Jack Vincent (
rockabillyboy) wrote2018-04-03 06:01 pm
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Post Founder's Day
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?"
"What've you got on under these?"
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Just to up the ante.
Poison stretches lazily, still in his black cami and stockings, panties still down around his thighs. He should probably attempt to take any of it off, but he's not in a hurry. If ends up glued together, so be it.
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"God, what did I deserve to a brat like you," teases Jack, reaching out to trail one finger along the top of Poison's cami.
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"It's like letting a genie out of a bottle or something, man. Stuck with all this trouble now."
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"I wouldn't want it any other way," says Jack, still playing with the lace edge of Poison's cami, his fingers brushing against his skin. "You're the love of my life."
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"We should like... shower. Or something. Before my thighs end up glued together."
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"So far so good," says Jack, grinning. He nudges Poison's shoulder, weakly. "You go. Not sure I can stand up yet."
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"My poor baby," he coos, right before he gives Jack another kiss. "You suffer so much. So Buddhist."
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"Life is suffering," says Jack, grinning, leaning in to the kiss. Even the light touch of Poison's hand is enough to make him squirm a little. "Gotta stick to the noble eight fold path."
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Poison just grins, pretty sure he's blaspheming in the worst way, but he's also pretty sure Jack will forgive him.
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"God, you're the fucking worst," says Jack, but he's laughing when he says it, nudging Poison in the shoulder. "Jesus."
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He loves making Jack laugh.
"C'mon, let's rinse off before we end up totally glued together, baby. We can lean on each other."
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"I do love you," says Jack, rolling his eyes. He sighs and pulls himself up out of the bed, holding both hands out to Poison. "C'mon then."
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"This is really just an excuse for me to see you all wet and soapy," he confesses.
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"We share a bathroom," points out Jack, squeezing Poison in against his side. "You see me all wet and soapy most mornings."
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"Oh, I see. So we're just objectifying me," he says, kissing Poison and then leaning in to turn on the shower. "You should just film it next time."
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"I can't believe we've never done that before," says Jack, tugging Poison under the shower with him. "We've done photos, but..."
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Poison breathes a happy sigh when the water hits him. "Fuck, I live here now. Have my mail forwarded to the shower." He does his best to sound dramatic as he leans into Jack.
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"You want to go public?" teases Jack, knowing how wide both of their exhibitionist streaks run. He grins, nudging Poison against the tiles, bending his head to kiss his neck. "You'll go all pruney."
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"You're already famous. Darrow famous, anyway," points out Jack, sliding his hips lazily against Poison's. "And I don't need to be famous, thank you-very-much."
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"People know who you are in context. They spot you at shows and stuff. I sing at you."
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"Yeah, but in context is different from, like, noticing me on the street," says Jack, idly squirming against Poison. "I'm more noticable when I'm wearing gold eyeliner."
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