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“G– God, shit , Sportsy—” Dave's breaths came out jagged and rough and heaving as Jack's hand slid expertly up and down his embarrassingly hard cock, twisting and pulling in every way that Jack knew made Dave melt in his hands the way he was now.
From behind him, Jack sat against the headboard of their shared bed— “ It's not gay if we say 'no homo,'” he recalls Dave saying after they rented their hotel room— reaching around to stroke Dave; gentle touches, then rough, quick pumps.
Helplessly, Dave thrust his hips into the touch, eyes half-lidded before they screwed shut completely at the feeling of something warm pooling in his stomach. He couldn't help the way his body moved, greedily trying to get as much of Jack's touch as humanly (ironic) possible. It was as pathetic as it was cute, Jack thought with a sly half-smirk. They'd done this enough that he'd learned, for one, how easy it was to get Dave the mess that he was now, and for two, how to make Dave into the mess that he was now.
“What, that feel good?” Jack teased, grinning a little wider at the whimper he drew from Dave's throat in response.
“F– fuck, shit , yeah. Keep goin',” he panted, one hand gripping Jack and the other held against his mouth. Both he and Jack knew how pathetic he sounded; begging between moans, whimpering at even the lightest grazes. The last thing he needed right now was to overthink on it, and what better way to keep that from happening than to stop it completely?
But, of course, Jack wouldn't allow that.
Quickly, as if this wasn't the first time (and really, who's to say it was?), Jack's free hand gripped Dave's wrist and pried it away with ease. Dave may have height, but Jack has strength.
“Ah. Unless you want me to stop, you better keep that hand away. I wanna hear you,” Jack's voice, which had gotten huskier as the man had grown more aroused, made electricity shoot through Dave's veins and drop straight down to where Jack's hand was currently moving. Dave could only grunt in response, mind too focused on how horribly sexy that demand was to make much protest. Oh, and also Jack's hand around his dick. That was distracting too.
Dave bit down harshly on his lip at the feeling of Jack moving down to his slightly scarred neck to kiss along it, moving down as much as he could with Dave's shirt still in the way. Of course, neither had bothered to fully undress. When they needed something, especially something like this , they needed it bad. Besides, it's not like their clothes needed to be off anyways. They could get off on each other fully clothed if they had to.
Dave could feel adrenaline thrumming in his veins, making it hard for him to think. That must've been why he didn't stop himself from requesting something a little.. more.
“Sh– shit.. Sportsy– Jack– fuck, could you—” it was getting increasingly harder to speak between moans, “could you k– keep talkin'? Shit, fuck..” he groaned, pushing his hand back through his sticky-with-sweat hair now that Jack had freed his hand.
The request took Jack by surprise, given that whenever they did something like this, Dave usually kept it simple. He knew Dave was a freak, of course, and also extremely into him (although, he wasn't sure that Dave was aware of the fact that Jack very much knew), but never had he made a request like that. Even through his surprise, Jack's answer was immediate.
He chuckled low, the sound coming from the very back of his throat. “You like it when I talk to you like this, Davey? When I tell you how good you are for me?” He grinned at the groan he earned in response, “God, you're a mess. All for me, too,” he watches with satisfaction as that sentence in particular earns a shudder from the man who's, at this point, practically grinding into him.
Speaking of, his eyes quickly catch sight of Dave's hips moving faster, more desperately, a very clear sign that he's horribly close. Something about him getting off so easily from Jack's words alone makes the latter feel what he imagines is akin to pride.
“Fuck, 'm close,” Dave mumbles breathlessly, confirming Jack's prior thoughts.
“Already? God, Dave, you really are easy. So close already just from me talking to you like this,” he just barely slows his strokes in favor of closing his fist a little tighter around Dave's cock, “You love it when I say shit like this to you, huh?”
Dave nodded far too eagerly, too caught up in how close he was to really care about how embarrassing it was. It's not like Jack minded it either. Seeing Dave give in and melt so easily always seemed to do the trick in giving Jack a raging boner. He'd have to take care of that later. For now, he'll debate on whether or not Dave will get to join him in said "later."
It only took a few more harsh pumps before Dave shuddered horribly, body stilling as he released a heavy breath of Jack's name and came into his hand. He slowly stroked Dave throughout it, coaxing him through his high until he was able to come down from it. Jack was incredibly thankful that this was a reach-around, as he was not fond of the idea of getting his clothes stained.. again. Hey, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, alright?
Jack waited until Dave's labored breathing slowed back to normal to fully remove his hand, a look of very slight disgust on his face as he looked around for something to wipe it off with. He settled on picking up a random sock that he'd question the prior whereabouts of later, cleaning off his hand with it and tossing it back onto the floor.
“You okay?” Jack asked, voice mostly back to its normal tone. Dave nodded in response, “Shit.. yeah. Thanks, Sportsy,” he flashed a grin, though his flushed face and messy hair made it seem a lot less cheekier than usual.
“Don't mention it. Seriously, don't.” His words were firm, but his smile gave away the fact that he was joking. Dave chuckled in response.
Jack talked to Dave until the other fell asleep, having decided that they'd have to do something more mutually beneficial another time. It felt too soon now, is all.
Jack waited until he was sure that Dave was sleeping to slip into the bathroom to take care of his own problem. It looked like Dave wouldn't be joining him... not this time around, anyway.
All Jack could think about as he tugged off his belt was how easy it was to make Dave completely give in to him. And only him. Nobody else had the grip on Dave that Jack did. Nobody else saw him the ways Jack did. Of course, their feelings and the question of "what are they" went unspoken. They didn't need to be spoken, because they both understood the core of their relationship.
They were partners in every conceivable way.