Post Founder's Day

[rockabillyboy]

For a while now they've been laboring under the weight of their losses, and, as a result, they've been kind of careful with each other. In the cab on the way home, Jack realises that he doesn't necessarily want to be careful anymore. He leans in, pressing a sloppy kiss against the side of Poison's neck, right against his pulse. His hand slides dangerously high up his husband's thigh.

"What've you got on under these?"

Comments

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison is proud of himself when he manages not to make a loud noise as Jack's perfect mouth presses against his neck and as his hands race up his thigh.

They've been so careful of each other. If Jack is done feeling fragile, Poison is all too happy to fall to the floor with him.

He tips his head, giving Jack some room as he answers, "Something that matches my hair."

He'll let Jack's imagination run with that for a minute: there are a few possibilities, including red lace.

[rockabillyboy]

Jack groans softly, his mouth still pressed against Poison's skin, his hand sneaking higher to graze the seam between Poison's thighs. He bites his lip for a moment.

[afabulouskilljoy]

"Fuck," he sighs and grabs the back of Jack's head while the other hand covers the one between his thighs, maybe encouraging. He almost feels bad for the person driving, but he'll leave a hell of a tip.

Poison twists a little so he can press into a kiss, harder, slick.

[rockabillyboy]

"God," mumbles Jack when the kiss breaks, when he's a little bit breathless, his palm pressed against the hard line of Poison's dick in his jeans. "I want to do filthy things to you." He's been thinking about it since they were talking earlier, about how things often were in the beginning. How rough Poison had made him want to be when he was still figuring himself out.

[afabulouskilljoy]

"Tell me," he urges, voice low, because the only thing in the world right now is Jack and everywhere their bodies touch. Poison lolls his head to see where they are, realizing, vaguely, that they're on their block. He lifts his hips to grind up up against the weight of Jack's hand.

"And show me."

[rockabillyboy]

Jack waits until they're out of the cab, the driver handsomely tipped, until he can shove his husband back against their front door and kiss him hard and hungry.

"I want to tie you down and fuck you," he says, almost a growl under his breath. "Want to see how much you can take."

[afabulouskilljoy]

His back hits the door and Poison does what he can to fucking climb Jack, to get closer to him. He's pretty sure every word burns into his skin as Jack growls against him.

One hand clutches the back of Jack's neck while the other manages to get a key in the door, turns it, and he welcomes the weird rush of gravity as they practically fall into the house.

"Gotta get me first."

Key out of the door, Poison throws it somewhere in the direction of their little entry table before he tries to book it for the stairs.

[rockabillyboy]

Poison's scrappy, they both know that, but only one of them runs for fun. Jack kicks the door shut behind him and takes off at a run, barely behind Poison as they head up the stairs. "You sure you want to make me work for it, baby? Don't think you might regret it later?"

[afabulouskilljoy]

"If by regret it you mean not be able to sit on my ass for a while, I'll take my chances," he gasps out, laughing as Jack catches up way too fast.

Shit, Poison needs to do more cardio.

He flings himself around the landing, up the next flight to their room, but he can feel Jack practically up against his back the whole way. His entrance to their bedroom is pretty graceless, and he almost loses his footing entirely.

[rockabillyboy]

"I hope you like getting slapped around," says Jack, barely out of his breath, knowing that Poison does, and the thought of that only makes him hotter. He lunges, aiming to catch Poison around his waist.

[afabulouskilljoy]

Jack gets him, because a mad dash up two flights of stairs has left his legs complaining. Poison yelps, cackles, and he curls around Jack's grip because he's not going to make it easy for him. Not until he's pinned down somewhere.

"Fuck," he laughs, breathless. Poison makes a half-hearted attempt to get loose, but Jack's arms are strong, solid around him. So he ends up slumping back some instead, leaning his weight into Jack.

[rockabillyboy]

Poison's a dead weight, but Jack's got enough upper body strength to haul him forward a few steps until he can all but drop him on the bed. He presses his weight into the small of his back, keeping him pinned.

"Are you going to be good?"

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison lands face-down and Jack's hand is a firm weight on his back. He squirms a little, grinds against the bed. The friction almost makes him groan.

"You know how I feel about authority," he said, flashing a grin over his shoulder. "Gonna make me?"

[rockabillyboy]

"Damn straight," says Jack, keeping one hand pressed against Poison's back, palming his denim clad ass with the other. "And you know I can, too."

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison breathes a euphoric-sounding cuss and rolls his hips against the bed more deliberately this time. His jeans are tight, like they always are, and the position isn't very forgiving.

He loves that fucking tone.

[rockabillyboy]

Without warning, Jack lands an open handed smack across the seat of Poison's jeans. His palm stings, and his cock throbs.

"How hard do you think you can take it without telling me to stop?"

[afabulouskilljoy]

"Fuck," he yelps, hips jumping forward. The denim helps ease the impact, but he hadn't been expecting it. Poison gets his forearms under him to brace himself against the bed. He's aching hard, but he's also stubborn.

"Sounds like we're gonna have to find out the old fashioned way," he says as he peers over his shoulder again, red hair falling in his face. "Red, right?"

It's been that long, he realizes. Whatever, it doesn't matter, as long as they're still on the same page with their safe words.

[rockabillyboy]

"Red," says Jack, his hand for a moment, while they get this right. "Yellow if you need me to slow down but you don't want to stop altogether." He slaps his husband's ass again. "What colour's the light, Poison?"

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison lowers his head and just grins like a fiend. The next smack makes him bit his lip, stubborn streak kicking in. He adjusts himself on the bed a little, but doesn't disrupt Jack's hand, firm on his back.

"Green, baby."

[rockabillyboy]

Jack shifts his weight slightly, straddling Poison's hips so that he can squirm his hands underneath him and start to unbuckle his belt.

"Tell me if it changes."

[afabulouskilljoy]

"Always," he promises.

Poison does make himself a little useful, trying to lift his hips so Jack can get his belt, his jeans loose. As soon as the black denim slides down enough, there's the tease of red lace. It does, in fact, match his hair.

[rockabillyboy]

"God, those are some slutty panties," says Jack, hauling Poison's jeans down around his knees, leaning his thighs bare, shoving his shirt up to show the small of his back. "Are those new? Did you wear those for me?"

[afabulouskilljoy]

"Yeah, figured it'd be a nice surprise, even if all we did at the end of the day was undress." He knows that Jack likes looking. Poison tries to stay still, more exposed now with his shirt shoved up and his jeans down around his knees. It's perfect, and it turns him on beyond reason to know that Jack likes what he sees.

[rockabillyboy]

Jack slaps Poison's ass, nothing but that that thin layer of lace between his palm and Poison's skin.

"It is," he says, enjoying the way that a red mark comes up on Poison's pale skin. "A nice surprise."

[afabulouskilljoy]

This time it stings and Poison curls his fingers in the blanket on top of the bed, bracing himself more. "I know how you feel about this ass in lace."

He tries to sound cocky, but he's getting distracted, trying to figure out when the next hit might land. And he's trying, and failing, to ignore how it feels to have almost nothing between his cock and the bed.