Beta:
Lisa
Title: Denial.
Summary: "M’not gonna do it, Nick! Quit asking me." Alex huffs out quietly, trying desperately to zip up his boots with not-so-steady hands and avoid that glare that Nick’s sending towards him. It’s a dark, accusing, playful ohmeingottyouareadevil type look and Alex is afraid that Nick will start demanding him to do other foolish and stupid things as well if he doesn’t put a stop to it now (which he’s really trying to do…it’s just that Nick is very persuasive when he wants to be. And by persuasive he means he knows how to ram a tongue down your throat and shut you up real quick).
Disclaimer: Just a small little laugh, so it's not real. Alex would ADMIT it in real life, becaise that's what MEN do.
"M’not gonna do it, Nick! Quit asking me." Alex huffs out quietly, trying desperately to zip up his boots with not so steady hands and avoid that glare that Nick’s sending towards him. It’s a dark, accusing, playful ohmeingottyouareadevil type look and Alex is afraid that Nick will start demanding him to do other foolish and stupid things as well if he doesn’t put a stop to it now (which he’s really trying to do…it’s just that Nick is very persuasive when he wants to be. And by persuasive he means he knows how to fucking ram a tongue down your throat and shut you up real quick).
"C’mon, s’just a little fun." Nick pouts a little, all boyish charm and starry figure; lanky arms, large arse, sultrily lips and such. He’s the poster boy for fucking, isn’t he? Maybe he should make a perfume of some sort, Alex was sure he’d buy it. He could see it now: "McCarthy: The Fragrance" stronger than axe, smells like sex, sweat, sin and vodka, will have girls ( and boys) within a 30 mile radius leaping onto you within seconds (side note: please war protective gear, McCarthy is not to be held responsible for the injuring of it’s consumers.) Alex should stop thinking about Nick. He needs to stop thinking about Nick right now and his boyish charm and starry figure and elegant fingers and lush pink lips before-- fuck.
Besides, Alex thinks -rationalizes with himself- there is nothing fun about what Nick is trying to convince him to do. Actually, it’s rather lewd and naughty ( he was sure his grandmother wouldn’t approve of it) and why would Alexander Paul Huntley Kapranos, pretty perfect poster boy for Goody Goody magazine and disapprover of dirty sex involving body parts of the same (ohmigod) sex, want to do that? It was immoral! Bloody feckless. It was nasty! It was horrid! "Because!" Alex says it like it’s the most plain thing in the world, as if there’s street signs and a fucking parade going on behind Nick and him shouting out the answer, because it was that bloody sodding obvious.
"Well?" Nick’s sucking on the pout of his lips now, edging dangerously close to Alex, and is very amused; Alex has a look on his face that slightly resembles a cow after it’s been tipped over by a bunch of rowdy schoolboys. "And don’t tell me that it’s immoral or rude or any of that other shite, Huntley, because it-"
"Kapranos!" Alex cries, jerking his hand up, still trying to get the zipper ( stuck to the fucking fabric, bloody hell) all the way up. Focus on the zipper, Alex. Don’t look at Nick and focus on the zipper and the faster you do that the faster you and Nick can actually get out of the dressing room and back into public where there will be no seclusion or intimacy or time for Nick to shag you silly against the wall. Not that he was thinking that. Nein. Nadda.
"Whatever." Nick waves a hand dismissively, crawling --Christ-- over the table that separated the two of them like so sort of raunchy seductive tiger in a jungle. Alex’s hand shook even harder as he tried to zip up his boot like a character trying to get out of water before Jaws came to snap them up. Jaws. Nick has a strong Jaw. He could do some pretty amazing things with that Jaw. Things that could include-- (how did that theme song go again? Da na, Dana nana…da na naaa….) "The Nick wants some fun…."
"The Alex doesn’t want to!" Alex cries, jumping from the couch he had his legs across and up against the wall. Alex hated when Nick started referring to people as ‘The’ as if it gave them a higher seniority of some sort. Which it didn’t. Not at all. That didn’t sound fucking sexy at all. Alex was now tugging on the zipper, having half a mind to just throw the fucking things at Nick and run from the door to hide behind a not so inconspicuous Bob and Paul, who were probably standing outside of the door now, waiting ( and listening and giggling) for both him and Nick to come out.
Alex watched as Nick slithered across the room, like a snake, eyes all ablaze with some sort of faux passion that he kept personally bottled up and reserved for Alex until he was around. Alex didn’t know when it started, all he can remember were the few beginning shy remarks and jokes, and then the pats on the back and then the smiles and the lingering touches and then the full of snogs and then…well, there hasn’t been any then yet, but he’s not waiting around to find out, is he? No! Because that’s nasty. That’s nasty and lewd and vile and…and and and Nick has got to stop wearing that fucking red and white t-shirt because it was driving Alex CRAZY!!! ( With anger. Like a bull. Because red is bad. Gerr. Not sexual passion. Or want. Or anything. …yeah.)
Alex gives the boot one final tug and the zipper snaps all the way up just as Nick slaps his palms at either side of his body and looks at him straight in the eye; all sweat and gentle wisps of breath. "You are one weird bloke, Alex. I just can’t figure you out. One minute you’re hot for it the next you aren’t, what gives? You got a switch somewhere that turns it on and off?" Nick’s forehead is right next to Alex’s shoulders now, and it’s funny at how short Nick is ( a sexual dominatrix midget, he’d suppose).
Alex swallows slightly, staring at the doorknob now and not Nick. He always wondered if he had super powers, wouldn’t it be amazing and wonderful if he had telekinesis or something? Just move objects with his mind? Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, and, given the crisis that he was in (because a sexual advance from Nicholas McCarthy is a crisis) he’d awaken his telekinetic powers and unlock the door and fly out of it? It worked on Sailor Moon ( long bus ride, Andy and Nick were bickering about Captain Underpants and Bob was sleeping while standing up, who the hell knew where Paul was) so it should work for him as well. He closed his eyes tight and focused on the doorknob. You will shake and open, he cooed out. "I said open , damnit!" He snapped a little louder and Nick yelled at him again, jabbing a finger into his chest.
"See, you just denied me and now you’re telling me to open my legs--"
"N-N-N-No… the door, I was….using my erm….telekinetic powers to open the door." Alex stops and hangs his head, flushed with stupidity and annoyance and ( want?! Lust?! Need?! Passion?! ACHE!?!? LOVE!?!?!) something else that he can’t put his finger on and DOES NOT want to put his finger on. Because Nick is his best mate who is selfish and awkward and oozes sex like nobody’s business. And that’s bad. Oh god, Alex lips his lips. That’s so bad. "Nick….I’m just not…like you, if you know what I mean." Alex says finally, grasping the words that he’s been trying to make out in his mind. But they don’t seem as satisfying as he thought they would.
"So you’re saying if I was to kiss you…you wouldn’t like it? Wouldn’t feel anything?"
"No…" Alex looks at the wall. Walls are pretty. He likes the floral design and the little tiny copper engravings at the bottom near the sockets at the bottom of the wall…
"Not at all?"
Alex is looking at the floor now, the carpet is pretty. Pretty, pretty pretty. "Nope…"
" Not a pinch?"
Look at the ceiling! It’s so captivating, oh my, it’s so beautiful and delicate with it’s cream colors and light fixtures and such and--- OhMyBloodyFuckingGod why is Nick kissing him!? Alex cries (moans) out, shocked by the force of Nick’s lips (body, hands) against his own ( so familiar, so lovely) that he falls back against the wall fully and grasps a fistful of his shirt to push him away. Because Alexander doesn’t kiss boys. He doesn’t like that sort of thing. But Nick’s tongue is so…good. And suddenly he’s not pushing him away but bringing him closer, trying to taste more of Nick; feel him. It’s a desperate sort of cling, but Nick doesn’t seem to mind because Alex, out of ( inspiration? Confusion? Instinct?) does something with his own tongue that makes Nick gasp out, almost choking on his own spit. Sweaty fingers find tuffs of hair and curl into them gently, Nick’s fingers making gentle little circles into Alex’s scalp now, claming, reassuring, and it’s not bad, Alex thinks, shocked. It feels good. Feels bloody fucking good. Feels stellar. Astounding. Mind-boggling.
Sadly, however, they must part for air and Nick and Alex are both left breathless, staring at each other oddly, as if it was the first time that they had touched each other. It almost felt like it was; like Alex had met Nick for the first time and was instantly attracted to him, and he couldn’t control it and just dived in. Nick slid his hands down to Alex’s waist and smiled smugly, all lucky charms and smiles once again, if not a tad winded. "You were saying?"
Yeah. What was he saying? Alex opened his mouth only to close it because at the minute Bob and Paul fell on top of each other as the door flew open, embarrassed and flushed. Nick shot them a quizzical look and Alex simply leaned his head on Nick’s shoulder, still trying to catch his breath. As he closed his eyes slowly, still sort of in a haze, all confused and such, he could’ve swore he heard Bob say triumphantly "You owe me 20 quid, I told you Alex wouldn’t last for long!"
Title: Denial.
Summary: "M’not gonna do it, Nick! Quit asking me." Alex huffs out quietly, trying desperately to zip up his boots with not-so-steady hands and avoid that glare that Nick’s sending towards him. It’s a dark, accusing, playful ohmeingottyouareadevil type look and Alex is afraid that Nick will start demanding him to do other foolish and stupid things as well if he doesn’t put a stop to it now (which he’s really trying to do…it’s just that Nick is very persuasive when he wants to be. And by persuasive he means he knows how to ram a tongue down your throat and shut you up real quick).
Disclaimer: Just a small little laugh, so it's not real. Alex would ADMIT it in real life, becaise that's what MEN do.
"M’not gonna do it, Nick! Quit asking me." Alex huffs out quietly, trying desperately to zip up his boots with not so steady hands and avoid that glare that Nick’s sending towards him. It’s a dark, accusing, playful ohmeingottyouareadevil type look and Alex is afraid that Nick will start demanding him to do other foolish and stupid things as well if he doesn’t put a stop to it now (which he’s really trying to do…it’s just that Nick is very persuasive when he wants to be. And by persuasive he means he knows how to fucking ram a tongue down your throat and shut you up real quick).
"C’mon, s’just a little fun." Nick pouts a little, all boyish charm and starry figure; lanky arms, large arse, sultrily lips and such. He’s the poster boy for fucking, isn’t he? Maybe he should make a perfume of some sort, Alex was sure he’d buy it. He could see it now: "McCarthy: The Fragrance" stronger than axe, smells like sex, sweat, sin and vodka, will have girls ( and boys) within a 30 mile radius leaping onto you within seconds (side note: please war protective gear, McCarthy is not to be held responsible for the injuring of it’s consumers.) Alex should stop thinking about Nick. He needs to stop thinking about Nick right now and his boyish charm and starry figure and elegant fingers and lush pink lips before-- fuck.
Besides, Alex thinks -rationalizes with himself- there is nothing fun about what Nick is trying to convince him to do. Actually, it’s rather lewd and naughty ( he was sure his grandmother wouldn’t approve of it) and why would Alexander Paul Huntley Kapranos, pretty perfect poster boy for Goody Goody magazine and disapprover of dirty sex involving body parts of the same (ohmigod) sex, want to do that? It was immoral! Bloody feckless. It was nasty! It was horrid! "Because!" Alex says it like it’s the most plain thing in the world, as if there’s street signs and a fucking parade going on behind Nick and him shouting out the answer, because it was that bloody sodding obvious.
"Well?" Nick’s sucking on the pout of his lips now, edging dangerously close to Alex, and is very amused; Alex has a look on his face that slightly resembles a cow after it’s been tipped over by a bunch of rowdy schoolboys. "And don’t tell me that it’s immoral or rude or any of that other shite, Huntley, because it-"
"Kapranos!" Alex cries, jerking his hand up, still trying to get the zipper ( stuck to the fucking fabric, bloody hell) all the way up. Focus on the zipper, Alex. Don’t look at Nick and focus on the zipper and the faster you do that the faster you and Nick can actually get out of the dressing room and back into public where there will be no seclusion or intimacy or time for Nick to shag you silly against the wall. Not that he was thinking that. Nein. Nadda.
"Whatever." Nick waves a hand dismissively, crawling --Christ-- over the table that separated the two of them like so sort of raunchy seductive tiger in a jungle. Alex’s hand shook even harder as he tried to zip up his boot like a character trying to get out of water before Jaws came to snap them up. Jaws. Nick has a strong Jaw. He could do some pretty amazing things with that Jaw. Things that could include-- (how did that theme song go again? Da na, Dana nana…da na naaa….) "The Nick wants some fun…."
"The Alex doesn’t want to!" Alex cries, jumping from the couch he had his legs across and up against the wall. Alex hated when Nick started referring to people as ‘The’ as if it gave them a higher seniority of some sort. Which it didn’t. Not at all. That didn’t sound fucking sexy at all. Alex was now tugging on the zipper, having half a mind to just throw the fucking things at Nick and run from the door to hide behind a not so inconspicuous Bob and Paul, who were probably standing outside of the door now, waiting ( and listening and giggling) for both him and Nick to come out.
Alex watched as Nick slithered across the room, like a snake, eyes all ablaze with some sort of faux passion that he kept personally bottled up and reserved for Alex until he was around. Alex didn’t know when it started, all he can remember were the few beginning shy remarks and jokes, and then the pats on the back and then the smiles and the lingering touches and then the full of snogs and then…well, there hasn’t been any then yet, but he’s not waiting around to find out, is he? No! Because that’s nasty. That’s nasty and lewd and vile and…and and and Nick has got to stop wearing that fucking red and white t-shirt because it was driving Alex CRAZY!!! ( With anger. Like a bull. Because red is bad. Gerr. Not sexual passion. Or want. Or anything. …yeah.)
Alex gives the boot one final tug and the zipper snaps all the way up just as Nick slaps his palms at either side of his body and looks at him straight in the eye; all sweat and gentle wisps of breath. "You are one weird bloke, Alex. I just can’t figure you out. One minute you’re hot for it the next you aren’t, what gives? You got a switch somewhere that turns it on and off?" Nick’s forehead is right next to Alex’s shoulders now, and it’s funny at how short Nick is ( a sexual dominatrix midget, he’d suppose).
Alex swallows slightly, staring at the doorknob now and not Nick. He always wondered if he had super powers, wouldn’t it be amazing and wonderful if he had telekinesis or something? Just move objects with his mind? Maybe if he concentrated hard enough, and, given the crisis that he was in (because a sexual advance from Nicholas McCarthy is a crisis) he’d awaken his telekinetic powers and unlock the door and fly out of it? It worked on Sailor Moon ( long bus ride, Andy and Nick were bickering about Captain Underpants and Bob was sleeping while standing up, who the hell knew where Paul was) so it should work for him as well. He closed his eyes tight and focused on the doorknob. You will shake and open, he cooed out. "I said open , damnit!" He snapped a little louder and Nick yelled at him again, jabbing a finger into his chest.
"See, you just denied me and now you’re telling me to open my legs--"
"N-N-N-No… the door, I was….using my erm….telekinetic powers to open the door." Alex stops and hangs his head, flushed with stupidity and annoyance and ( want?! Lust?! Need?! Passion?! ACHE!?!? LOVE!?!?!) something else that he can’t put his finger on and DOES NOT want to put his finger on. Because Nick is his best mate who is selfish and awkward and oozes sex like nobody’s business. And that’s bad. Oh god, Alex lips his lips. That’s so bad. "Nick….I’m just not…like you, if you know what I mean." Alex says finally, grasping the words that he’s been trying to make out in his mind. But they don’t seem as satisfying as he thought they would.
"So you’re saying if I was to kiss you…you wouldn’t like it? Wouldn’t feel anything?"
"No…" Alex looks at the wall. Walls are pretty. He likes the floral design and the little tiny copper engravings at the bottom near the sockets at the bottom of the wall…
"Not at all?"
Alex is looking at the floor now, the carpet is pretty. Pretty, pretty pretty. "Nope…"
" Not a pinch?"
Look at the ceiling! It’s so captivating, oh my, it’s so beautiful and delicate with it’s cream colors and light fixtures and such and--- OhMyBloodyFuckingGod why is Nick kissing him!? Alex cries (moans) out, shocked by the force of Nick’s lips (body, hands) against his own ( so familiar, so lovely) that he falls back against the wall fully and grasps a fistful of his shirt to push him away. Because Alexander doesn’t kiss boys. He doesn’t like that sort of thing. But Nick’s tongue is so…good. And suddenly he’s not pushing him away but bringing him closer, trying to taste more of Nick; feel him. It’s a desperate sort of cling, but Nick doesn’t seem to mind because Alex, out of ( inspiration? Confusion? Instinct?) does something with his own tongue that makes Nick gasp out, almost choking on his own spit. Sweaty fingers find tuffs of hair and curl into them gently, Nick’s fingers making gentle little circles into Alex’s scalp now, claming, reassuring, and it’s not bad, Alex thinks, shocked. It feels good. Feels bloody fucking good. Feels stellar. Astounding. Mind-boggling.
Sadly, however, they must part for air and Nick and Alex are both left breathless, staring at each other oddly, as if it was the first time that they had touched each other. It almost felt like it was; like Alex had met Nick for the first time and was instantly attracted to him, and he couldn’t control it and just dived in. Nick slid his hands down to Alex’s waist and smiled smugly, all lucky charms and smiles once again, if not a tad winded. "You were saying?"
Yeah. What was he saying? Alex opened his mouth only to close it because at the minute Bob and Paul fell on top of each other as the door flew open, embarrassed and flushed. Nick shot them a quizzical look and Alex simply leaned his head on Nick’s shoulder, still trying to catch his breath. As he closed his eyes slowly, still sort of in a haze, all confused and such, he could’ve swore he heard Bob say triumphantly "You owe me 20 quid, I told you Alex wouldn’t last for long!"
