rockabillyboy | (no subject)

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party poison

(no subject)

Nothing is coming together.

Jack's been working pretty frantically on his portfolio for the last week. He's got lots of pieces mostly done, but nothing done enough to submit. The deadline is looming. He's pinned all of his hopes on getting into art school, starting in the Fall. Mentally, he doesn't really feel prepared to submit anything, though, and that leads to a manic level of work. He's been peripherally aware of Poison all day, hovering in his space, asking him if he wants to do something else for an hour or so.

He's being an asshole, he knows. He can't help it.

"Shit, boo," he says, worrying his lip with his teeth. "I just want to get this piece done, okay?"

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Poison grins. "Yeah? This mean you'll sulk at me if I grow it all out? Or cut it all?"

"I mean, it's your hair," says Jack, rolling one shoulder in a shrug. "You can do what you like with it but I? Would kind of miss this, yes."

It's as close as he's going to come to expressing a preference.

Poison laughs and shakes his head a bit. "We'll see. It'll probably stay this way unless something fucked up happens to it."

"Which, with this place being what it is, is entirely likely." He scratches his fingers lightly against Poison's skull. "We should probably clean up?"

Poison makes a face. "If you insist. You're gonna have to carry me though 'cause I'm not sure I can feel my legs. Or bring the cleaning up over here."

"Are you kidding?" asks Jack, bending his head to take another kiss. "Because you know I can totally carry you."

"Hey, I was giving you options," he huffs. "In case you didn't feel like hauling my lazy ass anywhere."

"Shower or bath?" asks Jack, eyebrow raised as he looks down at Poison. Because he's definitely taken that as a challenge.

"If we take a shower you have to hold me up. I'm good either way." He grins. He's been well behaved all night, he's so not being helpful now.

"I could hold you up," he says, smirking. "You're made of, like, knots and string and bold claims anyway." He squeezes Poison's bicep as if to prove his point.

"Pretty much just that. You forgot razor blades, though." Sharp edges, string, and bold claims. That sounds like him.

"True," laughs Jack, ducking his head to take a kiss. "Sharp enough to cut."

"From the inside out, baby." He smiles, but it's not that strong. He kisses Jack again and lightly squeezes with his legs.

"I seem to be coming away unscathed so far," says Jack. He kisses down Poison's neck for a second and then pushes up onto his hands. "Right. Shower or bath. C'mon. Pick."

"You like the tub. We can take a bath." Poison preferred the shower, but he doesn't mind. Jack's been good to him tonight, he can wallow in the tub.

"Bath means I don't have to hold you up," says Jack, bending his arms like a press-up so that he can take a kiss before he gets up off the bed and pads into the bathroom to turn on the faucet.

"Mmhm, I'm taking it easy on you," he quips, grinning. Poison stretches lazily, then relaxes, waiting for Jack to retrieve him.

Jack waits until the bath is almost run before he comes back. He puts one knee on the bed and then slides his arms under Poison's knees, around his shoulders, hoisting him.

"Fuck," he says. "There's nothing to you."

Poison rolls his eyes. "That is so not true," he insists as Jack lifts him up. He snuggles close even as he's carried through the bedroom.

They're built completely different. Poison is slender and wiry; Jakx is built broader, more obviously muscled. He sets Poison down onto his feet in the bathroom, keeping hold of him with arms around his waist.

"Want to lean back against me again?"

"Yeah, that sounds really good," he says. "I might fall asleep on you, just so you know that." He leans into Jack, already feeling drained and tired. It's not a bad thing - kinda nice, actually, but he knows if he goes down he might not get back up.

"S'okay," says Jack, climbing into the tub and then offering Poison his hands. "I'll keep your chin up."

"Oh good. It would be fucking... I don't know, ironic? If I take taken out by water." Maybe ironic isn't the word he wants, but it's the only one he can think of. Once Jack is settled, Poison eases into the tub and sinks down, snuggled up to Jack's chest. "Wore me the hell out, baby."

"Good," says Jack, pressing a kiss against his forehead. "You know. I kind of like that we...switch it up?"

"Yeah? Like, top and bottom or...?" He just wants to be sure, since Jack could be talking about showering versus bathing for all his brain knows right now.