A/N: Another update! This is likely the last one before my summer ends. I'm still happy I managed to get myself to write so much, and I'm hoping that it'll continue through even once I'm back in university. If everything goes according to plan in my outline, there should only be three or four chapters left. Please stick around to see the fic through, and I thank everyone who is still reading! -gives cookies-
This chapter's title is from a song by Voltaire!
10th Arrangement: All The Way Down
A letter came by in the middle of the next morning.
"It's from Arthur," Glen affirmed to quell Jack's anxiety. "He says he'll be by noon - very soon then, that's good." He frowned as he read on.
"What is it?"
Glen shook his head. "He's requesting the accompaniment of his relative. Apparently he's a man well-versed in these matters and could be of use to us."
Jack also frowned. "These matters?"
"The occult. Arthur's words, not mine."
"The occult?" Abyss was found between the pages of fairy tales. What was occult about it? Jack considered then the possession, and understood. If barely any information could come up about that, then maybe Arthur's relative would know something that couldn't be found in just any book. And on the off chance Arthur didn't know anything about the symbol tattooed on him, that could be something else soon known to them.
Glen folded the letter up. "Be prepared for their arrival. Any questions you have, get them ready."
There was only one question Jack had, but he doubted Arthur or his relative would know. Nodding, he excused himself from the hall and started roaming the corridors. Glen needed time to get his kingly affairs in order before meeting with anyone, and Jack... He needed to dig through his memories.
What he remembered the night he was branded was painful, as if it was physically scorched into his memory. Even so, he couldn't remember the one crucial detail of how that second tattoo had ended up on his body. All those years, Jack just assumed he received it that night as well. But no one else had it.
Jack wandered outside into the courtyard. The last rays of warm summer sun spilled from the sky, the flowers taking in their final drops before the chill of autumn started settling in. Jack watched them sway in the breeze, and he weaved between dazzling bushes of vibrant roses, rows of blushing tulips and sunflowers. Several stone benches were set to the sides of the bricked path, and Jack plopped down onto one, hoping the sun and blooms around would soothe him somehow.
Hands idle, Jack brushed his hair over his shoulder and took out the tie. As of late, he hadn't been braiding the long strands together, which proved useful now to keep his hands busy. And as he started braiding, he examined his memories again.
Come to think of it, Jack hadn't noticed the second tattoo on his thigh until a bath the next day. While it had certainly stung his skin, making it tender to the touch, it hand't been red and puffy like the one beneath his naval. At the time, Jack chalked it off as maybe the ink or needle being different. Could it be his assumption was wrong?
Of course, there was always the chance that the man who had inked him was just some occultist lunatic. Jack cracked a smile at the thought. Only a moment after, he tugged at his hair a little more, shaking his head. "This isn't a laughing matter."
"What isn't?"
Jack jumped, turning around. On the other side of the bush stood Glen, heavy cloak around his shoulders and looking every bit as regal even among the flowers, if not more so.
"Glen," Jack turned to him more fully. "What are you doing out here? I thought you'd have something to attend to?"
"Gilbert is out of practice," Glen explained, looking down and brushing a red rose's petals with his fingertips. "Since there seem to be no urgent matters to attend to for the kingdom, I've made him my proxy for a few hours."
Jack wanted to ask if that was really alright, given the tribulation between the two the past few days. Instead, he made room on his bench and asked, "If you have time, then maybe you would like to sit for a bit? This isn't how I usually lose myself, but..."
Glen nodded, and went around the bush to sit next to Jack. Seeing the graceful way he seated himself, back straight and hands folded neatly at his lap, Jack felt sloppy in comparison, and straightened up a bit too before continuing to braid his hair. He fell into a steady rhythm, weaving his hair in and out between his fingers.
"Why did you decide to grow your hair out?"
The question was one Jack was familiar with. His hair was very long, even by the standard of a woman, and the reason why wasn't one he could exactly place until much later. After his mother died, he could hardly think to keep up with appearances; things like that didn't matter until he started whoring himself out, and even then he had grown fond of his long hair.
Of course, he'd never let anyone know that. Without missing a beat, Jack said, "I've been growing out for some years. Maybe a year or two before Ada was born."
Glen's gaze fell down to Jack's weaving fingers. "Lacie never liked her hair to be tied back in any way. She liked her it loose and never wanted to put on her dresses."
Jack chuckled. "She sounds like a free spirit. Ada herself is a very obedient child. She likes it when I play with her hair." His smile died down a bit, shrugging. "Well, she probably just likes any attention I can give her."
"May I?" Glen gestured for Jack's braid, which was more than halfway done.
Although surprised, Jack handed over the strands of his hair. "Do you know how?" he asked belatedly, only because of what Glen just said about Lacie.
"I did say Lacie didn't like this sort of thing. It didn't stop me from learning how; it's just the thing you pick up with a little sister, isn't it?" Glen took the strands and divided them up as Jack had had them. The look of concentration on his face as he struggled to remember how to braid was amusing to Jack, who tried not to laugh.
"Lacie would ask I do a number of things for her, all the time. It never truly annoyed me. Sometimes I do wonder... She'd be well past her twentieth year. Would she still be amused by anything I did for her?"
Glen's fingers, surprisingly slender and nimble, got a grasp at the movements and were soon continuing along with the plait. He tugged harder than Jack but not painfully so - it was probably from nerves - making the strands tighter where he braided them. As if he was aware of it, he glanced at Jack in question, who nodded in encouragement. It was strange to have someone else's fingers in his hair - Glen, King of Sablier's fingers no less. Charlotte and Gilbert both would probably burst a vein just at the sight. If no one was around though, surely there couldn't be too much harm in it.
Right?
"Well, that's one thing you have to look forward to, right?" Jack pointed out in relation to Glen's musings. "Getting to know each other again will be quite the adventure. And if she's your sister, then no matter how much of a free spirit she is, she must love you still after all these years."
"It's never occurred to me if she would or not..."
At the last second, Jack was able to stop himself from lightly slapping Glen's cheek. Instead, he made to pat his shoulder. "I didn't make you nervous, now did I?"
Not saying anything, Glen reached the final few inches and stopped. "Is this alright?"
"It is. You'll make the princess very proud." Jack made to tie it off when Glen plucked the band from Jack's lap and did it himself. Stunned, Jack could do nothing but watch. "Ah, thank you, Glen."
The end of the golden plait laid in Glen's loose fist, almost as if he were caressing it. The gesture triggered once more the feelings Jack had been experiencing with Glen lately.
If there was a delicate way to voice his question, Jack couldn't come up with it. Instead, he hoped being direct would leave less room for debate. Taking his hair back to toss over his shoulder, Jack said, "You allow us to be very familiar with each other. It's inappropriate, and you know it."
Glen squinted at Jack, but not unkindly. "You're helping me find Lacie. There's no room for formalities."
"As you keep saying," Jack agreed. "But then, you do things like halt your duties to find my siblings. You're always close to me, touching too much and your gaze is..." His throat clenched around the stream of words.
"It's inappropriate," Glen supplied for him. There wasn't a hint of a question - Glen knew what he'd been doing the entire time. "Do you dislike it?"
Part of Jack tried to convince him to run a joke about it, but if he did that, another part of him said that wouldn't be fair to Glen. Fairness was what Glen deserved, nothing less. And it wasn't as if Jack was a stranger in dealing with a situation like they were in.
If he had to be fair, then his answer would be, "No." Jack shook his head slightly. "I don't dislike it. I'm very unused to it though, and then to have you of all people do it..."
Glen glanced toward the roses beside them. "Would you like to become accustomed to it?"
Jack wished he could run. All he was though was pinned to the bench next to Glen, watching his every move. If he could focus hard enough, maybe those words hadn't been spoken at all, and were a part of some delirium of his.
He couldn't stop himself from making light of it. "You needn't fret so much. Your effort will only make you feel exhausted in the end once I leave."
"Must you?"
Ah. Stop looking at me with those eyes. "I can't imagine anything to the contrary once you're reunited with Lacie. She'll give you all the happiness to fill up the past eighteen years."
"Jack." Glen's hand splayed over Jack's thigh, his thumb just brushing against the spot the tattoo was. "I want you to stay here, in the castle. Whatever is happening with Jetrose, it sounds as if very soon that organization will be dragging its name further into darkness. If you stayed here, you wouldn't have to worry about what would happen to Oz or Ada."
From the hand on his thigh to the refined gleam of Glen's eyes, Jack wouldn't understand why he wished he could redo his life. Maybe by retracing back, erasing some mistakes that wouldn't leave permanent evidence on his skin, he could be the kind of man that wouldn't want to refuse the king's generosity. As it was, Glen was trying to seduce the heart of a whore.
"Why are you doing this?" Jack asked. "Why are you going this far, offering to stay with you in a castle?" Why are you trying to save me?
Glen moved closer. Jack hoped he wouldn't do it. All he could think was that it was going to be over as soon as they touched. His stain would be on Glen, marked forever too. Jack's touch did that.
I could've been the man to deserve this. Pretty words, hopeful wishes, and in the end Jack knew it was a lie.
Glen's kiss was like sunshine on his lips. On bodily impulse, Jack responded because it had after all been such a long time since he'd been touched. He pressed back, and Glen did too. On impulse, he opened up his mouth inviting him inside as Glen's lips closed around his probing tongue. Warm and soft - Jack could tell that Glen had never kissed another before. Not like this.
He'd taste of summer wine and roses. The thought hadn't left Jack for more than a second before he pulled away.
Excuses wouldn't come to him, everything was frozen on his tongue, unable to pass his tingling lips. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd risen from the bench, but he went along with it, unable to stop. Turning away from Glen, not even pausing to glance at his expression, Jack walked back to the castle.
Glen said his name once, and Jack broke into a run. Past the rows and rows of blindingly colorful flowers and the too-warm sun. He didn't want to touch any of it.
He barreled through the corridors, going wherever his feet took him. Maybe if he was unsure of where he was going, then Glen would too. But after turning down one hallway, Jack bumped right into Fang.
"Oh, there you are. And Your Majesty!" Fang looked behind Jack, and sure enough a few second later, Glen had joined their group. "Excellent, then we can get going. Arthur Barma and his relation are already here. I'm sorry, I would've let you know sooner, but I didn't know where you had gone, sire."
Jack was staring at the seams of Fang's clothing, very much frozen again. He knew Glen wouldn't say anything about what had just happened, but it didn't stop him from feeling any less on edge.
"My apologies, I went out for a stroll," Glen explained. "Shall we then?"
A chair crashed and splintered onto the wall. That was how Victoria was greeted when she came into the heavily-curtained room.
He was standing at the opposite wall, body hunched over and arms out from flinging the furniture away. Despite the obvious tension in his body, all but his eyes remained composed in his expression. In his eyes, he was blazing with fury. Victoria didn't know what could've happened to spur the burst of anger.
Glancing at the broken chair then over at him, she raised her brows just slightly. "Did something happen?" she asked.
For the first time, he acknowledged her presence. He tilted his head toward her in an unnatural fashion. "Happen? Dear Victoria, perhaps you didn't notice, but I'm standing before you as a dream."
The statement didn't shock her, and actually confused her a bit. Of course he was a dream. His body was like that sometimes, nothing to cry over. The dark, silvery aura around him like shadowed moonlight coiled around him, alerting her of his literal dream state.
Not waiting for her to reply, he supplied the answers for her. Shaking his head, he straightened up, only to rake his nails over his face. If he had an actual body, surely angry red lines would streak them, from his eyeballs all the way down his cheeks, neck, and collar.
"I shouldn't have let Jack and Oswald get too close. This was a mistake I hadn't foreseen," he said, white bangs covering most of his expression then.
Victoria regarded him cautiously, keeping the table as a barrier between them as she got closer. "Did they find out too much?" she hazarded to guess.
"No," he said, palms over his eyes. "That seems to be heading toward the correct course. But it's not going fast enough. They're finding out too many other things. At this rate, it'll be much too dangerous if they find Lacie first!"
As used to his tantrums as she was, Victoria knew he could be unpredictable and irrational. How absurd such an ancient being could be so...childish. Victoria crafted her words carefully. "Even if they find out some more truths, they still have nothing to fight with. Lacie is yours. Pandora's Box is yours."
His head snapped in her direction, so fast it should've cracked his neck. His hands slowly came down, his eyes wide and abysmal. "You... Are you an idiot?" he said in a low voice. "I have neither right now, you ignorant bitch!"
Victoria effortlessly managed to step to the side as another chair was thrown, right at her. The wood splintered once more, and she sighed.
"Maybe," she said, stepping closer, "you should allow me to finish talking before you break things. Jetrose has gotten a trail on Lacie, a fresh one."
Slowly, he blinked, as if not comprehending her words. Then he looked away, like the answers were written in the shadows. Little by little, he seemed to calm down. Finally, he murmured, "I can't move right now. My body won't..."
That was right. Use words. Victoria could understand his predicament then and nodded. "Do not worry. We'll track Lacie to her hiding spot, and then bring her back here. The rest will be very simple."
His body sagged. Victoria wondered if she should suggest he sit down when he looked at her, a smile growing on his face. It wasn't malicious or unstable. No, his smile was warm, like he was having a lovely dream.
"Do it. Bring me home."
Victoria bowed her head and made to leave the room, when he was in front of her. The sinister grin had slipped back on his face.
"And," he continued, "bring me Miranda Barma."
The walk had been a silent one. Whether or not Glen found it comfortable was impossible to say. Jack supposed he was taught to not let such matters show on his face or air around him. If anything, Jack thought he should shut down his own racing mind and instead focus on the task at hand.
Except that everything went completely silent in his head right before every cell in his body screamed for him to run.
They were in the room now, Glen going off again with an apology for keeping his guests waiting. Arthur gave a low bow of his head, introducing the man next to him while Jack stood there, muscles tense. The door was inches away. He could pretend he hadn't even entered the room...
"...and this is my good friend Jack. He's helping out with this mission was well." Arthur gestured toward him, and there was nowhere for Jack to hide. "Jack, this is a distant relation of mine, Isla Yura."
The well-known red hair of the Barmas looked coarse on Isla Yura. It was tied back in a tight ponytail, leaving his face completely unhidden. The permanent smile he had on his face widened hideously as his round eyes drank in the sight of Jack like he was the rarest wine. Jack had felt that stare on him for years, from the very being of Isla Yura, had felt his hands exploring every in of Jack's body in worship.
Isla Yura, his best friend's relation, a member of a powerful family, and Jack's stalker.
"Jack!" he all but sighed his name in rapture. "You really are here! Of course, I knew you would be, Arthur never was a liar. But still you can forgive my skepticism, can't you?"
While Arthur already seemed acquainted with the information that Isla Yura and Jack knew each other, Glen's gaze shifted between the two men. "You've met before," he remarked.
Jack's lips trembled, and he said nothing as he hastily made to move in a seat farthermost from Isla Yura's touch. His stare very much was enough.
Was this it? Was Jack done here? Would Isla Yura reveal him for the whore he was, right here?
Karma. This has to be karma, for what I let Glen do.
"We are quite familiar with each other," said Isla Yura, but he left no opportunity for questions. "As a matter of fact, I already knew about Jack's lovely tattoo. I never could have imagined that the significance of it was very much real."
Glen took a seat right beside Jack. A few minutes ago, his close proximity would've made Jack hypersensitive, but now his presence quelled his close to overflowing fears. Crossing his legs, Glen asked, "So you do know what it means."
Much to Jack's relief, the conversation made a decisive turn. The opportunity to flatly out Jack was gone. He must not plan to do it then, right? How much did Arthur tell him? And...how much did he tell Arthur?
The conversation carried on without him, like he was a patient whose ailment was being theorized by physicians. Isla Yura's smile didn't waver, and in a matter-of-fact tone, he said, "Well, put simply, that mark is the symbol of Pandora's Box."
"Is it a well-known symbol?"
"I would think not," Arthur answered. "I had never seen it before. If it were a widely-printed symbol, I would've surely stumbled upon it."
Glen fixed his stare to Isla Yura next. "But you have."
"In my area of interests, there is nary a reference I leave undiscovered," Isla Yura said with a proud smile. He leaned back on his chair, pressing his fingertips together. "The mark of Pandora's Box is one little know of. I've been so curious over Jack's tattoo for quite some time because of it."
Call it an obsession, Jack thought. He was avoiding all eye-contact with him, focusing his sight instead on the red of Glen's cloak.
Isla Yura was silent, as if waiting for Jack to react to his statements. When he didn't, he only went on, "But, as it is, Jack doesn't remember how he received it."
"Then maybe the one who inked your skin...?" Glen's voice trailed off, and Jack realized with a start that he was being addressed.
What's with that look? It was the same one Glen wore when he was making plans, plans that involved the rescue of Princess Lacie. Did Glen think that finding the one who inked his skin would really help? It was just a man who branded all the prostitutes, but he couldn't very well mention that. That man wouldn't have anything to do with the mystical matters of Abyss and Pandora's Box.
Come to think of it, Jack had nothing to do with it, either. "Glen," he said, firmly enough to hold his attention. "I know we called Arthur here, but I think we're getting sidetracked. I'm sorry, this was a mistake. I've distracted you, and now you want to chase tattoo artists."
"Jack," Arthur murmured.
Shaking his head, unable to stand being in the room any longer, Jack rose. "This isn't right. I'm so sorry to have wasted all of your times. Glen, we should..." He grounded himself by patting a hand on Glen's shoulder. "We should talk to Gilbert instead. I'm sure it would be much more productive than what we're doing now."
Glen looked at a loss for words, his lips just slightly parted as he considered. Finally, lips forming a thin line, he nodded. "Yes. I apologize as well."
"Well, there's honestly no need to."
Jack wanted to shatter into pieces at the sound of Isla Yura speaking, and with such a tone that nailed them back into place.
"Your Majesty," he went on, "I don't believe your actions to be completely unreasonable. You see, after such a long acquaintance with Jack and his lovely tattoo, I've had time to give it some thought. Investigate it."
For the first time, Jack addressed his stalker. "What are you talking about?" he asked, so quietly it came out as a hiss.
"Jack," Isla Yura sounded hurt at his tone, "I'm an occultist, remember? I revel in the information of the unknown and uncanny. You see, if dear Arthur had consulted me sooner, I would've told you all you needed to know about Abyss. And now, to know it's real - of course, I never wished to doubt for an instant..."
"Is Jack alright?" Glen asked. "I can't imagine why someone would spread that kind of mark. It's..."
Unconsciously, Jack thought, It's another filthy thing about me. And I didn't even know.
The worst was yet to come. Isla Yura cast his gaze once more to Jack. "No one knows how it got on your skin," he said, reminding Jack of the very thing he told him that first night, when Isla Yura had asked about it. "Even the man who marked you the first time didn't know-"
"Stop that!" Jack shouted. His whole body had gone tense, gripping the edge of the table hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
Both Arthur and Glen looked startled, but Isla Yura kept smiling. He went on as if Jack hadn't even made an outburst. "It wasn't like your other tattoo, was it? Thinking of it now, it seemed to just appear there overnight, hadn't it? I do wonder if that is the reason why..."
"If there's a point to this, I'd like you to get to it immediately." Glen had his hand on Jack's arm, squeezing it. That same hand calmed him, urged him back down to take a seat and Jack's shoulders slumped.
Isla Yura directed his attention to Glen now, looking nothing short of delighted. "Sire, you've unquestionably have the greatest power in all Sablier. I do wonder, if you wished, you could remove that symbol off Jack's body, couldn't you?"
The implication hung in the air, heavy enough that it felt oppressing, like Jack was being stuffed inside tight, stone walls. The glance Glen gave him was the final brick to seal him in, and Jack knew what was being asked of him. But he wasn't going to do it. Not here. Not with him looking.
Reading Jack's expression, Glen said, "It'll be fine. I can do it over your clothing."
With a tiny nod, Jack turned to him, tentatively spreading his thighs. Queer that any other time, Jack would open his legs without hesitation, maybe even with some joy. At the moment though, with Isla Yura in the room, Jack was just a child, and he was surrounded by unknown figures with hungry eyes.
Except Glen's. That was the last thought Jack had before Glen clapped a hand over his thigh and a painful shock ran down his leg. He yelled out as Glen's hand was expelled away from him in a burst of dark-grey smoke.
Jack clutched his hand over his thigh, groaning as the phantom pains continued to circuit through this leg. Had Glen done something? A wrong spell? Jack hadn't even felt the magick being performed on him before the pain.
Although clamping his other hand over the one that had been on Jack, Glen looked otherwise unharmed. He let out a deep breath, eyes wide with a look that read he knew exactly what had happened.
"Jack!" Arthur called, at his side in an instant. "Are you hurt? Wh-what was that?"
"That," said Isla Yura, as calm as ever, almost like he expected the result, "was the tattoo protecting itself."
As Jack pressed his hands over his thigh, the throbbing subsided. A sort of angry heat had built up where Glen had touched him.
"Why?" he whispered. He could only glance at Glen for but a moment before trying to find solace in clutching Arthur's hand.
Did that really just happen?
"Arthur told you, didn't he? In the story of Abyss, its world was created by twins, a boy and a girl. They are the ones that created Pandora's Box, and have run since before time because they opened it." Isla Yura tilted his head, his voice dripping poisoned honey. "Such naughty children - maybe they're attracted to those who are one and the same to them."
One and the same? Attracted to?
Glen looked over at Jack with clarity. Even Arthur tightened his hold on him.
"No," Arthur said, "not Jack."
"That mark sealed his fate," Isla Yura insisted. "King Glen just proved it. Jack has been marked by the desperate will of one of those twins - half of Pandora's Box."
Jack got up, shaking off Arthur's hand. His legs felt unsteady, the only indicator he wasn't just floating was the throbbing at his thigh. "Liar," he said. "You've lost your mind. And you're a liar." He shot a look at Glen. "You removed it."
A dark look passed over Glen's face. "I could try again."
"You don't have to," Jack said, backing away. "Because you removed it. It's just an ordinary tattoo, so of course you removed it. If anyone could, it would be you."
"Jack." Arthur made to touch him, offering his consoling hand, but Jack flinched away from it. No one could touch him. What if that explosive pain returned? The smoke and shocks? No one could touch him.
He backed up further, still staring right at Glen, who wasn't saying anything. It was in his eyes - he believed what that snake was saying.
The last thing he could register before running out the door was Isla Yura's musing of, "If Jack is one twin, then I do wonder..."
Blood rushed in Jack's ears, disorienting him. His legs swayed, and he could only barely register stumbling into a room further down the hallway. Leaning back against the door, he tugged down his trousers, and racked his nails down on the black symbol on his thigh.
Why? Why me? Why me?
"Such naughty children - maybe they're attracted to those who are one and the same to them."
Oh gods no, no no...!
It wasn't gone. It wasn't gone.
Seconds or minutes could've passed until Glen tried to open the door. Jack backed away, coiling on the wall as Glen came in. As soon as those electric-purple eyes found Jack, time resumed its normal speed again, and Jack could breathe.
The first thing he said, with a dry, broken voice was, "No."
Glen looked down at Jack's trousers, which were pulled up again messily on his hips.
Silence was worse than any interrogation. Apologies and pleas spilled out of Jack's lips. "I didn't know. I didn't know. I don't know how this could've happened. I don't understand..." He inhaled deeply, shaking. "He's a liar. That man is a liar. He's not a good man, he would say something like this to torture me, he would-"
"Jack." Glen seized him by the shoulders, forcing him to stop trembling, and his words caught in his throat.
In Glen's eyes, Jack became rooted. His thoughts could finally form coherently, and the core of his fears bubbled up to the surface. I'm not 'just Jack' anymore... And I don't know how to handle being something this important. I can act at being a body to fuck. I can act as a thief. But this? Being marked, as if by destiny? By some wicked fate? I can't handle that, I can't...
Slowly, the corners of his eyes burning, Jack shook his head. "I don't understand. I just came in, I didn't think I'd be involved. I mean," he forced a laugh, "what twist of fate is that? How can I be involved? What... What do I do?"
Glen's fingers relaxed, and he started rubbing his hands over Jack's biceps. "If we go back, we can discuss it. I'm sure with both Arthur and Isla Yura here, we can figure out a solution." He leaned in, forehead inches away from Jack's. Voice low, he said, "It'll be alright. Nothing is going to leave you. If we just go back-"
"No!" Jack panicked again, trying to push Glen away.
Like he was cradling a stray cat, Glen pulled Jack into his arms. The warm press of his body around Jack's calmed him down, melting the ice in his blood. And slowly, Jack's thoughts quieted down until he could only feel one thing. When he blinked, all he could register was Glen's solid warmth and his breath against his temple. The anxieties and fears he felt were gone in a mute fog, and there was only the sunshine on Glen's black hair.
Jack's hands went up the chest pressing on him. Glen didn't react, even though Jack knew that he was experiencing exactly what he was.
"It's okay," Glen murmured into his hair, "I'm here. It's okay."
Why was he saying that? If Jack looked like he needed to be consoled, that wasn't the case. There were better ways to get him back on solid ground. Jack pulled back, just enough that he could lean in to press his lips on Glen's. With surprise, Glen tried to pull away, but Jack threaded his fingers through his hair, bringing him back. Insistently, Jack moved his lips over Glen's, asking for a response.
"Jack-," he whispered.
The wall hit his back softly, Glen's hands cupping his face, caressing him as he returned the kiss in full. The reciprocation was more wonderful than Jack could've imagined. Finally, he was being touched, even if in a tame manner. He was being touched. Glen was touching him. And nothing was coming apart.
He opened his mouth, hugging Glen around his neck. More heat built between their lips as Jack's tongue tasted Glen. His mouth was sweet and refreshing, and just like a summer wine as he expected. It took a minute, but then Glen followed along with Jack's tongue movements with his own, exploring the inside of Jack's mouth. A low groan reverberated in Jack's throat, licking over tongue and lips and teeth, and he was becoming far too intoxicated from just a kiss.
A hand went up his shirt, hot against his skin. Everything felt hot. "Glen..."
The kiss broke, Glen's taste still lingering on his tongue. Unsatisfied, Jack tried for another kiss. Glen reciprocated, but less heatedly. A series of small kisses passed between them, the hand under his shirt squeezing his side as Glen panted against his lips. There was a stiff length pressing against his own that easily poked out from his loose trousers. He bucked his hips up, starting a slow pace of rubbing their bulges together.
Jack gasped sweetly, Glen moaning and nails digging into Jack's side, and it hurt but a delicious pain, one he was familiar with and in that moment would gladly get Glen acquainted with. He ground his hips up and down again, wanting more of those sounds - who else had heard them before? Every instinct that Jack knew came out to attention, stringing Glen along...
Before two hands gripped his hips firmly and made him stop. The kiss broke, and Jack looked down, trying to catch his breath.
And when their foreheads pressed together, there came the words again from Glen, so foreign and distant,
"I'm here, Jack. I'm going to help you."
Ending A/N: They finally kissed, it only took forever, haha. I think I got hopes up with saying heavy Glen/Jack was gonna be going on when I just meant making-out. Forgive me, haha ;;;;
I really hope the pacing was alright, but this is really the time I wanted Glen to physically express his feelings. Jack may be really messed up, and now has more piled on him, but well, Glen has his own thoughts too. Let's hope Jack gives him a chance uou Anyway! I hope you enjoyed! Tell me if there were any problems with how it came out, I'm trying to do my best kjbgkjrbtg
-waves-