Status: One-Shot.
A-Team.
It's too cold outside.
White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light's gone, day's end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men.
Jack’s fingers tightened around his hair, tugging on the dark brown strands- he could barely bring himself to move, his lungs were burning from the night before… so many men, so much screams of pain coming from his throat leaving his lungs burnt and a sour taste left in his mouth… it was unbearable.
His skin was almost white, it used to be a light tan but now you could see the rings of purple that haloed under his eyes and just above his lips; all this for a couple a grams. Just a couple, it was too little for the tiny amount of grams that he got, for all the suffer he went through. The lack of everything, he was suffering and that much was obvious when you look to his frame.
The strange men were always there, hurting him and not caring about it- he did it for the money; to buy the grams. To buy the grams when the light is gone, when the day’s ending- when he’s sure it safe to buy them… not that it mattered.
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
Jack walked down the street, hands shoved into his tight skinny jeans covered in sexual stains, he didn’t have enough money for new clothes but he knew the clothes weren’t the attraction, it was sex- cheap sex and that was it. A chance to slam yourself into a stranger, no strings attached.
His hair was hanging into his dark eyes as he went to his usual corner of the road; he always stood there to get people, to get money. That was where he got the grams, he’s been like this since eighteen- parent’s dead, and he had no other choice but to do that, sell himself to strangers for the grams.
He ran a hand over his face, feeling where his cheek bones were prominent to the rest of his face, his skin was stretching over them making his face look like it would waste away any moment- in his opinion he looked like a walking skeleton, with benefits.
“Look- there’s that skinny guy there… Lex, go over,” a voice speaks, causing Jack’s head to turn slightly, fingers tapping his thigh as he looked down again preferring the comfort of his hair covering his face. He couldn’t help but feel self conscious with people looking at him constantly.
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight
Jack rubbed a hand over his neck, feeling the soreness coming back from earlier on- but he was used to it. As his father had always said ‘Worst things in life, my son, come free to us; always remember that.’ And he had. God, he was reminded everyday from the suffering just to get a couple of grams, heck he was mad for the stuff, made for the feeling even going through the suffer to receive them.
He regrets coming out tonight, the two boys hadn’t left yet- kept staring at him, his skinny legs and figure trying to figure out why someone their age would be standing there with messed up jeans and a tired looking face, that had clearly received too much abuse for someone their age.
“I’m Alex,” a boy finally speaks to Jack, who glanced up, eyes jittering over the friendly expression- he didn’t look like the others, didn’t look like the type that would do that.
“J-Jack…” he stuttered, holding out a thin hand and shaking the warm hand briefly, before pulling his hand to his chest and looking up through his fanned bangs; a frown still gradual on his face. Why was someone talking to him?
“Are you okay?” the shorter man asks, hands folding across the sweatshirt covered chest, eyes scrutinizing the skinny man who was wearing a thin shirt and jeans whilst it was snowing. He noticed the white lips, the pale bruised face.
Jack nods so many lies, so many lies to strangers.
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to die
Jack saw Alex a lot when he went to his corner, the pipe had to be hidden with the grams into his pocket- he could tell the brunette suspected something, but he never mentioned anything about it when they talked to each other in the cold outside.
Though seeing Alex a lot, he still sold his love to other men; sold it like it was something to be sold just like an old game- something to be played with, it was to him. The grams were worth it; so worth it.
Alex was like his friend now, he didn’t know about the grams though. The little amount of grams that he tried to get his hands on; he couldn’t bring himself to tell his only friend about that nor about the prostitution though that much was obvious with the messed jeans and constant bruising under his eyes.
Jack had heard Alex say so many things to him, they would go back to Alex’s garden and sit on the grass and talk away about everything that was happening and Alex couldn’t help but like Jack more and more, he hated how thin he was; hated how many bruises he had; how he couldn’t look after himself; how he sold himself to strange men… he hated it.
He could see Jack was dying, slowly; painfully.
Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone
Jack looked down to his numb fingers, he was standing in the rain at his corner again; cheap raincoat doing nothing but add to his weight as he stood there. He couldn’t do this anymore, he couldn’t swim and he knew he would drown- no long able to stay afloat. Not after this long.
He remembered what it was like when he had his parent, had the warm and dry house now all he had was wet clothes; grams.
His hand filed through his pocket, he looked down to it seeing a couple of one dollar bills and some loose change that probably couldn’t get him anything more than a Freddo, but that was no important. He was saving for the grams.
He remembered last night, after the client he had gone to Alex’s and simply cried his eyes out until they were red and he was a shivering wreck cuddled into the older man’s side. He remembered feeling loved for the first time, remembered how Alex had told him he was perfect and pressed soft kisses to his bruises pressed them to his lips.
He remembered loving the feeling of Alex whispering that it would be okay, that he was always going to be there for him- they had shared so many kisses that night. But he was still weary, eyes always weary.
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
Jack remembers when he told the older man about the grams, about the prostitution; how the man had just pulled him to his chest whispering about how it was okay, how he would make everything better- how he was going to try to help, that he loved the lanky boy.
He was breaking down though, God, he was crumbling so fucking fast and Alex was so slow to notice that the tall boy was dying; dying so quickly, with no fight whatsoever.
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
But she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we'll fade out tonight
Straight down the line
The grams were sitting in his pocket before his hand dropped them to Alex, fingers dropping loose and falling into his lap as he looked to Alex who nodded at him and put it on his bed side desk.
“I always hoped for a better life… it’s just so cold outside…” Jack whispered, eyes glancing down whilst his fingers knotted together- a nervous habit.
“Too cold outside… angles will die,” Alex mumbled so quietly Jack wasn’t sure he even heard the golden haired man say it; but he knew he did because he leaned in and pressed their lips together sweetly.
And in the second, he was closing an eye on reality, he was so aware that Jack was about the fade out and go straight down the line to death and he couldn’t do anything to stop it, he just had to let it happen; no matter how much he wanted to stop it.
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
They scream
The worst things in life come free to us
And we're all under the upperhand
Go mad for a couple of grams
And we don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland
Or sell love to another man
Last client, he thought softly after getting money from a cheap man who looked pretty drunk. He ran his hands through his hair and looked down, seeing the bones protruding through his skin, he mentally shuddered at the sight of what he looked like; he was ugly.
Jack’s fingers dug into his pockets as he made his way to Alex’s house, it was so perfect; it was white with blue shutters, a little fence around it. But Jack knew the truth, Alex was neglected by his parents, though he was so full of love that it got through way more than the neglect.
It's too cold
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
To fly, fly
Angels to fly, to fly, to fly
Angels to die
His last words that fell from his lips before he died were:
“I love you, Alex, I’m so sorry.”
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light's gone, day's end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men.
Jack’s fingers tightened around his hair, tugging on the dark brown strands- he could barely bring himself to move, his lungs were burning from the night before… so many men, so much screams of pain coming from his throat leaving his lungs burnt and a sour taste left in his mouth… it was unbearable.
His skin was almost white, it used to be a light tan but now you could see the rings of purple that haloed under his eyes and just above his lips; all this for a couple a grams. Just a couple, it was too little for the tiny amount of grams that he got, for all the suffer he went through. The lack of everything, he was suffering and that much was obvious when you look to his frame.
The strange men were always there, hurting him and not caring about it- he did it for the money; to buy the grams. To buy the grams when the light is gone, when the day’s ending- when he’s sure it safe to buy them… not that it mattered.
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
Jack walked down the street, hands shoved into his tight skinny jeans covered in sexual stains, he didn’t have enough money for new clothes but he knew the clothes weren’t the attraction, it was sex- cheap sex and that was it. A chance to slam yourself into a stranger, no strings attached.
His hair was hanging into his dark eyes as he went to his usual corner of the road; he always stood there to get people, to get money. That was where he got the grams, he’s been like this since eighteen- parent’s dead, and he had no other choice but to do that, sell himself to strangers for the grams.
He ran a hand over his face, feeling where his cheek bones were prominent to the rest of his face, his skin was stretching over them making his face look like it would waste away any moment- in his opinion he looked like a walking skeleton, with benefits.
“Look- there’s that skinny guy there… Lex, go over,” a voice speaks, causing Jack’s head to turn slightly, fingers tapping his thigh as he looked down again preferring the comfort of his hair covering his face. He couldn’t help but feel self conscious with people looking at him constantly.
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight
Jack rubbed a hand over his neck, feeling the soreness coming back from earlier on- but he was used to it. As his father had always said ‘Worst things in life, my son, come free to us; always remember that.’ And he had. God, he was reminded everyday from the suffering just to get a couple of grams, heck he was mad for the stuff, made for the feeling even going through the suffer to receive them.
He regrets coming out tonight, the two boys hadn’t left yet- kept staring at him, his skinny legs and figure trying to figure out why someone their age would be standing there with messed up jeans and a tired looking face, that had clearly received too much abuse for someone their age.
“I’m Alex,” a boy finally speaks to Jack, who glanced up, eyes jittering over the friendly expression- he didn’t look like the others, didn’t look like the type that would do that.
“J-Jack…” he stuttered, holding out a thin hand and shaking the warm hand briefly, before pulling his hand to his chest and looking up through his fanned bangs; a frown still gradual on his face. Why was someone talking to him?
“Are you okay?” the shorter man asks, hands folding across the sweatshirt covered chest, eyes scrutinizing the skinny man who was wearing a thin shirt and jeans whilst it was snowing. He noticed the white lips, the pale bruised face.
Jack nods so many lies, so many lies to strangers.
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to die
Jack saw Alex a lot when he went to his corner, the pipe had to be hidden with the grams into his pocket- he could tell the brunette suspected something, but he never mentioned anything about it when they talked to each other in the cold outside.
Though seeing Alex a lot, he still sold his love to other men; sold it like it was something to be sold just like an old game- something to be played with, it was to him. The grams were worth it; so worth it.
Alex was like his friend now, he didn’t know about the grams though. The little amount of grams that he tried to get his hands on; he couldn’t bring himself to tell his only friend about that nor about the prostitution though that much was obvious with the messed jeans and constant bruising under his eyes.
Jack had heard Alex say so many things to him, they would go back to Alex’s garden and sit on the grass and talk away about everything that was happening and Alex couldn’t help but like Jack more and more, he hated how thin he was; hated how many bruises he had; how he couldn’t look after himself; how he sold himself to strange men… he hated it.
He could see Jack was dying, slowly; painfully.
Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone
Jack looked down to his numb fingers, he was standing in the rain at his corner again; cheap raincoat doing nothing but add to his weight as he stood there. He couldn’t do this anymore, he couldn’t swim and he knew he would drown- no long able to stay afloat. Not after this long.
He remembered what it was like when he had his parent, had the warm and dry house now all he had was wet clothes; grams.
His hand filed through his pocket, he looked down to it seeing a couple of one dollar bills and some loose change that probably couldn’t get him anything more than a Freddo, but that was no important. He was saving for the grams.
He remembered last night, after the client he had gone to Alex’s and simply cried his eyes out until they were red and he was a shivering wreck cuddled into the older man’s side. He remembered feeling loved for the first time, remembered how Alex had told him he was perfect and pressed soft kisses to his bruises pressed them to his lips.
He remembered loving the feeling of Alex whispering that it would be okay, that he was always going to be there for him- they had shared so many kisses that night. But he was still weary, eyes always weary.
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
Jack remembers when he told the older man about the grams, about the prostitution; how the man had just pulled him to his chest whispering about how it was okay, how he would make everything better- how he was going to try to help, that he loved the lanky boy.
He was breaking down though, God, he was crumbling so fucking fast and Alex was so slow to notice that the tall boy was dying; dying so quickly, with no fight whatsoever.
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
But she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we'll fade out tonight
Straight down the line
The grams were sitting in his pocket before his hand dropped them to Alex, fingers dropping loose and falling into his lap as he looked to Alex who nodded at him and put it on his bed side desk.
“I always hoped for a better life… it’s just so cold outside…” Jack whispered, eyes glancing down whilst his fingers knotted together- a nervous habit.
“Too cold outside… angles will die,” Alex mumbled so quietly Jack wasn’t sure he even heard the golden haired man say it; but he knew he did because he leaned in and pressed their lips together sweetly.
And in the second, he was closing an eye on reality, he was so aware that Jack was about the fade out and go straight down the line to death and he couldn’t do anything to stop it, he just had to let it happen; no matter how much he wanted to stop it.
And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
They scream
The worst things in life come free to us
And we're all under the upperhand
Go mad for a couple of grams
And we don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland
Or sell love to another man
Last client, he thought softly after getting money from a cheap man who looked pretty drunk. He ran his hands through his hair and looked down, seeing the bones protruding through his skin, he mentally shuddered at the sight of what he looked like; he was ugly.
Jack’s fingers dug into his pockets as he made his way to Alex’s house, it was so perfect; it was white with blue shutters, a little fence around it. But Jack knew the truth, Alex was neglected by his parents, though he was so full of love that it got through way more than the neglect.
It's too cold
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
To fly, fly
Angels to fly, to fly, to fly
Angels to die
His last words that fell from his lips before he died were:
“I love you, Alex, I’m so sorry.”
♠ ♠ ♠
This is obviously based on Ed Sheeran's song A-Team: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAWcs5H-qgQOh and to people who already know who this ginger is, he went to my school and tutored my sisters boyfriend. Yup, yup, yup.
:D you jelly?
So what do you think of this story?
I think it's okay, I liked the song so I thought why not?
I DO NOT OWN THE SONG
OR JACK
OR ALEX.
thankyou(: