Where Clover Whitens (Jalex)

Kenning

Oh, I am very weary,

Though tears no longer flow;

My eyes are tired of weeping,

My heart is sick of woe.

-Anne Brontë, "Appeal"

Jack was still reeling as Alex turned to whisper something in Beau's ear, tentatively, slowly, like he feared making a wrong move.

Beau nodded. "I'll come with you."

"Are you leaving?" Caitlin asked as Alex and Beau stood up.

Instead of answering, Alex looked to Beau, who shook his head. "No, Alex needs to use the bathroom."

"And you're going to go with him?" Rian asked, raising an eyebrow. Jack was relieved that he wasn't the only one who thought it was weird. Alex was in his mid-thirties; he didn't need a bathroom chaperone.

Beau paused, shoving a hand into one of the pockets of his jeans. "Well...," he trailed off.

"No quickies in the bathroom!" Caitlin announced, bursting into giggles. And while Jack didn't think that was the plan, it still made his stomach twist in revulsion.

Sighing, Beau sat back down. "I guess you're right. We'll just have to wait until we're home alone." He smirked and if Jack didn't know better, he'd think it was directed toward him. Jesus fucking Christ, what had Jack done to him?

As Alex excused himself, Jack tapped his foot anxiously. This might have been his only opportunity to talk to Alex without Beau. Then again, the last time he'd seen Alex in a bathroom, they'd been unable to keep their hands and mouths off of each other and then Jack had crushed Alex's heart again. He couldn't do that again, even if he'd been dreaming of kissing Alex like that ever since. This time, Beau might get suspicious and follow him, which would defeat the purpose of following Alex.

Fuck it, he thought to himself. He had to try.

Jack got to his feet wordlessly and began to head toward the restroom. Caitlin called his name, but Jack didn't turn around. He could smell the men's bathroom before he could see the door. A cacophony of cigarette smoke, piss, beer, fried food, and vomit emanated from the room, assaulting Jack's senses, but he pushed through the door. The door had been painted green probably decades ago, chipped and yellowing at the edges.

The bathroom wasn't crowded, but there were still several men around. A heavily tattooed, buff man clad in leather from his bald head to his toes brushed past Jack through the door. A couple of frat boys stood at the sink, laughing and slurring their words as they washed their hands. The two stalls were shut, and two men stood at the three urinals, one of whom was Alex. Jack pressed himself against a wall to wait for Alex, which was also painted green and fading, with shamrocks on the trimming. It was littered with graffiti; Fred loves Pam, Nazis will be punched upon arrival, and Tony eats ass, Jack read.

Thankfully, the tittering frat guys left the bathroom shortly after, which left Jack with Alex and the other man at the urinal, who exited without washing his hands. Jack scrunched his face up with disgust but stopped when Alex stepped up to the sink.

"Alex," he said softly, suddenly feeling bashful. They hadn't spoken properly since the fiasco at the Carpenter party.

Alex jumped at the sound of his name and he spun around. At first, he looked relieved, but then he looked angry. "What do you want, Jack?"

"I know you're mad at me," Jack started, biting his bottom lip anxiously. "And I get that-"

"Mad at you?" Alex asked, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, that just about sums it up." Despite his hard exterior, Jack could see Alex's eyes softening and his lower lip trembling. Maybe he was angry, but that wasn't all and Jack had to cling to that.