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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"Maybe you're just insatiable," he quips, voice a little lower, a little more breathy.
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"Maybe I am, where you're concerned," says Jack, grinning, staying pressed against Poison, bending his head to take a kiss.
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His hands slide down over Jack's sides to pull him closer, until he can feel his cock against him.
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"Don't need to be inside you," murmurs Jack, squirming a little against the grip of Poison's hands. "I could come like this."
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Besides, this way he can bend forward a little and push back, like it's the real thing.
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"Oh, Christ," groans Jack, his cock sliding against the cleft of Poison's ass. "You've got such a great fucking ass, baby."
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Even if it's taking him longer, his arousal kicks back in with a little vengeance and Poison groans. "You always feel good, Jack. Wherever I've got you."
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He crowds into Poison's space, pressing him against the tiles as he grinds against him, the soap and water making it easy, everything slippery and slow.
"Can see how people used to mix you up with porn-bots," he teases, nipping at the smooth skin on the side of Poison's neck.
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"That is so uncalled for, man." But he's grinning, because maybe he's not wrong. "Maybe that's what I'll be for--for Halloween."
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"What would the costume look like?" asks Jack, huffing a breathless laugh, keeping up the rhythm of his hips, the slide of skin against skin.
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"Something see-through," he breathes. "And I think most of the bots looked like women, so I might cross-dress a little."
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Jack gropes for Poison's free hand, threading their fingers together, bringing it up to press against the tile next to Poison's head.
"Think that'd suit you."
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"Yeah, but not yet," says Jack, deliberately slowing down the slide of his hips. "I want to stay like this for a while. You feel so good."
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He grins and rocks his hips back lazily, trying to match Jack's slowed pace. He stops stroking himself, just holds his cock to keep it from touching the cool wall.
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"Keep talking," says Jack, his hand still tight on Poison's, keeping him pinned to the wall a little as he keeps his hips moving, keeps sliding against Poison's ass. "Tell me about all the shit you got up to before you met me."
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"There were parties in hidden places, y'know? Places they might not get caught. People off their required daily meds. People that forgot to listen to their daily messages from the company. All colors and sounds and bodies. We'd go in, and we'd party, and sometimes we'd take people out with us."
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"Unless you're going to tell me about all of the orgies you got up to, this is not what I'm looking to hear, Poison," teases Jack, words edged with laughter, his hips still rocking slowly forward and back.
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"That's exactly the talk I want," says Jack, free hand sliding around Poison's hip to curl over his hand around his dick, not stroking, just there for a moment. "You know what I want to hear."
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He grins at the memory and he lets go of his cock as Jack takes over, just holding.
"We ended up down in the sand, almost burned my hands, it was still hot. But it felt so good, adrenaline high and the sky going on forever above us. Like everything would go on just as long - like it could."
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"Sounds good," says Jack, squeezing Poison's cock gently, starting to stroke slowly in time with the rock of his hips. "Tell me about it."
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"Who fucked who?" asked Jack, his voice low and raw, his mouth close to Poison's ear as he slowly strokes his cock, as he grinds against him. It all feels almost too good to bear.
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He remembers them being a desperate tangle, grateful that their comrades were heavy sleepers.
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