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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"Not remotely." He wraps a towel around his waist before following Jack out into the bedroom.

Jack sorts out a pair of pajamas that he knows Poison likes, heathery plaid, and a black t-shirt. He drops them on the bed, towelling himself off before he collapses on of the quilt.

Poison hops into the pants and ties the drawstring - otherwise they're gonna come off - then pulls on the t-shirt. Comfortable, he eases into bed, getting close as soon as Jack has settled. He leans over him, giving him a light kiss. "Hey."

Jack wraps one arm around Poison's waist, hand slipping up under the hem of his t-shirt to press against warm skin. "Hi."

"You okay?" He sinks down, keeping his weight on his forearms as he frames Jack's head.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he says, a smile twitching the corner of his mouth. "Just back to you scaring the shit out of me again."

He brushes his fingers through Jack's hair and kisses him again. "Why?"

Words tremble on the tip of his tongue and he swallows them back down, loses himself in the brush of Poison's fingers through his hair, the warmth of Poison's skin under my palm.

"A lot of feelings," he admits. "Doesn't feel like my chest can keep them all in."

He pushes himself up a bit, one hand sliding down to rest over Jack's chest - over his heart. "Just don't let go," he murmurs.

"Velocity, man," he says, covering Poison's fingers with his, squeezing gently. "You're a terrifying person to fall for."

It's more than he's admitted up until now.

"Falling is terrifying no matter what," he answers. He curls his fingers, trying to hold Jack's, then kisses him again.

Jack shifts his hand so that he can thread their fingers together, squeezing Poison's hand.

"I think it was starting to happen with Bex?" he says, quietly, feels odd and guilty the moment that he's said it. "But, yeah. This feels..."

Poison kisses him, gently cutting off that thought. Different, he's sure, or more intense. And either way it scares him, because for Jack this is new but for him it's familiar, and that makes it more terrifying. Because the last person he felt it for is gone, dead, because of him.

They don't talk about these things, which Jack understands and doesn't mind. He knows that Poison doesn't want to label this, doesn't want to think about it too deeply because losing Ghoul is too raw, too new. None of this was supposed to happen this quickly. Maybe none of it was supposed to happen at all.

But here they are.

Jack curls his arm around Poison's neck, holding him to the kiss for a moment. It's gentle in a way that their kisses aren't, always. Jack feels himself melting into it.

Poison sinks more into it, fingers sliding through Jack's hair. When he lifts his head, he stays close, turning to nuzzle Jack's cheek.

"You're really good, Jack," he murmurs.

"I do my best," says Jack, turning his head, taking another kiss. He feels like Poison is oxygen, like he's not getting enough just be breathing. "You make it easy."

"I don't make anything easy." Poison is sure that's true. He kisses Jack again, slower, sweeter, then gives him a light push to separate. "How have you not passed out asleep?"

"Some of this feels easy," says Jack. Some of it feels like a reflex, as natural as breathing or his heart knowing when to beat. He shrugs. "Can't sleep. I'm enjoying looking at you. I'm lying down. It's good."

Poison laughs and rolls his eyes. "Guess I can't complain if you're looking at me."

"Mmhmm," says Jack, gently skimming the tips of his fingers down the graceful bridge of Poison's nose.

Poison tips his head up, lightly kissing the tips of Jack's fingers when they land on his mouth. "Get some sleep, baby. Maybe we'll let you work on that portfolio tomorrow." He settles off to the side. He's tired, with a lot of feelings rolling around in him just now. Maybe sleep will help.

Most of the night, Jack sleeps curled on his side, facing away from Poison. He's still getting used to having someone sleeping in the bed with him. Still, when he wakes up hard, he rolls towards Poison, curling one arm around him, pressing up against him. He's not really awake, not yet.

Poison's spent most of the night awake. He stayed in bed, half the time staring out the window, half the time staring at the ceiling just depending on his position. At least he sleeps for a few hours. He makes a quiet sound, half awake when Jack's arm slides around him. His head lolls toward him, red hair careless across his face.

Poison sleeps in pyjamas, Jack sleeps naked, so there's only a single layer of soft fabric between them where they're pressed together. He leans his head, pressing a kiss against the side of Poison's neck.

"Morning, boo."

He makes a noise - almost like a whine - when he wakes more. But a smile tugs at his mouth when he opens his eyes. "Hey," he murmurs, voice a bit raw from sleep.