rockabillyboy: (Default)
It is, he thinks, time to get back to himself. He hasn't really drawn since Jillie lift, has let his school work slide and it's time to sort that out. He's started off by sketching the bare bones of a comic layout. He sits at the kitchen table, doing his blocking out first, crisp lines. There's something very cleansing about it, about the order of it.

His eyes drift to Poison, sprawled on the couch in the corner of the kitchen.

"Stay still," he says. "I'm going to use you."
rockabillyboy: (Default)
It feels, a little like it did after Jillie's accident, the big one, the one that ended with their mom in hospital. Loss lies heavy over the house like a sheet over a mirror. Jack spends a lot of time with Poison, with Jillie, giving them as much as he can, as much of what he hopes they need. He plays with Jillie's hair. At night, he lies curled around the comma of Poison's spine, and he holds on as tight as he can.

That morning, he sits at the kitchen table, a small black box on the table in front of him. When Poison comes padding into the kitchen, Jack looks up.

"Can we talk about this?" he says, softly. "I...I want to talk about this."
Because they can lose, at any time. Any minute. So they have to live now.
rockabillyboy: (Default)
He lasts about a week. It's a pretty shitty week - a lot of meditation, a lot of running, a lot of trying (and failing) to find his zen. He hadn't wanted to talk to Poison while he was carrying all of that anger around with him. Eventually, though, he finds his centre, finds his core again, and he goes looking for the man he loves.

The man he can't stay angry with, anymore.

He lets himself into the building but stops at the apartment door, knocking before he enters.

"Poison?" he says. "Are you here?"
rockabillyboy: (Default)
He feels like kind of a shitheel for being upset about it, honestly, but some things demand to be felt and he can't quite pull himself out of it. He ends up curled on the sofa, his head pillowed on his arm, his knees pulled up, just staring at the selfie that Kavinsky had sent him this morning of him and Newt, grinning and happy and so obviously in love, matching rings in place.

What he is not in love with Joseph Kavinsky, not quite, but it's something like it and his heart hurts a little at the knowledge that their relationship is going to have to change because Jack might be a bad buddhist but he can't quite conceive of sleeping with somebody else's husband.

Jack sighs and closes his eyes.
rockabillyboy: (Default)
Sober, it takes Jack a few days to actually talk himself into it. He hadn't been surprised that, when he'd bought it up, Poison had agreed but wanted to come. A little thrill of heat flushed under his skin when he thinks about it. Bull had suggested a hotel room and Jack had insisted on paying. It's snowing, lightly, as they duck into the hotel, as he heads over to the desk and offers his I.D.

"Are we sure about this?" he says, glancing at Poison standing just behind him.
rockabillyboy: (Default)
Christmas is over with and done and Jack has a reservation up at Kagura. The suite had cost a pretty astronomical amount of money, but it's for one night, and it's worth it to buy him and Poison some space to just get some tension out of their systems. He's got a bag, packed with a change of clothes for both of them, a variety of toys - some familiar, some brought especially for the occasion. He's deeply intensely aware of the butt plug that he's already wearing.

He wraps his arms around Poison's waist from behind and looks at the absolutely huge room.

"Merry Christmas?"
rockabillyboy: (Default)
He's pretty much buried in homework. He's struggled to find his rhythm since he moved in with Poison and Dee. He's got a desk set up in their bedroom and he alternates between that one and the one out in the lounge, depending on how much he wants to focus.

Right now, focusing is difficult because Poison is having some kind of fit localised on his closet and a tonne of shopping bags.

"What're we doing again?" asks Jack, his voice just barely edged with frustration.
rockabillyboy: (Default)
"I'm pretty sure that Kavinsky's in love with me."

He blurts it out, all of a sudden, lying on his side in bed with a movie playing on the laptop. He rolls over to look up at Poison, eyebrows raised. "I mean, I know he is. But...it's not a big deal. It's not. It's just...something I'm not okay with you not knowing anymore."

He blurts it out. And then he waits.
rockabillyboy: (Default)
It's not quite daylight when he lets himself into Poison's apartment. He'd showered at the hotel, but he's still wearing last night's clothes, black t-shirt, jeans, boots. He drops his wallet and his keys on the counter and pads into the bathroom, brushing his teeth before he slips into the bedroom. Poison's there and Jack finds himself relieved, even though he doesn't know what he was expecting.

The bed gives slightly when he sits down to take off his boots.
rockabillyboy: (girl)
Usually, Jack Vincent is an early riser. He gets up and he runs or he does yoga. He usually makes breakfast and brings Poison coffee in bed. They had a late night, though, so he's still sleeping when his alarm goes off. He reaches out, hitting snooze and turns over, burrowing his face into Poison's chest.

"Nope. Not yet," he murmurs.
rockabillyboy: (the weight we carry is love)
He's still trying to figure out how he feels.

Mostly, he's been thinking about Poison, about how it felt to be with him like he was with him the other night. About how he feels about that. Not just the sex, which was awesome, but the intimacy of it, lying next to him, sleeping with his arms wrapped around him. What he can't stand is the thought that, maybe, that was the only time he gets to do that. That, now, he has to go back to being Poison's friend, even though he knows what it's like.

He's not sure that he can stand that.

He's been hanging out all day, half dressed, working on his portfolio. Every so often, his phone buzzes and he texts back. That's been his day.

Mostly, he's been trying not to think.

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rockabillyboy: (Default)
Jack Vincent

July 2018

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