“Jennings, now, please,” Elliot groaned.
Jackson wasn’t going to argue. He pushed his finger in slowly as he moved his body on top of Elliot’s, not once breaking eye contact.
“More,” Elliot moaned.
Jackson smiled and kissed him as he brought a second finger to join the first, slowly stretching him open.
“Jennings, please, I need you.”
“Don’t want to hurt you. Just a little more.” He kissed the tip of Elliot’s nose as he crooked his two fingers forward, making Elliot’s breath stutter and his cock pulse against Jackson’s leg.
Jackson twined a hand around both of their lengths, stroking them together as he added a third finger, making sure Elliot was ready for him.
“Blood fucking hell, Jackson, I need it. Please.”
Jackson released Elliot and fumbled with the condom and lube. For all the control he was trying to display, he was just as desperate as Elliot sounded. Elliot clambered on top of him, placing a single kiss on Jackson’s chest before he lined himself up and lowered down achingly slowly over Jackson’s cock. He threw his head back as he controlled his descent. It was so good Jackson thought he might die, transcending anything he'd ever felt before. This was perfect. They were perfect.
Once Jackson was fully sheathed inside him, Elliot shot him a wicked grin before he dragged himself up his length, then down again. Pleasure coursed through his body as his boyfriend held him down, squeezing every ounce of pleasure he could. Moans bounced off the walls as Elliot rode him, picking up the pace, and Jackson tried to meet him thrust for thrust. The entire world had narrowed to the two of them here, in this bed.
Elliot leaned down, lowering his torso so he could kiss Jackson. It was a sloppy, filthy kiss, the two of them moaning into each other's mouths as Jackson tried in vain to maintain their rhythm while holding Elliot tight against him.
“Good boy,” Jackson murmured. “Taking me so well, Princess.”
Elliot’s eyes went impossibly dark as he stuttered out a moan. “Want to be so good for you,” he whimpered.
“You are,” Jackson replied. “You always are.”
Jackson thrust harder, reduced to his basest instincts. Elliot was gripping his arms, sweat beading on his brow, eyes closed and lips quivering as he kept his balance.
“Fuck, Jackson, can I?” Elliot wedged a hand between them, gripping his leaking cock in a vain attempt to stave off his impending orgasm.
Jackson grinned into his neck. “Yeah. God, yes. Come for me.”
All he’d seemed to need was that simple phrase. Elliot tumbled over the edge with a single tug. His cum coated Jackson’s stomach as he tightened around him. Jackson moved erratically, stars bursting behind his eyelids as he followed Elliot over.
Elliot gripped Jackson’s thighs, holding himself steady, and let out a long sigh as Jackson slid out of him, then he let himself collapse, putting all of his weight on Jackson like he was anchoring them together.
Jackson placed a soft kiss on Elliot’s shoulder. Then his jaw. Then his temple. “Let me go get you something to clean up with, Princess.”
Elliot nestled himself further into Jackson. “In a minute,” he said. “Let’s stay like this for a minute.”
Jackson sighed and wrapped his arms around Elliot’s torso. “Ok. Whatever you want.”
“Ugh, no, all sticky.” Elliot groaned, rolling off of Jackson. “I changed my mind, you may fetch a cloth.”
“Of course, your highness.” Jackson laughed as he got up slowly and went to locate a washcloth in Elliot’s en-suite.
Jackson woke early. A sliver of sunlight was streaming through the window, casting the room in a soft, sleepy glow. Elliot was still asleep, sprawled across most of the bed, his legs intertwined with Jackson’s and his arm thrown across his chest. Jackson very much wanted to stay snuggled in bed all morning, but his bladder was demanding he get up. He carefully extricated himself from underneath Elliot, trying not to disturb his sleep.
He studied his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t look any different, but it felt like something had shifted deep inside him. Now that he had Elliot again, he wasn’t going to let him pull away. He’d do anything he could to keep him in his life, even if Ell was never ready to be out, even if it meant he had to keep this secret forever.
Once he’d taken care of things, he made his way to the kitchen for his body’s second most desperate need.
Coffee.
Jackson busied himself making coffee for himself and Elliot. He frothed the milk and dusted the top with cocoa powder he found in a cupboard. He realised with a start that he knew exactly how Elliot liked his coffee—extra frothy with chocolate on top. He smiled to himself as he took the coffees back up the stairs, navigating the ladder carefully as he balanced the mugs in one hand.
Elliot was sitting up in bed when he got to the top, looking deliciously rumpled, with a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose as he stared forlornly at his phone. Jackson nearly dropped the coffee at the sight of him. He looked so sad but so touchable, nothing like the cool demeanour he usually projected.
