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The clock above his desk was a soft drone to his senses , yet not quiet enough for him not to notice it. Every now and then, he could hear the little cogs and stuff make the minute hand move just that tiny bit; just a little bit louder than the second hand.
Only sometimes did he notice how not-silent everything was. There was a leopard frog outside his window somewhere, every now and then he could hear the baby owls that made their home in the big oak tree out back. The earth made a lot of noise, and only sometimes did he have the brainpower to notice it. He wondered what it was like to sit in the world's quietest room at that one university he saw on YouTube. The one with all the triangles and shit. The longest time in there before going kind of crazy was like half an hour, right? He could beat that. Those book of world record guys would give him a cool certificate with the fancy gold leaf stamp, pat him on the back, and let the world know how durable he was.
He was supposed to be sleeping; it was a school night. His eyes were shut... they were shut all the way... all the way even more. He was supposed to be sleeping . It seemed like he had multiple layers of eyelids. Each time he closed one, his face scrunched up more. They just never seemed to close all the way. It was weird. Why couldn't he just pass out manually? If he slept now, he could still get four hours of sleep before he had to get up for the day.
It was when the smallest hand hit the 3 that he knew he wouldn't be tempted toward the single vale of his dreamscape, so he got up.
---
The stairs were cold under Alex's feet as he descended them. Lukas had said something about sugar making people like him fall asleep faster. Ethan had like a litre of Dr. Pepper that was still in the fridge unfinished, so he got it out of the fridge. If E wanted the rest of it, he should have had the whole thing when he got it. It was sugar that Lukas had mentioned, right? Yet when the guy had told him this, there was something about his face that made him seem like he wasn't saying the whole truth. Then again, Lukas sometimes had trouble getting stuff across.
Alex lounged on the couch, feet touching the arm opposite the one his head laid on. He could relate to that, getting stuff across. Hell, he knew the dude was stressed pretty often...
He'd figured that little particular detail out one afternoon when he found a weird bottle that had rolled under the ottoman. Lukas, surprisingly, came clean about it and explained that it was his THC that he used to "declutter his mind and body."
As he took a big swig of the soda he paused, contemplating... When had he started to pick up these little things about Lukas? He wasn't a friend, was he? But if he wasn't, why did Alex feel such a strong need to defend and protect him? Was that a sign of friendship; of cowardice? He wasn’t a coward, far from it.
Ethan had an OC that he’d “based the main vibe off of” Alex. It was cool looking, and made him feel like a badass who got into fights and totally beat up his opponents. That’s exactly what he was now, a badass!
By now he was pretty much nursing the bottle of Dr. Pepper. Why would that be embarrassing? They've done a freaking braid train before! THAT'S embarrassing. Sam had made them one time when she'd seen a post about it on Pinterest, and Alex had to be the caboose, since he had the undercut. Sam was in the front, then Ethan, then Lukas.
Here's the thing about Sam: when Sam asked something of you, you didn't ever say no (that'd just make you an a-hole, and Alex punches the shit out of any asshole who makes Sam sad). So, he'd had to sit behind his rival and braid his hair.
Which was surprisingly soft . . .
Now that he thought about it, wasn't it like a trust thing to let people sit behind you, where you're most vulnerable? Like when wolves formed their hierarchy, they'd bite the back of each other's necks because that's where they couldn't defend.
He hadn't thought about that.
Alex put the now empty bottle onto the night table behind his head and pulled out his phone. He opened Tumblr for no reason other than to read those funny “Humans are Space Orcs'' posts that he looked at in the middle of the night. Maybe his phone was reading his mind, because one of Lukas’ weird fucking conspiracy theory posts was the second thing on his feed right after a short story about how an alien anthropologist was astounded by the fact that humans found ways to survive in every climate on Earth. The Dr. Pepper was probably really old and he just never noticed it in the fridge, or maybe he was just drinking it too fast. It was making him feel stiff and… sick or something.
The last time he was close enough to Lukas' face, he noticed that the scar on his nose wasn't the clean, surgical cut that he saw from afar. It had little ridges and bumps like the path of whatever had cut him was intentional, and meant to hurt. He'd made a face at that. Alex wanted to hurt the perpetrator, whoever this person was, and with his bare hands maybe... Or a very inconspicuous knife that he definitely had . Nobody hurt his friends and got away with it.
It had been when Lukas looked back at him that Alex morphed his expression into one of semi-annoyance. The bastard had kept up a stare for a moment, then glanced at the step stool under his feet. Lukas probably noticed right then, which is probably why he kept up the look, which was embarrassing. Wait, what was it that Lukas would have noticed? His questioning expression? That he was overthinking how he got the scar on his nose?
He wondered what that scar would have felt like, if he had touched it then. Would it feel as clean and smooth as it did from afar, or as rigid as it looked nearby? His hand went to touch the bandaid on his nose. He’d smashed his face against a stop sign while walking with Ethan to get snow cones earlier that month and kept the bandaid on because it made him feel cool. Lukas got that bigass scar on his nose from an actual fight. That was something; a something that Alex didn’t have in him yet. Not that level of cool anyways. Maybe Lukas could teach him how to fight better. The last time Alex saw him, it seemed like he had a lot of muscle on him. Lukas would absolutely pin him in under a minute in a wrestling match. Not that he cared, but the guy could probably beat him in anything physical… except for thumb wars. Alex rocked at thumb wars, so much that he still had his shitty little red ribbon from a contest he won at school. His awesome and manly digit-that-definitely-wasn’t-a-finger-fuck-you-Ethan was unparalleled in the art of war; IT MAY AS WELL BE ON THE SAME LEVEL AS THAT SUN ZOO GUY!
---
Said thumb was being bitten by its owner’s teeth, who was pondering his life, ability to beleaguer any who opposed his thumbs in war, and the feeling that made his chest its abode. What exactly was it? What was that thing he always sought after when he was around his friends and Lukas?
The stairs seemed even colder this time as he ascended. The second time he ascended them. Alex used each stair for both feet like Ethan and Sam often do; maybe Lukas if he was feeling gross and groggy, which wasn’t something that he often saw...
His bed was soft and the covers thick as he flopped into it. It was soft, yet, it didn't feel safe. It never felt safe when he was by himself, that’s why he had his childhood blanket that Madagascar 2 absolutely stole the name of. It was absolutely a coincidence and Alex didn’t know how they got the same name. It was just as coincidental that he couldn't find said blanket right when he was thinking about it.
Whatever, it didn’t matter anyways because he likely wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.
He knew it was his thoughts keeping him up. He hadn’t fallen asleep at a good time, and his brain was able to grasp the chance of getting too loud. He knew why, too. Alex needed to stop lying to himself. He knew what it was that he was feeling towards Lukas, and it hurt. God, it hurt.
His hand fell partially over his mouth, like it did when he saw super gross romance scenes in movies. But those movies didn’t make him feel nauseous like one might insinuate The opposite, in fact. Alex saw the appeal in it, just as he saw the appeal in the aforementioned mothman believer. But he couldn't ever say as such to anyone but himself. He couldn’t risk losing that. So, he’d wait; until Lukas came to the same conclusion or he decided not to hang around anymore. At least it wouldn’t be a romantic rejection.
That didn’t mean he couldn’t fantasize.
---
It was 3:47 AM.
Alex wondered what his hands would feel like if Lukas’ were there; if he would help him sleep by drawing simple nothings on his back like his mom used to do. What would they feel like if they were to hold him, resting on his shoulders? Not to keep Alex at a distance but to keep him close, pressed against each other in an awkward embrace.
He moved his fingers along his mouth unconsciously. What would they feel like under his lips? Alex wanted to kiss those hands. Just. Run his mouth against them and see how rough they really were. Was the rest of him the same? It was only fair he used his mouth, one of the most sensitive places on a human, to figure out the textures. Just like they were made for.
But the justification lay unentertained. Because just thinking about it was enough to get Alex’s mind to finally… finally fall away quietly.
Thanks Swirls, for supporting this fanfic. ♥
