Chapter Text
Jason grunted as he hit the ground. Sweat clung to his skin, sending him sliding across the surface beneath him, several meters from where he’d been thrown brutally from his feet. Every muscle screamed at him to give up, joints begging him to stop the abuse, strung out and overexerted. But Jason wouldn’t, ignoring the protests in his body in favor of the heady adrenaline coursing through his veins and the endorphins crowding just beneath the pain. He lived for it, an addictive drug that gave him focus and obliterated all the worries that would drag him down in all other corners of his life.
Another man, broad in the shoulder and sturdy as a truck, waited patiently as Jason got to his feet. It wouldn’t be sportsmanlike, after all, to kick someone while he’s down. What a gentleman , Jason thought sarcastically. Better for him anyway, even if it irked his pride that he was being looked down upon by the more experienced fighter. He wasn’t about to lose, though, not yet.
Levering himself to his feet, Jason used the reprieve freely given to catch his breath, allowing his counterpart to do the same. He could do this. He could do this. Just one more push. Chuck, his opponent, was just as tired as Jason. They’d been sparring for the better part of ten minutes after a long day of training and it was beginning to wear on them both, though Jason had the distinct advantage of his youth on his side. It was significantly harder to keep up such a brutal pace at forty then it was at twenty-four, after all.
Chuck eventually became impatient, making a soft huffing sound, and Jason stood up to his full, considerable height, brushing his long dark hair out of his eyes, sticky with sweat and pulled loose from its tie. Time to end this.
With the last dregs of his strength, Jason lunged suddenly, thinking to swipe his opponent from his feet before he could make another move. But the man was too wily, too experienced for such an obvious ploy. Jason yelped as he was once more pushed to the ground, barely avoiding slamming his face to the mat as the man wrenched his captured arm into a very uncomfortable position, effectively locking him down. Jason grunted, the air in his lungs deflating like his ego as he was pinned easily for the fourth time.
“C’mon, kid, I haven’t got all day,” the older man chuckled breathlessly, amusement clear in his voice. He stood about a full foot shorter than Jason’s six feet, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t take the much younger man down with little effort, a fact Jason had long ago resigned himself to. Jason laughed, strained and not terribly surprised, tapping the floor in defeat. Even with ten years of martial arts experience under his belt, the veteran of twenty won the day, smiling toothily before releasing him. Jason groaned as his tensed muscles were released and the weight disappeared from his back, allowing him to breathe.
“Alright, you win this round,” Jason sighed, flopping down on the mat petulantly.
“What else is new? How many times do I have to tell you that you leave your left side open before you get it into your thick head?” Chuck growled good-naturedly as he held a hand out to help Jason to his feet.
Jason eyed the man with a smile, but didn’t take the offered hand, pushing himself up and grimacing at the smear of sweat he’d left on the mat. That’s what he gets for sparring with his shirt off. Now he was going to have to mop on top of everything else. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you.”
“If you did, I wouldn’t have to wipe the floor with your beaner face every Saturday,” Chuck cajoled, withdrawing his hand with a roll of his eyes.
“Shut it, gringo, you’re just jealous,” Jason flipped him off.
Chuck barked a laugh before he moved to the side to snatch his towel off the surrounding hip-high wall separating the training area from the lobby. He and a few others still remained this evening, the dojo open for free training since all of the Saturday classes were over. It was getting late, though, and most everyone had already left. Jason could have closed the doors hours ago after the owner of the gym, Master Diaz, went home, but he didn’t mind, always down for some extra training. Especially if Chuck, one of the few people who could take him seriously in a fight and win, was around to spar.
He was going to have to shut down in a few minutes if he wanted to get out of here before five o’clock traffic, though. He’d promised, after all, even if he would rather do anything else.
“Alright, guys,” Jason called, ignoring Ashley, one of the few women who bothered to train at this gym, who mean mugged him for not being politically correct. He winked at her, and she scowled playfully. “Clear out and hit the showers, I got places to be!”
“We would if someone would fix the showers,” Ashley accused.
“Hey, I’m an instructor, not a plumber! Maybe if your long-ass armpit hair didn't get caught in the drain all the time…” Jason laughed as the much slighter woman flipped him off, not a strand of body hair in sight above the sleeve of her tank top. She was fastidious about that, despite always preaching that women shouldn’t have to shave just because that’s what the patriarchy preferred.
“You coming tonight?” she asked instead of starting one of their frequent verbal spars.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jason said with a small smile, though that couldn’t be further from the truth. She didn’t notice or maybe chose not to acknowledge the strain in his smile, tossing her boxing gloves into her bag.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
After a few more minutes, Jason found himself alone. His smile fell and he sighed, taking in the gym around him. The dojo was a wreck. The mats–blue and red foam puzzle pieces that served for a training floor–were covered in sweat and it reeked to high heaven, a familiar mixture of corn chip smell and B.O. The gear wrack had been knocked over, spilling sparring equipment and padded sticks all over the back room. Again. The kids from the little dragons class just couldn’t leave the shelves alone for some reason, and usually the place was so busy that he and Master D couldn’t quite manage everything, especially when they were both on the mat instructing. Jason considered for the hundredth time just buying more sturdy shelves for him, but the stalwart man refused to accept money from a ‘starving college brat’. Jason hadn’t been in college for over two years, but the irascible instructor refused to acknowledge that he was grown. He’d had been coming to this dojo since he was little more than a child and Master D would never let him forget it, though Jason now towered over him by several inches.
He was right about one thing, though; Jason was dead broke. He barely got by with the money that Master D could afford to pay him. Still, he would take this lifestyle over the one he was born to any day. At least here, doing this, he was happy.
Despite the fact that Jason was dead tired, he smiled. It was a good tired, one born of doing something he loved. There was nothing more satisfying than the fatigue of a good workout, and even better, he’d lasted longer against Chuck than usual. He was improving. Either that, or the man was just getting old.
Jason liked to think he was improving.
Stretching his long, wired arms over his head, Jason sighed before scanning the floor for his hair tie. Seeing it a few feet away, he snatched it from where it had fallen earlier and tied back his shoulder-length black hair, the curls still clinging valiantly to the tanned skin of his neck. If he wanted to get out of here any time soon, he’d better get started.
Even if he would rather stay here for the rest of the night destroying a punching bag than go where he was headed.
To his surprise, the door tinkled, the little bell above the threshold swaying merrily as someone passed through. Jason straightened, the training knives in his hands nearly tumbling to the floor as he turned. He could have sworn he’d locked the door.
“Hey,” he called. An older man walked inside and slowed to a stop in front of the barrier wall, taking a good look around. He was tall, nearly as tall as Jason, and slim with dark blond hair. He had his hands shoved into his jacket pockets, relaxed. “Uh, the dojo is closed,” Jason said uncertainly, brow furrowed. Maybe he should have flipped the sign, but he’d forgotten to now that he thought about it. It had been a long day.
The man didn’t say anything, just took another cursory look around before locking his pale eyes on Jason. Had the man not heard him? Unsettled by the obviously assessing stare he was receiving, Jason opened his mouth hesitantly to try again.
Before another word could pass between them, Jason jumped about a foot in the air as his phone vibrated in his pocket, Eye of the Tiger playing obnoxiously through the quiet room. Startled, Jason fumbled before pulling it out of his pocket to check the caller ID. “S-sorry, hold on a sec,” he told the man as he swiped to answer, a flush of embarrassment rising in his face.
“Hey, Jason, are you still at the dojo?” Master D’s voice filtered through the speaker, and Jason felt the knot in his throat ease a little, comforted by the familiar voice.
“Uh, yeah, I’m still cleaning up,” Jason answered, turning his back on the stranger before giving him one more nervous glance. “What do you need? I’ve got someone at the door...”
“This late?” he asked, and Jason could practically see the lift of his brow. “Who is it?”
“Hm, dunno, they just walked in–” the door tinkled again and Jason turned around in surprise, looking out into the already lengthening evening. No trace of the stranger remained, and Jason shivered, unsettled. What was that about? “Never mind, he just left. Need me to bring you something before I leave?”
“Nah, just forgot to turn off the heater in the office. Shut it down and get out of there already. I’ll take care of the cleaning in the morning.”
Jason’s brows drew together. He’d been counting on having to stay for at least another half-hour. “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Get going already, or Ashley won’t let me hear the end of it.”
Jason deflated. Right. She just had to go and get Master D involved. “Fine,” he said sullenly, and the older man laughed.
“Go have fun. You work too much.” The phone call ended and Jason moodily shoved his cell back into his pocket, leaving the dummy-knives where they lay. Time to get this over with, then.
He left the dojo and locked the door behind him, strange encounter already forgotten in the wake of his nerves for the coming night.
---
“Jase, my main man!” a blond young man called, and Jason turned with a smile that was little more than a grimace. Nat, his best friend, greeted him as he strode from the back room to stand behind the bar. Jason took a seat on one of the empty stools, ignoring the way obnoxious bass pounded through his body as Shakira blasted over the speakers, her smooth voice sounding more like an angry wail at the moment. They still hadn’t fixed the audio, though it looked like tonight’s DJ was doing her damndest to get it done before guests started arriving, the girl cursing as it sputtered and went out before blasting again. It was early still, as far as bars went, only around six and the doors hadn’t even been opened. “I didn’t think you’d show,” Nat said conversationally, skillfully ignoring the wounded sound system. After all, he’d been in the night-life business long enough that he’d grown accustomed to tuning out chaos. He flashed Jason a winning smile, impossibly white teeth gleaming in the low, bluish light of the club. A classic beauty, the man could have walked off of a Men’s Warehouse add, wearing his usual button-down shirt and slacks despite the fact that they would be ruined by spilled alcohol before the night was through.
“Yeah, well,” Jason said, rubbing his neck self-consciously. “Ashley cornered me at the dojo and insisted, like, eight times that I come.” He’d also practically been thrown out by his boss, but Nat didn’t need to know that.
“Oh?” Nat grinned slyly, sliding Jason a shot of whiskey without prompting. “Ashley, huh? Aren’t you guys getting a little close lately?”
“Shove off, dude, you know it’s not like that,” Jason rolled his eyes. “She’s married. Happily.”
“Uh-huh,” Nat said, waggling his brows.
“Happily married and expecting,” Jason insisted pointedly, raising his own brows. Nat didn’t blink, continuing to grin and Jason sighed. Nat, for all that he was a great friend, was somewhat of an insatiable flirt, one who seldom felt that things as silly as monogamy should stop people from pursuing the ones they like. Jason also knew that he was just teasing, however. Ashley and her husband had been friends with them for years, and it was abundantly clear that there was no getting between the couple, even if Jason had remotely wanted to. They simply had eyes for no-one else.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you great prude,” Nat sighed dramatically. “But come on, dude, it’s been a year since the engagement and you have yet to move on already. What’s it going to take for you to open your eyes to all of the beauty around you?” He swept his arms around to encompass the entire bar. Though there wasn’t anyone actually in the bar except for an irritable DJ and a few other bartenders chatting beside the entrance, Jason knew what he meant. That didn’t stop the small spark of irritation at his friend’s insistence. Nat had known him since they were freshmen in college and he damn well knew Jason’s history, even if he refused to accept it for some reason. He wasn’t a prude, he just...
“You come on,” Jason said glumly. “You know that I don’t...well, that I…”
“Still on about that, huh?” Nat said, though not unkindly. It made Jason bristle, swirling his drink and glaring pointedly to the side. “Okay, fine, jeez, no need to get pissy. You’re going to have a great time tonight, yeah?”
“I guess,” Jason muttered. It was a shame, because usually, he loved this place. Stonewalls, a small bar on the second floor of a restaurant, was one of the best joints in this college town for all that it didn’t look like much on the outside. Its interior was a bit cramped, typical for these older converted buildings. It had clearly been remodeled from a store of some sort, a smooth black floor put in along with a bar and a stage, private booths lining the wall. Blacklights lined the edges of the floor, lighting up the dance area and an impressive wall of alcohol. Nat and Jason had fallen in love with the place the second they’d walked into it the first time over six years ago, adoring the quirky, no-judgement atmosphere. The drinks were cheap, the usual crowd accepting, and it didn’t try to take itself too seriously. In a word, it was everything a college kid could want after escaping from the stifling guardianship of ultra-conservative parents. It ended up becoming one of the only places Jason could escape to while his life went to hell.
Halfway through their college career, the place’s owner died suddenly, and Jason thought with despair that it was all over because one of the only places he truly felt at home was going to be taken from him just like everything else. Nat, however, didn’t even bat an eye, dropping school to use his life-savings and several hefty loans to buy the place out from a careless inheritor who would rather shut the place down than deal with it. Jason thought Nat was an idiot for going that far, but though he would never admit it, he would owe Nat forever.
Because more than anything, Stonewalls was one of the only places on this planet where Jason didn’t feel like such a freak.
Tonight though...tonight there was a show. And she was going to be there.
“Aw, lighten up,” Nat told him. He lifted a fist to punch Jason lightly, but never made contact, stopping just before brushing the bare skin below the sleeve of Jason’s shirt and pulling back with a wink. “Lola is playing tonight, and I know she’s your favorite,” he sing-songed.
Jason gave him a half-masted glare, but ultimately let it go. It wasn’t ideal, but he couldn’t really expect their friend group to shun her just because it didn’t work out between them and she’d gotten married to someone else.
Especially since he’d never brought himself to confess in the first place.
“Lola, huh,” Jason said, forcing cheer into his voice and latching onto the change of subject for dear life. “I haven’t seen her in, like, a year. What gives?”
“I know,” Nat draped himself over the bar in despair. “She’s become so popular lately that it’s nearly impossible to book her. But,” he perked up, waggling his brows again, “I was able to pull some strings. I can be very...convincing.”
Jason outright laughed at this, not fooled in the slightest. Nat was a liar, and he didn’t even try to hide it. “Lola would eat you alive, pretty boy.”
It was true. The woman was six-four in stilettos and built like a tank. That and Nat was about as straight as they came. No matter how well Lola pulled off the tight gaudy dresses she loved, she just didn't have the right equipment for the self-proclaimed ladies’ man.
“Yeah, you got me. I offered her twice her rate.”
Jason nearly did a spit-take. “What? Why?” No matter how good a show was, this bar was barely kept afloat by a small–albeit enthusiastic–fan base and a prayer.
“Because,” Nat said seriously, looking Jason in the eye. “It’s your birthday and I want you to have a good time. Only the best for my little brother.”
Jason’s chest clenched, swallowing down his liquor in a single gulp and choking through the harsh burn in an attempt to beat down the flush rising up his face. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was touched. “My birthday was two weeks ago, man. How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t need to go through all of this fuss for me?”
“How many times do I have to tell you , that I absolutely do,” Nat shot back. And maybe he wasn’t Jason’s brother by blood, but he’d proven himself to be more family than Jason’s actual relatives–except for his mamá of course. That still didn’t mean Jason liked being fussed over. At least Nat did it a lot less now that they weren’t roommates, but only because they saw each other less often. “Besides, we would have celebrated on the day of if it hadn’t taken two weeks to convince you to let us throw you a party in the first place. You’ve got to quit hiding in your apartment like an old man!”
Jason frowned. “I don’t hide. I go out!”
Nat snorted. “Where, exactly? Let’s see...the dojo, the dojo, and–oh! Sometimes the grocery store. Although you probably haven’t gone in weeks again,” Nat ticked off his fingers.
“I come here, don’t I?” Jason was a little offended, now. “Besides, grocery delivery is where it’s at.”
“That’s for working moms and weebs too lazy to leave the house,” Nat countered, flicking in front of Jason’s face, making the darker man flinch back with a scowl. “My point is, you need to get out more. Now shut up and drink your drink. I’m about to open the club and you can bet that it will fill up in no time. The others will be here soon!”
Jason groaned, resigning himself to the night to come. He wasn’t much of a partier–not at all, actually– but the force of gravity that was Nathan Evans had roped him into a friend group that absolutely was . And they had friends, who also had friends, and really, when you got down to it, this was just a huge party for no reason full of people he mostly didn’t know. Nat knew this wasn’t Jason’s scene, that he would much rather sit in a booth in the corner and just enjoy the atmosphere. Jason hated being the center of attention. But still, Nat insisted, citing as always that it wasn’t healthy for Jason to be such a hermit.
Jason wasn’t a hermit though. He was a martial arts instructor, and that took a certain amount of charm and ability to entertain in front of an audience, regardless of the fact that off the mat he was a social disaster.
He just couldn’t help it. On the mat, he was comfortable, in his element. Outside of that…
Jason should have followed his instincts and stayed home to play that videogame he’d been wanting to take up again. Even if it was tragic and made little sense, there was something in the narrative that appealed to Jason’s escapist nature. And he really, really needed an escape. He wished he could go on a road trip with just a few close friends and save the world like the characters in that game rather than deal with his own life.
But that was ridiculous, and Jason was rooted firmly in reality.
The DJ cried in triumph as the sound system finally croaked to life and started playing Portugal. The Man clear as a bell. Jason sighed in resignation and blinked down at the drink in his hand, noticing for the first time that Nat had refilled it while he’d been occupied. Sneaky bastard. A small smile pulled at his full lips. At least the drinks would be free, and hey, maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he dreaded.
---
Three hours later, and Jason was rueing his optimism.
They’re my friends and I mustn’t murder them in their sleep, he repeated to himself for the twentieth time in as many minutes as yet another stranger stumbled into him off the dance floor, drunk as all hell and wishing him a happy birthday with a friendly pat to the shoulder. His skin crawled as he forced himself to smile and not throw her off him, hating every second until the inebriated woman realized he wasn’t interested and hopped back onto the dance floor. He didn’t bother to pretend that he wasn’t rubbing his arm to get rid of the unwanted sensation of her clammy touch the second she was gone.
He’d been mortified when Nat, the utter bastard, dragged him onto the stage and announced him ‘king of the night’, placing a gaudy plastic crown on his head to the cheering of over a hundred strangers and, like, three people Jason actually cared about packed into too small a space. He really, really wished they could have just chilled at his place, but Nat always was one to make a big deal out of any occasion and would not let him skip out this year. Why did he like him again? Jason was finding it hard to remember.
He sighed, trying to shake off his piss-poor mood, realizing he was being just a little bit unfair.
The show really was good, despite the stick up Jason’s ass that he just couldn’t seem to remove tonight. Lola was killing it, as always, and the crowd was loving it. The truth was, he wouldn’t have been so uptight if he wasn’t so damned nervous. She hadn’t shown up yet. Maybe she wouldn’t. Here’s to hoping.
Jason instantly felt bad for the thought, rolling the cool edge of his half-empty glass against his frown. It had been months since the worst day of his life, and years since he’d seen it coming like a speeding freight train. He should have been over this by now…
“Hey,” a woman shouted over the din, and Jason’s heart stopped, nearly dropping his glass onto the bartop. He relaxed a second later with a gusty sigh when he realized it was only Ashley who slipped into the small empty space beside him, a group of giggling girls scooting out of her way. She’d cleaned up well considering she’d been on the mat as long as he had that day, taking the time to straighten her curly brown hair and put on way too much makeup. She was grinning when she joined him, but her painted lips slipped into a frown when she realized he wasn’t smiling back. “Jesus, Jason, you don’t have to look so put out.”
“It’s my party and I can cry if I want to,” he sang sullenly, trying and failing to banish his glum attitude. Ashley was great. He liked Ashley. The thought nearly brought tears to Jason’s eyes, and okay, maybe he should stop drinking right about now.
“That’s the spirit,” she said, giving him the sign for ‘love’, their shorthand for a hug. She sobered. “Look, I know this is hard for you but we can’t just cut her out. She might be oblivious but she’s still my best friend.”
“I know that,” Jason said.
“She still cares about you.”
“I know that.” Just not in the way he’d always wanted. He hadn’t actually seen her since she returned from her honeymoon, making this excuse or other to avoid it, and he honestly wasn’t sure if he could take it yet. He was still haunted by the way she’d told him that she’d gotten engaged, that she’d wanted him to be her best man. Still haunted by how happy she’d looked–how radiant –on her wedding day when he’d been forced to admit to himself that he’d never had a chance in the first place.
Because he was a coward. Because he was broken .
Ashley huffed and waved over a harried bartender, ordering water for Jason and herself, though he was the only one who needed it to sober up. She, of course, wasn’t drinking with a baby on the way, her belly just starting to show beneath her loose dress. Jason didn’t want water though. He wanted another drink to drown out the noise in his head. He didn’t want to think anymore.
“Come on, let’s go out back for a minute. I could use a break,” Ashley said, placing a hand over her stomach and tilting her head towards the door. Jason eyed the rows of liquor mournfully, gleaming so temptingly behind the bar, but one didn’t ignore a pregnant woman when she needed a break. Or so she kept telling him, and anyone who would listen. He got the distinct feeling that though she complained endlessly, she enjoyed the attention.
Following Ashley out back, Jason breathed deep as he stepped onto the stairwell that led into the alley behind the bar, lukewarm night air cooling the heat that had clung to them in the crowded space. He leaned against the railing, lazily eyeing the string lights that lit the narrow passage between the two buildings. The door shut behind them, the bass of the music becoming nothing more than quiet thumping, felt rather than heard. A street away, loud laughter and chatter echoed, the night young and the town full of college students flocking to the square to take a load off from the long week.
Asley sighed, leaning back against the railing and taking a long drink. Jason idly stirred his, sipping at it sullenly only when she glared. “So,” she started conversationally, and Jason tensed. “When are you going to stop moping around about this, huh?”
“I’m not moping,” Jason shot back immediately, already tired of this conversation. He’d just had it with Nat, after all, and he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He’d been successfully avoiding talking about it since the love of his life announced her engagement.
“Bullshit. You’re going to have to face it sooner or later, hun.” Ashley’s fingers twitched beside her face, miming out of habit the cigarettes she no longer smoked. “I’ve been watching the two of you dance around each other for years and I’m sick of it.”
Jason liked Ashley, he reminded himself. Although right now, he wasn’t so sure.
“I’m just saying, all of this could have been avoided if you’d just told her how you felt.”
“You know why I didn’t, Ash,” Jason muttered, half tempted to drop the glass over the rail in a fit of petulance. It would be so satisfying to watch it shatter against the concrete, but he wouldn’t because it belonged to Nat. Also, he wasn’t a savage.
“When are you going to stop using that as an excuse?” Ashley snapped, and Jason flinched, surprised at the anger in her tone. He ducked his head, her abrupt ire a slap to the face. What made it worse was that he knew he was hard to deal with. He didn’t want to be a burden on his friends, but they did have a habit of dragging it out of Jason, not allowing him to bottle things up as he would much rather do.
“Ugh, sorry,” she said only a moment later, placing a hand on her forehead. “Blame it on the mood swings, alright? You know I’m just worried about you.”
“I know,” Jason said softly.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Ashley insisted, leaning ever so slightly closer and seeking his eyes, though he did his best to avoid her gaze. It was something he’d heard over and over again, from all the people that mattered and dozens of people who didn’t. It didn't change the fact that he didn’t believe it.
It didn’t change the fact that he would be alone for the rest of his life.
“Lydia would have understood. You could have…”
“Please, just drop it,” Jason interrupted, closing his eyes, a lance of pain throbbing in his throat. He didn’t want to hear her name. He didn’t want to think about this anymore. The alcohol tasted rancid on his tongue now, sweetness cloying, and his head began to pound as he sobered up. He already knew he was going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning, and somehow it didn’t feel worth it.
“Okay,” Ashley said after a moment. He could feel her eyes on him. She sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s supposed to be your birthday party and here I am dredging up unpleasant topics.”
Jason bit his lip. He couldn’t blame her exactly. He hated to admit it, but both she and Nat were right, he had been avoiding all of them for longer than he cared to admit. They hadn’t really talked like this in a while. It wasn’t entirely his fault though, because–
“Ashley!” Toby burst from the back door, startling them both, eyes lighting up as he finally caught sight of his wife. His fluffy black hair was mussed like he’d been through a windstorm rather than a night out, but that was pretty much how he always looked. “I’ve been looking for you for forever,” he gushed, reaching out to wrap his thin arms around Ashley to pull her close.
Ashley laughed, indulging her rather inebriated husband, nuzzling affectionately into his neck. “You goof, it’s been ten minutes.”
“Too long,” he muttered into her skin, making her giggle.
Jason watched them out of the corner of his eye before facing resolutely back towards the alley, unable to stop the poisonous prick of jealousy at their easy affection. Now he really wished he had more alcohol. They’d been like this forever, of course, but lately, it had grated on Jason more and more considering the past six months. Also, they’d been nigh unbearable since they announced they were pregnant.
After several uncomfortable minutes where Jason was forced to endure the two of them coo and cuddle each other as if he weren’t even there, Toby finally pulled back, gangling limbs thrown up into the air, animated. “You’ll never guess who just showed up,” he exclaimed, always the excitable one, especially when he’d been drinking. “Lydia! It’s been forever, but we’re all together again!”
Jason tensed, an unreasonably strong spike of adrenaline setting his nerves alight as if he’d been sentenced to execution rather than potentially talking to the woman he would never have.
He was going to be sick. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t .
Abruptly, he started for the stairs, not caring in the least that he was ditching his own party. He wasn’t ready. He might never be.
“Jason, wait, where are you going?” Toby asked, dismayed and just a bit slurred. He grunted as Ashley elbowed him in the side.
“What Toby means to say, is that you should just try and talk to her,” Ashley said gently, as if coaxing a wild animal out of hiding. Jason might as well have been just that for all that he felt cornered. They meant well, he knew they did, but this was too much. He needed air. He needed to get out of here.
“Tell Nat thanks,” he muttered, waving and starting down the stairs without looking back, dropping the dumb plastic crown on the ground to mingle with the rest of the trash.
“I knew he wouldn’t stay,” Toby despaired, too loud, as Jason made his way down the street. Jason tucked his chin into his chest, picking up his pace as the disappointment of one of his only friends echoed harshly off the street. He didn’t want to hear it, but drunk Toby wasn’t exactly subtle. “I told Nat it was too soon–oof!”
Ashley must have elbowed him again, but Jason didn’t hear her rebuttal, already turning the corner and beginning the long walk back to his apartment. It was only ten, but the sidewalks were filled with raucous twenty-somethings already drunk or getting there. Usually, it wouldn’t bother him, but right now he wished they would all just shut up, wished the music wasn’t so loud spilling out of every bar and that the lights weren’t quite so bright and cheerful.
But the world doesn’t adjust to suit your mood, no matter how depressed you might feel. He should have just stayed home like he had yesterday…at least when you were sitting around playing video games you could worry about someone else’s problems for a little while.
It was a long walk back to his apartment, the night air cool, just on the last dregs of summer before fall’s chill could set in. Not for the first time, he wished he’d taken his car, even though he knew it was lazy when both the dojo and the bar were only six blocks away. He would just have to suck it up. Despite his pessimism, the lights and sounds from the square faded behind Jason soon enough and he started to breathe easier as the pressures of other people existing in the same space as him went away.
Man, he was being a jerk tonight. Already, he could feel the regret of treating his friends so poorly hit him hard, the shame of his behavior always ten times worse long after the fact for all the good it ever did him in the moment. He groaned aloud, running his fingers through his hair. They just wanted him to have fun for once and he’d ruined it. Again. He would have to make it up to them somehow…
A cold trickle went down Jason’s spine and he stopped, dropping his hand and looking up abruptly. Jason had been walking on autopilot and realized that he’d already reached the neighborhood separating the main road from his apartment complex, the streets only illuminated by the few porch lights, glimmering dimly in the new moon. He scanned the dark street, trying to see what had spooked him.
This wasn’t necessarily a dangerous neighborhood, mostly college kids and families, but it was late, a little too late for anyone to be out walking around. Yet there was a man wearing all black walking towards Jason, his dark form flashing in and out of the dim porch lights through the trees.
He looked...familiar, and it took several seconds for Jason to place where he’d seen him, mind muddled with exhaustion and drink. But a flash of blond against the dark jogged his memory along with the creeping discomfort he’d experienced earlier that night. Wasn’t that the man who’d showed up at the dojo?
A shiver of true alarm slithered up Jason’s neck, because for the second time that night he found himself beneath the stranger’s stern gaze. Hands shoved into his jacket pockets, the man didn’t increase his stride or seem to even acknowledge Jason, and yet the closer he came the tighter Jason’s stomach clenched, unease a cloying acid building in the back of his throat.
He swallowed, trying to get himself to calm down. Maybe the man lived here, and Jason was just jumping to conclusions. It was dark, after all. Maybe the man wasn’t even looking at him. But still...he should probably walk on the other side of the street, just in case this guy was a mugger or something.
Jason had barely made up his mind when light and sound spilled abruptly onto the road from the house beside him, loud, raucous laughter shattering the silence as a few people walked out onto the porch. Jason jerked hard, his heart, already on edge, jumping into his throat to choke off the surprised shout, normality rushing back in with a literal bang. He recognized belatedly the frat house he’d visited a few times with Nat, and wasn’t terribly surprised when two people stumbled onto the grass and began making out right there to the laughter of their friends.
Jason raised a brow, grimacing, before looking back around warily. He paused. The man was gone. Slowly, he shook his head. Maybe he was being paranoid...Jason moved to the other side of the street anyway, deciding that whether he was being paranoid or not, he’d rather be overcautious than deal with any potential weirdos. Looking over his shoulder one last time–the man hadn’t reappeared–Jason started walking again, this time paying a little more attention like he should have been from the start.
Jason’s phone began buzzing in his pocket for the second time that night, once again pushing the strange encounter from his mind. He paused, pulling his phone from his jacket, blinking into the too-bright screen. He hoped it wasn’t Nat. He really didn’t want to face his disappointment so soon…
“Ugh,” Jason complained. It was worse than that. Much worse. Just what he needed when he already felt like shit. For a split second, he considered ignoring the call but knew he would end up paying for it later. Why did the bastard have to call now, of all times?
Bringing the phone up to his ear with more force than was probably necessary, Jason growled, “What.”
“Now, now, is that any way to greet your father?” a familiar voice drawled, and it sent equal amounts of dread and acute irritation up Jason’s spine, his already aggravated anxiety rocketing through the roof. “I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”
“Fuck off,” Jason muttered, already done with this conversation. Jason was drunk and tired and pissed and he so didn’t need this right now. He would hang up, but that had never gone over well for him in the past.
If he hadn’t been all of those things, maybe he would have realized sooner that it was a little out of character for the man to be calling him like this so late, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care right now.
A sigh of irritation was Jason’s reward, and he took vicious pleasure in it. “So ungrateful,” Matthew Cruz, Jason’s father and all-around asshole, scolded condescendingly, and Jason’s temper flared against his will, even if he knew that that was exactly what his father wanted. “Who do you think paid for your tuition, hm? Who allows you to work at that dead-end job and live in the projects? A little appreciation wouldn’t be amiss.”
Jason gritted his teeth in genuine anger. “You want me to be grateful you forced me to go to such a fucking expensive college with a major I didn’t even want? And for the last time, I don’t live in the projects.” It was an old argument, one they’d had over a hundred times the past few years. But time didn’t seem to make it any less heated. Besides, Jason knew that Matthew could afford to pay for something as measly as a four-year degree. It was pocket change to him, and he would have thrown all the more money at Jason if he even hinted that he wanted a Master’s. Not that he would, because he hadn’t even wanted to go to college in the first place.
“Oh, right, student housing . My mistake.”
“It’s not–” Jason bit off a low curse, knowing that this was going to get him nowhere and really just wanting this conversation to be over. “Look, what do you want?”
A heavy sigh sounded on the other end and Jason snarled silently, nerves frayed. Well, fuck, maybe his dad should stop calling him just to harass him if it was such a pain in the ass. “Jesus, Jason,” Matthew said longsufferingly, and Jason could practically see the permanent wrinkles between his salt and pepper brows growing deeper, the man no doubt pinching the bridge of his nose the way he always did when he was burning the midnight oil. Disarmed by the casual use of his name, something his father hadn’t done in years, Jason slowed his furious stalk. “Look, that’s not the reason I called, so you can stop squeezing your phone to death before you break another one,” he said pointedly and Jason scowled, easing up on the poor thing. “There’s been some strange calls coming into the office lately.”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” Jason said, though the anger had leached out of his voice now, more tired than anything.
“Yeah, it is personal,” his father replied, tone dead serious and not rising to the provocation. Jason was starting to become worried now, finally catching on that this conversation might be outside of the normal pissing match. “They aren’t just solicitors, they’re threats. Specifically against our family.”
Jason took his time as he parsed out what his father was suggesting, thoughts sluggish. “Who did you piss off?” he said, but he was starting to feel nervous, brow furrowing at the implications.
“Jason. This is serious.”
“How serious?” he retorted in frustration. Get to the point!
“I’ve had your mother moved to the Florida house,” Matthew said bluntly, and that finally got through to Jason, sending his blood into hyperdrive, eyes focusing.
“What?” Jason hissed, fury replacing nerves in an instant. How dare he? Matthew may have been a controlling asshole, but he’d never pulled something like this. There was no way that Jason’s mamá, Anita, would have allowed herself to be removed from her family in Mexico, no way she would leave Jason’s Abuela to fend for herself with her horrible sister–
“For Christ’s sake, boy, she agreed. What kind of monster do you think I am?” Jason didn’t answer that. He didn’t have to. Matthew sighed, and now Jason was really worried because he didn’t sound nearly as cool and infuriatingly collected as usual. “If you would just listen to me for once in your goddamn life I could tell you why I did it.”
Taking a deep breath, Jason pinched the bridge of his nose in a habit he’d picked up from his father. He hated it, but couldn’t help it any more than the shape of his brow or his long nose. “So tell me.”
“I’ve been receiving anonymous calls demanding money. Neither the FBI or my private investigators can seem to track them, and their threats are getting more explicit. Just jabs at my reputation at first, but when that didn’t work they started making... suggestions about you and your mother.”
“Who are they?”
“Hell if I know. And it doesn’t matter. They have nothing on me, and I’ll have them fettered out soon and dealt with.” Jason shivered. It wasn’t an idle threat. For all that his father was reputable on the outside, his ruthlessness was renowned. One didn’t get as wealthy as him without making some shady deals. “Pack your shit. I’m sending a car for you in the morning.”
“Wait, what?” Jason said, thrown.
“Did I stutter, boy? I just told you the threats were for you too. Now do as I say.” The phone cheerily announced the ending of the call and Jason had to resist the urge to slam it into the ground.
Just what he fucking needed. Maybe if his father wasn’t such an asshole he wouldn’t have so many enemies! He fantasized for several satisfying moments about packing his stuff and just disappearing–that would show his stupid father–but deflated soon enough. No. He couldn’t do that to his mamá. And even if Matthew wasn’t the greatest dad, he didn’t hate him...as such. If Matthew hadn’t thought there was a genuine danger to his family, then he wouldn’t be doing this. As infuriatingly controlling as it was, this was actually Matthew showing he cared.
Or at the very least, protecting his investment.
Jason was too emotionally exhausted to think about it too deeply. He was sweaty and tipsy and he felt disgusting, still high strung from too many people in his personal space for a lifetime. He felt like an utter jerk for ditching his friends, like a coward for avoiding his problems, and all of that was only made worse by his father once again bringing out the worst in him. He just wanted to go home, dammit.
If only for one more night for the foreseeable future. He was going to have to talk to Master D before he could leave, and after it had been so hard to convince him to hire Jason in the first place…
At least he would get to see his mamá for the first time in over a year. Small blessings.
Shoulders hunched and hands shoved into his pockets, Jason walked home in the dark.
Despite what Jason’s father would have people believe, Jason did not, in fact, live in the projects or student housing. His apartment was modest, sure, but it was what he could afford. Honestly, he wasn’t complaining. The neighborhood was pretty quiet, the drug dealers discreet, and he hadn’t seen anyone die from an overdose or domestic abuse since he’d moved here. So, better than his last apartment, at least. That had been rough. He’d been living with Nat at the time and they’d barely been able to rub two pennies together collectively.
So his dad could shove it. Jason was doing just fine on his own.
Far more tired than he’d realized, Jason dragged himself up the three flights of stairs in his building, just ready for this day to be over. He probably shouldn’t have pushed himself so hard in training, but it had been the only way to quiet his anxiety enough to actually keep his promise to Ashley. Not that it did him a lot of good. He still ended up making an ass of himself. His throat attempted to close on him, but he swallowed past it, hoping that he’d be sober enough soon to pass right out so he would no longer have to think .
He sighed in aggravation as he fumbled for his key in the dark, his porch light out again. He could have sworn he’d had that fixed last week...
Finally jamming the stubborn key into the lock after the third try, he pushed his way inside, sighing heavily as he dumped his duffel by the door. He needed food, a shower, and sleep , in that order, and then maybe he’d feel more human. Dragging his feet, Jason gave his dark apartment a cursory glance, stepping past the living room and into the kitchen, grabbing blindly into his nearly empty fridge for the sandwich he’d made that morning. Shoving it into his mouth, Jason took no time to scarf it down without really tasting it, eyes half-lidded as he left a trail of clothes all the way to the bathroom.
Scalding hot water sluicing over his aching muscles felt like bliss, and Jason leaned into the tiles, letting it wash the stress and filth of the day down the drain. By the time he’d actually washed the sweat and alcohol from his skin, he was so drowsy he might have passed out comfortably on the bathroom floor. Dragging flannel pants over his damp body, Jason shuffled into the living room, attempting to get his damp hair in order before it dried into an unmanageable mess.
“Well, well, didn’t expect to get a show,” a woman’s voice pierced through Jason’s sleepy haze in an instant.
Yelping, Jason slammed back into the bar separating the living room from the kitchen, sending several glasses toppling from the cluttered surface to shatter against the floor. They crashed noisily, adding to the spike of painful adrenaline that stung Jason’s fingers and locked up his spine. He gaped, wide-eyed, at the stranger that sat in his living room, casually draped over the nest of blankets and pillows that covered his couch in a disorganized mess. “What the fuck,” Jason wheezed, hand gripping his bare chest and voice barely audible through his clenched throat. He glanced between the woman and the door, which he’d apparently forgotten to lock despite his father’s warning earlier.
“Now, now, none of that,” she drawled, and Jason nearly had a panic attack as she nonchalantly pulled a pistol from her jacket and pointed it unerringly at his heart. He froze, muddled mind trying to make sense of this insane situation, half-convinced he was dreaming but definitely not willing to risk it. “I’m going to need you to put some clothes on, dollface, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
“What?” Jason asked, but again, his voice was little more than a panicked whisper.
Her expression hardened, playful edge gone in an instant from her wide face. “I said, clothes. Now.” She stood, a fair bit shorter than Jason–most people were– but surprisingly nearly as wide in the shoulder. Her jaw was locked in an aggressive grimace, dark eyes narrowed beneath short blond hair. She looked like someone Jason really didn’t want to fuck with, even if she hadn’t had a gun expertly pointed at his person. The woman gestured with said gun towards his bedroom, staying at a cautious distance so that even if he could break through his panic to try and subdue her, she would shoot him long before he got close enough to try. “Unless you want me to drag your naked ass halfway across the country, I suggest you move it.”
Swallowing harshly, Jason jerked into motion, stumbling towards his bedroom on shaking knees. What the fuck, what the fuck . Who was this crazy woman, what did she want? He glanced at her fearfully, from the top of her spiked hair to the bottom of her black shoes.
Black, like the man who’d stopped by the dojo.
Jason paled further.
He hadn’t been imagining it. He was being stalked, had been all day and for who knows how long before that. Matthew’s warning had come too late.
Jason grabbed the first pieces of clothing off the pile of clean clothes on the floor, not even registering what they were. His skin prickled as he felt her eyes on him like spiders crawling all over his skin, but he didn’t have a choice in the matter, not unless he wanted to get killed. Fighting down his panic, he shed his flannels and pulled on a pair of jeans as quickly as he could, fingers shaking over the fiddly buttons. He looked around frantically beneath his black lashes for anything that might help him, but his training weapons were at the dojo and he’d never owned a gun. He’d trained in self-defense for years, but there was one universal truth; no amount of skill was faster than a bullet. If he could just get close enough, though, he might be able to surprise her.
He held onto that desperate thought as he pulled a t-shirt over his head and snagged his jacket and tennis shoes, glancing nervously at the woman who stood casual in his doorway, watching his every move with bored eyes. Dressed, Jason hesitated, wondering what he should do now.
The woman didn’t give him a chance to contemplate it long, gesturing for him to leave the room and head for the door. “Don’t try anything, kid. I will not hesitate to shoot you in the leg and drag you out of here.”
Jason gulped, nodding and not doubting it for an instant. “W-why are you doing this?”
She shrugged, answering easily enough. “I’m getting paid. Now move.”
Jason’s heart frantically pushed blood hot and thick through his stinging limbs and rushing head. He knew that if she got him into a car, it was all over. He had to do something now, or he was royally screwed. It didn’t matter what she actually wanted from him, he was certain that at the end of it, he would be dead.
The thought chilled him, ice starting low in his stomach and seizing him with fear. He couldn’t let that happen.
Yet, he’d never been in a situation this real before. He was a six-foot man, too poor for mugging and too outwardly intimidating to try anything with; he’d simply never had to defend himself in any serious capacity in his life. Though his body was frantic with adrenaline–the innate, overpowering instinct to attack, get away, get away –his mind stalled at the thought of actually hurting her.
His hesitation in that moment would be one he’d sorely regret.
Stars exploded behind his eyes and he fell to the ground with a yelp of pain, his head slamming harshly into the wall and a rush of crimson gushing from the gash over his eye. Jason reeled, the room spinning and lurching as agony pulled him in and out of consciousness in heady waves of black.
With a snort of disgust, his assaulter wiped the blood from the barrel of her gun, leaving a careless smear on her dark jeans that danced and shimmered through the haze in Jason’s eyes. That done, she crouched and grabbed a stinging a fistful of Jason’s hair, her hot breath washing over him in a cloud of mint. He whimpered, ears ringing harshly and struggling to breathe through the pain, stomach roiling in protest as he was gripped with vertigo.
She chuckled darkly. “Next time, don’t hesitate before you attack, brat. Won’t survive long with that bleeding heart. Now get up. It’s late and we have a long way to go.”
The trip out of the apartment was a blur to Jason. He stumbled twice more, knocking more things to the ground and leaving smears of blood beneath his feet. She pushed him out and left the door open carelessly, nudging him down the stairs. There was no one around, the streets quiet at nearly one in the morning. There was no hope of being discovered, not unless Jason screamed, and he got the feeling that she would absolutely go through with her threat and shoot him. She might need him alive for whatever reason, but it didn’t look like he needed to be whole for her purposes. He should just count himself lucky at this point that the ‘threats’ his father had been receiving hadn’t gotten Jason killed on the spot.
Jason cursed to himself in an endless litany, too dizzy to walk straight and one eye closed from the steady stream of blood trickling down his face. If there had been a sliver of a chance that he could subdue her before, there was none now thanks to his hesitation. He couldn’t see straight anymore and exhaustion was pulling heavy at his limbs, adrenaline unable to keep him going for much longer. He’d been awake since five the previous morning, had been on the mat for over eight hours, and worst of all, alcohol still muddled his movements. Now, pistol-whipped and possibly concussed, he was well and truly at her mercy.
Jason’s vision faded in and out, and before he realized it he was standing in front of an unremarkable black SUV. He stared at it with dread, but the woman pushed him out of her way and opened the door, shoving him inside. Jason all but fell into the seat, nausea pooling in his throat and wishing the world would stop spinning long enough for him to get upright again. When he finally did, he found a hand in his face, something hard and small pressed against his lips. He flinched, but before he could do more than that he felt the unmistakable edge of the gun sinking into his stomach, just above his pelvis. He froze, heart skipping several beats, breaths coming fast and uneven. He stared into her eyes, acid green and mildly annoyed, as if his resistance were no more than a minor inconvenience.
“Open your mouth, kid,” the woman said calmly. Jason pressed his lips tight despite the gun, realizing even in his half-baked mind that letting her drug him was a very, very bad idea. Who knew what it was that she pressed so insistently against his lips? If he let her drug him he would have no idea where they were heading or what was coming next.
He got the feeling that was the idea.
Unfortunately for Jason, she was growing impatient. She pressed the pill harder against his mouth, eyes narrowing dangerously. “Open. Your. Mouth. I swear to Christ , I will knock your ass out and break your legs if you don’t.” Jason shook his head, eyes wild with panic.
An irritated sigh, and then Jason’s head snapped to the side for a second time, color exploding in his vision. He tried to gasp, but a firm hand wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air. His jaw dropped uselessly as he scrabbled for her wrist, but he choked and convulsed as she thrust her fingers into his mouth, pressing into his throat. Nausea surged up more violently than before, but with his throat so cruelly blocked there was nowhere for it to go. His vision spotted as she held him still, getting weaker by the second. A cloying bitterness coated the back of his tongue, whatever she’d shoved in there dissolving rapidly.
Just as he was about to black out, the hands were gone and the door slammed closed. Jason heaved, hacking as he curled into himself. He tried to spit out whatever she’d given him, but it was too late, the pill already dissolved to nothing. Before he could reorient himself the car rocked forward in a squeal of tires. His heart lurched weakly as his assaulter started driving, taking him away from his home.
No...he needed to get out...get away…
Black crowded Jason’s vision as suddenly everything caught up to him at once, limbs collapsing and sending him toppling onto his side. Fuck...move. Move! But it was no use. A few seconds later, Jason was unconscious.
“Jase,” whispered a quiet voice, laced with worry and the barest of tremors.
It drifted through the night air without an echo, the dingy alley deserted save for one young man hunched over himself in the chill of late evening. In his hands lay a small, unremarkable book that he held between his palms as if he both reviled and adored it, fear of its contents not enough to keep him from cradling it like the most precious of gems. A slight shiver of tension shook his fingers, obscuring the words on the sepia pages. As much as he wanted to stop reading, to burn the pages into a pile of ash, he couldn’t.
Prompto couldn’t do that, because between its worn, well-loved folds it held the story of the man he loved.
He’d only been reading for a half-hour and already he’d felt heartache, anger on Jason’s behalf, and now fear for his safety. On the one hand, he was getting to know more about Jason in that small amount of time than he’d been able to glean from the reserved man for months, enough to understand a little more about why he’d been so guarded at first, why it had taken so long to coax down his barriers and see the beautiful soul within. On the other, it was more than Prompto could bear to see Jason struggle like this, couldn’t stand to see him in danger when there was nothing he could do about it, an entire world away.
No, no, no, not Jason. How could Jason have let that woman take him? Why hadn’t been more careful, why? His dad had just told him he was a target! The whole time it was happening–it’s not really happening, the young man reminded himself, it’s not, things are different now–he couldn’t breathe, his heart racing and aching as he read Jason get injured and kidnapped and how dare she touch him?
What had she given him? What did she do? Prompto wanted to read more, but his heart was in his throat, a sympathetic panic attack rising up in his body in an unstoppable tide. He whimpered in the semi-dark, huddling against the filthy brick wall that easily supported his slight weight. He can’t, can’t, can’t let this happen, he wanted to bundle Jason up and never let him leave Prompto’s side, wanted to bury the treacherous text where no one would ever find it–
Keep reading, he told himself sternly, doing his best to force down his tension. This isn’t about what you want.
As much as he wanted to just forget any of this ever happened, Prompto let out a gusty breath and eased his grip on the slightly wrinkled cover. He trusted Jason. He owed him that much after all this time.
Prompto knew that Jason could get himself out of this situation without his help, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to somehow dive into the book and shoot that woman in the face with her own gun. It was hard. That bitch had hurt Jason, had her hands in his mouth, touched what was his. The young man growled in frustration, running slim fingers through his disheveled blond hair. His face was pale, paler than normal, freckles standing out starkly against his nose. He needed to calm down. He had to finish this, had to know what Jason might be getting himself into.
With one last trembling breath, he ran a finger over the image of Jason on the cover lovingly and flipped the book back open.