Can't Help Who I Fall For

In the span of the month between the last football game and Alex’s birthday, things had been weird, to say the least. The first couple of days after the incident were hard for Alex. Meaning that since I was the only one that knew what had happened, they were equally as hard for me. Calls in the middle of the night when he had had nightmares, quickly ushering him away from Oli whenever we saw him at school, and just generally comforting him were some of the activities I had partaken in.

What was weird was that after about that first week, it all just stopped. The first night that I didn’t get a call at around three in the morning, I was pretty happy for two reasons: one, I had assumed that meant he had slept through the night, and two, it was getting harder for me not to fall asleep in class. But at about the same time, he almost grew distant from me. It started with him getting angry whenever I asked him how he was doing.

The truthful answers he had given me before had quickly and unexpectedly turned into a short, snappy response of, “I’m fine, Jack.” It threw me off guard at first, but I soon noticed that if I didn’t up Oli or what happened, he was the same happy guy that I had started dating.

It worried me that he had gone from being completely upset, almost to the point of devastation, to not showing any emotion about what had happened. I didn’t want Alex to hold everything in and let it eat at him, but I realized rather quickly that I had no say on how he dealt with it. I had attempted to bring up my opinion to him over the phone one night, but it resulted in him becoming agitated and hanging up on me. I do have to say, him doing that stung, but I tried not to let it bother me or effect our relationship. This was a hard time for him, and he needed me for support, not to tell him what to do.

By the time the weekend of the 14th came around and Alex was completely back to his normal, confident self, I held my tongue when he flinched at the overly tight hug I gave him. I let him drag me up to his bedroom after an obligatory conversation with his parents that was somehow less awkward than when he met my dad, and after arguing about him wanting to take me out for his birthday, we settled for a short break.

I didn’t completely freak out when he brought up going further than kissing.

At first I was going to say no. Even though we’d been together for a pretty decent amount of time and all of my trust in him had been regained, I was still really nervous about exposing myself like that. I found it endearing how hesitant he was to even ask—it was like he was scared of what I would do. I realized in that moment that the only thing stopping me from doing it was the mental roadblock I had set up. He didn’t have to tell me that he wasn’t going to break up with me for not putting out because I already knew. I knew that he wanted to be in a relationship with me because he liked me as a person and not as a body to fuck. This realization is what had me saying yes.

And oh, dear god, I did not regret it. I was scared at first, of course. When he slipped my boxers around my thighs, it was the first time someone had seen me naked since I was a toddler that needed help bathing. I also found that I wanted him to be impressed. I wanted my body to turn him on just as much as his was for me.

After I got over all of that inner turmoil and fear and let myself enjoy Alex’s hand, I realized that it was easily the best I’d ever felt. I never knew that someone would feel so much better than my own hand. When he started talking to me, that just made it feel even better. I never thought I’d be one to like dirty talk (it had always seemed so filthy to me), but it was really what finished me off.

I started to feel sheepish again after it was over. I had just let myself go when he was doing it, but afterwards I felt completely self-conscious. I was so worried that I had made a fool of myself by making too much noise or not lasting long enough. At the same time, though, I had another thought. I wanted to make Alex feel just as good.

“You don’t owe me anything, alright?” he had tried to reassure me, but somehow I think that I knew that. I just wanted him to feel the same bliss I had. I knew he had done this before and that he wasn’t a virgin, but that made me want to prove myself even more. He needed to know that I was better than anyone else he’d been with; that I was worth staying with.

So I went for it. It was weird at first. I’d never seen another dick before, much less a hard one, and I couldn’t help but stare at it for a moment before I realized how embarrassing that was. What was even stranger was having it in my hand. It didn’t feel like mine; it was a little bit longer, but also thinner. I had also noticed that Alex started moving around almost instantly. At first that was a definite ego boost, but not long after, I realized something was terribly wrong.

“Jack,” he whimpered, “st-st-stop!”

I immediately pulled back and watched in horror as he curled up into a ball.

“Lex? Pumpkin?” I asked hesitantly, reaching out to put my hand on his back.

He violently flinched at my touch and scooted further away on the bed. “Please, don’t touch me,” he cried.

I didn’t know what to do or how to help him, so all I could do was sit back and watch him. I could tell that he was breathing heavily, and it almost sounded like he was crying. I didn’t understand what had happened. Everything was going so great, right? What could have possibly happened to trigger this?

Then it hit me. Oli touched Alex. Then I touched Alex. It all made sense. He probably had a flashback or something. I felt so bad. Originally he just wanted to make me feel good, but I just had to try to return the favor.

“Alex?” I said hesitantly, keeping my distance this time. “It’s okay; you’re okay. He’s not here, and he’s not going to hurt you.”

When he didn’t respond, I started to get a little more worried. I didn’t know if it was helping, but I kept going.

“We-we’re in your room, remember?” I took a deep breath to steady myself. “We’re the only one’s here. I’d never hurt you, you know that, right? I could never hurt you because I—” love you, “—care about you a lot. I could never even try to because you mean that much to me, okay, Lex?”

I stopped talking altogether when he continued to be unresponsive. I was really starting to get scared. What if it’s something more serious than I had originally thought? How am I supposed to help him when I could only guess what was happening? I felt so useless and small.

A few moments of silence had passed before I heard him try to say something to me. It came out as an out of breath whisper, but I heard it nonetheless. “K-k-k-keep tal-l-king.”

I drew in a sharp breath. What else was I supposed to say? I’d never been very good at this type of thing, so I just didn’t know.

“Um—okay,” I stammered. “Er... do you remember when we first started talking?” I asked, sort of as a way to keep his mind off of Oli. “We were partnered for that English project, and I was so nervous that I completely ignored you. And when you introduced me to Franceschi, he told me you had a massive crush on me, and we started dating like five hours later?”

I heard him take a deep breath, which I figured was a good sign because he’d previously been breathing a lot shallower. “And then everything went to shit and Oli tried to steal you away,” he continued for me, still sounding distressed.

“But he didn’t, did he?” I reached over to gently card my fingers through his slightly damp hair. “He never meant even half as much to me as you do.”

He lifted his head up and stared at me with watery eyes. “Really?”

I smiled at him; still trying to stay calm whilst freaking out on the inside. “Of course. How could he ever mean more to me? He’s just a prick, and you’re you.”

He sighed and averted his eyes, which made me frown.

“Pumpkin,” I continued, “I know you think that by lying to me all those months ago that you’re no better than him, but, Alex, ever since we properly met, all you’ve tried to do was make me happy, and that makes you a million times better than him.”

Alex said nothing, but instead crawled over to me and leaned into my side, laying his head down on my shoulder. I couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He was still occasionally sniffling, but all together he seemed a lot better than before. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and gently rubbed his chest.

“You know,” Alex said quietly after a few minutes, “me and Oli used to be closer than Josh and I are now. We were best friends, and now he’s trying to ruin my life. Which is whatever, I just hate that he’s succeeding.”

I involuntarily tightened my grip on his shoulders. “He’s not,” I countered. “What he did to you was awful, and I hate him for it, but he most certainly isn’t winning. You’re still living, and you’re still happy. And I will kill him myself if he ever so much as looks at you in a funny way.”

He lifted his head up and looked at me again. “Angel, it means a lot to hear you say that,” he smiled at me, “but I think a wet noodle would be more useful in a fight…”

“Shut up.” I started laughing. I don’t know if it was his lame joke that made me laugh, or if I was just relieved that for right now everything was okay again, but I found myself giggling uncontrollably.

“But seriously, Jay,” Alex said after I calmed myself down, “thank you for this.”

“Of course,” I responded. “You might be the charming, hopeless romantic in this relationship, but I’d still do anything to make you smile.”

His face turned red, and I felt his arm wrap around my waist. “Cuddle?” he asked innocently. Or, as innocently as he could be, given the fact that we were both still nude.

Nevertheless, I nodded and smiled at him.

After we were tucked underneath his blanket, Alex curled up into my chest and draped an arm over my side. I smiled and hooked my chin over his head and wrapped an arm around his upper body.

Neither of spoke as we laid there. I actually think that Alex fell asleep after a few minutes—not that I could blame him. Being alone, though, opened up my mind to a new, possible problem that I didn’t know was a thing until I was comforting him.

Did I really love Alex? Or did I just think that because I’d been watching too many cheesy daytime TV shows? Either way, I was glad I didn’t say it out loud; that wasn’t a conversation that we needed to have with everything else going on.

I knew that I trusted Alex. I trusted him a lot; enough to let him see me in my most vulnerable state. And I knew he trusted me enough to help him when he was in his. But when did trust translate into love? If it turned out I was in love with him, would he feel the same? What if he didn’t? That could be devastating.

Maybe it’d be best for me to keep these possible feelings to myself for a while… At least until I work them out… And then maybe a little longer…

Notes