Maybe We Were Made For Each Other (S/A)
It's a usual night for Alex Gaskarth. Well, it seems like it, anyway. He'd just played an amazing show with his band and crew, and now they were in one of the better clubs in the town they were passing through. Alcohol was flowing and music was pounding, and Alex was on the look-out for a girl to take back to his hotel room. Tour life was great, but if it weren't for one-night-stands, Alex's dick would be in grave danger. So, it was a usual night. Or so it seemed. Little did the vocalist know that tonight would change things, significantly, forever.
"Nice outfit. I think it'd look better on my hotel room floor, though," the blonde man told the small but leggy brunette standing at the bar in front of him. She turned around and faced him, grinning flirtatiously, showing off her dentist-white teeth, a shocking contrast to her bright red lipstick.
"That's one of the dodgiest lines I've ever heard," she told him, giggling. "But you're cute, so I'll make an exception."
Alex moved closer to the girl, grinning and playing with her hair.
"So, pretty lady, what would your name be?"
The small-talk flowed between the two, neither venturing too deep into the other's life for lack of concern. They knew tonight would be a one-time thing - and that was fine with both of them, especially Alex, who was, after all, just passing through this town on a tour with his band, All Time Low. The other band members and their crew were scattered around the club, but Alex didn't care about them right now. All he cared about was getting off, and the girl in front of him was the very best person to aid him in that; not his band nor his crew.
"So," Alex said after a while, letting a large breath of out his chest. "I'm staying just down the road..." He mentioned the expensive hotel they were staying at, and watched as the girl's eyes glittered greedily. "Maybe you've heard of it?" He smirked when the girl nodded eagerly. "Would you like to come back there with-..."
"'LEX!"
Before Alex could finish, a tall, skinny figure was throwing itself at him, closing their arms around the blonde's neck like a vice and placing a large sloppy kiss on the vocalist's cheek.
"Jack," Alex groaned. Jack Barakat was Alex's band mate and best friend. They'd been through most things together, good and bad, and they still had so many more things to go through. Alex put his hand on the guitarist's face and attempted to push him off. Jack had a strong grip when drunk, however, and he continued to grin ludicrously.
Until his eyes fell on the brunette.
"Hi," he all but screamed in the girl's face. She looked taken a-back and wary, eyeing the Lebanese man with caution. "Are you Alex's new slut?"
Alex stared at Jack with his mouth wide open. He'd stopped trying to shove him off by this point and had actually opted to wrap his arm around the unsteady man's waist. The girl's 'brows narrowed, and her eyes shot to Alex. He looked at her helplessly.
"He doesn't mean it," he muttered out quickly. "He get's a bit... funky when he's drunk."
Jack snorted, and then got distracted by something and stared at it with a blank expression. He snapped back into reality and grinned at the girl.
"How many STDs do you have, then? You look a bit scuzzy."
The girl 'hmph'-ed and stormed away. Alex spluttered apologies and pleas for her to stay, but she ignored him and continued to walk over to her friends, who proceeded to send dirty looks his way.
"Way to fucking go, Jack," Alex hissed, shoving the younger boy off of him. Jack pouted. A tear slipped down his face before he started full on sobbing. Alex rolled his eyes and pulled the man into a hug. Jack tended to be a tearful drunk sometimes.
"I'm sorry, bro," Alex said into Jack's ear, speaking normally against the thumping club music. "Come on. I think I need to get you back to the hotel so I can pump you full of caffeine and get you to bed."
"M'kay," Jack mumbled, pressing his face into Alex's neck and closing his eyes.
The truth was Jack was in love with Alex.
He just didn't really know about that fact when he was sober. He had confusing feelings for his best friend, yeah, but he was in denial. Him? Jack Barakat? In love? Ha!
Drunkard Jack Barakat had no shame, though. He knew he was in love with Alex Gaskarth. It was as plain to him as the colour blue. He was in love with Alex. No 'if's, no 'but's. Just love.
But drunken Jack also knew better than to inform Alex of this fact. Well, most of the time. Most of the time drunken Jack was around, he was insulting the girls Alex attempted to hook up with so Alex would get further and further away from killing his single status with an infuriating woman. If Jack was lucky (and drunk enough), like tonight, Alex would offer to take him back home, to the bus or to the hotel, depending on where they were and where they were staying. However, every so often he slipped up, and protested his love to Alex. Naturally the blonde laughed it off, taking his drunken best friend's ramblings for shit before tucking him into bed for the night.
And each time Jack broke a little more.
"Flyzik," Alex yelled over the thumping bass. The seemingly-shy tour manager turned around to face his friend and boss, cocking an eyebrow as he swayed a little.
"I’m taking Jack back to the hotel," he explained, shifting Jack, who was falling all over Alex, up a little straighter. Flyzik gave Alex the thumbs up.
"Don't let him puke everywhere," Flyzik requested as Alex turned to leave. "Try to keep it to one specific area. You know, for the cleaner’s sake.”
Alex grimaced, and Flyzik laughed. They said their goodbyes before Alex pulled Jack out of the club and onto the cold street. Jack shivered, and curled into Alex's side a little more.
"'Lexy is warm," Jack mumbled, closing his eyes. Alex rolled his eyes at the ridiculous nickname and shook Jack a little.
"You can't sleep here, bro," Alex informed him as he began to drag him down the street. "You have to wait until we're at our hotel room."
"But it's so far!" Jack whined.
"No, it's not," Alex told him patiently. "It's a couple of blocks away. No big deal. Now, come on."
Alex pulled Jack like a dead-weight down the sidewalk, having to stop every so often to wake the boy up. Alex never questioned himself, however. If he did, maybe he'd discover something. But he didn't. He never stopped to properly think why he looked after Jack this way. He assumed, somewhere deep back in his mind, that it was because they were best friends, and this is what best friends did.
When Alex had finally gotten Jack into the hotel room, after having to stop him from socialising with the receptionist and then a prim looking woman in the lobby, Jack didn't even want to sleep.
He sighed, frustrated, and fell back onto his own bed. Jack was bouncing on his, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Bounce with me, 'Lex! Bounce!"
"No!" Alex yelled. Jack stopped, staring at Alex. He sat down on the bed and looked into his lap like a naughty child.
"You fucking... I... I was supposed to get laid, tonight, Jack! I'm supposed to get laid a lot, come to think of it. But you always fucking come and insult the chick I'm trying to get with, and half the time they storm off! Why? What is the fucking point? Can you not get girls or something? Are you jealous? I need to get off, Jack! And you always fucking mess it up! What's wrong with you?" Alex panted after his explosion, not looking at the younger's face because he could feel the wave of guilt threatening to wash over and drown him.
"M'sorry, Alex," Jack told him quietly. "I just..."
And then Jack Barakat snapped. He snapped so hard that a part of him was altered forever.
"I fucking love you, Alex!" he yelled at him. This time it was different. This time, Alex could hear the truth in the Lebanese man's word, could see the sincerity in his eyes. And it fit. Jack got rid of the girls that Alex tried to hook up because yes, he was jealous. But not in the way Alex originally thought. Jack wasn't jealous of Alex. Jack was jealous of the sluts Alex picked up.
"It hurts, y'know," Jack told him bitterly, his words slurring slightly because of the alcohol in his blood. "It hurts, watching you with those girls. Walking in on you when you're finished with them, and they’re lying across you. I love you. I know you. They've never even met you before, but they get you. They have you, even just for one night. They haven't waited so fucking long for you. Like me. They haven't known you forever, gotten to know all your stupid and amazing personality traits and habits. Like me." Jack sighed. "But you don't love me back," he said sadly, wiping a tear away. "You don't want me like that. I'm just your best friend; your annoying, idiotic best friend, who scares the girls away. No, Alex. It's not that I can't get girls. It's that I don't want them. I want you."
Alex stared at Jack, his mouth open. How Jack had ever managed to form that speech in his drunken state would forever be beyond Alex. But right now so many more important things were rushing through the blonde man's head. Like the fact his best friend was in love with him. His male best friend.
"It's because they have vaginas, isn't it?" Jack asked, his silly drunken state returning. "I have a dick and they have vaginas." He sighed loudly, falling back onto his bed. "Never before have I ever been disappointed to have a dick." Jack snuggled his face into his pillow, oblivious to Alex's shaking, shocked figure. "I wish you had a vagina," he informed Alex. "That'd be good. Then maybe you'd like me. I think you'd make a better chick than me, anyway," Jack rambled. "I'm too hairy."
"You're a stupid fuck," Alex whispered brokenly, tears slipping down his face. He didn't really know why he was crying. Maybe it was because he was beginning to realise something that had stayed hidden and lurking for a long time.
Jack opened one eye and looked at the elder, scanning his silhouette. He couldn't see his face, just his slouched figure sitting on the bed next to his, wavering slightly from side-to-side.
"Cuddle?" Jack asked. Alex stood up mechanically and lay next to Jack, who pulled his arms around the breaking boy.
And then Alex began to sob.
Because this was it. This was what had been buried for so long, what he'd always known but never really known. He, himself. He was in love with Jack. The realisation was so strong and over-powering; it was like a wrecking-ball to Alex's emotions. He couldn't control it. And Jack lay there, too, rocking the boy the best he could whilst they were lying down, and whispering slurred sweet nothings in his ear.
After a while, Alex's sobs died down, and another realisation, this time numb, approached him. Before, he thought he was breaking. It hurt so badly whilst he lay cradled in Jack's arms, he thought he would never be the same. It was true; he never would be the same, because he was a different person - still Alex, but something else, too. It was like he was a muscle - broken after an exercise, a trial in his life. But now he was repairing and, with that, growing stronger. Improved. A bigger person. A better Alex.
"Jack," Alex said quietly, but with certainty. "I love you, too."
Jack smiled and nuzzled his nose against Alex's neck. Alex sighed, and pressed himself closer to the guitarist. It would be difficult in the morning, but right now he was content. He was in love.
"Alex," Jack began after a few moments. Alex stroked his cheek, telling him to go on. "I think I'm gonna puke."
"Nice outfit. I think it'd look better on my hotel room floor, though," the blonde man told the small but leggy brunette standing at the bar in front of him. She turned around and faced him, grinning flirtatiously, showing off her dentist-white teeth, a shocking contrast to her bright red lipstick.
"That's one of the dodgiest lines I've ever heard," she told him, giggling. "But you're cute, so I'll make an exception."
Alex moved closer to the girl, grinning and playing with her hair.
"So, pretty lady, what would your name be?"
The small-talk flowed between the two, neither venturing too deep into the other's life for lack of concern. They knew tonight would be a one-time thing - and that was fine with both of them, especially Alex, who was, after all, just passing through this town on a tour with his band, All Time Low. The other band members and their crew were scattered around the club, but Alex didn't care about them right now. All he cared about was getting off, and the girl in front of him was the very best person to aid him in that; not his band nor his crew.
"So," Alex said after a while, letting a large breath of out his chest. "I'm staying just down the road..." He mentioned the expensive hotel they were staying at, and watched as the girl's eyes glittered greedily. "Maybe you've heard of it?" He smirked when the girl nodded eagerly. "Would you like to come back there with-..."
"'LEX!"
Before Alex could finish, a tall, skinny figure was throwing itself at him, closing their arms around the blonde's neck like a vice and placing a large sloppy kiss on the vocalist's cheek.
"Jack," Alex groaned. Jack Barakat was Alex's band mate and best friend. They'd been through most things together, good and bad, and they still had so many more things to go through. Alex put his hand on the guitarist's face and attempted to push him off. Jack had a strong grip when drunk, however, and he continued to grin ludicrously.
Until his eyes fell on the brunette.
"Hi," he all but screamed in the girl's face. She looked taken a-back and wary, eyeing the Lebanese man with caution. "Are you Alex's new slut?"
Alex stared at Jack with his mouth wide open. He'd stopped trying to shove him off by this point and had actually opted to wrap his arm around the unsteady man's waist. The girl's 'brows narrowed, and her eyes shot to Alex. He looked at her helplessly.
"He doesn't mean it," he muttered out quickly. "He get's a bit... funky when he's drunk."
Jack snorted, and then got distracted by something and stared at it with a blank expression. He snapped back into reality and grinned at the girl.
"How many STDs do you have, then? You look a bit scuzzy."
The girl 'hmph'-ed and stormed away. Alex spluttered apologies and pleas for her to stay, but she ignored him and continued to walk over to her friends, who proceeded to send dirty looks his way.
"Way to fucking go, Jack," Alex hissed, shoving the younger boy off of him. Jack pouted. A tear slipped down his face before he started full on sobbing. Alex rolled his eyes and pulled the man into a hug. Jack tended to be a tearful drunk sometimes.
"I'm sorry, bro," Alex said into Jack's ear, speaking normally against the thumping club music. "Come on. I think I need to get you back to the hotel so I can pump you full of caffeine and get you to bed."
"M'kay," Jack mumbled, pressing his face into Alex's neck and closing his eyes.
The truth was Jack was in love with Alex.
He just didn't really know about that fact when he was sober. He had confusing feelings for his best friend, yeah, but he was in denial. Him? Jack Barakat? In love? Ha!
Drunkard Jack Barakat had no shame, though. He knew he was in love with Alex Gaskarth. It was as plain to him as the colour blue. He was in love with Alex. No 'if's, no 'but's. Just love.
But drunken Jack also knew better than to inform Alex of this fact. Well, most of the time. Most of the time drunken Jack was around, he was insulting the girls Alex attempted to hook up with so Alex would get further and further away from killing his single status with an infuriating woman. If Jack was lucky (and drunk enough), like tonight, Alex would offer to take him back home, to the bus or to the hotel, depending on where they were and where they were staying. However, every so often he slipped up, and protested his love to Alex. Naturally the blonde laughed it off, taking his drunken best friend's ramblings for shit before tucking him into bed for the night.
And each time Jack broke a little more.
"Flyzik," Alex yelled over the thumping bass. The seemingly-shy tour manager turned around to face his friend and boss, cocking an eyebrow as he swayed a little.
"I’m taking Jack back to the hotel," he explained, shifting Jack, who was falling all over Alex, up a little straighter. Flyzik gave Alex the thumbs up.
"Don't let him puke everywhere," Flyzik requested as Alex turned to leave. "Try to keep it to one specific area. You know, for the cleaner’s sake.”
Alex grimaced, and Flyzik laughed. They said their goodbyes before Alex pulled Jack out of the club and onto the cold street. Jack shivered, and curled into Alex's side a little more.
"'Lexy is warm," Jack mumbled, closing his eyes. Alex rolled his eyes at the ridiculous nickname and shook Jack a little.
"You can't sleep here, bro," Alex informed him as he began to drag him down the street. "You have to wait until we're at our hotel room."
"But it's so far!" Jack whined.
"No, it's not," Alex told him patiently. "It's a couple of blocks away. No big deal. Now, come on."
Alex pulled Jack like a dead-weight down the sidewalk, having to stop every so often to wake the boy up. Alex never questioned himself, however. If he did, maybe he'd discover something. But he didn't. He never stopped to properly think why he looked after Jack this way. He assumed, somewhere deep back in his mind, that it was because they were best friends, and this is what best friends did.
When Alex had finally gotten Jack into the hotel room, after having to stop him from socialising with the receptionist and then a prim looking woman in the lobby, Jack didn't even want to sleep.
He sighed, frustrated, and fell back onto his own bed. Jack was bouncing on his, yelling at the top of his lungs.
"Bounce with me, 'Lex! Bounce!"
"No!" Alex yelled. Jack stopped, staring at Alex. He sat down on the bed and looked into his lap like a naughty child.
"You fucking... I... I was supposed to get laid, tonight, Jack! I'm supposed to get laid a lot, come to think of it. But you always fucking come and insult the chick I'm trying to get with, and half the time they storm off! Why? What is the fucking point? Can you not get girls or something? Are you jealous? I need to get off, Jack! And you always fucking mess it up! What's wrong with you?" Alex panted after his explosion, not looking at the younger's face because he could feel the wave of guilt threatening to wash over and drown him.
"M'sorry, Alex," Jack told him quietly. "I just..."
And then Jack Barakat snapped. He snapped so hard that a part of him was altered forever.
"I fucking love you, Alex!" he yelled at him. This time it was different. This time, Alex could hear the truth in the Lebanese man's word, could see the sincerity in his eyes. And it fit. Jack got rid of the girls that Alex tried to hook up because yes, he was jealous. But not in the way Alex originally thought. Jack wasn't jealous of Alex. Jack was jealous of the sluts Alex picked up.
"It hurts, y'know," Jack told him bitterly, his words slurring slightly because of the alcohol in his blood. "It hurts, watching you with those girls. Walking in on you when you're finished with them, and they’re lying across you. I love you. I know you. They've never even met you before, but they get you. They have you, even just for one night. They haven't waited so fucking long for you. Like me. They haven't known you forever, gotten to know all your stupid and amazing personality traits and habits. Like me." Jack sighed. "But you don't love me back," he said sadly, wiping a tear away. "You don't want me like that. I'm just your best friend; your annoying, idiotic best friend, who scares the girls away. No, Alex. It's not that I can't get girls. It's that I don't want them. I want you."
Alex stared at Jack, his mouth open. How Jack had ever managed to form that speech in his drunken state would forever be beyond Alex. But right now so many more important things were rushing through the blonde man's head. Like the fact his best friend was in love with him. His male best friend.
"It's because they have vaginas, isn't it?" Jack asked, his silly drunken state returning. "I have a dick and they have vaginas." He sighed loudly, falling back onto his bed. "Never before have I ever been disappointed to have a dick." Jack snuggled his face into his pillow, oblivious to Alex's shaking, shocked figure. "I wish you had a vagina," he informed Alex. "That'd be good. Then maybe you'd like me. I think you'd make a better chick than me, anyway," Jack rambled. "I'm too hairy."
"You're a stupid fuck," Alex whispered brokenly, tears slipping down his face. He didn't really know why he was crying. Maybe it was because he was beginning to realise something that had stayed hidden and lurking for a long time.
Jack opened one eye and looked at the elder, scanning his silhouette. He couldn't see his face, just his slouched figure sitting on the bed next to his, wavering slightly from side-to-side.
"Cuddle?" Jack asked. Alex stood up mechanically and lay next to Jack, who pulled his arms around the breaking boy.
And then Alex began to sob.
Because this was it. This was what had been buried for so long, what he'd always known but never really known. He, himself. He was in love with Jack. The realisation was so strong and over-powering; it was like a wrecking-ball to Alex's emotions. He couldn't control it. And Jack lay there, too, rocking the boy the best he could whilst they were lying down, and whispering slurred sweet nothings in his ear.
After a while, Alex's sobs died down, and another realisation, this time numb, approached him. Before, he thought he was breaking. It hurt so badly whilst he lay cradled in Jack's arms, he thought he would never be the same. It was true; he never would be the same, because he was a different person - still Alex, but something else, too. It was like he was a muscle - broken after an exercise, a trial in his life. But now he was repairing and, with that, growing stronger. Improved. A bigger person. A better Alex.
"Jack," Alex said quietly, but with certainty. "I love you, too."
Jack smiled and nuzzled his nose against Alex's neck. Alex sighed, and pressed himself closer to the guitarist. It would be difficult in the morning, but right now he was content. He was in love.
"Alex," Jack began after a few moments. Alex stroked his cheek, telling him to go on. "I think I'm gonna puke."