[The journey of Jack's lips halts at that question, eyes opening. No, he doesn't seem that type, and a part of him wishes that Max was. It's so much easier for people to stop at the carefully polished surface when that's all they really want to see, and it's so much easier to maintain that image for them.
There's a few moments of silence between them, and Jack's heart beats a little faster, breath catches in the quiet of the room. It's more than just the rekindling of passion - Max is like the strike of a match when it comes to that. It's because Jack knows he's considering what he wants to ask, and it's not going to be about his favorite color or if he's ever broken any bones.]
God. [It's more of a soft exclamation than an answer, but it could be both. Jack laughs breathlessly, both arms coming to wrap around Max. There's almost something insecure in it, like he's seeking an anchor in the midst of his own storm.] What if there are too many things to name? [He could just leave it there, trading questions rather than answering them. Keep his best parts intact and let that be that. But with any luck, he'll be in this city for a long time. And during that time, he wouldn't mind seeing Max again. He doubts that will happen if he leaves things like this.] My own ambition. What's expected of me. Anger. Regrets. [Each named like a deadly sin, if only they stopped at seven for him. His eyes flutter closed and he moans softly at Max's intimate touch.] This.
[Not the act as much as the shame he's been made to feel for it. He's still untangling those two things.]
Trust me, you want to stick to asking me about breakfast.
[ max's life has been so far from smooth and polished, and there's nothing he's done with his own hands to try to push it that way. the idea of someone with only the best parts to show simply seems more like a lie than anything else to him, and he's pleased just with the fact that jack's admitting to having something he's less proud of about himself. there's no one in the world without at least one or two things to feel regretful, afraid or ashamed of within themselves, whether it's a reasonable response or not. even max, who does his level best to seem entirely unaffected by most of what goes on around him on any given day.
as such, he isn't bothered either by the pause jack leaves, as if he wants to leave the answer at just a question, or what follows behind it. he busies himself kissing and sucking at the side of his neck, as a finger slipped between his cheeks rubs slow, firm circles over his entrance. ambition, anger, regrets, sex. the last one seems more poignant than the others, more specific, and max hums against his skin, considering it, and filing it away. he'd mentioned rejection for this, and max figures that's likely something to do with it, but what seems more the prominent thing to question at the moment is jack's insistence that he shouldn't want to do exactly that. ]
Here I thought you had to be magic to be a mind reader. [ commented mildly, as the hand at jack's ass pulls up, max sucking at a couple fingers, to wet them, before moving back into place, tip of his middle finger slowly pressing in, agonizingly so, just barely breaching jack's hole. ]
What is it you think will scare me away? [ max whispers the question, like a secret, with lips brushing jack's. ] May as well tell me now, because I'm not going to stop asking.
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There's a few moments of silence between them, and Jack's heart beats a little faster, breath catches in the quiet of the room. It's more than just the rekindling of passion - Max is like the strike of a match when it comes to that. It's because Jack knows he's considering what he wants to ask, and it's not going to be about his favorite color or if he's ever broken any bones.]
God. [It's more of a soft exclamation than an answer, but it could be both. Jack laughs breathlessly, both arms coming to wrap around Max. There's almost something insecure in it, like he's seeking an anchor in the midst of his own storm.] What if there are too many things to name? [He could just leave it there, trading questions rather than answering them. Keep his best parts intact and let that be that. But with any luck, he'll be in this city for a long time. And during that time, he wouldn't mind seeing Max again. He doubts that will happen if he leaves things like this.] My own ambition. What's expected of me. Anger. Regrets. [Each named like a deadly sin, if only they stopped at seven for him. His eyes flutter closed and he moans softly at Max's intimate touch.] This.
[Not the act as much as the shame he's been made to feel for it. He's still untangling those two things.]
Trust me, you want to stick to asking me about breakfast.
omfg so many typos in that last tag wtf
as such, he isn't bothered either by the pause jack leaves, as if he wants to leave the answer at just a question, or what follows behind it. he busies himself kissing and sucking at the side of his neck, as a finger slipped between his cheeks rubs slow, firm circles over his entrance. ambition, anger, regrets, sex. the last one seems more poignant than the others, more specific, and max hums against his skin, considering it, and filing it away. he'd mentioned rejection for this, and max figures that's likely something to do with it, but what seems more the prominent thing to question at the moment is jack's insistence that he shouldn't want to do exactly that. ]
Here I thought you had to be magic to be a mind reader. [ commented mildly, as the hand at jack's ass pulls up, max sucking at a couple fingers, to wet them, before moving back into place, tip of his middle finger slowly pressing in, agonizingly so, just barely breaching jack's hole. ]
What is it you think will scare me away? [ max whispers the question, like a secret, with lips brushing jack's. ] May as well tell me now, because I'm not going to stop asking.