What was bizarre to Anwar wasn't the text he was sent at approximately two twenty-eight in the morning, but rather the address to which the text was directing him to. He knew who the sender was -- Jack, who hadn't shown up at the club that night -- and so there was barely a second needed to consider it. Half an hour later, the ringleader stood before the house he'd been beckoned to, something like bewilderment on his face.
This was Jack's old house.
After the blond had moved out years ago, his parents split to who knows where somewhere else in the city, after they were given notice that the house was getting torn down. Too old, too ugly, and the neighbourhood was getting a makeover, so there was nothing they could say for their defense.
Now Anwar barely recognized this area anymore. He'd come here so often as a kid, but now the entire street was renovated with brand new houses with high glass windows and gorgeous gardens.
The lights were off in the house, but even without knowing if anyone was awake inside, he navigated through the alleyway along the west outer wall to lead him to the backyard. There wasn't much of a yard, per se, and the entire ground had been covered in a wooden deck, a rectangular pool right in the middle, lights making the water appear cyan.
It was along the upper part of the deck that he found his friend sitting, elbows burrowed into his knees. "Are you sure this is a good place to be? We could get caught, man..." He took a seat next to Jack, watching him almost carefully.
A moment later, the blond came to life. "Then why did you come?"
Anwar paused as he thought about it. "Because you asked me to."
"If I asked you to jump off a bridge," the other began, tilting his face toward him, "would you do it?"
"Depends how high it was."
That was probably the wrong answer, and Jack laughed a little disbelievingly, facing away again. The lighting from the pool gave him an ethereal glow that highlighted every blink, every facial muscle that moved, and as the water rippled, so did the reflection on his face.
"I don't really know why I came here. It's the first time I've been here since they tore it down, so even if I wanted to remember anything, there's nothing left to remember anyway."
Glancing around, the older boy noted that he was right. It seemed as though everything had been completely wiped out to make way for the new developments, leaving not even a trace of memories that they could reminisce about. But he did notice one thing. "They still kept some of the trees," he pointed out, motioning behind them. "That's something, isn't it?
Jack didn't even look relieved, nor did he respond.
So he went on. "I'll bet some snotty young couple lives here now. Who would put this much effort into a deck? It was all just grass before, so I dunno why they'd waste so much money on this."
"Because they could."
"Well, no shit. But you know, it really makes you wonder." Anwar leaned back against his hands. "Like, we didn't really come from well-off families. And then something happens, and all of a sudden you've got this opportunity to do better than how you started out. You and I didn't always have the luxuries we got now."
It was funny how life worked that way. How easily one simple phrase or one action could change your life forever, and how status could be so easily subverted. The rich could become poor. The poor could become rich. There really was no way of knowing, but it offered a little bit of hope to those who dreamed of becoming something else.
Beside him, the blond shifted. "Yeah, except the reason why I started selling drugs wasn't the same reason why you took over your uncle's club."
"No, but what does it matter?"
A sigh. "It doesn't."
"Jackie, what's been up with you lately?" By now, Anwar was frowning. "You've been way out of sorts ever since that day you were over. Is it because I kissed you? 'cause if it is, I didn't mean to piss you off. It was just a joke."
Something of a tense silence filled the air, but it was interrupted with the dealer turning to him. "Gimme your phone." He held a hand out, not accepting any other answer.
"Why?" And yet he was still picking it out of his pocket and handing it over.
Jack took the device harshly from that hand, and set it down between them. "Now get up."
"Hey, c'mon..."
"Get the fuck up, Anwar."
And so he got the fuck up, and edged around the infuriated boy. "If you're gonna fight me or punch me or something, this is really not the place to do it."
"I know." That was all the blond said before he buried a fist into his friend's shirt, forced him over closer to the pool, and then shoved him into the water with an open-palmed push.
The impact of Anwar's flailing body against the surface of the water made a huge and surprisingly loud splash that sprayed all across that side of the deck. After the initial shock had worn off, he surfaced, wiping chlorine away from his lips. "Dude, what the hell? If you wanted to go swimming, you could've told me to bring my bathing suit."
Apparently, this was also not the correct answer.
"Why do you do that?" Jack, who'd been caught just barely by the splash, stood at the edge of the pool, fury written on his face and staining his words. "Why do you have to make a joke out of everything? It doesn't make you funny. It makes you a douchebag. You are the biggest fucking asshole I've ever met in my life, you know that?"
He was practically pacing, and then he abruptly stopped. "And yeah, it is because you kissed me, okay? That wasn't funny either."
Water sloshed as the ringleader pushed toward him. "Alright, so it wasn't funny. But this isn't your house, so you should keep your voice down."
"Anwar, I'm not fucking kidding."
"I know, I know..." His hands came to the edge of the pool.
"Do you? Do you actually?" The blond came so close that he almost stomped right down on Anwar's fingers. "Because you never seem to really get it. I know you're not a moron, but you act like one anyway, and then I feel like a moron for--"
A hand brushed over Jack's ankle. "For what?"
It sent a shock up the boy's leg, but he didn't kick the hand away. "... I'm not gonna say it."
"Alright..." Those fingers suddenly gripped the material of his jeans. "Then I'll just force it out of you." Much like the other had done, he yanked the stubborn dealer into the pool, catching him completely off-guard. Jack hit the water hard, and he came back up with hair plastered to his forehead.
"I'm not gonna say it!" he reiterated as resolutely as he could, sputtering as he smoothed that hair away.
Anwar waded over to him patiently. "Then if you're not gonna tell me, show me. I mean, if you can't say it... it should be easier to just show me. Because you're sending me mixed signals here, and... I honestly don't know what to say myself."
Instinctively, the blond took a step back. "What if it's not easier?"
Eyebrow raise. "Then you should stop being such a pussy about it."
Gawking now at the words, Jack remained perfectly still, even as his friend waded to a spot right in front of him. A flurry of options presented themselves to him, all of them horrible and wussy, so he did the only thing he didn't want to but felt was the only option he would properly carry out that didn't involve him running away.
He reached up to cup Anwar's face and kissed him, hard.
It wasn't the most effective place and time for it to happen. The water had made their lips slippery and almost rubbery in texture, and his fingers slid down over the other boy's jawline, unable to grip anymore.
But like everything in life, nothing was perfect, and this was far from it.
They parted abruptly, with long fingers curled around skinny wrists, brown burning into blue. Not breathless from the kiss, but breathless from lack of words. Speechless.
"... this was a really bad idea," Jack eventually muttered, averting his gaze and tugging to free himself from the hold. And there was no resistance or forcefulness anchoring him there, so he was slowly released, partially in shock. His legs felt heavy in the water, but it was nothing compared to the heaviness in his head. Things were going off inside that he decided not to acknowledge, and he reached the outer rim of the pool, feeling almost nauseous now.
"Jack, wait." There was a sloshing from behind.
Suddenly, everything snapped back to normal with a blink. "Why should I?" he bit out irritably, planting his hands on the edge to he could push himself up onto the deck. What was the point in staying?
"Wait, wait, wait." Arms encircled his midsection and yanked him back, preventing him from leaving. "Don't do that."
"Oh my god, do what!?" The blond was angry now, squirming violently.
Anwar hovered his lips by the restrained boy's ear. "Calm down, okay?" He tightened his arms as a warning, settling his nose against a wet shoulder. "Just calm down."
It took a little bit of coaxing, but soon the squirming stopped and Jack went limp in the hold, head bowed toward the water in such a way that his hair fell around his face. He stared past one of the bright lights down at his knee, remaining quiet until the other decided to let him go.
In time, he did.
And the younger of the two covered those three steps over to the edge of the pool and stayed still, back turned. A breath was taken in.
"What?" It wasn't malicious. Only tired.
For a while, Anwar wasn't sure what to say. He tried to formulate it in his head, but couldn't manage to remember it all, and spoke without preparing. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, exhaling uncomfortably.
"... it's fine," Jack quietly assured him. "It's nothing I didn't expect."
"No, I-- listen to me." Feeling particularly irritable, he turned the other boy around by a shoulder, pressing him there against the edge and ignoring any protests. "I see your back more than your face these days. If I do this, will you promise to stop?"
Beneath those fingers, a pair of shoulders heaved with a sigh. "Do what?" It was an echo of his earlier words. Nothing could surprise him now.
"This," Anwar muttered as he brought a hand up to the blond's face, brushing drying locks out of the way so that he could lean in, effectively silencing his friend by pressing their lips together.
But before Jack could allow his eyes to slip shut, he reeled his head back.
"Don't," he warned, not exactly making a move to slip away as he anchored both palms against the other's chest. "I'm not in the mood to get pitied right now. If you think that'll make things better, well... it won't. Alright? So you stop."
Fingers slid over a hip beneath the water. "You know when there are times... when you feel you have to do something? And you don't know why, but you know that if you don't, you might lose that something forever?" A hand came up to Jack's face, cupping his cheek. "It has nothing to do with pity."
"... that was really cheesy," retorted the blond, unconsciously curling digits into Anwar's wet shirt. "Is that the best you can do, honestly?"
The elder boy laughed, leaning back in once again. "Probably." Another kiss, softer this time. "Can you blame me?"
"I still think you're an asshole." It was muttered against his lips.
"And I still think you look really cute when you're wet."
A flicker of irritation. "Shut up and just kiss me, okay? I don't care if--"
He was abruptly cut off by Anwar claiming his mouth, the rest of his sentence coming out in a muffled protest at the base of his throat. Without a second thought or consideration about why or how this was happening, Jack smoothed his fingers over the ridge of a collarbone, surrendering into the kiss as though he knew it would be his last.
It began innocently enough, but the longer the liplock was sustained, the more smoldering and insistant it became. The awkwardness of their first two kisses was completely disregarded as hands flew both above and below water, palming along curves and over soaked denim.
The first one to break away was Jack.
"Anwar," he whispered, breathless as the other boy stole smaller kisses from him. "I just want you to know..."
And another stolen. "Yeah?"
"I think you broke my phone."
"... did I?"
"Maybe. I dunno." A pause. "You know this changes everything, right? I don't mean that... anything is official, but the fact that it happened won't just... go away."
The ringleader carded a hand through his mostly-dry hair. "Do you want it to be?" he pressed, curiously.
Now the dreaded conversation came. This was going to be fun.
"... want it to be what?"
"Official."
Only silence ensued, a stifling quietness that pervaded the night air. Apart from their breathing and the rippling of the water, there was almost a complete absence of sound. There were only two answers to that sort of direct question, neither of which Jack had the ability to say. It sounded so easy to just say 'yes' or 'no', but some answers in life were honestly not that simple.
He lowered his hands. "I want it to be, but I know it can't."
Anwar looked a little confused. "And why's that?"
"Because I'm not entirely convinced that you don't want this just because you want to fuck me, and that's all it ever will be," the blond spat out, hurt woven into his expression as he attempted to flee the scene. "Or that you're only doing this because you feel like you should and not because you want to."
"Hey, hold on." Once more, the dealer was caught -- this time by the wrist -- before he could successfully get away. "Stop doing that. Stay here." He exhaled heavily. "I don't know what you want me to do, Jack. I don't know what you want me to say."
The captured boy yanked his arm back. "Yeah, well I don't know either. God, you know," he suddenly laughed, mostly to himself as he turned back to Anwar. "You could probably just fake it and I wouldn't even realize. Because getting fake affection is better than getting none at all, and to be honest, it really isn't that much to ask for, but it's so fucking hard to tell with you sometimes that I wonder if I should even bother at all anymore."
Momentarily stunned and speechless, the victim of his accusations only stared, first at the water, and then at the back of the blond's head. Somehow, he found the ability to speak. "Since when have you willingly wanted affection from someone, Jack? Why does it have to come from me all of a sudden?"
It happened faster than anyone could blink. Jack had managed to turn around and shove the older boy so hard that he lost his footing and almost fell backward into the glittering water.
"Since when have you become so fucking blind, Anwar!? Why do I have to spell it out for you?!"
"Why?" It was the other's turn to yell now. "Because whatever you think is obvious isn't obvious at all! So yeah, I think maybe you do need to spell it out for me!"
Practically seething, Jack faced the poolside once again, trembling hands coming up to graze the deck.
"Are you seriously that stupid?"
Anwar waded closer. "I dunno, I think I have to be. Just say it, okay? Tell me what the problem is. Because there's obviously miscommunication happening here, and you're the one who seems like you have the most to say, so go."
"You want to know what the problem is?" demanded the blond as he whirled around rather dramatically. He didn't even hesitate. And anger compelled him to yell it out. "I've been in love with you since high school is the fucking problem, Anwar!"
Not surprisingly, shock filtered onto the other boy's face as he took in the confession, his eyes dropping down to the rippling surface of the water. The weight of it was more intense than he imagined it would be.
"... why did you wait so long to tell me?" A glance back up.
"It..." And an awkward stumble as Jack aligned his back with the side of pool. "... just never came up. You don't have to say anything." He pushed away from the wall to edge past his friend and dive through the center of the pool to come up on the opposite side closest to the house. "Like I said, this was a really bad idea. So... just pretend none of this happened."
When he started to raise himself out of the pool, Anwar snapped out of his bewilderment. "Wait! Hold up, man."
But there was no holding up, and ignoring the call, the dealer veered away from the deck, continuing on his way even when he heard the footsteps from behind. He stepped out onto the brightly lit street, pointedly ignoring the familiar car parked right at the sidewalk.
By the time the elder boy had reached the front yard, skidding to a shaky and flailing halt, Jack was already halfway up the road, hands stuffed into his pockets and not looking like he was going stop anytime soon.
"JACK!" It was all he could think to yell.
It appeared to be effective, because soon the blond came to a slow stop. He turned beneath one of the street lamps, the glow cast on him spreading around like a lone spotlight in the middle of the dark sidewalk. And neither of them said a word for what felt like years, not even when a passing car shattered their concentration with a blast of trance music out of the open window.
Grateful for the interruption, Jack pivoted on his heel once the music and headlights disappeared at the end of the street, leaving wet footprints behind in his wake.