afabulouskilljoy | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Date night means an empty - or at least quiet - house. It's not a rule or anything, but sharing all this space with other people makes privacy a precious commodity. Especially now that Paul is also hanging around. He seems like a nice guy, Poison's glad Jillie has someone to hang out with.

He just wants time with Jack.

He also doesn't want anyone to witness a potential culinary disaster, so. Yeah.

Poison's in the kitchen, jeans and a t-shirt, and he's got a recipe on his phone that he's following. Maybe he's cheating a little with pre-made pasta, but he doesn't think he could make a tortellini to save his life and he wants dinner to be edible. He's avoiding meat for Jack's sake, but at least he can use real cheese. He's pretty sure his ancestors would fucking haunt him somehow if he had to cook an Italian meal without cheese.

For an aching, hollow moment he thinks of Ghoul. He could do this with a blindfold.

He pushes through it and checks on the cooking pasta and the sauce. He at least made that from scratch. Tortellini primavera sounded pretty good when he'd looked it up.

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"Then you two can hold me back, if you need to. But trust me, too. Sometimes I need to go places and... and I don't want to be taken off guard so hard if grief hits me in the face again."

"The only time I've ever seen you not you was when you dyed your hair and tried to scrape all of the skin off your back," points out Jack, gently. "You can forgive me being nervous, right?"

"Of course I can, honey. But that was-- that was different. That was trauma, not aesthetic. See? I don't do well when I don't deal with shit. I flip out in... apparently wildly destructive ways. Either physically destructive or... relationship-destructive. I don't know." He shrugged a bit helplessly. "I just know I need to deal with this somehow or it's going to bite us both in the ass again, and I don't want my shit to hurt you."

"We're still here, we're still getting married." He nods taking a bite of his food and then washing it down with a swallow of his beer. "I'll stop you from getting in too deep, I promise."

Poison nods. "It's gonna be okay. Just gonna see a new side of me." He isn't sure Jack has seen him in full blown creation mode; neither has Girl, really. He remembers Ghoul's voice telling him to slow down before he burns up, but that had never been an option. Here, at least, it could be.

Jack's finding it really hard not to be uneasy about the whole thing; he knows how easily Poison can get lost. But he's going to be supportive, no matter what.

"I guess we'll see how it goes."

"You're my anchor, baby." Poison slides his hand over to catch Jack's, squeezing gently.

When they finish eating, Poison gets up to put food away - he doesn't know how to make a small batch of anything, so there's enough for left overs if they want something tomorrow, or if Girl or Jillie want any when they come home. And after the kitchen is clean, he catches Jack's hips and leans up to kiss him.

"What should we do with the rest of our date night?"

"Well, I thought you were going to play me something?" he says, looking up at Poison with a gentle smile. "And then I'm sure we can figure something out."

"I did say that. You mind a recording? Doesn't have the same effect without the band." Even as he asks, Poison tugs Jack toward the living room, where is laptop is set up. Kav had sent a couple files of somewhat finished songs for Poison to possibly fuck with. He let's go of Jack and hands him a pair of headphones. He wants it to fill his ears.

Poison pulls up one of the songs - Sharpest Lives - and hits play.

Jack listens in silence, taking in the lyrics, letting the whole thing absorb him. When it's done, he lets out a soft huff of breath.

"Well, it's definitely got an edge," he says. "You sound on the verge of cutting yourself."

Poison shrugs. "Not sure how I'm supposed to take that," he says with a faint laugh. Did Jack think he was like Jillie? Or did he mean all those sharp edges on the inside, the ones Poison has been living with for a long time?

"It helps to write it."

"I don't mean literally," he says, reflexively glancing at the door to make sure that Jillie isn't standing there, that she didn't hear him say that. "Just...Yeah. There's a lot of anger in it."

Poison nods and he moves closer, sort of leaning on Jack. "Yeah, there is. I've got a lot of it, Jack. More than I thought I did. And a lot of hurt, too. Because I haven't known what to do with it until now."

He leans to kiss Jack's cheek. "But I'd rather it come out like this than some other way."

Jack nods, reaching up to idly fiddle with a bright red strand of Poison's red, red hair.

"Better this than explode, right?"

"Exactly. I'm not that easy to hold onto when I'm in a hundred pieces across the sky." He kisses Jack's forehead, lips lingering. "And I don't want that taking me away from you."

Jack has a brief, sharp flashback to last year, when Poison had fallen apart completely. There's no way that he wants to go back to that. He nods.

"Whatever you need, baby."

Poison smiles and pulls Jack into a sweet kiss. "You," he murmurs. "And you're gonna marry me. I'm so fucking excited for that, Jack. Whatever happens, whatever dark places I go... I've got something really bright ahead. I've got something really bright right here."

Edited 2017-07-18 04:12 (UTC)

"Wherever you go, just promise me you're coming back," says Jack, gently, brushing Poison's hair back from his face. "Just keep pulling towards the light, okay?"

"Always, honey." He pulls Jack into a kiss, pressing close. "You are way too over dressed for the rest of date night," he murmurs against Jack's mouth as a grin creeps across his face.

"Mmhmm," says Jack, grinning, turning his head and pressing a kiss against Poison's mouth. "We've got the house to ourselves. Why don't we do something about that?"

Poison's grin gets brighter, if that's possible, and his hands slid over Jack's sides, fingers pushing beneath his shirt to feel his skin. "Think the girls'd get mad at us if we fucked on communal furniture?"

"I mean, probably?" says Jack, leaning into the touch under his shirt, arching up to take a kiss. "But I'm not going to tell them. Are you?"

"That's rude, Jack Vincent." Poison grins and slides right into Jack's lap, straddling him where he sits as he leans in for another kiss. His hands push higher. "But I'm not a snitch."

"You almost full-named me then," says Jack, grinning broadly as his hands slip around Poison's waist to settle him more securely in his lap before he lifts his arms so that Poison can peel off his shirt.

"Do I know your middle name?" He narrows his eyes a little after tossing Jack's shirt aside. His hands smooth over Jack's tattooed arms and he leans to kiss him again, humming against his mouth.