mitsubishievo | (no subject)

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This was not a date. Kavinsky and Jack had agreed that they were not dating, and so this was not a date. It was this: Kavinsky worrying if he was coming on too strong with an outfit that was all tight jeans and loose shirt; Jack picking him up in his car; them laughing with the top down even though it was getting too cold for that; a club, and Kavinsky teasing Jack that he still needed to use a fake ID, and Jack teasing Kavinsky that one of his boys would need to use a fake ID for a whole extra year.

The club was noisy and dim and full of people. Kavinsky didn't think he'd really gone out in ages; he was normally working on weekends, when he would want to go out, and work and school occupied Newt, and Al, and Peter.

"Isn't it a school night?" he asked Jack, next to his ear so he didn't shout himself hoarse in the first ten minutes they were there. He gave Jack's arm a squeeze. "I'm gonna get a drink. What do you want?"

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Arousal flares through Jack as he watches Kavinsky come, as he watches it pass over his face like that. He swallows, closing his eyes for a moment, riding it out.

"Now clean up your mess."

Kavinsky was moving his hand up before Jack spoke, while his eyes were closed. So when Jack spoke, Kavinsky let out a little whimper as he sucked and licked at his fingers and palm. He made good time on cleaning himself up, and double checked his other hand. His cock was a mess, but there was nothing else he could really do about that.

Jack watches as Kavinsky licks every last spot of come off his skin. He shivers as a wave of arousal goes straight through him.

"Now put yourself away and get out of the car."

The threat hung in the air again--that Jack wouldn't let him come again, that he'd just leave him there--but Kavinsky's body moved automatically. He wished he could articulate the need for assurance, the briefest moment to solidify what this was and what was happening. Instead, the thought of it rattled around his head, and then he put it away. He put his clothes back together, smoothed everything out, and climbed out of the car.

Once they're both out of the car, Jack walks around, taking his time and then he leans against Kavinsky and takes a warm kiss, full of want and possession.

"You look beautiful when you come," he murmurs.

Kavinsky waited by the side of the car, and when Jack came around to him, and kissed him, the tension and anxiety lifted. That was the first hurdle, Kavinsky supposed. He could relax for a moment. He kissed Jack back, opening his mouth, sharing the taste of himself on his tongue.

"I don't look half bad getting fucked, either," Kavinsky promised. Then, speculatively. "Did you bring lube?"

"Yeah," says Jack, his bag slung on my shoulder. "I threw a couple of things in my bag this morning." He takes another kiss. "Shall we?"

On 7 October 2016 at 06:36, mitsubishievo - DW Comment < dw_null@dreamwidth.org> wrote:

Kavinsky nodded, pleased with that. He opened his mouth to the kiss, sighing a little, and cheekily slid a hand down between them so he could brush casually against Jack's crotch with the guise of adjusting himself.

"Let's go. We've got the whole night ahead of us."

"Damn right we do," says Jack, threading their fingers together and tugging Kavinsky away from the door towards the hotel. He's picked a relatively fancy hotel and he walks in like he belongs there.

Kavinsky was rather used to posh hotels. There weren't a lot of them in Henrietta, certainly, but he was known to treat himself when he traveled other places, because what was the point in not treating himself. Somehow, he was a little surprised that Darrow had a hotel of that standard--not quite a luxury place, but something suitably mid-tier.

He lingered at Jack's side, aware that Jack's going-out clothes were still more suiting to this place than Kavinsky's. He leaned in to Jack's ear as they stood at the front desk, Jack getting them a room, and whispered, "Looks like you picked me up for a good time, man."

"What?" says Jack, flashing Kavinsky a look, raised eyebrows and a smile twitching the corner of his mouth as he hands over his credit card. "You saying I didn't?"

Kavinsky grinned lazily, rolling his eyes. What a Goddamn line. And here he'd been trying to at least get a little bit of a fluster under Jack's skin. He leaned his back against the counter, stretching himself out into a series of long, sinuous lines. Bulking up in Darrow hadn't made him big, by any means, but he was certainly a far cry from the wiry, narrow-chested boy he'd been when he'd arrived.

He waited until the card had been run and Jack had gotten the key card and a receipt. "You know," he said. "I could have paid for that."

"Yeah, I know that," says Jack, rolling his eyes as he turns and heads towards the elevator. "But that's totally not the game we're playing here, is it?"

Kavinsky grinned cheekily. It was, actually, something he'd said to guys picking him up before that thought taking him to a fancy place would make the situation less reprehensible. But he didn't say that, because Jack didn't think this was reprehensible.

They got into the elevator, and Kavinsky leaned against the wall until Jack had put in for the floor and they started up. Then, he tucked his thumbs into the waist of his jeans and dragged them down slowly, grinning, watching Peter.

"Should I start out on my knees in here, baby?"

Jack watches the slow progress of Kavinsky's jeans and tilts his head, his eyes darting to watch the climb of floors towards the room they've rented.

"Don't think you're going to have time to make it worth your while, man."

"Never said I was gonna do nothin', anyway," Kavinsky pointed out with a wicked grin. He stayed where he was, tempting and filthy-bodied. "Could just show you how it looks. Could just tease you a tiny bit."

"Is that what you are?" asks Jack, leaning back against the lift, his eyebrows raised. "A tease. Because we're going to work on that, Kavinsky. Your behaviour. How you present yourself."

He's pretty sure his dad said those exact words to him once. Just...different context.

Kavinsky giggled, thrilled and light. He felt abundantly high, without much in his system at all. Maybe he'd need something to sustain it, but he hoped not. He liked this: not quite sober, giddy, getting hard again and even if he hadn't been, so needy he wanted to burst.

"You like my presentation, baby."

"You're slutty as fuck," says Jack, enjoying the roll of the curse across his tongue. "I like that."

The words thrilled in Kavinsky's chest. Yes. Yes, he was, and it was okay here. Everyone was aware and informed, and there was no wrong in this. He grinned at Jack, and slowly undid the fly on his jeans, flashing colorful boxer briefs underneath. The elevator opened onto their floor.

"Lead the way, handsome," Kavinsky murmured, thick and deep and just a little needy. "I'll show you how slutty a fuck I can be."

"I don't think you get to call me that tonight," says Jack, stepping out of the elevator and walking down the corridor with a confidence that says he just expects Kavinsky to follow. "Pick something else."

"I don't think you'd like anything else I wanna call you," Kavinsky said, grinning cheekily. He thought handsome was a perfectly acceptable thing to call Jack. Respectful without being cheeky or presumptuous. But if Jack wanted to be called something else tonight, Kavinsky could supply.

He wandered up close to Jack from behind, wrapping around him loosely and nuzzling at his neck. "Maĭstor," he murmured against his ear, the hint of a moan living in the word.

A smile tugs at the corner of Jack's mouth, as he unlocks the door and pushes it open.

"Does that mean what I think it does?"

"It means whatever you want it to mean, maĭstor," Kavinsky said, sliding into the hotel room behind Jack. Once he was inside, he started to take off his clothes almost immediately. His jeans, already undone, came down from his hips easily. "Figure you want me naked before you want me on my knees, right? Anything else I can do for you before we start?"

"That sounds like a good start," says Jack, eyebrows raised expectantly as he sits on the end of the bed and watches Kavinsky strip.