Angsty romance, dealing with love, sexuality and homophobia.
Unfortunatly, it involves a lot of character death. Sorry guys. But still, comment, rate and all that jazz.
Oliver Bains sat in his cell, on the edge of his bed, staring indifferently into the space in front of him. The last two months of his life had been spent in prison. He knew he was innocent, but he just couldn’t argue anymore, he was almost glad to get that lethal injection. Everyday seemed to last a lifetime, the seconds feeling more like hours. He knew he was going to die, and yet, much to his resentment, his heart still pounded against his ribs and pumped unwanted life around his body. Everyday they gave him food and water through the cold iron door of his cell, which he tried his best to refuse, but every so often he would give into his hunger and his body’s uncontrollable will to survive. Oliver wanted the time to go faster than it did because, although his death would be punishment for what he had done, it was waiting for death that was the most unbearable. He wished that he could sleep, but every time he closed his eyes he was haunted by his memories, his dreams flooded with vivid scenes from his life and all the memories he wished he could forget.
He knew it seemed stupid, but the reason he was there, waiting on death row, was because he fell in love. Oliver had only been in love with one person but, like a typical man, he wanted the one person he could never have. Too much was standing between them for it to ever really work but, although he knew this, his feelings never subsided.
It all started when Oliver was about 14 years old. He had been expelled from his boarding school in his forth year for starting a fire, and his parents had reluctantly sent him to a ‘normal’ comprehensive. He was the most well spoken, well educated and well presented student in his year group, gaining him the unimaginative nickname of ‘Prince Oli’. He was being bullied, victimized and beaten up everyday, the only excuse for his treatment being that he apparently thought he was better than everyone else. There was air of truth in that though, he did think he was better than them. The school was filled with anti-social imbeciles, the narrow-minded underclass that someone like Oliver shouldn’t have to associate himself with, and he made no attempt to do so. But there was one person that interested him.
Jake Harper. Oliver’s only intellectual equal. Jake was incredibly smart, the top of all his classes, although he wasn’t geeky. Quite the opposite actually. Jake was good looking and popular. He had jet black hair that was quite long, his fringe covering his left eye slightly. His face was handsome and chiseled and he had large emerald green eyes with long lashes, and they were usually lined with a smudge of black kohl. He was tall and muscular, but not in an over-the-top kind of way. Unlike the other boys in school, he didn’t dress sloppy. He altered his uniform slightly by wearing black skinny jeans instead of normal school trousers, his well fitted shirts were never tucked in but he still looked smart, his tie was always loose around his collar and he always wore his blazer. He had a large group of friends and had a few girlfriends over the two years that Oliver knew him. But Oliver and Jake were never friends. Jake hated him, all his friends hated him, his family hated Oliver’s family. Oliver was sure that this was because for the first time there was someone who was just as intelligent, maybe even more so, than Jake. For some reason, all he seemed to think about was Jake. He noticed all the little things that he did, like the mischievous smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he was flirting with a girl, or how his usually pale face would flush with pink when he was angry. The only time they would ever speak was when they were arguing, which was often, and Oliver didn’t understand why he enjoyed it so much. But soon he realized that he loved to wind Jake up because it meant that Jake would actually talk to him, even if he was calling him a snobby git. Jake loathed Oliver with a passion, he saw him as his main competition and thought he was a stuck up rich kid. But, however much he tried to convince himself otherwise, Oliver didn’t hate him.
He didn’t want to admit it to himself; he didn’t want to admit how felt about Jake. He knew it was wrong, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. He had spent most of his time studying so he had very few friends and no time for girls, just like when he was at boarding school. He had never had feelings for a girl before, but now he was beginning to see that he was having all those feelings for Jake. Oliver was obsessed with him, but knew he could never do anything about it, not only because Jake hated him so much, but because the school was full of incredibly homophobic boys who didn’t need more reasons to beat the hell out of him everyday. He knew it was pointless, but the more Jake hated Oliver, the more Oliver loved him. During one particularly fierce argument Jake punched Oliver in the face. But there was pleasure in that pain because Jake had touched him. As he fell to the ground to the sound of jeers and laughter, he tried to hide his small smile. He walked away from the crowd and as he did he touched the bruised, sore area around his eye as gently as if Jake had kissed him there. On the last day of school, after the GCSEs were over, Jake cornered him and said “I hope I never have to see your smug, arrogant face again, Bains.”
“Don’t worry, Harper,” he replied. “The feeling is very mutual.”
It wasn’t until two years later, when Oliver when off to University, that they would be reunited. In that time Oliver had had a couple of girlfriends in college, nothing really serious, but none of them had really felt right. He still kept on thinking about Jake. So it was no surprise how happy he was when he found out that, by some strange twist of fate, Jake was his new roommate. He would be living in a dormitory on campus, and as he went inside he saw that it was humble and cozy. It was an open plan living space with three doors leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. There was a small kitchenette with a circular table in the middle, a red two seater sofa and a matching armchair which all surrounded the television and coffee table. As he dropped his bags and looked around, someone stepped through one of the bedroom doors. Oliver’s heart skipped a beat. It was Jake. His jet black hair was messy and longer than Oliver had remembered. He was wearing tight fitting jeans and a t-shirt with the name of some band on it that Oliver had never heard of. He was taller and had had his eyebrow pierced. He stared at Oliver for a few second, his cold green eyes filled with hatred.
Then he finally said “No sodding way. There’s got to be some mistake, there’s no way I’m living with you!”
Oliver didn’t say anything. It was almost as if it his brain had stopped working. The shock of seeing Jake again had made him momentarily forget that they were supposed to be enemies.
“I mean, you of all people!” Jake shouted, his cheeks turning that gorgeous shade of pink that Oliver loved so much. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to live with His Royal Highness! Who did your parents have to pay to get you accepted here then, Bains?”
“No one.” Oliver said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably. Jake ran his fingers through his hair and shut his eyes tightly.
“This is bloody ridiculous.” he said, sounding more disappointed than angry. Oliver anxiously moved a few steps closer to Jake, his eyes fixed on his face.
“I don’t think we should fight, Jake.”
“What the hell are you – wait, what did you call me?”
The anger had gone from Jake’s face and was quickly replaced by shock and confusion. Oliver realized that it was the first time he had called him by his first name.
“Look,” he continued. “I just think that it’s pointless us fighting when we’re going to be living together. Maybe we should just be civil.”
As he spoke, Oliver was slowly walking towards Jake, his pale blue eyes studying his form, hungrily taking in the one thing he had wanted for so many years. Jake also studied Oliver, not with love passion, but with loathing and mild bewilderment.
“What’s brought this on?” Jake said, his voice quieter than before. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Oliver didn’t know how to answer. By this point he was standing inches away from him. He was struggling with what he wanted to say and what was appropriate. He had been holding so many feelings inside that he just couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t think of the consequences, he didn’t care. He had to speak.
“For Christ’s sake!” he suddenly burst. “This is all so stupid! We shouldn’t be enemies, Jake. Believe it or not, I don’t hate. I’ve never hated you, even when you were being so horrible to me. I don’t hate you, in fact I …” Oliver trailed off, suddenly realizing what he was saying, what he was about to say. Jake’s eyes narrowed.
“What, Bains? You what?”
Oliver hesitated. “I … love you.”
Jake froze. He was completely speechless. Oliver moved closer to him. His heart had taken over, he was no longer thinking with his brain. They were almost the same height, Jake was slightly taller. Their faces were incredibly close. Then Oliver leaned in and his lips touched Jake’s ever so lightly. Jake tensed up, but he did not push him away, not at first. After a few long seconds of heaven, Oliver pulled away. He was blushing furiously. Jake had horror etched across his face.
Oliver stuttered with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I - I shouldn’t have – “
“Yeah, you’re right. You shouldn’t have.” Jake interrupted, his voice quiet and calm, which made it even more sinister. He gave him one last look of malice before slowly walking out of the front door, violently slamming it behind him. Oliver’s heart sank as he stared at the door. He had managed to make Jake hate him even more. He felt like an idiot.
A few weeks passed in complete silence. Oliver sat at the kitchen table, in front of his laptop. The table was littered with text books and paper. He was meant to be doing an essay, but the computer screen was blank. He felt as if it was mocking him with its emptiness. He just couldn’t stop thinking about what he had done. It was Friday night and, as usual, Jake had gone out with his friends. Jake and Oliver had not spoken for weeks; Jake didn’t even want to be in the same room as him. He would spend most of his time out with his friends – Oliver assumed he was out at clubs, getting off with as many girls as possible – and when he came back to the dormitory he would go straight to his room without even acknowledging Oliver. Every now and again Oliver would catch him looking at him, but it was a look of hate, his cold steely glare burning into his skin. He wished he could take back what he said but there was no way of changing the past. As he stared at the screen, he thought of the kiss. He closed his eyes and plunged himself back into that moment. It had felt so good, but at the same time he was filled with regret. He wished he had never done it, but at the same time he wished he had never let their lips part.
“He never pulled away,” said a voice in his head. “And he didn’t react too badly afterwards. At least he didn’t hit you again. Maybe he does feel the same way…”
He opened his eyes with a start. There was no way that Jake felt the same way about him. Why was he kidding himself?
Just then he heard the front door open. He looked at the time on the computer screen. It was only half past ten, Jake was never back this early, he usually stumbled home during the early hours. Oliver didn’t look up, he had gotten used to being ignored so he no longer tried to get his attention. He continued to stare blankly at his laptop.
He quickly stood up from his chair and turned to face Jake. His heart raced at hearing him say his first name. For once, Jake didn’t look angry, and his stare was so intense that Oliver found himself blushing.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” said Jake, nervously. “And, well… I’ve been acting like a prat lately. I’ve been trying to forget, and its driving me mental but… but the only thing that’s been in my head the past few weeks is what you said and… and that kiss…”
He walked towards Oliver, who was unable to speak. For the first time Jake’s eyes were not filled with hate, but something else. Something Oliver didn’t recognize. His breath quickened as Jake came closer and closer. Jake’s soft hands went to touch either side of his face, causing electricity to serge through his entire body.
“You mean, you…?” he stuttered. “You actually…?”
Jake nodded. “I must be out of my mind…” he whispered, before he filled the space between them with a gentle kiss. A shiver of excitement shot down Oliver’s spine as Jake’s fingers ran through his blond hair. Their arms wrapped tightly around each other as their kiss became more passionate. Years of love poured from Oliver and the happiness he felt was immeasurable.
Oliver was woken the next morning by the rays of sunlight which crept through the curtains and coated the room in light. He rubbed his eyes and looked around. This was the first time he had ever been in Jake’s bedroom. It was larger then his own room and impeccably tidy. The only things out of place were their clothes, which had been thrown across the room in the heat of passion. The walls were covered with posters of Jake’s favourite bands, few of which Oliver had ever heard of. There was a black and red electric guitar propped up against the wardrobe. The desk was covered in neat piles of paper, textbooks and music magazines. On the shelf was a CD player and endless piles of CDs surrounding it. Oliver looked down to see Jake’s head resting on his chest. He lightly trailed his fingers down Jake’s spine and admired the large angel wings tattooed on his back. The sensation of Oliver’s touch must have woken him up, as Jake stirred and his hold around Oliver’s torso grew tighter. Oliver kissed the top of Jake’s head, burying his nose in his soft, messy hair, which strangely smelt of lavenders. Jake moved from Oliver’s chest and laid beside him, propping his head up on his hand, and looked down at him. He pushed some of Oliver’s hair from his face and smiled.
“Morning, love.” he said.
Oliver beamed up at him. ‘He called me love!’ he exclaimed in his head. He raised he head slightly and kissed Jake softly.
“Good morning.” he replied.
Jake leaned forward and let his lips gently touch Oliver’s cheek repeatedly, before moving to his neck. Oliver shut his eyes and enjoyed every moment that Jake kissed his skin. Jake suddenly stopped, making Oliver open his eyes abruptly.
“Oh yeah,” said Jake, his large green eyes staring in Oliver’s blue ones. “I almost forgot to tell you.”
“Tell me what?” asked Oliver.
“That I love you too, Oli.”
Oliver was woken by a loud banging on his cell door. He opened his eyes and lifted his head groggily. He had finally fallen asleep, but once more his dreams showed nothing but Jake. His Jake. He didn’t want these memories, but they refused to leave his mind.
One of the prison warders came into the cell, scowling, and said “Get up, Bains. You got a visitor.”
Oliver was hauled to his feet and shoved over to the visitors’ room, his wrists joined together in front of him with tight handcuffs. It wasn’t until he was roughly pushed into his seat that he saw who his visitor was. Behind the bulletproof glass was his mother, the only person who ever visited him. She looked as immaculate as always, with her graying blonde hair perfectly straight, wearing a well fitted beige jacket and her usual array of pearls and diamonds. But the look she gave her only son was that of pity and regret.
“Hello, sweetheart,” she said timidly. “How are you?”
Oliver didn’t say anything. He didn’t look at her; he didn’t even understand why she was here. He tried to forget the image of her sitting in the court room, tears pouring from her light blue eyes as the judge sentenced him to death. He couldn’t help but feel that, as much as she loved him, she was disappointed in him, that he had caused her nothing but grieve, that once he received the lethal injection she would be free from the son that had done nothing but let her down his whole life.
“It’s good to see you,” she whispered.
“Liar.” he said, his voice sounding hoarse from lack of use.
His mother took a sharp intake of breath, as if he had just hit her.
“I’m not lying, darling.” she insisted.
“Of course you are,” Oliver croaked. “You don’t want to be here, pretending that you still care about you murderer son. Why don’t you just do what Father has done and forget that I even exist?”
His mother’s eyes, so much like his in shape and colour, were swimming with tears.
“I do still care for you, Oliver.” she said. “You’re my son and I’ll always love you.”
“No,” he said softly. “You don’t love me. Your love is unconditional, you love me because you’re my mother and you have to. Only one person has ever really loved me.”
Just over two months had past, the happiest in Oliver’s life. He sat on the sofa with Jake’s head resting on his lap. He was absent-mindedly stroking Jake’s soft, black hair, coiling it around his fingers, while Jake looked at the television. But Oliver didn’t care about whatever was on the screen, he only had eyes for his Jake.
Oliver and Jake were now exclusively, and openly, together. The good thing about being in University was that nobody really knew them or anything about their rocking past, so the majority of people were very accepting of the love of the two young men. Oliver had never felt so happy or so alive. He was at his most euphoric when he was with his boyfriend. Jake was a hopeless romantic and also loved public displays of affection, so kept Oliver on his toes by unexpectedly kissing him in crowded places. At first Oliver was always embarrassed by this, but he soon got over it and relished in these moments of recklessness with the man he loved.
Jake looked away from the television and up at Oliver, nothing but pure affection in his eyes.
“Oli?” he said.
“Yes, Jake?” said Oliver.
“Have I told you lately that I love you?”
Oliver laughed. “Several times today, actually. But I don’t mind hearing it again.”
Jake sat up and looked right into his boyfriend’s light blue eyes. “I love you.”
“Always?” whispered Oliver.
“And forever.” replied Jake, before leaning forward and kissing Oliver passionately, his hands cupping his face and running through his hair.
Before their kissing could become any more heated there was an insistent knocking at the door. Oliver and Jake reluctantly separated, wondering who on earth had decided to interrupt them now. Jake went over to the door and opened it, where he was met was a suffocating hug and the overpowering smell of spirits.
“Alright, little brother? Long time, no see.”
The visitor pulled away and strode into the dormitory, not even acknowledging that Oliver was there.
“Pete,” said Jake in mock enthusiasm. “What are you doing here, I thought you moved back in with Mum and Dad?”
“I did,” he said cheerily. “But then they kicked me out again ‘cause I wasn’t payin’ my way. You don’t mind me stayin’ here for a bit, do you little bro? Just till I can sort myself out.”
“Erm…” mumbled Jake, looking over at Oliver.
“I’m sure your roomy wont mind, will he?” said Pete, finally looking at Oliver. But then his grin subsided when he recognized just who he was looking at.
“No soddin’ way,” said Pete. “That can’t be Prince Oli, could it? How come you’re livin’ with him, little bro?”
Jake looked visibly uncomfortable, his eyes darting around the room as if looking for an answer, desperate not to look at his boyfriend or his older brother.
“Look, Pete,” he muttered. “Me and Oli are mates now, okay? Just forget about whatever happened in the past. It’s in, well… the past.”
Pete sneered at Oliver and threw his bag on the floor. “Whatever.”
Oliver knew that the arrival of Pete Harper would spell trouble for him and Jake, and he wasn’t wrong. Pete was the complete opposite of his younger brother. He was annoyingly sloppy, and soon the living room where he was sleeping was littered with empty beer cans and half eaten junk food. And Jake seemed to change in his presence; he shrank into himself and was a lot quieter, almost scared. He barely spoke to Oliver when Pete was in the room, and Oliver was sure it was because he was afraid of what his brother would think. Pete was just like the friends Jake had at school; narrow-minded, discriminating against anything vaguely different or out of the ordinary. He was also very emotionally unstable due to his large intake of alcohol, making him unreasonable, argumentative and sometimes even violent. Jake had told Oliver all of this during the incredibly brief moments that they were alone together and Oliver understood, however, it did not make him any happier.
One night, as he caught up on some reading, Oliver heard a gentle knock on his bedroom door, which he recognized to be Jake’s. When his boyfriend entered the room they shared a quick, yet passionate, kiss. He could tell that Jake was anxious.
“I don’t think we have long,” said Jake. “He’s just fallen asleep on the sofa, but I don’t really want to risk it. I’m so sorry for all this, love. I never wanted any of this to happen.”
“I know,” said Oliver. “You don’t have to apologize. I know that you never meant for this to happen, but he’s your brother, it’s not like you could have turned him away.”
“I sort of wish I did though. He’s a bloody nightmare, the place is a state and you know how much I hate mess. And I hate having to hide how I feel about you, Oli. It’s driving me crazy.”
Oliver understood completely. “I know how you feel, sweetheart.” he said, giving him a gentle kiss.
“I just realized something,” said Jake. “I haven’t told you that I love you since the day that Pete got here.”
“Well, you could tell me now,” said Oliver. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” said Jake.
“Always?” asked Oliver in a whisper.
“And forever.” Jake replied before kissing his boyfriend softly.
Unbeknown to either of them, Pete had been standing at the door of Oliver’s room. He had heard Jake knock at the door as he was falling asleep and wanted to know why his little brother was in there. As he listened hard at the door he heard things that disgusted him, that repulsed him to his very core. He had heard the word ‘sweetheart’, he heard the words ‘I love you’, and he was sure he had heard what sounded like kissing noises. He had always figured that Prince Oli would be queer, but to turn his brother? That was the really sickening thing.
The next day was just like every other day. Jake and Oliver went off to their lectures, leaving Pete to sit on the sofa, watching daytime television and drinking cans of lager. But Pete’s mind was still reeling with what he had heard the night before. The very thought still made his stomach churn. As he consumed can after can, it was as if the alcohol was clearing his mind and making the solution to the problem completely obvious. He needed to get rid of the problem. An evil grin spread across his face. He knew exactly how to do it.
Oliver and Jake sat at a table in the local café. The café was small and intimate; their favourite place to go when they wanted time by themselves, as it was usually almost empty.
“I’m going to tell Pete that he can’t stay with us anymore.” said Jake.
“Are you sure?” asked Oliver. “You said it yourself that he can be a bit unpredictable. What if he doesn’t take it well?”
“I don’t care,” said Jake. “My whole life, all I’ve done is bail Pete out; let him walk all over me just because he’s my brother. I’m not going to take it anymore. I’m sick of walking on egg shells around him, being terrified that he might get wasted and go off on one. It wouldn’t be the first time, believe me. I’m going to tell him to leave, and I don’t care how angry he gets or whatever he does to me”
He took hold of Oliver’s hand, squeezing it tightly as he looked into his eyes.
“But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he so much as laid a finger on you.” he said quietly.
Oliver smiled at his boyfriend, squeezing his hand back.
“I can’t get over how lucky I am to have you, Jake,” he said. “I mean, everyone thinks that just because my family is wealthy that I somehow have the perfect life. But, up until now, it hasn’t been perfect at all. In a perfect world you and I would never have been enemies. In a perfect world nothing would come between us, and you and I would be together forever.”
“But who says that can’t happen?” said Jake. “Oli, I’m not going to let anything come between us. When we’re old and responsible, and have proper jobs and mortgages, and life gets all boring, I want you to come home to, to make interesting. I want us to grow old together. And even when you’re fat and wrinkly I’ll still love you, Oli.”
They both laughed. “And I’ll still love you, Jake. Even when you’re bald and forgetful.”
The couple left the café and made their way back to the dormitory, stealing the odd kiss as they knew they probably wouldn’t get the opportunity later. Once inside Oliver heard the distant rumble of thunder and drops of rain begin to hit the window. It seemed that they had gotten indoors just in time. Pete was sitting on the sofa, almost exactly where they had left him, staring vacantly at the television screen and occasionally taking a swig from his can of beer. There was something about him that frightened Oliver slightly, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was his broody, bitter expression, or the way he seemed to tense up when he and Jake entered. Whatever it was, it scared Oliver, and he hoped that Jake would change his mind about telling him to leave, at least until tomorrow. But, of course, he didn’t.
“Pete, I need to talk to you,” he started.
Pete was silent; he gave no indication that he had even heard his brother address him.
Jake continued. “Look, mate, you can’t stay here anymore. You need to sort yourself out rather than just sponging off me. I’m not saying that I want to kick you out or anything, but you can’t stay here forever. Sorry.”
Pete said nothing for a while, and then muttered “Oh, I bet you’re sorry, little brother.”
He stood up, throwing the now empty can aside, and glared at the two men in front of him.
“I know why you’re gettin’ rid of me,” he said. “I know exactly why. It’s ‘cause of him”
He focused his stare at Oliver, stepping closer towards him, his fists clenched. Oliver tried his very best not to look as afraid as he was inside.
“It’s got nothing to do with Oli,” said Jake.
“Course it does,” said Pete, his voice sounding cold. “It’s got everythin’ to do with that piece of scum. I should have known somethin’ was up by how nice you were bein’ to each other, how weird you were actin’. But then last night it finally started to make sense.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t act all innocent, Jake! I know you went in his room when you thought I was sleepin’, I heard all that stuff you two were sayin’, about lovin’ each other! It was disgustin’, I’m ashamed to even be related to filth like you!”
His feral, bloodshot eyes seemed to flare, and the low roar of thunder from outside could have come from him. He looked like a wild animal, ready to attack whoever came too close. Oliver’s heart was furiously throwing itself against his ribs and Jake was visibly trembling, but he managed to pull himself together, at least on the outside, and confront his older brother.
“Okay,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “So I’m with Oli now, I know you don’t approve but that’s just the way things are. I’m not going to let you come between us, Pete.”
Pete stared at the both of them for awhile, his eyes surprisingly focused considering how intoxicated he now was.
“And what have you got to say for yourself then, HRH?” he said, turning on Oliver. “Any reason why you decided to turn my little brother into a filthy little bender like you?”
He came right up close to him, so close that Oliver could smell the alcohol on his breathe. He didn’t want to show how terrified he was, but at the same time he was feeling angry at Pete for being so ignorant and hostile for no good reason. A part of Oliver wanted to hit Pete before he was hit himself. But another part of him, a much larger part, wanted to run away. He tried to think of some kind of response, but nothing came to him.
“Oh, nothin’ to say then, eh?” sneered Pete, before he raised his fist and punched Oliver in the face, so hard that he stumbled to the ground. Before he could comprehend what had happened, he received a swift kick to the stomach and another to the side of his torso.
“Pete, stop!” cried Jake, trying in vain to hold his brother back. But his attempts suddenly stopped, and he stepped back several paces, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Pete, don’t…” he said desperately. “Put – put the gun down.”
“Don’t make me do this, little brother. It’s not you I want to hurt, it’s him. He’s the problem. By gettin’ rid of him, the problem’ll be gone, wont it? Everything will be fine once he’s out the way.”
He said it as if it were a perfectly reasonable explanation that Jake was sure to agree with. Oliver managed to stand, swaying slightly as he wiped the blood from his mouth. Pete immediately pointed the gun at Oliver’s head, mad determination imprinted across his face. Oliver’s breathe caught in his throat as he backed into the kitchen table. Something strange possessed him then, something a lot like courage. He wasn’t going to die, not now, not like this. As if in slow motion, he grabbed hold of the gun and pointed it above. A slit second later the gun fired and a hole was blown into the ceiling, making dust fall over them. Jake leapt forward and also tried to grab the gun. Three pairs of hands were fighting over it, one trying to keep hold and the other two trying to take it. The barrel of the gun pointed dangerously in every direction. Jake was pushed out of the struggle temporarily as he was shoved by his brother, and then –
There was an ear-splitting bang as the gun fired once more. Two pairs of hands let go of the weapon, letting it fall to the floor. Jake clutched his stomach and looked down at his bloodstained t-shirt in shock. Pete back away in horror, but Oliver came closer. Jake began to fall, but Oliver caught him and lowered him slowly to the ground, holding him tight, his face streaked with tears.
“I… love you… Oli…” Jake breathed.
“No,” begged Oliver, sobbing. “Don’t say that. D - Don’t talk like that. You’re – you’re going to be f – fine.”
But he knew it wasn’t true. Jake seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness, his breathing was slow and heavy.
“No…” Oliver whispered through the tears. “…no… Jake, don’t leave me. St - Stay awake. Please, just stay awake… I – I love you, please don’t leave me…”
“…Oli.” Jake murmured, before those brilliant green eyes darkened and he breathed no more.
The whole world seemed to stop. The rain outside was getting heavier, but Oliver couldn’t hear it; he couldn’t hear anything. It was like something inside him was falling, falling until emptiness was all that was left.
“…no,” he whispered as he wept, shaking his head in disbelief. “…no…Jake…”
Tears rained down from his eyes, dripping onto Jake’s lifeless face, as Oliver cradled him in his arms, his clothes becoming stained with blood. It couldn’t be real, Jake couldn’t be – he didn’t even want to think it. But it was true, Jake was gone, and their future together was gone too. As he cried, Oliver felt as if his heart had been ripped out, his life line had been severed. He didn’t have anything to live for anymore. He placed one last kiss onto Jake’s cold lips, knowing that he never would again.
But then he was suddenly aware that someone else was in the room. The grief he was feeling was suddenly replaced with a much more overwhelming emotion; anger. Pete was still standing there, frozen and trembling at the realization of what had just happened. Oliver stared at him and felt nothing but hatred, and a burning desire for revenge. The gun still lay on the floor where it fell, close to where Oliver sat. He very carefully rested Jake’s head on the floor. Pete realized what was going on and moved forward towards the gun, but he just wasn’t quick enough. Oliver’s hand got there first and, blinded by grief and rage, he aimed the gun and Pete’s chest and fired it until every bullet was gone, screaming away his anger as he did. Pete fell where he stood, like a blood soaked ragdoll, with a dull thud. Fresh tears fell from Oliver’s eyes as he lowered the gun to the floor, leaving it there and going back to Jake’s body. He held his boyfriend in his arms, kissing his forehead, and wishing more than anything that he hadn’t used every last bullet, that he could be exactly where his Jake was now.
Oliver was incredibly cooperative as the prison wardens led him, handcuffed, to the place of execution. He had even thanked them for finally taking him there, and he gave no sign of a struggle as they strapped him down to the bed by his wrists and ankles. These were the very last moments of his life, his very last steps, his very last actions, his very last breaths. Although on the exterior he was calm and ready, his heart was beating rapidly, determined it seemed to get as many beats in as possible before it was stopped for good. But he didn’t feel nervous at all. He welcomed death. If anything, he was annoyed that it hadn’t come sooner. Death would mean an escape from the life that had caused him nothing but tragedy. Death would mean he would be back with his Jake and he would finally be at peace. He caught sight of the lethal injection itself and, for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he actually smiled. As the syringe was lowered to his forearm and the needle was pushed into his skin, he thought only of Jake; of his beautiful green eyes, the way his hair smelt of lavenders for some reason, how he used to call him ‘love’, and how perfect and incredible it was to wake up next to him in the morning.
That was almost exactly what dying felt like. As the deadly poison was injected into his veins it felt as if he were falling into a deep and dreamless sleep, where everything slowed down, and everything faded away. Any negative emotions he had seemed to pour out of his body, leaving him empty of everything but happiness. He appeared to be floating in nowhere, in nothing but darkness. After a few seconds, or it could have been hours, or months, or even years, he opened his eyes once more. He smiled as he recognized the posters on the walls, the black and red guitar by the wardrobe and the neat stacks of CDs on the shelf. He turned his head and was overcome by the sight of Jake – his Jake – staring back at him, his dazzling green eyes shining in the morning sun and the biggest, warmest smile on his face. He took hold of Oliver’s hand, squeezing it tightly as if to prove he was really there.
“Bloody hell, Oli. What took you so long?”