What if Jack had also been Jamie’s creation?
More tension to stick in the trick bag and just dunk my head in, holding my hair, nails teasing the back of my skin.
It was as of Jamie was the Willy Wonka behind the Willy Wonka. As if I was being led and fed with candy from the hands of a man who was another man.
It always amused me how sometimes Jamie would sit after recording on the sofa and just stare at me in silence, focused, not moving, breathing harder, most likely battling the imagery in head and knowing that despite what he wants, I won’t just go over and unzip his jeans prior to going on top of him and saying how hard he is.
He is hard indeed. Once I just pressed my head against his neck and he said nothing. He just looked at me and kept his mouth away, his lips opened and his tongue seen slightly. I opened my own mouth and I wanted to go on top, I wanted him to kiss my chest and just raise the t-shirt above us and he’d stare at my body.
He’d go inside, not taking the jeans off, still nervous off a barrier and he’d thrust inside me. I’d moan.
And I look at Jack with his curly hair taking a pint and getting it down. I hesitate with my own and just stare at his.
It seems to quiet with all the noises and Jack’s hat seems to give away to much, but he doesn’t mind it sitting, maybe we’re not that famous after all, you just sit and not get anything a day no matter what happens and you can drink pint after pint.
I just light a cigarette to just tear off my nervousness and I glance at the bartender and he has Jamie’s hair cut and his tired look after a long day, so I watch him give Jack another drink.
“Did you.” He clears his throat, plays with his hat and asks me for a cigarette. I light it. “Ever have something with Jamie?”
I close my eyes. I open my eyes. I smile. Smile. Nod, wave.
“N-no. I thought both of you talked.” About me. I could’ve added, but instead I take a longer drag feeling the taste stick to my tongue, but it’s fine, I’m not kissing anyone and those who I kiss also have this glue on their mouths. Jack shrugs.
“Yeah. Just wanted to know your opinion.” And he breaths out the smoke fast, his fingers brushing the glass and he coughs slightly. I throw an arm around him and he leans closer to me. I look at his eyes and once you age boys don’t just have the dumb look in their eyes before your lips meet. Jack does.
It is dumb, but there’s something naive in it as if We’re Gonna Be Friends is going in his head as he sees me scattered on his bed in a pond of our fluids and I move my hands through the water as he barely breaths from thrusting and fuck, it’s good, and I put my hands on my legs.
I take out my tongue.
He grabs my head and pulls me into that kiss.
He tastes like I do.
I get my hand in his hair as his hands replace my own.
And travel up my legs to find the zipper to just tug it playfully.
He goes to my neck and sucks on it slightly. I take off his hat and I know that we can collapse onto the floor and the rugs scattered can cover us, so that the feet of the walking people won’t really bother us.
“I want you.” He says and leans back, the gaze softer, more intense and burning as I brush the front of his legs and hit his button with a nail.
I look to see the Jamie bartender watching so I keep my eyes open and I stick my tongue inside.
I rub the inside of Jack’s shirt, laughing a bit and feeling Jamie take me by the shoulders and yank me up.
And I see him, shorter than me, wrinkles slightly showing and I laugh and Jack covers his eyes, to hide the friends with candy intensions and smiles, maybe knowing.
“Jamie will never go for you.” To which Hince just stares at both of us. I cover my mouth with my hand to hide the shock from puking out and I just stroke Jamie’s hair and I take off my shirt, exposing my shirt, no bra and I wait for him to touch to which he just strokes a nipple and takes his hand off and turns around jumping twice.
I think I am on the floor with the liquids being alcohol.
“Jamie will never go for you.” And Jack would thrust in, but he holds, tracing his fingers on my back, nearly digging them in like his fighting cock with the zipper and eager to get any hole around.
So I go on my knees, crying.
I stand up.
I don’t take his cock in my mouth instead I press him against the wall, holding his shoulders and his cock eagerly searching for my vagina, so I let that organ touch with the layers of fabric.
I wonder how hard would it be to choke a man and how would Jamie look and how he would visit me as I would look orange and maybe then he would kiss me or even have sex fast as he would go inside me again and I would keep shiver, crying, shaking that this way be the only time.
I think after every time he touched me I always cried besides out first when he fell asleep in his sweater and boxers around one leg and I touched his nipple, his chest and he would open his eyes from while to while to grin a hello and then pull me towards him.
“I love you, Alison.” He’d say and we would just turn around.
“I love you, Alison.” Was what he said yesterday.
And what I had washed off with whisky.
“And what I had washed off with whisky.” And I throw the pint near Jack’s head and he ducks his curls, the glass breaking into his hat and he just takes my head and knocks it against the wall, it’s not harmful but it aches and I scream taking his hair and crying.
Jamie loves me.
And I cry.
And Jack just takes me out and holds me as I cry into his hat with glasses and I take a piece and it sticks to my mouth and I think I’m bleeding.
“But I think he loves me.” I cry and I see the shorter man patting my head and walking off as Jack would just go inside and fill me up for a bit.
He drags me out and we go in a pharmacy. I watch him go to the counter, look around as I sit on one of the chairs for older people and I just count the amount of red boxes I see everywhere as I sit up to curl into a ball and chant my love’s name all over, as I see Jack ask for red condoms.
“I’m on the pill.” I croak and I cry harder. “Fucking fill m-me up!” And I scream and the assistant suggests some pills and Jack says that I’m on alcohol so I don’t know if I get medication of not. All I want is liquid to be everywhere so I wonder if we should shag as he pours hot water from the kettle so that I wouldn’t be able to distinguish who is touching me Jack or Jamie and please, please on my eyes, so whoever I see will be Jamie.
And my mouth, the insides so that when I kiss Jack I know it will be Jamie and the vagina, the insides, split my body in the middle, rip it open and pour the water in so that anything I will love with be Jamie and I will be breathing his carbon dioxide.
And I keep crying as Jack leaves me on the bed and takes a shot, discarding his clothes. I think he starts crying as well, watching me write Jamie’s name with pillows and he tells me he won’t ever love me and I scream that he said I love you.
“Me! HE MEANT ME!” And I cry to which Jack just goes in the bed and put my head on his lap, then takes me under the armpits as if I am a teddy bear and my nose is against his, he kisses me, holds the lips together.
“I love you.” And he stretches the I, making sure that I know it’s him and he tucks me in against his body and turns on television and we watch Gossip Girl for a bit, just because he knows I like it and I smile at all of them having their drama and I sob a bit as Jack feels bored and even falls asleep before the break, but still firmly holding me in his arms.
As he falls on the bed, I want to stand up and stare at my own face as a reflection, but he holds me, slightly holding his eyes open and pulling me into a kiss which makes him shake out of fear that we might not be friends, so I just go back and the covers wrap us around like our little ship to sleep.
He takes the hair off my eyes.
“I love you.” I say. Quiet. And he nods, kissing my forehead and he goes on his back, undoing his jeans with my hands, maybe he is controlling me, maybe Jamie is filming this with a camera and doing polaroids to wank to, to hang around his room and laugh at both of us, drinking whine.
So I cry and I take off Jack’s clothes to which he strokes my now naked body above and I tell him I love him again.
He is bigger than Jamie.
I go on up and down, my hair in the way and Jack holds the hair until he shifts and I’m on the bottom and I look up, even terrified that Jack White is fucking me, in and out, so I feel like a ghost, I pretend that I am a ghost and Jack strokes my body, leans closer to ask how to please me to which he touches my clit, licks my breasts and I just look up.
“What do you like?” I ask him with a small smile.
Jamie doesn’t matter.
Jack fills me in as I scream and Jack gets a boner from that as well, as we keep shifting from top to bottom as the liquid doesn’t even have enough time to flow, but it’s there, filling me up and I wonder if we’ll have a kid and Jack grins at me as I am on top or if he is on top.
It doesn’t matter.
Jamie doesn’t matter.
Fills me in.
Fills me in.
Here is the Jack/Alison as requested which is more of a triangle in the end.
I had the idea of taking that rumored fight they had, didn't end up much of a fight, no?
The title was the struggle as I am sleepy and I forgot the initial idea and after some fiddling, here's the first line of The Dead Weather's I Cut Like A Buffalo.
I hope you enjoyed it!
5th February 2012