It's not what it looks like!
Title: It's not what it looks like! (Part 1/2)
Pairing: Jalex
POV: 3rd POV
Summary: Ales likes ghost hunting.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this fanfic. Honestly. Only the plot line is mine. :) This never happened.
WARNING: Hand jobs
A/N: Idek? Just... read it!
Alex likes to perform a ghost hunt, he leaves hidden cameras in rooms he's aware no one ever comes, or maybe just in their hotel rooms.
He truly loves to investigate, though he had never seen such a thing, he's determined to stay up all night for his up coming investigation.
Aside from writing music, singing and performing, many people didn't know Alex's little hobby. Except his band mates/crew and relatives.
Later that day before their show, Alex had put up a hidden camera in the hotel they were staying for the night in hopes of catching or recording a movement or maybe just an orb. He took his time and left it two hours before their show. After setting and hooking it up on his laptop, he immediately left to eat and for sound check.
Just as Alex had left moments later, Jack came inside their hotel room where he and Alex is sharing, and where Alex had hidden his camera for his investigation purposes. Of course, he'd left a super-sensitive mic with it, duh! He's ghost hunting!
But Jack came in for an oddly different reason. He was horny as hell.
Most people Jack was gay for Alex, but none took it seriously, and Alex refused to believe it. Because, c'mon! Jack fuckin Barakat, gay for Alex?! That's definitely unbelievable, knowing Jack since they were teenagers, the younger boy was known to be the play-boy, he never had a permanent and stable relationship, because, he just can't! He managed to fuck every single groupee the crew and the band had to offer to him. In one night.
Now, back to Jack entering their hotel room. He was fucking horny and in need of friction. To be honest, he wants friction from Alex. The mic is recording every word he says, every breath he takes and every pant he makes. And it seems though that Jack was drunk and was looking for--
"Lexy!" Jack cooed. "Where are you? I fucking need you." He slurred. Yep, he's drunk alright! He managed to stumble to the bathroom hoping to find Alex butt-naked in the shower, but in no such luck. He went for the bed and dropped himself down on it. He started to grind. To fucking grind on to the bed. Who fucking does that?!
His dick needs friction and the bed isn't helping that much, too.
All Jack's actions is being recorded by the camera. Oh damn! But Jack doesn't know that. He isn't aware that Alex had set up a camera in this very room.
Jack rolled himself on the bed, his back now against the mattress, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it somewhere on the floor. He quickly unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped it. He kicked it off and palmed himself through his boxers.
Moments then, Jack grew impatient and kicked off his boxers on the floor along with his pants and shirt. His dick sprung free and the feeling of relief sent a guttural groan from his throat.
He stood up quickly and walked over to his luggage in search of that tiny little bottle, and once he got it, he immediately got on the bed again, hurriedly pumping his dick, squeezing getnly, just the way he likes it.
But it was never enough. He knows he needs Alex, the older boy's dick inside him. He wants it, craves for it.
Thoughts of Alex fucking him from the behind is melting his brain slowly, leaving the dirty thoughts about Alex behind, those thoughts, where in Alex was above him, his knees bent over his chest while Alex is fucking him to oblivion, thrusting harder until Jack sees stars.
It was all Jack could ever think of, with those thoughts corrupting his mind, he was now moaning like a professional pornstar slut, cursing under his breath and a mantra of 'Fuck Alex' from his mouth.
And of course, let's not forget that there's a sensitive microphone in there that's attached on a video camera, which Jack isn't aware of.
Jack pumps his dick quickly, getting closer to the edge with every stroke, and with a scream of,
"Oh my god! Fuck me Alex! Oh, Lex. Fuck. Shit."
He came on his hand, streams of white covering his chest and stomach, his hands still pumping and his mouth still spilling a mantra of Alex's name. He came down from his high.
His chest still heaving and still out of breath, he slowly stood up and went straight to the bathroom and cleaned himself up. He put on his boxers and laid on the bed. He needs at least this hour to sleep before their show starts. He doesn't want to perform on stage while he's alcohol induced. That would've been a bad performance.
He laid there, tucking a pillow between his arms, thinking it was Alex hugging him, saying sweet things and exchanging their 'I love you's'. But he's aware that it ISN'T Alex.
He laid there, ready for sleep to take him over. Allowing a tear to drop from his eyes from the thought that Alex, will never, EVER, be his'.
-------------------------------------
It's not the end you know! Just, part 1. I haven't forgotten about Alex. Just so you know. ;)
Pairing: Jalex
POV: 3rd POV
Summary: Ales likes ghost hunting.
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone in this fanfic. Honestly. Only the plot line is mine. :) This never happened.
WARNING: Hand jobs
A/N: Idek? Just... read it!
Alex likes to perform a ghost hunt, he leaves hidden cameras in rooms he's aware no one ever comes, or maybe just in their hotel rooms.
He truly loves to investigate, though he had never seen such a thing, he's determined to stay up all night for his up coming investigation.
Aside from writing music, singing and performing, many people didn't know Alex's little hobby. Except his band mates/crew and relatives.
Later that day before their show, Alex had put up a hidden camera in the hotel they were staying for the night in hopes of catching or recording a movement or maybe just an orb. He took his time and left it two hours before their show. After setting and hooking it up on his laptop, he immediately left to eat and for sound check.
Just as Alex had left moments later, Jack came inside their hotel room where he and Alex is sharing, and where Alex had hidden his camera for his investigation purposes. Of course, he'd left a super-sensitive mic with it, duh! He's ghost hunting!
But Jack came in for an oddly different reason. He was horny as hell.
Most people Jack was gay for Alex, but none took it seriously, and Alex refused to believe it. Because, c'mon! Jack fuckin Barakat, gay for Alex?! That's definitely unbelievable, knowing Jack since they were teenagers, the younger boy was known to be the play-boy, he never had a permanent and stable relationship, because, he just can't! He managed to fuck every single groupee the crew and the band had to offer to him. In one night.
Now, back to Jack entering their hotel room. He was fucking horny and in need of friction. To be honest, he wants friction from Alex. The mic is recording every word he says, every breath he takes and every pant he makes. And it seems though that Jack was drunk and was looking for--
"Lexy!" Jack cooed. "Where are you? I fucking need you." He slurred. Yep, he's drunk alright! He managed to stumble to the bathroom hoping to find Alex butt-naked in the shower, but in no such luck. He went for the bed and dropped himself down on it. He started to grind. To fucking grind on to the bed. Who fucking does that?!
His dick needs friction and the bed isn't helping that much, too.
All Jack's actions is being recorded by the camera. Oh damn! But Jack doesn't know that. He isn't aware that Alex had set up a camera in this very room.
Jack rolled himself on the bed, his back now against the mattress, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it somewhere on the floor. He quickly unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped it. He kicked it off and palmed himself through his boxers.
Moments then, Jack grew impatient and kicked off his boxers on the floor along with his pants and shirt. His dick sprung free and the feeling of relief sent a guttural groan from his throat.
He stood up quickly and walked over to his luggage in search of that tiny little bottle, and once he got it, he immediately got on the bed again, hurriedly pumping his dick, squeezing getnly, just the way he likes it.
But it was never enough. He knows he needs Alex, the older boy's dick inside him. He wants it, craves for it.
Thoughts of Alex fucking him from the behind is melting his brain slowly, leaving the dirty thoughts about Alex behind, those thoughts, where in Alex was above him, his knees bent over his chest while Alex is fucking him to oblivion, thrusting harder until Jack sees stars.
It was all Jack could ever think of, with those thoughts corrupting his mind, he was now moaning like a professional pornstar slut, cursing under his breath and a mantra of 'Fuck Alex' from his mouth.
And of course, let's not forget that there's a sensitive microphone in there that's attached on a video camera, which Jack isn't aware of.
Jack pumps his dick quickly, getting closer to the edge with every stroke, and with a scream of,
"Oh my god! Fuck me Alex! Oh, Lex. Fuck. Shit."
He came on his hand, streams of white covering his chest and stomach, his hands still pumping and his mouth still spilling a mantra of Alex's name. He came down from his high.
His chest still heaving and still out of breath, he slowly stood up and went straight to the bathroom and cleaned himself up. He put on his boxers and laid on the bed. He needs at least this hour to sleep before their show starts. He doesn't want to perform on stage while he's alcohol induced. That would've been a bad performance.
He laid there, tucking a pillow between his arms, thinking it was Alex hugging him, saying sweet things and exchanging their 'I love you's'. But he's aware that it ISN'T Alex.
He laid there, ready for sleep to take him over. Allowing a tear to drop from his eyes from the thought that Alex, will never, EVER, be his'.
-------------------------------------
It's not the end you know! Just, part 1. I haven't forgotten about Alex. Just so you know. ;)