dear friend.
Title: dear friend.
Author: asphyxiatide/marina.
Rating: eh, pg-15
Pairing: one-sided!alex gaskarth/jack barakat, alex gaskarth/zack merrick
Summary: jack is drunk. he can hear them.
Warnings: potty mouth, angst, indirect gay sex.
Disclaimer: i'm a compulsive liar, actually. if you got here by googling yourself, or if rian googled your sorry ass, run away while you still can.
Dedications: the book the perks of being a wallflower for inspiring this.
Author Notes: first person again, it's jack's pov. idk, i like it and tbh i don't really care what you think about this one hahah. FUCKEN PISSED CAUSE MY PHONE DELETED A BUNCH OF MY SHIT :| now i don't know how much money jelani and i owe my dad for the bmth show, fucckkk.
Dear friend,
If someone were to come up to me in this living room and ask me why I look so sick I would tell them it's the alcohol but it's really because I can hear Alex and Zack fucking upstairs.
Some kid already asked me, actually- he asked me if I was gonna puke, so I said yes because I didn't want to lie, but then he said you better not because it's his house and if I was gonna puke I'd better puke in the kitchen. So I shrugged.
I wonder, if you've ever had someone smile at you, and you've felt it? I mean, physically felt them smile. Like you just jumped and gravity got swallowed up and you're just going up, and your stomach gets lost somewhere and eventually the sky starts to fall away around you and it's the brightest white you've ever seen but it doesn't hurt your eyes and then you blink and the smile is gone but you're warm inside like you've just drank hot cocoa.
That is how I feel when I am with Alex. Alex calls me Jack, but I call me Jack. Can you tell the difference? Maybe I shouldn't try to explain these things to you. Because if you haven't been in love, you won't know what I mean.
It's also four o'clock in the morning, which I guess technically makes it tomorrow, and most people are asleep tomorrow. I can't sleep and everybody else is either asleep or having sex or gone.
The ceiling is creaking dangerously, but the ceiling is the floor of Alex's bedroom, and on the floor of Alex's bedroom is Alex's bed, and on top of that is Zack and on top of that is Alex and when Alex moves up and down so does Zack and so does the bed and so does the floor and so does the ceiling and so does my stomach. Also I think I'm drunk. Maybe high. But I can't remember if there was weed.
My whole body is churning. I think my stomach is actually where my lungs are supposed to be. Then again, it could just be the alcohol at this point, and the more I think about it everything is moving and when I smoke weed I just want to sleep. I don't want to sleep. Unless it's with Alex.
On that thought, I hear Alex moan Zack's name. Through the ceiling/floor, it kind of sounds like Jack. I bite down hard on my teeth, trying not to either put my head through the glass coffee table in front of me or vomit all over the place.
This is when I realize I'm crying.
My face is hot and sticky and my eyes burn. I can't believe I'm crying, but my lungs are convulsing and they only contort more when I try to get them to stop. I squash my eyes shut and make a beeline for the front door.
The sky is black, with no stars, and the ground is covered with a new sheet of snow. And now there is a new sheet of Jack Barakat on the snow. More like in the snow.
I'm staring up into the starless sky, breathing heavy and sending puffs of white clouds into the air. It's silent out here besides the sound of my breathing and my heart pounding in my chest. I'm melting into the ground. The front door opens. I know that silhouette.
"Jack?" it asks. I don't want it to see me crying. I can't. I suck in the tears.
"Hi," I go.
"Jack, get up," it demands, extending a very long arm to grab my hand. It yanks me up out of the snow, snaps, "why are you out in the fucking snow?" then softens when it asks, "why are you crying?"
About ninety percent of my nerve endings are screaming NO GET BACK IN THE SNOW. The ten percent that is screaming TELL HIM is drowned out easily and I'm quickly crawling back into the Jack-shaped hole in the snow.
"Jack, get up!" it shouts, then quiets down, "Jack, does this have to do with Zack? Jack, get up, you're being ridiculous."
The ways it's saying my name over and over is odd. I sigh and my breath comes out visible.
"I'm not getting up," I reason, "so you should get down here with me."
It seems to consider the idea, then melts down into the snow next to me, creating it's own Alex-shaped hole. It cringes in the corner of my eye.
"Holy shit, it's fucking freezing," comes out in a cloud of condensation. I nod.
"I can't feel anything anyway," I admit.
"Sure you can," it says.
"Well, I felt nauseated when you were fucking Zack."
"Fuck, this bullshit is about Zack," it growls.
"Y'know, through your floor, when you moan his name it kinda sounds like Jack."
That's when the body next to me rolls over to wrap an arm around me and it makes a Jalex-shaped hole in the snow. That's when I say,
"Hey Alex?"
And Alex says, "yeah, Jack?"
And I go "I love you."
And Alex replies, "I know, I just wanted to hear you say it out loud."
I'm sure all of this is meaningless to you. But maybe you can find something worth remembering in the spaces between the words.
Your friend,
Jack.
Author: asphyxiatide/marina.
Rating: eh, pg-15
Pairing: one-sided!alex gaskarth/jack barakat, alex gaskarth/zack merrick
Summary: jack is drunk. he can hear them.
Warnings: potty mouth, angst, indirect gay sex.
Disclaimer: i'm a compulsive liar, actually. if you got here by googling yourself, or if rian googled your sorry ass, run away while you still can.
Dedications: the book the perks of being a wallflower for inspiring this.
Author Notes: first person again, it's jack's pov. idk, i like it and tbh i don't really care what you think about this one hahah. FUCKEN PISSED CAUSE MY PHONE DELETED A BUNCH OF MY SHIT :| now i don't know how much money jelani and i owe my dad for the bmth show, fucckkk.
Dear friend,
If someone were to come up to me in this living room and ask me why I look so sick I would tell them it's the alcohol but it's really because I can hear Alex and Zack fucking upstairs.
Some kid already asked me, actually- he asked me if I was gonna puke, so I said yes because I didn't want to lie, but then he said you better not because it's his house and if I was gonna puke I'd better puke in the kitchen. So I shrugged.
I wonder, if you've ever had someone smile at you, and you've felt it? I mean, physically felt them smile. Like you just jumped and gravity got swallowed up and you're just going up, and your stomach gets lost somewhere and eventually the sky starts to fall away around you and it's the brightest white you've ever seen but it doesn't hurt your eyes and then you blink and the smile is gone but you're warm inside like you've just drank hot cocoa.
That is how I feel when I am with Alex. Alex calls me Jack, but I call me Jack. Can you tell the difference? Maybe I shouldn't try to explain these things to you. Because if you haven't been in love, you won't know what I mean.
It's also four o'clock in the morning, which I guess technically makes it tomorrow, and most people are asleep tomorrow. I can't sleep and everybody else is either asleep or having sex or gone.
The ceiling is creaking dangerously, but the ceiling is the floor of Alex's bedroom, and on the floor of Alex's bedroom is Alex's bed, and on top of that is Zack and on top of that is Alex and when Alex moves up and down so does Zack and so does the bed and so does the floor and so does the ceiling and so does my stomach. Also I think I'm drunk. Maybe high. But I can't remember if there was weed.
My whole body is churning. I think my stomach is actually where my lungs are supposed to be. Then again, it could just be the alcohol at this point, and the more I think about it everything is moving and when I smoke weed I just want to sleep. I don't want to sleep. Unless it's with Alex.
On that thought, I hear Alex moan Zack's name. Through the ceiling/floor, it kind of sounds like Jack. I bite down hard on my teeth, trying not to either put my head through the glass coffee table in front of me or vomit all over the place.
This is when I realize I'm crying.
My face is hot and sticky and my eyes burn. I can't believe I'm crying, but my lungs are convulsing and they only contort more when I try to get them to stop. I squash my eyes shut and make a beeline for the front door.
The sky is black, with no stars, and the ground is covered with a new sheet of snow. And now there is a new sheet of Jack Barakat on the snow. More like in the snow.
I'm staring up into the starless sky, breathing heavy and sending puffs of white clouds into the air. It's silent out here besides the sound of my breathing and my heart pounding in my chest. I'm melting into the ground. The front door opens. I know that silhouette.
"Jack?" it asks. I don't want it to see me crying. I can't. I suck in the tears.
"Hi," I go.
"Jack, get up," it demands, extending a very long arm to grab my hand. It yanks me up out of the snow, snaps, "why are you out in the fucking snow?" then softens when it asks, "why are you crying?"
About ninety percent of my nerve endings are screaming NO GET BACK IN THE SNOW. The ten percent that is screaming TELL HIM is drowned out easily and I'm quickly crawling back into the Jack-shaped hole in the snow.
"Jack, get up!" it shouts, then quiets down, "Jack, does this have to do with Zack? Jack, get up, you're being ridiculous."
The ways it's saying my name over and over is odd. I sigh and my breath comes out visible.
"I'm not getting up," I reason, "so you should get down here with me."
It seems to consider the idea, then melts down into the snow next to me, creating it's own Alex-shaped hole. It cringes in the corner of my eye.
"Holy shit, it's fucking freezing," comes out in a cloud of condensation. I nod.
"I can't feel anything anyway," I admit.
"Sure you can," it says.
"Well, I felt nauseated when you were fucking Zack."
"Fuck, this bullshit is about Zack," it growls.
"Y'know, through your floor, when you moan his name it kinda sounds like Jack."
That's when the body next to me rolls over to wrap an arm around me and it makes a Jalex-shaped hole in the snow. That's when I say,
"Hey Alex?"
And Alex says, "yeah, Jack?"
And I go "I love you."
And Alex replies, "I know, I just wanted to hear you say it out loud."
I'm sure all of this is meaningless to you. But maybe you can find something worth remembering in the spaces between the words.
Your friend,
Jack.