No more than half a week later and the right side of Jack’s face was bruised black and blue. It made my blood boil in my veins, knowing that his own father had done it; that there was nothing I could’ve done to stop it or make it better; that Jack insisted on lying to his mother about how he’d gotten so banged up. Instead of merely telling her the truth, he told her that he’d accidentally rolled off the side of his bed and hit his face on his side table.

The stuttering he accounted for by saying that he was just embarrassed to have done something so stupid.

I tried my hardest to get him to talk to her about what had happened, practically begged him to file a police report for assault against a minor, but he wasn’t budging on the subject because, “I don’t want to lose you over something like this. It’s just a bruise; it’ll go away.”

Of course, it was obvious to me that he didn’t actually feel that way about it. The day after the incident had occurred, the day where the mark became truly evident, he’d done his best to hide it from me.

“I don’t think that we should hang out today,” he said, voice sounding shaky and weak.

“Why?” I asked. I was just about to step through my front door to head over to his place. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, no,” he said. I could practically hear his teeth press into his bottom lip before he was taking a deep breath and continuing. “Everything’s fine. I’m just a little sick, and I don’t want you to catch it.”

I laughed and shook my head before continuing out toward my car. “Angel, I don’t care if you’re sick. It just gives me a reason to take care of you. Why wouldn’t I wanna coddle you until you’re better? As your boyfriend, it’s my job to do things like this. Do you need me to pick anything up on my way? Do you have a fever?”

“No, Alex, seriously,” he huffed. “You really don’t have to come here. I’ll be fine. Mom’ll be home soon anyway, and she’ll take care of me.”

“I’m comin’ whether you like it or not,” I said, tone firm. “Just relax, alright? I love you, and I wanna take care of you. I’ll stop at the store and grab some things for you. Soup, crackers, lavender bubbles, and stuff for whatever’s wrong. You gotta tell me what you’re feelin’ first. I don’t just wanna grab a bunch of shit you don’t need.”

“I don’t need any—why would you buy bubbles?” he asked.

“Because a nice, warm bubble bath with lavender-scented bubbles would make you feel good,” I explained easily. “Seriously, babe, what do you need? Do you have a fever? Headache? Sore throat? Lemme know. You should probably text it all to me so I don’t forget, alright? I’ll be over in half an hour. I love you.”

He mumbled something I couldn’t hear, but he did return the ‘I love you’ before hanging up. With another shake of my head, I climbed into the front of my car and began my journey.

He’d only texted me that day to let me know that he didn’t need any medications because there were more than enough in the medicine cabinets—the one in the kitchen as well as the ones in both bathrooms—but he didn’t object to the soup, crackers, and bubbles I insisted on.

He did still put up a fight on actually agreeing to me showing up, but after five minutes of pleading with him from outside his front door, he’d opened it up for me. His teeth were pressed into his bottom lip, and his hair was arranged so that it covered the side of his face. The damage was still clearly visible, and even though I wasn’t truly the best at it, I pretended that I didn’t even notice it.

With a simple, “Hey, handsome,” and a gentle kiss to the marks that had been left behind, I was squeezing my way through the door and heading into the kitchen to set down my bag of goods. It really didn’t take much for me to realize that he wasn’t actually sick (he even felt the need to tell me only a few minutes into my visit), but that didn’t stop me from catering to his every nonexistent whim.

I made him soup, I cuddled him while we watched a few Tim Burton movies, and I drew him a warm bath with the bubbles I’d bought. He’d been a little hesitant in letting me stay in the room because, “You’ve never seen me not, y’know, turned on and stuff”, but with the reminder that we’d already showered together, which had been perfectly innocent, he agreed.

We’d both been silent as he’d undressed and sunk down into the water. I only moved closer once I knew he’d settled comfortably, seating myself on the tile next to the bathtub and reaching out my left hand to let it card through his hair. We didn’t need to say anything to know that we were on the same page as each other, and the shy smile he sent my way as my fingers absentmindedly caressed his cheek was enough to let me know that I hadn’t fucked anything up.

Since then, I’d taken to doing the same things—calling him “handsome” at every chance that presented itself as well as kissing or gently sweeping my fingers along the bruised skin. Sometimes I didn’t even realize I was doing it. It was those times when I’d think about how the boy I loved had been physically hurt by someone who was supposed to care for him, and then I’d get a little too angry and touch just a little too roughly. He’d always push me away if I did, which would lead to me returning to the real world where I’d apologize and go back to being delicate, and then the cycle would more often than not repeat itself.

Thankfully, it had started to heal. Not so thankfully, it had become a gut-wrenching mix of browns, greens, and yellows. He’d tried even harder to hide it from me, but in response I’d simply given him a deep kiss before letting him know that I still thought he was the handsomest boy I’d ever been lucky enough to lay my eyes on and that just because he was temporarily damaged didn’t change the fact that I loved him.

He’d smiled but called me disgustingly sappy.

Now, of course, he isn’t smiling.

“It’s New Years, baby! Come on, I know you wanna go out to a party or something! Who doesn’t?” I whined. He was sitting on one end of the couch, I on the other. Jack’s arms were crossed stubbornly over his chest and his head was turned away from me. With almost no thought at all, I was flopping forward onto the couch and wriggling my way toward him so that my head was in his lap.

“I don’t want to,” he countered with a shake of his head. “People are gonna take one look at me, and then they’re gonna make fun of me. Some asshole might even try and beat me up to get a good laugh from his friends. ‘Hey, look at that Barakat kid, too weak to defend himself!’ If you want to go, I’m not gonna stop you, but I don’t want to go.”

“Baby,” I said gently. I realized that I had to change my tactic. With a turn of the head and a lift of the hands, I was able to press a sweet kiss to the skin that presented itself from beneath his shirt. “No one will make fun of you, baby. If anyone even tries to lay a finger on you, I’ll beat them up before they get the chance. Come on, please? We haven’t been very social lately. Don’t you wanna get one good party in before school starts back up in, like, a week? We can go, stay for as long as you want, and then we can leave whenever you’re ready. The second you want to leave, we’ll be out the door. I promise.”

That seemed to do it for him, and with a sigh, he was looking down at me. His arms uncrossed themselves next, and he allowed the fingers of his right hand to tangle in my hair as his left rested against my chest.

“Just a little bit?” he asked quietly. When I nodded, he sighed. “Fine, but if you try and convince me to stay any longer than I want to leave, I’m not giving you anymore kisses until school does start.”

I couldn’t help the grin that overtook my lips as I nodded my agreement. “Awesome. Ramsay throws this killer party every year, ‘cause apparently Canadians know how to party harder or some bullshit like that, and I told him that I’d let him know if we’d be joining or not. That should make you feel better, right? Ramsay, Franceschi, and Monster will all be there. I’m sure Zack and Rian will be, too. You should text them and let ‘em know about it.”

He gave a smile back before his hips were pressing up and he was reaching into his back pocket out to grab his phone.

“It’s nearly five now,” he noted before his fingers began to fly across the digital keys, “so maybe we should start getting ready. Help me pick out what to wear? Something that’ll make my face less noticeable.”

“But, baby,” I said as I stood to my feet and held my hands out for him to take. He was pulled to his feet and then into my arms before I continued. “Your face is one of my favorite things about you.”

He scoffed, rolled his eyes, smiled, and then leaned in to kiss me. “I like your face, too.”

---

No more than five hours later and I was well past the point of intoxicated. As stupid as it may sound, I was so intoxicated that I’m pretty sure I was thinking clearer than ever before. Jack had loosened up as well once he’d noticed that no one cared how he looked (which might’ve been because I’d sent a warning text out while he was getting dressed, saying that if anyone pointed out his bruises they’d have a nice matching set of their own before the new year could even be rung in), but he hadn’t drank nearly as much as I had.

He’d loosened up so much, in fact, that he was more than eager to grind with me among the mass of other teens that flooded the house. It was a little awkward, what with him being just barely taller than me, but that didn’t matter. My lips left kisses along his neck as we all but dry humped in the middle of the crowd. No one tried to stop us.

No one tried to stop us as Jack spun around to pull my face closer to his, our lower halves rolling against each other and our tongues tangling between our mouths. No one tried to stop us as I broke away and latched onto Jack’s wrist, pulling him from the jumping bodies and toward a deserted area near the corner. No one tried to stop us as I pushed my boyfriend against the wall there, nor as I reached down to begin to undo his pants, more than willing to give him a hand job right there where we could be caught by anyone.

Only, just as I got the button popped and was able to reach inside to grab his dick, Jack was putting a hand on my chest and pushing me back a step.

“Gotta… I need a bathroom,” he explained. “I just need to—I’ll be back in a second, okay? Don’t go anywhere, and then maybe we could find somewhere more private, okay?”

I nodded and stepped aside to let him pass, calling out an, “I love you,” even though it was pretty obvious he didn’t hear me (or understand me) over the pounding bass. My eyes watched him through the haze caused by both vape pens and weed as he climbed the stairs in search of the bathroom. As soon as he was out of my sight, I was leaning myself back against the wall he’d been pressed against and allowed my eyes to slip closed.

In what seemed like virtually no time at all, his lips were pressing back against mine. His kisses felt more desperate than they had before he’d left, but I didn’t question it and instead kissed back with the same amount of passion. We stayed like that for no more than a few seconds. Before my lungs could even lose all of their built up oxygen, he was pulling back and slipping his hand into mine.

I didn’t bother asking where we were going and just let him lead me through the people that surrounded us. Up the stairs and down the hall we went, until we reached what appeared to be Ramsay’s own room. There was no time at all to comment on how pissed off Ramsay would be if he found out that we were going to use his room to get each other off. By the time I had even considered to make a comment, the door was being shut, I was being pushed against it, and the lock was clicking into place.

No time was wasted before his hands dropped to fumble my jeans open. His mouth suctioned itself to my neck, sucking harshly to coax the blood in my veins to the surface. With a hum, my head fell back and smacked against the wood I was leaned on. Jack paused at that before he was pulling me away from it and pushing me onto the bed across the room.

My hands crossed behind my head as he went back to slipping my jeans down. Except, the only problem was the fact that he couldn’t seem to get them much further down than mid-thigh, leaving not much but my dick out in the open.

“Remember when I sucked your cock, baby?” I asked, more to the ceiling than to my struggling boyfriend. “God, you looked so fuckin’ hot. You gonna do that to me now? Gonna suck my dick? Bet you’d look so good. You always look good, angel. Want you to sit on my face after. Fuck, I could go down on you for hours. You sound so good, you look so good, you—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, just loud enough for me to detect it. That, of course, pulled a very unmanly giggle from deep in my chest. Through the dim lighting of the room I could see him glance up at me, which was soon followed by a hushed, “What’s so funny?”

“You can just call my dick Jesus,” I explained, having to bite at my tongue so that I didn’t laugh any more than I already was. “It’s rising, it’s coming, and it’s gonna fulfill your kingdom.”

He hummed and reached out to wrap a hand around my dick, letting it slide up and down at a slow, teasing pace. “You gonna let me sit on your face and your dick? How’d I get so lucky? Gonna use our spit as lube, then let me ride you bareback? Gonna come inside me?”

“Shit, yeah,” I breathed back, a chuckle pushing its way from my throat. I placed his sudden, dirty confidence on the fact that he’d had some drinks.

It was as I got myself in a comfortable position to watch him as best as possible through the darkness that there was a series of loud bangs on the door, followed by my name being called. To me, it was much funnier than it should’ve been.

“Sh,” I hushed my boyfriend, holding up a finger to my lips. “They won’t know we’re in here if you don’t say anything.”

“Alex, baby, can you hear me? Open the door,” Jack said, and that had my eyebrows furrowing together on my forehead.

My prior words were tossed to the wind as I called back, “Jack, what’re you doin’ out there? Get back in here. You were just gonna…”

“Open the door, Alex. You have to unlock the door. Can you do that for me? Are you okay? Answer me, babe, lemme know you can hear me,” he demanded.

“How’re you doin’ that?” I mumbled back, glancing down at the Jack between my legs, his breath washing against the tip of my dick as he leaned in.

Jack glanced up at me for a moment. His mouth opened wider (whether to swallow me down or answer me, I haven’t the slightest clue), and then the door was crashing in on its hinges. Both of us jumped in shock, and I looked up to be met by Jack rushing to the side of the bed.

“Baby, how’d you get out there? You were just—”

“We’re leaving,” he said reaching out to push other Jack away. Franceschi and Merrick weren’t far behind, and they were quick to grab the other Jack from the bed to pin him to the wall. I watched on in my drunken confusion as the newest Jack reached out to stuff my dick back into my pants. “Come on, baby, we’re gonna go back to mine. Do you think you can walk?”

“Stop, Jack, what’re they—hey, leave him alone. What the fuck, guys?” When the first fist came into contact with the side of other Jack’s face, which just so happened to be thrown by my own best friend, I was stumbling to my feet and rushing forward. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’? Get the fuck off my boyfriend!”

“Alex, pumpkin,” new Jack started, and then I was turning on my heel to face him. Only my Jack would call me that. “Come on, pumpkin. It’s time to go now. I wanna go home. Remember what you promised me? You said that as soon as I was ready to leave, we could. I’ll drive, alright? Gimme the keys so that we can go back to my place.”

I probably looked like a lost puppy, following behind the first person that was able to guess my name correctly. New Jack led me from the room with quiet promises and a soft hand wrapped around my own. As we were heading back downstairs, another group of people was heading up. They seemed to be arguing with each other and simply by-passed me and new Jack.

We reached the outside of the house without any detours, and the same happened with the journey to my car. New Jack slipped the keys to it from my back pocket and helped me around to the passenger side before he moved back around to the driver’s side.

As the car was started up, I came to a sudden realization. “Jack,” I started, looking over to my boyfriend, “I’m still hard… and horny.”

“I know you are, baby,” he answered with a sigh. “Maybe if you’re good on the way back to the house, I’ll fix it for you, okay?”

I could feel the lopsided, lazy simper that took over my face as I asked back, “You gonna suck my cock?”

“Nah,” he dismissed easily, “but I’ll still make it all better.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Notes

i didn't forget about this or anything
school and work are just literally running me dry
i haven't even been in class for two whole weeks yet lmao this semester is gonna be lots of fun
anyway
i'll try and post the last few we have up within the next few days
thinkin of postin my mpreg on here?? it's not done but i stopped writing it a while ago and idk maybe it'll get me back into writing for it again? hopefully?? i don't have the time to write w school lmao