Chapter Text
Jack walked into the dormitory 5 minutes past curfew. A tanned boy stood on the other side of the room, unpacking clothes from a suitcase that was laid flat on the duvet covered mattress in front of him. Jack closed the door with some unnecessary force, causing the other to tense and look over at the entrance. Simon hadn’t looked any different to the red head since he had last seen him before summer. Just sun kissed, as expected. Simon met the others' gaze as he passed to the other bed. The boy couldn’t deny the weight of their shared look. As Jack passed Simon's shoulder he went back to unpacking what was left in his suitcase. The weight had affected the red head as the rush of unprocessed longing fell heavily down his spine.
“How was summer with Maurice?”
Simon was first to speak. The gentle tone of his familiar voice never failed to settle the unsteady feeling that lingered in Jack’s chest as bodies shifted in the dorm's musty air.
“Alright.”
“Just alright?”
“What else do you expect, hm? It’s Maurice for God’s sake.”
Simon only hummed. Jack hadn’t picked up his case from the floor, much preferring to stand still just behind the other boy. He’d unpack later. The school's bell went off and Jack was pulled from his mind and back to the present. Simon had moved at the same time Jack had, their shoulders brushing and their gaze meeting again as a compromise for an apology. The two shuffled around the room as they readied for bed; gathering sleep wear, brushing teeth, showering if they had to, all done in the small bathroom the dorm extended into. The head of dark brunette locks and the owner of the scrawny tan body slinked his way into bed after pulling the empty suitcase that sat on top of it off and onto the floor underneath. Jack had kept his eyes and skin to himself after the boys’ soft contact; showering, changing, and brushing his teeth all as Simon climbed into bed.
Jack still couldn’t decide what exactly he thought of Simon. He had spent years pretending they hadn’t known a thing about each other, yet he couldn’t deny the many times he had cried or fell emotional at Simon's feet. He could see the boy in the mirror, sitting up in bed with a book in his lap. The ginger tore his eyes from the boy in the mirror and finished brushing his teeth. He didn’t make a noise as he crawled into his own bed, his feet light on the wooden floor. Jack kept his back towards Simon as an inked pen scratched against notebook paper. Jack knew the other boy would be up for a while, maybe the whole night, he always was. He closed his eyes and allowed this body to lure him into a light sleep.
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Simon had stayed up late as long as he could remember. It started when he was young, the constant noise outside his bedroom door as his mother yelled and father reciprocated, making for a dreadful tango. He could never get himself asleep without waking up in fear only minutes later. Sometimes he’d be successful in soothing himself enough to find some semblance of comfort, only to be woken up by his door being opened with whiskey lined questions dripping in desperation; his mother begging for love or his father trying to prove a point. Simon soon hated night. Not much changed when he moved into Picton. Yelling was now a part of fun and games, and questions weren’t motivated by a desire to make or break one's security. He could only be grateful for that.
The morning came quicker than Simon thought. He looked up from the notebook in his hands as soft greyish-blue spilled through the window behind them. The boy clicked his pen closed and stuffed the book and pen under his pillow. Looking up from his bed at the clock he could barely make out, he discerned that he had about an hour until the first morning bell rang. Simon looked over at the peaceful body still curled up in blankets in the bed next to his own. Jack looked so gorgeous as he slept, he always was so effortlessly perfect in everything. Maybe Simon was just as strange as everyone told him he was. Maybe he could go to the shoreline during break today if the student council meeting didn’t last long.
Simon delicately slipped out of his bed and into the closet next to it, taking his uniform and heading to the bathroom to shower in hot water before the rest of the boys in the dormitory took advantage of the water heater.
Jack twisted and stirred as blue English light bled into the room and poured over him. He sat up and sluggishly looked around, blinking and rubbing eyes with fists to get rid of the last remnants of sleep. The bell had rung a minute or two ago, causing the boy’s slumber to end and for reality to come into view. Simon had been writing more, sitting at his bare desk with the same notebook and pen. He didn’t look up as Jack slid out of his own bed, nor did Jack offer any morning greeting.
The day started like any other. Jack went to his group with Maurice, Roger, and other upper classmen, while Simon sat quietly and listened to the chatter between Piggy and Ralph. Piggy was going on about his interaction with a boy younger than them, good to assume he was still in primary school by the way Piggy described his education.
“He started asking such stupidly simple questions! It was like he wanted to annoy me.” Piggy expressed as he spread jam onto a lightly toasted slice of bread. Ralph laughed and Simon smiled as his gaze shifted from his tray to the two in front of him.
“He probably was. You’re far too patient.” Ralph said after laughing, his amusement evident in his eyes. Ralph took a berry off of Simon's plate and flicked it at Piggy, the other scoffing with a smile before taking a bite of his toast. Simon's gaze wandered as the interaction fell to sweet, blissful silence.
He peered at the table just in front of them –t was actually a bit skewed to the side but still in front of Simon's own table. Jack had picked at his food as Maurice and Roger made jokes to each other, one patted the red head on the back to earn a glare, which only succeeded in making the two laugh and joke harder. Simon looked back at Ralph as the blonde asked some question that muffled itself in Simon's mind.
“Hm?” Simon's gaze settled on the blonde, brisk brown eyes meeting Simon's weird green.
“I asked if you were running for StuCo this year. You said you would last year.” Ralph asked with a foolishly hopeful smile on his lips.
“I did say that… I don’t see why I wouldn’t .”
Ralph was more than thrilled to hear Simon finally agree to another school activity that wasn’t the gardening or music club. Not that Simon never got out at all, sometimes he just refused to open up. The boy looked back down at his tray. Bread crumbs and a cup of various berries and sliced fruit to fill it. The bread had gone to Piggy, the same toast he had spread jam over. Simon picked up a sweet purple grape and crushed it in between his teeth, pulling back the uneaten half as he chewed. He stared at the unmasked center of the fruit, looking for the answer to a question that hadn’t yet been asked.
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Student Council wasn’t a new club, though its popularity had spiked over the past years as Jack gnawed on his dreams of being listened to and relied on. Classes had ended close to 20 minutes ago, the room which held the council slowly filling with students, mostly upper classmen. Jack, Roger, and Maurice all gathered by a table, a few boys doing the same around another. The red head looked around the room, just another classroom. If any more boys joined, they’d have to meet in the library. Maybe that’ll be the first change Jack will implement when he gets his role. Jack's eyes wandered to the other groups that slowly formed, his gaze falling over that same tanned boy he saw this morning.
Jack couldn’t deny the surprise in his face as he watched Ralph, Piggy, and Simon all stay for the meeting. The ginger felt a spark of angry jealousy in his core. Jack had wanted to snicker something, but before he could, a director came in and soon the room settled. The director, Mr Malory, spoke of rules and roles and the goal of StuCo. He spoke about the election and instructed those wanting to participate to stay behind after the meeting ends. The rest of the time was spent talking about goals and events that would go on throughout the year.
After the meeting, the six stayed as well as some others. Jack eyed the three to his left, only Simon caught his gaze and the ginger dropped it. Mr Malory spoke about the roles again after a sweet greeting as if they hadn’t sat through the long lecture beforehand. A plain piece of paper was laid out on the desk as well as a pen. Mr Malory had asked for names, desired roles, and free period. The line formed before Jack could fight for first, but he wasn’t in much of a rush in the first place. Due to his place at the back of the line, he was able to see exactly what everyone was running for. Slowly picking up the pen, he committed to memory each name and role on the sheet.
Jack remembered when he was smaller, before Picton, a time where mum and dad weren’t so busy, a time where Jack didn’t have to fight for their attention. It didn’t last long, as soon as Jack was placed into school he was left there for years, only getting as much as holiday letters and pouches of money every month. Picton was his home, though he didn’t want it to be. Jack tried relentlessly for his parents’ approval, earning the title of headboy in choir, being a top student, gaining recognition from his sports, yet none of it was enough. All he’d get were pats on the back and unwanted congratulations. Jack had accepted years ago that no matter how hard he tried, his efforts would fail, yet something in his head continued to push him. It wasn’t his fault his parents were shitheads. It wasn’t his fault that headboy could be given to any boy, not just him. It wasn’t his fault.
He huffed in irritation as the spark in his core ignited into a small, infectious fire, as he saw another boy trying for president. Jack's eyes traced back to the name column, gazing over the ink carving the name of one unbearably blonde boy. Ralph. The ginger's eye twitched as he stared at the name, the overwhelming need to scratch out the other's name fought with what Jack knew was right. He jotted down his name near the end of the page, his grip tight on the pen before he dropped it for the next person. Ralph was always trying to compete with Jack, he had to be… He just had to be!
The boys were dismissed after Mr Malory told them instructions for their campaigns. Jack couldn’t focus, arms crossed against his ribs, eyes glancing at the blonde and wandering to the brunette next to him as fire rumbled through his system. The boys had down time for an hour or two, Roger and Maurice dragged Jack to the field outside to play rugby. Jack took that time to play out his frustrations and by the time the supper bell rang the ginger was alright again. He huffed small laughs at Maurice and Roger’s jokes as they walked to the hall together. Dirt covered their legs up to their knees and dusted their arms.
“I’ll catch up. I want to wash off.” Jack smiled as he spoke, waving the two off as he entered a bathroom to the side of the corridor.
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Simon spent his down time with Piggy in the library, doodling in his notebook as Piggy played a version of chess by himself while babbling on about the meaning of each piece. Simon listened as he always did, his lips flipped up as soft laughs were drawn out of him every now and then.
Piggy moved a pawn. “The pawn is rather overlooked, usually written off as little more than a sacrifice. Though if it reaches the other side, its ability changes and then it’s seen as… greater.”
Simon nodded, his gaze moving from his journal to the view outside the window. “Ironic.” One word mumbled from the boy's bitten lips. Simon set his notebook down as he moved to get up. The supper bell would ring soon and Simon's hunger was making him nauseous. “I’ll be back.”
“Where ya goin’?”
“Lavatory.”
Simon left the library and descended down stairs to the nearest bathroom. As he entered, he was greeted with the silence of a room absent of any bodies. He ran a hand through his dark hair and locked himself in a stall. Simon had an overwhelming churning in his stomach that was indicative of a missed meal. He always got lost in his own thoughts, forgetting to eat. It wasn’t on purpose, and it wasn’t something he liked to do, rather a bad habit that Simon cursed himself for everytime. He exited after his nausea faded as suddenly as it had come, taking a couple steps forward until he planted himself in front of the sink.
Then Jack entered. Simon looked over his shoulder to see who had entered as he ran his hands under the running water. The two caught each other's gaze, a slight pause in both of them before Jack looked away. He took the sink closest to the door, a good couple of feet remained between the boys. Jack started to wash away the dirt on his forearms as Simon turned his own faucet off. Quickly, Jack raised his voice.
“So. Ralph’s running for president?” Jack asked as if he hadn’t known, yet something in his attitude told Simon otherwise.
Simon's wet hands laid on the sink's edge. “I suppose.”
“And you’re voting for him?” Jack glanced at the boy through the mirror, observing the way Simon's dark hair fell over his ears and forehead before turning his attention back to the dirt on his limbs.
“Mayhaps.”
“Mayhaps? Meaning you’re not sure.” Jack said as more of a statement than an ask for confirmation. Simon stayed silent. “Then vote for me.”
“I’d need to see your campaign–”
Jack cut Simon off, looking back up at him through the mirror. Jack felt betrayed. “For what? You know me, Simon. I'm a great headboy, I’d be a great president as well.”
Simon looked up from where he’d been staring at the water droplets in the sink. He stared back at Jack, opening his mouth to communicate before the supper bell rang throughout the building. The alarm left the two staring at each other, Simon deciding if the discussion was necessary. Of course it wasn’t. Simon pressed his lips together, their rough skin pressed together as his eyes stared into the pair in the mirror. The bathroom light flickered and the brunette took it as a sign to get going. He tore his eyes from the boy in the mirror and wiped his damp hands over his shirt. “You know I’d be good.” Jack persisted. He didn’t want Simon to leave, yet the brunette was heading for the door, and in a blink of an eye, the boy was gone.