[ Johnny pauses, laying kisses on the hollow of his neck as his fingers trace lightly over Jack's flat stomach. He's shifting to kiss him, aching for more, having missed him so sorely during the last week or so when they were having that spat. ]
I like that. [ A lazy, soft kiss. ] I hate when we fight, you know.
[ But then again, it's who they are, so fundamentally different at their core, and he doesn't foresee that stopping anytime soon. ] But the making up is great. Gonna get all nice and loud for me, Jack?
[It gets it out of their system. Jack has held so much in for so long, he knows the poison that it can become in him. And Johnny...he doubts Johnny could hold his emotions in if his life depended on it. But Jack doesn't want him to.
Plus making up is nice. He grins, closing his eyes.]
That all depends on you, fireball.
[If he does those things that Jack likes; if he does them well.]
[ The making up is totally nice -- and Johnny understands, too, why they fight. They are different people fundamentally; and it is their differences that bring them together as much as put them on opposing sides.
But the fundamental thing is this: Johnny would not trade any of this for the world. He smiles and shifts behind him, a hand slipping down into the water to trace lightly over the length of his cock, rubbing over the ridges warmly. He knows the shape and weight of him, knows exactly what he likes, and he sucks a lovebite on Jack's neck that won't be hidden for a few days.
He sets his own fears aside for the moment -- they'll still be there when they're done making up. ]
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I like that. [ A lazy, soft kiss. ] I hate when we fight, you know.
[ But then again, it's who they are, so fundamentally different at their core, and he doesn't foresee that stopping anytime soon. ] But the making up is great. Gonna get all nice and loud for me, Jack?
no subject
[It gets it out of their system. Jack has held so much in for so long, he knows the poison that it can become in him. And Johnny...he doubts Johnny could hold his emotions in if his life depended on it. But Jack doesn't want him to.
Plus making up is nice. He grins, closing his eyes.]
That all depends on you, fireball.
[If he does those things that Jack likes; if he does them well.]
no subject
But the fundamental thing is this: Johnny would not trade any of this for the world. He smiles and shifts behind him, a hand slipping down into the water to trace lightly over the length of his cock, rubbing over the ridges warmly. He knows the shape and weight of him, knows exactly what he likes, and he sucks a lovebite on Jack's neck that won't be hidden for a few days.
He sets his own fears aside for the moment -- they'll still be there when they're done making up. ]
Come sit on my lap.