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

[rockabillyboy]

"One of us is going to have to get up to make breakfast," says Jack, stepping out of the shower to grab a towel, swooping it around Poison's shoulders before he reaches for one of his own. "We can do rock, paper, scissors or something."

[afabulouskilljoy]

"You mean we can't have it delivered to our bedroom?" Poison pouts, and then he starts thinking about how much it would take to get a delivery person to come into the house, go all the way upstairs, and deliver to their bedside.

Probably a lot.

He towels off before wrapping up. His ass is sore and his knees feel week, but it's perfect.

"I'm pretty sure you cheat at rock, paper, scissors."

[rockabillyboy]

"I mean, we probably could, but I'm not sure I'm into being caught in that kind of position by a delivery guy," says Jack, grinning, watching Poison towel off before he wraps the towel around his own waist. "I do not. You've just got no matter of natural luck."

[afabulouskilljoy]

"None, absolutely no natural luck." Poison gins and gets close to get a kiss. He curls his fingers in Jack's wet hair and bumps their foreheads together.

"But you love me anyway."

[rockabillyboy]

"I do," says Jack, smudging his nose against Poison's before he pulls back. "Forever."