#hands on learner

[jackson-phillips-blog]

Hands on Learner || Jackson and Mishka

Tagging: Jackson Phillips and Anton Mishka Morozov Setting: Jackson’s apartment, evening/night of April 7th Summary: Mishka skips out on work to spend time with Jackson. Pizza, Netflix, and making good on all their flirting. Warnings: NSFW

The look he got from Beckie would’ve been hilarious if he wasn’t so damn eager to get out of the shop as fast as he could. He was thorough when it came to locking up the bookstore for the night, but he was in a bit of a rush today. Thankfully, Beckie understood the reasoning for it. Well, it wasn’t that hard to understand since the two of them had been working alongside each other for the past two years. All it took was for them to make eye contact and she knew. He sent her a silent word of gratitude as he got all of his stuff, which only consisted of his wallet and jacket, before he was out of the door and next to Jackson again. There was a wide smile on his face, and he was almost sure that it’d stay there whenever he was around this man, as he draped his jacket over his shoulder. “So where to, Houdini?”

Jackson couldn’t deny that he was excited. Excited and maybe way more nervous than he could bother to show. There was also a pang of guilt mixed in there somewhere over the fact that he’d gotten Mishka to call out of work, but that was easy enough to ignore given everything else. When the time came close to closing, he’d paid for his books and done his best to avoid the questioning looks from the girl behind the counter. He’d spent his entire time there following Mishka around and he’d have been hard pressed to come up with a reason that didn’t sound as fake as it would be. Slipping outside, he’d been tempted to wander over to the coffee shop again, but didn’t want to chance missing when the other man finally came outside.

Jakson rolled his eyes a little at Miskha’s question, doing his best to steel himself for this. It wasn’t that he didn’t want it, he did. He so fucking did. But the fact that he was leading some guy he’d just met back to his place for sex still weighed on him because that just wasn’t him. “This way,” he said as he turned on the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment building. “I’m only about six blocks from here, if you don’t mind walkin’? I walk everywhere I can.”

The roll of eyes just made him grin more, but he pipped down on his nicknames for the time being. Anton fell into step easily, but when he heard the distance they needed to cover he merely shrugged. “It’s fine, I usually drive but I took marta today so I would’ve had to walk anyways.” He wouldn’t have to walk that far, but six blocks wouldn’t kill him. Plus, the distances between each block weren’t incredibly lengthy either. “One of the good things about Atlanta is that you can do that without needing to pack for a damn hike.” It wasn’t like Saint Louis where he had to do that a few times before, but that was neither here nor there.

Jackson nodded a bit in relief when Mishka agreed to the walk. The mention of a hike grabbed his attention though because he’d definitely enjoyed doing that when the locale allowed for it. “I take it you aren’t a fan of hiking?” he asked, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. He reached for it and slid the screen to check the message. Confirmation for the pizza he’d ordered as he’d waited. The other guy had mentioned it earlier so he’d ran with it. Tucking the phone back into his pocket, he looked over at Mishka. “You know, you never told me where you’re even from,” Jackson said when the realization hit him out of nowhere. Blurting random thoughts out. Way to go, buddy.

“What? Nah, I like hiking enough. It’s a good way to get a change of scenery when you get sick of the cityscape. I’m more of a swimmer than a hiker or runner though.” And he has the build to show it too. Anton looked over in mild surprise, and if it seemed like he got a little uncomfortable he chose to ignore it. “I was born in Russia, but I moved here and lived in Saint Louis until two years ago. Now I’m here in ATL groveling my days away. What about you?” He kept his answer as short as he could, and he hoped he wouldn’t get asked about the reasons why he had moved from one place to another. Even if Jackson did ask he couldn't blame the guy for it, and he should honestly be used to it by now. Yet he wasn’t. Not completely at least.

Jackson couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted down over Mishka’s body at the mention of being a swimmer. Those always had a certain build and while it wasn’t big and visibly muscular as himself, there was power there. And that was definitely a draw for him, almost as much as the fact that the other man was his same height give or take an inch or two. He usually ended up with someone much smaller and while that could be fun in and of itself, there was definitely something to be said for someone that could match him. “Znachit, vy tozhe govorite po-russki?” he asked, the words rolling off his tongue with a practiced accent. Jackson was feeling a little more confident in showing off given how Mishka had responded to the ‘hidden talents’. “I grew up a few hours south of here, but I’ve moved all over because of the military.”

That shouldn't have been that sexy to hear, but here he was all ready to urge Jackson to walk faster so they could be alone. It’s been a good minute since he’s spoken in his native tongue so he had to think back on what it was that he wanted to say. “YA by ne byl russkim, yesli by ne mog,” he said with the same smile on his face but it wasn’t as bold as before. It wasn’t overly noticeable, but he looked away a second after. “Oh, so you’re a native to Georgia then? I’ve heard about the trails up North, and the apple picking shit. Have you ever been?”

Jackson laughed lightly at the reply, being bold enough to lean over a bit to bump into Mishka’s shoulder. “Fair enough,” he replied, not wanting to show off further for the moment. He kept an eye on the buildings as they passed calculating that they were about halfway to his place. The realization caused nerves to threaten in the bottom of his stomach, but he pushed the feeling down, refusing to let it get the best of him. “I am, but I’ve never been up there. Much closer to Florida. I don’t think I ever actually even made it up here to Atlanta except for once on a field trip or somethin’.” Jackson shifted the bag containing his books from one hand to the other as he glanced over at Mishka again, having trouble keeping his eyes off the other man. “Surprised my accent didn’t give me away,” he tried to laugh.

The odd touch to his smile faded away when he was bumped into. “Accent? I mean, I wouldn’t know what a Floridian accent would sound like.” He might’ve practically grown up in America, but the different accents within the states were still a bit hard for him to pinpoint. Anton was relaxed, probably a lot more than Jackson was, but he pretended to not notice. “I’m surprised that you haven’t asked where my ‘Russian accent’ is. It’s usually the first thing people ask when they find out I’m from mother Russia.” The last two words were said in an overly thick drawl as he schooled a serious expression. That lasted for another few seconds before he melted back into an easy smile.

“Well, considerin’ that I spent over a year learnin’ it and even more time listenin’ in, I’m used to all kinds of accents, comrade,” Jackson shot back, a bit of teasing in his voice. His own accent was easier to hide once he’d started to pick up other languages, but it still managed to creep into his speech, especially if he was drunk or pissed or tired. He realized after a moment, he’d stopped paying attention to their course and he reached out, grabbing Miskha’s arm to stop him. “We are passin’ my building,” he said with a laugh. Clearly it wasn’t hard to distract him lately. Phones, cute boys. Jackson looked down at his hand before pulling it back with an awkward laugh. “Sorry, just didn’t wanna have to backtrack.” He turned them to the left and lead the other guy up to the building, unlocking the door for them.

The mix of accents threw him for a loop or two, but he was thoroughly enjoying it. “Well, I’m still just as impressed as before and if I’m allowed to be completely honest- it’s really hot.” He grew sly with his words, but fell short when he was stopped. Anton looked around and committed their surroundings to memory just in case he would need it for future reference. Just in case, right. He almost reached out to stop Jackson from dropping contact, but he realized how desperate that might seem. He was needy but he wasn’t that bad. “Don’t need to apologize,” he said happily as he trailed after Jackson again.

They were close to his apartment, but still not inside the safety of the four walls so Jackson was still on fairly high alert. He was trying, he really was, but old habits were hard to break. Mishka seemed to be making it easier to forget about his worries though, for a few minutes at a time anyways. He pushed the door open and lead them inside, moving towards the elevator to save the other man the four floor climb up the stairs. “I should warn you,” he said, looking over as the doors slid open and he stepped inside. “My place isn’t...big or fancy or anythin’.” Nerves were rising with a vengeance the closer they got to being behind closed doors but he was trying so hard to cling to that boldness that seemed to spike some in Mishka’s presence.

“It’s all good. If you had like some suite or something I think you’d have to help me pick my jaw off the floor,” he joked lightly as he stepped into the elevator. The area wasn’t that bad so far, but then again it wasn’t like they were in the shitty parts of downtown like he was. Well, no, that was an exaggeration since he was on the borderline of the good and bad there.

Jackson laughed lightly at Mishka’s response, but the sound didn’t quite convey humor as his nerves crept into it. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford something like what the other man was talking about, but it just seemed...wasteful to him. Growing up poor had instilled certain tendencies in him and even now that he had the money, he still couldn’t bring himself to spend it. Especially considering his place wasn’t somewhere he spent much time. The elevator dinged a moment later and he was stepping off even before the doors opened fully. The move may have made him seem eager, but it was nerves driving Jackson as he made his way to his apartment. “At the risk of sounding crazy, can you--uh...take your shoes off when you come in?” he asked as he unlocked the door and pushed it open for Mishka. It was small and weird and stupid, but shoes in his place bugged the fuck out of him, it always had.

He was curious to see what Jackson’s place looked like. Surely it wasn’t as bad as he was making it out to be? Guess he would find out soon enough. Anton walked behind the other and quirked an eyebrow in a silent question but he just shrugged. “Yeah, sure. You want me to stop there though?” Alright, he knew that he should probably stop the slew of flirting but he couldn’t help it. Once he stepped inside he toed off his shoes and bent down to pick them up. “Anywhere you want me to put them specifically?” He wasn’t trying to poke fun at the request, and he hoped he conveyed that by his expression as he stood there for instructions.

Jackson bit his lip hard at Mishka’s insinuation, trying not to let his mind wander to where it was so obviously being directed. But they were inside his apartment now and he pushed the door closed to make that more tangible. Alone, just the two of him. There was a bit of a struggle inside him at the thought, a part of him wanting to just do what he’d been feeling and the other part still choked with nerves. “Make yourself at home,” he answered, willing to leave it at that. His own shoes were toed off and nudged in line along the opposite wall with the rest of his shoes and he nodded his head towards the other end of them. “Over there is fine. Sorry if I sound crazy. It’s just a thing.”

He waited patiently and followed after Jackson. His shoes were put next to the other’s and he’d admit that it was a bit weird, but there wasn’t any harm being done. With that out of the way he turned his attention to the space before him. “It’s honestly not as bad as you made it out to be,” he mused as he looked around. It was minimalistic at best and there didn't seem to be anything out of place or extra. “You know.. It’s kinda weird that my place is almost like this except for a few things.” His own apartment was tidy and he didn’t have too many belongings. Nothing more than he needed at least. Anton went over to the couch and plopped down. A soft noise left him as he rested his arm on the side of the couch. “Definitely see why you were so relaxed with Netflixing earlier,” he said with a loose grin as he leaned back into the furniture.

It seemed Mishka took his words to heart and Jackson watched as he settled down on the couch, trying not to notice that little noise so much. The more they learned about one another, the more they seemed to have in common which was...odd. He was used to being the weird one, the guy that everyone just kind of tolerated. Even his ‘relationships’ had been based less on mutual interests and more...well. It wasn’t on things like similar tastes in books and coffee and things like that. He shifted into the living room, dropping his bag of books and grabbed the remotes from the coffee table, holding them out in offer to Mishka. “I’m not here too much, honestly. But yeah, now you see what I gave up to bring you coffee?” His words were teasing of course, but maybe he wanted to drop the hint that he’d done so because he’d been eager to see the other man again too. “Do you want something to drink?”

He was making himself quite comfortable with where he was at. Anton tucked his legs up as he curled in against the corner. For a man with his height it was comical to see him fold in on himself like this since his limbs weren’t short oro average sized. “I really do,” he said as he took the remotes from Jackson. It took a bit of fiddling but he got the TV turned on and started to flip through Netflix. He wasn’t looking at what sort of things Jackson had been watching. Not at all. Anton sported a crooked smile and looked back over. “What ever can I do to make it up to you? That coffee saved my ass, but the only thing I’d like to drink a tall glass of you,” he said with just the same amount of confidence as before.

Jackson couldn’t help but smile at the way Mishka curled up on the couch, the movements oddly...endearing and served to make him look smaller and almost harmless. Not that he was fooled by that for a second though. After the remotes were handed over, he’d started to move towards the kitchen, ready to grab whatever was requested but the response had him stopping in his tracks. His face didn’t flush this time, at least not noticeably, but he shook his head as he turned back into the living room. “Don’t be so sure it’s safe,” he said, his voice low as he bent down from behind the couch to bring his mouth close to the other man’s ear. In the next moment though, Jackson had straightened back up and turned back to the kitchen. “And while that’s cute, I’m tryin’ to be a good host and all that.”

He was about to look back at the screen, but he stopped short when he suddenly felt Jackson’s presence right by the side of his face. Oh shit. Anton automatically swallowed dryly just from the dip in the other’s voice. It was just a slight peek into whatever it was that Jackson was hiding, but boy did that make things even better. The lopsided smile remained on his face as he finally stared at the TV before him. “Cute? And here I was thinking that I was being clever. Water’s fine, but I’m not taking back what I said before.” Maybe he’d regret saying that, but he was willing to take that chance anyways.

“I wouldn’t expect you to take it back,” Jackson replied easily as he shifted into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from his refrigerator. He snagged one for himself after a moment before moving back into the living room, glancing at the screen for a moment to see what Mishka was up to. His nerves were settling, slowly and he looked back at the man on his couch as he held out the bottle. For a moment he was struck by how Mishka looked just like he belonged right there, comfortable and curled up on his couch while browsing Netflix. But Jackson shook his head to dislodge the thought. Talk about crazy. “Find anything interestin’ yet?” he asked with a smile. Before Mishka could respond though, there was a knock at his door and even though he’d been expecting it, he still tensed a little. “Be right back.”

Oh, so he was a lot more cheeky than he had let on originally. That was definitely something he could get on with. Anton kept browsing until he came across a show he hadn’t touched on in a while. With his interest caught he leaned forward a bit and squinted his eyes. Damn contacts were starting to dry up again and it irritated the hell out of him. “Uh huh,” he said absently as he rubbed his eyes for a moment. When he was done itching his eyes he blinked a few times and looked over. He took the bottle and was about to say thanks, but was cut off by the sudden knock. Unless Jackson was expecting some other company he was almost sure that it was the pizza delivery.

Jackson snagged some cash from his wallet on the way to the door and tugged it open just enough for the transaction to take place, making sure to keep himself situated so that Mishka couldn’t be seen on his couch. It was stupid, yes, but he was so almost conditioned to be secretive at this point in his life that it wasn’t even a voluntary thing. He made his way back into the living room, pizza in hand and sat the box down on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I hope meatlovers is alright,” he said, not missing the irony of his words. “Do you need any ranch or anything?”

Food and sex was probably the top two things he valued in life. It wasn’t like he had anything else to concern himself over, like family for instance. Didn’t have them anymore so he just indulged himself in his two top not so guilty pleasures. By the time Jackson turned around and came back with the pizza he was all eyes and ears on the box. It was great that someone like Jackson was carrying it, but he was a whole lot more inclined on getting his grubby hands on a slice first. “Meatlovers is my favorite actually,” he said to the side as he rearranged how he sat. Anton reached over to open the lid and shook his head. “Nah, only thing I need is this right here.” A slice was taken, but he paused for a second as he just stared at the pizza. “Actually, I take that back, ranch would be great,” he said as he glanced at Jackson before he took a bite.

Jackson just watched the way Mishka seemed to come alive at the sight of the pizza box and he couldn’t help but laugh at the reactions. If he could find someone to look at him the way the other guy was staring at that slice, he’d be set for life. Another laugh and a shake of his head and he turned back for the kitchen. He poured the ranch into a bowl and grabbed a few napkins, placing them in front of Mishka on the table before moving to take a seat himself. “Is it good?” Jackson asked, arching a brow and looking over at the other man as he reached for his own slice.

Anton resumed his previous position as he ate. He was tucked away again and a content sigh left him as he tried not to inhale the first slice. Normally he would’ve been on top with his eating schedule, but, well, he had someone distract him today. Said distraction came back with the ranch and he beamed at Jackson over his mouthful. He hummed back in response as he worked his way onto the crust. When his hand was empty he untangled himself again and reached over for a second slice. This time he dunked the end of the pizza into the bowl and didn’t bother to curl up again. Anton just sat leaned forward with his elbows propped on his legs. He took a bite and felt some of the ranch smear onto the side of his lips, but he pretended to be more absorbed into the TV to notice. The first episode was put on play and he kept on eating, still very much aware of everything else around him.

Apparently food--or at the very least pizza--was a thing for Mishka and Jackson paused his own eating to watch the other man for a second. In an odd sort of way, he felt like the fact that Mishka was tearing into the pizza was a bit of a win or a point in his own favor. And Jackson could definitely use all of those he could get. He glanced over at the screen a few times as he ate but for the most part, his attention was focused on the other man on his couch. This was...comfortable and nice in an almost domestic sort of way. And honestly, it was a bit of a relief that Mishka hadn’t tried to jump him the minute they’d walked in the door. Not that it would have been horrible if that were the case, but just...Jackson wasn’t about those quick hookups and honestly, he felt like the other guy was worth more than a quick fuck, or even a long one. Jackson noticed the smear of ranch and opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. Instead, he reached over and swiped his finger over the streak of white, taking his time before drawing his hand away and pushing it into his mouth to suck it clean.

He was caught between a snort and a laugh from what showed on the TV, but the noise sort of died in his throat anyways when he felt the side of his mouth get touched. Anton was looking over in a heartbeat and God that wasn’t fair. He had enough sense in him to finish chewing so he could swallow, and when nothing was in his mouth he let his lips part slightly as he watched Jackson with narrowed eyes. “If I get ranch on some other part of my body would you do the same thing?” He asked out of pure curiosity and nothing else- he swore on it. The rest of his slice was forgotten as he kept his attention on Jackson even though his stomach was yelling at him to just cram the food into his mouth already.

Okay, so maybe Jackson didn’t need to suck his finger that long or in quite the way he did, but he couldn’t help but give Mishka a show, especially given how the other guy had been talking so much shit and practically molesting straws in his presence. The finger fell away and he chuckled light, offering only a smirk before he was biting down into his pizza to ensure Mishka had to wait that much longer for an answer. He was more relaxed now, more comfortable, and his guard was coming down to let some of his more natural self out. So far, the other guy had managed to make him feel like it might be okay if he did. “I think I’m capable of making enough of a mess of your body without the ranch,” Jackson replied, his smirk settling easily as he reached for his bottle of water.

He honestly couldn’t say it enough but holy fuck. All of this confidence and flirting was going to make him run for his money at this point. His mouth hung open a bit more and his pizza was completely forgotten for the time being. There was a feeling that he was either going to end up terribly frustrated or just wrecked, but it was invigorating nonetheless. “That so?” He asked, voice a little airy as he dragged himself out of it. Anton cleared his throat and looked away so he could take another bite from the slice in his hand. “Care to elaborate or?” He trailed off as he murmured around the mouthful, but he kept an eye on Jackson while he chewed.

Jackson’s smirk only grew at Mishka’s response and it only helped to bolster the little bit of boldness he was running on. It felt good, honestly, and it was a kind of good he hadn’t felt in...well, a very long time. He lifted one shoulder lightly in a half shrug and took a sip of his water. “I told you, I’m much more of a ‘hands-on’ kinda guy,” he commented before finishing off his slice of pizza. He leaned forward to reach for another, unable to stop a bit of smugness from creeping up at just how well he was handling this. Surely Mishka had just assumed he was some blushing and stuttering mess, but oh how that was so wrong. At least behind closed doors. That kind of attitude hadn’t served him well during military school and it definitely wasn’t the temperament that had pushed Jackson through the Marines. Hopefully Mishka could appreciate this real side of him just as much as he seemed to enjoy the shy idiot he was most of the time.

He actually had to take the time to close his eyes and almost pray for there to be a time and way for them to fuck. Don’t get him wrong, he loved how this was playing out. It totally blindsided him, but it was one of those really great surprise that he wouldn’t cash in for the world. Anton didn’t choke on his food by some miracle, and he was done with the second slice a few moments afterwards. “Uh huh. Seems to me that it’s more of a watch-me-and-hands-to-yourself’ sort of thing.” Was he complaining? Oh yeah, he was definitely getting to that whiny stage, but who could blame him? What Jackson executed since they had gotten inside was so well done. It’d be a fucking blessing if he didn’t pop a boner anytime soon.

Jackson rolled his eyes at Mishka’s words, hearing the complaint loud and clear. But he was feeling more and more in control of things as they went so he wasn’t going to let the other guy take it back that easily. He would have to fight him for it. Granted, that thought opened up so many other more interesting ones, but he pushed them away for the moment as he took a bite out of his pizza, a few bits of meat falling into his lap without his notice. “Patience, darlin’,” Jackson replied once he’d swallowed down the food. “I’ve gotcha all night, don’t I? Unless you’d rather go into work instead?”

He huffed as he reached for another slice and he ate that in lighthearted grumpiness. There hasn’t been a time where he was one for pet names or nicknames in general, but hearing Jackson call him darlin’ just added onto the unfairness level that was being played out right now. It made him frown and shoot the other man a look before he looked back ahead of him. “I already sat my fat ass down and got comfy. I’m not about to leave any time soon and deal with drunk assholes who’ll try to get me just as drunk and hungover again.” Well, he didn’t get hungover every single time he took a shift at the bar, but when things got busy he didn’t have the time to hydrate himself properly. “Plus, I like pouting and shit so unless you kick me out you’ll have to deal with it.”

Jackson’s brow arched at the mention of Mishka’s ass, but rather than comment, he took another bite and chewed slowly as the other guy continued to gripe. Sure he was complaining but it was  cute in a weird sort of way, especially when he admitted that he was pouting. It was a bit of a change from the demeanor Mishka had shown him before, but he damn sure wouldn’t complain. And he really had no room to given that he wasn’t exactly the mess he’d shown either. “I can deal with it. I promise,” Jackson said simply, tossing Mishka a look without bothering to explain his words further. Let him read it however he wanted. Another sip of water and he was finishing off the crust, debating on another slice as he picked up the bits of meat that had fallen onto his lap.

Anton just rose an eyebrow in response. There wasn’t a smile or a frown on his face now. His lips were in a neutral set, but he made sure to keep that bit in mind. He was already cracking his knuckles in his head since Jackson had said that he could deal with his grousing, and who was he to hold back on that? He kept his eyes trained on the show, but he was more preoccupied with what else he could complain about. In the midst of his thoughts he ate through his third slice and when he was empty handed again he sighed softly. After he wiped his hands with a napkin, Anton leaned back and draped his arms over the back of the couch. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes for a moment just to rest his retinas, and Jesus when did he get this tired? Oh, right, ever since he woke up this morning.

Jackson almost laughed at the sudden silent treatment Mishka was giving him but he didn’t. He didn’t point it out or draw attention to the fact, instead he took a few more sips from his bottle of water and pretended to train his eyes on the show that he absolutely had not been paying attention to. Once it was clear the other man seemed to be done, he shifted up from the couch and began to clear away their mess, knowing he would focus on it if he didn’t do it now. And he wanted to give Mishka his undivided attention. “You’ve not touched the drink I worked so hard on for you,” he said with a teasing smile, handing the bottle of water to the other guy once again before disappearing into the kitchen to deal with what was left of their meal.

Honest to God he was just resting his tired ass eyes, but he wasn’t that honest to begin with and he certainly didn’t believe in God. Anton cracked open an eye when he heard Jackson start to move. A soft hrmph left him as he took the bottle as the other left the couch. He leaned back up and opened the bottle so he could take a few gulps. The bottle was capped and put on the table while he rubbed his eyes again. Still not a word came out of him as he settled back into the couch again. He could keep this up all day and night. He’s done it before and it certainly didn’t seem like he was leaving anytime soon.

Jackson finished up in the kitchen and washed his hands before returning to the living room to find Mishka curled up on the couch again. Glancing over, he noticed the water missing from the bottle on the table and he smirked to himself, glad to see the other guy had done as he’d wanted. A light clicked off in the living room before he moved to settle back down on the couch, stretching out and getting a bit more comfortable than he had before. Jackson looked over at Mishka. “Are you actually watching this? Or can I find something else?”

He glanced over at Jackson when the other spoke up, and he really regretted doing that. The play of light from the TV and windows were fucking with him. That had to be it, because the way Jackson looked right now was way too inviting for his liking. Or well, his stubborn liking more like. Anton looked back at the screen and frowned again. He reached forward and over his legs to snag the remotes. He still didn’t say a word as he offered them out to the other with an eyebrow raised and a stubborn set to his jaw.

Jackson had hoped his question would get Mishka to speak but as the remotes were handed over, it was clear that wasn’t going to be the case. Oh, he was stubborn as fuck. But he admired the dedication. “Thank you,” he said with a smile, pretending as if nothing was out of the ordinary as he took the remotes and turned his attention to the screen. It took a few moments to find what he wanted, but finally Jackson clicked play and sat them down on a side table. Casually, his feet lifted up to rest on the coffee table and hands came up to cross behind his head as he settled in to watch the show. After a moment, he shifted around in the name of getting more comfortable and ignored the way the hem of his shirt rode up just enough to show a patch of skin and a hint of his toned stomach.

He wanted to grumble back but he just looked away again. This time he really did try to pay attention to whatever show it was that Jackson picked. It’d help him stay in line with this whole stubborn thing he had going on even though it was petty as hell. He was getting into the groove of the show before he noticed Jackson moving. It was a habit to just look at whatever moved around him, and now was no different. Except when he looked over and saw the expanse of skin that was washed over by the light from the TV he wanted to straight up bang his head on the table. Oh, what he would do to get his hands on that- much less his lips because he was about to salivate by just imagining what the rest of Jackson’s body looked like. After another second he tore his eyes away and went back to the screen again as he tried his hardest to keep his mind away from the other’s image.

Jackson was actually paying attention to the screen for the first few minutes of the show, perfectly content to let Mishka sulk in silence. Why exactly he was sulking, he couldn’t say, but he wasn’t going to interrupt it. Eventually, he leaned forward to grab his bottle of water from the coffee table and his shirt rode up even more, a good part of his back being bared for a few seconds until he leaned back. As he tipped the bottle up for a drink, he made the wise choice to try to glance over at Mishka. And water spilled down onto his shirt from the slight change in angle. “Fuck!” he exclaimed, the bottle finding a place on the end table as he looked down at his shirt. It just seemed to be Jackson’s day for spills. And he’d been doing so well. With a heavy sigh, he shifted up from the couch. “I’ll be right back,” he informed the other guy, not expecting a response as he moved around the back of the couch and tugged his shirt over his head.

He was getting back into the lull of the show when Jackson all but scared the shit out of him. Anton flinched from the curse and looked over with wide eyes. For a second he felt worry flare, but when he realized that it was just another spill accident he calmed down. Not enough for him to say anything though. Anton just leaned back into his side of the couch again but he couldn’t help but stare at Jackson when the guy all but took his shirt off. This time he let out a whisper of a groan as he tried to make himself watch the show again. That lasted for half a second before he was peeking over to where the other had gone. His head was already rested against the side of the couch so he just craned his neck a little bit more so he could watch Jackson change. That sounded really fucking creepy, but he was already ogling at the other anyways.

Jackson barely made it into his room, wet shirt in hand before he realized he was missing the show. Turning on his heel, he crossed back into the living room, his words almost dying on his tongue when he saw the way Mishka was craned around and staring at him. He managed to hold in the laugh, but the smirk lifted the corners of his lips. “Hey, can you pause it for me? I don’t wanna miss anything,” he said, trying to sound as casual as possible. Of course he could have easily skipped back when he settled back down, but where was the fun in that?

“Uh huh.” That was all he could really say at the moment. His mind was pulling a blank as he drank in the sight before him. No wonder Jackson did modeling on the side. The amount of detail on the other’s body were doing things to him and he had to actually slap himself mentally so he could stop staring like an idiot. Anton blindly groped for the remote but when he missed the second try he gave an irritated noise and looked over so he could grab the damn thing and press pause. He also has to shift his position a little bit more so he could easily rest his arm over his lap, because something was starting to rear up all thanks to Jackson’s tactics. More of a hands on guy my ass, he grumbled to himself as he looked away from the other again.

Jackson’s smirk grew wider at the almost grunted response, but hey, it counted as speaking in his book. A small victory, but he wanted a much bigger win than that. He waited until the screen paused and Mishka looked back at him, purposely loitering for effect. “Thanks,” he said, flashing the other man a bright grin before turning around and heading back into his room. He rummaged around in a drawer for a few moments before he pulled out a tank top and tugged it over his head. He considered changing his jeans out for something else too in order to be really comfortable but decided against it for the time being. Jackson headed back into the living room and stopped behind the couch again. “Do you need anythin’ while I’m up?” he asked, hands coming down to smooth over Miska’s shoulders as he spoke.

He was back to frowning again, but this time he had on a faint scowl. Usually he was the one throwing the shots, and even during the times where he wasn’t there wasn’t this much teasing involved. This was like some form of torture. He was sure of it. If he was an actual sleazy asshole he would’ve tried to do a lot more than pout, but he didn’t roll like that. Anton almost flinched again when he felt Jackson touch his goddamn shoulders. It wasn’t skin on skin contact, but this was the closest he’s gotten so far. You, was what he wanted to say but he kept his lips pressed into a thin line as he looked back. It was a bit of an odd stretch from the angle he was at, but completely ignored how his head bumped against one of the other’s forearm as he glowered at the man.

Jackson looked down when Mishka’s head tipped back to look at him and he waited patiently for a response, letting his hands move from the other man’s shoulders down over his collarbone and across his chest. But again, it was clear he wasn’t going to get a word out of him. That was fine then. His hands moved again, retracing their path backwards until he pulled them away. “I’ll take that as a no then,” he said with a light laugh as he withdrew completely, acting as if everything was completely normal. He crossed back around to the front of the couch and settled back into his spot. Glancing over, he spotted the remoted in Mishka’s hand and reached over into his lap to tug it free. “Thank you,” he hummed out, leaning back to his side of the couch slowly as he clicked play again.

This was at the top of the chain of being so goddamn unfair. He tried not to give into saying something snippy back like how the only thing he wanted while Jackson was up, which the man was not, was to get his ass back down on the couch so he can purge his mind with the TV show. The laugh just made him huff again, and he was just tempted to fall apart completely when the remote was taken from him. Sure, he could just remove his arm and spread his legs out. Not like there was a forming bulge in his jeans or anything. As if. Anton just ran a hand through his hair and didn’t give a fuck if it messed with how he had styled it this morning. Now it stuck up at random places but, hey, he was frustrated alright?

Jackson wasn’t stupid. He knew full and well what he was doing and that little huff just confirmed that he was doing it well. And the way Mishka kept his arms in his lap when he’d been stretched out before told him he was definitely on the right track. His eyes trained back on the screen but it wasn’t long before he was glancing back over and biting back a laugh at the ways the other man’s hair stuck up. “You alright, darlin’?” he asked, still sticking to the act that nothing was out of the ordinary. Rather than go back behind his head, Jackson’s arms stretched out to drape over the back of the couch as he smiled over at Mishka.

He was being fucked with, he knew that very well, but it wasn’t in the right way and Jesus how long was this going to play out for? It was a constant battle of flipping between giving in and staying stubborn as fuck. It was exhausting, really. Anton squinted back and sniffed lightly as he looked away from Jackson. Now the show had his undivided attention and he was set on keeping it that way. Unless Jackson did something like get up and stand in front of him of course, but if that happen it would snap the last of his efforts and open the dams of everything he’s been wanting to say since he went quiet.

Jackson knew he was just dragging it out at this point, but he couldn’t deny how much he was enjoying how stubborn Mishka was being. And he had to give him credit for sticking to his guns the way he was. For as fun as it was though, he couldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t slowly getting near the end of his patience. His hand came down from the back of the couch to slip under Mishka’s arm in his lap and he rubbed lightly over his thigh, giving it a squeeze. “You’re awfully quiet over there. Is my show borin’ you? Or are you still poutin’ that I haven’t pinned you down and fucked you yet?”

Wow, this show was so interesting and so much better than the fucking chiseled ass guy that was sitting so fuckign close to him. Definitely a lot better than Jackson. No doubt about it. God he was going to grind his teeth at this point. All of his senses were on extra high alert just from how tense he was, but when he heard and felt Jackson’s arm get moved he just tossed all of his self restraint out the goddamn window. Anton looked over with blatant surprise on his face with an actual whine unfurling from his throat a second later. “I’ve been fucking waiting for ages and you just fucking tease in the most goddamn excruciating way, but I’d be a fucking liar if I said I hated it,” he said in a rush as he moved his hand to hold the other’s wrist. He was sure that if things came down to it he’d get his ass handed to him in a fight, but now that Jackson was actually touching him below his torso he was not letting that go easily.

That fucking whine hit Jackson where it hurt, slipping right past his defenses and completely under his skin. It hadn’t been his goal exactly but that was only because he hadn’t know it had been an option. Mishka’s words brought a smirk to his lips and the way the other man’s hand wrapped around his wrist--not stopping but almost encouraging his touch only added to it. “All you had to do was say somethin’, darlin’,” he replied easily. Jackson’s tongue darted out to roll over his lips as he shifted over on the couch, turning to press against the other man. One hand braced on the arm of the couch as the other pulled away from Mishka’s thigh in favor of wrapping around the back of his neck as he brought his lips down to claim his mouth in a kiss.

All he had to do was ask? He wanted to call it bullshit, but before he could say anything else he was sucking his breath back into his goddamn lungs. His space was being crowded in the best way possible, and just the look the other gave him was enough for him to release his hold on Jackson’s wrist. Finally, fucking finally they were going somewhere. He could’ve wept in joy, but he was too preoccupied by the pair of lips that were pressed against his. A pleased noise left him as he all but melted into the other’s attention. Anton reached for Jackson, needing to get his fill of contact on that body. His hands met solid, warm skin and he was in heaven. That was it. He could make amends right now and pass on without any regrets. No, wait, he took that back because this was just the pre-warmup of what was to hopefully come- which he direly hoped would be Jackson and himself in the near future. His lips parted as his tongue peeked out to run along the seam of the other’s lips, asking silently to deepen the kiss as he felt along the man’s chest and arms.

Jackson hummed in pleasure at the feeling of Mishka’s lips against his and the way the other man seemed to melt beneath him. His mouth opened easily at the press of tongue, his own pushing forward to get a better taste--something he’d been dying for since the moment he’d met him if he were being honest. His hand moved from the back of Mishka’s neck, slipping down to wrap around his thigh and tug, encouraging him to shift around to make this better for both of them. Now that he’d finally bit the bullet and kissed him, there was no way in hell he was letting the other man leave here. At least not without something to show for the time spent.

The second the other’s lips parted he delved in without another moment’s hesitation. He was so damn eager to lick and taste, and that was exactly what he got. His hands were just as hungry as his mouth was it seemed like since he was trying to feel everything that was within reaching distance. When he felt a tug at his leg he complied without needing to think. In the back of his mind he knew that he’d get cramped up if he stayed in this weird half curled position so he straightened his limbs out. Anton took some amount of effort to make sure he didn’t knee Jackson or anything. It took a few moments, but he had the kiss to keep a part of him busy. With his legs straightened and his body practically spread out underneath Jackson he was completely content with how their bodies slotted against each other. There was no hiding the rise in his pants at this point, but he was sure that there wasn’t a need to cover it anymore. Not that he really could now that they weren’t just dancing around each other.

Jackson was quickly getting lost in the kiss, in how hungry Mishka’s mouth and hands seemed to be for him. It was perfect and exactly what he wanted and needed, to feel like he was craved  and desired just as much as he felt for the other man. He shifted around as Mishka moved with his tug, settling down on top of him finally. A groan sounded as he felt what the other man had been trying to hide press against him. Not that he was the only one now, Jackson’s own pants growing tighter and he rolled his hips down, offering them both some much needed friction. His lips dragged away from Mishka’s finally, his mouth moving down to nip over his perfect jaw. “Good boy,” he hummed out, fingers tangling in his hair as his lips dragged down to his neck. The words slipped out without thought so he didn’t even stop to worry how they would be received as teeth grazed the skin. “This what you want?” Jackson shifted again, an expert rock of his hips down into Mishka’s.

Oh, that was really nice to hear. The deep, throaty groan had him wanting more, and he had no reason to hold back on that. Anton was greedy as fuck and he loved  to take during times like these. He also made sure to give back just as much as he took as well. The grind against him had him pitch in his own opinion of how it felt as he moaned into Jackson’ mouth before the kiss broke. His eyes opened halfway and he preened at the praise. A lazy yet heated smile graced his face as he looked at Jackson through his lashes. Another moan slipped past him but this time it was a lit more airy as he gripped onto the man above him. “Fuck yes,” he said without a single care in the world if he sounded completely wanton right now.

The sounds that he pulled from Mishka, the way the other man clung to him as he rocked down against him, it was intoxicating and Jackson was very quickly losing his grip on that whole self-control thing. It had been months since he’d even kissed anyone and actual sex? It took more thought than he cared to put forth to remember the last time that had happened. His nips at the other man’s neck turned a little harder, teeth pressing in more urgently but still seeking permission before leaving an actual mark. His hand squeezed between them and he raised his weight just enough to allow it in, fingers tugging at the waistband of Mishka’s pants before his hand was pushing inside, unable to be slowed down by things like buttons and zippers or even underwear. Immediately his hand wrapped around the other man’s cock and he stroked over the length, thumb teasing over the tip to draw more delicious sounds from him. “Stop me,” Jackson breathed out. “Stop me if you don’t want it.”

“Oh, fuck.” Those two words seemed to be his go to now, but in his defense it was rather hard to form a long and coherent train of thought when he was descending  into something like this. The blunt pressure against his neck had him automatically tilt his head back to give the other more access. Hickies weren’t something that he obsessed over, because they were evidence of some sort of connection that happened. Be it purely physical or not, he usually strayed away from it unless the other person was just dying to it. Now, though, he was craving it. He wanted to feel that short sting of pain again and again, and all over his neck- hell, even his whole body if he could help it. Having Jackson reach down and bypass the barrier of his pants and boxer briefs made him suck in a sharp breath before he hissed out in pleasure. “The,” he paused to let out a short pleased noise, “fuck?” Anton tugged at the back of Jackson’s hair so they could make eye contact. “I never want you to stop. You hear me? Fucking mark me everywhere. Make me fucking limp around when we’re done. Do whatever the fuck you want with me ‘cause holy shit I want it. I fucking need it.”

Consent was a very, very big deal to Jackson and he didn’t care if it broke the mood or the moment to get it. Of course Mishka had talked a lot of shit--they both had--but that didn’t mean anything now that they were actually getting down and dirty and he wanted to make sure the other man knew he had an out. He almost froze when his head was pulled back, but he met Mishka’s gaze, and bit back an honest to God growl at the words. There was nothing about any of it that didn’t make him want to just rip the clothes out of his fucking way, but no, no. Calm, he’d get there. Without a word, his mouth was on Mishka’s neck, lips sealing and teeth digging in as he tongue worried a mark into the skin. His hand worked over the other man’s cock a little faster as his hips rolled down to press his own achingly hard length into his thigh, wanting to give Mishka a tease of what he was in for. Jackson was a big guy, tall and broad and muscular and he knew he was well proportioned. His mouth dragged down only to leave another mark before he forced himself to stop for the moment and instead, he claimed Mishka’s mouth in a deep kiss. “Fuck, I want you,” he mumbled against the other man’s lips. His words paused as he kissed him again. “Naked and spread out on my bed right now,” he finished, his tone making it clear he wasn’t asking so much as ordering.

He was ready to bask in whatever it was that Jackson wanted to give him, but he honestly didn’t mind telling the other what he wanted. It didn’t make the moment any less heated in his opinion, because in more cases than not people tend to like how needy could be physically and verbally and he knew that. So, yeah, he was more than pleased to have Jackson go straight for his neck when he was done talking. It pulled a small groan from him before he tumbled out a longer and filthier noise not just from the quickened strokes around his cock, but also from feeling Jackson roll against him. He felt the size of the other against his leg, and fuck that just made him that much more excited. Anton let Jackson do as he pleased. It didn’t matter if the man was trying to suck bruises onto his neck or if he was trying to kiss the living daylights out of him- he wanted it all with such a desperation it even surprised himself a little. To be fair though, he had worked damn hard to get here so he felt fairly justified with how he was acting. When the kiss broke he almost chased the other’s lips, but his brain managed to halt his body since Jackson didn’t move that far away. For a second he just stared at the other with his eyes blown with lust before he simply smirked. “That all you really want?” He asked with a small hum and he was proud of himself for not sounding too out of breath, because holy shit he wanted that too but he didn’t make a move to get his ass over to the bedroom just yet.

Was that all he wanted? Jackson would have laughed at the question if he hadn't already been far, far too distracted by the pure want pounding through him. Another crash of lips and roll of his hips and he was pulling his hand free of Mishka's pants, shifting himself from on top of the other man. Of course every single cell in his body screamed in protest at the broken contact but he ignored it, sliding down to his feet and reaching down to all but snatch Mishka up. Hands were around the other man's waist, slipping down to grip his hips and his mouth found his neck again. They were never going to make it to his bedroom at this rate but Jackson just couldn't fucking help it. Finally though, he forced himself back and away from Mishka. Fingers slipped into the other man's hand and he tugged him forward without a word towards his bedroom.

He was half expecting Jackson to keep up with stating what he wanted, but he sure as hell wasn’t complaining when it never came. What he did whine about was the loss of touch down below, but he just switched his attention back to what the other was doing to his. There were definitely going to be big ass marks there later, but fuck if that didn’t just rile him up even more. When Jackson got off of him he didn’t complain even though he was tempted to pull the man back down, but remembered that it might be easier to maneuver around on a bed instead of a couch. So he shut his trap and followed after Jackson without any other sort of prompting.

Thank God for his apartment being small because Jackson wasn't sure he could have waited the time it would have taken to get Mishka back to his bedroom otherwise. Given both their heights the couch really wouldn't have ended well. Not that he would have been too upset about knocked over or broken furniture but still. As soon as they were over the threshold, he was turning and tugging the other man into him, hands going for the hem of his shirt as he captured his mouth in another kiss. Touch, contact, he needed it constantly it felt like and Jackson wasn't going to hold back so long as Mishka was willing. Breaking back from the kiss to pull the shirt off, his hands wasted no time in going for the other man's pants as his teeth found his shoulder. Mishka had said he wanted marks everywhere so who was he to deny him that? Pants and underwear were loosed and shoved down and without giving the other man a second to even breathe, he pushed him down onto the bed as his hands went to discard his own tank top.

This was like the best goddamn roller coaster he’s ever been on. Weird comparison, but it’s always been his sort of thing to think of. There was the incline, the brief moment where everything stands still and then the drop. Sometimes there was another hill to go over, and he knew that if this ride was an actual thing it would be pitiful, but he was having a blast right now. The incline had been so torturously long, but now that they were starting to edge over into the drop he felt exhilarated. His need for close contact was just as desperate as the other’s and damn it felt good to know that they were on the same page. All of the shyness from before dissolved from Jackson and he wasn’t sure which part of him he liked better. Anton let the other undress him and he worked out another groan when he felt teeth bite down on his shoulder. Not long after that he was tumbling down, but he wasn’t complaining. He got to witness Jackson take off that offending tank top right on top of him and he swore that he was about to drool from the sight.

Jackson bit his lip hard at the sight on his bed, his eyes locked on Mishka’s naked form as he stripped off the rest of his own clothes. He wasted no time in climbing up on the bed and pressing down into him again, bare skin sliding over bare skin. The sensation was amazing and enough to pull a low sound from the back of his throat as his lips found the other man’s again. He’d have been lying if he said he hadn’t been anticipating this, but the reality was so much fucking better than even his imagination. Hips rolled down again, letting their lengths slide together as his teeth scraped over Mishka’s bottom lip roughly. Jackson wanted to go slow and take his time, but the desire was too strong and his mind seemed to be set on one track at the moment.

This was wonderful, simply amazing, and he didn’t hide the fact that he was all for this. Anton kissed Jackson back with just as much vigor, and he would admit that his breath hitched slightly when the other ground down against him. His hands were back on Jackson instantly, and as nice as this was, he had a sudden desire pop up into his head that couldn’t be ignored even if he tried. Not that he wanted to anyways. He might not know how to fight properly, but he knew a few tricks here and there. When his lower lip was bitten and tugged he felt a spike of arousal go through him. It was enough to spur him into flipping their positions with seemingly practiced ease. Well, it was definitely practiced from all the times he’s slept around. He didn’t even break the kiss, but now it was his turn to get a view from above. Anton leaned back slightly only so he could latch his mouth onto the column of the other’s neck for a moment before he began his trek downwards. “You remember what I said about how good I am with my mouth?” He murmured in between the pauses where he would worry over a new area of skin. “I’d be more than happy to show you what I meant.” Anton smoothed his hands over the other’s thighs while he scooted further down so he could settle in between Jackson’s legs. “If you wanna fuck into my mouth then by all means-Ne ostanavlivaysya.” He flashed a brief smirk before he pressed his lips against the base of the other’s cock. A long stripe was licked up to the tip where he then wrapped his mouth around the swollen crown. Anton sucked lightly as he swirled his tongue around before he dipped into the slit slightly. He hadn’t even gone down completely and he started to moan in appreciation. It just goes to show how much he enjoyed to go down on a guy he supposed. After a few more seconds of sucking around the tip he started to inch downwards until he felt the back of his throat get nudged. Instead of gagging like his body instinctively wanted to do he just forced himself to relax so he could take in a bit more before he pulled back up with his cheeks hollowed. He set a decent pace as he bobbed his head, never letting up on the sounds of pleasure he felt by doing this.

Jackson had been just about to reach down between them to wrap his hand around Mishka’s cock again when out of nowhere he was being rolled and flipped onto his back, lips still connected when they settled with the other man on top of him. Okay, well that was impressive as fuck and it had been a while since he’d met anybody that played dirty that way. His hands had smoothed down to settled on Mishka’s hips, a part of him considering rolling them again to regain his position on top but then there were lips on his neck, teeth pressing down and the thought was lost. His head titled to the side instinctively and a moan was pulled from his lips at the feeling of a mark being returned. He would have stopped Mishka if he’d been thinking about it, his fear of being discovered just that great, but in the moment, he wanted it. Wanted more. And more seemed to be exactly what the other man was going to give him.

Jackson shifted up on his elbows slightly as Mishka’s mouth began to move down his body, watching and letting out a quiet hiss of pained pleasure at each little mark being worried into his skin. He was getting more turned on by the second--if that were even possible. It seemed to be the case though and he let out a low sound at Mishka’s words. Fuck his mouth? He hadn’t gotten an invitation like that...ever actually. But fuck if he would say no. He watched, breath hitching when the other man’s lips finally pressed against his cock, and he did his best to resist the urge to rock forward at least for the moment because he wanted to see just what Mishka was capable of. It was barely seconds later that a loud groan fell from his lips as his tip brushed against and then went past the back of the other man’s throat and holy fuck. Jackson’s fingers threaded through Mishka’s hair as he braced himself up with his other hand because there was no way he was going to miss a sight like this. Slowly, his hips began to arch up, pushing his cock into the other man’s mouth and while the movements were almost unsure at first, it wasn’t long before the pleasure of the moment overtook him and Jackson began to thrust forward, using his hold in Mishka’s hair to control him as he fucked into his mouth. “So good, fuck,” he breathed out, his eyes searching to meet the other man’s as he set up a rhythm. “Your mouth is perfect, baby.”

Normally, he hated it when people messed with his hair. The back and lower parts were fine, he supposed, but when people decided play with the part where he took the time to style it every morning.. That’s where he had an issue. Except that pet peeve flew out of the goddamn window now that he had a dick down his throat. He was in seventh heaven, especially when Jackson got on board with letting him deepthroat like the whore he was. It was twice as good when the other started to fuck into him like he had wanted from the beginning. He was constantly groaning and moaning as he sucked in earnest. The other noises he made were wet and sloppy, but when he heard Jackson speak up he instantly looked up at the other. Anton felt so fucking smug about the clear pleasure the other man felt, and he keened at the praise. He didn’t let up on the rhythm and after a while he shifted his body a little bit so he could play with the other’s balls.

The sounds Jackson was pulling out of Mishka were like literal music to his ears and the vibrations that went through his cock as the other man moaned and groaned around him were only adding to everything, pushing his pleasure higher. And then they made eye contact and a loud rumble was pulled from deep in his chest. It might have been an odd sort of thing but he loved it. To look back in someone’s eyes and see just how deep under they were and how much they loved it and wanted more. And that’s definitely what he saw gazing back at him from between his thighs. Mishka had been whiny and pouty before and it was translating perfectly now. Everything felt so fucking good and the attention to his balls has Jackson’s hips bucking. But it had been a long time since he’d been with another person and it was so good that it was no surprise that already he was feeling that heat pool low in his stomach. No, no, not yet. Not only would that have been incredibly embarrassing to go out so quickly, but highly disappointing considering everything he still wanted to do to Mishka. So his hips stilled slowly, ignoring the way his body protested as he backed off of his orgasm and Jackson tugged  his mouth away, using his hold in the other man’s hair to guide him back up so that he could capture his lips once more.

As a thought to the side, not that he could really think that clearly right now unless it pertained to the activity at hand- or at mouth more like, he wondered how long this would go on. Call him prideful, but he knew that his deepthroating wasn’t something that usually lasted long. Not because of the chances of him getting lockjaw or anything, but because of how great it felt for the other person. He felt like he had every right to be confident in this skill because he had worked damn hard to get to this point, and he could honestly suck Jackson off for a long ass time. Their locked gaze was practically electrifying and he was thrilled to see just how blown the other’s pupils were. Eyes were the window to the soul and whatever else the saying contained, and this just meant that he was doing a mighty fine job right now. As Jackson pulled him up he didn’t hold back the wet pop that sounded when his lips left the other’s cock. There was a whine just waiting to be breathed out from the loss of weight in his mouth and on his tongue, but he was happily silenced when they started to kiss again. Anton used an arm to support himself against the bed as he got lost within the kiss. The noises he made were deeper now from having his throat used and he absolutely loved it.

Jackson kissed Mishka deeply, his desire coming through loud and clear with the way his lips and tongue moved against the other man’s. Hopefully it was enough to distract from the possible realization on Mishka’s part that he’d been just that close to ruining all their fun before it had even begun. “It’s my turn now,” he hummed out against Mishka’s lips, breaking the kiss and pushing the other man back down onto his back in one fluid motion. Granted, he’d never bragged about his oral skills, but he was pretty fucking confident in what he could do. He barely waited for the other man’s head to settle against the pillows before he was shifting around between his legs and dipping down to run his tongue up his length, root to tip with one teasing stripe. Jackson looked up, capturing Mishka’s gaze as hands soothed up his thighs. Of course, he could have drawn it out and teased the other man but given how long he’d tortured him before this, he felt that would have just been cruel--not to mention that it would take more time denying what he wanted too. His mouth sank down around Mishka’s cock, pushing a good ways down the shaft before pulling back to swirl his tongue. Deepthroating my not be a skill of his, but he didn’t let that stop him as he set up a good pace, pushing down and slipping back up with a practiced twist of his head.

If he could purr like how felines did it he would’ve been rumbling like a fucking machine. There was hardly any space to breathe right, but he wasn’t complaining one bit. Anton let out a soft noise when he was pushed backwards, but he was all putty when his back was fully on the bed. Especially since he was getting the same treatment he had just given Jackson. He took a sharp breath in before it dissolved into a wanton groan. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but when he saw that Jackson was looking at him he made it a point to hold the other’s gaze. There wasn’t really a thing for him to keep eye contact during intercourse or sex, but he swore he was falling deeper and deeper into the other man’s gaze. What was a thing for him was watching how he was getting blown. There was just something about the spit slick lips and the hollowed out cheeks that got to him. He couldn’t explain it and he never really bothered to anyways since no one asked. Anton reached out and carded his fingers through Jackson’s hair as he mimicked the other’s position from before when the roles had been reversed. One arm was used to prop himself up onto his elbow so he could watch the other without straining his neck. “Fucking shit,” he breathed as he tilted his head back just a tinge from how good this felt.

Jackson drank in Mishka’s reactions, the sounds and the fingers in his hair. In general, that wasn’t a thing, allowing someone else to control his head as he worked, but he didn’t fight against the other man’s fingers as his head bobbed up and down. For as much as he was loving it himself, this wasn’t his main goal and after a few more strokes of his head, his mouth slipped away, replacing the sensation with his hand and using the spit left behind to pump over Mishka’s shaft as his tongue trailed down, teasing lightly over his balls. Jackson let out a hum as he shifted down a bit more, his tongue slipping over skin until it was teasing over the other man’s hole. His eyes flicked up again, almost asking for permission as he licked again, pressing the flat of his tongue over Miska’s entrance, his hand still working his cock over at a steady pace.

In all honesty, he liked to give blowjobs more than receiving them but he just couldn’t find it in himself to complain. His voice actually felt a bit rough and he could only imagine how it’d sound by the time they were fucking. Just thinking about it made his toe curl slightly, but the temporary thought was pushed away when he didn’t feel wet heat around his cock. It wasn’t like he couldn’t see what Jackson was doing, but there was a small lag time in his head. Once it clicked, though, he was grinning as he worked out a small whine. He couldn’t help it- how long had it been since he got rimmed? Far too long if he couldn’t think of an answer right away. Anton canted his hips upwards for better access and a silent urge to get on with it. “You planning on.. Making this a huge tease for me too?” He asked as he cut his laugh in half when he bit down on his lower lip. If Jackson actually wanted to drag it out he wouldn’t hesitate with begging. Anton knew the number he could do when he widened his eyes and pleaded with a voice like this.

Jackson couldn’t even try to deny that he loved doing this and could honestly say that he’d never had any complaints. Being a natural top, it was his favorite way to make his partner fall apart while getting them prepped at the same time. He smirked a little when Mishka shifted around, giving him better access to what he wanted and he only hummed in response to the question. He had absolutely no plans to tease the other man, not with this. He enjoyed it too fucking much to hold back. Pushing his face even deeper, he broke the eye contact and let his eyes slip closed as his tongue darted out to drag up over Mishka’s entranced again and again, each press becoming harder and more insistent. Another hum of pleasure sounded as Jackson pushed the tip of his tongue into the tight ring of muscle just a tease before his free hand was slipping down. He stroked Mishka’s cock a little faster as he sucked his finger, slicking it up before the tip pressed against his hole, slowly easing inside of him.

It was to his delight, and relief, that there wasn’t any prolonged teasing. He might’ve wept if that had been the case- not that it would’ve been the first time he’d done so. Anton kept watching Jackson even after the man broke eye contact, but he couldn’t keep his head straight for that much longer. The moans were being pulled out of him as he got opened up with clear skill. Heat was coursing through his veins as he let his head fall back and his eyes close so he could just focus on what he felt rather than what he saw. The more Jackson loosened him up the more breathier his moan got. There wasn’t a hiss of pain or discomfort when a digit was slipped in. He just wanted more and he was almost tempted to move himself down lower to show it. Actually, scratch that before that was exactly what he did anyways. Anton rocked himself down a fraction, unable to help himself as the itch to be filled grew bigger and bigger.

Jackson knew he was hitting his mark, maybe even beyond that with the sounds that Mishka was making and the way he fell back onto the bed. But he fucking loved it. His tongue continued to tease even as his finger pushed into the other man, doing his best to go slow and be gentle. But rather than being tense or reacting as if it hurt, Mishka shifted and pushed down, almost like he was begging for more. And he was quick to answer that plea, sliding the digit in faster, not stopping until his knuckle was pressed against Mishka’s skin. Rather than waiting though, he pulled back after only a few seconds, dragging back just to push forward again. Jackson’s tongue rolled down, adding a little more lubrication as he began to press a second finger into Mishka’s hole. He probably could have gone slower, but the further in he went, the more he wanted, his hips grinding down into the bed for relief as he worked the other man over.

“Good fuck,” he breathed from feeling Jackson slide in deeper. There wasn’t as much of a gentle touch now and he was glad that his silent request had been answered. He had no qualms with making his thought known verbally, of course not, but he was more preoccupied with the knowledge that he’d more than just fingers hopefully sooner rather than later. His moans got louder when another digit was added in. Now there was a slight burn, but he relished it. Pain might not be his thing outside of the bedroom, or just outside of sex in general, but he absolutely adored it. Especially when it was done like this. The feeling was grounding and it definitely helped him stay somewhat focused as he rolled his hips downwards a little once again.

Jackson moved with the way Mishka rolled his hips, pushing down for more. If there had been a question as to whether or not the other man was used to bottoming, it was erased now. Not with the way he moved, it was too needy and perfect and it only managed to drag a groan from his lips at just what he was in for. A third finger pushed inside Mishka and he did his best to ease the sting with his tongue and the way his other hand stroked over his cock. Jackson didn’t want to drag this out, not at fucking all, but he wanted to be sure the other man was ready for him because once he started….It would take an act of God to make him stop. “Tell me you want it. I wanna hear you beg for my cock, darlin’.”

He was angling his hips while Jackson kept at it, and the timing of it all was too coincidental in his opinion. A shock of pure pleasure shot through him as he all but gasped. His eyes opened and he looked at the ceiling while he gripped the blanket below him. Tension bunched throughout his body for a quick second before he was pushing against Jackson with renewed vigor. “Fucking shit--” It was hard enough to say more than a few words at the moment, but now Jackson wanted him to form complete sentences? Challenge accepted even though half of his attention was on getting his prostate rubbed again. “I fucking want it so fucking bad. How much longer are you going to make me wait? Three fingers in. You’re three fucking fingers in- just fuck me with your cock already. Fucking make me feel stretched and if I can feel my ass and legs when we’re done I’m not letting you fall asleep or any of that shit. We’re going at it until I’m fucking sobbing.”

Jackson should have known when he told Mishka to beg that he was in for a treat. The other man had already shown just how much of a mouth he had on him in more ways than one. But every single word was perfect and damn near sent a pang of pure want straight to his cock. He let his fingers curl slightly, pressing against that sweet spot inside of Mishka before he dragged them out slowly and shifted up on the bed. “Good boy,” he hummed out with a smirk as he leaned over to his nightstand. Jackson wasted no time in tearing open the condom and rolling it on, adding a bit of lube from the small tube on his nightstand too for good measure. And then he was moving and leaning down, supporting his weight with one hand at the side of Mishka’s head as the other wrapped around his cock to guide it in. He couldn’t be bothered with words in the moment, his mind far too focused on what he was finally finally about to get to spout out some line. So instead, Jackson kissed Mishka, tongue pushing into his mouth roughly as his tip pressed against his entrance and he began to push in.

That seemed to do the trick and he would’ve been proud of himself if it weren’t for the deliberate slide over the bundle of nerves that had him hitching his breath again. There was the ghost of a keening noise that got stuck in his throat, but he was sure that there would be time for that to expand fully soon enough. Anton felt almost painfully empty as Jackson prepped himself, but he didn’t whine anymore. He was more geared towards the anticipation that danced around in his gut from seeing the condom get taken out. Then his gaze moved up to the other’s face before he was pressed into another kiss. His lips parted instantly and the blunt press against his hole was what made him groan all low and filthy. Anton spread his legs wider, needing Jackson to be inside of him already even though he knew it’d be better if he got the chance to adjust, but he didn’t care for that right now. He just wanted to get fucked into the mattress already.

Everything else seemed to fall away as Jackson’s hips pushed forward, breaking the kiss to let out a groan as his cock sank slowly, inch by inch into Mishka. The relief and the pressure, tight walls squeezing around him was so fucking amazing and he had to resist the urge to just snap forward. He wanted to give the other man time to adjust because three fingers or not, this was a lot different. Finally, finally, he buried himself in Mishka’s ass, their bodies meeting and another lower sound was pulled from the back of his throat. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” Jackson groaned out. His free hand smoothed down over the other man’s leg before wrapping around his thigh and tugging to encourage him to wrap around him as his hips began to pull back. His mouth found the unmarked side of Mishka’s neck and he bit down to add another sting of pain, nearly pulling all the way out before he was thrusting forward with a little more force.

The sound of them both enjoying this moment in unison was a lot hotter than necessary. His eyes were half lidded again as he felt himself get filled. It was mind numbingly delicious, and he wanted more of it. So much more, but the rational side of him appreciated the restraint Jackson had to let him relax a bit more before things could move on. His ass would thank that notion later even if he was beyond that reasoning right now. “Damn right I am,” he gritted out as he swallowed thickly. His legs wrapped around Jackson’s waist after the hint, and he made sure to cling to the other from this point out. Again, he tilted his head to the side as the other worried over an unmarked part of his neck. The combined feelings almost made him wheeze, but a more appealing sound was put forth instead thankfully. “Fuck yeah. Don’t go all soft on me. Fuck me like you fucking mean it.”

Jackson melted a little as Mishka’s long, long legs wrapped around him, the other man clinging to him and causing that wave of feeling needed to wash over him again. It was nearly as intoxicating as the man himself and only heightened his pleasure in the moment. His hips moved and stirred, wanting to really feel just how tight Mishka was and he was on his way to setting up a pace, his teeth showing no mercy as they found the other man’s collarbone. But then of course Mishka’s own mouth opened and he let out an almost growl at the sound. Jackson’s forward push stopped and instead he arched back, letting his cock slip free of the other man completely. His head lifted up and he locked eyes with Mishka. “I’m sorry but it sounds like you’ve forgotten just who the fuck is in charge here. This ass?” he said, shifting to press his tip against the tight ring of muscle in a tease. “It’s mine and you’ll take whatever the fuck I give you and you’ll fucking love it.”

He was desperate, alright? He hadn’t felt his damn good without a drop of alcohol in his system in months. Usually his hookups and one night stands were when he was completely inebriated. Most of the times he remembered everything that happened, but there were a few times where he did not remember. This though? This was something he’d remember until he was rolling in his grave. There was another word on its way out before he sucked it back into his goddamn lungs. He was empty again and this time he flat out whined. It wasn’t quite a whimper since there was strength in the sound, but holy shit that was fucking hot. To see Jackson get all bossy like this? Oh yeah, definitely going in his spank bank for later. It was involuntary but Anton leaned his head back even more when he felt Jackson press against him slightly., almost as if he was trying to steal the other’s attention away just by the sole image of the mess that had become of his neck. The spatterings of deep reds and forming bruises probably looked like a goddamn masterpiece, but it wasn’t that simple. “Ponyal“,” he said, more blown away by how turned on he was right now than anything else. If he had the chance to step back and reevaluate what he had said just now he would’ve been beside himself. There hasn’t been a time where his tongue slipped like that, or well, there had been but the other person had asked him to speak Russian.

The whine that sounded hit Jackson right in his weakest point and he damn near gave in at just the noise. He wasn’t sure if Mishka had already figured out he loved it that much and was doing so on purpose or if it was just the other man’s natural self. Either fucking way, he was getting lost in it. Whiny, needy, clingy, greedy, desperate and demanding. He was eating it up. And especially the way that Mishka gave in to him. “Khoroshiy mal'chik,” he purred without hesitation. There had been a handful of times other languages had slipped out when he was lost in a haze of sex, but usually he was far too distracted make much sense. Not that it mattered but it did now because he knew it was Mishka’s native language. Without further hesitation, his hips shifted again and he managed to like up with the help of his hand and he pushed back inside the other man, the slow or even gentle movements gone as he sank down, fully burying his cock in that perfectly tight ass again. Jackson couldn’t hold in his groan at the feeling because even if he was making it clear he was in control, he could never deny his own pleasure in it all. His hand slipped down to grip at Mishka’s hip, almost holding the other man in place as he pulled back and thrust into him again, his pace picking up as he fell into a hard and fast rhythm.

Again, that shouldn’t be that hot, but here he was, already fucking keening from hearing that roll off of Jackson’s tongue. Who knew he had a thing for different languages during sex? He certainly didn’t, but he sure as hell knew now. His lips fell apart a bit more as he felt the push in, and after that it was all gone. More specifically- he was gone. The way Jackson pushed back into him made the previous motion sheepish almost. Anton grew in volume with the sound that was dragged out from what felt like the depths of his fucking soul. They fell into a harsh pace right off the bat and he was living in it. His mind was going numb as his body coursed with absolute pleasure. Soon enough he wasn’t even aware of the things he babbled a litany of nonsense. All of which were directed towards how fucking good this felt. How good Jackson felt and how wonderful he felt as well. It wasn’t even to his knowledge that he was speaking in Russian, but that seemed like such a small thing compared to the bruising hold on his hip kept him down as his ass was pounding into.

Jackson’s ego was stroked with every thrust of his hips, but even he wasn’t immune to the heat of everything. And seeing the mess Mishka was dissolving into beneath him. Whines, whimpers, moans, half words, mixed Russian, the other man was literally coming apart it seemed and he fucking loved it. His lips crashed down to still the flow of words for the moment, needing that connection, needing more as he slammed his hips forward, like he was trying to get deeper with each movement even though he’d already gone as far as possible. He was feeling that need and desire, craving every last bit of Mishka that he could have and in the moment he couldn’t care less at how aggressive he was being to get it. It was a slippery slope though and the further he fell, the more he wanted. Jackson forced himself back up and away, shifting back on his knees more as both hands gripped at Mishka’s hips, jerking the other man forward a little into a better angle. His hips never stuttered, never faltered and he looked down, drinking in and drowning in the sight beneath him. “Stroke that cock for me, baby. Wanna see how much you love this dick.”

God, he could feel that slow, heated tension start to build, but he didn’t have the sense to do a count down. Not that he thought he really could since Jackson had been pulling out surprises left and right since the second they met. He felt his teeth clack against the other’s when he was silenced with a bruising kiss, but fuck that felt oddly good. Or maybe he was already that far gone to connect it with the rest of his brain. Whichever reason- he was still panting from how merciless he was getting fucked. Anton was jarred from his absent thinking when the other leaned back. The sight shift had him punch out a sharp, strangled noise and he all but scrabbled for some sort of purchase. One hand found Jackson’s wrist while the other automatically did what he had been told to do. Anton worked over his cock at the same pace as he was getting rammed into by the other, and he was sure he’d be seeing stars really fucking soon. His mouth hung loose as a shameless moan was punctuated by each snap of Jackson’s hips.

Jackson wasn’t as immune to all of this as he hoped he could be. Not that he didn’t want to get dragged down and lost in the moment, it was that he wanted it to last. He wanted to last. But again, that heat was coiling tighter and tighter low in the pit of his stomach with each snap of his hips. Mishka’s hand around his wrist managed to ground him a little, his focus pulling a little from his own pleasure to the man beneath him and fuuuccckkkk. “That’s it. Fuck...Просто так,” he encouraged, teeth digging into his bottom lip in an attempt to hold in his own moan. It failed of course, the sound forcing its way out anyways as he felt Mishka’s walls tightening around him. “Cum for me, darlin’. I want it right now.”

He almost wanted to tell Jackson to shut up, because could only do so much with how he was getting rammed into. It was too much to hear him talk like that, but that’s exactly what the other wanted apparently. His breaths turned shallow but his grip on Jackson’s write didn’t falter. It grew tighter if anything and he was close. Jesus Christ he was close. His neck and chest strained as he pressed his head back against the bed. The command did things  to him, but he didn’t climax right away. It took a few more tugs around his own cock before he lost it. He didn’t just get pushed over the edge. No, he fucking got slam dunked into the goddamn floor with the force of the orgasm. Anton came with a shout that could’ve passed as Jackson’s name, but he’d find that as a miracle since it felt like his mind was short circuiting as his body locked up. He spilled over his hand and onto himself, but the release of it all winded him so thoroughly he almost thought he forgot how to breathe for a second.  

It was if Jackson could see his words taking a physical effect on Mishka and he fucking loved it. The way the hand around his wrist tightened, the other man pressing back against the bed almost as if he was trying to fight it and hold off. But he couldn’t and it didn’t take long until he was tensing, Jackson’s hips having to push that much harder to keep up his pace as Mishka clenched around him and cum spilling and splashing down over skin. That was nearly too much, but it was the sound of his name, nearly hard to miss as it mixed with the moan that did Jackson in. His hips pumped wildly as he chased his own orgasm. Everything tensing and tightening until finally, finally it just snapped and his cock was throbbing and spasming as he came. There wasn’t exactly a name for the sound that tore through him as he emptied himself, the pleasure crashing down over him, relief after having gone so, so fucking long without it.  A few more thrusts, stutters of his hips before he was stilling his movements, his body coming down to press into Mishka’s and paying no mind to the mess between them as he claimed his lips in a surprisingly sweet kiss.

He, for one, didn’t do the whole cuddling thing after sex. The afterglow was fine, he supposed, since he was usually too worn out to fucking move. Well, that was if the sex was mind blowing, but he actually found himself curling his lips into a content smile when Jackson laid on top of him only to plant a kiss that lacked the heated need they were winding down from. His entire body felt heavy as hell and almost all of his energy had been sapped away, but God had it been worth it. Anton kissed back in languid motions as he draped his arms around the other. This was good. This was comfortable and he honestly couldn’t care about the mess on his stomach right now. He was still floating along for the euphoric ride, and it’d be a bit before he came back down.

Jackson kissed Mishka slowly, almost like they had all the time in the word, and the pace was nearly the complete opposite of only moments before. But he didn’t care. He was riding the high of everything for as long as he could. Granted, he wasn’t much used to having time to cuddle or come down because most of his experiences had been hurried moments of opportunity, so maybe he was soaking this up as much as possible. It didn’t seem the other man minded though as arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer it felt like. Eventually, he broke the kiss and pulled back. “Come on, baby. Need to get cleaned up before the feelin’ good fades and it hurts to move,” Jackson said, reluctantly pulling away. The comment could have been taken as vain almost, like he was just that damned good, but it hadn’t been meant that. And either way, he knew he was right because he definitely hadn’t taken it easy on Mishka.

If he was being honest with himself, unlike how he was ninety percent of the time because of his ties with being in denial a lot, he’d admit that this was nice. He wasn’t comparing Jackson to his exes, mostly because none of them came close to what just happened, but there was the phantom of an idea of how domestic this almost was. It should’ve put him on edge. It should’ve had him find a reason to leave so he could go home and sober up from the endorphins that were clouding his mind, but he didn’t. Anton stayed right where he was and only grumbled when he was urged to get up. The only reason why he followed after Jackson was because of the fact that this wasn’t his bed. If it had been he wouldn’t have given a shit if he got the sheets dirty. Well, that and also because he got to get an eye full of the other’s ass as well.

Jackson lead Mishka into his bathroom, trying to push the blissful afterglow from his mind enough to be responsible. It wasn't that he was worried about his sheets so much as how their bodies would end up sticky and he'd rather deal with it now than live with the uncomfortable regret later. A shower was what came to mind, of course but he wasn't sure it was a good idea to push for it, especially considering how it would only serve to make him want another round and it was already unbearably late. So instead, Jackson pointed out where everything useful was and left the other man to his own devices, snagging a towel to clean himself for the immediate moment as he headed for the refrigerator.

His heads were still stuck in the clouds and pull from the remnants of the orgasm. It was a wonder that he wasn’t spouting something since his mouth almost never stopped moving. A small noise of appreciation as he was left alone. Anton cleaned himself up and padded back out into the bedroom, already feeling incredibly sluggish. He didn’t try to look for where Jackson went since the bed was right there. Anton fell down and sighed happily as his body sagged into the blankets and pillows. The question of if he should stay here for the night came up, and he knew he needed to ask but his body refused to cooperate. So he remained face down and starfished on top of the bed as he fought off the lure of slumber.

Jackson heard the bathroom door open and made his way back into his room, laughing lightly at the sight of Mishka spread out on his bed, face down. God, that ass was so perfect. “Careful now, or I'll take that as an invitation for a round two,” he teased as he crosses over and settled down next to the other man's head. He held out the bottle of water in offer. “I was right, huh? You don't wanna move now, do ya?” Maybe there was a hint of smugness to his voice, a bit of teasing on his tone as he looked down at Mishka, his other hand coming up to smooth over his back. Of course, he couldn't pass the opportunity to run his palm over that amazing ass either.

As tired as he may be, he still found it in himself to jerk his head up and look over with squinted eyes. “I mean, I never turn down another round unless the fuck was just that bad, but I’d never say no with how I’m feeling right now.” The smile he gave was lopsided as he tracked Jackson’s movements. “Unless you want to haul my ass all the way home then I’m not going anywhere,” he said with a small huff as he took the water bottle. Anton propped his upper half up with the help of his elbows and he couldn’t help but grin smugly at Jackson when he felt his ass get touched. “Now I see how you’re more of a hands on sorta guy.”

That in and of itself was plenty of an ego stroke, the fact that Mishka said he'd not turn down another round. Of course, the idea got tossed quickly because it was late and they were both clearly exhausted. Jackson's brow quirked slightly when the other man said he planned to stay, a part of him not stupid enough to get his hopes up for such. He shook his head and laughed as Mishka shifted up and snagged the water. “Looks like you and your amazin’ ass are stuck with me for the night then ‘cause I don't think I could be convinced to put on pants, let alone actually leave.” He let his hand continue to trail over Mishka's skin, smirking at the comment. “Told ya not to doubt me, didn't I, darlin’?”

“Streaking’s a thing you know,” he said absently as he drank a bit of water before he capped the bottle. “Uh huh, sure did, but it would’ve been great if you showed me, you know, sooner.” It was a clear complaint but he didn’t hold any malice in it. Anton just rolled over onto his side with a low groan. The water bottle was left near Jackson in favor of burying his face into the nearest pillow. “I don’t know about you, but I’m like.. A minute away from passing the fuck out. Feel free to join, or not, I’m sleeping anyways.” His voice was getting groggier and his body was already trying its hardest to shut down. Going off of three hours of sleep from the night before could do that to him sometimes.

Jackson only rolled his eyes at Mishka's teasing and complaints, not wanting to put forth the necessary effort to argue or snark back. He grabbed the water bottle when the other man turned over and took a drink as he shifted up from the bed. “Yeah, I'll be right back. Gotta turn everythin’ off.” Of course the only thing he wanted to do was crawl right up next to Mishka and pass out too, but one of them had to be the adult and it was his place. “You better not be a blanket hog,” Jackson teased as he disappeared into the living room to finish getting the apartment ready for bed.

When Jackson got off the bed he let his eyes slide shut. There was a slight burn from just how tired he was, and he knew that his contacts would give him hell in the morning, but they were made to be slept in. Anton just mumbled back a quiet noise as he remained still. “I don’t like blankets,” he said, already halfway gone from being conscious. If he was awake he would’ve gone on about he got hot way too easily under a lot of blankets, but his mouth was already closed so he kept it that way as he started to doze off.

Jackson made quick work of turning everything off in the apartment, not wanting to leave Mishka alone in his bed for too long. God, when was the last time he’d thought that?...Or maybe even the first time? Even for as much as it sounded as if he’d lived, here in Atlanta was his first time having a place of his own. And Mishka was the first person to share his bed. The thought hit him out of nowhere, but it was far too heavy to hold up given his exhaustion, so Jackson brushed it away as he clicked off the last light and made his way back into the bedroom. He climbed up onto the bed, head falling against the pillow as he tugged up just the top sheet over them.

There was only a shred of consciousness left in him when Jackson got into bed. He stirred a little just to make a noise to inform the other that he knew that the man was beside him. No mind was given when he felt something get put on top of him. It’d probably be off of him by the time he woke up, but for the time being he just said fuck it and finally succumbed to the sleep that he had desperately needed.

Jackson settled in and looked over at the quiet noise Mishka let out. The other man really hadn’t been kidding about how tired he was. It was cute though and he knew at least a part of the exhaustion was thanks to him. He lay still for a moment, but it just wasn’t quite comfortable, so Jackson turned to his side facing Mishka as his arms slipped out to wrap around him and tug him close. Arm draped over the other man’s waist, he pressed a kiss to one of the marks on his neck before nuzzling in and burying his face against the skin wordlessly. There, that felt much better. Jackson’s eyes slipped closed and moments later, he was joining Mishka in a comfortable sleep.