The Fugitive (4/?)
Title: The Fugitive
Author: justcici and fuck_damn
Pairing: Jalex
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 631
Summary: Jack Barakat is a rich, bitter, mean man who has everything. Alex Gaskarth is a convict on the run with nothing on his hands. What will happen when their worlds collide?
Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story, the boys belong to themselves and no one else
A/N: At the bottom :)
masterpost
Looking around the room, Alex couldn't help but wonder who the fuck this guy was. Sure, the whole house was pretty big and such but this room he had been put in was bigger than any of the rooms he ever had in his foster-familys. He assumed it was a guest-room since it wasn't big enough (compared to the size of the house) to be the master-bedroom but still fully furnished, with a comfortable looking bed, a small TV a wardrobe and... wait - was that an ensuit-bathroom?! His thoughts were disturbed by an impatient Jack clearing his throat "You can shut your mouth again now. You look pretty dumb like that." Instead of replying Alex just glared at the man, clearly not happy with the way he was being spoken to. "Well, no-one forced you to take me in eh? So it's practically your own fault that you're stuck with my 'dumb' face now." he growled.
Jack rolled his eyes a little and pushed his hands through his dark brown hair, "shut up all right?" he asks him rolling his eyes as he leaned against the white door frame. "Go cleanup in the bathroom, I want you downstairs in ten minutes, okay?" he instructs him before rolling his dark brown eyes and making his way out of the room and to his own room.
At first, Alex thought about taking a little more time than he was given but then he quickly made up his mind. He couldn't afford being kicked out again so it was probably better not to anger the other. He'd be a fool to blow a chance like this. Plus, the thought of sleeping in a nice,comfy, and, most of all, clean bed again was very appealing. And admittedly this place was freaking awesome so why not take advantage of it while it lasted? Exactly. Then, he quickly walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him, just in case. But coming to face with the super-clean-no-spot-of-dirt-to-be-found sanitary equipment he almost forgot what he did here. Well, maybe he should have expected his 'saviour' (even though he still refused to think about the man like that) to have a cleaning-lady, because honestly, this house was too huge for one persone alone to keep it clean, but he had never before seen something this clean. Not in his foster-families and most certainly not in his own family. Because even though he didn't remember much about them he knew one thing for sure: they weren't exactly the most caring people in the world. Anyways, a closer look at the nice, almost antique looking mirror, above the sink brought the memory of what he was supposed to do back. He looked like a mess. Well, scratch that. He looked fucking awefull. As if he'd spend the night in the gutter and hadn't had a shower for days. Oh, wait. That's what happened. Oh well then. He'd betterr get to work.
Picking up a wash cloth from the sink he put his dirty palm to the tap and twisted it, smiling a little as fresh water burst out and onto the dark wash cloth, which (once wet), he lifted to his face and started to scrub away at the dirty brown and slight blackening.
He needed to shave, too. He had a ugly beard which looked pretty gross on him, glancing around his honey eyes land on some shaving foam- his diners wrap around the metal can and he sprays it out onto his palm before putting it on his jaw, chin, upper lip. His clean hand picked up a razor blade and he slowly starts to shave neatly.
"Two minutes," reminds the tall dark haired man from the bottom of the stairs ad he sauntered into the right room.
A/N: Okay, once again, thank you for reading this. Comments and reviews are always appreciated and we'll love you forever :)
Author: justcici and fuck_damn
Pairing: Jalex
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 631
Summary: Jack Barakat is a rich, bitter, mean man who has everything. Alex Gaskarth is a convict on the run with nothing on his hands. What will happen when their worlds collide?
Disclaimer: We own nothing but the story, the boys belong to themselves and no one else
A/N: At the bottom :)
masterpost
Looking around the room, Alex couldn't help but wonder who the fuck this guy was. Sure, the whole house was pretty big and such but this room he had been put in was bigger than any of the rooms he ever had in his foster-familys. He assumed it was a guest-room since it wasn't big enough (compared to the size of the house) to be the master-bedroom but still fully furnished, with a comfortable looking bed, a small TV a wardrobe and... wait - was that an ensuit-bathroom?! His thoughts were disturbed by an impatient Jack clearing his throat "You can shut your mouth again now. You look pretty dumb like that." Instead of replying Alex just glared at the man, clearly not happy with the way he was being spoken to. "Well, no-one forced you to take me in eh? So it's practically your own fault that you're stuck with my 'dumb' face now." he growled.
Jack rolled his eyes a little and pushed his hands through his dark brown hair, "shut up all right?" he asks him rolling his eyes as he leaned against the white door frame. "Go cleanup in the bathroom, I want you downstairs in ten minutes, okay?" he instructs him before rolling his dark brown eyes and making his way out of the room and to his own room.
At first, Alex thought about taking a little more time than he was given but then he quickly made up his mind. He couldn't afford being kicked out again so it was probably better not to anger the other. He'd be a fool to blow a chance like this. Plus, the thought of sleeping in a nice,comfy, and, most of all, clean bed again was very appealing. And admittedly this place was freaking awesome so why not take advantage of it while it lasted? Exactly. Then, he quickly walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him, just in case. But coming to face with the super-clean-no-spot-of-dirt-to-be-found sanitary equipment he almost forgot what he did here. Well, maybe he should have expected his 'saviour' (even though he still refused to think about the man like that) to have a cleaning-lady, because honestly, this house was too huge for one persone alone to keep it clean, but he had never before seen something this clean. Not in his foster-families and most certainly not in his own family. Because even though he didn't remember much about them he knew one thing for sure: they weren't exactly the most caring people in the world. Anyways, a closer look at the nice, almost antique looking mirror, above the sink brought the memory of what he was supposed to do back. He looked like a mess. Well, scratch that. He looked fucking awefull. As if he'd spend the night in the gutter and hadn't had a shower for days. Oh, wait. That's what happened. Oh well then. He'd betterr get to work.
Picking up a wash cloth from the sink he put his dirty palm to the tap and twisted it, smiling a little as fresh water burst out and onto the dark wash cloth, which (once wet), he lifted to his face and started to scrub away at the dirty brown and slight blackening.
He needed to shave, too. He had a ugly beard which looked pretty gross on him, glancing around his honey eyes land on some shaving foam- his diners wrap around the metal can and he sprays it out onto his palm before putting it on his jaw, chin, upper lip. His clean hand picked up a razor blade and he slowly starts to shave neatly.
"Two minutes," reminds the tall dark haired man from the bottom of the stairs ad he sauntered into the right room.
A/N: Okay, once again, thank you for reading this. Comments and reviews are always appreciated and we'll love you forever :)