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Very rarely does a day pass in which John Jack Morrison has a moment to himself. Ever since his promotion to Strike Commander in recognition of his valor, morals in the face of certain death, saving people whom others would let die, compassion in the deepest and most sincere means; the speech prattles on and on in his skull, he finds little time to just enjoy the suite given to himself and Gabriel upon their promotions. It's nice to have space after those years spent on the front lines unsure if the bed they returned to would be empty. He doesn't dwell. Why should he? His boyfriend will be returning any minute and Jack's laid out a very special surprise.
La esposa has stuck around in his skull far longer than he cares to admit. Being a housewife isn't for him, he likes the weight of a rifle in his hands as a means of protection too much. But this? Morrison makes sure the apron is cinching his waist as dinner is cooked. Nothing special. If he's going to be honest: it's all take out set up to be a legitimate meal. The trash has been taken out and he'll be damned if he gets called out on chicken parm that clearly isn't his.
Who cares, the food isn't quite as good as the dessertJack prepared himself. Slowly. He chuckles, hinted with a rumble, as he thinks about his plans. He's waited for a while to enact his show and after Gabriel's mission went on longer than previously thought? Ample opportunity and excitement course through his veins. He can only hope his lover is as elated by what waits for him here. At least, he hopes, he isn't too mad about not being met at the tarmac.
Gabe's felt little other than tired these past weeks. Tired of the missions, the secrecy, being on all the time. All he can think of as he sits on the hard bench of the ship is Jack. Their bed, their room, just falling face first into Jack's chest and laying there. He always knows how to handle Gabe after tough missions, opting for silence instead of inquiries. This mission wasn't rough, but it wasn't easy. No casualties should be a success, but everything else went haywire. McCree's prattling on about something to Gabe, and Gabe's only half listening.
It's dark when they land, and Gabe squints at the tarmac as they unload. Jack's not there. Something pangs in his heart, tells him Jack's too busy to come see him. Gabe scowls at himself. Years and Jack's always been on the tarmac. He worries only slightly, figuring Jack fell asleep or something like that. McCree says something about hitting the mess and invites Gabe and he almost accepts--almost. The thought of coming home to a sleepy, snuggly Jack is a far more appealing thought.
He enters their quarters and is met by the immediate smell of food. His stomach rumbles loudly and Gabe is ten thousand times more grateful he didn't take up Jesse's offer. His bag is dropped by the door and he stoops to unlace and kick off his boots. Lights are on and the food smells fresh, all of which are good signs. Maybe Jack isn't asleep after all.
"Jack? You actually cooked without burnin' anything? I'm amazed." He calls with amusement as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, shoving the sleeves of his hoodie up his arms. He looks up and stops immediately in his tracks, eyes wide. Of all the things he'd expected to see upon coming home, Jack leaning against the counter wearing nothing but a grin and an apron is not one of them. Not that he's complaining!
"Holy shit," he breathes out, swallowing hard. "I've never been more hungry in my entire life." The grin spreads across his face and he simply looks, eyes roaming over Jack with an appreciative gaze. "I can't believe you remembered."
The door opens and shuts with heavy steps greeting curious ears. Jack vibrates through his skin, both unease and excitement courses through him. Is this too much? Not enough? Maybe he should have just bought a cake. Welcome home, Gabriel? No, this is better. Plus he's the damn dessert. However, he did wish he'd picked up a pie...
"Gabe," Jack grins, a bright smile that only widens with his lover's comment, "Not even in SEP? You were ravenous all the time." The deep timbre of his voice radiates through the chuckle that follows. Between the two of them Jack ate more but Gabriel never had a hand off of him so who truly was the greedy, needy one?
"Remembered? I'm pretty sure I'm the one who added the frilly part to it. Though they didn't have a pink apron so I had to sacrifice one of your red shirts for this. Surprising to find in your closet full of black but I digress." Jack quirks his hip but doesn't move. Not yet. He waits for the perfect opportunity in the form of a beeping sound as the oven begins to shut off and Morrison is turning to gather food from it. Pink mitts, at least, to haul the hot as hell dish out.
He teases with a bend but nothing too wild. Yet. He enjoys moments like these where they can be themselves. The media would have a field day of they saw anything remotely like this.
"Sit down, I have everything all planned."
"Never wore it anyway," is Gabe's half thought of response. He'll sacrifice a thousand red shirts if it means he gets to see Jack in nothing but an apron, bent over an oven for the rest of his life. He takes in everything and steps further into the room, letting a hand slide up along the back of Jack's thigh. "SEP didn't have anything as delicious as this, cariño." He mutters, hand giving Jack's ass a firm squeeze before he pulls back.
As much as he wants to touch and taste and take Jack right there on that counter he is actually hungry. Double rations rich in protein for his super soldier metabolism, but he spent half the time starving anyway. He peeks over Jack's shoulder to catch a look at the food. Ooh, chicken parm. What a treat. He wants to wrap his arms around Jack's waist and pull him close but he doesn't, fearful of the burn he might get from that dish.
"Everything all planned? How long you been plannin' this, gorgeous?" The grin stays on his face and he sits at their small card table set up, big enough for the two of them. The apron is so short it barely covers Jack and Gabe finds himself actually staring at the exposed parts of Jack's thighs. "I'm starvin'."
Dang, he's trying not to twitch under the hand that feels him up but, aw hell, Jack lives for it. Don't touch, told to Gabriel Reyes, means to touch with more than his eyes. Morrison is half tempted to shyly look away but he enjoys the praise that pours out of Gabe's mouth. It makes this worth it.
"Not very. Someone brought up aprons and I remember it. Planned it for about a week? Was all gussied up for your original arrival date but someone had to get held up." Jack tries to sound huffy but the worry inch itself into his tone. He tries to bury it in the sound of plates and food being served. He's not hungry, a lack of an appetite is worrying when it comes to one of them but his stomach rolls nervously
"Eat, I cheated earlier and ate one of them. Couldn't help it." Jack doesn't make a move to sit, his nervous energy causes him to move to the fridge to grab a beer to put in front of Gabe's dish. Water too. Anything to keep his hands busy and not trembling as he keeps reminding himself this is okay and entirely wanted. It's hard to say it isn't wanted when Gabe looks at him with eyes so dark he can barely see the pupil.
"Glad you're back. I missed you."
Gabe scrunches his nose at the mention of his delayed return, gladly popping open the beer and taking a swig. Alcohol doesn't affect them anymore, but Gabe drinks it for the taste, honestly. They were delayed because of his mistake; he miscalculated the expanse of the omnium, the blueprints too torn up to really give a good idea. The EMP got lost and so did they.
"Sorry, babe, duty calls." He smiles at Jack despite this and digs into his food. It's good--still holds the taste of food that's been rewarmed from a takeout joint but Gabe couldn't care less. Jack made it for him, and Jack got all dolled up for him. That's what matters. However, this nervous fidgeting by him is driving him insane. He sets down his fork and tugs on Jack's arm, pulling the man into his lap.
"Missed you too, amor. But something tells me you got a three course meal planned out here. Can't fill up too much, might spoil my appetite."
A rushed 'oof' escapes him before he can help the semi startled sound. Jack laughs at it as he wriggles himself into a comfortable position. There really isn't one considering the unwavering feeling of tight and full pressed just right against him. His breath stutters and his cheeks are red. Damn, he didn't want to let that cat out of the bag yet but, mmmh, if there isn't something so good about leaning against Gabe's chest and feeling complete.
"Yeah, I did," breathless, Jack turns his head to press a quick peck to a rough cheek. Gabriel needs to shave but Jack's 5 o'clock shadow isn't much better, "But you need to eat. Hate to have to pause this for you a stomach growl."
Jack knows how embarrassing it is to have his stomach yowl with need mid coitus. Looking but it was hilarious but, truly, mortifying when it had happened. Thankfully Gabriel was a good sport about it and didn't tease him too much for his calorie intake. Okay, maybe he did but they both learned the importance of eating when they really needed to.
Gabe could eat the food Jack made for him, but he's far more interested in bestowing kisses behind Jack’s ear and down along his neck. He should probably eat. If anything, he knows he'll be absolutely famished after whatever Jack has planned, and (hopefully) too fucked out to do anything about it. So he rests his chin on Jack's shoulder and eats, still holding the other soldier on his lap because he'll be damned if he doesn't get to keep that pretty sight in his lap.
He scarfs down the chicken, partially because he really is hungry, but mostly because he's so damn excited to get to whatever Jack's got planned. Blood's already rushing through his ears to his groin and, while he's not hard yet, his higher brain functions have definitely stopped. Food finished, he lets his hands roam along Jack's waist, up his chest, lips nipping and leaving little love marks along his shoulders.
"There, I finished. Can I have my dessert now? Been cravin' somethin' for days now."
Chewing noises are hell of a turn off but he has to make sure Gabriel is taken care of before proceeding with this housewife fantasy that he courted with when Jack was on the ending cusp of a teenager. It's turning out a bit differently but Morrison rolls with it. He feels good, angled so perfectly as he tries not the rock his hips where the pressure is nearly too much. Breath is hard to catch for a moment before he hears Gabriel announce that he finished partnered with little nips and marks that'll not last the night. Upsetting but the healing factor has saved the both of them too many times to truly complain.
"I wanted to get you a pie but I figured you wouldn't want it anyway." The edge of arousal makes itself known through his voice, "But whatever you want, babe. Just tell me."
Jack's voice holds this perfectly breathy quality to it and Gabe closes his eyes, humming as if deep in thought. There's only one thing he wants: Jack. His hands roam over the blonde's chest, tracing small circles around nipples that poke through the fabric of the apron.
"Look at you, rearin' and ready so soon. You want me to fuck you, baby? Haven't seen you this desperate in ages." One hand drops to stroke along the semi Jack's been sporting, his hips rolling up slowly. "What if I just teased you for hours? 'Till you're sobbing, begging for my cock in that sweet ass of yours."
The hand on Jack's cock slips around to Jack's ass, intent on teasing but his fingers are met with the wide, smooth bottom of a toy and Gabe's nearly just dies . He tugs the toy just barely, working it inside Jack in small little thrusts.
"Slut, couldn't even wait for me to get home before you started fucking yourself, huh?"
The touch of fingers is so close to where Morrison aches to have them but not close enough. The short, indignant noise is nearly choked out when Gabriel talks through in his damned low toned sex voice. An octave lower and so guttural that Jack feels every syllable in his bones. The voice partnered with a hand pressing against him is enough for Jack to release a shuddered breath. Shit. That's good. Not enough but all Morrison wants to do is rock himself against that hand.
"Gabriel--" the idea of being teased is painful with how long he's had this toy inside him, making every moment of waking a small heaven mixed with hell. The lost of contact makes him groan pathetically before a high sound drags out of his slowly working throat.
Jesus .
A hand flies back to grip the back of slightly grown out hair. Not enough to grab but the texture under his fingers is nice enough to attempt to ground him while Gabe plays with that damned toy.
"Learned from the last time on the couch. Don't like lube running down my legs when I don't know how long you'll be." The words are panted out. He’s got something to say but it's hard to make the words form, hard to keep a direct line of sight of who he wants when his mind starts to slow.
"Counter. It's where your dessert is."
Gabe grins against Jack's neck, leaving another love bite as he slowly works the toy. Any thoughts of teasing start to leave his mind, replaced with the thought of fucking Jack atop the counter. Hands abandon the toy for now, instead roaming along Jack's thighs, nails digging and biting. Gabe's almost sad they heal too fast, wishing he could see the marks his nails leave for days.
"Up." He pushes Jack gently off his lap as he stands, hands cupping and kneading the firm muscles of his ass. Gabe can't keep his hands off Jack, even as they walk back into the kitchen proper. He crowds Jack against the counter, pressing his body flush against the other's back.
"Dessert, baby? You shouldn't've. What is it? Show me."
Breath feels stifled with every press of the toy inside him. Jack groans, hips canting just so, hopefully getting a better angle that makes this torture a bit sweeter. The noise that leaves his throat when Gabriel stops is pathetic, choked as nails drag. Blue eyes open to half lid like the effort is nearly too much for him. Cheeks are dusted in red that reach both to his chest and ears.
Up . He knows that. Jack stands on legs almost to unsteady. He chuckles, groaning softly as Gabriel put his hands back on him. Damn him. Reyes makes it hard to think properly as he herds and crowds him to and against the counter. He wants to say something but clothed pressure against him is the sweetest feeling that curls within his lower abdomen.
Words. Words . He catches on words and sucks in a breath as he leans to the side, hand fumbling for that damned thing he left here. Fingers connect and accidentally hit a button on the device. A loud, obscene keen falls from his mouth as he fumbles to turn it off again. He can barely see straight as he grabs one of Gabe's hand and folds the device in it.
"For you. Want you to, ah, do this. If you, hah, want." Jack lips chapped lips, pupils blown wide. He's beyond excited as the apron rubs on him just enough to leave a wet spot.
Gabe barely registers the tiny remote shoved into his hand, focusing more on the filthy noise that comes from his partners lips. Well, he's never heard that before. A wicked grin crosses his features and a hand trails up Jack's back slowly to fist his hair and tug just gently.
"Know your word, baby?" He asks, breathless, leaning his weight against Jack's back. He waits to hear it before continuing, fingers itching to press the button. The hand in Jack's hair is tight, forcing him to bend over the counter, shoulders and chest flat against it.
Gabe drinks in the sight that is Jack, full of a toy that Gabe has complete control over. Excitement thrums in his nerves and he tugs Jack's hair again, gentler this time. "I'm gonna fuck you so good, baby."
Head tilted back ever so slightly gives Jack a visual angle that makes Gabriel sharp lines and dark eyes as his neck strains to see him. Mouth dry, Morrison nearly nods as if that's the perfect response only to have a hand keep him still. Molasses in his throat makes it hard to mutter out Johnson, but the watch word that started as a joke made perfect sense. Easy enough for Jack to say while spaced, but not an easy word to accidentally call out. He's only had to use the word once when too sensitive, looking for boundaries to their bodies.
The counter is cold against what exposed skin makes contact. He shivers, teeth sinking into his lower lip. Hands aren't sure what to do but palms are flat against the counter, too hot cheek flush against it as well.
"Waited for you. Was so excited, barely kept it together. Had a plan but, ah, much better plan right here."
Jack mutters their word, the one that even years later still makes Gabriel flare with jealousy, and grins. The remote has a button for on and a dial for intensity. He switches it on but keeps the dial low, barely able to even hear the dull buzz of the toy. Just that sends shivers down his spine. He doesn't let go of Jack's hair but loosens his grip, pressing his face slightly into the counter.
"Mmh, such a greedy little slut. Couldn't wait for my cock so you had to find something else. S'it as good? Think it could make you cum like I do?" Filth falls from his mouth and he presses a palm against the flat base of the toy, angling it slightly to press against Jack's prostate. The dial goes up just a smidge.
"Tell me your plan. What filth did you think of for me? You always know just how to make me happy, baby." The grin is still plastered on his face and he watches, takes in how Jack trembles and gasps, the only points of contact with Gabe the fist in his hair and the hand on the toy. "Hate to spoil your plan by being so greedy."
The button goes on and Jack's knees nearly fail him. Instinct locks the joints before much else could happen but little gasps become his breath. It takes far more to get him light headed than it used to be. He almost imagines himself feeling airy, but it's quite hard (almost literally) to not be grounded in the moment with Gabe's words rumbled into his ear in such a way it makes him try to push his own advanced hearing into feeling every vibration that echoed through his throat. It's too hot with the added pressure of the toy being angled. A soft cry escapes his mouth, eyes squeezed such from the on slot of sensation.
"Wanted..." A breath is such in as he tries to claw his thoughts together. Everything felt like mush beyond what Gabriel asked of him, wanted of him, "Domestic. Wanted to be the wife for a day. Do all the stereotypical 1940’s, ah, right there, Gabriel, please ." Jack fumbles with his words as they slur together, pressure nearly too much and yet it's not enough. He drowns in sensation before coming up for air.
"Didn't think about the counter. Rather this plan. Wanted to do shamelessly missionary. Two point five kids and a white picket fence vanilla." It's funny and he chokes on his laughter while edged with too good vibrations that course through his entire system. Jack knows his thighs are shaking and his nails are digging into the counter that Gabriel pushes his head against, "Just wanted you. Couldn't stop think about you. Got worried. Wanted you okay and here."
Jack's words spill over in a rush and Gabe chuckles, deep in his chest. The dial goes up as a reward and he moves the toy slowly. Maybe in another lifetime they could've had that—Gabe actually finds himself wanting it. It would have been nice to pretend for a bit, but Jack coming undone with a vibrating plug up his ass his is far better than any fantasy they could act out.
"Aw, that's cute." Gabe hums, hand leaving the toy to knead at one of Jack's cheeks. "You look fuckin' gorgeous in that apron, babe. Wear it more for me." It's a not so subtle command and he tugs on Jack's hair, pulling him upright. A bite is left high on his neck, a guttural growl deep in Gabe's throat. Fuck, he's so turned on.
"On your knees, slutty little housewife. Suck my cock, you're so good at it." He's pulling Jack's hair slightly, more pressuring him to his knees than actually throwing him. The dial turns down just a little bit; Jack will get it turned back up when he's good.
The vibrations get strong and Morrison sobs for it, because of it? A thought can barely be caught as his hips stutter hard into the drawers of the counter. He hisses out in minute pain, but nothing worth mentioning. He can't even remember it the next second as he nearly bangs his hips back into the hardwood. The hand on his ass is nothing, barely felt, but the words are so strong in his ears and he nods the best he can. He'll do it more often if it makes Gabriel happy.
A less than graceful yowl escapes his throat as Jack is pulled up by his hair. Nails drag across counter top as teeth sink and mark with a bruise that'll last, hopefully, until the end of the day. He wants to be able to see it, touch it, press into it and remember this moment beyond just want he remembers. Reminders, that's what he craves.
The command is coaxed and Morrison falls to his knees faster than thought physically possible. The hand pushes him but, who cares, he wants this anyway. Always does. Except it's hard to think when there's too good, too full, vibrating pressure against his prostate. The dial goes low enough to be barely noticeable and Jack whines with the loss. The break, however, gives him time to think and fumbles the front latching of Gabriel's pants to fish him out without lowering very much of that damned cloth that hides every inch of thigh he likes to play with.
No preamble tonight, Jack licks a stripe from base to tip before focusing on the head. Push back the foreskin to tease glands with his tongue. The taste isn't terrible but he's learned to love it. The praise that comes after makes every once of current discomfort worth it. Especially with how hard it is to kneel with something so unforgiving in your ass.
Gabe will never get over the sight of Jack falling to his knees with an eager expression. It's burned into his memory, and he loves seeing it, reliving it. His breath comes out stuttering once Jack's mouth is on him, and the hand that runs through his hair this time is gentler.
"Good slut, always so eager to get to your knees for me. Fuck, you suck cock so good. No touching, just your mouth. Yeaaah, just like that." His hips thrust shallowly, free hand moving to brace himself against the counter. All these years and Jack still knows exactly how to make his knees buckle.
The dial goes up a little bit more, and Gabe swears he can almost feel it through Jack's body and it's one of the hottest things he's ever felt. His head lolls back slightly, hips jabbing more than thrusting.
"Ooh fuck, yeah baby. Y'like my cock in your mouth? Like chokin' on my dick? Mmh, yeah just like that."
The words make him burn so good. He's never minded the mild humiliation. In fact, he enjoys it more than he cares to admit. He is a slut, he likes being a slut. Morrison is completely and one hundred percent okay with the words that are offered to him. He'd grin but the dial goes up and he has to pop off Gabriel's erection go breath and moan, unashamed. He's never been made to feel guilty here, to feel shame for how he feels about what he wants. This is his safe area, he needn't worry about his volume. At worst he's slightly embarrassed because he stopped focusing on Gabe in favor of himself. That is righted immediately.
Jack hasn't had a gag reflux in ages, the jabbing motions are nothing as he opens his mouth wider in offering. He can't touch Gabe. He can't work fingers around his sac and slide one behind for added stimulation. He's stuck between a rock hard erection and a rock hard plug that vibrates just enough to have him moaning around the length in his mouth.
Hands brace themselves on thighs, grabbing onto whatever loose cloth he can touch. With every jab Jack meets him to push him further down his throat. Swallowing. Needing. Wanting. Moaning. He can't keep up with a single thought in his head beyond what Gabe wants of him and what he's willing to do for him. Everything.
Christ, Jack is so eager and willing and so fucking good . Gabe wonders how he was blessed with this man with gold hair and pretty eyes that knows all his little spots. They're both eager to please each other and it's so good. Both of Gabe's hands go into Jack's hair to pull him close, nose flush against his pelvic bone. He holds him there with a groan until Jack's chest heaves for lack of air and he lets go, erection falling heavy out of Jack's mouth.
"Up," he pants, voice broken and full of lust. He turns down the vibrator and crowds Jack against the counter again, lifting him up to sit on it by his waist. "You've been so good, baby, doin' all this for me. You listen to directions so well. You did all this shit for me, and now all I need you to do is lie back. Can you do that for me?"
His voice is gentle and he leaves soft kisses along Jack's jaw and neck, his hands sliding along the apron and up to thumb at his nipples. He can almost feel Jack's skin thrumming with pleasure and the vibrator, his own taking on a similar feeling. He wants to fuck Jack, needs to fuck Jack, needs to fill all his senses and his mind with just Jack .
Panic should well in his chest but all that appears is a flutter of discomfort. Jack doesn't appreciate no warning but he was ready for something of the like, having given non-verbal permission. That doesn't mean his eyes don't water and his hips don't jerk while fingers nearly tear pants still clutching to thick thighs. He can't breathe, it's suffocation at base level when he's pulled off and his mouth feels so empty. Morrison has half a mind to complain about it but up and the vibrator being turned down causes his brain to snap to attention.
Knees straighten and pop back into their joints as Gabriel assists in picking him up. Jack feels unsteady when his ass makes contact to now cool counter and then lifts to sit on it. There's a question and it takes a second for the words to fall from his lips, "Yes," he slurs, pleasure drunk and spaced. The counter isn't quite big enough but Morrison manages to move stuff around to give his head some space to not be crowded by a toaster. It's distracting to have roughened fingers on his nipples all the while, little bites he’ll preserve in his memory from the silver toaster that reflects them in the weirdest of ways.
"Okay, 'Kay."
"Good boy," Gabriel grins at Jack, leaning in to leave a gentle kiss against his lips. Rough is their usual baseline--quick, dirty, one or both of them covered in bruises and blood. It's invigorating, especially after the high of a mission. Gabe wants to toe the line, but every once in awhile, the light catches Jack's pleasure filled face so perfectly, he can only think of the ocean of emotions he holds for this man. That's what makes him leave gentle kisses down Jack's abdomen, over his nipples through the cloth of the apron, along the insides of his thighs. For all the rushing they'd done before, Gabe always takes his time to tease Jack.
The vibrator is turned up a notch once more and Gabe kisses the underside of Jack's cock. It's gentle, barely there, but his erection twitches at Gabe lets out a shaky moan. A few more teasing kisses and he's swallowing down Jack, head bobbing as he messes with the plug again, twisting and pressing it against Jack's sweet spot. Gabe is quick and sloppy with his blowjob, drooling on the head of Jack's cock to add more spit before taking him in again. He goes as far as he can and chokes just slightly before pulling back, chest heaving.
"Want me to fuck you? Fuck you right here on this counter? Make a huge fucking mess and make you clean it up on your hands and knees. Is that what you want, slut? Come on, beg for it." The words fall from Gabe's mouth as he strokes Jack's cock slowly, one hand coming up to twist a nipple roughly. He turns the dial all the way up, watching Jack's face contort before he turns it off completely. "You've got the best ideas, baby." He adds, dropping to land a kiss on Jack's cheek. "Y'bring the lube out here, gorgeous? Know you did some prep work, but it doesn't hurt."
Good boy . Jack shakes as the words caress his skin, so lovingly and cherished. Kisses pressed into skin are so different than their quick, roughened escapades that it's startling how much this breaks him more than being slammed into a wall with his face being scratched by a textured wall as they fumble with lube. This is what Jack cherishes the most, if he's honest. He likes-- loves-- the quick and dirty but this is Gabe at his best and favorite. He's never gotten used to being wanted and so wholly needed by Morrison can settle for this even if the lines of his cracking foundation show.
Mouth. That damned mouth is everywhere and Jack can't catch his breath. His skull feels like stratic as a hand reaches above him to claw the wall. Can't go for his hair, not without permission. It burns but he feels so out of his body it's hard to pinpoint exactly where he lays until the vibrator presses against his prostate and the sobbed out, half yell escapes his spasming throat. Sounds ride every breath. He's close. So close.
"Yes, yes, yes." Morrison prays, chants, a litany of exclamation of how much he wants and needs just that. His needs this so badly he burns, "Please, Gabe, please." The sound that's choked out of his throat at the rough treatment is a usual one but half cut off as he chokes. Then nothing. The toy stops and Jack nearly sobs out a why. Of course, logically, Gabriel needs it out of him but, still, the blond struggles with what he wants right now.
"Side drawer."
Jack chanting his pleas will never not get Gabriel going. He grins, almost sadistically, and watches Jack's chest heave with pleasure. Another kiss is left on Jack's cheek and Gabe leaves him momentarily to fumble for the bottle. He returns and pushes Jack's legs towards his chest, letting out a loud sigh at the sight before him. He'll never get over how beautiful Jack looks like this, needy and begging. Slowly, tortuously, the plug is pulled out of Jack. Gabriel sighs at the glisten of it, lube that Jack had left in his preparation.
"You're such a fucking slut, babe." He grins, running the pad of his thumb over Jack's abused rim. He should be stretched enough that it's an easy slide for Gabe, but Gabe's always loved to tease his lover. Two fingers slip inside, crooking up just right as he thrusts them lazily. "Been thinkin' about my cock all day, haven't you? All fucking week? You touch yourself while I was gone, Morrison? Finger yourself to the thought of me fucking you?"
Fingers are slowly replaced with the lubed head of his cock and Gabe rubs himself slowly against Jack's hole. He slips in slowly, a low groan bubbling in his chest before he pulls out completely. Tease, tempt, make Jack beg for it--that's his favorite thing to do. He repeats this, the motion of slipping in just the head of his cock and pulling it out. He won't last long doing this; the need to drive himself home is too great but the picture Jack paints is even better than the pleasure coursing up his spine.
The heels of his feet push to get leverage as Gabriel leaves him cold and wanting on the table. Cheeks glisten with sweat and the too good feeling of tears smeared on cheeks. He rubs his face for the tiny bit of relief it offers. Sensation is too much, too sharp. He aches with every breath and every tremble of his own lungs. Too small in his skin, too large in his skin; it all fluxes.
But he feels empty now with the plug slowly being pulled from him. Morrison clenches his eyes shut and tries not to clamp down on the plug to keep it in. That doesn't stop the whimper of loss that falls so beautifully from bruised lips. The sound of the embarrassed him but he cares little when he opens his eyes to meet Gabe's eyes. Or, rather, look at him when he's preoccupied by tugging at his loosened self. He can't help but feel exposed regardless of how much they do this. It's intimate. Jack wants to reach out but decides against it when fingers, two, press in and eyes nearly roll back into his skull.
"Yeah, didn't touch myself. Mmm, waited. Waited ‘til I knew you were coming home." It's not as good anymore without Gabe whispering through a call or actually breathing in his ear. He hates that weakness but he just doesn't know how to get off without him anymore. Doesn't know why he'd bother. He tries not to be too sappy but this is it for him. This is the man he loves that presses into him and teases him the way he likes it.
Gabe's lubed head stretches and pops with an obscene noise. Jack loses himself to the push pull pleasure that isn't enough. Words fumble out, half of them he's not sure of what they were even trying to be but he begs, needy in tone. He needs more. Needs Gabe. Please Gabe. Gabriel. Gabriel. His name is a prayer on his lips as hands slide to grab at the meat of his lover's shoulders to pull him down to meet him. The bend is awkward but he needs his mouth on his. Right now. Immediately. He's so close.
Jack's begging is music to his ears. The world narrows down to that mouth against his and the tightness of Jack's body as he slides in, pushing all the way until he's buried balls deep in his lover. He pauses for a moment, gasping down air like he's a drowning man. And he supposes he is--drowning in Jack, in their love, in the sentimentality that comes even as his mind is filled with ways they can sin until the sun comes up. Jack's lips are captured in a rough kiss before he pulls back, hands on the backs of Morrison's thighs.
"Oh baby, you know I'll always come home to you," Gabe pants, giving a small, experimental thrust before actually setting the tempo. It's rough, Jack bouncing every time their hips meet. Gabe's nails dig into the meat of Jack's thighs as he thrusts, the only noises falling from his lips now a series of grunts and growls. Jack always does this to him, brings out the primal side. The sounds their bodies make when they meet only driving him to thrust harder, faster. He keeps his eyes on Jack's face while they fuck, remembering every expression, every twitch of his face.
"Look at you, so fuckin' gorgeous like this. You love my cock, don't you? It's your fucking," a loud groan leaves him and he adjusts, lets Jack's legs go so he can get better leverage on the counter. "Fucking bread and butter, ain't it, Morrison? You love this shit, love when I fuck you rough. C'mon, say it. Say you love it."
How Gabriel expects him to talk while being fucked so thoroughly he'll never know. Words that just sound like hiccups escape his throat, he tries to mimic the sounds his lover wants but it's so hard to keep a thought. He does. He loves it. He wants it. He's so happy for it. Gabriel has to give him the barest look and Jack's on his knees and ready. It's so utterly pathetic but he can't help it when Gabriel looks at him like the sun and star when he's on his back, lap, and any position favored.
A hand smacks Reyes' shoulder as he chokes out that he wants to be touched. He's so close. He needs it. Needs him. Right now. Immediately.
It's not the words he wants to hear but it'll do--the insistent smack to his shoulder speaks more than words really could at this point. His hands go to Jack's hips, pulling him closer and slightly off the counter so Gabe can angle his hips just right. It'll hurt for a bit but right now he finds he doesn't care. An arm wraps around Jack's waist to hold him as his hand wraps around his poor lover's neglected erection. He pumps it quick, in time with his thrusts.
Jack wasn't kidding when he said he was close. Gabe's almost surprised by his orgasm, the way Jack tightens around him, arches his back and lets out a strangled cry. Gabe groans for the feel of it, shoving his soiled hand in Jack's face with a mutter of 'clean it up, slut'. His eyes shut as he chases his own orgasm, pulling out when it crests to paint that pretty little apron with his cum. If it gets on the counter, he doesn't care; that's what Lysol is for.
His knees almost give out and he leans against the counter, laying his chest against Jack's cum-covered one. He doesn't really mind, until it starts to dry and he grimaces.
"C'mon, cariño, let's get you outta this thing." He speaks gently, keeping his hands on Jack the whole time he helps the soldier strip. Jack hasn't come back from subspace yet--Gabe can tell by the far off look in his eyes. "Hey, babe, come back to me. Want some water?" He asks, peppering kisses against his lover's somewhat scruffy chin. Arms wrap around his waist to pull him off the counter, Gabriel supporting Jack's dead weight. "Oof, come on chico."
Floating is the easiest way to describe it. Blood rushing as his body relaxes from the sheer force of his orgasm. It never lasts long enough but the time spent putting himself together again makes up for it. Gabe gives an order, Jack follows. He only, vaguely, understands what it is when the aftertaste sits on the back of his tongue. It's not entirely pleasant but it's not the worst flavor that's ever been in his mouth. Tongue heavy, Morrison takes to breathing. It's easy, simple. Gabriel announces touch and Jack still can't grasp on what's being said except he agrees it's necessary.
"Yeah," Water. Water's good. He always asks for water immediately after regardless of position or activity. Blue eyes blink, trying to focus on body warmed counter top and the chill of kitchen flooring. Grounding. His knees are weak but easily locked to keep him from falling over as he leans against the broadness of Gabriel's chest, "Damned crick." Jack muttered as a hand moves to his lower back where he meets Gabe's own. It's tight and not in a pleasant way. He'll need to pop it before they settle down for bed.
Jack looks at his partner for a moment that drags on too long. The scars aren't new but they define him as a person. Dark eyes, slightly crinkled at the corners. He can feel the dopey smile on his face as he looks at Gabriel in a way he really hasn't in awhile, "I love you." He speaks in the surest voice he's had since the night began. Biased? Surely. But he loves this man with every fiber of his being. He wants it now. He wants to say it, "I love you, Gabriel Reyes." He repeats, feeling almost too giddy about it, "Welcome home, glad to have you back. Mmm."
Gabe's hands immediately go to the small of Jack's back, thumbs pressing into the muscle. It won't help a crick, but it'll relieve some of the pain. He's getting ready to ask Jack a series of grounding questions but when he looks up he sees that big, stupid grin that he loves so much. It's like someone bottled the sun and the stars and stuck it right on Jack Morrison's face. He can't help but mirror the smile, a little more demure but still dopey all the same, and lean in to kiss the corner of Jack's mouth.
"Love you, too, Boy Scout. Glad to be back. Missed your homecookin' and an actual bed." He laughs, and procures that glass of water Jack needed. He waits for his lover to drink the whole thing, arm still wrapped securely around his waist, before trying to venture into the bedroom. Their legs are both shaky, and whether it's from orgasm or run of the mill exhaustion, Gabriel's not sure. He sets Jack down on the bed, gently, leaving a kiss against his forehead.
"Lay down, amor. I'm going to get undressed and I'll be right back, okay?" He waits for a coherent response before quickly stepping out to undress and wash his hands. Jack's clean up job was okay, but his hands still felt nasty. He comes back into the room with a soft announcement and turns off the light, slowly climbing into the bed with this man who's completely stolen his heart. An arm drapes over the blonde's waist to pull him in close, beard rubbing against his shoulder.
"Missed you." It's muttered softly against Jack's shoulder. He hates sappy emotions and tearful reunions but he wants to tell Jack, has to tell Jack how much he missed him. How scared he was when he was afraid he wouldn't come home. Gabriel hopes his embrace conveys most or all of this, face nestled into Jack's neck with a sigh.
The bed feels incredible when Morrison doesn't reside in it alone. Though Gabriel isn't with him yet the idea he'll be joining him warms his gut in the softest of ways. Blue eyes slipped shut as Jack's body sags; he might not have been bone deep exhausted before but now he most definitely is if only for the chance to sleep with his partner. God, he missed having someone in his bed in the most platonic of ways.
"Beard needs a trim." Jack comments after Gabriel has settled and pulled him close. He's torn between turning over or staying like he is, slotted so perfectly against him. The need to sleep ultimately makes the choice for him as muscle by muscle he starts to let himself go.
"Owe me a back rub," The words are grumbled, mostly pushed into the pillow; the thought of Gabriel's hands all over his back is a good one, a closely kept one, "Love you." He murmurs, again. Sleep tugging him down as Jack finally joined his hand to Gabriel's own.
They've been together for too many years to know they won't wake up the same way they fell asleep in but it's easy enough to turn over and resume.