eleveneleven [8/15]
Title: eleveneleven [8/15]
Author: asphyxiatide/marina.
Rating: nc-17 i guess.
Pairing: alex gaskarth/zack merrick
Summary: zack and alex meet in front of a 7-11, they start watching movies together, and before long, zack finds himself desperately begging alex to get a new job. bribery ensues.
Warnings: gratuitous potty mouth, horror movie fanatic (and resulting gory things), excessive girl pants jokes, badly typed accents, boys kissing, boys dancing suggestively, boys hitting on each other on dance floor, hookers, boisecks (well, eventually), condom people.
Disclaimer: as far as my characters, i just stole them and turned them gay and made one of them a hooker. movies and content discussed = property of the respective owners. plot and most dialogue = property of author/marina/me. if you got here by googling your name, please click that little x button at the top corner of your screen.
Dedications: OLIVER SCOTT SYKES. because he makes me hfjdgslkdhfg and if we went back in time in a time machine i'd sit on the rock with him and we'd watch a t rex go by.
Author Notes: uh, this is the naughty dancing chapter. so. i feel kind of awkward posting this, but. anyway. i'm sure you won't mind it.
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
Alex just liked to dance. We had been dancing for an hour then. Alex let himself go, letting the rhythm roll through his ribcage and waist and hips, melting into it, half-closing his eyes and running one hand through his hair. His lips curved up into a smile when he saw me trying to mimic him.
"Good luck, kid," he breathed.
Alex was ready for something to happen, anything. He wanted to believe we were both shitfaced out of our minds, but I was just as sober as any other day since I'd been ordering virgins ever since we showed up. Of course, Alex didn't know that, because he was shitfaced out of his mind.
“You look gorgeous,” Alex cooed, and I wondered what the fuck he was thinking, grinding against another boy's hips like he was, but I had no problem whatsoever with his presence. “I need you,” he smirked, and without waiting for a response, he flipped me around and pressed himself against me, so we were back-to-front, and God could that boy dance.
Our hips found the beat together, pressing tight, and I melded myself against Alex's chest and let my hips flow deeper into the rhythm. His fingers laced with mine, and he brought both of our hands to rest dangerously high on my thighs, his breath hot on the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, making my pulse race in all sorts of deliciously unexpected ways.
I couldn't believe I was dancing like a hooker, with a hooker.
I leaned into Alex's chest, bodies rocking in unison. The beat thudded in my head and his arms snaked around my waist, tugging me close, fingers dragging across my shirt and sticking against my skin, both damp with sweat. I reached a hand back to wind into his hair and arched my back, grinding into his hips. Alex cooed a quiet noise of approval and leaned over my shoulder, then whispered,
"Where did this Zack come from?"
I twirled Alex around, wrapping my arm around his neck and pulling him back into my chest.
"Alex," I replied simply.
"God, I want you," Alex whined, rocking his hip bones into me.
"I want you," I repeated into his ear.
"I want you," he breathed, "in me."
"I want you in me too," I giggled.
"Let me in, baby."
"Not tonight," I teased, nipping his ear with my front teeth.
"Fuck," he murmured.
"When's your birthday, babe?" I asked.
"December fourteenth."
"Maybe I'll get you a little present," I whispered, hand going down to his belt buckle. Alex moaned through his teeth and into my ear, either out of relief or because of the increasing friction between our bodies.
"I can't wait," he groaned. "I'm counting the days, and there's seventeen left."
"Eighteen," I corrected casually.
"Seventeen if you don't count today," Alex slurred, hips bucking forward to force my hand down. He was half-hard now, a slight bulge filling my palm.
"If it's past midnight there's only sixteen," I added, pressing my lips to his throat. He groaned into my hair again.
"I just need you, Zack," Alex begged, fingers pulling at my skin, his nerves aching, heart pumping, needing contact.
"You'll have me in eighteen, or seventeen, or sixteen days."
Alex abruptly shook his head from my grasp and crashed his lips into mine, hungry and urgent and desperate, teeth nipping at lips and slipping tongues, fingers grasping for holds, throbbing blood vessels and thrusting hips. He gasped for air, stared into my eyes for permission, and went in for seconds, sucking my lower lip into his mouth.
I guess the fact that Guilty Pleasure was fading out and The Birds and the Bees was fading in might've had something to do with it, but I suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to blurt the five most idiotic words I could've blurted.
"You should be my boyfriend," I declared.
"Okay," Alex announced.
Then, and it definitely had everything to do with the fact that The Birds and the Bees was pounding our eardrums in, the whole dance floor crushed in on itself and moved in waves, suffocating down on its own metaphorical ribcage. It was obvious that this song was a popular one. My boyfriend kissed me again, our bodies forcing themselves into each other, the heat from the people around us soaking in. The whole crowd then began to pulsate like a subwoofer. It folded in on itself, convulsing and pounding. Each body melted into those around it, moving in unison, screaming the words, but not Alex and me. Our lips were busy.
Then I woke up.
Head check. Legs intact. Arms are good. Carpals, tarsals, metacarpals, metatarsals, phalanges. Eyelids work.
They fluttered open, the music from the speakers coming softly into my ears. I rolled over automatically, arm curling around Alex's chest. Northern Downpour was beginning to play. The words seemed appropriate to sing; I joined in halfway through the first verse, whispering in Alex's ear.
"'Cause diamonds do appear to be, just like broken glass to me."
Alex turned his head up and wordlessly pressed his lips to mine. He giggled into the kiss and pulled away, and as he tittered with laughter, he remembered.
"You're dating a hooker. Dumbass."
Author: asphyxiatide/marina.
Rating: nc-17 i guess.
Pairing: alex gaskarth/zack merrick
Summary: zack and alex meet in front of a 7-11, they start watching movies together, and before long, zack finds himself desperately begging alex to get a new job. bribery ensues.
Warnings: gratuitous potty mouth, horror movie fanatic (and resulting gory things), excessive girl pants jokes, badly typed accents, boys kissing, boys dancing suggestively, boys hitting on each other on dance floor, hookers, boisecks (well, eventually), condom people.
Disclaimer: as far as my characters, i just stole them and turned them gay and made one of them a hooker. movies and content discussed = property of the respective owners. plot and most dialogue = property of author/marina/me. if you got here by googling your name, please click that little x button at the top corner of your screen.
Dedications: OLIVER SCOTT SYKES. because he makes me hfjdgslkdhfg and if we went back in time in a time machine i'd sit on the rock with him and we'd watch a t rex go by.
Author Notes: uh, this is the naughty dancing chapter. so. i feel kind of awkward posting this, but. anyway. i'm sure you won't mind it.
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
Alex just liked to dance. We had been dancing for an hour then. Alex let himself go, letting the rhythm roll through his ribcage and waist and hips, melting into it, half-closing his eyes and running one hand through his hair. His lips curved up into a smile when he saw me trying to mimic him.
"Good luck, kid," he breathed.
Alex was ready for something to happen, anything. He wanted to believe we were both shitfaced out of our minds, but I was just as sober as any other day since I'd been ordering virgins ever since we showed up. Of course, Alex didn't know that, because he was shitfaced out of his mind.
“You look gorgeous,” Alex cooed, and I wondered what the fuck he was thinking, grinding against another boy's hips like he was, but I had no problem whatsoever with his presence. “I need you,” he smirked, and without waiting for a response, he flipped me around and pressed himself against me, so we were back-to-front, and God could that boy dance.
Our hips found the beat together, pressing tight, and I melded myself against Alex's chest and let my hips flow deeper into the rhythm. His fingers laced with mine, and he brought both of our hands to rest dangerously high on my thighs, his breath hot on the side of my neck, sending shivers down my spine, making my pulse race in all sorts of deliciously unexpected ways.
I couldn't believe I was dancing like a hooker, with a hooker.
I leaned into Alex's chest, bodies rocking in unison. The beat thudded in my head and his arms snaked around my waist, tugging me close, fingers dragging across my shirt and sticking against my skin, both damp with sweat. I reached a hand back to wind into his hair and arched my back, grinding into his hips. Alex cooed a quiet noise of approval and leaned over my shoulder, then whispered,
"Where did this Zack come from?"
I twirled Alex around, wrapping my arm around his neck and pulling him back into my chest.
"Alex," I replied simply.
"God, I want you," Alex whined, rocking his hip bones into me.
"I want you," I repeated into his ear.
"I want you," he breathed, "in me."
"I want you in me too," I giggled.
"Let me in, baby."
"Not tonight," I teased, nipping his ear with my front teeth.
"Fuck," he murmured.
"When's your birthday, babe?" I asked.
"December fourteenth."
"Maybe I'll get you a little present," I whispered, hand going down to his belt buckle. Alex moaned through his teeth and into my ear, either out of relief or because of the increasing friction between our bodies.
"I can't wait," he groaned. "I'm counting the days, and there's seventeen left."
"Eighteen," I corrected casually.
"Seventeen if you don't count today," Alex slurred, hips bucking forward to force my hand down. He was half-hard now, a slight bulge filling my palm.
"If it's past midnight there's only sixteen," I added, pressing my lips to his throat. He groaned into my hair again.
"I just need you, Zack," Alex begged, fingers pulling at my skin, his nerves aching, heart pumping, needing contact.
"You'll have me in eighteen, or seventeen, or sixteen days."
Alex abruptly shook his head from my grasp and crashed his lips into mine, hungry and urgent and desperate, teeth nipping at lips and slipping tongues, fingers grasping for holds, throbbing blood vessels and thrusting hips. He gasped for air, stared into my eyes for permission, and went in for seconds, sucking my lower lip into his mouth.
I guess the fact that Guilty Pleasure was fading out and The Birds and the Bees was fading in might've had something to do with it, but I suddenly had the uncontrollable urge to blurt the five most idiotic words I could've blurted.
"You should be my boyfriend," I declared.
"Okay," Alex announced.
Then, and it definitely had everything to do with the fact that The Birds and the Bees was pounding our eardrums in, the whole dance floor crushed in on itself and moved in waves, suffocating down on its own metaphorical ribcage. It was obvious that this song was a popular one. My boyfriend kissed me again, our bodies forcing themselves into each other, the heat from the people around us soaking in. The whole crowd then began to pulsate like a subwoofer. It folded in on itself, convulsing and pounding. Each body melted into those around it, moving in unison, screaming the words, but not Alex and me. Our lips were busy.
Then I woke up.
Head check. Legs intact. Arms are good. Carpals, tarsals, metacarpals, metatarsals, phalanges. Eyelids work.
They fluttered open, the music from the speakers coming softly into my ears. I rolled over automatically, arm curling around Alex's chest. Northern Downpour was beginning to play. The words seemed appropriate to sing; I joined in halfway through the first verse, whispering in Alex's ear.
"'Cause diamonds do appear to be, just like broken glass to me."
Alex turned his head up and wordlessly pressed his lips to mine. He giggled into the kiss and pulled away, and as he tittered with laughter, he remembered.
"You're dating a hooker. Dumbass."