Roadtrip Gay One Shots

Tequila - Jacklyn (!!)

Just a fair warning:

This story is all over the place and its a whole lot of words with out really saying much.

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It was one of their last nights in America and the boys wanted to go out with a bang. They rented a hotel room for each of them in Las Vegas and started drinking straight away. While Mikey and Rye sipped on some cheap beer from the gas station they stopped at earlier, Andy ordered himself some fancy cocktails at the bar down stairs to be sent up to the room. Brook and Jack, on the other hand, wanted to forget their first names. They grabbed the biggest bottle of tequila they could get their hands on and started taking shots.

There was no particular reason why the boys decided to do this, but that's how the evening started out. All the guys getting completely plastered while they got ready to go out. They wanted to party, dance, get laid, and just simply have fun. They feel like they have worked so hard to be where they are now so why not be able to enjoy life a little before they start back up working again once they are back home.

"Ah shit man," Andy grumbled looking at his phone. Him, Rye, and Mikey are chilling in Andy's room getting ready for the night.

"Wha?" Rye slurred looking up from his half empty bottle. He thinks it's his sixth beer, maybe his seventh? He doesn't really know, but as long as Mikey was more sober than everybody else, he felt safe.

"I f'got tha ya gotta be 21 ta go in da bars here," Andy mumbled. His accent was so heavy that even he giggled at his own voice. "Woah, I sound weird," he laughed before coughing a little then taking a sip from his fruity drink.

"So?" Mikey mumbled from somewhere in the room that Andy couldn't see.

"So, that means, Jack n' Brook can't go with us," Andy explains further before placing his forehead in his  hand tugging the edges of his hair just a little bit, "what we gonna do?"

Rye laughed, "mate, don't stress, we'll just leave 'em here, they're probs shit faced any way."

"Yeah," Mikey agreed, "the last thing I want to do is take care of four idiots, I hardly want to take care of you guys."

"'M not that drunk," Andy slurred causing all his words to jumble together. He looked over to Rye, "ami that drunk?" Rye doesn't even have to say anything and Andy knew the answer. "Oh fucking well," he giggled, "you're babysitting tonight Mikey."

"Figured," Mikey mumbled before locking his phone.

Meanwhile, in Jack's room, Brook and Jack were heavily making out on top of the bed. Jack on top with Brook's legs wrapped around the taller boy's waist. The tequila jug was long forgotten on the hotel floor. The only noise you could hear were the soft moans coming from Brooklyn's lips and the slight creaking of the bed coming from the rugged movement of the best friends.

Their lips part with a thin string of spit still connecting them until Brook throws his head back. "Uh, fuck Jack," he moaned out as the Irish lad grinded his hips against his. Jack laced his fingers through Brook's curly locks before attaching his lips to Brook's neck. The feeling completely over whelming the other boy to the point that his moans are now just gasps of air.

"So fuckin' hot," Jack smirked before he unbuttoned two of the buttons from Brook's shirt, exposing his collar bone. The Irish boy does not hesitate before he attached his mouth to one of the places that makes Brook squirm the most.

The blond ran his fingers through Jack's hair as he lets out a shaky breath while Jack worked his filthy magic against Brook's tan skin. "Good luck getting a lass after they notice that," Jack cheekily mumbled against Brooklyn's warm, newly bruised skin.