ஃ ➡ @mckickin
Burbon painted lips came to be cleaned with the thick muscle behind pearly whites. Licking his lips slowly to enjoy the left over flavor of his drink. The wonderful bite of liquor that lingered.
Jacks question was met with buzzed hues that peered over the red pancho covering his shoulder. Hat tipped, eyebrows raised and it wasn’t long before those eyes began to wonder.
From baby blues, to mentally stripping that beautiful body. “ Mmm. Hmhm. ” He hummed, followed by a chuckle. A shift in his movements before his hat was taken from his head and placed on the table beside him.
“ What do I feel like doin’ to ya, huh ? ” He took another drink, his gaze never breaking from the Soldiers. The way he held himself already made Jesse start to feel tight in his pants. Those teeth biting down on that knuckle. Damn. How he wanted those to mark him.
This was it. He sat his drink down and leaned in. Eyes swimming with hunger as he slowly took a breath. His hand snaking over to trail up the Soldiers thigh, stopping with a grip and holding the grip when he got close.
“ I wanna rip those goddamn close off o’ ya right here, right now. ”
of course it occurred to him that posing such question could lead to something they can’t back out of, but jack has a terrible tendency to run HEAD-FIRST into danger. ...not that he’s thinking of this as such, placing all his faith in that the eyes which hold him belong to a man who’d never see him harmed.
breath CATCHES in his throat, an inhale trapped in sticky ANTICIPATION---he’s hardly aware he hasn’t let it GO, attention placed entirely in the way jesse’s eyes travel over him with an INTENSITY that feels almost PALPABLE.
when gazes meet jack SWALLOWS, unconsciously running his tongue along his lips as the cowboy takes a pull from his glass---all of his actions are inadvertent responses to jesse’s motions - like when the cowboy leans CLOSER, jack leans BACK ; though it’s not to put distance between them, rather to see whether or not jesse is willing to FOLLOW HIM.
the muscles of his legs TIGHTEN, antsy jostle of one knee coming to a halt as a hand rests upon the opposite. now does jack EXHALE, the breath shuddering from parted lips. one hand finds jesse’s wrist, his own form of encouragement, as the other reaches to grab a fistful of red fabric wrapped ‘round neck, drawing him in with a coaxing TUG ;
“ what’s stopping you ?”










