Jet Link | 002 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
metalicarus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2014-09-26 02:09 am
metalicarus) wrote in makinglies2014-09-26 02:09 am
Entry tags:
You belong to me
This stupid party had been a bad idea from the start. He'd had to dress up in some dumb tux and then try and mingle with a bunch of people where the only common ground was the military, politics and world issues and, of course, the popular one was the trouble with America, at least once they found out where Jet was from.
Luckily, none of them knew he'd had a hand in the conflict or even that he'd worked for the NSA, those records had been wiped courtesy of Frannie and Ivan, but they still felt like it was an okay issue to broach. Like there weren't a thousand others Jet would rather talk about.
But even the niceties and the repeated conversations he could get through with little more than a headache and annoyance, he was there to support Albert after all, he was only at this function because of his partner needing to be there and have a 'plus one.' No, the reason Jet was finding this night so incredibly hard to bear was the fact that, since her arrival only ten minutes after theirs, Albert's boss hadn't left his side. She was a constant presence with her hands on him as often as she could manage--true, always a hand on an arm or shoulder, but every graze of contact sent fire through Jet's veins.
It wasn't even just the touches, it was the way she looked at him, or the way she acted as though they were there together and the way she was constantly in his space like she owned it; if Jet weren't against hitting women, he'd have decked her an hour ago. Jet had been trying to catch his partner's eye all night, but it seemed there was always someone talking to one of them or it was that woman monopolizing the older man's time. Jet was pretty sure that if he could kill her with his eyes, she'd be dead a hundred times over.
Jet sat in a chair in a corner, watching as she linked her arm with his and laughed at something someone was saying. Distantly, a clock chimed nine times, marking their third hour there and Jet decided the niceties were over. There was fire in his blood and in his wake as he crossed the room and none-to-gently gripped his partner's unfettered arm. He turned a sharp smile on the bane of this night's existence and gave a very weak response along the lines of it being late and how nice it was to 'meet' her before jerking Albert along with him and towards the elevator that would take them to their room. He didn't pause or let go until the metal doors slid shut behind them.
He'd had enough.
Luckily, none of them knew he'd had a hand in the conflict or even that he'd worked for the NSA, those records had been wiped courtesy of Frannie and Ivan, but they still felt like it was an okay issue to broach. Like there weren't a thousand others Jet would rather talk about.
But even the niceties and the repeated conversations he could get through with little more than a headache and annoyance, he was there to support Albert after all, he was only at this function because of his partner needing to be there and have a 'plus one.' No, the reason Jet was finding this night so incredibly hard to bear was the fact that, since her arrival only ten minutes after theirs, Albert's boss hadn't left his side. She was a constant presence with her hands on him as often as she could manage--true, always a hand on an arm or shoulder, but every graze of contact sent fire through Jet's veins.
It wasn't even just the touches, it was the way she looked at him, or the way she acted as though they were there together and the way she was constantly in his space like she owned it; if Jet weren't against hitting women, he'd have decked her an hour ago. Jet had been trying to catch his partner's eye all night, but it seemed there was always someone talking to one of them or it was that woman monopolizing the older man's time. Jet was pretty sure that if he could kill her with his eyes, she'd be dead a hundred times over.
Jet sat in a chair in a corner, watching as she linked her arm with his and laughed at something someone was saying. Distantly, a clock chimed nine times, marking their third hour there and Jet decided the niceties were over. There was fire in his blood and in his wake as he crossed the room and none-to-gently gripped his partner's unfettered arm. He turned a sharp smile on the bane of this night's existence and gave a very weak response along the lines of it being late and how nice it was to 'meet' her before jerking Albert along with him and towards the elevator that would take them to their room. He didn't pause or let go until the metal doors slid shut behind them.
He'd had enough.
no subject
His voice contained his tiredness, but it also held how pleased he was with their current state. Although, being a little cleaner wouldn't be horrible. He distantly appreciated that they hadn't moved to the bed like he'd first intended, it would mean they'd have somewhere clean to fold into each other...after getting clean themselves.
So as cozy as the ground was becoming, Jet stood and pulled Albert up with him, stealing a single kiss before leading them both into the bathroom.
"C'mon, I'll clean up the mess I made on you at least."
He turned the water on and made sure it was the right temperature before turning on the spray and turning to work on removing the rest of their clothes. All but Albert's tie now on the floor, Jet grabbed the poor silk and wound it around his hand so he could pull his partner in close to him.
"Before I let you clean up, I wanna know you learned your lesson."
Whatever half-hearted threat had been in his voice during the act had all but fallen away after it, but he still pressed in close and used his height to his advantage to try and make an impression. Though he'd thoroughly claimed what was his as was evidenced by the blossoming bruises and marks left on Albert, there was still a part of him that wanted to hear it again anyway; one more time before they carried on with the rest of their evening.
no subject
He's weak in the knees. He didn't even know he could still get weak in the knees and that alone makes his stomach flutter, but Jet's pulling him close - by the tie no less - and Albert has to wonder if he's really all that spent or if he could go for a round two in not too long. For now, nothing sounds sweeter than the hot water on the bruises and love marks Jet had branded him with, not so he can wash them away but so he can feel their presence as a sharp reminder and not just a dull ache.
"I'm yours, Spätzchen. Every inch, inside and out, body and soul." He pulls Jet in those last few centimeters, arms around his waist and shoulders as he murmurs gently into his husband's neck. "I'll never stray. How could I? When I've already found completion with you."
no subject
His grip tightened on the scarf and his eyes darted down then quickly back up to look at the shower instead to try and save face. "Good. Now get in the goddamn shower, you sap."
It was a little harsher than he meant, making him panic briefly that his husband might think he was mad. Jet's hand came up to cup Albert's cheek as he released the tie and the blond leaned in to offer the first gentle kiss he'd given all night. It was sweet and chaste and affectionate and hopefully held the message Jet wanted to send: Albert's words were exactly what he needed to hear, in fact, he felt the same.
no subject
"Only if you come with me." He whispers it against Jet's lips, still spent and in no shape for a round two just yet, but even a shower door between himself and his love is too much in this moment. It's not like Albert to be clingy but in this case, where he knows Jet had felt wrong, he wants to banish any doubt that still lingers even after their impassioned performance.