Boy Like That.
one of one.
The first time Jack lays eyes on Alex, it’s on a street corner as he hails a cab. Jack is across the road, watching him intently.
Alex stands there in the freezing cold of the Baltimore night, and extends an arm into the road. Jack sees the way his plaid shirt rides up just over his hips, and his too-tight skinny jeans slide down, revealing bright blue underwear. There’s a noticeable tattoo displayed on his forearm below rolled sleeves. White headphone wires trail from his ears to his pocket, as he looks down the road for any sign of a cab. He pulls his hand down and sighs when he sees none.
He glances down the road a few moments later and sees what he’s looking for. A black car rolls up beside him - Jack’s sure that it definitely isn’t a cab - and a sly, conniving smirk graces Alex’s lips. He sticks his tongue out a little at the driver of the car when he slinks inside. Jack can’t help but wonder where the hell he’s been or where he‘s headed to.
*
The next time Jack sees Alex, it’s the weekend. His friend, Zack, has dragged him to some party downtown - that Jack genuinely doesn’t want to be at - and had to sneak them both in, since they’re only eighteen. Well, Zack is almost nineteen, but he still couldn’t get in if they pulled that.
That’s when Jack sees Alex across the room. Zack follows his gaze, weaving between grinding couples and fevered make-outs, until his eyes fall on the skinny boy on the opposite side of the room. They both watch as someone tries their hardest to chat him up - and fails miserably. Alex takes a drink from the green bottle he clutches in his left hand before laughing callously at the man before him. He shakes his head and walks away, hips swaying.
“Alex Gaskarth? Seriously?” Zack asks Jack, holding back a laugh. “You’re crushing on Alex Gaskarth?”
Jack glares at him, nodding slowly. Zack raises his hands in surrender.
“Okay, chill.” Zack sighs, looking back at Alex. “You see, he’s a whore.”
Jack looks at Alex again and sees he’s talking to someone else, a new bottle in his hand as he traces lines on their thigh.
“He’s good for a fuck, but he’s not exactly boyfriend material, Jack-o.”
“And you’d know?” Jack replies, glowering down at Zack.
“He’s a whore. He has to be a good fuck, by default,” Zack shrugs, his voice dropping to a whisper, “not saying you shouldn’t try, but it probably wouldn’t be your best decision.”
Jack resists the undying urge to slap Zack around the face and walks away from him.
“Just be careful!” Zack yells across at him. Jack just ignores him.
Jack gets himself the strongest drink he can stomach from the bar and sits down. It may look deceivingly like he’s sulking, but in actual fact, he’s looking for an opportunity to talk to Alex. He’s still working his way around the room, apparently examining all the guys in the room. Jack silently wonders to himself if Alex will notice him, and quickly distracts himself with his drink when the other boy looks over.
You see, Jack isn’t confident. In any way, shape, or form. It may look like he is, but that’s probably the drink talking. Jack swishes the liquid that remains in his glass around, and gives a small sigh when he realizes that, of course, Alex won’t notice him.
And then he looks up.
Alex is looking straight at him.
Jack shakes his head, and takes another long drink from his glass.
Jack looks up again and Alex has moved closer, and, yes, he’s looking right at Jack and, yes, he’s smirking.
Jack slams his glass down on the bar for the last time and stands. Maybe it’s the alcohol thinking, but Jack thinks he’s got a chance here.
When Jack finally crosses the dance floor to talk to Alex, the elder smirks and presses a bottle into his palm.
“I’ve been waiting.” He says with a smile. Jack blushes.
“Really?”
Alex nods, and takes a drink from the bottle in his hand.
“I’ve seen you watching me all night. You want in, don’t you?” Alex says with a smile. Jack stammers, but Alex presses a finger over the younger boy’s lips.
“It’s a yes or no question. Do you want me?” Alex asks, seductive smirk playing on his lips.
Jack blushes again and nods. There’s nothing much else he could do.
“Good.” Alex smiles, grabbing Jack by the hand and pulling him outside, away from the club. Zack watches them warily from across the room.
Alex drags Jack towards his car, and for a moment Jack seriously thinks Alex is going to drive. But that disappears when Alex opens the door and pushes him down into the passenger side seat and clambers on top of him.
“They say car sex is great.” Alex laughs, pressing a kiss to Jack’s neck. Jack makes a small noise of approval from the back of his throat, and Alex smiles against his neck.
Jack can’t really do much else, with Alex straddling him in a car seat and attacking his neck with kisses. His palms are sweating a little, and he’s almost shaking with want.
“I presume you’ll be sticking around to find out?” Alex continues, pressing a kiss to Jack’s jaw, “if car sex is as great as they say, that is.”
Jack just nods. Because really, with a boy like Alex, that’s all you need to do.
Alex stands there in the freezing cold of the Baltimore night, and extends an arm into the road. Jack sees the way his plaid shirt rides up just over his hips, and his too-tight skinny jeans slide down, revealing bright blue underwear. There’s a noticeable tattoo displayed on his forearm below rolled sleeves. White headphone wires trail from his ears to his pocket, as he looks down the road for any sign of a cab. He pulls his hand down and sighs when he sees none.
He glances down the road a few moments later and sees what he’s looking for. A black car rolls up beside him - Jack’s sure that it definitely isn’t a cab - and a sly, conniving smirk graces Alex’s lips. He sticks his tongue out a little at the driver of the car when he slinks inside. Jack can’t help but wonder where the hell he’s been or where he‘s headed to.
*
The next time Jack sees Alex, it’s the weekend. His friend, Zack, has dragged him to some party downtown - that Jack genuinely doesn’t want to be at - and had to sneak them both in, since they’re only eighteen. Well, Zack is almost nineteen, but he still couldn’t get in if they pulled that.
That’s when Jack sees Alex across the room. Zack follows his gaze, weaving between grinding couples and fevered make-outs, until his eyes fall on the skinny boy on the opposite side of the room. They both watch as someone tries their hardest to chat him up - and fails miserably. Alex takes a drink from the green bottle he clutches in his left hand before laughing callously at the man before him. He shakes his head and walks away, hips swaying.
“Alex Gaskarth? Seriously?” Zack asks Jack, holding back a laugh. “You’re crushing on Alex Gaskarth?”
Jack glares at him, nodding slowly. Zack raises his hands in surrender.
“Okay, chill.” Zack sighs, looking back at Alex. “You see, he’s a whore.”
Jack looks at Alex again and sees he’s talking to someone else, a new bottle in his hand as he traces lines on their thigh.
“He’s good for a fuck, but he’s not exactly boyfriend material, Jack-o.”
“And you’d know?” Jack replies, glowering down at Zack.
“He’s a whore. He has to be a good fuck, by default,” Zack shrugs, his voice dropping to a whisper, “not saying you shouldn’t try, but it probably wouldn’t be your best decision.”
Jack resists the undying urge to slap Zack around the face and walks away from him.
“Just be careful!” Zack yells across at him. Jack just ignores him.
Jack gets himself the strongest drink he can stomach from the bar and sits down. It may look deceivingly like he’s sulking, but in actual fact, he’s looking for an opportunity to talk to Alex. He’s still working his way around the room, apparently examining all the guys in the room. Jack silently wonders to himself if Alex will notice him, and quickly distracts himself with his drink when the other boy looks over.
You see, Jack isn’t confident. In any way, shape, or form. It may look like he is, but that’s probably the drink talking. Jack swishes the liquid that remains in his glass around, and gives a small sigh when he realizes that, of course, Alex won’t notice him.
And then he looks up.
Alex is looking straight at him.
Jack shakes his head, and takes another long drink from his glass.
Jack looks up again and Alex has moved closer, and, yes, he’s looking right at Jack and, yes, he’s smirking.
Jack slams his glass down on the bar for the last time and stands. Maybe it’s the alcohol thinking, but Jack thinks he’s got a chance here.
When Jack finally crosses the dance floor to talk to Alex, the elder smirks and presses a bottle into his palm.
“I’ve been waiting.” He says with a smile. Jack blushes.
“Really?”
Alex nods, and takes a drink from the bottle in his hand.
“I’ve seen you watching me all night. You want in, don’t you?” Alex says with a smile. Jack stammers, but Alex presses a finger over the younger boy’s lips.
“It’s a yes or no question. Do you want me?” Alex asks, seductive smirk playing on his lips.
Jack blushes again and nods. There’s nothing much else he could do.
“Good.” Alex smiles, grabbing Jack by the hand and pulling him outside, away from the club. Zack watches them warily from across the room.
Alex drags Jack towards his car, and for a moment Jack seriously thinks Alex is going to drive. But that disappears when Alex opens the door and pushes him down into the passenger side seat and clambers on top of him.
“They say car sex is great.” Alex laughs, pressing a kiss to Jack’s neck. Jack makes a small noise of approval from the back of his throat, and Alex smiles against his neck.
Jack can’t really do much else, with Alex straddling him in a car seat and attacking his neck with kisses. His palms are sweating a little, and he’s almost shaking with want.
“I presume you’ll be sticking around to find out?” Alex continues, pressing a kiss to Jack’s jaw, “if car sex is as great as they say, that is.”
Jack just nods. Because really, with a boy like Alex, that’s all you need to do.