eleveneleven [10/15]
Title: eleveneleven [10/15]
Author: asphyxiatide/marina.
Rating: nc-17 i guess.
Pairing: alex gaskarth/zack merrick
Summary: zack and alex meet in front of a 7-11, they start watching movies together, and before long, zack finds himself desperately begging alex to get a new job. bribery ensues.
Warnings: gratuitous potty mouth, horror movie fanatic (and resulting gory things), excessive girl pants jokes, badly typed accents, boys kissing, boys dancing suggestively, boys hitting on each other on dance floor, hookers, boisecks (well, eventually), condom people.
Disclaimer: as far as my characters, i just stole them and turned them gay and made one of them a hooker. movies and content discussed = property of the respective owners. plot and most dialogue = property of author/marina/me. if you got here by googling your name, please click that little x button at the top corner of your screen.
Dedications: THE ETERNALLY FABULOUS ADAM LAMBERT IS MY AMERICAN IDOL NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY <3 I VOTED FOR YOU BABE.
Author Notes: zack's impatient :B plot moves along nicely in these bits.
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
Fifteen.
As we were watching Little Miss Sunshine, my boyfriend turned to face me on the couch.
"I want to see you paint almost as bad as I want to suck your dick," Alex declared flatly.
"I can paint for you," I replied, choosing to ignore the second half of his statement.
"I'd like that."
"Me too."
He took another gulp of fruit punch. "We need to go to the grocery store, by the way."
"Why?"
"The only thing left to drink is coffee."
Fourteen.
"So, that painting," Alex murmured as the credits for Saw IV rolled idly down the screen, "was of Eric Matthews?"
"Yeah," I smiled.
"Dude, what a shitty way to die," he sighed, shrinking into my shoulder. "My head hurts."
"Yeah."
"Not as bad as having your limbs ripped off and tossed across the room," he mused.
"I guess." I scrunched my nose. "Getting your head crushed between two ice blocks seems less painful, y'know?"
"Uh, are you smoking crack?" Alex squawked, head shooting up to stare at me incredulously. "It's your fuckin' head, dumbass."
"You'd be dead before you even knew you were about to die." I shrugged, glancing down to watch as the thoughts read on his face the way they always did whenever I proved him wrong.
"Fair point," he muttered, then raised his voice back to it's normal volume, "but I'd still rather be limbless than dead."
"You'd bleed out, hun," I chimed.
Alex scoffed. "Okay, well," he tried. "What about the eye-gouging? That wouldn't kill me." He pondered this for a moment before adding, "but then I'd never get to see you again." An oversized smile split across his face and a giggle escaped his lips as he hung his head timidly.
"But you could still feel me," I pointed out, arms wrapping around his body. He curled his head into my chest and his arms snaked around my neck.
"True, true." Alex sighed. "That scalp thing would suck, though. My hair is a very important part of my look." I giggled and ruffled his mop with my hands as he held tight to my chest. I felt him smile.
"You have good hair," I told him.
"So do you."
It was quiet until Alex burst into musical laughter again and he had to look up into my eyes, arms never leaving their grasp.
"What are you going to paint for me?" Alex asked, hair mussed up into a very Elvis-like quiff. His smirk was plastered across his face like a two-year-old had just slapped it on with fingerpaint.
"Whatever you like," I cooed.
"Jesus, not this again," he retorted, then threw his forehead down on my shoulder. I brought my hand to his head and lightly ran my fingers through his messy mop of hair.
"Shh, babe," I giggled, "we can pop bottles."
"You'll have me poppin' champagne," Alex remarked, laughing into my shoulder.
"Oh, you're at this again," I groaned over-dramatically, mimicking him. I twisted away as he tried to pull me closer.
"I'm kidding," Alex whined.
"Me too," I said flatly.
It was quiet. Alex seemed to be deep in thought for a long moment.
"So lets discuss my birthday gift," he declared.
"What about it?" I pursed my lips.
"Like, do I get it in the morning, or at night?" he asked, tilting his head innocently and somehow still managing to discuss fucking me.
"Hmm," I thought. "Night."
"And am I, uhm," he giggled, "receiving?"
"I haven't figured that out yet," I admitted, scrunching my eyebrows.
"Gosh," Alex breathed. "You suck at planning things, but you're cute."
"Well, I've still got two weeks," I pointed out matter-of-factly.
"True, true." Alex tilted his head again. After a long moment, he slowly grew a smirk and pressed his lips together. "I bet after my birthday, we're going to fuck like, every day for two weeks in four different positions every time."
"That's a very ambitious hypothesis, babe."
"I'm a pretty ambitious boy." He breathed a laugh, then added, "Y'know, I'm used to getting what I want. This is new to me, I've got to admit."
"This is new to me, too," I confessed, face flushing hot embarrassment.
"How come?" he asked, suddenly very interested.
"Oh, usually I just fuck my boyfriends when they decide it's a good idea," I said flatly. "I'm not used to telling my boyfriend what I want."
"I've got one ex," Alex remarked, face scrunching into a thoughtful expression. "I never fucked him. I mean, we fucked, but I never fucked him. He always fucked me. And when I got fed up with it and told him what I wanted from him, that's when he left." He sighed remorsefully, gathering his lips into a little bunch on one side of his mouth. I simply nodded, coaxing him on. "I guess it was my fault for not telling him sooner. He was a good guy. And he had the most amazing ass." I giggled, but Alex only pressed his lips together again to stifle a smile. He continued somewhat reluctantly. "When he left, I didn't have any income, and I couldn't find a job opening, so I, uh," he laughed ruefully, "decided to use a different opening to get money."
"But wasn't that just continuing your frustrations?" I asked parentally.
"Aren't you getting a little Dr. Phil?" Alex taunted, showing his teeth.
"You're never too Dr. Phil until you start growing a walrus-like moustache."
"I always wanted a moustache, but alas, I don't grow facial hair well."
"C'mon, frustrations," I reminded him.
"Oh, well." Alex paused to ponder that for a moment. He fidgeted with his fingers behind my neck. "I suppose I was only making things worse for myself, but at least I was making money. At least I am making money. Unlike some people," he added.
"Hey, I've got parents on the east coast making bank, loser," I laughed. "I don't do shit because I don't have to. And you don't have to either, because I can support you for now. Take a break now, fuck for cash later," I whined, hands finding Alex's skinny waist. He shrank slightly, arms falling limp around my shoulders. He sighed heavily. Too heavily.
"I don't want to," he declared, after several unbearably long seconds of thought.
"Why?" I groaned.
"Because," he said assuredly, "I like fucking, and I can't fuck you, so people I don't care about pay to fuck me instead." Alex punctuated with a nod.
"That's reasonable. At least it seems so when you explain it like that."
"See?"
"Yeah," I sighed. "How about after we have our two-week, 56-position sex fest? Then will you let me pay for your shit?" My voice arced up hopefully at the end of my question. Alex just sat there, eyes glittering under the fluorescents. The Saw IV menu continued to replay for the thousandth time.
"Yeah," he breathed. I pulled him close to my chest as he sighed into it, breathing in and rocking out, breathing out and falling in.
"Thank you," I sighed.
"Don't," he declared, not looking up.
"Why?"
"Because."
Thirteen.
Alex groans through clenched teeth and he's grabbing at Zack's hips for something to hold onto and Zack goes in deeper, harder, and he moans Alex's name and Alex rocks his hips up as Zack finds his spot and Alex gasps, grinding down onto Zack's hip bones, and Alex is just about screaming, unable to stay silent, and Zack forces his way in deeper still-
My eyes shot open and the back of Alex's head stared back at me. His hair was disheveled, his back barely moving as he breathed. I rolled over and tried my best to fall back asleep, and hopefully dream a different dream, like playing bass in a famous rock band or something like that.
Author: asphyxiatide/marina.
Rating: nc-17 i guess.
Pairing: alex gaskarth/zack merrick
Summary: zack and alex meet in front of a 7-11, they start watching movies together, and before long, zack finds himself desperately begging alex to get a new job. bribery ensues.
Warnings: gratuitous potty mouth, horror movie fanatic (and resulting gory things), excessive girl pants jokes, badly typed accents, boys kissing, boys dancing suggestively, boys hitting on each other on dance floor, hookers, boisecks (well, eventually), condom people.
Disclaimer: as far as my characters, i just stole them and turned them gay and made one of them a hooker. movies and content discussed = property of the respective owners. plot and most dialogue = property of author/marina/me. if you got here by googling your name, please click that little x button at the top corner of your screen.
Dedications: THE ETERNALLY FABULOUS ADAM LAMBERT IS MY AMERICAN IDOL NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY <3 I VOTED FOR YOU BABE.
Author Notes: zack's impatient :B plot moves along nicely in these bits.
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
Fifteen.
As we were watching Little Miss Sunshine, my boyfriend turned to face me on the couch.
"I want to see you paint almost as bad as I want to suck your dick," Alex declared flatly.
"I can paint for you," I replied, choosing to ignore the second half of his statement.
"I'd like that."
"Me too."
He took another gulp of fruit punch. "We need to go to the grocery store, by the way."
"Why?"
"The only thing left to drink is coffee."
Fourteen.
"So, that painting," Alex murmured as the credits for Saw IV rolled idly down the screen, "was of Eric Matthews?"
"Yeah," I smiled.
"Dude, what a shitty way to die," he sighed, shrinking into my shoulder. "My head hurts."
"Yeah."
"Not as bad as having your limbs ripped off and tossed across the room," he mused.
"I guess." I scrunched my nose. "Getting your head crushed between two ice blocks seems less painful, y'know?"
"Uh, are you smoking crack?" Alex squawked, head shooting up to stare at me incredulously. "It's your fuckin' head, dumbass."
"You'd be dead before you even knew you were about to die." I shrugged, glancing down to watch as the thoughts read on his face the way they always did whenever I proved him wrong.
"Fair point," he muttered, then raised his voice back to it's normal volume, "but I'd still rather be limbless than dead."
"You'd bleed out, hun," I chimed.
Alex scoffed. "Okay, well," he tried. "What about the eye-gouging? That wouldn't kill me." He pondered this for a moment before adding, "but then I'd never get to see you again." An oversized smile split across his face and a giggle escaped his lips as he hung his head timidly.
"But you could still feel me," I pointed out, arms wrapping around his body. He curled his head into my chest and his arms snaked around my neck.
"True, true." Alex sighed. "That scalp thing would suck, though. My hair is a very important part of my look." I giggled and ruffled his mop with my hands as he held tight to my chest. I felt him smile.
"You have good hair," I told him.
"So do you."
It was quiet until Alex burst into musical laughter again and he had to look up into my eyes, arms never leaving their grasp.
"What are you going to paint for me?" Alex asked, hair mussed up into a very Elvis-like quiff. His smirk was plastered across his face like a two-year-old had just slapped it on with fingerpaint.
"Whatever you like," I cooed.
"Jesus, not this again," he retorted, then threw his forehead down on my shoulder. I brought my hand to his head and lightly ran my fingers through his messy mop of hair.
"Shh, babe," I giggled, "we can pop bottles."
"You'll have me poppin' champagne," Alex remarked, laughing into my shoulder.
"Oh, you're at this again," I groaned over-dramatically, mimicking him. I twisted away as he tried to pull me closer.
"I'm kidding," Alex whined.
"Me too," I said flatly.
It was quiet. Alex seemed to be deep in thought for a long moment.
"So lets discuss my birthday gift," he declared.
"What about it?" I pursed my lips.
"Like, do I get it in the morning, or at night?" he asked, tilting his head innocently and somehow still managing to discuss fucking me.
"Hmm," I thought. "Night."
"And am I, uhm," he giggled, "receiving?"
"I haven't figured that out yet," I admitted, scrunching my eyebrows.
"Gosh," Alex breathed. "You suck at planning things, but you're cute."
"Well, I've still got two weeks," I pointed out matter-of-factly.
"True, true." Alex tilted his head again. After a long moment, he slowly grew a smirk and pressed his lips together. "I bet after my birthday, we're going to fuck like, every day for two weeks in four different positions every time."
"That's a very ambitious hypothesis, babe."
"I'm a pretty ambitious boy." He breathed a laugh, then added, "Y'know, I'm used to getting what I want. This is new to me, I've got to admit."
"This is new to me, too," I confessed, face flushing hot embarrassment.
"How come?" he asked, suddenly very interested.
"Oh, usually I just fuck my boyfriends when they decide it's a good idea," I said flatly. "I'm not used to telling my boyfriend what I want."
"I've got one ex," Alex remarked, face scrunching into a thoughtful expression. "I never fucked him. I mean, we fucked, but I never fucked him. He always fucked me. And when I got fed up with it and told him what I wanted from him, that's when he left." He sighed remorsefully, gathering his lips into a little bunch on one side of his mouth. I simply nodded, coaxing him on. "I guess it was my fault for not telling him sooner. He was a good guy. And he had the most amazing ass." I giggled, but Alex only pressed his lips together again to stifle a smile. He continued somewhat reluctantly. "When he left, I didn't have any income, and I couldn't find a job opening, so I, uh," he laughed ruefully, "decided to use a different opening to get money."
"But wasn't that just continuing your frustrations?" I asked parentally.
"Aren't you getting a little Dr. Phil?" Alex taunted, showing his teeth.
"You're never too Dr. Phil until you start growing a walrus-like moustache."
"I always wanted a moustache, but alas, I don't grow facial hair well."
"C'mon, frustrations," I reminded him.
"Oh, well." Alex paused to ponder that for a moment. He fidgeted with his fingers behind my neck. "I suppose I was only making things worse for myself, but at least I was making money. At least I am making money. Unlike some people," he added.
"Hey, I've got parents on the east coast making bank, loser," I laughed. "I don't do shit because I don't have to. And you don't have to either, because I can support you for now. Take a break now, fuck for cash later," I whined, hands finding Alex's skinny waist. He shrank slightly, arms falling limp around my shoulders. He sighed heavily. Too heavily.
"I don't want to," he declared, after several unbearably long seconds of thought.
"Why?" I groaned.
"Because," he said assuredly, "I like fucking, and I can't fuck you, so people I don't care about pay to fuck me instead." Alex punctuated with a nod.
"That's reasonable. At least it seems so when you explain it like that."
"See?"
"Yeah," I sighed. "How about after we have our two-week, 56-position sex fest? Then will you let me pay for your shit?" My voice arced up hopefully at the end of my question. Alex just sat there, eyes glittering under the fluorescents. The Saw IV menu continued to replay for the thousandth time.
"Yeah," he breathed. I pulled him close to my chest as he sighed into it, breathing in and rocking out, breathing out and falling in.
"Thank you," I sighed.
"Don't," he declared, not looking up.
"Why?"
"Because."
Thirteen.
Alex groans through clenched teeth and he's grabbing at Zack's hips for something to hold onto and Zack goes in deeper, harder, and he moans Alex's name and Alex rocks his hips up as Zack finds his spot and Alex gasps, grinding down onto Zack's hip bones, and Alex is just about screaming, unable to stay silent, and Zack forces his way in deeper still-
My eyes shot open and the back of Alex's head stared back at me. His hair was disheveled, his back barely moving as he breathed. I rolled over and tried my best to fall back asleep, and hopefully dream a different dream, like playing bass in a famous rock band or something like that.