#partially inspired by the really cool steak knife I saw last night lol

[shejustcalledmeafish]

John Hart + 59 (absolutely no pressure but I hope this inspires you! <33)

59. "You never had the best ideas."

John had been in tight spots with Jack before, but going on three hours, and with still no sign of the manhunt above the floorboards ceasing, it was going from sexy to much less than. The hollow beneath the loose floorboard had only been designed to hold one, but John’d had no qualms about forcing himself down on top of Jack, squishing tight and leaving Jack with no choice but to allow it or else give away both their positions.

Not that Jack would have given him away. Strange as it was, Jack actually seemed to like him again. He’d agreed to come with on John’s assassination contract for a particularly fiendish demagogue, happy to make a date night out of infiltrating their gala. John was still waiting for the catch.

The first few minutes had been enjoyable. Jack had kissed him, quietly, tongue inevitably tasting the blood splattered over his lips but never recoiling. John could feel him hard against his thigh, and wished they had the room to maneuver, just enough to move a few layers of fabric and slide together even closer. But they had to settle for a lazy and very quiet rutting, never enough to come. They could have, but they both knew how unrestrained the other could be, and with heavy footsteps still racing above them, they eventually gave up in favor of simply waiting.

John was so tired of waiting. He’d never been patient, and having a hot, ready, and willing Jack beneath him he couldn’t finish off was not helping his oft-missing virtue. The traffic above had died down slowly as the demagogue’s forces had decided the assassin must have made it out of the building. But there was still several corpses, and John knew that violence on this level would attract a lot more than coroners. They would have to either wait longer for the initial investigation to die down, or take the risk of not being able to take down whatever police were still waiting for them.

“You know,” Jack said, so quiet John felt more than heard the words in the vibrations from his throat. John unashamedly had his head curled on Jack’s shoulder and had for a while. “I did say we should have gone with my plan.” John rolled his eyes.

“Bursting in guns-akimbo may work for you, immortal man, but you saw the security. My way was much neater.” John really thought it had been elegant. He hadn’t been able to bring any weaponry in, even their vortex manipulators had to be left behind. Time Agents were very much persona non-grata in this regime. But John had hacked in and made a very important change to the menu, and it had been easy to liberate his and Jack’s light but sharp steak knives that the catering had provided. He still had one, tucked inside his coat, and he was going to keep it. Lovely blade.

Point being, once inside, the guards were a lot less wary about weaponry. No one noticed a missing knife or two as the caterers rolled away their dish carts, and when the party moved onto the dance floor, it had been all too easy to send Jack to introduce his alias to the demagogue, and for John to step up behind them and slit their throat.

They hadn’t meant for anyone else to die but it all got a bit violent after that. All John did, at Jack’s request, was run. He left the murder weapon in one guard’s shoulder but then they had made it into the antechamber with the window that was supposed to be ajar. Sometimes attentive household staff were the bane of his existence. But he hadn’t extensively researched the manor for nothing, and here they were, snug as two murderous bugs in a floorboard.

“I’m just saying,” Jack said. “This was a pretty weak back-up plan.” John jabbed him in the gut and Jack let out a weak oof.

“You can let up on the insults until I can kill you properly,” John said sweetly. “I’d do it now, but you’d stink and give the whole game away.”

“How generous,” Jack teased, and turned his head to kiss John. As if to reassure him he didn’t mean it. John still found that strange.

“Like you would have done much different,” John mumbled before much longer had passed. He couldn’t actually see Jack’s face, but he could almost feel his surprise. Perks of knowing each other so long and so deeply. “You never had the best ideas.”

For a few moments too long, Jack didn’t respond, and John started to panic despite himself. He’d given himself rules for when Jack had decided to want him again, rules of how not to mess it up. Insults were a big one. He had no way of knowing when he would cross the line that made Jack decide he was no longer worth it, and so he had to play it safe. But it was uncomfortably warm and tight and as any good narration would have previously mentioned, John was not a patient person. Irritation made it that much harder to be good.

“You’re right,” Jack said, and John nearly choked on his next breath. “This does seem like exactly the kind of stunt we would have pulled back in the day after one of my plans.” John was deeply relieved Jack wouldn’t be able to see the smile that broke on his lips.

“Throwback, hm?” he purred instead, nuzzling into Jack’s neck and willing his heartbeat to steady itself.

“But now we’re older and ever more patient.”

“Not that patient,” John added, pressing a light kiss to Jack’s jaw. Jack gripped him tighter.

“No, not that patient.” One hand slipped between them, rubbing teasingly over John’s crotch. “I think we can take them. What do you say?” God, John needed to keep Jack between his thighs until they both reached some higher plain, and that required being back on their ship with no one to disturb them and out of this hole.

“Oh, you know I can take anything,” John promised. Then he pulled a maneuver he really hoped would go as fluidly as the action movie vibes demanded. He pushed upward, tossing the loose floorboard aside, then took hold of Jack, and forced him up to stand as he rolled down and took the space once occupied by Jack’s legs. “Let’s see if you can, lover.”

Jack looked at him, insulted, but only for a second before leaping out of the hole and running with a scream at the nearest adversary. John slipped the knife out of his coat, waited for a pause in the gunfire, then followed after. It would be far too unfair to let Jack have all the fun after all.