Reverse Jake: > Pounce boyfriend.

[fightingcargos]

[You never thought you would be the kind of fella who would stand idly by while someone beat the crap out of your heart's darling. Turns out, you're not! You're the kind of fella who beats the crap out of said darling himself.]

[You leap into Dirk's personal space, guns ablaze, and attempt to make up for his superior speed with your superior firepower.]

Take THAT you studmuffin!!

Comments

[sickheartbeats]

Shut up and kiss me, douchekettle.

[fightingcargos]

[Hearing that in his voice give you a little shiver, but you focus on the task at hand. Your truest love just asked you to kiss him, and you will damn well deliver to the best of your ability!]

[You bring your mouth to his, sliding your lips together in a way that you hope feels at least half as good to him as it does to you.]

[sickheartbeats]

[Judging by the almost relieved little sigh you provide him with, your frethappy boyfriend has nothing to worry about. You slide your fingers through his hair in a manner that is slightly more friendly than before, but your leg still flexes against his on occasion, an equally friendly reminder.]

[fightingcargos]

[With every nudge of his thigh on yours, you pull back the slightest bit from the kiss, flexing your toes in an attempt to keep blood flow going to your extremities instead of where it is currently pooling. Maybe if he excused you for a bit of cardio, or a bit of privacy, you could continue treating him with the gentlemanly conduct he deserves. As it is, you just continue to hope you don't move things a little too fast and furiously.]

[The idea that he couldn't take it doesn't cross your mind. You are the one who couldn't take it, probably.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You catch your less-than-level breath against the corner of his mouth before your fingers move along his jaw, tilt it to your liking, and your mouth slides across the hollow dip below his ear. You're blissfully aware of him and the fact that this goes a bit beyond necking, and pleased with the fact that you personally aren't freaked out.

You'll consult his open book of a face about the matter as soon as you've worked over the reddening spot under your teeth, too.]

[fightingcargos]

Oh, smeg.

[sickheartbeats]

[You nuzzle his hair out of the way with your nose and drag the flat of your tongue up behind his ear, warm and damp breath included, feeling your stomach clench at his vocalization.]

[fightingcargos]

[Your hand squeezes his again, your palm grows damp on his hip, and you attempt just hanging on instead of actively participating, for a moment.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You sense his passiveness as immediately as he switches, but finish grazing at the outer shell of his ear before a proper damage assessment.]

Jake.

[fightingcargos]

Howdy.

[sickheartbeats]

Need a breather?

[fightingcargos]

...Yes?
Or a sitdown.
Have i told you lately how good you are at this?

[sickheartbeats]

Not in the past twelve hours.
Come on, I know a couch with our names on it.

[You deliver a kiss to his overheated cheek and navigate him away from the wall.]

[fightingcargos]

[You follow him to the couch, hands still roaming his back and arms. He is too much fun to touch, so you don't stop during your relocation. Why would you? He would tell you if you were tickling him, surely.]

[You collapse onto the couch first, looking up at him with a truly goofy smile.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You crawl across him in a flawless impersonation of a human blanket, find a way to settle that spares his hips, and then you're but a heavy unmoving weight, allowing him to gain his bearings or keep fondling you, whatever's forefront on his mind.]

[fightingcargos]

[Your brain shorts out for a moment, and you put your hands on his thighs to steady him without thinking. You yank them back above the beltline as if you've been burned.]

Haha wow sorry about that.

[sickheartbeats]

Too hot for you to handle?
What's up with that, English.

[Okay, so you're egging him on a little. He needs to stop freaking out all the time.]

[fightingcargos]

I beg your pardon.
Ive handled some pretty extreme temperatures and you know it!

[sickheartbeats]

My turn to beg yours.
How many of them have compared to me, now?

[fightingcargos]

Damn it dirk your head is as big as the fires ive totally felled.
I am more than capable of taking whatever you dish out!! Its a two way equality street here and i am a regular snowman in my coolness.

[sickheartbeats]

What a relief.

[You underline the point you're making by tangling your legs, stretching them along his, and suddenly his hip area isn't so safe anymore, danger zone, smartass boyfriend incoming.]

[fightingcargos]

Thats RIGHT.
So just hang on while i continue blowing your gourd.

Jake: > Kiss him.

[You DO. You even bite him a little, because he, as previously established, SOMETIMES HAS IT COMING.]

[sickheartbeats]

[You laugh again, though this time with decidedly less self-satisfaction, and it's muffled by the kiss and you're more than happy to pick up where you left off. Your mouth moves over his, coaxing smooth friction from his lips until he bites you and you accept that very gracefully and in full knowledge that you deserve it.]

[fightingcargos]

[You can handle his fire no problemo. You can handle his SICKEST OF FIRES, even. You will show him what is what with regard to his fires and your ability to weather them!]

[You bring a hand to his behind and give it a firm squeeze.]

[sickheartbeats]

[Your amusement falters in the way where you're about to complain before noticing that, in fact, you're enjoying what he's doing, so why be all coyness and pretend. Instead, you arch, closing your eyes for a moment of reveling, both of which you don't allow yourself to do nearly enough.]