The phone rings. It rings and rings and Alex wants to scream. He scrapes his fingernails over the surface of the marble counter in his kitchen, wishing it could just be over, and then the answering service speaks into his ear. Alex sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. He could just be away from his phone. Or asleep. Or playing with Mocha. Jasper could be doing a dozen things, he thinks. Alex hesitates, finger hovering over his phone screen, and then he takes a deep breath and swipes. He types a message to Jasper—Can we talk? No apologies or pleas yet; he doesn’t want to seem scared or panicked. He wants to get Jasper face-to-face, so they can have the conversation they need to. He doesn’t want it to happen over the phone.

It takes Jasper ten minutes to answer. He gives Alex a brief affirmative, and Alex re-sends his address just in case, hoping it’ll make things easier. Alex spends the next ten minutes pacing his apartment, trying to rehearse what he needs to say in his mind. I’m sorry for last night. He decides against an immediate apology; he needs to get the facts straight, and he needs to figure out what Jasper is feeling. I’m confused, and I don’t’ know who is who anymore. That doesn’t work either; Alex knows it sounds too much like an excuse. So many other things come to mind—explanations and questions. Alex still doesn’t know what to say when there’s a knock at his door. He opens it to Jasper and somehow can’t figure out what to say. Jasper walks in, looking around the apartment.

“You have a bookcase.”

“I need to know if I hurt you,” Alex says, the words flying out before he can properly figure out what to say next. “I have to make sure you didn’t do anything you didn’t want to. And I need to know who the hell I’ve been dating for the past few weeks.”

“You...what?” Jasper asks.

He looks nervous. Alex swallows past his fear, wanting to reach out but knowing he shouldn’t.

“I…you didn’t force me to do anything. I should have stopped.”

“Stopped what?”

“Just, stopped. I think you know I wanted to talk to you before meeting at the bar,” Jasper says, sighing.

“I know,” Alex says, remembering his insistence. So, it was him. It was Jasper the entire time. Alex had already suspected, but he’d hoped—he’d hoped it had just been his mistake. That Jasper hadn’t lied. Now that he knows, Alex feels hollow. Bitter. He almost wants to turn Jasper away and forget about him, but he can’t forget any of it. Not the kiss and not anything after. “Why did you lie?”

“Ezra asked me to go in his place. I didn’t want to lie, but…”

“But what?”

“But, I wondered what it would be like. He’s always—Ezra goes on dates a lot. I thought it would be nice to pretend, for once. I didn’t think it would last. I thought maybe you just…wouldn’t care, after that date.”

Wouldn’t care? Is that what he thinks of me? Alex keeps his mouth shut, absorbing the confession. Hearing Jasper talk about pretending to be his brother like it was some kind of diversion seems wrong. It goes against everything Alex knows about him; everything that tells Alex that Jasper is caring and cautious and barely has the confidence to go out, much less lie to a stranger for sex. We hadn’t even done anything until I kissed him. He would never have made the first move.

Or at least, that’s what Alex thinks. He’s fully aware he could be wrong. After all, Jasper had lied. It’s not such a stretch to imagine that his personality had all been an act. For all Alex knows, it could be Ezra he’s really in love with, because Jasper had pretended to be his brother. But that’s not true. You can’t fake that. Alex clearly remembers Dean bumping into them and all the little moments Jasper had seemed off—moments he’d been guilty, Alex realizes. Guilty, but never able to tell the truth.

“I’m not sure if I can forgive you. I’m not…I mean, I can’t trust you in a relationship, not when you lied like that.” Alex says it, knowing the words are right, but he can’t really feel them. It’s as if he’s reading off a script. Somewhere inside, he knows he still wants to trust Jasper. He does trust him. But I shouldn’t.

“That’s fair. I need you to explain something, though. I know you kissed me because you thought I was Ezra. Is that why you took me to the back? Because you thought I was him?”

Alex opens his mouth and then stops. Why? He remembers it clearly—the moment he had kissed Jasper. The...something that had pulled them together. The attraction that was there. The fact that they had seemed to meet each other perfectly at every point. How Jasper had somehow known what to do. The way he had been dancing, even before it happened.

“I didn’t do it because of who you were,” Alex says. “I didn’t know anything about you. I still don’t know much about you. Just because Katy told me about Ezra doesn’t mean I was interested in him.”

“Did you feel something?” Jasper is biting his lower lip, his eyes still skating over Alex’s face like they always do. That’s one truth about him. He seems to avoid eye contact, like he wouldn’t be able to look away if he looked into Alex’s eyes. Like there’s some truth Jasper is hiding away. “Anything? Just...a physical thing, maybe, or—”

“Yes,” Alex says, because he’s not going to lie to Jasper about it. He can’t. Before he realized his mistake, Alex had felt something. He had felt it so thoroughly that he’d done something stupid. “That’s why. That’s why I acted like an idiot, and I didn’t even ask or say anything, I just—took.”

“So, you’re not interested in Ezra?”

“What? I—no, I’d never even met him,” Alex says, irritated. Where is he getting the idea that I wanted desperately to be with Ezra? Jasper nods to himself, and Alex shakes his head, trying to remember what he’s supposed to be saying. “And you? I know you were holding back with me because of Dean. You aren’t angry?”

“I never liked him in the first place.” Jasper snorts, toeing his shoes off.

Alex watches him in confusion, feeling as if his world is tilting.

“You’re the one that decided I did. I didn’t really have the heart to say anything.”

“Well, then, what? Where does this even leave us? Do you—do you just want to end this?”

“No,” Jasper says simply. He pauses in his movements—whatever it is that he’s doing—and looks Alex in the eyes.

Determination, Alex realizes. The look in his eyes. He’s determined to do something.

“Just so we’re clear—we both felt something. I wouldn’t have gone to the back with you if I didn’t feel it. Whatever that attraction was, it’s not bad. It didn’t ruin anything.”

“What—how could it not have ruined anything? I just—didn’t ask,” Alex repeats, incredulous. “You were my friend, and I just pushed. Besides, you lied.”

“Yes. Friend. I am your friend,” Jasper corrects him, “and I’m suggesting that we add benefits. I know you said you can’t trust me in a relationship. That’s fine. We had something good before, and I don’t think we should just leave it at that. So, why not?”

Why not? Alex can barely understand what Jasper is saying. He had expected anger, sorrow, or even hurt. Alex had anticipated feeling so many different emotions, and none of them had included interest. Yet here he is, standing toe-to-toe with Jasper, actually considering it.

What is my answer? Alex already admitted to physical attraction. He has nothing to lose by saying yes; they’re both single and they’re friends. There’s no reason they can’t enjoy it, he knows. Alex may not be willing to start dating Jasper, but there’s no reason they should ignore the physical attraction between them. After coming this far, it’s not like it’ll be out of nowhere.

“If we do that, we’re going to need rules,” Alex says, trying to sound more detached than he feels. “Like you said, I can’t really trust you.”

Jasper’s mouth opens a little, as if he’s debating whether to say something or not. He glances away, out the window, worrying his bottom lip.

Alex can practically hear the blood pounding in his ears. Is this a bad idea? He’s been through relationships like this before. He’s not sure that taking the chance with Jasper is a good idea. They already have history, and it’s not really a clear-cut or good one. It would be so much easier if he had just never lied. If we had done this right from the start.

“What kind of rules?”

“No family introductions. It’s strictly friends—that’s how we mention each other. Staying over only happens when it’s more convenient. It’s not necessary to text or warn each other if we leave at night. We can’t expect too much out of each other; this isn’t leading up to something serious,” Alex adds. He doesn’t like the way the words sound; not here, with Jasper. They sound too cold and clinical.

“Reasonable,” Jasper says, nodding. “I can live with that. We’re both free to do whatever we want outside of this—we’re friends first. The benefits are just...benefits.”

“Just benefits,” Alex echoes, suddenly very aware of how close Jasper is. He never liked Dean, Alex thinks, the realization coming back to him. It makes him unreasonably happy; even considering the lie, Alex feels some strange triumph, knowing that Jasper has only ever been interested in him.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jasper asks, quieter than before.

Do I? Suddenly, all Alex can remember is his brother’s words. It’s not impossible to fall in love with a friend. Alex is all too aware that if he gets too attached, he risks being hurt again. The last thing Alex wants is to end up in another mess, where neither of them is happy and one of them feels cheated. All the logical reasons to step back or change his mind seem to be gone, though, because his ability to think clearly is slowly being sucked away. All the warnings in his mind are less important; the static between them is back, almost stronger than it was at the bar. Alex isn’t even sure he knows what it is—if it’s just physical attraction or something else. It feels like a compulsion, as if he can’t not do something.

“No. I don’t,” Alex says, because Jasper is someone he just can’t lie to, not even after everything that’s happened. Jasper nods and some of his uncertainty comes back—the familiar way his eyebrows bunch together and the way he glances away from Alex, unable to meet his eyes. This is the Jasper that Alex knows best; the friend he’d been so happy to have lunch with and talk about anything with. The person who had gradually been coming out of his shell. I can do this, Alex thinks, somehow relieved. It’s just Jasper. There’s nothing to be worried about. Alex cares about Jasper, and if their benefits happen to be good for the both of them, there can’t be anything wrong with it.

Alex is still careful when he pulls Jasper closer, his hands light on Jasper’s waist. Alex pauses just a moment, waiting for a warning or a question, but it never comes. Instead, Jasper expectantly tilts his head, rising up just a little to lessen the height difference between them. The magnetism comes back again, pulling them together as if it’s inevitable.

I forgot how good it was, Alex thinks numbly, the moment he feels Jasper’s lips on his. Something about Jasper—how warm he is, maybe, or the way he fits perfectly against Alex—is just right. They click together in ways Alex can’t really describe. It hits him like the sudden heat of an open oven, warmth giving way to a burning heat. It tingles across his skin in a shiver that he feels to the bone. Whatever is between them, Alex thinks it must be some kind of attraction that resonates deeper than anything he’s experienced before. He’s been in lust before; this is not that. This is something else entirely—a feeling of perfection that he isn’t sure he could find if he looked for it. Jasper’s mouth opens under his just a little, and then Alex is kissing him deeper, tasting, trying to memorize everything. Jasper tastes like licorice—his favorite—and something else, salty and unique.

Even if he was trying to be careful before, Alex gives up now. He stops moving slowly because he can’t force his hands to keep still; he can feel Jasper’s skin under his fingers, warm and perfect. Jasper moans in the back of his throat, the sound muffled by Alex’s mouth, and it only makes things better. Everything Jasper does seems to resonate, ringing against Alex with the clarity of a bell. It’s more than just being aroused, even though Alex feels more breathless than he ever has before. There’s a strange equality to them. Like we know what to do without saying anything. Is it just because we fit? What we want is perfectly aligned? Alex can’t bring himself to care in the moment; not anymore. Not when Jasper is pulling the hem of his shirt up.

They’re half undressed before Alex even thinks about moving to the bedroom. He barely stumbles back through the doorway, hitting his shoulder on the way. Jasper laughs a little, and Alex bites at his lip, cutting off the sound and replacing it with another moan. They’re all over the place, Jasper trying to back up to the bed and Alex too distracted to properly find it.

When they finally manage to collapse on the sheets, Alex has the foresight to hesitate. As much as he doesn’t want to break the magic of the moment, he knows he should ask. He has to—their few rules hadn’t included anything about what would be fine and what wouldn’t. While he’s sure that Jasper would stop him if he were uncomfortable, he still can’t help the compulsion to make it verbal.

“Tell me if I need to stop,” Alex says, reaching for the bedside table. Jasper makes himself comfortable, humming quietly in response. The moment is gone almost as soon as Alex has started it, receding as they focus on what they’re doing. Jasper is already flushed and sensitive, pushing against Alex as if he needs things to happen faster. Alex knows he needs to be careful; even if Jasper wants things to be brief between them, they shouldn’t be painful or messy. Not with so much on the line. Alex is careful as he works at Jasper, his fingers slow and deliberate. Jasper’s hand reaches down, and all Alex can see is the way he touches himself, stuttering any time Alex twists his hand just the right way.

“Hurry,” Jasper manages, his hands twisting into the sheets, and Alex doesn’t wait for any more directions. He moves up the bed, looking down at Jasper. The last time we were together, it was dark. I could barely see his face, he thinks. Now, in the bedroom, every feature is clear. Jasper’s eyelashes are dark, fanned against his cheeks as he breathes slowly. His cheeks are flushed, rosy and stark against his black hair. Alex almost forgets Jasper’s request, too busy looking, until Jasper inches closer. They both gasp when they finally make contact, the heat building low between them and burning like a fire. Alex watches Jasper throw an arm over his mouth, muffling a moan.

“Don’t,” Alex says, breathless. “Let me hear you.”

Alex doesn’t think he’ll forget the way Jasper sounds. Not even the sound of skin against skin is important; the only thing Alex cares about is Jasper’s low moan and the way his arms look against the sheets, tangling them in a tight grip. Alex is intoxicated by the way Jasper responds to him, like everything he’s doing is right and there aren’t any directions or words to be spoken. As quickly as they had jumped into things, Alex is losing himself in the pace, forgetting everything else until he finally blinks past stars, his breath hitching as Jasper twists his hips just the right way and coaxes everything Alex has left out of him. Jasper clings to him like he’s about to drown, shuddering through his climax as his fingers scratch against Alex’s back.

Did we really just do that? Alex wonders dizzily. His arms are weak when he finally lowers himself to the bed, catching his breath. Jasper pushes hair out of his face, his eyes still closed. Without the history between them, Alex thinks this could be any other relationship—something right and good. He’s still careful, though, if only because he knows where they stand.

“It’s late,” Alex says, trying not to sound too intrusive. The afterglow is still lingering over them, making things softer and quieter. Better, almost. “You can stay over.”

“Okay,” Jasper murmurs, turning to look at him. He smiles tentatively, and Alex returns his smile, feeling a little better. Maybe this can work. I really want it to.