I Got A Hair Cut Yesterday And This Lady FUCKED MY HAIR UP TO NO RETURN

I got a hair cut yesterday and this lady FUCKED MY HAIR UP TO NO RETURN

Moves Like Jager

So there he was, alone yet again, but this time he couldn't find a reason to mind it. Roger Volkov, wearing a form-fitted tux, but his coat abandoned. He uncomfortably lossened his tie, leaning all of his weight on the table, his head in the hand that wasn't occupied by some long forgotten punch. He was deep in thought before he heard someone clear their throat.

"Uhm.. it this seat taken?"

Jack Merridew, what a sight. He was put together quite well, his red curls neatly combed out, but still having a slight bounce to them. He was wearing a black tux and red bow tie, still having his jacket on. Roger couldn't help but stare, looking the other up and down, not bothering to answer his question. Even if he did, knowing Merridew, he would sit either way.

"What are you doing anyway? I know you prefer to be alone, but this is rather sad."

"I could ask you the same, I thought you brought some girl."

Jack looks down, looking a bit embarrassed. Roger only could tell this by the fact that Jack's freckled showed bright on his face, his natural flush gone.

"Yeah, about that.. haha- she kinda ran off to dance with Jackson Thomas, not that I care all that much. I wasn't that into her anyway."

Roger's interest was peaked, he wanted to know if maybe, just maybe, Jack was more interested in someone else at the dance.

"Why did you come then, if not to dance with Julie?"

"Why did you come if you didn't wanna dance with Lydia?"

He didn't even need to look up to know that Jack was smirking, cocky bastard. Roger sighed and met Jack's eyes, challenging him a bit.

"Well, if neither of us want to dance, why don't we-"

Before he could finish, the DJ turned on a song that made Roger and Jack's faces turn into confusion, but also mild disgust. Despite themselves, everyone was actually dancing, Roger really didn't understand other people.

He was about to insult it, but he turned, and Jack was doing an awkward shimmey sort of dance. God he sucked at dancing.

But something whether it being the shake of Jack's hips, or his weirdly good singing, or his genuine smile, Roger hated the song a little less. Their eyes met for a moment, and Roger would swear they were the only one's in that room, in the world maybe.

That moment ended as Jack's eyes tore from his own, the tide retreating back into the ocean.

"Ughhh, I was actually liking that! Why did they have to switch it?"

"Because 'Moves Like Jagger' sucks, Merridew."

They looked at each other seriously for a few seconds before they started to giggle and laugh, both faces red. Jack looked back up to Roger, his eyes swimming with thought.

"What are you thinking of, Ch- ..Merridew?"

"What did you want to ask me before?"

They were both nervous now. So many questions, they both smiled with anxiety.

"Well, I was gonna ask if you would be more interested in leaving, but I guess you like that stupid song."

Jack snorted out a laugh.

"Well then, why don't we leave?"

Without anymore questions, they both leave, some slight pushing and shoving. Jack elbowed Roger, who just held his arm and dragged him along. In the corner of Jack's eye, he sees Maurice giving Roger a huge thumbs up, Roger only pulls Jack a little quicker than before.

They say their polite goodbyes before they're out in the courtyard, the night was cooler than Roger had remembered.

"God, there was so many people in there."

"Of course there was, it's the last dance of the school year."

That was right, it was almost summer, time really flew. Yesterday they were 12 year olds singing choir songs in the wrong key, and now, Roger was going to be 16 in a couple months. The idea wasn't that nice, but he tried to push the thoughts away.

"You have any summer plans, Rodge?"

"I wish I did, my mum is considering a trip to Spain maybe, I know my parents are going to be away must of the break though. So I'll just be at home alone."

"You don't have to be."

"What?"

"Me and some other chior members are going to Wales for a few weeks, you should come with."

Jack began to list off people, two of which being Simon and Maurice, and other boys he could care less about. Roger began to imagine that very trip, would he sit by Jack the trip there? Would they use the same transport? Would Jack fall asleep and maybe lean on his shoulder? Would they-

"How does that sound, Rodge? Good enough?"

"Huh-? Ah- yes, it sounds alright, I may tag along. That okay with you?"

Roger didn't realise it while he spoke, but they were standing closer now, maybe even a foot apart.

Jack's words came out, nearly a whisper.

"That sounds lovely."

Roger's eyes flickered doen to his lips then back.

".. Hullo."

"Hi."

Neither of them had to think, leaning in at the same time. Maybe a little too in sync, considering that their noses bumped together awkwardly as well as their lips.

They chuckled into the other's mouths and turned their heads, a proper and not as awkward kiss.

Just as they settled in, even from outside, they heard the music blare. It was 'Moves Like Jagger' for the second time that night.

"OH GOD DAMMIT."

"I TOLD YOU IT'S GOOD!"

(they find a park bench and snog, idfk)

The End.

Take them

👁👁❤️

My church offers no absolutes

“Everything is so fucked about me Simon, you know it, i know it, so why the hell are you still standing here?!” Simon feels his jaw go slack for a moment, utter perplexity finally filling his body like liquid in a pitcher. Why did he stay with Roger? Why did he linger in the places that nobody else dared set foot before, why did he stitch up every wound that everyone before him had left? Why did he sit on the couch that was covered in holes and smelled like smoke because Roger’s old roommate wouldn’t stop with his addiction. Why did he stand in the doorways that led Roger to a better place, only to take the raven’s hand and whisper that it would be okay, that he was here for Roger anytime that anything got rough. 

Simon doesn’t have an answer for Roger, but his heart is now racing in his chest and the frail boy knows it’s not from adrenaline. It’s not from Roger yelling at him, demanding a reason that Simon is still his backbone, even though the two of them know that Roger could destroy Simon in the snap of two fingers. 

Simon doesn’t have an answer because he thinks he loves Roger. And if he told anyone that, Simon knows that he would be killed. 

Okay guys, Moves like Jager is finished

NAH YOU GUYS ARE LISTENING TO ME ON THIS ONE

Jack Merridew to “Top of My School”

IM RIGHT.

He STRIVES for perfection, he needs to be perfect and the best at everything. He hates Ralph because Ralph doesn’t have to try, he just does something and no one questions him. Jack worked to get where he is, to be head boy, and suddenly he’s second place because of some mildly attractive blonde? No.

Jack needs to be the absolute best, if he isn’t, was it all for nothing?