oneshots: legacy edition (jalex)

Memories That Fade Like Photographs (Or Whatever All Time Low Said)

This tour has been a dream come true. After an amazing set, and Avril Lavigne's blunt observations, Jack and Alex had been forced to talk feelings on night one.

Then also nights two, three, and four.

Honestly Avril is the whole reason Jalex became a reality.
Again.

But 2007 is so long ago, it barely matters.

The last set they played had been an outdoor arena. It's been ages since All Time Low played a show this big, and Alex only missed the fans, not the sun.
At least with festivals he can emotionally prepare himself, but he only half knows what each venue on the tour is going to look like until they get there.

Today was no exception, and Alex had ended up in a baseball hat and sunglasses along with his usual t-shirt and skinny jeans.
The set itself went well, but the whole band is exhausted. They'd barely muttered brief 'good nights' before heading up to each of their hotel rooms.

It took Jack maybe all of three minutes to sneak off to Alex's once everyone was gone. They were drinking together moments later, talking and laughing, even taking awful pictures that would likely never see the light of day.

There's a weird nostalgia to the both of them being together like this, like the years between '07 and now never happened.
Somehow they'd picked up right where they left off, though Alex couldn't tell you if they'd ever left each other to begin with.

Sure, maybe he and Jack are both blond now, and maybe Jack's ditched the emo fringe and embraced the Los Angeles look, but somehow, someway, they're still two kids from two vastly different parts of the world, who both ended up in Baltimore.

"C'mere," Jack murmurs, pulling Alex in close, holding up his cell phone with the front facing camera open.

Alex makes a stupid face, still wearing the sunglasses and hat he'd worn during the set. Jack just smiles like he's waited his entire life for this moment.

They both laugh at the photo for a moment. It's cute and awful at the same time, and it's definitely going on Jack's Instagram.

Jack sets his phone down, then reaches for the hat Alex doesn't need anymore.
"You trying to get me undressed, Barakat?" Alex laughs when Jack tosses the hat aside and kisses him seconds later.

His lips are soft against Alex's, though stubble scratches Alex's skin. They fall into each other easily. It's been over a decade since they've done this together, but somehow it still feels familiar.

"Wait." Alex pulls away, reaching into his pocket for his phone, then remembering the sunglasses he still hasn't thrown aside. He tosses them, then opens his camera, pulling Jack into another kiss for the photo.

"Are we posting that?" The nerves are far too obvious in Jack's voice, though Alex definitely shares the same sentiment.

He turns to his phone screen, laughing when he sees he's accidentally started a video. "No,  I don't think the internet needs a whole video of us making out."
Jack actually scoffs. "That barely counts as a makeout session."
"That's not what the internet thinks."

They're both laughing now, but the camera's still rolling. Jack's also just as insistent that making out needs to happen.

"For the internet," he jokes, knowing damn well it'll never leave Alex's photo library.

Jack sets up the camera properly on the coffee table, as best as he can at least.

Then he's kissing Alex again, all teeth and tongues this time.

After the band had caught them however many years ago, Jack and Alex just hadn't pursued anything else with each other. It didn't seem worth the fate of their career.