#( ask meme reply. )

[chloesimaginationthings]

PLEASE

draw you movie Mike as Josh Hutcherson in that whistle meme.

You’re not gonna believe this but….

(Original post)

[lenny-link]

Hopefully this doesn't come across as too weird, but I need to get femScout's Pa pregnant

im glad you enjoyed the dilf i created

[hakusins]

♡ Send me a DOL Character/PC + Expression! - Deeppink-man Expression Meme (OPEN!)

i gotchu @propertyofkylar thank you for the ask again my fellow bsky neighbour 🥺!!! in all honesty, i dont have a fixed kylar design yet in my head so i had to redo this one a few times JREJFBJERF hope you like it!!!

the face he makes when he watches you get spanked by Leighton in the library.

[remyfire]

❛ don��t mind me. just enjoying the view. ❜ with robby/abbot? 👀

YAY thank you my friend I love you!!! I hope you enjoy them :D Subtle Smut Starters [AO3 Crosspost]

The first several times that Jack had come home with Robby and fallen into bed with him had been like a race against the clock, as though there was a ticking time bomb in both of their brains that would go off and make them realize exactly how ridiculous what they were doing was. Robby had no complaints, mind you—that kind of adrenaline rush had been something he thought he might've lost after he turned fifty, but no, actually, his body did still seem capable of getting painfully hard within seconds of Jack's mouth on his, all while rubbing Robby's skin raw with his scruff.

A couple of months into it, they had...settled. They'd stripped each other down with care, indulged greedily in the sensual roll of their tongues against the other's. Robby had found the perfect angle to ride Jack without giving either of them back or leg cramps—which they had celebrated with a fist bump while Jack was still balls deep inside of him, something that continues to make Robby laugh when he recalls it. There was a lot of rocking. Moaning. The kind of sex that if Robby had been foolish enough to think they could be a serious item, he might have considered lovemaking. 

In the past few weeks, though, they've sometimes not even bothered to hook up when Jack is over. They'll flop on the couch, Jack will tug and stare until Robby lies down with his head in his lap, and then they'll watch, say, a basketball game, all while Jack pets up and down his side with a warm, firm hand and Robby tries not to shiver.

Whether Robby likes it or not, he's grown accustomed to Jack's presence, his touch, his taste, his sounds, his gaze that pierces straight through him.

It has been ten days since they had sex. Any kind of sex. No hands, no mouths, no thighs, certainly no asses. And Robby is straddling a very fine line between comfortable and panicked. What else is he supposed to feel? The past two times that Jack has come over, they'd gotten in bed and cuddled, kissing without urgency. They'd fallen asleep in each other's arms. Woken up together. Jack had walked him halfway to the Pitt before they'd split ways, Robby to work and Jack to pick up groceries—and the fact that Robby knows that's what he did, that he was confident about what kind of goddamn milk he'd be picking up, that's ridiculous, right? Why the hell does he know Jack's preferred whole milk brand?

Jack is the first person who has slept overnight in his bed with him in years. The first man in even longer. And it shouldn't work, really, not with their contradictory work schedules or their habit of having a massive bed all to themselves in their respective apartments.

All the same, he's here tonight. Jack has already turned the sheets down so that they're pooling around his waist, his torso bare and strong. When Robby has sneaked peeks at him through the bathroom mirror while brushing his teeth—more glances than he's happy to admit—Jack's been sprawled on his side and idly scrolling through his phone, occasionally typing messages of some kind. He doesn't seem particularly stirred up nor agitated. It's as though he decided before he so much as walked into Robby's apartment that they're going to snuggle up and pass out together. Which is fine. Just...nerve-wracking.

Whatever this thing is that they're doing, it should really stop. Robby already drove off Heather, Janey, and any number of other women over the years for one reason or another, and meanwhile Jack hasn't exactly been making small talk about a whirlwind of dates. He still wears his wedding band, for fuck's sake. It's pretty damn clear that neither of them are good candidates for a long-term relationship right now. So what the hell are they doing? Every time Robby tries to bring it up, the words turn to sand in his throat.

He just needs to stop thinking so hard. Totally something that has always been easy for Robby.

Oh, he's fucked, isn't he?

After Robby finishes flossing and pulls out his bottle of mouthwash, he looks through the glass once more, then pauses for a beat when he notices Jack is watching him. Robby's lips quirk before he flicks his gaze away and focuses on rinsing his mouth, trying to lose his thoughts in the sharp minty flavor. It doesn't work. Every so often, he risks another peek, sees Jack studying him unblinkingly, then glances away again. His cheeks heat, at odds with the comfortable chill on his own bare chest. But though he keeps waiting for Jack to tease him about looking like a chipmunk with his puffed-out cheeks, he doesn't say a word. When he finally spits the mouthwash out, Robby takes a deep breath, glances again, then huffs out a chuckle. Jack is, in fact, still focused on him. And he's smiling. "Got something to say?" Robby asks.

Jack shrugs. "Oh, don't mind me." His gaze travels slowly, slowly down Robby's body, the kind of glacial pace that sends a shiver rippling through his veins. "Just enjoying the view."

Against his will, Robby's hand flies to his stomach. Though he doesn't find himself unattractive, he swears that every week, he'll notice a new wrinkle, gray hair, or plushness that wasn't there before. Time marches ever onward and no one can outrun its effects, not even Robby. His gut is a part of that, the piece of him that seems to get softer by the day. "Take a picture while you can, then. It's not gonna be here forever."

"And what if somebody gets a hold of my phone, sees that I'm starting a collection of Dr. Robinavitch's nudes?" Jack drawls, cocking his head.

Robby pauses. "I haven't sent you any nudes."

"Not yet."

"Ohoho! So cocky. So sure."

"I know you," Jack murmurs with a grin. "You've got the idea planted in your head now. You're not gonna be able to bury it forever."

"You underestimate my power." In truth, Robby has never actually sent somebody a fully naked photo of himself. It's not prudishness, it's just...never seemed like the right moment, and he'd hasn't been asked anyway. Isn't it sexier to receive a picture of someone fully clothed, but maybe with a quick flash of lace under the skirt? Less is more and all that. He clears his throat and saunters toward the en suite's door frame, which he leans into. After he flicks off the light, he presses his arms into the wood over his head to support himself. "Besides, Princess and Perlah wouldn't ever let anybody hear the end of it, if they found out we were..."

Jack lifts a brow. "Sleeping together?"

His heart skips a beat. "I was going to say fucking, but sure, we can be a little more delicate about it, if you're too shy." Robby needs the crudeness, needs whatever their entanglement is to lack as much intimacy as possible. Safe. He has to stay safe.

But Jack narrows his eyes thoughtfully and purses his lips. After a few seconds, he rolls over and grabs his phone from the nightstand. "Well, how about we give them something to talk about, huh?"

"We what?"

Robby is still gaping when Jack snaps a picture of him in nothing but his sweatpants. Jack studies the screen afterward with a small smile, which only makes the heat travel down from Robby's cheeks and into his throat. It'll hit his chest soon if Robby doesn't do anything to chill out. But Jack doesn't exactly make it easy, not when he meets Robby's gaze, cocky and smug. "Shy, you said. Gimme a break."

"You're gonna delete it, aren't you?" Robby asks, voice low and quiet.

Jack gives him a particularly hard stare. "C'mere." He holds his hand out.

It takes a moment, but Robby's feet begin carrying him toward the bed whether he's ready or not. He crawls onto the mattress, studiously avoiding looking at his bedmate. But Jack grabs his arm and tugs him down so they're chest to chest on their sides, then turns his phone so Robby can see it. It's not a great picture. It's too dark. A little crooked. Not zoomed in at all. But it is unmistakably Robby, and though he is loathe to admit it, he doesn't look terrible. Maybe a little awkward, but that's what Jack gets for not giving Robby a second to try and strike a pose.

"It looks like shit," Robby finally verbally concludes.

Jack snorts. "Whatever happened to that delicate bedside manner, huh?"

"Talk to me again when you're sick and we'll see how it goes."

"But I am sick." Jack splays one of his big, warm hands over Robby's chest and nudges him to lie back. Robby doesn't resist. "Sick over how badly I want you. What do you think, is there a cure?"

It is a different experience to meet Jack's stare from this close up. The intensity triples. Robby can see the flecks of lighter brown in his eyes, how they smolder now that Jack is touching him. He's killing him. Saying shit that makes Robby's brain continue to churn out answers to calculations that he refuses to accept as sensible. Because what it sounds like is that Jack really doesn't mind if the two of them made this a serious thing. A relationship. Yes, it's 2025, but the progress that has been made has never fully drowned out child Robby who was growing up while queer men were dropping like flies. He finds it so difficult to believe that a guy would ever consider Robby worth the risk that the two-ton weight swaying above them by a fraying rope won't come plummeting down.

Jack's fingers dance upward until he rests his palm directly over Robby's pounding heart, and he catches his breath, wondering if perhaps Jack can suss out his secrets through morse code in his pulse. He gulps, throat dry as a bone, before letting his mouth fall open and allowing the words to slip free. "I'm afraid there isn't. All we can do is try to make you comfortable."

Jack's eyes sparkle. He slings a leg over Robby's hips to straddle him, leaning in until their noses brush. "I don't know how comfortable you can make me when it's this far gone."

"Does it hurt?" Robby asks.

"Oh, it does. It sure fucking does." Jack shifts his weight, then smirks with triumph when Robby gasps at the feel of Jack's hard cock brushing against his own. "Hurts right here, Doc. What're you gonna do to treat me?"

Sparks fly through Robby's veins from Jack's lazy rolls of their hips together. Fuck. Even without recent sex, Jack knows the exact angle and pressure to turn Robby into a puddle. He never thought he would like it this way, allowing someone else to take the lead, surrendering to their intentions. It doesn't always work—there are some shifts that have Robby so keyed up, he'll refuse to relinquish control—but more and more often, this is the pattern they will fall into. Jack on top. Robby spreading his legs. An open invitation for Jack to take him however he'd like. But Jack has never abused it. Robby never leaves Jack's arms feeling regretful.

Robby has a lot of goddamn regrets. He really doesn't want to consciously be adding more to the tally.

As Robby's muscles loosen up, he stretches his back and legs, little pops of relief that only throw coal on the flames of pleasure. "Whatever happened to physician, heal thyself?"

Jack hums. He bites his bottom lip for a few seconds before he replies. "What, afraid you can't be objective with me?"

Another shudder threatens to shake him to his very foundation. He can't say it. He just can't. They've gotten along just fine for all these months without gumming up the good stuff with serious conversations about what they might feel for each other. "Jack..." Robby shakes his head with a sigh, at a loss for words.

Jack comes to a stop and studies each inch of his face with the intensity of a hawk. What does he see? Is Robby still capable of burying all of his feelings or has Jack found a secret back door into everything that he compartmentalizes? Finally he must be satisfied with what he sees, given that he cups Robby's cheek and thumbs a fiery line along his zygomatic bone. Then he leans in. And God help him, but Robby lets him. Something is changing between them at lightning speeds—perhaps has been there all along—and there isn't a cell in Robby's body that is interested in pulling back.

The confident press of Jack's mouth against his own turns even more of Robby's muscles into butter. It's not a kiss designed to excite him. There is such familiarity in it. Jack knows exactly what he likes. Maybe that's as good a reason as any for Robby to cut and run, but he's so. Goddamn. Tired. Of running. He missed this. Missed the gentle slip of Jack's tongue between his lips as he picks up their grinding again. Robby groans, then throws his arms around him. Fuck it. Fuck it. He wants to soak up everything that Jack will give him. Everything.

Jack pulls back an inch. "You're trembling," he whispers.

He is. Robby releases a shaky breath and presses their foreheads together. "Yeah."

Jack rubs his nose against Robby's, sweet enough that he swears he tastes cotton candy. "Let me handle it," Jack murmurs before drawing him back in.

He'll let Jack take the lead, but he's not going to be passive. He rocks against him too, meeting him in the middle, and they moan into each other's mouths as they find a better rhythm. Faster. Harder. The heat in his sweatpants tells him that he must be soaking the front of them with his own arousal. But it's not enough. The fabric is still rougher than he'd like. Robby growls in frustration as he throws his head back on the pillow, trying to will his body to get with the program.

Jack doesn't seem to be as distracted. He nuzzles the sensitive spot behind Robby's ear, then sucks his earlobe into his mouth. "I know what you need."

"Mmm, fuck..." All at once, he's caught in Jack's trap again, arching his back as he runs a line of suckling kisses down his throat, and Jack takes advantage of it by tugging Robby's sweatpants down to free his cock. Robby impatiently kicks his pants off, then sighs with relief at the feel of so much bare skin pressed together, their legs entangling, their bellies meeting with each rapid breath they take. Robby reaches clumsily between them to get his fingers under the waistband of Jack's boxers. "Get it off."

"With pleasure," he murmurs back. He peels himself off of Robby, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment at how his body aches now that Jack isn't crushing him into the mattress. But he only needs a moment before they fly open once more so he can watch Jack's hardness bounce free, curving toward his stomach, throbbing with his heartbeat. It's a good thing that Jack's the one in charge right now, actually, because all of Robby's faculties shut down in favor of basking in the sight of the powerful man above him. All those perfect freckles on his arms, taut and muscled. Shit.

Like he owns the place, Jack stretches out for the nightstand drawer, from which he extricates the small bottle of lubricant. Robby's bought more lube in the past six months than he had his entire adult life. There is, in fact, a whole unopened bottle still in there, along with the box of condoms that they no longer touch. As Jack sits tall on his knees, the streetlights cut through the slats of his blinds and spill dappled light down his gorgeous body, all the way to the dark hair leading to his cock. "Here we go," he murmurs, wriggling a little to get situated, before he pops the cap of the lube and holds the bottle over Robby's length. Robby watches as the thick liquid drips free, then groans as it lands on his hot skin, so comparatively cool. It trickles down his shaft, drop by drop, until Jack tosses the bottle aside and then takes him in hand.

"Fuck, you've got a great cock." Jack's words come out roughly as though he's rubbed his throat raw with sandpaper. "So goddamn thick. Think I need to put it inside me more often."

Robby whines. Whines, like a puppy. How is he supposed to speak when Jack's making sure the lube covers every inch of his hardness? When he's putting images in his head of Jack astride him, bouncing on his cock, right in this very bed?

"Sorry. Not tonight." Then Jack moves in and presses their lengths together, hot and silky skin gliding together like a dream. "In too much of a hurry. Gotta have you. Jesus Christ, Robby, you know what you do to a man?" He tightens his grip around them both, then begins to fuck against Robby's shaft with tight, quick thrusts, getting his own cock covered in the excess slickness that's begun to drip down to Robby's balls.

Robby anchors himself to the moment by running his hands up and down Jack's thighs. They're so muscular, Robby is pretty sure that they could crush his head like a watermelon. Fine hair tickles his palms with each pass. "Oh, shit, that's good..."

"Yeah?" His grin is audible. "C'mon, with me."

He doesn't have to ask. Robby immediately bucks in his grasp, then gasps at the avalanche of sensations—Jack's cock against his, Jack's slick hand giving him something tight to fuck, the answering roll of Jack's hips. Jack is everywhere around him. Robby's bedroom, sheets, and pillows smell like him. He has a specific mug that he likes drinking coffee out of, one that Robby makes sure to always keep clean and near the front of the cabinet. He left a hoodie on the couch a week ago and hasn't bothered to take it home. And it works. It fits. They fucking fit.

Robby's chest tightens like a vice. He doesn't want to watch Jack walk out his front door again. Robby'll procrastinate washing his sheets so that he can bury his face in them and immerse himself in his lover. Because that's what Jack is. Not only in the most literal sense, but someone who Robby knows he could fall in love with so easily if he would only allow it. Hell, maybe he already has. It's difficult to untangle the gnarled mess in his heart to find out.

Suddenly Jack descends to kiss him ferociously, hard enough that Robby thinks his lips will be bruised the next day, and Robby moans into his open mouth as he plants his feet on the mattress for better leverage to fuck his fist. The mattress is squeaking so loudly that he's sure his neighbors must want to murder him, but he doesn't give a single shit. He spends the majority of his life dragging souls away from the abyss of death and suffering from the ones he loses. He deserves this. It's like Jack makes the sun come up every morning as a special gift for Robby when he's on his way into the Pitt. And if Robby wants to drown in his taste, then so be it.

A frenzy overtakes Robby like a bacchanal. He scrapes his nails down Jack's back and eats up the desperate moan he gets in response. He hopes he leaves welts, something that Jack will feel every time his shirt shifts. There is nothing more important than chasing their shared pleasure. But his peak sneaks up on him, and as his balls tighten, Robby breaks the kiss and holds Jack's face between both palms, eyes squeezed shut. "Please tell me you're gonna come, I-I wanna feel you come so fucking badly."

"Look at me."

Robby does in an instant, then flushes at the sharp laser focus in Jack's gaze. Jack loves to do this to him, loves to get him right to the brink, then stare into his eyes as he comes. "Jack, please, please," Robby whispers, on the verge of tears.

"You first, sweetheart," Jack murmurs, then sinks his teeth into Robby's bottom lip, and just like that, the flash of searing pain is enough to shove Robby over the edge.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck..." Robby rides the rolling wave hard as he shoots his release all over his belly. It used to be mortifying to be seen in this state, to be looking right back and refusing to close his eyes because Jack doesn't want him to and Robby wants so fucking badly to be good for him. But not anymore. Now Jack is a beacon in what is often a dark, hazy life, and if Robby feels as though he's been thrown out of an airplane and left to free fall, at least he isn't alone. Robby lets out a sob, then pulls Jack in for hungry kisses. The moment their lips touch, Jack groans and joins him, their cum smearing together on their bodies.

They stay just like that for what feels like hours, panting, petting each other's sides and back. Their lips move together languidly. Wrapped up in each other's arms like this, there is no reason to run away. Neither of them are on call. They get to fall asleep together without the fear of being yanked away. It's only when their bodies begin to cool that Robby grunts. Jack pulls away, feeling as though he's tearing their skin apart, and Robby huffs and tries to drag him back in.

"Gimme a sec, will you?" Jack asks, laughing. Robby settles for coming up on his elbows so he can watch him. He admires him physically, yes—still to this day thinks that he should bounce a quarter off of his ass—but there is so much more right beneath the surface that has been churned up. Robby had long ago rearranged his furniture in the entire apartment so that there never had to be a moment when Jack wouldn't have something to support himself on, but Jack only needs to hop a few steps before he snags a towel, then throws it back to the bed. "No, don't touch it."

Robby flops back down. "I'm cold," he complains.

"And I'll take care of it, you big baby." Jack climbs back into bed. He drags the towel over and begins to mop up the mess on Robby's belly. With the utmost care, he wipes their cocks clean. There is a sense of wonder welling up within Robby as he studies Jack's delicate eyelashes, the certain way he purses his lips when he's concentrating. He's so fucking handsome. And Robby is the only one who has him in his bed.

Jack takes a deep breath, pauses, then sighs it all out in a rush.

"What?" Robby touches his face. "What's up?"

"Nothing, it just..." Jack meets his gaze. With another huff, he jerks his head down and redoubles his cleaning efforts on his own body. "My therapist and I have been working on me actually asking for things that I want."

"Oh?"

"Mm. Apparently it's not healthy to be constantly trying to give other people what they need and ignoring myself, or some shit." He clears his throat. After he tosses the towel aside, he rests a hand over Robby's heart once again. "So...here goes, I guess."

Robby blinks up at him. Something is coming. Something that's making his body lighter with hope.

Jack looks at him one more time. "Do you wanna maybe go grab a bite to eat sometime?"

As though a switch has been flipped, Robby begins to smile and finds that he can't stop. "What, like a..."

"Like a fucking date, yeah." Though Jack seems to try and play at being dismissive, the way he rubs the blanket between his fingers puts a spotlight on his nerves.

Things can't stay like this. It is an inescapable fact that they would hit this fork in the road where they have to decide whether they split ways or if they hold hands and journey into the unknown together. A week ago, Robby would've said he was taking the solo path. Hell, maybe even a day ago. But he can't lie to himself anymore. He wants this and he wants it bad. Wants to see what it'll feel like when he's put his heart back in working order and can discern what it's like to fall in love all over again.

Robby drags him down for a quick kiss. "Take me out tomorrow night."

Jack's brows shoot up. "Really?" he asks breathlessly. "You're, you're not shitting me or anything, like, you're saying that because you mean it. Right?"

"Yes, Jack, I mean it," Robby murmurs back patiently, beaming.

Jack opens his mouth. Closes it. Rubs the back of his neck. "Wow. I wasn't expecting it to be that easy."

"Oh, it won't be, trust me. I expect five-star dining, pampering."

Jack nods thoughtfully. "Well, consider it done."

Robby starts to sit up. "Hey, that part, I was kidding about."

"Too late." Jack shoves him back down, then drapes his body over Robby's like a weighted blanket. "I was gonna do that anyway," he drawls, lips quirking.

"Do I get to pamper you?" The moment the words are out, Jack turns his head, and Robby chuckles as he bobs his head, chasing him, forcing him to look him in the eye. Let Jack see how it feels.

Jack heaves a beleaguered sigh. "...yeah, okay, sure, I guess."

Without another word, Robby grabs the nape of his neck and begins massaging the tired muscles.

A particularly sinful moan escapes Jack. He leans into his touch like a cat. "Shit. Fuck, that's good."

"Yeah, well, get used to it," Robby murmurs, still grinning. He's an emergency specialist. He knows more than just about anyone how uncertain the future can be. But right now he is thunderously, incandescently happy, filled to the brim with sunshine, and he swears to himself that he won't let it go that easily. Not this time.

[alfea]

here’s some questions to ask

if you could change your height, would you?

what’s something that happened years ago that you’re still mad about?

what was your favourite musician/band when you were ten?

do you like sparkling water?

what’s the last album you listened to?

do you wear flip flops?

what time do you usually wake up in the morning?

if you could choose one language to instantly be fluent in, which one would you pick?

how long have you had your tumblr blog?

what was your dream job as a child and is it anything like your current job?

did you usually have a cafeteria lunch or a packed lunch in school?

do you pop your pimples?

if you could choose one celebrity/public figure to erase from history, who would it be?

how old were you when you first used youtube?

what was your first ever anime?

were you more into disney channel, nickelodeon, cartoon network, or pbs kids as a child?

if you could redo one year of high school, would you? and if so, which one?

if you could make one fictional character real, who would it be?

what video game have you put the most time into?

do you like doing jigsaw puzzles?

what’s your favourite dog breed?

do you prefer scented or unscented lotion?

were/are you a theater kid? if so, what’s your favourite play or musical?

do you collect anything unusual?

what’s your ideal weather and/or temperature?

would you rather take three five year olds or one fifteen year old in a fight?

how long did you live at your last address?

what’s your favourite sandwich?

have you ever had surgery?

what’s your least favourite pokemon?

do you have any accessories that you wear every day?

do you have plushies on your bed?

what’s your favourite lady gaga song?

do you prefer to make your own playlists or listen to ones that others have made?

were/are you ever able to find souvenirs with your name on them?

do you own a bike? if so, how often do you ride it?

do you prefer iced coffee or iced tea?

what’s your favourite big cat species?

when was/is your golden birthday?

have you ever run a stoplight while driving? if so, was it an accident or on purpose?

what family member, immediate or otherwise, do you get along with the best?

how many times have you cried in the last week?

do you prefer barbie dolls or bratz dolls?

how many shirts do you own in your favourite colour?

do you currently live in the state/province you were born in?

would you rather have bird wings or bat wings?

are you good at swimming?

if you could pick one craft to instantly be good at, which one would it be?

do you know how to play any trading card games (pokemon, yugioh, magic the gathering, etc)?

how long was your shortest relationship?

[mintsuwu]

So true anon!!!

[k1ng-r0wan]

First request done 🫡

Feel free to send me asks with silly memes for me to recreate with these goobers! I'll hopefully be able to do them between my bigger stuff :3

[anonymousmink]

✂️Character with a different haircut

For Loki?

Long hair Loki has a special place in my heart 💚

Reblogs are loved but please don’t repost! 💚

[st-just]

🔥

\🔥 emoji

A depressingly large amount of media has this idea that Character Development means the character in question slowly sloughing off everything that was interesting or spiky or unique about themselves to better approach one of a few acceptable archetypes of Healthy and Emotionally Mature role model material and it's basically universally a downgrade.

Fandom is probably several times worse about this.

[vesna-v-irkutske]

Have you ever thought of sending a message to artyom?. You can do it through an app if you didn't know and only pay a few rubles

Yes, I thought about it, and yeah, I know about the app, but I don't think I'll ever do it. I've heard from many people that Artyom has barely been responding to letters lately, I don't know what the reason is. Maybe he ignores people (either because they said something he didn't like, or ignores them in favor of more interesting ones), maybe he gets a lot of letters and doesn't have enough time (he talked about this in mid-2023). Or maybe some letters are lost, and some, perhaps, are not shown to him? Just my guesses. Most likely, they read the letters before he receives them.

I'd ask him to tell me some funny story, preferably involving Nikita, lol. But I'd be a little careful and not overdo it (and phrase it differently), because it wouldn't look good, you know, to write to him just to get information about another person. I'd ask him something about the Evil Gnomes & Dismembered PugachOva music, if he remembers, I'm just curious. And he was in at least one other band with his friends, would probably ask something about it. Boring questions, just to be more or less sure that he'll answer them (like, sure, I could try to ask about something more juicy, but dunno, dunno). Not worth it, none of this is that important.

[nothomegal]

Apologies for not answering the asks at all lately, (Y/N) is dealing with a little... Infestation 😬

Poor baby (Y/N) already has to deal with a lot of shit on daily basis (and night). They do not have time, nor desire, to deal with some bleached kid and an eyeless guy.

[chloesimaginationthings]

My art got into a Dawko video???

[sssammich]

For supercorp 💗 🥹🥹

💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft

thanks for your patience, anon! alas, i have gone overboard once more because i cannot help myself.

ask meme

---

she's been given a mandatory month off from supergirl duties. she's not sick, she hasn't solar flared, and she's not hurting for any freelance work that requires her attention. she had simply been told that she needed to take the time off and to avoid any caped hero work unless absolutely necessary.

so that's why she's here now, without superhero work for the next thirty days. free to do whatever she wants.

after the initial shock washes over her, she places her hands on her hips and nods towards alex and j'onn. she knows exactly what she wants to do with her freedom.

"okay."

"look, before you fight th--okay?" alex stares at her, wide eyes mirroring kara's. "really?"

she shrugs, already heading towards the elevator. no need to fight the inevitable. "really."

as the elevator doors close in front of her, she can't help smirking in amusement at the identical confused expressions on both of their faces.

she has one destination in mind.

-

she knocks on the massive wooden door, though she knows she doesn't need to. it's a formality at this point considering the unrestricted access that she's been granted to enter the top floor of this condominium highrise.

still, she waits, because the anticipation is half the fun.

her face splits into an easy smile when lena opens the door to her with her own toothy grin.

"heya," she greets, stepping foot into what she calls home: within lena's arms.

"hello to you, too," lena says, swift yet careful in wrapping kara in her arms. her hands are open as they rub circles on kara's back. kara sinks further into lena's embrace, pulling lena further into her. "how are you?"

"i'm great."

lena stares into her eyes. "yeah?"

"oh yeah. i'm on vacation." she emphatically nods.

lena beams at that. "funny you say that. me too."

she quirks a brow at that, though she shouldn't be surprised. a month vacation doesn't just fall into people's laps without explanation. "yeah?"

"oh yeah," lena mimics her.

kara, still holding lena in her arms, pulls the other woman back in, the two of them swinging in place. "what a coincidence, right?"

lena throws her head back in laughter.

-

they arrive in a private villa off the coast of naples.

it's a modest hillside two bedroom house that overlooks the gulf below. when the local guide roll their suitcases for them, he unknowingly wheels lena's to one room and hers to the other. she smirks and lena tips him handsomely--enough that his olive skin tinges in embarrassment at just how much is in his hands. when their eyes meet after he leaves, they break into a giggle.

because they know the truth, despite not uttering a word of it: why bother taking up more room when right by each other's side is all the space they'll want to take.

despite the destination of her luggage, her body follows after lena to the other room, the one with the better view of the water. just as well, lena's body follows after her when they busy themselves in the kitchen to make themselves a quick dinner. when they finish, they share the hammock sitting out on the back deck, lena's head on her chest and her arms around her waist, while kara's arms wind their way in holding lena against her, their limbs tangled.

when lena yawns a few too many times, they call it a night. lena leads, their hands entwined, and they end up on lena's bed, drawing back the thin covers enough to stave off the inevitable cool night air.

-

they walk everywhere, always touching. a hand on the arm the elbow the bicep the small of her back. an arm slung over a shoulder or hooked together.

it's when they reach a destination that kara's courage grows, that lena's bravery broadens.

when they travel to the town square market as they shop for groceries that lips find their way on one another's skin; the temple the cheek the forehead.

when they treat themselves to a picnic right by a vineyard and lena is leaning back on her between her legs, lips chance on a bare and pale shoulder.

when they lounge in the hammock and lena is resting on her chest, lips chance on collarbones and behind the ears.

when they tire themselves out from full days, fuller stomachs, and fullest hearts that they are in bed and lena is facing her and their legs are tangled with one another, lips chance on entwined hands and fingers.

each one given freely, each one received gracefully.

soon, kara thinks, this will all change. especially when they cross the final threshold between them. though that's a formality at this point, all things considered.

still, she will wait until that happens, more than happy to be exactly where she is.

-

thirty days is long and short and is plenty and is not enough.

on their last day while they wait for their local guide to collect them, they stand on the corner edge of the back deck, lena in her arms as they overlook the gulf for the last time.

"i don't want to go back to work," she murmurs into lena's ear. lena twists in kara's arms until they're facing one another.

"you don't have to, if you really don't want to."

"we can move into this villa. i'll learn to fish. you can sell them at the market."

lena laughs in her arms and kara holds her tighter, like trying to capture lightning in a bottle.

"you're no good as a fisherman, sweetheart."

kara pouts because it's probably true. but she'll learn for lena.

"well, next time we're on vacation, we ought to come back."

"anything you want," lena says, her eyes dipping down to where kara's lips are.

"anything?"

lena nods, assuring, her eyes darkening. kara's smile widens and she leans forward just enough, their noses brushing.

kara is ready for what's to come. she's ready for lena.

still, she waits, because the anticipation is half the fun.

[hakusins]

don't have blog but love art is okay if draw whittney a4 sorry for english

♡ Send me a DOL Character/PC + Expression! - Deeppink-man Expression Meme (OPEN!)

Hi there!! Thank you for the request and it's alright!! Your english is just fine!!

hehehe he looks like a strawberry

[remyfire]

if you’re still taking prompts, i’ve never done something like this before + rabbot? 👀

Ahh, thank you for sending this in!! Y'all are helping me break my writer's block one prompt at a time :D Subtle Smut Starters [AO3 Crosspost]

Robby lets Jack get all the way to opening his belt—one-handed, even, which is way hotter than it should be—before the words come bubbling up. "I-I've never, uh..."

"Hmm?" Jack pulls back from where he's been sucking a hickey into Robby's trapezius, far down enough that there won't be a visible mark over his scrubs.

Robby relaxes his painfully taut muscles so he can sink into the couch. It takes a few seconds for him to catch his breath. They tick by while he stares at the ceiling, trying to remember the exact chain of events that led them here—beers and pizza crusts abandoned, TV on mute, his shirt off, Jack's solid weight bearing down on him so he's pinned to the cushions, and his mouth swollen from the sudden deluge of frantic kisses that overtook them. Robby grabs a fistful of Jack's shirt before forcing himself to meet his gaze. "It's just that I've...never done something like this before," he admits, cheeks heating to higher temperatures with each passing word.

Jack's lips quirk. "What, you've never hooked up with somebody? Too fancy for Tinder or Netflix and Chilling?"

His stomach flip-flops, pairing with his agitated heart rate, and Robby turns his face away. Stupid. He was stupid to try and talk about it. He plants both palms on Jack's chest and begins to push him off of him.

"Whoa, hey." Suddenly Jack's voice is soft. Gentle. He covers one of Robby's hands and gives his fingers a squeeze. "No, really, what are you saying?"

"Forget it."

"Michael," Jack murmurs.

Robby huffs. He sits up and rests his back against the couch arm, but he keeps his gaze skimming over the walls, framed pieces of art not grabbing his attention until he lands on the photograph on the fireplace mantel. The one of Jack maybe a decade ago—before his hair went gray—dressed to the nines in a tuxedo, smiling down at a woman in a brilliant white gown. She's beaming back at him, her arms around his neck while his hands are on her waist. He can't divine anything about her facial features from here, and for that, he's grateful. It's bad enough, aching for a widower who still wears his wedding band, but if he'd had to look straight into that woman's eyes while making out with her husband, churning guilt might've overtaken him for good.

The warmth of Jack's palm finds his cheek, and Robby's eyelids fall shut for a moment as he takes a deep breath. "I've never been with a man before. Okay?" He forces the cheeriest tone that he can manage, sunshine and rainbows coming out of his ass.

Jack's brows shoot up so fast, he's shocked they don't go through the ceiling.

"What's that look for?" Robby asks, trying not to squirm any more than he already has.

He shakes his head rapidly. "Oh, no, nothing. Just didn't expect that from you. I mean, you're the one who went and planted a wet one on me first, and...goddamn, but it was a hell of a kiss."

Robby had, in fact, done that. He doesn't know if he should lie and blame the beer or not. "I've always been the one to kiss somebody first," he says a little defensively.

"Because the man always does it?" Jack drawls.

"I didn't say that." Even though he had been thinking it. That realization smacks him in the face with an aftertaste of shame. It doesn't matter that he doesn't actually believe it. Old habits died hard.

Jack smirks, letting out a quiet, amused huff. Then for a moment, they simply watch each other, serenaded by nothing but the dulcet tones of angry car horns—the eternal charm of Pittsburgh. But then Jack runs his thumb over Robby's bottom lip and turns his stomach into jello. "Why'd you kiss me, Robby?"

Robby has the urge to suck on that digit exactly how his exes would when they wanted to drive him wild. It spooks him more than he'd like to admit. "I don't know," Robby murmurs, but when Jack purses his lips in disbelief, Robby lets the simple truth slip free. "Because I wanted to."

Jack blinks, then nods. "Okay. And what do you want to happen next?"

"I was hoping you'd know." The words are intended to bring some levity back into the conversation, but Jack's stoic expression suggests that he might've missed the mark.

Robby recognizes the thoughtful way that Jack narrows his eyes. The bastard's taking him seriously. But before Robby can distract him, Jack slips off the couch and kneels beside him. "How about I suck your cock?"

Fuck. He just comes right out about it, huh? Heat rushes south once more. "Wait, hold on a second."

"Or I could jerk you off," Jack suggests, not the least bit flustered. "If blowjobs are too fast."

"Can you just..." Robby tents his hands over his mouth and tries to think about this pragmatically. He's not a teenager. He doesn't have to throw himself at Jack and demand orgasms. But when he looks at him again, static still sweeps across the surface of his brain, threatening to short-circuit all that good sense whether he likes it or not. Jack just has that effect on him. He's always handsome even at his most severe, but the more time that they've spent together outside of work, the more spoiled Robby is, being able to see so many of Jack's smiles. They soften his face so much. Pairing it with how his voice will go breathy and quiet when they're talking about the big things—questions about the life, the universe, and such—and Robby's got a hell of a crush. He thought he'd outgrown these. He's not used to the butterflies in his stomach anymore, barely knows how to handle them.

Jack doesn't rush him, though. He stays right there on his knees, watching him steadfastly, waiting for Robby to make a decision. And that's really what puts Robby's thoughts in order. He knows what he wants. He just doesn't know how any of it works. "How many times have you done this?" Robby asks.

Jack tilts his head. "What, have sex with a man?"

"Yeah."

"Hell if I know." Jack snorts with another one of those dangerous little smirks. "First time was when I was enlisted. It was pretty easy to figure out who was up for that shit, even in the Don't Ask, Don't Tell era. Things happened. And then they kept happening. I don't know if you could call me an expert, but I'm pretty sure I could give you anything you're looking for."

"That so?" Robby asks.

Jack rests his palms on Robby's thighs and gives them a firm squeeze. "Try me."

With these few minutes to clear his head, he settles on exactly what he wants to do. The real question is if Jack will come along for the ride or if Robby's S.O.L. He turns so he's facing Jack, sits back, and lets his legs fall open, but when Jack's hands begin inching higher and higher up his legs, Robby grabs him by the wrists. "I don't know about you, Jack, but I've had plenty of blowjobs and handjobs."

"Go ahead and brag, sure," Jack drawls, eyes sparkling.

"But." Robby tugs Jack's wrists. "What I haven't done...is give any."

It's utterly fascinating to watch how Jack's dark pupils slowly, slowly begin to swell. Between them both, Robby's the one who can't keep himself from blushing from even the slightest provocation, but Jack has his tells too. The way that his lips part as he lets out a quiet but shaky sigh, for example. "Is that so?" he murmurs.

Robby nods.

"And you think that I might be a decent first candidate?"

"I wouldn't pick anybody else," Robby admits so quietly, he's surprised that Jack can hear him.

Jack turns his arms in Robby's grip so he can hold his forearms tightly. Without having to so much as think about it, Robby works together with him to pull Jack to stand—his prosthesis has been off for the entire time that Robby's been here, something that has warmth blooming in his chest. That sense of comfort. Safety. Robby might be throwing himself in the deep end here, but he means every word he says. He and Jack love to kid around, but when the chips are down, Jack takes shit seriously. And now that Jack understands the situation, he's not going to make Robby feel like a fool.

Jack cages Robby in with a hand on either side of his head and leans in until they're inches apart. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but I'm a pretty decent teacher."

Robby nods. "Half the reason why our residents turn out all right." He loves playing around with Jack. But he also loves reminding him that he is actually good at what he does. Their residents never leave the night shift without having learned something vital.

Jack blinks. His lips purse as he bobs his head back as though trying to read Robby's expression. Whatever he sees must satisfy him because he gulps and grabs his shoulders instead, giving them a squeeze. "So how about letting me walk you through it?"

A stab of anxiety invites Robby to consider his nerves with more detail, but he shoves it down without another thought. "I'd like that." They have momentum now. He's not letting them slow down unless forced.

Jack swoops in to kiss him just long enough to slip his tongue into his mouth and wrap it around Robby's, and he pulls back and leaves him panting. "Spread your legs for me?" When Robby gears up to reply, Jack murmurs, "Trust me."

What is he supposed to do but obey?

Once Robby's legs are as far apart as he can get them while still wearing his cargoes, Jack nods, then turns around and plants himself right there between his thighs. He scoots so his back's flush with Robby's chest, and because Robby isn't sure where else to put his hands, he rests them on Jack's waist. He's so warm under his shirt, positively radiating straight into Robby's bare skin. There's no reason why Robby should shiver; he does it anyway.

Jack glances over his shoulder. "All right. So here's how it's gonna work," he says roughly. "You're gonna jerk me off. It's easier this way, yeah? You've done it a million times."

"At least." Robby licks his lips. God. Okay. This is really happening. Nights spent guiltily touching himself to the sometimes confusing thoughts of what Jack might do to him, if Robby ever allowed it, are culminating in his first experience with a man. No brakes. No second guessing. Just acting on his desires, nothing else. "But I always had the sensory feedback telling me if I was doing it right," he points out.

"Your sensory feedback's gonna be me moaning." Then Jack kisses his cheek without prompting, and there it goes, that lava-hot flush flooding his face. "Hey. We do this all the time, remember? When one of us finds a new case study?"

He's not wrong. They trust each other, more than any other doctor, when it comes to demonstrating and observing new techniques that one of them has not heard of. The thing is that those situations still involve plenty of external feedback in the form of beeping machines or wounds that have stopped bleeding. Still, if nothing else, Robby must admit that this will be simpler than his first few times fumbling with somebody's pussy. He at least can conceptualize what Jack is supposed to be feeling.

Finally Robby nods. "Okay." He reaches around Jack—something that sends tingles down his spine, fuck, he feels good against him like this. He can't remember the last time he held somebody—and he begins working at his belt. Jack arches for him to make it easier. His fingers only slip twice before he's got it open, then the buttons and zipper after that. Though Jack is quiet for now, he can't hide how his breathing's picked up, not when they're pressed so tightly together.

"Have you been...into me for a while?"

So much for Jack being quiet. Robby gets his cargo pants tugged down, but he needs a moment before he goes for his boxer briefs too. He palms Jack's stomach, fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt to find the firm body underneath. "In what context?" Robby asks softly. "Are you asking if you're the first man I've realized that I'm attracted to?"

A pause. "Yeah." Which means probably not.

"No. I don't think so." It's true that he's done more double-takes over the course of his life at men who were more effeminate than macho, but he's had a sneaking suspicion for at least a decade that it wasn't just coincidence why he watched the men in porn as often as he watched the women.

"So why now?" Jack asks.

"Because... Because I don't think we want to hurt each other."

"And is that the only reason?"

Robby heaves a sigh. He rests his chin on Jack's shoulder. "I don't know, man. Because we enjoy each other? Because you're just about the most brilliant person I've ever met? What do you need to hear from me?"

"Is it because I'm convenient?" Jack finally blurts.

There go the butterflies taking wing in his stomach. The thundering of his heart. He turns his head so that his lips rest on Jack's neck, breathing him in. "You are convenient. But Tinder would be too. So would some guy on the street corner. No, it's you because I want you, Jack. If I'm gonna risk making myself look like a fool, I'd rather it be you. You're, you're not gonna avoid my calls or texts. You won't refuse to work with me. And if we do this, it's not because you're looking for something easy. You actually think I'm decent. You like me."

The clock ticks for five long silent seconds. A second never seems so long until one is waiting for a response. "I do," Jack breaks the silence to murmur. "I do like you."

Robby blinks, then lifts his head, trying to catch Jack's gaze. It's no use. Jack is staring elsewhere. And when Robby follows his eyes, he realizes that Jack is looking right at the fireplace mantel. Right where his wedding photo is. Robby clears his throat. "You still wanna do this?"

"Absolutely." No hesitation. Jack's lips quirk. "So the first thing you're gonna wanna do is take me out of my boxers."

"Oh, fuck you," Robby says sweetly, which makes Jack shake against him as he laughs. Robby shakes his head, disgustingly fond, and slides his fingers slowly, slowly down Jack's belly. Goosebumps spring up beneath his touch. "Mm. You're ready for me, huh?"

"Shit," Jack whispers. He doesn't say another word, but he tips his head back and bites his bottom lip.

"No more clever commentary?" Robby teases. His fingertips are so sensitive that when he runs over Jack's waistband, he has to pull his hand away until they stop burning and tingling.

Jack takes a breath, pauses, then huffs it out. He does this two more times before he shakes his head. "Man, I've got nothing."

Robby chuckles. In all honesty, he's flattered. Both of them are private people who are taken to long silences, but this feels like a different kind of quiet. This is Jack wanting his touch so badly that he's lost their easy thread of banter. And it only seems fair to take full advantage of it. Maybe there are some other pretty noises he can get this fellow to make.

There nowhere to go but in. So in he goes. Robby shakily inhales as he runs his fingers through Jack's soft pubic hair, as curly as what's on his head, then pauses when he hits the silky smooth skin of his cock. "Like this?" he whispers.

"Take me out of them," Jack replies, though not unkindly or impatiently. "Wanna see what your hand looks like around me."

He absolutely agrees. His other hand tugs the boxer briefs down little by little until Jack's hardness comes into view. When he bounces free from them, it curves invitingly. He's got a damn nice specimen of a cock. It's not a surprise, but it still warrants a few moments of Robby's time to appreciate it visually. It's less thick than Robby's, though he imagines they're around the same length. There are a few freckles scattered over it. It's uncut, too, which immediately draws Robby's curiosity—and a little bit of anxiety. "Uh, before we...do anything, I need to know, ah, what's the best way to..." There is no more elegant way to ask. "...stimulate your foreskin?"

Though he expects it, Jack doesn't laugh at him. He actually bucks his hips slightly instead. "Fuck. Stretch it. Like..." Jack takes himself in hand and works the foreskin up and down his glans. It only takes a few strokes before wetness is beading at his tip.

He's not going to figure it out until he tries. Robby doesn't waste another second before he grabs the base of Jack's cock and slowly runs his loosely circled fingers down, down, down, until he knocks Jack's hand away. His cock feels as though it has molten lava right beneath the surface, so hot in his grasp. And from the way that Jack groans as Robby reaches his tip, he has a feeling that he might be doing this right.

Robby cocks his head, studying intently. He kind of wishes he had grabbed his glasses before he started so that he could see every detail of what he's doing. It's fascinating to watch Jack's glans peeking out with each pass of Robby's fist. He doesn't mean to almost pinch the skin closed once he's stretched it far over Jack's tip, but Jack grabs his thighs and moans, raw and hungry, and that doesn't exactly seem like a request for him to stop.

"You like it here?" Robby breathes, making tiny pumps right at his head.

"Perfect," Jack whispers back. "Holy shit, Robby, you're a natural."

The praise shouldn't light him up as much as it does. He keeps his touch predictable for a few more moments, but eventually he can't stop his other hand from sliding down to palm Jack's heavy balls.

"Fuuuuuck..." Jack's mouth falls open as he stares unblinkingly as how Robby plays with him.

"That good?" Robby murmurs. He doesn't need an answer. Not when Jack's digging his fingers into Robby's legs hard enough to leave bruises behind. Curious, Robby draws all the way back to his base, then catches his breath at the sight of Jack's unsheathed cock, all of his veins on full display. Jack's throbbing in his hand, he realizes, and the thought makes Robby buck against his back with a quiet moan of his own.

Jack gasps. "You're hard?" He rocks backward and sends pleasure shooting through him. "Jesus. You feel huge. How thick are you?"

"Maybe you'll get to find out." When Jack repeats the movement, Robby locks an arm around his waist and keeps him as still as he can. "You wanna feel it that bad? Fine." He shifts his weight so he can get better leverage, then grinds against Jack's back. "Oh, fuck..."

"You're gonna come in your pants, aren't you, big guy?"

Robby does not dignify that with a response.

What Robby didn't expect is how vocal Jack is. The longer that Robby jerks him off, the more and more emphatic Jack's sounds become. Moans. Gasps. Growls. Swears. Every single one of them is lethal. Having them all fed to Robby one right after the other, though, is going to kill him. It's when he hears what is unmistakably a whimper as Robby slows and loosens his grip that Robby knows he needs to make him come. Now.

Robby bucks against his back harder, grunting rhythmically as he picks up the pace, focusing all of his attention on Jack's first couple of inches. "Oh, God, Robby..." Jack reaches behind him and slides his fingers through Robby's hair, then cups the back of his head. Robby scarcely knows what comes over him. He's just hungry. He descends on Jack's throat with suckling kisses and licks, growling with satisfaction when Jack tips his head to give him more access. He can feel how Jack's trying to move his hips, but whether he likes it or not, he's trapped right here, right where Robby wants him.

A thought occurs to him. He presses his lips to Jack's ear. "Beg me."

Jack needs a second before he can reply. "Fuck, fuck, wh-what for?"

"Beg to fuck my fist."

"Shit..." Jack shudders from head to toe. "Let me fuck your fist, huh?"

"Do better."

"Bastard," he hisses. But he quickly follows it with desperation. "Please, please, c'mon, need to fuck your fist so goddamn bad, Robby."

Because he can't wait another second, Robby releases his waist, and Jack keens, beginning to buck into his grasp hard and fast. He must want it more than Robby thought, if he's managing with only his foot and his grip on Robby's thighs for leverage. Robby keeps his grasp around his cock tight. Watches with smoldering fascination as Jack splatters arousal with every few thrusts. He's dizzied by this man. How the hell is he supposed to go even a day without getting to have him like this?

Jack sucks in a sharp gasp. "Oh, fuck, Robby, I'm close—"

"Come for me," Robby immediately replies, returning to rapidly jerking him off. Not so much as a full second passes before Jack's crying out and letting go. His lashes of cum splatter on the couch, the floor, even the coffee table, and it's all so fucking hot that Robby's brain starts boiling in his skull. He has no idea what overtakes him. But the second Jack's finished, Robby grabs him by the hips. "Want you on your front."

Jack responds without hesitation, twisting so he can flop face first on the couch. Before he can so much as peer over his shoulder, Robby's on top of him, slotting his hips against his bare ass and grinding against him. "Yeah, yeah, just like that, Robby," Jack says on a growl. "Fuck me, fuck me."

Robby groans as he pulls at the neckline of Jack's shirt so he can sink his teeth into his trapezius and suck a matching mark into his skin. The couch squeals as he bucks his hips, so keyed up that he can't stop. He feels like a teenager again. Like he and Jack are in the back of his car in the dead of night. He squeezes his eyes shut and gets the image of bending Jack over the hood so he can pound him, and like a depth change, he's suddenly coming with a sharp moan. He pins Jack there, teasing out every last bit of pleasure that he can, filling his pants with a hot stickiness that feels incredibly satisfying in the moment.

It's fantastic for around ten seconds. And then it's disgusting.

"Goddammit," Robby breathes with a weak laugh. "Okay. You were right. And may I please borrow a pair of sweatpants?"

"What's your hurry?" Jack's voice is raw, wrecked, even though all Robby did was jerk him off. He begins to wriggle, so Robby lifts up enough so Jack can roll onto his back. He's flushed, one cheek rubbed especially red from being dragged against the couch cushion. Robby hadn't realized he'd been grinding on him with that level of intensity. "Gotta take off so soon?"

Robby meets Jack's gaze. "...you don't mind if I stick around?"

"You're asking the guy who was just begging for you to fuck him if he wants you around for a while longer?" Jack quirks a brow.

Robby can't help but grin. He looks away and rubs the back of his neck. "It's not gonna kill me to check in first, is it?"

"Stay." Jack tugs at one of his belt loops, wearing a languid smile of his own. "Y'know, I happen to have a nice, hot shower with spectacular water pressure. If your arm's too tired, I could give you a hand in there."

He gets to see Jack naked? Every inch of him? Wet? Soapy? Robby actually loses his ability to speak.

Jack's smile softens. Utter fondness radiates off of him, almost palpable. All at once, Robby wonders if Jack's been nursing something for him just as long. Maybe longer. "I'll take that as a yes?" Jack asks. He reaches up to run the back of his knuckles over Robby's cheek.

"It is," Robby barely manages to eke out. He clears his throat and swallows. "But...maybe not right this second?"

Without another word, Jack grabs his arm and tugs him down so Robby's full weight is sinking into him. They groan simultaneously. Robby has the feeling that he's going to have to fight tooth and nail not to pass out right the fuck here. Even still, he's not going anywhere. Not a goddamn chance.

[zu-is-here]

Dream what do you like more your husband cross or peppermint candy?