rockabillyboy | (no subject)

"What would your dad say if he saw you with someone like me?" He kisses Jack again, deeper this time.

"Well," says Jack, content to just lean here for a moment, idly making out. "First, I think we'd be having a frank conversation about the fact that you're a dude, because...while I don't think he'd hate it, it'd be something we'd need to discuss." He rolls his eyes. "Probably at length."

"C'mon, he's the mayor of San Francisco, gay capital of America, right?" He grins. "Your dad could discuss whatever he wants. I'd totally participate."

"Are you going full femme for this discussion?" asks Jack, smirking, pressing a kiss to the point of Poison's chin before he pushes away from the wall, taking Poison's full weight again. "I think you'd scare the shit out of him. My dad doesn't like anything he can't predict."

"Depends on what would piss your dad off more," he quips. He tightens his legs around Jack's waist again when they move from the wall. "Really? Shit, I'd give him a stroke."

"He's got a kid he doesn't talk about in public," points out Jack, blushing a little when Poison's thighs tighten around his waist. "Oh, yeah, he'd hate you. Especially if you turned up in eyeliner."

"Eyeliner, lipstick, the whole nine." He grins and kisses Jack again. "I'd look so fuckin hot he wouldn't know whether to be mad at you or proud of you."

"He'd disown me but it'd totally be worth it."

In the bedroom, Jack sinks down onto the edge of the bed with his arms still wrapped around Poison, settling him into his lap.

"I'd make it up to you, baby," he coos. Poison moves so that he's on his knees once they're on the bed together, so he can hold up some of his own weight... though obviously Jack doesn't have a problem with it.

"I bet you would."

One arm still curled around Poison's face, Jack takes hold of his jaw, guiding him into a deep, hungry kiss. It's possessive. Jack feels like that's okay.

It's totally okay. Poison moans into the kiss, pressing as close as he can to Jack as they try to devour each other. His hands slide so he can curl his fingers in Jack's hair, clinging to him.

He keeps that tight hold on Poison, his jaw, his waist, as they kiss, as they press closer. Poison's t-shirt is between them and Jack shoves his hand up the back of it so that he can feel skin on skin.

He feels like he might bruise, and Poison is so okay with it. He slides his arm around Jack's neck, trying to keep as close as he can. He gets goosebumps when Jack's hand presses to his back, forcing his shirt up. He wants to take it off but he also doesn't want to break the kiss.

Jack nips at Poison's lip and then he pulls back, taking his hands away from him, but only long enough to knot his fingers in the hem of his t-shirt and drag it up and off.

"Better," he says, dragging Poison back in for another kiss.

"Better," he agrees, pressing close. He's getting hard - it probably started out in the hall, when Jack pressed him into the wall. The kind of rough making out doesn't hurt either.

Jack's aware of the press of Poison's cock against his belly when they push in close but he's also got no intention of dealing with anything yet. It feels too good to have Poison's weight across his lap like this, his grip on Poison's jaw crushing their mouths together. He shoves one hand down the back of Poison's shorts, squeezing his ass.

Poison pushes back towards Jack's had, then forward against his stomach, and it feels good to be right where he is, making out without feeling any way to escape.

Without feeling the need to. He bites Jack's lip, then sucks on it.

The bite makes Jack moan and he leans into the kiss, even more than before. His hands drops and he slaps Poison's ass.

Poison jumps, rubbing his cock up against Jack's stomach. The thin layer of fabric between them is more a tease than a barrier. He tips his head back to breathe. "You're getting good at this.

Jack bites his lip over a grin, head tilted back to look up at Poison, one eyebrow raised as Poison squirms against him. He remembers what Poison said about liking fabric against his skin.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, quieter as he leans in for another kiss, pulling Jack to meet him. It's really good, and he wants more.

Jack feels a little giddy with the encouragement. He presses his other hand down inside Poison's underwear, gripping his ass with both palms down, squeezing, pulling him in tighter as they kiss.

Poison starts to just... rock in Jack's grip. He rolls his hips forward, slow but rhythmic, to rub against Jack's stomach and to feel the grip of his hands shift as muscle flexes. He tries to not stop kissing him, but he needs to breathe.

"You're not going to come like this, are you?" asks Jack, tipping Poison's chin back so that he can smudge kisses along his jaw, into the hollow of his throat. "You don't want it like that."

"I could," he admits, moving his head so Jack can kiss wherever he want. His fingers tangle loosely in Jack's hair, just holding onto him. "How should I want to come?"