orifice | Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us

“I want God to play in my bloodstream
the way sunlight amuses itself on the water.”

Elizabeth Gilbert

A man could feel damn near careless like this.

He likes it.

-

The weight against him is comforting, warm, not too heavy, all hard and soft edges with scars under his fingertips. He can feel Jack's mouth against his throat, kissing and nipping, creating a trail along his throat and shoulder. His own fingers dig in a bit, press against his back and Jack arches, returns it with his own hands bruising Isaac's hips where they are beneath his. It has always been a game of give as good as you get because in this way it is only fair.

He wants his mouth and leans down, presses lips to his jaw. It's a simple gesture, one that speaks his needs and Jack turns, kisses him vigorously against his lips, pushing him down. It's like falling, Isaac surmises as he parts his lips (he's gotten better at this). It's like the most frightening free fall into the atmosphere where all you can do is burn up under your skin and choke. This, however, seems far more pleasant than any sort of tumbling around in space.

They never know how quite to go further. Hips rub and bump and sometimes they get brave and hands seek out every avenue, roving over warm skin. He'll stop at the small of Jack's spine, let his fingers stray. The hand that traces the lines of his RIG doesn't help, makes him arch a bit and twist slightly too.

-

"Sensitive?" Jack asks into his ear.

He makes a noise of affirmation. It's damn sensitive

-

It's a warm, early morning and Jack is gone from the bed, having replaced himself with a well-planted pillow on Isaac's chest. He slowly removes it, eyes looking around in a bleary sort of way. The faint, white light is sliding through the drawn curtains (Jack's doing, no doubt, to keep him sleeping--rough night). As he lays there, an arm draped to the side, he wonders alongside the soft noise of water and a drain.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

It's a slow motion, but he manages getting up, pulls himself from the covers and drags his feet a bit until he reaches the bathroom. Jack won't mind if he needs to go--he's in the shower after a--

Isaac stops.

It's an oddly vulnerable moment, maybe. That's what's got his heart racing. They trust each other, he knows this. An indelible trust that makes his heart hold tight and fast to its beats, limiting them because it travels up his throat and stays there, resting against his tongue, squirming up into his mouth. Jack is strangely captivating this way, in a state that has rendered him vulnerable.

They have come a long way.

It is a way through tears and screams and fingers clawing for dear life. It is beyond nightmares and fits unimaginable and "Would you kindly?" and "Make us whole." Isaac wonders if now he can understand the true meaning of whole.

Not in Convergence.

But Love.

He is quiet in his steps, shutting the door behind him with care. His eyes never quite leave the turned expanse of back, the way it twists downwards over muscle and skin. Isaac's tongue darts out to wet his lips, but it hardly helps, his mouth has gone dry. It's a slow and agonizing series of actions, even if it is just hooking his thumbs into his boxer briefs and sliding them down over his hips. Even if it is just opening the sliding glass door and feeling the first drops of water on his chest.

Jack is not a fool and he is not unaware.

Isaac knows this because as soon as he shuts the door Jack's fingers stop at the bend of his own neck and shoulder, hair slicked back and wet.

-

It's sharp and hot and wet. Isaac slams him up against the smooth tile of the shower, his back taking on the brunt of the water. It sluices over his shoulders and along his head and Jack looks on, lips parted and hands poised, for what, Isaac is not sure. It's hardly defensive--merely... confused.

So he clears it up.

Nothing to be confused about.

He only kisses him.

-

Isaac tells him, in earnest, that he's been... doing some reading.

Jack looks skeptical, legs braced and spread with his cheek to the cold wet tile and his cock palmed in Isaac's hand comfortably. So far, it's been pretty good, but he's unsure. The last time? The last time wasn't so great. But they've... they've had time, haven't they?

He pushes his hips back slightly, where Isaac's fingers draw along the cleft of his ass and press just slightly, wet and slick with something else. Jack wants to laugh because of course, goddamn house built on bricks of embarrassment and convenience in the most awkward of ways. Of course there'd be lube.

"Will you let me?"

Jack's fingers curl into his palm and Isaac kisses the shell of his ear with wet lips.

"Well?"

Jack closes his eyes and hums. "Go on."

So Isaac, with a finger of precision and clearly of... some sort of dexterity beyond last time, presses in. It is slow and it is... warm and wet and Jack's lower back tingles just slightly and his lips catches between his teeth and oh nonexistent gods from somewhere it feels strange and fills him just slightly.

Isaac's finger takes its time before crooking upwards, forwards, a soft this way motion inside him with his lips pressed to his throat and for once Jack has to commend him on his reading, strange as it is. He's done good.

-

The preparation itself is agonizing, not so much in a horrifying way as it is a goddamn it fuck me now way. Isaac takes his time, second finger, pressing in his third, always beckoning in that same motion before Jack jerks backwards with a swear as he keeps him braced to the wall.

"Shit--"

Isaac bites down on his throat, a fond press of teeth and tongue.

"Fuck--!"

His cock is pressed hard between his belly and the tile, and it's cold but hot and good and Jack feels a fever under his wet, hot skin, trying to escape out his pores like an essence. Isaac is a body and a man and everything over him, muscle trembling. He can feel his being, an entire pulse behind him, pressed against the curve of his back.

-

Isaac presses in with his cock, hands now on his hips, keeping him steady as he sinks from tip to mid-shaft. The sensation of being resisted before being pulled in destroys him, brings his hips to stop suddenly. He has to stop, has to wait a moment, has to catch the breath in the back of his throat, stilled in fisted up lungs as he closes his eyes. The water beats against the nape of his neck, slides along the the sensitive flesh down his RIG.

He starts, a soft thrust inwards and Jack underneath him jerks forward with a slight noise--a choked out moan that he bites his lip at. He thrusts again, a smooth roll of his hips, and in turn, Jack hesitantly presses back to meet him, sighing softly.

Good.

This is... this is good... oh fuck...

"Goddam--" Isaac says against his skin, fingers digging into Jack's hips, thumbs pressed to the small of his back.

-

They move like this, a gradual exploration of speed and beat until there is a comfortable rhythm dictated by the patter of the water to the ground and the sound of skin on skin, a slick sound between them.

It takes all of his sense and all of his strength for Jack to pull his hand from the wall, for his fingers to uncurl and Isaac presses up against the dark and sweet spot inside of him that sends his belly warm and makes his cock ache. But he does it, he pulls his hand back and reaches behind himself, Isaac's face in his throat, kissing his pulse. Jack breathes in. Breathes out.

"Ah--"

Jack pulls at Isaac's thigh, pressed up against him, tense and firm and muscled and he holds them there. Isaac is pressed to the hilt inside of him, and Jack can feel how he shakes with anticipation, how his breath comes out hard through his nose. He makes him hold, forces him to remain still, blunt nails digging into his skin, leaving soft depressions into his skin. Jack arches, Isaac moving forward to keep their bodies in contact, leaving open-mouthed, hungry kisses along his skin before lifting his lips up to his ear.

"I'm--" Isaac murmurs into his skin, but moans aloud against him, a low thrum as their pulses quicken in an uneven cant.

When he pulls out, a slow and aching motion, Jack jerks, coming against the wall, a hot surge of pleasure washing through him from head to heel. Isaac's cock is pressed against his ass and he feels it, white-hot against his lower back. It slides down his skin, against the water, and he slumps back. His entire body gives in a way it normally doesn't--heavy and exhausted, belly drawn tight and thighs trembling and Isaac moves to turn him around, leaning chest to chest, feet fumbling.

He nearly trips into him and Isaac laughs, full and dark like good whiskey going down, no burn, just taste.

-

Isaac is most dead to the world as he sleeps, hair wet and nose pressing against the hollow of Jack's throat. He keeps his hand against the side of Isaac's neck, strokes lightly as they tangle, legs and knees and arms thrown haphazardly around one another. He closes his eyes and dreams of milky-colored stars and purple and yellow nebulas he's never seen before--Isaac dreams that he floats in a sea on his back, letting the lull of the waves draw him in to the thrum of Jack's heart.