Jack's lips pulls against Chase's, corner tugging into a small smirk as the younger boy crawls into his lap and contently straddles him. His hands drift, one finding the hem of Chase's t-shirt, slipping under the edge at his hip to trace along to the small of his back, dull nail of his thumb scraping against the ridges of his spine. The other smoothes down his side, over his thigh, and the curve of his ass until he grips the muscle and pulls him forward firmly.
His hips rise, grinding up against Chase's pelvis as he drags him closer, and tilts his head to deepen the kiss, lips parting and tongue pressing to slide along Chase's with a soft groan. He likes him much better like this. Quiet. Fairly obedient. In a state where Chase's wickedness actually pays off in Jack's favor.
He looks good this way too, sitting pretty and eager on Jack's thighs, leaning into him like he's drinking up the attention Jack's granting him like air. There's no doubt in how Jack finds Chase something completely fucked up, but he's messed up in such a beautiful way. Twisted in just the right ways that Jack can feel resonance in, can feel a vicarious kind of dark indulgence in, quietly and separated from. His head dips, finding Chase's throat, and his teeth scrape the skin before his lips do much more than brush against the pulse point.
Biting down against him, the whisper of softness from before has evaporated, and now there's just something possessive and dominating uncurling in Jack's chest, as he sucks up a mark against Chase's neck. He knows the witch can easily clear it up whenever he pleases, and perhaps that's why Jack's determined to make new ones each time. His fingers at Chase's back curl, digging into his skin and leaving red crescents as evidence of his touch.
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His hips rise, grinding up against Chase's pelvis as he drags him closer, and tilts his head to deepen the kiss, lips parting and tongue pressing to slide along Chase's with a soft groan. He likes him much better like this. Quiet. Fairly obedient. In a state where Chase's wickedness actually pays off in Jack's favor.
He looks good this way too, sitting pretty and eager on Jack's thighs, leaning into him like he's drinking up the attention Jack's granting him like air. There's no doubt in how Jack finds Chase something completely fucked up, but he's messed up in such a beautiful way. Twisted in just the right ways that Jack can feel resonance in, can feel a vicarious kind of dark indulgence in, quietly and separated from. His head dips, finding Chase's throat, and his teeth scrape the skin before his lips do much more than brush against the pulse point.
Biting down against him, the whisper of softness from before has evaporated, and now there's just something possessive and dominating uncurling in Jack's chest, as he sucks up a mark against Chase's neck. He knows the witch can easily clear it up whenever he pleases, and perhaps that's why Jack's determined to make new ones each time. His fingers at Chase's back curl, digging into his skin and leaving red crescents as evidence of his touch.