THIS EMPIRE BELONGS TO ME.

@dicksbigger —

can you come from just this ? // <Sucrose>

Ares hadn't anticipated that his body would remain so changed after pregnancy. He assumed ( ignorantly, given his extensive research ) that much would return to normal when he and the baby were separate individuals. Yet, his empty belly remained soft ; his skin was delicate to touch and sensitive ; and his roundness of his breasts had only seemed to have increased since she arrived. Ares had been forced to order yet another size up in nursing bras in the past few days.

The breast under Jack's hand would have once fit neatly into his hand. Now, it swelled out beneath his palm, hard and full of the excess that Artemis hadn't found room for. Ares whimpered at the feeling of Jack's thumb working with the nipple of the other. He felt strangely vulnerable like this, left in just his opened shirt and the nice pair of panties Jack had got to help him feel pretty after the baby. That is what all of Ares' parent - to - be books advised as a gift — granted, he did look nice in the dark blue material.

Milk squirted onto the back of Jack's hand, and Ares gasped. It was different when Jack manipulated his breasts ; pink appeared beneath Ares' beard. He squirmed beneath the other man, unable to stop the helplessness that flooded his face. Ares was still not accustomed to the lack of control that came with their more intimate encounters — but he trusted Jack and Jack's intentions enough to surrender anyway. It was, perhaps, a direct defiance of his original purpose, as well. A blatant display of human - ness.

Can you come from just this? Jack asked, lips hovering near the shell of Ares' ear.

Ares' hand curved over Jack's shoulder. He pressed his thighs together beneath him, jaw working until he found his voice again. "Almost," he breathed, as if this were some great goal that Jack desired a progress report on. "Only — only my breasts?" Ares felt Jack's nails bite the edge of his darkened areola on the left, and he closed his eyes against the rush of pleasure that came with it.

He liked when Ares looked dirty, especially considering his cool countenance otherwise. He liked the flush on his face, and he especially liked that the only reason he was leaking so much was because Jack had bred him. That it was Jack who made his body like this with whole intention, soft and leaking.

His hand turned. Ares' milk smeared against his palm as he smothered his breast, and then spilled thicker when he squeezed, drooling down the lines of his hand and between his wristbone. Jack's cock twitched with interest.

"Only your breasts."

While his right hand kneaded Ares' flesh, his left was more delicate, tracing circles over his lover's dark areola with a thumb. He swiped over his nipple here and there, enjoying the hardness of it, then went back to drawing circles to prepare for the dip of his head.

"Try closing your eyes, sweetheart," he purred, tongue flicking over the swollen bud and getting a taste of Ares' bounty. His nail dug in after, sharp in contrast to the softness of his tongue, then was replaced by the pad of his thumb pressing his nipple inward before rubbing it.

@dicksbigger

"You don't have to say anything," he said, his touch drifting to rest on Jason's shoulder. Though his tone was gentle, his eyes were sharp, catching the part of Jason's lips and the curves of his lashes.

"I know, I know," she finally said, wrinkling her nose at him. "C'mon, Dad, I wanted your boy perspective on other boys ... not your Dad perspective. Of course your advice is to follow my heart, and, like — that's good, but that's also your job."

Still, the smack with her open palm to his leg was fond. Her lips twisted up into a smile. It was slanted to one side and showed too many of her teeth ; Artemis had obviously learned it from her father.

"I guess I'm back to alone, and miserable, with the cats. Except ... if I think about it, I won't be." Artemis picked up her head and leaned forward, mouth reflecting the mischievous look in her eye. "The alone bit, yeah — but I'm gonna be running the club, right ? so that'll mean I won't be that miserable or have time for cats. Silver Moon takes a lotta love, and, like ... maybe it'll be good I won't have someone else. I can give it everything it needs, huh ?"

What attempt at a "sorry" and its accompanying course correction was halted in the wake of his eldest's scheming. By the time Jack caught himself, Artemis had already brought up her inheritance, and if nothing else the girl's one track mind had to be admired.

"Kid, the club came with the name," he said, poking Artemis' cheek where her dimple showed, "so that kills your closing statement.

"Nice try."

It wasn't an outright rejection, though, not when Artemis had been dreaming of owning the place since she was little. In his heart of hearts he'd already agreed, but what kind of father would he be if he just gave it to her? If she thought she could get by in life just by being a Kearney?

Besides, the club came with its own hidden networks of information and underground transport, and that was something only grown-ups could know.

"I already told you what you gotta do to earn it, right?" Arm around Artemis' shoulders, Jack squeezed her arm. "You're gonna finish college, work for me a couple years to figure out the ropes, and if you still want the club by then..."

Jack trailed off purposefully, leaving an opening for Artemis to say it'll be mine.

reilly feels useless, sat in jack's lap and twitching and gasping as those hands explore. all this restless energy while his baby brother guides him, sweet as ever. jack has always been the braver of them both, even if he doesn't know it. it's one thing to fake it long enough to teach it, but another to live it.

jack is half naked, with reilly's hand buried in his hair, and without thinking, he sighs, "you're so handsome..." the universe did so good with him. hot is really the word that feels more honest, but reilly's not quite there yet. what a shame that he hadn't noticed it sooner. the gruff of his voice, the warmth of his smile, how sure and strong his hands are. his skin prickles in a wave of euphoria, hair standing on end.

reilly remembers how to breathe, even deep down into his stomach, and he caresses up jack's arm. they've followed each other into the unknown before, they can do it again. it's unfamiliar to surrender himself over to being thoughtless, but he wants to. and any reservations leftover are swept under the rug when there's a hand at his throat.

his whine is barely recognizable as an "mhm," as he nods. jack touches him like every inch is a miracle, every bit of him has something to offer and jack is going to find it. the thought would disgust him if it were anyone else. with his brother, his half-lidded, heated gaze shows little but fascination and adoration.

his cock is heavy in his boxers. of course, he'll give his brother any toy he wants, even himself. after all, jack has always been so bright and so loving and so very his. there's never been a day of jack's life that he hasn't been reilly's brother.

laughing gently against his mouth, he wriggles in jack's lap to push his boxers half way down his thighs.

"y'don't have t'ask. 'less you just wanna hear me say it."

the soft part of reilly is now jack's to claim. each curve of fat, the wisps of hair across his body, the ink immortalized, the scars, and the flush of lust is his to do with as he pleases. church bells chime in the distance, mingling with the music that bears as their only witness.

"play with me however you want," it's encouragement as much as a request. the same tone he's always used when jack lingered in the doorway of his life. another kiss with a dip of tongue, this one slow and deep while he leans into the hand on his neck. reilly's here to stay. his fingers curl lightly in jack's hair and the other hand rests with a warm open palm on his chest.

But Reilly would give him anything and Jack lights up because of it, even if now his cock throbs, too, with the silent permission of his big brother's nudity.

The low moan he pushes into Reilly's mouth as they kiss is proud. The slide of his hand around Reilly's waist and down his navel is reverent. Jack sucks on his brother's tongue and drags his thumb up the underside of his cock and sighs, delighted, when he feels Reilly come close to him. And as the kiss ends he leans in after him, teeth pressing into Reilly's lip with enough bite to leave indentations when they scrape away.

Never leave me again, he could say. Stay here forever.

"I promise I'll fuck you whenever you crave a fix," he says, laughing as he curls his fingers around Reilly's erection. "How's that sound, baby?"

Eyes still on Reilly's, Jack's head dips enough for him to spit on his dick. Shiny and wet, the moisture hits the head of him and curves over the slit. Jack wastes no time drawing his hand up to smear his palm with wetness, then pulls back down to admire the intimate feel of Reilly's arousal in his hold.

The warmth of his brother's sex is delicious, and for the first time in his life Jack can't help but think the cock he holds is gorgeous. For a moment he lets his gaze drop, looking at the flush in Reilly's erection and the colour that paints his stomach, and it kills him how fucking hot it is. It kills him, too, seeing the head of Reilly's dick push through the ring of his hand, over and over as he works him in long, even strokes. The sound of Reilly's breathing, the feel of Reilly moving on his lap, the throb against his palm and the fucking scent of him buried beneath the layers of Jack he's absorbed from sleeping in his bed-- it's all so good he can't help but coo praise for it.

"That's it, Sandy, fuck my hand," he murmurs, thumb stroking the corner of Reilly's jaw as he jerks him off. Jack feels his brother's pulse flutter against his palm so much clearer when he squeezes, firm and gentle all at once. "Christ, you're fucking beautiful, aren't you?

"I always knew. Seen it for years. All bright fucking eyes and that sweet fucking voice" -- the hand around Reilly's throat eases, merciful -- "you're always more beautiful when it's for me, you know."

What clear fluid pearls at the tip of Reilly's dick is swiped, greedily, beneath Jack's thumb. His fingers tighten on the way down and his hand twists on the slide up, and he pushes his thumb deliberately over Reilly's slit in a bid to make him drip for him.

has he been in any other man's lap? definitely never so willingly, never so relaxed. hands slide up jack's chest, unabashed now that he's got him here. his marvel of a boy. just as jack taught him earlier this morning, he wraps an arm around his neck, claiming a kiss. there's a grumble of satisfaction. he could do this all day, only this. now that they're here, now that this is so very intentional, reilly's so giddy that he's nearly smiling too much to kiss him properly.

"i feel good in your t-shirt, benny."

his thinking is starting to slow. jack smells so good, tastes like fruit. reilly's thighs part a little further, pressing himself even closer somehow. it's always been like this, wanting to burrow inside each other.

"might feel better out of it though."

he's known for a long time that his anatomy isn't wholly human, even consulted with some trusted doctors, paid under the table, to help him understand himself. as a byproduct of his nature, lust has laid so dormant for him for so many years. his body feels more alive, almost painfully so. his breathing is heavier, his blood rushing. all for jack.

and reilly wants this to be good for jack. he thinks about telling him that, thinks to say i want to be good for you. instead, all he manages is a frustrated whine in the warm space between them and a twitch of his hardening cock. another kiss, this one with the wet of his tongue. he's getting bolder.

"'jack, m not gonna be able t'get enough of you," he breathlessly pleas. he can't imagine having this hunger satisfied, needs jack to help him, needs jack to save him from himself. with a pang of guilt, he recalls what his intentions had been. more of that lazy, sloppy kissing and the confidence that they have all day to do as they please. instead, he feels like a needy bitch in heat.

then, he remembers what jack said this morning, and his wicked smile returns.

Jack's own ease makes Reilly's restlessness even starker. Feeling the press of a tongue against his own, Jack meets that pressure with a soft moan. All the while, both to satisfy his brother's clinginess and to lay his own claim, he lets his hand trail down until it curves over the swell of Reilly's ass. It's mid-squeeze when Reilly starts speaking again, but in the moment Jack is so caught up tasting him that he chases after his mouth, noses brushing before he licks greedily at Reilly's moving lips.

"Yeah," he purrs, "I like it a lot."

When Jack opens his eyes, the blue of them's gone dark with reciprocated need. Though they refuse to leave Reilly's body, his hands move nevertheless, sliding over the planes of him until they catch at the hem of his borrowed shirt. Jack pushes the fabric up, smoothing his palms over Reilly's belly, and takes a breath through his teeth as he teases along the edges of Reilly's chest.

"You can want things," he insists, palms against the slight swells of Reilly's tits. Jack's thumbs arc upward, pressing and rubbing at Reilly's nipples as they peak beneath his touch.

"Nobody's gonna see, y'know." The kiss Jack offers is almost innocent, even as his nails bite into Reilly's buds. "Nobody else matters but us, anyway."

Finally taking his shirt in hand, Jack tugs it over Reilly's head, tossing it haphazardly to the side once it's free. It catches the end of his bed before sliding to the floor-- not that Jack notices, distracted as he is by the sight of his brother's flesh. His teeth dig into the corner of his lip, and he feels a little bit like a helpless teenager when he stares, but with a slight shake of the head Jack tugs the garters of his suspenders from his shoulders so he can get his own shirt off, too.

This time, when he pulls Reilly to him for another kiss, their flesh is bare. This time, when Jack's fingers trace down his brother's spine, he feels every nub so thinly covered by soft skin. His right hand slips into Reilly's boxers, skimming his ass with blunt nails, and his left curves around his throat so his index and thumb can caress his jaw.

“Would you prefer I call you something else?” Andres replied, raising a brow before a smile slowly spread over his lips. He did have to laugh at the way Jack seemed so dramatic, though he knew that the other was just teasing as much as he was. Setting down the gun he had been cleaning, he made his way over to the counter, leaning back against it as he watched Jack.

"You missed me so much you were counting," he sighed, folding his arms over the counter with a wistful expression.

"You really are fucking cute sometimes, you know that?"

And though Jack purposely ignored the implication of trouble, he did dutifully pull his old, favourite revolver out from his shoulder holster. Though Jack could very well care for the gun himself, Andres' workplace was so tied to the Kearney Family traditions that self-care felt unnecessary. The gun itself was still gorgeous for the most part-- Jack had only had to fire it four times since he was last here-- but it didn't have to look shitty for him to keep it well-maintained.

"I'm just here for the usual cleaning and check-up," he said, sliding the weapon over for Andres to see. "But there is a shipment coming in about two weeks that I'll need you to look over.

feel free to edit or elaborate as you please .   ( add  ‘ reverse ‘  to your message if you’d like to see how my muse would perform the action ) . otherwise , send in one of these for my muse’s reaction to   …

[ lit ]  your muse lighting a cigarette , spliff , etc. for mine . 

[ order ]  your muse ordering for mine at a restaurant or bar .

[ guide ]  your muse putting a hand on mine’s back to lead them .

[ pay ]  your muse paying for mine at a store , bar , restaurant , etc . ( you can specify where or for what . )

[ open ]  your muse opening a door for mine .

[ dry ]  your muse drying mine off with a towel after a shower , bath , swimming , etc . 

[ instruct ]  your muse giving mine instructions / telling them what to do . 

[ groom ]  your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc . 

[ direct ]  your muse taking mine by the chin and telling them to look yours in the eye .

[ disagree ]  your muse sternly telling mine  ‘ no ‘ .

[ rest ]  your muse resting their arm over mine’s shoulder / s .

[ clean ]  your muse cleaning a smudge of something off mine’s cheek , forehead , etc .   feel free to specify what and how . 

[ answer ]  your muse answering a question meant for mine . 

[ coat ]   your muse holds mine’s coat out for them while they put it on .

[ pilot ]  your muse taking mine by the arm , hand , shoulder , etc . to lead them . 

[ stare ]  your muse staring mine down . 

[ placement ]  your muse telling mine to sit down .

[ teach ]  your muse taking control of mine’s hand , arm , hips , etc . to make sure they do something correctly .  

[ patience ]  your muse telling mine to be patient .

[ tears ]  your muse wiping away mine’s tears .

[ swat ]  your muse swatting mine’s hand away from something they’re not supposed to touch .  

[ jewelry  ]  your muse clasping a piece of jewelry for mine , such as a necklace , or earrings . 

[ enough ]  your muse commanding mine to stop talking . 

[ retrieve ]  your muse requesting or ordering mine to retrieve them something .

[ invite ]  your muse inviting mine to sit on their lap .

[ lean ]  your muse inviting mine to lean into their side while they’re sitting or laying together . 

[ calm ]   your muse telling mine to  ‘ just breathe ‘ .

[ scold ]  your muse scolding mine for something .

[ comfort ]  your muse pulling mine into a reassuring hug .

[ approval ]  your muse complimenting mine on a choice they’ve made .

[ beckon ]  your muse beckoning mine to them without speaking . 

[ laces ]  your muse lacing , tying , or zipping something for mine , such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc .

[ stay ]  your muse telling mine to stay in the car . 

[ defend ]  your muse defending mine’s reputation , dignity , or safety for them . 

[ feed ]  your muse feeding mine something , feel free to specify what .

[ volume ]  your muse demanding mine speak louder .

[ read ]  your muse reading something to mine .

[ refill ]  your muse refilling mine’s glass for them . 

all day and then some?

it's impressive to see this side of jack. sure, ambitious, in command. he'll look back at this moment with more clarity and he'll even dare to call it romantic. two people who miss each other even when they're near, setting aside all else to be together.

"morning exercise," reilly repeats, laughing to himself. silly bastard.

smiling at his bowl, still rosy, he struggles to figure out the correct speed to eat his oatmeal. by the time he's down to the last spoonfuls, jack is up and tending to the dishes and it's easier to wolf his food down when his back is turned. briefly, he feels bad the coffee was neglected but then he admires the breadth of jack's shoulders and the coffee can go fuck itself.

he places his bowl politely, if shyly, by the sink and places a hand between his brother's shoulder blades in the same movement.

"...i'll be upstairs."

in the bedroom, his robe is cast aside. proudly, he gets to don nothing but his boxers and jack's t-shirt. thumbing through his record collection, it finally starts to feel real. each moment, he's been guessing that something will go wrong, or at the very least, that this is all some fiction he's been spinning for himself.

but no. this is the album he'll kiss his brother to. smooth and jazzy, instrumental, the kind of music that makes him want a smoke. most importantly, it will lend them a rhythm without any distraction. reilly wants to be able to hear jack well.

And even then, unlike all his other trysts with intimacy this feels less like forcing a lie and more like near-natural evolution. Rather than a carefully crafted act of domesticity, he's having Brother Time with his Sandy-- something that's always been a part of him, even before the family legacy dug its claws into his back. Something that's honest and true. Something that he looks forward to now with as much boyish excitement as he did when he was twelve.

But he opens the door to his room, sees his brother's back as he delicately rifles through his record collection, and feels something deeper than excitement curl in his gut. Reilly is here, yes, and Jack is excited to play with him, but the slip of his hands on Reilly's waist and the press of his lips to the back of his neck is more mature in its desire. The fires are still manageable, and Jack is able to keep his composure as he kisses the curve of Reilly's ear and murmurs for him to put the record in, but the want feels distinctly grown up.

He's grown up, though. And because Jack's a man now too Reilly doesn't feel nearly as out of reach as he did before, back when Jack was helpless to do anything but watch his big brother leave him behind.

Grateful, Jack presses kisses to his neck and shoulder, wanting everything his Sandy has to give.

"Hey," he whispers once the music's going, allowing Reilly ample room to face him just so he can meet his gaze with a crooked grin. "Miss me?"

Jack's hands squeeze Reilly's hips, then trace the lines of his Adonis belt with his thumbs.

"You picked a nice one." In a familiar motion, Jack's guiding Reilly to move with him, stepping back towards the messy sheets of his unmade bed. "Not that I own anything shitty to begin with, but..."

Jack sits, and if Reilly's amenable, he's guiding him to straddle his lap. Fuck, it feels amazing sober-- more so when Jack strokes down Reilly's side and the swell of his thigh.

With a groan ( her life was quite hard, after all ), Artemis sagged into the couch. The side of her head bumped into Jack's upper arm, and her knee knocked gently into his. She blew out the sort of long, frustrated breath that only a teenager could properly muster. Everyone around her was an idiot that lacked basic communication skills, it seemed — except her father ( and her mother ... when Ares wasn't lecturing her on how hitting anything outside of the punching bag hanging in the basement was not an acceptable form of emotional release ).

Hell, at the end of Artemis' lament, all he could muster at first was a quick: "Hang on, we're going straight to miserable?"

As if he'd never been so dramatic in his own teen years.

"What the hell's this Cindy know about life, huh?" Jack posited then. This was less a dig at Artemis' friend (even though it also wasn't not a dig) and more an attempt to get Artemis to question her reality and the rules therein.

"Just 'cause she saw something doesn't mean you did. Why're we pretending like Cindy's the be-all, end-all for boy wisdom?"

Jack shook his head.

"This is what you should think about-- who makes you happy, kiddo? This idiot who comes up thinking he can just kiss you by surprise" -- huh, wasn't that how I bagged Ares? -- "or the boy who, despite knowing you're a certified badass, still walks you to your locker?"

jack has him fooled, at first. reilly thinks maybe this will be a predictable conversation, they'll talk about work and fall into a rhythm that's undisturbed by the taste of each other in their mouths. he's finally digging into his food, giving a quiet kudos, as jack starts to think over the question.

then the attention is placed right back onto himself.

a glance over to jack and he sees that fucking grin. god damn it. too clever for his own good. audacious. always so good at getting himself into trouble. with the both of them goading each other on, reilly gets a rare moment of foresight in jack's presence. if jack won't find fault here, if he won't slow them down and this is left to manifest as it pleases, they'll be changed forever. reilly certainly can't put the breaks on this at all.

he pictures carrying his bowl of oatmeal with him, taking gulps of it as he guides jack back to the bedroom. his face is warm again and he huffs a sigh.

"you say that as if i could possibly articulate what i want from you right now." a bashful smile as he lets himself meet jack's gaze.

but he won't let himself off that easily. jack is asking for authenticity, a peek into reilly's mind, and so reilly rubs his thumb over jack's and gives it a longer moment of consideration.

"i'd like to spend the day with you." easy enough to say. he licks his lips, glances down at his lap briefly. "i don't want to worry about anyone stealing you from me." a note of humor, because that's far more possessive than a brother ought to be.

"it's pure greed but..." there's another gentle laugh. he's been such a proponent of jack having friends and networking and ensuring his life is full. today, reilly wants his life to be small, small enough that they can hold it between them. his eyes search jack's face, his steady smile tinged with the vulnerability of confession and the hope of being spoiled once more.

The spot on Jack's hand that Reilly's thumb rubbed is molten.

"Jesus." His voice comes out softer than intended. Jack blinks because his heart started fluttering, and that's pretty humiliating.

Still, he says, "You need to be greedy more often if it makes you say shit like that."

His grin's softened some, but is ever-present, exposing Jack's crooked teeth and bringing out the lines near his eyes. It even remains when Jack takes another kiss, but how can he not, when Reilly's being so honest? When his brother is so fucking cute like this, all vulnerable and sweet and special?

"You have my full attention," he murmurs, lips brushing Reilly's own. "You can have it all day and then some."

There's a slight darkening of his eyes then, but nothing so bad as to be intimidating. Reilly's beautiful like this-- irresistible in his awkward admission of truth. Jack looks at him with all the want a person could feel for another person and everything in between.

The I love you, for one. The I see you, for another.

The I'll take everything you have to offer, Sandy, I'll core you like a fucking apple too.

"Breakfast," is Jack's initial, simple instruction, "and then you're picking a record for the player in my room.

"Something nice to kiss to." His brows waggle, shameless as ever. "Get some good morning exercise in before we take a bath, yeah?"

oh, with tongue and everything. yes, jack is spoiling him. incredible how all it's taken is one drunken night to experience such a shift. certainly, something has changed, even if it's all still familiar. it's a good thing he hadn't let his mind wander too far in bed. any fantasies would've paled in comparison to the real thing.

he'd be grinning into this kiss if his face weren't so hot and if jack's rumble hadn't been answered in kind with a soft noise of wanting.

funny, how life has come rushing up to meet him. it makes sense that it would be jack, of all people, to surprise him. at this ripe age, most would expect reilly knows himself. his wants, his values, even what he finds attractive and how he wants to be treated. the truth is far different, and it was an unintended consequence of shirking commitment and responsibility at each opportunity. he had been touched before, certainly. but he had never realized the intimacy of looking at someone and knowing with full confidence he'd never regret being by their side.

beyond being his brother, jack is, after all, a terribly handsome and competent man. he's always had the most unfiltered version of reilly, too, in hindsight. perhaps that's why, when reilly sits, he's no good at hiding the daze he's in. oatmeal is scooped into a bowl, somewhat awkwardly since he won't lose his connection to jack for the sake of grace.

"oh--" a quiet exhale of a laugh, "nah, i've really done it to myself." he smirks. alcohol and reilly have never mixed together well. "i'll be buzzin' half the day still." it's said in jest, even if there's some truth in it. sleep has done wonders for his sobriety but as slow as his metabolism is, it'll be in his system for some time now.

"food'll help. thank you."

he reaches for the fruit and begins idly laying it atop his oatmeal, piece by piece, occasionally contemplating which to reach for next. there's something to be said, resting on the tip of his tongue, and he's not sure what it is. rather, he knows what it is, but isn't sure how to ask it without sounding impossibly pathetic.

My big brother drank more than I did.

Jack isn't quite as meticulous about his own food: he drops some scoops of oatmeal, a splash of milk, and generous handfuls of fruit. He's already shoveling some of it into his mouth, as ravenous as he's always been, by the time Reilly speaks to him again.

WIth his mouth still full, all he can manage in reply is, "Mm?"

But he does think about it, to his credit. Busy. Jack's always got some correspondence to do-- it's a fact of life like the sun in the sky and the ground under his feet-- but he only needs to be physically away on Sunday morning. His thumb slides up and down the side of Reilly's index finger in thought.

"It's not so bad," is his diplomatic answer. Any possible emergencies notwithstanding, anyway. "Why..."

Jack doesn't even finish the rest of his sentence because it hits him then. The end of his left canine digs into his lip as his mouth tugs up.

"Oh, I see what's going on."

Jack leans over, lifting their joined hands as he does. With his elbow on the table, he kisses the tops of Reilly's knuckles and watches him with a grin.

"You know, Sandy, it doesn't hurt to ask for things every once a while."

a new kiss. is reilly going to lose count of them? well, can they quantify what they did to each other last night anyway? reilly leans into the kiss, chases after it even, and sighs when it ends.

it's easy for jack to pull him along, an easy smile beginning to crinkle the corners of his eyes. how absolutely taboo and forbidden it is, to wonder where his brother's hands will fall next. reilly would give jack the world, it should be no surprise he'd give him his self. still, it makes no sense to him. adaptive as he is, and by nature of his studies, he's learned to roll with the punches. whatever this new reality is, he can only use what feels right as a guide through it.

so when jack apologizes, he's comfortable enough to cut in a quick and dulcet, "no."

keeping everyone at arm's length has meant reilly can't remember the last time he woke up to breakfast. let alone one prepared so deliberately.

"it's perfect, benj." his voice carries with it that sense of adventure, as it so commonly does. that said, he's sentimental too, two seconds away from tearing up at the provider his brother has become. he would make someone very lucky. reilly's not sure if he can be that lucky, but life is far too short not to have fun with it.

and that may be why he's more eager to bask in jack's touch than he is to sit and eat. jack isn't pulling him any more but still, reilly ends up closer than he needs to be. one hand rests fingertips on the kitchen table, the other holding far more securely onto jack's upper arm. his inner conflict is hardly subtle.

“I didn’t do anything,” comes his flimsy defence. Jack’s hand takes Reilly’s where it rests on his bicep, then guides it upward to loop his big brother’s arm around his own neck.

“Think you’re just getting used to being spoiled.”

But even if there’s a teasing complaint hidden there, Jack presses his palm to the top of the table to hold himself steady as he bends to kiss Reilly once more. Last night, his brother had been receptive even in the sluggishness of drinking—his mouth so soft, so pliant for use. His weight so simple to pull onto Jack’s own because the distance was starting to hurt. This morning, Jack’s tongue curves against the seam of Reilly’s lips in a bid to let him taste him from the inside.

The kiss is slow, and somewhere in the middle of it Jack’s index curls beneath Reilly’s chin to keep it tipped up as he eats of him. It lasts a time and a half; one last suck to his brother’s tongue is all the warning Jack gives before he pulls back with a low growl rumbling in his chest.

Jack looks at him then, lets out a “hm” as if he’d just contemplated a mighty truth (that's enough), and then swipes his thumb over Reilly’s bottom lip.

“That’s all you’re getting for now, huh?” Spoiled. Jack is spoiling him and he can't stop. “I’m not letting you skip breakfast after all that drinking, Sandy.”

But when Jack sits, deliberately placing himself by Reilly’s non-dominant hand, he does lace their fingers together. His free hand pops some pieces of strawberry into his mouth after.