You'll Always Be Beautiful To Me
Title:You'll Always Be Beautiful To Me
Author: Rachel, aka wonderlandcrazy
Pairing: Alex Gaskarth/Josh Fransexyceschi
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of sex
Warnings: Um. Not really, but just in case, I gave Alex a bit of a scar fetish. So, don't read if you can't read things about scars being praised.
Summary: Alex loves scars, all scars, any scars, but will he find someone who loves him?
Notes: So, this is a bit odd because it wasn't originally a fic-I had the first paragraph all typed up in first person because it's how I feel about scars and was gonna post it on tumblr, but I figured no one would read it, so I was just gonna delete it. However, I figured it would make an awesome fic and this was born. I really do love scars (though it's not a fetish), and I even used some of my own stories for Alex's scars. Enjoy!
Alex loved scars. He loved the stories they told of incidents long since passed. He loved the feel of scars, how they were slippery and soft and hairless compared to the skin around them. He loved how they could be hidden or shown off to the world, how the way they looked changed in different lighting. He loved how they were like badges of armor, strewn across the battle field of a body. He loved the way it felt when you dragged a fingernail across a really thick one-how you either felt nothing, or a light stinging tingle. He loved the way they would warp, the color, the shape, and the size proof of the passing of time. He loved that no matter how much it hurt to get, a scar was nothing more than a mark on the landscape of your skin, proving what’s done can cease to hurt. He loved how some lay forgotten, even by their barer, while some were examined every day. He loved how some had stories, and how some had stories more forgotten than the location of Atlantis. Alex loved scars.
Alex also loved counting scars. He himself had eight-some with stories he remembered, some that showed up mysteriously in the morning with nary a hint to their origins. Like the one on his right ankle, a little half moon thing, he noticed that one when he was putting on his socks one day, but he has no idea where it came from. The one on the back of his left calf though, that one he got when he nicked his leg shaving after losing a bet with Jack. The one on his right knee cap came from falling off his bike as a child, and once again, he has no idea where the jagged line on the side of his right wrist came from. He thinks it might have something to do with tequila and Vinny, but that’s a pretty common combination, so he doesn’t pay that theory much attention. He has one on his thumb he got when he cut himself chopping a head of lettuce in half-to this day, salad still reminds him a little of blood. And the one on his head he got when he slipped on stage and banged his head against some speakers, but his hair covers that one. He also has a faint one on the bottom of a foot; he forgets which, from when he stepped on a huge thorn chasing his dog. He also has one on his left elbow he assumes is from another drunken escapade with his friends.
He likes finding out about other people’s scars too, but years of pushing have gotten him to back off of asking. He’s discovered a lot of people don’t love scars as much as he does, and yeah, that kind of sucks, because scars are beautiful, and he wished everyone could love their scars as much as he did. But it’s made him a subtler person, believe it or not, scoping out people to decide whether they would mind being asked or not. And really, little scars don’t interest him much; while he knows that stories behind those are worth listening to, it’s the big scars that get him. The kind of scars that are obvious, and deep, scars that practically ooze a good tale. This is his downfall though, because he’s discovered through trial and error over the years that it’s the big scars that people are most ashamed of. And it’s taken him years to finally realize that no matter how many times or ways you ask, people don’t like to talk about them, because he can’t understand why they wouldn’t. He still can’t comprehend hating scars. Not that he’d ever intentionally inflict a scar, mind you, he’s too much of a pain wimp for that. But it’s safe to say scars are a bit of a fetish for him.
Since, not only does he loving hearing about scars, no, it’s much more than that. He loves touching, licking, tasting, feeling, nibbling, admiring. Scars aren’t the only way to turn him on, but they damn sure help if his partner happens to have one visible during the process. Like that one Lisa had behind her ear that he could see every time they did it from behind. He always wondered why she never asked why that was his favorite position, but didn’t push the matter. You see, most people just don’t understand why he loves scars so much. And, frankly, he’s gotten tired of trying to explain it to every partner, to try and put his feelings into words. Which shouldn’t be hard for him, really, being a lyricist and all, but for some reason he could never even begin to wrestle this feeling into words that other people could understand, could connect with. So he gave up trying. He gave up on ever finding someone who didn’t necessarily share his fetish, but at least respected it for what it was and didn’t treat him like some weird freak about it. That is, until he met Josh.
He remembers the first day he met Josh. It was a hot, hot summer’s day on Warped Tour, and Alex was popping in and out of different buses, trying to find someone to either buy or give him alcohol since he was out of money and out of booze. He had no luck until the last bus, but really, what else would you expect from a bunch of musicians who wanted to get drunk themselves, not pay for someone else to? The last bus though, there he hit gold. The door was opened by a British boy, who couldn’t have been older than 20. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a cheeky smile that sent butterflies through Alex’s stomach. Most importantly though, he was willing to give Alex money for booze, as long as Alex bought some for Josh’s band as well. His band had been bemoaning the fact that the drinking age was three years higher in the states, and was willing to pay for Alex as long as it meant they got their poison. And get their poison they did, to this day Alex only has vague memories of what happened after they left the liquor store. He does remember though waking up the next day in his bunk naked with a terrible hangover, and an equally naked and hangover addled Josh wrapped around him.
And maybe things should have been awkward then, maybe things shouldn’t have worked out the way they did. But when the first thing Josh did upon waking was shoot Alex the sweetest, cheekiest smile he had ever seen in his life, he realized he didn’t much care how the world would expect this to end and kissed him anyway, morning/hangover breath and all. For the next month, everyone was waiting for the shit to hit the fan, but for some reason, it didn’t. The odd start for the relationship worked for them, and they got on like a house on fire. Maybe it should have though, maybe it would have been better for them, easier. Because come August 22nd, they realized they had fallen too hard to fast for each other, and just in time for Josh to fly back to Britain. Goodbyes were said and promises were made to be broken as Josh was dragged onto the plane and out of Alex’s arms for what they both thought was for good. But several skype dates, long phone calls, and impromptu plane trips later they had finally settled into a relationship that seemed like it might just work if they tried hard enough.
It had been a year since that fateful Warped Tour now, and Alex still had yet to explain or even mention his fetish to Josh. Which Alex had started to find a bit odd, considering Josh has never even asked him why he never tops once, or why he likes to ride Josh so much, or why he’s obsessed with that one spot on his neck. It’s actually bothering hi this time though-with past relationships, friend or lover, he’s never felt this burning need to explain his scar thing to the other person. However, with Josh, it’s become this low simmering burn in the back of his subconscious, lurking, pushing forward and stinging every time they did anything sexual. Which-they were both around 21 years of age, so they did sexual things a lot. And now it’s wrapped itself in a coat of guilt, making it hard to enjoy those sexual things. Which is truly saying something because the things Josh can do with his fingers and lips and tongue and hips reduce Alex to a whimpering mess every time. Josh has in fact picked up on it, even though Alex hasn’t realized this. Josh decided a long time ago Alex talks when he wants too, and instead simply responds to his non-verbal words, letting Alex do what he liked best. And it worked for Josh too, the things Alex did, like riding him slow and filthy, and nibbling on his neck in the process-it turned him on in ways he hadn’t even thought were possible.
Alex is a bit more than oblivious sometimes though, so one year six months into their relationship, and he’s about to tear his hair out from guilt. He’s (finally) resolved to tell Josh, or try to anyway, the next time things head in a sexual direction. Which will probably be soon, since Josh was flying in to Baltimore that day. So, wouldn’t you know, that very night things were heating up considerably in Alex’s bed (with Sebastian safely locked out of the room), when Alex finally kept his promise to himself and pushed Josh off, explaining that he needed to tell him something. And, for once-someone got it. Josh simply laughed at Alex’s face, pulled him into his chest and kissed him deeply, and that’s when Alex knew he had found the one.
By their second anniversary, Alex had learned the stories behind all of Josh’s scars, and Josh had learned all the one’s behind Alex’s. Josh always made sure Alex could reach at least one scar during sex, and Alex rewarded him with food, more sexual favors, and pretty jewelry. To be more specific, a platinum band that’s been hiding on a shelf in his hall closet for two months now. His plans to propose had been interrupted by a flying wine bottle and a broken table, and he hadn’t found the right moment since. Not to mention he was absolutely terrified. He loved Josh with all his heart, but this proposal would change so many things it made his head spin just thinking about it. But then Josh showed up on his doorstep one day, rambling about how he didn’t have the money right now, but as soon as he did, he was gonna buy Alex a ring; because dammit, he loved him to death and even though he was terrified of what that meant he couldn’t take it any longer with Alex not knowing. Alex was stunned, and nearly took Josh’s arm off dragging him to the hall closet, throwing things off the top shelf until he grasped box, quickly dropping to one knee and opening it. Josh laughed until he cried, and they celebrated their epic, crazy timing by having hot sweaty sex all night, and all over the house.
And for the second time in their relationship, something that probably shouldn’t have worked did. They split their time 50/50 in each country, which sounds crazy, but neither liked staying in one place for long anyway. And when one went on tour the other returned to his home country until said tour was over. The fans took it pretty well to, which was something they never could have guessed.
And to this day, Alex still loves scars and Josh, and Josh still loves Alex and his fetish, and they will until they die.
Author: Rachel, aka wonderlandcrazy
Pairing: Alex Gaskarth/Josh Fransexyceschi
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of sex
Warnings: Um. Not really, but just in case, I gave Alex a bit of a scar fetish. So, don't read if you can't read things about scars being praised.
Summary: Alex loves scars, all scars, any scars, but will he find someone who loves him?
Notes: So, this is a bit odd because it wasn't originally a fic-I had the first paragraph all typed up in first person because it's how I feel about scars and was gonna post it on tumblr, but I figured no one would read it, so I was just gonna delete it. However, I figured it would make an awesome fic and this was born. I really do love scars (though it's not a fetish), and I even used some of my own stories for Alex's scars. Enjoy!
Alex loved scars. He loved the stories they told of incidents long since passed. He loved the feel of scars, how they were slippery and soft and hairless compared to the skin around them. He loved how they could be hidden or shown off to the world, how the way they looked changed in different lighting. He loved how they were like badges of armor, strewn across the battle field of a body. He loved the way it felt when you dragged a fingernail across a really thick one-how you either felt nothing, or a light stinging tingle. He loved the way they would warp, the color, the shape, and the size proof of the passing of time. He loved that no matter how much it hurt to get, a scar was nothing more than a mark on the landscape of your skin, proving what’s done can cease to hurt. He loved how some lay forgotten, even by their barer, while some were examined every day. He loved how some had stories, and how some had stories more forgotten than the location of Atlantis. Alex loved scars.
Alex also loved counting scars. He himself had eight-some with stories he remembered, some that showed up mysteriously in the morning with nary a hint to their origins. Like the one on his right ankle, a little half moon thing, he noticed that one when he was putting on his socks one day, but he has no idea where it came from. The one on the back of his left calf though, that one he got when he nicked his leg shaving after losing a bet with Jack. The one on his right knee cap came from falling off his bike as a child, and once again, he has no idea where the jagged line on the side of his right wrist came from. He thinks it might have something to do with tequila and Vinny, but that’s a pretty common combination, so he doesn’t pay that theory much attention. He has one on his thumb he got when he cut himself chopping a head of lettuce in half-to this day, salad still reminds him a little of blood. And the one on his head he got when he slipped on stage and banged his head against some speakers, but his hair covers that one. He also has a faint one on the bottom of a foot; he forgets which, from when he stepped on a huge thorn chasing his dog. He also has one on his left elbow he assumes is from another drunken escapade with his friends.
He likes finding out about other people’s scars too, but years of pushing have gotten him to back off of asking. He’s discovered a lot of people don’t love scars as much as he does, and yeah, that kind of sucks, because scars are beautiful, and he wished everyone could love their scars as much as he did. But it’s made him a subtler person, believe it or not, scoping out people to decide whether they would mind being asked or not. And really, little scars don’t interest him much; while he knows that stories behind those are worth listening to, it’s the big scars that get him. The kind of scars that are obvious, and deep, scars that practically ooze a good tale. This is his downfall though, because he’s discovered through trial and error over the years that it’s the big scars that people are most ashamed of. And it’s taken him years to finally realize that no matter how many times or ways you ask, people don’t like to talk about them, because he can’t understand why they wouldn’t. He still can’t comprehend hating scars. Not that he’d ever intentionally inflict a scar, mind you, he’s too much of a pain wimp for that. But it’s safe to say scars are a bit of a fetish for him.
Since, not only does he loving hearing about scars, no, it’s much more than that. He loves touching, licking, tasting, feeling, nibbling, admiring. Scars aren’t the only way to turn him on, but they damn sure help if his partner happens to have one visible during the process. Like that one Lisa had behind her ear that he could see every time they did it from behind. He always wondered why she never asked why that was his favorite position, but didn’t push the matter. You see, most people just don’t understand why he loves scars so much. And, frankly, he’s gotten tired of trying to explain it to every partner, to try and put his feelings into words. Which shouldn’t be hard for him, really, being a lyricist and all, but for some reason he could never even begin to wrestle this feeling into words that other people could understand, could connect with. So he gave up trying. He gave up on ever finding someone who didn’t necessarily share his fetish, but at least respected it for what it was and didn’t treat him like some weird freak about it. That is, until he met Josh.
He remembers the first day he met Josh. It was a hot, hot summer’s day on Warped Tour, and Alex was popping in and out of different buses, trying to find someone to either buy or give him alcohol since he was out of money and out of booze. He had no luck until the last bus, but really, what else would you expect from a bunch of musicians who wanted to get drunk themselves, not pay for someone else to? The last bus though, there he hit gold. The door was opened by a British boy, who couldn’t have been older than 20. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and a cheeky smile that sent butterflies through Alex’s stomach. Most importantly though, he was willing to give Alex money for booze, as long as Alex bought some for Josh’s band as well. His band had been bemoaning the fact that the drinking age was three years higher in the states, and was willing to pay for Alex as long as it meant they got their poison. And get their poison they did, to this day Alex only has vague memories of what happened after they left the liquor store. He does remember though waking up the next day in his bunk naked with a terrible hangover, and an equally naked and hangover addled Josh wrapped around him.
And maybe things should have been awkward then, maybe things shouldn’t have worked out the way they did. But when the first thing Josh did upon waking was shoot Alex the sweetest, cheekiest smile he had ever seen in his life, he realized he didn’t much care how the world would expect this to end and kissed him anyway, morning/hangover breath and all. For the next month, everyone was waiting for the shit to hit the fan, but for some reason, it didn’t. The odd start for the relationship worked for them, and they got on like a house on fire. Maybe it should have though, maybe it would have been better for them, easier. Because come August 22nd, they realized they had fallen too hard to fast for each other, and just in time for Josh to fly back to Britain. Goodbyes were said and promises were made to be broken as Josh was dragged onto the plane and out of Alex’s arms for what they both thought was for good. But several skype dates, long phone calls, and impromptu plane trips later they had finally settled into a relationship that seemed like it might just work if they tried hard enough.
It had been a year since that fateful Warped Tour now, and Alex still had yet to explain or even mention his fetish to Josh. Which Alex had started to find a bit odd, considering Josh has never even asked him why he never tops once, or why he likes to ride Josh so much, or why he’s obsessed with that one spot on his neck. It’s actually bothering hi this time though-with past relationships, friend or lover, he’s never felt this burning need to explain his scar thing to the other person. However, with Josh, it’s become this low simmering burn in the back of his subconscious, lurking, pushing forward and stinging every time they did anything sexual. Which-they were both around 21 years of age, so they did sexual things a lot. And now it’s wrapped itself in a coat of guilt, making it hard to enjoy those sexual things. Which is truly saying something because the things Josh can do with his fingers and lips and tongue and hips reduce Alex to a whimpering mess every time. Josh has in fact picked up on it, even though Alex hasn’t realized this. Josh decided a long time ago Alex talks when he wants too, and instead simply responds to his non-verbal words, letting Alex do what he liked best. And it worked for Josh too, the things Alex did, like riding him slow and filthy, and nibbling on his neck in the process-it turned him on in ways he hadn’t even thought were possible.
Alex is a bit more than oblivious sometimes though, so one year six months into their relationship, and he’s about to tear his hair out from guilt. He’s (finally) resolved to tell Josh, or try to anyway, the next time things head in a sexual direction. Which will probably be soon, since Josh was flying in to Baltimore that day. So, wouldn’t you know, that very night things were heating up considerably in Alex’s bed (with Sebastian safely locked out of the room), when Alex finally kept his promise to himself and pushed Josh off, explaining that he needed to tell him something. And, for once-someone got it. Josh simply laughed at Alex’s face, pulled him into his chest and kissed him deeply, and that’s when Alex knew he had found the one.
By their second anniversary, Alex had learned the stories behind all of Josh’s scars, and Josh had learned all the one’s behind Alex’s. Josh always made sure Alex could reach at least one scar during sex, and Alex rewarded him with food, more sexual favors, and pretty jewelry. To be more specific, a platinum band that’s been hiding on a shelf in his hall closet for two months now. His plans to propose had been interrupted by a flying wine bottle and a broken table, and he hadn’t found the right moment since. Not to mention he was absolutely terrified. He loved Josh with all his heart, but this proposal would change so many things it made his head spin just thinking about it. But then Josh showed up on his doorstep one day, rambling about how he didn’t have the money right now, but as soon as he did, he was gonna buy Alex a ring; because dammit, he loved him to death and even though he was terrified of what that meant he couldn’t take it any longer with Alex not knowing. Alex was stunned, and nearly took Josh’s arm off dragging him to the hall closet, throwing things off the top shelf until he grasped box, quickly dropping to one knee and opening it. Josh laughed until he cried, and they celebrated their epic, crazy timing by having hot sweaty sex all night, and all over the house.
And for the second time in their relationship, something that probably shouldn’t have worked did. They split their time 50/50 in each country, which sounds crazy, but neither liked staying in one place for long anyway. And when one went on tour the other returned to his home country until said tour was over. The fans took it pretty well to, which was something they never could have guessed.
And to this day, Alex still loves scars and Josh, and Josh still loves Alex and his fetish, and they will until they die.