"Fuck," Chase's hips buck at the feel of teeth on his throat, and one of his hands abandons the wall to fist in Jack's hair. It doesn't tug him anywhere yet, but his grip isn't gentle either, like he wants Jack to know he's not about to let him stop and pull away before he's gotten his fill of sensation. His head drops back to give Jack better access to his neck, and he starts rocking slightly, steadily, in the prince's lap. Jack likes control, that's fine, that's whatever. Chase is just greedy: he wants to feel everything, and he always wants it fast and hard and all at once. Usually the way to get that is to push his way on top and take it, but Jack gets so testy about that sort of thing.

His other hand drops down off the wall and slithers back between them, where he begins tugging at the front of Jack's shirt to pull it out from under where his own thighs have pinned it, so he can start to maneuver it up and over his head. It's not like Jack has anything there that he hasn't seen before, but he still appreciates the view every time, and it's his wont to feel skin on skin, warm and slicked with exertion. He could just magic it all off, but he's still buzzed from playing with Jack's rings earlier and this feels good too. Almost more real, somehow.

He bites his lip, where Jack's teeth were a second ago. "Come on," his voice is already rough, abs flexing as he rolls his hips back and forth in minute circles over Jack's pelvis, trying to coax the prince into hardness beneath his weight. He's young and impatient and horny, and Jack always seems to know what he's doing. Here, out there, even though he's so painfully normal by comparison - it's something Chase admires, and Chase so rarely admires anything about anyone that isn't himself. He frees Jack's shirt out from under himself, leaning reluctantly back away from Jack's nice teeth so he can bunch the fabric in his fist and start to pull, but has to stop when it catches beneath his arms. "You've got too many clothes, too."