i want to taste you again
Jack is no stranger to pain or to breathing through it, but his time - nearly a year already as she's pointed out - with The Ark in her current shape has taught him trust in a way he's never experienced it before, such that the half-formed thought in her mind already has his good hand slipping around her like he can buy a little time with touch alone. "Love--" It isn't that he doesn't know it's necessary and more that he'd quite like to have a fraction more warning, but before the remark has fully left his lips her mouth is on his own and the world goes white with agony.
Flinching hard against her hand and grunting his objection against her kiss, both hands (despite how one is mostly useless and screams at being used for anything other than decoration) immediately grip the edge of the desk. It's for safety, though even Jack doesn't properly realise it yet; his magic responds to things without his permission in a number of ways, from pleasure to anger to shock and surprise, but pain beyond a certain threshold brings forth the most volatile of the elements in his blood, and the wood under his fingers starts to smoke.
He stifles it as soon as he's able, ice lashing through the singed surface, and though some part of him can feel the pain ebbing away from his side in some ways, the rest of him is too wrung out to notice why just yet. "You're not," he hisses in the fraction of space she's opened between them, leaning in to close it a second time immediately despite his lips being one of the only clean parts of his face.
Flinching hard against her hand and grunting his objection against her kiss, both hands (despite how one is mostly useless and screams at being used for anything other than decoration) immediately grip the edge of the desk. It's for safety, though even Jack doesn't properly realise it yet; his magic responds to things without his permission in a number of ways, from pleasure to anger to shock and surprise, but pain beyond a certain threshold brings forth the most volatile of the elements in his blood, and the wood under his fingers starts to smoke.
He stifles it as soon as he's able, ice lashing through the singed surface, and though some part of him can feel the pain ebbing away from his side in some ways, the rest of him is too wrung out to notice why just yet. "You're not," he hisses in the fraction of space she's opened between them, leaning in to close it a second time immediately despite his lips being one of the only clean parts of his face.
like a secret or a sin
JACK
- Secret Telepath
- Functionally Immortal (Forever 35)
- Two small star tattoos beneath his left eye
- Click for The Ark!
