Saturday, September 6th, 2014

The room was dark, except for a sliver of moonlight slicing through the curtains, casting a pale stripe across Jack's bare back. The air smelled of stale alcohol and cheap cologne, mingling with the sweat on his skin. His breath felt too loud in the silence, his body too warm, too aware.

Ciarán was lying beside him, their legs tangled under the sheets. Jack wasn't sure how they had ended up like this, but he knew how it started. He had been drunk. They both were as far as he remembered. And they had kissed.

Ciarán shifted slightly, his breath warm against Jack's shoulder, 'Wanna rattle?'

The words landed like a punch to the chest. Jack's stomach dropped, a sudden cold wave crashing over him. His limbs locked, his breath hitched mid-inhale. His heart was hammering so hard he swore Ciarán could hear it.

'What?' The word came out strangled, barely audible. Jack felt the words like a slap. His entire body tensed. He pulled back instinctively, his movements too sharp, too sudden. 'What?' He repeated, his voice hoarse, rougher than he intended.

Ciarán propped himself up on one elbow, studying him. His face was barely visible in the low light, but Jack could still feel the weight of his gaze. 'If you don't want to, that's fine like,' he said softly, 'no worries.'

Jack's throat was so dry it hurt. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, too fast, too heavy. His limbs felt wrong, like they didn't belong to him. His skin was still buzzing, the ghost of Ciarán's touch lingering like static electricity. He swallowed, but his mouth felt like cotton. How did this happen? The club. The tequila. The park bench. The kiss. His stomach twisted violently.

He had kissed Ciarán.

And now he was naked in bed with another man. A man who was asking him to—No. No, no, no.

His breath came out in a shaky exhale as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his hair. 'I—fuck. I need a minute.'

He could feel Ciarán watching him, waiting, but he couldn't turn back. He couldn't look at him. Not now. This wasn't him.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The weight of the night came crashing down all at once. The dancing, the alcohol, the kiss on the park bench—his kiss. Jack had kissed him first. He had caused it.

And that was the worst part.

Because now, in the sobering stillness of the early morning, with nothing but the quiet between them, there was no excuse. No alcohol to blame. No one to pretend for. It was just him, Ciarán, and the thing he had been running from his entire life. His hands were shaking.

'Jack?' Ciarán's voice was softer now, cautious.

Jack let out a hollow laugh, though there was nothing funny about this. 'I shouldn't be here,' he muttered.

A pause. Then a confused, 'But you are.'

Jack clenched his jaw. 'This was a mistake.' The words felt wrong in his mouth, but he said them anyway. He had to.

Ciarán exhaled slowly. 'You hardly believe that, do you?'

But Jack had to believe it. He had to, because the alternative was impossible.

He turned around, finally forcing himself to meet Ciarán's eyes. There was no judgment there, no anger—just something that looked too much like understanding. Like he had seen this before.

That made Jack feel worse.

His stomach twisted, a nauseating mix of guilt, panic, and something else he couldn't name. 'Look, I just—I need to go.' He scrambled for his clothes, yanking his jeans up with shaky hands.

Ciarán sat up, gripping the sheets around his waist. 'Jack, it's grand, like. You don't have to—'

'Get away from me! I said I need to go!' Jack snapped, louder than he intended. His voice cracked, betraying him.

Ciarán flinched slightly but didn't look away. 'You don't have to be scared.'

Jack froze. His breath hitched.

That was it.

That was the word—the thing clawing at his chest, tightening like a noose.

He was scared.

But he couldn't let that show. He couldn't let this mean anything.

'I'm not scared,' he lied, his voice hollow. Ciarán gave him a look that said he didn't believe a word of it.

Jack's fingers fumbled uselessly with his jeans, struggling to pull them up properly. The fabric caught on his ankle, and he nearly tripped over himself trying to shove his foot through. His hands were shaking too much to zip his hoodie smoothly, and he cursed under his breath, voice uneven and raw.

Get out. Now.

The air in the room felt thicker, suffocating, like it was closing in around him. He couldn't be here anymore.

He moved toward the door, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. Just as he reached for the handle, Ciarán spoke again, voice quiet but firm, 'you can't run from this forever, Jack. Trust me, I tried too, like.'

Jack's fingers curled around the doorknob, his knuckles white. He almost didn't respond. Because deep down, he was afraid that Ciarán was right, but he pushed those thoughts from his head as he walked out the door of the bedroom, 'you don't know me.'

'Jack-' began Ciarán, but Jack closed the bedroom door behind him and cut him off.

He turned, took a few steps down the hallway, and then his face dropped 'Oh, fuck me.'

Jack's stomach dropped before his brain even caught up. Something about the room felt familiar.

The weird collection of mismatched couches, the cluttered shelves, the half-dead plant in the corner—

No.

No, no, no.

FUCK NO.

His breath hitched violently as it clicked into place. This was the house. The one he had viewed. The one he was moving into. And Ciarán—Ciarán was his new housemate.

He clasped his hand over his mouth, and quickly ran across the room in his bare feet, beginning to hyperventilate. Jack fumbled uselessly with the lock, his fingers slick with sweat, slipping off the metal.

Come on, come on, come on.

His hands were shaking so badly he nearly ripped the handle clean off when the door finally swung open.

He stumbled through it, barefoot on the cold pavement, heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum. He had to get the fuck away from here. It shut behind him and he paused, contemplating going back in. Although it was too late now.

'Oh God. Oh shit. Oh shit,' he said, panicked, and hurried down the street quickly.