Senior Year (Syndisparklez) -DISCONTINUED-

October: The Tension

It wasn’t surprising when had just gotten out of the shower and was aware of a car pulling up in his driveway. He knew the motor by heart and threw on his boxers and shorts and draped the towel across his shoulders. Tom. Jordan wanted to only be angry with him, but he had a hard time holding only that expression up. Tom looked wrecked and definitely had been on a losing end of a fight. He had a bad black-eye and looked miserable, but despite the bruises, his eyes brightened and grew tense at the sight of Jordan.
 
“I can explain,” Tom said quickly.
 
“I’m listening,” Jordan said curtly, but didn’t step aside to let Tom in. Tom sighed and he rubbed the back of his neck.
 
“I got drunk,” Tom started, admitting with a degree of shame.
 
“I heard,” Jordan said and gestured idly with his phone.
 
Tom scowled and held his face in his hands before looking at Jordan again. “For fuck’s sake, Jordan, can I come in?”
 
“No.”
 
“Jordan…”
 
“Tom, you cheated on me, again. I told you last time. Your drunk behavior could stop or our relationship would,” Jordan said, crossing his arms tighter across his chest and Tom leaned against the door sill.
 
“God, Jordan, I didn’t fuck her. I was playing truth or dare and it got out of hand. It’s wrong, but I didn’t fucking cheat on you,” Tom snapped.
 
“But you did,” Jordan corrected and with a sigh, he stepped out and closed the door to his house. He gestured to the chairs on the porch and they each took a seat, Tom anxiously fiddling with the loose padding on his. “Tom, you were fooling around with her.”
 
“Jordan-”
 
“Tom, this is why I can’t take our relationship further,” Jordan said softly and Tom started at him, hurt.
 
“God, Jordan, please. I’m sorry,” Tom murmured.
 
“If you are. If you were last time. You’d prove me different-”
 
“Give me a chance to-”
 
“This was your chance. You failed.”
 
“Fuck, Jordan,” Tom swore and he dropped his head to his hands again. “I just want you. I just want you to be happy with me. Please.”
 
Jordan groaned. He looked out into the driveway. The street. At the faint lights of a car. At the lights of his neighbor’s house. Then to Tom. With a frustrated sigh he stood. Tom’s eyes followed him. “Happy? Happy with me? We go on dates, but they’re never enough. We talk! We see each other! But it’s never enough for you to the point where the only thing that matters is where your dick ends--”
 
Tom stood, the chair scraping against the porch as he practically threw himself up. “Don’t go there--this has never been about sex--”
 
“That’s all that ever leaves your mouth,” Jordan snarled, jabbing his finger in Tom’s chest.
 
“That’s because that’s all you ever associate with the word gay, Jordan,” Tom snapped. “Because you’re still fucking homophobic even though you’re just as--”
 
“Tom, shut up--”
 
“What, are you scared someone might hear us? That JORDAN MARON SUCKS MY GODDAMN--”
 
Jordan slapped his hand over Tom’s mouth, and almost immediately, Tom pushed him off, glowering at him. Jordan shook his head and nearly shoved Tom back. “You’re a fucking pervert, Tom. And a drunk sorry excuse--”
 
“No, you shut up--” Tom retorted. “I went to Homecoming--with you--or I was supposed to,” Tom started and Jordan rolled his eyes. Tom took a step towards Jordan, grabbing his hand. “Don’t blow me off on this again--Jordan, you’re going to hear me out.”
 
“I told you we can’t make it public--”
 
“No, Jordan, you didn’t--what you did was invite me to Homecoming--something I wasn’t going to go too, and you made me a giddy motherfucker,” Tom started, “And then you got crowned--and never even said a word in my direction--the entire night. Before and after the crowning. Not even at the dinner. Not even a text after the whole fucking thing,” Tom yelled. “Oh, but you had time to kiss the Queen. And hang out with her the whole night--”
 
“We had three dances--” Jordan started. “It was for the Homecoming--”
 
“The kiss? The other two dances?” Tom scoffed and crossed his arms, letting Jordan’s hands fall. “You care more about looking straight then you do about me. So fuck yourself, Jordan.”
 
“You just cheated on me--you do not get the victim card,” Jordan hollered. Tom fell quiet and they stood there. Jordan tugged at his own hair, seething and he leaned against the front door to his house. After a pause, Tom unfolded his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets.
 
“I’m sorry, Jordan. It was wrong of me to get drunk, again. And kiss someone...again,” Tom said, staring at Jordan’s feet.
 
“Go home, Tom,” Jordan said.
 
“What--so that’s just it?” Tom questioned. “You’re breaking up with me?”
 
Jordan shook his head. “I didn’t say that--don’t put words in my mouth.”
 
Tom laughed. “Oh--and this isn’t it? You’re not going to ignore me for a designated amount of time until I’m ‘punished’ and then go back to kissing me in the bathroom--chickening out of any event that could ever be conceived by anyone to be  date--all because I kissed some slutty girl at a party. Get real with yourself. You’re homophobic.”
 
“Just stop, Tom,” Jordan replied. “I’m going back to bed.”
 
“No--say it. Right here and now. I’m not doing the silent treatment where you pretend you’re always in the right,” Tom plopped into the chair. “Say it.”