chase the morning [9/15]
Title: chase the morning. [9/15]
Author: asphyxiatide/marina.
Rating: it just got to nc-17.
Pairing: alex gaskarth/oliver sykes. assorted past pairings.
Summary: alex has a nice car. oliver would like to take that car for a ride. an innocent trip (or at least as innocent as skipping pe can be) to 7-11 leads to a little something else, and a question in the middle of the night leaves oliver questioning alex's health. plot ensues.
Warnings: an obscene amount of potty mouth, eventual sex, fluff, angst, crying, intense shiznit, deloreans, blood, awkward phone sex, nacho runs, mentions of teenage suicide, the "birds and the bees" talk, michael jackson jokes, weird kinks, artist!oliver, zombie!alex, discussions regarding religion that might tick off those of you who are delicate flowers, self-harming, a lot of text speak, midnight showers, tom sykes.
Disclaimer: i made this whole thing up. don't own any of these characters, but if i did... well, i won't go there. don't google yourself, alex. and rian, don't google alex.
Dedications: desperate2break ♥
Author Notes: PHONE SEX. lolol, this was so awkward to write since i've never had phone sex so i had no idea what to have them say, so i just made shit up. if this is horrible you have permission to beat me over the head with some sort of blunt instrument. also HAPPY IMCRD.
hey oli
Oliver stares down at his phone. It's late on a school night - ten-thirty on a thursday. Oliver's supposed to sleep soon.
hi alex.
Oliver kind of zones out. He's laying in bed, eyes focusing somewhere past the ceiling. His phone buzzes again.
what r u wearing? :]
seriously alex?
yes, seriously.
Oliver sighs. He's got nothing better to do, so he figures he'll play along.
tshirt and boxers. you?
nothing ;D
Oliver clamps his eyes shut, tries desperately not to imagine it.
christ, alex. what do you want me to do? i'm not even supposed to be awake right now.
git nekkid :D hahah.
Typical Alex. Oliver sighs inwardly.
alexxx, i think i'd rather not.
pleeassee oli? you're my boyfriend! i promise i'll make it up to you.
Oliver considers the many ways Alex could repay him. In the form of a blowjob, perhaps.
fine. i'm taking my clothes off. you owe me.
Oliver discards the shirt first, then hesitates, wonders what he might be getting himself into. He shakes the thought from his head and his phone vibrates again as his boxers hit the floor.
ur the best (: should we get on the phone?
jesus fuck no. i'm the single most awkward human being on the fone.
oh that's fine. r u hard?
Oliver glances down under his phone. No such luck. He doesn't want to tell Alex that, though. He considers lying for a second but decides against it.
not yet. fix it?
He waits, but for whatever reason it takes longer than usual for Alex to reply.
imagine i'm there with you. pretend your hands are mine.
Uhm, awkward, Oliver thinks, but ngh. That's literally the sound his brain makes as... well, yeah, there it goes. He nearly cringes, but really, it's Alex, and how could he not have this problem that's currently rising. Like, literally rising.
all better now. i'm sure you're plenty hard (;
uncomfortably so, oli doll. why don't you help me out, baby?
Fuck. This is so wrong.
touch yourself.
Nearly instantly, Oliver's phone buzzes violently. His caller ID reads "alexander william gayskarth." He furrows his brows and picks up.
"I thought I told you I was awkward on the phone, love," Oliver sighs.
"You did," Alex retorts, "but your accent makes me hard."
Woah, so unexpected. Oliver's never thought twice about his accent. He's considered Alex's American accent on occasion, but he forgets that to Alex, Oliver has an accent.
"Oh, really?" Oliver murmurs. "So just by talking, I'm getting you worked up?"
"Especially when you say things like that," Alex mutters breathily. "It's also hard to type on my Blackberry, with, um, one hand."
"I believe I get your drift." Oliver giggles. "See, I, conveniently, have a slide phone and that makes it both easier to type one-handed and to text in class. Y'know, because you only need one hand."
"Yeah, yeah," Alex says dismissively. "Just. Lets get on with this."
"Okay. I apologize in advance if I start giggling at any point."
"I forgive you in advance."
"Alright." Oliver takes a deep breath. "You go."
"I'm imagining my hand is yours," Alex starts.
"Ugh, Christ." Oliver sighs, blurts out the first thing to come to mind. "Picture my hands on your cock, Alex." Oliver winces as the words come out of his mouth, but it elicits a whimper from Alex.
"Oli, I want you to touch yourself too. I'm on my knees, touching you, sucking you."
The image comes too readily to Oliver's mind. He bites down hard on his lip, but, slowly, his hand finds a grip on his-
"Fuck," he gasps. "Put the phone on the pillow, babe. Touch yourself with one hand and hold onto your hair with the other."
"Do you like to pull on my hair, doll?" Alex breathes. Oliver can hear the smile in Alex's voice as he picks up his pace.
"Mhmm. Pull harder for me; I want you to hurt for me. Palm yourself."
"I am. Oh God, Oli, it's so good." Alex gasps. "Can I finger you?"
"Mm, yeah," Oliver moans. "I'm sucking on your fingers, getting them ready for you." He does exactly that. Alex moans through his teeth into the phone, gasps, whimpers.
"Run your fingers around your hole. Put just one in at first."
"Alright, baby. Are you hard for me?"
"I'm so hard for you. I want to suck on your cock. I want your cum. I wanna taste it."
"Fucking shit," Oliver groans, his first finger sinking in. "I need you in me, Alex. Fuck me."
"It's taking all the self control I've got not to get in my car and go over there and take you now," Alex laughs. "Those are my fingers in you, fingering your spot. I'm gonna make you shake." Oliver introduces another finger, whimpering into the phone.
"Mm, Alex, so good, so close," he gasps, finding his spot and plowing into it.
"Me too, doll. Your mouth feels so good on me, Oli. Oh, babe."
Oliver's hips buck up off the bed, pants trailing from his throat. Alex moans one last time as Oliver does, coming into his fist as his fingers rake against his spot. Alex listens closely as Oliver's beathing trails off, evening out.
"Fuck, baby," Alex sighs.
"I bet Tom heard that," Oliver laughs. Alex giggles, quietly.
"My parents are on the other side of the house," he yawns. "I think I'd like to sleep now."
"Well I need to put my clothes back on. I hope we could do this again maybe," Oliver breathes.
"Of course, doll." Oliver thinks a nickname might be forming. "Night, Oli doll."
"Night, love," Oliver coos, then hangs up. It's awkwardly quiet until there's a tentative knock on the door. "Uh, yeah?" The door cracks.
"Oli?"
"Yes, Tom?"
"Keep it down next time."
"Oh. Okay."
"Now please forget this ever happened and let us never speak of it again."
"Course, Tom."
The door shuts again as Oliver buries his face into the pillow and giggles erratically, slamming his phone down onto his bedside table. It immediately buzzes again - a picture message this time. It's a shirtless Alex with one hand shaped into half of a heart pressed against his chest. Oliver flicks the light on, turns his phone around and clicks a picture doing the same with his opposite hand and sends it without a caption. He'd rather let Alex caption it himself.
Author: asphyxiatide/marina.
Rating: it just got to nc-17.
Pairing: alex gaskarth/oliver sykes. assorted past pairings.
Summary: alex has a nice car. oliver would like to take that car for a ride. an innocent trip (or at least as innocent as skipping pe can be) to 7-11 leads to a little something else, and a question in the middle of the night leaves oliver questioning alex's health. plot ensues.
Warnings: an obscene amount of potty mouth, eventual sex, fluff, angst, crying, intense shiznit, deloreans, blood, awkward phone sex, nacho runs, mentions of teenage suicide, the "birds and the bees" talk, michael jackson jokes, weird kinks, artist!oliver, zombie!alex, discussions regarding religion that might tick off those of you who are delicate flowers, self-harming, a lot of text speak, midnight showers, tom sykes.
Disclaimer: i made this whole thing up. don't own any of these characters, but if i did... well, i won't go there. don't google yourself, alex. and rian, don't google alex.
Dedications: desperate2break ♥
Author Notes: PHONE SEX. lolol, this was so awkward to write since i've never had phone sex so i had no idea what to have them say, so i just made shit up. if this is horrible you have permission to beat me over the head with some sort of blunt instrument. also HAPPY IMCRD.
hey oli
Oliver stares down at his phone. It's late on a school night - ten-thirty on a thursday. Oliver's supposed to sleep soon.
hi alex.
Oliver kind of zones out. He's laying in bed, eyes focusing somewhere past the ceiling. His phone buzzes again.
what r u wearing? :]
seriously alex?
yes, seriously.
Oliver sighs. He's got nothing better to do, so he figures he'll play along.
tshirt and boxers. you?
nothing ;D
Oliver clamps his eyes shut, tries desperately not to imagine it.
christ, alex. what do you want me to do? i'm not even supposed to be awake right now.
git nekkid :D hahah.
Typical Alex. Oliver sighs inwardly.
alexxx, i think i'd rather not.
pleeassee oli? you're my boyfriend! i promise i'll make it up to you.
Oliver considers the many ways Alex could repay him. In the form of a blowjob, perhaps.
fine. i'm taking my clothes off. you owe me.
Oliver discards the shirt first, then hesitates, wonders what he might be getting himself into. He shakes the thought from his head and his phone vibrates again as his boxers hit the floor.
ur the best (: should we get on the phone?
jesus fuck no. i'm the single most awkward human being on the fone.
oh that's fine. r u hard?
Oliver glances down under his phone. No such luck. He doesn't want to tell Alex that, though. He considers lying for a second but decides against it.
not yet. fix it?
He waits, but for whatever reason it takes longer than usual for Alex to reply.
imagine i'm there with you. pretend your hands are mine.
Uhm, awkward, Oliver thinks, but ngh. That's literally the sound his brain makes as... well, yeah, there it goes. He nearly cringes, but really, it's Alex, and how could he not have this problem that's currently rising. Like, literally rising.
all better now. i'm sure you're plenty hard (;
uncomfortably so, oli doll. why don't you help me out, baby?
Fuck. This is so wrong.
touch yourself.
Nearly instantly, Oliver's phone buzzes violently. His caller ID reads "alexander william gayskarth." He furrows his brows and picks up.
"I thought I told you I was awkward on the phone, love," Oliver sighs.
"You did," Alex retorts, "but your accent makes me hard."
Woah, so unexpected. Oliver's never thought twice about his accent. He's considered Alex's American accent on occasion, but he forgets that to Alex, Oliver has an accent.
"Oh, really?" Oliver murmurs. "So just by talking, I'm getting you worked up?"
"Especially when you say things like that," Alex mutters breathily. "It's also hard to type on my Blackberry, with, um, one hand."
"I believe I get your drift." Oliver giggles. "See, I, conveniently, have a slide phone and that makes it both easier to type one-handed and to text in class. Y'know, because you only need one hand."
"Yeah, yeah," Alex says dismissively. "Just. Lets get on with this."
"Okay. I apologize in advance if I start giggling at any point."
"I forgive you in advance."
"Alright." Oliver takes a deep breath. "You go."
"I'm imagining my hand is yours," Alex starts.
"Ugh, Christ." Oliver sighs, blurts out the first thing to come to mind. "Picture my hands on your cock, Alex." Oliver winces as the words come out of his mouth, but it elicits a whimper from Alex.
"Oli, I want you to touch yourself too. I'm on my knees, touching you, sucking you."
The image comes too readily to Oliver's mind. He bites down hard on his lip, but, slowly, his hand finds a grip on his-
"Fuck," he gasps. "Put the phone on the pillow, babe. Touch yourself with one hand and hold onto your hair with the other."
"Do you like to pull on my hair, doll?" Alex breathes. Oliver can hear the smile in Alex's voice as he picks up his pace.
"Mhmm. Pull harder for me; I want you to hurt for me. Palm yourself."
"I am. Oh God, Oli, it's so good." Alex gasps. "Can I finger you?"
"Mm, yeah," Oliver moans. "I'm sucking on your fingers, getting them ready for you." He does exactly that. Alex moans through his teeth into the phone, gasps, whimpers.
"Run your fingers around your hole. Put just one in at first."
"Alright, baby. Are you hard for me?"
"I'm so hard for you. I want to suck on your cock. I want your cum. I wanna taste it."
"Fucking shit," Oliver groans, his first finger sinking in. "I need you in me, Alex. Fuck me."
"It's taking all the self control I've got not to get in my car and go over there and take you now," Alex laughs. "Those are my fingers in you, fingering your spot. I'm gonna make you shake." Oliver introduces another finger, whimpering into the phone.
"Mm, Alex, so good, so close," he gasps, finding his spot and plowing into it.
"Me too, doll. Your mouth feels so good on me, Oli. Oh, babe."
Oliver's hips buck up off the bed, pants trailing from his throat. Alex moans one last time as Oliver does, coming into his fist as his fingers rake against his spot. Alex listens closely as Oliver's beathing trails off, evening out.
"Fuck, baby," Alex sighs.
"I bet Tom heard that," Oliver laughs. Alex giggles, quietly.
"My parents are on the other side of the house," he yawns. "I think I'd like to sleep now."
"Well I need to put my clothes back on. I hope we could do this again maybe," Oliver breathes.
"Of course, doll." Oliver thinks a nickname might be forming. "Night, Oli doll."
"Night, love," Oliver coos, then hangs up. It's awkwardly quiet until there's a tentative knock on the door. "Uh, yeah?" The door cracks.
"Oli?"
"Yes, Tom?"
"Keep it down next time."
"Oh. Okay."
"Now please forget this ever happened and let us never speak of it again."
"Course, Tom."
The door shuts again as Oliver buries his face into the pillow and giggles erratically, slamming his phone down onto his bedside table. It immediately buzzes again - a picture message this time. It's a shirtless Alex with one hand shaped into half of a heart pressed against his chest. Oliver flicks the light on, turns his phone around and clicks a picture doing the same with his opposite hand and sends it without a caption. He'd rather let Alex caption it himself.