makinglies | New York State of Mind

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New York State of Mind

It's been nearly a month and only now does Albert have his head on straight again. It took a near-death experience to do it, but in those moments he'd thought were his last when all the things he regrets went running the 'this is your life' marathon through his head one stuck out in particular. And that one is in a seventh story apartment that looms large and foreboding in the mid-autumn drizzle.

He pockets the scrap of paper he'd been clutching, address on it long since memorized. He should just go up there and say his piece. Most likely Jet will kick him right back to the street again. As well he should. Albert hadn't exactly been the model partner in the time they'd spent together. His heart had been in it, but the rest of him still quailed, afraid to get too invested, afraid that he would screw it all up regardless. At least if he didn't try then he could blame the failure on that. But that's not fair to Jet, and if he were honest not fair to himself either. He knows that now, that in his heart of hearts he's already invested. The things he's frightened of doing are the very things he wants more than anything. Jet, more than anyone else, makes him feel human.

Screwing up his courage, Albert walks right up to the door of the apartment building, then turns away and strides to the corner of the block instead, shoulders hunched against the freezing mist. He needs something first. He's not stalling. Really.

It's relatively slim pickings in the little bodega on the corner but Albert manages to pull several small bouquets into one large one. Roses and baby's breath might be a little cliche, but it's what they have and it's hopefully a gesture Jet will appreciate, especially since it cost Albert an entire day's worth of spending money. Not that it matters. If it softens Jet for even a moment, it'll be worth it.

If.

He stops on his trek back up the block, staring at the flowers as if they'd suddenly start speaking to him. It's too much, isn't it? Roses? That's what he would always do for Hilda when she was cross with him, buy her flowers or jewelry, but Jet isn't Hilda. He'd never thought of Jet as Hilda, of course, but flowers seem such a feminine gift...

No, it's fine. It'll be fine. Who doesn't like flowers?

Halfway up the stairs he wonders if maybe Jet doesn't like flowers, or he'll throw them back in Albert's face for trying to treat him like 'some broad'.

Two thirds of the way back down he kicks himself mentally to just do it, damnit! Stop being such a coward! He'll either like them or not but the flowers aren't the point. The point is he's here, he'll apologize from the bottom of his heart, and Jet will take him back.

Well, ideally Jet will take him back.

He's already in front of the apartment door when that nagging voice in the back of his head tauntingly asks how often things are ever ideal. He paces once, twice in front of the door, mouth a thin and troubled line cutting across his face as he hems and haws, trying to reconcile what he hopes will happen with what's more likely.

Just do it!!

He knocks, heart in his throat.

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He watches Jet get pink, then haughtily turn and make his way back into the apartment, leaving Albert to stare after him for a moment. He has the distinct feeling of being watched, but he chalks that up to his utter self consciousness as he steps inside carefully and closes the door.

The apartment is just as he remembers, threadbare furniture and baseball blaring on the old dial-and-rabbit-ear television. Glassware clinks as Jet juggles the flowers and a scuffed pitcher, Albert nearly moving to help, but instead standing with his back to the closed door awkwardly, only succeeding in removing his hat and twisting it between gloved hands.

So he'd managed to gain entry. Good, that's a good step. Jet maybe didn't want him face down in a gutter at least, though even that would be more than he deserves. Albert had gone over it so many times in his head since they'd parted, how from Jet's point of view he must have lead him on then rabbited at the first sign of real commitment. He's ashamed of himself which is why it's taken him even this long to make it to America. The fight with his doppelganger had been at least two weeks ago and made him think long and hard - again - about what makes him feel human, what makes him a man. Of course, this entire thing is making him feel more like a mouse.

Jet's question startles Albert out of his reverie, making him jump and twist his cap all out of shape. He busies himself smoothing it as he answers, not making eye contact.

"I... I came to see you. I want to apologize. What I did wasn't fair and I know now it hurt you. That was never my intent." So formal! He looks at the hat, as if talking to it instead of Jet will make this any easier. "I understand if you don't want to do this anymore, but I just wondered... I mean, I hope..."

He swallows, looking up at Jet from under his bangs shyly, barely daring to hope. "...that you'll forgive me?"

That had been what Jet was hoping to hear and, admittedly, wasn't too surprising since the only two options for Albert showing up here was to put things back together or to end things for good and he figured the older cyborg wouldn't waste a whole plane trip for the latter.

Still, even having sort of been expecting it, it made Jet's heart flutter in a way that just reminded him of some love-struck chick and he was half tempted to just go over and kiss the idiot because of it. But he couldn't, not yet.

He leaned back against the kitchen's counter, arms crossed in a subconsciously protective way. "Yeah...yeah, I forgive you Al, I get where you were coming from...and I'd like to keep doing this. A lot more than you probably know." He faltered, trying to piece together how he was feeling into words and decided borrowing Cathy's would probably work best; she was better at this sort of thing.

"But not if it's only going to be a half-way thing. There's a difference between being patient and being strung along and I'm not the kind of guy to just stand around and let that happen." Even for the only person he'd ever felt like this for. It would be nice in a pathetic way, but he had more self-respect than that.

He sighed and finally looked up, choosing to look right at the older man whether his eyes were met or not. "So, what'll it be? Are you in or not?"

"I'm in," he meets Jet's eyes with an intensely relieved but still apologetic gaze. He knows that just because Jet's taking him back doesn't mean he doesn't have amends to make. But when he says he's in, he means it. No more hesitation, no more tangling himself up in his own worries or past or humanity. Jet's already professed not to care about any of that, to just want Albert as he is. Hell, in retrospect the American had been beyond patient with him, which is a feat in and of itself for Jet who is a very instant gratification sort of person.

"Just... hit me if I mess up again. Box my ears or something." He barks a soft, self deprecating laugh, perching the rudely abused cap back on his head. "Believe me when I say the last thing I want to do is ruin the only good thing to come my way in decades. I'm sorry I almost did."

Jet smiled a bit, hearing that, though he didn't move at all till Albert spoke again. "Yeah, sure thing." He wouldn't and the reason why was the very last bit Albert had said that Jet couldn't bring himself to mention, but he'd call the older cyborg out on it, no doubt. If Albert was making this promise to him, Jet was going to hold him to it. He didn't want to regret something so important to him.

The lanky teen pushed away from the counter and closed the distance between them so he could lean down and press a kiss to his partner's lips. One hand curled around the back of the German's neck as Jet deepened the kiss and poured into it everything he couldn't say and all of the desire he'd been holding back since Albert had first shown up on his doorstep--more than that, since they'd parted ways over a month ago.

That was the bothersome thing about feelings, even while they were being hurt, they made him only want to kiss the other man senseless. Now he could.

The kiss is unexpected but welcome and leaves Albert entirely breathless. It takes him only a moment to slide his gloved hands around Jet's narrow frame and lean in, breathing in the man that he's missed so desperately. His eyes fall closed and he finally relaxes, this action being the proof that everything was going to be alright, that everything is forgiven.

It was so simple he can't imagine why he was afraid at all.

When the finally part lips to breathe, Albert doesn't go far. He rests his forehead against Jet's, bringing one hand up to brush through the fiery red bangs at his temple. "I missed you."

Everything must be back to normal if Albert was saying things Jet couldn't respond to again. The teen's face did a good job impersonating his hair as he brought his hand up to find Albert's glove-covered metal one and thread their fingers together.

Brown eyes find white with how close they are now, the feeling of Albert's forehead against his comfortingly familiar. He'd missed the German too. "Well...we're here now. Let's do something about it."

"Hmm... yes, but I want to do this right," there's a mischievous current to his words as he pecks another kiss on Jet's cheek then pulls away to adjust his hat. "Get your coat, its chilly out."

For the next few hours, Albert intends to treat Jet like royalty. Unfortunately that's difficult when he has all of thirty dollars and a bus transfer in his pocket, but he makes do. Not everything has to cost money; in fact, it's often that the best things in life are free, isn't that what they say?

They hop the subway to Central Park, the weather not having changed much for the short while he'd spent in Jet's apartment, yet the world seems brighter for Albert, so much so that he risks curling his gloved fingers around Jet's hidden between them on the seat until they get to their stop. The air is still heavy with the misty threat of chill rain, but to Albert it seems sparkling and crystal.

He buys them a hot dog each from a cart on the sidewalk, along with a coffee for himself and a soda for Jet. They wind their way through the park, over paths and under bridges, eating and talking and generally enjoying each other's company. There's plenty to catch up on, their lives so different when they're apart, and it has the added effect of Albert mentally kicking himself for missing so much because of his fears. He was so afraid of losing what he had he nearly let it go in the first place. Idiotic.

They end up sitting on a bench by one of the may ponds dotting the park, luckily not yet frozen over, and Albert makes an offering of the last of his hot dog bun to the assembled mass of pigeons and ducks, sipping at his cooling coffee and taking a sidelong look at Jet, trying to gauge how much the other cyborg is enjoying himself. This is a bit quieter than Jet likes things generally, he knows, and Albert's suddenly hit with a pang of self-consciousness that he couldn't take him on a more exciting date. Indoor go-kart racing, paintball, something other than a walk in the park on a fall day. He feels old and boring in that moment and valiantly attempts to swallow his anxiety as he searches Jet's posture and expression for any impatience or unease.

Albert would find his companion not impatient or bored in the slightest. There was a peace about him that only showed up on occasion, mostly when Jet wasn't aware he was being watched and didn't realize his usual pomp and attitude wasn't up. There was even a small but content smile on his face as he looked out across the pond.

Honestly, he was the happiest he'd been in a long time, even before their argument. He'd always liked spending time with Albert, no matter what it was they were doing, but this had been just about perfect. Jet's only real experience with dates were the ones Albert had taken him on and this was one of his favorites so far.

He didn't need fancy entertainment or even anything really exciting, their lives were often pretty exciting already. Sure, he liked new things and having fun, but he had fun just by being with Albert and being themselves, almost as though they were normal human guys. Nothing was perfect, and this was no exception, they had disagreements, different tastes in...just about everything and neither of them were without issues, but with how comfortable Albert made him feel--more comfortable than anyone in the teens life had ever made him feel--how Jet could just be himself no matter what that meant and know he wasn't going to get judged for it one way or another...well, he figured this was about as close to perfect as he was going to get and it was already a lot more than he'd ever thought he'd find.

He glanced over and noticed Albert's gaze on him, making his cheeks color more than they already were in the cold and his smile widened as he moved a bit closer so he could lean a little against the shorter man.

"I'm glad you came here. Came to see me. I missed you too."

Jet's words flood Albert with relief and the German presses a brief, soft kiss into Jet's hair before leaning back in turn, watching the ducks be jealous that they could never be this happy.

He is that. Happy. It's no wonder that it's such a surprise to Albert to be happy considering his life. After Hilda's death and his remodeling, he'd sincerely believed that happiness would never again be within his reach, that the best he could achieve would be temporary relief until his permanent and terminal release, something he'd hoped for at the time with an embarrassing amount of conviction. He'd almost resented Jet then, the voice in the grate that wouldn't let him just sink and drown. Albert had tried to make him understand, explained that the sun had gone out and that there'd been no point in living if all they were to be was tools of destruction. Machines.

Jet didn't let him give up.

In retrospect, he'd fallen a little in love with him even then, but under caked layers of self loathing and grief there was no way Albert could have recognized it. It took their escape decades later and an obscene amount of careful mental sorting to realize, and still, still, he'd only just finally been able to surrender entirely now, years and years later.

But maybe it's true that slow and steady wins the race. In this moment, with Jet's head on his shoulder and his cheek against scarlet locks, peacefully watching the birds do battle over the last crumbs of a toasted hot dog bun, he certainly feels as if he's won something.

Public be damned; he shifts so he can plant a warm kiss on Jet's lips. It's light and tastes a little bit like coffee, but it hopefully communicates every iota of happiness and contentment that Albert feels in that moment. He doesn't pull far to speak. "Let's go back to your place."

Jet was right there with Albert on keeping their more intimate interactions behind closed doors, but that didn't stop him from kissing back as a little excited thrill that usually came with doing something he wasn't supposed to, made his heart beat a little faster. What Albert said only made it beat even faster.

He smiles and nods, pulling away--with no small amount of remorse that even had to--and pulled Albert up with him by interlaced hands. "This way, I know a short cut."

He led his partner through part of the park and to a different train that seemed like a longer ride but let them out closer to his apartment. That dumb little contented smile hadn't left his face since it had made it's home there and he found he couldn't help sitting a little closer than he maybe should whenever he could.

As he unlocked his door and let the older cyborg in, the weak warmth offered by his less than stellar central heating system a welcome change from the biting chill outside, it finally occurred to him that he'd have to talk to Cathy again before she found out there was another man in Jet's apartment lest she say anything to Albert Jet didn't want him finding out. He 'd likely get some sharp words from the woman about letting him in to begin with, but if he could just find the words to explain how happy Albert made him, how he felt like his heart had sprouted wings and flown off ever since the words 'I'm in' had reached his ears, maybe she'd lay off a bit.

The teen leg the blond across the hall slip from his mind as he stepped back to the shorter man and pressed his lips gently against his lips.

Jet's happiness is infectious and by the time they get upstairs Albert can't quite wipe the smile from his own face either. It's one thing to know just what Jet means to him but seeing first hand how happy he makes the younger cyborg, how he smiles so brightly it puts the sun to shame simply because he's wedged their clasped hands in Albert's coat pocket on the train, it's a headier feeling than anything the German's ever experienced.

The second the door is closed they're joined at the lips even before Albert can remove his scarf and coat. He doesn't bother, instead bringing his hands up to cup each side of Jet's face and deepen the kiss, still gentle but more communicative. He wants to show Jet what Jet's spent time showing him this evening; that this really will work because they'll make it work.

The setting sun spills gold through the blinds as Albert breaks the kiss and leads Jet to the bedroom, shedding down to just his turtleneck, slacks, and socks on the way.

Jet followed suit, his outer layers falling to the ground as they went further into the apartment. Although there was no one else there or likely to be there, he closed the door behind them and shut the curtain that let in the light from the sun, switching to the artificial but controllable light of his side lamp.

The teen looked over to his partner as he sat on the edge, there was a little hesitation in his tone, but that comfort he'd shown from just being in Albert's presence hadn't gone away; it wasn't what they were about to do, it was something else, something he was embarrassed to admit for having been so gung-ho about it before.

"I should probably tell you...I don't actually know what I'm doing. I've only done this sort of thing twice and only one of those times was with a guy." And that had hardly been a good example, but Jet wasn't about to straight up lie when he could just skate over it instead. Especially since that had been part of why he'd been so pushy in the first place.

That had been a very bad experience with someone he'd barely even known, but it had been his first experience ever, not to mention with the gender he now knew he preferred. It had colored his judgement for years and it still weighed on the back of some of his actions in certain circumstances, though only he knew it was there. But now he was ready to push it out and replace it with what he knew would be a better experience with someone he cared for more than his own life. He also just didn't want to mess it up, which was why the disclaimer was needed.

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I know the basics, but don't stop yourself from telling me anything either." His mouth opened as though he were going to say something else, but he closed it again rather quickly, there was no way he was going to be able to say how he just wanted to make it good enough for Albert and how he was a little afraid in the face of his inexperience to fail at this and make the German change his mind all over again.

"I don't have much experience with men either," there's a self conscious tinge to his smile as he admits it. He stands in front of Jet and runs a gloved hand across his shoulder, trying not to sound nervous as he leans in for a kiss. "But I think we can figure out where everything goes."

He is though, nervous. He'd only experimented with a man once, and that had been before Hilda in an alcohol induced evening of compromised judgement. He'd come away from it satisfied, but curious at just how enjoyable it had been. Still, pursuing a relationship like that, at that time... well, it would have been incredibly dangerous. Not only that, but a few months later he'd met Hilda and put the entire thing from his mind. He'd fallen head over heels in love.

It's the same feeling now, both the utter surrender to overpowering affection and the confusing curiosity concerning exploring a physical relationship with someone of the same gender. But he should take the lead like this, he feels. Even if they're equally inexperienced in this, he wants to show Jet that he really is in it for good this time, that he wants the pursue the relationship and make it work, and sex is a part of that.

So he kisses Jet deeply, cradling the back of the other cyborg's head with his hand gently and gingerly placing one knee between Jet's legs so he has small purchase on the bed. He can't show that he's nervous, can't make Jet doubt his commitment again even if that's hardly what the nerves are over. He breaks the kiss but doesn't go far, panting a soft breath against Jet's lower lip. "I'll be gentle."

Jet gave a small nod, unwilling to tell Albert that he appreciated that, at least for this time; he wanted a new experience, something better and rough wouldn't be new. But that didn't mean he was against the possibility in the future, the difference then would be that it was Albert and Jet trusted him a lot more than he could say.

But he could show.

The teen pressed forward again, initiating another deep kiss, this time with his hands finding the sides of the German's face. He let it linger longer than he meant to before slowly breaking away. A small but slightly teasing smirk found it's way to his lips and he scooted further back onto the bed, his hand sliding down to tug at his partner's shirt in encouragement to follow.

The kiss leads Albert more than the tug at his shirt, the German almost overbalancing and simply falling on Jet. Thankfully, he keeps his balance and crawls up instead, sidling until he's nose to nose, holding himself up on his hands and knees over Jet. He takes a moment to trace Jet's face with his eyes, losing himself in the minutia of soft skin and every beautiful imperfection that marks Jet uniquely.

He catches himself staring and a bit of color rises in his face at the heels of a shy smile. He turns his attention a bit lower, one still-gloved hand sneaking beneath the hem of Jet's shirt, fingers splayed and palm flush against skin. Not wanting to remove that hand just after placing it, he tugs the glove off of his left hand with his teeth, intending to let it join the other. There's a moment of hesitation just before he lays the second hand on Jet's stomach and the frigid temperature of Albert's fingers likely clues Jet in to why that is a second later when he presses them to light flesh.

"Sorry," Albert murmurs, barely audible over the sounds of evening traffic outside, but he doesn't regret the touch. These fingertips have feeling and Jet's skin is warm and soft and perfect. Albert swallows, gently sliding his left hand up further, over ribs and muscle.

Albert's staring makes that edge of self-consciousness creep to the front and color Jet's face as well, but he returns the small smile. He could tell Albert was in some ways just as cautious and faltering as Jet, but he appreciated what his partner was trying to do.

The chilled hands on the warmer skin of his stomach sent a shiver through him and set his nerves on alert, making every small movement stand out. "Nah, don't worry about it...that feels nice."

Jet arched slightly into the touch and reached for the hem of his shirt to pull it off and get it out if the way.

"Even after outside?" He quirks an eyebrow, not quite believing that Jet enjoys the ice cold from his fingers but he doesn't say much more about it beyond that, instead moving his hands to help Jet shed his top.

There's another still moment where Albert drinks in each newly exposed inch. It's one thing to have seen Jet mostly undressed as Gilmore works on him, repairing or adjusting the cybernetics, but it's entirely different in this intimate context. This is Jet allowing him intimate knowledge of his body, of letting himself be vulnerable.

In some kind of mild awe, Albert runs his fingers along Jet's ribs again slowly, savoring the texture and subtle rise and fall of skin stretched over form. When he reaches the vent in the redhead's side, his hand moves inward, the pad of his thumb brushing coarsely over one nipple as Albert can hold back no longer and leans in for a more passionate kiss than before.

Albert taking his time was one thing, but the way he seemed to be studying Jet and the look on his face--something Jet is pretty sure he can't identify--it made his heart flutter and something else in him twist, not necessarily unpleasantly, but it wasn't what he would call good either. It was something he wasn't going to think about, either way.

But then Albert was touching him again and giving the American something else to concentrate on than the intense look on his partner's face. His body responds, arching into the touch and goosebumps crawling across his real skin as he kisses back enthusiastically.

His arms snaked around broad shoulders to pull Albert close and he deepened the kiss, tongue darting out to find it's way into Albert's mouth. Kissing he could do, kissing he knew what Albert liked, at least.

Jet's tongue is greeted with Albert's own and he inhales lightly, sucking on the invading tongue with aplomb. He loves the way Jet kisses, the way the younger man puts his whole self into it, exploring and tasting and working his hands and arms around Albert's body, pulling him in, letting him know unequivocally that he's wanted. Every little shift of the man under him sends a thrill through Albert and his left hand roams, passing over his nipple again with a little playful pinch just to feel Jet shudder.

But there's something scratching a the back of his mind. Or a lot of somethings. Every insecurity he's ever had about sex comes creeping to the forefont, every doubt that he doesn't know what he's doing, doesn't remember what to do, that he'll treat Jet too much like a woman because that's where the majority of his experience lies but is there even a difference there aside from the lack of breasts and where things go during the deed itself? And concerning that, is he supposed to be inside? Or is Jet? Which would Jet prefer more? Shouldn't he just know this already? Should it be instinct? he should just ask but what if he asks and it turns out he was supposed to know already and Jet changes his mind, throwing him out in the hall and locking the door behind him?!

Alright, so maybe that's an overreaction, but the worry over it becomes too great and be pulls from the kiss with a small but shuddering gasp, panting lightly against Jet's lips. "Jet, I..."

He turns red, not making eye contact and instead hiding his gaze in his hair. "I'm ...not sure how you want it."

Jet looked at the older man with confusion. "How I want--?" Oh.

His face burns bright red in response and he finds his thoughts have suddenly scattered as though none of them wanted the spotlight shined on them when he went looking for an answer.

He hadn't thought about it, he'd just sort of assumed it would happen and it wouldn't be a big deal. Now he actually had to try and string together not only what he wanted but the words to do it too.

"Um..." He knew how it was before and, in this case, with Albert, he really wouldn't be against that again, it sort of went back to that whole 'new experience to replace the old' thing. But, honestly, the thought of being the one on top, making Albert squirm and let go like that...well, that was a nice thought too.

But, then again, when did Albert ever 'let go?' The guy was too much of a control freak, Jet would be surprised he'd even asked if it weren't for the fact that was a very Albert thing to do; his concern was always the people around him.

It started with a smirk that turned into a smile until a low chuckle shook his shoulders even as his face stayed it's bright fiery color.

He'd thought they had an understanding after both admitting this was virtually new but the laughter turns Albert a deeper shade and he sits up, moving back so he's kneeling on the bed with a completely unsure and somewhat self conscious expression.

Though, well... it is some kind of ridiculous and Jet's laughter is infectious. Bringing a hand to his face, he can't help but let an embarrassed and depreciative chuckle of his own escape.

The laughter is short lived as he doesn't want Albert to get the wrong idea, but the smile remains even after he's quiet again.

The teen moved closer to his somewhat retreated partner and grabbed him by the shirt collar to pull him in for another enthusiastic kiss. When he breaks away, his face is still colored, but he tries to cover it with that smirk.

"This is fine. You on--um..on top, I mean. Just as long as I can see you." And touch you. "Besides...aren't you the kind of guy who likes to be in charge all the time? Wouldn't want to throw you off." They could figure things out later, maybe switch things around on occasion. Right now, he wanted things simple.

Kissing. Kissing is good. They know where they are with that. And then Jet's answering and Albert's flooded with relief that he hadn't ruined the moment by asking. He brings his still glove-clad right hand up to brush Jet's bangs from his face with all due affection. "I like to think I know when to let go of the reins, but if that's what you want..."

If that's what Jet wants then he'll provide. He runs his fingers through that feathery hair again and leans in for another kiss, this time letting both hands wander and find the top of Jet's pants at the back, left hand slipping between waist and hem to palm along soft skin and grab a little squeeze as his other arm circles Jet's lower back to press them flush together. All through this, Albert never once breaks the kiss. He knows he's being fairly aggressive and if Jet seems at all uncomfortable he'll back off, but hearing Jet wants him on top, wants him inside... well, he'd be lying if he said it didn't excite him.

The instant response sends a few nervous ribbons flying and he focuses back on responding to Albert's actions. Whereas the touch to his face had been affectionate and gentle, this was aggressive and lustful and it was turning Jet on like nothing else.

As soon as those arms are around him, his arms are around Albert, one of his hands pressing against his back as if he could drive away the nonexistent distance between them, while the other slid into soft silver hair, alternating between petting and gripping only tight enough to be noticed.

That probing hand, however, pulls a sound from him and he breaks the kiss with a hiss, though his lips don't stray far before falling on the German's jaw and neck, anything he can find.

This is different. They'd done some intense kissing, but this was more physical and a lot further along than just making out and while there was still that anxious thrum in the back of his mind at the unknown of it all, it went hand-in-hand with a rush of excitement and anticipation.

Neck, oh God Jet went for his neck and Albert can't help the moan from deep in his throat, almost felt more than heard at the feeling of Jet's lips on his entirely too sensitive neck. It pulls a squirm out of him, a buck in his train of thought, and an unintentional squeeze of the hand on Jet's rear. It's much rougher than he'd intended but he'll be damned if it doesn't feel nice.

It would feel nicer without the pants in the way.

With another short squeeze, he pulls his hands back, somehow managing to arch his body away from Jet just enough to get at the fly of his jeans without bringing his throat away from the younger man's questing tongue and lips. He moans again, fumbling for the zipper without being able to see it since he's unwilling to pull away for even that much, a shiver shooting up his spine and setting his eyes very briefly rolling back in his head.

If Jet never leaves his neck alone, he could die happy.

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