[ It's quite alright, he can wait. It gives him a minute to look Irving over, eyea boring into him, stroke his chin in some no-good thought of his own.
"Do not waste your time attempting to seduce me."
Do not tell Jack Rackham what he can and can't do. This man is going to suck his dick, or he's going to pass out from excitement at the opportunity.
His tongue slips subtlely, but not too subtle, from his mouth to wet his lips, and when it returns to his mouth it's slightly ajar, his whole face slowly, calculatingly softening. His neck tilts off to one side, and then the other, stretching, waiting. Relaxing. Giving Irving more time to season whatever fantasy he's cooking up in there. ]
A lie of omission is still a lie, isn't it?
[ Slowly, as to not jostle his mark or call undue attention their way, he stands, and reseats himself on the edge of the table, on Irving's side. Close enough that Irving could touch him, should the desire to do so suddenly creep up. Jack's voice lowers to suit this new distance, and keeps only enough of its harder edges to be exciting, interested rather than confrontational. He swallows slowly, loosening him up enough to continue in a private, dangerous purr: ]
Be honest with me. [ Jack blinks, and when he opens his eyes again, he seeks Irving's, prolonging a look between them for as long as the other will allow. ] I want you...to tell me the truth, John. Not another soul has to hear it.
no subject
"Do not waste your time attempting to seduce me."
Do not tell Jack Rackham what he can and can't do. This man is going to suck his dick, or he's going to pass out from excitement at the opportunity.
His tongue slips subtlely, but not too subtle, from his mouth to wet his lips, and when it returns to his mouth it's slightly ajar, his whole face slowly, calculatingly softening. His neck tilts off to one side, and then the other, stretching, waiting. Relaxing. Giving Irving more time to season whatever fantasy he's cooking up in there. ]
A lie of omission is still a lie, isn't it?
[ Slowly, as to not jostle his mark or call undue attention their way, he stands, and reseats himself on the edge of the table, on Irving's side. Close enough that Irving could touch him, should the desire to do so suddenly creep up. Jack's voice lowers to suit this new distance, and keeps only enough of its harder edges to be exciting, interested rather than confrontational. He swallows slowly, loosening him up enough to continue in a private, dangerous purr: ]
Be honest with me. [ Jack blinks, and when he opens his eyes again, he seeks Irving's, prolonging a look between them for as long as the other will allow. ] I want you...to tell me the truth, John. Not another soul has to hear it.
[ Like knives dipped in honey. ]