rockabillyboy | (no subject)

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poison

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It's not quite daylight when he lets himself into Poison's apartment. He'd showered at the hotel, but he's still wearing last night's clothes, black t-shirt, jeans, boots. He drops his wallet and his keys on the counter and pads into the bathroom, brushing his teeth before he slips into the bedroom. Poison's there and Jack finds himself relieved, even though he doesn't know what he was expecting.

The bed gives slightly when he sits down to take off his boots.

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Poison reaches to touch Jack's shoulder and scoots closer to kiss him there. "We're gonna be okay. Just... be patient as I come back around."

"I can do patient," says Jack, trying to find that zen place inside of him. He glances up at Poison, flashes a faint smile. "I love you more than anything." He starts cooking assembling ingredients in the pan.

"When you can leave that for a second, c'mere."

Poison waits, and as soon as Jack's close enough he pulls him between his legs and gently cradles his face. His thumbs brush across Jack's cheeks as he leans in, kissing him. When he pulls back he rests his forehead against Jack's.

"We're gonna be okay."

Jack leans into the touch carefully, the kiss. When Poison leans his forehead against his, he closes his eyes, fighting tears again.

"Promise?"

Poison nods. "I promise." He kisses Jack again and pulls him closer as he scoots toward the edge of the counter. He wants to feel close.

The food can take care of itself for a moment. Jack wraps his arms around Poison, tucking his chin over his shoulder, holding him close. His hand rubs in a slow circle against Poison's back, feeling the knobbles of his spine through the thin stuff of his t-shirt.

He pulled back enough to guide Jack into another kiss. This one had an edge of need to it. A part of Poison just... wants to feel wanted. Wants - needs - to know that Jack is still into him, that he hasn't changed his mind, that he hasn't found someone he wants more. He needs comfort, and he tries to find it in that kiss.

Jack doesn't question what's happening here, why the sudden about turn. He cradles Poison's face with one hand, nudging the kiss a little deeper, a soft noise slipping out, muffled by Poison's mouth.

Poison parts his lips to let the kiss get deeper and his fingers tangle in Jack's hair. Then he pulls back, breaking it. "Sorry," he gasps, heat flooding his cheeks.

"Don't say sorry," says Jack, swallowing, looking up at him. "I mean, I'm going to burn breakfast if I don't do something about it, but...shit, Poison. You don't have to be sorry for that."

"Don't burn breakfast," he says with a weak laugh; there might have been the edge of tears in the sound.

"Fuck breakfast," says Jack, turning so that he can nudge the pan off the heat, but then giving his full attention back to Poison. He kisses him again, the corner of his mouth, his jaw. "What do you need, baby?"

"To know that you still want me," he says, a little breathless. His thighs tighten against Jack's sides.

"God, baby, I always want you." His hands slide under Poison's thighs, tugging him to the edge of the counter so that Jack can take his weight, lift him. "Can I..." He glances. "Can I take you to bed?"

Poison nods, unable to summon his voice for a second as Jack pulls him closer. "Yeah," he breathes, at last. "Yeah you can." He kisses Jack again, feeling desperate.

Jack lifts Poison easily enough, pulling him in close, turning them towards the bedroom, breakfast completely forgotten. He leans up to kiss him, hungry and open mouthed, a little messy and off-centre. Full of want.

His fingers are tight in Jack's hair, legs around his waist. He needs this. Poison still loves it when Jack carries him like this. He tries to devour him in every kiss.

When they get to the bed, Jack lays Poison down as gently as he can, kneeling on the bed between his spread thighs. He leans down, slotting his weight against Poison, rocking down against him.

"I love you so much," he mumbles, pressing it between kisses.

"Love you," he breathes. He pulls Jack into another kiss, arching up to press tight against him. "Jack, need you in me." It's a sudden, aching need, and it makes Poison feel desperate in a way that he hasn't in a long time. Almost on the verge of tears. It's been a rough night, and all he wants is Jack.

"Take your pants off for me," says Jack, shifting away from Poison but only so that he can grab the lube.

Poison lifts his hips so he can shove his pajama bottoms off. He kicks them off the rest of the way before Jack gets back.

Jack slicks his fingers and presses two against Poison with no fuss or ceremony. He groans softly as he eases them into Poison's ass.

Poison almost wants to tell Jack to just push into him, but they can't do that. And he's tense, eyebrows drawn together. It takes him a moment to actually relax and he makes a quiet, frustrated sound. He pulls Jack down into another kiss, licking into his mouth as his hips finally rock up to meet the thrust of his fingers.

He feels that moment when Poison relaxes into it, when he starts to rock up to meet him. Jack gets a third finger into him as quickly and as smoothly as he can.

"Tell me when you feel ready to go, baby."

"I'm ready," he gasps. "Please don't make me wait." Poison's been waiting all night, whether he's been thinking about it or not. Maybe it's going to be a little tight, but he wants that. Needs it. He knows it'll be fine - it's not like they're new at this.