Survival Of The Fittest

((Tristan O'Hara continued from Nobody's Side))

“Putcha sneaaaaakers on; we’re going dancin’ all night loooong.”

What. A. Bop.

Tristan took another generous sip from his red solo cup as he swung his head to Vanessa Hudgen's impassioned demands, and thanked heavens that years of parties had taught him how to maintain a good poker face. He didn’t know what was in the drink he was clutching to his chest, only that it tasted like liquid fire, tempered only by the sickly sweetness of whatever generic soda had been frugally mixed in with it. It was not something he would ordinarily opt for, but his decision to attend this party had been so last minute, so disorganised, that he had to rely on the generosity of others to get him suitably fired up.

His recent fight with Nick was still a dull ache at the back of his mind, and worry that he might see him or just get generally overly-emotional with the addition of liquor to his system had stymied his desire to attend. Thankfully, those he’d encountered so far had been more than happy to give him a shot or a swig or a can, and by the time he found himself reclining against a wall in god know’s whose room, dopey grin plastered across his face, all his worries about attending this party had melted away.

So far, he’d chatted with friends, had a little boogie, played the odd game of beer pong (and lost all of them — at least that one constant of his life was stable and strong), and had generally made his presence known. Nothing terribly exciting had befallen him, but he couldn’t exactly count tonight as a bust.

It was nice to catch a brief moment of solitude, just to catch up on his social media and try to form an endgame or goal for the rest of his evening. Would he try to get lucky? Make some new best friend for the night? He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted, but in any case he needed to make sure he still looked presentable. His black corduroy shirt was already half-unbuttoned, and his tight, navy, gold, and white sateen pants hadn’t risen up too much, so he still looked cute-but-also-thotty-but-also-not-quite-a-mess. His desired party aesthetic, really.

He lifted his cup to his lips, took another swig, and found that he’d just choked down the last remnants of his drink. An easy decision, then. It was all well and good to chill by oneself if you had a drink to keep you company; less so if you were just being a loner.

Taking one final glance at his reflection in a nearby mirror, Tristan swung open the door, took a confident and perhaps a little sloppy stride out into the hallway, and immediately bowled into the nearest person.

"Watch where you're- oh. Oh, shit. Hey."

Of course it was Tristan. It was just that kind of party.

>> Axel Fontaine continued from Evergreen

It'd been a pretty uneventful night for Axel so far, which sure as hell wasn't what he wanted out of the party of the year. He had no clue where Andy had gone off to, Hel wasn't here, and he'd seen Lorenzo and Kayden making eyes on the dance floor which checked off one possibility for the night. The 20oz of Coke he was carrying around was probably half Jack at this point, since he kept topping up every time he drank a few sips, so he was pretty fucking drunk, which kept him from feeling too shitty. But still, he'd planned on doing a lot more with his night than stumbling around awkwardly looking for something to do.

The music sucked. He hadn't brought his guitar since with this many people around he didn't trust it to not get busted or stolen if he tried to leave it unsupervised, but he was regretting that decision more and more every time a new shitty dance song started up. Not that anyone on the dance floor looked like they shared his opinion, but whatever. He'd finally decided he needed a break from the noise and headed up to a slightly more private part of the house, hoping to find a room that no one was currently fucking in, or at least a room where the people fucking weren't super discriminate about company.

He'd not been planning on going in the door he was walking past—again, closed door probably meant fucking—until it opened, and its occupant nearly knocked him to the ground, which he wouldn't have minded too much considering who that occupant was. Tristan coming out of a private room merited checking the obvious, but glancing over his shoulder revealed no one else on their way out. Apparently he'd just been hanging out alone, which wasn't really a Tristan sort of mood. Was something up?

"S'you doin' up here? Party's downstairs. I mean, s'upstairs now, cause I'm... here." Smooth as hell.

Tristan’s Doc Martens lost their grip against the plush carpet of the hallway as he stumbled, causing him to instinctively wrap his arms around the unfortunate partygoer. He internally cringed at the social faux pas he’d made, but that feeling melted away at the familiar voice. He looked up at Axel’s face and grinned, straightening himself up and regaining his composure — as much as he could with a dozen different liquors running through him. Axel usually turned his legs to jelly anyway, so it’s not like the other boy would think anything was out of the ordinary, surely?



“Just explorin’. Thought I’d see if I could find like an adventure or something. And I found you, so I guess… mission accomplished?”



Tristan leaned forward and booped Axel’s nose with his finger. He didn’t know why; the urge just flared within him and he did nothing to resist it. He wrapped his arms around Axel’s torso once more and laced his fingers together, tightening their embrace. Axel was looking like a snack tonight. Not that he didn’t usually, but damn. And Tristan was suddenly very peckish.



He let his head sway as Sneakernight continued to blare in the background. Ugh, a cute boy, plenty of alcohol, and the song of the century. What more could he ask for?



“Isn’t this song greaaaat? Vanessa Hudgens is like, an underrated genius. You feel me?”

Who the fuck was Vanessa Hudgens? Was he supposed to know that? Wait, no, he was talking about the song, and whether or not he was supposed to know he definitely didn't give a shit who sang this. Tristan's taste in most things was questionable. Clothes, music... guys, a lot of the time. Kinda being uncharitable to himself, but hell, even he could see that he was a pretty bad choice. The more important thing here was that Tristan was fucking wasted. He'd have to be good for the time being. Taking advantage was no bueno. Of course, he was probably wasn't more than a couple of fingers of Jack away from catching up, so that was a real solvable problem.

He glanced back into the room Tristan had just left. Still empty, probably, unless he'd locked Myles in the closet or something. Which would be hilarious. Not Tristan's style though.

"Yeah, yeah, I feel you... you wanna sit down, babe? You're kinda wobbly." More than kinda. Axel wasn't sure he'd still be standing if he wasn't holding him. He absentmindedly ran his hands through Tristan's hair; that was innocent enough to not be taking advantage, right?

“Mmmm…” Tristan closed his eyes and bit his lip as Axel’s fingers rustled through his hair. The smallest touch from Axel usually sparked all kinda feelings, but tonight it was particularly strong. It seemed like all physical sensations were suddenly amplified when he was drinking. That’s probably part of why he liked it so much; everything bad seemed that less intense and everything good even moreso.



For a moment he just stood there, melting away in his enjoyment of Axel’s touch. He was just thinking of how he could be content just staying like that forever, when a burst of reality and acknowledgement of Axel’s unanswered question rocketed through him.

 Ugh, he was so protective. It was so cute. So... unlike what one might've expected from Axel based on appearance alone. Tristan liked it when people defied his expectations. Mostly; a notable exception being one certain boy by the name of Nick. But that wasn't worth thinking about, not now when there was Axel and everything good about him right in front of him.

“Oh, yeah, of course! Duh. Wobbly wobble.” Tristan squeezed Axel’s shoulder and planted his feet firmly on the ground as he reluctantly released himself from the other boy’s grip. He wasn’t about to accidentally upend Axel a second time in the span of a minute.



He strutted back to the hallway wall, propped himself against it, and attempted to slowly slide down into a seating position. It was almost graceful, too.



“You are very…. like, dashing tonight. Like a regular chiva... crival... vival... knight. Bro.” Tristan let slip a giggle at his own joke; he knew how bizarre Axel found it when he let terms like ‘dude’ slip into his vocabulary.



He beamed in Axel’s direction and gently patted his lap. It seemed like he’d found a direction for the night after all.


God fucking dammit this wasn't what he meant.

"Oi—babe, I meant—" He stopped, and sighed. Not worth it. "Fine, whatever."

He declined the invitation to sit in his lap, instead sliding down the wall rather less gracefully than Tristan had managed (how the fuck was this boy so attractive all the time) and sitting next to him, close enough to touch. This wasn't super ideal for the night going to way he wanted it to, not that he'd put it past Tristan to jump him in the hallway, drunk as he was. Not until he was drunk too, he reminded himself, and took that moment to take a gulp from his drink.

He looked at Tristan, giggling at his own speech, and yeah, he really was hot as fuck no matter what state he was in. The accent helped, even if it did always sound weird to him when words like "bro" slipped out of his mouth. Still, if he could concentrate for a sec, this was weird, wasn't it? Tristan wasn't really the type to spend a moment of a party alone. He was about the most social person Axel had ever met, and if he wasn't dancing or drinking or talking to someone that was because he was getting his dick wet. And continuing to assume that like Aurelien wasn't hiding under the bed or something, it seemed like Tristan was actually just... hanging out alone. Like, voluntarily.

Axel wasn't great at talking, and it didn't seem like Tristan was particularly upset or anything, but still, it stood out.

"I mean, wouldn't call this dashing, but I'll take whatever compliments y'got." He glanced down at his outfit, a very typical combination of an old Queen t-shirt, ripped jeans and heavy boots. On a whim he put his arm around Tristan's shoulder.

"You said you were 'splorin. You find anything in there? That where Forrest hides the weed?" He laughed at his own dumbass comment, but he kept his eyes on Tristan's face. What the hell had he been doing in there?

Tristan wriggled about to the beat of the music as Axel joined him on the floor, slightly disappointed he wasn’t seated on his lap but glad he’d still seen fit to get on his level.



He pouted as Axel almost dismissed his compliment. For someone as smoking as Axel was, he sure had no shortage of humility. He tried his hardest not to let the ecstasy rushing through him show as Axel enwrapped his arm around him, instead scooting ever-so-slightly closer letting his head loll gently onto the other boy’s shoulder.



“I mean, you always look good, boo. So… effortless. Sometimes I think I try too hard.” He gestured at his own ensemble, to punctuate his point and ran his hand over his thigh, appreciating the feel of the delicate fabric underneath. He found his gaze naturally turn to Axel’s own trousers and almost reached out to repeat the action when Axel threw forth a query. What had he found whilst adventuring in this uncharted territory of the house?



“God, wouldn’t that have been good? Nah, nothing too exciting or saucy. I dunno, I just… wanted a moment to myself. Spent half this party scared I’d run into certain peeps and just, like, needed to cool down a bit before I went back out there. You get me?”



He let out a wavering breath and snuggled up closer to Axel. There were certain things and certain people he really didn’t want to think about right now, and yet they were still, stubbornly, encroaching into the forefront of his thoughts. He needed a distraction.



“Anyways, what about ‘chu? How are you finding it?”


So would it be bad if he put his hand on Tristan's? Like, the hand that was conveniently currently located on his thigh. He was trying to be good for the time being since they were in the middle of the hallway and Tristan was definitely still drunker than him and, oh yeah, he was trying to be a good friend and shit, but y'know, his self-control wasn't great at the best of times. He elected to take a long draught from his bottle. And then he put it down next to him and put his free hand on Tristan's thigh anyway. Whatever.

"Trust me, babe, you'd look good in anythin'." He meant that. He kinda had to, with some of the fucking outfits he came up with and still managed to look hot in. No complaints about this one though. Tight pants, half-open shirt, not really a downside there?

Still, though, he found himself distracted. Distracted from the conversation by how much he wanted to drag Tristan from the floor and into the bedroom, sure, but distracted from that by what felt like it had to be something wrong.Like, Axel wasn't usually the most observant person on the planet, but he also know Tristan really, really well, and he could tell when he was trying to change a subject. But like, if he wanted to drop it, he should probably just drop it.

"S'not as fun as I'd hoped. Bad luck in findin' anyone to chill with, y'know? Mikki's busy with hostin' or whatever. Dunno where Andy got off to, Hel's not here... you saw Lorenzo and Kayden fuckin' around downstairs?" He raised an eyebrow. "No accountin' for taste, I guess."

"I spent too long pregaming and ended up gettin' here kinda late, anyway. So's my fault, I guess. Still, you're here now." He grinned at him. Their faces were awfully close. "Can't be too bad."

If he wanted to drop it, he should just drop it. Move on, probably get laid, right?

"Who's got you runnin' scared, babe? Do I need to punch someone?"

Curiosity always got the better of him.

It was pure elation when Axel picked up on his not-so-subtle hint and let his hand rest upon his thigh. It felt so good just to be touched again, even in this small way. He was slightly regretting wearing such tight pants now, though. It seemed to be a regret he had most of the time whilst around cute people, and yet he never seemed to learn. Cute people had that effect on him, he guessed.



He nodded as Axel filled him in on his night thus far, letting his face scrunch up at Axel’s last nugget of information. At a party like this, hook-ups involving former flames were inevitable and he prided himself on a general sense of apathy in that regard, but for the moment it was proving a bit of a sore spot.



“Da fuuuuck. Lorenzo and Kayden? Wow. I mean, Kayden is a good lay but he is such a cu- such a dick sometimes, you know? Good for them I guess.”

Thankfully, Axel followed up a little compliment and his trademark grin, and that flare of emotion died away as quickly as it had risen. A small chuckle escaped Tristan’s lips and he looked up to find just how close they’d gotten. He was about to move in a little closer, shift Axel’s hand higher up his thigh, when the other boy picked up on his comment about avoiding people and probed a little deeper. Tristan immediately regretted saying anything at all, but that didn’t stop the floodgates from opening once they’d been unlocked.



“It’s Nick. We… split. And it was bad. Like, really bad. Like, he made me feel so worthless and made me cry bad and we know I’m a dramatic little shit but I don’t cry at people. Just at like… sad musicals and shit.”



Tristan sucked in a sharp breath, trying not to let everything out at once. He instinctively went to take a drink, to ease the bitter taste of swallowing back his emotions, only to remember he’d already burned through all the alcohol he’d been able to scavenge tonight.



“You are a little cutie, you know that, right? Do… do you think you could get me a drink maybe?”



Tristan flashed Axel what he hoped would be a winning grin and gave his hand a small squeeze. With a second’s further thought, though, he realised that really wasn’t enough compensation. He pushed himself off the ground praying and hoping he could keep his balance with the liquor rushing through his veins, and gave Axel a small peck, letting his lips brush gently across Axel’s own.

God, it was hot. Like, temperature-wise. Like it wasn't particularly warm out, it was nighttime in April and there was definitely a cool wind blowing outside, but you cram enough bodies in one place and the temp just cranked up. Probably being drunk wasn't helping, either. Or Tristan existing. He was hot. The other kind. But also kind of the temperature kind? He was real warm. Touching him still felt nice though. What was he talking about again?

Back to listening. Kayden was, in fact, a cunt. No point in saying that out loud, though. Then Tristan dropped what could be super charitably described as a bombshell, but honestly? Axel'd seen it coming. And Axel sucked at relationships, so anyone with eyes must've seen this coming. It wasn't even the whole poly thing, though he couldn't really say he understood that (though he had appreciated it, he'd be a lot saltier about the whole thing if it'd kept Tristan away from him this whole time). They seemed to be handling that surprisingly well, though like, he didn't know, he hadn't heard the circumstances, maybe it had just come down to jealousy or something. But no, Axel had figured it wouldn't work out cause Tristan and Nick occupied very different spots on the high school social ladder, and they were both loyal enough to their friends that eventually that was gonna start some shit.

Expected or not, it didn't really matter. Circumstances didn't really matter, either, since Tristan obviously didn't want to go further into it. What mattered was the tremble in his voice, the way his breathing quickened. How he sounded like he might start crying again at any moment. Axel liked Nick well enough. He was fun in small doses. Or naked. But at this particular moment in time if he ran into him he'd be real, real ready to break something important.

He wasn't here though, as far as he knew. He'd seen most of the party and Nick stood out from the crowd. Which was almost unfortunate, since he felt a not-entirely-alcohol-fueled fire starting to burn in his stomach.

Whatever. Tristan probably wouldn't want him to do it. Would he? Should he ask? "You want me to kick his ass for you, babe?" He didn't say it. Sounded weird in his head. Tristan was asking him for a drink now, anyway, and he should probably do something about that. Maybe he should say no, actually? Or get him some water or something? He seemed pretty fucked up already.

Then their lips touched for the briefest instant and sure, more alcohol it is, coming right up. He just went through a breakup, he deserved it, right? Axl thought about offering his own drink, but he knew Tristan, it wasn't his thing. Whatever, he could find something.

"Won't be gone long." He cleared the tiny bit of space between them to kiss him again, a bit harder this time. Wouldn't be hard to just drag him into the bedroom, would it? He could probably lift Tristan. Maybe. Nah, he shouldn't. "Stay put, alright? Wouldn't want to lose ya."

He stood up slowly, his hand on Tristan's shoulder for a bit of balance, and managed to end up upright without hurting himself. Success! He gave Tristan a smile and a quick wave before turning toward the staircase. There was liquor in the basement, he was pretty sure. He'd make it quick.

>> Axel Fontaine (temporarily) continued in somewhere far away from mr. right

((Myles Roux continued from Got No Heart to Break))

Stupid Aurelien, stupid Dante, stupid party, stupid Julien, stupid Wyatt, stupid Ivy, stupid, stupid, STUPID- "GAH!"

Myles had been so consumed in his blind flight from the bedroom that the "blind" part had kind of taken over. That plus drunk teenagers sprawled out all over the place around the house now equaled Myles tripping right over somebody's leg in the hall and going sprawling himself.

He stayed facedown on the floor for a minute, waiting to see if he would either rage or cry. Neither dam broke though; a tight, hard knot stayed put in his chest and there was a lump in his throat to match it, but nothing rose above. You know what, fine. Fine. If the universe wanted to kick him around, he'd just lay right here forever and die right in Forrest's hallway and then he'd haunt her house and slam all the kitchen cabinets when she was trying to sleep, and that would teach her to have a big house that she invited people over to so that they could ruin Myles's night.

He stayed committed to that plan for about another fifteen or twenty seconds before the impression of the carpet on his face got irritating and he sat up with a growl, turning to the person he'd tripped over. "Watch where you're- oh hey."

The irritation didn't evaporate when faced with a drunk and disheveled Tristan, but it was quick to dial down a few notches. It had been a little while since he'd seen Tristan outside of school. Not since the thing with Nick and Gaelan. Myles knew how all of that had shaken out, of course, and had seen it coming a mile away even beforehand. The lack of any news from Tristan on that front was a good indicator of how he was taking it. At least Myles wasn't the only one miserable.

"Ugh!" Myles's exclamation and a couple seconds' considering were all that preceded his more or less flinging himself over Tristan's lap. "Babe, I'm having a horrible time. Say something funny and cute." He wasn't really sure how to deal with Tristan's bad moods, actually, so the best course of action was to just act normal until he got a hint.

God, kissing Axel felt so good. And it felt even better when the passion he unleashed was reciprocated.



Tristan smiled giddily back at Axel as he departed, even though a pang of loneliness began leaked into Tristan’s heart at the thought of suddenly being alone again; though it was tempered by the promise of more booze shortly being delivered to him. He let his head roll unevenly against the wall, half-to-the-beat-of-the-music, half-erratically-and-at-his-whim. All he had to do was wait until Axel returned.

 An easy feat.

Tristan let his eyelids flutter shut, and had almost let himself drift off when he was drawn out of his whimsy by a sudden yelp and the shock of a dead weight dropping straight down onto him. His eyes shot open, and though his vision was initially blurry, it didn’t take long to recognise the lump currently draped dramatically across him, demanding comfort.



Ordinarily, the sight of Myles at a party had an identical, almost rehearsed response. Idle conversation, a gentle touch, growing in intensity until one of them dragged the other into the nearest vacant room and they did what they knew best. But tonight was different. Not only did their familiar routine require the strength of lifting both himself and Myles up and then stumbling out of the hallway (which he was starting to severely doubt his ability to do), but because he doubted they could be done by the time Axel returned, and he would never abandon someone who’d just gone on a quest for him.



So inevitably Axel would be back, and Myles would probably still be flopped across him. It had never been just the three of them before, Tristan realised, and he wondered how that dynamic would work.



But that was a bridge he’d have to cross when they came to it. For now, there was Myle’s request of ‘something funny and cute’ to see to. God, Myles was cute when he was mad. To be fair, Myles was always cute, but there was something about his grumpy face and pouted lips that Tristan found irresistible.



“Your hair is like fluffy clouds,” Tristan murmured, letting his fingers needled through Myles’ curly locks. “You are my fluffy cloud.”



Tristan smiled Myles’ way, and as they locked eyes he found there was another feeling that crept up beyond what was going on in his pants.



“What’s got ya down, Mylo?”



Myles wasn’t the greatest at telegraphing his feelings, at least not in a wholly transparent way, but it didn’t hurt to ask, didn’t hurt to show he cared.

Myles held the pout for another few seconds before laughter bubbled up and wiped it away. Whatever he'd expected to hear, it wasn't that he was a fluffy cloud. That was the way with Tristan, in that your expectations were best met when you had no expectations at all, and Myles meant that in a good way for once.

Irritation still buzzed through him, but as he situated himself more comfortably in Tristan's lap, it faded. Background noise to the here and now, instead of the overwhelming rush that it had been a moment ago. Tristan was almost always good for that kind of thing; being around him was just a stress reliever.

The look he was giving Myles right now wasn't half bad, either.

"This party is lame," he whined, wrapping his arms around Tristan's neck. "I just ran into Aurelien, and he was super rude, and I dunno where Ivy is, and this whole week has been stupid." Was now a good time to bring up the Julien thing? Probably not. Myles also didn't really want to think about it much when Tristan had just made him feel a tiny bit better. Ruined the mood.

"And you know, I feel like I haven't seen you at all, and that sucks too."

Whoa, these stairs were steep.

>> Axel Fontaine back from getting his hands dirty in somewhere far away from mr. right

Axel waited until there wasn't any potential sightline between the crime scene and himself before shooting Andy a text. Assuming he wasn't unconscious by now, which wasn't all that safe of an assumption, he was probably gonna be the guy assigned to dragging Demetri's stupid ass out of the party. Which was kind of a bummer. Didn't really want to interrupt his best bro's good time. But hey, if he was busy Demetri could just stay unconscious on the floor for the rest of the night, no big. Breaking faces was usually a party foul, not to mention the vase he was pretty sure got broken, but so long as Mikki was in charge it wasn't him that was gonna take the heat for it. Plus, it was Demetri. Literally who was gonna be upset?

He scaled the stairs, very much looking forward to getting back to Jack and also Tristan, phone back in his pocket and a drink in both hands, and when he turned a corner into the hall where he'd left them—

Hey. It was just that kind of night, wasn't it.

Of course it was Myles who'd—okay "muscled in" felt like the wrong turn of phrase considering he was talking about a boy who barely had muscles, but whatever, he was sitting on Tristan's lap. He could literally drag the little fuck off and drop him down the stairs, but Tristan would probably consider that a downer on his night, and honestly, Axel was being a dick. He liked Myles. Like, a lot more than he should, considering the company he hung out with, and considering he was such a whiny brat half the time. But the times they spent together weren't exactly social calls, and he was real cute and real good at what Axel generally wanted him for, and it wasn't like they exactly hung out outside of that but on the rare occasion they actually had a conversation they had an embarrassing amount in common.

This was exactly the situation he'd be happy to see him in, usually, drunk and at a party directly in front of an open bedroom, but considering Tristan was there too he was more of an obstacle than a target. Either that or all three of them were gonna have to get a whole lot drunker.

He should have brought something stronger.

For the time being, he'd roll with it. He couldn't assume Tristan was gonna prioritize him, first dibs or no. He was a lot closer with Myles than Axel was, as in they were like, actually friends who rolled in the same sphere with the fuck-you rich and beautiful. Axel came from a real different place on the social ladder. Tristan never judged him for it. Myles always seemed like he was judging everyone.

After a pause of several seconds in his step to work out his options, Axel took the ten steps that separated him from the other two and plopped himself right down in his previous spot. Which put him real close to Myles, while he was at it.

"Yo. You work fast, huh?" He grinned and handed one of his drinks to Tristan before giving Myles a quick once-over and then offering him the other. "You look way too sober for this kinda night, my dude."

He didn't notice how his knuckles were dusted in still-wet blood.

The feeling of Myles all snuggled up against him left a smile etched on Tristan’s face. God, he was cute, even more so when he was as whiney and floppy and cuddly as he currently was. If there was anyone to keep him company in Axel’s absence, he was glad it was Myles.



Tristan nodded sagely as Myles listed off his complaints of the evening. Aurelian. Ivy. Not seeing him. Nothing too troubling, though it did sting to hear the upset in Myles’ voice about everything that had transpired so far.



“The most interesting thing about Aurelian is his name, boo. Don’t let him get you down.” Honestly, that wasn’t a lie. Tristan really didn’t know Aurelian that well, didn’t have a strong gauge on the boy’s interests or personality, so it might’ve been accurate for all he knew.



“I missed you toooo,” he murmured, brushing his lips against Myles’ forehead. He really meant it, too. It wasn’t fun missing out on Myles’ company, as nice as it may have been to avoid having to address what had happened with Nick—



Nick. God, why did he let the boy come into his thoughts again? It used to be so easy, just taking something he didn’t want to think about and putting it aside, finding some distraction. But Nick was stubborn and unmoveable as hell, and so too was his lingering presence in Tristan’s mind.



Tristan shook off those thoughts as best he could, and let his hand trail down Myles’ backside, finishing its path by getting a firm grip on the other boy’s rear. He wanted nothing more than to scoop him up and drag him into the nearest room, to let the two of them unload all of those negative feelings and become one. Why let just the idea of Nick put such a damper on his mood when he had Myles here, Myles who was so cute and unbridled with his affection in this moment, and sure Myles was judgemental and catty, but never towards him. And that made him special, right?



Tristan gave a squeeze with his occupied hand while he used the other to brace himself. He didn’t want to fall over again, now of all times. He locked eyes with Myles, pouted his lips ever-so-slightly, and was about to go in when Axel, bringer of alcohol, saviour of the thirsty thots, and gatecrasher of the horny Tristan, returned.



Any tension that might’ve filled the air immediately dissipated the second Axel let forth the requisite witty comment and plopped himself right next to the entangled Tristan and Myles, handing each of them a fresh beverage. Axel was so chill and Tristan was so thankful for that. Most other guys and his mind would’ve immediately started whirring away, trying to think of a solution that wouldn’t hurt feelings but would also not end with him left alone once more with only a beer for company.

“What can I say? I’m irresistable,” Tristan murmured in reply to Axel’s quip, before taking a long, deep gulp.

As Tristan let the warm, familiar embrace of liquor roll through him, he opted to shuffled himself and Myles even closer to Axel. The three were pretty much all on top of each other at this point, so he gave the scene once over to ensure that everybody was sitting comfortably. As he eyes swept over the two boys, he caught a glimpse of something off. A splattering of red across Axel’s hand, glimmering dimly in the hallway light. His heart began to fall. He’d wanted excitement tonight, but not like this.



Tristan squinted, deep in thought. He could choose to disregard it, feign blissful ignorance and let this moment of frivolity keep rolling along. That would be easiest, wouldn’t it? But there was a niggle of concern quickly rising up in him, and Tristan’s conscience was not something easily ignored, no matter that can of worms he might be about to unload.



“Axel, what did you dooooo?”