rockabillyboy | (no subject)

He doesn't care about being a mess, especially not with Jack. He smiles and rests his head on Jack's shoulder, wrapping around him as much as he can just then.

"Hey," he murmurs, still trying to catch his breath.

"Hi," says Jack, turning to kiss Poison's forehead, uncomfortable, now, with the pillow wedged under his ass, but unwilling to move, all the same. "That was pretty incredible."

Poison smiles and nuzzles Jack's cheek. "Yeah?" He brushes a kiss wherever is nearest to his lips, and he feels like he should move but Jack doesn't seem in a hurry to let him go.

"Yeah. Probably not for you, but..." He huffs his hair out of his eyes and loosens up his hold on Poison, letting him move if he wants to.

"Shut up with that," he says gently. "It was amazing for me too, honey." He leans up to give Jack a tender kiss, then slowly pulls out. He tugs the pillow out from under Jack and tosses it back towards the head of the bed.

As soon as Poison's moved the pillow, Jack reaches out to snag his wrist and pull him back in close. He doesn't care about cleaning up the mess right then.

"I just...worry about..." He frowns. "You getting bored. With me. There's only so many books I can read, you know?"

Poison shakes his head. "It's not about reading books, Jack. You think I'm with you 'cause you're a novelty?" He settles close and strokes his fingers through Jack's hair.

"If it makes you feel better, I've been worried all this time about tying you down. Or making you feel like you're stuck."

"Not what I meant," he says, shuffling closer until the tip of his nose is almost brushing Poison's. "Just...having to show me every little thing? I know I'm a quick study, but I don't want it to get tedious for you." He swallows. "I can't imagine wanting anyone but you."

"You can't imagine it now. But I'm still only the first person you've ever been with." He touches their foreheads together, then gives Jack a light kiss.

"I'm not worried about showing you stuff, Jack. And I'd rather we like... learn and do stuff together than you never ask at all."

"So? Maybe you're the only person I'm ever going to be with." Right now, he'd be okay with that. He leans into the kiss, just a light brush of lips. "Guess I'll keep asking then."

"Always ask," he says between kisses. He nuzzles Jack's shoulder. "No matter what it is."

"Got it," says Jack, nodding. "I'm starving. You want breakfast? Coffee?"

"Oh my god I would seriously love breakfast. And coffee." Poison leans to kiss Jack, then gets up, because now he has motivation to not be in bed.

He stumbles, just a little, on his way to the dresser. "Took me out at the knees, baby." He grins at Jack, then paws into his drawer - the one with the clothes he keeps leaving here - to find a pair of pale purple pajama pants with fluffy white sheep drinking tea on them, and a t-shirt.

"Those pajamas are ridiculous," says Jack, smirking a little and grabbing his own, heathery plaid and a t-shirt. He pushes one hand through his hopelessly tousled hair. "More where that came from," says Jack, wrapping his arms around Poison and squeezing him, dropping a kiss into tousled red hair.

"Whatever, my pajamas are always amazing and you're just jealous."

Poison grins as Jack wraps around him and they kind of toddle together down the hall. "What kind of breakfast are we having?"

"I just don't know how someone dresses like you do most of the time and then that's your choice in lounge wear." He lets go of Poison, tousling a fond hand through his disordered hair as he steps past him into the kitchen.

"Waffles? Pancakes? Eggs?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he huffs when Jack comments on his wardrobe choices.

"Oh man... waffles. Also eggs if you want like, protein."

"Waffles, I can do," says Jack, ducking down to grab the iron out of the cupboard where it lives. "And protein. Right. Keeping your strength up." He smirks. "How do you want your eggs?"

"Over easy," he quips. "Also you need to continue that thought about my wardrobe, sir." Poison hops up onto the counter to watch Jack work.

"Over easy," says Jack. "That's how Jillie likes them." He shrugs, moving around the kitchen, grabbing eggs from the fridge, getting breakfast going. "I just think it's funny. How you present yourself to the world and then how..." He glances. "Fuzzy you are in private."

"I would wear these pajamas out in public, thank you," he says. He grins though. "How do I present myself in public?" For whatever reason, maybe it's a bit of ego, he likes hearing Jack dissect it.

"Rockstar revolutionary?" says Jack, starting to make waffles before he has to concentrate on the eggs. "Lots of leather, lots of torn denim. There's a definite aesthetic there, boo."

"That aesthetic is partially left over from what was available in the Zones," he points out. "But yeah, I do like a certain look. But I would also still, totally, go out in these pajamas."

"That's because you don't give a fuck what people think," points out Jack, with a grin. Most of the time, neither does he, but he's a work in progress. "It's an attractive quality."

"Mostly true," he admits with a solemn nod. Then he grins. "Yeah? He scoots closer so he can kiss Jack's temple. "It's the revolutionary."