greatamazingfeelingsboy

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alex stern

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Jan 28th?

Caleb sprawls on Alex's couch, exhausted and sore and slightly frustrated. He'd gone to the gym with some of the guys from the team, and it'd proved... trying. Clint kept looking at him, which in and of itself isn't a problem. The problem was that he kept getting slightly aroused, at random times, while looking at Caleb. Which meant Caleb worked out harder, which meant Clint stared more, which meant that Clint got aroused more, and by the end of the two hours, he was so fucking tired and sore from trying to work out the feelings he kept getting.

He'd already showered at his place, but he'd promised Alex he'd swing over after the gym, since his place isn't warded against Grays. He likes hanging out with her, and he likes that there aren't any butterflies between them. It's nice to just... have a friend.

Which he realizes isn't fair to Rosie, who's easily one of his closest friends here. But she's so busy with her boyfriend and school that sometimes he doesn't get to just hang out with her. Last week doesn't entirely count, because he'd been a mess.

"Kill me," he mumbles into the couch cushion his face is pressed against.

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"So black is...what? Anxiety? Guilt?" She turns her head to look at him. "And pink is...not feeling either of those?"

"In this case, pink is relief," he says. He grabs his tea, newly filled with her own, and takes a sip. The fact that it's gone cold doesn't bother him. It just reminds him of any time he's had it in a flask at a party. "You're relieved that talking about Adam not being here hasn't fucked up our friendship. It's not as tenuous as you think it is, you know," he adds, pulling out an Adam-worthy vocab word.

"You're clearly underestimating how good I am at fucking things up," she says, arching one eyebrow as she takes a sip of her soda. There's still more space between them than there was before. No matter how much relief she's feeling, she's having a hard time relaxing her shoulders. "I don't keep friends well."

Look at the fucking mess than is her and Darlington right now.

"You mean non-Darrow Alex Stern didn't keep friends well," Caleb says. The popping coming from the kitchen is reaching a crescendo, so Caleb stands and makes his way back over to grab the bag.

"Bowls?" he calls, then grabs one when she tells him where they are. As soon as he's finished dumping the bag into the bowl, he gets another bag in the microwave.

Once the second bag is done, he adds it to the bowl and joins her on the couch.

"No version of Alex Stern to date has been great at it," she says, watching him move around in her space. When he sits down, she's still curled away from him against the arm of the sofa, but at least she turns her body towards him a little.

"Well, I'm not exactly an expert," he says. He sits facing her, stretching his leg out so his foot bumps hers. "I've only ever had the one boyfriend, but, uh, talking usually helps?"

He shrugs, tossing a handful of popcorn into his mouth. He doesn't offer to share: if she wants any, she'll have to come get it.

His foot bumps hers and Alex smiles, just a flicker before it's gone.

"Yeah, me too," she says. "Boyfriend, I mean." She's not even sure that Len counted as a boyfriend, not really.

"Well, it's pretty obvious to me that you two like each other," he says. "So I don't see why you guys couldn't make it work, y'know?"

"I'm not talking about Darlington," she says, looking over at him. "And maybe it's obvious to you. I usually just feel like he's tolerating me."

"I know you're not. It's a totally different feeling from that. But I'm talking about him. And he's definitely not just tolerating you. He's probably just not good at talking about his feelings." Caleb's one to talk, but he's getting better, at least.

"Oh, he's very good at talking about his fucking feelings, believe me," says Alex, sighing elaborately. "Did you get butterflies off him, too?"

"I might've," he says, and tosses a piece of popcorn at her. "I feel like I shouldn't say. Like I'm breaking some unspoken rule, or something."

She rolls her eyes at him, picking up the popcorn and biting into her mouth.

"Not even if it'll make me feel better. C'mon, Caleb. You're my best fucking friend around here. Other than him and...well...you know how that's going."

Something warm blooms in his chest when she says he's her best friend. It brings a blush to his cheeks and he smiles a little.

"Yes, okay? It was kinda hard to feel under the rest of it, but they were definitely there when we talked about you."

A smile tugs at the corner of Alex's mouth and she has to fight the urge to cover her face with her hands.

"Now we just have to...stop being fucking idiots, I guess?" She sighs and shifts, slightly, leaning her shoulder against his.

"Yeah, well," he says, leaning into the contact. "I just hope he's not gonna be an asshole again." He settles the bowl between them so they can more comfortably share.

"We're both assholes," she says, picking up some popcorn and popping it into her mouth one kernel at a time. "Just he's a New Haven asshole and I'm from California."

"You're not an asshole," he argues. "I mean, I think you believe you are, because it doesn't feel like a lie, but you haven't been an asshole to me."

"Not yet," she says, shifting to nudge him gently with her shoulder. "But give me time, okay? I can fuck anything up, given enough time."

"Oh shut up," he says. "With that attitude, you're bound to, y'know? Like... That's something I feel and see a lot. People with shitty outlooks tend to do or experience shitty things."

That might as well be the story of Alex Stern's entire fucking life. Nothing's ever gone right, but, then again, why would it have when she was poison from the start? She scrubs one hand back through her hair.

"Maybe it's not as clean cut as you think it is, Caleb," she says.

He tilts his head a little, and he narrows his eyes. "Wait, why are you disappointed in yourself?" he asks.

"Because I've done a lot of things that nobody would be proud of," she says. "I keep telling myself that I'm going to be Darrow Alex but that...doesn't scrub everything clean, does it?"

There's no point in trying to lie to him, which might mean having to tell him the whole truth. That feels like it'd be both terrifying and kind of freeing at the same time.

"I mean... I guess it doesn't," he says, thinking about what he'd done to Damien, how he'll always carry that with him. "But... you just gotta keep that stuff, and learn from it, right? Learn not to do it again, or... or the only reason you should do it again. Whatever it was."

"Believe me," she says. "You would not want to be sitting on a couch with me eating popcorn if you know the whole of it."