Jack Vincent (
rockabillyboy) wrote2016-04-26 08:25 pm
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Kick-start my rockin', rollin' heart
For the last couple of weeks, he's been spending a lot of time with Poison, getting used to having him around, in his space. He's been nursing something, a warm and liquid knot behind his ribs. He's not examined it too closely. He definitely hasn't said anything to Poison about it. Sometimes, he finds himself flustered, but he pushes it down, ignores it and, eventually, it passes.
Sort of.
They'd arranged to go out and test drive the I.D that Kavinsky had made for him. Poison wanted to go dancing and Jack can get into clubs now, so...why not, right?
So he's standing on a corner, just down from the club, waiting for Poison to show. He hadn't, entirely, been sure what to wear for something like this, so he's there in black t-shirt and jeans, one of his more fitted leather jackets, boots. He's got product in his hair. Double row of eyelashes give the effect of eyeliner.
It's weird, maybe, but...he's actually kind of nervous.
Sort of.
They'd arranged to go out and test drive the I.D that Kavinsky had made for him. Poison wanted to go dancing and Jack can get into clubs now, so...why not, right?
So he's standing on a corner, just down from the club, waiting for Poison to show. He hadn't, entirely, been sure what to wear for something like this, so he's there in black t-shirt and jeans, one of his more fitted leather jackets, boots. He's got product in his hair. Double row of eyelashes give the effect of eyeliner.
It's weird, maybe, but...he's actually kind of nervous.
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Because he's totally not interested in housewives, and he wonders how obvious that is. Maybe it's not as obvious as he thinks it is. Maybe.
Jesus. Why was this easier when it was Bex.
"Keep your hero fantasies to yourself, man."
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It's easy to be flippant about it when he's feeling high on the press of people and already swaying to the beat of whatever's playing.
When he's done with his water he looks at Jack and grins.
"Then let's dance motherfucker. Or are you gonna put that ID to further use?"
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He hasn't seen Poison like this before, hectic and alive with energy that somehow feels electric. He's already moving to the music and Jack feels like that's going to be infectious.
He glances at the bar, shakes his head. Not drinking feels like a habit that's going to stick.
On impulse, he offers Poison his hand.
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He's sure that Jack is gonna get noticed, a prime target, even. He's young and good looking and Poison maybe feels a tiny bit protective.
And maybe he also wants to see if Jack ever does actually let loose. Being Zen doesn't count.
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He tries not to focus on the press of Poison's hand in his, tries to focus more on the press of bodies around him, the strobing lights. His shirt is made of thin stuff and, already it's starting to stick across his shoulders.
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Or maybe that's how he dances and he never paid attention.
And okay, maybe he peeks at Jack, because he's curious.
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Jack finds the rhythm easily enough, hands in the air, one pushing into his hair as he moves. It's mostly hips too, but that's because it's the only way he knows how to dance.
And, yes, he watches Poison dance. Because Poison dancing? Is kind of beautiful.
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And alright, he notices someone else noticing Jack. He moves closer and casually drapes his arms over Jack's shoulders. "Someone's checking you out," he quips. "Should I run defense or back off?"
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Poison's a little shorter than he is, so Jack has to look down. Poison's arms slip around his neck and Jack feels his face immediately go hot. He glances over his shoulder in the direction that Poison's looking and then, without saying anything, he slips his arm around Poison's waist and tugs him a little closer.
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He has an actual rabbit in headlights moment, freezes with his arm wrapped around Poison, hips grazing as they dance. He ducks his head.
"Shit."
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He looks up, meets Poison's eyes and after a long moment, shakes his head. He wasn't sure it was possible for his face to feel this hot. Somehow, this had been easier with Bex.
He slips his other arm around Poison, hand grazing up, following the line of his spine cautiously.
"You're not reading it wrong."
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Guy crush. Jack almost winces because it sounds so...dismissive. He nods, though, leaves his hands where they are because, so far, Poison hasn't tried to push him away.
"Something like that."
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And it's hard to think about being a good... whatever he is... when Jack's fingers are tracing up his back.
"Something like that?" he prompts. He doesn't want to put words in Jack's mouth.
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"First one I've..." But what are they even doing? Poison's just running interference. Defence. "Close enough."
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"I mean, I'm kinda femme huh?" A little, sometimes. He walks the line and he's okay with that.
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Jack shakes his head.
"Been this close to," he says. There's still a sliver of distance between their bodies but it's barely there at all. He frowns. "You think that's why?"
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He's heard some guys say - about him, about others - that it's easier to go for a guy that's more femme, the first time. If they're going to experiment. Poison doesn't think it's true across the board, but he doesn't know.
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Someone nudges against Jack from behind, which makes it easier to close that last little bit of space between them, pressing himself against Poison from thigh to chest. He shakes his head, eyes darting, down to his mouth, back again.
"It's not that," he says. "We've...been spending a lot of them together. And I really...it's great. And I keep thinking."
Oh god. He can't stop thinking.
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"Keep thinking what?" Poison knows he's probably pushing some buttons. But on the one hand, it's kind of fun. On the other, he really does want to know.
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He pauses for just a second, intensely aware of everyone around them, of the press of bodies, the throb of the music. He licks his lips.
Fuck it.
He leans in, ducks his head to kiss Poison, soft and sweet.
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Maybe cool isn't the word because the kiss makes him feel anything but. He's not used to kissing someone this fucking tall, for one, he ends up craning a bit, leaning up on the balls of his feet. His hands slide down, gripping Jack's shirt for balance, or maybe to keep him close, and Poison meets the kiss with a slick and easy response.
He's never been good at sweet.
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And it's so easy to let the kiss slip deeper, pushing forward into it, his arm tightening around Poison's waist, keeping him pulled in close, leaning down into him as they kiss. His other hand skims up Poison's back again, fingertips just hooking over the neck of Poison's t-shirt, tugging slightly.
God, it feels amazing.
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