Chapter Text
Europe is rainy this fall.
The shows leave Alex more exhausted than he would like to admit, his lungs hurting each time he tries to take a deep breath and he knows he’s going to lose his voice sooner or later, unavoidably, and be forced to eat disgusting amounts of honey and garlic to save the situation.
They’re in Toulouse, France, having a rare day off and everybody’s already fucked off to their own tasks and plans. There’s a thunderstorm outside that makes Alex’s skin crawl whenever it gets louder. It’s weird. He never cared about thunderstorms so much, he even used to like them when he was young.
Young. What a fun, foreign concept.
Alex is in his hotel room, fixing up a cup of melissa tea, the neatly made white bed he can see in the corner of his eye so, so tempting. He wants nothing more than to have his drink and fall into the warm embrace of sleep.
The only problem? Jack. Jack had a good night’s sleep last night, ate a nice breakfast and spent most of the day walking around Toulouse, taking stupid selfies and getting rained on. Probably had one cup of coffee too many as well, because he’s in Alex’s room, talking at him incessantly, not really realizing Alex’s lack of interest, tugging on his sleeve, energetic and excited.
And he’s way, way too loud.
“So, Lex? What do you think about it?”
Alex is blanking.
“I don’t know, Jack. I’m tired. I just wanna drink my tea in peace, and you won’t stop talking.”
Jack frowns, tilting his head.
“Oh, okay. I’ll stop, just answer my question.”
“I can’t, I wasn’t listening.”
Jack tilts his head even more, to a comical effect almost, and then snaps back.
“Alright.” He quickly walks past Alex, making sure to bump shoulders on the way, and ignores the hand Alex extends even though he’d rather see Jack go and have his peace.
But Alex can’t. He has to make this right.
“Jack. Fucking wait.”
He stops. Turns around. Looks at Alex, furious. “What? Should I apologize for wanting to talk to you? For wanting to properly hang out with my favorite person? Do you want me to apologize, Gaskarth?”
“Well, maybe you should’ve asked me if I wanted to hang out first.” Alex feels a sting as the words come out of his mouth and looks away from Jack, not wanting to see his reaction.
“Oh, right, I forgot. I’m not even entitled to hang out with you anymore.”
What?
“What? What do you mean?”
Jack takes a deep breath and the anger on his face gives way to sadness for a fleeting second. “Nothing. Bye, you idiot, enjoy loneliness.”
He slams the door on his way out. Why does he have to make everything so difficult?
Alex can feel the anger buzzing within him, just below the surface. He approaches the door, not sure if he wants to lock it or just swing it open and yell after Jack. Nothing feels right, nothing but resting his forehead against the wood and taking a couple of long, calming breaths. While he’s on it, his brain comes up with a crystal clear idea as to what Jack meant about not being entitled to hang out with Alex anymore.
It’s simple, it’s obvious and Alex is such an idiot.
Trying to drink melissa tea doesn’t work. Trying to sleep is a complete fantasy at this point, so Alex grabs a jacket, pulls a hood up and heads out of the hotel room, out of the hotel and down an unfamiliar street, the October wind wrecking him and the rain pouring right into his eyes.
Yeah, Alex is ready to admit that maybe that wasn’t the best idea. He circles around the hotel anyway, figuring he deserves it and that maybe, just maybe, it will help him clear his head. He can feel most of his fury has evaporated as he enters the hotel again, his wet combat boots leaving stains on the plush burgundy carpet.
The elevator ride up takes forever. When Alex finally reaches the right floor, instead of heading towards his own room, he stops by the door to the left of his and knocks tentatively.
Jack opens the door and he’s wearing a wet jacket and boots, like he just came back from the outside as well. He tries to say something Alex doesn’t quite hear because he’s too busy falling into Jack, pushing, breaking his resistance. Jack’s either playing along or still mad at Alex because he puts up a fight and shoves him flat against the wall, extending an arm to keep Alex at a distance.
“Sorry is not a good look on you, Lex.”
“Thank heavens I’m not sorry, right?”
The smell of rain attacks Alex’s senses. It all comes crashing down and Jack throws himself at Alex, and for a second Alex is not sure if Jack wants to kill him or fuck him, but then he’s unzipping Alex’s jeans in a frantic motion, trying to bite his neck at the same time. Alex doesn’t have to be told twice, he doesn’t have to be told at all, so he starts palming Jack through his jeans and yanks his wet leather jacket off him.
Alex is standing in front of Jack with no underwear on, pants around his ankles on the floor, half-hard, struggling to breathe.
Jack takes off his own shoes, jeans and boxers and pushes two of his fingers into Alex’s mouth. Alex sucks on them, thoughtfully, slowly, twirling his tongue, throwing Jack a challenging glare.
When Jack is like that, there’s no escape. No way to run. And Alex doesn’t want to run.
Jack removes the fingers from Alex’s mouth and shoves them mercilessly up Alex’s ass.
Alex gasps and moans at the sudden fullness, and that drives Jack insane.
“Oh yes, baby. Moan for me. I’m gonna make you come undone. I’m gonna make you scream.”
Alex would answer him, he’d say something spiteful and mean and hot, but he can only moan even louder and bite on Jack’s neck when Jack bends the fingers to brush against Alex’s sensitive spot.
Jack laughs. His boner presses against Alex’s thigh, leaking already. Alex is not sure about the exact order of things, but Jack mutters “Fuck”, the fingers are gone, Alex is disappointed and then pressed face-forward to the wall, Jack’s dick pushing inside of him. His palms are on Alex’s hips but Alex has nothing to hold onto in front of him, so he reaches back and grabs onto Jack’s hips. His forehead rests against the wall.
The amount of lubrication is too small for Jack to slide out and then back in properly, so he focuses on short, rocking movements that make Alex’s knees buckle. A string of curses mixed with Jack’s name over and over again escapes Alex’s mouth.
Alex turns his head as much as he can to kiss Jack, letting Jack's hands roam his chest and stomach underneath his t-shirt until he finally reaches for Alex’s cock, and Alex knows he’s awfully close.
“Jack. I’m gonna die here.”
“No you’re not.” He picks up the pace, thrusts more shallow, and lets Alex come in his hand, probably leaving stains on the wall, while waves of white hot pleasure pass through Alex. He can feel Jack’s release inside him, too, warm hands clinging to his hips, lips sticking to his shoulder.
Alex turns around to look at Jack’s face when he pulls out. His pupils are blown, hair messed up, t-shirt wrinkled and sweaty. Alex probably looks similar.
“Now this is a good look on you.” Jack leans in to kiss Alex, gently, and Alex knows they’ve made up, so he responds in the same manner.
“Lucky you’re such an excellent fuck, Barakat, because hell, you’re annoying sometimes.”
They crash on Jack’s unmade bed.
“By the way, you are entitled to hang out with me, fucktard. You’re my best friend.”
“And your favorite side piece?” asks Jack in a small voice.
“My only side piece.”
Alex ignores the pain in his guts when he kisses Jack’s forehead, the other man curled up on his chest. Jack knows what he signed up for. He’s an adult. I’m not breaking his heart or anything.
Soon enough Jack falls asleep, his face adorned by the gentlest smile, his fingers laced tight with Alex’s. Alex's golden wedding ring is catching the light of the bedside lamp, like his conscience reminding him of everything he's doing wrong. He can’t ignore the pesky thoughts about an alternate reality in which Jack and him are together, out and proud and happy without all the mess.
He chooses to close his eyes, cuddle closer to Jack and laugh at himself, bitterly, the thunder outside still roaring.