Faded Moon
Title: Faded Moon
Author: Amanda, who goes by the aliasapodiopsys
Pairing: Jalex (Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth)
Rating: R
Summary: “I want to be whole for you.”
Disclaimer: do not own do not steal etc. title and cut belong to Fall Out Boy.
A/N: this idea came to me about four hours ago while i was watching a movie called The Skulls. it changed a little from my initial idea, but i do actually like it. I haven't written Jalex in a while, but they seemed to be the pairing that fit. Dedications to Megan, she's my favorite ever.
It’s raining outside when Alex meets Jack, raindrops chasing each other down the windows of cafés and stores and cars, pouring down in buckets from the clouds.
He’s broken; a waiter at a local, out of the way coffeeshop. Jack is reading a book called Merdé, he has glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and he ordered a latte. There’s a jolt that goes down to his core when their fingers brush as Alex passes him the the drink, and Jack’s eyes are on him, deep brown and staring into his soul.
“Oh,” he says, and then smiles at him, teeth white and straight, bright and shiny and Alex can tell just by looking at him that he’s whole.
Alex flees.
&
He’s been hiding out in his apartment - his shitty, shitty excuse for an apartment - for three days when Jack knocks on his door. Alex doesn’t look through the peephole, just opens the door and then promptly tries closing it.
Jack wedges his foot between the door and the frame. “I know you felt it so stop running away.”
His voice is really nice, Alex wants to drown in it, except, no, he didn’t just meet his other half. “I didn’t feel anything,” he says, pushing his weight against the door.
It’s not much, he’s practically all skin and bones. Jack pushes the door and steps inside. He looks almost unsure, but then he grabs Alex wrist and there’s another jolt, a shot of electricity that settles in his center and spreads out through his body, a gentle thrumming in his blood that’s comfortable.
He says, “I’m Jack. I’m 23, I work at a record label and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
He’s still holding his hand, finger and thumb circled around his wrist. Alex can’t talk, he staring at Jack like he isn’t real.
Alex is definitely hallucinating. “Get back in my head,” he says, and then pulls his wrist out of the hallucination’s grip, spinning on his heel and heading for the tiny hallway closet of a bathroom. There’s a bottle of little white pills in the cabinet behind the mirror, he knows there is, he just needs to take a few and sleep for a couple of hours and when he wakes up again his hallucination will be gone.
He doesn’t deserve another half.
Jack follows him, stands in the doorway and watches Alex tap four tiny white pills into the palm of his hands. “I’m real,” he says, and Alex shakes his head.
“You’re not,” he disagrees politely, popping the pills into his mouth two at a time and swallowing them dry. He edges his way around the tall man (he smells really good for a hallucination, Alex thinks, like some sort of expensive aftershave and citrus, maybe, lemons or something.)
His bed is a pullout sofa. There are pretty much two rooms in his apartment, a living room-bedroom-kitchen-dining room, and a bathroom. Alex sits down on the sofa, palms pressed to his knees. Jack is staring at him with a concerned expression. His vision is a little fuzzy at the edges, it’s all in soft focus like a vintage picture.
Alex lies down, the sheets on the sofa an off-white color. “You’re not real,” he says again. Jack blinks at him, sits down on the coffee table, opens his mouth to disagree and then seems to think better of it. Jack doesn’t disappear while he’s still conscious.
&
It’s really dark out when he wakes up again. The overhead lamp is on, and Alex’s first thought is, shit, did I leave that on while I was out? My electricity bill is going to go through the roof.
“Your coffee kind of sucks,” a voice says, and Alex rubs his eyes, blinks at a figure sitting on his kitchen counter.
“Why are you still here?”
Jack gives him this patient look, takes his glasses off of his face and wipes the lenses with the hem of his t-shirt. “Because I’m not a hallucination.” He puts his glasses back on, slides off the counter and then walks the three steps from the kitchen area to the couch. He cups Alex’s jaw with his hands (they’re really nice, really, really nice hands) and then kisses him.
His lips are dry and warm, pressing insistent against Alex’s chapped lips. Alex freezes up, but Jack doesn’t stop, puts pressure on the base of his skull with his fingertips and tips his head back, just a little, just enough to get a response out of him.
“Oh.” Alex pushes Jack away from him, pulling his hoodie sleeves over his hands. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt, Jack tastes like coffee and vanilla and citrus, there’s an underlying smokey taste like he’s been smoking a cigarette. “Don’t,” he starts, breath catching. “Don’t do that again.”
He looks down at his hands, bites his lip, and he can’t look at Jack, this beautiful perfect man who’s the better part of him and who he definitely doesn’t deserve.
“Go,” Alex whispers, and then lifts his head, his expression so pleading that Jack feels his heart breaking. He already loves the man in front of him, the broken mess that’s telling him to leave.
He does.
&
Jack envies Zack and Rian with every single fiber in his being. They’ve known each other since they were twelve, they’ve known that they were all they would ever need since before puberty even started.
There’s an invisible rope tied tight between them, and no matter where they go they always go back to each other.
“He’ll come around,” Rian says soothingly, fingers rubbing at Zack’s scalp. Zack makes a sound like a cat, opens his eyes and agrees.
“He’s probably just freaked out,” “Doesn’t know what to do,” “He might have a boyfriend already,”
Rian shoots Zack a look like he’s a dumbass. “Why would you date someone when you know that you’re not meant to be?”
“Maybe he’s one of those people who rebels against the whole thing, think’s it’s bullshit and doesn’t want his whole future shaped by something that’s meant to happen,” Zack suggests, and Jack makes this miserable noise, slides further down the couch and continues shovelling store-brand cookie dough ice cream into his mouth.
“You could woo him,” Rian suggests, and this time it’s Zack who looks at him like he’s a dumbass.
“There are people who try wooing their other half?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Zachary, there are people who need to woo because sometimes it takes more then being punched to realize that you’re meant to be and all that jazz.”
Zack snickers, leans over and kisses Rian’s cheek. “I love you,” he says, and Rian laughs, smiling bright. He whispers, I love you too, kisses him once, and then twice.
Jack throws a remote at them.
&
Jack brings a bouquet of daisies to Alex the first time. He shuts the door in his face.
The second time he brings a box of chocolates, and Alex looks at the box, says, “I’m allergic to nuts,” and then closes the door in his face.
He’s not going to give up.
“What do you get someone who doesn’t want to be wooed?” Jack asks desperately at the counter of his favorite music store, and he looks so unhappy that Matt makes a tutting noise and then says, “A mix tape.”
Jack lifts his head, raising his eyebrows at the store manager. “Seriously, a mix tape. Make it personal,” he says, and Jack’s barely said thank you and paid for his The Academy Is... album before he’s out of the store and in his car.
He brings a CD case the next time, and when Alex opens the door he looks sleepy and his hair is soft and a little bit curly and all Jack wants to do is hug him. “I made you a CD,” he says, and hands over the plastic case, a paper stuck in the front that says Alex’s mix in a messy scrawl. Alex takes it, hesitates, and then opens his door a little bit wider.
“I can’t,” he says, and Jack says, “Please?”
Alex caves.
It’s messier in there then the last time Jack was actually in the apartment, and now that there’s actual light he can see the dark circles under his eyes. “Are you -?”
He’s cut off by Alex. “Don’t ask,” he says instantly, back turned to him. The CD player he’s got is ancient, the sound system he’s got it hooked up to is worse.
“I love Blink-182,” Alex says with a surprised air when he turns around, All The Small Things playing through the small apartment. Jack smiles.
“Me too.”
&
It takes three months for Alex to trust Jack enough to let him kiss him again. He has a pile of about eight different mix CDs from Jack next to his CD player.
“You’re not going to want me when you figure out how broken I am,” Alex whispers after Jack kisses him, turning his head away. Jack fits his hand gently under Alex’s chin, pulling his face back towards him.
“Let me fix you,” he pleads.
“I’m not fixable,” Alex says back, and kisses him instead, sad and sweet and slow. Jack’s heart splinters like a piece of old wood.
&
His palm his dry and cool under his, fingers laced together. “It’s cold,” Alex says, breath visible in the November air so Jack gives him his jacket. He smiles gratefully, thin frame shivering in the cold.
“You’re so skinny,” Jack frowns, and Alex’s smile drops, barely but Jack catches it.
“I forget to eat a lot,” he mumbles, ducking his head. At the end of Thames street, Jack pulls Alex right up against him, laces their fingers of both hands together and then kisses him, tells him that he’s perfect.
Alex doesn’t believe him, but snowflakes start falling, sticking to his eyelashes and Jack kisses them off, making Alex smile and laugh, cheeks flushed and pink.
&
He relapses in the beginning of December, shutting Jack out of his life for a two and a half weeks before he finally opens the door on one of Jack’s daily visits. It’s the day before Christmas and he’s skinnier than before and there are dark rings under his eyes.
His hair is purple too.
“I needed a change,” Alex says softly, and Jack nods, takes it all in stride, and blurts out, “Please let me feed you?”
Alex spends Christmas with Jack in his apartment. It’s clean and in a good part of town, nicely sized. There are more than two rooms, it’s got a kitchen that’s separate from the living and dining room, his bedroom is separate to all of it. Alex feels at home.
Jack cooks them dinner. He doesn’t let Alex do anything except change the CD from one Christmas album to the next. Alex sits on the counter next to the stove, watches Jack make them fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes and sweet ham and carrots and peas and a chocolate layer cake and Alex thinks, this, this is what love feels like.
&
Jack sleeps wrapped around Alex, ankles intertwined. He’s like a small radiator, pressed up along Alex’s back, and Alex sleeps better then he has in years.
There’s snow on the windowsill, the room is a muted white color, too bright on his eyes when he opens them for the first time. Jack is awake already, watching him sleep, and it’s not as creepy as it has the potential to be, he’s smiling softly and nuzzling his neck and Alex tugs him up to his lips by his hair, kissing him soft and sweet, morning breath and all.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers in between kisses, arching up to meet him when Jack pulls back.
“I want to give you the moon,” Jack whispers back, sleepy eyed with bed hair, sticking up on all ends.
“I’m not a whole person,” Alex says, voice raising at the end as Jack kisses his neck, nipping at the columns.
“Let me fix you,” Jack pleads against his skin.
&
Alex spends New Years at Jack’s apartment again, and Rian and Zack come over to celebrate. They bring an original Rolling Stones vinyl record for Jack and a Blink-182 CD for Alex, even though they’ve never met before, as Christmas presents. The way they’re so open almost scares him, he stands behind Jack, eyes wide and lips sealed.
They’re always touching, small brushes of hands or pressed thigh to thigh on the couch. Alex watches them carefully, laughing together as Rian ruffles Zack’s hair and he shifts over, curling underneath Jack’s arm, head tucked to his shoulder.
Jack freezes for a second, looks down at Alex and then drapes his arm around him, smiling gently while Zack keeps telling the about how his mom walked in on them having sex when they stayed at the Merrick’s for Christmas. He talks with his hands, Alex notes, they’re animated and flurrying, adding emphasis to his words when he says, “And she didn’t even bat an eye, just said, ‘Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes,’ and ‘I hope you boys are being safe,’”
Alex bursts out laughing and Zack and Rian stare at him because up until then he’s been really fucking quiet. They start laughing too, and Alex realizes that he feels safe with these people.
&
They stand outside on Jack’s balcony to watch the fireworks. Rian and Zack stay inside on the sofa, counting down and watching the ball drop in New York on the television. Alex is wrapped in the duvet from Jack’s bed; they don’t have fireworks to shoot off but they make their own, lights shooting behind Alex’s closed eyelids when Jack kisses him at the strike of midnight, hot and languid.
&
Alex breaks in March. “Be mine,” Jack asks, cupping his face in his hands. They’re official, they’re a thing with official boyfriend titles and boyfriend rights and everything. “Marry me.”
He freezes, staring at Jack like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. And then he shatters. “You don’t want me, I’m broken, used and snapped. I’m not good enough for you, I’m not worth your time,” he sobs, clinging to Jack like he’s the only lifeline left.
He shakes apart at the seams, eyes rimmed in red. When he has no more tears, he lifts his head. “Fix me,” he whispers, desperate. “Put me back together.”
&
They haven’t slept together yet. Jack leads him to his bedroom, kissing him soft and slow, keeps asking him if this is alright, if this is okay.
“Please,” Alex says, eyes closed and lips parted. “Please.”
Jack edges his shirt up, presses kisses to his ribs. Alex reaches over to turn the lamp off; Jack leans up, catching his wrist. “Don’t. I want to see you,” he says softly, and Alex looks torn. “Let me love you.”
He pulls Alex’s shirt over his head, presses open mouthed kisses to the skin on his chest that leave him shaking and gasping. In the dim light Jack can see thin scars lining his hips. “Oh, Alex,” he says, and then shifts down, pressing a kiss to each individual scar.
There are more scars on the insides of Alex thighs. Jack wants nothing more then to take them away, he loves this man, this broken, beautiful man. He kisses them all, each and everyone one of them, and Alex is trembling by the time he’s done, whispering Jack,whispering please, whispering fix me.
&
Alex’s ankles scrape the back of Jack’s knees, hands gripping his shoulders or biceps. He’s gasping, eyes closed as Jack does his best to fix him, connects with him in the most intimate way possible and makes them two parts of a whole.
His body rolls like a wave; he kisses Alex and it’s like a sunrise or a sunset, bursts of color, sharp and sweet. He’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he’s lines and edges and planes and razor sharp hips.
“I need you to love me,” Alex gasps, short, bitten to the quick nails digging into his arms.
“I do,” Jack says back, kissing him deep. Their hands tangle together, and Jack presses his wrist to the bed, palm pressed to palm like a holy kiss.
&
“I want to be whole for you,” Alex whispers after, tracing aimless shapes across Jack’s chest. He draws a heart with his finger around a lovebite on his collarbone, pressing onto it and it throbs, a perfect reminder.
“You’re perfect the way you are,” Jack says, eyes closed, rubbing Alex’s arm.
He shakes his head. “I want to be good,” a prayer, a promise, a vow. “I want to deserve you.”
Jack opens his eyes, looks at Alex and tries to see him the way he does. He can’t. “Marry me,” he whispers again, looking Alex dead in the eye.
Alex ducks his head, presses his lips to the center of his chest. It’s silent for a few moments, so Jack says again, “Marry me.”
The invisible rope between them is pull taught, they’re pressed chest to chest and Alex can feel it, thrumming in veins, a silent hum of electricity. Jack is his other (better) half. He doesn’t deserve him, but he needs him, needs him like the air he breathes and the food he eats.
“Okay.”
FIN
Author: Amanda, who goes by the aliasapodiopsys
Pairing: Jalex (Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth)
Rating: R
Summary: “I want to be whole for you.”
Disclaimer: do not own do not steal etc. title and cut belong to Fall Out Boy.
A/N: this idea came to me about four hours ago while i was watching a movie called The Skulls. it changed a little from my initial idea, but i do actually like it. I haven't written Jalex in a while, but they seemed to be the pairing that fit. Dedications to Megan, she's my favorite ever.
It’s raining outside when Alex meets Jack, raindrops chasing each other down the windows of cafés and stores and cars, pouring down in buckets from the clouds.
He’s broken; a waiter at a local, out of the way coffeeshop. Jack is reading a book called Merdé, he has glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and he ordered a latte. There’s a jolt that goes down to his core when their fingers brush as Alex passes him the the drink, and Jack’s eyes are on him, deep brown and staring into his soul.
“Oh,” he says, and then smiles at him, teeth white and straight, bright and shiny and Alex can tell just by looking at him that he’s whole.
Alex flees.
&
He’s been hiding out in his apartment - his shitty, shitty excuse for an apartment - for three days when Jack knocks on his door. Alex doesn’t look through the peephole, just opens the door and then promptly tries closing it.
Jack wedges his foot between the door and the frame. “I know you felt it so stop running away.”
His voice is really nice, Alex wants to drown in it, except, no, he didn’t just meet his other half. “I didn’t feel anything,” he says, pushing his weight against the door.
It’s not much, he’s practically all skin and bones. Jack pushes the door and steps inside. He looks almost unsure, but then he grabs Alex wrist and there’s another jolt, a shot of electricity that settles in his center and spreads out through his body, a gentle thrumming in his blood that’s comfortable.
He says, “I’m Jack. I’m 23, I work at a record label and you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
He’s still holding his hand, finger and thumb circled around his wrist. Alex can’t talk, he staring at Jack like he isn’t real.
Alex is definitely hallucinating. “Get back in my head,” he says, and then pulls his wrist out of the hallucination’s grip, spinning on his heel and heading for the tiny hallway closet of a bathroom. There’s a bottle of little white pills in the cabinet behind the mirror, he knows there is, he just needs to take a few and sleep for a couple of hours and when he wakes up again his hallucination will be gone.
He doesn’t deserve another half.
Jack follows him, stands in the doorway and watches Alex tap four tiny white pills into the palm of his hands. “I’m real,” he says, and Alex shakes his head.
“You’re not,” he disagrees politely, popping the pills into his mouth two at a time and swallowing them dry. He edges his way around the tall man (he smells really good for a hallucination, Alex thinks, like some sort of expensive aftershave and citrus, maybe, lemons or something.)
His bed is a pullout sofa. There are pretty much two rooms in his apartment, a living room-bedroom-kitchen-dining room, and a bathroom. Alex sits down on the sofa, palms pressed to his knees. Jack is staring at him with a concerned expression. His vision is a little fuzzy at the edges, it’s all in soft focus like a vintage picture.
Alex lies down, the sheets on the sofa an off-white color. “You’re not real,” he says again. Jack blinks at him, sits down on the coffee table, opens his mouth to disagree and then seems to think better of it. Jack doesn’t disappear while he’s still conscious.
&
It’s really dark out when he wakes up again. The overhead lamp is on, and Alex’s first thought is, shit, did I leave that on while I was out? My electricity bill is going to go through the roof.
“Your coffee kind of sucks,” a voice says, and Alex rubs his eyes, blinks at a figure sitting on his kitchen counter.
“Why are you still here?”
Jack gives him this patient look, takes his glasses off of his face and wipes the lenses with the hem of his t-shirt. “Because I’m not a hallucination.” He puts his glasses back on, slides off the counter and then walks the three steps from the kitchen area to the couch. He cups Alex’s jaw with his hands (they’re really nice, really, really nice hands) and then kisses him.
His lips are dry and warm, pressing insistent against Alex’s chapped lips. Alex freezes up, but Jack doesn’t stop, puts pressure on the base of his skull with his fingertips and tips his head back, just a little, just enough to get a response out of him.
“Oh.” Alex pushes Jack away from him, pulling his hoodie sleeves over his hands. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt, Jack tastes like coffee and vanilla and citrus, there’s an underlying smokey taste like he’s been smoking a cigarette. “Don’t,” he starts, breath catching. “Don’t do that again.”
He looks down at his hands, bites his lip, and he can’t look at Jack, this beautiful perfect man who’s the better part of him and who he definitely doesn’t deserve.
“Go,” Alex whispers, and then lifts his head, his expression so pleading that Jack feels his heart breaking. He already loves the man in front of him, the broken mess that’s telling him to leave.
He does.
&
Jack envies Zack and Rian with every single fiber in his being. They’ve known each other since they were twelve, they’ve known that they were all they would ever need since before puberty even started.
There’s an invisible rope tied tight between them, and no matter where they go they always go back to each other.
“He’ll come around,” Rian says soothingly, fingers rubbing at Zack’s scalp. Zack makes a sound like a cat, opens his eyes and agrees.
“He’s probably just freaked out,” “Doesn’t know what to do,” “He might have a boyfriend already,”
Rian shoots Zack a look like he’s a dumbass. “Why would you date someone when you know that you’re not meant to be?”
“Maybe he’s one of those people who rebels against the whole thing, think’s it’s bullshit and doesn’t want his whole future shaped by something that’s meant to happen,” Zack suggests, and Jack makes this miserable noise, slides further down the couch and continues shovelling store-brand cookie dough ice cream into his mouth.
“You could woo him,” Rian suggests, and this time it’s Zack who looks at him like he’s a dumbass.
“There are people who try wooing their other half?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, Zachary, there are people who need to woo because sometimes it takes more then being punched to realize that you’re meant to be and all that jazz.”
Zack snickers, leans over and kisses Rian’s cheek. “I love you,” he says, and Rian laughs, smiling bright. He whispers, I love you too, kisses him once, and then twice.
Jack throws a remote at them.
&
Jack brings a bouquet of daisies to Alex the first time. He shuts the door in his face.
The second time he brings a box of chocolates, and Alex looks at the box, says, “I’m allergic to nuts,” and then closes the door in his face.
He’s not going to give up.
“What do you get someone who doesn’t want to be wooed?” Jack asks desperately at the counter of his favorite music store, and he looks so unhappy that Matt makes a tutting noise and then says, “A mix tape.”
Jack lifts his head, raising his eyebrows at the store manager. “Seriously, a mix tape. Make it personal,” he says, and Jack’s barely said thank you and paid for his The Academy Is... album before he’s out of the store and in his car.
He brings a CD case the next time, and when Alex opens the door he looks sleepy and his hair is soft and a little bit curly and all Jack wants to do is hug him. “I made you a CD,” he says, and hands over the plastic case, a paper stuck in the front that says Alex’s mix in a messy scrawl. Alex takes it, hesitates, and then opens his door a little bit wider.
“I can’t,” he says, and Jack says, “Please?”
Alex caves.
It’s messier in there then the last time Jack was actually in the apartment, and now that there’s actual light he can see the dark circles under his eyes. “Are you -?”
He’s cut off by Alex. “Don’t ask,” he says instantly, back turned to him. The CD player he’s got is ancient, the sound system he’s got it hooked up to is worse.
“I love Blink-182,” Alex says with a surprised air when he turns around, All The Small Things playing through the small apartment. Jack smiles.
“Me too.”
&
It takes three months for Alex to trust Jack enough to let him kiss him again. He has a pile of about eight different mix CDs from Jack next to his CD player.
“You’re not going to want me when you figure out how broken I am,” Alex whispers after Jack kisses him, turning his head away. Jack fits his hand gently under Alex’s chin, pulling his face back towards him.
“Let me fix you,” he pleads.
“I’m not fixable,” Alex says back, and kisses him instead, sad and sweet and slow. Jack’s heart splinters like a piece of old wood.
&
His palm his dry and cool under his, fingers laced together. “It’s cold,” Alex says, breath visible in the November air so Jack gives him his jacket. He smiles gratefully, thin frame shivering in the cold.
“You’re so skinny,” Jack frowns, and Alex’s smile drops, barely but Jack catches it.
“I forget to eat a lot,” he mumbles, ducking his head. At the end of Thames street, Jack pulls Alex right up against him, laces their fingers of both hands together and then kisses him, tells him that he’s perfect.
Alex doesn’t believe him, but snowflakes start falling, sticking to his eyelashes and Jack kisses them off, making Alex smile and laugh, cheeks flushed and pink.
&
He relapses in the beginning of December, shutting Jack out of his life for a two and a half weeks before he finally opens the door on one of Jack’s daily visits. It’s the day before Christmas and he’s skinnier than before and there are dark rings under his eyes.
His hair is purple too.
“I needed a change,” Alex says softly, and Jack nods, takes it all in stride, and blurts out, “Please let me feed you?”
Alex spends Christmas with Jack in his apartment. It’s clean and in a good part of town, nicely sized. There are more than two rooms, it’s got a kitchen that’s separate from the living and dining room, his bedroom is separate to all of it. Alex feels at home.
Jack cooks them dinner. He doesn’t let Alex do anything except change the CD from one Christmas album to the next. Alex sits on the counter next to the stove, watches Jack make them fluffy, buttery mashed potatoes and sweet ham and carrots and peas and a chocolate layer cake and Alex thinks, this, this is what love feels like.
&
Jack sleeps wrapped around Alex, ankles intertwined. He’s like a small radiator, pressed up along Alex’s back, and Alex sleeps better then he has in years.
There’s snow on the windowsill, the room is a muted white color, too bright on his eyes when he opens them for the first time. Jack is awake already, watching him sleep, and it’s not as creepy as it has the potential to be, he’s smiling softly and nuzzling his neck and Alex tugs him up to his lips by his hair, kissing him soft and sweet, morning breath and all.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers in between kisses, arching up to meet him when Jack pulls back.
“I want to give you the moon,” Jack whispers back, sleepy eyed with bed hair, sticking up on all ends.
“I’m not a whole person,” Alex says, voice raising at the end as Jack kisses his neck, nipping at the columns.
“Let me fix you,” Jack pleads against his skin.
&
Alex spends New Years at Jack’s apartment again, and Rian and Zack come over to celebrate. They bring an original Rolling Stones vinyl record for Jack and a Blink-182 CD for Alex, even though they’ve never met before, as Christmas presents. The way they’re so open almost scares him, he stands behind Jack, eyes wide and lips sealed.
They’re always touching, small brushes of hands or pressed thigh to thigh on the couch. Alex watches them carefully, laughing together as Rian ruffles Zack’s hair and he shifts over, curling underneath Jack’s arm, head tucked to his shoulder.
Jack freezes for a second, looks down at Alex and then drapes his arm around him, smiling gently while Zack keeps telling the about how his mom walked in on them having sex when they stayed at the Merrick’s for Christmas. He talks with his hands, Alex notes, they’re animated and flurrying, adding emphasis to his words when he says, “And she didn’t even bat an eye, just said, ‘Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes,’ and ‘I hope you boys are being safe,’”
Alex bursts out laughing and Zack and Rian stare at him because up until then he’s been really fucking quiet. They start laughing too, and Alex realizes that he feels safe with these people.
&
They stand outside on Jack’s balcony to watch the fireworks. Rian and Zack stay inside on the sofa, counting down and watching the ball drop in New York on the television. Alex is wrapped in the duvet from Jack’s bed; they don’t have fireworks to shoot off but they make their own, lights shooting behind Alex’s closed eyelids when Jack kisses him at the strike of midnight, hot and languid.
&
Alex breaks in March. “Be mine,” Jack asks, cupping his face in his hands. They’re official, they’re a thing with official boyfriend titles and boyfriend rights and everything. “Marry me.”
He freezes, staring at Jack like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. And then he shatters. “You don’t want me, I’m broken, used and snapped. I’m not good enough for you, I’m not worth your time,” he sobs, clinging to Jack like he’s the only lifeline left.
He shakes apart at the seams, eyes rimmed in red. When he has no more tears, he lifts his head. “Fix me,” he whispers, desperate. “Put me back together.”
&
They haven’t slept together yet. Jack leads him to his bedroom, kissing him soft and slow, keeps asking him if this is alright, if this is okay.
“Please,” Alex says, eyes closed and lips parted. “Please.”
Jack edges his shirt up, presses kisses to his ribs. Alex reaches over to turn the lamp off; Jack leans up, catching his wrist. “Don’t. I want to see you,” he says softly, and Alex looks torn. “Let me love you.”
He pulls Alex’s shirt over his head, presses open mouthed kisses to the skin on his chest that leave him shaking and gasping. In the dim light Jack can see thin scars lining his hips. “Oh, Alex,” he says, and then shifts down, pressing a kiss to each individual scar.
There are more scars on the insides of Alex thighs. Jack wants nothing more then to take them away, he loves this man, this broken, beautiful man. He kisses them all, each and everyone one of them, and Alex is trembling by the time he’s done, whispering Jack,whispering please, whispering fix me.
&
Alex’s ankles scrape the back of Jack’s knees, hands gripping his shoulders or biceps. He’s gasping, eyes closed as Jack does his best to fix him, connects with him in the most intimate way possible and makes them two parts of a whole.
His body rolls like a wave; he kisses Alex and it’s like a sunrise or a sunset, bursts of color, sharp and sweet. He’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, he’s lines and edges and planes and razor sharp hips.
“I need you to love me,” Alex gasps, short, bitten to the quick nails digging into his arms.
“I do,” Jack says back, kissing him deep. Their hands tangle together, and Jack presses his wrist to the bed, palm pressed to palm like a holy kiss.
&
“I want to be whole for you,” Alex whispers after, tracing aimless shapes across Jack’s chest. He draws a heart with his finger around a lovebite on his collarbone, pressing onto it and it throbs, a perfect reminder.
“You’re perfect the way you are,” Jack says, eyes closed, rubbing Alex’s arm.
He shakes his head. “I want to be good,” a prayer, a promise, a vow. “I want to deserve you.”
Jack opens his eyes, looks at Alex and tries to see him the way he does. He can’t. “Marry me,” he whispers again, looking Alex dead in the eye.
Alex ducks his head, presses his lips to the center of his chest. It’s silent for a few moments, so Jack says again, “Marry me.”
The invisible rope between them is pull taught, they’re pressed chest to chest and Alex can feel it, thrumming in veins, a silent hum of electricity. Jack is his other (better) half. He doesn’t deserve him, but he needs him, needs him like the air he breathes and the food he eats.
“Okay.”
FIN