Entry tags:

007 works at starbucks, fiction

every home was like alcatraz
part// two.


Third semesters begins.

Bryce's old roommate transferred to Columbia law. He scans the dorm list, spots Chuck's name, wonders how long it'll take to have Chuck in his bed.

Jill calls him as he's leaving the registrar's office. Bryce hears laughter in the background. Chuck.

"My room. ASAP. Bring beverage."

He obeys. He shows up with a six-pack. Chuck's sprawled out across Jill's bed, sits up swiftly when he spots Bryce.

Chuck smiles, crooked, bashful. Bryce wants to take him right there.

"Larkin!" Jill charges at him, wraps her arms around him tightly. Squeezes. Dating Chuck or not, Bryce really likes Jill.

When she pulls away, Bryce is stunned. If anything, the summer's made her more beautiful. Shorter hair, fading tan, new glasses. She looks like a punk-rock version of Zelda.

She talks about her vacation as she pulls out gifts from her suitcase. Nothing's wrapped because she says she's awful at it. There's Stargate for Angie. The collectors edition of The Watchmen for Bryce. Quake III for Chuck.

"Oh, I fucking love you," Chuck mumbles, holds the game with two hands, delicate like China. Jill laughs, drops into his lap, kisses him.

"You fucking better." She kisses him again. Keeps kissing him. Chuck drags his hand up her back, cups the back of her head.

"We best give the lovebirds some time to… catch up." Angie tugs Bryce out of the room, shuts the door behind her.

When Angie ducks into the bathroom, Bryce comes close to putting his fist through a wall.

--

"Dave dropped out." Chuck is lying on Jill's floor. Angie's using his thigh as a pillow while she plays her GameBoy. "His dad had a stroke or something, so he's taking care of him."

"Jesus, that's awful," Jill says. Bryce's head is in her lap and she's combing his hair. Jill likes his hair a lot. She says she would trade hair in a second.

"Connor moved out, too." Bryce looks down, Chuck looks up. Their eyes meet.

"Ooh! You two have to move in together!" Jill slaps Bryce's shoulder repeatedly, enthusiastically. "Imagine how fucking awesome that would be!"

It takes two days of paperwork and oaths.

Bryce has Chuck screaming out his name on day three.

--

It takes a month of living together for Bryce to realize Jill has always been a tactical error.

She begins to sleepover every Wednesday night, cozies herself in Chuck's bed and falls asleep with his arms around her shoulders. She leaves the room smelling like pink grapefruit and cherry lipchap.

The sex feels uncomfortable afterward—their cheating apparent until the smell of Jill's perfume disappears. Bryce knows how difficult it is for Chuck. Knows that Chuck's a good guy. Knows that he doesn't want to hurt Jill.

Bryce knows that Chuck loves her—that they'll get hitched after Stanford and pop out two or three kids that Chuck'll spoil rotten. He knows that when Chuck looks back on college, Bryce will be a fond memory, a good story to tell Jill on their thirtieth anniversary.

Bryce also knows that he isn't a good guy like Chuck. Until he proposes to Jill, he's free game. Bryce is good at games. Doesn't accept second place, losing.

--

Chuck becomes an addiction Bryce can't shake.

He wakes up in Chuck's bed, with Chuck's legs hooked around his. With his fingers twisted in his hair. Bryce always wakes up first.

There's one morning where Bryce wakes to Chuck's mouth on his nipple, to Chuck's sharp teeth nipping.

"Mornin'" Chuck mutters, licks at Bryce's clavicle.

Bryce's throat clenches. Chuck looks up through the fringe of his eyelashes, smirks, dips his head, slides his body across Bryce's.

Bryce fists his headboard when Chuck's mouth opens around his cock. Bites down on his hand when Chuck nervously sucks; shakes through the entire blowjob.

--

Bryce begins to suspect Jill knows about them.

It's little clues dropped here and there. A prolonged look. An extra kiss or two. The way she'd drop by more and more unexpectedly. She brought over donuts at three a.m., fifteen minutes after Bryce'd fucked Chuck over their desk.

She walked over the spilled pens and paper, smiled as if she was oblivious to the Chuck shaped gap on the desk, to how thick the air was.

That night, while Chuck slept, Jill and Bryce stared at each other. Bryce noticed the hard lines around her eyes, the tightness in her lips.

Bryce is certain Jill noticed the same look mirrored back at her.

--

Bryce used to find himself when he was running.

He felt like his body wasn't his, was being used by a higher power. The way the wind felt ripping across his body, the way his legs felt weightless. It was like flying at low altitudes—like he'd be able to take off at any second.

It was liberating.

After track meets, he felt invincible, incredible. His body pulsed, his muscles twitching. He lost himself on the track, would only know if he won when he saw Chuck in the stands, hollering and clapping.

The way Bryce feels about Chuck is the way he feels when he's running.

He wants to tell Chuck, wants him to know. Needs him to know.

Whenever he sees Jill and Chuck kiss, that need shrivels.

--

Angie starts dating a guy named Hunter.

He's a drama major who poses nude for Angie's drawing class. He doesn't like videogames and listens to Indian techno music, but gets along with everyone.

Bryce begins to feel like a fifth wheel.

He starts to go on dates, brings them to their board game and movie nights, has them back in their dorms by one. Through trial and error, he finds one girl, Sophie, that he brings over a few times.

There's a moment when Bryce thinks, she might be the one, but then Sophie and Chuck get paired up for Pictionary. Staring at them, together, the entire night, Bryce realizes that everyone else pales in comparison.

--

Winter break. Chuck and Jill head to Vermont. Jill's mom wants to meet Chuck.

Chuck is excited, nervous. He spends hours with Jill, planning, laughing. Bryce is there to see it all.

He tries to block them out, to focus on schoolwork on readings. He reads the same page over and over until he knows the formula by heart.

On the night before their trip, Jill stops by for an hour. She reminds Chuck about the bus times and flight schedules. Chuck smiles and rubs her shoulders. Laughs away her anxiety.

When she leaves, she pauses by the door, stands on her tiptoes, wraps her arms around Chuck's shoulders and kisses him. "I love you."

Chuck breaks out into a grin, dips his head to kiss her, says, "I love you, too."

It's the first time Bryce has ever heard Chuck say it like he means it.

It stings.

--

Bryce spends the break in the school gym, works with weights and machines. There's a brunette from the cheerleading squad that flirts with him everyday. She's busty, petite. Has full lips that she covers with shimmery pink lipstick, wears short shorts and tank tops and asks him to help her stretch.

Her name is Isabella. She's Italian and wears a strong perfume that Bryce sort of likes. She tells him that his body is perfect, that he's gorgeous, that she wants him. It used to be easy for Bryce. He was once capable of responding to this sort of advance. Since Chuck, he feels clumsy, out of practice.

They fuck only once. The way her body twists leaves Bryce in awe, envious. Two days later, Bryce finds himself on the tumbling mat, has the cheerleading coach's strong hand on his lower back, has him bending in ways that leave him aching for hours.

He's a quick study, masters the basics, moves to the complicated choreography within a week. He has the lower body strength and exercises his upper.

When February rolls round, Bryce finds himself on the gymnastics team.

--

Gymnastics give Bryce an outlet. Running becomes repetitive, circles and circles that never lead anywhere. Bryce eventually ends up running into his problems over and over again.

The gymnastics coach gives him the keys to the equipment, lets him practice after hours. Bryce needs it, needs the adrenaline and the grueling pain that comes with success.

It's late at night and he's in the middle of a tumbling act when he hears clapping.

He turns, startled. Chuck's leaning against the door. He looks angry. His shoulders are tight. Bryce is about to speak when Chuck cuts him off.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"'m not avoiding you." Bryce picks his words carefully. Chuck rubs at the bridge of his nose, pushes off the door. Walks toward Bryce.

"Like hell you aren't," Chuck spits, vicious. "I've been back for almost a month and this is the longest we've spoken."

"Been busy, Bartowski. Training."

Chuck flinches. "That how we're gonna play this now? Really?"

Bryce snaps. "What the fuck do you want me to say? Huh?"

Chuck laughs. Bitter, to himself. "Christ, I don't care anymore. Just forget it."

He takes exactly one step before Bryce charges him, tackles him around his knees. Chuck's shirt is off by the time he hits the floor, his legs wrapped around Bryce's shoulders, hands squeezing at each other's faces.

The sex is raw, vengeful. Bryce claws down Chuck's spine, Chuck leaves bite marks all across Bryce's shoulders. Bryce falls asleep inside Chuck, wakes to Chuck mouthing his neck, fucks him twice more before hitting the showers and wiping the come off the floor.

part// three.