afabulouskilljoy | (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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Poison whimpers softly, trying to arch towards Jack as he fucks him. He doesn't know what it is about feeling just Jack's hand on his stomach like that, but it drives him up the wall. His head lolls back and he sort of teases himself for a minute, waiting, waiting, until--

"Lemme have you," he gasps, reaching for Jack, for the hand on his stomach and for the fingers disappearing into him. "Need you, baby."

Jack drags his fingers free of Poison's ass and pauses long enough to slick his cock and then he's leaning forward.

"I want you on all fours," he says grinning. "C'mon, baby. Show me that ass."

"Fuck, you're killing me," he groans. Poison rolls and gets his knees under him, keeping them spread wide. He finally pulls his shirt over his head but he leaves it on his arms to protect his elbows from rug burn.

"I thought you were supposed to be into living dangerously," teases Jack, landing a light smack against Poison's ass before he squares up behind him, crowding it to rub the slick head of his cock against Poison's hole.

Poison grins and rocks his hips back. "You know me," he breathes, rocking back when Jack presses against him, like he can actually get closer than they are. "Fuck, Jack. C'mon."

He gets one of his arms free from his shirt to reach back like he means to guide Jack, like he needs the help.