Kingsman Agent : Lancelot

            Jasper’s eyes can’t find a place to stick until Clayton’s meet them, and then it’s as though they’ll never leave. He can only speak after a considerable delay, the man’s words settling in his brain like the promises of a parent to child who knows no better. “My home is—it’s—” He blinks rapidly for a second as he chases his thought, wonderfully distracted by those captivating irises above his. “—I quit my job, since I saw you last. I’m at an inn near Charing Cross for the time being.” It’s lonely, he doesn’t say, because he has no idea how Clayton will feel about that sort of stay. It’s sudden and public, and he did tell the receptionist it would be only him.

“I’m sorry, have I…” It’s almost as though he’s just remembered he’s drunk, that this is real and everything that has happened actually happened. That happiness he can’t help but feel when looking at Clayton’s face is still there, but cold around the edges. It’s coming to an end, isn’t it? “I can’t help but feel I’ve done something very silly tonight, only I don’t know what it is. Will you take me home?”

“You did?”

Clayton didn’t peg Jasper to be the one to quit a job so easily, from what he understands Jasper is very confident and has that upper class attitude. And to quit is normally against that instinct. So it must not of been good what his job was. Clayton moves his hand from Jasper’s cheek to stroke the blonde hair. Giving a smile and nod, he doesn’t mind at all. 

“I don’t mind one bit taking you home.” 

Clayton assures the other and titls his head. 

“Try not to worry, I am having a lovely time, no apologize.”

Clayton leans and gives another gentle kiss to Jasper to try and ease his mind. Once outside in the real world, they will not be so close. Friends once more, at least here they were safe. 

            Jasper is on cloud nine—however, the thing about that is so often right when he realizes it is right when it stops. This is different. Clayton keeps them together just long enough for his mind to register what is happening and just what it means, even if it isn’t entirely certain it’s real, or at least will be when he comes-to. (It’s hard to accept the fact that one is kissing a modern Adonis on a good, sober day, and much more so when one’s face is already numb pressed against his and one’s consciousness is questioning itself.) His tongue chases the one pressing into it, not competitive, but slow and feathered; his lips are slick and at some point his teeth pull gently on Clayton’s lower. When his body is pulled tighter he lets out the quietest of whines against the other’s mouth.

All-in-all, he should be surprised that the heated exchange doesn’t leave him madly horny, but there are times alcohol tends to have that adverse effect. Dream-him smiles ever confidently at Clayton’s question, and he’s tempted to kiss his way across that jaw and right down under the collar of that suit. “Stay awhile?” he asks with brow raised and eyes wandering all over the man’s face in admiration. “Would you like to stay forever?”

Taking his other hand from his pocket finally he manages to wrap both arms around Jasper, eyes gazing into the others, searching and trying to figure out answers. 

“Mmm forever is a long time, but we can always see how things play out.” 

Jasper may find it not great that Clayton spends a lot of time away from home. Jasper may very well get bored with him, and bring into question about why new scars pop up after a leave of absence. But perhaps he is thinking far too ahead.