Alex Faulkner (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
videokilledme) wrote2018-11-01 11:01 am
videokilledme) wrote2018-11-01 11:01 am
“And The Rest Is (World) History.” Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Sixteen
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"And The Rest Is (World) History." Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Sixteen
[music]
> Connor. You know how much I hated it the last time you dragged me to a party. Why would you even bother asking me again?
Bcz THIS time its gonna b DIFFERENT!!!
THIS TIME ur gonna WANT me 2 completely abandon u!!
Alex scowled down at his phone, though one pierced eyebrow was raised in skeptical curiosity--not that Connor could see it.
> What’s that supposed to mean?
look man just show up! TRUST ME!!!
> Still don’t trust you. At all.
lol ur loss, bro
The blue-haired student gave a sigh that was more than half growl, caught between not wanting to deal with Connor’s crap any more than he had to and satisfying his curiosity. In the end, curiosity won out, and he shot off another message:
>...Just tell me why you *think* I’d want to be there.
u no that takes all teh fun out of it but
if it gets u 2 come (lol)
fine
Despite that seeming concession, it was a good ten minutes before Connor finally added:
Bianca is gonna b there
Alex nearly dropped his phone, and he had to backspace and retype his message several times due to a combination of typos and changing his mind about what he wanted to say before he managed to send off: > What? Why would she be there? She’s an athlete, not a party girl. That’s not her scene.
After a moment’s pause, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he slowly tapped out and sent another question: > How do *YOU* know she’s going to be there??
Bcz knowin wich hot babes r gonna b ware is MY SUPERPOWER ;D
> I think they’d ALL better ‘b ware’ if *you’re* going to be around, Connor.
WOWCH haha
luv that, man
keep it up <333
With a scoff of disgust, Alex tossed his phone to the side, onto his bed and out of easy reach, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the song he’d been remixing for his ViewTube channel (which happened to be the latest single from Infinity On High). With a purposeful sort of resolution, he clamped his headphones firmly down over his ears and let himself get lost in the music.
Time always went strange, seconds slipping by unevenly, every minute irregular and differently-shaped when he got absorbed in a project like this. Hours could pass without him realizing it, and he could (and had on many occasions) lost entire days that way, so wrapped up beautiful processions of notes and richly building chords and heartbeat-pulse tempo and that he forgot to do basic things like eat, drink, or sleep. There had been more than a few times that Bill had literally shouted him out of that odd state of unbeing, a harmonic, melodic trance that consumed his entire attention so fully that he temporarily lost all sense of self and the physical world around him. But Bill had gone into work today, despite the fact that it was a Saturday, and Alex didn’t have a job tonight, so there was no reason for him to resist the siren’s call of music.
He wasn’t certain exactly what snapped him out of it this time, but he was hit by a sudden awareness that it was very dark in his room, and that fact allowed him to surface long enough to notice several other things: that his stomach was growling, his mouth was dry, and he really had to pee.
After taking care of all that, he wandered back to his room, munching on half a sandwich and debating finishing up what he’d been working on, getting some reading done for his Biology and Abnormal Psych classes, or just going to bed early-ish for once. It was only 9:30 or so, but the late hours at the radio station and extra time spent at the music store left him feeling pretty tired on the weekends, when it all tended to catch up with him. He’d just about settled on that last option when he saw the blue ‘unread message’ light blinking on his phone. Grimacing at the knowledge that it was probably just a dozen or more texts from Connor, Alex reluctantly scooped up the phone to take a look...and nearly dropped it right back onto the bed again, because while there were five new messages from Connor (as well as few from his cousin Jess and one from his mom), there were also half a dozen from Bianca. Fumbling a bit with the phone, he hastily tapped the notification, quickly scanning her texts. All of them were from about 30 minutes ago, and they read:
Hey! Just wondering if you’re coming to the party tonight C:
Connor says it’s not rly your thing but he said I should ask you anyway
(What’s up with him? lol)
V-Ball is over for now except for practices so me & my girls are gonna PARTY HARD & have some FUN tonight! \o/
Text me if you decide to come! Don’t forget, you owe me a dance & I’m ready to collect C;
The sixth and last ‘message’ was actually a picture: a selfie of Bianca winking and throwing up a v-for-victory hand sign with two of her girlfriends smiling in the background--and Connor with his arms around the pair of them, grinning so wide that it looked like the top of his head might fall right off.
Alex had never responded to a text so fast in his life.
> I’m on my way.
There were a lot of other things he wanted to add, stuff like don’t do anything stupid, or keep an eye on Connor, he might try something if you don’t watch out, but...he wasn’t sure it was really his place to say any of that. He was her friend, not her boyfriend, she was extremely smart and definitely strong enough to punch out anyone who laid a finger on her in a way she didn’t like or want, and she hadn’t gone alone. She was her own person, and it was her business, not his, if she wanted to have some fun...regardless of what that meant, at least within reason. But drugs weren’t really a concern--she’d always looked pretty skeptical and disapproving whenever that kind of thing came up in conversations--and drinking wasn’t that big of a deal when at least half of the people at the party were underage and would be indulging in alcohol anyway. And for all the time they’d spent hanging out together, she hadn’t really talked all that much about dating or sex--which was a relief, on one hand, because Alex would’ve felt extremely awkward discussing either topic, particularly with the girl who didn’t know that he was in love with her, but on the other hand...it also meant he didn’t know much about that aspect of her life. He’d simply assumed that meant that there wasn’t anything to know, but he realized now that it was actually a pretty stupid assumption to make. Everyone had some sort of opinion about those topics, and all he really knew was that she’d agreed to go on a date with anyone who defeated her at racquetball, a challenge that still had yet to be conquered by anyone. She’d talked about group dates with their brother floor and nights out with ‘the girls’, and had on a few occasions casually mentioned an ex-boyfriend back in San Fran, but that was it. Although he’d seen her be playfully flirty at times, she was never serious about it, and from everything he knew about her after half a year of friendship, she definitely didn’t seem like the ‘random hookups’ type.
...Then again, she also hadn’t seemed like the ‘party girl’ type, but here they were.
It’s not like me being there will change anything, if a hookup is what she’s looking for...but still... Still, the idea of Bianca being at that kind of party with Connor anywhere nearby bothered him, and the fact was, Connor was far from the worst guy out there.
He’d been lounging around in a ratty old band t-shirt and his boxers all day, so even though he was in a hurry, Alex still took the time to change into something suitably edgy, though he also made sure to wear something that he didn’t mind seeing ruined, just in case this party was even worse than the first (and last) one he’d been at. He went a bit lighter on the jewelry than usual, settling for a leather bracelet on one wrist, the eyebrow ring, and a single pair of simple silver stud earrings, and he was in enough of a rush that he left off the eye-makeup completely. After snagging a pair of inexpensive on-the-ear headphones from his collection, he called it good, grabbed his leather bomber jacket, and headed out.
Thankfully the subway was still running, so getting to Carrington wasn’t any trouble, though Alex did grumble to himself under his breath about having to take the very same trip that he took most weekdays on a weekend when he shouldn’t have had to go that way. At least the headphones and his outfit ensured that no one tried to talk to him, and since he chose to stand and hang onto one of the bars in the middle of the train, no one could attempt to sit next to him either. He kept an eye on his phone screen the entire time, watching for a reply from Bianca--not that he really expected one, all things considered, but, well. He could hope.
His hopes remained unanswered, however, until he arrived at the party. It was late March, so it was still pretty chilly in the evenings, but for once Alex hardly felt the cold, hurrying along the sidewalk towards the house with the telltale multiple-subwoofer bass-beat pulsing from it, texting as he walked.
> I’m here.
He sent that single message to Bianca, paused in the middle of shoving his phone back into his jacket-pocket, and texted the same thing to Connor. The handsome senior was overly pushy and easily one of the most irritating people that Alex knew, but he was also the only person in existence aside from Alex himself (and his stepfather Joe, though Alex had only unwittingly told him) who knew how the blue-haired student really felt about Bianca. If she had already decided to withdraw to one of the upstairs rooms with someone for a hookup, at least Connor would let him know right away instead of making him wander around the whole place looking for her like an idiot-
His phone buzzed, and first he nearly dropped it while taking it back out of his pocket, then he almost tripped up the stairs leading into the house as he hurried to see who’d sent the message. Half a dozen muscles in his shoulders and back relaxed a fair amount when he saw that it was Bianca, though her message simply said:
About time! Come dance!
It wasn’t hard to find the ‘dance floor,’ such as it was--it was immediately visible on stepping inside the house, and while the layout of this place was different from the last one, there were enough similarities that stepping through that door almost felt like the worst sort of deja vu. The heat hit him hard, then the smell--sweat, alcohol, too many perfumes and aftershaves, with a choking undercurrent of cigarettes and weed--but Alex blinked away the stinging feeling in his eyes and moved forward, a man on a mission. He balked in the arch leading into the living room, however, unwilling to squeeze himself into that too-close press of bodies without good reason. Instead, he moved back to stand on the lowest step of the stairway right behind him, giving himself a much-needed extra half-foot of height, then scanned the crowd for Bianca and her friends.
He’d gone up to the second stair and was considering taking a third when he finally found her. A flash of bright blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail caught his eye despite the dim light of the room, and the longer Alex continued to peer in that direction, the easier it seemed to see through the weaving, swaying bunch of college students and pick out Bianca and her two friends. All three girls were grinning, laughing and moving in time with the music, all dressed in much more casual clothing than what he’d seen them wear to the club, ripped jeans and flat shoes and cute halter-tops. As the bass-heavy music changed from one techno/dubstep-garbage song to another, one of Bianca’s friends let out a whoop of recognition, handed off her drink to her friend, then threw herself into matching the beat while Bianca and Designated Drink-Holder Friend (was her name Sam?) burst out in inaudible giggles, then did their best to match their friend’s extreme moves.
Despite the heat and the smell and the tooth-grating music surrounding her, Bianca was still nothing short of lovely, a vision of youthful abandon, blonde hair flying, sea-green eyes shining with happy laughter. Honestly, she looked like she was having the time of her life, and text messages or not, Alex wasn’t certain that he wanted to interrupt, or risk somehow dragging down her buoyant mood. He leaned hard on the railing, considering...and then his own impatience with himself took over.
...Okay, what the hell, Faulkner? She all but asked for you to be here, and you came all this way and now you’re not even going to go talk to her? The person you consider your best friend? GOD, Bill is wrong about most things, but it looks like he’s right about this, at least--you need to stop being such a pansy and learn to be more proactive about things instead of just running away all the time.
Grimacing to himself, Alex gave a half-hearted little wave the next time she looked up, trying to catch Bianca’s attention--and was surprised when it worked almost immediately.
“Hey!” Bianca half-shouted when her eyes met his, her alcohol-flushed face lighting up in a way that made his heart give a painful little squeeze. She immediately left her girlfriends behind and started pushing her way off the dance floor, heading towards him, and Alex noted one of the ubiquitous red plastic cups in her hand as well, and the mostly-careful way she carried it through the living maze of people. Even once she reached him, she still had to half-yell to be heard over the relentless thump of the bass. “Alex! Glad you’re finally here! Isn’t this music just awful?”
“Awful or not, it sure doesn’t look like that’s stopping you from dancing.”
Bianca gave a bubbling, atypically high-pitched and girly laugh, and reached out to give his shoulder a playful shove. “You’ve always got an answer for everything, don’t you?” she giggled, both her slightly-thick voice and vaguely-glazed eyes glowing with the warmth of admiration and affection.
“Depends on what the question is. And who’s asking,” Alex shot back with a smirk, even as he sternly reminded himself not to read into her words or expression, that this was just how she was, how she doubtless treated all of her close friends--apparently even more so than usual when alcohol was involved. Case in point-
“You look nice tonight,” Bianca said, taking her time running a (blush-inducingly intense) critical eye up and down his body before giving a firm, conclusive nod.
“I look the same as I always do. But thanks.”
“Mm-mn,” Bianca shook her head, humidity-wavy blonde hair tossing with the force of the movement, and Alex’s pierced eyebrow went up. “You usually wear at least a li’l bit of eye make-up, but you’re not tonight.”
The blue-haired student blinked rapidly, his expression quickly sliding into startlement. “...Really. Is it that noticeable?”
“Eh, prob’ly only to people who’re payin’ really close attention to you, like me.”
“Heh. Not a fan of the ‘guyliner,’ huh?”
“No, it’s not that! You look good that way, too--really good, actually. I mean, you’re already kinda unfairly pretty, ‘n’ so it definitely suits you. This is just, when you’re like this, it’s just...” She trailed off, visibly struggling to push through the dampening, dulling effect of the alcohol (how many drinks had she had?) and not managing to find much mental traction.
“More natural?” Alex offered, taking pity on her honest endeavor, despite the fact that he was rather enjoying watching her fight to come up with a fitting description for him and his current state of attire.
“Yeah!” Bianca tried to clap her hands, found she couldn’t thanks to the cup she’d forgotten she was holding, then settled for pointing at him--and Alex took the chance to relish the fact that he was actually a good six inches taller than she was when he stood on the second stair and she stood on the lowest. “That’s ‘zactly it! More natural, an’ like, relaxed, so there’s less of a barrier ‘r whatever between you an’ the rest of the world an’ the people who wanna be closer to you.”
Alex swallowed hard around the hot, burning words he could feel filling his mouth, pressing hard against the backs of his teeth--you’re already pretty close to me, are you saying that you want to be even closer?--but instead of saying them, he hedged a wry half-smile at the pretty blonde, who was by now idly swaying back and forth to the music again. “I doubt there’s all that many people who want to get closer to someone like me. And I don’t want a ton of people trying to get too familiar with me anyway.”
To his surprise, Bianca just laughed again and reached out to (rather clumsily) pat one of his forearms. “You’re more popular than you think with my group a’ friends--‘specially now that they can hear you on the radio mos’ every night.” She didn’t seem to feel the need to move her hand away from him (not that she ever seemed to feel the need to pull away from casual contact with him, even when she was completely sober), or more likely she’d just forgotten that she’d put it there in the first place, though she continued to idly stroke and pat his arm.
Alex gave an awkward, one-shouldered shrug, careful not to break that precious point of connection. “They all seem nice enough, I guess, but...I’m not really interested in having a lot of friends.” There was an abrupt lull in the music, and Alex took full advantage of the almost-quiet moment. Mustering his courage (don’t be such a pansy!), he reached over to rest his free hand on top of hers, giving it a pointed but gentle squeeze as he looked her straight in the eye, then leaned in a fraction closer to say with a soft yet intense sort of earnestness, “The one I already have is enough for me.”
Bianca looked back at him with a touch of wonder on her face, and for a long, horrible, excruciating moment, Alex thought that he’d finally given himself away.
He knew that he sometimes let himself look at her just a half-second too long, with too much heat or wistfulness; that when they touched, even incidentally, there was always a meaningful pause and tissue-paper-thin reluctance to move away, a telltale tenderness in his grazing fingertips. Connor had worked it out months ago, had seen right through him in one unguarded instant, so even in her present state of tipsiness, Alex wouldn’t’ve been surprised if Bianca had at long last put together all the pieces that he’d taken such care to conceal or scatter to the winds over the past few months. She was nothing short of brilliant, after all, and her insight was sometimes uncanny, at times almost uncomfortably so, and as the silence between them stretched to span from one second to two, then three, Alex started to panic internally.
What if she did figure it out--what if she won’t want anything more to do with me now, or ever again--what if she thinks it’s all some stupid joke and laughs and shoots me down right here-
But instead of doing any of that, instead of pulling away or looking surprised or giving any sort of indication that she’d realized how he truly felt, Bianca’s default cheery smile just softened in a way he was already familiar with; and, after setting her drink down on the nearby hallway table, her right hand joined her left, encircling the bend of his elbow and settling there, fingers laced together loosely as she gazed up at him, sea-green eyes gleaming and vibrant, pupils blown wide in the dim light.
“Dance with me,” she murmured, tugging on his arm with all the steady inexorableness of the moon’s pull on the sea, and for a heartstopping moment the tide washed over him, and Alex couldn’t breathe.
“...I...” he managed at last, just as the terrible dubstep beat started up again and the blonde volleyball star drew him down off the bottommost stair.
“You owe me,” she leaned in to remind him in a now-necessary half-shout, her expression not quite a winsome pout, and Alex shook his head, drawing in a steadying breath, pulling on his usual matter-of-fact mien as he half-shouted back.
“Right, I do. But this music is hardly worth dancing to, so let me take a look at that first, okay?”
It felt like prying roots out of dry soil, like painfully, painstakingly peeling off a layer of his own skin, pulling his arm out of her grasp, and he hated himself for it even as he did it; but if he was going to dance with Bianca, he was damned if the first time would be to garbage like this.
There was no real DJ station, of course, just someone’s phone plugged into some crazy-looking spliced-together speaker apparatus, though there was a laptop sitting nearby that looked like it had been roughly displaced in favor of that phone. No one was really keeping an eye on either device, so it was simplicity itself to pick up the laptop, plug in his cheap earbuds, and bring up a few online DJ sites that he sometimes used in a pinch. It wouldn’t be as good as his normal work, not even close to real club quality, but...anything was better than this, which sounded like bad Avicii remixes with all the most annoying background sounds continuously looped and the remixer’s heavy-handed addition of way too much wobble bass. When it really came down to it, Shotify was a poor substitute for an actual DJ, and Alex intended to prove that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
As the dubstep mess faded out, Alex quickly swapped the laptop back in, setting the phone aside (its battery was in the red anyway--whoever had left things set up like this hadn’t had the foresight or the necessary mental facilities present to think of plugging it in) and immediately started pumping out the best EDM mix he could manage with his limited resources.
Despite said limited resources, the atmosphere of the place, and the heat, as the minutes slid by Alex slowly realized that he was actually enjoying himself a little. The crowd was responsive to his mixing, and more than a few people had come to poke their heads in through various doorways (or windows, in one case) and most had subsequently shoved their way onto the makeshift dance floor. Before long he found himself nearly desperate for something to drink--anything would do at that point--and as he glanced around at all the red cups in sight, he decided he might as well go for it and get some kind of alcohol. He waited until the two songs he was currently mixing were synced up just right, then slipped around the side of the room and ducked through a nearby doorway towards what he (correctly) guessed was the kitchen; avoiding the red cups full of who-knew-what sitting invitingly on a card table, Alex secured an unopened can of some kind of beer he’d never heard of before, then hurried back to the laptop, feeling unexpectedly pleased to find it undisturbed.
The beer wasn’t so great. At least it smelled better than the kind Bill drank, but there wasn’t much else to recommend it, aside from being wet and cool, two things that the heat of the house had left him thirsty for. He was still thirsty after he’d finished it (probably far more quickly than he should’ve, especially considering how little he’d eaten that day), but he resisted the urge to get another. He didn’t like to be out of control, and he didn’t really know his limits as far as alcohol was involved, and if he wanted to stay on his feet and be able to be there if, for some reason, Bianca needed him...well, one drink was a safe limit. It was also enough to take the edge off and make things a little rose-colored. He wasn’t sure how much time passed--between the unfamiliar sensation of having any measure of alcohol in his system and the well-known feeling of losing himself in the music, time became liquid and uneven--but all of a sudden Bianca was there again at his side, bumping her shoulder with his not quite intentionally as she took another drink from a (hopefully) new red cup.
“C’mon, Alex! You’re not s’pposed t’be working tonight!” After downing the last of her drink, she gave a sudden laugh, as if she’d just remembered something funny, then reached out to pull off one of his headphones, leaning in a little closer to give a conspiratory shout next to his ear: “Y’know what? Connor said that you wouldn’t come here ‘nless I asked ya to, an’ that if I did ask, you’d definitely show up as quick as possible.”
Alex felt his face and neck reddening, and struggled to keep his composure (a more difficult task than usual), thankful for both the dim lighting and Bianca’s intoxicated state. “Of course I’d come if you asked. You’re important to me, and if you want me here...or anywhere, really...then even if it’s not my scene, I’ll show up. No matter what.”
The blonde gave a mostly-playful snort of amusement and made a show of rolling her eyes. “I gotta call bullshit on that one.”
“What?” Alex frowned, absently reaching for his beer and getting it halfway to his mouth before remembering the can was already empty. “What do you mean? I’m here, aren’t I-” He cut himself off as he realized what she meant, what she’d been asking him for all night, and he gave an inward sigh as he took off the other headphone, leaving them behind. Well, so much for dignity, he thought, as he held out a hand and made a halfway-successful attempt to iron a sardonic smirk out into a real smile, saying in a voice that was only a little mocking, “Miss Jackson. May I have this dance?”
Bianca’s smile lit up her face, the expression so dazzlingly bright that he would’ve sworn that he could feel the heat of it on his skin, like his own personal ray of sunshine. Reaching out, she placed her hand in his--“It’s about time, Faulkner!”--but instead of letting him lead her onto the floor, she grasped hold of his hand and pulled him along after her, diving back into the gyrating sea of humanity overflowing the room.
It wasn’t that Alex didn’t know what to do next--he’d spent enough time DJing at clubs and parties to know how people danced together to music like this. The issue was (his questionable talent at dancing aside), there were several things that ‘dancing together’ could mean, and the spectrum was a wide one, and while he figured that Bianca simply wanted him dancing next to her, like he was just another one of her girlfriends, that wasn’t the only possible interpretation. I’ll let her take the lead, he decided as Bianca found an empty enough space, though he couldn’t help tensing up as she turned towards him with a grin.
He’d been right, as it turned out: Bianca let go of his hand and didn’t move in close, content to simply move to the music with Alex close by. Why was this such a big deal to her? he wondered as she put her hands up and spun in a little circle, seeming to be all but ignoring him now. We’re not dancing together, not really, she isn’t even looking over at me-
And that was when Bianca finished her spin, caught his eye, and grinned as she stepped in to bump her side against his. It basically amounted to a hip-check, albeit less forceful, and she slid away again only to step back in a few seconds later and do the same thing. The first time it caught Alex off-guard, so much so that it had nearly upset his balance and sent him staggering into a couple beside them that was very much dancing together; the second time, he rolled his eyes but laughed a little, and when she did it a third time, he finally took the hint and mimicked her movement, adding it in to the other motions and basic dance steps he was using--not that there was room to do much but step back and forth and move his arms a little and sway. That was apparently enough for Bianca, and after a song or two, Alex had let himself get lost in the music again, this time much more physically than usual, which was something of an interesting feeling.
He wasn’t certain if they’d danced beside each other for two songs or ten, when at the end of one piece of pounding electronic music...something decidedly slower and softer and 100% definitely not dance club music started to play, an intimate, sensual, honey-smooth R&B vibe to it.
Breathing hard, Alex paused to watch for Bianca’s reaction to the change, determined to let her keep the lead and take his cues from her, regardless of what that meant, though he couldn’t help shooting a look back over at the laptop, wondering who would’ve changed the music like that. The tipsy blonde girl blinked, eyes widening in surprise at the abrupt change in music, and when she saw the direction of the shift in his attention, she joined Alex in looking back over at the laptop...just in time for both of them to receive a toothy grin and unspeakably droll wink from the lanky figure bent over the machine, who was none other than Connor Katou. Alex scowled, grey eyes narrowing, and he swore under his breath as he took a purposeful step towards his supposed friend--but Bianca stopped him with a clear, light-hearted laugh and a hand catching at the crook of his elbow.
“Naaah, haha, don’ give ‘im the satisfaction,” she chuckled, and Alex went stiff with surprise but didn’t resist as his clearly pretty-well-sloshed best friend pulled him back towards her. “An’ anyway,” she said as she angled an unfocused smile over at Alex and draped her arms around his shoulders loosely, “ ‘M not done dancin’ with you, an’ I had first dibs.”
As he let his hands come to rest carefully (respectfully) on the curve of her waist, Alex swallowed hard and fought to ease the rising color staining his cheeks and neck, despite knowing full well that her actions had been done in a thoroughly friendly, not at all intentionally flirty manner; despite there still being nearly enough space between their bodies for another person to stand between them; despite the faint scent of alcohol on her breath that informed him of the real reason she was doing any of this, behaving like this.
Despite the way that she stumbled when someone bumped into her, bringing their bodies a lot closer, a swift jolt of startled impact as her chest met and pressed close against his; despite the way she didn’t pull back, instead letting herself melt against him, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
Alex’s hands had shifted somewhat out of necessity, and he hesitated for a moment before letting himself slip his arms around her, enfolding her ribs in a relaxed, uncertain circle, supporting her but ready to let go in an instant, not keeping her trapped against him or attempting to (impossibly) pull her any closer.
For a long time, they just swayed back and forth in silence, and for Alex, something happened that had never really happened before: the music actually faded out, faded away in the face of the steady hammering of his heart in his ears, that pounding pulse and his own breathing and the soft, perfect warmth of Bianca’s body the only things that existed for him in that moment.
He felt Bianca shift a little, resting her other cheek on his shoulder as she turned her head towards him, her hot breath on his neck making him tingle not quite unpleasantly in all sorts of interesting places. “ ‘M really tired all of a sudden...’n’ it’s too hot in here,” she mumbled into his shirt, and Alex was suddenly aware that she did feel almost feverishly hot against him, though he’d written that off as his own reaction to her proximity, not her body temperature. His concern magnified when she gave an airy little giggle, and clutched at him tighter. “Ooh, the room’s kinda spinning...maybe we should get off the ride for now, huh?”
“Maybe you should sit down and drink some water,” Alex answered in a matter-of-fact tone, making an attempt at leaning away, trying to get a look at her face. Bianca just giggled and burrowed into the curve of his neck in response, making Alex grit his teeth and curse inwardly at the feel of her lips unthinkingly, unintentionally brushing against that thin, sensitive skin, right over his collarbone.
Okay, no, that’s enough of this shit.
Tightly as she was grasping his shoulders, it was more than a little difficult to maneuver them both off the dance floor, and when she still didn’t let go of him, he gave a low, aggravated huff and poked her hard in the side, then took immediate advantage of the way she jumped (and let out a very un-Bianca-like squeal of startled laughter) to pull free of her. As she stood there, still giggling and now visibly weaving in place, Alex reached out and took hold of one of her arms, leading her towards the kitchen first, where he dumped out a red cup, rinsed it out in the sink three times, then filled it with lukewarm tap water. After downing some of it himself, he forced Bianca to drink the rest, then filled it again halfway, took her arm again, and pulled her after him, in search of a couch or chair or something that wasn’t completely disgusting-looking. Before long, he found himself sitting on a couch on the mostly-deserted, dimly-lit back porch, with Bianca draped across his lap in an easy, boneless sprawl.
As he looked down at her, bemused at finding himself in this kind of position, she gave a disoriented blink and then smiled up at him. “ ‘M glad you came, Alex,” she murmured, lifting a hand towards his face to trace an absent, uncoordinated fingertip along his jaw and cheek; Alex tilted his head away before her finger trailed over his mouth, and she gave another slow, unfocused blink as she let her hand fall back onto her chest, seemingly unaware of the fact that she’d touched him at all. “Dancin’ with you was lotsa fun.”
“I’m glad I came, too,” Alex sighed grudgingly, though it was only half true. He definitely could’ve done without having her act like this, throwing herself at him without actually meaning anything by it, without actually meaning to...but if he hadn’t been here to be with her like this, then someone else would’ve been instead, and there was no telling what could’ve happened. That said, if it had been someone else, someone Bianca didn’t spend a lot of her time with, someone Bianca didn’t know and trust, then her friends likely would’ve stepped in--at least, Alex hoped they would’ve. He hadn’t seen either of them for a good half-hour, so there was no guarantee that they would’ve been any more present in that situation than they were now.
Then again, if you hadn’t come, she might not have had as much to drink. She’d already been tipsy when he’d first showed up, but she’d gotten truly wasted between the time she found him on the stairs and the time she’d finally pulled him out onto the dance floor. Maybe if you hadn’t kept her waiting so long-
Alex’s attention was pulled back to the present as Bianca gave a quiet sigh and let her eyes drift closed, expression relaxed and content, her mouth curved in a faint smile...and the blue-haired student found himself staring down at those perfectly pink lips. The temptation was there again, just like it had been in the library months ago, curiosity and futile desire urging him to lean in and gently press his lips against hers when she wouldn’t know and wouldn’t remember, a kiss with as close to zero risk as possible, but...once again, he couldn’t find it in himself to go through with it.
C’mon, it’s just a kiss! It’s not like anyone’s getting hurt here! He could practically hear Connor’s voice whispering in his ear, and shook his head hard, leaning back out of reflex until the back of his head made contact with the wall behind the couch, wildly overcompensating for the few centimeters he’d unconsciously leaned in. Maybe that was true, maybe it wasn’t a big deal, maybe no one was ‘getting hurt’...but it still didn’t feel right. It felt wrong, like a betrayal of her trust.
If it’s ‘not a big deal,’ then why don’t you try to kiss her when she’s actually conscious? That thought pretty well crystalized things for him: it was a big enough deal that he wouldn’t do it when she was awake, so he sure as hell wasn’t gonna do it when she was asleep, and couldn’t protest, move away, or refuse.
I’d better get her back to her dorm, though, he decided--one could only withstand so much temptation, after all, especially with the would-be morality-blurring traces of alcohol in his own system, and he certainly couldn’t leave her here at the party in this state.
It wasn’t hard to find her phone, so Alex sent a pair of texts to Bianca’s friends, a simple hey, this is Alex, Bianca is totally wasted, so I’m taking her back to her dorm room, didn’t want you to worry message. He considered sending a similar text to Connor from his own phone, but discarded the idea almost immediately: he didn’t feel like dealing with the slew of inappropriate, suggestive messages that he was certain would follow, so he didn’t even bother digging his own phone out of his pocket.
It was something of a struggle to get the both of them back on their feet--Bianca only had an inch or so on him, but her build was athletic, which meant solid muscle, which meant heavy. Not for the first time, Alex wished that he was taller and stronger, built more like his jerkass football-playing cousins instead of the small, slight frame of a distance runner. The idea of being able to scoop her up in his arms and effortlessly carry her back to her dorm like a princess was an impossible, not to mention super cheesy dream, so Alex had to make do with what he could manage: draping one of her arms across his shoulder and wrapping one of his arms around her waist, supporting her as best he could as they stumbled halfway across campus. Bianca giggled and sang little snatches of songs the whole way, and Alex learned all over again that, incredibly gifted as his best friend was in many areas, singing was not one of them. It was a long, cold trip: he hadn’t known which jacket in the pile of coats was Bianca’s, and she was in no state to find it herself, so he’d retrieved his own jacket from behind a couch (a trick Connor had showed him before) and settled it over Bianca’s shoulders.
It was far from his first time visiting her dorm room, so even with nothing but the bluish wash of the safety light outside pouring in through the half-opened blinds, Alex didn’t have any trouble navigating them over to her bed. Supporting her by now mostly dead weight while pulling back the comforter was another balancing act, much like trying to find her keys had been a few minutes ago, and no matter how he looked at it, his tired, just-slightly-alcohol-buzzed mind couldn’t figure out a good way to lower her onto the bed; in the end, he’d turned them around and sat them both down on the edge of the mattress before slipping out from under her arm and letting her slump sideways into her pillow. After tugging her shoes off and setting them neatly at the foot of her bed, he retrieved his jacket, then reached around to pull the comforter up over her...and paused, staring down at her again.
She looked so beautiful, pale blonde hair fanning out around her head like flaxen rays of sunshine, that Alex found that he couldn’t resist the urge to sink back down on the edge of the bed and brush an errant strand off her face, letting the backs of his fingers caress her cheek ever so gently...until he realized exactly what he was doing, and snatched his hand away as if he’d been burned.
Okay, time to go, he told himself, swallowing down a minor wave of guilt over that temporary lapse, that slight infringement on the boundaries of their friendship. However inconsequential and innocent it had been, that lingering touch still felt like a betrayal of her trust in him, which left a bad taste in his mouth. He’d absolutely meant what he’d said to Connor about only wanting to be Bianca’s friend, and yet here he was pulling this kind of shit. Yeah, really nice job there, Faulkner. Two-faced much?
With a low sigh, he shifted his weight, wearily pushing himself up off the bed-
-But before he got halfway there, Bianca’s hand darted out, caught hold of his arm, and pulled.
Unbalanced, Alex sucked in a surprised yelp as his shoulder hit the bed, but--in a very sitcom or cartoonish turn of events--Bianca didn’t wake up or let go. She just kept pulling, until somehow, he found himself lying on Bianca’s bed, staring at the far wall of her room in something of a daze. For a long moment, Alex just lay there and tried to process what had happened--how it had happened, why he was suddenly, inexplicably, unexpectedly (but thankfully) the little spoon here--but it was like trying to read redacted files: important pieces were missing and none of it made any real, logical sense no matter which way he tried to look at it.
“ ‘S cold,” Bianca mumbled into his shoulder blade, then proceeded to pull him in even closer, burrowing her face against him and snuggling in for a nice cuddle, as if he was her well-loved plush dolphin instead of her flesh-and-blood (and very male, however ‘cute’ his appearance) friend.
After the shock wore off, Alex took stock of his options. Of course, the first thing he tried was to simply pull away and get up, but Bianca wouldn’t have any of it: her grip on him only tightened when he tried to move, and it was made painfully, shamefully clear to Alex exactly how much stronger than him she was (spoilers: a lot). Maybe he could wake her up enough to get free, that was his next thought, but considering how out of it she’d been on their walk to her dorm, he really doubted it. There was also the fact that, inebriated and only semi-conscious as she’d been, he probably didn’t really want to wake her up; she needed all the rest she could get.
In any case, he was pretty exhausted himself, and the lingering traces of alcohol in his system only magnified that swiftly increasing feeling of lethargy, despite the juddering rattle of nervous energy that his current position and location sent shivering through his entire body, leaving him feeling...hell, honestly kind of aroused. But who could blame him? The girl he had complicated feelings for had forcefully pulled him into her bed and was pressing herself close against his back. One of her arms had wrapped around his chest, she’d tangled her legs with his, and her mouth was soft and her breath warm on the nape of his neck as she rested her cheek against his upper back...and they were completely alone.
Alex gulped down a feeling of quivering anxiety, drawing in a slow, shuddering breath as he tried to put aside how hypersensitive he felt to everything in that moment, how nice it felt to be held close by the person he was in love with, and how strangely intimate it felt to have her legs tangled with his, both of her thighs wrapped around one of his own.
...I’m too tired for this, he finally decided, heaving a long, low sigh through his nose and letting his heavy-lidded eyes drift closed. Fine. I give up. To hell with being worried about ‘doing the right thing’--if anyone was being taken advantage of here, Alex decided, it was himself. He’d been dragged to that party, then onto the dance floor, and now into bed, and he was done with thinking and overthinking every angle and aspect, just plain tired of all of it.
It was something of a struggle but eventually he managed to pull the comforter up over both of them, then resolutely closed his eyes, determined to get some sleep regardless of how unlikely it seemed, considering the way his heart was trying to beat itself out of his chest and up through his throat.
Tired as he was, he was almost convinced that there was no way he’d manage to get any rest, and soon it felt like he’d been lying there for hours...though in reality, it was less than ten minutes before Alex found the merciful escape of sleep.
The next morning, Alex woke up to the local Classic Rock station blaring out of a cute glow-in-the-dark ghost alarm clock, blinking at a wall that definitely wasn’t his own as he tried to clear away the haze of sleep enough for his brain to function properly again. Where am I? was not a thought he was unused to thinking first thing in the morning--they’d moved enough over the years that waking to unfamiliar surroundings was old hat by now--but after another few seconds had passed, he realized that these surroundings were actually very familiar.
Oh, it’s Bianca’s room. That wasn’t any cause for panic--he’d crashed on her futon several times over the past few months, just often enough for the novelty to have worn off a bit, though none of the giddy excitement at sleeping so close to her had dissipated. That’s right, he reminded himself with a yawn, I fell asleep here last night when she- That thought, and any previous calm he’d had, dissolved immediately when all of his memories of last night came crashing to the forefront of his mind--and his entire body locked up as he remembered where he was. He was immediately aware of a few things: the arm loosely draped over his side; the warm, gentle breath tickling the back of his neck; and, well...with the way her front was pressed up against his back, it was little wonder that he had a certain other concern this morning...
Maybe she just...won’t wake up until after...that...goes away, he thought to himself as he blushed furiously, though it was almost more like a prayer. Or maybe I’ll just die of embarrassment here and now, that would solve the problem, too. Or, since she’s not holding onto me so tightly any more, maybe I can just-
At that moment Bianca gave a sleepy mumble and rolled the other way, and Alex took full and immediate advantage of that, slipping out of the bed and scrambling rather comically, crablike, across the floor to sit against the opposite wall, knees drawn up in an effort to conceal his current biggest concern. Thank god I’m wearing jeans, I guess, he thought with an inward groan, though it still didn’t completely hide-
“...Alex?”
On hearing his name, his head came up with a jerk, and he pressed his legs together self-consciously as he found Bianca staring at him blearily, her now-loose hair a fuzzy halo around her sleep-flushed face. Her voice was still slightly slurred from sleep, rough and low in a way that certainly didn’t help his attempts to calm down at all.
“Alex, were you...were you in my bed just now? What the heck were y-ooow my head...” Squeezing her eyes shut, the blonde girl put her head back down on her pillow and a hand to her temple, wincing in pain.
Alex, though, wasn’t in the mood to give her anything remotely close to pity.
“You,” he half-growled, feeling something in his chest swelling with indignation as he relived the recent, still-raw memory of the previous evening and early morning, “grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me into bed with you after I took the time to haul your drunk ass home from the party last night. You were way too out of it for me to wake you up and get you to let go, and you’re so stupidly strong, I couldn’t pull free to go home myself, or even move to the futon.”
His tone was a lot sharper than usual, but he couldn’t seem to help it, or rein in the snark like he usually would around Bianca. Which was probably why he found himself giving a low snort, then saying, voice thick with dry wit:
“You’re doing this all out of order, you know.”
Still visibly groggy, Bianca made a valiant effort to raise an eyebrow at him, though it came out as more of an odd squint.
“You’re supposed to take me out for dinner first, then sleep with me,” he deadpanned, and was gratified when a sudden rush of pink stained Bianca’s cheeks. That only encouraged him to keep pushing onward with his stupid joke. “Then after that, it’s...what, cooking breakfast in just your underwear and my shirt, right? That’s how it always is on TV...which is kinda dumb, really. Why’s it have to be the girl who gets up to make the food? I usually wake up pretty early when I haven’t been working, so I’d probably be the one getting up to make breakfast. Hmm, but would I still wear your shirt? I don’t know why I would...or why I wouldn’t, I guess-”
“Oh gods, just stop talking right now please,” Bianca blurted, burying her burning, brilliantly red face in her pillow.
That reaction left Alex feeling deeply conflicted: while part of him was gratified at getting that sort of revenge and making her feeling at least some shadow of the embarrassment he’d been put through last night...at the same time, it stung a little. Was it really so awful, so unthinkable, the idea of them being together? Enough to make her look like she wanted to die, or at least sink into the ground? Of course it was, who was he kidding, because girls like her didn’t date guys like him, and if she had been interested, this would’ve been the perfect time for her to mention it. Bianca wasn’t the type to hold back or beat around the bush in...any situation, really, so there was no reason for him to think that she’d be any different, any less aggressive and go-get-’em, in matters of love and romance.
He’d already known that she didn’t feel the same way, of course...but even so, having that point underlined once again was disheartening. Still, he did have her friendship, and that was no small thing.
And since we are friends...I think I’m going to take advantage of that just a little bit today.
“You know,” he said aloud, tone grave, “At this point, I think there’s really only one thing you can do.”
Bianca peeked up from her pillow just enough to give him a wary, sidelong look. “What’s that?”
“Buy my silence with pancakes.” When Bianca’s bewildered squint only deepened, Alex rolled his eyes and heaved a theatrical little sigh as he clarified, “I’m saying that after last night, you owe me breakfast, you lush. Or—what time is it, maybe you owe me brunch instead-”
The blonde girl made a choking noise, shoulders shaking as she reburied her face in her pillow, and it took Alex a moment to realize that she was laughing.
“If all it takes to buy your silence is pancakes-”
“And bacon,” Alex added.
“Fine, and bacon.”
“And probably coffee, too.”
Bianca raised her head again to give him a flat glare. “This deal’s getting worse all the time.”
“Hmmmmm, really? I don’t think it’s unfair at all...although, with that attitude, you are making me want to add lunch into the bargain...”
“OKAY, okay! Pancakes, bacon, coffee, all that’s fine! Whatever kind of breakfast-related thing you want, you got it!”
“That’s more like it,” the blue-haired teen said with a satisfied smirk. Verbal sparring with Bianca was always enjoyable, and thankfully it had taken his mind off of his other, more awkward concerns enough that, so long as he held his jacket in front of him just right, he could get to his feet and stand there without having to be too self-conscious. “You probably want to get ready, so I’ll wait for you downstairs. But I’ll be back if you take more than half an hour, and if I find that you’ve just fallen back asleep...” Angling an arch look down at her, he let the unspoken threat linger as he headed for the door, smiling to himself on hearing Bianca’s response.
“All right, all right,” she grumbled, the pout on her face as she sat up mostly joking, though she did legitimately wince at the light. “I’m up, you win.” Pushing back the comforter, she rubbed at her face, smearing her already slightly-smeared eye make up even more, and Alex was annoyed to find himself thinking that it actually looked kind of cute.
Bianca did get in one final parting shot as he stepped through the door and started towards the communal bathroom; he was already closing the door behind him when she said in a growling half-sigh that he didn’t quite catch:
“You really are a lot like Zico...”
“Hmm?” Alex peered back inside, leaning around the doorframe, expression curious--and a little suspicious. “What was that?”
“Nothing! I gotta get ready, so get out if you want those pancakes.”
“And bacon. And coffee. And-”
“Out!”
READ MORE
"And The Rest Is (World) History." Alex, Bianca. (Persona Dreamscape) - Chapter Sixteen
[music]
> Connor. You know how much I hated it the last time you dragged me to a party. Why would you even bother asking me again?
Bcz THIS time its gonna b DIFFERENT!!!
THIS TIME ur gonna WANT me 2 completely abandon u!!
Alex scowled down at his phone, though one pierced eyebrow was raised in skeptical curiosity--not that Connor could see it.
> What’s that supposed to mean?
look man just show up! TRUST ME!!!
> Still don’t trust you. At all.
lol ur loss, bro
The blue-haired student gave a sigh that was more than half growl, caught between not wanting to deal with Connor’s crap any more than he had to and satisfying his curiosity. In the end, curiosity won out, and he shot off another message:
>...Just tell me why you *think* I’d want to be there.
u no that takes all teh fun out of it but
if it gets u 2 come (lol)
fine
Despite that seeming concession, it was a good ten minutes before Connor finally added:
Bianca is gonna b there
Alex nearly dropped his phone, and he had to backspace and retype his message several times due to a combination of typos and changing his mind about what he wanted to say before he managed to send off: > What? Why would she be there? She’s an athlete, not a party girl. That’s not her scene.
After a moment’s pause, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he slowly tapped out and sent another question: > How do *YOU* know she’s going to be there??
Bcz knowin wich hot babes r gonna b ware is MY SUPERPOWER ;D
> I think they’d ALL better ‘b ware’ if *you’re* going to be around, Connor.
WOWCH haha
luv that, man
keep it up <333
With a scoff of disgust, Alex tossed his phone to the side, onto his bed and out of easy reach, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the song he’d been remixing for his ViewTube channel (which happened to be the latest single from Infinity On High). With a purposeful sort of resolution, he clamped his headphones firmly down over his ears and let himself get lost in the music.
Time always went strange, seconds slipping by unevenly, every minute irregular and differently-shaped when he got absorbed in a project like this. Hours could pass without him realizing it, and he could (and had on many occasions) lost entire days that way, so wrapped up beautiful processions of notes and richly building chords and heartbeat-pulse tempo and that he forgot to do basic things like eat, drink, or sleep. There had been more than a few times that Bill had literally shouted him out of that odd state of unbeing, a harmonic, melodic trance that consumed his entire attention so fully that he temporarily lost all sense of self and the physical world around him. But Bill had gone into work today, despite the fact that it was a Saturday, and Alex didn’t have a job tonight, so there was no reason for him to resist the siren’s call of music.
He wasn’t certain exactly what snapped him out of it this time, but he was hit by a sudden awareness that it was very dark in his room, and that fact allowed him to surface long enough to notice several other things: that his stomach was growling, his mouth was dry, and he really had to pee.
After taking care of all that, he wandered back to his room, munching on half a sandwich and debating finishing up what he’d been working on, getting some reading done for his Biology and Abnormal Psych classes, or just going to bed early-ish for once. It was only 9:30 or so, but the late hours at the radio station and extra time spent at the music store left him feeling pretty tired on the weekends, when it all tended to catch up with him. He’d just about settled on that last option when he saw the blue ‘unread message’ light blinking on his phone. Grimacing at the knowledge that it was probably just a dozen or more texts from Connor, Alex reluctantly scooped up the phone to take a look...and nearly dropped it right back onto the bed again, because while there were five new messages from Connor (as well as few from his cousin Jess and one from his mom), there were also half a dozen from Bianca. Fumbling a bit with the phone, he hastily tapped the notification, quickly scanning her texts. All of them were from about 30 minutes ago, and they read:
Hey! Just wondering if you’re coming to the party tonight C:
Connor says it’s not rly your thing but he said I should ask you anyway
(What’s up with him? lol)
V-Ball is over for now except for practices so me & my girls are gonna PARTY HARD & have some FUN tonight! \o/
Text me if you decide to come! Don’t forget, you owe me a dance & I’m ready to collect C;
The sixth and last ‘message’ was actually a picture: a selfie of Bianca winking and throwing up a v-for-victory hand sign with two of her girlfriends smiling in the background--and Connor with his arms around the pair of them, grinning so wide that it looked like the top of his head might fall right off.
Alex had never responded to a text so fast in his life.
> I’m on my way.
There were a lot of other things he wanted to add, stuff like don’t do anything stupid, or keep an eye on Connor, he might try something if you don’t watch out, but...he wasn’t sure it was really his place to say any of that. He was her friend, not her boyfriend, she was extremely smart and definitely strong enough to punch out anyone who laid a finger on her in a way she didn’t like or want, and she hadn’t gone alone. She was her own person, and it was her business, not his, if she wanted to have some fun...regardless of what that meant, at least within reason. But drugs weren’t really a concern--she’d always looked pretty skeptical and disapproving whenever that kind of thing came up in conversations--and drinking wasn’t that big of a deal when at least half of the people at the party were underage and would be indulging in alcohol anyway. And for all the time they’d spent hanging out together, she hadn’t really talked all that much about dating or sex--which was a relief, on one hand, because Alex would’ve felt extremely awkward discussing either topic, particularly with the girl who didn’t know that he was in love with her, but on the other hand...it also meant he didn’t know much about that aspect of her life. He’d simply assumed that meant that there wasn’t anything to know, but he realized now that it was actually a pretty stupid assumption to make. Everyone had some sort of opinion about those topics, and all he really knew was that she’d agreed to go on a date with anyone who defeated her at racquetball, a challenge that still had yet to be conquered by anyone. She’d talked about group dates with their brother floor and nights out with ‘the girls’, and had on a few occasions casually mentioned an ex-boyfriend back in San Fran, but that was it. Although he’d seen her be playfully flirty at times, she was never serious about it, and from everything he knew about her after half a year of friendship, she definitely didn’t seem like the ‘random hookups’ type.
...Then again, she also hadn’t seemed like the ‘party girl’ type, but here they were.
It’s not like me being there will change anything, if a hookup is what she’s looking for...but still... Still, the idea of Bianca being at that kind of party with Connor anywhere nearby bothered him, and the fact was, Connor was far from the worst guy out there.
He’d been lounging around in a ratty old band t-shirt and his boxers all day, so even though he was in a hurry, Alex still took the time to change into something suitably edgy, though he also made sure to wear something that he didn’t mind seeing ruined, just in case this party was even worse than the first (and last) one he’d been at. He went a bit lighter on the jewelry than usual, settling for a leather bracelet on one wrist, the eyebrow ring, and a single pair of simple silver stud earrings, and he was in enough of a rush that he left off the eye-makeup completely. After snagging a pair of inexpensive on-the-ear headphones from his collection, he called it good, grabbed his leather bomber jacket, and headed out.
Thankfully the subway was still running, so getting to Carrington wasn’t any trouble, though Alex did grumble to himself under his breath about having to take the very same trip that he took most weekdays on a weekend when he shouldn’t have had to go that way. At least the headphones and his outfit ensured that no one tried to talk to him, and since he chose to stand and hang onto one of the bars in the middle of the train, no one could attempt to sit next to him either. He kept an eye on his phone screen the entire time, watching for a reply from Bianca--not that he really expected one, all things considered, but, well. He could hope.
His hopes remained unanswered, however, until he arrived at the party. It was late March, so it was still pretty chilly in the evenings, but for once Alex hardly felt the cold, hurrying along the sidewalk towards the house with the telltale multiple-subwoofer bass-beat pulsing from it, texting as he walked.
> I’m here.
He sent that single message to Bianca, paused in the middle of shoving his phone back into his jacket-pocket, and texted the same thing to Connor. The handsome senior was overly pushy and easily one of the most irritating people that Alex knew, but he was also the only person in existence aside from Alex himself (and his stepfather Joe, though Alex had only unwittingly told him) who knew how the blue-haired student really felt about Bianca. If she had already decided to withdraw to one of the upstairs rooms with someone for a hookup, at least Connor would let him know right away instead of making him wander around the whole place looking for her like an idiot-
His phone buzzed, and first he nearly dropped it while taking it back out of his pocket, then he almost tripped up the stairs leading into the house as he hurried to see who’d sent the message. Half a dozen muscles in his shoulders and back relaxed a fair amount when he saw that it was Bianca, though her message simply said:
About time! Come dance!
It wasn’t hard to find the ‘dance floor,’ such as it was--it was immediately visible on stepping inside the house, and while the layout of this place was different from the last one, there were enough similarities that stepping through that door almost felt like the worst sort of deja vu. The heat hit him hard, then the smell--sweat, alcohol, too many perfumes and aftershaves, with a choking undercurrent of cigarettes and weed--but Alex blinked away the stinging feeling in his eyes and moved forward, a man on a mission. He balked in the arch leading into the living room, however, unwilling to squeeze himself into that too-close press of bodies without good reason. Instead, he moved back to stand on the lowest step of the stairway right behind him, giving himself a much-needed extra half-foot of height, then scanned the crowd for Bianca and her friends.
He’d gone up to the second stair and was considering taking a third when he finally found her. A flash of bright blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail caught his eye despite the dim light of the room, and the longer Alex continued to peer in that direction, the easier it seemed to see through the weaving, swaying bunch of college students and pick out Bianca and her two friends. All three girls were grinning, laughing and moving in time with the music, all dressed in much more casual clothing than what he’d seen them wear to the club, ripped jeans and flat shoes and cute halter-tops. As the bass-heavy music changed from one techno/dubstep-garbage song to another, one of Bianca’s friends let out a whoop of recognition, handed off her drink to her friend, then threw herself into matching the beat while Bianca and Designated Drink-Holder Friend (was her name Sam?) burst out in inaudible giggles, then did their best to match their friend’s extreme moves.
Despite the heat and the smell and the tooth-grating music surrounding her, Bianca was still nothing short of lovely, a vision of youthful abandon, blonde hair flying, sea-green eyes shining with happy laughter. Honestly, she looked like she was having the time of her life, and text messages or not, Alex wasn’t certain that he wanted to interrupt, or risk somehow dragging down her buoyant mood. He leaned hard on the railing, considering...and then his own impatience with himself took over.
...Okay, what the hell, Faulkner? She all but asked for you to be here, and you came all this way and now you’re not even going to go talk to her? The person you consider your best friend? GOD, Bill is wrong about most things, but it looks like he’s right about this, at least--you need to stop being such a pansy and learn to be more proactive about things instead of just running away all the time.
Grimacing to himself, Alex gave a half-hearted little wave the next time she looked up, trying to catch Bianca’s attention--and was surprised when it worked almost immediately.
“Hey!” Bianca half-shouted when her eyes met his, her alcohol-flushed face lighting up in a way that made his heart give a painful little squeeze. She immediately left her girlfriends behind and started pushing her way off the dance floor, heading towards him, and Alex noted one of the ubiquitous red plastic cups in her hand as well, and the mostly-careful way she carried it through the living maze of people. Even once she reached him, she still had to half-yell to be heard over the relentless thump of the bass. “Alex! Glad you’re finally here! Isn’t this music just awful?”
“Awful or not, it sure doesn’t look like that’s stopping you from dancing.”
Bianca gave a bubbling, atypically high-pitched and girly laugh, and reached out to give his shoulder a playful shove. “You’ve always got an answer for everything, don’t you?” she giggled, both her slightly-thick voice and vaguely-glazed eyes glowing with the warmth of admiration and affection.
“Depends on what the question is. And who’s asking,” Alex shot back with a smirk, even as he sternly reminded himself not to read into her words or expression, that this was just how she was, how she doubtless treated all of her close friends--apparently even more so than usual when alcohol was involved. Case in point-
“You look nice tonight,” Bianca said, taking her time running a (blush-inducingly intense) critical eye up and down his body before giving a firm, conclusive nod.
“I look the same as I always do. But thanks.”
“Mm-mn,” Bianca shook her head, humidity-wavy blonde hair tossing with the force of the movement, and Alex’s pierced eyebrow went up. “You usually wear at least a li’l bit of eye make-up, but you’re not tonight.”
The blue-haired student blinked rapidly, his expression quickly sliding into startlement. “...Really. Is it that noticeable?”
“Eh, prob’ly only to people who’re payin’ really close attention to you, like me.”
“Heh. Not a fan of the ‘guyliner,’ huh?”
“No, it’s not that! You look good that way, too--really good, actually. I mean, you’re already kinda unfairly pretty, ‘n’ so it definitely suits you. This is just, when you’re like this, it’s just...” She trailed off, visibly struggling to push through the dampening, dulling effect of the alcohol (how many drinks had she had?) and not managing to find much mental traction.
“More natural?” Alex offered, taking pity on her honest endeavor, despite the fact that he was rather enjoying watching her fight to come up with a fitting description for him and his current state of attire.
“Yeah!” Bianca tried to clap her hands, found she couldn’t thanks to the cup she’d forgotten she was holding, then settled for pointing at him--and Alex took the chance to relish the fact that he was actually a good six inches taller than she was when he stood on the second stair and she stood on the lowest. “That’s ‘zactly it! More natural, an’ like, relaxed, so there’s less of a barrier ‘r whatever between you an’ the rest of the world an’ the people who wanna be closer to you.”
Alex swallowed hard around the hot, burning words he could feel filling his mouth, pressing hard against the backs of his teeth--you’re already pretty close to me, are you saying that you want to be even closer?--but instead of saying them, he hedged a wry half-smile at the pretty blonde, who was by now idly swaying back and forth to the music again. “I doubt there’s all that many people who want to get closer to someone like me. And I don’t want a ton of people trying to get too familiar with me anyway.”
To his surprise, Bianca just laughed again and reached out to (rather clumsily) pat one of his forearms. “You’re more popular than you think with my group a’ friends--‘specially now that they can hear you on the radio mos’ every night.” She didn’t seem to feel the need to move her hand away from him (not that she ever seemed to feel the need to pull away from casual contact with him, even when she was completely sober), or more likely she’d just forgotten that she’d put it there in the first place, though she continued to idly stroke and pat his arm.
Alex gave an awkward, one-shouldered shrug, careful not to break that precious point of connection. “They all seem nice enough, I guess, but...I’m not really interested in having a lot of friends.” There was an abrupt lull in the music, and Alex took full advantage of the almost-quiet moment. Mustering his courage (don’t be such a pansy!), he reached over to rest his free hand on top of hers, giving it a pointed but gentle squeeze as he looked her straight in the eye, then leaned in a fraction closer to say with a soft yet intense sort of earnestness, “The one I already have is enough for me.”
Bianca looked back at him with a touch of wonder on her face, and for a long, horrible, excruciating moment, Alex thought that he’d finally given himself away.
He knew that he sometimes let himself look at her just a half-second too long, with too much heat or wistfulness; that when they touched, even incidentally, there was always a meaningful pause and tissue-paper-thin reluctance to move away, a telltale tenderness in his grazing fingertips. Connor had worked it out months ago, had seen right through him in one unguarded instant, so even in her present state of tipsiness, Alex wouldn’t’ve been surprised if Bianca had at long last put together all the pieces that he’d taken such care to conceal or scatter to the winds over the past few months. She was nothing short of brilliant, after all, and her insight was sometimes uncanny, at times almost uncomfortably so, and as the silence between them stretched to span from one second to two, then three, Alex started to panic internally.
What if she did figure it out--what if she won’t want anything more to do with me now, or ever again--what if she thinks it’s all some stupid joke and laughs and shoots me down right here-
But instead of doing any of that, instead of pulling away or looking surprised or giving any sort of indication that she’d realized how he truly felt, Bianca’s default cheery smile just softened in a way he was already familiar with; and, after setting her drink down on the nearby hallway table, her right hand joined her left, encircling the bend of his elbow and settling there, fingers laced together loosely as she gazed up at him, sea-green eyes gleaming and vibrant, pupils blown wide in the dim light.
“Dance with me,” she murmured, tugging on his arm with all the steady inexorableness of the moon’s pull on the sea, and for a heartstopping moment the tide washed over him, and Alex couldn’t breathe.
“...I...” he managed at last, just as the terrible dubstep beat started up again and the blonde volleyball star drew him down off the bottommost stair.
“You owe me,” she leaned in to remind him in a now-necessary half-shout, her expression not quite a winsome pout, and Alex shook his head, drawing in a steadying breath, pulling on his usual matter-of-fact mien as he half-shouted back.
“Right, I do. But this music is hardly worth dancing to, so let me take a look at that first, okay?”
It felt like prying roots out of dry soil, like painfully, painstakingly peeling off a layer of his own skin, pulling his arm out of her grasp, and he hated himself for it even as he did it; but if he was going to dance with Bianca, he was damned if the first time would be to garbage like this.
There was no real DJ station, of course, just someone’s phone plugged into some crazy-looking spliced-together speaker apparatus, though there was a laptop sitting nearby that looked like it had been roughly displaced in favor of that phone. No one was really keeping an eye on either device, so it was simplicity itself to pick up the laptop, plug in his cheap earbuds, and bring up a few online DJ sites that he sometimes used in a pinch. It wouldn’t be as good as his normal work, not even close to real club quality, but...anything was better than this, which sounded like bad Avicii remixes with all the most annoying background sounds continuously looped and the remixer’s heavy-handed addition of way too much wobble bass. When it really came down to it, Shotify was a poor substitute for an actual DJ, and Alex intended to prove that beyond a shadow of a doubt.
As the dubstep mess faded out, Alex quickly swapped the laptop back in, setting the phone aside (its battery was in the red anyway--whoever had left things set up like this hadn’t had the foresight or the necessary mental facilities present to think of plugging it in) and immediately started pumping out the best EDM mix he could manage with his limited resources.
Despite said limited resources, the atmosphere of the place, and the heat, as the minutes slid by Alex slowly realized that he was actually enjoying himself a little. The crowd was responsive to his mixing, and more than a few people had come to poke their heads in through various doorways (or windows, in one case) and most had subsequently shoved their way onto the makeshift dance floor. Before long he found himself nearly desperate for something to drink--anything would do at that point--and as he glanced around at all the red cups in sight, he decided he might as well go for it and get some kind of alcohol. He waited until the two songs he was currently mixing were synced up just right, then slipped around the side of the room and ducked through a nearby doorway towards what he (correctly) guessed was the kitchen; avoiding the red cups full of who-knew-what sitting invitingly on a card table, Alex secured an unopened can of some kind of beer he’d never heard of before, then hurried back to the laptop, feeling unexpectedly pleased to find it undisturbed.
The beer wasn’t so great. At least it smelled better than the kind Bill drank, but there wasn’t much else to recommend it, aside from being wet and cool, two things that the heat of the house had left him thirsty for. He was still thirsty after he’d finished it (probably far more quickly than he should’ve, especially considering how little he’d eaten that day), but he resisted the urge to get another. He didn’t like to be out of control, and he didn’t really know his limits as far as alcohol was involved, and if he wanted to stay on his feet and be able to be there if, for some reason, Bianca needed him...well, one drink was a safe limit. It was also enough to take the edge off and make things a little rose-colored. He wasn’t sure how much time passed--between the unfamiliar sensation of having any measure of alcohol in his system and the well-known feeling of losing himself in the music, time became liquid and uneven--but all of a sudden Bianca was there again at his side, bumping her shoulder with his not quite intentionally as she took another drink from a (hopefully) new red cup.
“C’mon, Alex! You’re not s’pposed t’be working tonight!” After downing the last of her drink, she gave a sudden laugh, as if she’d just remembered something funny, then reached out to pull off one of his headphones, leaning in a little closer to give a conspiratory shout next to his ear: “Y’know what? Connor said that you wouldn’t come here ‘nless I asked ya to, an’ that if I did ask, you’d definitely show up as quick as possible.”
Alex felt his face and neck reddening, and struggled to keep his composure (a more difficult task than usual), thankful for both the dim lighting and Bianca’s intoxicated state. “Of course I’d come if you asked. You’re important to me, and if you want me here...or anywhere, really...then even if it’s not my scene, I’ll show up. No matter what.”
The blonde gave a mostly-playful snort of amusement and made a show of rolling her eyes. “I gotta call bullshit on that one.”
“What?” Alex frowned, absently reaching for his beer and getting it halfway to his mouth before remembering the can was already empty. “What do you mean? I’m here, aren’t I-” He cut himself off as he realized what she meant, what she’d been asking him for all night, and he gave an inward sigh as he took off the other headphone, leaving them behind. Well, so much for dignity, he thought, as he held out a hand and made a halfway-successful attempt to iron a sardonic smirk out into a real smile, saying in a voice that was only a little mocking, “Miss Jackson. May I have this dance?”
Bianca’s smile lit up her face, the expression so dazzlingly bright that he would’ve sworn that he could feel the heat of it on his skin, like his own personal ray of sunshine. Reaching out, she placed her hand in his--“It’s about time, Faulkner!”--but instead of letting him lead her onto the floor, she grasped hold of his hand and pulled him along after her, diving back into the gyrating sea of humanity overflowing the room.
It wasn’t that Alex didn’t know what to do next--he’d spent enough time DJing at clubs and parties to know how people danced together to music like this. The issue was (his questionable talent at dancing aside), there were several things that ‘dancing together’ could mean, and the spectrum was a wide one, and while he figured that Bianca simply wanted him dancing next to her, like he was just another one of her girlfriends, that wasn’t the only possible interpretation. I’ll let her take the lead, he decided as Bianca found an empty enough space, though he couldn’t help tensing up as she turned towards him with a grin.
He’d been right, as it turned out: Bianca let go of his hand and didn’t move in close, content to simply move to the music with Alex close by. Why was this such a big deal to her? he wondered as she put her hands up and spun in a little circle, seeming to be all but ignoring him now. We’re not dancing together, not really, she isn’t even looking over at me-
And that was when Bianca finished her spin, caught his eye, and grinned as she stepped in to bump her side against his. It basically amounted to a hip-check, albeit less forceful, and she slid away again only to step back in a few seconds later and do the same thing. The first time it caught Alex off-guard, so much so that it had nearly upset his balance and sent him staggering into a couple beside them that was very much dancing together; the second time, he rolled his eyes but laughed a little, and when she did it a third time, he finally took the hint and mimicked her movement, adding it in to the other motions and basic dance steps he was using--not that there was room to do much but step back and forth and move his arms a little and sway. That was apparently enough for Bianca, and after a song or two, Alex had let himself get lost in the music again, this time much more physically than usual, which was something of an interesting feeling.
He wasn’t certain if they’d danced beside each other for two songs or ten, when at the end of one piece of pounding electronic music...something decidedly slower and softer and 100% definitely not dance club music started to play, an intimate, sensual, honey-smooth R&B vibe to it.
Breathing hard, Alex paused to watch for Bianca’s reaction to the change, determined to let her keep the lead and take his cues from her, regardless of what that meant, though he couldn’t help shooting a look back over at the laptop, wondering who would’ve changed the music like that. The tipsy blonde girl blinked, eyes widening in surprise at the abrupt change in music, and when she saw the direction of the shift in his attention, she joined Alex in looking back over at the laptop...just in time for both of them to receive a toothy grin and unspeakably droll wink from the lanky figure bent over the machine, who was none other than Connor Katou. Alex scowled, grey eyes narrowing, and he swore under his breath as he took a purposeful step towards his supposed friend--but Bianca stopped him with a clear, light-hearted laugh and a hand catching at the crook of his elbow.
“Naaah, haha, don’ give ‘im the satisfaction,” she chuckled, and Alex went stiff with surprise but didn’t resist as his clearly pretty-well-sloshed best friend pulled him back towards her. “An’ anyway,” she said as she angled an unfocused smile over at Alex and draped her arms around his shoulders loosely, “ ‘M not done dancin’ with you, an’ I had first dibs.”
As he let his hands come to rest carefully (respectfully) on the curve of her waist, Alex swallowed hard and fought to ease the rising color staining his cheeks and neck, despite knowing full well that her actions had been done in a thoroughly friendly, not at all intentionally flirty manner; despite there still being nearly enough space between their bodies for another person to stand between them; despite the faint scent of alcohol on her breath that informed him of the real reason she was doing any of this, behaving like this.
Despite the way that she stumbled when someone bumped into her, bringing their bodies a lot closer, a swift jolt of startled impact as her chest met and pressed close against his; despite the way she didn’t pull back, instead letting herself melt against him, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
Alex’s hands had shifted somewhat out of necessity, and he hesitated for a moment before letting himself slip his arms around her, enfolding her ribs in a relaxed, uncertain circle, supporting her but ready to let go in an instant, not keeping her trapped against him or attempting to (impossibly) pull her any closer.
For a long time, they just swayed back and forth in silence, and for Alex, something happened that had never really happened before: the music actually faded out, faded away in the face of the steady hammering of his heart in his ears, that pounding pulse and his own breathing and the soft, perfect warmth of Bianca’s body the only things that existed for him in that moment.
He felt Bianca shift a little, resting her other cheek on his shoulder as she turned her head towards him, her hot breath on his neck making him tingle not quite unpleasantly in all sorts of interesting places. “ ‘M really tired all of a sudden...’n’ it’s too hot in here,” she mumbled into his shirt, and Alex was suddenly aware that she did feel almost feverishly hot against him, though he’d written that off as his own reaction to her proximity, not her body temperature. His concern magnified when she gave an airy little giggle, and clutched at him tighter. “Ooh, the room’s kinda spinning...maybe we should get off the ride for now, huh?”
“Maybe you should sit down and drink some water,” Alex answered in a matter-of-fact tone, making an attempt at leaning away, trying to get a look at her face. Bianca just giggled and burrowed into the curve of his neck in response, making Alex grit his teeth and curse inwardly at the feel of her lips unthinkingly, unintentionally brushing against that thin, sensitive skin, right over his collarbone.
Okay, no, that’s enough of this shit.
Tightly as she was grasping his shoulders, it was more than a little difficult to maneuver them both off the dance floor, and when she still didn’t let go of him, he gave a low, aggravated huff and poked her hard in the side, then took immediate advantage of the way she jumped (and let out a very un-Bianca-like squeal of startled laughter) to pull free of her. As she stood there, still giggling and now visibly weaving in place, Alex reached out and took hold of one of her arms, leading her towards the kitchen first, where he dumped out a red cup, rinsed it out in the sink three times, then filled it with lukewarm tap water. After downing some of it himself, he forced Bianca to drink the rest, then filled it again halfway, took her arm again, and pulled her after him, in search of a couch or chair or something that wasn’t completely disgusting-looking. Before long, he found himself sitting on a couch on the mostly-deserted, dimly-lit back porch, with Bianca draped across his lap in an easy, boneless sprawl.
As he looked down at her, bemused at finding himself in this kind of position, she gave a disoriented blink and then smiled up at him. “ ‘M glad you came, Alex,” she murmured, lifting a hand towards his face to trace an absent, uncoordinated fingertip along his jaw and cheek; Alex tilted his head away before her finger trailed over his mouth, and she gave another slow, unfocused blink as she let her hand fall back onto her chest, seemingly unaware of the fact that she’d touched him at all. “Dancin’ with you was lotsa fun.”
“I’m glad I came, too,” Alex sighed grudgingly, though it was only half true. He definitely could’ve done without having her act like this, throwing herself at him without actually meaning anything by it, without actually meaning to...but if he hadn’t been here to be with her like this, then someone else would’ve been instead, and there was no telling what could’ve happened. That said, if it had been someone else, someone Bianca didn’t spend a lot of her time with, someone Bianca didn’t know and trust, then her friends likely would’ve stepped in--at least, Alex hoped they would’ve. He hadn’t seen either of them for a good half-hour, so there was no guarantee that they would’ve been any more present in that situation than they were now.
Then again, if you hadn’t come, she might not have had as much to drink. She’d already been tipsy when he’d first showed up, but she’d gotten truly wasted between the time she found him on the stairs and the time she’d finally pulled him out onto the dance floor. Maybe if you hadn’t kept her waiting so long-
Alex’s attention was pulled back to the present as Bianca gave a quiet sigh and let her eyes drift closed, expression relaxed and content, her mouth curved in a faint smile...and the blue-haired student found himself staring down at those perfectly pink lips. The temptation was there again, just like it had been in the library months ago, curiosity and futile desire urging him to lean in and gently press his lips against hers when she wouldn’t know and wouldn’t remember, a kiss with as close to zero risk as possible, but...once again, he couldn’t find it in himself to go through with it.
C’mon, it’s just a kiss! It’s not like anyone’s getting hurt here! He could practically hear Connor’s voice whispering in his ear, and shook his head hard, leaning back out of reflex until the back of his head made contact with the wall behind the couch, wildly overcompensating for the few centimeters he’d unconsciously leaned in. Maybe that was true, maybe it wasn’t a big deal, maybe no one was ‘getting hurt’...but it still didn’t feel right. It felt wrong, like a betrayal of her trust.
If it’s ‘not a big deal,’ then why don’t you try to kiss her when she’s actually conscious? That thought pretty well crystalized things for him: it was a big enough deal that he wouldn’t do it when she was awake, so he sure as hell wasn’t gonna do it when she was asleep, and couldn’t protest, move away, or refuse.
I’d better get her back to her dorm, though, he decided--one could only withstand so much temptation, after all, especially with the would-be morality-blurring traces of alcohol in his own system, and he certainly couldn’t leave her here at the party in this state.
It wasn’t hard to find her phone, so Alex sent a pair of texts to Bianca’s friends, a simple hey, this is Alex, Bianca is totally wasted, so I’m taking her back to her dorm room, didn’t want you to worry message. He considered sending a similar text to Connor from his own phone, but discarded the idea almost immediately: he didn’t feel like dealing with the slew of inappropriate, suggestive messages that he was certain would follow, so he didn’t even bother digging his own phone out of his pocket.
It was something of a struggle to get the both of them back on their feet--Bianca only had an inch or so on him, but her build was athletic, which meant solid muscle, which meant heavy. Not for the first time, Alex wished that he was taller and stronger, built more like his jerkass football-playing cousins instead of the small, slight frame of a distance runner. The idea of being able to scoop her up in his arms and effortlessly carry her back to her dorm like a princess was an impossible, not to mention super cheesy dream, so Alex had to make do with what he could manage: draping one of her arms across his shoulder and wrapping one of his arms around her waist, supporting her as best he could as they stumbled halfway across campus. Bianca giggled and sang little snatches of songs the whole way, and Alex learned all over again that, incredibly gifted as his best friend was in many areas, singing was not one of them. It was a long, cold trip: he hadn’t known which jacket in the pile of coats was Bianca’s, and she was in no state to find it herself, so he’d retrieved his own jacket from behind a couch (a trick Connor had showed him before) and settled it over Bianca’s shoulders.
It was far from his first time visiting her dorm room, so even with nothing but the bluish wash of the safety light outside pouring in through the half-opened blinds, Alex didn’t have any trouble navigating them over to her bed. Supporting her by now mostly dead weight while pulling back the comforter was another balancing act, much like trying to find her keys had been a few minutes ago, and no matter how he looked at it, his tired, just-slightly-alcohol-buzzed mind couldn’t figure out a good way to lower her onto the bed; in the end, he’d turned them around and sat them both down on the edge of the mattress before slipping out from under her arm and letting her slump sideways into her pillow. After tugging her shoes off and setting them neatly at the foot of her bed, he retrieved his jacket, then reached around to pull the comforter up over her...and paused, staring down at her again.
She looked so beautiful, pale blonde hair fanning out around her head like flaxen rays of sunshine, that Alex found that he couldn’t resist the urge to sink back down on the edge of the bed and brush an errant strand off her face, letting the backs of his fingers caress her cheek ever so gently...until he realized exactly what he was doing, and snatched his hand away as if he’d been burned.
Okay, time to go, he told himself, swallowing down a minor wave of guilt over that temporary lapse, that slight infringement on the boundaries of their friendship. However inconsequential and innocent it had been, that lingering touch still felt like a betrayal of her trust in him, which left a bad taste in his mouth. He’d absolutely meant what he’d said to Connor about only wanting to be Bianca’s friend, and yet here he was pulling this kind of shit. Yeah, really nice job there, Faulkner. Two-faced much?
With a low sigh, he shifted his weight, wearily pushing himself up off the bed-
-But before he got halfway there, Bianca’s hand darted out, caught hold of his arm, and pulled.
Unbalanced, Alex sucked in a surprised yelp as his shoulder hit the bed, but--in a very sitcom or cartoonish turn of events--Bianca didn’t wake up or let go. She just kept pulling, until somehow, he found himself lying on Bianca’s bed, staring at the far wall of her room in something of a daze. For a long moment, Alex just lay there and tried to process what had happened--how it had happened, why he was suddenly, inexplicably, unexpectedly (but thankfully) the little spoon here--but it was like trying to read redacted files: important pieces were missing and none of it made any real, logical sense no matter which way he tried to look at it.
“ ‘S cold,” Bianca mumbled into his shoulder blade, then proceeded to pull him in even closer, burrowing her face against him and snuggling in for a nice cuddle, as if he was her well-loved plush dolphin instead of her flesh-and-blood (and very male, however ‘cute’ his appearance) friend.
After the shock wore off, Alex took stock of his options. Of course, the first thing he tried was to simply pull away and get up, but Bianca wouldn’t have any of it: her grip on him only tightened when he tried to move, and it was made painfully, shamefully clear to Alex exactly how much stronger than him she was (spoilers: a lot). Maybe he could wake her up enough to get free, that was his next thought, but considering how out of it she’d been on their walk to her dorm, he really doubted it. There was also the fact that, inebriated and only semi-conscious as she’d been, he probably didn’t really want to wake her up; she needed all the rest she could get.
In any case, he was pretty exhausted himself, and the lingering traces of alcohol in his system only magnified that swiftly increasing feeling of lethargy, despite the juddering rattle of nervous energy that his current position and location sent shivering through his entire body, leaving him feeling...hell, honestly kind of aroused. But who could blame him? The girl he had complicated feelings for had forcefully pulled him into her bed and was pressing herself close against his back. One of her arms had wrapped around his chest, she’d tangled her legs with his, and her mouth was soft and her breath warm on the nape of his neck as she rested her cheek against his upper back...and they were completely alone.
Alex gulped down a feeling of quivering anxiety, drawing in a slow, shuddering breath as he tried to put aside how hypersensitive he felt to everything in that moment, how nice it felt to be held close by the person he was in love with, and how strangely intimate it felt to have her legs tangled with his, both of her thighs wrapped around one of his own.
...I’m too tired for this, he finally decided, heaving a long, low sigh through his nose and letting his heavy-lidded eyes drift closed. Fine. I give up. To hell with being worried about ‘doing the right thing’--if anyone was being taken advantage of here, Alex decided, it was himself. He’d been dragged to that party, then onto the dance floor, and now into bed, and he was done with thinking and overthinking every angle and aspect, just plain tired of all of it.
It was something of a struggle but eventually he managed to pull the comforter up over both of them, then resolutely closed his eyes, determined to get some sleep regardless of how unlikely it seemed, considering the way his heart was trying to beat itself out of his chest and up through his throat.
Tired as he was, he was almost convinced that there was no way he’d manage to get any rest, and soon it felt like he’d been lying there for hours...though in reality, it was less than ten minutes before Alex found the merciful escape of sleep.
The next morning, Alex woke up to the local Classic Rock station blaring out of a cute glow-in-the-dark ghost alarm clock, blinking at a wall that definitely wasn’t his own as he tried to clear away the haze of sleep enough for his brain to function properly again. Where am I? was not a thought he was unused to thinking first thing in the morning--they’d moved enough over the years that waking to unfamiliar surroundings was old hat by now--but after another few seconds had passed, he realized that these surroundings were actually very familiar.
Oh, it’s Bianca’s room. That wasn’t any cause for panic--he’d crashed on her futon several times over the past few months, just often enough for the novelty to have worn off a bit, though none of the giddy excitement at sleeping so close to her had dissipated. That’s right, he reminded himself with a yawn, I fell asleep here last night when she- That thought, and any previous calm he’d had, dissolved immediately when all of his memories of last night came crashing to the forefront of his mind--and his entire body locked up as he remembered where he was. He was immediately aware of a few things: the arm loosely draped over his side; the warm, gentle breath tickling the back of his neck; and, well...with the way her front was pressed up against his back, it was little wonder that he had a certain other concern this morning...
Maybe she just...won’t wake up until after...that...goes away, he thought to himself as he blushed furiously, though it was almost more like a prayer. Or maybe I’ll just die of embarrassment here and now, that would solve the problem, too. Or, since she’s not holding onto me so tightly any more, maybe I can just-
At that moment Bianca gave a sleepy mumble and rolled the other way, and Alex took full and immediate advantage of that, slipping out of the bed and scrambling rather comically, crablike, across the floor to sit against the opposite wall, knees drawn up in an effort to conceal his current biggest concern. Thank god I’m wearing jeans, I guess, he thought with an inward groan, though it still didn’t completely hide-
“...Alex?”
On hearing his name, his head came up with a jerk, and he pressed his legs together self-consciously as he found Bianca staring at him blearily, her now-loose hair a fuzzy halo around her sleep-flushed face. Her voice was still slightly slurred from sleep, rough and low in a way that certainly didn’t help his attempts to calm down at all.
“Alex, were you...were you in my bed just now? What the heck were y-ooow my head...” Squeezing her eyes shut, the blonde girl put her head back down on her pillow and a hand to her temple, wincing in pain.
Alex, though, wasn’t in the mood to give her anything remotely close to pity.
“You,” he half-growled, feeling something in his chest swelling with indignation as he relived the recent, still-raw memory of the previous evening and early morning, “grabbed hold of my arm and pulled me into bed with you after I took the time to haul your drunk ass home from the party last night. You were way too out of it for me to wake you up and get you to let go, and you’re so stupidly strong, I couldn’t pull free to go home myself, or even move to the futon.”
His tone was a lot sharper than usual, but he couldn’t seem to help it, or rein in the snark like he usually would around Bianca. Which was probably why he found himself giving a low snort, then saying, voice thick with dry wit:
“You’re doing this all out of order, you know.”
Still visibly groggy, Bianca made a valiant effort to raise an eyebrow at him, though it came out as more of an odd squint.
“You’re supposed to take me out for dinner first, then sleep with me,” he deadpanned, and was gratified when a sudden rush of pink stained Bianca’s cheeks. That only encouraged him to keep pushing onward with his stupid joke. “Then after that, it’s...what, cooking breakfast in just your underwear and my shirt, right? That’s how it always is on TV...which is kinda dumb, really. Why’s it have to be the girl who gets up to make the food? I usually wake up pretty early when I haven’t been working, so I’d probably be the one getting up to make breakfast. Hmm, but would I still wear your shirt? I don’t know why I would...or why I wouldn’t, I guess-”
“Oh gods, just stop talking right now please,” Bianca blurted, burying her burning, brilliantly red face in her pillow.
That reaction left Alex feeling deeply conflicted: while part of him was gratified at getting that sort of revenge and making her feeling at least some shadow of the embarrassment he’d been put through last night...at the same time, it stung a little. Was it really so awful, so unthinkable, the idea of them being together? Enough to make her look like she wanted to die, or at least sink into the ground? Of course it was, who was he kidding, because girls like her didn’t date guys like him, and if she had been interested, this would’ve been the perfect time for her to mention it. Bianca wasn’t the type to hold back or beat around the bush in...any situation, really, so there was no reason for him to think that she’d be any different, any less aggressive and go-get-’em, in matters of love and romance.
He’d already known that she didn’t feel the same way, of course...but even so, having that point underlined once again was disheartening. Still, he did have her friendship, and that was no small thing.
And since we are friends...I think I’m going to take advantage of that just a little bit today.
“You know,” he said aloud, tone grave, “At this point, I think there’s really only one thing you can do.”
Bianca peeked up from her pillow just enough to give him a wary, sidelong look. “What’s that?”
“Buy my silence with pancakes.” When Bianca’s bewildered squint only deepened, Alex rolled his eyes and heaved a theatrical little sigh as he clarified, “I’m saying that after last night, you owe me breakfast, you lush. Or—what time is it, maybe you owe me brunch instead-”
The blonde girl made a choking noise, shoulders shaking as she reburied her face in her pillow, and it took Alex a moment to realize that she was laughing.
“If all it takes to buy your silence is pancakes-”
“And bacon,” Alex added.
“Fine, and bacon.”
“And probably coffee, too.”
Bianca raised her head again to give him a flat glare. “This deal’s getting worse all the time.”
“Hmmmmm, really? I don’t think it’s unfair at all...although, with that attitude, you are making me want to add lunch into the bargain...”
“OKAY, okay! Pancakes, bacon, coffee, all that’s fine! Whatever kind of breakfast-related thing you want, you got it!”
“That’s more like it,” the blue-haired teen said with a satisfied smirk. Verbal sparring with Bianca was always enjoyable, and thankfully it had taken his mind off of his other, more awkward concerns enough that, so long as he held his jacket in front of him just right, he could get to his feet and stand there without having to be too self-conscious. “You probably want to get ready, so I’ll wait for you downstairs. But I’ll be back if you take more than half an hour, and if I find that you’ve just fallen back asleep...” Angling an arch look down at her, he let the unspoken threat linger as he headed for the door, smiling to himself on hearing Bianca’s response.
“All right, all right,” she grumbled, the pout on her face as she sat up mostly joking, though she did legitimately wince at the light. “I’m up, you win.” Pushing back the comforter, she rubbed at her face, smearing her already slightly-smeared eye make up even more, and Alex was annoyed to find himself thinking that it actually looked kind of cute.
Bianca did get in one final parting shot as he stepped through the door and started towards the communal bathroom; he was already closing the door behind him when she said in a growling half-sigh that he didn’t quite catch:
“You really are a lot like Zico...”
“Hmm?” Alex peered back inside, leaning around the doorframe, expression curious--and a little suspicious. “What was that?”
“Nothing! I gotta get ready, so get out if you want those pancakes.”
“And bacon. And coffee. And-”
“Out!”
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