[ the positions of their hands end up swapping, funnily enough. as jack lifts his highers, rhys goes lower until he has both of his arms wrapped around jack's waist and his hands loosely clasped together against his back. he feels the heat of chest against chest, crotch against crotch and while he doesn't push for me, the closeness enough really does make something in him ache.

he's still mouthing at jack's throat even as jack speaks and rhys can feel the vibrations under his mouth, enough to make him grin against the skin. he noses lightly under jack's ear as he mumbles, mind mercifully blank for once despite knowing that once this ends -- which it will end, because jack never lets him get too far -- he'll have to get to work. still, there's plenty of time for him to be a bit, uh, indulgent. ]

Who else would it be?

[ go ahead and try and convince him otherwise, jack. he's just going to go back to kissing then, teeth digging a little rougher and mouth pulling a bit more firmly against the skin. there's no possible way this isn't going to leave a mark, the way rhys is working at him, but that just pleases rhys really. no matter what, tomorrow people are going to look at jack and see his skin and know someone put it there. they'll probably know it was him that put it there. fucking nice, honestly. it makes rhys want to --

well, it makes rhys want jack to think it's nice too. his hands slide down then to grab jack's ass, pulling him roughly against his hips as he bites down harsher than before on his throat and growls out low against his skin. ]

Fuck, you're hot, dude. Never met someone so perfectly sculpted, want to put my mouth on you for hours. Holy shit. You're mine, babe. You know that, right? Mine.

[ really, the more the seconds pass, the more the aggression ticks up little by little. he should probably stop, right? he should definitely stop. he isn't stopping. ]