You Can Take My Life, But You Can't Take It With You (Eight)
Title: You Can Take My Life, But You Can't Take It With You
Authors:
turnthepageover and
americanaffair
Rating: NC-17 Overall.
Pairing: Eventual Jalex.
Point of View: Third.
Summary: "You think this is fucking funny?! You're sick, Alex! I'm not some animal! I'm not something you can just keep for your entertainment! Come the fuck down here!"
Disclaimer: We don't own them, as much as Bridjet wishes she does, haha ; ) Story title comes from Poison by All Time Low.
Warning: Violence.
Masterpost- turnthepageover.livejournal.com/24842.html
Jack woke up to light. No, not artificial light. Natural light, shining down from the sun. He opened his eyes slowly, groaning. His head pounded, and he didn't know where he was. He looked around slowly, confused.
The room was familiar in the way a repetitive dream is familiar. He knew he'd been here before, but he couldn't put a finger to when, and where he was laying remained hazy inside his throbbing skull.
He sat up carefully, feeling his vision go fuzzy as his head grew dizzy from the movement. He groaned, putting his face in his hands.
Movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention, and he glanced down next to him. There was obviously someone laying next to him, but they were covered by a blanket. The movement came from a hand sticking out from under the sheets. A hand with a yellow rose tattooed on the back of it.
Jack rubbed his eyes and raised his brows. It couldn't be... Could it? The body made soft sleeping noises, and he was so sure he'd heard them before. Even the form looked just like something he'd woken up to for years now in hotel rooms. But it just can't be.
Jack shook his head as faintly as he could, not wanting to worsen his headache, but trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Unfortunately, he still could not. Jack exhaled nervously, lifting the covers from his own body and seeing just boxer shorts. And no chain.
He wasn't chained? He was obviously upstairs, due to the sunlight and unfamiliar room. But why? Why had Alex brought him up here?
His eyes widened, looking down at his body again. And why couldn't he remember what happened? Alex hadn't -- he couldn't have...
Jack felt his head spinning worse than before, pulsing and scrambling like the atlas of his spine had turned into the blade of a blender, pureeing his brain. He tried to stand up, breath coming in quick gasps as he looked down at the hand.
He pushed himself up, feet colliding with the floor and almost sending him down as well. And fuck, that hurt. One hand gripped his head, the other fumbled for purchase on something, anything. Something to show him what happened last night. Anything to let him know this wasn't what he thought it was.
His guts were churning in sick anxiety, a mixture of mainly shock and some hangover. The worst of concoctions, bubbling higher and higher in his abdomen.
He slipped to the floor, bare knees scraping against the rug. He hissed at the friction, falling to his hands and knees and dry-heaving.
He couldn't hold it in. He opened his mouth, vomiting all over the brown carpet. Chunks spilled from his lips all over the floor, and he groaned, clutching his stomach.
The noise stirred Alex, and he removed the blanket from himself, looking around for the source of the disgusting sounds.
"Oh fuck!" he shouted, seeing Jack on the floor.
It was way too loud, assaulting Jack's eardrums and making him heave harder. He whimpered, spitting thick saliva as a few tears ran down his cheeks.
"Oh god, oh god," Alex came over, taking his elbow carefully and leading him into the bathroom, putting him in front of the toilet. He crouched behind him, using the heel of his hand to rub soothing circles on his bony back.
Jack wanted to pull away, but felt far too weak for the movement.
He sobbed, falling to the floor in front of the toilet. Alex tried to pick him up, tried to hold him again his body, but Jack struggled away. He may have been weak and fragile, but he couldn't stand to be in the elder's arms.
"Jack," Alex mumbled, reaching out for him again.
"D-don't touch me!" Jack shrieked, pushing his body away towards the tub.
"Jack!" Alex moved quickly, preventing him from falling backwards and quite possibly receiving a terrible injury. "Jack, please, calm down-"
"You shut the fuck up! You fucking rapist!" Jack spat, wiping his lips with one hand and his eyes with the other.
"Rapist?" Alex gaped.
"How could you fucking do this to me?!" Jack screamed, struggling to keep his distance. Tears continuing to streak, staining his face. "How fucking dare you!"
"W-what? Jack! I-I didn-"
"Don't!" Jack yelled, scrambling back and falling over the side of the tub. He fell back into it, cracking his head on the tile. His vision went black for a second, but then the adrenaline kicked in and he shot up, backing himself flat against the wall. "Don't even say my name! You-You're sick!"
Alex blinked, watching blood start to form on the wall. "I swear to fucking god! Nothing happened! Alright?! Nothing! You got fucking shitfaced from the wine, and you thought you were a fucking cat, and you were hitting on me! You don't know shit!" Alex shook his hands violently near his face, trying to get the point across. If he had to scream, so be it. He could raise his voice for this.
"I don't fucking believe that shit!" Jack yelled back. "I don't, I don't, I don't!" He shook his head, causing the blood to run down the white tile and pool on the lip of the tub.
"Jack! You're fucking hurt! Let me help you!" Alex screamed, trying to move closer. Jack moved his head quickly, grabbing the shampoo bottle and chucking it Alex.
"Stay the fuck away from me, you lying, psycho bastard!" he screamed at Alex, who dodged the bottle. "Don't fucking touch me ever again! You make me sick!"
"Jack," Alex said calmly, taking a deep breath. "I promise you, hand to God, nothing happened. I am telling you the honest fucking truth. You were wasted."
"You took advantage of me!" Jack screamed, grabbing the conditioner and lugging it at Alex's head. He moved quickly, but not quick enough as it connected with his shoulder. "You raped me!"
"I don't... I don't know!" Jack screamed, feeling the blood loss start to affect his already so thin body. "But how can you fucking expect me to believe any shit you say after you fucking kidnap me?!"
Alex looked at him for a few seconds, trying to control the emotion running through him. He could feel it coming, the building of tension, the feeling he was going to snap.
"Jack," he said, taking a deep breath. "Believe me, please. Because it's me. Y-you know me."
"I thought I did. Before this... This shit!" Jack shouted, running the back of his left hand across the back of his black hair, and seeing it return, covered in a violent red. "I don't know who you are, Alex, I really fucking don't!"
"You wanna know who I am?!" Alex screamed, standing up straighter. He put his hand to his chest, thudding on it slightly. "I'm fucking Alex Gaskarth. I'm in love with my best fucking friend. But my best fucking friend is oblivious! And I-I fucking bared my soul to him, and his drunk ass fucking LAUGHED in my face." He balled his hands into his fists, holding them at his sides. "You think I'm a fucking joke, Jack! I'm not a fucking joke! I fucking love you! All I want is for you to be mine! Why, why can't you see that?! Why can't you see that I'm dying inside without you?! Why does it take me screaming at you to make you finally realize what is going on between us!"
"Oh? Oh are you? Well, I'm Jack fucking Barakat!" He screamed back, slamming his hands down on either side of his body, and snarling. "You don't know fucking shit, Alex Gaskarth! I laughed at you? Like every fucking time you've laughed at me. Like every time I've told you shit and you didn't even fucking care!" Jack was moving, stepping over the lip of the tub, putting himself inches from Alex's face. Both were red with fury, and in Jack’s case, blood.
"I always cared!" Alex yelled, stepping closer to the younger. "I cared too fucking much! I go fucking crazy with how much I care about you, Jack fucking Barakat," he snarled. "You drove me to this!"
"I drove you to this? You crazy, masochistic fuck!" Jack stepped in more, so close he swore when Alex blinked, he felt a rush of air. "I fucking care about you too! You sicko!" Jack screamed. And his anger was just boiling in his veins, he swore he was going to keel over. Everything was just happening too fast. He didn't even know what was going on. And then his arms are around Alex's neck, and his lips are on his. And it feels like a challenge, which he greedily accepts.
"You selfish cunt," Alex growled, hands wrapping around Jack's skinny forearm's, squeezing hard enough to bruise. He shoved the boy against the bathroom wall, smearing blood across the light blue paint. He crushed his mouth over Jack's, clicking their teeth together. He practically gagged Jack with his tongue, thrusting it into his mouth.
"Fuck you," Jack mumbled, losing himself inside the divots of Alex's mouth, before letting the elder force it back into where it belongs. "You fucking dick." He rutted his hips against Alex's, hard, enough to make Alex gasp and wince in mild pain. It might've hurt Jack too, but he was numb, he was in the moment, and he couldn't get out.
Alex's fingers found purchase in Jack's black hair, tugging on it and making the younger scream into Alex's mouth. Alex could feel the blood coating his fingers, hot and sticky. He moved his hand down, wrapping it behind Jack's neck and pulling him closer. Jack dug his short nails into Alex's arms, cutting the skin and drawing blood up through the crescent shaped cuts. Alex twisted his face to the side, catching Jack's lip in between his teeth and ripping the sensitive skin open. Blood seeped out of it and he whimpered. Alex gripped onto his chin, thumb and index finger digging into the bruise that remained on his cheek.
Jack let out a noise, somewhere between pleasure and pain. He could feel his body growing weaker, the pain in his head making him weave slightly. Alex kept kissing him hungrily, and he continued to kiss back. He fought the growing need to slip off to sleep.
Alex's hands found their way to keep Jack's up, not even caring that he was staining his arms with the blood. In Jack's opinion, if he could've formed coherent thoughts, those arms were the only thing keeping him up at that point. His own slipped down, until his fingers were just holding on to Alex's wrists.
Then, the whole room went black.
Authors:
turnthepageover and
americanaffair
Rating: NC-17 Overall.
Pairing: Eventual Jalex.
Point of View: Third.
Summary: "You think this is fucking funny?! You're sick, Alex! I'm not some animal! I'm not something you can just keep for your entertainment! Come the fuck down here!"
Disclaimer: We don't own them, as much as Bridjet wishes she does, haha ; ) Story title comes from Poison by All Time Low.
Warning: Violence.
Masterpost- turnthepageover.livejournal.com/24842.html
Jack woke up to light. No, not artificial light. Natural light, shining down from the sun. He opened his eyes slowly, groaning. His head pounded, and he didn't know where he was. He looked around slowly, confused.
The room was familiar in the way a repetitive dream is familiar. He knew he'd been here before, but he couldn't put a finger to when, and where he was laying remained hazy inside his throbbing skull.
He sat up carefully, feeling his vision go fuzzy as his head grew dizzy from the movement. He groaned, putting his face in his hands.
Movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention, and he glanced down next to him. There was obviously someone laying next to him, but they were covered by a blanket. The movement came from a hand sticking out from under the sheets. A hand with a yellow rose tattooed on the back of it.
Jack rubbed his eyes and raised his brows. It couldn't be... Could it? The body made soft sleeping noises, and he was so sure he'd heard them before. Even the form looked just like something he'd woken up to for years now in hotel rooms. But it just can't be.
Jack shook his head as faintly as he could, not wanting to worsen his headache, but trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Unfortunately, he still could not. Jack exhaled nervously, lifting the covers from his own body and seeing just boxer shorts. And no chain.
He wasn't chained? He was obviously upstairs, due to the sunlight and unfamiliar room. But why? Why had Alex brought him up here?
His eyes widened, looking down at his body again. And why couldn't he remember what happened? Alex hadn't -- he couldn't have...
Jack felt his head spinning worse than before, pulsing and scrambling like the atlas of his spine had turned into the blade of a blender, pureeing his brain. He tried to stand up, breath coming in quick gasps as he looked down at the hand.
He pushed himself up, feet colliding with the floor and almost sending him down as well. And fuck, that hurt. One hand gripped his head, the other fumbled for purchase on something, anything. Something to show him what happened last night. Anything to let him know this wasn't what he thought it was.
His guts were churning in sick anxiety, a mixture of mainly shock and some hangover. The worst of concoctions, bubbling higher and higher in his abdomen.
He slipped to the floor, bare knees scraping against the rug. He hissed at the friction, falling to his hands and knees and dry-heaving.
He couldn't hold it in. He opened his mouth, vomiting all over the brown carpet. Chunks spilled from his lips all over the floor, and he groaned, clutching his stomach.
The noise stirred Alex, and he removed the blanket from himself, looking around for the source of the disgusting sounds.
"Oh fuck!" he shouted, seeing Jack on the floor.
It was way too loud, assaulting Jack's eardrums and making him heave harder. He whimpered, spitting thick saliva as a few tears ran down his cheeks.
"Oh god, oh god," Alex came over, taking his elbow carefully and leading him into the bathroom, putting him in front of the toilet. He crouched behind him, using the heel of his hand to rub soothing circles on his bony back.
Jack wanted to pull away, but felt far too weak for the movement.
He sobbed, falling to the floor in front of the toilet. Alex tried to pick him up, tried to hold him again his body, but Jack struggled away. He may have been weak and fragile, but he couldn't stand to be in the elder's arms.
"Jack," Alex mumbled, reaching out for him again.
"D-don't touch me!" Jack shrieked, pushing his body away towards the tub.
"Jack!" Alex moved quickly, preventing him from falling backwards and quite possibly receiving a terrible injury. "Jack, please, calm down-"
"You shut the fuck up! You fucking rapist!" Jack spat, wiping his lips with one hand and his eyes with the other.
"Rapist?" Alex gaped.
"How could you fucking do this to me?!" Jack screamed, struggling to keep his distance. Tears continuing to streak, staining his face. "How fucking dare you!"
"W-what? Jack! I-I didn-"
"Don't!" Jack yelled, scrambling back and falling over the side of the tub. He fell back into it, cracking his head on the tile. His vision went black for a second, but then the adrenaline kicked in and he shot up, backing himself flat against the wall. "Don't even say my name! You-You're sick!"
Alex blinked, watching blood start to form on the wall. "I swear to fucking god! Nothing happened! Alright?! Nothing! You got fucking shitfaced from the wine, and you thought you were a fucking cat, and you were hitting on me! You don't know shit!" Alex shook his hands violently near his face, trying to get the point across. If he had to scream, so be it. He could raise his voice for this.
"I don't fucking believe that shit!" Jack yelled back. "I don't, I don't, I don't!" He shook his head, causing the blood to run down the white tile and pool on the lip of the tub.
"Jack! You're fucking hurt! Let me help you!" Alex screamed, trying to move closer. Jack moved his head quickly, grabbing the shampoo bottle and chucking it Alex.
"Stay the fuck away from me, you lying, psycho bastard!" he screamed at Alex, who dodged the bottle. "Don't fucking touch me ever again! You make me sick!"
"Jack," Alex said calmly, taking a deep breath. "I promise you, hand to God, nothing happened. I am telling you the honest fucking truth. You were wasted."
"You took advantage of me!" Jack screamed, grabbing the conditioner and lugging it at Alex's head. He moved quickly, but not quick enough as it connected with his shoulder. "You raped me!"
"I don't... I don't know!" Jack screamed, feeling the blood loss start to affect his already so thin body. "But how can you fucking expect me to believe any shit you say after you fucking kidnap me?!"
Alex looked at him for a few seconds, trying to control the emotion running through him. He could feel it coming, the building of tension, the feeling he was going to snap.
"Jack," he said, taking a deep breath. "Believe me, please. Because it's me. Y-you know me."
"I thought I did. Before this... This shit!" Jack shouted, running the back of his left hand across the back of his black hair, and seeing it return, covered in a violent red. "I don't know who you are, Alex, I really fucking don't!"
"You wanna know who I am?!" Alex screamed, standing up straighter. He put his hand to his chest, thudding on it slightly. "I'm fucking Alex Gaskarth. I'm in love with my best fucking friend. But my best fucking friend is oblivious! And I-I fucking bared my soul to him, and his drunk ass fucking LAUGHED in my face." He balled his hands into his fists, holding them at his sides. "You think I'm a fucking joke, Jack! I'm not a fucking joke! I fucking love you! All I want is for you to be mine! Why, why can't you see that?! Why can't you see that I'm dying inside without you?! Why does it take me screaming at you to make you finally realize what is going on between us!"
"Oh? Oh are you? Well, I'm Jack fucking Barakat!" He screamed back, slamming his hands down on either side of his body, and snarling. "You don't know fucking shit, Alex Gaskarth! I laughed at you? Like every fucking time you've laughed at me. Like every time I've told you shit and you didn't even fucking care!" Jack was moving, stepping over the lip of the tub, putting himself inches from Alex's face. Both were red with fury, and in Jack’s case, blood.
"I always cared!" Alex yelled, stepping closer to the younger. "I cared too fucking much! I go fucking crazy with how much I care about you, Jack fucking Barakat," he snarled. "You drove me to this!"
"I drove you to this? You crazy, masochistic fuck!" Jack stepped in more, so close he swore when Alex blinked, he felt a rush of air. "I fucking care about you too! You sicko!" Jack screamed. And his anger was just boiling in his veins, he swore he was going to keel over. Everything was just happening too fast. He didn't even know what was going on. And then his arms are around Alex's neck, and his lips are on his. And it feels like a challenge, which he greedily accepts.
"You selfish cunt," Alex growled, hands wrapping around Jack's skinny forearm's, squeezing hard enough to bruise. He shoved the boy against the bathroom wall, smearing blood across the light blue paint. He crushed his mouth over Jack's, clicking their teeth together. He practically gagged Jack with his tongue, thrusting it into his mouth.
"Fuck you," Jack mumbled, losing himself inside the divots of Alex's mouth, before letting the elder force it back into where it belongs. "You fucking dick." He rutted his hips against Alex's, hard, enough to make Alex gasp and wince in mild pain. It might've hurt Jack too, but he was numb, he was in the moment, and he couldn't get out.
Alex's fingers found purchase in Jack's black hair, tugging on it and making the younger scream into Alex's mouth. Alex could feel the blood coating his fingers, hot and sticky. He moved his hand down, wrapping it behind Jack's neck and pulling him closer. Jack dug his short nails into Alex's arms, cutting the skin and drawing blood up through the crescent shaped cuts. Alex twisted his face to the side, catching Jack's lip in between his teeth and ripping the sensitive skin open. Blood seeped out of it and he whimpered. Alex gripped onto his chin, thumb and index finger digging into the bruise that remained on his cheek.
Jack let out a noise, somewhere between pleasure and pain. He could feel his body growing weaker, the pain in his head making him weave slightly. Alex kept kissing him hungrily, and he continued to kiss back. He fought the growing need to slip off to sleep.
Alex's hands found their way to keep Jack's up, not even caring that he was staining his arms with the blood. In Jack's opinion, if he could've formed coherent thoughts, those arms were the only thing keeping him up at that point. His own slipped down, until his fingers were just holding on to Alex's wrists.
Then, the whole room went black.