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"You love him?"
Alex speaks it into the quiet, past the sound of the wind and past the lump in his throat. Jackie, telling his brother she loves him so easily, no hesitation or question about it, like it's so certain that she feels it course through her, after it'd taken so long to say it to him. Jackie, right outside the house, not bothering to hide from anyone who could potentially see, about to kiss his brother, cheat on him with Cole, again.
He'd fallen into her the first time last year, felt himself mix with her until he wasn't quite sure what was him and what was hers—and then lost himself the summer after she left like all of him was hers and she took it all when she went back to New York.
Then she came back, brought the sweet, nerdy version of him with her, and he felt himself come back when he took her back.
And now she's cheating on him with his older brother again? Well, she can take what she wants, but she can't have him again.
She spins around, guilt all over her face. "Alex, it's—it's not what it looks like—"
"It's looks like you're about to kiss my brother. Again," he spits. His nails dig into his palms as he clenches his hands into fists. This angry feeling that makes his chest burn forms a lump in his throat. He doesn't like being angry. He wasn't an angry person before Jackie.
"Alex—"
"Save it." Red crescent moons in his skin when he releases his fists but he doesn't care. He's choosing to let it go—which is why he turns back into the house and leaves the pair outside, shocked. Everyone's in the living room back inside. "I'm going to my room," he announces gruffly, and instead secretly snatches the car keys on the kitchen counter on his way back upstairs.
He just got his license, he can go anywhere he likes
He just got his license, he can go anywhere he likes—and there's no way he's staying here.
In his room, he grabs his wallet off his nightstand and listens for the sound of the front door opening, of Jackie and Cole asking where is, if he's ok, before opening the window and crawling out.
He's starting to realize that he didn't really think this through. He's parked in front of the sidewalk behind your house listening to the soft hum of the car to keep the engine warm, looking up at your bedroom window. Occasionally, he glances down at his phone to see if you've replied to the text you've left on delivered yet:
alex // 11:35 PM
in ur backyard
can u sneak out?
need u
He's been waiting here for the past 7 minutes now because he had the genius idea of only messaging you once he got here, not bothering to check if you're even still awake before he left the house.
Alex sighs, beginning to give up. His head's too loud now that he's just been sitting here, either he's here to pick you up and driving off or he's just driving off. He shuts his phone off and tosses it onto the passenger seat, hand going to the gear to switch from park to drive.
No music, no voices, no Jackie, no Cole. And if he can't have you, then nothing. Just him, some empty, open dirt road that he'll find, and the sound of the wind whipping past him. Yeah, that sounds nice. That's what he needs.
A hand pressing against his chest to try and keep his burning heart rate down, he's really trying to just convince himself that he can get through what's starting to feel like a panic attack on his own, that he won't end up with his dad's truck parked around a tree, that he doesn't need your voice to ground him. He pushes the gear shift into drive with his chest swelling up in pain—then deflates when he sees the reflection of you sneaking out your window in the side-view mirror.
Your walk across your backyard turns into a light jog when you see him staring at you through the passenger side window and you climb in next to him when you finally make it to the car.
"It's weird that you're picking me up in a car now," you grin. You shift to sit with your back against the door and put your legs in his lap meanwhile he's not driving. He's wearing his burgundy hoodie. You know he likes his bright red hoodie more, but you're wearing it. "Before, you'd just walk all the way out here because you're, you know, insane."
He lets out a weak laugh, eyes on his lap as he squeezes one of your ankles. He could almost laugh if his chest wasn't so tight and if he wasn't trying to not cry: you're wearing the crocodile slippers he got you as a gag gift for your birthday. "Needed to see you now. Walking seemed like a waste of time," he mumbles.
Your back lifts off the door as you sit up to cup his cheek in your hand, he leans into your touch. "Hey, what's wrong?" He just shakes his head, turning in your hold to kiss the heel of your palm.
"I just . . . ," he starts, breathing trembling, ". . . wanna drive. Away, get out, and I wanna take you with me."
You gulp. "Ok." You pull away from him and sit up straight in the passenger seat, pull your seatbelt across your chest and click it in. "Ok, drive."
You close your left eye and hold up Alex's new driver's license next to his face, close enough to you that his picture is in line with his head. "You look cute," you say after a while. You're parked at the edge of a cliff, overlooking dark fields. Buried deep in the trees, a perfect clearing to see the moon. He hasn't talked about why he's upset yet, just let you mess with his license. "Most people. don't. I look horrible in my ID. But you don't. You look cute."
And he really does. Alex's resting face consists of wide eyes, a soft face, and the tiniest twitch of the corners of his mouth that make him look like he's constantly smiling.
Even now, with his sad eyes, you can see his mouth turning into a soft smile. "No, I don't," he mumbles, pushing your hand down so the driver's license falls with it.
You huff. "You wanna talk to me now?"
He reaches out for your wrist and tugs. Needs you, needs you, needs you. "Jackie, she, um," he sniffles, only realizes he's started to cry when he wipes a tear away. "She cheated again." Your heart drops and your jaw goes with it. You're about to say something when he lets out a bitter laugh and adds, "With Cole. Again. My girlfriend cheated on me with brother. Twice."
You sigh, eyes heavy and sad. He lifts your wrist to press the heel of your palm against his cheek. He looks like a kicked puppy. "I'm so sorry, Alex. What do you need?"
"You. Just . . ." He still hasn't let go of your wrist, and he maneuvers your arm to kiss your pulse. ". . . You."
You watch quietly as Alex kisses up your arm for a moment, his eyes closed. Your heart is beating hard against your chest, you're very aware of your breathing, shaky air rattling into your shallow lungs. You have to think just to breathe, it's hard to focus when your attention is all on the fact that his lips are up to the crook of your elbow. "Alex—" you manage.
Alex finally flutters his lashes open, looks up at you all teary-eyed. "Can I have you?" His voice is a whimper with the inflation of a whine, and you can see just how much he needs it. You find yourself nodding, mindlessly, rendered weak by the sheer begging just on his face. Another whimper, he pulls you across the console, from the passenger's seat to straddling his lap on the driver's and buries his face in the crook of your neck. "Thank you," he mumbles against your skin.
Wet kisses on your throat and his hands gripping your hips, you let him grind you into his growing bulge and go pliant on him, allowing him to use your body for comfort.
"You're so pretty, you know that? So pretty, so nice to me. You're the best best friend . . . So pretty, so nice, so perfect . . . ," he rambles into your skin. it doesn't sound like he's thinking about it, defenses down as he kisses across your skin and tugs on the waistband of your pajama pants.
"You're real talkative now," you quip breathlessly. Your stomach is starting to twist in a hot know, hands trembling. You put them on his shoulders to contain yourself. This is a version of Alex you've never had before but that you've always craved.
"It's all true." His hand skirts just into your pants. "Can I . . . ?" You nod and he taps your hip as a silent 'lift'. You do, and he helps you work your bottoms off. He groans when he sees your underwear, head falling back against the headrest. They're nothing too special, just white with a strawberry pink and a little pink bow, but oh, does it work for him. "God, you're so hot."
You gulp as his hands glide up your sides slowly, bunching your hoodie and shirt up and over your chest. He's pulling them both off you all at once when you ask, "Alex, are you sure this is what you need?"
Even as you're asking, you feel his boner straining against his jeans on the inside of your thigh. He dives in, both hands gripping your tits over your bra and licking a stripe across your collarbone. "So sure."
"We could talk about it—"
Alex unclasps your bra and lets it fall. "I'm done talking. I just wanna shut my brain off." He takes a moment to admire your body: the curves of your breasts, the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips into the thick of your ass and the plush of your thighs . . . he doesn't realize that his mouth is open, or that he's starting to drool, or even that he's biting his lip now. You feel hot under his gaze, under his darkened eyes, and your face flushes. "You seriously are perfect. I should've just gone for you instead of taking Jackie back."
His clothes come off next, and then you're both in the driver's seat in just your underwear. Hot skin on hot skin, you run your hands up and down his defined biceps. He threw himself into the farm and the horses this summer after Jackie left, got all muscular—well, more than he already way. Anyway, he's looking up at you like he wants to devour you as you do. "If this is about making you feel better, are you sure you don't want me to just go down on you? Focus on you?"
He has to admit that the thought of your warm mouth wrapped around him, you on your knees for him, worshipping him makes his cock twitch in boxers, but that's for another time. Intimacy, that's what he wants. Not just pleasure. He shakes his head, wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you in chest to chest. "No. I just wanna feel close to you."
The kiss you give him is soft, sweet. He caresses your thighs, his hands run electric up your skin. "You deserve so much better than Jackie," you say against his mouth. "i could treat you so much better if you'd let me."
Alex pulls your underwear to the side. "Yeah? You wanna be good for me?"
Oh, fuck. If you weren't already wet, you definitely are now. He feels it when he runs his fingers up your folds, you draw in a sharp breath. "Let me be good for you," you say breathlessly.
He pulls his boxers down just enough so his dick springs out and presses against your cunt. "Up," he instructs. You do as he says and lift up, he lines up with your entrance and you sink down on him. Alex whimpers—fucking whimpers, and grips your hips with both hands for purchase. "Jesus christ, you feel so good—" His voice is strained, his brows are knitted deep in pleasure.
You wrap both hands around the back of his neck to pull his face closer to yours, nails going into his hair to lightly scratch his scalp. "Can I move?"
"Please."
You raise your hips and sink back down. Up, down, up, down, up, down . . . You build a steady pace as you ride him, one that has him chewing on his bottom lip hard to try and contain his noises. Still, little moans and whimpers escape anyhow. The car rocks with your movements, creaking. You're getting wetter the more his thick cock rubs against the spongey spots inside you that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head—it's all soft grunts and moans and squelching in here now.
"Shit, you make me feel so full—" You grind down on him in a certain way and he groans, a hand skirting to grope at your ass. "You're so hot, you know that? I've been into you for years." You tug at his hair, pulling his head up to look at you.
God, he's fucking gorgeous. His face is all furrowed up, fucked out in pleasure. That look is a silent 'your pussy is fucking lethal.'
"You're so tight—so wet—" He can't even manage a full sentence, every other word is followed by a desperate moan. he's trying so hard to contain himself, you can feel it in the tight grip he has on your ass and your hip—and then his hips involuntarily buck up to meet yours.
You gasp, dropping your forehead against his. You kiss him and realizes fucking up into you works, and keeps doing so. A good thrust makes your mouth fall open, little moans slipping out. You don't really speak, just let your hot pants mingle and your desperate eyes do all the talking. The window is fogging up with humid heat building up from your hot fucking, and when your hand launches out to press against the cold glass just to support yourself, it slides and squeaks against the condensation, leaving behind a stretched hand print as evidence of your sin.
Your thighs are starting to cramp up but you don't care. You're close, real close, and when his hand on your hip moves down and starting toying with your pulsing clit, you let out a surprised moan in the form of a high-pitched, "Oh!" You tighten around his doc, he groans and squeezes the plump skin of your ass again. "Alex," you whine, he whines your name back in response.
"I'm—I'm gonna cum," he whimpers, giving you sloppy but almost feverish, strong thrusts.
You nod, digging your nails into the back of his neck. Midnight blue acrylics creating little pink crescent moons in the nape of his neck. "Yeah, me too. Give it to me."
You pull him into a hard kiss to muffle both of your noises as you both cum. He twitches inside you, you tremble against him. He holds you close to him, sweaty chest to sweaty chest, and offers a few weak thrusts to ride out your highs before you both just . . . flop. Heaving.
Alex, brushes your damp hair back from your face and then cups your face, just looking at you. "Thank you," he pants.
Quiet, until his phone starts buzzing. He groans, more so when you climb out of his and he's no longer inside you. You're in the passenger's seat and putting your bra back on when he fishes his phone out of his jeans on the floor of the car.
You catch a glance at the name—Nathan—when he answers the call on speaker and sets his phone down on the dashboard. "Yeah?" he asks. There's a bitter quality to his voice, and audible eyeroll, like he just can't bare the fact that someone would dare interrupt your moment.
"Hey, where are you? Mom and dad just got home. I told them you're already asleep but . . . And they'll probably notice the car's gone too, soon."
You're both dressing now. Alex sighs, hoodie over his head. "Um, I went out with Y/N. Just, like, I don't know, wanted to clear my head. I'll be home soon."
You sit there quietly, drawing senseless shapes in the condensation on the window, pretending like you didn't just do the most intimate thing you've ever done with anyone with your best friend.
Alex ends the call and pockets his phone. You're both dressed, the car smells like sex, and you're not looking at him. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing."
"Look at me." And you do, even if you're feeling all shy now that you've both come down. "You wanna talk about what we—?"
You shake your head, pulling the seatbelt across chest and clicking it in. "No, it's ok. We have to get home now, anyway."
You can see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he's mulling it over in his head before finally giving in. "Yeah, ok." He turns the key in the ignition, the engine revs to life.
You're just about to fall asleep when your phone buzzes on your nightstand. You groan, reaching a lazy hand out to check the message.
alex // 2:07 AM
it wasnt just sex btw
i hope yk that
i really do want u
You grin to yourself, typing up a response before going back to sleep.
you // 2:08 AM
ive always wanted you