rockabillyboy | (no subject)

"Just relax a little," says Jack, his eyes darting up at Poison, taking in the lines of him. "God knows how long I'm going to have to make you lie there."

"I'm relaxed," he insists, smiling. "I can hang out for a long time, baby, don't worry. In worse positions than this. Besides, you look pretty cute over there, all concentrating.

"We should test that, sometime," says Jack, still drawing lines still sketching him out. "How uncomfortable I can make you."

Poison laughs. "I'm game if you are," he quips. "As long as it's a fun kind of uncomfortable."

"Oh, definitely the fun kind," says Jack, grinning at him. "I still need to get you back for that night I was a girl."

Poison rolls his eyes, but he's grinning. "And which night was that, baby? 'Cause we had a bunch."

"You know full well which night it was, Poison," says Jack, primly. "The one where I got very little sleep."

He laughs, tries not to disrupt his pose. He's grinning. "Oh, that night. Were you uncomfortable, baby?"

"Oh, I don't know," says Jack, smirking. Talking is helping, actually - it's stopping him obsessing. "Butt plug, blindfold, vibrator, tied to the bed and how many loads of come?"

"Did I keep a tally? I feel like I kept a tally." He grins. "If I didn't, you totally should." He weirdly likes the idea of keeping track - it seems dirty, and amazing, and he's all about it. "You looked so good though, baby."

"I was so hard in subspace I can't even remember," admits Jack, smirking. "You definitely kept a tally of how many times you got me off? I think?" He smudges a line with his finger. "I ought to do something similar to you."

"Not gonna lie... I think I'd love every second of it. Especially if you were gonna keep a tally of how many times you came in me, or on me." He grins.

"Maybe after I've finished my homework," says Jack, smirking at Poison. "How do you feel about my professor seeing you naked?" He knows the answer to that question.

"Baby you've seen me on stage, right?" He tries not to grin too broadly, because he knows it changes his facial expression. "Hell I'll probably get off on it a little," he teases. "How do you feel about your professor seeing me naked?"

"I think it's pretty hot, actually," says Jack, grinning. "And I think she'll totally be into it, so...win win?"

"I hope so. I'll be super sad if she doesn't like me." He pouts for a moment, then goes back to the coy little expression he's been wearing for this pose. He makes eye contact again, watching.

The drawing in front of him is actually starting to look like Poison. It doesn't have the easy grace of Poison's drawings, but it's recognisably him, which Jack figures is something.

"You don't have plans for the rest of the evening do you?"

"Nope. Was just gonna play in the closet and maybe think about auditioning or whatever for that job, but I wasn't gonna go anywhere." He wets his lips, a little smile tugging at his mouth. "You have something in mind?"

"Well, now I do," says Jack, grinning. He adds another couple of lines and then flips the sketchpad so that Poison can see what he's produced.

He sits up lazily and he smiles when he sees what Jack's done. "You're getting good at this, baby. Even if you don't see it, I do."

"I'll colour it later," says Jack, turning to drop his sketchbook on the drafting table. "For now, I want you to put on your sluttiest outfit, baby. Underwear, shoes, the whole deal."

Poison grins and rolls off the bed. "Sluttiest, huh? Are we talking like, classy slutty or I'll go down on you in an alley slutty?"

"Slutty slutty," says Jack, reaching for a marker so that he can start on the colour of Poison's hair. "Figure it out."

He rolls his eyes and flaps his hand at Jack. "Uh huh." He paws through his dresser and then disappears into the closet. When he comes back out, he's in a skirt that will absolutely flash his ass if he bends over, and when he's standing the hem teases the tops of his thighs. He's wearing a tanktop, as tight as he can wiggle into, dark against his pale skin: just like the skirt, just like the stockings.

His panties are red lace.

Poison has a pair of heels on, too. Ones that make him as tall as Jack.

"This work? 'Cause I can put on that corset Krem made me."

Edited 2016-10-09 20:17 (UTC)

"That definitely works," says Jack, taking in Poison from the top of his head, the make up he's still wearing, all the way down to his shoes. He doesn't see Poison in heels very often. Something in his stomach swoops.

"Bend over the foot of the bed."