU ... " he had a lighthearted smirk on his lips but the look in his eyes was frighteningly stubborn. like jason owed him some amusement for trying to squeeze some sincerity out of him just a few seconds ago. " like i said, i wouldn't judge you for trying to get laid. " he circled back, in a mood to see the other man stutter and squirm some more. and whatever space jason created between them, francis stepped into it once more. " c'mon. i'm curious ────── WHAT'S YOUR TYPE ? " the question felt charged with every assumption had about jason, sounding like he already knew all the answers. " i think people assume you'd be into those women's studies majors, strong and independent type of girls that will step on you and make you beg for the strap. but ... " he paused, head cocked as he clicked his tongue and pressed a finger against jason's chest. " i think what you want is someone who you could just unleash all that pent-up frustrations on. like an animal in heat ... BUT WHAT THE HELL DO I KNOW ? "

he was at least better prepared this time, for the other to swing the game in a direction jason clearly had less pieces on the board for. a subject that had him on the back foot in every way. the comments, the contact, the context, all of it had his head spinning in a way that felt completely on the other's part… which it clearly was. clearly the other wouldn't hurt him, but boy did he enjoy putting him in this situation. "why? you trying to set me up, or you hoping I'll say you are?" it's about as best he can muster with the dwindling space, with the increasing proximity. some vague attempt at a deflection before his pulse raced a little too high. "cause either way it's a pass." he doubted anybody wanted damaged goods, and he didn't have the time to fix himself.

FRANCIS MIGHT NOT BE COHERENT HALF THE TIME , BUT HE WASN'T NAIVE ENOUGH NOT TO SEE HIS OWN RED FLAGS. he was a suspect ! for murdering his friend ! and he really understood why. but he still didn't take kindly to being called out for suspicious behavior — especially by someone could have also done the job. but anything could probably set francis off these days ; he could smoke a cigarette and still get defensive if someone asked why it smelled like tobacco. " damn , are you going to start PSYCHOANALYZING every word i say now ? " he clicked his tongue , his gaze brimming with trouble as he walked closer to jason and pushed his shoulder with just enough force that he could still excuse it as playful. but it was difficult to tell whether he actually held any real disdain or if he was just testing people's limits. sometimes he just wanted to feel them fight back. " alright then. tell me if this sounds suspect ────── SUCK ... MY ... DICK ! " a brief pause before he flashed his pearly white teeth , a grin so proud and lopsided. he really thought he did something. " you sound awfully defensive right now. c'mon , i wouldn't judge you for trying to get laid ... " francis pointed out despite knowing full well that jason wasn't the type to actually roam around some place looking for someone to fuck. it even felt a little SADISTIC to watch jason stutter and lose some composure ; like he was taking advantage of someone who would just roll... over and die before they'd even think about biting back. a small whine escaped francis when the other man declined his offer to smoke , lips pouted only for a brief moment then brought the joint tucked between his fingers to his lips. " MORE FOR ME THEN ... " francis lit the spliff and took a long indulgent inhale ────── and he almost immediately felt lighter , smiling easily at jason. he just really needed this. dark smoke billowed from his mouth as he slowly , lazily exhaled ; hand outstretched between them , the joint pinched between his fingers so jason knew the offer was still there if he changed his mind. " i used to do this marcus , y'know ? we'd get high and talk shit about everyone. " odd how he recognized a tinge of sadness in his own voice but he quickly brushed it off with a laugh. " guess i gotta find a new buddy. "

"bullshit." judgement was all people had for him. francis wasn't an exception to the weight of expectation, just a lesser weight of it. thankfully, the shift in conversation meant he could adjust again. create space. breathe for a second. the sound of a lighter sparking to life soon faded out for the stillness of the lake again. or, well, what stillness remained ignoring whatever parties people were trying to pull off. "'cause I'm sure it'll be a real struggle to find somebody else to smoke with." it's only after the almost ingrained retort escaped that he registered the twinge in the other's tone. was it his place? to offer some- "you miss him, don't you?"