Adam watches Jack as he reads over some file or another. In truth, he watches him rather a lot. It's a habit after too long of waiting in quiet places. Planning an ambush from a tree; watching the stars on a ship while his crew sleeps below the deck he paces; waiting in a cell wondering which of his captors can be turned with the right word, the right smile. If told he was doing it, he probably would dismiss it, but most of the time he's unaware.
Now, he turns the scrutiny on Jack, taking in the way his hair falls over his forehead, the faint pucker of a frown between his brows, the way his lips occasionally move as he reads. He watches his fingers, the way they hold the paper, the way a pen taps between them. His eyes narrow when Jack catches his lower lip between teeth just for a moment, watching when it's released.
It still feels odd to initiate contact simply for contact. With Elle it had been a tactic, a plot, part of a scheme. To just reach out for another person who is just there, for him, in such a casual situation makes him nervous. It's new, he thinks, a left over symptom of too long in a cage. He remembers when touching was second nature, when reaching out for what he wanted was like breathing. Now he has to talk himself up to it, and part of him hates that. He's stronger than that. He's older, he's wiser, nothing should linger from those decades like they would for a lesser man.
So he stands, crossing the room, determined to push aside those lingering reservations.
"You work too hard," he says, resting his hands on his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to his neck, then spins his chair around, scattering the paper, as Jack looks up, surprised and amused.
"Says the man who wants to rule the world?" he asks, a bit sardonic, and Adam's glad they can at least pretend to joke about it.
"There's a time and a place," Adam says, all seriousness.
"And what time is this...?" Jack's voice takes on a teasing note, that makes Adam half smile. He leans down, letting his lips cover Jack's, soft at first, then with more hunger, until the kiss is nearly demanding. After a very long time, he pulls back, breathless, letting his smile grow.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-12-14 06:55 pm (UTC)Now, he turns the scrutiny on Jack, taking in the way his hair falls over his forehead, the faint pucker of a frown between his brows, the way his lips occasionally move as he reads. He watches his fingers, the way they hold the paper, the way a pen taps between them. His eyes narrow when Jack catches his lower lip between teeth just for a moment, watching when it's released.
It still feels odd to initiate contact simply for contact. With Elle it had been a tactic, a plot, part of a scheme. To just reach out for another person who is just there, for him, in such a casual situation makes him nervous. It's new, he thinks, a left over symptom of too long in a cage. He remembers when touching was second nature, when reaching out for what he wanted was like breathing. Now he has to talk himself up to it, and part of him hates that. He's stronger than that. He's older, he's wiser, nothing should linger from those decades like they would for a lesser man.
So he stands, crossing the room, determined to push aside those lingering reservations.
"You work too hard," he says, resting his hands on his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to his neck, then spins his chair around, scattering the paper, as Jack looks up, surprised and amused.
"Says the man who wants to rule the world?" he asks, a bit sardonic, and Adam's glad they can at least pretend to joke about it.
"There's a time and a place," Adam says, all seriousness.
"And what time is this...?" Jack's voice takes on a teasing note, that makes Adam half smile. He leans down, letting his lips cover Jack's, soft at first, then with more hunger, until the kiss is nearly demanding. After a very long time, he pulls back, breathless, letting his smile grow.
"Mine."