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The blood’s ruining his t-shirt. He’s not sure he can get the stain out and this is his favourite shirt. He wants to keep wearing it, he needs to keep it. He feels safe in it, but the red on grey is pretty noticeable.
Reggie shakes his head, spreading more red drops onto the sink and his shirt.
Shit.
He bunches more paper towels into his hand and lets them soak in the water before he keeps on rubbing at the stains.
His arm feels tired already, but the stain is still there. Not as red as it used to be. Now it kind of reminds him of ketchup, a slight rusty orange. Still too big. Still hideous.
Reggie takes another set of towels, this time he lathers them in soap, before he wets them, rubbing at the soap with his thumb until he can see small bubbles.
This will work.
His eyes widen, when another ugly glob of red falls on his shirt. His head jerks up. At some point he must have lost his makeshift bandage. His nose is still bleeding, the bridge of it already shimmering blue and starting to swell. So is his left eye. Leftover blood is caked below his nose and to his cheek and chin, itching. The sight alone makes tears come to his eyes. He abandons the lump of towels for a moment to grab another, rolls it, and stuffs it into his nose to stop the bleeding.
His hands are trembling as he reaches for the towels again, his breathing ragged and his sight becomes blurred.
Furious, Reggie bites his lip, rubbing at the new spot with renewed vigour. The spot won’t disappear. It’s still there, staring at him stubbornly, mocking him.
Reggie shouts and throws the towels into the sink. The more or less white sink is sprinkled in red dots. Slimy red drops are running down the inside, pooling at the bottom with red and grey towels. The sight makes him sick, so he looks up at his own tired face. Swollen eyes and nose, red and blue and white stare back at him.
Reggie turns around.
His nose hurts, more noticeable, now that he doesn’t have anything to distract him from the pain. He walks down the small bathroom to slide down against the tiled wall beneath the window. He tucks his knees close to his body to rest his forehead atop of them.
The bell rings twice, signalling the end of lunch. He’s in no mood to go back to class, to go inside and let them see what they did to him. Let them see that he cried because of them. He won’t give them the satisfaction.
What does it matter if he’s missing class? He’ll be in detention, so what? They’ll call his parents. As if they cared. A new set of tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. Reggie blinks quickly, but his breathing is wet and ugly.
He sounds pathetic.
He grabs at his hair, pulling hard, anything to distract him. The burning at his scalp feels good, lets him focus a little better again.
The squeaking of the door lets him look up. A boy stands in the door, eyes wide as he stares at Reggie.
He’d hoped, since he’s at the upstairs bathroom, that nobody would disturb him. Apparently he was wrong.
“Is there something to see?”, Reggie snaps, because he’s had enough of stupid high schoolers for now. He just wants to be left alone. The boy looks him up and down, even if that’s not much in his current position and then closes the door behind him as he leaves.
Reggie inhales deeply, trying to calm himself. His nose throbs. Reggie rubs at his eyes, the left one pulses sharply when he touches it too roughly and he lets his hand fall again.
He’s not sure how much longer he’s sitting there, when the door squeaks again and the same boy walks in. He has a determined look on his face. He goes to the sink and wets a few towels carefully, then, slowly, as if not to spook him, he comes to Reggie, kneeling in front of him. Blond hair falls into his blue-green eyes.
“I’m gonna tidy you up a bit, okay?”, he says, his voice calm, but determined. There’s no trace of a joke or any kind of malicious intend, as he stares down at him. So, after a moment, Reggie nods.
The boy reaches out for him delicately, cupping his face into his hand and gently rubbing and dabbing across his face. It’s a bit rougher at his cheek and chin, where, Reggie supposes, the blood has dried and crusted and won’t be as easily washed away.
When he moves towards his nose the boy is so gentle, it hurts. The pressure is still unpleasant, but it doesn’t cause him any pain. The boy folds the used towel and sets it aside to grab a new one to carefully place on Reggie’s left eye.
“Much better, already”, the boy smiles gently.
“Thanks”, Reggie croaks. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him so cautiously, as if he might break.
“Your shirt’s next”, he says and Reggie shakes his head. The wet paper towel on his eye slides off and Reggie pulls it back up.
The boy frowns. “You sure you want to walk around like this?”, he asks and Reggie shakes his head again, holding onto his left eye this time.
“No – it’s not clean yet. I have to clean it”, he mumbles. The boy stares at him. He doesn’t laugh or ridicule him for it, he simply nods.
“It needs to be cleaned”, Reggie pleads.
“Alright. How about you give me the shirt and I’ll try to clean it at the sink. You can watch me the whole time. Meanwhile-”, he raises the small bundle he carried when he entered, “-you can wear this.”
He’s holding a band t-shirt in his arms. The Offspring. Reggie hesitates, rubbing his palm over the front of his shirt. But then his eyes catch the stains and he swallows.
“Fine”, he agrees. The boy helps him to carefully pull the shirt off his body, tugging a little so the fabric doesn’t touch his face and isn’t further ruined. Then he slips into the new shirt. It’s a little bigger than his own, but it’s soft. Reggie reaches around his middle to ease the knot from his flannel to wrap it around his arms as well.
He feels more like himself this way.
Meanwhile the boy got up, and walked back towards the sink. He lays his t-shirt carefully down the second sink that is not dirtied by all the blood and reaches for the liquid soap. He presses it into his shirt with calm movements, rubbing with his thumb over the spots, methodically moving and rinsing the blood out.
“What’s your name?”, Reggie finally asks into the silence.
The boy looks up, startled, as if he’d been in his own world. Maybe he had.
“Oh, I’m Alex”, he says.
“Don’t know any Alex’s”, he mumbles and Alex snorts. “Only heard that rumour about the bleachers with-”, a loud slap stops him. Alex has turned the shirt around, inspecting it. All his attention turned to the piece of fabric.
Oh.
“Thank you, Alex”, he says. The blond turns towards him, smiling tightly.
“You know, if you want me to leave, you just have to say so”, his voice is tight and he’s stopped moving. Instead he’s gripping the edges of the sink. His whole body is tightly wound and Reggie wonders what he must have endured to be so collected, being able to ask the question so casually.
“No!”, Reggie says quickly. “I – I don’t want to be alone. I don’t mind. I don’t care!”
Alex watches him for a moment, just stares into his eyes, as if he’s able to judge Reggie’s intentions simply by looking into his eyes. After a long moment, in which Reggie refused to breathe, Alex nods and his body relaxes.
“You’re the first then”, he says, continuing to lather the shirt up and rinse it out.
“I’m Reggie, by the way”, Reggie says. Alex throws him a tiny, sincere, smile. There’s something on his face Reggie can’t quite identify. But it’s not mean, so he dismisses it.
“Hi Reggie”, he says and his voice has gone much softer now. He likes that. He returns the smile, even if his nose hurts doing it.
“Hi Alex.”
Alex raises the t-shirt up and squints at it. Then he rolls it together, to squeeze the remaining water out of it. He comes back and sits down opposite from him, cross-legged.
“There’s nothing more I can do here. If you trust me, I can take it home. My mom has this weird stuff that makes all the stains disappear. I can bring your shirt back in a few days.”
Reggie looks at his t-shirt in Alex’s hands. He’s cradling it carefully, as if he knows how important it is to Reggie. It’s still hard to trust anybody his own age. He hasn’t completely since-
“You take good care of it?”, he asks, voice small. He feels cold drops running down his cheek and swipes them away.
Alex smiles at him. “I swear”, he says.
Reggie nods and exhales. “I – I trust you”, he says.
“Thank you”, Alex replies, smile sincere and open. There’s a softness in his smile. Reggie likes that. He doesn’t know Alex, but he wants to. There’s already a deep-rooted want inside of him that makes him want to know him.
“It’s a cool t-shirt”, Alex says after folding it up carefully. “I always wanted to see Green Day.”
“Yeah”, Reggie says. There are still pieces of memories burned into his brain. Like when Alfie bought him the t-shirt and ruffled his hair. “It was an amazing concert. Went there with my brother.”
“Good taste in music. You and your brother.”
Reggie laughs. It feels good, talking like that. Like his brother’s still alive. “Yeah, he does. Helped me find all different sorts of genres. He taught me how to play the guitar and the bass. Even got me a banjo when I said I liked country music. He never judged me …”, Reggie trails off, his eyes caught on the faint red spot of the grey t-shirt.
Something on Alex’s face clears, like he remembers something. Then he’s back in their conversation. “He sounds special, your brother”, Alex comments quietly. There’s a sad pinch between his eyebrows. “I actually play the drums”, he says.
“Really?”
Alex hums. “It helps me when everything gets too much.”
“Yeah”, Reggie agrees. “Things tend to become too much too fast.”
They become quiet after that, both sitting on the bathroom floor, watching each other. It somehow feels intimate. Alex is the first real person to really interact with him at his new school. The first one to be nice to him.
Alex leans forward, slowly lifting the wet paper towels from his face. There’s still that pinch between his brows and his lips curl together in thought. Carefully he taps his face, becoming even softer when Reggie flinches when Alex gets near his nose.
“We should get you to the nurse”, he says after a moment. “I just want to make sure nothing’s broken. Do you want me to come with you?”
Alex offers it so effortlessly, his head spins. He’s not leaving him alone now that Reggie’s clean. Well, he even offered to clean his t-shirt for him.
“That would be great”, he says in a low voice. Alex simply nods and gets to his feet. He helps Reggie up and stabilises him, when his head starts spinning and his legs become weak.
“I got you”, Alex mumbles. This close, he can actually smell the other boy. Sweat and vanilla mixed together. It’s a nice smell and somehow it fits him. Alex wraps one arm around him and the other over his own neck. They start walking like that.
They only stop once in front of the lockers, placing Reggie’s t-shirt safely inside. Reggie can see a few chemicals at the bottom and when Alex closes his locker, there’s some faded pink paint at the edge. He can’t inspect it any further, because Alex is already walking, pulling him with him to continue their walk to the nurse’s office.
The older woman scoffs when s he sees them and makes him sit on top of the stretcher, wedged into the corner of the room. Her touches are way rougher than Alex’s were. She prods and presses and rubs. She tidies his nose with alcohol, gives him two cooling pads and then sends him back to class.
Reggie’s shivering, when he leaves the nurse’s office, grabbing for something, anything and is relieved when he has Alex’s hand there, keeping him grounded.
“I don’t want to go back”, he whispers almost desperately, staring at the other boy.
“Then we won’t”, he says simply and Reggie almost barks a laugh at how easy this seems to be for him. They walk down the hallway and up the stairs.
“Where are you taking me?”, Reggie asks. Alex smiles and simply winks, but doesn’t say anything. For some reason it makes Reggie blush and he ducks his head quickly.
They end up on the roof, or better said, the roof patio. It’s not big, but there are chairs and tables and plants. The fresh air tickles against Reggie’s nose.
“I didn’t know this was here”, he says, amazed.
Alex shrugs. “It’s supposed to be for the seniors, but everyone’s in class and nobody cares”, he sits down in one of the chairs and stretches his legs, sighing. He closes his eyes and turns his face towards the sun. His hair shines golden in the light.
He’s beautiful, Reggie realises with a start.
Something twists inside of him. He sits down hurriedly next to Alex, watching first him, then the sight stretched out before them. From up here everything seems lighter. Easier.
“Thank you”, he says. Alex turns his head towards him, but his eyes are still closed. “For skipping with me. For me. For helping me.”
Alex shrugs, but his lips curl into a smile that leaves Reggie breathless. It doesn’t seem to be a big deal for Alex, but for him it is. It really is. “If it weren’t for you, I would still be in the bathroom”, he says. This time Alex does open his eyes.
“Can I ask what happened? If you don’t want to share, you don’t have to.”
Reggie swallows, playing with the sleeve of his flannel. “My brother’s dead”, he says and for the first time he says those words they sound flat. He’s not sure what to make of it himself. “ It’s one of the reasons why we moved.” He shrugs, pulling on a thread from his flannel. “Some asshole found out and … he said Alfie deserved it. He was nothing but a worthless drug addict and I-”, he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay that threaten to take him over once again. “I – I just … snapped. The guy was bigger than me, though. He got a few punches in as well.”
Alex laughs dryly. “Sounds like he deserved it”, he says and then he takes his hand haltingly, holding just onto his fingertips for a moment . Reggie smiles and relaxes back into the chair and the grip tightens, becomes more real as it engulfs his entire hand.
“Yeah, he’s an ass.”
There’s a calming silence between them. The birds are chirping and the wind blows a nice breeze through his hair.
“Are you often up here?”
“Not really. Like I said, it’s usually reserved for the seniors. But sometimes I sneak up here when everybody’s in class. Mostly when it’s too much.”
“Yeah, you mentioned you play the drums, when that happens.”
Alex nods. “I do, I started when I was small. I’ve always been anxious and banging on drums is an amazing stress relief. But I can’t just do that at school. So I search for places to calm me down”
Reggie swallows, he wets his lips. There’s this tentative relationship he and Alex have. He really wants it to develop into at least a friendship. He likes Alex, so far he’s been nice and supportive and understanding. “Maybe … maybe you can teach me some time?”, he asks quietly.
The wind blows Alex’s hair into his face, he can’t see his immediate reaction.
“How about you come around? I have a band and you can play with us. Show us all your skills on your banjo”, when Alex smiles at him now it’s softly teasing, but it makes something open up in Reggie, something warm.
“Really?”, he asks almost desperately, leaning closer. He’s been alone for the last few months now, always ducking away, hiding in his room or walking along the beach to avoid the chaos at home. Moving here has felt freeing, for finally he wasn’t the younger brother of Alfred Peters, a drug addict apparently, who died of an overdose. Finally he was Reggie Peters again, only to find out that nobody cared for him. Alone the world was just bleak.
Alex has been the first ray of sunshine in months.
“Really”, Alex assures him with a smirk. He gently cuffs the back of his head and Reggie barks out a laugh.
“Mercer! Peters!”
The boys jump in their seats. The football coach is standing in the door, watching them – no watching Alex. When he turns his head back to the blond, he has a dark and defiant look on his handsome face.
“Up here to seduce more unwitting souls”, he snarls. Alex curls his other hand, that is not curled around Reggie’s into a fist, not saying a word, just staring.
“He’s helping me!” Reggie immediately defends Alex. He can hear a breath being punched out of Alex’s chest in surprise. The coach blinks at him, dumbfounded for a moment.
“Of course”, he says, placating in a too sweet voice. “That’s what he always does. Helping poor souls to find their way. The football team has a special word for someone like that-” with a sudden burst of force Alex jumps from the chair and heads towards the door, trying to slide past the coach, who stops him with a firm arm across his chest. The sudden loss of warmth on his hand makes Reggie look down. He expects his hand to look different. It doesn’t.
“Detention”, the man says, handing Alex a blue slip. Then he lets him go, but not before whispering “fag”, loud enough for Alex and Reggie to hear, making his head snap up and fill him with a completely new kind of energy.
Reggie’s about to follow Alex, but the arm that stopped Alex is also stopping him. “Detention”, he says, holding the blue slip towards him. Reggie takes it, anger curling in his stomach, leaving an acidic taste on his tongue. “Let me give you one piece of advice. Keep away from Mercer, his intentions ain’t as pure as he makes them out to be.” With that he turns around, walking down the hallway.
When Reggie hurries down the stairs, Alex is nowhere to be seen and the warmth is steadily slipping out of his chest.
T he rest of the classes go by in a blur. Most teachers take one look at Reggie’s face and let him be. He ignores the whispering around him and the occasional snicker. He takes his notes sporadically, his thoughts slipping away towards Alex, who, as it turns out, is in neither of his two last classes.
His eyes slide off the clock and back to his notepad, when he hears a small thump. There’s a piece of paper rolled into a ball. Reggie turns his head, until he sees a boy with brown hair and a sleeveless shirt staring back at him, nodding towards the paper. He opens it carefully, his hands hurt from the punches, now that the rest of his face has dulled down thanks to the ice.
Are you okay?
It says in the worst handwriting Reggie has ever seen. But it’s readable. Reggie takes a moment, before he answers with a glitter pen: I’ll be fine.
He throws the paper back and the boy catches it with his right hand. His knuckles are red and he holds his pinky stiffly.
I saw the end of your fight. Darlings definitely deserved it! Is what he gets back. Reggie almost laughs at the last name. That asshole is definitely not a darling.
“Twenty minutes, go!”
Reggie’s head snaps up from the paper to see students moving desks together. Sleeveless walks towards him and sits on the now unoccupied seat next to him.
“Wanna be partners?”, he asks.
“Sure. But, what are we doing exactly?” At that Sleeveless laughs, it’s short but it’s sincere and it’s happy. He likes that.
“Not sure either”, he says. “I’m Luke by the way.”
“Reggie”, he introduces himself. Luke grins at him and then nods at his t-shirt. Or, well, at Alex’s t-shirt.
“I like The Offspring. They’re wicked good.”
“Oh, um, yeah, me too, it’s not my t-shirt, though.” Luke’s eyebrows rise towards his hairline, but he lets the topic fall.
“You like music?”, he asks then. The teacher writes the assignment on the board and Reggie hurries to copy the words into his notebook, to at least appear like he’s working.
“Yeah I do”, he says and it’s funny, that the two people who actually dare talk to him share his love of music.
“Play any instruments?”, there’s a glint in Luke’s eye Reggie can’t quite identify, like maybe he already knows the answer. He’s leaning close, almost as if to conspire, and Reggie somehow really enjoys the atmosphere. Luke’s wild and passionate and he doesn’t seem to care about the dirty looks he receives from his classmates.
“Bass and guitar”, he whispers into their bubble. From here he has en excellent view of Luke’s eyes, but he fails to properly describe them. “I also shred on the banjo.”, he says quickly, after he realises that he’s been staring.
“Sick”, Luke grins. It’s an easy laugh. He taps with the back of his pencil against Reggie’s arm. “You know, I have a band. We could totally use someone who knows how to play bass.”
“Oh”, Reggie says. He doesn’t know where he and Alex are standing, but he can’t agree to that. “I was already asked by someone else”, he admits. The fire in Luke’s eyes dims, but it doesn’t vanish completely and then it’s renewed, like the rejection spurred something on inside of him.
He bites down at his pen in thought, his tongue peeking out slightly. “Well, tell me if they suck. ‘Cuz we’re definitely gonna make it”, the smile is back on and Reggie can’t help but nod.
“I’ll think of you”, he promises. Luke clicks his tongue.
“By the way, why just ask me if I want to play with you, you don’t even know if I’m any good.”
Luke watches him for a moment, eyes resting on his face intently, making Reggie flush.
“I saw you play in the music elective. You played a killer riff, I was really feeling it”, he admits quietly, as if he’s admitting to a secret.
“So your question whether I played an instrument-”
Luke waves the comment off, like it’s not important. His easy smile stays. “I didn’t want to make you feel weird or like I’ve been watching you. I haven’t I just noticed you. I always notice talented musicians. You’re amazing.”
That, that makes Reggie flush even harder and he ducks his head down. “Thanks”, he mumbles.
They scramble to do the assignment when the teacher comes around, but Luke still grins at him and when they’re sitting together, heads almost pressed against each other, they talk about their favourite bands and music genres and Luke scoffs amused, when Reggie confesses his love for country and his first embarrassing attempts of writing songs, because he got so inspired by Dolly Parton. It’s not a dismissive sound, nothing dims in his eyes, in contrast, it gets even brighter, almost awed as he stares at Reggie.
“I love how passionate you are for music, that you even play the banjo for country”, and all it takes is this utterance to make Reggie feel like he’s understood.
Luke makes him compare their schedules, figuring out that they have a few more classes together than just econ and the music elective. They’re in the same English class and share history.
After class, Reggie blindly follows Luke, hanging on his lips. He’s being pulled towards him like a magnet, before Luke suddenly stops in front of a classroom.
“You wanna meet up tomorrow?”, he asks. “I have detention, so-”
“I have detention”, Reggie blurts out, shoving his hand into his pockets to pull out the blue slip coach gave him. He almost forgot. Luke stares at the slip, then at him. Then he breaks into a grin.
“I like you more and more”, he says as he pushes the door open for Reggie, who walks into the room. There’s only one person there, sitting at the back, staring out the window. Reggie doesn’t have to see his face to recognise his frame.
“Alex!”, Luke exclaims next to him and the blond’s head whips around, staring at Luke and Reggie alike, frowning.
“What have you done?”, he sighs deeply. Luke makes a face of complete innocent but it doesn’t fool Reggie and neither Alex apparently.
“Me? Why are you here is the better question”, he asks.
Alex’s gaze snaps to Reggie and he smiles fondly. He completely ignores Luke’s question as he asks Reggie, “How are you doing, Reg? Sorry I-”, he makes a gesture with his hand as he trails off, his face showing regret clearly in the down-turn of his mouth and the curve of his brow. The use of a nickname, even if it’s for his nickname, makes the warmth return to his chest he felt earlier with Alex.
Reggie shakes his head immediately. “No, don’t worry. Coach was an asshole.”
“Coach?”, Luke asks and now his voice sounds dangerous and his passionate smile turns into dark glower.
“Don’t worry your pretty face about it”, Alex says dismissively, but his voice is strained. “Reggie and I were skipping class and coach caught us.”
Reggie doesn’t know why Alex leaves out the slur that the man had hurled towards Alex, but if he doesn’t want to share, then it’s not Reggie’s place to say anything either, right?
It’s still weird, though. Especially thinking that the two boys he bonded with seem to know each other better than just being acquaintances.
“Don’t flirt with me to distract me”, Luke says, hopping onto Alex’s desk, but there’s a smile curling along his lips and his eyes are filled with warmth and fond, even if the expression is still serious.
“It’s not my fault it’s working”, Alex teases and Luke laughs, a deep, rough, sexy laugh.
“Are you okay, though”, he whispers, almost too quietly for Reggie to hear.
“I’m fine”, Alex nods. They keep their gazes locked for a long moment until Luke seems to be satisfied with his answer. “You met Reggie then”, Alex says, with more meaning than Reggie can decode at that moment, and nods towards him. The blond gestures for him to take a seat and Reggie does, letting his backpack fall to the ground next to Alex’s desk.
“Yeah”, Luke breathes. “He isn’t trying out for our band, though”, he says, pulling the corners of his mouth down in an exaggerated pout.
“Oh?”, Alex says and Reggie can’t help but laugh at that. “You changed your mind then?”
Luke’s head whips around, his eyes widening when he seems to finally understand what Alex is saying. “You already asked him”, Luke realises. He stares at Alex. “I thought you were so sceptical about him .” For some reason that makes his skin prickle. Did they talk about him? Did Luke talk about him to Alex once he heard him play? The though is … he doesn’t have the right word for it, but he likes it.
Alex shrugs and winks at Reggie, which makes him once again flush.
“Yeah well, I thought playing at least once with him wouldn’t hurt. He seems as into music as another idiot I know. Plus I like him and I want to hang out with him.”
“I like you, too”, Reggie repeats his words immediately and Alex’s eyes turn soft. Luke turns his head to Alex, back to Reggie and then back to Alex. He’s licking his lips and wiggles his eyebrows when he catches his gaze again. Alex grumbles and pushes him of, which makes Luke start howling with laughter.
Reggie feels like he’s missing something.
He doesn’t care, though.
“Don’t mind Luke, he’s an idiot”, Alex says, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes. Luke pouts at him.
“I like Luke too”, Reggie says, which makes Luke smile at him, but it’s not as controlled as it was before. More surprised but no less sincere.
“Good”, Alex says. “I like him too … most of the time.”
Luke sticks his tongue out towards Alex which makes him roll his eyes. For some reason, being here with the both of them makes him relax. It doesn’t feel like he’s intruding into an already established relationship, it’s more like both are holding their arms open to welcome him. Easy and soft and warm.
An embrace made entirely out of sunshine. Does that make sense? Well, it does to Reggie.
Luke wraps an arm around Reggie, the contact is nice. His eyes stay a second too long on his nose and with a jolt Reggie’s back in the moment.
This is detention.
“How did you get into detention?”, Reggie asks. Alex sits up straighter, his head turning towards Luke as well. The brunet shrugs, curling his hand around Reggie’s shoulder.
“What happened to your hand?”, Alex is out of his seat in a second, carefully cradling Luke’s right hand, that is not slung around Reggie’s shoulder. His knuckles are red, his pinky is still looking kind of weird. Then Alex takes Luke’s other hand, making Reggie lose the warm touch. The same markings are also on these knuckles. Alex sighs, softly gliding his thumb over them.
“Nothing”, Luke mumbles unconvincingly. Alex isn’t fooled either, just looking at Luke for a long moment.
“Luke”, he whispers his name softly, Reggie can here the worry in it and Luke’s eyes flit back from the window to the blond.
“I – I saw the end of Reggie’s fight”, he finally admits, an angry edge to his voice. Reggie’s gaze snaps up from their joined hands to his face, but Luke isn’t looking at Reggie. “You were already turning around to leave”, Luke says to him now, now, without turning to him “and then Darlings was ready to throw a football at the back of your head and I – I – I wanted to stop him”, Luke shrugs. Like it’s that easy.
“Mrs Martin thought I was simply attacking Darlings and he and his football goons were supporting that statement, so she gave me detention”, he shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”
“You did that for me? To stop him from attacking me?”, Reggie asks, his fingers shaking. Luke’s finally turning to look at his face. “But you didn’t even know me.”
“Yeah”, Luke says easily, simply. Like that’s how it is. “You needed help and I wanted to help.”
“Just like that, hm”, Alex says, smirking at the brunet, who quickly pokes him in the side, making him drop his other hand. But he’s chuckling now.
“Just like that”, Luke repeats, giving Alex a look. The blond is already opening his mouth again to reiterate, when a teacher walks in. He closes it and sits back down in his seat. Luke and Reggie follow his example.
There’s really nothing to do, whenever Luke tries to whisper to either of them, their teacher clears her throat and the boy falls silent, chewing on his lip instead. It’s red and plush by the end and Reggie can’t stop looking, it’s like his eyes are drawn to it automatically. The one time Luke catches him, he smirks, which makes Reggie flush hot and focus on any kind of school work harder without thinking of Luke’s (very, very red) lips.
It doesn’t work.
By the end all Reggie’s done is doodling some things.
Luke’s out of his seat the second the time’s up. Alex is packing his stuff in a more leisure pace with Reggie.
“He almost acts like he’s allergic to school”, Alex teases. Luke rolls his eyes.
“Well, no, but it’s not like most of this will help us when we reach rock royalty”, the way Luke says it, doesn’t allow any doubts. And it’s honestly admirable. Reggie’s never been sure about anything in his life, except how much he loves his brother and that he will be miserable without him.
“Do you need to be anywhere?”, Alex asks, turning back to him. Reggie quickly thinks of his drunk father and his overworked mother, who recently started drinking as well. There’s no urge to go home.
“No”, he answers firmly.
“You wanna come to the beach with us?”
He does.
They make a quick detour to their lockers, making sure to meet back in front of the school when they have everything. Alex is tense when he comes back, his fist clenching and unclenching until Luke takes it and intertwines their fingers.
“Again?”, he whispers and Alex nods. “We’ll do that tomorrow, together”, Luke promises and presses a kiss to Alex’s knuckles.
It should have been obvious before. They’re a couple. When Alex looks at Reggie, he does so with knowing eyes and a tense mouth. “You okay with this?”, he asks and Luke turns around, as if he didn’t realise what he did. (He probably didn’t.)
Alex is beautiful with his blond hair and his ocean eyes and that look that makes Reggie feel seen and Luke is hot with his sleeveless shirts and his smirks and that biting of his lip. He would have to be a hypocrite to not be okay with this.
“Yeah”, Reggie breathes and smiles. He can see Alex relax, muscles loosening and Luke grinning towards Reggie, wriggling his eyebrows which does all kinds of weird things to him.
“I told you”, he tells Alex with a strange kind of emphasis.
Luke and Alex guide him through a few alleys, winding streets until they reach the beach in record time. He sees Luke brush his hand against Alex’s, a short and fleeting touch, but there nevertheless. Now that he’s aware of their relationships, he’s more attentive.
He’s not sure whether that’s a good thing or not. His thoughts are stuck on that.
They wander along the sand, having pulled their shoes off and stuffed into their backpacks. The conversation with them is easy, as is everything with them. They keep talking about music and then Luke starts singing and Reggie impulsively joins in and the harmony between them just works. People are staring at them, but Luke slings his arm around Reggie and Alex supplies a rhythm and Reggie doesn’t care.
Once they stop Luke’s looking at him with stars in his eyes and there’s a hand at the small of his back, belonging to Alex. It’s warm and somewhat possessive and Reggie wants to succumb to that feeling forever .
They get a few hot-dogs together and sit down. Alex rolls his eyes when he swipes ketchup off Reggie’s chin and licks it off his thumb. Reggie’s eyes bug out, but Luke laughs and Alex smirks.
They stay there until the sun is setting, stealing some of the warmth away, but Reggie’s feeling elated, because there are constant touches and looks . He feels seen and noticed and valued.
Tourists and other visitors are leaving, but he’s still touching Luke with one foot and Alex is playing with his hand and he wouldn’t care if the world ended right now.
It feels wrong to feel so much after just one meeting. He’s met the guys today and he’s not sure what he would do if this was one cruel prank. He’s been searching, yearning for an emotional connection for months now. It’s nothing he finds at home, not since Alfie died and the bright golden thread that was his relationship with his brother had been broken, torn in the middle the day the police visited to tell them they found his brothers body.
Reggie didn’t even know he took drugs. How hadn’t he known? Alfie’d always been so adamant to never touch any kind of alcohol or drugs. The thought is still disturbing.
The closeness now, those careful relationships with Alex and Luke built in one day are there and he doesn’t want to can’t lose them. He can’t.
“Don’t cry”, Luke whispers, raising a hand to cup his cheek. He feels grains of sand on his face, so wiping the tears away feels rougher, but the gesture still ignites something in him.
“I’m not”, Reggie insists, sniffling.
“’Course you’re not”, Alex agrees easily, pulling Reggie gently against his chest, making him rest against his collarbone. He adjusts his head, so he’s not pressing his eye or his nose against Alex. The fabric of his pink hoodie is soft. Luke crawls closer, this time wiping his hand on his trousers, before cupping his cheek again. He continues to wipe away the tears, never saying anything, never judging, just watching.
T he whole situation feels surreal. He’s warm and happy .
“Better?”, Alex mumbles and Reggie nods.
“You’re okay”, Luke whispers with such a conviction, that Reggie thinks that he might be right.
He feels like a magnet who’s finally pulled into a direction and now that he’s attached to them, even barely, he’s not letting them go. This – them – they feel like so much more. He instantly clicked with them. It almost feels too good to be true and he’s afraid. Afraid he’ll lose them again. Because now that he’s felt this connection, he’s afraid it’ll be ripped from his fingers.
Like Alfie was.
“We should probably go back”, Alex says after a while. Luke groans, but Alex is eyeing his watch and Reggie doesn’t want to be a burden, so he doesn’t argue. Even if he wished they could stay like this all night, listening to the waves.
“Where do you live?”, Luke asks finally when he’s stopped complaining. Reggie looks around. The neighbourhood looks different, but he’s fairly certain they’re kind of close by.
“That way”, he finally says and gets to his feet. He helps Luke and Alex up.
“We can bring you home, if you’d like”, Alex says and Reggie nods, somewhat subdued. They walk together, whispering among each other. Reggie doesn’t know why, but it feels right. His breathing staggers when Luke reaches for his hand and intertwines their fingers. He’s looking at him, an earnest expression on his face, as he asks “this alright?”
It’s so soft and fragile and Reggie nods enthusiastically. Luke laughs quietly, relieved and his gaze flickers to Alex, who simply smiles warmly.
His head is buzzing, because he’s holding hands with Alex’s boyfriend, who seems to be okay with it. He’s almost pulling back, when Alex squeezes his biceps. “It’s fine”, he says, his voice taking on a reassuring rumble and Reggie relaxes.
T hey’re in front of Reggie’s house far too fast. Reggie doesn’t want to let them go, his grip around Luke’s fingers tightens, who takes it in stride, smiling at him.
“We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”, Alex whispers, a promise beneath the stars.
“Okay”, Reggie agrees and then he has Alex and Luke in his arms. He can feel their breath on his cheeks. There’s a moment of hesitation, the breath lingering on the sides of his face, but then Alex is pressing a kiss on his cheek, careful not to press against his already sensitive skin. Shortly after he feels Luke’s lips on his other side and he’s breathless when they detangle themselves from him.
“Okay?”, Alex asks and Reggie nods.
“Okay”, he whispers, smiling, feeling all kinds of warm again. They linger for a few moments longer, before they finally turn around.
Reggie watches them leave until they turn a corner and only then does he sneak back into his own house and upstairs into his room, ignoring the shouting of his parents and the loud banging of doors and the sharp noise of glass crashing.
He goes directly to bed, pressing the pillow over his ears, trying to hold onto the feeling of Alex and Luke. He doesn’t fall asleep until the early morning hours, but when he does, there’s a small smile adorning his face.
The next day Luke and Alex will be waiting for him in front of the school. Together they’ll scrub the slur from Alex’s locker.
In a week he’ ll be the official new member of Sunset Curve. He’ll also have sneaked the first of many country songs to come into Luke’s notebook.
In two weeks they paint Alex’s locker completely pink and Reggie and Luke will be in detention for defending Alex. Their knuckles will be once again bruised, but there will be wild smiles on their faces. Alex will admonish them, but there’ll be a smile to his lips that will belie his words.
In a month he’ll kiss both Alex and Luke, asking what that makes them now. Alex will roll his eyes fondly, like the answer is obvious and Luke will tell him he wants him to be in their relationship. And when Alex calls them idiots, it will always warm his chest. He’ll end up wedged between Luke and Alex and this will be his favourite position to be in to come.
In a year he’ ll watch Luke and Alex die, coughing and groaning in pain. He’ll try holding onto them as his own insides are burning so hard he’s throwing up blood all over himself. His last conscious thought will be wishing to follow them soon. He won’t survive.
In twenty-five years, he’ll be back with them, safe in their embraces, ready to spend eternity with them.