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debbiechanclub · 4 years

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Best Two Out of Three, Part 10

I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS PART 10! Have we even been doing this a month, @what-does-mine-say? Anyway, I was going to wait a little while longer to post this because I feel like I’m spoiling you all (jk jk, I love spoiling you because you spoil me), but I’m too excited. I love this part. There’s so much tension and just - unf. Also, don’t worry, @lancearcherinrippedjeans - I haven’t forgotten about dear Chuckie. It will be addressed :)

Best Two Out of Three

Part: 10/26

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x Cash Wheeler and Adam Page x OFC

Warnings: Alcohol use, language, angst

Word Count: 4.5k

Catch up on previous parts here.

Alex rummaged through her walk-in closet, trying to decide what to wear to Adam and Callie’s cookout. She’d decided to go, after all. If nothing else, she needed a distraction.

Kenny hadn’t gotten back to the hotel room until after 1 a.m. on Friday. Alex had stayed up waiting for him until the anxiety of it had become too much, so she’d taken a hot shower to calm her nerves and gone to bed. He’d woken her up as he’d crawled in beside her and pulled her close, nuzzling her neck as he’d apologized for not returning sooner. It’d taken a long time for her to fall back asleep after that, her mind racing with the day’s events all over again. In the morning, she’d woken him up with kisses and climbed on top of him, riding him deep and slow. Looking for the reassurance she hadn’t gotten the day before. It had worked in the moment. But it hadn’t lasted.

“No, no, definitely not,” she said as she went through each piece of clothing. She didn’t like the look of anything today. It was going to be hot—it was summer in Virginia, after all—and she wanted to look cute but still casual. She got to her dresses and frowned; she didn’t want to wear a dress. But then she remembered: she’d bought a romper not that long ago. She moved a little bit further down and pulled it off the rack. It was a pretty sage green color with a spaghetti strap V-neck and decorative buttons down the front. Perfect, she thought.

She pulled it on and looked in the full-length mirror on the closet door, satisfied. That was one thing down. Now she needed to decide on shoes. She moved over to where she kept her sandals—but a pair of strappy espadrille wedges caught her eye. She picked them up and set them on the carpet, sliding her feet in and buckling the straps at the ankles. She went back over to the mirror. The wedges combined with the short hem of the romper made her legs look a mile long. She smirked, feeling good; but then she worried at her lip. Will I be taller than Cash if I wear these?

She stopped, staring at her reflection with wide, surprised eyes. “Oh my God, I’m trying to look good for Cash,” she realized aloud.

Her phone chirped from her bed, interrupting her thoughts. She walked over and picked it up. She had a text from Adam.

Have you left yet or are you running late like usual?

She pursed her lips as she typed up a response. Give me 30 minutes. I’ll tell you my ETA once I’m out the door.

She threw her phone back on the bed and went back to getting ready, trying not to think about Cash.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Me, Adam, Cash, Dax, Alex,” Callie repeated to herself as she made sure she had enough of everything for the cookout. “One for luck. Maybe two for luck…” she said as she counted out steaks for the grill. She’d just started to season them when Adam snuck up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said as he kissed her cheek. “It really means a lot to me.”

“Well, this isn’t all for Alex’s benefit.” She turned in his grasp and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling up at him. “I don’t want Cash and Dax thinking I don’t know how to look after my man.”

He let out a laugh. “Trust me, once they see the amount of beer and whiskey we have, they won’t doubt you for a second.” He glanced at the salad bowl on the kitchen island and tried to snatch a tomato, but Callie smacked his hand.

“Would you stop eating everything? Go buy the booze.”

Adam held his hands up in surrender. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and Callie smirked as he grabbed his keys and went out the door.

She continued prepping for the party, gathering all the ingredients to mix up a batch of her favorite cocktail. As she opened a cabinet to grab a pitcher, she heard car tires crunching up the gravel in the driveway. She glanced curiously out the window, thinking maybe Adam had forgotten something; but her face fell at the sight of a familiar dark green Jeep Wrangler. Alex.

Callie went back to mixing up the pitcher, quietly bracing herself, wishing that Dax and Cash had been the first to arrive instead. She heard the car door close, and a few seconds later Alex let herself in.

“Hey,” she greeted when she saw Callie in the kitchen. She glanced around, obviously looking for Adam. “Where’s Adam?”

Callie tried not to roll her eyes. “He’s out getting the alcohol. He shouldn’t be long.” She didn’t feel the need to open with niceties; she and Alex weren’t friends. “You can just put your bag wherever for now. Adam will show you your room when he gets back.”

Alex put her bag down next to the couch in the living room. After that, she wasn’t sure what to do. She awkwardly smoothed out her romper as she stood in the space between the living room and the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?” she offered just to say something.

Callie didn’t even bother to turn away from mixing up the cocktail as she answered. “No, I’m good. Everything’s under control.”

Alex rolled her eyes behind her back. But Adam had asked her to try; so, for his sake, she was going to do her best. “What’re you making?”

There was a pause before Callie answered. “Well, you all have your favorite drinks, so I thought I’d make mine.” She took the pitcher and carried it back to the sliding door that lead out to the backyard. Alex hurried after to help open the door. “Thanks,” Callie begrudgingly said.

“What is it?” Alex curiously asked.

“Sex on the Beach,” Callie returned as she set the pitcher on a serving table they’d set up on the patio. She smiled, briefly forgetting that she didn’t like Alex. “It’s my go-to cocktail.”

Alex’s eyebrows arched. “I don’t think I’ve had one of those since college,” she commented. “They’re good, though,” she hastily added. Callie just pursed her lips.

They fell into awkward silence again. Alex looked around the backyard; they’d certainly gone all out for this cookout. The serving table was already laden with a pitcher of sweet tea, fruit salad, tortilla chips, and a large bowl of homemade bean dip to snack on. The patio table and chairs sat underneath a shaded pergola decorated with string lights, which was a new addition since the last time Alex had been there. She tried to remember when that was. Before Adam had started dating Callie, she realized.

Callie went back inside without a word. Alex blinked, unsure if she should stay outside or follow her back in; but, remembering the way Callie had told her she had everything under control, she decided to just stay out of her way. So, with nothing else to do, she took a seat at the table, pulled out her phone, and started to scroll through Twitter. It was only a few minutes when Adam rounded the corner of the house in the backyard, carrying two cases of beer and a bag of liquor looped around his wrist. Alex jumped up when she saw him.

“Thank God you’re back. It’s been like talking to a wall.”

He gave her a look as he set everything down on the patio. “She’s trying, Alex,” he returned. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course.” She reached up to give him a hug. He looked her over as they pulled apart.

“Who’re you all dressed up for?”

Her face flushed. “This is not dressed up,” she insisted.

He smirked. “Uh huh.”

She whacked his shoulder just as Callie returned from the kitchen, carrying the salad bowl in her hands. She shot them a look. “That was quick,” she commented.

Adam nodded. “Where’s the cooler?”

“Over there,” she answered with a nod toward where the cooler sat on the ground next to the serving table. Adam opened a case of beer and started transferring cans into the ice. He stopped to offer one to Alex.

“Want one?”

She gave him a flat look. “You’re offering me a warm beer? The hell is wrong with you, Hangman?”

He smirked again. “There’s a few cold ones in the fridge. Go help yourself.”

Alex didn’t need to be told twice. She went back inside and made a beeline for the fridge. She didn’t want to get drunk tonight—the last thing she needed was for Mariposa to make another appearance—but she needed to take the edge off; especially when she heard Adam give a shout from the backyard.

“What’s up, guys!”

Alex froze. Cash and Dax had arrived.

“Alex is in the kitchen,” he continued. “Dump your stuff inside and I’ll show you around in a bit.”

“Shit, shit, shit,” Alex muttered to herself. She paced around the kitchen, unsure what to do, her heart already hammering in her chest. Why am I nervous? I should not be nervous; I’m with Kenny. Sort of. But all her thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she saw Callie walk into the kitchen followed by Dax and Cash.

“Hey, Alex!” Dax greeted as he and Cash set down their bags. “So you decided to come after all?”

“Yeah—oh,” she was briefly caught off-guard when he walked over and gave her a hug. “I figured why not? Adam always puts on a good time.”

“So he claims,” Dax returned. “We’ll be the judge of that.”

She gave a small laugh—and then her eyes connected with Cash’s. He looked her up and down as he walked over. “You look great,” he said, and he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug. Alex’s entire body heated as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Fuck, he smells good.

“Thanks,” she said. He lingered a second longer before pulling back. She didn’t mind at all.

“Is that your Wrangler out front?” he asked.

“Oh,” she bashfully pushed her hair behind her ear. “Yeah.”

He nodded in appreciation. “That’s a nice car.”

She blushed again. “Thanks. I think so, too.”

The kitchen fell quiet, and Alex and Cash suddenly realized that Callie and Dax were staring at them. Alex took a sip of her beer to cool herself down. It didn’t work.

“Well,” Callie started with a look at Dax, “would you help me take the rest of this outside?”

“Absolutely.” He grabbed the platter of steaks while she rounded up the utensils for the grill, and soon Cash and Alex were left alone in the kitchen. Alex cursed Callie in her head; she’d probably done that on purpose.

“I’m glad you came,” Cash said into the silence. And then he quickly added, “I mean, it’s good we can all hang out.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so too.” Their eyes met again, and Alex reflexively bit her lip. The way he was looking at her made her feel some type of way—and she needed to leave. “Well, I’m gonna go see if Adam needs a hand with anything.” She flashed a smile and walked past him back toward the backyard, drawing in a deep breath as she went. She was in trouble, and she knew it.

* * * * * * * * * *

A little while later, everyone sat around the table eagerly digging into their food, country music playing lowly in the background. Alex was trying her best not to embarrass herself while eating her corn on the cob, which felt like an impossible task sitting next to Cash. She had a feeling it had been Adam’s doing seating them together. She could tell by the way he’d smirked at her when she’d sat down.

“Well, no one’s talking so it must be good,” Adam commented.

“It’s really good,” Cash complimented as Dax nodded. “Thanks for having us over, man.”

“Yeah, thanks for cooking the steaks, Adam,” Alex said. And then she added, “And thanks for doing everything else, Callie.”

“Whoa!” Adam proclaimed. “I also got the booze.”

Alex let out a laugh. “Callie made booze!” she argued. It took Callie by surprise. Was she actually being… nice?

“You’re welcome, Alex. And thank you for noticing; I did do everything else,” Callie commented with a smirk at Adam.

He sarcastically shook his head. “Just take all the credit, why don’t you.”

“Oh, stop complaining,” she returned. “I’ll do you later, too.”

Alex snorted while Cash nearly did a spit take of his beer. Adam’s eyebrows arched. “Well, yeehaw,” he said as he raised his drink.

“And on that note,” Dax segued, “how far are you from here, Alex?”

Alex had to compose herself from laughing at Adam’s reaction before she could answer. “I’m about two hours from here. It’s actually a really nice drive.”

“Where is that you live, again?” Cash asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

She bit her lip. “I’m in Roanoke.”

He nodded, remembering. “Oh yeah, I’ve been through there. I didn’t see much of it, but it seemed nice.”

“It is,” she nodded. “It’s quiet, in the mountains. I don’t know; it’s where I’m from and I never saw any reason to leave.”

“Can’t say I blame you. Sounds like my kinda place,” he said. Alex took a sip of her beer to hide her blush.

“You’re not too far from Asheville either, right?” Adam asked, a sly grin on his face. Alex sent him a look. It was obvious what he was doing, but she answered anyway.

“No. It’s only about two hours from Asheville, too.”

“Hm,” Adam smirked between her and Cash. “Well how about that?”

Alex bit down on her jaw. She wasn’t going to play into Adam’s charade. “Well, you in live in Florida now though, don’t you?” she said to Cash.

He nodded. “Yeah. I’m in Orlando.”

“Still,” Adam insisted. “You two aren’t from that far from each other.”

Cash smirked to himself as he looked down at his plate. It was blatantly obvious to the entire table what Adam was doing now. So obvious, that Callie cleared her throat.

“Hey Alex, will you help me mix up another pitcher?” She sent her a meaningful look as she picked up the nearly empty cocktail pitcher and stood from the table. Alex was both surprised and confused by the offered lifeline, but she took the hint and followed her into the house. As soon as they were gone, Cash looked at Adam.

“What’re you doing, Adam?”

Dax smirked. “I think he’s trying to be your wingman.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Adam returned. “I thought you said you wanted to get to know Alex better?”

“I do,” Cash started; but then he stopped, frustrated. “Isn’t there something going on with her and Kenny?”

“Kenny ain’t here,” Dax quipped with a drink of his beer. It earned a smirk from Adam.

“I don’t know what’s going on with her and Kenny. I don’t think Alex even knows,” Adam answered. “But I’ll tell you this—she sure as hell didn’t get all dressed up for me today.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex stood just inside the back door, eavesdropping on the conversation taking place outside. She’d started to slide the door closed when she’d heard Cash ask Adam what he was doing; and because she wanted to hear what she had to say for himself, she’d left just enough of a crack in the door so that she could listen as she stood hidden from view. Her stomach went all warm and tingly when she heard Cash confirm that he wanted to get to know her better. She was in trouble, alright. Deep, deep trouble.

“What’re you doing?” Callie suddenly asked.

Alex jumped and slid the door completely shut. “Nothing. Let’s go make that pitcher,” she said as she walked quickly past her toward the kitchen.

“Were you listening to their conversation?” Callie asked. She sounded surprisingly excited about it. “What were they talking about? Or who?” she slyly added.

Alex stopped and turned around to face her. There was a confused expression on her face. “Okay, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know how else to ask this so; why are you suddenly acting like you’re my friend?”

Alex expected Callie to answer with a roll of her eyes and some snide comment like usual. But much to her surprise, she frowned. “Look, Adam cares a lot about you, and I love him. It took me awhile to realize that what you two have is just friendship, and I’m sorry for that. So we don’t have to be friends… but I’m trying for his sake.”

Alex stood there in silence, floored by Callie’s response. She could tell from the look on her face that she wasn’t just saying that—she actually meant it. “Well, thank you. I want to try for his sake, too.”

Callie nodded. “And besides,” she added. “I’ll admit I’m a bit of a romantic… and I’ve seen the way you and Cash have been looking at each other ever since he got here.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “The way we’ve been looking at each other?”

“Yes!” she proclaimed. “You know he likes you, right? He was upset when he found out you left Britt’s party with Kenny. He tried to act like it didn’t bother him… but it definitely did.”

Alex uncomfortably rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly feeling hot again. How did Cash even know she’d left Britt’s party with Kenny? Who’d told him that? Adam?

“And judging by your reaction right now… I think it’s pretty obvious you like him, too,” Callie smirked.

Alex’s brow furrowed. Part of her knew she did, too. But she didn’t want to admit it. “I think I’ll take one of those cocktails now.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The sun had gone down and the temperature with it, making it a perfect night to sit drinking around the fire pit. Alex had switched back to beer after just one of Callie’s cocktails. It probably wasn’t the best idea in the world, but the girl had mixed those pitchers stiff; and again, Mariposa did not need to make another appearance tonight. Especially not with how sexy Cash looked in the firelight right now.

Alex had caught herself staring at him more than once ever since her conversation with Callie in the kitchen. After she’d poured herself a drink, she’d texted Kenny before going back outside, hoping he’d remind her why he was the one she wanted. But his responses had been few and far between. Eventually, when Adam made a comment about how she was paying more attention to her phone than the company, she’d tossed it back inside with her things. Now, as she sat next to Cash on one of the patio couches around the firepit, Kenny was the furthest thing from her mind. She subconsciously bit her lip as she looked him over. Mariposa didn’t need to come out for her to want to do bad things to him.

He looked at her and she flushed. He smirked. It was obvious she’d been staring. “You want another drink?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“What’s your poison?” he asked as he pushed himself up.

You, she thought. But she said, “I should probably stick with beer.”

He gave her a roguish grin. “What’s the fun in ‘probably’?” he returned as he walked toward the drinks. Alex bit her lip again. Fuck.

“Alex was right,” Dax suddenly said from where he sat in a chair on the other side of the fire. She’d almost forgotten anyone else was outside. “You know how to host a good time, Adam.”

“Thank you, sir,” Adam raised his glass from where he and Callie sat cuddled up on the other couch. “You and Cash are welcome back any time.”

“You sure your tag team partner won’t have an issue with that?” Dax quipped.

Adam shrugged. “If he does—fuck ‘em.” He sent Alex a meaningful look across the fire. She glanced away. No matter how confused she was feeling, she wished he’d give the you shouldn’t be with Kenny thing a rest.

“Here you go.” Cash returned and handed her a beer. She arched a brow as she took it.

“I thought there wasn’t any fun in ‘probably’?

“I’m a gentleman, Alex,” he said as he sat back down next her—closer than he’d been before. “At least until you ask me not to be.”

Alex’s breath hitched in her throat. FUCK.

There must have been something in the air, because over on the other couch Callie ran a finger down Adam’s chest. She smirked up at him. “I’m ready for the rodeo, cowboy.”

Adam’s eyebrows arched. “Well, we’re gonna call it a night,” he said as he hastily downed the rest of his whiskey. “Y’all stay out here as long as you want; the fire will burn itself out.” He jumped up and pulled Callie with him; but before he could drag her into the house, she sent Alex and Cash a smirk.

“There’s blankets in there,” she said with a nod at the storage ottoman in front of the couch where they’d been sitting. “You know, if you want to get comfortable.”

Alex shook her head as Callie disappeared back inside with Adam. That hadn’t been subtle at all.

“I think I’m gonna call it, too,” Dax said as pushed himself up from the chair. Just like Callie had, he gave them a crooked grin as he passed. “You two have fun.”

He went back inside, leaving Alex and Cash alone with nothing but the crackle of the fire and the sound of the cicadas singing in the night.

Alex looked down at her beer, her heart hammering in her chest already. She could see Cash looking at her out of the corner of her eye. “Are you cold?” he asked.

She nodded. “A little, actually. Yeah,” she honestly answered.

He stood and walked over to the ottoman and pulled out a fluffy cream colored fleece blanket. When he returned, he sat down and draped it over his lap. “Come here,” he motioned with his head for her to join him under the blanket. Alex hesitated—but she slid across the cushions as he lifted his arm for her to tuck herself against his side. He pulled her close, and she placed her head on his chest and let out a contented hum. She wasn’t sure what was going on with her and Kenny. But this? This felt right.

“So, I overheard something today,” she said as she watched the flames grow lower in the fire pit.

“Oh yeah?” Cash asked as he stroked his thumb back and forth across her bare arm. Goosebumps prickled over her skin. He drew her closer.

“Mmhm. And Adam’s right—I didn’t get all dressed up for him today.”

She looked up at him. He brushed her hair away from her face. “What’s the deal with you and Kenny?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she honestly answered. “What’s the deal here?”

He smirked. “I don’t know. But I like you. I want to spend more time with you. And maybe I’m wrong... but I feel like you feel the same.”

Alex sat up. Cash brought his arm around her waist, and she looked into his eyes as she placed her hand behind his head, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. She felt him shiver against her. “I do,” she said. “I felt that way at the party last week. I’ve felt that way all day today. And even though I left the party with Kenny… if I’d had the choice, I know would’ve left with you.”

Cash brought his other hand to her hip. Alex leaned into his touch, wanting him to feel her. “Trust me, I didn’t want you leaving with anyone else that night,” he said. “But I’d had a lot to drink, too. And when I take you home, I want to be able to treat you right.”

Her stomach fluttered at his choice of words. “When?”

“When,” he returned.

Heat rose in Alex’s core. It was a struggle not to straddle him right then and there.

“Mm,” he hummed as his eyes fell closed. “And if you don’t stop playing with my hair like that, when might be tonight.”

She didn’t stop. “You promise?”

“Alex,” he grinned as he gently removed her hand from behind his neck, still holding her close. “Trust me, there’s nothing I want more right now than to take you inside and throw you on the bed in the guest room. But I don’t want either of us to go behind Kenny’s back.”

Alex calmed down a bit then. He was right. She didn’t want to go behind Kenny’s back, either. But the thought of telling him how she felt about Cash left a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Come on,” Cash said. “We should go to bed before we get in trouble.”

He stood up and offered her his hand. She took it, and he laced their fingers together as he led her back into the house. It was too soon before they arrived at the guest bedroom where she was sleeping. Alex turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around her waist, holding her tight against his body in the darkened hallway. Alex hummed again, taking in his scent. It felt different in Cash’s arms than it did in Kenny’s. Deeper. Realer.

“Stay with me,” she said. “I want to sleep cuddled up with you tonight.”

He laughed softly against her. “Sweetheart, there’s no way I could just cuddle with the way you’re making me feel.”

Butterflies exploded in Alex’s stomach. She wanted to hear him call her “sweetheart” a million times over.

He unwound his arms from her waist and looked into her eyes as he brought his hands to cup her face. He leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek. “Sleep good,” he said in her ear. As he pulled away, he took her hand in his again, and they held onto each other’s fingers for as long as they could as he backed down the hall. And as she watched him disappear around the corner toward where he was sleeping, Alex knew she needed to talk to Kenny.

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owen-jackson · 6 years

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The Lounge | Jackson&Icarus

Location: Slave’s Lounge

Summary: Icarus comes to find Jackson in the lounge, and some rather sexy R rated things happen, which are followed by some very unintentional cute moments that I’m sure neither of them will ever admit to.

@icarus-elwood

Icarus: When Icarus first received that drunken text, he read it, laughed over it, sent a quick reply and then forgot about it, going back to whatever he'd been doing that night. But then as time went on, his gaze kept drifting to his phone, until finally he'd had enough. Jackson had mentioned earlier that morning where he'd been planning to spend his night, when he came over to remake that iced tea he'd drank- it made it easy to flag him down. Sure enough, Icarus ambled into the lounge (?) and there he was. "So I guess you really aren't dying, huh?"

Jackson: Jackson, after finishing the better part of his bottle of alcohol from earlier in the evening, and a pretty mild game of strip or dare, he found himself stretched out on the couch, in the empty lounge, bottle in a hand that hung over the side of the couch, about 1/4 of it left. The voice makes his closed eyes lazily blink open, his head tilting to look up towards the doorway behind him, a crooked grin spreading on his lips. "Not as far as I know." He says, words mildly slurred. He pushes himself up slightly, shifting to look at Icarus properly. "Out for a late night stroll, are we?"

Icarus: "Something like that," he shrugged, hands tucked into the front pockets of his joggers as he wandered further into the room, clearly in no rush. "Figured I'd get some air, somehow wound up here- what are the odds, right?" he asked, smirking. "So, do you win something for being the last man standing or something?"

Jackson: Jackson tucks the bottle in his hand between two of the couch cushions, giving a small little nod, a bemused grin on his face. "What are the odds..." He muses, knowing he'd mentioned earlier that morning where he tended to end up most evenings. Jackson gives a lazy look around, eyes blinking slowly, as if he'd just noticed he was all alone. "Well look at that, guess I am last man standing, or sitting... not much to win other than the peace and quiet of an empty lounge where there's no one snoring or crying."

Icarus: Icarus looked around as well- he hadn't been to the lounge yet, didn't even think to try it. He'd been meaning to though, especially after hearing Jackson talk about it so often. Coming to a stop at the couch the other man was on, Icarus smoothly settled himself against the arm, long limbs splayed with a kind of grace one wouldn't expect at his size. "Do people cry in here often? Or are you telling me you cry in here, hmm?"

Jackson: Jackson watches the other move closer, sitting on the couch beside him, taking the the sight in for a moment. He had half a mind to jump him right then and there. Letting out a small huff of a laugh, the corner of his lips turn up into a grin with a small shake of his head. "And what've I got to cry about? I've got all the free booze I can drink, a hot vet who's pretty damn good at fixing broken arms... among other things." He says with a small head tilt towards the other and a wink. "Life's great, what can I say?" He says with a shrug, the layers of sarcasm masking the bitterness.

Icarus: "Yea, you sure sound like you're living the life," he chuckled, leaning in to reach around Jackson for the bottle of alcohol he'd tucked between the cushions- and if he got a little closer than absolutely necessary, well, it definitely wasn't intentional. "So," he said, taking a sip of the alcohol as he sat back, "tell me more about this hot vet."

Jackson: "Absolute fucking paradise, I'm telling you." He says with a grin and a side glance as Icarus moves closer, only to grab the bottle of booze. He stretches back slightly, though with the bottle removed from the cushions between them, Jackson looks over, shrugs a moment, before shifting to fall back with his head in the other's lap. "Mmm there we go, much better." He says, stretching out his legs, squinting up at Icarus with a cheeky grin. "Right right, the hot vet. Bit of a prick when it comes to his iced tea, but damn, he's got one hell of an ass."

Icarus: Icarus only quirks a brow when he suddenly finds himself with a lap full of Jackson- and not in that way either, which was what they were having fun getting used to so far. And though he considers shoving Jackson right off the couch, he instead gives a dramatic sigh and shifts so he's sitting on the couch, allowing Jackson to more comfortably lay on his lap. "Brat," he teased, sliding his fingers into the other's hair and giving a playful tug before releasing it and taking another swing from the bottle. "Do you blame me for being a prick? This shit is disgusting," he said, wrinkling his nose. "And I hear he's got more than just an ass- must be a hot commodity, I assume?"

Jackson: Jackson lets out a little 'oof' when Icarus shifts onto the couch properly, grinning at his new pillow. He wriggles a little, as if getting more comfortable, sticking out his tongue in true brat fashion. Eyes shift closed for a moment with the feel of the fingers in his hair, making a little face at the tug, eyes blinking back open. "Can iced tea get you drunk? Nope, didn't think so. Learn how to make me a long island and then maybe i'll understand your obsession." He says with a little roll of his eyes. "More than just an ass? Well, I don't know about that." He teases with a grin. "Alright, I guess the rest of him isn't bad either. I'm sure he's got plenty of people knocking down his door every day."

Icarus: Icarus had the sudden urge to duck his head down and bite Jackson's tongue- but he resisted, just for a second, and then the moment was gone. Ah, well. "It can't, no, but being drunk isn't all that great anyway- at least, not on your alcohol," he clarified, idly running his fingers through Jackson's hair, hardly even realizing that he was doing it. "And he does have plenty of people at his door- too bad he spends most of his time patching up this one unruly little slave."

Jackson: "Not on my alcohol? You know, I still have no clue what the fuck you are, but if you're telling me you have some sort of supernatural alcohol that's guaranteed to get me fucked up, I want in." He says with a little smirk, though he was entirely serious. He'd been bugging Magnus about letting him try the supernatural strength mead, but he kept telling him no. Had Jackson been more sober, the casual hand through his hair may have made him pull away, but right now, with his head mildly spinning and his decisions uninhibited, he stayed there, maybe a little too comfortable. The last comment pulls a broad grin from his lips, almost preening a bit at the words. "Yeah well, I'm sure it works out pretty damn well for him in the end after he's done playing doctor." If his head wasn't spinning so badly, and his limbs didn't feel so heavy, he could've lifted himself up a bit and planted one on Icarus right then and there.

Icarus: "Supernatural alcohol, you can get around here- though I probably wouldn't advise it. The whole point of it is to get Supers with tolerances ten times yours can get hammered- you'd probably die of alcohol poisoning before your third glass," he taunted with another teasing tug of his hair- though he wasn't really joking about what he'd said, it really could be dangerous for humans. "But what I'm talking about is different- it's a kind of alcohol native to my species. And I said you could guess if it really mattered to you that much," he chuckled. "Yea, yea, I guess he can't complain too much- he does look quick nice sprawled out on my bed, naked and sweaty and gasping for air." His words were purposeful, meant to tease as his lips quirked up. "Guess it could be worse, huh?"

Jackson: "How am I supposed to know if that'll happen if I can't try it out?" He asks, his reckless behaviour was something that was deeply ingrained into him. He lifts a hand to poke Icarus in the ribs in response to the small tug on his hair--not that he minded how it felt, that is. He listens for a moment, knowing he probably could be doing more research to figure out what Icarus was, though it was a little hard when he had no idea what types of species were even on the island. That, and the fact that he was barely keeping up with his own homework to take on a little side project. The corners of his lips twitch into a slight smile at the comments clearly meant to tease. "It could be worse." He muses in agreement, his hand that he'd used to poke Icarus running down his side for a moment, playing with the hem of his shirt brushing the skin underneath. Fuck, he was drunk, he thinks to himself while the other's lips tease him from just too far. "Sounds like that vet has been getting pretty lucky then."

Icarus: "You should try taking people's word for things sometimes- might do you some good," he smirked, head angled downwards so he could watch Jackson's face- the other man was so animated, it was beautiful to watch, and yes, he could admit that. To himself. Icarus' lips threatened to tug into a grin at the feel of Jackson's fingers dipping under his shirt- it was only a matter of time with him, wasn't it? It was his favourite thing about Jackson- or, well, one of his favourite things, as he was slowly realizing. "Yea, I guess you could say that," he hummed, his fingers firmly massaging against Jackson's scalp. "Might just be a favourite pastime of his."

Jackson: "But where's the fun in that?" He asks, always one to push boundaries and rules for the sake of pushing. His fingers continue to tease at the other's skin, knowing exactly what was hiding underneath that shirt and oh how much nicer this would be if that pesky shirt wasn't on him anymore. The feeling of the fingers against his hair was enough that if he closed his eyes for too long, he definitely would have passed out. Brows raise a little, lips almost moving into a cocky smirk at the last comment. "Is that so?" He asks. Jackson, with this much alcohol running through his system, had little to no inhibitions holding him back, his hand pulling away from Icarus's side, reaching up to tangle in the front of his shirt, his other arm moving to prop himself up on his elbow as he simultaneously (and while still rather clumsily) tugged Icarus down towards him, crashing their lips together, eyes closing and breathing into the kiss that he'd barely even tried to starve off with the minimal efforts of teasing from the other. It lasts a few moments, Jackson his head spinning, before he breaks the kiss, head lolling back a bit with a fairly smug smile tugging at his lips.

Icarus: The look in Jackson's eyes tell him he thinks he's won- and yet Icarus doesn't feel like the loser, his lips still warm from the drunken kiss, the faint taste of alcohol on his lips. "Oh? What about your hot vet then? Forgot about him already? And after singing his praises too," he hummed, grabbing Jackson by the back of his head and tilting his face up, "Guess i'm irresistable," he chuckled, the sound quickly muffled as he ducked his head and kissed Jackson again, drawing him up swiftly and shifting him around so he was straddling his lap. "If you throw up on me, I'll spank you."

Jackson: Jackson runs his tongue over his bottom lip as if to try to taste the reminisce of Icarus, his fingers still loosely tangled in the front of the others shirt as he stares at him with a cocky grin. “I suppose you’ll have to do.” Grin spreading wider as the other grabs the back of his head, lips connecting once more, his own kissing the other greedily. He lets his position be manipulated, thankful for the others seemingly enhanced strength to do it with such ease, since moving himself would have likely been painstakingly slow for what he wanted to do right now. His knees settle on either side of Icarus’s lap, head tilting back slightly to break the kiss after the others words. “Promise?” He says mischievously, his arms resting over Icarus’s shoulders before dipping back in and claiming his lips.

Icarus: Icarus snorted at the cheeky retort- he saw that one coming. "Brat," he teased under his breath, just before their lips reconnected, pressing urgently together. Obviously it didn't matter to them that they were out in the open, that anyone could walk into the lounge and see them- or see what they were about to get up to. There was a burning need in the pit of his belly, and he didn't bother to think about why it was that he sought out Jackson specifically that night when he could've had his pick of literally anyone- but there they were, and Icarus was all too eager to rid the other man of his shirt, tossing it aside before running his broad hands over his now bare chest. "Sure you're not too drunk to get it up?" he taunted, his lips moving away from Jackson's lips to nip at the side of his neck- hard enough to leave a bright mark behind.

Jackson: “Always.” He says with a smirk and a little tilt of his head almost as if he was trying to be cute. To be honest, Jackson wasn’t really thinking about the fact that they were in a public place, not that it really mattered that much to him. Icarus was hot, he was horny, what else was there to do? Had he been horny before the other had walked into the room? Well not really, but that was besides the point. Arms lift to allow his shirt to be removed, his own hands quickly finding the bottom hem of Icarus’s shirt to tug at, though he’s momentarily distracted by the teeth tugging on the side of his neck, forcing a little breath out of him. He rocks his hips forward playfully, making a small face. “You underestimate me.” He grins, resuming his task at hand as he clumsily pulls up the others shirt with far less gracefulness than the other man. Sure, whiskey dick was an issue, one he was familiar with, though he wouldn’t admit it, the strain against his jeans was telling enough that tonight luckily it wasn’t going to be a problem.

Icarus: Icarus chuckled and sat up just enough that Jackson could wrangle his shirt up and off, his hair tie dislodging somewhere in the process, letting his dark hair fall so it brushed against his jaw- as long as most would consider his hair was now, he wore it down to nearly his waist in his true form. He was sure Jackson would've appreciated it. "I'm not underestimating you- just making sure," he teased, nipping at the curve of Jackson's jaw as his hands slipped down the other man's torso and down, down, down so he could press one hand firmly to his crotch. "And would ya look at that- you weren't kidding," he grinned, kneading him lightly over the material of his jeans- but it wasn't enough. "Get up," he said firmly, "And take them off- all of it."

Jackson: Fingers reach and brush against the side of the others hair as it falls over the sides of his face, a small uninhibited gesture that again would have been held back had he been more sober. “Mhm sure..” was all he could muster in the moment between the nipping at his jaw and the hands that moved lower down making his hips rock forward once again to meet his hand, even the small amount of friction pulling a low groan from his lips, more out of frustration by the material that was in the way. Jackson let’s out a breath, pulling his head back, grin turning upwards. “And here I thought I was the impatient one.” As he labour’s off of the others lap, his movements so painfully intoxicated and gracelessly human. He takes a moment to undo his pants, smirking at the other as he slowly pulls them down, maybe teasing just a bit, also trying not to move too quickly so as to fall over. Next come the underwear, leaving him in all his naked glory, hands resting on his hips for a moment, making a small face with brows knitted together at the fact that Icarus was far too clothed for his liking, before reaching forward, hooking his fingers in the front of his pants, tugging him forward with whatever strength he had to coax him off the couch to stand. “Your turn.”

Icarus: For as haughty and bratty as Jackson could be, when Icarus put his hands, and other things, on him, the sounds the other man made were actually quite beautiful. And one hell of a turn on, as if he needed more help with that. "I'm not impatient, I'm efficient," he clarified, giving Jackson a hard swat on the ass before the younger man moved off his lap. Icarus watched as Jackson swayed, for a moment wondering if getting him to stand was such a good idea, but he seems to gather himself just fine, and Icarus relaxes back against the couch with a little smirk as he eagerly watches the show. It really shouldn't have been as hot as it was, what with the stumbling and fumbling and all that, but Icarus really wouldn't deny the effect it had- not that he could, considering the sizeable tent in his joggers. Icarus was just admiring Jackson's naked form when he moved forward, grabbing at his pants, pulling a laugh from him. "Alright, alright, my turn," he agreed, getting to his feet and drawing Jackson in for a kiss before he could help himself. Releasing him, Icarus tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his joggers, shimmying them down slowly, the defined v-line of his abdomen giving away to what Jackson was really after. It also became quickly apparent that Icarus wasn't wearing anything under the thin material of his pants, his heavy cock springing forward, fully erect and admittedly throbbing with need. "Happy?" he asked, toeing off his shoes so he could kick the garment off, leaving him naked as well. Reaching out, Icarus hauled Jackson close once more, this time with the added bonus of warm skin pressed flush against warm skin.

Jackson: “Impatient, efficient, same thing really.” He smirks against the swat to his ass. It took a specific kind of person to be able to spank Jackson without some form or retaliation. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t noticed the effect he had on Icarus, grinning a little smugly to himself. Jackson’s greedy hands run over the other’s torso as he watches Icarus shimmy out of his pants, teeth sinking down on his bottom lip as he eyes up the man, brows lifting at his lack of underwear. “Came prepared I see.” He says, feeling more certain now the others visit to the lounge may have been far more intentional than he let on. Thumbs trace down the front of Icarus’s hips, eyes tracing up and down slowly with a satisfied smirk. “Very.” He says before he’s pulled forward, a small grunt caught in his chest from the impact of chest against chest, his hands resting against the others hips, chin tilted upwards towards the other. He reaches up, lips kissing the others roughly for a moment before shifting along his jaw, trailing over to his neck, finding his collarbone, determined to leave a mark before his lips trail lower to the others chest, teasingly slow, trying to see just how impatient Icarus was tonight, his hips pressing forward as much as they could as his kisses dip lower.

Icarus: "Efficient," he repeated with a smirk when Jackson called him on having come prepared- in fairness, it was more a matter of haste than anything else. He'd been lounging around the house, nearly ready to turn in for the night when he finally gave into that nagging voice in the back of his head that told him to go to the lounge to find Jackson- he didn't think to change. Maybe he was impatient, on second thought. With his arms around Jackson, hands tracing along his back and then down to his ass to haul him closer, Icarus dipped his head to return the kiss, his own hips angling forward slightly, the length of him grinding against Jackson's abdomen. "Have I ever told you before," he started, the words coming between kisses, "how short you are? It's almost cute," he chuckled, stealing another kiss. Icarus was tall in this form, about 6'3- and he was even taller in his true form, closer to 6'5, perhaps even 6'6. Comparatively, most people were much shorter than he was, and Jackson was no exception. But he kind of liked that? When the other started to kiss down his chest, Icarus felt his cock throb in anticipation, having already experienced what was to come. Carding his fingers through Jackson's hair, Icarus angled his head to the side to watch the other intently. "Plan on getting down there any time soon?" he teased, half just to be a brat, and half because he truly was impatient.

Jackson: The alcohol made him less in control of the small sounds that caught in his throat when his ass was grabbed and he could feel Icarus’s length against him, desperately wanting it somewhere else, but also enjoying teasing the other far too much. Jackson wrinkles his nose and being called cute, and he had half a mind to pull away completely just to punish the other for the statement, but his own throbbing need wasn’t going to let him in that moment. “Oh fuck off.” Was what he came up with, knowing full well that he was average at best when off the island, though this place seemed to be overrun with giants and as cocky as Jackson was, was a little salty about it. Maybe he didn’t mind so much with Icarus, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let the other know that. Eyes flicker up as his kisses grow lower, chuckling against Icarus’s skin. “See? Impatient.” He says, before running his tongue down that beautiful V that carved it’s way down his abdomen, shifting down onto his knees. For someone who fought for the dominance in these situations, he tended to get on his knees rather quickly, but he knew there was power in this position as well, and oh did he like to be a tease just to see what kind of roughness he could pull out of the other. One hand wraps around the others length, his thumb rubbing over the tip for a moment while he angles it upwards so he can dip his head forward, running the flat of his tongue along the underside of the others cock before pulling back with a mischievous smirk.

Icarus: Icarus couldn't help but laugh at Jackson's response to that, though he was impressed that the other didn't say more- probably because there were other things he was thinking about. Things that were in the forefront of his own mind. "Time sensitive?" he tried with a snort when Jackson called him impatient again, but at that point, it was a losing battle- the near painful hardness between his legs was enough evidence of that. And if it wasn't, the look in his eyes alone would've been a dead giveaway. A low sound rumbled in Icarus' chest as Jackson finally made his way to his knees- a sound that quickly morphed into a low hiss when the younger man passed his tongue over his cock. He wanted to curse, wanted to demand, but that'd give away too soon how much he wanted it, him- and soon he'd loose control enough that he wouldn't care about that, but for the moment, he was going to try to maintain that laid back, cocky aloofness. Wetting his lips, Icarus smirked down at Jackson, his thumb brushing along his cheekbone. "You're even cuter when you're on your knees," he teased, his thumb moving to brush over Jackson's lower lip before he pressed the digit lightly into the other's mouth, prompting him to suck it- though it was equally likely that he'd bite it, but it was a gamble he was willing to make. "Go on," he rumbled, his voice all low and husky, brow quirking expectantly as his thumb goes back to tracing along Jackson's lips- such pretty fucking lips. "Remind me whether or not you're any good at this, yea?"

Jackson: Jackson returns the laugh as Icarus continues to come up with an answer, the slightest shake of his head as he kisses against the other's skin. And now it was his turn to hear the fun noises that came from within Icarus, making him grin with satisfaction that his teasing was working, no matter how much the other was trying to resist it. Jackson looks up, grinning against that hand on his cheek, the thumb along his lips, parting them slightly to allow entrance. He runs his tongue along the pad of his thumb, before his teeth sink down lightly, playfully biting down, as if any less could be expected of him. He wouldn’t admit it, but pulling the demands from Icarus’s lips was far too fun. His tongue licks over his bottom lip where Icarus’s thumb had been with a playful raise of his brows before shifting forward, placing a playful bite to the other’s hip. “As if you’ve forgotten.” He muses before running his tongue up the side of his cock, all the way up and over the tip before taking him into his mouth.

Icarus: When he felt the telltale sensation of Jackson's teeth biting into his thumb, he snorted and shook his head, giving the other man's hair a playful tug with his free hand- as expected. He'd have made some sort of a remark at that, but he found himself quite content to just watch the way Jackson sucked on his thumb, the look in his eyes impish as he stared up at him from his position on his knees- now that was a sight he could really get used to. "I've got a bad memory," he teased at the jibe, running his fingers through Jackson's hair once more- which was a lie, of course, Elves had phenomenal memory, and even if he didn't, Icarus didn't think he'd have forgotten what Jackson was capable of any time soon. When Jackson took his cock into his mouth, Icarus' lips parted, eyes half lidded as the cheeky amusement slowly started to fade, replaced with hot desire. "It's starting to come back," he managed to hum, wetting his lips as his hips jerked forward just a fraction before he made himself stand still. "Deeper," he said, voice even, but the heavy weight of dominance laced through the single word. "Show me how good you are."

Jackson: “Sure you do.” He says with a crooked drunken grin, swaying ever so slightly, hands moving to rest against the other’s hips to steady himself. He loves the sensation of the fingers in his hair, the light tugging that fuelled his desire. His eyes keep peeking up to see Icarus’s reaction, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips as best they could while wrapped around the others cock. He hums in response against the man’s length, not bothering to take the time to pull away for a proper retort. Fingers grip a little tighter at the slight shift in Icarus’s hips, almost as if daring him to lose control, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Oh how he loved the push and pull that came with being with the other. He obliges to the demand, but of course in his own way. He moves painstakingly slowly, the look in Icarus’s eyes making Jackson grow harder, aching for attention himself, but he loved to tease. As he dips himself closer, taking Icarus deeper, the tip of his tongue tracing along the underside. He keeps his gaze upwards, a mischievous fire in his eyes.

Icarus: His hair fell in his eyes, making him look like something out of a Pantene commercial- well, if Pantene commercials also involved sex. He couldn't seem to make himself look away from Jackson, their eyes locked across the distance- and as much as Icarus loved to tease and taunt the other, there was just something about him that made him want to slam him up against the nearest flat surface and ravage him so intensely that the man couldn't even think about making a smartass remark, let alone actually make one. Icarus bites the inside of his cheek as Jackson hums around his length, sending vibrations along the sensitive flesh. It was getting progressively harder and harder to keep himself from just taking what he wanted- he didn't do well with being told no, after all, and he was spoiled enough, and cocky enough, to not have heard that very often. "Keep it up," he said evenly, tightening his hand in Jackson's hair, "and I'll just have to pin your head against the wall and fuck your mouth myself."

Jackson: Just when it seemed like Icarus couldn't get any more attractive, he went and did shit like that. It made Jackson want to both punch him in the face for being so fucking hot, and push him up against a wall and climb him like a goddamn tree. Jackson knew what he wanted, and he knew how to act like a brat to get it. If he was going to submit, he wanted to be pushed around, he wanted to be left feeling like he got the shit kicked out of him in the best way possible. Jackson continues to move slowly, pulling back, ever so lightly dragging his teeth along the other's length before swirling his tongue around the tip, once, twice, before pulling away with a small 'pop'. He grins against the tightened fingers in his hair, his chin tilting upwards, fingers scratching down the sides of Icarus's thighs. "Is that a promise?"

Icarus: Icarus doesn't know if he wants to growl or laugh as Jackson continues his slow place, clearly wanting to push him to that point where he lost control- and the thing was that he didn't even mind going there. There was nothing he loved more than dominating someone, sexually in particular, to leave them whimpering and gasping and begging and pleading- both for him to stop and for him to keep going. And while he wasn't so great with his etiquette classes back home, Icarus was still a quick study, and after just a handful of times with Jackson, he already knew what made the younger man howl with pleasure so brilliant that his eyes would glimmer with unshed tears- not that either one of them would bring that bit up afterwards. And so he was more than happy to end their little game of cat and mouse- Icarus wanted Jackson, and so he'd have him. Wordlessly, Icarus yanked Jackson up and then shoved him backwards into the nearby wall, effortlessly toeing the line between 'too rough' and 'just right'. Before Jackson could right himself, Icarus was upon him stepping close so his feet were planted on either side of the man's thighs as he sat with his back to the wall. "Open," he said smoothly, one hand cupping the man's jaw as the head of his cock prodded his lips- and when he did so, Icarus rolled his hips forward, filling Jackson's mouth and humming deep in his chest. He was big enough that he didn't just shove his entire length down Jackson's throat, but he also knew the other was a stickler for pain- so maybe he was a little rougher than he would've been with someone else, the head of his cock nudging the back of Jackson's throat.

Jackson: Jackson's lips stay spread in a smile as if he was caught mid laugh, as if he was daring Icarus to lose it. By the time he was grabbed and shoved back against the wall, he was practically giddy inside, his drunk body not fighting back as he might have when he was sober, but the cheeky grin never left his face. Even though he was the one getting pushed against the wall, forced back onto his knees, he somehow felt like he'd won. His chin tilts upwards as the other holds it, lips closed for a moment, only parting slowly to allow entrance after the order, unable to bite back the grin that curled at the corner of his lips. The way he's been tossed around makes him unbearably hard, but he's distracted for a moment when Icarus's hips roll forward, pushing himself deeper into Jackson's mouth, one hand reaching to rest on the back of his thigh, if only just to keep himself steady. There was a lot of Icarus to take in, but with the life that Jackson had chosen to lead, he'd gotten good at these sort of things. He lets out a little grunt as he feels the other hit the back of his throat, feeling a slight bit of restricting, gagging slightly before sucking in a breath to relax it. He knew Icarus was going to continue to be rough, and he didn't mind one bit. Hollowing out his cheeks a bit, he pulls back slightly, only to move forward again quickly, taking Icarus in a little more.

Icarus: For all his typical alpha male nature, Icarus actually wasn't prone to violence outside of when he thought it was necessary- of course, his idea of 'necessary' was sometimes very different from what most would say. But all that was completely separate from this, from the way he shoved Jackson around, tossing him roughly against the wall, not taking much care to be gentle with him. But he knew the man could take it, and more than that, he knew the man craved it in some sense. Where it someone else, Icarus might've let up a little at the gagging, but he didn't with Jackson, knowing that the man would take it, would force his body to accept it- which was more than he could say about himself, he'd have probably bit the persons dick off if they thought they could make him do anything. He wasn't much of a bottom, what could he say. "Don't move," he says roughly, his hand tightening in Jackson's hair, pinning his head back against the wall, just as he'd promised. "I gave you your chance, didn't I?" he smirked darkly, rocking his hips forward again, slowly but purposefully driving forward until he felt the tight ring of muscles at Jackson's throat let up, his thick cock pressing deep inside until all of him was engulfed. Icarus held himself for one second, two, before pulling all the way out, giving Jackson a moment to breathe. "Fuck," he growled, all amusement gone now, his breath coming heavy. "Open," he demanded once more before sliding his cock inside Jackson's mouth again, this time starting to slowly thrust, long and deep.

Jackson: For someone that hated being told what to do and defied authority at every turn, Jackson sure enjoyed being bossed around by Icarus, not that he'd ever tell the other man that, or go out of his way to show that was the case. But watching the other unravel, his demands becoming more forceful and his actions growing even more rough, made Jackson feel like his skin was on fire in every best sense of the word. With the tug to his hair, his chin tilts up slightly, giving an excellent view of his sharp jaw line. Normally he'd be spitting back retorts, but well, his mouth was a little busy, and he sure as hell was going to make sure Icarus remembered this. The usual anger that lived in Jackson's eyes had been replaced with lust, enjoying probably just a little too much what his teasing had pulled out of the other. He can feel his eyes water for a moment as the other drives himself forward completely into his mouth, eyes flickering down for the first time in minutes to focus, closing slightly as he deep throats Icarus completely. Fingers grip into the other's leg, his own hips desperately wanting to grind forward to find any sort of friction. Jackson lets out a breath as Icarus pulls out completely, his chest rising and falling, eyes popping open to look up at the other with a breathy smirk, words lost for the moment. Jackson brings a hand up to wipe some spit from the corner of his mouth as he grins and he catches his breath. The way Icarus growls is enough to force his own hand down between his legs, stroking himself slowly, lips parting to allow entrance. He can't stop the soft groan that rises from this throat as Icarus pushes into his mouth, his own hand moving to stroke in time with the slow but deep thrusts.

Icarus: It takes more control than he cares to admit to keep from literally pinning Jackson's head against the wall and power thrusting relentlessly until he spills down the man's throat- but he knows it'd be over too fast if he did that. While, like most Supers, his refractory period was quite short, allowing him to go again and again without the rest time a human might've needed, it still didn't sit well with him to finish too quickly. Free hand dropping to caress that beautiful jaw, cut from marble, Icarus angles his head down to watch Jackson's face as he slowly thrusts into his mouth, all the way to the hilt each time- and there's something about the glimmer of tears in his eyes, in the flush of his cheeks, in the way his lips are stretched around him that makes Icarus hiss and narrow his eyes. "I want to have you like this every day," he rumbles, a confession that shouldn't be taken lightly- maybe he'd take it back when he wasn't balls deep down Jackson's throat. For the moment though, he meant it, he could get used to this. His pace slowly starts to quicken, the thick muscles of his abdomen flexing and bunching- but he comes to a stop with his cock pressed all the way into Jackson's mouth when he catches what the man is doing. "Stop that," he demands, "Did I tell you you could touch yourself?" he asks, lifting a brow, "hands off, little brat, I decide what you do and when you get to do it." Pulling back, Icarus allows Jackson to catch his breath. "Hands behind your back," he says before sliding his cock back into Jackson's mouth with a grunt. "You can touch yourself when I'm fucking that pretty little ass of yours."

Jackson: It was a little too easy to lose himself in this, a part of him still trying to play his little game of how obnoxious could he be, and actually submitting and letting himself enjoy it. Their eyes meet again and Jackson holds it, had his lips not been a little busy he would have been smirking. Though it probably was a good thing his mouth was a little full at the moment, because the comment was one that left him without words, a bit of a rarity when it came to Jackson. But he's too drunk to linger on them too long, and the pace quickens, his own strokes against himself matching as it all forces a low moan that catches in his chest. Brows raise at the other, chest heaving slightly when Icarus pulls back, a grin pulling at his lips. He had two choices: listen, do as he was told and be a good boy, or do what he did best. It was safe to say he chose the latter. He looks up with defiant eyes using the moment to breath to actually get some words in. " Make me ." He says with a raise of his brows as if to dare the other, before his mouth was once again filled with Icarus's cock, his hand not moving from his own.

Icarus: Icarus doesn't know if he wants to laugh or throw Jackson across the room- probably a little bit of both. He should've seen this coming, should've known that getting Jackson to do something wouldn't be as easy as it was with literally anyone else. He could count on one hand the number of times anyone thought to defy him, sexually and not, and that came to a grand total of zero- well, one, now, and that just wouldn't do. Pulling out of Jackson's mouth again, Icarus yanked the man's head back by the hair and stooped down just enough to smirk in his face. "Fine." With the speed that was customary of his species, Icarus used his hold on Jackson's hair to toss him down to the ground, towards the centre of the room. Before Jackson could think to move, Icarus was on him, the heavy weight of his tall frame pressing the smaller man into the hard floor. Grabbing the man's wrists, Icarus pinned them roughly over Jackson's head as he swooped down and kissed him roughly, all teeth and tongue- he even managed to bite the slave hard enough that he could taste the faint tinge of blood on his tongue. Good. "Little brat," he repeated with a smirk, levering himself up so he could brace his knees on either side of Jackson's chest, his legs long enough to pin the other man's legs down in the process. With Jackson's arms and legs now immobile, he could struggle all he wanted- he was going nowhere. The only thing left for him to handle was that mouth. "Lets try this again," he hummed, shuffling up just enough that he could press his cock to Jackson's lips again. With the way his head was now pinned against the floor with Icarus on top on him, the other man really would have absolutely no choice but to lay there and take it. Which was exactly what he, and probably Jackson, wanted anyway.

Jackson: Jackson can't help the telltale grin on his face when Icarus pulls out, his hair tugged and head pulled back as the other stoops lower. If his head wasn't being pulled back and pinned against the wall he probably would have reached up to kiss him just for how hot he looked in that exact moment. But the moment passes quickly enough that the next thing he knows he's sprawled on the ground in the middle of the room, his intoxicated mind taking an extra beat to catch up. He has just enough time for his head to shift up slightly to see Icarus moving on top of him, the weight of the other pulling a groan of desire from his lips. What he would have given to be fucked hard and fast in that exact moment, but he knew it wasn't going to be that easy, especially with how much of a brat he was being. It doesn't take Icarus all that long to make Jackson completely immobile, and god it was hot the way he pinned Jackson down, all of it making Jackson's control start to slip. With his lips suddenly engulfed with Icarus's, Jackson kisses back with a fiery passion, his whole body reacting to it, hips desperately trying to push upwards, wrists straining against the other's hold. But of course it did nothing, the other's supernatural strength far more than his average human strength. He could have almost whined when Icarus pulled away from his lips, caught for the slightest moment where a smirk didn't pull across them, and instead there was a look of raw need. But it only lasts just that, a moment. Because then Icarus is shimming up, and Jackson knows his 'punishment' is about to ensue and that tugs a grin on the corner of his lips before they part around the tip of Icarus's cock, allowing the man to take what he wanted from his mouth.

Icarus: A low growl rips from his throat as he presses his entire length into Jackson's mouth, his cock sliding down the man's throat. This position requires a little more control from himself, because he doesn't want to actually hurt Jackson in a way that's permanent- and what's more permanent than having your skull crushed or your windpipe shattered. But that doesn't mean he's going to be gentle about it, no, Jackson had more than proved by that point that he liked it hard and rough and just on the cusp of 'too much'. Icarus was more than happy to oblige. Breathing heavy, Icarus starts to fuck Jackson's mouth in a steady pace, pulling out just enough to allow him to sneak half a breath between thrusts- but not more, because he finds that he likes the way Jackson's face goes red with exertion and arousal, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes once more. It's a beautiful sight, that surrender, Icarus always thought so, but there's just something about taking Jackson to that place is just that little bit more satisfying. "What a good little slut," he smirked down at younger man, his eyes hungrily taking in the depraved sight- he's not sure how the comment will be received, but honestly, in the moment he didn't care- and more than that, it wasn't up to Jackson, now was it? His breath came heavier as his thrusts sped up to the point where he was barely pulling out anymore, most of his cock firmly buried down Jackson's throat. It meant that the man wouldn't be able to breathe very much, if at all, but that didn't matter considering the fact that it took only two more strokes before Icarus was letting out a mighty roar as his cock pulsed in Jackson's mouth and he came down the man's throat in a powerful orgasm. Once he was empty, he quickly pulled out of Jackson's mouth, half lidded eyes on the man's face to make sure that he was okay- even if he wouldn't actually outright ask.

Jackson: In this position, hands pinned above his head, hips forced to remain against the ground, there's not much Jackson can do but submit. In the back of his mind he has a momentary thought about what a sight this would be if anyone wandered into the lounge right then and there, and the thought almost could have made him laugh, had his mouth and throat not been filled with Icarus's cock. Eyes water but remain open, wanting to see Icarus in all his glory in those moments of taking complete control, and it was making Jackson unbearably hard. But there was quite literally nothing he could do about it in that exact moment. Eyes narrow playfully at being called a good little slut, and oh the things he would have said back had he been able to, but it seemed that Icarus was making the most of having Jackson in a position where couldn't run his mouth. Between the look on Icarus's face as he fucked Jackson's mouth and the lack of oxygen allowed between thrusts it was like a high unto itself. Small uncontrollable noises escape him from the back of his throat and his lids flutter slightly from being beautifully light headed in the moment. Then the other came hard in his throat, and the mix between the noise that Icarus made and the feeling of the other's length pulsing through his orgasm ripped a strangled moan from Jackson's chest, fingers curling into fists where they were pinned above his head. He swallows obediently, because he could be good if he wanted to be, inhaling a shaky breath when Icarus pulls out, his lips swollen, red and glistening. "Fuck.." He breaths, chest heaving as it works to bring in a normal amount of oxygen again, blinking slowly as he looked at Icarus, the other man always managing to look gorgeous after an orgasm, not that Jackson would mention it. There's a weird settle of calm between them, even just for a moment, as they catch their breaths, but it doesn't last long for Jackson when his mind returns to his own painfully hard length that was practically twitching for attention. "You gonna return the favour, or we gonna have a little brawl to see who gets to be on top?" He says, his tone a little more breathy than before from the exertion, but the smirk was there, tugging at his lips, as if Icarus would ever let him top, but it was sure to get a good reaction out of the other.

Icarus: After it'd become obvious that Jackson, though winded and a little out of it, was fine, Icarus let out a short laugh, scooting backwards so his knees were braced on either side of Jackson's waist, sitting back on his heels to allow the man to catch his breath properly. "We can brawl if you want- but you and I both know who'd come out on top," he smirked, fingers flexing on Jackson's wrists before he ducked his head and kissed the man again- firmly, but less like he was trying to swallow the man whole. He was still catching his breath, after all, and he'd rather Jackson have a moment to gather himself considering that Icarus was far from done with him. As he kissed Jackson lazily, he shifted his grip so one of his large hands easily held both Jackson's wrists, his now free hand sliding slowly down the man's chest. "Who's impatient now," he smirked against Jackson's lips as his rough hand passed lightly over the man's cock, though not giving much. Moving his lips along Jackson's jaw, Icarus nipped his way down the man's throat before biting hard at the base of his neck, leaving behind a mark so large, so dark that it'd likely be there for days to come. Exactly as he wanted. Meanwhile his hand wrapped around Jackson's cock, giving him one stroke, then another before releasing him and moving down to cup his balls lightly. His touch was meant to tease, to arouse, likely to frustrate and infuriate, but Jackson had to know that he'd make up for it. Eventually. "What's wrong?" he taunted, quirking a brow as he noted the pre come smeared on Jackson's stomach where his cock had been resting. "Did you need something? Because that's not how you ask for a favour, little brat. Why don't you try again."

Jackson: Jackson lets out a little chuckle watching Icarus shift down, taking in a bit of a deeper breath. "Wanna bet?" He says with a little bounce of his brow, his cockiness running deep, even if he didn't have the strength to back it up. His head lifts slightly in anticipation to meet the other's lips, and he welcomes the kiss eagerly. The grin continues to tug at the corner of his lips through the kiss as he feels the hands shifting against his wrist, Icarus clearly making sure that he was to remain pinned down. Oh and he was impatient, with it taking most of his effort to keep from trying to shift his hips upwards against Icarus in favour of some sort of friction. There's an involuntary flinch of his body when the hand passes over his cock, only just teasing him. For a moment he curses the fact that he was only human and no matter how hard he tried he wouldn't have been able to push the other off of him to straddle him and just take what he wanted. His head tilts, allowing Icarus access to his neck. "Can you blame me--" His last word is cut off harshly by the bite to his neck, forcing a low moan to fall from his lips. He'd found out he wasn't all that fond of vampires biting him, but fuck, when Icarus bite him, it made his head spin. Finally, there's friction for him and his hips try to push against it but it's far too quickly gone, a groan escaping through clenched teeth. "Fucking tease." He growls, and, while he could dish it out, he struggled with being teased himself, especially being as worked up as he already was. And he didn't like to beg, not quickly anyways. It took a lot of breaking down before Jackson was going to beg. "Ask for a favour? I think I'm damn well owed a favour after a grade A blow job like that."

Icarus: "I'm going to make you moan like that again. And again," he smirked against the base of Jackson's throat when he heard the response to his biting and sucking- he had to admit, it was really fucking sexy, and it made his cock pulse even despite the climax he had literally a minute ago. "And a tease? Me? I would never," he taunted, trailing kisses just a tiny bit lower- the truth was that he knew how to toy with people, in the way a cat toyed with a mouse before it killed it, and toying with Jackson was becoming his new favourite pastime. It was something new, not many people dared to treat him the way Jackson did, wouldn't do it even intoxicated. Icarus liked that Jackson was different- but he wouldn't admit it, not even to himself, not yet. "I'd like to also point out that you didn't do a damn thing- that was all me. I had to take over because you didn't know what you were doing, remember?" he snickered, biting down hard on Jackson's nipple before laving his tongue over the sensitive flesh. "But fine- lets play a game then. I'm going to let go, you keep your hands there, above your head, and as long as you do, I'll keep going," he said, taking another few kisses down Jackson's chest. "If you move your hands though, I'll stop."

Jackson: Jackson’s breath catches at the words, counting on it completely that Icarus was going to make him moan loud enough for it to carry down the halls. His wrists continue to tug lightly against the hold the other has on him as he feels the kisses dip lower on his chest, his reactions clearly less controlled and a little more erratic than earlier. He was so much more impatient when drunk, his neediness elevated, and that combined with the fact that his cock had received very little attention up until this point, pulls a low impatient growl from his chest. His chin tilts down to watch the others lips trail his chest, moving far too slowly. “I didn’t do a damn thing?” He questions, continuing to try to sass the other, even in this state of frustration. “How about you try it next time without my mouth and see just how much fun that is.” He retorts, but his head falls back slightly at the bite to the sensitive skin, a breath escaping his lips and his body continuing to strain to fight against the other’s hold on him. Eyes glance back down and a brow cocks at the mention of a game. He wasn’t sure if he was going to manage this, with his level of intoxication, and his already startling lack of impulse control. But he was damn well going to try if it meant that Icarus would keep going on the route he was currently on. “Game on.” He says with a cocky smile as if he had this in the bag, which he most definitely didn’t.

Icarus: "Good little brat," he praised in a near-patronising way- Jackson was definitely going to like that. But the beauty of it was that the man didn't have much choice other that to put up with it, considering the position he was in, pinned to the ground, writhing with need. Even Jackson had to have some idea of how far he could push it. His lips curved into a grin against his flushed skin, tongue darting out to trace the ridges of his abdomen. "And are you saying that you want to watch me touch myself, Jackson?" he taunted, his voice low and husky, reverberating against his skin. "I don't blame you, it's a pretty amazing sight- me with my legs wide, stroking my cock. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he smirked, knowing full well what kind of a picture he was painting for the other- he asked for it, acting the way he was. Having released his hold on Jackson's wrists, Icarus continued to slip lower, teeth biting and marking his descent. "You holdin' up okay?" he asked after a moment- right before biting down hard just over Jackson's hipbone. "And don't think I forgot about the begging. Get to it."

Jackson: Jackson’s jaw sets, teeth clenching making a face at being called a good little brat, but his concentration is wavering, focusing less on mouthing off and focusing more on what Icarus was doing with his mouth. He could have almost rolled his eyes at the image the other was creating for him, swallowing deeply as he sucked in a breath, marvelling at how good that sight would be to see. With his hands free now he had to focus, fingers curling into fists above him in an attempt to keep them there, because he sure as hell didn’t want icarus to stop what he was doing, and he wouldn’t put it past the other to actually follow through with his threat. If his unusual lack of remarks wasn’t a give away, his cock practically twitches at the mental image of Icarus touching himself with the mix of the other’s teeth against his skin. He knew he was sure to find plenty of marks all over when this was done, and he sure as hell was going to wear them proudly. “Doing just great.” He says, though his voice is strained and has a sharp edge to it, his hips flinching anxiously against the bite, a loose moan falling from his lips. He really didn’t manage well with teasing. He hadn’t even realized how laboured his breath had gotten as his head falls back slightly, hands pressing against the floor in an attempt to keep them there. “Gimme a preview and we’ll see if it’s worth begging for.” The words don’t match his breathy tone, but he was going to try his hardest to go down fighting.

Icarus: Icarus smirked against Jackson's skin at the response- it's undeniable, the hitch in his voice, the strain, the tenseness in his body, wound so tight he thought it was a miracle the other didn't just snap. Not yet, anyway. "Yea, I can see that," he said tauntingly, pausing for just a second so his eyes could dart upwards, so he could register the look on Jackson's face. And true to his word, he did draw yet another moan from the younger man, putting Icarus in a position where he didn't know if he wanted to smirk with satisfaction or bite him harder to make him moan again. With his hair flipped artfully over to one side, Icarus laved his tongue over the bite mark he'd just made over Jackson's hip, his hands sliding lower to grip the tops of the man's thighs. "A preview? You've already had more than enough- you know what I can do," he smirked, quirking a brow at the man, angling his head so that, as he spoke, his breath danced over Jackson's sensitive cock. "You're just stalling," he continued to taunt, leaning in enough that his lips just barely brushed the side of the man's length. "I hope you realize that you only have to say the words and I'd have you on your hands and knees, sinking my cock into that tight little ass of yours. Tick Tock."

Jackson: Maybe if Jackson hadn’t already had a taste of what Icarus was like resisting would have been easier. But the man was good, even he could admit that. He was caught between wanting to watch icarus and what he was doing and forcing himself to look away because it was all just too tempting. And then there was his hair, hair that made Jackson want to both caress it gently and tug on it to get him closer and he couldn’t honestly figure out which he wanted to more. Jackson knows full well he’s losing control of his reactions, and his hands were threatening to move with every kiss and bite to his skin. And then his lips got devilishly close to where Jackson so desperately needed attention and that time his hips tried to push forward a bit before he caught himself. It was a losing battle, he know that, especially the way that the other man was intoxicating in the way that he teased Jackson. Jackson was stubborn, yes, but he was also only human driven by raw wants and needs. “Fuck it.” Jackson mumbles to himself, knowing full well he was giving in just like icarus wanted and he probably wouldn’t hear the end of it next time they were together but right now his need outweighed all of that. Hands move from where they’re supposed to be, pulling himself up to sit so he can lean toward, tangling his fingers in that glorious hair and tug Icarus forward and claim his lips in a heated kiss, maybe done in a mild bit of rebellion itself, but he breathes into the kiss what Icarus wants to hear. “Please.” He says in a low growl, muffled against the others lips, because this was Jackson after all and he wasn’t going to start whimpering for it, not yet anyways. “Please fuck me so hard that they can hear me screaming all the way down in the cells.”

Icarus: Icarus would've used that moment to call Jackson out on moving, because he could sense his arms leaving their position even before he felt the man's hands in his hair, but then he was hauling him up and kissing him and Icarus couldn't find it in himself to resist- not right then, anyway. He sat up at the prompting, hands braced on Jackson's thighs as he leaned into the kiss, his tongue sweeping into the younger man's mouth, relishing in the taste of both the man and himself. Despite being a tease, Icarus was a man of his word, so upon hearing what he wanted out of Jackson, he was more than happy to oblige and give in to what they both very obviously wanted. One of his hands went to the back of Jackson's head, holding him tighter to him, as his other hand moved between Jackson's lets, long fingers stroking slowly. "There's a good little brat," he muttered against Jackson's lips, though that'd probably be the last of the teasing he'd be able to manage until after they were through with one another. Considering how aroused Jackson was, and how long he'd been denied, his cock was practically drooling with precome- which was convenient as he dipped his come slicked fingers lower, circling his entrance. "I've wanted to fuck you since I walked into the lounge," he whispered roughly, biting at Jackson's lips even as he slowly worked one then two fingers into the man, stretching him carefully- but not too much, knowing that part of the pleasure came from the near unbearable stretch. "And you can run your mouth all you want- but I know you did too."

Jackson: There’s a moment where Jackson lets go, the teasing and the way his intoxicated head was spinning against every kiss and touch, and he knew he was a goner at this point. Icarus had won and he was all too willing to give the other his prize. He kisses the man back with a feverish like heat, as if he just can’t get close enough. As if on cue, Icarus’s hand tangles in his hair and pulls him closer and he lets out a soft groan, hips reacting against the touch to his length. He can’t even muster up a reply to his new little nickname, instead sinking his teeth down on the others bottom lip, tugging at it. He wouldn’t admit it but the small confession practically makes him shiver, their lips fighting one another in a never ending battle. His fingers tangle deeper in the other’s hair, tugging the moment feels one of Icarus’s long digits push into him, making his breath come out in heavy, short pants, trying to focus on kissing the other, but even that was getting sloppy and clumsy. Another added finger pulls a groan from his chest, head falling back slightly, their bodies just a mess of tangled limbs and passion. He’d wanted to fuck Icarus the moment he’d walked in on the guards beating on him, and he’d wanted to fuck him every moment after that, but he wouldn’t be mentioning that to the man any time soon, since his ego was already exceptionally large, among other things. His head falls forward again with a shuddering breath, the fingers so quickly becoming nothing more than a tease themselves, and his face buries against Icarus’s neck, teeth sinking in harshly as his hips try to push further onto the others fingers.

Icarus: The tightness of Jackson's ass around his fingers makes him want to growl with desire, mostly because he knew how much tighter it'd be once he finally eased himself inside the other man- they've already been there, done that, and yet Icarus found that he was quickly wanting more. Or, well, wanting it more often, at the very least. Jackson's reactions to what he was doing were absolutely divine, and Icarus can't figure out if he finds the other more attractive when he's smirking or when he's near sobbing with need- probably both. "You like that, don't you?" he growled against Jackson's mouth, pulling back just enough to watch the look on the man's face as he pushed his fingers deep, as deep as they could go, before curling them upwards, brushing against his prostate in the way Icarus quickly learned Jackson couldn't get enough of. Icarus didn't blame him, he knew his long, thick fingers definitely hit the spot- which was only reaffirmed at the sounds the other man was making. The combination of those sounds and the way Jackson looked had Icarus hard and throbbing again in absolutely no time, demanding attention. Using his free hand to take Jackson's, Icarus guided it to his cock, making the man wrap his fingers around his thick length. "But you want this inside you instead, don't you?" he taunted at the man's ear when he pressed his face into the side of his neck. Sensing that Jackson was ready for more, Icarus pulled his fingers out before shoving at the man, roughly turning him so he was on his hands and knees, that pretty ass upturned- before he could help himself, Icarus brought his broad hand down on him, first one cheek and then the other, until his skin reddened beautifully. With his own control slipping precariously, Icarus was on Jackson, his chest pressed firmly to the other man's back, his cock nudging at his entrance. "Tell me you want it," he demanded, tangling his fingers in Jackson's hair and yanking his head back so he could bite roughly at the side of his neck. "Let me hear you."

Jackson: Jackson was quickly becoming a mess and he knew that these were the moments that Icarus held over his head when he’d start teasing him again. Reminding him of how completely undone Icarus had made him, how he’d turned him so needy that he actually begged for it. But it felt too good to worry about his arrogance or his pride in that moment, and while it took a lot to get him to submit like this (something icarus seemed to be mastering rather quickly), he liked it. The others fingers push deeper and he’s no longer in control of the low moans that are being pulled from his lips so easily, not that he ever really cared about being too quiet. There weren’t many that could make Jackson this pliant, his hand easily guided to the others length, wrapping his fingers around it, the fact that it was so hard again so soon making his hips shift anxiously against the other. His teeth continue to nip at the others skin, as if that were some semblance of control nodding against Icarus’s neck. Oh he did want that. His mind was swimming and he felt like he was entering a whole new level of intoxication, drunk with the scent and feel of Icarus around him. He grunts against the fingers being pulled out, his body manhandled in a way that pulls more noises from him. Exhaling sharp breaths at the sting of Icarus’s hand against his ass, and he knew had this been anyone else, he would have turned around and pushed them right back for spanking him but fuck, it was hot when icarus did it, taking complete control. More grunts and groans follows as Icarus’s larger body engulfs him, his head being roughly pulled back, allowing access to his neck so it could be ravaged even more—and he wondered for half a second if he’d have a spot on him that wasn’t marked by the man. He feels the other pushing against him, still fucking teasing and that pulls the closest thing to an honest whine that has come from Jackson’s lips. “I want you, so fucking bad.” He says through laboured shuddering breaths, trying as best he could to push his own hips back to give him what he wants.

Icarus: Before all the words were even out of Jackson's mouth, Icarus was pushing forward, the thick head of his cock pressing against his entrance until it eventually slipped in, prompting a low curse from him. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you're going to have to be carried home," he promised roughly, scraping his teeth along the length of Jackson's neck as his hips press forward relentlessly, slowly but forcefully entering the man until finally his hips met Jackson's ass. Icarus didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he felt the familiar burning in his lung, and he exhaled heavily, dropping his forehead against Jackson's shoulder blade to give them both a second to get used to the feeling. He was right, the man was infinitely tighter around his thick cock than he was around his fingers, and it felt good enough that, were he anyone else, he might've come right then and there. But he held himself back, because there was no way in hell he wasn't going to draw this out for as long as he could. Gritting his teeth, Icarus pulled back slowly, until only the head of his cock remained inside before snapping his hips forward again, this time more roughly. "Fuck," he grunted, hips thrusting forward again, the slap of Jackson's ass against his thighs echoing in his ears. Hooking his feet around Jackson's ankles, he moved them apart, spreading him wider before his thrusting became more forceful, the other man's entire body lunging forward with the power behind each thrust. "Don't you dare think about touching your cock," he added, panting harshly in Jackson's ear, already having figured that the thought must've crossed his mind. "Not until I tell you- fuck."

Jackson: The cry that falls from Jackson’s lips is a sound of pure pleasure mixed with pain in the most beautiful way, finally getting what he’d been aching for so badly. He counted on being left in such a shaky, weak mess that he honestly wouldn’t doubt that the other would have to help him back, and he wondered if he’d be spending the night back at Icarus’s, something he definitely wouldn’t mind. The sharp noise morphs into a long moan through clenched teeth as Icarus slowly pushes into him completely, and it was almost as if they both let go of a breath simultaneously. Jackson breathes heavily, giving himself a moment to adjust, before Icarus pulls back slowly and it makes Jackson’s head tilt back against the other, lips parted and lids drooping slightly, and he knew exactly what was coming. Fingers curl against the floor as Icarus thrusts into him quick and harsh, a staggered moan caught in his throat as his body is forced forward, for once at a loss for words. The reactions that come from Icarus fill his ears and if he wasn’t in so much ecstasy himself he would have been smirking smugly. But instead his expression is one of desire and need and of course Icarus had taken him in a way that he couldn’t grip his greedy hands against him and ravaged the others skin. He moves easily, allowing the other to spread his legs allowing better access and he feels himself throbbing painfully. It was as if the other has read his mind, and he lets out a frustrated groan, goose bumps rising at the back of his neck with the others hot breath in his ear. His head falls forward, hair draping over his eyes, his face rosy from exertion. He wanted something to bite against, a pillow, the other’s shoulder, anything but instead he had to just let the moans tumble from his lips and in a way that would likely make Icarus smug. “Fuck...” he breathes, his voice shaking more than he wanted to show, but fuck how could he help it at this point?

Icarus: As much as Icarus doesn't want to let on just how much he's come to enjoy their romps, the fact that Jackson clearly feels the same lessens the blow somewhat. Icarus loves to fuck, men, women, and he always fucks with this painfully dominant, all encompassing way- but he doesn't usually lose control very often. Or at the very least, it takes him a lot to get there- and that didn't mean he wasn't satisfied or anything, he just relished in the fact that he had the control in his corner, and it was usually his partner who fell to pieces long before he did. But with Jackson, it was never that easy, never that simple. Every move was met with resistance or a smartass remark or defiance outright, and it was a miracle they didn't actually throw punches when they were going at it- sometimes he wondered if it was only a matter of time. But what was surprising was how much Icarus actually enjoyed the push back, the way Jackson was always too much work, to much of a hassle- and yet he kept going back for more. And the end result was that he always ended up feeling like he himself was losing it, like Jackson was driving him wild just as much as he was driving the other wild- he still wasn't sure how he felt about that. But that was a worry for another day, and all Icarus could focus on right then and there was how fucking perfect Jackson felt around his cock and how amazing the man looked and sounded while he was being fucked into the ground. "Fuck, yes," he growled, lifting up enough to grip Jackson's hips in his large hands, no doubt bruising up his pale skin, before pounding into the smaller man relentlessly. Each thrust buried his cock to the hilt, forcing Jackson to feel every last inch of him, forcing his body to submit. And as much as he wished he could just keep fucking him just like that, he could feel himself getting closer and closer to the brink. He could've slowed down then, gathered himself, it's what he would've done with anyone else, but he just...couldn't, simply put- he couldn't deny himself. And though he knew that he could probably get Jackson to come just by fucking him, he leaned forward to cover the smaller man with his body again, without breaking his stride, and reached around to grab his cock. Yanking his head back, Icarus covered his mouth in a harsh kiss, even as he began to pump Jackson's cock in time with his fucking- there was no way he was going to come until Jackson had dissolved into a puddle of pleasure under him, so good that it was nearly painful.

Jackson: There were likely only a handful of times that Jackson had been willfully brought to this point. Where his legs felt like they were going weak, and his head was spinning, and it seemed that Icarus was someone that was finding it increasingly easy to get him there. Each time icarus pushes into him he feels like he’s on fire, and Icarus’s noises only added to the flame. It was really no wonder he kept coming back, finding excuses to stop by the other’s suite, but having Icarus seek him out felt nice, even if he’d only acknowledge that deep down. His hips lift a little when they’re grabbed, his body jerking forward each time icarus pounds into him with a force he’s honestly never felt before being with him. Jackson had given up trying to hold back the noises, his moans likely echoing down the halls for anyone to hear, and a part of him hopes they do. As much as he wanted to keep up like this forever, and honestly he would as best as he could knowing the other could probably keep this up for a while, he’s still drunk, and his cock has been given so little attention it’s throbbing with need. The contact of the other against his back makes Jackson groan, his head moving with the tug to meet Icarus’s lips, kissing him back in a way that could only be described as distracted and sloppy and all too needy. He moans harshly against the others lips at finally getting attention where he needed it most, his need almost painful at this point. “—fuck.” His word muffled against the other’s mouth as fresh washes of pleasure over his body. If he’d been more sober and his body less exhausted and clumsy he would have tried to reach back, to grasp at any part of the other that he could have. With Icarus stoking him in time with the powerful thrusts he falls over the edge suddenly, coming hard into the others hand and onto the floor. His whole body tenses and shudders, lips breaking apart enough to let the sound that rips from Jackson’s chest fill the room.

Icarus: "Come for me," he pants into Jackson's mouth, "Come for me, now," he orders- and when he feels the man's cock start to pulse in his hand, he can't help but think thank God because he's so fucking close himself. A couple more relentless thrusts later, he can feel Jackson clenching around his cock, even as his body starts to tremble and shake. And then he was coming, and Icarus felt his own body clench and throb in time with Jackson's as the man climaxed powerfully, screaming his pleasure into the room. And through the climax, Icarus kept pounding into him, hard and fast, only seeming to pick up his pace- he wanted Jackson boneless, completely out of his mind with overwhelming pleasure. And, selfishly, he wanted the man to remember it, this time and every time he fucked him, Icarus wanted Jackson to remember it as the best fuck he's ever, and will ever have. Biting into the back of Jackson's neck, Icarus stops stroking the man's cock when he feels him finish coming, but he doesn't let up his thrusts, instead wrapping his arms around Jackson tightly enough that he can rock him down onto his cock while he thrusts up into him, forcing himself as deep into Jackson as was physically possible. He was a little embarrassed to admit that he himself was so overwhelmed that he didn't even think to check how Jackson was holding up, but then he felt his balls clench and his cock swelled and he buried himself to the hilt before he exploded, filling Jackson's tight ass with rope after rope of his hot come.

Jackson: Fuck he liked it when Icarus ordered him around, which of course would be yet another thing he'd never let on about. But the way he demanded that Jackson come makes it all too easy when he does fall over the edge, heaving heavy breaths as he does so. Of course Icarus wouldn't let up, making sure that he was yelling out into the empty lounge. To be honest he didn't know if the other was going to keep going for a while or if he was going to hit his end too, but he wouldn't put it past the other to keep pushing, and while Jackson was becoming a shaking exhausted mess, he was stupid enough to keep taking whatever was thrown at him for his pride's sake. In this moment he was suddenly thankful to have his face turned back down, the other's teeth digging against his neck in a beautiful way, because then Icarus wouldn't be able to see the way his eyes were watered, whether it be from the pleasure or the pain, he didn't know. He lets out a shuddering breath when Icarus lets go of his cock, only to have his body engulfed by the other's warm arms, driving himself into Jackson deeper than before and it makes his eyes screw shut, and lips part wide as noise, almost animalistic, escapes him as his head falls back against Icarus's shoulder. " fuck ." He says in a weak, low groan as Icarus buries himself a final time, feeling himself be filled in the best way possible, practically gasping for air at this point, his arms and legs shaking slightly, threatening to give way if it weren't for Icarus's strong arms wrapped around him holding him close.

Icarus: He hates to admit it, but he's a little shaky himself after that climax- in fact, he thought it might've been the best one to date. Taking long, deep breaths, Icarus stayed put for a couple moments more, needing to gather himself, his length slowly softening inside Jackson until eventually he could just slip himself out of the man- though he remained close. Sure, part of him was ready to just roll over, get his things and bid Jackson farewell before he headed back to his suite- but the bigger part of him wouldn't allow that. Icarus prided himself in everything he did, he thought himself to be the best of the best- and he wouldn't be the best if he went around wrecking people and then leaving them high and dry. He wasn't aware of all the technicalities, wouldn't even know to call it aftercare, but he never just bailed on his partners- not if they'd had a serious romp, quickies and things of the like were a little different. But what he'd just done with Jackson? Nah. He was an asshole, yea, but he wasn't a complete jackass. Shifting a little, Icarus rolled Jackson over so he was laying on his back, moving himself so he was laying on his side behind the man, still catching his breath as he looked the other over to make sure he was still, y'know, breathing. "You're not dead, are you?" he can't help but smirk breathlessly- but he still reaches up to absently brush Jackson's hair back from his face.

Jackson: Jackson's breath continues to be laboured, the rush of it all going to his head, making him dizzy and lightheaded. His eyes blink closed for a moment, sucking in a breath and letting it out slowly as he felt Icarus work to gather himself behind him. The other pulling out causes a little noise to fall from his mouth, but he doesn't care at this point, his body exhausted and spent. Jackson was a sucker for this feeling. After Icarus pulls out, he doesn't pull away, instead letting himself be pliable to the other, not that he really had much of a choice with how he felt. He shifts, helping a little till he was on his back, laying back with a small 'oof' a hand resting on his stomach, his chest rising and lowering with each long breath, body slightly damp from sweat and exertion. His body feels heavy, like he could just sink into the floor, and stay there forever. He blinks, eyes glancing over and a lazy grin pulling at the corners of his lips. "I might be..." He breathes, looking at the other. "It'd be one hell of a way to go." He's caught a little off guard by the other's fingers brushing his hair out of his face, but even more so by the fact that it takes actual effort for him not to try to shift closer. His eyes graze over the other's face, the grin growing slightly, giving himself a moment to appreciate it.

Icarus: "It'd be the best way to go," he snorts in clarification, his eyes lingering on Jackson's face for a couple beats longer than necessary before he too rolls over so he's laying on his back beside the other man. For a moment, neither of them says anything, the room filled just with the sound of their heavy breathing. Jackson's okay, he can see that much, and while some part of him recognises that it'd be very easy to just toss an arm over the man and haul him closer, he resists. He compensates by sticking close enough that their sides are touching though, classic concept, soothing by physical contact, just letting the other person know that you were there with them. He doesn't know yet if Jackson even cares, and there's a good chance he wouldn't be receptive of it, but Icarus doesn't care- he'll do his part because his ego demands it of him. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't take him long to gather himself, and soon he's getting to his feet, stretching his long limbs before finding his clothes and redressing himself in the span of a couple seconds. What happens next is perhaps a little unorthodox, or at least it's something Jackson hasn't witnessed from him next- he gathers Jackson's clothes and brings them back to him, methodically proceeding to redress the man with a surprisingly gentle hand. "I'm not going to spend my night on a dirty floor," he says as he finishes dressing Jackson- and then proceeds to scoop the man into his arms bridal style, not leaving any room for protest. "I'm taking you back to my suite," he said as he made his way out of the lounge, heading towards the suites.

Jackson: There's a moment between them, both men staring at each other before Icarus rolls over and Jackson's gaze shifts upwards to look at the ceiling. His breath was starting to even out a little, but he was also realizing just how drunk he still was as the room around him spins a little. The corner of Jackson's mouth turns up ever so slightly at the feeling of Icarus's warm skin against his arm, and he honestly could have almost turned over to wrap himself around the other's large body. But Icarus got up and the moment was, gone, and Jackson could feel his eyes drooping a little, the exhaustion and the alcohol trying to claim his consciousness. Even on a regular day it barely takes anything for Jackson to pass out, so with everything stacked against him like this, he was already halfway there by the time Icarus had returned to his side, making his eyes open up a little more again. He had full intentions of just passing out there. He'd slept in worse places, at least this was warm, and indoors, though whoever wandered into the lounge in the morning would have to be surprised by a very naked man passed out in the middle of the room. Jackson is more surprised by the fact that he lets Icarus dress him than he is that Icarus is redressing him after all of that. "Didn't think you would." He mumbles with a little look, figuring Icarus wasn't exactly the 'pass out wherever you are' kind of guy. "Hey." He says, though there's no power behind his voice when he's scooped up, and for a moment he's impressed again by the supernaturals strength before realizing how ridiculous he must look. "Oh you are, huh?" He says, though his voice is clearly tired, sleep trying desperately to over take him, and honestly was winning out. His eyes blink slowly and lazily, and hell, he wasn't going to complain about getting a decent place to sleep for the night, and he was really too drunk and tired to question it. So instead he finds it all too easy to rest his head against the other's broad shoulder, trying very hard to keep his eyes open, but it was a losing battle.

Icarus: "Yup, I am," he smirked as they made their way out of the building and down the path that led to the residential building. It was late, probably some time around two or three in the morning, but of course there were still a couple people out and about- unsurprising considering that there were species around who either didn't need sleep or preferred to be up during the night rather than the day. He doesn't care about anyone seeing them, though he wonders if Jackson would mind- Icarus figured that the man would definitely have something to say about people catching him in such a vulnerable position, but lucky he was drunk enough, and worn out enough, that he was dozing before Icarus was even half way there. Once they were inside his suite, Icarus heads straight for his room, laying Jackson down on one side of the large bed before pulling his shoes and clothes off again, dropping them carelessly to the side of the bed before disrobing himself. They're both dirty and grimy, but Icarus is too tired to go through the process of bathing them both- he'd just change the sheets in the morning, no big. With Jackson under the covers, Icarus slips out of the room once more to grab a water bottle and a bottle of tylenol before placing both on the nightstand on Jackson's side. With all that done, Icarus finally lets himself fall belly first onto the bed, blinking once, twice, at the sight of Jackson beside him before he was fast asleep as well.

Jackson: He didn't argue. If he'd been sober, maybe he would have. Maybe he would have been too damn proud to be carried like that, but he was drunk, and he was happy and his body ached and he loved it. His breath fell heavier as he started to fall asleep in Icarus's arms, something he would definitely deny later on. The next moments are hazy for him, slipping in and out of sleep as they enter Icarus's suite, a small grunt falling from his lips as he's laid down on the bed, though his body instantly relaxes into the softness of it. After Icarus undresses him, his body curls to the side, drifting off a little more soundly almost instantly and he doesn't even wake when Icarus falls into the bed. While Jackson is someone that can sleep practically anywhere, he could even admit that night was one of the best sleeps he'd ever had. And at some point in the night, whether it be instinctual, or something else that made him subconsciously do it, Jackson found himself curling up against Icarus, arms wrapping around the other as best he could, cheek tucked in and pressed against the man's shoulder, looking far too soft and innocent than he would have liked to admit.

Icarus: Icarus woke to the feeling of arms wrapped around his torso, a warm body curled into his side- and what's more, his arm was wrapped around the smaller form in turn, holding it close. He blinked a couple times to clear his vision, a little confused at first, but then his eyes adjusted to the lowlight of the room, sunlight streaming in through the cracks of the blinds. A look to the clock that sat atop his bedside table told him it was well into the morning, and a look to his other side reminded him why he was only just waking up. Jackson. Angling his head, Icarus took a second to look over the sleeping man- he looked almost like a completely different person. His features were soft, almost innocent, brow relaxed, lips slightly parted, lashes curling against his cheekbones. Icarus allowed himself to take in the sight for another couple moments before he figured it was getting a little too intimate for his liking. "You're drooling," he said finally, his voice low and husky with sleep as he lightly nudged the other man. "Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty."

Jackson: If anyone were to ask, Jackson's excuse for the way he was tucked in beside the other was that he was just drawn to warmth, and maybe that was half of the reason. But he couldn't deny how damn comfortable it was to be curled close around the other. Snoring softly, his grip on the other was fairly solid for someone who was fast asleep. For as rough as Jackson was around the edges, when it came to him and sleeping, he was down right adorable, though he would punch anyone in the face for saying that. He was still fast asleep when Icarus awoke, and would have likely been asleep for at least a few more hours had the other not nudged him. Jackson makes a small noise, eyes not opening, but his nose scrunches up a bit, tucking himself in a little closer without even realizing it. "Fuck off." He mumbles against the other.

Icarus: Icarus snorted in lazy amusement, his fingers carding through Jackson's hair for a moment. He was indifferent about cuddling- he didn't crave it usually, but he wasn't opposed to it either. Usually it was his partners who'd instigate it, assuming he let them spend the night. So he didn't mind the way Jackson curled up around him, per se, he was just still a little surprised the man was such a cuddler. The first time it'd happened, he'd been a little caught off guard, but not necessarily in a bad way. At the very least, it gave him something to tease the other man about later, the fact that he looked like a dozing cherub. "Of course," he smirked, rolling his eyes. "Hangover?"

Jackson: Jackson usually tried to starve off this side of himself, the side that craved the closeness and the touch of another, and he never would admit that he was such a sucker for cuddling, though in these moment it was a little too obvious. But when he was sleeping his body did this on its own accord, making itself its most comfortable. For someone who ran fairly warm all the time you’d think sharing body heat with another would become too much but Jackson loved it. He hums softly agains the hand through his hair, still mostly asleep but that was changing since the other seemed to be set on waking him up. Jackson shifts slightly, muscles sore and protesting, his mouth dry and tacky. Letting out another little groan his eyes finally blink open slowly, squinting against the sun. “Fuck.” He mumbles, eyes desperately wanting to close again to go back to sleep. That’s when he registers the body beside him, the broad torso that his arms were wrapped around, legs tangled together. Fuck. Blinking a few more times he forces himself out of sleep, painstakingly extracting his arms from around the other, shifting and rolling onto his back, skin cool from the sudden absence. He runs a lazy hand over his face, another groan coming from his dry throat, his head starting to pound lightly. “ ‘m fine.” He mumbles, lying.

Icarus: As a Light Elf, Icarus was a morning person, though he did on occasion sleep in just because he could. His people were at their strongest during the daytime, under the sunlight, so that wasn't very surprising, but it was very clear that Jackson, on the other hand, would be content to sleep through the day. He found that lots of humans were like that, especially the young adults and teens. Normally, Icarus would've already been up and showered, getting a start on his day, even if it meant lounging around the house for a couple hours- but he'd decided to stay in bed a little longer, on account of the fact that he had a guest. Icarus lets out a little chuckle when Jackson curses at the sun, no doubt wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, but he wasn't going to let that happen. He doesn't stop Jackson when he moves away, instead opting to tuck his hands behind his head, the thin sheets tangled low on his hips. "Sure you are," he smirked when Jackson said he was fine- a lie, of course. "There's still water and tylenol on the table though," he adds nonchalantly, closing his eyes again. "You know, if you're feeling a little less than fine," he smirked.

Jackson: Jackson stretches out slowly, sleep still trying to cling to him desperately like it always did. He slept too much, he knew that, but he was always tired and sleeping was just so much easier than anything else. And who could blame him, being in such a comfortable bed with soft sheets with a... he peeks over a little taking in a small look at the other and fuck ... with a suitably attractive man to cuddle up against. Jackson furrows his brow and gives Icarus a small look before stretching over to grab the water and Tylenol anyways, body groaning a little in protest. He pops two of the pills in his mouth, that instant reflex in his mind wishing it was something stronger, before downing half the water bottle. He glances down at his chest, the bite marks and the hickies blooming beautifully like a design created just for him, and he could only imagine what his neck looked like. This pulls a little chuckle from his lips as he glances over at the other for a moment. “You’re quite the artist.”

Icarus: Jackson looked a mess- and it wasn't even the hangover, though he'd probably attribute the dark circles under his eyes to that. The rest of it, well, he figured he was to thank for it- the disheveled hair, the swollen lips, the numerous marks and bruises littered all over his body. In truth, he didn't even remember making half of them, so caught up in the moment, but now that he could see them in all their glory, he couldn't help a self satisfied smirk. "Yea, I've heard that one before," he grins, sitting up a little, propped up with a pillow at his back so he could watch Jackson a little easier as the man goes about taking the painkillers he'd set aside for him. Icarus had always thought Jackson was an attractive man, but those marks, he couldn't help but think they made him even more attractive- mostly because he'd been the one to put them there. "You might as well just walk around naked for the next couple days," he grinned, bouncing his eyebrows at the other man. "For now though, you need a shower. You reek."

Jackson: Jackson thought to himself that if he looked half as rough as he felt, then he probably looked pretty damn rough. He was lucky he didn’t have classes that day, not that it would have stopped him from just skipping them, figuring that sitting in the lecture hall chairs for too long likely wouldn’t have been the most comfortable right now. He puts the water bottle back on the night stand, sitting up more himself, know if he laid back down he’d probably just pass out again. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He says with a lazy grin and a little raise of his brow, though knowing Jackson he’d probably try to find excuses to go shirtless when he could just to show them off. Jackson shoots Icarus a little glare at his next comment, pulling the pillow from behind him and tossing it at Icarus’s face. “Asshole.” He says though there’s a little chuckle behind his tone. He did stink, like sweat and alcohol, and hell, if he could catch a shower in Icarus’s suite instead of the lousy ones in the cells, he wouldn’t complain. He takes his time shifting over the side of the bed, stifling the groan as he stands, realizing just how sore he was, the consequences for just how rough they’d been. Back turned away from the other for a moment, glancing down and running his thumb along a particularly large and dark circular bruise on his hip with a chuckle.

Icarus: "Makes no difference to me- you could wear a turtleneck and there'd still be marks that are visible," he smirked in response, giving Jackson a sideways look- perhaps that wasn't the complete truth, he did like the idea of Jackson walked around with all those marks on display. He was a territorial creature by nature, possessive too- he liked it when others saw his handiwork, it made him feel accomplished in a weird way. But he wouldn't let that on to Jackson, he could already imagine what the other man would have to say about it. Icarus laughs as the pillow comes sailing his way, easily flicking his wrist to have the item fall harmlessly to the bed between them. "Hey, I'm hardly an asshole for telling the truth," he chuckled- of course, he needed a bath himself, after having fallen straight into bed the night before. He could feel twelve layers of grime upon his skin, and that'd have to be remedied as soon as possible. Icarus watches as Jackson gets to his feet, more pleased than he cares to admit as he watches the way the man's legs are slightly bowed, his ass still reddened with a hear perfect handprint. "Shower's down the hall on your left," he said before swinging his legs out of bed himself, getting to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. "Towels are in there, and since your clothes probably need to be burned, you can borrow something once you're done."

Jackson: Jackson rolls his eyes, even though the comment is true. Icarus sure had a thing for marking him up, and Jackson had never been one to shy away from having a few bruises. He glances over his shoulder, sneaking a peek for a moment with a little smirk. A part of him wanted to make a snarky remark about the other joining him in the shower, but if he was being honest, he didn't know if his body could handle a round two, that with the soreness and the hangover that clung onto him. He wonders for a moment if he'll get a chance to raid the other's liquor cabinet, hair of the dog and all. He turns to properly look at Icarus, raising a brow before glancing down at the heap of his clothes. "What is it with everyone here trying to destroy my clothes." He shakes his head, adding a light chuckle, though he has a momentary thought of Lucas literally shredding his clothing off of him with a whip, something he most definitely wasn't about to bring up, but at this rate he wasn't going to have much for clothing left, and he still had to find a job, not that he'd really looked that hard. Rolling his eyes again he scoops up his clothes anyways, though he had to admit, they were rather rank. "Fine." He mutters, figuring clean clothes were better than that. Jackson moves, shuffling his way out of the room towards the bathroom, working extra hard to try to walk as normally as possible, despite the way his body strained, but he didn't want to give Icarus the satisfaction.

Icarus: "Probably because they're yours," he teased with a smirk over his shoulder, still in the buff as he absently scratched his abdomen before moving off to open the blinds, letting himself be bathed in the glimmering rays. That, to him, was just as revitalizing as a power nap, his body almost glowing, literally, under the light. "That being said, your clothes are just gross, at this point, stained with who knows what. Probably easier to just toss them- if you're really attached to them, I guess you can have them washed," he chuckled with a shrug- it didn't matter to him, either way, he just figured Jackson would be more comfortable in fresh clothes, it was how he felt himself, after all. Icarus watched Jackson leave for a moment, the smirk returning again, and then he was out of sight. Once the other man was gone, Icarus went about tossing his own clothes into the wash before stripping his bed of all the sheets and comforters. If his mother and sisters could see him now, they'd be astonished- back home, Icarus didn't have to lift a finger or do anything himself. The palace maids and servants tended to everything, from the cooking to the cleaning to the laundry- he literally didn't have to do anything for himself if he didn't want to. Which, lets be real, he didn't want to. But since his banishment, he'd had to learn how to do everything himself, though of course he could hire people to do certain things here and there. Not wanting to handle the clean sheets while he was still unbathed, he contemplated for a moment before heading to the washroom himself. The water was still running, so he just stepped into the shower without so much as a grunt in warning. Luckily, the showers in the suites were set up so that there was a showerhead on either end of the large stall, and so he just moved to the unoccupied one wordlessly, the water cascading over his body.

Jackson: The sight of Icarus in the sun is one that Jackson has to tear himself away from, and he really did need to figure out what the other was, because he was practically glowing. Making his way to the bathroom, absently scratching the back of his hair. He takes a moment standing in front of the mirror, snickering a little at all the marks that took up his neck, the largest at the base. He shakes his head with a little chuckle before looking at the clothes in his hands. Icarus was right. They weren’t in great shape to begin with, and after a day of drinking and his rather strenuous activities with the elf, he didn’t know if they were worth salvaging. He shrugs, tossing them in the waste bin, figuring maybe he could con one of the masters here into buying him some new clothes if he really needed. Turning on the shower, jackson steps under the stream, the water scalding hot, steam already rising into the air. He liked his showers like he enjoyed everything else, hot. He closes his eyes, letting the water wash over him, his skin turning pink from the heat, and he enjoys the solitude for a moment. Being a slave at the institute didn’t allow for much alone time, especially in the showers where there was really very little privacy. Not that Jackson cared too much, since he’d dealt with similar living situations before, but this was nice. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, letting the water run over his sore muscles when Icarus suddenly steps in, Jackson opening an eye with a raised brow and a smirk. “Can’t get enough of me, can you?” He says, turning to look at the other, running a hand over his wet hair, pushing it back out of his eyes.

Icarus: "More like I can't get enough of being clean- but sure, if that makes you feel better about yourself, we can go with that answer," he smirked, looking over his shoulder at Jackson before dipping his head under the stream of water. It was true, Icarus had come into the showers without waiting because he just couldn't handle the grimy feeling that was all but seeping into his skin- but even despite that, he was starting to realize that, slowly but surely, Jackson was becoming one of his favourite people to fuck on the island. But he'd keep that to himself for the time being. Reaching for the shampoo, Icarus turned to face Jackson as he lathered up his hair, looking like something out of a commercial for what it was worth. "Besides, I doubt you could handle any more after last night," he teased, flashing a charming grin as his mind imprinted the sight of Jackson all soaking wet to his memory. "You're already walking funny- wouldn't want to stick you in a wheelchair now."

Jackson: “Mhm, sure.” Jackson says with a sly grin and a little raise of his brows. Jackson takes a moment to marvel the others physique for a few moments, and he wasn’t too secretive about it then, because hell, even icarus knew he was hot. Jackson watches him shampoo and shakes his head slightly, reaching out to grab the shampoo from the other. For a moment, it feels strangely domestic, and it almost makes Jackson want to make the moment sexual just to push away from that. But it passes when the other teases him and he snorts. “Fuck off, I am not. You know I’m a hell of a lot more durable than you think.” This was a lie, he was sore as fuck, but he was also proud as fuck. He lathers up the shampoo in his own hair before tilting his head back a bit to rinse it out, enjoying the feeling of the hot water on his back. “Y’know the slaves showers never get this hot. Fucking sucks. Might just have to come round more often.” He says with a smirk before turning around again to face the stream of water.

Icarus: Icarus simply watches Jackson as the man watches him- and if his biceps look particularly flexed while he's lathering his hair, well, he's totally not doing it on purpose. He lets the other take the shampoo from him, taking that moment to step back into the water, letting the suds wash out of his hair and down his body. "I don't know about that- seems like half the time I see you, you're broken something or the other or you've bruised something or you've sprained something. I'm starting to wonder if you're just extra susceptible to injury," he teased, smoothing his hair back from his face before reaching for his body wash. "Pretty sure that's just a ploy to keep you all miserable- there's no real reason the hot water down there shouldn't be as good as it is up here," he chuckled, though he quirked his brow at the comment that followed. "Oh?" he asked with a smirk, taking a couple steps forward, prompting Jackson to back up against the shower wall. "Sounds like it's you who can't get enough of me."

Jackson: It wasn’t often that Jackson met someone that was more cocky and more arrogant than him, but Icarus fit just that, and though he didn’t want to admit it, something about that kept drawing Jackson in. How the man managed to look like a goddamn model all the time though, that was beyond him. Jackson chuckles a little shaking his head because, well, the other isn’t wrong. It had been a long while since Jackson hadn’t been injured or bruised in someway, even before the island. Hell, he’d spent most of his lift looking in some state of disarray, and he usually had his mouth to blame for that. “I dunno, I’m holding up pretty damn well against you.” He says with a smirk. “Make our lives shitty enough so we go running to the nearest master that’ll take us.” He says with a chuckle, though there’s a hint of bitterness in there that he’s trying to mask. It was different around icarus, sure they joked about the dynamic here on the island, but it didn’t really feel real around the other, like the collar around Jackson’s neck was nothing more than a strange fashion choice. Swivelling around as the other stepped closer to face icarus as he’s backed against the shower wall, Jackson smirks a little, greedy hands pressing against the others abdomen. “ Or, I just can’t get enough of your shower.” He says raising a brow, while his eyes trail a little lower. “Though the other amenities don’t hurt.”

Icarus: "You think so? How about we go for a jog after this, hmm? I'm sure we can figure out just how well you're doing after that," he teased, flashing the man a grin that told the other he definitely hadn't missed the way he was walking a little funny- and boy did that do his ego good. "And I guess? Isn't that the point around here? To ultimately end up claimed by someone- for better or for worse?" he asked, quirking a brow- in truth, he wasn't sure. He'd met some slaves who were trying their hardest to find someone nice to claim them, but he'd also met others who seemed opposed to the idea altogether. He wondered where Jackson fell on that spectrum. "And it is a pretty great shower," he smirked, the water cascading down over him as he braced one hand on the wall by Jackson's head so he could lean in close. "But let's be real- you're not thinking about the shower right now," he taunted, leaning in to nip at the curve of the man's jaw. He could feel himself getting hard slowly but surely, but that wasn't something he could help when Jackson was literally right there. And gloriously naked to boot. But he probably wouldn't fuck the other just yet- as much as the desire was there, he wasn't actually trying to break Jackson or put him in a wheelchair. And so he let up a little, focussing instead of rising off the body wash, though he remained under Jackson's showerhead rather than going back to his. "I guess you'll expect me to feed you after this?" he smirked, eyes closed.

Jackson: Jackson rolled his eyes at the comment. He'd never really been one for jogging anyways, not with his smokers lungs and his chronic laziness, unless he was running from someone that is. Running in this condition though he knew wouldn't be pleasant at all. Jackson makes a small face, tilting his head with a shrug. If he was being honest, he tried to not really think about that aspect of the island. Sure there was a part of him that wouldn't mind having someone take him in, take care of him, let him mooch off their more lavish lifestyle, he was pretty lazy after all. But there was also his pride, and the fact that at the rate he was going, and claims he likely would have would be for worse. "It is..." Jackson muses, chin tilting up to look at Icarus as the other leans closer to him. Fuck. It was like the other was a drug himself, the way his presence brought out something in Jackson that didn't seem to come out nearly as much anymore. His fingers splay against the other's abs before tracing around to his hips. "Maybe, maybe not." He hums, head tilting ever so slightly against the lips to his jaw and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't getting aroused quickly. But Icarus shifts back a fraction and Jackson lets out a little breath, hands falling from the other's hips, eyes flashing with a little annoyance at the distance. Sure, he knew that he was sore, and tired, but he never claimed to be smart. He was always an impulsive person, driving by instincts, and right now he had a gorgeous man in front of him who just insisted on teasing. Jackson keeps his eyes open while they other's are closed, taking a moment to appreciate the view, his own playful smirk settling on his lips. "Well if you wanna be a good host..." He says with a little tilt of his head, running his tongue along his bottom lip, shifting just a touch closer because he just couldn't help himself.

Icarus: "Maybe, maybe not, my ass," he snorts, eyes still closed as he runs his fingers through his hair, eyes still closed. He can feel Jackson's eyes on him, knows that the other is likely checking him out, and he doesn't do anything, allowing the other to look his fill. In truth, he'd done that himself while Jackson had been sleeping, so it was only fair. "I can all but hear what you're thinking, you're doing it so loud," he teases, and then, without opening his eyes, he reaches out and wraps one long arm around Jackson before hauling him in. The smaller form collides against his own, and he doesn't waste any time before dipping his head and covering the other man's lips with his, stealing his breath in a deep kiss. Just as abruptly as he'd grabbed him, Icarus released him and stepped out of the spray of water, opening a waterproof compartment built into the shower wall so he could grab himself a towel. "Right, well, do you have any requests for the good host?" he asked with a smirk as he dried himself off on the other end of the shower. "Can't say I'm much of a chef, but I can manage a thing or two."

Jackson: Jackson’s brow raises a fraction at the comment, his lips turning up a little more. “Is that so?” He says and before he gets a chance to say anything else Icarus is pulling him close, and if he wasn’t aroused before he was well on his way to being as their bodies collide. He tilts his head up anticipating the kiss, hands moving to run up Icarus’s sides to his chest. He presses himself close, but far too quickly Icarus is pulling back and Jackson is left wanting far more. He narrows his eyes a little at the man, eyes rolling. “Asshole.” He hisses playfully watching Icarus get out of the shower, running a hand through his own hair before following suit. Patting himself down with a towel before rubbing it over his hair. “I’ll be honest, I’ll eat practically anything, so even if you fuck it up, I’ll probably still eat it.” He says before wrapping the towel around his waist.

Icarus: "Just remember you said that," he chuckled, throwing Jackson a smirk over his shoulder as he left the washroom and headed back towards his room, all without bothering to wrap the towel around himself. By the time Jackson followed him there, he was already pulling on a pair of sweats before tossing a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt at the man, opting to go shirtless himself. "Those should probably fit you- I think. You are such a tiny little thing," he teased, pausing to playfully pinch Jackson's cheek as he passed. "I'll be in the kitchen when you're done," he added, smacking Jackson's ass as he breezed out of the room, leaving the other man to himself. Once he was in the kitchen, Icarus drummed his fingers against the counter, wondering what to make. First things first though- coffee. With a fresh pot going, he then pulled out a couple skillets and pans and got to work on eggs and bacon- he could do the basics, and he figured Jackson would be wanting some greasy food considering the hangover he must have.

Jackson: It’s amazing Jackson didn’t get dizzy with all the eye rolling he did when he was around Icarus. He follows the taller man back to his room, and shook his head at how Icarus just seemed to always move so quickly, or at least, he did compared to Jackson’s usual sluggish pace. He catches the clothes, eyes narrowing, swatting Icarus’s hand away. “Just because you’re freakishly tall does mean I’m actually all that short y’know.” He says, jumping ever so slightly to the smack to his ass, which was admittedly sore. Jackson waits for the other to leave before pulling up the shorts, which he may have rolled the waist band over so he wasn’t swimming in them, though there was not much that could be done about the shirt that looked a bit too baggy. Jackson takes a few extra minutes sitting on the bed, yawning, having half a mind to just curl up back under the blankets to sleep more. But his stomach growls when the scent of breakfast wafting into the room. This coaxes Jackson away from the bed to wander into the kitchen, taking a little bit of a deeper breath in. “Mmmm coffee.” He says heading straight towards the smell, helping himself to a mug because of course he’d done some snooping on some of his previous visits and knew where they were. Pouring himself a glass, he wanders over to where he knew the alcohol was, dancing his fingers over the bottles before pulling out some whiskey and topping it up. Finally he turns, taking a sip as he shuffles his way back to the other, leaning his elbows against the counter as he continues to sip the coffee. “Looks good.” He says though his eyes linger a little longer on icarus then they do on the food.

Icarus: "Nah, you're just freakishly short," he teased, though in actuality, Jackson was right- the man was about average height, it was him who was taller than normal. But why blame himself when he could blame Jackson for it? While Icarus went about cooking breakfast, he did briefly wonder what was taking Jackson so long- either he was raiding his room for items he could pawn off or he'd crawled back into bed, he was betting on the latter. But lo and behold, a short while later, the man in question appeared, still looking a little worn, but at least he was up. Icarus didn't bother to tell Jackson to help himself, the man had been doing so since the first time he'd stepped into his suite, after all. He didn't glance over his shoulder when he heard the nearly inaudible clink of bottles either- he probably wouldn't have advised it, no, but he was a firm believer in not getting involved in other people's business. Jackson was an adult, though arguably he didn't always act it, if he wanted to drink midday, then he could do so- it wasn't like it was hurting Icarus. "Yea, tastes good too," he responded, tossing a wink over his shoulder to allude that he wasn't just talking about the food either. "Stick some bread in the toaster- it's over there," he said, rather than asked, pointing with the spatula over to wear the loaf of bread and toaster were. "And pour me some coffee."

Jackson: Jackson grins at Icarus, watching him make the food, zoning out for a moment while he stifles a yawn. He raises a brow at Icarus when he tells him to make the toast. "And here I thought I was the guest." He jokes, pushing himself away from the counter before snuffling over towards the toaster, moving slowly. He takes a sip of his coffee before setting it down, popping a few pieces of bread into the toaster. He moves on to the coffee, pouring Icarus a mug full before turning back to face the other. "Milk? Sugar? Whiskey?" He asks with a tilt of his head.

Icarus: "You are- and around here, we put the guests to work. You know, like earning your keep," he smirked over his shoulder, drying his hands on a nearby dishtowel before tossing it over his bare shoulder and returning to work. If someone had asked him decades ago if he'd have ever been in this position, all domestic in the kitchen, he'd have laughed in their face and made some sort of bratty joke about it- but look where he was. Allora and Laena would be proud, not to mention their mother- Elyria though, she'd probably want to check if he was an impostor. Icarus gives Jackson a side-eyed grin as he waddles about the kitchen, but he opts not to say anything about it for the moment. "Sugar," he responds, reaching out to turn off the stoves, "Lots of it- I've got a sweettooth," he chuckles. "I tend not to put whiskey in my morning coffee."

Jackson: "I figured last night should have earned me plenty." He says with a cheeky look. Of course Icarus looked just as good in the kitchen as he did everywhere else, though seeing this side of him was different. Jackson wrinkles his nose a little as he turns to add the sugar as requested. Besides the whiskey, he preferred his coffee black. There was something about the bitterness of it that seemed to help with waking him up. He moves up beside the man, maybe a little closer than necessary, before sliding the mug on the counter beside him. "Here's your sugar with a little bit of coffee." He says with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "You're loss." He says with a shrug in regards to the whiskey before glancing back at the sound of the toast popping. "Butter?" He asks as he steps away from Icarus, continuing to help without being prompted, which honestly was a bit of a rarity for him.

Icarus: “Oh? Did we do something last night? I can't recall," he teased, grinning down at the eggs as he deemed them to be finished- perhaps a little well done, but far from inedible- the bacon, however, was perfect, and he proved that to himself by popping a piece in his mouth and humming. Back home they didn't just buy food in supermarkets, obviously- most food was scavenged for and hunted in the expansive forests surrounding and running through the realm and then sold at outdoor markets for the common folk and delivered to their homes for the higher classes. He'd never had to hunt for his own food, obviously, but he'd been done it before, just for the experience really- of course, any kills made sure used to the fullest, they didn't believe in wastefulness. That was one thing that took a little getting used to in the human realm- people seemed to be very wasteful and entitled- and that was coming from him. "Aw, thanks, honey," he grinned when Jackson brought over his coffee, leaning back against the counter as he took a sip. "Yea, butter- who eats toast without butter?" he snorted, grabbing a couple plates from one of the cupboards and setting them out before piling them both with eggs and bacon. "I'll go put these at the table, bring the toast when it's done," he said before moving off to the dining table- it might've been surprising, but it was another one of those things that stuck from back home. Having meals together around a table with his family. It was just instinctive for him to eat at a table with others when he had company, nothing more, nothing less.

Jackson: That comment did prompt Jackson to shove an elbow into the other's ribs, not bothering to even be gentle about it. He was a fairly physical person, and while he was quick with his words, he was even faster to use his fists. By this point his stomach was grumbling and he was looking forward to the meal, which he was sure would be better than the crap they served them in the cafeteria, even if Icarus said he wasn't the best cook. Jackson makes a small face at being called honey. Rolling his eyes he butters the toast quickly before following Icarus to the dining table. It almost felt a little formal, sitting at the table like that, since in his experience eating at the table was something only that was done on special events like Christmas. His mom had worked a lot when he was younger, which meant a lot of his meals were had on the couch while watching TV, or scarfing his food down quick so he could go out with friends. Even when his mother got married, and his step dad tried get them to eat together at the table as a family, Jackson had been so determined to defy him that he barely was home around dinner time, and then when Zach and Olivia came along, the family just got too busy with having two toddlers. He was sure now his family probably did that, though he didn't like to think about them for too long. Jackson sat, picking up a piece of bacon with his fingers and biting off a piece, giving a nod of approval before popping the rest into his mouth. "Guess you're not half bad after all."

Icarus: Icarus snorted in amusement when Jackson elbowed him, "nice form," he joked- but he might have been more truthful than he let on about that. Jackson was scrappy, he had no doubt the man could land a good punch or two and hold his own in a fight. Assuming the fight was with another human, of course. Lowering into his seat, setting Jackson's plate across from him, Icarus waited until the other joined him at the table. "Habit," he explained, without being asked, because he knew the whole 'sitting at the table' thing wasn't all that common anymore- especially when it came to a man who lived alone and would be considered 'young' by most standards. "My mother was very big on the whole family sitting together for meals- and she's not a lady you cross," he chuckled, shaking his head at the memories of getting one hell of a talking to for trying to skip out on meals together with Elyria. "What can I say, I'm a man of many talents," he smirked, spooning some eggs into his mouth before taking a bite of toast. Sure, it might've been a little more domestic than he'd prefer, but Icarus wasn't a complete ass- if he fucked the life out of someone, then he was going to at least feed them in the morning before sending them off. "What about you? Any culinary expertise? Your iced tea is passable, at the very least."

Jackson: "I know it is." He says with a snort, knowing full well that he never really had much for form. But Jackson knew how to land a punch and make it hurt and that's all that really mattered to him. Digging into the food, he could have almost groaned with how good it was. Sure, he'd eat practically anything, but he could appreciate food that wasn't the shit they fed them in the slaves cafeteria. "I don't think I've eaten at a proper dining table in over six months, well not if you count those shitty cafeteria tables we gotta eat at." He says with a shrug, though he knew exactly when the last time he had been. It was the last dinner he'd had with his mom, step dad and siblings, when he'd been 'clean', or at least, pretending to be clean. Shortly after things started to go down hill. Swallowing, he didn't really want to think about it too much. He had a moment where he thought about the other man's family, not having really thought about him too much other than the fact that he was incredibly hot and incredibly good at fucking. But it lasts only that moment before he's asked a question himself. "Well, I can make toast, clearly." He says with a smirk, biting into his toast. "And a mean mac and cheese from a box. It's not exactly a hidden talent of mine."

Icarus: "You're not exactly missing much, to be honest," he chuckled when Jackson mentioned that he hadn't been at a dinner table in some time. To be honest, it'd been a while since he'd had a full out feast with his entire family around a table as well- and as much as he wanted to pretend that that wasn't a little sad, it really was. He missed his family, even his father, it was a big change after being with the whole lot of them every day for nearly nine centuries after all. He did wonder briefly what kind of a background Jackson came from, what his family situation was, but it wasn't like they got together to have heart to hearts or talk about their pasts. More often than not he was either healing Jackson or fucking him, they hadn't gotten around to doing much more than that. "I don't know, I think the toast is a little dry," he teased, flashing the man a cheeky grin as he took another bite of it. "Can't say I'm a fan of mac and cheese though- tastes very...processed," he explained, scooping some eggs into his mouth with a shrug. Back home, all the food they ate was fresh, prepared the day it was gathered usually- processed food definitely wasn't a thing. It was something he'd had to get used to a little since being in the earthen realms, but he still avoided it when he could. "Guess that means you're of no use to me," he smirked, taking a bite of the bacon. "Then again, I guess I could just keep you around to refill my iced tea."

Jackson: Jackson continued to eat, but the more that he ate, and the emptier his plate got, the more he was realizing just how domestic this all was, and he figured he'd have to make a pretty quick exit soon. There was really only so long they could toss around surface level casual small talk before things got weird. Jackson narrows his eyes, kicking Icarus under the table. "Excuse me, the toast is perfect. You just have bad taste." He eases his expression and laughs shaking his head. "Processed as fuck, but it's the American way, isn't it?" He'd grown up on mostly processed, easy to make food since it was cheap and easy, and for a single mother with a rambunctious boy, Jackson's mother had just been happy to get him to sit down and eat anything."You really do have a terrible memory don't you? You seem to keep forgetting just how much use I was to you last night." He says with a bounce of his brows and a smile before shovelling another obnoxiously full fork full of eggs into his mouth. "The amount of iced tea your drink must cannot be healthy." He says, though he wasn't exactly one to talk.

Icarus: "Well I must, if I've seen you more than three times in one week," he retorted with a smirk when Jackson called out his taste- juvenile? Perhaps, but Icarus never claimed to be able to act his age. "And yea, it sure seems to be the American way- unfortunately. How do you people eat that stuff on the daily?" he asked curiously, genuinely wanting to know. While he could tolerate the occasional highly processed food here and there, he definitely wouldn't be able to keep it up day in and day out like he'd seen most people in the human realm do. In fairness, his physiology wasn't adapted to it, his body had gotten used to unprocessed foods over the centuries. "It doesn't even taste as good as the natural stuff," he went on with a little shrug as he ate the last of the food off his plate before reaching for his coffee. "And what can I say, I've got this tendency to blank out unsavory memories," he teased with a short chuckle before taking a sip of his coffee. "I'd also like to point out that I only use honey to sweeten my iced tea and raw cane sugar for everything else- maybe not as healthy as drinking it black, sure, but it's far from the worst thing I could do to myself," he shrugged. "Unlike some other people I can think of," he hummed pointedly, hiding a smirk behind his mug.

Jackson: “It’s because I’m irresistible. You just can’t stay away.” He says with a wink, knowing full well most of the time Jackson was the one who was seeking out icarus. But last night it had been the other way around and it felt good, if Jackson was being honest with himself. Shovelling more eggs into his mouth he shrugs. “When it’s food you can afford, you eat it, y’know? Cheap processed food is better than no food.” He said almost matter-of-factly, figuring the other didn’t really seem like the type that had ever really had to worry about there being food on the table. Jackson knew that even he didn’t have it as bad as some, since his mom had worked two jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table, but there had been times that were harder than others. Jackson shoots Icarus a look, shaking his head. “Perhaps I should take my unsavoury self elsewhere then.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m perfectly healthy.” He says shooting back a grin, knowing that everything he did to himself was the opposite of healthy.

Icarus: "Right, right, that's what it is," he said with a playful roll of his eyes, though he did have to wonder what it was that had them crossing paths more often than not. Icarus hummed thoughtfully when Jackson brought up the point of the cost effectiveness of processed foods- he hadn't considered that himself, obviously, he'd never really had to think much about money. Even after he'd been banished and he didn't have access to the royal accounts, he was still far from poverty line and was able to live comfortably, first from the money he'd brought with him when he left and then from the money he was able to make thereafter. "Fair enough," he agreed with a shrug, not wanting to push the matter of family finances in case it was a sore spot for the other- it didn't seem like it though, but Icarus still would rather not turn their conversation to something that deep if they could avoid it. "Don't let the door hit your ass on the way out- it might still be sore," he retorted with a smirk, setting down his empty mug and crossing his arms over his bare chest. "And last I checked, whiskey for breakfast wasn't exactly healthy, but hey, whatever floats your boat, kiddo."

Jackson: "It is what it is, no use denying it." He says with a nonchalant shrug as if it were just fact. He never really felt ashamed of where he'd come from. He'd feel bad if he were ashamed, since his mother had always worked so hard to keep things as good as she could for them. Though he silently appreciated the fact that Icarus didn't push it too much more, and Jackson opted to continue eating his food. "You really are an asshole, aren't you?" He says with a full grin, rolling his eyes. Scraping a few last bits of food onto his fork he shrugs. "Kiddo? Really ?" He says with a raise of his brow, giving the other a narrow look.

Icarus: "I am indeed," he replied, flashing the man a wink before getting to his feet to take his plate and mug to the sink. "And yea, I mean, I'm what, more than eight hundred years older than you- what else would I call you?" he teased, casually enough, as he began to wash his dishes. It didn't occur to him until that moment that they'd never really talked about that- or rather, it never came up. In fairness, they weren't really having 'get to know you' talks when they were together. Setting his plate and his mug into the dryer, Icarus grabbed a clean glass before moving to the fridge, pulling out the half empty pitcher of iced tea Jackson had made himself the day before. "How old are you anyway, early twenties?"

Jackson: Jackson takes a moment to lean back on the chair when icarus gets up to clear the plates, stretching his legs a little. He certainly didn’t expect to be treated like such a guest, but Jackson would make the most of it while he could. Most things don’t really surprise Jackson, but the mention of the other’s age has his neck craning over to look at him with an expression of curiousness mixed with mild doubt. “You’re not fucking with me are you?” He says a little bemused and taken aback. He was slowly but surely getting used to the whole supernatural thing but there were still somethings that caught him off guard. “So I guess I should be calling you old man then, huh?” He says with a smirk before standing from his seat himself, trailing into the kitchen, his own plate and cup in hand. He lets out a small laugh at the other with the iced tea. “24.” He says, suddenly realizing just how damn young that felt compared to the other.

Icarus: "I've got no reason to lie to you about how old I am," he smirked, glancing over his shoulder at Jackson as he dried his hands on a dish towel and then took up his position leaning back against the counter, sipping on his tea. "I'll be 839 in August- so sorry I don't have a birth certificate to prove it to you," he joked, flashing the other man a wink. Icarus would've assumed that Jackson would be used to the idea that things weren't always what they seemed- especially when it came to the appearances and actual ages of the Supernaturals on the island. Apparently not quite yet. "I mean, you wouldn't be wrong- but lucky for the both of us, I won't be looking the part for centuries, more than that probably. My father looks to be in his forties, and yet he's lived for nearly 2000 years," he mused, watching Jackson at the sink. "Aw, you're practically a baby," he teased, "Makes sense- you sure do whine like one."

Jackson: "Suppose you don't." Jackson muses, taking a moment to wash his own dishes. He was attempting to play nonchalant with the fact that the other was over 800 years old, but to his naive human brain it was insane. "Jesus..." He says with a shake of his head, finishing with his dishes and looking at Icarus, almost as if he was trying to figure out how that could be possible. This place was crazy, and he was starting to realize just how small an insignificant he was in the grand scheme of it all. "Huh, crazy." He says, letting out a breath and another small shake of his head. "Oh fuck you." He says with a little glare. "I do not whine ." Though Icarus had been pretty damn close to pulling an actual whine from his lips last night. He chews on the inside of his lip for a moment. With there no longer being breakfast or the shower to distract them, it was just the two of them, and a silence lands for a moment that usually wouldn't bother him, but for some reason today it did. "Well, I best be going, y'know got lots of things on the schedule for today, never a dull moment for a slave." He says jokingly, though he knows he'll probably just go back to his cell and sleep for a few more hours. "Suppose I'll have to come back sometime and return these close." He says with a small suggestive smirk, an attempt to keep one foot in the door.

Icarus: Icarus could only chuckle under his breath at Jackson's reaction- it wasn't dramatic, no, but he was spending enough time with the other man that he was starting to pick up on the little things he did that betrayed how he was really feeling. He'd keep that to himself for now though, he didn't think Jackson would like that very much, him getting inside his head. The chuckle turns into a bark of laughter as Jackson cursed him, and Icarus couldn't help but reach out to grab the man by the front of his shirt and haul him in before dipping his head to kiss him roughly. "Sure you don't," he said against Jackson's lips before giving him a light shove backwards, a smirk on his lips. "Yea, I can imagine," he hums when Jackson starts to make his exit, setting his empty glass in the sink and walking with him towards the door. "You can keep the clothes," he said with a shrug, tucking his hands into his sweats, "But I'm sure I'll be seeing you regardless- I don't think you can keep yourself out of trouble for too long. Try not to, I don't know, get yourself beheaded or something? I definitely can't help you with that."

Jackson: Jackson was grinning when icarus pulls him forward once again, stumbling a little against the force, on hand coming up to splay on the other’s bare chest. He returns the kiss just as roughly, and there’s a internal urge to wrap his arms around the other and keep it going, but no. He stumbles back again from the shove, the ghost of a chuckle on his lips. Icarus really seemed to have a way of getting him going, and he knew if he didn’t make an exit now, it would be too late. “I don’t.” He says again, as if it’s fact, though he wonders if it’s only a matter of time that Icarus does actually make him whine, and he shakes his head a little at the thought. He shrugs with a tilt of his head, looking down at the clothes that were clearly too big but, hey, who was he to complain about free clothes, especially when his seemed to keep getting destroyed. “You underestimate me.” He says with mock seriousness before laughing. “But no, you’re probably right. I’ll try to keep my head connected to my neck, yeah? Can’t promise I won’t break anything again though, those guards are ruthless.” They likely would be less so if he knew how to keep his mouth shut, but that was besides the point. He walks with Icarus to the door, turning the handle. “Alright well, thanks for the place to crash, I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

Icarus: "Do I really?" he teased in response, leaning against the doorjamb after Jackson opened the door- in truth, he was slowly starting to get the impression that maybe there was more to the man than what met the eye. But whether he dug further into that observation, well, only time would tell. "That's alright, broken bones I can handle- decapitation? Less so," he joked, flashing the man a grin. Arms crossed over his chest, Icarus watched Jackson step out into the hall, their eyes meeting and holding for a moment in silence. "See you around, Jackson," he said with a smirk finally, and then he stepped back and closed the door. Yea, he'd definitely be seeing him around.

-end.

#( chat. ) || icarus elwood #( jackson&icarus. ) || my time is yours waste it carefully #( ooc. ) || these two are literally so ridiculous and i enjoy them so much

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