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writerwritesstuff · 8 years ago

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to be made of porcelain

Summary: “I haven’t eaten in two days,” Alex says to Justin’s sleeping form one night.

It feels good to tell someone, even if Justin can’t hear him.

Word count: 1779

Warnings: Eating disorder, suicide.

Alex’s parents don’t notice that he avoids meals, or maybe they don’t care. When he skips dinner for the third night in a row, mumbling some excuse about going to work on a project with a friend, his father tells him he needs to put some meat on his bones, but that’s as far as his concern goes. Alex’s mother is almost never home, so he doesn’t expect her to notice.

The blond can’t pinpoint exactly when it started, but he does know why. He thinks about it every time he forces himself to eat something in the morning, just so he doesn’t pass out at school. Every time he thinks about eating, about giving in, he reminds himself why he stopped, and suddenly he’s not hungry anymore.

Guilt fills his stomach instead, and it stops rumbling.

When Jessica notices, he tells her his stomach’s been acting up. She buys it, tells him he should see a doctor, all concerned eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

Alex tells her he will. The look on Jessica’s face tells him she knows he won’t.

Alex thinks about dying a lot. Most of the time, he hopes he’ll just have a heart attack, or be killed in some fatal accident. Some nights, he takes one of his dad’s guns out of the armoire in the basement. He sits on his bed, turns it over in his hands. After making sure it’s loaded, he puts it against his temple, but he never pulls the trigger. His finger trembles, ready for his brain to tell it to squeeze, but it never does.

He returns the gun and goes back to thinking about the likelihood of an accidental house fire.

Justin Foley calls him one night, drunk on Bryce’s parents alcohol, to tell Alex that he’s pretty. Alex rolls his eyes and tells Justin to fuck off, but can’t ignore the butterflies that flutter around inside of him. They feel so much better than the dull ache that comes with a perpetually empty stomach.

One afternoon, Alex notices Zach Dempsey watching him from across the table in the cafeteria. His eyes are soft and concerned, he’s frowning a little, and Alex excuses himself. He tries to think about something other than the feeling of Zach’s eyes on his back as he leaves the room.

If Alex ever caves, gives into temptation and eats something, he listens to the recording of his tape that he took on his phone. It’s quiet, and the quality is low, but he can hear Hannah’s voice reminding him that he killed her.

He’s not sure if it’s because of the food he ate or the guilt he feels, but he throws up.

When Alex is called in to see Mr. Porter because another student is concerned about him, he knows it was Zach. He tells Mr. Porter he’s fine, just not sleeping well. Despite the very obvious look of disbelief the guidance counsellor sends him, he lets Alex go.

Alex stops going to the cafeteria at lunch.

There is nothing romantic about how his relationship with Justin Foley starts.

Alex gets high with him for the first time in his life, and they end up making out on the couch in Bryce’s pool house. They fall asleep curled up together, Alex tucked under Justin’s arm, and when they wake up like that, Justin holds him tighter, tells him not to leave.

When Alex’s heart starts racing, he hopes, for the first time, that it isn’t a heart attack.

For the most part, they keep their relationship to themselves. They don’t go on dates or kiss in the halls. Sometimes, when they pass each other on their way to class, Justin can’t help but reach out, touch Alex’s bicep as he passes. Alex smiles at him, and they continue on.

They save the affection for the nights when Alex’s parents are working and Justin stays over. Some nights they’ll cuddle up in Alex’s bed and talk with some movie on as background noise until they can’t keep their eyes open anymore. Other nights are filled with deep kisses and fumbling hands that are desperate to please and always do.

Alex welcomes the distraction from the urge to stare down the barrel of a loaded gun.

Alex replaces his recording of his tape with a voicemail Justin left him. When he wants to eat, he listens to it, and the butterflies he gets when Justin tells him he’s perfect make him forget all about his hunger.

Justin thinks Alex is beautiful like this. Alex doesn’t want to change.

Alex’s mom asks him how much he weighs one morning. The question startles him a little, and his heart speeds up. She eyes him curiously, waiting for an answer.

He tells her he weighs one hundred thirty-five pounds, knows that’s the highest he can tell her without her knowing he’s lying.

She nods once and leaves for work.

When Justin tells his friends, the ones Alex pretends to like, about their relationship, they don’t mind. Alex is surprised that a group of teenage boys aren’t phased by being friends with a gay couple, but he’s happy all the same.

Until Justin wants him to start eating lunch with them again.

Gradually, the not-eating thing stops being a punishment for kill Hannah, and becomes about being skinny. He knows it’ll be noticeable if he starts to eat again, he’s so thin now that any weight gain will be obvious, so he keeps avoiding food like it’s poison.

As he stares at his naked torso in the bathroom mirror before he goes for a shower, he runs his fingers over his ribcage, presses into the space between each bone, and he smiles.

Justin holds Alex’s hand the first time they walk into the cafeteria together, and he feels Alex’s pulsepoint throb against his own, too hard and too fast.

“Something wrong?” He whispers into his boyfriend’s ear.

Alex shakes his head, swallows hard. “Just nervous,” he murmurs.

It’s true, but not for the reasons Justin thinks.

Zach Dempsey takes one look at Alex and his face falls. When no one else is paying attention, he tells Alex that he doesn’t look too good, that he’s concerned.

Alex smiles weakly in response. “I’m fine,” he assures him quietly, “just, you know- my stomach thing.”

Zach doesn’t look convinced, but he’s pulled into conversation by Montgomery. Alex lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and leans into Justin.

“I haven’t eaten in two days,” Alex whispers to Justin’s sleeping form one night.

It feels good to tell someone, even if Justin can’t hear him.

Alex finds a pamphlet with ‘Your Child and Eating Disorders’ in bold letters and a picture of a mother and son talking on the front on the table, along with some bills and his mother’s pay stub. Tears burn his eyes and he rips the paper in half before he can stop himself.

He takes a deep breath, throws the pamphlet in the garbage, and leaves for school without forcing himself to eat.

Justin asks him to eat something for him one night, when Alex’s parents are gone and he doesn’t want to go home.

Alex shakes his head, grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and tells him he’s not hungry.

He feels Justin press against him from behind, wrapping his arms around Alex’s middle. “Lex, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat,” he says, his hands slipping under the hem of Alex’s shirt, thumbs rubbing the dip under his hipbones, “you’re so skinny. I’m worried.”

Alex swallows hard, setting the bottle of water down. “I’m fine, Justin. Really. I’ll eat if you want me to, but it’s- I’m fine,” he sighs, stepping away from Justin.

“Please,” Justin whispers, looking at Alex with scared eyes.

Alex spreads some peanut butter on a piece of bread. His hands tremble as he bites into it, and he chews for much longer than he should. As he eats, thoughts of Hannah saying it started with him and Justin calling him pretty fill his mind.

He gets through half of the bread before he rushes to the bathroom to vomit.

Justin tries to tell Alex to get help from someone, to talk to Mr. Porter or even the school nurse, but Alex says no. He tells Justin it’s no big deal, that he could eat if he wanted to.

Justin asks why he doesn’t, but Alex won’t give him an answer.

Alex faints at school one morning when Justin is walking him to class. He’s lucky that Justin is there to catch him so he doesn’t fall to the floor and hurt himself.

He wakes up a few seconds later with blurred vision and he doesn’t know where he is. Justin tells him they’re going to the nurse.

Alex tries to say no, to struggle out of Justin’s grip, but Justin is adamant and eventually Alex doesn’t have the energy to fight him anymore.

The nurse calls his mom, who’s at work. She tells Mrs. Standall that it’s important, and she needs to come to the school immediately.

When Alex’s mom gets there, the nurse tells her Alex weighs 109.6 pounds and asks if she noticed Alex starving himself. The phrase makes Alex cringe.

His mom says no, but Justin chimes in, says he has noticed it. Alex glares at him weakly, but Justin just pats his knee.

That evening, Alex’s mom makes him an appointment with their family doctor and won’t let Alex leave the table until he eats something. His dad watches him, disappointment clear in his face each time he struggles to swallow a bite.

He feels sick, knows he’s probably going to vomit, but his mom watches him, won’t let him go upstairs. She tells him he needs to keep it down, and he tries, but after not too long he’s throwing up in the toilet. He hears his dad saying something about how only girls starve themselves, and is tempted to smash his skull against the porcelain toilet bowl.

Alex’s dad goes out for his night shift at around eight thirty, and his mom falls asleep on the couch watching some soap opera. Alex sneaks down to the basement and grabs a revolver from the armoire.

He sits on his bed and tells himself he can do it. He doesn’t write a note, leave tapes, none of that. Instead, he sends a text to Justin, just a simple ‘i love you’.

After unloading and reloading the gun twice, Alex finally puts it against his temple.

This time, he doesn’t think twice about pulling the trigger.

#justlex #justin foley #alex standall #thirteen reasons why #13 reasons why #13rw #fanfic #oneshot

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writerwritesstuff · 8 years ago

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use your hands and my spare time (justin foley/alex standall)

Summary: Alex leads Justin up the stairs, and he isn’t sure why he let him in in the first place.

Alternatively, what happened the night Justin went to Alex’s.

Word count: 3188

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, suicidal thoughts, mentions of rape, smut

Alex leads Justin up the stairs, and he isn't sure why he let him in in the first place. He hates Justin, ever since he heard those tapes, what he did to Jessica.. He wanted nothing to do with Justin fucking Foley; anyone who could let someone be raped is just as bad as a rapist. But Alex couldn't turn him away, not if he was desperate enough to come to Alex for a place to stay. "You're sleeping on the floor," Alex mumbles as he leads Justin into his bedroom. Justin doesn't say anything, and Alex doesn't turn around but he assumes Justin nodded. Not that he has any room to complain. Alex tosses a pillow and his duvet onto the floor, keeps the soft throw blanket that he hides under his duvet for himself. If his dad knew he liked to curl up under something so soft and plush every night, if he knew how much it comforted Alex, he'd never let him hear the end of it. "Turn off the light whenever," the blond mutters, pulling his laptop out from under his bed and turning it on. "Thank you," Justin says quietly as he flicks the light off. Alex doesn't watch but he hears just undress, strip down to his underwear, "for letting me stay." "Yeah," Alex sighs, opening up the browser on his computer and signing in to Netflix, "Just go to sleep. You look like you need it." "So do you," Justin comments, and Alex sees his silhouette disappear below the edge of his bed, knows he's lying down. "I'll sleep eventually," Alex mumbles, even though he knows he won't, not tonight. Justin sighs softly but doesn't speak. Alex assumes he knows better than to push his buttons. Justin falls asleep after not too long. Alex lays awake and absently watches Donnie Darko. He thinks about how he wishes the engine of a plane could fall on his bedroom; die in some freak accident so he doesn't have to do it himself. Hours pass, midnight becomes three AM, and Justin stirs for no reason at all. He's unsure of where he is at first, but the sounds of quiet voices coming out of a computer speaker reminds him. He sits up, sees Alex sitting on his bed, watching some show on his laptop with tired eyes. The blond looks over at Justin, the same solemn expression he always wears still carved into his feature. Justin wonders when the last time he saw Alex smile was. "What?" Alex mutters, rubbing his eyes. Justin frowns, wondering why he's even awake, what he's expecting from Alex. "What time is it?" "Three thirty," he says, pausing the random black and white movie he'd put on but hadn't really watched a second of. "Aren't you gonna sleep?" Alex sighs, running a hand through his short hair. "I don't know, Foley. What's it matter to you?" "You don't sleep, do you?" Alex rolls his eyes, "Everyone sleeps, dipshit." Justin opens his mouth to speak again, but Alex cuts him off. "Just drop it. It's not your problem if I sleep or not." Justin falls silent, and Alex starts the movie again, thinks he's going to leave it alone, go back to sleep, but of course not. "Were you going to drown yourself in Bryce's pool?" Alex tenses, but he doesn't look away from his laptop. "I liked you better when you were asleep." "You didn't care if you crashed your car when we were trying to scare Clay, right?" Alex groans, throwing his head back against the wall behind his bed. "What do you want, Justin?" "You're suicidal," Justin states, like he's just figured out the answer to the most important question in the world. "If I say yes will you shut up and go back to sleep?" "You don't have to say yes," Justin says, standing up, "I know you are." Alex swallows as Justin approaches him, but tries not to let his nervousness show. "That's great. Want a gold star?" Justin sits on the edge of Alex's bed, and he scoots away immediately. "Why?" the brunette asks, reaching over and pausing the movie again. "Wow, my own personal therapist," Alex tries to sound sarcastic, but his voice trembles a little and he knows Justin can hear it. "It doesn't matter, Justin." "It matters," Justin says, fixing Alex with a hard stare, "I didn't see it with Hannah, but I know now. I see it in you." Alex tries to hold Justin's gaze, but he feels his strong facade start to falter, so drops his gaze to his laptop screen, where Marion Crane is frozen on the shower floor. He hadn't even realized what he was watching until then, too distracted by the thoughts that rattled around in his brain. "Why?" Justin asks again, and Alex glances over at him for a second, surprised to see genuine concern written on his face. "I killed Hannah, I lost Jessica, and I will never be who my dad wants me to be," Alex says bitterly, "is that what you wanted to hear?" "Alex-" "Stop it, Justin," Alex mutters through gritted teeth, "I'm not going to spill my guts to you, of all people. Go back to sleep or get the fuck out." Alex's words are weak, no real threat behind them, and when he feels the empty side of his bed sink under Justin's weight, he knows Justin could tell. Justin closes Alex's laptop, puts it down on the floor next to the bed. "You're gonna kill yourself because of that?" "I never said I was going to," Alex mutters, ignores the part of him that wants to scream yes, I am going to kill myself and please stop me, no one else cares enough to stop me. "Fine," Justin sighs, and Alex feels his heart sink down into his stomach, thinks of course he doesn't care, before Justin continues. "Say you were. That'd be why?" "Is that not reason enough?" Alex whispers, tired and not totally confident in his emotional ability to handle this conversation. "I don't think so," Justin says, propping himself up on his elbow and staring down at Alex, "Compared to everyone else, what you did to Hannah was nothing, man. And you fucked up with Jessica, but she's just a girl, you know? It sucks, but it's not worth dying over. And nobody ever lives up to their dads expectations." Alex narrows his eyes at Justin, and before he can stop himself, says, "I didn't let you stay here so you can tell me I'm wrong for wanting to kill myself when my list made all those guys, including Bryce, harass Hannah, I treated Jessica like shit cause she wouldn't sleep with me, and my dad hates me because I made him move towns. I'm sick of fucking everything up and being a disappointment, so I think me wanting to die is completely fucking justified." Alex huffs out a breath, turning onto his side to avoid looking at Justin. He squeezes his eyes shut and curses himself for saying all of that, for admitting to Justin that he wants to die because it's all too real now. Justin will either tell somebody and try to get him help or he won't tell anyone, just brush it off and give Alex more reason to want to kill himself. "Alex," Justin begins, voice unbelievably soft, resting a hand on Alex's shoulder. Alex flinches away like he's been burned by Justin's hand. "Let's just go to sleep, alright?" The blond feels Justin settle into the bed next to him, and hopes to a God he doesn't believe in that Justin will leave him alone. God has never been on Alex's side, though, and of course, Justin has more questions. "How did you make your dad move?" "Don't ask questions you don't wanna know the answer to," Alex mutters, even though what he really means is don't ask questions that I don't want to answer. "I wanna know," Justin says, followed by a quiet "please?" Alex doesn't speak for a second, but then he figures that he's got nothing to lose. Justin can go ahead and try to ruin Alex's already ruined reputation. He doesn't plan on being around much longer anyways. "My dad's.. manly, you know? All that 'yes sir no sir' bullshit, you heard it. He's really religious too, and he wants me to be just like him.." Alex pauses, hesitating, unsure if he really wants to finish the story. "I had a boyfriend. My dad found out, pulled me out of school and we moved two weeks later." The younger boy keeps his eyes closed but flips onto his back. He waits for Justin's reaction, for him to get up and leave, call him a fag, but it never comes. "That's harsh," come his softly-spoken words instead, "to move because of a boyfriend?" "Not when you're my dad, a cop with a perfect reputation. Can't have a faggot son, no sir," Alex laughs humourlessly. "So what, he thought you'd turn straight if you moved?" Justin asks, earning a quick nod from Alex. "I guess he was right, then. You know, Jessica." "I'm not gay," Alex says, rolling his eyes, "I just, I don't know, I don't have a preference, I guess. There's a lot of hot guys here anyway. My dad was wrong. I'm just going to hide it." "Hot guys? Who?" Justin asks, curious and maybe hopeful, though Alex chalks that up to his own lack of sleep. Alex decides to indulge him. He's already embarrassed himself enough. "Definitely Zach," he begins, a small smirk on his lips, "Jeff was hot too. Tony. Tyler's cute but he's too creepy, not my type anyway. Ryan could be if he wasn't a stuck up douchebag. Monty is alright." Once he's done, he glances over at Justin. The brunet is staring at him, and somehow Alex isn't uncomfortable. "Anyone else?" Justin asks, and there's that hopeful tone again. "Quit fishing, asshole. You already know you're hot, I don't have to tell you." Alex says, nudging Justin with his elbow. "I think you're hot too," Justin says, scooting closer to Alex so their shoulders are together. Alex swallows, willing himself not to scoot away. "Thanks?" "I’ve heard you're a virgin," Justin whispers, and he's right there, right in Alex's ear. The blond's cheeks heat up and he's grateful that Justin put his laptop on the floor so the room is too dark for him to notice. "Yeah," is all he says, his voice small and nervous, doesn’t ask who told him that, already knows.

Alex feels wetness on his jawline, and it takes him a second to realize that Justin's got his lips on him, kissing him. "What are you doing?" Alex asks, but he doesn't move, lets his eyes close instead. "Want me to stop?" Justin asks, and part of Alex wants to say yes, shove him out of the bed and back onto the floor. Part of Alex wants to say no, tell him to keep his mouth on him, to kiss him properly. He opts to say nothing, just tips his head to the side and exposes his neck. Justin accepts the invitation, leaving a trail of wet kisses down Alex's neck. Alex watches with wide eyes as Justin pulls the throw blanket off of Alex's body and straddles his hips. Justin slides his hands under Alex's shirt, running his fingertips over the boy's torso. Alex silently hopes Justin won't comment on how skinny he is. The older boy tugs the collar of Alex's shirt down, attaches his lips to the soft skin in the dip of his collarbone, begins to suck and nibble at his flesh. Alex knows he should tell Justin to stop, knows the mark will be hard to hide, but he can't bring himself to care. Instead, he bites his lip to suppress the moans that are threatening to escape, exchanges them for panted breaths and the occasional whine, and tries not to feel pathetic. Justin slides a hand out from under Alex's shirt and reaches between them, uses it to palm Alex through his flannel pyjama pants. "Fuck," Alex moans, pushing his hips up into the brunet's hand. "Pretty slutty for a virgin," Justin comments, moving his lips back up Alex's neck to his jawline. "Shut up," Alex breathes, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as Justin continues to touch him. The older boy kisses his way up to Alex's lips, and then finally, finally presses their lips together. Immediately, Alex kisses him back, pushes up against him desperately. He's embarrassed, deep down, but pushes it aside to enjoy the moment. It's been so long since he's been kissed, hell, he can't even remember the last time someone properly hugged him. Justin can sense his desperation, how badly he wants, needs to be touched, and pulls back just enough that he can speak. "I'm not going anywhere, Alex," he whispers into the blond's ear. Alex shivers, feels himself blushing again and wonders when he stooped low enough to melt in Justin Foley's hands, of all people. After giving him a short nod in response, Alex kisses him again, softer this time, slower. Less like Justin's touch is his lifeline, more like he wants to savour the attention. Justin slides his tongue over the seam of Alex's lips, and Alex immediately breaks it, lets Justin's tongue slide into his mouth, rub up against his own. In the past, the sensation made Alex cringe, but there's something so wonderfully erotic about the way Justin explores his mouth. Justin slides a hand down the front of Alex's pants, wraps a hand around him and gives his length one full stroke before Alex breaks their kiss to gasp, tipping his head back. "This okay?" Justin asks, his hand stilling. Alex nods, takes a deep breath and tells himself to calm down, it’s just a handjob. “Yeah,” he whispers, finally looking at Justin, is met with blown pupils and a concerned face.

“Never been touched like this?” Justin chuckles, flopping down onto the bed next to Alex.

The blond wants to stop him, tell him to finish what he started, but Justin keeps his hand down Alex’s pants, so he decides to hold off. “Fuck you, I have,” Alex huffs, eyes wandering down Justin’s body, which is only illuminated by the streetlight outside his window.

The cool-toned streetlight looks an awful lot like moonlight, and Alex decides this is kind of beautiful. As beautiful as two teenage boys who don’t really like each other fooling around in the middle of the night can be, that is. The most Alex has ever done with anyone else was exchanging blowjobs in the back of his ex’s truck, and chances are he’ll never get anything else, so he lets himself believe it’s beautiful.

Alex’s eyes land on Justin’s erection, clearly visible through his boxers. One of his hands lifts from his side before he can stop himself and he drops it onto the brunet, his thin fingers just barely brushing over his length. He glances over at Justin, sees that he’s biting his lip, and takes that as encouragement to slip his hand under Justin’s underwear, grab him properly.

Justin hums, a quiet noise of approval, and then he rubs his thumb over the head of Alex’s cock, begins to work his hand over the younger boy in a steady rhythm. It’s a little dry and almost uncomfortable, so Justin pulls his hand away, licks his palm, and then continues.

Alex does the same, wets his hand and then shoves it back down Justin’s underwear. He follows the brunet’s lead, tries to match his speed, but it’s hard to focus when someone’s touching your dick, so Alex finds himself faltering, his hand stilling at the base of Justin’s member every so often. Justin doesn’t seem to mind, just keeps stroking Alex and occasionally rocking his hips up and reminding the blond to move.

There’s nothing romantic about it, really. Alex knows Justin probably just wants to get off, probably does this with all of his friends, but he can’t stop the way his heart flutters when he really thinks about how intimate their current situation is. Maybe it’s not as intimate as it could be, but only one other person has ever touched Alex’s dick.

“Stop thinking,” Justin whispers, his voice weak and shaking.

Alex turns his head to the side, presses his face against Justin’s neck. He doesn’t trust that his brain and mouth can communicate well in such a state, so he kisses Justin’s neck instead to keep himself from saying something stupid. Pumping Justin’s length faster, Alex tries to focus on getting him off.

“You gonna come for me like this?” Justin asks, and Alex shivers at the raw pleasure in his voice. The brunet rubs his thumb over the tip of Alex’s member, slow and patronizing, and he gasps softly against his skin.

“Yes,” Alex whispers, and isn’t sure what comes over him when he adds a quiet “please, sir”.

Justin’s eyes widen, Alex feels him twitch in his hand, and then he’s spilling over Alex’s hand and his underwear with a moan that he muffles with his free hand. The younger boy keeps stroking his shaft until Justin is spent, then keeps holding him, unsure of what to do with his hand.

After a moment of recovery, Justin remembers Alex’s still hard cock in his hand, and continues pumping him fast. It doesn’t take much for Alex to finish, and he moans Justin’s name into his neck as he comes, eyelids fluttering shut and thighs shaking.

They stay like that for a few minutes before Alex comes to his senses, thinks what the fuck did I just do and pulls his hand away like Justin’s spunk is battery acid that he accidentally dipped his hand in.

He strips in a hurry, wipes his hand off on his own boxers then slips back into his pyjama pants. Standing next to the bed, Alex waits for Justin to get up, stares at him pointedly.

“What, no cuddles?” Justin asks, and Alex detects a hint of disappointment underneath his sarcasm.

“No cuddles, get up,” Alex says, nods at the floor beside the bed, “what if my dad comes in? What if he heard us?”

Justin raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t protest, gets out of the bed like he’s told. “We weren’t that loud. Can I borrow a pair of boxers?”

The blond flops on his bed, tells Justin they’re in his dresser, and curls up underneath his throw blanket. All kinds of thoughts rattle around in his brain, from the possibility of his dad knowing and moving them again to wondering why the hell he and Justin Foley just jerked each other off in his bed and why Justin acted like it was no big deal.

Alex doesn’t sleep a wink.

#justlex #justin foley #alex standall #thirteen reasons why #13 reasons why #13rw #fanfic

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