the reluctant lobotomist (fourfreedoms) wrote,
the reluctant lobotomist

Fic: Life, Liberty, and The Pursuit of Orgasms

Title: Life, Liberty, and The Pursuit of Orgasms
Author: fourfreedoms, formerly dark_reaction
Fandom: Generation Kill RPS
Pairing: Alex/Stark
Word Count: 2,634 words
Rating: R
Summary: Written for the prompt of Seven Minutes in Heaven on the Kink Meme.
Notes: De-annoning from the kink meme because I promised people who knew it was me more in the NOW WITH ORGASMS edition.

Today was a very good day. He looked down at the chipped black polish on the fingers gripping his hips and then grinned. A very good day. See, Alex had tried to land a suckjob from Aimee Walsingham, CHS’s resident goth and poetry club president, for the better part of February, and just when he’d utterly given up, she’d pushed him into the janitor’s closet between periods and tugged his fly right down. It was unexpected. And awesome, definitely awesome. Even though she drooled too much and kept slurping it back into her mouth.

He smiled and sighed, slumping back against the wall.

She pulled off and he opened his eyes to look down at her. “Is it good?” she said, breathlessly.

He grinned. Wouldn’t do to tell her there was no such thing as a bad blowjob. “It is…excellent,” he replied, guiding her mouth back down. He stroked his fingers through her hair. Pretty amateurish head, but she was going for it with verve, so that counted for something. He never stuck around long enough for them to get better at it.

He looked down at her dark wine-colored lips descending down over his dick and said, “I’m going to come.”

She didn’t pull off and got a faceful of jizz that almost made him laugh. She coughed and rocked back on her knees. He shook his head and tucked himself back inside his pants. The base of his spine was tingling a little and his breath was still a bit fast, but nothing that wouldn’t look like he’d been jogging down the halls.

Aimee wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and then said, “So I was wondering if you would join the poetry club?”

Alex blinked at her. “I…don’t think so.” He shrugged. She stared at him, lips still swollen angry red. “Right, so I’ll give you a few minutes.”

And then he stepped right back out of the janitor’s closet again. He was going to be ten minutes late to English. But it was fine. Ms. Moyer wanted to suck his dick also after that last paper he’d written on the parallels between I, Claudius and Crime and Punishment. Which really was the most preposterous bullshit paper he could come up with, but hey, earned him an A.

He rubbed his hands on his jeans and looked up, realizing he had an audience.

Stark Sands was a really big pothead. Alex wasn’t sure how they were in the same grade, because Stark was pretty much always out on the path, smoking up. He was a total stereotype down to his converse and flannel and the stupid acoustic guitar he always carried around.

He was leaning against the locker bank, and sucking hard at the straw of a big gulp, staring right through Alex. He blinked for a second. Those glazed green eyes brightening like everything was coming into focus and then he shook his head with a knowing smile. Alex raised an eyebrow and walked off to class. He didn’t wince when he heard the janitor’s closet open a second time. So what if Stark knew he’d gotten blown between B and C periods. The entire world should know as a testament to his powers of persuasion.


Alex was good at exactly three things in life: English class, getting laid, and soccer. Soccer and English class were both talents he could attribute to his parents, but getting laid was all his own. Which didn't explain why his incredibly marketable talent was failing him tonight at the annual track team bash. Sherry S, not to be confused with Sherry A who had a mouth guard and a constant runny nose besides, was on a bi, or as she phrased it "flexisexual," kick. He'd been hooking up with her off and on and she was by far the most talented fuck he'd had at CHS. The problem with high school girls is that they had a very 'lie back and think of all the ways I can text this to my friends when it’s over' approach. Sherry S was as uninhibited as they came and her possible lesbionic tendencies, while intriguing, were also fucking up his game.

He couldn't be bothered to put effort into the other girls at the party. He'd either been there, done that, possibly even twice, or they were no-man’s-land. Maybe that made him a dick, but at least he was fully aware of that fact. Picasso didn't go around painting just anybody. Likewise, Alex had an art, and there were some people who just wouldn't have the ability to appreciate it.

Sherry S appeared at his elbow with a bright pink jell-o shot. "Have you reconsidered your sapphic ways?" he asked.

"Nope," she replied brightly. She pointed at a girl he didn't know with blonde curls that he would probably hit if she didn't look so frighteningly wholesome. She caught his gaze and glared. Hmm, that level of animosity directed his way, had he fucked her already then? "I got a lock on that one."

"Need a man to make the lesbian orgy a little less overtly lesbian?"

She laughed. "You wish."

"What then?"

"Okay, so I don't got a lock. I'm trying to start up a game of seven minutes in heaven."

"You're kidding," he said, face pulling into a frown.


"I would just like to point out that nobody in this room is in middle school," he said and looked around quickly. "Well, if they are, we better hope nobody calls the cops."

"Be a pal," she said, forking out the jell-o shot with a finger and gulping it down in a way that should not be sexy, but was nevertheless, as a testament to Sherry S's sexual superpowers.

"We are not strictly...pals," he pointed out.

"Fuck buddies then," she said around her two fingers, tongue swirling around them enticingly.

He stared at her for a long moment with an arched brow and then sighed. "Fine, but next time I want anal."

She huffed but agreed. "I just have to make sure I end up in the closet with her and we'll all be good." She jumped up on a chair and said, "Alex wants to play seven minutes in heaven, who's in?"

He groaned at the way all the girls in the room sprang to attention even over the loud blare of the stereo.


Which at no point explained how he wound up in the closet having a homosexual experience of his own.

"You're not a girl," said the broad obviously man-shaped thing that walked into the closet.

"Very astute," Alex replied and crossed his arms. "I hate Sherry S."

"How can you hate Sherry S when she does that tongue thing?"

"Mmm," Alex nodded in the darkness, thinking back fondly. "Wait a minute, who are you?"

"It's me, Stark," the man-shaped thing said, offering a hand.

Alex blinked at the darkness, trying to make out the tell-tale sign of plaid. "What? How are you even here?"

"I'm on the track team?" Stark replied, dropping his hand.

"This is unbelievable, don't they drug test athletes?" It was also unbelievable that Stark had been all up in Sherry S’s business. He’d always figured Stark was too stoned to know what his no-no parts were for.

"Eh, my friend Rudy provides me with the pee I need."

"I wonder at my life and the direction that it has taken, discussing urine in a closet with a stoner."

"Mmhmm," Stark replied and leaned back against the other wall.

"Why did you come in here, if you knew it was me?" Alex asked.

"I didn't know it was you. Sherry S organized the whole thing." Alex heard him shrug. "I guess she got mixed up."

Alex raised a brow even though nobody could see it. He highly doubted Sherry got mixed up. "How long have we been in here?"

Stark fumbled around and then his watch-face lit up, illuminating his face in a blue glow. "Thirty seconds."

"Lovely," he replied dryly. "Let's get on with it then."


"Look, I have never lost at this game--"

"I don't really think you can lose at seven minutes in heaven."

"Shut up. Sherry S is trying to tell me that she thinks I'm not secure enough in my heterosexuality to be locked in a closet with you. But I am very secure in my sexuality, ergo we need to make out so I can prove it to her."

"Don't take this the wrong way, man, but I'm kinda not into it."

"I really don't give a fuck."

Stark sighed. "Can I imagine you're Jessica Simpson?"

"Jessica Simpson? Really? You need higher standards--" He cut himself off when Stark reached up and cupped his chin.

"You're ruining the illusion. Jessica Simpson doesn't know two syllable words." He laughed and then brushed his lips across Alex's mouth.

Stark's mouth was cool and he tasted like Sherry S's Jell-o shots. His fingers curled around the back of Alex's neck like he was searching for long hair and Alex was impressed at how into the illusion he was getting. Alex himself wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands. He couldn't also pretend Stark was Jessica Simpson that would be far too meta and weird. Liv Tyler was tall, or maybe Rebecca Romijn. He would totally fuck Rebecca Romijn silly.

He drew his hands down Stark's back imagining delicate shoulder blades, tapering off into a gently flared ass--"Holy Crap! You have an amazing ass," he said, pulling his mouth away somewhat breathlessly.

He felt rather than heard Stark's laugh rumble through his chest. "Thanks, Jessica."

He made a face and bent down to kiss him again, capturing Stark’s lower lip between his teeth and laving it over and over again with his tongue. Stark made a sound and his hips jerked against Alex's and really, at what point had he been fooling himself that this was Rebecca Romijn?

"Jesus Christ," he said, as Stark's thumb pushed into the sensitive space behind his ear and forcibly turned his head to make his neck easier to access. Stark kissed down his neck, tonguing along his collarbone and into the hollow of his throat. Alex was still kneading and rubbing at Stark's ass, trying very hard to ignore the fact that he was pushing Stark's half-hard dick against his own.

"I think maybe Sherry S was right about your heterosexuality," Stark said, mouth at Alex's ear.

Alex shuddered as Stark bit down on the soft flesh, struggling to say, "What do you know? You're high all the time."

Stark laughed and reconnected their mouths. It was all tongue, sensuous and sloppy, breaths mingling when they were too lazy to part. Alex worked a hand down the back of his jeans, fingertips dipping around the curve of his ass and into the cleft. And that was a little weird, not finding slick wetness there just perineum, but, "God, your ass is amazing."

Stark was thrusting into Alex in earnest now and Alex was definitely hard. "Better not...drop the soap around you," he said, nipping over Alex's collarbone.

And then the door was flying open and they were too slow to separate. He thought about it, but he was really far more interested in the way Stark groaned in disappointment, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

"Are seven minutes up?" he asked an obviously self-satisfied Sherry S.

Sherry S grinned. "I knew it."

"Tell me you weren't lying about being a lesbian?" he said, wondering if she would mind if he sort of rubbed himself off on Stark's thigh. Probably not actually. Salacious harlot.

She made a face and gave a noncommittal shrug. "Eh, that was last week. It's not for me."

"I hate you," he sighed. Stark shifted against him and the answer didn't come out quite as firm as expected.

"Alex, has possible exhibitionist tendencies, to be explored further at a later juncture," she said.

Stark leaned around him. "Look, I don't know what twisted game you're playing, but can you just shut the fucking door?"

"Ja vol, Herr Kommandant." The door closed.

Alex looked down at Stark. "Hmm, feisty, I li--"

"No words, Jessica, no words," Stark replied and swallowed any protests Alex might've had with his mouth. He worked Alex’s jeans open, but before he could wrap a hand around Alex’s dick, Alex was thrusting him into the opposite wall, pinning him there with his body.

Stark groaned. “I think I got one of those little toggle thingies on a peacoat to the kidney.”

“Shut up, and let the record show that I’m just doing this in the pursuit of orgasms.”

“Whatever you want, Princess,” Stark replied lazily. He let out a bit-off moan when Alex got his jeans open and got both their dicks in hand, rubbing them together and flicking his thumb back and forth over the heads.

“I’m quite serious, I hate blue balls,” Alex replied, trying to keep his voice even.

He couldn’t really see, but he felt Stark rolling his eyes at him in the dark. Stark pulled him in for another kiss and Alex couldn’t help grunting into his mouth as he fucked into his own fist spread wide around both their cocks. It was awkward and frustrating and Alex really wished Stark had a pussy—it would be so much easier. But Jesus he was so turned on he was trembling. Stark tore his mouth away to bury his face in Alex’s shoulder.

“God…god…god,” Stark said, breaths huffing out of him like he was running a race. He wrapped a fist around Alex’s, tightening his grip until Alex shuddered against him. “Are you sure you don’t want to explore this at a later juncture?”

“I don’t—fuck—maybe,” Alex replied, squeezing his eyes shut tight. He came first, hands coming up on either side of Stark’s body to brace himself against the wall. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have fallen over and falling over in a closet was not on his list of ‘cool things I did today.’

Frottage in a closet with Stoner Stark hadn’t been on the list either, so maybe it was time to amend the list.

“Just a little bit…” Stark breathed and relaxed against the wall, a hot gush of fluid coating Alex’s already come-sticky fingers, “…more.”

“How much do you think Steiner’s parents will freak out if I wipe my hand on his mom’s coat?” Alex asked, eying the shape he thought was a woman’s coat clinically.

“A lot,” Stark replied shortly. He lazed against the wall. “So like…my parents aren’t home. I was planning to smoke a bowl or two, but…”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of your drug habit.” Alex grimaced and went ahead and wiped his hand on the coat, Steiner’s mom bedamned. He opened the closet door and stepped out, looking back over his shoulder. “I have this thing where I really like to come, and I’m far too lazy—”

Stark pushed past him. “Okay, Jessica, my house is 812 Anglebrook Drive, meet you there in fifteen?” He didn’t wait for a response before heading towards the front door. Alex may or may not have stared at his ass the entire way, but you’d have to water board him to get him to admit it.

Sherry S exited the kitchen into the hall with a whole tray of jell-o shots. “What are you, the cockblock fairy?” Alex asked darkly and took one.

She shot him a look. “I am blocking no cocks. If anything you are blocking your own cock.”

Alex asked, “Do you think he’s sober enough not to crash his car on the way back to his own home?”

“You care about somebody, how sweet!”

“Please, I’m not getting off a second time tonight if he’s wrapped around a tree.”

Somebody just pointed out to me that this pairing is technically ASSS, how did I never notice that before?
Tags: alex/stark, fic
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