Bedroom Warfare - Rack (boyxboy)

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"Just give him a chance, mate," Mikey pleaded. He and Rye were at Andy's place, and a certain someone hadn't been told who exactly would be there.

"No, he's an asshole." Rye glared at Jack from across the room. They'd never liked each other, he didn't understand what was going on in his friends' heads right now

"Not if you actually speak to the guy," Mikey huffed.

"Fine," he said through gritted teeth.

Mikey, Andy and Brooklyn had seemed to grasp that Rye and Jack hated each other over a year ago, but now they were trying again. Trying to make them talk, to make them like each other. Why?

---

Brooklyn leaned over to Jack, "c'mon, at least be civil with him."

"Why would i be civil? He's a dick," Jack snarled, glancing at Rye across the room, he was looking at him. He felt his fists clench as they glared at each other before Brooklyn clicked his fingers, snapping him out of it.

"Look, it's impossible for us when you two hate each other. Just please try and be civil with him," Brook said, giving Jack the puppy dog look.

Jack rolled his eyes, "fine. I'm going to get a drink."

---

Jack stood up from where he was sitting with Brooklyn and quickly headed into the hall. He sighed to himself as he spotted Andy in the kitchen and went in to speak to him.

"Go on," Mikey prompted, nudging Rye as he saw Jack exit the room.

Rye huffed, reluctantly standing up and following Jack into the kitchen as Brooklyn joined Mikey in Rye's now empty seat.

"Hey," Jack said as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard.

"Hey, buddy, you okay?" Andy asked, taking a swig of his drink.

"Yeah, Brook's bein' a bit of an ass though," he told him as he turned the cold tap on and poured himself a glass of water.

"Mikey's being an ass too," Rye said from the doorway, making Jack jump.

He turned around and frowned at Rye. Andy, however, clearly took this as a cue to leave the kitchen, and he shut the door behind them, quietly locking them in. Jack turned off the tap and sighed, "what do you want?"

"Mikey's making me talk to you," Rye mumbled, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter.

"Brook's making me talk to you," Jack nodded, "doesn't mean we actually have to."

Rye rolled his eyes, "they're not stupid, y'know?"

"That's debatable."

Rye chuckled, "good point. If they ask, we had a good talk." He turned to leave, pulling the door only for it to stay shut. He pulled it, pushed it, wiggled the handle about, but no luck. They were locked in. Shit.

"Can't you open a door?" Jack teased, reaching out to pull it open, but again the door wouldn't budge.

"Can't you open a door?" Rye mocked as Jack huffed, "they fucking locked us in."

Jack's eyes went straight to the window, then around the room to try and find the key for it.

"He's smart enough not to leave the key lying around, he knows you're stupid enough to try the window," Rye said, accepting that they were stuck.

"At least i'm trying something," Jack snapped, shoving Rye back and into the counter, "i don't know about you but you're just about the last person i wanna locked in a fucking room with!"

Rye regained his balance and glared at Jack, pushing him back so that he hit the wall, almost landing on the floor. He pulled himself up and threw himself at Rye, his hands immediately finding his throat. As Rye felt himself losing air, he swung his fist up, punching Jack in the eye with a dull thud.

Jack let go of Rye to punch him back, getting him square in the jaw. A lot of dodges were made as a lot more punches were thrown and a lot of blood seemed to drip from the two boys, though they eventually calmed down enough to stop hitting each other.

Rye brought his fingers up to his lip, flinching at the sting and looking down at the blood that dripped down his hand. Bastard, he thought to himself. He looked at his reflection in the kitchen window; a popped lip, a cut above one eye and bruised cheek under the other. That's gonna be a shiner, he thought. He glared at Jack, ready to kill him.

Jack, however, was checking the damage to his own face. As he peered into the screen of his phone, he frowned at the cut across his cheek and the bruise above it that was also sure to become a black eye pretty soon. Son of a bitch, he mumbled to himself as he took in his appearance, not noticing the bruise showing up, nor the cut, on his jaw.

Jack shoved his phone in his back pocket and stared Rye out as he wiped the blood from his lip. Rye's hand went from his bloody lip to Jack's shirt, smearing the blood over it as he pushed him into the wall, pinning him against it. They glared at each other, both ready to punch the other again, but that's not what they did. Rye grabbed Jack's wrists and pinned them to the wall either side of his head, leaning into him slightly as if he didn't know what to do. Jack soon answered his confusion by leaning forward slightly and catching Rye's lips in a kiss.

It was hot and it was rough and it was wrong, and they both knew it but they didn't seem to care. Rye pulled Jack's hands above his head and held them in place with one of his. The other scratched slow, rough, hard, down Jack's chest and stomach until it reached his jeans, earning a soft hum from him.

Rye made quick work of Jack's zipper; his belt was on the floor in no time, his pants undone and pushed down, and Rye's hand was in his boxers, causing a moan to escape from his lips.

Rye smirked as Jack's hands struggled against his, and as his hips started to buck a little. Rye moved his hand faster, causing more moans from him.

"Shut the fuck up, they'll hear you," Rye whispered, though his hand speeding up again seemed to contradict his words. But when Jack didn't do as he'd said, he smirked and their lips crashed together, muffling the sounds of his moans.

Jack's hands were soon free and he watched as Rye knelt down in front of him, he watched the smirk that played on his lips as he pulled his boxers all the way off, he watched as his mouth opened slightly and his tongue teased the tip of his dick.

Rye kept a hand firmly on the shaft, pumping slowly as his tongue swirled over the tip. Eventually, teasingly, he took the length into his mouth and started bobbing his head, his tongue finding every sensitive spot Jack had. He looked up at him through his lashes, moaning around him when he felt Jack pull at his hair, his fingers tangling in his curls as his head fell back against the wall. His free hand went to his mouth, biting his knuckles to keep himself quiet as Rye's moans sent vibrations through him and he felt himself tense up a little, and he knew he was close to his climax.

"Rye~" Jack let out in a whimper, "I-I'm- I'm gonna- fuck~"

Rye only worked faster, wanting to taste him, needing to taste him. His nails dragged down Jack's thighs as he closed his eyes, mouth moving in harmony with his hand, and it was that second that Rye realised just how desperate he was for this. At this moment, right now, he'd do anything just for a taste, and he was about to get his wish.

Jack's grip on his hair tightened and he squirmed a little, finally releasing into Rye's mouth with a moan, muffled by his hand. Rye didn't stop until he'd swallowed every last drop, licking up his cock and humming softly as he did before pulling away.

He slowly stood up once he was satisfied that Jack was done, smirking at the Irish boy as he pulled his boxers and pants back on. He grabbed his belt and just managed to buckle it up as they heard a key in the other side of the kitchen door.

It opened to reveal Andy, not at all surprised that they'd appeared to have been fighting, though he chuckled at the startled look on both of his friend's faces. Little did he know, they were the looks of 'shit, we nearly got caught.'

Jack and Rye looked at each other and silently agreed that nobody would ever find out about what they'd just done, and they followed Andy back into the living room, trying to act normal.