eleveneleven [11/15]
Title: eleveneleven [11/15]
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 cab. because they make me dance sexily in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom like no other band can. except for maybe breathe carolina, depending on the mood i'm in.
Author Notes: i finally downloaded put up or shut up and itunes gave me the video for coffee shop soundtrack with it... and my life will never be the same. also my posts are getting big and ugly so no more convenient line breaks between old chapters. sryguise.
chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five chapter six chapter seven chapter eight chapter nine chapter ten
Twelve.
"It's harder than it looks," I admitted as I ran the brush across the canvas. "I'm only doing acrylics because I prefer to do watercolors flat, and you can't really watch me over my shoulder like that."
"It's fine," Alex cooed. He sank further into the bed, falling over onto the pillow. "You're more inspiring to me than exploding heads, to be honest."
"Is that a compliment?" I giggled. I gathered more red paint onto my brush, shoving a glob into the white paint next to it.
"Of course," he laughed. I snatched the bottle of yellow and added a drop to the red and white. "What's yellow?" he asked.
"Nothing, I think," I said blankly. I mixed the colors and began painting the remnants of her neck.
"I would consult the internet if you let me use your laptop, freak."
"Hey," I whined, turning to glare at him. "I have things on there that you do not need to see."
"What, your subscription to Dick-tastic Debacle?" he taunted, and I went to throw the brush at him but decided against having to clean acrylic paint out of my sheets.
"I would share my subscription to Dick-tastic Debacle if I had one, but alas, I'd rather not have that come on my parents' credit card." I turned back to the painting and shaded in her clavicles.
"You'd rather have them come on you," Alex remarked, and I got the thought that I really should've expected that as the obnoxious smirk immediately stretches across his face.
"Shut the fuck up," I retorted, glaring at him over my shoulder.
"You're only pissed 'cause I'm right."
"Just a little," I admitted. I rinsed the brush and went for the red paint, messily wiping it across where her head should be.
"Gosh, we're discussing gay sex and you're painting a picture of Lynn Denlon's bloody neck stump."
"Yeah, we're pretty weird."
"Either weird, or awesome."
"Lets go with awesome," I breathed, leaning in the get more detail in the spine.
Alex fell silent as I continued to add layers and layers of paint. After a few minutes of quiet, I began to paint like I did when I was alone. I leaned in closer, made funny facial expressions, hummed a little tune, stepped back to get a better look. When I finally figured that I was done, I glanced down at Alex to find him sleeping, dewy eyelids delicately shut. The right side of his face was tucked perfectly into the pillow.
I leaned down to press my lips against his cheek.
"If it wasn't for you, I would've gone back to Maryland by now," I whispered.
Eleven.
The kitchen was too quiet. Alex idly tapped his fingers down the side of the glass, then eventually tried to say words.
"So, uh," he murmured, "what's in Maryland?"
"My parents," I replied. "Fish, too, actually, but that's about it."
"Oh." Alex sighed and took a tentative sip of his fruit punch. "Well, why would someone want to be in Maryland?"
"Family," I guessed. "The weather's nice, too. I guess if you like fish." Alex faked a giggle.
"Yeah." He sighed. "Do you like fish?"
"It's alright," I mumbled.
"Okay," he breathed, then his bangs fell into his eyes as he tilted his head down.
"Why do you ask, beebs?" I wondered, stepping into the living room and putting my coffee on the table.
"Just wondering," he whispered. Alex sat on the couch as I put Fight Club into the DVD player. My mind buzzed and my stomach churned.
Idiot. Fucking idiot.
Ten.
"I'm making bank," Alex declared, throwing a pile of cash down on the table.
"You're making bank because it's Friday night," I mumbled.
"Well, it's nearly Saturday morning." Alex put his hands on his hips. I hid behind my coffee cup and pretended to be invisible. "C'mon, babe," he tried.
"I don't like you fucking other people," I murmured hesitantly, fingers gripping tighter.
"Well, you're not fucking me," he retorted. He grabbed the cash off the table and waved it in my face. My eyes fluttered shut. "It's all twenties and hundreds, Zack. Fuck off." Alex shoved it into his pocket and swiftly moved behind the curtain, sweeping it shut.
Nine.
"Any luck finding an apartment?" I asked.
Alex nearly spit out his mouthful of iced tea.
"I haven't looked," he gasped, clearing his throat and clanking the glass onto the table.
"Here's last Sunday's paper," I murmured, dropping it next to his glass. Alex eyed it as it glared up at him, headline reading Home and Garden.
"You mean..." he breathed, "I can't stay here?"
"You just wanted to stay here 'til you found a more permanent place," I reminded him.
"Yeah, but," Alex tried. He huffed out a gush of air with no words in it.
"But what?"
"I changed my mind," he muttered, desperately looking up at me.
I stared down at Alex. I couldn't say no, not with the look in his eyes, like he might shatter into a trillion pieces and collapse onto my floor and I would have to sweep him out from under the couch and pick him out of the cushions.
"Fine." I picked up the paper, glanced at the front page, and tossed it into the recycling pile. Alex relaxed noticeably, eyes still hanging onto a glimmer of hurt. I sifted through the DVDs in the cabinet and eventually settled on Encino Man.
"Thank you," Alex whispered.
"Don't worry about it," I replied. "I like having you around." I gave my best cute grin and Alex's cheeks flushed pink.
"I like being around you," he mumbled, staring straight down. I leaned in, nudged his face up with my nose until his was touching mine, and lightly pressed my lips against his. He softly pushed back. I didn't move, just pulled my lips away. Alex left his forehead resting against mine as he giggled quietly.
"I don't want you to leave," I barely breathed, eyes still shut.
"I don't want you to kick me out," he muttered.
"And I don't want you to get a new apartment," I continued.
"Neither do I."
"And I don't want you to fuck another man after December fourteenth."
"Neither do I," he laughed, then tilted in for another kiss. His hand found my hair and his fingers threaded in the curls.
"Movie," I reminded him, pulling away.
"Okay." Alex curled onto the couch and rested in my lap again, just like that first day when we had watched Brokeback Mountain.
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 cab. because they make me dance sexily in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom like no other band can. except for maybe breathe carolina, depending on the mood i'm in.
Author Notes: i finally downloaded put up or shut up and itunes gave me the video for coffee shop soundtrack with it... and my life will never be the same. also my posts are getting big and ugly so no more convenient line breaks between old chapters. sryguise.
chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five chapter six chapter seven chapter eight chapter nine chapter ten
Twelve.
"It's harder than it looks," I admitted as I ran the brush across the canvas. "I'm only doing acrylics because I prefer to do watercolors flat, and you can't really watch me over my shoulder like that."
"It's fine," Alex cooed. He sank further into the bed, falling over onto the pillow. "You're more inspiring to me than exploding heads, to be honest."
"Is that a compliment?" I giggled. I gathered more red paint onto my brush, shoving a glob into the white paint next to it.
"Of course," he laughed. I snatched the bottle of yellow and added a drop to the red and white. "What's yellow?" he asked.
"Nothing, I think," I said blankly. I mixed the colors and began painting the remnants of her neck.
"I would consult the internet if you let me use your laptop, freak."
"Hey," I whined, turning to glare at him. "I have things on there that you do not need to see."
"What, your subscription to Dick-tastic Debacle?" he taunted, and I went to throw the brush at him but decided against having to clean acrylic paint out of my sheets.
"I would share my subscription to Dick-tastic Debacle if I had one, but alas, I'd rather not have that come on my parents' credit card." I turned back to the painting and shaded in her clavicles.
"You'd rather have them come on you," Alex remarked, and I got the thought that I really should've expected that as the obnoxious smirk immediately stretches across his face.
"Shut the fuck up," I retorted, glaring at him over my shoulder.
"You're only pissed 'cause I'm right."
"Just a little," I admitted. I rinsed the brush and went for the red paint, messily wiping it across where her head should be.
"Gosh, we're discussing gay sex and you're painting a picture of Lynn Denlon's bloody neck stump."
"Yeah, we're pretty weird."
"Either weird, or awesome."
"Lets go with awesome," I breathed, leaning in the get more detail in the spine.
Alex fell silent as I continued to add layers and layers of paint. After a few minutes of quiet, I began to paint like I did when I was alone. I leaned in closer, made funny facial expressions, hummed a little tune, stepped back to get a better look. When I finally figured that I was done, I glanced down at Alex to find him sleeping, dewy eyelids delicately shut. The right side of his face was tucked perfectly into the pillow.
I leaned down to press my lips against his cheek.
"If it wasn't for you, I would've gone back to Maryland by now," I whispered.
Eleven.
The kitchen was too quiet. Alex idly tapped his fingers down the side of the glass, then eventually tried to say words.
"So, uh," he murmured, "what's in Maryland?"
"My parents," I replied. "Fish, too, actually, but that's about it."
"Oh." Alex sighed and took a tentative sip of his fruit punch. "Well, why would someone want to be in Maryland?"
"Family," I guessed. "The weather's nice, too. I guess if you like fish." Alex faked a giggle.
"Yeah." He sighed. "Do you like fish?"
"It's alright," I mumbled.
"Okay," he breathed, then his bangs fell into his eyes as he tilted his head down.
"Why do you ask, beebs?" I wondered, stepping into the living room and putting my coffee on the table.
"Just wondering," he whispered. Alex sat on the couch as I put Fight Club into the DVD player. My mind buzzed and my stomach churned.
Idiot. Fucking idiot.
Ten.
"I'm making bank," Alex declared, throwing a pile of cash down on the table.
"You're making bank because it's Friday night," I mumbled.
"Well, it's nearly Saturday morning." Alex put his hands on his hips. I hid behind my coffee cup and pretended to be invisible. "C'mon, babe," he tried.
"I don't like you fucking other people," I murmured hesitantly, fingers gripping tighter.
"Well, you're not fucking me," he retorted. He grabbed the cash off the table and waved it in my face. My eyes fluttered shut. "It's all twenties and hundreds, Zack. Fuck off." Alex shoved it into his pocket and swiftly moved behind the curtain, sweeping it shut.
Nine.
"Any luck finding an apartment?" I asked.
Alex nearly spit out his mouthful of iced tea.
"I haven't looked," he gasped, clearing his throat and clanking the glass onto the table.
"Here's last Sunday's paper," I murmured, dropping it next to his glass. Alex eyed it as it glared up at him, headline reading Home and Garden.
"You mean..." he breathed, "I can't stay here?"
"You just wanted to stay here 'til you found a more permanent place," I reminded him.
"Yeah, but," Alex tried. He huffed out a gush of air with no words in it.
"But what?"
"I changed my mind," he muttered, desperately looking up at me.
I stared down at Alex. I couldn't say no, not with the look in his eyes, like he might shatter into a trillion pieces and collapse onto my floor and I would have to sweep him out from under the couch and pick him out of the cushions.
"Fine." I picked up the paper, glanced at the front page, and tossed it into the recycling pile. Alex relaxed noticeably, eyes still hanging onto a glimmer of hurt. I sifted through the DVDs in the cabinet and eventually settled on Encino Man.
"Thank you," Alex whispered.
"Don't worry about it," I replied. "I like having you around." I gave my best cute grin and Alex's cheeks flushed pink.
"I like being around you," he mumbled, staring straight down. I leaned in, nudged his face up with my nose until his was touching mine, and lightly pressed my lips against his. He softly pushed back. I didn't move, just pulled my lips away. Alex left his forehead resting against mine as he giggled quietly.
"I don't want you to leave," I barely breathed, eyes still shut.
"I don't want you to kick me out," he muttered.
"And I don't want you to get a new apartment," I continued.
"Neither do I."
"And I don't want you to fuck another man after December fourteenth."
"Neither do I," he laughed, then tilted in for another kiss. His hand found my hair and his fingers threaded in the curls.
"Movie," I reminded him, pulling away.
"Okay." Alex curled onto the couch and rested in my lap again, just like that first day when we had watched Brokeback Mountain.