#anywherebound

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / Chapter V : drowning in our fiery river

If I had a chance, babe To go back in time, maybe I'd try a time or two This life took you in, babe The same life that reminds me I could never love me like you do

•

The best things in life are free and need to be let go

So take one last good look Let's share one last cigarette I'll be gone by the time you're ashin' it Stop askin' things you know the answers to There ain't no world in which I am good for you

And we're layin' on the roof of my car Feelin' young, feelin' numb, feelin' starved Of all the things a moment can be This one's best kept a memory How the kindest parts of my mind are you and me

•

❤️‍🩹•••••••••••••••••••🏜️

Trevor's journal entry: i don't necessarily miss the old you. more of the way you made me feel. the old you wouldn't have been able to keep up with this. the old you were too innocent, hardly jaded. i kind of miss being like that too. ill savor every last burning glow until we are man enough to set this alight.

notes : remastered version of zach bryan's this road i know poem in here!

6/3/23

10:07am

One week since the interaction after the party that had happened.

7 days. 8 hours. 24 minutes; and the seconds counting down at abnormal haste. The days have just been wasting away, and empty promises were broken despite not having anything to be broken. Since the draft year, everything has just been numb. Sure, being able to play together again which they always dreamed of as a kid was nice, but there was always some unexplainable void missing.

History with Trevor and Jamie is like a giant fucking rollercoaster. One night they were the average boy duo, and the next Jamie was in Trevor's bed and vice-versa. Doing stupid shit never changed, though. Whether it be running around abandoned buildings, doing drugs laced with a ton of dangerous substances Trevor found off the street that should've killed them, or in general just fucking around; nothing ever seemed to change. Just an endless cycle of ups and downs that deceived and ruined them to the point trusting anything good was impossible since it would be so unpredictable where it would end up. Juxtaposition is a way to describe it, not knowing where the road leads but knowing exactly where it ends.

It's like a premonition that someone would get late at night lying in their bed endlessly pondering the purpose of their souls being on this fucking floating rock. These fever dreams, a vision of sorts were hard to figure out; not knowing why but knowing exactly why. When not knowing where the hell someone could be but knowing exactly where. Feeling the gravel underneath the tires. Where it's pitch black, and the car is warm but still able to feel the cold November night air, and the presence of someone who isn't there. Driving for the longest time and all that's visible are the high beams burning down the highway, for what seems like growing perpetuity. Where everything is empty and hopeless and desolate and nothing is around for miles beside the particles of dust swirling around in the headlights like moths drawn to a light. Where being lost and knowing exactly where the destination is; is just custom. The nothingness keeps the car and that someone safe, warm, and driving until they see a small porch light glowing in the distance; a low one burning dim that grows closer and slightly stronger while it flickers. The closer that someone gets the more they see, enough to make out a house with fairy lights strewn inside. Several familiar cars with windshields frosted over that looked like they hadn't been disturbed for days until a faint song that someone can't make out the name but they know every lyric. They start to feel, noticing their disassociation dissipating away and the feeling in their feet coming back. It's cold and they're crunching on the thin layer of snow blanketing the area that stretched for miles and miles and miles, just letting their feet take them from muscle memory. The wind takes the sound of their breath with it, and they make it up to the door and they knock when they feel they don't have to. Not knowing where they are but knowing exactly where they are. The crack of fairy lights inside widens on the doormat laid on the porch that just seems to welcome them without needing any design on it; just the dusted footprints smudged across the scraggly fur of it being lit up by the lights. A boy opens the door, with the biggest smile the world ever could have witnessed if they were there. Some boy that someone could not know yet know so well, with the warmest and most approachable home they'd ever seen. It's warm-toned and comfortable-looking, with a fire and the bulb-lit living room.

''Where have you been? I've been waiting for you all night? I missed you?'' He says, tapering off the sentence with a peaceful sound that a boy his age makes; finding peace in whatever post-adolescent and mature rage he had. Grabbing them by the forearms and pulling them into the living room; there are people. They're content, and they're happy; people someone who has no idea who they are but know exactly who they are, laughing at a joke they'll never hear again. He tucks his head between his collar and jaw, but there's no weight at all. It's laughter and grins and no tomorrow to fight for since it will be waiting for them. Where someone doesn't know where they are but knows exactly where they are.

The someone is Trevor. He knows exactly where he'd end up if he kept up with these habits, and kept up with Jamie.

Jamie was crushed cans of IPA's and Coors Light. He was a liquor-soaked, smoke-choked jacket a boy would give someone after running from the cops after a party and hiding out in the woods behind their house. He was a scratchy cheek stubble and ''Oh, Trev..'' when Trevor would do something dumb. He was days of not leaving his house, hotboxing his old bedroom in his childhood home, and laughing off his high with Trevor by his side, following suit. He was months of not taking care of himself and letting himself get pale and skinny. Sometimes a silence, and sometimes too much noise. A strange laughter that could make him laugh while trying to be the tough guy, until there was no more laughing and he was walking away as the door slams for the 17th, 18th, 19th, time. He was fighting Trevor every night, and he was the guilt and responsibility every time he relapsed because Jamie couldn't control his emotions and mood swings. Jamie is the need to help but then lands himself in another shitty situation. He was the boy that Trevor's mom loved and said he talked about 24/7, and that he was a keeper. He was told by Trevor he was worth it, and he is the constant thought of: ''Do you still think that?".

Trevor was 3am, climbing through his window, ounces of weed, and blowing smoke out into the chilly northern air. He was the truth in his words when he promised he wouldn't leave him, because no matter what Jamie would do or how many times he left him; he couldn't stand living without him, since that dark-haired shy Canadian boy was a piece of him he needed to function. He was bottles of emptied liquor. He was pouring out both Jamie's and his alcohol every time they tried to detox and attempt to quit. Trevor was the loud-mouthed boy who came running back to Jamie, smirking with a busted lip because he was so damn cocky and annoying. He was the boy Jamie's mother would hear about for hours on end, about how much he loved but hated him. He was the one Jamie always had under him. He was the one Jamie loved, but the one they grew sideways and into each other, and instead of growing healthy and strong as they should; their worlds collided and the gates of hell seemed to bust open. But most of all, he was the boy who wore the jacket that Jamie was.

They used to work. The same cycle of ''I'm sorry's'' and ''I love you's'' and ''We'll do it for real, this time's'' always seemed to cut it. Same goddamn cycle.

Wash, rinse, fucking repeat.

•

''Sorry for um.. everything really.''

sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry

Jamie tried to cut that word out. He was never really sorry enough to break the pattern. It just came back; tougher, meaner, and stronger with the apathy his false apologies held and released.

Trevor's fiery, slowly dimming hair and unruly curls curtained over his eyes. Jamie's voice clouded over in his head until he could make out his face that was tattooed in his brain. Disassociation, everyone calls it; feeling light and heavy at the same time, where nothing feels natural but they feel too real to exist.

The younger boy reached out his hands to touch Trevor's, as he lay next to him in the bed of the truck. His big hands; so chapped and methodical with speckles of coke in his fingernails reached out to stroke Trevor's soft, bitchboy hands. Trevor was a bitch. An annoying little bitch. Jamie's bitch.

He made eye contact with Jamie, as the summer Californian sun beat down on them. The dark-haired boy's face was like a picture or a polaroid photograph plated in gold around the edges. Trevor stared at him, his eyes heavy and half-lidded. It was so hot out, Jamie's idea to hang out on the foothills was such a shitty idea. Hot enough that they were wishing they had a river to jump into and get rid of all their worries

A river that would hurt so much to make; the pain was nagging and constantly following them around like a lost puppy. All at once, breathing like a bull in a rodeo chute, the pain would rush in and pull them under fiercely until all they could do was drown.

''You aren't. Stop bullshitting me.'' Trevor said with an unkind, rough rasp. Because when someone loves someone else, they shouldn't need to say sorry, right? They shouldn't have to even do anything worth apologizing for. But hey, newsflash boys; not everything is so happy-go-fucking-lucky like the movies. It was all a goddamn blur. Every night blended together with the hangovers caused by each other's mistakes. Where might someone put a person who apologizes to them for wrongdoing? The dead, the alive, the ones that hover like ghosts. Trevor is alive after giving Jamie every last piece of him; staying with him thick and thin even if that meant piercing the veil he wore to protect himself. He's alive, but more like a soulless corpse that walks around acting and looking like a zombie. With his sunken, dark-circled eyes and watching the world from a distance. Even with Jamie where the world seemed like it was coated in gold, it was just a glimpse of what could've been. Some people just don't work.

''I try to be. I want..'' Jamie trails off, gazing at Trevor with a longing look.

''Us. Do you want us...?'' The kindest parts of Jamie's heart is with Trevor and Trevor only. Nobody reads him the way Trevor does. Nobody has stuck with him the way he does. He's the part of his mind he keeps wrapped tightly together with layers and layers of protection around. If he had the chance, he would somehow change the road that lead to the shape they were in, in a heartbeat. He's so starved for Trevor. So. Fucking. Starved. There is no world they are good for each other, and the hope they could create one is long gone by now.

''Quit asking questions you know the answers to.'' Trevor wants them. More than anything. Nothing can change the past and how much they broke each other, and trying to pick up the pieces just cut their hands to shreds.

''Yeah. Sorry.''

sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry

Jamie and his sorry attempts. He wishes he could just brush the hair from Trevor's face and tell him: sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.

Trevor hasn't left yet, but there's still a distance between them. A void where everything has been lost, and fed back into the blur.

''...I don't wanna leave. I don't. I fucking don't. But you made me realize we aren't good for each other. We just don't.'' The breeze of the foothills swayed Trevor's hair, and took his choking voice with it.

''I know, but I don't know if this will be the last time cause-''

''Just shut up. I don't wanna hear it. Just wanna spend what time I have left with you before my clock runs out and I have to get my ass up and bring myself back home; and god.. sort out shit with the league and all this..'' His words were endearing yet aggressive because he wanted to stay with Jamie, even though he had a deadline with him. God knows Jamie hates deadlines. Trevor interlaced his fingers with Jamie, breathing in the scent of booze and weed as he tucked his head between the younger boy's collar and jaw. Trevor felt electric for the first time in a while, like the same electric blue in Jamie's dead eyes.

''What even happened? I wanna know what the fuck happened.'' Jamie blurted out, trying to close the dam and keep the river of words from flowing out over Trevor and drowning him.

''I know, but I don't. My guess is we got too fucked up somewhere on the road, maybe when our first season started. I think we might have just gotten a little too buzzed to the point where nothing was fun anymore. Yeah, we fucked a ton and whatever, but we stopped having fun a long time ago. I kind of miss getting mad at you over stupid shit, like pokemon cards or something the way we used to as kids. When we were simple, ya know? How we wouldn't be getting eaten alive by the question of why? Now I kind of feel better, cause I know why. Life was stressful when we first started, and my depression spiraled with yours and we just got so filled with anger and emotions we couldn't explain where we pushed each other away then came back, drank a little, smoked a little, was toxic cause we could never love each other if we didn't love ourselves. Life is just full of random shit nobody can explain. Ain't it funny?'' Instead of the world caving in above them, it seemed to open up. Trevor opened the locked door that hid what their problems really were, and this could be huge if they didn't fuck it up.

''Mhm... guess it is.'' Jamie's apathy never was so fucking fake. Inside, he knows what he could've done to prevent those problems. Fixing himself instead of leaving Trevor the responsibility until the weights cracked his collarbones and made him relapse.

Not fucking up starts with what Trevor said; loving themselves first. That would mean leaving each other for a while, at least enough time to glue themselves back together. It's hard to pay attention to oneself when someone they love is out there dying because they couldn't bare the thought of being alone, much less the unexplainable emotions.

Maybe it would hurt a little less when they left, but for now, they had to stick to remembering the good times. The hickeys were in only places they could see. The cute dates they would go on when they were young and simple. Trevor settled into Jamie's space even more, breathing in his scent as they laid in the back of their truck. Hopefully, it would be enough.

Go ahead and share a bottle, boys.

They'll both be packed and ready to leave by the time it's drained.

[slut4sway]

anywherebound : chapter III

cheap booze and codeine pills ain’t worth all the losin’

nothin’ can come between us, damn a life worth choosin’

every time you come to town we wind up doin’ the same thing

gettin’ high and runnin’ around, blame you tend on placin’

🌅•••••••••••••••••••🍻

chapter III : hell in golden hours

notes : i apologize in advance. trigger cole pulling women’s hair but it’s ok cause i’m gay thing pls.

tw: drinking, drug use, one use of the f-slur, sexual harassment

5/26/23

8:49pm

trevor stirred in his sleep as jamie stroked his dull auburn flow. his silky hair felt so soft running between his fingers, as it all just seemed to spill out into jamie’s hands like it was mean to be there.

he gazed down at him with heavy eyes, dark circles forming from just watching the boy in his arms rest for hours. the day had already wasted away like always, just like every other day because of their lack of activity after being eliminated from the playoffs. summer was supposed to be a time to decompress when all it has done was put him on edge. after every detox he just relapsed; but he never really put effort into trying to stop, like everyone says.

but everyone is wrong.

if he could put a label on his emotions instead of screaming that he’s trying, trying really damn hard maybe things would clear up.

that’s a maybe though.

being numb until he can’t feel what’s wrong anymore, or because too much was wrong he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

for one, he wasn’t good enough for himself. nothing he did would ever be enough, not even for trevor who always came running back to him after all he had done was hurt him.

he wasn’t some connor bedard, or some cale makar defenseman. but he was something. something enough. he didn’t have the talent rushing through his veins like they did; and no matter how hard he worked and after everyone telling him he’s doing just fine, he wasn’t ever enough for himself.

all the ‘don’t be so harsh to yourself’ and the ‘you’re doing great, james’ didn’t change a damn thing. it was like an empty void every time he messed up, or let someone get past him. but trevor filled that void. anytime they would play, they just seemed to *flow. *passes connected. nasty dekes. great plays. goals. assists. all of it.

his shoulder injury though, took that all away from him. every rare win, every after party, even coming home and fucking their pain away after a loss; that was gone too. replaced by getting a little too stoned or a little too drunk with the occasional pill-popping and coke-snorting. cause what else was he supposed to do while trevor was out making a name for himself? out there scoring goals? out there racking up points? out there living? out there overshadowing jamie? what was jamie without trevor?

it was always ‘hey z!’, but never a ‘hey jim!’. hell, he was on the cover of nhl 23. *everyone always looked at *trevor, first. never jamie. talk about being the second choice.

if he could just rip trevor’s heart out, but kiss his pain away; he would. if he could shut his annoying ass up, then tell him he loves his voice; he would. if he could say he hates him, then crawl back for more; he would.

if trevor could listen to jamie self-depreciate himself, then paint him like one of his french girls; he would. if trevor could watch jamie fall apart, then put him back together; he would. if trevor had the poetic wisdom deep in him to write songs jamie would never hear; he would.

would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.

when, though? why, though?

the lighter-haired boys eyelashes fluttered open, meeting the gaze of the raven-headed boy holding him. jamie wiped some saliva from the corner of trevor’s mouth with his thumb affectionately.

“good morning.. evening really; love.” the younger boy rasped out, running his thumb over trevor’s glazed cheekbones. trevor nuzzled into his wrist, curling his legs into his own space while he let out a meaningless squeak of approval.

“jack and cole are here from the east coast, and the boys are hosting a bonfire party down at the beach. i kind of told them we’re going but.. i said we wouldn’t use.” because who wouldn’t go to california for the off season. jamie’s voice was soft and clear, as he ran his calloused fingers through trevor’s hair once again.

“..i mean why not? what’s the worse that could happen if we’re not.. you know.” trevor tilted his head. their obvious addiction and possible chance at sobriety wasn’t some hush-hush topic, and the way he said this was… weird.

“yeah, it’s at huntington beach i think.. so its maybe an hour away from here.” jamie recollected his thoughts, coming to the conclusion it was where they always hung out whenever jack and cole would come out west.

“start the truck, i’ll be down in a second. gonna clean myself up.” trevor briefed, pulling himself from the position he was laying on jamie’s chest.

•

1989 taylor swift blasting as they ripped down the empty freeways, windows down with trevor sticking his head out like a dog; and jamie smiling and barely keeping his eyes on the road with one hand on the wheel as he admired the golden retriever boy in the passenger seat. nothing screams summer like tearing down the highways at night in a sun burnt silverado. life was good. good enough, at that moment.

the backroads of rural california soon morphed into populated streets all flowing down to the coast line, an obvious column of smoke drifting up to the sky a good distance away. jamie turned down the music and pulled off the paved road onto the sand, about five yards away from the bonfire that lit up the western sky.

trevor hopped out the truck and was immediately greeted by sonny, mason, jack, and cole and some other unknown faces and some blonde women jamie recognized from the club or their games. he just watched the boy get all giddy crowded, while nobody even bothered to say ‘hi’. he just watched. not like it mattered, because social validation wasn’t something he relied on the way* pretty boy zegras* did; but it would be nice to have some.

he hopped out of the drivers side, his white crocs immediately filling with sand. jamie shoved the lanyard with his keys into the pocket of his shorts, trekking over through the slightly damp sand to some lawn chairs in front of the bonfire. it crackled and peacefully stood tall, the flame reaching up to the sky instead of straying out and lunging towards him like it felt like it would.

he sat down in a sunken red chair next to the cooler and a bucket of chilled liquor, catching a glimpse of everyone swarming trevor; until an unfamiliar blonde girl approached him.

“you’re not looking like one to follow the crowd.” she tapered off the sentence with the sound a girl makes, obviously trying to strike up a conversation with him. she was short, her skin was sun-kissed and warm, and her ash blonde hair didn’t match. the light from the fire glistened off her bejeweled nose ring, as some white powder fell from it as she spoke.

“mkay.” jamie responded with apathy. not like he had interest in anyone but trevor, even after last night. more so in love with him despite lingering in his shadow all the time.

“what? can i get you a drink or like.. a blunt or something to loosen’ you up?” she chirped, followed by a flirtatious giggle that complimented her drawn out slight southern accent. her blue eyes pierced into his soul, sinking her imaginary claws and fangs into his neck as she pestered him.

“no.”

“it’s not often i find a pretty boy like you hangin’ around with no woman.. so why won’t you just let me have a shot?” she batted her eyelashes, some water dripping off her curves and darkening her white bikini.

“please go.”

“cmon, what’s your name?”

“leave me be, please.” jamie kept his cool, but desperately tried to give an obvious hint. he turned his face away from her, hoping lack of attention would get her away.

“oh fuck.. and look at your jawline, baby!” the blonde exclaimed, running a finger with long white acrylics along the crease of his jawline.

“hands off me, please.” jamie swatted her hand away, visibly uncomfortable by the interaction. this girl has got to be coked up a little bit.

“don’t be a pussy, boy! you’re so beautiful, how could i keep my hands off you?” she shrieked, maybe drawing the attention of the pack of people still lingering by the truck. the woman ran her hands down his neck and around the tight fabric by his pecs.

jamie froze. his muscles tensed under her fleeting touch that unsettled him. he clenched his teeth and gripped onto his knees and the arm of the seat until he was white knuckled.

“HEY! get your god damn grimey paws off him, you bitch!” trevor barked at her, tripping through the crowd that follows behind him as he hastened to jamie.

“relax babe, i was just tryna get some dick. a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do!” she laughed, as she slurred the words she spoke.

trevor would’ve hightailed it if she wasn’t so close to the fire, as he grazed her shoulder while hurrying over to jamie.

“jimmy? you okay?” his voice ached with worry and guilt, like he knew why the encounter happened with his lack of attention towards jamie and more of it on his apostles.

“mhm. fine.” jamie released his hold on himself, hiding the emotion in his voice with an apathetic tone. all because trevor had to be engulfed in his followers.

cole, jack and sonny with a blunt in hand of course, and mason with a red solo cup of god knows what, all skipped over to jamie; way to read the room. they called his name with some wolf whistles that would have sounded a hell of a lot better if it weren’t always trevor first.

the rest of the ten or so unrecognized faces hung back, dispersing around the area. trevor gave him a look of apology, as jamie falsely accepted and made room for him on his lap. the blonde girl from before moved on to a group of boys who looked significantly younger than her; maybe 19 or so.

“fuckin’ cougar.” the raven-haired boy swore under his breath as he felt the comforting weight of trevor settle onto his thigh.

“i know jim.. i’m sorry.” trevor bit his lip, relaxing his back as he interlaced his fingers with jamie’s.

jamie fell silent. there wasn’t much he could say. or wanted to say. eventually the empty silence was filled by some of the boys playing an unknown drinking game; most likely a variation of spin the bottle in the far spot in the circle. trevor sprung up from jamie’s lap as if he wasn’t there, running over to see what they’re doing. not like he could keep trevor settled for more than 5 minutes anyway, more so with people around. sometimes he wishes trevor wasn’t an extrovert, and would give him the time of day though there were other people around.

the same blonde girl approached him again, and instead of fighting it he just relaxed and kind of shut down.

“changed your mind yet?” her southern charm was something alright, tilting her head as the corners of her lips lifted into a not-so-innocent grin.

“ah what the hell.” what better way to get trevor’s attention back than to talk to another girl?

“good boy!” she praised, running her hands through jamie’s hair as some salty seawater dripped. between his locks and maneuvered around each strand of hair. good boy. *that was what trevor called him when he was proud. it was trevor’s nickname and trevor’s epithet only, and hearing it coming from someone else’s mouth felt *wrong.

jamie smiled, patting down on his lap where trevor once sat. his smile was fake, though. he didn’t really want her. he wanted trevor. but all his efforts that night were like wrestling down a steer in some rodeo. the blonde girl dropped down into his space, as he wrapped a firm hand around her waist. she leaned over, lifting a bottle of limoncello and red, white, and berry smirnoff along with 2 solo cups from the cooler.

“i’m not-“ jamie caught himself mid sentence. making trevor jealous was one thing, but breaking a promise was another.

“i know you’d probably want a beer, but try it! it’s great” the girl spoke through the splashing of liquor she poured into both of the cups.

sure. just great. jamie had little to no self control when it came to alcohol so available, everything seemed to just turn off and he couldn’t resist anymore. he knew booze wasn’t worth upsetting trevor, but it was like he subconsciously didn’t have a choice. and the next thing he knew; the flavors of blue raspberry with notes of citrus was dancing on his tongue and rushing down his throat.

small sips occasionally turned into several refills. once he turned the switch on, he couldn’t turn it off. the blonde girls sing-songy laugh distorted and morphed into her whispering dirty phrases into his ear as his hands started to wander all over her body, gently tugging at the thin strings that tied together her bikini bottoms.

•

trevor turned his head to check back on jamie, only to seeing something he wishes he didn’t.

the world seemed to spin around him, as his limbs went weak. the smile quickly ran from his face, staring at jamie with a solo cup in hand and another hand on the blonde girls hip that straddled him in the lawn chair. the sand on he felt on his knees disappeared, and he felt like he was falling into a void of nothingness as his head spun.

jamie made eye contact with him. he knew what he was doing. like he knew the hurt he was causing.

trevor could see the intoxication from miles away; because he could tell his jamie from the one who yelled at him after he dumped out the liquor he bought when they went through phases of trying to heal.

“woah, woah, woah… z, you okay?” jack worried, immediately catching the back of his head and his shoulders before he hit the sand. trevor shivered, his anxiety coursing through him at such a speed he could feel it. his eyes were visibly in shock, as he lost control of his body. jack passed off the shrinking blunt to sonny, who quickly snuffed it in the sand. mason crawled over next to him, freaking the fuck out and rambling trevor couldn’t make out to be words while another unknown face held his forearm for support; grazing his fresh scars that caused him to flinch.

“what the fuck..? look at jamie and that stupid bitch over there!” cole barked, like he seemed to so obviously know what sent trevor into shock. he scrambled to his feet along with sonny, sprinting over to jamie to investigate what bullshit he pulled this time.

jack whispered affirmations, along the lines of ‘it’s okay trev, i’m here bud’ and ‘stay with me’ or ‘i got you’; but it’s not like trevor could make out any of what he was saying. jack lifted them both to their feet, as he supported him with an arm around his shoulder. the slightly shorter boy staggered over to his truck with trevor glued to his side, barely being able to keep his footing. jack would’ve ripped open the tailgate if it weren’t for half his strength using one arm.

he hoisted trevor up into the bed of his and jamie’s pickup, lying his head to rest against the back windows.

“it’s alright z.. i’m here… i got you buddy” jack said breathlessly, as trevor slowly came back to his senses.

“why’d he.. the girl… he, he-“

“settle down, shhh” jack cooed, grounding him with a hand gently compressing his chest.

trevor choked up some broken cries, tears streaming from his face. his cool toned auburn hair fell over his forehead, as he sobbed into jacks shoulder.

“he said he wouldn’t do it again!” trevor wailed, breath hitching in his chest.

“i know baby, breathe..” his voice was warm and affectionate. for once that night trevor felt safe in someone’s arms other than jamie’s which would probably be choking him out right now.

•

the blonde girl screamed as cole ripped her from jamie. he tossed her off to the side like she was shit (not very different), her body hitting the ground as the grainy sand was disturbed.

“james what the hell? you said you weren’t drinking? you know what you did to trevor?” sonny snapped, landing a palm to jamie’s cheek with such force his jaw rattled a bit.

“i dunno… he was’n like payin’ tension to me cause he’s all..” jamie drunkenly misarticulated.

sonny and cole continued to yell at him, until a tall and noticeably bigger guy came up to them looking obviously irritated. he picked the blonde girl up, wiping the sand off her shoulders.

“the fuck did you guys do to my bitch?” he snarled, staring down jamie in the lawn chair that wasn’t mentally present; staring off into the stars hanging above the beach.

“your bitch was all over him.” coles stupid remarks could’ve gotten him into big trouble with this boy, but sonny held him back by the shoulders before cole could lunge at him.

mason soon hurried up to the scene, studying everyone’s body language before he decided to stay out of it and watch from the sidelines.

everyone was on something and the tensions were through the rough.

the sizeable dark haired boy swung at jamie, landing a hit near his temple, following with another blow to his mouth.

jamie should’ve passed out, but instead brought him to his feet as he striked the other boy with an uppercut. everyone was yelling and trying to pull them away, even the other people who weren’t there originally. everyone who tried eventually got caught in the crossfire and ended up walking away with a black eye.

“you’re a fag anyway, why are you all over her? huh?! wanna act all fucking tough?!” this just provoked jamie even more, as he threw drunken punches. once he got him off guard enough, jamie kicked the front of his knees enough where he heard a crack.

the other boy screamed in pain and agony, backing up while limping on one leg just to be tackled into the waves crashing against the shore. each rip-curl pounded down on him with such force, as jamie continued to batter him and knee him straight between his ribs while he held his head under water.

he never stopped until he saw the sea foam turn the same color as the steady red he was seeing.

“JAMES!”

“holy shit what did you do?”

mason yelled while sonny finally got a hold of a thrashing jamie and dragged him off of the bigger body curled up against himself and crying.

jamie just blankly stared up at the large number of people behind him.

horrified looks from everyone, all eyes were on him.

the cold rough waters sobered him up enough to be alert, but he could still feel the affects of his drunken state poking and prodding at him.

this was his fault. all of it. his insecurity caused him to make stupid choices with the intention to get trevor closer to him, when all it did was hurt both of them and the people around them. this isn’t what healthy relationships are like.

cole silently picked up up with shame, wiping blood from the corners of his mouth that trailed to jamie’s chin. everyone just stared. sonny and mason followed behind, looking back at all the disapproving stares from their failed party.

“you should probably.. um-“ cole suggested, biting his lip out of awkwardness.

“go home. i know.” the taller boy interrupted. what a damn let down. he said he was gonna try and stay sober for trevor but that’s gone to waste like every other empty promise he’s made.

jamie fucked up. again. what a hothead. but trevor would still be there to keep him warm even if that meant his whole life he would freeze. even behind all the dirty looks jamie would get; trevor would still say that dirty looks good on him.

•

jack stroked trevor’s hair as he whimpered in his arms, since he had no more tears left to cry. all the ache and tangled up emotions could be fixed by no other than jamie fucking drysdale, just after he is the reason he’s wrestling with himself. trevor could be feeling like a damn rebirth, but then when jamie stops laughing he loses all his worth. he could question it all at night in his bed, but he can’t take back any of the love he’s given.

“trev.” a raspy, broken voice called out from the dark nothingness of the beach.

trevor perked up at jamie’s voice, leaning over the sides of the truck bed to see him stagger-stanced with some flecks of blood around his face and a busted lip.

“you’re.. you’re not good to drive.” trevor’s voice was exhausted and heavy. quite obvious he wanted to avoid any further discussion. he shooed jack from the back of the vehicle, and he took the hint and hopped out with another ‘i love you’ look from his best friend.

jack walked over to sonny, cole, and mason and began to talk but all trevor could make out was his name.

“i’m real sorry.” jamie turned around as he said this, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat before any of them could answer.

this was gonna be a long drive home.

•

after a couple minutes of sitting in silence, everyone else returned to their place at the bonfire. the boy jamie had beat up was wrapped up in a blanket, and the blonde girl next to him massaging his upper thigh. they sure as hell were talking shit, because even cole looked uncomfortable. and normally he wouldn’t let anything slide and would call them out right away.

but what did it matter?

trevor finally sighed and pulled his extra pair of keys to the truck, lighting up the ignition. he pulled off the small sandy dunes that suspended the truck and drove up to the paved road onto the long way home. it wasn’t gonna be them tearing down the highways like before, rather just watching the mountains melt into the backroads that took them home to their rinky-dink rural town.

“why’d you do it?” jamie heard trevor break the silence, watching his hands work around the wheel as they pulled off the main road.

“i- like i… i don’t know. you were just with them and i wanted to get your attention by talking to that girl and, i- i fucked up and i don’t know what was going through my head. then that other guy came and well, he called me the f-slur so..” jamie trailed off.

“okay james. guess our promise wasn’t going through your head either.” the windows rolled down, but instead of the resisting wind pushing everything back it was the summer californian breeze. it wasn’t unforgiving and rough, rather comforting and gentle. trevor’s sanity was hanging on by a thread and he could send them barreling into a ditch if he wanted to, if he was like jamie.

“i know, and i’m sorry.” he could say he was sorry and how he was guilty all night until his lungs turned blue, however trevor would still find patience for him. somewhere in the dusk he was on his side. jamie was tiny but talky, and that didn’t always do him good.

“you make it really hard to love you.” his words stung like acid on jamie’s heart.

“but you still do.. right?” he questioned, looking over at trevor focus on the road with his left arm hanging out the window.

“i tried to hate you. but i cant. i don’t think i ever will.” trevor forced out these words, stifling an unsteady grandeur and some leftover tears that he barely could cry anymore.

“you’re too good to me. i don’t deserve you at all, trev” he whined as the tip of his nose grew pink and his mouth fell slightly agape, letting some suppressed sobs escape.

“that’s the problem, you think you don’t deserve something so you ruin it” trevor was right. jamie was right. trevor was too good to him. jamie didn’t deserve him. nevertheless, he couldn’t ever imagine his best friend with someone else. even if they hurt each other more than anything. some people say ‘just because you love each other doesn’t mean it’s mean to be’, but that’s a load of bullshit to trevor.

“but i couldn’t ever hate you; I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you would bleed yourself dry for me. i hate the way you drive my truck, hate it when you stare. i hate your eyes. i hate your big nose. i hate your perfectly dumb big smile. i hate the way you read my mind off the sole virtue of a simple look.”

jamie continued their revised version of the poem, referring to *10 things i hate about you. *they both knew it by heart, since they made it up drunk one night watching the old romcom one night.

“i hate the way you're always right, i hate it when you lie. i hate the way you make me laugh and i hate the way you make me cry.”

“i hate you're not around, and the fact that you called and you saw me like this. i hate you so much it makes me fucking sick to my stomach” trevor recited, proceeding with the back and forth of their cheesy cliche.

“but fully I hate the way I don't hate you”

“not even close”

“not even a little bit”

“not at all”

their words blended together in unison, even their cries and whines they finally released.

because no matter how much wrong they could do, they always came crawling back and begging for more.

[slut4sway]

i think we could do it if we tried

if only to say you're mine

sofia, know that you and i

shouldn’t feel like a crime

•

honey, i don’t want it to fade

there’s things that i know could get in the way

but, i don’t want to say goodbye

and i think that we could do it if we tried

🪫•••••••••••••••••••🩸

anywherebound

chapter II : bloody knuckled

notes : this was a very sensitive topic for me to write about and it took a lot to really go into a dark place to talk about my own sobriety and intergrate it into this. this may be one of the only fics i can really write genuinely because i pour my soul into this and it really helps me cope. currently 15 days sober and i hit the 2 week mark for the first time in a very long time yesterday!

tw : self harm

5/26/23

about 12 hours sober, but 1 week clean gone to waste. it was a never-ending cycle, trevor would be all go-fucking-lucky for a day; then mood swings would get the best of him and he’d relapse. genuinely, he did want to get better but every 7 days or so he found himself bleeding on the floor. but there was no emotion shown. he was either crying and bawling until he couldn’t breathe or just carving his skin apart with a stoic expression that was almost apathetic; and lacking emotion.

the blood had almost completely dried, the small drips were glazed with the morning light. trevor just stared down at himself and what he’d just done. maybe if he’d just gone back to his old habits and started punching walls again, his now pale skin wouldn’t be different shades and textures because of his scars. if he had just let himself go apeshit on the drywall like he did when jamie would piss him off; at 16 he could have bloody knuckles instead of blood running down his forearm. only sucker punching walls because of him then going out to ride bikes up in ontario around his neighborhood. climbing up on their spot; an old abandoned rehab center, 6 stories up just watching the sun crest westbound. behind all of the high rise buildings they could see them, in the orange. something in the orange told them maybe they were right for each other. because they pined for each other like nothing else.

the bedford sunsets were different though. westchester county was different. the old architecture and the trees gave it more of a homey feel for sure. hours before they would lie in the bed of trevor’s old f-150 or in some deforested field, he would be talking about jamie non stop to his mother. she would just listen, watch him swoon over the boy; leaning on the counter as he smiled with every word regarding jamie that came out of his mouth. how much loved him and how he wishes he could just tell jamie that; bringing that smile to a false linger. even mrs. zegras knew trevor really liked jamie, and that it was authentic.

“trevor baby..” jamie fought back tears, gawking at trevor slumped against the bed with blood dripping down his forearms the same way coke dripped off his nose the night before. his stomach dropped, gaping at trevor while he stumbled over from the window and came to his knees next to him.

trevor just stared at jamie with heavy eyes. there was nothing to be said. or nothing that was said. he was holding back as if his life depended on it, and now that he was sober he wishes he could just tell him how much he wishes he could just get better and maybe be able to love jamie the way he should’ve. the amount of anger and frustration built up came out in tears, like they always had.

“you were doing so good.. what happened?” his unsteady voice broke something inside trevor. he was asking such an obvious question, so irritating and apparent jamie knew; but didn’t want to admit.

“you wanna know what fucking happened jim?! you happened. it’s ever god damn night we go up to the roof and get faded, i cant stand it anymore because i know you don’t love me! it’s the same thing every week and you know what? i fucking hate you, because this is your fault and you know why this happens but you still ask as if you’re fucking clueless every time..” the older boy choked out his words, suffocating as his breath hitched in his chest every once in a while with tears falling from the corners of his eyes and bending around the curves of his grecian nose.

the ‘i fucking hate you’ really hit home for jamie in more ways than one. that told him all he needed to know about how trevor was feeling right now, and told him that he seriously fucked up. trevor was always so tolerant with him, but now it was unclear. did he really mean what he said now that he hit his breaking point?

jamie gave him an empty glance before he leaned over trevor and pulled the drawer open and taking out a gauze wrap and some tissues.

“i’m sorry trev.”

“how am i even supposed to know if you’re telling the truth? you always say that but then you do the same thing?”

“i really am, and z.. i know i mess up a lot but we both know it’s hard to like- stop or quit, feel me?” jamie affirmed, gently wiping the blood away from his arms. his words were truthful for once, and sweet, sweet, sober jamie was home.

“i’m tired. i’m so fucking exhausted. i’m so numb i don’t even know what’s wrong anymore. i need you but we’re..” he tapered off the sentence with the sound a fucked up kid makes. trevor let jamie wrap his arm with the sterile gauze; with deep devotion and affection that felt so fake yet so real. it was frustrating. complicated. because love is patient, and love is kind. it shouldn’t make someone lose their mind. there’s got to be more to this than being pissed off all the damn time.

“it’s like every therapist i go to doesn’t work.” trevor shifted the topic. he doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to say that him and jamie were toxic.

“i know baby. i know.” the way jamie called him baby like when they were just wild-haired messed up kids brought him back. back to the times when they smelled like liquor, spirits, and weed. it should be disgusting, but when jamie said he’d give anything to be near it; that was enough. he finished wrapping trevor’s arm after what seemed like an eternity, feeling him melt into his arms while trevor’s messy curls fell in sync with his motion.

“and like.. we say it’s the last time every night but it’s not..? i don’t want it to be the last time, i cant leave you. i just cant, and like i wanna stop using and drinking and i wanna stay clean, but like i cant?” his focus shifted again. the amount of thoughts running through his head rushed through his entire body that was just a soulless entity.

“i.. i cant leave you either trev. i’ll try baby, i swear i will.” jamie cooed as trevor rested the side of his head on jamie’s chest with his legs sprawled out beside him.

that was an empty promise though. because it’s not easy like that. cause someone can’t just pack up and leave to some foreign country, and quitting substances and bad habits was their foreign land. none of that shit is easy. loving each other was hard enough; and when they can’t even feel real without having alcohol coursing through their veins it was just more difficult.

“can we both.. try and stay clean and sober for a week?” this small proposal from trevor was a big step for them, hence relying on artificially produced dopamine to not feel like they’re about to die any time they’re one day off and having withdrawals.

they’ve been drowning in each other for a long time, and it wasn’t fun anymore. neither of them were happy with what they had; no matter how much they put on a false front or convinced themselves they did. getting high was supposed to be fun.

this wasn’t fun.

“it’s gonna be one step forward and three steps back, you know? so can we not give up right away?” another empty fucking promise. trevor took a deep, shaky breath as he said this. his open wounds singed every second.

“promise.” jamie knew. he knew that it wouldn’t happen right away. he knew even if it did happen and they made it to one week, they’d be lucky.

•

jamie awoke to trevor gently snoring in his arms, the reddened gauze turning a light toffee color as the blood dried. sleeping off the hangover he ignored was not the move. trevor’s phone vibrated, screen lighting up to a notification from their groupchat.

cloud 9 ☁️😵‍💫

jack⁉️: bonfire party tn down at the coast bring what u want

sonny🙌: k im bringing weed what strain do u guys want

i have wedding cake and northern lights on me rn

jack⁉️: no sunset sherbert or cookies?

sonny🙌: no sorry

colesy🫃: white runtz

jack⁉️: cole u don’t smoke what are you talking about dawg 💀

colesy🫃: yes

sonny🙌: bye whos baby is this 😭😭😭

mctavish™️: HELP ME

mctavish™️: told some of the hoes some r coming

colesy🫃: i have malibu

sonny🙌: cole that’s so gay

colesy🫃: 🥺🤭🩻🪅🚂😵‍💫‼️😵‍💫🤤😇😧™️🎸📭™️🙌🎉😧🤭🚂🪅🎸😵‍💫🩻🫃🩸🚂™️🩻☁️😨😇⁉️⁉️🫃💌🪅🎸🤤😵‍💫🎉😇😇☁️🩻😰😇😧🚂

mctavish™️: someone come get their child he got out the cage

colesy🫃: okok sorry i’ll bring red white blue smirnoff and we can mix it w monticello it’s so good

jack⁉️: do u mean limoncello 🧍‍♂️

colesy🫃 : same thing

notifications popped up one after another, overlapping each other. jamie picked up his phone and unlocked it, responding back:

we’re trying to stay sober. we’ll come but we aren’t using. trevor is asleep this is jim btw

jack⁉️: ok yea that’s fine good luck boys

sonny🙌: 💪💪

colesy🫃: ok love u guys

mctavish™️: good job, proud of you guys

thanks.

Jamie shut off Trevor’s phone, placing it face down where it was before. Hopefully, they can fulfill their promise.

Maybe Trevor won’t relapse or go bloody-knuckled in the afterglow of the party.

[slut4sway]

Back before these calloused hands and all this work

we used to sit up at the flats.

Acting like we’d live forever,

getting high, and skipping class.

Yeah, I’d reckon we were heathens,

but in her eyes we were saints.

🪴••••••••••••••••••🏔️

They're anywherebound.

All they were worried about was losing each other. And yes, they were nuisances. Young, dumb, loud little stoners. Skipped school to stay up and watch the sunrise on the rooftops, or just to escape; really. Then came the NHL. The big league. Bright lights. Whatever someone may call it. Fiending for drugs, alcohol, and each other; those young boys certainly were heathens. The only way they knew to cope with the stress was dragging the blade across their skin until all they saw was steady red running down their bodies, or the walls and their surroundings blending into one as they collapsed on the bathroom floors. Alternatively, getting buzzed until they can’t feel shit, not even the thoughts that crowded each inch of them. They were each other's escape until escaping and running your problems just made everything worse. They hated the way they longed for the pain. They hated the way they needed each other but were like a lit match and gasoline. They hated the way no matter what they did they couldn’t be each other's, healthy and strong as they should be. Constantly on the run from themselves, they indulged in bad habits to deal with it. Every break they got they would drive up into the mountains, on the road that seemed to melt into them and recover. That only lasted so long. It’s only possible to take a worthless poor boy from the flats and make him mean something so much.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / Chapter VI: shot of holy water

You grow so fond of things meant to be free

What if letting go is what's killing me?

I've never felt this beat down before

Soon as I'm back up I'm coming back for more

And I hope you find whatever it is you need

Leave it behind, the wreckage of you and me

And I pray you go back to Oklahoma

So I can head back home and be the

Man that's never known ya

•

tw : mentioned drug abuse, mentioned alcoholism. mentioned self harm

🛻•••••••••••••••••••🏞️

trevor’s journal entry : i love you but you can go to hell. you probably like it better there anyway. with all those guys who thought they could have me, and all the hell you've put me through; the core of the earth would finally lay them down. it's pretty sure to say i'm tired of you.

6/4/23

2:12pm

They had good times yeah, but where will they go when the weed is all smoked? Where will they go if the pills run out? Where will they go when there's no more room on their skin for the blade and the ladders of scars? Where will they go when the liquor is all empty? Where will they be when the water rushes through? Where will they be when the white lines and little lies get ahold of them? Where would they go if they didn't pack up and leave?

If they chose to stay, maybe they'd be numb for a couple more days; but in the end, it always comes crashing down and they know they both can cause a pretty ugly wreck. For fuck's sake, Trevor is tired and dripping wet while he's doubled over on his hands and knees trying to breathe. He broke every part of him to hold Jamie through the shakes, but it's hard to keep afloat with his best friend... boyfriend..? It's hard to keep his head above the water when Jamie won't even swim. He's taking in all his share of water at godspeed. How could he even get to shore with Jamie if he won't drop him in the murky water and leave?

His heart was heavy on games and bullshit, especially the ones Jamie played; but he only has one and it's been shattered into a trillion pieces already. Why would he continue to throw it around? He finally brought up the strength to go, and now that his head is clearing up it's made it easier to realize. The haze no longer protected him from the truth. It wasn't a safe little corner he could sidestep into and avoid his problems anymore. For once in his life, Trevor was exposed. Now he's on the hunt for himself, just to chase his running soul down and catch it, to keep it right where it belongs.

No more blaming himself. Jamie was to blame. Jamie fucking Drysdale. It was partially him who dragged himself down with Jamie, and there was no denying that. He could have cut and run with the wind the second he had a doubt, but he didn't. Why? The reason is still something else he's on the hunt for.

He's loved drowning in Jamie for his entire life, but now he couldn't breathe. All the coke-talk was false and deceiving, and convinced him enough to stay through everything. Most definitely, it's a long and hateful road. Finally, he's gotten the feeling he needs to get his ass up and get home back to his warm bed to melt the frost Jamie froze over him.

Isn't this what Trevor wanted? To get better? To break the cycle? Sometimes he should be careful what he should wish for, cause now he's staring death right in the face.

Where would this take him? It's unclear. Would he be six feet under with his obituary reading about how he was such a bright soul and didn't ever deserve to feel the need to cut his life so short?

Whatever they did, it was still the same. It didn't matter how they did it; because they just hurt themselves. Drink, slice, burn, cut, stab, slash, rip, snort, smoke, inject, or even fuck until they can't feel anything; it's the same. Exact. Thing. Self-harm. The internalized abuse they felt from one another was just released with endorphins every time they did these things, and guess it just gave them a feeling of release. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Everything was just an ocean. The cloudy depths of the Pacific, to be exact. No Hawaiian vacation sun, no California breeze, no west-coast summer; just clouds of acid rain which stung them every day when they finally found peace. It's hard to trust something ever gets better, since when it does it always is just a false sense of security that is deceiving and leads a person to become vulnerable for the Devil to come up and ruin them one more time.

Only a shot of holy water could fix that.

Instead of a shot of whiskey.

Jamie... he's.. well, Jamie. He wants so much, but mostly the boys he can't have. Boys full of longing and unrepaired hearts, boys who want him but he can't be good enough for them. In more ways than one, he's both types. From a different perspective, Trevor is the one who he wants but will never be good enough for him.

Jamie wants one boy, though. That's the one he would never get back.

And then there he was. The love of his life standing in front of him, bags packed and keys in hand.

It was he who suggested Trevor leave, so now why does he wanna take it all back?

''Don't you wish you could go back.. sometimes?'' Jamie sighed, his voice dripping like honey and his words held the weight and gravity to drag them both down to the floor and wind up a crying heap. Maybe, or maybe not.

''Mhm. A lot.'' Trying to remember what they were, Trevor just wishes he could go back home. Home used to be Jamie. But now home was just a house out east. Home was now a place away from home. Home was now a place where he could escape the stinging feeling of being in his presence, needing to leave to numb the pain again.

Every day was just another meaningless chore, and every night is just another nightingale song being belted out into the breeze. Just trying to remember where their bed wasn't pins and needles, and they were leaning on a tailgate and looking up at the stars. The sky is falling, and so the stars are coming down with it. Hopefully coming down from another high later was a way to silence the Devil weeping out to him, and maybe that high would come from a shot of holy water mixed with bitter liquor. He was a good guy, in the light of 8 years ago. Here, he's trying to remember who he was. And other times he was just trying to remember his name.

''I don't want you.. to leave. Please don't. I take it back, I take it all back!'' Jamie's eyes grew glassy with tears, and the hurt in his voice felt like death by a thousand cuts to Trevor.

''...I know, and- I don't want to either.''

''But what you said that one night was right, and it's the truth I don't wanna hear. Sure is the truth, though.'' Trevor held a straight face, even though he was burning out inside; ready to snuff and collapse like ash falling from a stick of incense.

Oh, how he could wish he could be breathing in sage and the calming herbs right now.

''Nobody could love you more than me. R-remember that for me?'' The boy's dark, messy tips of his hair grew damp from his tears. as Trevor stood in front of him in the doorway, burdened with the weight of his belongings and the weight of the moment.

''Yeah, James. I know. Don't need to remind me.'' The older boy's solemn tone killed Jamie even more but sedated him enough from the thought of Trevor knowing to be able to keep himself standing.

It takes a lot to know what someone's heart really needs, and even more to realize that love isn't what it's cut out to be. They'd been fighting for each other and each other for so long, so it would really suck to let it all go. Yet it's better to let it lie than hurt each other. It's getting hard now, so why won't they just stay and try to fix it? Besides, they could just say their ''I love you's'' until the leaving leaves.

If the leaving doesn't leave, they'll just make more promises they can't keep.

As always.

''God, I wish I could just like.. make it make sense to you that all this shit goin' on in my head- it makes it so hard I can't speak!'' His tears barely subsided as he said this, while Trevor just listened and sighed; seemingly unfazed.

''I know you try to be better, but it's hard to stay when we're yelling, ya know? And even now I just gotta walk away-''

''Leave knowing I'll love you more than you could ever know'' Jamie interrupted, crying as he collapsed into Trevor for what felt like the last time.

Trevor could act indifferent, cause he doesn't want to leave; though he needs to. Jamie even suggested it, so why is he crying? The truth is that truth hurts.

Truth be told, Trevor's fucking tired of it all. Tired of leaving and coming back, tired of the cycle, tired of the mental illness, tired of all the hurt, and most of all tired of himself. He could go anywhere in the world but he'd never escape the one always with him. At the end of the day, he's the goddamn devil in both of their lives. Leaving is the only way to exorcise him from his and Jamie's life since Jamie makes it hard to love himself because Jamie is hard to love.

''I'll always be yours, Jim.''

And that was the last of them. The wreckage was left behind him, as he gave him a final kiss and walked out of his life with no hesitation. For once in his life, the roles were reversed and he wasn't the one being hurt by leaving. Not showing it, at least.

That final, longing kiss. It sealed his words. Jamie was still on his hands and knees sobbing so hard he couldn't breathe, and Trevor was starting up his 22' fastback and loading up all his stuff.

Jamie's truck would look oh so lonely without Trevor's car.

The sun was still shining down, and boiling the inside of the car, but Jamie felt like the whole world had just gone pitch black and silent.

He was well on his way of watching the roads melt into the mountains like he and Jamie always loved.

•

He was lying on the floor, but he couldn't scream. Technically, he could; but his lungs were so compressed and overworked by his crying it wouldn't be loud enough for anyone to hear and come to his rescue. Besides, Trevor already resigned from his job of being Jamie's lifeline.

Turning into all the things that someone's running from is a different kind of pain, and being left for it is just like another shot to the heart while they're down. Trevor could have talked more shit than any boy badmouthing Jamie ever would about how they're fucked up for leaving him at his worse, but now he was driving in silence away from him.

Couldn't Trevor take it slow as he left him? It already felt like ripping off a bandaid with a prolonged stinging sensation after, be that as it may even hanging onto every last molecule he had of Trevor would hurt less. He already missed the way the floor creaked when he quietly shuffled from their bed to the roof. Now that feeling was filled by missing him already and seeing steady red he could not ever dull.

One thing he's quickly learned the hard way is that Trevor is a hellspawn who burned him until he couldn't feel the pain anymore and that nothing could kill him slower than letting that sweet son of a bitch go. Holy water is all he needs to exorcise him, so he can get back up and act like he's never known him.

All he needs is a shot of holy water.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / chapter XI : pure gasoline

And you wanna scream Don't call me "kid" Don't call me "baby" Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me You showed me colors You know I can't see with anyone else

Don't call me "kid" Don't call me "baby" Look at this idiotic fool that you made me You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else

And you know damn well For you, I would ruin myself A million little times

🤍•••••••••••••••••••🪩

6/5/23

2:03 pm

Jamie lay there, sprawled across Mason's chiseled body. He was a hollow, shell of a man that was weightless compared to the fullness of Mason. Mason felt full of all the characteristics an angel would have. They were both sweaty and drenched with the guilt of something wrong that felt so right. Mason came to check up on him now he was under him.

''Jamie?'' Mason whispered into his ear, slightly tilting his head to reach his ear. He left behind soft kisses on the cartilage of his upper ear.

''Mhm..?'' Jamie was still coming down from being geeked off a line, so he'd just rested his head on Mason's shoulder with his eyes wide open and the occasional 'tweaker twitch'.

Trevor would call it that whenever they both came down from a high together, their bodies would give short jolts.

''I was kind of thinking maybe you should like.. stay at my place for the night? Just cause like, I'm worried about you, dude.'' Mason's shy proposal was enough to entice Jamie enough.

''I mean, alright.''

''No drugs, kay? Just weed. No drinking either.'' He looked at Jamie, not expecting to get any eye contact.

''Sure, 'mean it's your house,'' Jamie said this quite hesitantly, but he really is not the type to be rude like that.

''I'll get all your necessary stuff like... I dunno your toothbrush? What else is there?'' Mason's warm tone brought comfort to Jamie, despite not saying anything in particular to set him off like that.

''Yeah man, just uh.. my meds and shit, yaknow?'' Jamie muttered.

''I gotchu, if you wanna get yourself ready and hop in the car go ahead.'' His brown eyes were soft and welcoming. Jamie could just dive into them and never come up for air.

''Mhm. Yeah.''

•••••••••••••••••••

A couple minutes had passed already.

Jamie lay face up on the couch, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as he heard Mason shuffling around in the background. His presence was like ambient noise, but when he made himself obvious it was like the angels were calling to him.

The small weight of his phone in his pocket comforted him.

It felt like Trevor's hand on his lap. Or Mason's. He couldn't really pinpoint it.

Apart from fidgeting with his hands, the lingering thought of something so minuscule and irrelevant ran a marathon around his mind.

How the fuck do you call a guy whose dick you were just on 'man' or 'bro' or any of that hetero lingo.

•••••••••••••••••••

Mason eventually came down with Jamie's toiletries, charger, and a fresh pair of clothes draping over his tanned arms and a bottle of pills in his hand.

''Ready?'' Mason said, in an uplifting tone.

Jamie gave a hesitant nod and dragged his heavy, lethargic self off the couch and trailing behind Mason to the door.

The hot, southern Californian sun beat down on his face. Though harsh feeling, Jamie could stare as it hit Mason's face like beams sent down by Jesus. Soon after daydreaming, Jamie looked back a bit and saw Mason shutting the door.

Along the path, there was a roach left over from a joint. He could tell Trevor could have left it at some point. The filter portion was slightly gnawed off. He tended to do that when he was anxious.

Jamie didn't pay much mind.

Maybe he was healing.

The trek to the car down the long driveway seemed endless, as Jamie found himself climbing into the passenger seat of Mason's shiny 2020 Cadillac DeVille. Inside the car, it was stuffy but in a comfortable way. He felt the vibration of the car start up while Mason pulled out of his driveway down onto the highway.

•••••••••••••••••••

Under the embrace of the golden Californian sun, a sleek Cadillac gracefully cruised through the picturesque countryside of Southern California. The terrain unfolded before it like an ever-changing tapestry, with the plush leather seats giving both Jamie and Mason some ever-needed comfort.

The car traversed winding country roads that cut through fields of golden wheat, their swaying stalks shimmering like waves in the breeze. To the horizon, the imposing silhouette of rugged mountains stood sentinel, their peaks kissed by wisps of white clouds. A symphony of scents filled the air—earthy soil, the sweet fragrance of wildflowers, and the distant aroma of citrus groves.

Beneath the DeVille's hood, the V8 engine purred with restrained strength, effortlessly navigating the curves and undulations of the countryside. Mason's hands rested on the steering wheel, but it seemed as though the coupe possessed an innate connection to the burnt asphalt, guiding itself along the winding path.

Quaint farmhouses and rustic barns dotted the countryside, each telling a story of the hardworking people who called this serene landscape home. Tall eucalyptus trees lined the road, casting dappled shadows on rolling fields of dead grass leading to some foothills. It looked fairly out of place; such a clean, perfect car driving through the humble rural area carrying one of the most angry, confused, dirty, fucked up man in the area.

Said man is Jamie.

•••••••••••••••••••

Amidst the serene landscapes of SoCal, a secluded home stood as a testament to a love that had slowly smoldered and ignited. Jamie and Mason's gaze connected at a point of the gorgeous house in front of them.

Jamie, with his overgrown hair and eyes that held a thousand unspoken words, and with his spirit as wild as the surrounding canyons. Mason, his counterpart, possessed the usual gentle grace that could soothe even the most restless of hearts.

The sun bathed them in its warm embrace. The wind tousled their hair while the windows rolled down.

Approaching the house, its terracotta walls seemed to absorb the golden rays of the sun, blending seamlessly with the landscape. Tall cacti stood sentinel, welcoming them with ancient wisdom. Birds sang, their melodies serenading their arrival, as if nature itself rejoiced in their union. Everything was so much more different from Jamie's mock trap house where he did nothing but cry, get high, and eventually almost end up self-destructing

The house, a blend of rustic charm and modern elegance, perched on the edge of a canyon. Arched windows framed endless vistas. A stone path led them to the front door, where a wrought-iron knocker awaited their touch. Jamie's step was present yet barely, and Mason's was bright and assertive. He adjusted Jamie's belongings in his arms as he almost dropped them all while climbing out of the car.

With fingers fleeting, holding each other's wrists, Jamie and Mason entered a world that felt like a dream. Sunlight bathed the stone floors in warmth, and the air carried the soothing scent of lavender.

In the heart of the home, they enter a living room adorned with an eclectic mix of furniture, each piece holding memories of shared moments. A shelf of photographs captured majestic animals among the plains. In one corner, a grand piano seemed to echo the faint music of their hearts.

''Just go have a look around, i'll start the hot water for you if you wanna go take a bath. I'll be setting it up down the hall if you need me.'' Jamie didn't even have to look and he could hear the smile in Mason's voice.

He ignored Mason, but he felt like he's said and done enough to him for now.

As he explored, he was drawn to French doors opening onto a stone terrace. From there, the breathtaking panorama of the canyon stretched out before him, a testament to the grandeur of nature.

In that timeless moment, as the sun started to shine more intensely, Jamie felt the depth of how Mason's house reflected him as a person. This secluded home had become a sanctuary for him, where every glance and shared breath added to the slow-burning fire that had ignited between them. Seconds turned into minutes, as they went on for what seemed like hours until he heard Mason call his name from the archway.

''Likin' the balcony, yeah James?'' Mason called as his voice traveled past Jamie and around him, enveloping him with the feeling of belonging. He displayed a friendly smirk on his face, just killing Jamie slowly more than he already was.

For the first time in a long time, Jamie cracked a slight smile.

Mason's energy radiated around him, contagious to Jamie.

Jamie gave a gentle nod of approval as an unexplainable force pulled him into Mason's arms. He wrapped his own around Mason, leaning his head on his shoulder.

''Shower's all ready for you, even left some of my clothes for you to borrow.. or take if you really wanted.''

''Noticed some of yours weren't in the best of shape for you to be comfortable in...''

Jamie's smile faded. Mason was right. His clothes weren't in great shape because he could hardly take care of himself, let alone get any clothes that weren't old, oversized, pilled, and itchy beyond belief.

He gave a gentle kiss on Mason's cheeked, which made him jump but settle into it rather quick. He said nothing as he made his way to the bathroom.

•••••••••••••••••••

Mason's bathroom was a haven of freshness, a sanctuary where Jamie could escape the cares of the world and indulge in a moment of rejuvenation. The soft, muted color palette created an atmosphere of tranquility, with pale blue walls and white tiles that gleamed in the gentle illumination of recessed LED lights overhead.

A large, frameless mirror stretched across one wall, reflecting the pristine simplicity of the room. Its polished surface seemed to amplify the sense of space, making the bathroom feel even more inviting. Beneath the mirror, a sleek, modern vanity boasted a pristine marble countertop adorned with carefully arranged toiletries belonging to Jamie, a testament of Mason's attention to detail.

The centerpiece of the room was a luxurious bathtub, a freestanding vessel of sculpted porcelain that invited relaxation. A chrome faucet and handheld showerhead stood ready for use, promising a soothing cascade of water at the perfect temperature. Water was blowing off a bit of steam as it fell from the showerhead splashing onto the pool of crystal clear water. Nearby, a plush bathmat in a shade of pale gray added a touch of warmth to the cool, pristine atmosphere.

On one wall, a glass-enclosed shower with gleaming chrome fixtures awaited its next occupant. The pristine white tiles within the shower glistened with cleanliness, and a built-in niche held an array of bath products, neatly organized and ready to be used. A rainfall showerhead promised a refreshing cascade of water, completing the spa-like experience.

In one corner, a row of fluffy white towels hung from a sleek towel rack, their softness an invitation to wrap Jamie in comfort after a refreshing shower or bath. A small potted plant on a shelf added a touch of greenery to the room, bringing a hint of the outdoors inside.

The bathroom exuded an aura of serenity and cleanliness, a place where the cares of the day could be washed away in a refreshing and inviting environment. Sitting on top of the toilet lid was a pair of fleece lined grey sweats, clean boxers and socks, as well as one of Mason's crewnecks with an embroidered Champion logo.

Jamie took a gaze around before he rid himself of his sweaty, dirty clothes and left them in a laundry basket along with Mason's dirty clothes.

It was like Jamie was meant to be there. Mason had made it feel like it was his house, too. After not having a place in the world, a place where he could be vulnerable felt amazing.

He stepped into the water, lowering himself into the bath. Some hot water still trickled down until it led up to mid-waist height. Jamie obviously knew how to bathe, but it was like he hadn't in a while; at least properly. It was always a quick rinse-and-go. Did he ever have a reason to care? The only time he would go out was to go buy more drugs. Trevor did most of the going out for groceries and various relevant jobs. It was just more of a Trevor task.

Feeling his own body was unfamiliar like the one he was in was disconnected from his head. He rubbed a new bar of soap on himself. When he went to deeply lather it into his skin it felt wrong. He was never one to care about his body, much less even see it as part of him.

After rinsing all the soap off himself, he eventually soaked his hair with the showerhead and massaged shampoo and conditioner into his hair and scalp.

Eventually rinsing out the shampoo and conditioner, something felt wrong.

Jamie reclined in the bathtub, surrounded by the soothing warmth of the water. Steam billowed through the bathroom, creating a hazy atmosphere. His eyes were half-closed, and his body was submerged in the deep, relaxing bath. The dimly lit room provided a sense of serenity, the harsh fluorescent lights above the mirror remaining untouched.

Unbeknownst to Mason, Jamie had been struggling with sinus issues for a while, a consequence of his raging coke habit that he always regretted. As he leaned back against the tub, he felt a familiar tingling sensation at the bridge of his nose, a harbinger of yet another nosebleed.

With slow, deliberate movements, Jamie reached for a nearby washcloth, his fingers trembling slightly with anxiety. The water in the tub had turned pink, and he knew he needed to act quickly to avoid a mess. Pressing the washcloth against his nose, he leaned forward, trying to contain the flow.

The warm water now seemed to mock him, its soothing embrace disrupted by the crimson rivulets that flowed from his nose. His breathing became shallow, a mixture of frustration and fear.

Outside the bathroom, Mason's footsteps echoed softly as he approached the door, concern etched across his face. He had sensed something was amiss, and now he knew Jamie needed him.

"Jamie, are you okay in there?" Mason's voice carried a blend of worry and compassion.

Jamie, struggling to speak through the cloth pressed to his nose, managed a feeble, "I lowkey need help. Okay, maybe not so lowkey''

Without hesitation, Mason pushed open the bathroom door and entered the steam-filled room, his gaze locking onto Jamie's troubled expression. The sight of his partner in distress spurred him to immediate action.

Kneeling beside the bathtub, Mason reached for a clean towel and gently lifted Jamie's head. He used the towel to catch the trickling blood, his touch gentle yet resolute. The bathroom was filled with a palpable tension, but also an unspoken understanding and love that bound these two souls together.

"We'll take care of this, Jim, I'm right here." Mason assured, his voice unwavering. He continued to support Jamie, offering solace and reassurance in the face of vulnerability.

Mason remained steadfast by Jamie's side as the nosebleed slowly subsided. With the gentlest touch, he continued to hold the towel against Jamie's nose, catching the last crimson droplets that trickled down. The bathroom was a sanctuary of warmth and concern, the haze of steam now tinged with a sense of relief.

Gradually, the flow of blood began to ebb, and Jamie's breathing steadied. He gave Mason a grateful, albeit weak, smile, their eyes locking in a silent exchange of love and reassurance. Mason, knowing Jamie was still feeling vulnerable, spoke softly, "You're doing great, Jamie. It's almost over."

With Mason's support, Jamie carefully leaned forward, allowing the last traces of the nosebleed to be absorbed by the towel. Mason then set the blood-soaked cloth aside and fetched a fresh, warm washcloth to clean Jamie's face. He gently dabbed away the remnants of blood, his touch tender and reassuring.

Once Jamie felt composed enough, Mason reached for the faucet and began to run lukewarm water into the tub. He helped Jamie to his feet, steadying him as he stepped out of the bath. The water cascaded off Jamie's body, carrying away the remnants of the ordeal.

Mason fetched a soft, fluffy towel and wrapped it around Jamie, enveloping him in its warmth. He began to gently pat Jamie's skin dry, his motions slow and deliberate, radiating a deep sense of care and devotion. Jamie closed his eyes, allowing himself to be cocooned in Mason's love and support.

With the drying complete, Mason led Jamie to the bedroom, where fresh clothes were laid out with meticulous care. Mason helped Jamie into his crewneck, as well as slipping his legs through the boxers and sweats. Jamie found the strength to put on his own socks. Mason's fingers moved with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

As they sat side by side on the edge of the bed, Jamie looked into Mason's eyes, a profound gratitude filling his heart. Words seemed insufficient, so he simply reached out and held Mason's hand, their fingers entwined in a silent promise of unwavering love and support.

Mason smiled warmly, his love for Jamie shining through in that simple gesture. He whispered, "It's all gonna be okay. Promise you.''

•••••••••••••••••••

After the ordeal with the nosebleed, Jamie found peacein the soft, welcoming embrace of Mason's bed. Its warmth and faint vanilla bean scent enveloped him, creating a haven of respite from life's troubles.

As he lay there, his senses slowly regaining their equilibrium, Jamie heard the gentle sounds of Mason moving about in the adjacent room. He knew Mason was pouring a glass of cold water, a small act of care that meant the world to him.

Moments later, Mason returned, a chilled glass of water in hand. He approached the bed and set the glass on the nightstand before joining Jamie beneath the covers. The bed dipped as Mason settled beside him, their bodies close but not crowded.

Mason's presence was a balm to Jamie's soul, a reminder that he was never alone in his struggles. With a loving smile, Mason reached for the glass and offered it to Jamie, who gratefully took a sip of the cool water. It was refreshing, both physically and emotionally, washing away the residual tension from the earlier ordeal.

Setting the glass aside, Jamie turned to face Mason, their eyes locking in an unspoken understanding. No words were needed in this intimate moment. Jamie extended his arm, inviting Mason to draw closer, and Mason wrapped his arms around Jamie, their bodies molding together in a perfect fit.

They lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the rhythm of their breaths syncing in the quiet of the room. The cares of the world seemed to melt away as they basked in the warmth of their connection. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a sanctuary where they could find solace and strength in each other's presence.

As they lay there, Jamie couldn't help but smile, his heart filled with gratitude for the unwavering love and support that Mason had shown him. In the embrace of their quietly shared love, they found comfort, and the world outside seemed to fade into insignificance.

There were still a few things on Jamie's crowded.

One being how he went from being ''just homies'' with Mason to treating each other like new romantics. Hey, they always say those types are the best people in life to be.

The final one being how he felt normal for once, with someone other than Trevor. Even though being with Mason was different, their situationship didn't carry the same love-hate feeling Jamie always lived alongside. Trevor taught him a secret language only they could speak. He showed him colors only their eyes could see.

Even being the mess he is, and the one Trevor contributed greatly to, there was nowhere he'd rather be than be with the man who fed the flame a million little times.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / chapter X : be my vice

Baby, you got something in your nose Sniffing that K, did you feel the hole? Hope you find peace for yourself New boyfriend ain't gon' fill the void

Do you even really like this track? Take away the drugs, would you feel the noise? More and more you try to run away You fucking yourself, do you feel the toy?

❄️•••••••••••••••••••⚓️

tw : drug use

•••••••••••••••••••

6/5/23

1:27 pm

A faint knock at the door jolts Jamie back to reality. Here he is at it again, left alone with his thoughts for maybe a little too long and he finds himself spreading out a baggie of coke on his marble countertop, propped up by his elbows on the island as he took a quick glance at the door; and being the hothead he is, he inhales the entire messy line that stretched halfway across. His nose traveled around slightly out of place as he tried to get up all he needed in his nasal cavity.

He could hear Mason at the door, questioning something he couldn't properly make out as he tripped up the ledge to the front door. He had only just done a line, how could it have hit him like a bus so quick?

It didn't. Not yet, at least.

It was all the revelry going on. Everywhere. The stress, his head, the moment, Mason's mere existence, and the ear-splitting silence he broke with his faulty steps.

Jamie twisted the doorknob, and slightly pulled it open as Mason scanned him with his... his eyes. The ones he knew all too well. His dusty brown tinted curls were overgrown, forming a thin curtain over his eyes. Mason's gaze was soft, but Jamie could still feel the thick and heavy honey dripping from those pools of golden brown. His lips were pursed like he wanted to say something but was in such a state of confusion and shock he couldn't form the words.

''James..''

Jamie perked up, his eyelashes fluttering as he leaned on the doorway slightly tipping forward into Mason's space like he was drawn by a magnet.

''Wh- what?''

''Did you uh.. are you on anything?'' Mason was still nice to him, but there was something else between them that made their hearts ache and long for something. Sure, he was a fucking wreck but at least he wouldn't leave him to die like Trevor did. Not like that fucker who made him fall for him by pushing him. His presence made Jamie fall for him. Why did he have to be so goddamn loveable? He ate him alive because he fucking let him. The boy he loved the most left him skin and bones.

Mason was here now. Jamie was here, now. In the present. He wasn't sobbing on the ground, right where Trevor left him.

Something flits across Mason's eyes. Maybe it was the coke talking. Behind him, as he still stood on his porch, the sky is a quilt of fluffy clouds. Noticing the world made him float away even more. The closer he gets to it, the faster he slips away. If only Mason would touch him, smile, speak, or just anything. Maybe his hallucinations made him speak his mind out loud, but not like he'd ever know. Mason brought up a soft hand, swiping away the leftover powder from his nose before he pulls him into a hug. He smelled like the bittersweetness of coffee and whiskey with undertones of sandalwood. He smells like home.

Jamie could feel a fire inside Mason which wasn't burning, but warming. He feels like home.

''Everyone can be helped. Trust me on that. I've got you.'' Mason's kind, considerate words just let Jamie melt into him further. Some tears escaped his faintly bloodshot eyes, then followed by the waterworks. Whine after whine, sob after sob, ''if he loved me where is he now'' after ''if he loved me where is he now''s. When he gets overwhelmed, it all hits him at once. It's like a hurricane picking up every terrible thing he's done, the people he's ruined and left broken, every slash with a razor, every single thing down to the minute details.

Mctavish just let him fall apart onto him, as he gently lifted his legs from underneath him and rotated him in a comfortable position.

''Right here. Let it all out. Always gonna be here.'' Oh, Mason. Oh, Mason. If only he knew what he was getting himself into.

He closed the door with his foot and made slow, steady strides to the couch. Jamie was heavy, but he'd deal. He let himself sink into the cushions, with the boy still sobbing in his arms with his own wrapped around his neck.

Mason loved the damage, and Jamie was overflowing with it.

Jamie's cheek bloomed red before he began unexpectedly sucking on Mason's collarbone. He could tell he enjoyed it for a second. For fucks sake, he was pressed up against the guy and could feel everything going on from his belt buckle to six inches down his left thigh. He's no stranger to fucking up, and he know he shouldn't have done what he did when Mason pulled his head away.

''Jim, what the fuck was that?'' Mason cried, confusion and hurt in his face.

''Mmh. Nothing. Just'm.. let me keep working'' Jamie slurred. Anyone would have thought he was drunk, but no, it was just the coke talking.

''Aren't you still with Trevor, and like... I do want you, just not wanting to be a rebound of you, feel me?'' Mason tried to sever contact, but Jamie was all over him.

''Not a rebound. Promise you, baby.'' Even in this state of mind, Jamie thought of everything that could set Mason off. Experimenting when he's not supposed to be taught him a lot. He's never slept with Mason or any of his friends besides Trevor, but he knew the type of person Mctavish was. Lucky guess, perhaps.

Jamie slid a hand up his shirt, as the tears dried on his cheeks. Things were escalating, and they were climbing fast.

''Damn it, why do you have to be so..'' The curlyhead's voice dripped like honey, and Jamie was lapping up every last drop.

''I know. I know I am.'' Jamie's cocky affirmations went straight Mason's dick, as it gave a meaningless twitch underneath his sweats.

Jamie wasted no time hooking his fingers underneath Mason's waistband and tugging it down to his ankles. He was already rocking half a chub but it didn't stop Jamie from taking all of him into his mouth. He could already feel him growing, as his tip poked at the back of Jamie's throat.

Mason suppressed noises of pure bliss as Jamie started to work his tongue around every vein up to his tip, taking ample time just suckling at his tip before he bottomed out again. Mason watched and interlaced his fingers in Jamie's jet-black hair, where it still moved in unison with his head bobbing.

Jamie could have swore his jaw locked. He made eye contact with Mason and that really sent him over the edge. He could feel his thighs tensing around his head, and his back arching from pleasure. Jamie then quickly pulled off, breaking a thread of saliva connecting their bodies. When he quickly broke stimulation, Mason gave a pitiful whine.

''I was so.. close.'' He panted, watching hazily as Jamie struggled to pull his flannel pajama pants off, followed by his overside t-shirt. Jamie then worked Mason's own shirt off, as well as slipping Mason's sweats off his ankles.

Everything moved so incredibly quick. One second Jamie was lining himself up and the next he was taking Mason inch by inch until he had all of him. Being unprepared made it hurt, but it hurt so good.

Maybe that's why Mason loves the damage and Jamie loves the hurt.

It wasn't long before Mason stopped trying to keep quiet. He let out almost every vulgar, desperate sound imaginable. Letting his hands explore Jamie's body made it harder to hold out. Jamie breathed heavily, with his nose buried in Mason's jaw. Small sweat droplets from both of their slick faces mixed together, making the quick chaste kiss taste salty and grossly warm; despite what they were doing.

''Right- right there babe, so close'' Jamie whispered into his ear as he nipped at Mason's earlobe.

They both couldn't hold it any longer.

Their bodies released all tension, including some moans unintentionally held back they both climaxed and spilled out, all unraveling for each other.

''I don't think you, or even me knows how wrong that was'' Coming down from his high brought Mason back to reality. He just fucked his best friend.

No. Way. Absolutely. Not. This couldn't be real.

But it was all real. So tangible and right in front of him, trying to catch a breath while he was coming down from his climax, and his high from the coke he snorted earlier.

''You know I never do anything right''

Jamie devilishly smiled against his cheek with his false grandeur.

•

He couldn't ever pinpoint when, where, and why Jamie fell for the next best option after Trevor but he scrapes it up to just rebounding and it will hopefully pass.

Trevor promised something he could no longer remember. But he knew it was long since broken.

Mason is just another one of Jamie's many vices.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / chapter IX : golden dagger

I wanted to see you naked, I wanted to hear you scream

I wanted to kiss your skin and your everything

I wanted to be your woman, I wanted to be your man

I wanted to be the one that you could understand

•

You give me chills

I've had it with drills.

I am nothing, you are nothing, we are nothing with the pills

what I am empty 'til she fills

•

I walked into your dagger for the last time in a row

It's like trying to start a fire with matches in the snow

Well, you can't seem to hold me here, you can't seem to let me go

So I can't find surrender, can't keep control

You turn me inside out and then you want me outside in

You spin me all around and then you ask me not to spin

You say you want to be alone and then you want children

You wanna be with me, you wanna be with him

🔱•••••••••••••••••••🥃

jamie’s inexplainable thoughts : god damn what have i gotten myself into. i wish i could be able to get my feelings out into words, just like trevor could. there is no label for my emotions. i don’t want to feel. i want to feel him.

notes : catch the be nice to me - the front bottoms and whiskey river - zach bryan references !

tw : alcoholism

6/5/23

1:03pm

Trevor left his tracks in the driveway long before where he'd be parked by nine o'clock at night. He always complained about how he wanted to fix what was broken, but he'd always be gone before the crack of dawn; whether mentally inebriated or physically gone. He sure has a way of shaking Jamie's unstable foundation and leaving him for dead.

They're conflicting. Jamie always wanted to hear the ''I love you's'' come out of Trevor's mouth although he knew it was fake and way too reckless to throw the phrase around. He sure loved him if he switched up on him after Jamie was meant to break him.

When that wide-eyed boy was on his mind, Jamie always drank and smoked a little more. It's always one last time, yet they've been so blinded that they never know when one of them is gonna fall off into the deep end and never come back. This time, Jamie couldn't feel Trevor's constant metaphorical grasp on him.

Maybe this was the last time.

No.

It had to be the last time.

Jamie's engine is up in flames as he's busy burning rubber. He's already been derailed and ever since Trevor cut and ran he's been a goddamn trainwreck. Now he's back at square one; where they fell out.

The regret stings like venom. It stings and stings and stings until the wound is numb and he's on a highway to hell.

Again and again and again, Jamie would repeat it. The world was coated in gold, he'd whine it to anyone who'd listened. It sparkled in the light, even though it was just gold-plated to hide the cheap metal underneath.

Jamie swears that Trevor is gone, but he didn't die. His heart never stopped beating, and he never stopped breathing. He wasn't six feet under with a headstone reading about the good in his days which he might have thought would be carved in with the evil. He can't go to his grave and drop roses over some disturbed dirt. He killed himself. He chose to do drugs. He chose to drink. He chose to stay with the one who fueled his drive for mutilating himself. He died. Trevor died. Whatever he was, it wasn't Trevor.

He was a murderer.

There are some things he asks of Jamie and there are certain things he can't achieve. In the beginning, everything was shining like gold in an untouched mine, but now they've fallen like shooting stars. What does it matter anymore? There's no meaning to Jamie's life. Trevor was everything to him and he managed to stutter and fuck up with him for what was surely the last time. Life is like a ticking time bomb, and he's running out of time. And they ran and ran and ran for miles, just to be running from something they could never escape; which was themselves. Trevor is the Bonnie to Jamie's Clyde. The only ones they were ruining were themselves. The situation will forever be unfair. Someone gets to win and the other has to lose. Trevor is changing but he never had to stay the same, static character he was.

He could change every distinguishing detail about himself, but never the fact that he's driving Jamie fucking insane.

He can only miss when Trevor loved him like he actually did. Jamie could say it time and time again and it wouldn't change a single thing. Letting go is tearing him apart, maybe quicker than it would to his former boyfriend, best friend, and lifeline.

•

After way too long, Jamie comes back to himself. He's got a pounding headache and his body is heavy and light at the same time. He smells like dried sweat and a mix of unidentifiable liquors. His cloudy vision is crowded with the millions of little things someone is supposed to fill their house with. The chemical warmth hits Jamie like a brick followed by a quick sting of acid reflux. Usually, he'd dampen the aftertaste of puking his guts out with even more liquor than what was used to tamp his thoughts the night prior. Now it wouldn't really feel as good. Some fragments of Trevor's presence linger next to Jamie, where his cheek is pressed into the old wood oak floor chilled by the air conditioning cooling his house throughout.

Honest to god, Jamie should get all of his money back. Someone once said firewater kills a memory but it isn't doing shit for him, and quite frankly kicking up more dust. Now there's dust in his eyes, which could explain the salty tears dripping and reforming his eyelashes into looking like ones of a Bratz doll. He's even been buzzing all night like neon signs in Nashville and taking double shooters like it's nothing, but there's nothing strong enough to drive all his problems away. That's the sick reality of getting drunk. Nothing will ever make the cut, and that just adds to the pain of the cold, hard truth.

Hell, he's turned his entire stash inside out looking for something enough to fade the constant reminder that Trevor was going, going, and finally gone like a left-field ball getting lost in the sun. The only one getting faded is quite obvious that sick, son of a bitch, Jamie Drysdale.

He wasn't all booze, though. It was a defense and coping mechanism he turned to when everything got a little too overwhelming. It was drowning in a liquor river forgetting all his worries. It was a liquor-drinking fever he couldn't shake no matter how much he tried. He's a heavy-drinking, hard-hitting, hot-headed boy. Fuck being sober past 10pm, it's much easier to drown someone's worries out in spirits and embodies that liquid courage into doing something dumb as shit and smelling regrets on their own breath again.

Jamie's back to where he fell.

There's sweat and tears in his eyes and dripping down his face to wherever else that gross mixture of body fluids can hide.

Now he was opening Mason's contact, the next guy in line he could fall into and hopefully not bring him crashing down as he falls. Next thing he knows, Mason is picking up the phone.

''James? What's up? You alright?'' Mctavish questioned.

''Mhm.. can y- can you come over?'' Jamie was obviously pretty hammered with the way he was slurring his words.

''Yeah, buddy... sure. You good?''

''Missin' Trevor, ya know? Besides the point. I need you like.. really bad.'' Jamie strung together his phrasing, maybe suggesting something other than what he was letting on.

''I got ya, I'll um.. be over in a second. See you in a bit, love ya.'' Mason definitely knew. He knew when Jamie would get drunk. He knew what would trigger it. He knew Jamie better than he knew himself, and that was what made him runner-up next to Trevor. Maybe he also knew Jamie was gonna end up falling for him to fill the void. Maybe he knew, maybe he didn't. Maybe he was okay with it, maybe he was not and was just trying to be there for Jamie when he needed it the most. Like every other detail, it's all a goddamn blur.

Mason is still supportive of him. But there's some elephant in the room. Something there. He can't tell if it's the tension because Mason is stuck in the middle of him and his relationship problems, or because he doesn't want to rebound off of one of his best friends and his best friend doesn't want him to rebound off him. It's a big confusing mess. Everything is at this point. There's a distance that sticks him with needles and injects his veins with kerosene which was an angry fuel used to burn out everyone.

Somewhere, probably sitting on a barstool, Trevor is writing out the words Jamie could never say let alone find. Something sappy and along the lines of losing a soul he once knew like the back of his hand.

We’ve all been through it, feeling an overwhelming yearning for an old flame, with that familiar tug in our hearts, manifesting an ache that can never really be filled. We open in a dimly lit bar, with a somewhat familiar song playing in the background. We focus in on a younger guy, glancing out the window, a tear rolling down his cheek. We then move to the counter, where he has a shot of whiskey waiting for him. I was sad and I was drunk, one combined feeling of misery, drowning myself in booze and heartache. We cut to a series of flashbacks of the young man and his ex, romantic moments in a park, holding hands while strolling through the city, a laugh shared over dinner, etc. My mind was on a loop, thinking back on all the sweet moments we shared, hoping for a way to make things the way they used to be. But we both know that was never happening. Back in the bar, the man orders one last drink, raising his glass to no one in particular. So here I lifted my glass one last time, in memory of all that had been and what would never be. The longing and emptiness will stay with me, but at least I was still brave enough to admit it to myself. We end where it began, with the man walking out of the bar into the night, his silhouette lost in the dark. And the wise words to herself that no one else need ever hear. I’m going to be alright.

That's how he could imagine Trevor could write it. The thought drove a knife through his heart and twisted it, but the gold and good Trevor coated his dagger with brought out in everything that outshone all the shit they'd said and done. Jamie's a simple man. He wants to see the clean, beautiful side of things he could never find, just like everyone else. Trevor did a good job putting on the blinkers for him until he tripped and fucked up like a racehorse. Not that he's much different.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / chapter VIII : twenty so and one-oh-three

Don't get me ventin' on friends who resent you

'Cause all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to

They thought was a necklace and reckless

They fell into Hell where you both hang with nothing to do but

Scratch, kick, let gravity win like

Fuck this, let gravity win like

You could leave it all behind

Even the Devil need time alone sometimes

You could let it all go, you could let it go

It’s called: freefall

•

Anyway, you say you're too busy

And you don't want no help, oh well

That's the story to tell

•

trevor’s journal entry : it’s easy to fallout. but hard to realize. i don’t think i ever wanna see you again but i still keep myself thinking you’ll be there when i need you but i really know you’ll move on some day. i don't want this old flame to warm me anymore but I don't want to get cold

notes : catch the hidden twenty so-zb, cold blooded-zb and driving-zb references !

tw : past self-harm, past suicide attempts (implied)

🛣️•••••••••••••••••••🗺️

6/5/23

5:12am

Jamie. It always starts with fucking Jamie. Hooking up with him, or just Jamie fucking Drysdale.

That boy was a noose disguised as a shiny, pretty pearl necklace. He fell into hell because of some pearls and a clasp they latched together.

Trevor loved shiny things.

Trevor always had to help polish Jamie and keep him shiny, so much so that his own glint was gone.

He kind of misses being in the wake of burning down their love, but it felt better to watch it five hundred miles away in another city. There's only so much heat a heart can suffer through, though; so he drowns it in Jamie's cold blood that should freeze a million fragments of his glass heart over soon enough. His soul is so flooded. Can't Jamie just be his muse and vice again? Wouldn't it be something if they could find a way, someplace and somewhere in time where they could be fine? Jamie was a spitfire. Jamie was a fireball whiskey-shooting boy. Nevertheless, he was cold-blooded. Cold as ice.

Apart does them better, but letting go is killing Trevor softly. Eight years ago, he thought he would be on his wedding day with Jamie. With no baby's breath flowers polka-dotting the bouquets' pattern or wedding cake's flavors dancing on their tongues, Trevor finds himself in a beat-down neon motel just outside of Cedar City, Utah. Slowly, ever so slowly but surely killing the indifference in Trevor's face and transforming it into internalized hurt.

Too much was changing all at once. Change was scary. Change was like a cougar lurking in the shrubs, ready to strike at any moment and overwhelm them with too much to process. Change was like an airstrike on an unsuspecting small town. Change was an unforgiving, ruthless thing. First of all, he's quit drugs and alcohol cold turkey with no knowledge of if it would last. Withdrawals have been shit, which explains his mood swings and especially how emotionless he was when he left Jamie sobbing on his living room floor. The world isn't meant for showing mercy, and the sight of the boy he once loved, or still loved... it's unclear.. was so much to bear he could barely even process it. When Jamie first suggested Trevor go fuck off to New York, Trevor was the one breaking down. It's a hell of a change to flip the switch and break the boy who broke him. Secondly, who else does he have? Sure, he's got Jack, Cole, and the guys; but how could he even bring it up? Jamie gave worn-out excuses about his horrible judgment and substance abuse, and he stayed purely for the sole reason of sympathy. What's the use in loving a letdown like Jamie? He's let Trevor down just like every time before, and he's just been slamming doors and then crawling back and begging him for another fix of whatever coke he laced in his existence. Truth to god, Trevor would be more addicted to Jamie than any hard drug. Jamie would let him down for the hundred and third time when Trevor eventually calls him up drunk, pleading for him to have him. He knows he makes his spine shiver, just like the way Jamie did to him. Really, Jamie isn't as terrible as anyone makes him out to be. He's just another kid with mental illness and addiction to boy problems. What made him so special to Trevor was how he wasn't just a boy; he was his whole multiverse.

Jamie. He was the silence to his loud.

It's no surprise 'forever' doesn't really last. Those promises they made to each other, whether it be to stay sober or promise themselves to each other, didn't mean jack shit now. He was already 500 miles away, and he's been taking it really slow. Driving through the desert is quite scenic. Even on the highway, it's not hard for someone to find themselves indulging in the American West's natural beauty. It would be by far more beautiful if he had that wispy-haired boy next to him, pointing out the window to every ranch or sight yelling 'cow!' or 'horse!' like a child on a family road trip. The desert sure is hot, and the fire inside Trevor was burning just as scorching. Jamie and Trevor had no purpose. They were young, dumb, and half-dead, but Trevor could only pray he would go back to Jamie's heavy and loving gaze he had fixed on him when he was sober for once in his life.

•

The neon sign buzzed in the corner of his eye, as he sat outside by the illuminated pool. The sky always seemed bigger in Utah. His car is one of the few parked vehicles in the small, corroded lot a couple hundred yards over. The weight of his emotions weighed him down in the plastic Adirondack chair, binding him down so he wasn't able to leave. Everything was so heavy. He'd lost weight yet he still felt like he was carrying a million pounds on his shoulders, causing his collarbones to crack. Gravity could pull him down to the core and he wouldn't resist. He wouldn't scratch, kick, thrash, or bite; just let the force of gravity win. Just... let it all go. Even the air was thick and dry, and each inhale scratched at his lungs and gave a false numbness every time he exhaled. Something about the orange and greens of the southwestern region was settling. It was so easy on his eyes that it brought him back down to Earth, as he examined how the plateaus stacked on top of each other until it was just a staircase into the tree line. They all cascaded like dominoes in a line, waiting to fall and bring it all down together. Constant thinking of what he did to Jamie hurt him more than Jamie could ever understand. The mixture of the moonlight and neon lights mixed together so peacefully, as it blended and shone down on the damage on Trevor's forearms. His raised scars matched the way his veins looked, and suddenly he found himself thinking about how many more he could add on.

He started at twenty-four, all counted for when his addiction began. Then at fifty when it sparked up pretty bad. Wash, rinse, repeat and it leads to one hundred and three scars on him. That didn't even count what faded. One hundred and three reasons why Jamie wasn't truly meant to be his boy, forever and always. There's no need in going back into his bedroom again. He wants to hear the birds and the revelry when the day finally comes. Someone can only come so close to the ends of the earth before dying, and being outside where society was, and not enclosed in his car or some little hotel room. Trevor found himself at peace, in an odd way. No deadline to get home. Just him, his mustang, and the road. Besides, his mom would be fine giving him his room back anyway. No worries there. Mostly, it was centered around Jamie. He told himself over and over again they would get back together, just to keep himself sane. Trevor fears so much of something that will never come; which is his younger days being done. They've only just started and he's Trevor, so his dog days of being childish and hasty would never end; fuck, it would be taken until he's run so far he's tripped into his grave. He's tried tripping himself enough, but now he knows why and where to put his feet. Trevor tied his shoes. He's done tripping. He's come close enough to the ends of the earth so many times, he knows what it feels like. Revisiting his younger days back in his mind, the western morning breeze carried his curls across his face until it settled and so did his hair. The auburn was coming back fiery, just like it should have. Jamie was the one who unintentionally dulled it, yet he was the one who lit fire to Trevor in their younger days. When the day is done, and the whispering trees call him home, he'd be begging for a savior to drag him out of the savage nights of twenty-something. When the night cuts cold, and Jamie is lying asleep in his bed, with Trevor almost three thousand miles away doing the same, he'd be begging for a savior to hold him through the sweet nights of twenty-something, too.

It's really hard to love a boy like Jamie, especially in his emerging prime. He had a fucked up sense of humor and reckless habits.

Good thing Trevor hated living easily.

•

Trevor could only wonder how Jamie was doing. He could text him and entertain Jamie, but he didn't. Besides, he would just get hooked on him again. Was he still thinking of him? Was he drinking of him? Was he out at a bar to cope and swallow down the feeling and suffering? Was he on his way to him? Was he going back to his hometown? Would he ever get over him? Would he ever find little pieces of Trevor, since he could never be totally gone?

Shit hurts to think about it. How Jamie is most likely on his way to his deathbed, and how Trevor is doing just fucking peachy. How Trevor is revving up his engine and driving through the night.

Jamie knows they were star-crossed lovers. Trevor hopes the stars would line up in their favor. Jamie knows they juxtapose. Trevor doesn't want to believe they juxtapose.

He wants to believe somewhere in his eyes, he would end up on Jamie's side. Trevor's turned into what he was bound to be, even though he used to be so great. Thinking back to the polaroids hung up above their bed, they looked like they were living in a movie. Too bad nothing on screen is real.

Even though the sky was spread out like a tablecloth, and the constellations were like old tatters and rips; Trevor wishes to be anywhere but there. His breathing only steadies when the sun rises behind him, casting a shadow onto the sunburnt concrete. He's been slipping out of his own body for a while this morning and watching his physical self from afar. Mostly the same way Jamie would watch society from the sidelines. Fuck, Jamie's back in his head again. Not that he left, just got louder. Being loud didn't suit Jamie. More of the brevity that was the opposite of Trevor's revelry. Driving to stay alive, and letting the days pass until the clear skies turn dark. Trevor would give anything to be back home, far, far away from his problems; but there's no escaping the prison of his own mind, so he just settles in and coasts.

The stealthiest yet deadliest part of all of it was how it gutted Trevor from the inside out, and he didn't feel a thing at all.

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / Chapter VII : sun drenched linen

And when we've had our very last kiss

My last request is

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha (ha-ah, ha)

Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

You'll see me in hindsight

Tangled up with you all night

Burning it down

Someday when you leave me

I bet these memories

Follow you around

•

trevor’s journal entry : i miss you. i want you back. but i cant have you if i want myself too.

tw: drug abuse, alcohol abuse

🕰️•••••••••••••••••••☀️

6/4/23

5:12am

The hardwood floor was cold against the scarred skin of Jamie's arms, as he lay face down on the ground with drained liquor bottles scattered around him. Disgusting, he was, with spit and tears dripping from his chin and his coughs from the weed he smoked earlier were throaty. If Trevor had been there, he would have been disgusted. Jamie's gross. So was his attitude and the dirty little jokes he would crack to break the tension. Jamie always questioned himself if it felt nasty or if he felt nasty because there was a difference.

Oh, how he missed that. Even when he would lie in bed all night pondering what the answers to everything were.

Their... well, Jamie's bedroom now never felt so empty. Of course, Trevor was an annoying little shit but now Jamie sort of missed the revelry. His laugh was loud and genuine like he knew he could be authentic with Jamie. That kid with unruly hair was sweet, in a way. Like a kind and comforting boy; when nobody was around of course. Always seemed like Trevor had a front on, or his guard up. Protecting himself from the outside world, he took nothing seriously and tried to draw attention to himself rather than his thoughts that told otherwise than the happy boy's beaming smile. Since Jamie met that false front of Trevor, the world seemed like it was coated in gold.

Not everything that shines is always going to be gold.

Hoodies and clothes, quality still pristine despite being through hell and back were laid out on Jamie's bed. They were his.

His clothes.

Trevor left his clothes.

Yet, he could have taken them to have a little piece of Jamie left with him. All the same, his clothes were folded up on his bed.

Trevor knew they were his. And he left it all behind. He knew because he folded it up, and laid it out neatly instead of throwing it to the side like he was unaware Just when he thought shit couldn't possibly get worse, his already sick stomach did flips and his pre-shattered heart seemed to finally die completely.

Quiet. The sound of the wind gently whistling through the trees, and Jamie's heavy breathing was the only quiet sounds. He always wanted quiet; whether it be a quiet home or a quiet life. Now that silence ate him alive and gutted him from the inside out. All he needs right now is to call Trevor up and apologize for everything and sort out his confused emotions. Trevor isn't his anymore. He can't do that. Who else does he fucking have? Trevor was his world and now it's all up in flames and the ashes of what they burned won't arise into another phoenix.

That's how it always goes. But now it was for sure. Trevor was gone, he was probably on a highway going eastbound. Of course, he drove, and he's probably passing through the places Jamie said they'd never go. Why? Because he's Trevor Zegras; that's what he does. He's cocky and annoying as shit, but he has a sensitive side to him where he hangs on to something as much as he can until it's completely gone. He could have taken a quick way out, letting it be taking a plane back home. Or an even quicker way out; where the ending to his story was only 10 pills and 10 bottles away.

Lifting his tired, aching head, Jamie took one last look at his bed and the folded up clothing. It was a beautiful sight, but it hurt like hell. Beautiful in a sense maybe he could finally heal, but leaving Trevor cold turkey hurt. And it would hurt and hurt and hurt until he was so numb; or used to the pain that he couldn’t feel it. Maybe in some parallel universe, he could have him all for his own without a care in the world. Somewhere they work. They have to work. But then again, we’re they even meant to last? Trevor’s already said goodbye, and he doesn’t wanna make him say it twice. In the end, he’s never gonna come home anyway.

His disheveled dark hair fell over his eyes, impairing his vision. It was feathery, like Trevor used to call it. Maybe he could be a bird rising from the ashes like a phoenix. No. No. No. He can’t conspire again. Conspiring and theorizing what could have been hurts and he knows that.

Climbing to the rooftop once again, weed stashed in his pockets and holding as much liquor as possible he could in one arm, this time without his situationship.

That boy was like a smoke ring coiled around his left ring finger, wrapped around it like he would do anything for Jamie. One second, it’s heaven; then the next it’s evaporated into think air.

That boy, it hurt so fucking bad to say his name again.

There he lied, residing in the wreckage of himself and a million tears. Alcohol bottles crowding the space where Trevor would have sat, on the rooftop overlooking the view that below held their driveway and then following out to the interstate not too far away. The parking spot next to Jamie’s sunburnt truck looked so empty now, without Trevor’s mustang he never drove. He always rode shotgun with Jamie, so what was the point? Maybe his car had a use for once. Instead of that fastback, there were tire marks imprinted on the dirt below the thin sheet of gravel that pulled out and escaped towards the highway.

Jamie could only wish he had someone to lose, other than himself. All he’s got now is some coke in a little baggie in his pocket. He’s out of touch with his body already, so completely straying from it seems definitely sensible. In his filtered eyes, of course. What else does he have left to prove, and what else does he have if not Trevor? Trevor fucking Zegras took his heart and all his worth with him.

He hadn’t snorted coke in a while, not since a couple weeks ago with Trevor. It made him remember, but mostly made him forget. Hopefully it would take all his worries away for a good 30 minutes. Trevor’s a thousand miles away, so he cuts and snorts a thousand lines. How it’s always been, every time they did this. It would be the last time, like they agreed anyway, no? Truth to God, not even Trevor wanted it to be their last. Something was telling him that he didn’t savor every last moment with him. Nothing like staring down the middle of a blade then getting stabbed moments later. They should have just shared one last blunt. One last bottle. One last kiss. But no. It was cut short and they didn’t even know what would be their last, based on their history. Trevor getting up off his ass and driving for over 3 days would be a sure fire way to get out of everything. If he runs far enough, he’s bound to trip.

His hands never felt so heavy as he pulled out the small bag of snowy powder from his pocket. Maybe burying his sorrows in the coke would pass the time by.

Pouring out some of the contents on the flat side of a liquor bottle, he used his longer coke nail to separate it into lines. Bringing the bottle up to his nose reluctantly, he quickly finished the job and sniffled a bit as he scrunched his nose and felt it all rush to his head. At that moment, life was golden. Finally, he got it back.

Shit doesn’t get more beat-down-frat-boy than that.

•

The sun rose early this morning, and Jamie could only wonder if Trevor saw it too. Was he still driving? Was he at a hotel? Did he miss him? Was he sorry? Was he putting on another fake front when he left? How come he acted so nonchalant when he left as if when Jamie suggested it he didn’t break down? Did he still love him? Intoxicated-texting him would be the only way to tell. The early morning sun drenched his linen-pale skin, as it soaked in all its rays like a dog basking in the sunlight through a glass sliding door of the living room. He pulled his phone from his other pocket, while his vision grew swirly and impaired. Then he thought for a hot second about what Trevor would do without him. Too high to cry or even think too deeply, the thoughts still floated around in his head.

Would Trevor remember him? Would he remember watching the sunset with him? Would he remember their late night drives? Would he remember the rooftops? Would he remember his electric blue eyes and the way he stared into the windows of his soul and read him like a book? Would he remember how rosy his cheeks would get while Trevor gave him head? Would he remember the way he cried into his arms? Would he say he’d see him again even if it was just in his wildest dreams?

Would he see him in the back of his mind? Would he be wrestling himself all night because of Jamie? Would his memory follow him around? Would he love him again even if it’s just in his wildest dreams?

j : miss u

j : love u

j : need u

j : come back to me

j : sorry

j : i am im reallhbfy sofrry

j : how r y

j : you okay

j : home?

j : where y’a at

j : hope ur safe baby

Read 6:34am

No responses after that. Just Jamie’s sporadic, incoherent texting. He was so high up in the clouds he never even realized that the conversation he was making up in his head wasn’t real, too hazy to even make out into words. Just what he wanted to hear.

•

Trevor and Jamie were meant to go everywhere, and anywhere. But Trevor fucking Zegras took his heart and all his worth with him.

They were anywherebound, right?

[slut4sway]

did you guys know strange by miranda lambert inspired anywherebound

maybe my yeehaw country playlist does good to other people but i will never know

[slut4sway]

Anywherebound / chapter IV : western wind that lulls the last spark

You don't have to drink tonight, why don't we just get some sleep? 'Cause I'm tired of crying in driveways As you slur the words you speak I know growing up has been an evil thing to you Makes you awful hard to love from a lover's point of view

And I'll never understand how you wound up in the shape you're in But I'll always be the fool who fell for you in your burning skin I'll be praying for you and pining for you And hoping you get some rest But from a lover's point of view it's all been hard to watch at best

•

'Cause from where I'm standing you got a long climb ahead I'll be there to wipe the vomit when you cannot lift your head 'Cause a lover doesn't leave when times like these get dark I'll be there to watch the sunrise when we reclaim your heart

And I'll pick you up downtown when you're grinning with a busted lip 'Cause you're not known for backing down And those boys are known for talking shit But now's about the time, look, you really got to decide Are you gonna be a good man to me or die the way your mother died?

•

notes : im weaponizing my writing, (/j) consider this a warning because this drove a stake to my heart.

🏜️•••••••••••••••••••🌾

5/27/23

1:48am

The stars shining through the window were like coke particles scattered on the dark black bedsheet stained with beer and sweat the first night they hooked up. All the dirty secrets they hid from their teammates were like the western wind that took them from the pool to the bedroom, and that took them away from their friends. The high beams burning down backroads, Jamie's tears and spit trickling down the cold window glass, and Trevor's perma-stoic and lifeless demeanor were all part of the high they chased. Or used to chase. Who knows anymore, because Trevor tried to stay sober but jamie couldn't even hold himself back? It was almost like the promises he made didn't matter at all, and like he was just a bluff; or a letdown. Jamie made it hard to love himself, even from Trevor's point of view. Through the boy's eyes who tolerated him and stuck with him through everything, even if he thought he didn't deserve it. But everyone deserves someone, right? Not in Jamie's case. His problem is whenever he thinks he doesn't deserve something, he goes and ruins it.

Trevor's problem is complicated. It isn't a problem in his eyes, but it should be. After every single slip-up and mistake, he goes running back to jamie. Running back to him, picking him up, and piecing him back together under the western starlight. Jamie is constantly on the porch swing of Trevor's mind; when he should be sitting on a porch swing watching the sun's final cresting, lying in his arms. Jamie didn't have any jagged edges other than his words. He was soft in all the right places until he turned it to stone. His jamie wasn't reckless. His jamie wasn't fake. His jamie wasn't trying to hurt him. Since he was so filled with rage it made it hard to tell the difference between his altered personality and what he really was.

Trevor wants him. He wants the old jamie back. People change, and they're supposed to but this time it wasn't for the better. When they were simple and taking things one day at a time, that was the better. He remembers sitting there, a rainy night in upstate new york in a well-used chair; telling him and reminiscing over the bullshit they used to pull as kids. The forest wind would call them home and make them feel like they did, and all the people who came to watch them fall didn't stand a chance. When they knew one was home by a certain creak in the floor that changed pitches from the weight of their step.

The kids back in Ontario would talk about jamie like some kind of legend when a thousand sunrises ago he was just as ambitious and wild as them. Damn well different, but still the same; just morphed into oblivion.

Trevor could write all he wanted and bleed his feelings out onto a page, but even if he cried until his little lungs turned blue; jamie would still be alone without the secure, subtle 130lbs next to him in his bed. He wasn't going anywhere. Even if he did, jamie would go a million and one miles to find him.

He knew he would need to eventually.

Nothing gold can stay, as they say.

Trevor picked up his ballpoint pen, ready to pour his thoughts out on a page; like his old therapist taught him to.

It started off empty. Just words. Keywords. Questions. All in the same form of 'Why' or 'he promised me' or 'I'm trying to get better.

Then he found it.

When you're brought into a burning relationship you think the whole world is on fire. It is. Your world is on fire. I wasn't brought into a burning relationship per se, but I was always told I was the one who brought it alight. When you're young, dumb, and easily influenced it can be a good learning experience. In my case, it's quite the opposite. Fucking damaging with a pretty exterior exoskeleton. So similar to a flame. This made me think I was the one who caused this relationship to go up in flames, and that it was never initially on fire, but rather I was the match. I cut and rip myself apart to find what it is inside me that made me into that burning match. But matches always need friction and oxygen to strike a flame. After what felt like being suffocated for who knows how long; there was still oxygen to light the match inside the relationship. But the match has always been me. We should've burnt it down and watched as the door slammed and we walk our separate ways. But you're my twin flame. But I'm just a lit match to your gasoline. I wish I would've let it burn.

These words wouldn't have made sense to jamie and his foggy, unclear conscious. But it would have to be Jamie with fire in his eyes. It was Jamie's name that made Trevor drink so much that he forgot his own. But he couldn't leave. If he left, he wouldn't have circular burns on his back from jamie snuffing his joints. He wouldn't have his forearms slashed into nothing but ruined flesh. Everyone always said Trevor was a cocky twentysomething-year-old, and he was lucky his front never showed what went on where they couldn't see. Jamie never explicitly said it was Trevor's fault, but he took unneeded responsibility anyway. He took false accountability for the fact he kept running back and feeding the flame. Jamie would have been lying face down in a bathroom stall with his depression medication empty now if it weren't for Trevor staying by his side through hell and back, albeit. Still, Trevor doesn't remember who he was before jamie. It's always been them or nothing. Jamie would hold him when he cried in his arms about other boys, cause even when he was young and bold he couldn't ever tell him he wanted more with him. How he had a fiery pining hunger for a future with Trevor.

This isn't the future he meant.

Jamie lay still and cold with his head leaning against the tear-streaked windows. He watched with soulless eyes as Trevor scratched and scribbled words in his messy handwriting in a spiral notebook, which he no longer recognized. Trevor used to write about his feelings around him. Not often anymore, but he would tell him about whatever he wrote when they woke up and weren't so hit-and-miss. They parked on the gravel driveway of their ranch home, where there was nothing but mountains in the distance rolling for miles. It was pitch black and the summer air was heavy and dry. Some crickets chirped; the sound is lost in the breeze. Trevor hung his arm out of the window, staring down at every thought he poured out that ate at his bones for the past hour. It was silent. It, as in his head. For one time in his life, he was numb. He used to feel; but now that he couldn't, he missed it peculiarly. Not that he missed wanting to die, but feeling the weight of his emotions and his stress being carried in his sinuses, making it hard to breathe. The raw thoughts on his page didn't mock him the way they used to. The weight was temporarily lifted off his shoulders, other than Jamie's obvious low-vibrational presence. Trevor could feel jamie eroding away next to him, just like goddamn Lake Missoula. He could sense the way jamie was clawing his way out of a hole, but he could feel the water drowning him. He wishes he could drain him out like the prehistoric lake, and let him breathe for once. Trevor's efforts were futile, for once; when his presence wasn't enough anymore. Jamie loved being around him, but it was almost like he was corroding from the inside; being eaten and burned from the inside out. The old Jamie would be grinning at him with a busted lip, cause he isn’t the type to back down; and that stupid fucker he fought is the type to talk shit.

''James.'' Trevor broke the silence, closing up his notebook. His voice was in the back of his throat, scratchy and tired.

No answer. Just the dreary beaten soul that occupied his body.

''Please Jim. Just say something. Anything at all and it would be enough.'' the older boy tried to coerce him.

''I'm not enough, I'm such a fuck up. And don't even give me the 'you're enough' bullshit, because I know you're just lying to me.'' the raven-haired boy choked as some lingering tears fell and disappeared in his untamed stubble around his jaw.

''You know I don't lie to you.''

''…''

Jamie didn't want to accept the truth. But he knew Trevor would lie to him, even if it meant being brutally honest and telling him the entire truth when it might not be what he wants to hear.

''Well.. With the shit, I pulled.. And the drinking, it damn sure feels like it.'' his self-deprecating words hurt Trevor more than they hurt jamie. He understands why jamie is saying this, but now the numb feeling was gone and he just felt a punch in the gut with every insult Jamie beats himself with, but the blow always was transferred to Trevor since that's what he was used to.

''Sobriety isn't easy, we both know that. '' Trevor had close to nothing left to give. But he would give pieces of himself to Jamie.

''I want you to leave.''

''What..?'' Trevor's voice broke. It was unexpected, a sudden kick to the throat. His whole world came crashing down at that moment.

''I said I don't- I can't have you around, Trevor. All I do is disappoint you and you give me so much just for me to fuck up and throw it in the trash. You can't keep doing this to yourself.'' Jamie was apathetic. He hardly ever cried when he was drunk, but his slurred words sounded like he was on the verge of breaking down. Sure, he was vodka-soaked; be that as it may, his words held truth.

''James..''

''It doesn't need to be right away. But it needs to happen. We can't heal like this. We can't even go on and function with each other.'' Jamie was right. Jamie fucking Drysdale was right. Trevor was stuck in an endless cycle, and if he wanted to get better, he had to recognize leaving might be the best choice right now.

''I don't want to. I can't, Jamie!'' He absolutely lost it. He wasn't calm and collected like on the drive home. Yet he wasn't cocky and loud either. He just shattered.

''I know. I know. I.. Don't want to either but we need to leave this behind. Leave this fucking trainwreck behind us..'' Jamie started to cry as he said this, holding back sobs. It was his turn to be strong for Trevor, after all that his best friend has given him. Or his boyfriend. Whatever they were.

''I'll always love you but, maybe it's not the time for that now.''

''At least… Have me one more time. Before we go. One last time. For real, now.''

Who knew words could hurt the same way being slowly burned and tortured could? Of course, they would still have each other because cutting the string that connects two souls is impossible; but maybe they have to make some decisions if they’re gonna help themselves. A lover doesn’t leave when times get dark, but a lover might have to stray so they can love each other the way they should.

Hopefully, it would be the last time. Maybe it was time to drown it in kerosene and chuck a Molotov at it. The final dance. It was gonna be a burn, a slow burn for that. Burning down the building they created from the ground up, watching each weak support beam crumble and collapse in front of them.

One.

Last.

Time.

[slut4sway]

i barely know if i’ll be alive tomorrow

let alone if the people i trust’ll stay

so all i need while i’m breathin is to be content this evenin

find hope in tomorrow either way

•

cause i got hope in tomorrow and regret in yesterday

so maybe you could find a way to forgive me

the maybe i could find just a piece of peace of mind

and carry on tomorrow

carry on tomorrow hopefully

🍃•••••••••••••••••••🍻

anywherebound

chapter 1 : escapism

tw : drinking, drug use, self harm, suicidal behavior

5/25/23

the feeling of euphoria rushed in their veins. the world seemed to spin around and around in them, the orange fading sky caving in on them and the wreckage they reside in.

trevor would lay his head on jamie’s chest, feeling his heart beat race. neither of them could figure out if it was the coke or the weed or the liquor that confused them, but the high lasted long enough for them to make it to the rooftop and mentally weep in each others arms. the early appearing of summer, no where near making the playoffs cause of their shitty performance the media loved to degrade could not come close to comparing the pain they felt when they realized as soon as they were sober they would fight again. it’s not like they were addicted, or anything. just extremely dependent to feel something through the stimulants like coke and depressants like weed and alcohol. maybe a little addicted, or a lot; but that never changed the fact they would always be drunk on each other no matter how long they’d be sober. it seemed like they were meant to be, but looking at it in a different light they were each others choice of drug.

jamie twirled trevor’s wild hair in his fingers, the ember from his joint seemed to compliment trevor’s locks perfectly. he took a long drag on the sativa, smoke filling his lungs and spilling out of his mouth then dissipating into nothingness.

“missed this with you. a lot” the dark haired boy rasped, coughing a bit from the inhalation of the herb.

“guess so. yeah.” trevor replied all dry. he sat up against jamie’s chest, grabbing the neck of an unknown liquor bottle with the label an intoxicated boy couldn’t interpret. he downed the 1/5 of the whiskey that was left, the bitter signature taste of jack instantly reminded him what he was sipping. sober, he could hardly shoot 4; but when he was bombed and couldn’t taste the gelato strain or the alcohol, so it made it east to drink whatever he pleased.

“whaddya mean, guess so? don’t you love me trev? or do you just fucking hate me like everyone else?” his exaggeration and tone gave trevor chills. the socal summer breeze dance in his hair, swaying the palm trees that towered over the rooftop.

“no it’s just like.. i wanna get out, y’know?”

trevor’s voice was growing unsteady. if jamie wasn’t buzzed, he wouldn’t of spoken like that. if jamie wasn’t buzzed he wouldn’t of jumped to conclusions. if jamie wasn’t buzzed he’d be the same kid trevor fell for when he was younger. he sure as hell missed when they were simple. now, they were contaminated with drugs and artificial dopamine releases. it wasn’t like trevor was abstinent either, he was never so emotional.

“we’re fine the way we are. don’t give me that bullshit, z.” jamie’s voice just sunk knives into trevor’s skin, and the lies he spoke so nonchalantly as if it was true were like salt on the wound. it’s all ‘fake it til you make it’ until it’s true; and he was so convincing he even made himself believe nothing was wrong with them. jamie furrowed his brows, taking another hit to numb the pain; cause he might as well kick it.

it took a lot for trevor not to stumble to his feet and jump off the roof right then and there. he was just so mentally drained, he didn’t know how to deal with himself anymore. he felt for the blade in his pocket, just to ground himself and make sure he was real.

“i know what you’re doing, trevor. don’t.” jamie lifted trevor closer to his body, restricting him and holding him against his body with so much pressure it was hard to breathe. this wasn’t affection, nothing near it. drunk love? yeah; maybe. but nothing about jamies actions showed it was genuine.

“jamie, i just wanna get better but i honestly don’t have the energy to, but i can’t leave anything behind.”

“drink. smoke. sniff coke. because were long gone from that. you’re a lost cause and so am i. hate to say it but-“ he trailed off, softening his muscles and letting trevor go a bit. if he loved him he wouldn’t have told him to do these things. jamie couldn’t even tell if it was the snow or the grass that made him sound like his jaw was broke, slurring the words he spoke.

“but that’s the problem, you don’t see it james-”

“i do see it trevor, i know you don’t want me the way i want you.”

the way his best friend cut him off hurt. it hurt really fucking bad to know that jamie didn’t care what he had to say, only if he could have him for his own to do whatever he pleased. drunk words are sober thoughts, as they say. trevor went silent. he had nothing to say to jamie. a wave of nausea washed over him. everything was unclear right now; and the mixing of the substances and jamie being stupid, stoned jamie just made him sick to his stomach.

“just kiss me one more time before you go.”

straight euphoria. jamie craned his neck down to trevor’s level, connecting their lips as he pushed his tongue against trevor’s teeth until he let him in, feeling out his mouth and tasting the liquor one last time.

but it wasn’t the last time. hopefully the last time they would do this high up in the clouds, but they both knew that wasn’t the case. one last time. that’s what they told each other. that’s not how it works though, cause they can’t just get up and go like that. sure, they loved each other; sure as hell tainted, but it was real and they might have not realized yet. some remnants of the coke trevor took dripped off the cartilage of trevor’s nose, the snowy powder falling to the indent of jamie’s upper lip.

“you keep me sane..” trevor cried against the jamie’s swollen lips, tears starting to streak down his cheeks.

“i hate you trev, but i love you so fucking much.” those words hurt. they were like nails against a chalkboard. what was he supposed to think? he always makes things harder for jamie, but to hear him say that he loves him just confused him more.

their frenzied kiss died off, there was no more coke dripping from trevor’s nose and his high was long gone and he was coming down. for jamie, he just let trevor silently sob in his arms, nothing happening besides his salty tears pooling onto his shirt.

•

trevor awoke to a pounding headache, jamie dead asleep with his hand on trevor’s bony back. he’d lost a significant amount of weight, from both his depression and lack of vigorous exercise they would normally have in the season. the off-season was hell, despite being off from work for a while. the transition spring receding and summer coming was pretty rough, especially seeing everyone else having a grand old time in the playoffs. the hangover was shit, and the thought of not finding answers at the bottom of the bottle made it even shittier. cause no matter how much they drank, they were still the same boys they were yesterday.

the rising sun isn't any good, cause all it meant behind the cheesy metaphors was just a sign he had to leave him again. it seemed like straight fire was embodied into a sunrise, as the morning afterglow of last night bled through. trevor stared at the way the dark ends of the sky and the clouds blended so effortlessly into the orange. something in the orange told trevor that they weren't done.

he swallowed back some acid-reflux, along with the lingering taste of jack daniel’s and whatever other events happened last night. trevor took a look around at his surroundings, all from the isolation for miles in their little rural town they used to get away; to the boy he was laying on. that wasn’t jamie. his jamie would have been smiling; just beaming at trevor like he’d been all good and peachy. but that wasn’t him. some of the surviving traces of the joints he smoked last night were littered around his space, and there were empty kentucky bourbon bottles and whatever else they could find scattered around the only just slanted edge of the rooftop; perched were gravity had taken them. that wasn’t anything close to his jamie. it tormented him to watch his bubbly childhood best friend turn into what he has.

how else would he cope other than bleeding just to feel? besides, it didn’t hurt anyone but himself. mutilating and carving apart his skin as if it was paper didn’t seem like much to trevor.

he climbed down from the roof into their window, stepping on some rolling paper and ziploc bags of herb on the window sill. trevor climbed into their room, almost collapsing as he got to the floor. he trudged over to their bed, as his knees buckled under him and his stomach seemed to do little flips while he rested his back on the side of the mattress.

trevor pulled out a blade wrapped in a note, if he ever were to need that note. he unraveled the wrinkly paper with some writing that rambled on about god knows what at this point, varying from why he did it what he did to every minute detail and inconvenience. he stuffed it in his pocket, clutching the razor between his thumb and the indent between 2 knuckles on his index finger. he gently ran his other fingers over the past. the past healing scars that changed elevation in his skin, the ones that didn’t hurt but he couldn’t forget the way they stung; and the past of what he’d been through. he pressed the steel to his forearm, dragging it across his skin as its jagged, used edges caught on the surface of his arms. he released some pressure as he got to the beginning of his veins, cause he wasn’t trying to die today. maybe he’ll save that for another night.

he let himself do this for a couple minutes straight. time seemed to tick into nothing, staring at the dark red, thick bodily fluids trickling down his arm. things were going back to normal. maybe not a good normal, though.

[slut4sway]

•Master list & PSAs•

‼️moodboard only requests currently‼️

⚠️PSA⚠️

Request issues 12/25/22

hockey & v-day

•••••••••••••••••••••• If any links don't work, check my AO3! @slut4sway

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

why cant i have you

Swaymark / Linus Ullmark x Jeremy Swayman

Angst/Happy ending

CW : Blood, drinking, suggestive language

if you break i won’t let you shatter

Swaymark / Linus Ullmark x Jeremy Swayman

Fluff/Lemon

18+

wrap your arms around me baby boy (darling you’re the one i want)

Swaymark / Linus Ullmark x Jeremy Swayman

Fluff, soft fic

amour sans fin

Swaymark / Linus Ullmark x Jeremy Swayman

18+

Requested

CW: Drinking

shake this frost off of my bones

Marcheron / Brad Marchand x Patrice Bergeron

Requested

Fluff

and they were roomates

Small (???) / Craig Smith x Taylor Hall

Requested

Fluff

you’re my home (safe with me)

Drygras / Jamie Drysdale x Trevor Zegras

Fluff to lemon

explicit

painting his delicate body (he’s my muse)

Suzufield / Nick Suzuki x Cole Caufield

Fluff to lemon

explicit

straight active

Marcheron / Patrice Bergeron x Brad Marchand

Short fic

requested

tracksuits and red wine (movies for two) Suzufield / Nick Suzuki x Cole Caufield Fluff Valentine's day

puckbunny for president moodboard/music Satire

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

anywherebound

trigger warning : addiction, self harm, suicidal behavior