You Can Take My Life, But You Can't Take It With You (Four)
Title: You Can Take My Life, But You Can't Take It With You
Authors: turnthepageover and americanaffair
Rating: NC-17 Overall.
Pairing: Eventual Jalex.
Point of View: Third.
Summary: "You think this is fucking funny?! You're sick, Alex! I'm not some animal! I'm not something you can just keep for your entertainment! Come the fuck down here!"
Disclaimer: We don't own them, as much as Bridjet wishes she does, haha ; ) Story title comes from Poison by All Time Low.
Masterpost- turnthepageover.livejournal.com/24842.html
Alex settled onto the large sectional couch, stretching his long limbs out. He glanced over at the monitor on the coffee table, seeing a sleeping Jack laying on the bed in the dark cellar room. He looked up at the clock, seeing it was nearing four in the morning. He should be asleep. He would be asleep if he wasn't such an insomniac.
The sun hadn't started it's slow incline to above the tree line, but he knew it would begin any minute now. Alex sighed, wrapping his hoodie tighter around himself and tapping his fingers idly on his thigh. What to do, what to do, he mused silently.
He looked again at the sleeping boy in the frame, fingers aching to go and touch him. He knew he shouldn't do that, though, so he didn't. He grabbed the remote for the television, turning it on and selecting the guide. He searched through the channels, hearing the background noise of some lame, soft-core porn on the screen.
Alex wasn't particularly interested in the happenings, but tried to see if it would do anything for him. Unsurprisingly, it didn't. Nothing did much for him as of current.
Except, his eyes darted over to the sleeping form on the black and white fuzzy monitor.
Jack was the only thing that held his interest anymore. All of his thoughts, all of his dreams. Everything was just Jack. He had slowly become obsessed with the boy. Obsessed with everything about his best friend.
Every single feature he knew like a traveler to their map or hand to it's palm. Each dip, wide expanse, perfect mix of bone and flesh. He knew them all over these years. And he yearned for more. Yearned to explore his discovered continent and declare it his property.
He had waited for so long, for years and years. He was tired of waiting for Jack to notice him. He had decided that it was time for him to take matters into his own hands. Which leads to why they were here, up somewhere in a cabin the mountains of New York. He had told Flyzik that that was what they were doing. Told him Alex and Jack needed some time to be AlexandJack.
Of course, his whole AlexandJack idea wasn't going as planned. This he thought with a sigh, staring at Jack's form. He shifted in his sleep, lips possibly moving, but whatever he mumbled wasn't loud enough to be carried into the little microphone. Alex ached to wake him up, but all his gestures where getting him nowhere.
He wished with every ounce of his being that Jack would love him back. All he wanted was to hold the boy in his arms and kiss him. He wanted to do all of the coupley things he had been forced to watch Jack do with all of his other girlfriends.
Why were they any better than Alex? What made them more deserving to be with Jack? Alex had done everything he could for the boy. He loved him. He showed him affection. He bent over backwards to make the boy happy.
And he got nothing. Absolutely nothing. No close moments, no intimate hugs. All he wanted was what everybody else wanted; to be loved by the person he loved. And, Alex decided, it just wasn't fucking fair.
It wasn't fair at all. He balled his fists, glaring at the TV. He sat up, looking down at the monitor again. Jack was still sleeping. Of course he was. He had nothing to worry about.
He stood up, storming into the kitchen. He went into the cupboard, pulling out a bottle of vodka and twisting the top off of it. He took a long swig, leaning against the counter as the liquid burned down his throat.
He squeezed his eyes tight shut and let them burst back open, but the same reality was still facing him. The same sad truth was staring him in the eyes with a challenging look. The same fucking problems he'd always had weren't changing. The same old story wasn't getting revamped by a new director. He was still Alex.
He took another long drink of the liquor.
He went back to the couch, sinking down onto it and nursing the bottle to his chest, chugging more of it down and feeling his head begin to spin.
As Alex downed the vodka, forgetting his inhibitions and complications, it was probably the worst time in the world for Jack to wake up.
Authors: turnthepageover and americanaffair
Rating: NC-17 Overall.
Pairing: Eventual Jalex.
Point of View: Third.
Summary: "You think this is fucking funny?! You're sick, Alex! I'm not some animal! I'm not something you can just keep for your entertainment! Come the fuck down here!"
Disclaimer: We don't own them, as much as Bridjet wishes she does, haha ; ) Story title comes from Poison by All Time Low.
Masterpost- turnthepageover.livejournal.com/24842.html
Alex settled onto the large sectional couch, stretching his long limbs out. He glanced over at the monitor on the coffee table, seeing a sleeping Jack laying on the bed in the dark cellar room. He looked up at the clock, seeing it was nearing four in the morning. He should be asleep. He would be asleep if he wasn't such an insomniac.
The sun hadn't started it's slow incline to above the tree line, but he knew it would begin any minute now. Alex sighed, wrapping his hoodie tighter around himself and tapping his fingers idly on his thigh. What to do, what to do, he mused silently.
He looked again at the sleeping boy in the frame, fingers aching to go and touch him. He knew he shouldn't do that, though, so he didn't. He grabbed the remote for the television, turning it on and selecting the guide. He searched through the channels, hearing the background noise of some lame, soft-core porn on the screen.
Alex wasn't particularly interested in the happenings, but tried to see if it would do anything for him. Unsurprisingly, it didn't. Nothing did much for him as of current.
Except, his eyes darted over to the sleeping form on the black and white fuzzy monitor.
Jack was the only thing that held his interest anymore. All of his thoughts, all of his dreams. Everything was just Jack. He had slowly become obsessed with the boy. Obsessed with everything about his best friend.
Every single feature he knew like a traveler to their map or hand to it's palm. Each dip, wide expanse, perfect mix of bone and flesh. He knew them all over these years. And he yearned for more. Yearned to explore his discovered continent and declare it his property.
He had waited for so long, for years and years. He was tired of waiting for Jack to notice him. He had decided that it was time for him to take matters into his own hands. Which leads to why they were here, up somewhere in a cabin the mountains of New York. He had told Flyzik that that was what they were doing. Told him Alex and Jack needed some time to be AlexandJack.
Of course, his whole AlexandJack idea wasn't going as planned. This he thought with a sigh, staring at Jack's form. He shifted in his sleep, lips possibly moving, but whatever he mumbled wasn't loud enough to be carried into the little microphone. Alex ached to wake him up, but all his gestures where getting him nowhere.
He wished with every ounce of his being that Jack would love him back. All he wanted was to hold the boy in his arms and kiss him. He wanted to do all of the coupley things he had been forced to watch Jack do with all of his other girlfriends.
Why were they any better than Alex? What made them more deserving to be with Jack? Alex had done everything he could for the boy. He loved him. He showed him affection. He bent over backwards to make the boy happy.
And he got nothing. Absolutely nothing. No close moments, no intimate hugs. All he wanted was what everybody else wanted; to be loved by the person he loved. And, Alex decided, it just wasn't fucking fair.
It wasn't fair at all. He balled his fists, glaring at the TV. He sat up, looking down at the monitor again. Jack was still sleeping. Of course he was. He had nothing to worry about.
He stood up, storming into the kitchen. He went into the cupboard, pulling out a bottle of vodka and twisting the top off of it. He took a long swig, leaning against the counter as the liquid burned down his throat.
He squeezed his eyes tight shut and let them burst back open, but the same reality was still facing him. The same sad truth was staring him in the eyes with a challenging look. The same fucking problems he'd always had weren't changing. The same old story wasn't getting revamped by a new director. He was still Alex.
He took another long drink of the liquor.
He went back to the couch, sinking down onto it and nursing the bottle to his chest, chugging more of it down and feeling his head begin to spin.
As Alex downed the vodka, forgetting his inhibitions and complications, it was probably the worst time in the world for Jack to wake up.