(no subject)

[rockabillyboy]

He's been worrying for weeks, now. He's known Poison for long enough to be able to see it coming: the crash that's inevitable. He's been texting with Kavinsky, knows that Poison's been unpredictable and fractious during recording sessions. They haven't argued, not exactly, but he's ebe intensely aware of just how easily they could be arguing, almost all of the time.

So Jack drives to the studio, and he gets Kavinsky to buzz him up.

"Come on," he says, through the mic into the studio. "I'm taking you to lunch."

Comments

[afabulouskilljoy]

For a minute, Poison just stands there with his arms crossed, looking almost petulant. "Did Kav sic you on me?"

He glared at the booth, even if he can't see Kav in there. Maybe he fled when Jack arrived. Poison sighs and takes the headphones off, dramatically, and waves to the band on his way out of the booth.

He's felt his sharp edges trying to get out. Maybe it started on the Fourth but it ramped up after he met Frank, heard those staticy radio calls that felt too familiar. He tried to shake off his bristle when he sees Jack, this time without a pane of glass between them.

"Hey, gorgeous."

[rockabillyboy]

"Hey, love," says Jack, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of Poison's mouth. "He says he's doing tracking this afternoon, so you're all mine."

[afabulouskilljoy]

"All yours, huh? Sounds dangerous, Jack Vincent. You come over in Ghost or are we walking?"

The answer doesn't change anything; even if he's itching to burn rubber, he can't - won't - treat Ghost like the Trans Am.

[rockabillyboy]

"I drove over," he says, taking hold of Poison's hand and starting to tg him out of the studio. "I thought we could do something at home." A smudge of an idea has started to take shape in Jack's brain. They need to have a conversation. One way or another.

[afabulouskilljoy]

"Yeah? Sure, I'm down." Poison leans to kiss Jack's cheek as they head out of the studio. He flips Kav off in passing, though it lacks real venom.

"Ugh, why is summer so hot," he whines as soon as they're outside. He'd had enough heat in the desert: he had not missed east coast style summers. "How's your day been?"

It feels almost easy to settle into something like domesticity, to ignore the cutting restlessness under his skin.

[rockabillyboy]

"You lived in a desert and you were born in New Jersey," points out Jack, smirking. "You ought to be better at these summers than me, man." He tugs open the passenger side of the car for Poison with a flourish. "I worked this morning. Now my whole afternoon is yours."

[afabulouskilljoy]

"I think that's all the more reason for me to hate it," he says as he drops into the passenger seat. He stretches out as much as Ghost will let him and lolls his head to look at Jack.

"Awesome. And you've decided to kidnap me from the studio. I'm here for this."

He's just getting frustrated in there, anyway. He doesn't know why, or what's making him feel stuck, but maybe getting out for a while will do him good.

[rockabillyboy]

There's something almost cat like about Poison when he's a mood like this; all coiled irritation and barely concealed sharp edges.

"I'm pretty sure I can keep you busy for an afternoon," he says, checking his mirrors and pulling away from the cub.

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison just grins and adjusts himself in his seat so he has a better view of Jack; so Jack maybe has a better view of him. "I have full faith in you, sugar. You are an awesomely distracting guy when you wanna be."

[rockabillyboy]

"Oh, I know," says Jack, grinning, glancing towards Poison. "I work on it when you're not home."

[afabulouskilljoy]

He laughs, startled. "Do you? Shit I need to-- no, no that would b way too fucking creepy."

Too much like Them and he just-- shit he can't even believe his mind went there. What the fuck. He rubs his hair and looks out the window, feeling cagey again, even if Ghost is an amazing car and even if he's with his beautiful fucking husband.

He manages to breathe and he looks at Jack again, puts on a smile.

"I guess I could use the break," he admits.

[rockabillyboy]

He can see Poison struggling, and it grinds in his chest, like sharp edges catching together. He smiles, too, but it feels like they're both faking it.

"Well, you're definitely going to get a break."

[afabulouskilljoy]

When they get home, Poison rolls out of the car and stretches. He looks side-long at Jack, a little grin creeping across his mouth. "So you said something about keeping me busy. What'cha got in mind, Vincent?"

[rockabillyboy]

Jack walks around the car and wraps both arms around Poison, tugging him in close for a kiss. He keeps his arms around him for a long moment. "Something we need to go upstairs for." For what he's got in mind, he ants Poison to be as comfortable as possible.

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison hums softly against Jack's mouth, smiling under the kiss. "Damn," he breathes when they part again. He leans up to kiss him again.

He pulls away but keeps hold of one of Jack's hands on the way into the house, and up all the stairs. Sometimes it still feels too quiet and he wonders if they should try to get roommates or something. But he isn't sure he could handle someone else living in those rooms.

At their bedroom door, he kisses Jack again.

[rockabillyboy]

"You're going to let me take care of you, okay," says Jack, nudging Poison towards the bed with his hands and his hips. "Because I know what's good for you, right? You know I know how to take you feel good."

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison lifts his eyebrows but he feels something warm sink through him and he can't help but flash a coy grin.

"Yeah, alright."

He lets Jack guide him back to the bed, and when the mattress hits the back of his knees, Poison flops down. "Should I be undressing?"

[rockabillyboy]

Jack shakes his head, leaning down to kiss Poison, guiding both of his arms up over his head. They play like this often enough that there are soft restraints looped through the bedframe. Slowly, carefully, he ties Poison down in a way that he knows will be comfortable, his wrists crossed over his head.

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison relaxes back, lets Jack put him where he wants him. There's a moment, when the restraints loop around his wrists, that he feels a tiny stab of panic. But it's Jack, and he trusts him with everything, and after a breath he relaxes again.

He lolls his head to the side to keep his eyes on Jack, curious, since he's still dressed. But that's not weird. Not for them.

"Jack?"

[rockabillyboy]

Jack swings his weight across Poison, so that he's straddling him and then he looks him in the eye.

"I am going to give you the blow job of your life," he says. "I promise. But first? We need to talk."

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison stares up at Jack, and it takes a second for the words to actually sink in. He blinks. "Talk?"

And now he feels a little trapped, but his legs are still free. He could kick if he wanted to. But Jack's warm and solid across his hips and he's still trying to process how he ended up here. Jack's good. He tries the restraints, but he knows they're good.

"What are we talking about?"

[rockabillyboy]

"Talk."

Jack leans forward, slipping his hands under Poison's shirt so that his palms are against bare skin, grounding. "Where you've been the last few weeks. How I get to you again. I miss you, baby. And I know where this ends if I don't get you back."

[afabulouskilljoy]

Poison looks lost for a moment, because Jack is touching him and it's easy and perfect, but he's also demanding answers that Poison isn't sure that he has. Not in any articulate way.

He wets his lips and tries to find words.

"I-- The Fourth, or leading up to it, maybe, and after it-- I don't know." He shakes his head and he looks away, because some part of him is ashamed but he knows Jack's right. He's felt loose at the joints and full of sharpness for weeks now. And he knows it won't end anywhere good.

"The Fourth is always weird and hard, even if I try to burn bright for everyone that's gone. And then like a couple weeks ago this guy had a radio call playing over his phone. And it just-- fuck it sounded like something I'd strain to hear in the static when I first got here."

Hearing the weird radio call coming off Frank's phone set him off, badly, and Poison never brought it up because he doesn't want Jack to worry. He thought he could pull himself back together.

[rockabillyboy]

He remembers what Poison was like when he first got here, the sharp edges, the paranoia. He keeps his hands on Poison's bare skin, moving gently, stroking over him. Calming.

"You know you can tell me these things," he says, gently. "When they happen. In the moment."

[afabulouskilljoy]

"I wanted to run from it," he admits. "I didn't want it to be real. I didn't want to bring it up because I just wanted it to go away."

Jack's hands are warm and comfortable and living, and feel perfect, and he can't believe he made Jack chase him down. But he also can. Because running feels natural and anything else feels like waiting to get hit. If he slows down, something terrible might happen. Poison has no idea what that thing is, but he's terrified of it.