Wishing For More - Lord of the Flies (Jalph)

Drunken Confessions

I CAN'T EVEN, OKAY?
THIS CHAPTER.
IT'S TOO MUCH.
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Ralph had never been so well dressed. He was in a suit and tie, no jacket, to show his muscled biceps. His hair was styled into that of a windswept look, and his shoes were polished to perfection. The cold wind had long left him shivering and he was regretting forgetting to pick up his jacket, even with the decision he wouldn't wear one. He glanced at his watch. 7:36pm. The sun had long since fallen. The children had long since disappeared. The only people hanging around the park now we're the ones pissing on the walls, splashing beer down their throats, and smoking things stronger than cigarettes. Since returning from the Island, his paranoia of people had led him to participate in 3 different self defense classes, Judo, Karate, and Budo Kai, and his frequent visits to the gym were to tire his brain put so much it would have no option but to sink into sleep. This combination left him with a strong build and no fat. He was glad for his physical health now as one of the hoodie wearing drunks stared at him, trying to decide whether to come over and start a fight. One look at Ralph's stormy face told the drunk otherwise, and he ducked back into the mob of shadows. Despite the bitter cold and the swelling darkness, Ralph had said he'd wait all night, and he was true to his word. Two hours and a half in, and he started to sip at the wine he had brought for a romantic picnic. 4 hours in and he had finished a whole bottle and was on the second, his eyes beginning to turn bloodshot with the overwhelming consumption. He had never drank before. Not since... Not since-
"Ralph? Bloody hell, is that you?" That accent. That voice. That unmistakable, beautifully gentle voice. "I came here as soon as I could! You didn't let me finish - I was in a job interview at 6, and it took me this long to get through and it- are you drunk?"
"Jaack?" Ralph slurred, trying to stand up but getting tangled in the picnic blanket he had laid out, shrugging it off and scattering sandwiches and mini food everywhere. "Dooon't be angry with me Jaaaack. I staaarted without youu-" Ralph reached up and bopped the taller male on the nose, "Have I ever told youuu how cute you aree?"
"You may have mentioned it. It's why we had a big fight. Remember?"
"Fight? But wee kissed! Fighters don't kiiissss!" Jack lurched forwards as Ralph stumbled over the grass, catching him before he could ruin the suit in the mud.
"What's with the food? And the suit?"
"A daaate." The brunette blinked up at him through green eyes and Jack's outer exterior melted, despite his hearts protest.
"You set all this up for me?"
"Noo, I set it up for youu!"
"That's what I said."
"Did yoou? Ralph squinted, reaching up to touch Jack's face with a gentleness that should have been way more miscalculated for a drunk person in his state.
"Ralph. If you set all this up for me, why did you say what you did earlier?" Ralph met his gaze as if they answer were obvious.
"I was too scared to like youu~."
"Ralph?"
"You maade my heart speed up and my words disappeaaar and I was so scared."
"Ralph?"
"I'm goiiing to breaak up wiith Monica."
"Think this through when you're not drunk." Jack replied tenderly, pushing Ralph to his feet but keeping a steadying hand on his elbow. The brunette looked at Jack's hand on him and grinned as if it was the best feeling in the world.
"Doees that mean youu want to talk again?"
"Ralph," Jack sighed heavily, "I'm more afraid of you waking up and not wanting to talk to me than me deciding I don't want to give you another chance." Ralph placed a firm hand on the small of Jack's back and pulled him against him. Chest to chest. "Ralph. Seriously. You might regret this when you're not drunk." The brunette just grinned wider as if he hadn't heard the redhead's words. "Not now, Ralph." He paused, "Didn't you use to be blonde?"
"You don't like me?" A frown puckered Ralph's eyebrows, "That is okay. I un-understaaand. I wouldn't like me tooo."
"Ralph!" Jack stepped back, "Bloody hell, I like you! I just don't think we should do anything when you're as drunk as you are!"
"I ruined it?"
"Oh bloody hell Ralph. Let's get you home before you start crying." A small smile played on Jack's lips despite it all. Even though he didn't like the sight of calm, sensible Ralph drunk, it didn't hurt to see the brunette pining after him. Even if Ralph woke up and hated him again, it was enough to see Ralph frowning because he refused to kiss him! Lord, it was enough. For now. Returning a hand onto Ralph's elbow, which caused him to light up considerably, Jack swept the picnic blanket and paper plates into his hand and began to steer Ralph back towards the car. Ralph, however, seemed to have other ideas.
"Weree you my firsst kiss?" The brunette tilted his head to meet his gaze and Jack's heart sped up in response.
"That depends."
"The islaand." Jack froze. Ralph remembered that? And he chose to talk about it when he was drunk?
"You were sending me mixed signals." Jack chuckled to himself.
"Tell mee."
"Well. Let's see..."

~
FLASHBACK:

Jack Merridew, a 13 year old boy who could sing a C Sharp, had never, ever seen quite an intriguing pair of eyes. They were green, a sort of mossy green, with droplets of brown swirled through them, like someone had gotten a sheet of moss and splashed melted chocolate on to it. They held no secrets, and proclaimed no devil. They were as they are, innocent, careful and guarded. After the silence had gone from understandable to awkward, he sniffed and turned, not allowing himself another moment to inspect the rest of the boy.
"Isn't there a ship then?" His words sounded snooty, even to himself. But he had to keep up appearances. No point in losing his head status because he had seen a pair of eyes that begged to be stared into and a face that had a longing to be explored. Tugging self consciously on his black cap, Jack became aware that, despite always thinking he was okay-looking, he had nothing on the boy with the conch. "Isn't there a man here?" Ralph spoke to his back.
"No, we're having a meeting. Come and join in." That voice. The American lilt to it was enough to capture his attention and he snapped his head back round to capture the face of the speaker. He was young, probably around the same age as him, if a couple years younger, 11 or 12 he'd guess. He had the blondest hair, and cheekbones that could kill. Jack forgot completely to reply. "Are you okay?" The blonde asked, narrowing his eyebrows as he peered up at the taller one. "I'm Ralph." Jack gestured for his choir boys to make themselves at home on the scattering of logs. They did so with sighs of relief, and Simon scampered into the shade, bright eyes watching.
"There's no seats left." Jack said, twisting round to check and then shrugging.
"Oh. That's okay. You can sit on my lap." Ralph gave the shell to a fat boy sat next to him. Shrugging, barely able to conceal his delight, Jack spoke up,
"I'm bigger. How about you sit on mine?" Ralph nodded, seeing that this was logical. And he was nothing if not logical. He clambered up and sat straight back down on Jack's knees without a moment's hesitation, his body warm against Jack's. Piggy then ruined it. He went to pass the conch back, but the glistening shell slipped from his fingers. Ralph dived to the floor, preparing to catch the conch as he pulled Jack with him. Okay. Maybe Piggy didn't ruin everything. For, as Jack came to realize, he had broken Ralph's fall, as intended, and Ralph was sprawled out on top of him, their faces a breath's width away from each other. Ralph smiled in that way that only Ralph can, and made no movement to get up, as if he'd forgotten what they were doing on the floor on the first place.
"You're ginger!" Ralph suddenly exclaimed, breaking the silence and making someone of the boys giggle as Jack realized his cap had fallen off into the sand. So maybe that's why Ralph had been smiling.
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