#baxter radic

Books were closed in a rushed way as the last minutes finally ticked by. It was humid and stuffed in the classroom, the teacher had refused to open a window, making you wave a piece of paper in front of your face.

Your hair felt thick in the back of your neck, and you were tempted to move it up, resiting when remembering the way Harris likes to twirl the strands around his fingers. The Harris who wasn't your boyfriend, but just a good friend. The dynamic of the friend group changed after his crash.

Alicia finally gave into her feelings for Zac, with them bonding over trauma after the race. Caitlyn and Curtis were still warry of the Bowers kid, unsure why the two of you were like two peas in a pod.

You were sad for him after his friends, explicitly Noah, left him alone, who misunderstood his need to get back behind a wheel while his ribs were still hurting and his ankle was still in a cast. You stayed with him - mainly to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself again.

What Harris appreciated mostly, was how non-judgemental you were. You walked out of the classroom and got your stuff from your locker, knowing Harris would be waiting for you outside. He leaned back against his baby blue Porsche, arms crossed over each other. His hair fell slightly over his forehead, partly covering the scar that had sliced through his left eyebrow. Sometimes you saw traits of how he was before - when he watched others with a slightly judgemental scowl on his face.

Harris was dressed in a black shirt and some jeans, the material pulling taut across his chest and biceps. His lips curled up when you approached him. "Hey, there you are," he says, pushing himself off the car. "Hungry?" He asks, walking around to open the door.

"You have no idea," you reply, feeling your stomach rumble after you had skipped the lunch in the cafeteria earlier today. You simply lost all your appetite and settled for the granola bar and apple that had gotten lost in your bag.

You got used to the looks of others when Harris opened your side of the car and let you step in. You remembered the first time you joined him, how you fiddled with the three-point harness of the seat, how he had to kneel beside you to help you and how others were looking as if you were stepping in the car of the devil.

"They can't get used to it, can they," Harris mutters, sitting behind the wheel and starting the engine. "We just deliver their favourite show," you shrug, not bottered by it anymore.

The silence that falls between you feels easy, comfortable and you watch the streets blur by as Harris drivers you both to Wade's. A part of you is relieved to see that no one you know is there. You don't mind when others see you with Harris, you just don't want to be stared at when enjoying a burger.

It's just Brooke behind the counter. She returned from New York several months ago, and yes - she still has a thing for Harris. She greets you with a smize when you enter, and you swear her left eye twitches slightly when Harris follows suit, his hand brushing over your lower back as he nods towards a booth on the right side.

You order the usual, including an extra milkshake to go, which you're likely to share in the car on the way back. "How was your day?" Harris asks, leaning back against the leather seat, your eyes falling to his chest, the denim around his thighs - fully aware he's slightly manspreading and you fit perfectly between them under the table as you cross your left leg over your right at the knee.

"It was okay," you reply with a shrug. "My hayfever's been bugging me," you complain. "Booging you mean," he's sharp, making you chuckle. "Among other things, yes," you reach for a tissue meanwhile. "Yours?" you ask. "I'm offended you didn't notice how clean my car is," Harris sighs, leaning his elbows on the table.

"My sincerest apologies," you brush a hand over your heart. "The interior did smell great, but I thought you had a new cologne or something," you add. "You could've given me a compliment on that," he points out. "You get too cocky when I do that," you say, making him laugh - one of your favourite things in the world. Brooke returns to your table with the food, and he thanks her, giving her a wink.

"You know she's not over you, right?" you say, a grin tugging on your mouth.

"I'm well aware," Harris eyes twinkle a little as he picks up a fry. "I just like seeing your reaction when I flirt with others." Your eyebrows almost rise to the ceiling. "I'm not even going to ask," you lift your hands in defeat.

He's a quick eater, while you're a slow eater, but he never complains. He sits back and watches you enjoy your fries and sip your milkshake, leaning over to steal one every now and then. "Do you want to go for a drive before I drop you off?" he humms, playing with the paper straw in his empty glass.

"Sure," you say, shoving your empty plate further towards the end of the table. "My folks are out of town anyway," you continue, making Harris look up at you again. "Alright, let's go," he pulls the keys of the Porsche from his pocket as well as his wallet, walking up to Brooke to pay for the both of you, as he always did.

You could refuse or offer to pay, but he never wanted you to. It made you wonder how good of a boyfriend he'd be. You know he and Alicia had horrible moments last year and he sometimes left her on her own to race, but he changed now.

Like earlier today, Harris opened your side of the car for you and you got in, the second milkshake in your left hand so you could easily hold it up for him to take a sip during the ride.

The quiet of a spring evening was soon disturbed with the purr of the Porsche's engine. He smooth pull of the car and the vibrations of the source of power in the back have grown to comfort you. Harris was relaxed, which instantly made everything more easy.

He seemed to have given grief a place after his mother passed away and he broke up with Alicia almost a year ago. It wasn't easy to be friends with Harris, as he was often stubborn, and sometimes his arrogant character returned, but he was focused on changing - for you, for himself, for the greater good. "What?" Harris asks, catching you looking at him.

"Nothing," you shrug with a smile. "Come on, tell me," he urges, moving the steering wheel from left to right a couple of times, swerving over the empty roads. It never scared you. You trusted him with your life behind the wheel, something that had felt so unfamiliar to him, as he was used to people not wanting to be his passenger and getting critized for racing all the time. "You're just so... you," you said, still sipping on your milkshake. "I'm so me? A good me?" he humms, leaning his elbow on the door of the car, while the other hand tops the steering wheel.

"Yeah," you reply. "Better than before. You're healing, slowly." Harris briefly looks over at you, the light of the street lanterns flickering over his face. "It's because you've given me time," he replies eventually.

"The others were so pushy. My dad, Alicia, Noah..." Harris says. "Even though you've probably given me a lot of last second chances," he adds. "Too many times," you laugh. A comfortable silence fell between you as he takes a left and is about to reach your neighborhood. "I'm glad you did. I was just a little fucked up," Harris says. "From everything." You nod slowly, not speaking against it. The brakes squeak softly as he stops in front of you house. "Would you want to get back with her?" you hear yourself asking, the silence suddenly overwhelming now the car isn't moving anymore. Harris looks over again, his eyes finding yours in the dark car. "I think Alicia and I should've broken up long before we actually did," he decides to answer. He undoes the three point harness belt of the Porsche and gets out of the car, moving over to your side to open the door and help you with it, eventhough you know exactly how it works. The drag of his fingertips over your leg is subtle, but makes you shiver nevertheless. He undoes it, helping you out of the car.

He's close to you, leaning his hand on the roof of the car while you close the door behind you and lean against it. "Right, nobody home," he points out, nodding over to the dark house at the end of the porch. "That's why I could park here," he grins, teeth biting into his lower lip. Harris' eyes catch yours, and you hold them, suppressing the feeling in your lower abdomen.

"It's late," you speak up, although none of you make an attempt to step away. "Yeah, totally," he replies, his other hand finding the roof of the car next to your head. You're caged in, feeling the heat radiate from his body.

Harris' eyes study your face before he leans further down, his hands dropping to your waist. "We should kiss, right?" he mutters, still awaiting your permission. You close the distance between the two of you, your lips colliding in a firm kiss. Your stomach backflips at the same time, heat traveling through your bloodstream.

"Harris..." you mumble against his mouth, finding no opportunity to speak as he kisses you again. Your fingers disappear into his hair. "I don't want this to ruin our friendship," you blurt out as he kisses your cheek, mouth wandering down to your neck.

The frame of the Porsche presses harder into your back as he's impossibly close, headlights of another car turning into your street making him look up and shield you a little more from any curious eyes. "You've never thought about this?" Harris asks.

His fingers trail over the bare piece of skin on your waist, finding the denim of your jeans soon enough, pulling you towards him again, kissing you. "Too many times," you admit. "Me too," he says. 

There's so much wanting, needing, craving that it ruins your ability to think properly. He leaves it up to you to make the decision, thumb brushing back and forth over your back, letting you know you were safe with him. You take his hand in yours and he lets you guide him to the front door. It's unlocked in a second, and you shake your jacket off your shoulders, putting it up in the hallway.

He knows the way to your room well enough, making him skip up the stairs with two steps at the same time, trailing into your room. You close the door behind yourself again, wasting no time to have him close again.

Harris' lips feel so good on yours, his body feels hot under your palm as you move your hands to his shoulders, to his neck, down his chest. Large hands find the back of your thighs, hoisting you up against himself. Your back hits your mattress, as he drops you gently, hovering over you. His palm presses into the duvet next to your head, a sigh in relief almost audible when you pull him down again.

Your legs curl around his hips, the clothed friction enough to make you gasp softly, reaching for the hem of his shirt. He drags it over his head, hair poofing slightly. You'd seen Harris shirtless countless times before, but in this intimate setting, it suddenly got a different meaning, and every defined piece of skin turned you on.

Clothes were shed quickly, your jeans ending up on the floor next to his, your bra dangled from your hands while his fingertips hooked into your panties. Your heart was palpitating too fast and you almost felt out of breath when you caught Harris' eyes for a second. "Are you okay?" he asked, thumb brushing back and forth on your hip, the pressure of his body atop of yours feeling rather good. "Yeah, you?" you reply, making him nod slowly.

"You're so beautiful," he compliments you, eyes dancing over you. His mouth sloths over yours once more, a moan escaping him when your nails tickle the hair in the nape of his neck.

Harris' hand moves down your body again, palm spreading over your lower abdomen, inching across your pubic bone and slowly reaching the aching spot between your legs. You inhale sharply as his fingertips brush over it before settling for a rhythm with firm, slow circles.

Your eyelids flutter when he kisses your neck, heat rising in your room, the sheets rustling beneath you as your hips meet his touch. The coil in your belly starts to build and you're sure you slowly start loosing your mind when his lips trail down your stomach, teeth nipping playfully at the thin skin over your hipbone before parting your thighs further.

He listens to the sounds you make when his head buries between your legs, sculpted shoulders and arms looking rather delectable from your points of view. The low light on your nightstand casted a golden glow over his tan skin, his hair messy - how it rarely was.

It's hard to stay propped up on your elbows, and you drop back into the pillows as pleasure swirls up your spine. Harris groans at your taste, your whimpers and soft breaths feeding his ego. One of his hands reach up, sliding over your skin and finding your breast, fingertips rolling over a senstive nipple.

His other hand moves between your legs, two fingers circling and spreading the sticky wetness before pushing in gently. Your eyes roll back, your hand flies to his head, pulling on the roots of his hair. The pressure in your abdomen builds, the stimulation peaking and peaking further till it snaps.

Harris looks rather satisfied with himself that he was able to do that, pride filling his chest that you felt comfortable enough. He rises over you, painfully hard in his Calvin's. He takes your chin in his fingers, kissing you deeply. Your bodies clash again, you're unable to stop rolling your hips towards him, feeling him against your bare body.

"Feeling alright?" Harris asks, almost trembling with desire. "God, yes," you fight the urge to dig your teeth into his bicep. "Do you have a condom?" his eyes are dark, pupils large as he hovers over you. You roll over to reach for the drawer of your nightstand, hoping you did. His lips kiss your exposed neck again, your fingers shakily finding the box in the back of the drawer and reaching for one.

The foil flies through your room as he takes it from you, sitting on his knees between your legs as he shoves his Calvin's down his hipbones. You swallow hard at the sight of the girth, feeling small beneath him when his palm presses into the pillow next to your head. It's tender for a second as he caresses your face while sliding home, his other hand finding your hip and slightly adjusting the angle, your walls stretching around him making you shiver with a gasp.

Harris watches you intently, capturing your mouth in a delicious kiss that has your mind spinning soon after. He starts a torture of slow, deep thrusts that causes your toes to curl. Your nails find his shoulders soon enough, making him grunt against your lips. Your breath becomes erratic once more, overstimulated and desperate. His eyes briefly focus on where he's sliding in and out of you, following the line of your stomach up to your perfect breasts, pink nipples that have his mouth running dry at the sight.

His fingertips find your swollen clit, rubbing firm, slow circles that have the stars sparkling behind your eyelids. Harris watches you crumble beneath him, eyes roaming over the faint mark he sucked under your ear, your neck so elegantly exposed. He couldn't get enough of the small whimpers that fell over your lips, your hands struggling to find support on his shoulders. He loves the way his hand fits around your waist.

Nothing could prepare you for the peak your body reached, muscles freezing for a split second before warmth washed all over you, pleasure dotting your vision further. Harris joined you in the state of bliss, looking down at you with hooded eyes and messed up hair. He's sweet as his thumb strokes your cheek after, not saying anything for a couple of minutes. "Do you need anything?" he speaks up. "Can you stay?" you ask, causing the corners of his mouth to rise instantly. "Yeah, I can stay," he says.

You trail your fingertips over the scar in his eyebrow and the other one on his ribs. "I'm getting some water, okay?" he announces after a couple of minutes, slowly getting up. Harris reaches for his underwear and makes his way out of your room to go to the kitchen. He's not surprised to see you followed him down, turning around to find his shirt covering you up, the hem reaching your thighs. He gets another glass from the cabinet, moving around the kitchen as if he lives here. You slide onto the counter, watching your best friend - who you just slept with - stand in front of the sink.

the smile on your face just proved how much of an effect it had on you, knowing that even in his subconscious he was thinking about you, even if it was only slightly.

the way you’d find him what you thought were the prettiest seashells and even though you’d also surf and make sure you had enough food and water for the two of you since you had a feeling he’d steal yours. definitely not because you know how much he loved your cooking.

there was an endless list of things that summer could have listed off to you and she did but even with her trying to give you the kick up the ass that you needed to confess how you felt, it just made you even more anxious. if she found out that you liked him that easily then how obvious was it to him?

so you distanced yourself from him, slowly but you did.

starting with taking longer to reply to his messages or sometimes not even answering them at all.

making your morning surfs more spread out throughout the week, carefully keeping yourself out of arm's reach quite literally.

with stopping everything that was your norm you felt like you almost lost a part of yourself in the process. 

being away from bax took a toll on your mental health even if it had been a couple of weeks, the realisation that the scent of his cologne on your pillow was fading made you sob loudly into your other pillow.

his touch was something that you missed the most. you didn't realise how much he used to before he wasn't able to at all. missing how his body practically wrapped around yours as he hugged you. god you missed his hugs the most.

staying out with the girls definitely eased your pain, even though they didn’t agree with the way you were dealing with this they were still there for you.

it had been just a little over a month of going no contact and even though it had been hard to do with being in the same friend group and all. you still did it.

whenever you'd look over to look at him, he'd already be looking at you. the act made your breath hitch, making you turn away and rejoin the conversation again.

everytime you looked into his big puppy dog eyes you would nearly cave, it was like they were begging for you to come back.

but you didn't!

. . .you may have just stayed in for the night whilst your friends partied or you genuinely would have.

eating your feelings in the middle of the night always helped, well that was before baxter decided to fall through your window nearly making you choke.

“bax? what are you–?” you uttered.

“no you’ve gone this long without talking to me you can wait a little longer, darlin’,” he coaxed as he walked over to your bed, towering over you in the process.

he's not normally one to do this so you just nodded as he sat in front of you, your knees knocking against each other as he did so.

baxter being this close to you after so long made you nervous, there was nowhere for you to run. it was time to face the music. “why have you been avoiding me? i've been trying to give you your space, but…”

“i couldn't go any longer without you, without knowing if it was something that i did wrong.” his eyes were glossy as he looked down at you.

and there it was. the last thing you wanted was for him to think he did something. hed only ever helped you and comforted you. all the guilt and regret came rushing back, the very thing that you had been trying to protect him from with his sisters is what you also made him feel.

leaning over wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into the biggest hug. “i'm so sorry, b. it's not you i promise.” his arms engulfed your waist bringing you even closer to him.

you stayed like that for a while, the two of you not even noticing since you had always been this close.

“god i've missed the way you smell.” he joked as he nuzzled his face into your neck and deeply sniffed, tickling you and making you laugh in the process.

pulling away to go back to sit down again when he pulled you into his lap.

“baxter!” 

“i love it when you say my name.” his voice lower now, all signs of joking were long gone. his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, leaving his hand to sit on your cheek. his thumb draws circles on your heated skin.

“so. why have you been avoiding me?”

your eyes drift away from him, body tensing with anxiety. “hey! it's just me, you can trust me.”

timidly glancing back at him. “i can't pretend anymore.”

he gives you a reassuring smile for you to continue.

“i'm in love with. . .you.”

“oh. my. god. the reason why you haven't talked to me in a month is because you love me?” he questioned, his grip loosened on you making your heart drop.

“yes.”

before you could say anything else he tackles you onto your back and begins to tickle you. 

you laugh so hard that you’re out of breath as he continues to relentlessly tickle you. 

he eventually stops, chuckling at your breathless state, “you- you little shit! ive been in love with you forever! ever since i met you at that surf shop to be exact.”

he was now hovering over you, arms either side of you trapping you in.

“you have?”

“yes!”

“why didn't you say something?” 

he deadpans as if the answer was obvious.

“okay, okay fair.”

silence takes over the two of you. “so what now–?”

he leans down, closing the space between you, his lips brushing yours. the initial shock dissolves as you melt into the kiss, your hands running up his torso to rest on his chest. he pulled away only to not get too far as you tugged him closer to leave long pecks on his lips, making him smile into them.

“damn you can't get enough of me already?” he playfully wiggles his eyebrows at you making you laugh.

you felt stupid for doing what you did, but extremely happy with the outcome.

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