You Can Take My Life, But You Can't Take It With You (Seven)
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.
Warning: Violence.
Masterpost- turnthepageover.livejournal.com/24842.html
"I-I-" Jack stuttered, looking towards the basement door.
Alex ran his fingers through Jack's bang, feeling his heart ache as Jack cringed away from his touch.
"Jack, I'm so sorry," he said. "I want to make it up to you. Will you come upstairs? I-I- I'll make you dinner and we c- Fuck." He sighed, sighing and looking down at his knees.
Alex felt the tears well up in his eyes, and tried desperately to blink them away. Shouldn't Jack be the one crying here? But Jack was doing nothing other than towering and trembling over him, hands balled into fists on either side of his small frame.
"Jack," Alex looked up, looking to see something in his eyes, but was met with nothing. "Jack, say-say something."
Jack hands shook, and he opened and closed his fists. He didn't want to look at Alex, or talk to him. His plan had failed. He was trying so hard to get Alex to give this up. He thought he could trick him into believing that Jack really loved him. But Alex, he was smarter than that.
"Jack," Alex damn near screamed, his fingers like claws at Jack's ankles. "Jack, I love you, Jack." He reached out for his hand, which surprisingly, Jack let him take. Alex used it to pull himself up, then quickly wiped away the tears and shook his head. "Let's just go upstairs, yeah?"
Jack continued to let Alex hold his hand, but he didn't grip onto it. Alex gripped onto him, desperate for the contact. Jack, on the other hand, let his hand lay limply in Alex's.
Alex led him up the stairs, biting his lip. He was trying to fight the tears in his eyes. Jack didn't love him. Jack hated him, and it was all his fault. He had hurt his beautiful Jack. He was bruised and aching and it was all because of Alex's dirty, disgusting hands.
The door upstairs swung open, and Jack's pupils were promptly assualted with pure, unfiltered light. Something he hadn't honestly seen in awhile. Frankly, he didn't even know the morning from evening anymore, his internal clock turning itself off and letting the insomnia of fear take control.
"Vacation house," Alex mumbled. Jack had seen it before. He's pretty sure that's the worst part, having had seen this all before. It looks the same since last summer, but it feels completely different. Last summer, with everyone, it felt like a home. Now, it feels like Hell. It stung, but Jack was slowly turning numb.
"I remember, " he said, tone icy cold. Alex bit his lip, sniffing slightly.
"I, um, I suppose you want to sit down. I can start dinner if you'd like," Alex offered, and Jack just stared at the blank screen of the big screen television. "Do you want some wine?"
"Sure," Jack nodded stiffly, looking at the couch and wondering if he could sit there. Honestly wondering. Fuck. What was happening to him?
"White or red?" Alex asked, like he didn't already know the answer.
"Red," Jack said quietly.
"I got the kind you like. The sweet kind," he told Jack, waiting for the boy to sit down. "I'll bring it to you in a second. I- Please just sit down. I want you to be comfortable."
Jack swallowed, taking a deep breath and walking over to the couch. He sat down on it, back stiff and straight.
Alex returned moments later, holding a glass of red wine in one hand and the bottle in the other, but no second glass. "Here," he put the stem between Jack's awaiting fingers.
"Thanks," Jack mouthed, putting the cup to his lips and sucking back the dark as blood liquid.
Alex set the bottle down on the table. "You can top it off as you wish," Alex answered, watching the boy drain the glass. he grabbed the bottle quickly filling the cup back up until it was almost to the rim. "So.. Um. What do you want for dinner?"
"Food," Jack mumbled, swallowing the wine down as fast as his throat will allow. All he wanted was to get drunk. All he needed was to forget everything. Everything would be easier if he was just drunk.
"Pasta?"
"Yeah, sure," he spoke, before turning the glass upside down and licking inside the glass to get everything on his tongue.
"O-okay," Alex said, taking a deep breath as he watched Jack pour yet a third glass. He licked his lips, turning around and walking back into the kitchen.
He walked to the stove, sniffling as he grabbed a pot and filled it with water. He put it on the stove, turning the heat on. He listened to the burner fire up, taking slow, deep breaths. He turned away, going to the pantry to get some sauce and pasta noodles.
He opened the door, turning on the light and looking around. He let the door shut behind him before he broke, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.
Alex wailed quietly, inside of his mind, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. Screaming about how he'd fucked up. He'd fucked everything up. But he wanted it so bad. It was so hideously bittersweet, to have exactly what you want and hate your desires.
His chest heaved, sobs wracking his slender frame. His heart felt like it was going to break through his chest. The nails of his right hand sought out the soft skin of his left arm, delving into the white underneath the feet of the skeleton permanently etched into his skin. He dug deeper as he sobbed. It stung, but that's what he wanted. He deserved it. He deserved to hurt.
Jack, for his part, had emptied the entire bottle and now required more. He scanned the room in front of him, but he couldn't find anything alcoholic. "Alex?" Jack whined. He didn't even give a fuck. "Alex?" Jack whined louder, but heard no response.
He stood up, stumbling into the kitchen. He found a pot of boiling water on the stove, but Alex was nowhere in sight. He walked clumsily through the room, looking around.
"Alex?" he called.
He heard a noise, and he glanced around the room. It was a soft noise, which grew louder. He tried hard to decipher where it was coming from, which proved difficult as the lines of his vision began to blur.
"Alex? Why can' I find you?" Jack slurred, seeing a door in front of him. "Alex, you in there? I need you!" He reached for the doorknob, trying in vain to remember which way he had to turn it.
"Jack?"
"Alex! Alex, I foun' you! C'mon, I need more of this amazing wine you got here!" Jack clawed at the door, feeling like a cat. Which made him giggle and meow audibly. He'd be a cool cat.
When Alex opened the door, he saw Jack, sitting down and licking his hand. "Lex, I'm a cat now."
Alex choked on a laugh. This reminded him far too much of their former dynamic.
He wiped away his tears, sniffling and taking a deep breath. He held the ingredients in his hand, turning the light off and stepping out of the pantry.
"Meow," Jack meowed, giggling drunkenly. "Aren' I a pretty kitty, Awex?"
"Adorable," Alex chuckled, feeling Jack nuzzle up to his leg. He nuzzled his face into his knee cap, trying to make a purring noise, which ended up sounding like he was choking.
"Jack, must we?" Alex raised his eyebrows, walking to the stove and putting the pasta into the water. He turned the burner down.
Jack crawled, following him hot on his heels. "Imma be your cat, Lex, will you get me catnip?"
"I think you've had enough," Alex shooed him away, but Jack came right back to him.
"Purrrrlease?" he purred, laughing at himself. He wrapped his arms around Alex's leg, sighing. "I'll give you kisses. Give you kitty kisses all over."
Alex gasped as he felt Jack's tongue run over his fingers. He pulled them away, ignoring the electricity that zapped straight through him to his dick.
"Jack!" he exclaimed. "Go back in the living room!"
"But Alex! You love cats!" He again attempted to climb up Alex's leg and knead him, but was wiggled off.
"You're not a cat, and you need to not lick me."
"Alex," Jack whined, pouting. He nuzzled his fact into Alex's thigh, making the older of the two scramble to control his hormones.
"O-okay, Jack," he said. "I'll get you more wine. Please, just please, go back on the couch."
"Yay!" he exclaimed, trying to stand up. He stumbled, and Alex grabbed a hold of him quickly. He walked the inebriated boy back into the living room, laying him on the couch.
"You are totally the best cat owner ever," Jack grinned, watching Alex return to the kitchen.
"Jack, we're out of wine. Beer? Vodka?"
"Screwdrivers! Heavy on the screw, light on the drive. If you know what I mean!" Jack added, and Alex bit his lip again. Jack had no idea what he was doing right now.
He stirred the noodles and the sauce before grabbing the vodka out of the cabinet. He took the orange juice out of the fridge, grabbing two glasses and preparing the drinks.
He carried one into the living room, gasping as he walked into the living room, almost dropping the cup.
"J-Jack," he stuttered. "Your clothes..."
"It's hot," he stated, staring blankly as he played with his nipple.
"Boxers...?" Alex gaped, quickly moving to put the drink down before he dropped it.
"It's just too hot!" He twisted and squirmed, before jumping onto his knees and grabbing Alex's shirt. "You get naked too!"
"Jack, stop!" Alex leapt backward, exhaling sharply and trying to think of anything that would keep his brain from this particular situation.
Of course, he forgot. Wine made Jack hot, in every form of the word. As did Tequila, which Alex was glad he hadn't brought.
"N-no," Alex mumbled. "I'm cold."
"How? It's really hot in here!" Jack exclaimed, pouting as Alex pushed him back down. He eagerly took the drink off the table, sipping it.
Alex sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He was getting tired, and hungry. Not to mention the cuts in his arm were beginning to ache more and more. He needed to get dinner done so he could get something other than alcohol into Jack's system.
"Jack, I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" He started towards the door, and heard no verbal objections arise, so he continued on out.
The pasta was already done, he simply put it into the colander and let the hot water drain out. The sauce was also bubbling.
"Dinner," he called out to no one in particular. Jack was unresponsive at this point.
"Can mine be served in a kitty dish?" Jack shouted, suddenly appearing, still very naked, in the doorway.
"We don't have any kitty dishes," Alex answered, turning and realizing just how close Jack was to him. He set his fingers down on the counter, and Jack ran his fingers over them. "J-Jack."
"Alex," he breathed, making the elder take a deep breath in.
"Alex, don't you want me?" Jack looked up at him through a thicket of eyelashes, blinking at an attempt to be coy, but was drunk too drunk to really look like anything near seductive.
"Jack, Jack-"
"I know you want me, Alex," Jack breathed, hot and heavy in Alex's ear. "I want you too."
"N-no! Jack," he said, setting the plates down roughly. "You're way too drunk. Y-you just need to eat your dinner and then you can fall asleep."
"But Alex," Jack objected, but Alex didn't listen. He quickly made a plate, grabbing his drink and rushing towards his room.
"Jack! Quit this, I'm begging you. Please!" Alex sat down on the couch, trying to eat, but realizing he'd forgotten silverware. Of course.
"You can have me," Jack rolled onto his back, staring up as Alex pulled a fork from the drawer.
"Eat, Jack, food. Right here. You-You can eat it on the floor. Like. Like a cat. Okay? C'mon. Okay?"
"Why don't you want me?" Jack sniffled, looking up at him.
"I-I- Jesus, Jack. Please just eat your food," Alex mumbled, trying to look anywhere but at the boy. He didn't want Jack like this. He wanted it to be perfect and romantic. He didn't want him sloppy drunk, begging to be fucked on the cold kitchen floor.
"I'm only hungry for your cock," Jack whined, giggling to himself in his absurdity. "And you want me to have it, don't you, Lexy baby?"
"Please, stop. Food!" Alex put the plate on the floor, having had already mixed the sauce with the pasta.
Alex took a deep breath, watching Jack bury his face into the spaghetti, slurping it up. This didn't help the situation he was in, especially when Jack let out little mewls of gratification.
"Mmmm," he hummed.
Alex walked out of the room slowly, sitting down on the couch and grabbing his own food. He began eating, ignoring the sounds of Jack's slurping in the kitchen.
Just as he was taking his last bite, he heard a burp coming from the kitchen.
"I'm done!" Jack yelled.
Alex heard skitters as Jack did... whatever it was he did that got him across the floor. Some sort of drunken crawl-roll.
"Fuck, your face, c'mere," Alex motioned near him, watching Jack parade over happily and sit down. "Are you doing being a cat yet?"
"Mhmmmm," he hummed, trying to nuzzle up to Alex, but he pulled away, making a face at the mess of sauce all around Jack's mouth. He stood up, grabbing Jack's hand and pulling him into the kitchen. He wiped his mouth off gently, noticing Jack's eyes growing heavy. "Are you getting sleepy?"
"Nuh," the boy answered, shaking his head.
"Right," Alex answered, drying off Jack's face. "C'mon. I think it's time for bed."
"Wait!" Jack exclaimed, eyes growing wide and innocent. "Can I sleep in your bed? Please?! I don't wanna be down there all alone!"
"Jack," Alex bit his lip, staring at him. Still stark naked, making big, pouty eyes. "You have to wear boxers."
"Can do!" He jumped up, swiveling his head in every direction to locate the earlier hastily discarded clothing.
"Calm down," Alex said, frowning.
"I can't find my boxers!" Jack exclaimed, looking at Alex.
"Okay, okay," Alex said, looking under the table. "They're right here."
He handed them to Jack, watching him pull them on. He helped him balance, and Jack wrapped his arms around Alex's neck.
"Whoa, Jack. Okay. Let's go to bed," he said, guiding him back towards his bedroom.
"I love you, Lexy," Jack said, cuddling into his neck. "Ow, my face hurts."
"That's because you rammed it into the spaghetti," Alex nodded, petting his back and trying to open the door and keep control of a very unstable Jack.
"Imma good cat," Jack nodded to himself, before collapsing entirely on the Alex's bed.
"Good night, Jack," Alex mumbled, petting his hair. He was answered with a loud snore, sighing internally before collapsing down next to him.
See, Alex isn't all bad. I know all the other chapters make him seem like an outright monster.
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.
Warning: Violence.
Masterpost- turnthepageover.livejournal.com/24842.html
"I-I-" Jack stuttered, looking towards the basement door.
Alex ran his fingers through Jack's bang, feeling his heart ache as Jack cringed away from his touch.
"Jack, I'm so sorry," he said. "I want to make it up to you. Will you come upstairs? I-I- I'll make you dinner and we c- Fuck." He sighed, sighing and looking down at his knees.
Alex felt the tears well up in his eyes, and tried desperately to blink them away. Shouldn't Jack be the one crying here? But Jack was doing nothing other than towering and trembling over him, hands balled into fists on either side of his small frame.
"Jack," Alex looked up, looking to see something in his eyes, but was met with nothing. "Jack, say-say something."
Jack hands shook, and he opened and closed his fists. He didn't want to look at Alex, or talk to him. His plan had failed. He was trying so hard to get Alex to give this up. He thought he could trick him into believing that Jack really loved him. But Alex, he was smarter than that.
"Jack," Alex damn near screamed, his fingers like claws at Jack's ankles. "Jack, I love you, Jack." He reached out for his hand, which surprisingly, Jack let him take. Alex used it to pull himself up, then quickly wiped away the tears and shook his head. "Let's just go upstairs, yeah?"
Jack continued to let Alex hold his hand, but he didn't grip onto it. Alex gripped onto him, desperate for the contact. Jack, on the other hand, let his hand lay limply in Alex's.
Alex led him up the stairs, biting his lip. He was trying to fight the tears in his eyes. Jack didn't love him. Jack hated him, and it was all his fault. He had hurt his beautiful Jack. He was bruised and aching and it was all because of Alex's dirty, disgusting hands.
The door upstairs swung open, and Jack's pupils were promptly assualted with pure, unfiltered light. Something he hadn't honestly seen in awhile. Frankly, he didn't even know the morning from evening anymore, his internal clock turning itself off and letting the insomnia of fear take control.
"Vacation house," Alex mumbled. Jack had seen it before. He's pretty sure that's the worst part, having had seen this all before. It looks the same since last summer, but it feels completely different. Last summer, with everyone, it felt like a home. Now, it feels like Hell. It stung, but Jack was slowly turning numb.
"I remember, " he said, tone icy cold. Alex bit his lip, sniffing slightly.
"I, um, I suppose you want to sit down. I can start dinner if you'd like," Alex offered, and Jack just stared at the blank screen of the big screen television. "Do you want some wine?"
"Sure," Jack nodded stiffly, looking at the couch and wondering if he could sit there. Honestly wondering. Fuck. What was happening to him?
"White or red?" Alex asked, like he didn't already know the answer.
"Red," Jack said quietly.
"I got the kind you like. The sweet kind," he told Jack, waiting for the boy to sit down. "I'll bring it to you in a second. I- Please just sit down. I want you to be comfortable."
Jack swallowed, taking a deep breath and walking over to the couch. He sat down on it, back stiff and straight.
Alex returned moments later, holding a glass of red wine in one hand and the bottle in the other, but no second glass. "Here," he put the stem between Jack's awaiting fingers.
"Thanks," Jack mouthed, putting the cup to his lips and sucking back the dark as blood liquid.
Alex set the bottle down on the table. "You can top it off as you wish," Alex answered, watching the boy drain the glass. he grabbed the bottle quickly filling the cup back up until it was almost to the rim. "So.. Um. What do you want for dinner?"
"Food," Jack mumbled, swallowing the wine down as fast as his throat will allow. All he wanted was to get drunk. All he needed was to forget everything. Everything would be easier if he was just drunk.
"Pasta?"
"Yeah, sure," he spoke, before turning the glass upside down and licking inside the glass to get everything on his tongue.
"O-okay," Alex said, taking a deep breath as he watched Jack pour yet a third glass. He licked his lips, turning around and walking back into the kitchen.
He walked to the stove, sniffling as he grabbed a pot and filled it with water. He put it on the stove, turning the heat on. He listened to the burner fire up, taking slow, deep breaths. He turned away, going to the pantry to get some sauce and pasta noodles.
He opened the door, turning on the light and looking around. He let the door shut behind him before he broke, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.
Alex wailed quietly, inside of his mind, he was screaming at the top of his lungs. Screaming about how he'd fucked up. He'd fucked everything up. But he wanted it so bad. It was so hideously bittersweet, to have exactly what you want and hate your desires.
His chest heaved, sobs wracking his slender frame. His heart felt like it was going to break through his chest. The nails of his right hand sought out the soft skin of his left arm, delving into the white underneath the feet of the skeleton permanently etched into his skin. He dug deeper as he sobbed. It stung, but that's what he wanted. He deserved it. He deserved to hurt.
Jack, for his part, had emptied the entire bottle and now required more. He scanned the room in front of him, but he couldn't find anything alcoholic. "Alex?" Jack whined. He didn't even give a fuck. "Alex?" Jack whined louder, but heard no response.
He stood up, stumbling into the kitchen. He found a pot of boiling water on the stove, but Alex was nowhere in sight. He walked clumsily through the room, looking around.
"Alex?" he called.
He heard a noise, and he glanced around the room. It was a soft noise, which grew louder. He tried hard to decipher where it was coming from, which proved difficult as the lines of his vision began to blur.
"Alex? Why can' I find you?" Jack slurred, seeing a door in front of him. "Alex, you in there? I need you!" He reached for the doorknob, trying in vain to remember which way he had to turn it.
"Jack?"
"Alex! Alex, I foun' you! C'mon, I need more of this amazing wine you got here!" Jack clawed at the door, feeling like a cat. Which made him giggle and meow audibly. He'd be a cool cat.
When Alex opened the door, he saw Jack, sitting down and licking his hand. "Lex, I'm a cat now."
Alex choked on a laugh. This reminded him far too much of their former dynamic.
He wiped away his tears, sniffling and taking a deep breath. He held the ingredients in his hand, turning the light off and stepping out of the pantry.
"Meow," Jack meowed, giggling drunkenly. "Aren' I a pretty kitty, Awex?"
"Adorable," Alex chuckled, feeling Jack nuzzle up to his leg. He nuzzled his face into his knee cap, trying to make a purring noise, which ended up sounding like he was choking.
"Jack, must we?" Alex raised his eyebrows, walking to the stove and putting the pasta into the water. He turned the burner down.
Jack crawled, following him hot on his heels. "Imma be your cat, Lex, will you get me catnip?"
"I think you've had enough," Alex shooed him away, but Jack came right back to him.
"Purrrrlease?" he purred, laughing at himself. He wrapped his arms around Alex's leg, sighing. "I'll give you kisses. Give you kitty kisses all over."
Alex gasped as he felt Jack's tongue run over his fingers. He pulled them away, ignoring the electricity that zapped straight through him to his dick.
"Jack!" he exclaimed. "Go back in the living room!"
"But Alex! You love cats!" He again attempted to climb up Alex's leg and knead him, but was wiggled off.
"You're not a cat, and you need to not lick me."
"Alex," Jack whined, pouting. He nuzzled his fact into Alex's thigh, making the older of the two scramble to control his hormones.
"O-okay, Jack," he said. "I'll get you more wine. Please, just please, go back on the couch."
"Yay!" he exclaimed, trying to stand up. He stumbled, and Alex grabbed a hold of him quickly. He walked the inebriated boy back into the living room, laying him on the couch.
"You are totally the best cat owner ever," Jack grinned, watching Alex return to the kitchen.
"Jack, we're out of wine. Beer? Vodka?"
"Screwdrivers! Heavy on the screw, light on the drive. If you know what I mean!" Jack added, and Alex bit his lip again. Jack had no idea what he was doing right now.
He stirred the noodles and the sauce before grabbing the vodka out of the cabinet. He took the orange juice out of the fridge, grabbing two glasses and preparing the drinks.
He carried one into the living room, gasping as he walked into the living room, almost dropping the cup.
"J-Jack," he stuttered. "Your clothes..."
"It's hot," he stated, staring blankly as he played with his nipple.
"Boxers...?" Alex gaped, quickly moving to put the drink down before he dropped it.
"It's just too hot!" He twisted and squirmed, before jumping onto his knees and grabbing Alex's shirt. "You get naked too!"
"Jack, stop!" Alex leapt backward, exhaling sharply and trying to think of anything that would keep his brain from this particular situation.
Of course, he forgot. Wine made Jack hot, in every form of the word. As did Tequila, which Alex was glad he hadn't brought.
"N-no," Alex mumbled. "I'm cold."
"How? It's really hot in here!" Jack exclaimed, pouting as Alex pushed him back down. He eagerly took the drink off the table, sipping it.
Alex sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He was getting tired, and hungry. Not to mention the cuts in his arm were beginning to ache more and more. He needed to get dinner done so he could get something other than alcohol into Jack's system.
"Jack, I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?" He started towards the door, and heard no verbal objections arise, so he continued on out.
The pasta was already done, he simply put it into the colander and let the hot water drain out. The sauce was also bubbling.
"Dinner," he called out to no one in particular. Jack was unresponsive at this point.
"Can mine be served in a kitty dish?" Jack shouted, suddenly appearing, still very naked, in the doorway.
"We don't have any kitty dishes," Alex answered, turning and realizing just how close Jack was to him. He set his fingers down on the counter, and Jack ran his fingers over them. "J-Jack."
"Alex," he breathed, making the elder take a deep breath in.
"Alex, don't you want me?" Jack looked up at him through a thicket of eyelashes, blinking at an attempt to be coy, but was drunk too drunk to really look like anything near seductive.
"Jack, Jack-"
"I know you want me, Alex," Jack breathed, hot and heavy in Alex's ear. "I want you too."
"N-no! Jack," he said, setting the plates down roughly. "You're way too drunk. Y-you just need to eat your dinner and then you can fall asleep."
"But Alex," Jack objected, but Alex didn't listen. He quickly made a plate, grabbing his drink and rushing towards his room.
"Jack! Quit this, I'm begging you. Please!" Alex sat down on the couch, trying to eat, but realizing he'd forgotten silverware. Of course.
"You can have me," Jack rolled onto his back, staring up as Alex pulled a fork from the drawer.
"Eat, Jack, food. Right here. You-You can eat it on the floor. Like. Like a cat. Okay? C'mon. Okay?"
"Why don't you want me?" Jack sniffled, looking up at him.
"I-I- Jesus, Jack. Please just eat your food," Alex mumbled, trying to look anywhere but at the boy. He didn't want Jack like this. He wanted it to be perfect and romantic. He didn't want him sloppy drunk, begging to be fucked on the cold kitchen floor.
"I'm only hungry for your cock," Jack whined, giggling to himself in his absurdity. "And you want me to have it, don't you, Lexy baby?"
"Please, stop. Food!" Alex put the plate on the floor, having had already mixed the sauce with the pasta.
Alex took a deep breath, watching Jack bury his face into the spaghetti, slurping it up. This didn't help the situation he was in, especially when Jack let out little mewls of gratification.
"Mmmm," he hummed.
Alex walked out of the room slowly, sitting down on the couch and grabbing his own food. He began eating, ignoring the sounds of Jack's slurping in the kitchen.
Just as he was taking his last bite, he heard a burp coming from the kitchen.
"I'm done!" Jack yelled.
Alex heard skitters as Jack did... whatever it was he did that got him across the floor. Some sort of drunken crawl-roll.
"Fuck, your face, c'mere," Alex motioned near him, watching Jack parade over happily and sit down. "Are you doing being a cat yet?"
"Mhmmmm," he hummed, trying to nuzzle up to Alex, but he pulled away, making a face at the mess of sauce all around Jack's mouth. He stood up, grabbing Jack's hand and pulling him into the kitchen. He wiped his mouth off gently, noticing Jack's eyes growing heavy. "Are you getting sleepy?"
"Nuh," the boy answered, shaking his head.
"Right," Alex answered, drying off Jack's face. "C'mon. I think it's time for bed."
"Wait!" Jack exclaimed, eyes growing wide and innocent. "Can I sleep in your bed? Please?! I don't wanna be down there all alone!"
"Jack," Alex bit his lip, staring at him. Still stark naked, making big, pouty eyes. "You have to wear boxers."
"Can do!" He jumped up, swiveling his head in every direction to locate the earlier hastily discarded clothing.
"Calm down," Alex said, frowning.
"I can't find my boxers!" Jack exclaimed, looking at Alex.
"Okay, okay," Alex said, looking under the table. "They're right here."
He handed them to Jack, watching him pull them on. He helped him balance, and Jack wrapped his arms around Alex's neck.
"Whoa, Jack. Okay. Let's go to bed," he said, guiding him back towards his bedroom.
"I love you, Lexy," Jack said, cuddling into his neck. "Ow, my face hurts."
"That's because you rammed it into the spaghetti," Alex nodded, petting his back and trying to open the door and keep control of a very unstable Jack.
"Imma good cat," Jack nodded to himself, before collapsing entirely on the Alex's bed.
"Good night, Jack," Alex mumbled, petting his hair. He was answered with a loud snore, sighing internally before collapsing down next to him.
See, Alex isn't all bad. I know all the other chapters make him seem like an outright monster.