I don't know what to ask! These things always intimidate me a little, like how am I worthy to be interacting with such amazing writers??
But let me think.... Ok can I ask how Jack and Joe's week has been?
💙💙💙
This ask is from forever ago, but I meant to thank you for it when you first sent it. But after all the kind words you had for The Kennel last night, I want to 1.) thank you again for being so kind to me and 2.) try to answer this. I obviously haven't been around as often, but I do still check in and think about my boys. Here goes nothing!
"You're not serious."
Jack looks back over his shoulder, and he tries not to laugh. Joe stands in the kitchen doorway, his face frozen in horror and his eyes fixed firmly on the mottled blue-red lobster that Jack holds pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Jack should have known he wouldn't get away with this--or at least, that Joe wouldn't let the occasion pass without protest. This is, after all, a man who became a vegetarian because of his mother's highland cow wall calendar.
"You don't have to eat it, Joey."
"Neither do you," Joe replies. "You could let him go right now."
Jack sets the lobster back into the open cooler at his feet and closes the lid. "Where would you propose I do that?"
"We live on the water."
"I don't think he's from Long Island Sound. It wouldn't be very nice to abandon him so far from home."
Joe's lips purse. "You're going to boil that poor animal alive."
"That's how it's done, my love." Jack nudges the cooler with his stocking toe. "He's been chilling in there all day. He won't even feel it."
Joe stares at the cooler with disgust. "How do you know?"
"I suppose I don't. But Hallie--"
"--do not blame this on our child--"
Jack sets gentle hands on Joe's shoulders. "Hallie asked if she could try lobster."
"She wouldn't have asked if she knew that it was going to turn you into a murderer."
Jack snorts. "Well, she made a concession. I offered her crab--then I wouldn't have to do the killing--but she said Sebastian was a crab, and she didn't want to eat Sebastian."
"You walked her past the lobster tank, didn't you?"
"Yes. I am a monster. "
"Jackie--"
"She said they looked like big bugs. I guess no one's anthropomorphized lobsters yet."
Joe doesn't quite know what to say, and Jack knows it. He presses a kiss to his husband's lips.
"I promise, it will be over fast."
Joe looks down at the cooler with a sigh. "That's what they all say."
"If it's any consolation, I think Hallie only wants to try it because she gets to dip it in butter."
"Butter?"
"Yessir," Jack says, wrapping his arms around Joe's waist. "Drawn butter." He kisses Joe's neck. "I got some fresh sourdough for you," he whispers. "And your own butter warmer. They sit on top of candles. It'll be romantic."
Joe groans as Jack's teeth nibble at the meat between his neck and shoulder. Jack could certainly never be a vegetarian.
"Careful, Dr. Prescott. We need to keep it PG until Hallie's in bed."
Joe's hips buck forward. His voice is breathless. "You started it. You're just trying to--to--"
"Butter you up?" Jack says with a grin.
Joe laughs. "I love you, even if you're about to murder an innocent crustacean."
"I love you too. Now, get out of my kitchen. I want you to have plausible deniability."