The Stains Beneath Our Skin [mxm] ✔

33 | Sweetened Ends

He almost fell over when Jack let go. Would've, right onto that grime-slick floor if Jack hadn't grabbed him again, warm hands at his waist and a mess of heart-deep concern furrowing his familiar face.

Casper choked on the lump raising in his throat, clutched his hands to his chest.

Like that'd do shit to stop the way his breaths heaved from his lungs. Like it didn't just terrify him how much he still shook.

"Jack—"

"Hey..." Jack slipped one arm fully around Casper's waist, and with the other hand, he tugged at the edges of Casper's beanie like he straightened it up. It was warm. Too warm, and just warm enough. The heat beneath Casper's clothes suffocated him but the nighttime air bit into his bones.

In the long shadows of the alley, Jack's bleached hair was cast grey-amber, just the same as his skin. Just the same as his eyes where they brooded beneath the knot through his dark brows. "Hey, baby. Cas... You're alright, huh? Just breath for me."

Jack took a long slow breath, in and out. In. Out. Casper was so used to mimicking him, he was doing it before his head screwed on tight enough to decide.

Slowly, slowly, the asphyxiation slunk back.

And then all that was left was the way the world swum. The queasy swaying in his stomach and the way Jack held him just a little too tight.

It wasn't just the streetlamps casting the spattering of freckles that stark across his skin. His palm was damp where it brushed against Casper's jaw.

Tentatively, Jack's hand slipped under Casper's arm to splay across his back. Fuck, it was so familiar his heart cracked. And once Casper settled into his hold, still clinging to handfuls of Jack's hoodie, Jack spoke again, a fissure in his voice. "What the fuck was that, Cas? What the fuck've you got into?"

"Nothing. Just a bad night."

"Cas..."

Casper shook his head and made himself let go of Jack's hoodie. "Thank you for helping me."

It just took a little push against Jack's chest for him to let go, his hands pressing deep as they trailed over him. Casper stumbled back out of reach the moment that heat finally slipped away.

Jack really did make something beautiful like that, under the echoes of the streetlight glow. Shadows etched charcoal over his colourless features, sorrow like a thread laced through them and tugged too tight. His fingers twisted through the sides of his hair, the ragged draw off his breath sharp against the low traffic drone.

No one passed on the street outside, and for once, the city felt like their own world.

The moment broke on Jack's curse and the smear of amber tears across his cheeks. Casper blinked his own back. 'Cause he wasn't going to cry. This was fucking stupid; Jack had never made him cry before. Fucked him up, sure, but not these stupid stinging tears.

The dwelling shadows opposite twinkled with dew-soaked spiderwebs, and nestled amongst them, Cain picked beneath his blackened nails. Like it wasn't already hard enough not to cry.

Just you fucking wait, asshole.

"Cas, baby." The careful crack of Jack's voice drew Casper's eyes. He'd come a step closer, hands jammed in his jean pockets, eyes trained on his boot scuffing against the concrete. "Y'know, if—if you still need some place to stay, I been thinking and—"

"I don't anymore."

"Oh." The scuff of Jack's boot stopped, a spasm going through his features. "You, uh—you found a place then?"