Jack Vincent

"I was doing better," he insists softly, like that made up for the fact that he'd tried to do an impression of a turtle in the first place. Hiding up inside himself, like he had some shell that would protect him. He did, sort of, but Jack wasn't on the outside of it. He shouldn't be.

Poison flexes his fingers once his hands are free, then he reaches for Jack to pull him closer, so he can kiss him.