Tender Hearts Only Get Torn Apart

I want to extend an amazingly huge thanks to my only reviewer so far, Dekorx_Ao !!! Your reviews really encouraged me to write more, and so thank you. Very much. Seven reviews, you’re kinder than kind.
Also, new summary. I tried making it better without giving away too much, and it wouldn’t letme type more than that. Eheh! Enjoy the chapter.

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[Jason’s POV]

It was deathly quiet, the only sound the crinkling of the light brown plastic bags swinging on Alex’s thin wrists. The damn box I was carrying had a few cans clinking softly in it too, and it was getting annoying. I heard every sound amplified by a million, and the speed of light carried the steady in-out of Alex’s breathing to caress my ears gently. My whole world was tilting, and I was simply ignoring it and looking straight ahead at the cracked cement I treaded on.

The silence ate away at me. Like I’ve said a gazillion times- I HATE silence. It gives me way too much time to think. I’m not used to thinking, since I’m usually a very spontaneous person. And these thoughts really were not the kind to be thinking at near ten at night on a dark deserted street with a hot man in tight pants walking a few scant feet behind me.

“I lied, you know.”

His voice, throaty and low, made me jump and give a close-mouthed yelp into the humid air. I stopped on the curb, in front of the pedestrian crossing leading to my street, and turned to stare at him, wild-eyed. I could barely make him out, but he had his head tilted down and the toes of his shoes pointed together. I bit my lip, trying to calm my raging heart beat. ‘Get it together, Jason, he’s just a guy- not to mention one who hates your guts.’

I only then managed to process what he’d actually fucking said- lied? About what?

“About what?”

Well that certainly proves my point about being spontaneous. I’d barely even thought it before it was flying out of my mouth like post-moonshine vomit.

Alex’s dark, wide eyes bored into mine. “About the art supplies,” he murmured. “They’re for me, not my brother.”

I nodded and started walking again. He followed closer this time, and our steps were much, much slower. I didn’t understand why he had lied, maybe he was just insecure, but there was obviously more coming. I was just freakin’ happy the guy was talking to me- it was more than I’d hoped for, and Jason Brooks is a very easy man to please.

“I’m not sure why I lied. I guess I was scared to let you know that I was an artist, or something. I think I was scared to let you know anything. But I’m okay with telling you now.” I stopped again, and Alex looked back at me awkwardly, his face relaxed but his dark eyebrows tilted down. “What?”

“Why are you telling me? Waddaya want exactly?”

Alex laughed quietly, and it was like angels singing. I’d never heard a more wonderful sound. “Because in return for my honesty about myself, I want to hear you talk about you. Tell me something about yourself, Jason.”

I nearly died right there. I swear I was so damn glad the box was covering my groin, because the way Alex had whispered those last few words while staring right into my eyes had nearly done me in. My brain had just lost about twenty percent of it’s blood flow in that moment.

Talk about intense.

“W-well.” I was stammering as we started up our walking again. Alex was standing right next to me now, not even a foot away, his brown eyes glittering in the streetlamp’s sickly orange glow. “What is it you w-want to know?” This box was getting really heavy way too fast. Suddenly, I was thankful that my house was only about five minutes away.

“Well, how about we start with something simple- what’s your favourite color?”

“Red. My whole room’s done in it.”

“Oh. Mine’s green. Maybe yellow. Dunno. Anyways, what’s your favorite band?”

I smiled. “Anti-flag, probably. I listen to Sunny Day Real Estate a lot though. You?” Oh my god, I cannot believe I am having a normal, human conversation with the hottest man in town.

“Uh, I actually like Blink 182... Like, a lot. I haven’t listened to a lot of music lately though, what with the move and all.” The way Alex walked was cute. He’d sling one foot in front of him, pull it back slightly, then place it down gently. Then he’d swing his hip slightly more to the left than the right when he switched feet. He noticed when I went silent, and I looked up from his hips to stare right into his eyes. I smirked through my hair at him. Perfect time to play a Brooks joke on the new guy.

“You know why that house was for sale?” I kept my voice quiet, low and creepy. Alex was immediately interested.

“No… why?”

Ah, a little hesitation there, eh? Goood.

I shrugged, hiding my smile by turning. “The last people who lived there were murdered.”

Quiet. Alex didn’t say anything. I looked at him, to see if he was scared, but he was just staring up at me like he was trying to see if I was joking or not. Sadly, I wasn’t. I had a feeling this was about to get a little bit less lighthearted than just a joke.

“I’m sorry Alex, I thought you knew-”

“Who were they?” He cut me off, looking eager to know more about his house. What a morbid little man… “What happened?”

“Well…” I stared into a streetlight ahead of us or a moment, thinking about the rumours. “They were the Jenkins. Very nice folks, came all the way from England, don’t even ask me how the hell they showed up here. Any ways, I knew Robert, the oldest of the two sons. We went to high school together. His little brother, Thomas, was never really around much though. We used to play Mortal Kombat at the arcade together…” I sighed, not really wanting to think about it too much. Robert hadn’t been the closest friend I‘d ever had, but he had been a good friend nonetheless. Alex was still looking at me expectantly, a sort of ‘well?’ look on his face. I groaned, rolled my eyes, and continued.

“So anyways, everyone says that the mother moved here to get away from her abusive husband. I dunno. One day, Tommy and Ellen just didn’t go out- Ellen didn’t go to work, Tom and Robert didn’t come to school. After a week, cops went to check on the boys and their mom. They walked in, and there were a ton of flies that just poured out into the street from the house. Blood everywhere, horrible smell. Ellen was on the couch, her head blown off from a shotgun, with maggot’s living in what was left of her face. Tom was on the floor in front of the TV, a gunshot wound in his side and his neck. Robert was in the back, his room, under the bed. He was crying, and so thin you could wrap your hand around his upper arm. The cops said that it was prob‘ly their dad who did it, but they never found out- no evidence.” I shook my head, and Alex just stared wide-eyed and dumbstruck. My mouth was going dry at this point, and I realized that making myself remember was a horrible idea, but I finished telling him the story anyways.

“It took them about two hours to get Rob out and into a straight jacket. When they grabbed him, he started screaming so loud that he lost his voice, started coughing up blood and shit. I was in the crowd gathered outside their house when they finally dragged him out- literally dragged. He was screaming something about having to hide, and he had this gaping, infected shotgun wound in his shoulder. Half of his upper arm had been blown off. He hadn’t come out from under his bed for a week, just lay there in his own shit, wondering when he was gonna die…” I stopped, my voice strained. It was painful to think about. I remembered getting drunk at a party once, and going home with Robert. He’d kissed me, wet and sloppy with a taste of puke, before pulling away and passing out on my chest. I’d lay there all night, in his tiny room that smelled like jizz and alcohol, and held him while trying (and failing) to think about my girlfriend of the time. We’d woken up the next morning and taken a short hungover shower together, but nothing serious ever happened besides that kiss. Everything had gone back to normal.

“Where is he now?”

I turned to Alex, and noticed that his eyes were huge. I saw the lights of my house coming up and sighed, my chest heaving with the weight of memories.

“An insane asylum a few miles away. It’s not a bad place, I visited him once. He can’t talk much anymore because he fucked his voice up pretty bad, and he pretty much just goes through the motions of living. He told me that he’d been seriously in love with Tom, his own little brother, and that even though he knew it was wrong, it wasn’t worth living without ‘em. I haven’t gone to see him since, but I probably will soon.” I saw the porch light flicker on, and knew that mom wouldn’t bother me until I walked in. I thanked her mentally for the privacy.

It was silent for the short walk up my drive way, with Alex staring in wonder up at my house. It wasn‘t overly huge, but it was on the bigger side of average. Had to be, with seven people living in it.

We finally ended up on my door step. Alex was facing me, his brown eyes glistening with leftover tears from my story. I let out a sigh and leaned down, kissing his wet cheek. My stomach flipped, and I pulled away when he turned his head just a little towards mine. I stared at him, shocked, and then swooped down for an awkward kiss.

His lips were dry, and he let out a muffled breath through his nose when they met mine. The box stopped me from getting too close, so it was just a brief brushof chapped lips before I pulled away, staring down at him. It was dreadfully short, but my stomach was tossing and turning, and it felt like my intestines were trying to melt out of my dickhole.

Alex just stared up at me, his tears not falling anymore, with a small, sad smile on his face. He bent his knees and set the bags down, turning to go without another word.

I gave a start at that. “W-wait! Alex, I’m sorry!”

He turned, looking at me like I was an idiot.

“Won’t you come in?” My voice was so tiny, and hopeful. It made me sick.

Alex smiled, then turned again. “Matt’ll worry. Some other time!”

His voice carried from my driveway, and I smiled despite myself as he swung the bag as he walked, singing under his breath.

Tonight had been great, and I decided as I unlocked the door that I’d go visit Alex at his place tomorrow. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind. After all, he’d said ‘another time’. That meant we’d see each other again.

My heart palpitated strongly at that, feeling like it would flip right out of my mouth, and I couldn’t keep the grin off of my face as I struggled to unlock the door while holding the huge box.

The door popped open, and Sam came running and squealing towards me, holding a handful of drooled on and bitten up crayons. Mom came in shortly after, and I smiled at her. I set the box down and turned to get the bags from behind me. She grinned, and took them from me, letting Sam drag one along at his insistence. I smiled and leaned to adjust the box, hefting it towards the light and noise of the kitchen.

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After dinner, when everything was quiet and Sam had been put to bed, I crawled into the shower, damn near exhausted. My clothes were in a rumpled heap by the door. I turned the spray as hot as it would go, and just stood under the scalding water, hoping the heat would kill any germies on me, because I sure as hell was not awake enough to do something as tedious as wash myself.

I lazily pulled on my Blink 182 bunny pajamas, (Alex’s favorite band, I hummed in delight when I put them on), and fell onto my bed. I smiled like an idiot into the pillow, staring out at the oak tree and the moon behind it. I brushed my lips against the pillow, still smiling, and fell asleep wondering what Alex would have tasted like if I had dared to dip my tongue into his mouth.

There was always tomorrow to find out.

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