rockabillyboy | (no subject)

"Yeah? How so?" He lifts an eyebrow. "Hopefully not the part where you were into her. That's a scene I just can't get behind."

He's fucking with Jack right back.

"What? You mean you don't want to share me?" Says Jack, shooting Poison a flat look that dissolves into a smirk.

"Little, fierce. I'm sincerely concerned she's going to cut me if I piss her off."

"Well we just won't let her near any knives," he quips. He kisses the top of Jack's head. "She's like Ghoul that way. Tiny, fierce."

"What are you even doing with me, boo?" he asks, turning in his chair so that he can clip his other arm around Poison's waist. "You've clearly got a type."

"Ghoul wasn't a type he was an experience," he says with a snorted laugh. He eases closer to Jack and leans in to kiss him. "You're my experience right now. You're my type."

Slow, warm heat floods Jack's cheeks when Poison says that, when he leans down to kiss him. Jack's hand comes up to cradle the side of his face.

"Ready to go back to bed?"

"Yeah, if you're done eating." He smiles and gives Jack another light kiss. "Also, if I had a type, you'd still totally fit in it, because apparently tattoos are a big part of it."

Jack lets Poison kiss him and then he straightens up, curling his arms around Poison's waist, tugging their bodies in close for a moment as he bends to kiss him more thoroughly.

"I'm glad you like them," he murmurs. "Maybe I ought to get more."

Poison grips Jack's shoulders through the kiss, because.. yeah. That was nice. "I'll come watch," he offers, grinning when Jack pulls back to talk.

"What do you think I ought to get?" asks Jack, nudging Poison back a step towards the bedroom.

"I mean, it depends on where, I guess. If you were gonna extend your sleeves, I'd say you should keep up with like theme, y'know?" Poison moves with Jack's nudging.

"I suppose I could," he says, thoughtfully. "It's not like my dad's going to complain about it."

On impulse, Jack bends slightly, his hands sliding down so that he can lift Poison, taking his weight.

Poison squeaks a bit, startled when Jack just lifts him. He immediately wraps his legs around Jack's waist to get some stability, his arms around his shoulders. And maybe he blushes just a bit, because it's unexpected and it kind of reminds him of their size and build differences. And he's good with that.

"How'd you get them, anyway? I thought it used to be you had to be eighteen to get inked." By the time he was eighteen that wasn't really a think anymore, but. Jack was from a civilized place.

"Okay, that noise?" says Jack, taking a step towards the bedroom, carrying Poison's weight easily. "Was freaking adorable. And you do. Have to be eighteen. Unless you've got a lot of ready cash and know a guy."

Poison's face feels warmer and he rolls his eyes. "Whatever, I'm not used to being scooped up," he insists. He huffs a laugh. "Total delinquent. Knowing a guy. Paying for shit in cash."

"My dad's the Mayor," says Jack, rolling his eyes pausing, for a moment, to press Poison's back against a wall so that he can lean up and kiss him. "I've got to keep my delinquency on the down low."

"I'm telling you, I would'a blown that shit up. But then, maybe you don't have the issues I do." He grins when he feels his back hit the wall. He leans to meet the kiss, humming his approval.

"I have a lot of issues, but none of them are quite the same as yours," says Jack, grinning as he leans up into the kiss, one hand tucked under Poison's thigh to support his weight.

"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."