5 Times Jack was Drunk
Title: 5 Times Jack was Drunk
Pairing: Jack Wilshere/Martin Kelly
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not true, don't own them
Author's Note: First time I've written something with this pairing, liked it and will probably write more
Warnings: Swearing, mentions m/m sex, intoxicated people...?
Summary: The title says it all
Wordcount: 660
1.
Jumping up and down to the music, not a fucking care in the world. Why should he have any? He's only seventeen. His glass held up high above his head, the cheap wine running along his hand and arm. He's too busy living his life to give a shit. Closed eyes, big smile on his lips, bringing the glass down to drink some more just because he can.
"Oh fuck. My glass is empty... Martin?!"
Two hands turning him around, framing his frowning face and giving him a sloppy, quick kiss on the lips. They grin in unison. Jack decides the wine isn't that interesting anymore now that Martin is standing in front of him, hot, excited and intoxicated. Fuck yes this will be a good night.
2.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Martin, I'm so sorry..." He can hear that his own words are slurred and he can smell the alcohol on himself. Fuck.
"Yeah, whatever. Just go home."
His vision is blurred by unshed tears as he reaches forward to grab hold of Martin's shirt, sniffing out apology after apology. He's pretty sure Martin rolls his eyes when he accepts the other boy in his arms, but he just falls onto the other's strong body with closed eyes.
"I promise, I didn't" another sob "didn't mean to hit you, I-I just. I don't know. I'm s-sorry-"
Martin hushes him and Jack is so thankful for the safe arms around him, pressing him into Martin's chest. They sway from side to side, Martin consoling him with sweet nothings until he's calm again. Somehow he thinks Martin will forgive him.
3.
It feels so good, the hand around his hard flesh gripping tighter when he lets out a moan. It's the least romantic thing he's ever been through. A toilet at some random person's house, someone banging on the door, yelling that they "need to take a piss!". Fuck, as if they cared. It's hard to get a good rhythm when neither can barely stand up. All that beer. But god does it feel good to have Martin suck and lick on his neck while helping him reaching his orgasm.
4.
He's a jealous guy. Of course he is, he doesn't want to admit it though. But when his boyfriend is flirting openly with some ugly shit - that's not true, the boy is fucking beautiful - he can't help but react. He's trying to control himself, drowning another glass of vodka. Talking to Theo. Drowning another glass of vodka. He's touching his arm now.
"Fuck you!"
Was that really him screaming? He's not sure but he is very aware that Martin is holding him back, because he is bloody well going to hit that piece of scum for touching up his boyfriend. Protecting what's his is important, especially when the one he's protecting has his fucking heart.
5.
"Jack, you're drunk." The other boy giggles out, yes giggles. Jack can feel how his entire body is mushy and happy, not only because of the beers he drank earlier.
"No, I'm not. You are though, you can't even sit up without falling." A few seconds later Martin hiccups and falls back, landing on the soft, but cold grass. Jack can't control his laughter but stops when he looks down at the boy lying spread out on the lawn.His hair's tousled, his cheeks are flushed, eyelids heavy and lips so, so pink and inviting.
It's dark besides the streetlights, keeping the quiet park somehow alive. And god is it quiet, just their breathing and rustling of fabric when Martin lifts his arm and draws a line with a finger along Jack's jawline. He'd been leaning forward without realising it, staring into shining eyes, his heart beating faster than he's ever experienced. He licks his lips, laying down beside Martin, their noses almost touching. Jack is sure the whole world stops turning when their lips meet, innocent kisses that never stop, but still not lasting long enough.