mostlyajerk

Another party that he had little interest in. Not exactly his age bracket, definitely not conversations he enjoyed and always small talk. Hartley hated few things more than he hated having to stand around in suit and tie and having to waste his time making polite conversation with rich old guys. There were questions about school, sometimes they asked whether he had a girlfriend and they usually told him how much he'd grown and that was about it.

He'd already discovered that he could eat literally none of the canapes going around, probably part of his fathers passive aggressive 'only sissies are vegetarians' campaign. Seemed like something he'd do. Ultimately he just got orange juice from one of the waiters and that might have been it, if he hadn't taken too close a look at that waiter. Because he looked young. Young and hot. Very, very hot.

Hartley couldn't bring himself not to glance at him every few moments now. He'd never noticed how nice the uniforms were before. That guy even made a bow tie look good, not to mention the pants. Hartley's mouth was dry and he swallowed, gulping down his juice and setting the glass down. All right, he needed to get out of here before he became even more obvious.

Turning around he made his way out of the room and then up the stairs, headed for his own room. It felt safer here, much easier to dwell a little on fantasies of cute waiters, with the sound of the party almost drowned out. He leaned his forehead against one of hid bedposts and closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. Something in the air tonight. Something very gay.

Hartley's room was lined with book cases, with even more books on his desk. But most of the desk was occupied with tools and his most recent projects, sketches and constructions. There was a chess board, game in progress, on the end table next to a chair, but that was the only even vaguely playful thing in the room. Hartley's flute was on his night stand, on top of a couple more books. His parents had never approved of distractions.

But honestly, if they didn't approve of distractions they shouldn't hire waiters who looked this good in those pants. Hartley bit his lip as he thought back on it again, all too aware of his hand already being between his legs. He had to get a hold of himself and, no, not in the literal sense. His parents would notice his absence soon.

Hartley hadn't lingered near his parents' house. He was too outraged at their bigotry, at the things they had said about Axel, too terrified of the suggestions thrown around, ways to fix him. Fix him like his ears had been fixed, as if he'd just been born wrong. What it all boiled down to. Not to son they wanted, so he might as well not be their son any more.

The tears came only later, much later, when it was dark and he'd been robbed. Not the most satisfactory robber, he imagined, which explained why he had been beaten up afterwards, given most of what he packed had been nothing but written notes and books. He managed to keep one notebook, since it was small enough to fit into his pocket and that was about it. Hartley hadn't really been given time to pack. What little money he had had was gone and he knew so little about this part of the city.

He did manage to exchange his clothes against stuff that was a lot cheaper, but also warmer. At least by comparison. Mostly he ended up with a hoodie and jeans with too many holes in them, but the boots were decent and at least he could pull the hoodie up when it started raining. He hadn't slept at all the first night, too scared to settle down anywhere. Where was he supposed to go? He asked at a homeless shelter he came across, but while they gave him the worst tea in the world, they didn't have any room to sleep for anyone else.

Hartley's clothes were still damp and he just wanted to be properly warm, but apparently that wasn't in the cards. Ultimately he just ended up strolling through the streets again, staring at the ground when he walked past some rent boys. Mostly they ignored him, given he clearly wasn't the target audience, but some made their remarks. Hartley was blushing and he did look up. His eyes widened when he met the eyes of someone... Walker? Seriously? This was getting ridiculous.

But it still felt good to see someone familiar, no matter the circumstances. "Hey."

"Look, for the last time, I didn't leave the whoopie cushion on your chair, that was just a -- oh. Wait." Huh. Okay, that wasn't what he expected to see. James was expecting for the collection guy from the local gang to be back harassing him for money, especially since when he went there this morning to plead his case and get a few extra days, he planted all manner of gags to lighten the mood and probably instead put a hit out on his own head by accident. Sometimes he had to suffer for his art, he knew that, he understood it.

But instead of some scary guy after his blood, there was just some kid in his doorway. James looked him up and down and frowned for a moment, trying to recall what Axel had said to him earlier. He did say he had guests coming over. This was the guest? Huh. He was expecting something very different. More trashy or dodgy.

"Hartley, right?" Okay. Made sense. James opened the door a little wider and gestured for him to come in. "Axel mentioned you. The rich boy he got disowned?" James eyed him intently now. Definitely ex-rich, those clothes were second hand and his shoes were pretty battered. Though he had a nice watch. For now. James held out his hand to shake, grinning brightly.

"I'm Axel's dad. Very proud, he's my little champ."

Hartley stayed in Axel's arms, his own arms around him too. It was afternoon, still light out. They had been kind of dating for a while. Axel said he was still teaching him about sex, but Hartley thought they were getting quite good at it, together. He kissed Axel's shoulder and nuzzled his neck, just breathing in his scent for a while. He had no plans of sleeping, but cuddling was nice. Just being this close to Axel was special.

"Hey. Can I ask you something?"

Miss you. <3

Your little boyfriend is tougher than he looks. Real fighter.

I'm going to be late back.

Are you feeling better?

[A picture he took of a newspaper, showing Mr Snakeface Smalldick being arrested and also capturing the part of the caption that talks about a likely lifelong prison sentence.]

I just bought you that leather jacket you've been salivating over.

I got the scholarship, Axel. FULL scholarship and expenses paid for, I got the STAR labs spot, I got fucking everything, I can't even compute this.

Where are you, I need to meet you right the fuck now.

You got it, right?

It was past five. Hartley was very aware of the time, because although he'd turned out the light and laid down, he couldn't sleep. Whenever he nodded off, he imagined that his phone had made a sound and he checked, waiting for a message from Axel. He wanted to text him, but he knew Axel was already frustrated, so adding being needy to that wouldn't really help. This wasn't how he'd thought the day would end. Getting the scholarship still didn't feel real and right now he didn't even care.

He would have traded it all in to give Axel a chance at a better life. Start over somehow. He pretended to be trying to sleep, but all he really did was wait for the sound of the door.

I did something you're going to be so proud of and love me and we'll no longer be awkward as fuck :D

wanna hear about it?

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