Teach Me How to Scream
Title: Teach Me How to Scream
Author: Amanda, who goes by the alias apodiopsys
Pairing: Jalex
Rating: NC-17, this is like, porn ok.
Summary: “You can’t come until I say so,” Jack murmurs, curving his tongue around the shell of Alex’s ear. “And I won’t say so until you scream for me.”
Disclaimer: I own everything. I own the plug and I own the ring and, yeah. I own the boys too ok. I rent them out sometimes too.
Title and Cut: belong to BrokeNcyde's Teach Me How to Scream
A/N: so... yeah. um, this is kinky with a lot of kink and then sex on the side. I was ~inspired~ by the song Teach Me How to Scream while walking to school and I guess the sex gods just posessed me to write this. please don't kill me.
Jack has a weird question for Alex when he gets onto the bus.
"Have you ever thought about screaming?" Alex stares at him for a minute, silently.
"I mean, I've been listening to like, Breathe Carolina for an hour now and they're great." Jack explains, holding up his ipod.
Alex stares at his boyfriend for another minute. "Jack, we've never done screaming, ever. It's not who we are."
Jack shrugs a little, a knowing smirk on his face. "If that’s how you feel about it." he says, and then pulls Alex down ontop of him so they can makeout for a while before Matt yells at them about the 'no-sex-on-the-bus-rule.'
And Alex thinks that’s that.
-
There is twenty minutes before they need to go on stage, and Alex is so hard he can't think straight or see straight and he possibly can't remember his name. He's lying down across Jack's lap, Jack's fingers inside him and he's grinding for all he's worth against Jack's thigh.
"Fuck, Jack, Jack please. Jack, please I can't. Matt's going to kill us and - fuck." he cries out and Jack just smirks, rubbing his finger over his prostate. Alex shakes in Jack's arms, and it's too much too much and he's going to come very soon, he's so close he can fucking taste it.
And then Jack takes his fingers away. Alex whines, grinding insistently against Jack's thigh and he probably has precome all over the front of his jeans but fuck that because he is so fucking empty and he is going to kill something if he doesn't get off right fucking now.
"I'm gonna teach you how to scream, baby." Jack purrs in his ear, and Alex can't see it but Jack is slicking up a buttplug, and then pressing it against his entrance. Alex is confused for about half a second before he whimpers again, he just wants to get off, that’s all he fucking needs.
"Please Jack no, I can't, not on stage, the kids are all out there I can't, Jack please just let me come." Alex gasps, trying to grind against him. Jack presses the plug into him, twisting it a little and then smirks.
"Jack, Jack, I can't. I can't sing like this, I can't." Alex breathes, but he's gone still because even though this completely out of control and he just really wants to get off, this is by far the hottest thing they have ever done.
“Well. You have to now, because we have three minutes till we have to be on stage.” Jack smirks, and as if on cue, Matt is banging his fist against the side of the door facing the hall.
“I’m not coming in because I have a feeling I’m going to see things I don’t want to see but if you two aren’t out here in one minute I’m not letting you room together tonight.” Flyzik threatens from the hall, and Jack pushes Alex up, ignoring his whine and glancing down at the precome on his jeans.
“Clean that.” He says to Alex, looking more than a lot amused (and a lot turned on too, because, seriously.) and he can hear Matt groan, bang the door one more time with his fist and then walk away. Alex ducks his head down, making an indistinguishable noise because it shifts the plug inside him and he has to bite his lip, hard. He attaches his lips to the fabric and sucks, running his tongue over the rough denim until it’s as clean as it’s gonna get. Jack’s eyes are dark as he watches him.
He stands up and manhandles Alex until he’s standing, and he makes this noise every time, because the toy keeps shifting, and it’s not even shifting a lot, it’s just a little.
The plug isn’t even that big either; just big enough that Alex knows it’s there. He’s got his GK pants up and done when it mother fucking vibrates.
He jumps about six feet in the air, biting his lip hard, his eyes a little crazed looking.
“One minute,” Jack says cheerfully, and he holds up a little remote in his hand before fucking sauntering out the door.
Alex takes a minute to collect himself before walking (very carefully; he probably looks weird to anyone watching him) over to the side of the stage and taking his guitar from Danny.
He doesn’t see Jack pressing something into Matt’s hands with a piece of paper and a grin, just telling him to do what’s on the paper.
-
The first three songs are played fucking perfectly. No one misses a note, Alex can tell that the toy is there but he’s fucking ignoring it like a Boss.
They’ve just gotten into the chorus of Damned If I Do Ya when the plug fucking vibrates. All of a sudden, the oh-oh-oh’s stop sound like oh’s and more like, oh-oh-oh’s.
Alex practically sprains his neck twisting his head around to look at Jack. Jack clearly doesn’t have the remote though; his hands are flying across the guitar, flipping his hair and grinning at a girl in the audience.
What?
He can hear that Rian and Zack don’t have it either, he can hear the bassline and drums. He’s still singing, and it’s still buzzing, making him grind a little against his guitar, still as hard as he was before they went on stage.
The vibrating stops and Alex is able to continue on with the song, clutching possibly a little too tightly to his guitar. He can’t even imagine what he looks like, and all those girls with the All Time Low, Get Low bracelets on their wrists who are standing pressed up against the barrier are filming him while he’s got a fucking vibrating toy shoved up his ass and this is like a very subtle, very discreet sextape.
Alex has to admit, that’s very sneaky of Jack.
The chorus comes around again, and Alex is half expecting it, so his reaction isn’t quite as violent as the first time, but his voice cracks half way through and he needs to take a step back from the microphone, so fucking grateful that the guitar is covering his crotch because he has a fucking raging hard on right now that would probably stab everyone in the first row.
Maybe.
Alex takes in a shuddering breath, seeing Jack smirking as he plays his guitar. He doesn’t know how he’s doing it, but the vibrating has stopped and Alex can sing, although his voice sounds so fucking raw and wrecked it’s like Jack fucked his throat.
When Damned If I Do Ya is finally over, Jack smirks over in Alex’s direction and grabs his microphone. “Sorry about Alex’s voice, I think it’s my fault he sounds shittier than usual.” He says, raising his eyebrows and laughing as the crowd of girls screams, loud.
Someone flings a bra at Jack, and it gets hooked to his guitar. Jack holds it up and looks in Alex’s direction. “You can wear it for me later, baby.” He laughed, tossing it at Alex.
Crossdressing really isn’t their thing, but Alex is so turned on right now that anything sex-related sounds like a fucking party and his dick twitches a little. Alex catches it with one hand and throws it at Zack, who throws it at Rian, who throws it at Matt. It’s like Pass the Bra.
Two more songs in and they’re at Stella. If anyone was paying hard enough attention, they’d see that Alex is practically shaking, and he’s missing about a quarter of the notes he’s supposed to be playing on his guitar.
And the vibrating is becoming more insistant, not just on the pauses and choruses, but at five second intervals.
They’ve got one encore left, and that’s it. That’s fucking it and Alex can get off fuck.
While they’re standing backstage, listening to the crowding chanting All Time Low, All Time Low, All Time Low like their future happiness depends on it, Jack slides his arm around Alex’s waist and cups Alex through his jeans.
“Fuck.” Jack smirks, squeezing lightly. Alex just whines, presses his hips into Jack’s touch and hides his face in his neck. He needs to come; he is going to cry if Jack doesn’t let him come as soon as they get off the stage.
“Please Jack, I can’t, I can’t. I’m so -“Alex whimpers, bites his lip hard. They don’t have time, they have to be back out on the stage in like twenty seconds but he is about to explode holy shit.
By the end of Too Much, Alex is actually shaking. He barely gets out the “Thank you! You guys are fucking beautiful!” before he’s throwing his guitar at Danny and dragging Jack to the first room he can find that has a door.
“I’m not getting you off till we get to the hotel.” Jack smirks, and Alex almost does scream out of sexual frustration.
He does hit Jack though, hard. He would punch him in the dick except he knows that it hurts and he kind of wants his dick later, so.
Jack disappears for a minute, and it’s an unspoken rule, but Alex isn’t allowed to touch himself, so he keeps his hands busy, rolling up chords and things.
When Jack comes back, Alex is about to kill someone (and it’d probably be Danny because he’s closest and that’d be bad because All Time Low kind of needs their guitar tech).
He grabs Alex’s wrist, pulls him away from people and out back, back to the loading area where the fans can’t get to. They haven’t even showered yet, and they’re both really, really sweaty but Alex doesn’t even care, he’s been hard for hours now, and it isn’t even funny anymore.
It wasn’t funny to begin with.
“Matt told me to take you to the hotel. He said that you looked like shit and sang even worse and that you need sleep so that you don’t get sick.” Jack smirked, leaning in close to Alex’s ear. “But we both know you aren’t sick, are you?”
Alex whimpers, dropping his head onto Jack’s shoulder. “Please Jack, can we just. I need. I can’t.” His expression is torn, he’s so fucking hard and they still need to get to the hotel and fuck. He can’t even form proper sentences anymore.
He barely remembers how they get there; pretty much everything is in a haze now. Jack passes the money to the cabdriver and pulls Alex out, manhandling Alex into the hotel and elevator. It’s a good thing that they checked in before they went to the venue.
Alex likes the touching, likes it because everything feels good right now, every single touch goes straight to his dick.
The next thing Alex knows, he’s pressed up against the door and Jack is trying to get the key card to go through. The door swings open and Alex stumbles into the room, pulling Jack with him onto the bed.
“If you don’t get me off right fucking now I swear to god I will chop your dick off and wear it as a necklace.” Alex threatens, pulling at Jack’s shirt, trying to get them both naked as fast as possible.
Alex gets naked faster than Jack does, and by the time Jack is down to his boxers Alex is grinding up against him, hard against his stomach and curving slightly to the left. The plug is still in and it’s been vibrating for about two minutes now, and Alex knows that Jack has the remote thing again, because it’s varying between fast and slow, and every time Alex grinds up against Jack the toy shifts a little and Alex moans, his head tipped back and mouth open, lips shiny.
He looks like every wet dream Jack has ever had since he was twelve.
Alex whines again, pushes his hips up into Jack’s to get him to pay attention again. Jack glances down at him and smirks, leaning over and pushing their lips together. He doesn’t hesitate to slide his tongue into his mouth, pressing and licking in all the right places.
Jack curves his hands over his boyfriend’s hips, holding them and pulling them up so they were rolling together with his own.
Alex is just a mess, murmuring words that don’t even make sense and moaning, soft and needy. He pleads with Jack, begs, he’s so fucking desperate. He just wants to be turned around and fucked, maybe on his hands and knees on the floor, or on his back on the bed. He doesn’t even care, he just wants it.
He’s shaking now, shaking against Jack, shaking apart at the seams.
Jack continues kissing Alex, kissing him deep and filthy. All of a sudden Jack is gone, and Alex whines but stays still, eyes closed, assuming that Jack is getting lube or something.
About fucking time.
When Jack gets back, Alex looks up at him, eyes a darker shade of brown then they usually are with the pupils blown wide. Jack smirks down at him, and his expression does not say good things for Alex.
He brushes his hand past his hip, nails scratching lightly at the skin. He wraps his hand around Alex’s dick, and Alex moans, moans loud because fuck, this is real friction, this is what he’s wanted for fucking hours. Jack’s hand disappears again and Alex whines, high and desperate, grinding back against the toy that is still vibrating in his ass and he will come just from this, dammit.
And then he’s got hands on him again, and that’s really fucking good, really, really fucking good. Alex realizes what Jack is doing about a second too late, he’s put a fucking cock ring on him.
A fucking cock ring.
Alex is about two seconds away from punching him in the face.
“Jack, please please please don’t - not this please,” he whimpers, thrusting his hips up into the air as if it’ll get thicker and somehow give him the friction he’s begging for.
Jack smirks, shaking his head. He pushes Alex’s legs apart, shifting so he’s sitting in between them. He taps his fingers against the base of the plug, pulling it out and Alex’s body shudders, clenching down around the toy. He tosses the toy down to the end of the bed, smirking up at Alex. He spreads lube over his fingers, and then presses two into Alex, adding three after basically no time because he’s still stretched from before the show.
Alex keens when Jack crooks his finger and rubs them over his prostate. It feels so good, so fucking good and this is too much too much too much because he can’t fucking come. But apparently that isn’t too much, not too much at all because then Jack is leaning forward and he fucking licks from the base to the head of his dick and then just swallows him down, and that boy has no fucking gag reflex what so fucking ever.
“Jack, Jack fucking I can’t even this - please Jack, it hurts it fucking hurts.” His voice is breathy, and it fucking does hurt, he can’t fucking come and it’s been hours and he’s so horny, fuck. Jack just keeps rubbing his fingers over the nerve, and Alex arches his hips into Jack’s mouth because this is like an assault against his senses and every single fucking nerve ending in his body is hard wired to his dick. And he can’t fucking come.
Alex’s cock slides out of Jack’s mouth with an obscene popping noise, and Jack pulls his finger out at the exact same moment, and Alex wants to cry because he can’t come and he has nothing inside him.
“You can’t come until I say so,” Jack murmurs, curving his tongue around the shell of Alex’s ear. “And I won’t say so until you scream for me.” He gasps and shudders, his eyes slipping shut and he grinds up into nothing, needs some fucking friction.
Jack flips him over onto his stomach, and Alex grinds against the bed, making soft and desperate uhn uhn uhn noise. He lubes himself up, making a soft noise as he pushes into his fist, before thrusting evenly inside him, till he bottomed out and just stayed still for a moment, panting.
Jack’s dick is better than fingers. It’s better than fingers, and it’s better than vibrators and butt plugs and dildos and Alex would know, because if it’s possible, they’ve tried it.
“Please, Jack.” Alex moans into the sheets, his whole body trembling. He pushes his ass back, trying to make Jack fucking move, or something. Jack’s hands hold Alex’s hips; holds them tight and firm, and it’s good, something anchoring him down.
It’s slow at first, and it’s like being fucking high, Jack makes him feel like he’s high or drunk but in the best possible way, feeling everything, feeling every inch of him filling him. Alex moans, bites his lip and then moans again.
It’s when Jack finally fucks him the way he needs that things get noisy. It’s hard and hot and fast, and just a little rough, fucking perfect. Alex moans loud and unmatched, pushing back against Jack’s thrusts and then grinding into the sheets, and the ring fucking hurts but it’s that kind of hurt that hurts so fucking good.
The only thing that can be heard in the room is Alex’s moans and Jack’s moans and the slap of skin on skin, and that’s fucking hot, so fucking hot and Alex wants to come, God dammit.
One of Jack’s hands release the grip he has on his hips, and it’s going to leave bruises later, but that’s okay, it’ll just be something for Alex to remember, something for him to press his hand into when he’s jerking off in his bunk a few days later. He reaches forward and threads his hand through his hair, pulling his head back.
Alex moans at the pain, it feels good, fucking good. He doesn’t usually have a pain kink like this, but this, this is something else, something else entirely.
He begs, fucking begs for it, a merciless plea of please, harder, faster, more. Jack gives it to him, gives him everything, speaking in a low voice in his ear, whispering filthy things that just make it worse for Alex because he can’t even think straight, can’t form words anymore.
It’s all moans and half vowels and consonants that are coming out of his mouth, curse words and begs. His whole body is fucking on fire, his skin is burning and hot to touch, everything is too hot. He clenches hard around Jack, and he can tell Jack’s close, but Alex is closer, so much fucking closer, has been since before they made that fucking discreet sex tape.
“G-gonna - “ Jack gets out before his hips stutter and he presses in deep, his hips rocking through his orgasm, his hands tightening their grip on Alex’s hair and Alex’s hip.
The next thing Alex knows is Jack pulling out of him and he’s empty again, what the fuck.
“God, Jesus fucking Christ Jack, it hurts.” Alex whimpers, grinding into the bed desperately, high pitched whines emitting from his throat.
“You gonna scream?” Jack asks in his ear, his voice a little rough like it always is after an orgasm.
Fucking yes, Alex promises, moaning and gripping the sheets like he’s going to fall off the earth if he doesn’t. Jack snakes his hand around Alex’s body, removes the cock ring, and Alex’s body fucking sings, surging forward and fucks into Jack’s hand, moaning and gasping.
Jack pulls him over the edge, and Alex screams his name, fucking screams it and he’s never been a screamer before, ever. He comes hard, white strings over Jack’s hand and the sheets and the bed, riding out his high into Jack’s hand.
Mother fucker.
He must have whited out, because the next thing he knows, Jack is wiping him off with a hot towel, murmuring soft nothings in his ear.
Alex groans and sits up a bit, and fuck, he’s sore. They move over to the other bed, and Alex has a clean pair of boxers on and he’d really like a shower, but not now, maybe in a few hours after he’s slept or something. He’s curled against Jack like a cat, dozing as they watch reruns of the Fresh Prince on the tv.
He hears Jack’s phone ring, not moving when Jack reaches over to the table to get it.
“Is Alex feeling better? Because we’re gonna go to a bar and I wanted to know if I should come and check in on him or something.” Matt’s voice says through the phone, and Jack glances down at Alex and shakes his head, smirking a little.
“No, he’s fine now I think.” Jack says, rubbing his shoulder with the pad of his thumb, and he swears that Alex purrs, but when he glances down at him he’s just watching Will Smith strutting across the tv screen.
"Are you sure?" Matt asks, sounding more than a little suspicious. "He sounded like shit earlier."
Jack laughs, nodding even though the tour manager can't hear him. "He always sounds like shit, Matt. Goodnight."
Author: Amanda, who goes by the alias apodiopsys
Pairing: Jalex
Rating: NC-17, this is like, porn ok.
Summary: “You can’t come until I say so,” Jack murmurs, curving his tongue around the shell of Alex’s ear. “And I won’t say so until you scream for me.”
Disclaimer: I own everything. I own the plug and I own the ring and, yeah. I own the boys too ok. I rent them out sometimes too.
Title and Cut: belong to BrokeNcyde's Teach Me How to Scream
A/N: so... yeah. um, this is kinky with a lot of kink and then sex on the side. I was ~inspired~ by the song Teach Me How to Scream while walking to school and I guess the sex gods just posessed me to write this. please don't kill me.
Jack has a weird question for Alex when he gets onto the bus.
"Have you ever thought about screaming?" Alex stares at him for a minute, silently.
"I mean, I've been listening to like, Breathe Carolina for an hour now and they're great." Jack explains, holding up his ipod.
Alex stares at his boyfriend for another minute. "Jack, we've never done screaming, ever. It's not who we are."
Jack shrugs a little, a knowing smirk on his face. "If that’s how you feel about it." he says, and then pulls Alex down ontop of him so they can makeout for a while before Matt yells at them about the 'no-sex-on-the-bus-rule.'
And Alex thinks that’s that.
-
There is twenty minutes before they need to go on stage, and Alex is so hard he can't think straight or see straight and he possibly can't remember his name. He's lying down across Jack's lap, Jack's fingers inside him and he's grinding for all he's worth against Jack's thigh.
"Fuck, Jack, Jack please. Jack, please I can't. Matt's going to kill us and - fuck." he cries out and Jack just smirks, rubbing his finger over his prostate. Alex shakes in Jack's arms, and it's too much too much and he's going to come very soon, he's so close he can fucking taste it.
And then Jack takes his fingers away. Alex whines, grinding insistently against Jack's thigh and he probably has precome all over the front of his jeans but fuck that because he is so fucking empty and he is going to kill something if he doesn't get off right fucking now.
"I'm gonna teach you how to scream, baby." Jack purrs in his ear, and Alex can't see it but Jack is slicking up a buttplug, and then pressing it against his entrance. Alex is confused for about half a second before he whimpers again, he just wants to get off, that’s all he fucking needs.
"Please Jack no, I can't, not on stage, the kids are all out there I can't, Jack please just let me come." Alex gasps, trying to grind against him. Jack presses the plug into him, twisting it a little and then smirks.
"Jack, Jack, I can't. I can't sing like this, I can't." Alex breathes, but he's gone still because even though this completely out of control and he just really wants to get off, this is by far the hottest thing they have ever done.
“Well. You have to now, because we have three minutes till we have to be on stage.” Jack smirks, and as if on cue, Matt is banging his fist against the side of the door facing the hall.
“I’m not coming in because I have a feeling I’m going to see things I don’t want to see but if you two aren’t out here in one minute I’m not letting you room together tonight.” Flyzik threatens from the hall, and Jack pushes Alex up, ignoring his whine and glancing down at the precome on his jeans.
“Clean that.” He says to Alex, looking more than a lot amused (and a lot turned on too, because, seriously.) and he can hear Matt groan, bang the door one more time with his fist and then walk away. Alex ducks his head down, making an indistinguishable noise because it shifts the plug inside him and he has to bite his lip, hard. He attaches his lips to the fabric and sucks, running his tongue over the rough denim until it’s as clean as it’s gonna get. Jack’s eyes are dark as he watches him.
He stands up and manhandles Alex until he’s standing, and he makes this noise every time, because the toy keeps shifting, and it’s not even shifting a lot, it’s just a little.
The plug isn’t even that big either; just big enough that Alex knows it’s there. He’s got his GK pants up and done when it mother fucking vibrates.
He jumps about six feet in the air, biting his lip hard, his eyes a little crazed looking.
“One minute,” Jack says cheerfully, and he holds up a little remote in his hand before fucking sauntering out the door.
Alex takes a minute to collect himself before walking (very carefully; he probably looks weird to anyone watching him) over to the side of the stage and taking his guitar from Danny.
He doesn’t see Jack pressing something into Matt’s hands with a piece of paper and a grin, just telling him to do what’s on the paper.
-
The first three songs are played fucking perfectly. No one misses a note, Alex can tell that the toy is there but he’s fucking ignoring it like a Boss.
They’ve just gotten into the chorus of Damned If I Do Ya when the plug fucking vibrates. All of a sudden, the oh-oh-oh’s stop sound like oh’s and more like, oh-oh-oh’s.
Alex practically sprains his neck twisting his head around to look at Jack. Jack clearly doesn’t have the remote though; his hands are flying across the guitar, flipping his hair and grinning at a girl in the audience.
What?
He can hear that Rian and Zack don’t have it either, he can hear the bassline and drums. He’s still singing, and it’s still buzzing, making him grind a little against his guitar, still as hard as he was before they went on stage.
The vibrating stops and Alex is able to continue on with the song, clutching possibly a little too tightly to his guitar. He can’t even imagine what he looks like, and all those girls with the All Time Low, Get Low bracelets on their wrists who are standing pressed up against the barrier are filming him while he’s got a fucking vibrating toy shoved up his ass and this is like a very subtle, very discreet sextape.
Alex has to admit, that’s very sneaky of Jack.
The chorus comes around again, and Alex is half expecting it, so his reaction isn’t quite as violent as the first time, but his voice cracks half way through and he needs to take a step back from the microphone, so fucking grateful that the guitar is covering his crotch because he has a fucking raging hard on right now that would probably stab everyone in the first row.
Maybe.
Alex takes in a shuddering breath, seeing Jack smirking as he plays his guitar. He doesn’t know how he’s doing it, but the vibrating has stopped and Alex can sing, although his voice sounds so fucking raw and wrecked it’s like Jack fucked his throat.
When Damned If I Do Ya is finally over, Jack smirks over in Alex’s direction and grabs his microphone. “Sorry about Alex’s voice, I think it’s my fault he sounds shittier than usual.” He says, raising his eyebrows and laughing as the crowd of girls screams, loud.
Someone flings a bra at Jack, and it gets hooked to his guitar. Jack holds it up and looks in Alex’s direction. “You can wear it for me later, baby.” He laughed, tossing it at Alex.
Crossdressing really isn’t their thing, but Alex is so turned on right now that anything sex-related sounds like a fucking party and his dick twitches a little. Alex catches it with one hand and throws it at Zack, who throws it at Rian, who throws it at Matt. It’s like Pass the Bra.
Two more songs in and they’re at Stella. If anyone was paying hard enough attention, they’d see that Alex is practically shaking, and he’s missing about a quarter of the notes he’s supposed to be playing on his guitar.
And the vibrating is becoming more insistant, not just on the pauses and choruses, but at five second intervals.
They’ve got one encore left, and that’s it. That’s fucking it and Alex can get off fuck.
While they’re standing backstage, listening to the crowding chanting All Time Low, All Time Low, All Time Low like their future happiness depends on it, Jack slides his arm around Alex’s waist and cups Alex through his jeans.
“Fuck.” Jack smirks, squeezing lightly. Alex just whines, presses his hips into Jack’s touch and hides his face in his neck. He needs to come; he is going to cry if Jack doesn’t let him come as soon as they get off the stage.
“Please Jack, I can’t, I can’t. I’m so -“Alex whimpers, bites his lip hard. They don’t have time, they have to be back out on the stage in like twenty seconds but he is about to explode holy shit.
By the end of Too Much, Alex is actually shaking. He barely gets out the “Thank you! You guys are fucking beautiful!” before he’s throwing his guitar at Danny and dragging Jack to the first room he can find that has a door.
“I’m not getting you off till we get to the hotel.” Jack smirks, and Alex almost does scream out of sexual frustration.
He does hit Jack though, hard. He would punch him in the dick except he knows that it hurts and he kind of wants his dick later, so.
Jack disappears for a minute, and it’s an unspoken rule, but Alex isn’t allowed to touch himself, so he keeps his hands busy, rolling up chords and things.
When Jack comes back, Alex is about to kill someone (and it’d probably be Danny because he’s closest and that’d be bad because All Time Low kind of needs their guitar tech).
He grabs Alex’s wrist, pulls him away from people and out back, back to the loading area where the fans can’t get to. They haven’t even showered yet, and they’re both really, really sweaty but Alex doesn’t even care, he’s been hard for hours now, and it isn’t even funny anymore.
It wasn’t funny to begin with.
“Matt told me to take you to the hotel. He said that you looked like shit and sang even worse and that you need sleep so that you don’t get sick.” Jack smirked, leaning in close to Alex’s ear. “But we both know you aren’t sick, are you?”
Alex whimpers, dropping his head onto Jack’s shoulder. “Please Jack, can we just. I need. I can’t.” His expression is torn, he’s so fucking hard and they still need to get to the hotel and fuck. He can’t even form proper sentences anymore.
He barely remembers how they get there; pretty much everything is in a haze now. Jack passes the money to the cabdriver and pulls Alex out, manhandling Alex into the hotel and elevator. It’s a good thing that they checked in before they went to the venue.
Alex likes the touching, likes it because everything feels good right now, every single touch goes straight to his dick.
The next thing Alex knows, he’s pressed up against the door and Jack is trying to get the key card to go through. The door swings open and Alex stumbles into the room, pulling Jack with him onto the bed.
“If you don’t get me off right fucking now I swear to god I will chop your dick off and wear it as a necklace.” Alex threatens, pulling at Jack’s shirt, trying to get them both naked as fast as possible.
Alex gets naked faster than Jack does, and by the time Jack is down to his boxers Alex is grinding up against him, hard against his stomach and curving slightly to the left. The plug is still in and it’s been vibrating for about two minutes now, and Alex knows that Jack has the remote thing again, because it’s varying between fast and slow, and every time Alex grinds up against Jack the toy shifts a little and Alex moans, his head tipped back and mouth open, lips shiny.
He looks like every wet dream Jack has ever had since he was twelve.
Alex whines again, pushes his hips up into Jack’s to get him to pay attention again. Jack glances down at him and smirks, leaning over and pushing their lips together. He doesn’t hesitate to slide his tongue into his mouth, pressing and licking in all the right places.
Jack curves his hands over his boyfriend’s hips, holding them and pulling them up so they were rolling together with his own.
Alex is just a mess, murmuring words that don’t even make sense and moaning, soft and needy. He pleads with Jack, begs, he’s so fucking desperate. He just wants to be turned around and fucked, maybe on his hands and knees on the floor, or on his back on the bed. He doesn’t even care, he just wants it.
He’s shaking now, shaking against Jack, shaking apart at the seams.
Jack continues kissing Alex, kissing him deep and filthy. All of a sudden Jack is gone, and Alex whines but stays still, eyes closed, assuming that Jack is getting lube or something.
About fucking time.
When Jack gets back, Alex looks up at him, eyes a darker shade of brown then they usually are with the pupils blown wide. Jack smirks down at him, and his expression does not say good things for Alex.
He brushes his hand past his hip, nails scratching lightly at the skin. He wraps his hand around Alex’s dick, and Alex moans, moans loud because fuck, this is real friction, this is what he’s wanted for fucking hours. Jack’s hand disappears again and Alex whines, high and desperate, grinding back against the toy that is still vibrating in his ass and he will come just from this, dammit.
And then he’s got hands on him again, and that’s really fucking good, really, really fucking good. Alex realizes what Jack is doing about a second too late, he’s put a fucking cock ring on him.
A fucking cock ring.
Alex is about two seconds away from punching him in the face.
“Jack, please please please don’t - not this please,” he whimpers, thrusting his hips up into the air as if it’ll get thicker and somehow give him the friction he’s begging for.
Jack smirks, shaking his head. He pushes Alex’s legs apart, shifting so he’s sitting in between them. He taps his fingers against the base of the plug, pulling it out and Alex’s body shudders, clenching down around the toy. He tosses the toy down to the end of the bed, smirking up at Alex. He spreads lube over his fingers, and then presses two into Alex, adding three after basically no time because he’s still stretched from before the show.
Alex keens when Jack crooks his finger and rubs them over his prostate. It feels so good, so fucking good and this is too much too much too much because he can’t fucking come. But apparently that isn’t too much, not too much at all because then Jack is leaning forward and he fucking licks from the base to the head of his dick and then just swallows him down, and that boy has no fucking gag reflex what so fucking ever.
“Jack, Jack fucking I can’t even this - please Jack, it hurts it fucking hurts.” His voice is breathy, and it fucking does hurt, he can’t fucking come and it’s been hours and he’s so horny, fuck. Jack just keeps rubbing his fingers over the nerve, and Alex arches his hips into Jack’s mouth because this is like an assault against his senses and every single fucking nerve ending in his body is hard wired to his dick. And he can’t fucking come.
Alex’s cock slides out of Jack’s mouth with an obscene popping noise, and Jack pulls his finger out at the exact same moment, and Alex wants to cry because he can’t come and he has nothing inside him.
“You can’t come until I say so,” Jack murmurs, curving his tongue around the shell of Alex’s ear. “And I won’t say so until you scream for me.” He gasps and shudders, his eyes slipping shut and he grinds up into nothing, needs some fucking friction.
Jack flips him over onto his stomach, and Alex grinds against the bed, making soft and desperate uhn uhn uhn noise. He lubes himself up, making a soft noise as he pushes into his fist, before thrusting evenly inside him, till he bottomed out and just stayed still for a moment, panting.
Jack’s dick is better than fingers. It’s better than fingers, and it’s better than vibrators and butt plugs and dildos and Alex would know, because if it’s possible, they’ve tried it.
“Please, Jack.” Alex moans into the sheets, his whole body trembling. He pushes his ass back, trying to make Jack fucking move, or something. Jack’s hands hold Alex’s hips; holds them tight and firm, and it’s good, something anchoring him down.
It’s slow at first, and it’s like being fucking high, Jack makes him feel like he’s high or drunk but in the best possible way, feeling everything, feeling every inch of him filling him. Alex moans, bites his lip and then moans again.
It’s when Jack finally fucks him the way he needs that things get noisy. It’s hard and hot and fast, and just a little rough, fucking perfect. Alex moans loud and unmatched, pushing back against Jack’s thrusts and then grinding into the sheets, and the ring fucking hurts but it’s that kind of hurt that hurts so fucking good.
The only thing that can be heard in the room is Alex’s moans and Jack’s moans and the slap of skin on skin, and that’s fucking hot, so fucking hot and Alex wants to come, God dammit.
One of Jack’s hands release the grip he has on his hips, and it’s going to leave bruises later, but that’s okay, it’ll just be something for Alex to remember, something for him to press his hand into when he’s jerking off in his bunk a few days later. He reaches forward and threads his hand through his hair, pulling his head back.
Alex moans at the pain, it feels good, fucking good. He doesn’t usually have a pain kink like this, but this, this is something else, something else entirely.
He begs, fucking begs for it, a merciless plea of please, harder, faster, more. Jack gives it to him, gives him everything, speaking in a low voice in his ear, whispering filthy things that just make it worse for Alex because he can’t even think straight, can’t form words anymore.
It’s all moans and half vowels and consonants that are coming out of his mouth, curse words and begs. His whole body is fucking on fire, his skin is burning and hot to touch, everything is too hot. He clenches hard around Jack, and he can tell Jack’s close, but Alex is closer, so much fucking closer, has been since before they made that fucking discreet sex tape.
“G-gonna - “ Jack gets out before his hips stutter and he presses in deep, his hips rocking through his orgasm, his hands tightening their grip on Alex’s hair and Alex’s hip.
The next thing Alex knows is Jack pulling out of him and he’s empty again, what the fuck.
“God, Jesus fucking Christ Jack, it hurts.” Alex whimpers, grinding into the bed desperately, high pitched whines emitting from his throat.
“You gonna scream?” Jack asks in his ear, his voice a little rough like it always is after an orgasm.
Fucking yes, Alex promises, moaning and gripping the sheets like he’s going to fall off the earth if he doesn’t. Jack snakes his hand around Alex’s body, removes the cock ring, and Alex’s body fucking sings, surging forward and fucks into Jack’s hand, moaning and gasping.
Jack pulls him over the edge, and Alex screams his name, fucking screams it and he’s never been a screamer before, ever. He comes hard, white strings over Jack’s hand and the sheets and the bed, riding out his high into Jack’s hand.
Mother fucker.
He must have whited out, because the next thing he knows, Jack is wiping him off with a hot towel, murmuring soft nothings in his ear.
Alex groans and sits up a bit, and fuck, he’s sore. They move over to the other bed, and Alex has a clean pair of boxers on and he’d really like a shower, but not now, maybe in a few hours after he’s slept or something. He’s curled against Jack like a cat, dozing as they watch reruns of the Fresh Prince on the tv.
He hears Jack’s phone ring, not moving when Jack reaches over to the table to get it.
“Is Alex feeling better? Because we’re gonna go to a bar and I wanted to know if I should come and check in on him or something.” Matt’s voice says through the phone, and Jack glances down at Alex and shakes his head, smirking a little.
“No, he’s fine now I think.” Jack says, rubbing his shoulder with the pad of his thumb, and he swears that Alex purrs, but when he glances down at him he’s just watching Will Smith strutting across the tv screen.
"Are you sure?" Matt asks, sounding more than a little suspicious. "He sounded like shit earlier."
Jack laughs, nodding even though the tour manager can't hear him. "He always sounds like shit, Matt. Goodnight."