touch in the dark

one

"You're late," Jaxon snapped, leaning into his window sill, joint hanging playfully out of the side of his mouth.

"I have responsibilities, Jax." Clara pushed herself up through the window, tumbling onto her friend's bed. Jaxon shut the window and leaned back onto his headboard, crossing his arms. Clara looked at him, puzzled. "What?" she asked. Jaxon smirked and lolled his head back and forth.

"Nothin'," was the nonchalant reply. Typical, but still, it sparked a heat within her that nobody else could ignite. Clara would never get used to the way Jax looked at her, she thought. She knew that this whole thing was just sex, nothing more, but it still fucked her up completely.

Their normal routine followed: hot, mind blowing sex with no kissing above the neck and no "sensual touching" (as Jax called it) unless she was told so, and no cuddling afterward.

That's the part that hurt Clara. They were just fucking, that's all, but a part of her ached for domesticity. She often thought about what it would be like to be in an actual relationship with Jaxon. She liked it.

"Clara, babe," Jaxon said, tone light, "You're still naked." Clara, snapped out of her daydreams, looked up and realized that, oh, she was still in Jax's bedroom, and Jaxon was underneath his blanket, smoking yet again.

"I'm sorry," Clara replied, quickly pulling on her underwear, not bothering to get dressed any further.

"Don't be." Clara glared at Jaxon, who had that fucking smug expression on his face. "I like a good show." Clara rolled her eyes and crawled up between Jaxon's legs, sitting crosslegged. Jax cocked an eyebrow at her.

"You're high," Clara said, frowning at her best friend's nonchalance of rotting away his braincells. Jax rolled his eyes and made a show of taking a rather large hit.

"'The fuck you gonna do about it?" he asked, the words harsh but tone teasing. Clara chuckled and, fuck, did she want to kiss Jax in that very moment.

But, instead of kissing him, Clara asked, "What time is it?" Jax clicked on his phone and Clara could truly see how beautiful he was in the harsh blue light of his lock screen.

"2:15," Jax answered. Clara sighed and reached for her shirt, only to realize that, oh, it had been used as their cum rag. Jaxon laughed as she picked up the sticky shirt in disgust, but, in return, took his own t shirt off and threw it at Clara. Clara gave Jaxon an odd look and he glanced away from her, dark brown eyes eyes focused on one of his posters. "Don't ruin it," Jax said, and Clara smiled.

Okay, so maybe their whole thing wasn't too bad.

•••

The next night, Clara did it.

She was sitting on Jaxon's lap, hands draped over his broad shoulders as he fingered her, one hand in between her thighs, the other on her clothed breast, and Clara just said it.

"I want you to kiss me."

Jaxon froze and looked up at Clara, face red.

"The fuck did you just say?"

Clara swallowed hard and repeated herself, "I want you to kiss me, Jax." Jaxon just gaped at her, hands still gripping her breast and brushing lightly against her clit.

"I'm gonna make you come on my hand and then you're gonna get the fuck out of my room," Jax said, and for some strange fucking reason, that right there made Clara climax, pathetically.

"Fuck," Clara whispered, body atop of Jaxon's, wanting to stay right there in that moment because, A) she was orgasming in the bedroom of the hottest guy she'd ever seen and B) she never wanted to leave.

Clara had just finished coming down when Jax shoved her off of his lap, back onto the bed. "Out," he scowled, reaching towards his bedside table to grab his lukewarm bottle of Sprite.

"What the fuck are you so afraid of?" Clara spat at him. "We're in high school, you asshole. Act like it for once."

Jaxon bitterly laughed in response. "It's not my fault you've had a crush on me since kindergarten," he said. Clara glanced at his erection that still tented his grey sweats.

Jax was beautiful — he always had been. Tan skin, dark brown hair paired with dark brown eyes, sharp muscles and curves. Once he'd hit sophomore year, Clara noticed, he'd bulked out more, flimsy noodle arms turning to hard biceps, bony ribs filling out and abdomen muscles making their way through. He was so out of Clara's league, she thought. Sure, she had the blonde hair, the blue eyes, the big tits, but she also had the chubby tummy, the bright red stretch marks scattered upon her thighs, arms and stomach, the insecurities that guys like Jax don't like; things guys like Jax aren't supposed to like.

They started this whole ordeal in the middle of their junior year, and now? Now it was summer, Jaxon had just turned 18 and Clara was feverishly applying to different universities throughout the state.

"You say that shit, but who's the one that gets you hard?" Clara teased, reaching out a hand to tease Jaxon's bulge. Jaxon exhaled deeply, setting his blunt down on a tin lid on the bedside table.

"Don't fuckin' play with me," he grunted through closed teeth, adjusting himself to give Clara more room.

Clara smirked. She hated Jaxon, but fuck if she didn't get satisfaction from turning him on. She leaned forward, gently kissing his abdomen, and Jaxon ran a hand into her hair, shoving her head farther down. Ghosting her lips over the outline of Jax's dick, she smiled lightly, looking up at him, before pulling away all together, grabbing her panties from the other side of the bed and slipping them on.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing?" Jaxon questioned, pulling lightly at Clara's arm.

"You won't do something as simple as kiss me," Clara stated, pulling on her shorts, "so why should I suck your cock? Isn't that more intimate than kissing?"

Jaxon exhaled. "You're lucky you're so fuckin' cute," he said, before pulling Clara's face in and pressing his lips onto hers.

There were sparks, yeah, like in the movies and shit, but the kiss was short and sweet. Jax's hands resting on Clara's cheeks, and her own finding their way into Jaxon's mess of dark curls. It was full of need and want and when Jax pulled away, a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. Clara brushed her fingers over her lips, still shocked by the fact that, holy shit, she just kissed Jaxon Davis, and flickered her eyes to the boy to the side of her.

She smiled and leaned forward, pecking a small kiss on Jax's shoulder before bending down to undo the drawstring on his sweatpants. Clara heard him sigh in relief, felt him lean back, and she couldn't help but feel her heart flutter.

God, she was fucking whipped.