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A lovely person informed me that they “felt like they had sinned just reading my tag list” and that was the best thing I’d heard all week. So here’s a small snippet of the next chapter of Mirror of Life. Without the wall of tags. :)
Jack blearily blinked his eyes. He was not a small guy, he was the same height as Steve really, and sharing a bed meant lots of tangled limbs. Rogers snuggled up on Jack’s chest and made an odd huff of pleasure. Jack tried to push him off, but it was no use. Rogers had a better grip than that armored octopus.
Guilt stabbed Jack in the gut for a moment as he thought about the Magistrate, but Jack brushed it aside. It never would have worked.
What was his double like on this world? Obviously, female, that was a given. He was quite curious. There were a lot of things he wanted to know about this world if he could just get Steve Rogers off of his chest. “Hey. I gotta piss.” Jack squirmed and tapped Steve on the shoulder. “Move.”
Rogers grunted, grabbed the edge of the blanket and flipped over, wrapping himself up in a blanket burrito.
Jack made his way to the bathroom, used the toilet and peered in the mirror above the sink while washing his hands. How much time was passing while they jumped? It seemed like his injuries were healing far too quickly for the time he could account for. There were barely any scabs on the red scarred stars on his back and no hint of the octopus hickies. He did have a huge fresh one on his neck though, right where it would peek above a SHIELD issue shirt. Goddamnit Rogers.
He turned on the shower and stepped in, took a few pumps of all purpose body soap from the dispenser mounted in the stall and tried to wash off the humiliation of the previous evening. It didn’t work and his traitorous flesh stiffened in his soapy hand. Jack shrugged. Better to get it out of the way now and not be thinking about it whole damned day. Who could he complain to other than Brock? Brock would just get pissed off because in his mind Jack plus sex equaled jumping and he wouldn’t want to get left behind. That bed was too small for three people. Jack snorted as he thought about it. He stuck his face under the spray and when he stepped out, he backed up into a wall of muscles.
Rogers was behind him, naked.“Having memory issues, Jack? I thought I told you. You don’t get to come until I make you come.”
“Oh fucking hell. Really?” Jack’s lips tightened. “Maybe you’re not up for the job.” What was he doing? Taunting this man who could quite literally break him in half on a whim? A quiet voice deep down inside Jack whispered that he knew exactly what he was doing. “It’s okay. You’re an old man. Happens to the best of us.”
Steve’s eyes sparkled at the challenge and Jack felt like he was twitching a string in front of a tiger. “Old man, am I?