rockabillyboy | Post Founder's Day

"Baby, I am into so many things," says Jack, laughing a little, reaching out to tuck Poison's hair behind his ear. "You've seen the kind of porn I watch."

Poison moves lazily to lay his head on Jack's chest, loving the sound of his heart. "I have. You watch filthy porn, Jack Vincent. I've seen your browser history."

Never mind that they've watched stuff together. And never mind that Poison was there with Jack when they discovered a few of his predilections.

"But I like that about you, tiger."

Jack snorts, tousling his fingers into Poison's hair.

"You like knowing what to exploit."

"I really, absolutely do. But don't sit there and don't act like you don't know how to do the same thing." Poison props his head on his arm as he looks up at Jack, eyes bright with amusement.

"Though, lucky you, usually you just have to take your shirt off and look come hither and I'm good to go."

"I am so fucking glad you slipped and called me daddy that one time," says Jack, leaning in to take a kiss. "That makes it way easier to take you apart."

Poison pops out of the kiss with, "Dude, I want you to know that I almost fuckin' died when that happened. Right there in the bed. Thank fuck you were into it."

He makes big eyes to make his point, then grins and kisses Jack again. "Guess that's fair revenge for the boner you got when I showed up in make up and a skirt."

"Every single fucking time I see you in a skirt," he says, grinning. "And let's not pretend that that's the weirdest thing I'm into, okay? I can own it."

"I wouldn't call any of it weird," he insists. "Not even the boners you got for the Iron Bull."

Poison waggles his eyebrows and tries not to grin too much. Teasing Jack is fun, okay?

"Bull was totally something else," says Jack, grinning himself, though he blushes a little too. "That? Was therapy."

"I know. But it was still a therapist with a huge dick." Poison cackles, because he remembers seeing Bull naked, once, and the image will be forever burned into his skull because holy shit.

"Have you seen him lately?" he wonders, just because of... well, everything. But they've been alright, and this? This is perfect.

"If I'd seen him, you'd know," says Jack, nudging Poison with the heel of his hand. "I'm doing okay. I mean, if you want to slap me around, I'm not going to say no."

"Baby you are gonna be feelin' me tomorrow," he promises, winking up at Jack. Then his look gets all soft and he can't help his smile.

"You're fuckin' beautiful."

Jack's self aware enough that he doesn't argue with that, just smiles under the attention.

"You're not so bad yourself."

Poison leans up to kiss Jack's nose, then pushes himself up more so he can sit on top of him. He's still a mess; he'll take care of that later. Or, maybe...

"You know, since you made such a fuckin' mess of me, the least you could do is clean it up."

One eyebrow slides up, pointed, testing.

Jack bites his lip over a grin, sudden heat flooding his cheeks as he tips his head back to look up at Poison.

"Sir, yes, Sir."

Poison just grins and ruffles Jack's hair. "Good boy," he coos before he rolls off of him, laying on his back so Jack might have an easier time getting at all of him.

"Don't keep me waiting, and don't get carried away. Do your job, nothing else, unless I tell you to."

Without another word, Jack rolls onto his belly and squirms closer, starting with Poison's belly, licking and sucking at the taste of Poison's come splashed across his skin.

He sighs, just to let Jack know he approves, and stokes his fingers into his hair. He's gentle for now, encouraging as Jack does exactly as he wants. The first time it feels like he's straying or lingering too much, Poison gives his hair a firm, quick yank as a warning.

Once Poison's stomach and chest are clean, Jack glances up, looking for permission before he starts to slip lower, between Poison's thighs. "Could you roll over?"

Poison rolls his eyes like it's an inconvenience and gives Jack's head a push. "Best behave yourself," he warns.

When he does roll over, Poison doesn't stay on his belly. Instead, he braves himself against the top of the headboard, knees spread to give Jack access.

Jack leans in and gets busy with swipes of his tongue between the cheeks of Poison's ass, cleaning up the mess of lube and his own come. He groans softly.

He closes his eyes, lets himself enjoy the sweet sweeps of Jack's tongue. He's half hard again but he knew it wasn't going to be that difficult.

For a while he just lets Jack work, but eventually he pulls away, turns and sits against the headboard. He takes stock of the boy in front of him, a bit sloppy, all beautiful. Finally, he eases off the bed.

"Lay on your back," he says as he wanders away, over to the dresser. "Stroke yourself hard if you're not there yet."

Arranging himself as instructed, Jack gets comfortable, spreading his legs a little and then stroking his half-hard cock as he watches Poison move around the bedroom.

Poison stands in front of one of his drawers for a moment, considering. Finally he finds a pair of black, lacy things that he knows Jack loves. He finds a pair of black thigh-highs, too, and a black cami. It looks good against his pale skin, and it all feels good.

Satisfied, he fluffs his hair and looks through another drawer. It doesn't take him long to find what he wants there and soon enough he's back on the bed, settled between Jack's thighs.

"If you're good... what do you want when I'm done with you?" Poison asks as he bats Jack's hand away to take over stroking his dick himself. He watches Jack's face while he does. Jack granted him having his hands free as a reward for behaving, he supposes offering Jack something is the least he can do before he gets going.

Jack thinks about it for a moment.

"Let me choose where you come." He doesn't rock up in Poison's fist, but it's hard to resist. His hips tremble.

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