LA (S/A)

[mortalthread]

Title: LA
Author: Zee a.k.a. jabberwocky129 
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Jack/Alex, very minor Gabe/Jack
Summary: Jack hates LA.
Disclaimer: Does not own. Does not want to be sued. Kthxbai.
Dedications: My  Beta, the lovely katelynelaine  And americanaffair for getting me on a Gabe kick...oh how he needs to be used more often...
Author's Notes: So, okay. I know Jack apparently loves LA. For the sake of fiction...can we pretend he doesn't? :)  Crossposted to exit_poll_amen 

 

Jack hates LA. He really does. He doesn’t show it, but if he had a choice he’d rather be recording shit demos in his basement again with an outdated program on Rian’s crap laptop.

He sighs, pressing his forehead against the window. He shuts his eyes, feeling the city press in against him, even through the thick pane of glass. He can still see the flashes of lights from the cars below; the heat from earlier in the day still present in the pavement; even the sounds of tourist’s cameras flashing. He feels his throat stick and he swallows. He’s only seen the inside of a studio in all the time he’s been here and he’s happy to keep it that way. He turns his head slightly, feeling the cool glass under his skin and he inhales deeply. A shout from the other room ruins his quiet moment and he looks up, seeing Alex jog in, cell phone in hand. He’s smiling widely and he slides up behind him, flattening a palm between his shoulder blades. He shoves his phone into Jack’s face.

“I got a text.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “I can see that, dumbass.”

Alex shakes his head. “Nah, bro; we got plans tonight, shower and change. Pete wants us there in an hour.”

Jack looks at him as he scurries away and furrows his brow. “Where?”

“Angels and Kings, man. Let’s go get fucked up!”

Jack bangs his head against the window, feeling the warmth of Alex’s hand on his back creeping along his spine.

Yeah, he hates LA.

　

Angels and Kings is crowded with the type of people Jack doesn’t associate with. He glances up from his spot on the couch and takes a look around. Granted, the place is cool and everything, but he’s starting to feel uncomfortable. He’s got Gabe next to him; he can feel the couch dipping every so often as the drunken front man of Cobra Starship talks animatedly. He’s starting to feel the effects of the alcohol and the music spinning is giving him a headache. He smiles and nods as Gabe nudges him even though he's been tuning out the conversation. He excuses himself to the bathroom to find solace from the maddening crowd. He splashes some water on his face and looks at himself in the mirror. His phone buzzes in his pocket and he flips it out, sliding his thumb down the screen to unlock it. Alex’s drunk face appears before him with a text under it asking him, in horrendous spelling, where he’s at. He shakes his head, and then heads back out into the bar. He slides his eyes around the room, seeing Gabe waving his arms around and dancing as he’s talking. The crowd consisting of Pete, the rest of Cobra sans Vicky, and a few of Pete’s entourage are smiling and laughing at his antics. He scans the rest of the room only to see Alex drunkenly hanging over someone he doesn’t recognize. Alex meets his gaze, gives him a drunken smile, and then slides off the guy he’s hanging on. He grabs his drink and walks his way onto the dance floor and Jack watches as he sees a girl come up to him. She looks vaguely like every other groupie Jack has ever seen; bottle blond, decent rack, shorts cut up to her crotch. Jack rolls his eyes and takes a swig out of his drink. He feels himself choke on the beverage as Alex starts to dance with her. After a song, she nods and he turns away from her. Instead, there’s the guy from before, and Alex more or less drapes himself over him again and they begin dancing.

Jack feels his lids slip half-shut and he feels heat as he watches them from under his lashes. He can feel sweat starting to bead as he watches Alex grind against the guy. The guy leans down, whispering something to the singer and Alex cackles a laugh; one of those high pitched ones he reserves for when he’s had enough to drink.

Jack turns away, feeling a tendril of jealousy start to wind in his stomach. Or maybe it’s the alcohol; he can’t tell at this point. He hears Pete’s unmistakable laugh and he glances back to the crowd behind him. Gabe’s flailing and telling some story about a girl he’s met. He smiles at the sight, and then Gabe looks up. They meet eyes above the crowd and Gabe motions him over. Jack glances back at Alex. Seeing him still dancing, he turns back to Gabe.

“’Sup?” Gabe flaps an arm and pulls him to his side as Jack gets closer. He can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I need you to help me with a demonstration. Don’t mind a little guy on guy action, do you?” Jack feels something hot shoot through him and he wordlessly shakes his head. Gabe beams at him then turns back to the crowd. “So, as I’m walking away, she grabs me and the next thing I know-”

He turns to Jack, and grabs him by the upper arms. He slides a hand up to his face and cups his cheek gently before pressing his lips to Jack's in a crushing kiss. Jack forgets himself for a moment, and then fists a hand in Gabe’s shirt. He presses back a little and then Gabe shoves his tongue into his mouth, moaning something obscene. The kiss softens suddenly and Jack opens his eyes to see Gabe staring back at him. He presses his forehead against his and flicks his dark eyes behind Jack. He leans back in, kissing him once more before smirking. Jack pulls away from him, breathless. He fights against the flush he knows is coming. He wills his composure back and he smiles at the crowd. He stills as he hears a stuttered noise behind him. He whirls around, seeing Alex standing next to the couch Pete is occupying. Jack can feel his eyes roaming up and down his body and, when they finally catch his, they’re blown wide and Jack can see he’s flushed even in the dim lighting. Gabe’s arms are still firmly around him and he can hear him relaying the rest of the story to Pete and everyone else. He tries to pull slightly away from him, but Gabe draws him back and presses his face into Jack’s cheek.

“Think that did the trick?” he whispers.

Jack quirks an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

Gabe shuts his eyes and huffs a laugh against his skin. “If he didn‘t look like he was about to jump you, I think I would have escorted you home,” Gabe breathes and Jack shivers.

“And I don’t think I would have minded.“

Gabe smiles at him warmly. “But it looks like you got another thing coming. Rain check?”

Jack nods as Gabe draws him tightly to his chest and hugs him. He kisses his temple and pushes him gently toward Alex. Jack glances back at Gabe, looking for some kind of help as his front man grabs him. Gabe only smiles and turns back to his crowd. Jack feels himself spin, and then he finds himself in Alex’s grip.

“What the hell was all that about?”

Jack rips his arm from his grasp and purses his lips. He shakes his head and makes his way toward the bar. He plants himself on a stool and lowers his head after he orders. He runs a hand through his hair and rubs at the back of his neck. The bartender sets a napkin down and he can hear the ice crackling as liquor is poured over it. He feels hands on his shoulders and he shudders. The hands grip his shoulders and dig in.

“Scotch?” a voice asks against his ear. Jack swallows and nods. He downs the drink in two gulps and he turns his head, looking at Alex with half-lidded eyes. He pushes his forehead against his cheek.

“You’re drunk.”

Alex nods. “So are you.” He nips playfully at his ear and giggles drunkenly. “What did Saporta have to say?” Jack shakes his head, nearly falling off the stool. He gropes blindly for Alex and feels the singer grab him by the arms. Jack may be taller, but Alex has more muscle and he generally uses it to his advantage. “You have any more to drink and you’re going to be laid out flat,” Alex mumbles and grabs Jack by the crook of an elbow. He pats Pete on the shoulder, wishes him a goodnight, and waves to the rest of the crowd. Jack looks at Gabe and the older man saunters over.

“Gaskarth, hold up a second.” Alex nods, handing Jack off to him and he goes to hug Nate and Suarez. Gabe pulls Jack into a hug and slides a hand into his back pocket. He pulls it out and Jack feels something he left behind. He fumbles for his back pocket and Gabe laughs. “For later.”

Jack feels his fingers brush over a condom wrapper and he grins at him. Seconds later he feels the cool night air on his skin and he finds himself ushered into a cab. The ride home is uneventful aside from feeling Alex stealing a glance at him every so often. They pull up to the apartment and both of them throw a few dollars into the driver’s hand. Jack fishes his keys out of his pocket and feels Alex grab him and haul him up the stairs. No sooner are the keys in the door that Alex has his hands wrapped in Jack’s shirt and is slamming him up against the wall.

“What-”

Alex growls and pulls him away from the wall, only to slam him back into it. “You and Gabe-”

“It was just-” Alex surges forward, capturing him in a kiss. Jack growls and pushes him away. “Alex-”

“Mine,” the singer mumbles, attaching his lips to Jack’s neck and biting hard enough to mark. The guitarist feels his heart start racing and Alex grinding into him. The older man is hard and Jack flails his hands, grabbing Alex’s sides and pulling him in closer. The singer moans softly against his skin and Jack grabs Alex’s head, pulling him up to kiss him roughly. He wiggles out of his jacket and he and Alex fumble backwards. Jack hits the dining room chairs and yelps softly as Alex pushes him backward onto the table. He goes immediately for his belt and uses deft fingers to pop the button on his jeans. He yanks the zipper down roughly and Jack shakes his head. He grabs Alex’s wrists and locks his fingers around them. Alex pulls back a little, eyes blazing, and Jack starts breathing heavily through his nose.

“Problem with Gabe?” Jack asks quietly. Alex flushes and shakes his head.

“No, it was fucking hot . . .”

“You dancing was hot,” Jack mutters and surges forward, pushing Alex back and pinning him against the wall. He keeps his wrists in his hands and moves them above Alex’s head. The singer slouches some, pushing his pelvis out against Jack and the guitarist presses his hips against him. He kisses him hard, all tongue and teeth and Alex struggles against him. He manages to get free and he shoves Jack toward the kitchen. He pins him against the counter and Jack hooks his legs around Alex's waist. Alex hauls him up onto the counter, tugging his shirt collar down and starts to lick his collarbone. He bites down hard and Jack yelps. Blunt nails rake down Alex’s side and the singer shivers. He feels Jack getting harder and roughly pushes a hand against him through his jeans. Jack bangs his head against the cabinets and moans loudly. He hisses a soft breath and Alex slides a hand up his shirt to toy with his nipples. Jack feels his cock twitch and he hunches over, tugging Alex’s head up to kiss him. “Bedroom, now.”

Alex shakes his head. “Floor.”

Jack shoves him gently. “Carpet.”

“Good enough.” He hops off the counter and Alex pushes him to the carpet. He wildly goes for his jeans, tugging them off, and then straddles Jack. He pulls Jack’s jeans and boxers down and spits into his hand. Jack attempts to flip them over and Alex grunts, laying his weight on him. “I’m on top.”

Jack swallows thickly beneath him and he spits into his hand again. He coats three fingers and slides them underneath the younger man. He works his fingers into him roughly and Jack squirms hard, screwing his eyes shut as he moans loudly. Alex waits for a moment, letting him get used to the feeling, and then Jack nods. He curls his fingers, stretching him and Jack shudders violently. Alex pulls them out and gets ready to line himself up when Jack stops him. “Back pocket; Condom.”

Alex yanks Jack’s jeans clean off him and digs frantically through the back pocket. He pulls out the condom Gabe had slipped into them and he grins devilishly down at Jack. “Where’d you get this?”

“Gabe,” Jack breathes out and Alex smacks him lightly in the chest.

“Got my size right, at least.” Jack huffs a laugh and Alex jerks himself for a second before rolling it on. Jack whines and snaps his hips up hard; Alex nearly falls off him. He slams him back to the floor and pushes Jack’s knees up. The younger man presses himself into the floor and Alex spits in his hand again. He lubes himself up, and then slams in without a warning. Jack screeches loudly and Alex leans down, biting his neck. He latches on, feeling Jack’s shaking hands plucking at his shirt. Alex leans up for a second and rips his shirt off. He leans back down and he feels Jack’s hand start to roam his chest. He looks down, seeing the dark hair plastering to Jack’s forehead and his eyes tightly shut. He feels him tweak one of his nipples and he shudders. He can feel himself getting close and he starts to speed up his thrusts. Jack’s back is scraping against the carpet and Alex looks down, seeing one of his hands going for his straining erection. Alex grabs his wrist, pinning it to the floor. He leans down, kissing him hard and he thrusts one final time, feeling himself release. Jack whines and Alex feels him bear down on him hard. Jack squirms and Alex grabs a hold of his dick. He tugs roughly a few times and Jack chokes on a cry, coming in rapid spurts. He scratches at Alex’s back and the singer falls limp on top of him. He presses his face into Jack’s shoulder and tries to catch his breath. He hears Jack swallow and looks up, seeing his eyes open.

“You okay?” Jack only nods and one of his hands flounders limply beside him. Alex smirks and kisses his cheek. He pulls out of him and sits up. He takes the condom off and stands, throwing it into the trash can. He tugs on his boxers and looks down at Jack, still splayed on the floor. The guitarist has his boxers about halfway up his legs and he’s still breathing heavily. Alex laughs and leans down, helping him pull his boxers up, and then he hauls Jack up. Alex cleans him up with his shirt and grabs his hand. “Bed.”

Jack only nods again and heads toward the bedroom, limping. Alex smacks his ass as he passes and Jack smirks.

Yeah.

Jack hates LA.