"You're a bad idea, but a real good time."
dbf!Jack Abbot x robinavitch!reader
synopsis: For the past six years, your family never missed their mandatory two-week summer vacation to the lake house. But after Pittsfest, your brother and your dad leave on their own trip to work through the tensions it left behind—leaving you alone for two weeks with your dad's best friend.
word count: 6.2k
content tags: mdni, older man/younger reader, age gap, dbf!jack abbot, robinavitch!reader, gn!reader, dry humping, european author who doesn't know shit about us geography, unfunny author tries to be funny, maybe ooc jack?
a/n: so this is something new for me, I have never written smut or anything explicit before. I also never searched for synonyms as much as I did to write this haha. It might be clumsy and awkward, but I hope you enjoy this!
I used this great guide to write the most explicit scenes.
dividers credit: uzmacciato, saradika-graphics
masterlist
When you were eighteen years old, your dad had decided to create a new family tradition: a two-week-long vacation at the family lake house up in Kelley island, Ohio.
It sat near Lake Erie, tucked away from everything. It was nowhere near as loud and crowded as Pittsburgh—it was the opposite actually. The drive there took nearly four hours, but even that felt like a part of the vacation: windows rolled down, sunglasses on, radio on bursting out old songs from the 70s, your dad smiling widely and singing out loud. He always looked lighter than he did at home.
The new rule had been sudden, but it was also a well-needed change. As you grew up, your relationship with your father had started to strained. You got along well enough, yet it often felt like the both of you weren't truly close.
The thing was, Michael Robinavitch was a great doctor and an excellent mentor (though even that had become questionable lately), but when it came to his personal life, he struggled a little more than he'd like to admit. Being your dad was his greatest pride, his biggest achievement, but there were times when he struggled to stay out of the ED and actually be there for you. Fatherhood didn't come naturally to him. He had always been one to avoid commitment and being a father was a lifelong commitment that wasn't going to go away simply because he had too much on his plate.
Which was why he had put the mandatory two-week-long vacation in place.
Kelleys Island brought a peace you couldn't find in Pittsburgh. It was small, slow and almost too peaceful. The lake stretched endlessly, and the house was old, something that carried history and a beauty modern houses couldn't match. It was a place where you could allow yourself to sit in silence, work through your thoughts and relax.
For the first trip, it had been just you and your dad. It was a little chaotic, with your dad struggling to adjust to having nothing to do. He grew stir-crazy, but the two of you ended up doing a lot together: kayaking, hiking, and anything else you could find.
It had been refreshing.
Despite the fact that your father earned a pretty great salary, you had never really gone on trips. Or at least, nothing longer than a weekend getaway. As far as you remembered, your dad had always been a workaholic and had a hard time stepping out of the ER. The time away helped you grow closer, learn more about each other and begin to reconcile.
The first night at the lake house, the two of you sat on the dock in silence, watching the water ripple as it reflected the stars. There was no light pollution here: the sky stretched endlessly, no clouds in sight, and constellations were brighter than you had ever seen them before.
Your dad had started talking about his Bubbe: memories from when he was a kid, things she had taught him, and stories about times he'd been caught doing something he definitely shouldn't have. You could hear the smile in his voice, but there was something underneath, too. Nostalgia, but also the quiet kind of homesickness that never really went away after a loved one passed away.
Then, the conversation had shifted to you, your first year at nursing school and how it was going. If you liked it, if it was going well, if you were having a hard time and if you had made friends.
You left from the lake house lighter than you'd ever been.
For the second trip to the lake house, Jake joined you.He was ten years old when he joined in the second trip, and despite the nine years age gap, you had a fantastic time. You had always gotten along.
You had lost your mother very young, so she and your father couldn't have given you siblings. But then, Janey and Jake entered your life. After your dad and Janey broke up, they both stayed in your life and you couldn't be more grateful for that. The separation was mutual, and they remained great friends. The four of you had a monthly family dinner, either at yours or at Janey's. You still picked up Jake from school time to time to grab ice cream or to go do some fun activities—lately your thing was going to VR games rooms.
Needless to say, when the three of you travelled up to the lake house, you had a fantastic time. Despite the age gap between you and Jake, you still teamed up to drive your dad crazy. At one point, Michael had actually sent both of you to a corner when you pushed him too far, which only made Jake and you laugh harder.
The new and last addition to the third trip was Jake Abbot. Your father's best friend and the night-shift attending at PTMC. You didn't know him all that well, as you were grown and didn't spend as much time at home as you used to. You had only had short encounters that hadn't been enough to have an opinion about someone.
Even if Jake and you weren't familiar with him, the vacation turned out great. You hadn't doubted it a second, but Jack was an incredible addition to the annual holiday.
Even though you were staying at a lake house, he took the three of you camping. From that point on, every trip included a small camping excursion.
Now in your late twenties, you had moved out of your father's house a long time ago. You still spent plenty of time at your childhood home, but you also needed the privacy and the space that came with having a place of your own.
Your house sat a few streets away from your dad's, still in a nice neighbourhood of Pittsburgh. It wasn't big, but it was perfect for you. There was a guest bedroom that had gradually become more Jake's room than anything else. He had decorated it to his liking with posters on the walls, with some of his clothes in the closet and dresser and small trinkets around your house.
The house came with a yard, which you used constantly. Breakfast outside, brunch with friends, a drink after a long shift. It had quickly become your favourite place to decompress. You spent even more time there now that the days were growing longer. Summer approached quickly, the sun setting later than it did during winter. The sky melted into a mix of orange and pink, birds chirping as they flew around.
It was silent, peaceful even.
Until your phone rang, shattering your bubble.
"Who the fuck…dares to call me…when I'm so busy?" You murmured dramatically, reaching for your phone resting on the small garden table next to your wine glass.
The screen read: "dad".
You picked up, bringing the phone to your ear. "Yes, Father dearest? What service dost thou require of me?"
"What?" your father's confused voice sounded out. Despite having raised you for more than two decades, he still sounded perpetually out of depth with half the things you uttered. "You know what, I'll ignore that. I just needed to talk to you about something."
You examined the chips in your nail polish. "Well, I'm listening."
"Listen, I know I was the one to install the mandatory vacation at the lake house, but Jake and I won't be making it this year."
"What?" You frowned, immediately sitting straighter. "Why not?"
There was a long pause. You could hear the exhaustion in his voice when he finally answered. "Well, Jake has been blaming me for Leah's death."
"Oh, dad…"
Your chest tightened.
His voice was shaky, and you knew he still blamed himself, even though he had done everything he could. He had done more than he should have honestly, especially during the Pittfest MCI. You had seen him cry over it more than once, and those moments never got easier. He was still grieving Adamson, and now he struggled to recover from Pittfest.
"I thought that taking a trip just the two of us would help us make up, sort everything out," he added quietly.
"That's a good idea, Dad," you hummed softly. "I'm sure it'll do you two good."
"I knew you'd understand, sweetheart." His voice was soft. "I'm sorry that we can't come, but you'll still have Jack."
"Oh." You blinked a few times. "I assumed the trip would be cancelled."
"If you're not comfortable being alone with Jack , you don't have to go, honey." he said gently. "Jack will be making the trip either way, so you're free to join if you'd like to."
You stayed silent for a moment.
You hadn't been alone with Jack before.
For a few hours here and there, maybe. But days? Two full weeks?
Two weeks alone with Jack, who was unfairly attractive.
Jack, who rolled up his sleeves absentmindedly, exposing his strong and veiny forearms, or wore those skin-tight compression shirts that wrapped perfectly around his biceps.
Jack, who had a habit of walking around shirtless like clothing was optional. Your dad had scolded him multiple times about being too comfortable, to which he'd only wink at him and acted as if he hadn't heard his complaint.
Jack, who did yoga in little to no clothes outside in the backyard directly in front of the living room bay window. It wasn't the reason you liked to read your books in the living room—not at all.
Jack, who had the infuriating habit of saying things that sounded incredibly dirty with a casual and innocent air and had the audacity to give you an odd look when you'd short circuit.
He already drove you insane when the four of you were together.
Alone? You might actually lose your mind.
Or worse.
But still, you loved the lake house, and you couldn't imagine skipping a year just because Jake and Michael weren't there.
"I don't mind going with Jack," you finally said quietly.
"Good. I'll let the two of you settle the details. You have his number, right?" Your dad asked. You heard some shuffling through the line, probably him reaching for his little contact book. He still wrote down numbers and addresses like it was the 70s. You'd teased him relentlessly about it.
"I do. We don't talk much outside of the trip, but we do send texts on holidays and birthdays."
"Right," your dad said slowly, probably quirking an eyebrow. "Well, I'm sure you guys will have a good time but not too much, okay? No funny business."
Your eyes widened, your eyebrows shooting up to your hairline. "What? Dad, it's Jack."
"Exactly. It's Jack," he repeated. "I know how attractive he is, and I've seen the way you look at him, darling."
"Daaaaad!" You buried your face in your free hand, cheeks burning. You hadn't realised he'd noticed. Though, in hindsight, you probably hadn't been subtle while shamelessly admiring Jack's abs.
"Come on, darling, I wasn't born yesterday." Michael chuckled at your embarrassment. "It's alright. We've all had an embarrassing and inappropriate crush at some point. But no funny business, young lady."
"Sir, yes, sir." you answered, your hand still covering your face in embarrassment despite being completely alone.
'I'm so fucked.'
A few days later, a knock echoed through your house at 7:30AM sharp.
You didn't need to check to know who it was. You opened the door, and there he was. Jack Abbot, in all his unfairly attractive, early-morning glory.
"Hey."
You hadn't seen him for nearly a year, but somehow he looked exactly the same, if not better. This man looked better each year that passed, aging like fine wine. It was utterly unfair.
He wore a simple black t-shirt and dark blue jeans, nothing special, yet he still looked devastatingly handsome. His hair was slightly messy, like he'd run a hand through it one too many times or maybe he hadn't bothered brushing his hair this morning.
"Hey, let me just fetch my bags and I'll be back." You said, offering him a warm smile threaded with exhaustion. You had woken up way too early, you still didn't feel fully awake.
"I can help carry them to the car." He said, taking a step inside your house like he'd been invited a dozen times.
You blinked before nodding in agreement. You weren't going to refuse help, especially not when it meant watching him carry things. That would be…educational.
You led him through your house toward your bedroom, but suddenly felt hyper-aware of everything: the throw blanket you hadn't bothered folding back and left on the couch, the mug on the drying rack, the faint scent of coffee and pancakes lingering in the air. You realized he had never been in your house before from the way his eyes quietly took everything in quietly.
When you pushed the door to your bedroom open, Jack paused dead.
He looked at your luggage, then at you, then back at the luggage.
"You do know that we're travelling only for two weeks," he said slowly "and that the house has a washer, right?"
You followed his gaze to your luggage at the foot of your bed. One suitcase and two duffel bags.
Okay, maybe you had gone a little overboard—just a little.
"I know." you said defensively, crossing your arms. "But whenever I pack light, I end up hating everything I brought. Then, I go shopping. So, really, this is me being financially responsible."
Jack's mouth twitched, clearly fighting a smile. He shook his head and let out a quiet sigh, grabbing the suitcase and one of the duffel bags.
"Let's go."
You followed him out carrying the other duffel bag, trying not to stare at the way his shoulders shifted under his shirt as he carried your things with ease. You locked the door behind you and trailed him down to the car.
When he opened the trunk and placed your bags inside, you leaned forward to peek in and froze.
The trunk was already half full.
You straightened and turned to him, eyebrows shooting up. "Are you serious? You judged me for my three bags but you've packed way more than me."
"Yes." he replied, closing the trunk. "But there's more than just clothes. There's my crutches and my wheelchair in the backseat. Then there's medical equipment in case any of us get hurt, my yoga stuff, camping equipment and some books."
You pressed your lips together, shaking your head and made your way to the passenger seat. You buckled your seatbelt and took Jack's phone in your hands, looking through Spotify for a decent song.
"Vámanos." Jack said, pulling the car out of the driveway.
You paused mid-scroll.
"You listen to Celia Cruz?"
Despite your surprise, you still tapped on 'La Vida Es Un Carnaval'.
"Hell yeah, I do." he said as the first notes of the salsa song filled the car.
Jack glanced over at you, an amused smirk tugging at his mouth. "Don't sound so shocked."
"I'm just saying," you replied, scrolling through the rest of his playlist. "This isn't exactly what I expected to find."
"Oh yeah?" he asked.
"Kinda thought you listened mainly to divorced dad rock like my dad."
He barked out a laugh at that, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm with the music. "I mean, kinda yeah. Robby and I listen to similar stuff."
There was a pause before he spoke again.
"My wife was Puerto Rican," he said simply. "She played this stuff constantly."
Something in his expression softened. "Said life was too short to listen to sad bastard music all the time."
You chuckled. "I mean…she wasn't wrong."
Jack snorted softly, glancing at you for a second before looking back at the road.
"No, " he murmured. "She usually wasn't."
"Good taste in music and men, huh." you said playfully, still scrolling through his playlists. "I like her."
"Well, I married her, so really this just proves that I've got good taste."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Jack." You chuckled.
"You wound me."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging on your lips lingered anyway.
You felt something shaking you lightly, pulling you from sleep. You groaned and swat blindly, your hand landing on a warm and solid surface. A quiet chuckle followed. You opened your eyes slowly, and you froze when you realized your hand was resting on Jack's chest.
You blinked slowly.
"What?"
"We're at a gas station." he started. "I'm refilling the tank. Thought you might want to stretch, use the restroom, maybe grab some snacks."
You rubbed your face, dragging your hands down in a sleepy manner. Nodding, you unfastened your seatbelt and made your way out of the car.
"Need anything?" you asked over your shoulder.
"If you can grab me some coffee or an energy drink, that'd be nice."
You hummed, making your way into the shop. Your movement were slow and sluggish, still half asleep. Checking your phone, you read that it was a little over ten AM.
You grabbed energy drinks and some snacks. Even though you had breakfast before you left, you were already hungry. Something about travelling always made you feel hungry.
You heard a low whistle, making you peek behind you with narrowed eyes. A guy who didn't seem that much older than you was checking you out, looking at you up and down.
"look at that ass."
You exhaled deeply, patience already gone. "Seriously, man? That's the best you've got?"
The guy quirked an eyebrow at your reaction as if you were the problem. "It's a compliment. No need to be a bitch about it."
"This bitch is telling you to fuck off now, so bye." you waved him off, but it seemed the guy took it the wrong way and stepped forward.
Before you could snap at him again, you felt a presence behind you, which you recognized as Jack from the smell of his expensive cologne. His hand came on your hip, his thumb brushing once in a grounding manner, and his chest pressed into your back.
"Everything's alright, darling?" he murmured, breath hitting your ear.
Your breath hitched.
You glanced toward him, but his attention wasn't on you. His head was slightly tilted down while he glared at the man in front of you. The guy huffed and backed off, deciding it wasn't worth it.
"Thank you." you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I hate how men don't take the hint except if another man gets involved."
Jack didn't answer at first, still staring at the retreating figure of the other guy with a tight expression.
"I can't say I understand," he said after a second. "But I'm glad I was here."
You pressed your lips together. Clearing your throat, you switched topic. "Do we need anything else?" you asked, looking down at your arms full of supplies. Jack looked down, observing what you had brought.
"I think you've got us covered." He answered. "We're nearly there and will go grocery shopping anyways."
You payed—or rather Jack did—for your articles and returned to the car.
It only took an hour and a half more to reach Kelleys Island.
It looked the same as it always did: the sun hung high and bright in the sky, there was no cloud in sight and the weather warm. There were only a handful of people wandering in the street, but the lack of people didn't surprise you since it was lunchtime.
Instead of heading straight to the lake house, you and Jack stopped at The Village Pump, a small restaurant south of the island. After four hours on the road, you had no energy left to cook, and honestly, no desire to.
"god, that feels so good." you hummed after taking the first bite of your chicken breast sandwich. Even just as a passenger, the drive had drained you.
Across from you, Jack observed you with barely concealed amusement as he chewed on his own sandwich. "You'd think you haven't eaten in weeks with the way you're wolfing this down."
"You don't get it." you shook your head. "This—" you gestured dramatically to your food. "—is all I've been craving for weeks."
"Chicken breast sandwich and beer?" Jack chuckled. "They've got that in Pittsburgh too, y'know?"
"Yeah, but they don't have chicken breast sandwich and beer from Kelleys Island!"
Jack huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink."You're so dramatic."
His eyes flickered over you again, staring for a second too long before he spoke again. "Still don't understand how you came from Mike."
"Hey, that's a question for him and not for me." you shrugged, taking another oversized bite.
"Slow down, you're gonna choke."
"No, I'll be ok—"
Your words were cut off abruptly as you started coughing, the food going into the wrong pipe like he had warned you.
"Hey. Breathe."
You nodded, coughing a few more times before you finally managed to recover.
"See? what did I tell you?" he sighed in exasperation. He leaned toward you, rubbing your back gently.
"You're never letting this go, are you?" you rasped.
"Absolutely not."
His hand lingered on your back for a second longer than necessary before he finally pulled away.
"Your food isn't going anywhere," he started, settling back into his chair. "We've got all the time in the world, we're here for two weeks."
"And," he added with a faint smirk, "I'm pretty sure your dad would kill me if you died choking on a sandwich on my watch."
"Wow," you laughed weakly. "Good to know your main concern is getting away with murder charge."
"Honey, I'm a veteran and a doctor." he tilted his head to the side, locking his eyes with yours. "That doesn't scare me, I know how to get away with it."
Something warm twisted in your stomach at the look in his eyes. Jack had a way of holding eye contact that felt suffocating sometimes and it always made your pulse stutter.
"Definitely not a creepy thing to say when I'm gonna spend the next two weeks alone with you." you said flatly. "Was it your plan all along?"
"You caught me." He winked.
The gesture was simple but it made your heart start racing, heat rushing to your face—and probably elsewhere, too. God, it was only the first day and you were already struggling.
After nearly choking to death on your sandwich and stopping for groceries, you finally made it to the lake house at three p.m. The trip had felt endless, but the second you stepped inside, relief washed over you.
You dropped on the couch with a sigh as soon as Jack unlocked the door.
"Get up." He said, setting a few grocery bags down on the kitchen counter. "We still have to empty the trunk and put away the groceries."
"oh so you hate me?" you complained, throwing an arm over your eyes. "Do you enjoy torturing me?"
Jack only shook his head fondly at your antics.
"Once we're done, you can rest all you want." he said with a small smile. "Maybe even go for a swim?"
You shot up immediately, practically running out of the door.
"What are you waiting for? Hurry!"
He followed after you with a chuckle.
By the time you arrived at the lake, Jack had been in the water awhile.
You'd actually unpacked your bags for once, which was a miracle in itself. Normally, you'd live out your suitcase for the next two weeks and added to it whenever you went shopping. However, a burst of motivation hit you, and you decided to put everything away before you could lose it.
So now, finally free, you stepped onto the dock and found yourself stopping short at the sight of him.
Jack was swimming near the dock, salt and pepper hair slicked back and dripping onto sun-warmed skin. His prosthetic was abandoned near the dock steps, half-hidden beneath a towel, while Jack swam around. He hauled himself onto the dock with easy strength when he heard you approach, droplets running down his chest and muscles as he sat beside the ladder.
"You sure took your sweet time for someone so desperate to go for a swim." He called over his shoulder.
Then, he turned his head to look at you properly.
The words died on his tongue.
It was subtle, barely there, but you caught it in the way his eyes dragged downward before snapping back to your face. You saw his adam's apple move as he swallowed hard.
You'd been a little bolder when packing this year. The swimsuit definitely wasn't something you'd wear around your dad and brother, the fabric barely qualified as coverage. Jack's reaction and the way he was looking at you was definitely worth it.
You walked over slowly.
"Had the motivation to unpack." You answered calmly. "Figured I should take advantage of the opportunity before it disappeared."
"Jesus," Jack blinked at you in mock alarm. "Are you running a fever?"
You rolled your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your knee."oh, you think you're so funny."
"I know I am." He grinned up at you, mischief and amusement dancing in his eyes. His hand wrapped loosely around your calf, giving you a gentle squeeze before he let go.
You lowered yourself beside him, hoping he hadn't noticed in any way how your pulse picked up at his touch. You dipped your legs into the cool water and let out a sigh. "God, this is even better than I remembered."
"Yeah." He chuckled lightly, nodding in agreement. "It's definitely worth the four hour drive."
Jack pushed himself back into the lake in one smooth motion.
"You coming in?" he asked, staying close to the dock. "or are just gonna sit there looking pretty?"
You bit your lower lip, looking down at him.
"Maybe I'm just here to enjoy the view."
Jack's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"Mm, is that so?" a grin spread across his face slowly.
You observed him as he swam closer. You didn't know what you expected, but it was certainly not for him to reach forward for your wrist. You barely had time to react.
"Jack—"
He yanked.
You hit the water with a shriek.
"Jack!" You yelled his name as soon as you resurfaced, pushing your hair out of your face and glaring in his direction.
He was already laughing, head tipped back and shoulders shaking. "You should've seen your face!"
"oh, you're so dead."
You splashed him hard enough to get water in his mouth.
It was his turn to sputter, coughing a few times. He looked back at you, menace writing itself on his face. You tried to swim away before retaliation came, but you weren't quick enough. Jack caught you easily, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back against him as another laugh escaped your throat.
"Got you."
"Meh, you cheated," you accused with a giggle, squirming in his grip.
"You're just too slow." he replied, laughing.
The sound of his laughter, his breath brushing over your skin and his arms holding you close made your skin heat up. You stopped struggling and stayed still in his arms. Jack's arms loosened around you, giving you enough space to pull away if you wanted to, but he didn't let go completely either. His hands rested low against your back beneath the water.
You suddenly felt too aware of yourself, of him, of every point where your bodies touched.
Neither of you moved.
Slowly, you raised your arms around his neck. Your fingers drifted into the damp curls at the nape of his neck, and you felt him shiver as you played with them absentmindedly.
Jack went still, the teasing grin slowly fading from his face.
Your eyes dropped to his mouth before you could stop yourself, before you could remember the line and who he was to you. When you looked back up, he was already watching you.
"Sweetheart…" his voice came out quiet and soft, but threaded with warning. It was a dangerous game you were trying to play.
You swallowed.
"What?"
His thumb brushed slowly against your back. "You know what."
"Maybe I don't." You said lightly, sounding almost innocent but you both knew better.
Jack exhaled sharply through his nose, something close to a breathy laugh. "You always gotta push, huh."
"Don't act like you don't want this as much as I do."
His jaw tightened, his thumb on your back stalling for a second.
"That's not fair."
"No?" You tilted your head slightly. "Look me in the eye and tell me you haven't thought about it too."
You were met with silence.
Jack looked away, muttering a quiet 'fuck' under his breath and dragged a hand over his face.
"That's the problem." he admitted finally, his voice sounding rough. "I can't say it because I have thought about it."
Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, loud enough that you were almost convinced he could hear it.
"So what's stopping you?"
He looked back at you then, his expression tight with conflict. You could see the emotions battling inside him.
"You're Robby's kid."
"I'm twenty-six."
"Still, I'm his best friend."
"I'm not asking you to marry me, Jack."
"That somehow makes it worse, kid," he let out a rough chuckle. "Michael would kill me."
"You're assuming he'd find out." you said. "He doesn't have to know."
"I couldn't keep something like this from him."
You moved closer until your forehead brushing his.
"Tell me you don't want me." you whispered, your breath mingling with his. "Tell me you don't want me and I'll drop it. I'll never bring it up ever again."
Jack stared at you for a long moment, before he lifted his hand to cup your jaw. His touch was gentle but firm enough to make your stomach coil.
"You're doing this on purpose."
"Maybe…"
"You could have any man you want," he said softly, eyes flickering over your face, "but you had to go after your old man's best friend."
His thumb brushed your jaw before he tilted your face up, making your breath hitch.
"Is it truly what you want?" He asked, leaning forward until his forehead was resting against yours.
"yeah..." you whispered. "More than anything, more than I've ever wanted anyone."
The confession settled heavily between the two of you, adding to the already thick tension. You could practically see Jack thinking too hard, weighting every reason he should stop this before it went any further. He was stuck between wanting you and his loyalty to your dad as his best friend.
But he didn't pull away.
You were close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips, uneven and warm. The line was blurring, and a single shift could change everything.
Then his eyes dropped to your mouth.
That tiny shift shattered whatever restraint was left between you.
You closed the distance first.
The kiss was soft at first. His lips moved against yours slowly, almost hesitant, like he was still giving himself a chance to stop.
Then something shifted.
A quiet sound rumbled in his throat as his hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, fingers tangling into your damp hair before he pulled you closer.
The second kiss stole the air from your lungs. Hesitation fled out of the window, only to be replaced by hunger. All the restraint that had been hanging for months, maybe even longer, snapped all at once. Heat flooded your body instantly, pooling low in your belly. A small sound slipped from you against his mouth before you could stop it.
"Fuck," Jack breathed against your mouth, the word rough and wrecked.
Your tugged at the damp salt and pepper curls at the nape of his neck, stealing a groan from him that rushed straight to your core. You pressed yourself closer instinctively, your chest against his and leaving no space between you anymore.
His hands wandered your body with urgency, one firm hand holding your waist and the other lower at your back. He needed to feel you, to have you closer.
"Get on the dock," he croaked.
You pulled back slowly, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes and your breath uneven. The look on his face sent heat spiralling through your body; desire heavy in his gaze, barely contained now that the line had finally been crossed.
You climbed out first, water dripping from your body and onto the wooden boards, then reached back for him. Jack took your hand, hauling himself up with practised ease.
The second he was beside you again, his hands found your waist and he guided you backward gently until you were laying against the warm wood of the dock. He followed immediately, bracing himself above you carefully, mindful of his weightnto not crush you.
His hand found your face again, fingers moving over your skin with tenderness. He brushed damp strands of hair away from your forehead before his touch drifted down your cheek and finally paused at your mouth. His thumb tugged lightly at your bottom lip. You caught it teasingly between your lips, tongue darting out to taste the pad of it.
Jack's breath hitched. "Fuck…" he rasped.
He slowly pulled his thumb from your mouth, his gaze fixed on yours as he dragged his fingers over your jaw. Then his touch drifted lower, tracing the line of your neck with deliberate slowness, drawing a shiver from you.
"Look at you…" he murmured under his breath, like the sight of you alone was enough to unravel him. His gaze wandered over you openly, no longer hiding how much he craved you.
"You're so beautiful." he whispered before capturing your lips again, with much more hunger than before.
His hands settled at your hips as his thigh slid carefully between yours, the pressure sending a sharp wave of heat through your body. Your hips jerked up, grinding against him in search of relief for the ache building low in your stomach. A rough groan vibrated against your lips at the movement, his grip tightening on your hips.
"There…" he said in-between kisses, voice rough with want. "You wanted me, yeah?"
"So much." you replied breathlessly.
Something in his eyes darkened.
"Well," he said softly, brushing his lips against yours again, "take what you need, sweetheart. I'm all yours."
You blinked, hesitating for only a second, before pressing a hand to his shoulder and gently pushing.
Jack let you guide him onto his back without protest, his eyes never leaving yours as your positions shifted. You settled over him slowly, thighs bracketing his hips while your hands spread across his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your palms.
You rolled your hips tentatively, watching the way Jack's lips parted as he let out a shaky exhale.
"yeah," he purred. "just like that.."
The sound of his voice strained and wanting sent another rush of heat through you. Encourage by the way he reacted, by the firm grip of his hands guiding your hips, you moved again with more confidence this time, letting go of the last of your hesitation.
"Jack.." his name left your mouth in a whine, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders. You felt his hands tighten on your hips, pressing you down onto his hard length.
"You're doing so good." he panted, his lips parted and swollen red. "That's it, take what you need."
You whimpered as your pace quickened, pleasure tightening low in your stomach. You kept your eyes locked on Jack's, listening to every strained breath that left him, every quiet grunt that slipped past his parted lips with each rolls of your hips.
"f—fuck." Jack grunted, guiding you faster. One of his hands slid lower to your ass cheek, squeezing hard enough to draw a gasp from you before he gave a sharp slap that sent another jolt of heat through your body. "Just like that."
It seemed that it was all it took to send you over the edge. Your hips stuttered as pleasure crashed over you, your body trembling as you came apart above him. Jack swore under his breath at the sight of you, his hands gripping you tighter as he followed moments later with a strained groan, calling your name.
You let yourself collapse on top of him, chest heaving as Jack's arms wrapped securely around your waist. For a long moment afterwards, neither of you spoke nor moved.
The only sounds left were your uneven breaths and the quiet water lapping against the dock beneath you.
Then, Jack pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a second longer than necessary.
"You did so good," he praised in a murmur, voice rough.
The praise made you smile, a feeling of satisfaction and affection settling in your chest.
You stayed curled against him, listening to the uneven rhythm of his breathing slowly steadying beneath your ear. The world narrowed to the warmth of his body, the lake breeze against your damp skin, and the lingering aftershock still humming through you.
Neither of you pretended this had been a mistake.
Neither of you pretended this was just a moment you could walk away from.
There was only you and him.
An empty house waiting a few meters away.
And two weeks where neither of you were going to act like the tension between you didn't exist anymore.
