Day 1:

The first time Greg saw him was on Friday the 13th. He’d never been a superstitious person but the moment he laid eyes on him he knew that the legend that the particular day was unlucky could be wholly debunked. Everything about him was bewitching, from the swagger of his walk to the nervous ticks he subtly displayed. It took barely ten minutes until Greg found himself completely under his spell.

The lights of the club strobed and spun, trying to pull his gaze away, but he kept it locked, watching as the man flipped a business card between tattooed fingers. Flashes of color intermittently illuminated the pale skin of his face, unable to alter the gorgeous blue hue of his incredible eyes. Even from two table lengths away, Greg could see pain and depth underneath his stare. He wanted to know his story, to learn what caused him sadness and what brought him joy.

The man unlocked his phone to look at a text message and Greg wondered who it was from. When his top teeth bit into his lower lip, Greg stopped focusing on the intensity of a deep, soulful connection and started thinking of a balls deep interaction. Holy shit did he want to fuck the hell out of him. Peeling his eyes away from his crush for long enough to survey the room, Greg noticed that a tall, dark, and handsome dude was heading over to him, looking to make a move.

He watched as “tall, dark, handsome” rested an elbow on his crush’s table and attempted to disarm him with a thousand-watt smile. As charming as the man seemed to be, the object of Greg’s affection showed no interest. When the pushy suitor didn’t take the hint, Greg’s crush raised his eyebrows and looked him straight in the face. Though Greg was too far away to hear his words, the sentiment was clear. “Tall, dark, handsome” seemed taken aback by the brashness but his crush was nonplussed, turning his attention to his phone. He waited until his admirer sulked away to drain the remaining liquid from his glass, belch, shove his phone back into his pocket, and stand up.

“Thanks for coming, Jack,” The heavily tattooed blond bartender called to the brunette man when he noticed he was heading out. In response his crush, Jack, threw his middle finger up in the air and gave him a shit-eating grin. As soon as Jack flipped the bird, Greg’s pounding heart tumbled to his stomach and he fell in love

Day 2:

It had been twenty-four hours since Greg had last seen Jack and he couldn’t get him out of his head. Against his better judgment, he headed back to the club, hoping that Jack would be there too. When Greg first hit the club scene a few years ago, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t go more than once a week in an effort not to look like a trolling fuckboy. Now, he didn’t give a shit, he had to see him again.

He did a few laps around the room, sat on a barstool, and scoped out the VIP, without success. After a few hours and a couple of beers, he made his way to the bar where the blond tattooed bartender was slinging drinks.

“What can I get for ya, Red?” The bartender asked, sliding a napkin in front of Greg.

“Nothing right now, but, uh… that guy Jack… is he your friend?”

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. Greg got the impression that he wasn’t the first guy to ask about Jack.

“What’s his deal?”

The bartender let out a wry laugh, “That’s never gonna happen.”

The reaction took Greg by surprise. He wasn’t used to being rejected, especially by proxy,

“Does he have a boyfriend?” Greg pressed, feeling panic rise in this throat at the prospect.

“He doesn’t have a boyfriend but he’s not gonna go for some clean-cut north side dude,” he stated, beginning to wipe down the deep mahogany bar top.

“I’m south side.”

“Yeah? Good luck getting a chance to tell him that.”

The sting caused Greg to slink away from the bar, do one last scan of the perimeter, and leave the club feeling defeated.

Day 9:

Greg had shown up at the club every night since the 13th with hopes that Jack would be there. He promised himself that if he didn’t see him that weekend, he’d stop going. He felt like a stalker and was pretty sure that the blond tattooed bartender thought that’s precisely what he was.

He sat down at his regular high top while his eyes scanned the room. He’d convinced himself when he finally saw Jack again his flesh and bones would pale in comparison to the fantasy that he’d created in his brain. He was astonished when he realized that Jack was even more gorgeous than he’d remembered. The brunette was weaving through the crowd, making his way to the bar so he could lean over the counter and greet his friend with a handshake and hug combination. He was dressed like he’d come from work in charcoal grey pants and a black collared shirt. Greg wondered what he did that had him burning the midnight oil. The bartender slid him a whiskey on the rocks and then turned to serve other patrons while Jack leaned his back against the bar to sip his drink. Greg was about to get up from his stool and approach him, but an older man slid in first. He was close enough to the bar to hear the exchange:

“Can I buy you a drink?” the man asked, giving Jack a lecherous look.

“Got one.”

The man cleared his throat. “How about we dance?”

Jack didn’t even turn his face toward him when he replied, “Don’t dance.”

“We could just talk then.”

“How about you just fuck off instead?” Jack suggested, looking the older man in the eye with a contemptuous sneer, “That sound good?”

The older man drew back, spanked by rejection.

Greg found himself growing increasingly intimidated by Jack due to the brashness of his rebuff. He’d never lacked confidence when it came to guys, but Jack stripped him of any arrogance he may have otherwise possessed. Greg was a handsome physical therapist with a nice apartment and a huge cock. He knew he was a catch, but something about Jack made him feel unworthy.

When his crush put his empty glass down and made his way to the bathroom, Greg followed. He had no idea what the fuck he was going to do, but knew he had to try something. As he stood next to him at the urinals, he realized that the tactic may not have been the most effective. It was generally frowned upon—and moderately creepy—to strike up a conversation with a dude while they took a leak, yet he didn’t want to waste the opportunity. He pulled his dick out a bit further than necessary and coughed loudly, hoping that it would draw Jack’s eyes to his junk. He was a shower and a grower, so he knew that his shit would look impressive even when it was flaccid. The brunette didn’t so much as glance his way, so Greg coughed again. In the middle of his third fake coughing fit, Jack zipped up, washed his hands quickly and exited the bathroom, leaving Greg with his cock in his hand, feeling as though he’d reached a whole new low.

Still, he shook off and made his way back out to the main floor, searching the room for Jack, who was nowhere to be found. Disheartened, Greg had one more drink and headed home.

Day 15:

Since there didn’t seem to be any specific pattern to the nights Jack turned up at the club, Greg had continued his nightly excursion. He was growing increasingly exhausted and irritable, but it didn’t stop him from showing up. Unfortunately, someone else did, too. When Greg caught sight of his ex-boyfriend, Bryant, he was pretty sure the night wasn’t going to go his way. He drained his beer and quickly ordered another.

“Gonna do your stakeout sloshed tonight, Red?” The blonde tattooed bartender teased.

Over the past several nights, Greg and Tim had gotten to talking and both came to the understanding that the other was an alright guy.

“Fuck you,” Greg laughed. “My ex is here.”

“Where?”

Greg chugged his beer and gestured over to a few guys standing by a nearby table, “Green pants,” he stated.

Tim looked over at the tall, tanned man, with well-coifed dusty blond hair and a preppy pink shirt on, “Is he a golfer or something?”

“Yup.”

“Wait, he really is?” Tim howled as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

“He’s got two PGA championships and countless shitty qualities,” Greg replied, sliding his empty bottle toward Tim, “One more.”

Tim tsked gently and grabbed the beer for Greg, who was attempting to sink into the bar top and become invisible when Bryant approached him.

“Long time no see, Greg.”

“That was purposeful,” Greg replied, glaring into his grey eyes.

“Ugh, c’mon, babe. Do you always have to be so dramatic?” Bryant chided.

“Not your problem anymore,” he reminded with a shrug.

“You know it turns me on when you’re a bitchy twink,” Bryant said, licking his lips, “My feisty redhead.”

“Call me that again and I’ll kick your ass,” Greg warned. Glancing over Bryant’s shoulder, he saw that Jack had taken a seat at the table just behind them. Greg called Tim over to ask for a “whiskey on the rocks.” The bartender looked at him dubiously but started to pour.

“So south side,” Bryant mocked. “Dance with me”

Greg’s head felt light as the beer he’d consumed rushed through his bloodstream. “Not happening.”

“C’mon,” Bryant prodded, looping his arm around Greg’s waist, “One dance.”

“I have a fucking boyfriend,” Greg spat, grabbing the whiskey and pushing past Bryant.

“Oh yeah?” Bryant laughed in response. The smile immediately faded from his face when Greg placed the whiskey in front of Jack.

“Got this for you,” Greg stated, his heart thumping hard in his chest. A silent chant of ‘please don’t kill me,” repeated in his head as he leaned over and slotted his mouth against Jack’s. His breath hitched when he felt Jack’s hand rest on his cheek and his tongue slide into his mouth, deepening the kiss. Completely overwhelmed by the reciprocation, Greg stood there lamely, arms by his side. When Jack put his free hand on Greg’s other cheek and kissed him harder, Greg sprung to life, capturing the brunette’s tongue so he could slowly suck on it like it was his dick. He grinned into the kiss as he drew a soft, needy moan out of his crush. Placing his hands on the sitting man’s hips, Greg nudged Jack’s knee so that he would straddle his legs. The move allowed Greg to move in tighter to Jack’s body. When they were both entirely robbed of their breath, Greg pulled back and stared into amused blue eyes.

Jack stared, bit his lower lip and raised his eyebrows. “I should punch you in your fucking face.”

“Why didn’t you?” Greg wondered, knowing that there were hundreds of smoother things he could’ve said.

“Got a pretty one. It’d be a shame to fuck it up,” Jack replied, placing his thumb and index finger on Greg’s chin and pressing a kiss onto his lips.

“Really, Greg? Right in front of me?” Bryant cried.

“Boyfriend?” Jack asked against Greg’s lips.

“Ex,” Greg replied.

“He’s got tattoos all over him. Should’ve known that my little piece of south side trash would go for another one,” Bryant scoffed.

Before Greg could turn to respond, Jack peeled his lips away from the kiss and snarled, “You wanna die?”

Bryant scurried away like the pussy he was, and Greg just stared at Jack like he had rainbows shooting out of his ass,

“Alright. He’s gone. You can go too,” Jack stated, lifting the glass Greg had brought to him to his lips and taking a swig.

Greg was flabbergasted. “Huh?”

“Not really the talkative type, are you?” Jack replied flicking the pad of his finger against the side of his nostril, “Wanted to get your man jealous, we did, now you can fuck off.”

“But… but that k-k-iss,” Greg stuttered.

“Did you think we fell in love?” Jack asked wryly. “We didn’t. Anything else?”

The words were barely out of Jack’s mouth when Greg pushed his lips against it again.

Though Jack didn’t settle into the kiss at first, he eventually let himself go, exploring Greg’s mouth with abandon.

“I’ve been watching you,” Greg confessed, pupils blown with want, “since I first saw you… I just kept watching you… kept looking for you.”

“I know,” Jack said, licking his lips before licking past Greg’s. He cradled his hand around the back of Greg’s skull and kissed him fervently, “Noticed you too,” he admitted pulling back.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Greg asked, rubbing Jack’s side. He felt like he was in a dream. He was kissing Jack, touching Jack, talking to Jack—the man who’d overtaken his thoughts for the last two weeks.

“You’re funny as hell man. Kept doing all that dumbass shit. Hacking up your lung in the pisser so I’d look at that fucking arm you got in your pants, staring at me with stupid googly eyes, asking my boy about me,” Jack laughed, “Wanted to see what other bullshit you’d come up with.”

Greg glanced at Tim who shrugged and shook his head with a chuckle.

“Every night, huh? You a fucking psycho or somethin’? Gonna try to cut off my dick and feed it to me?” Jack smirked. “’Cause if you think you are… I fucking wouldn’t. Got more glocks than you got inches. You understand?”

Greg swallowed hard and nodded. He wasn’t sure if he was more terrified or turned on, “I wanna fuck you. Don’t wanna kill you.”

“That’s your pickup line? Weeks of this shit and that’s what you’re gonna go with?” Jack questioned, raising his eyebrows. “That you wanna fuck me?”

Greg shrugged, “Depends if it’s gonna work or not, I guess.” He pressed his lips against Jack’s once again, feeling some of his lost confidence resurface. Jack was a shit-talker. He needed to go toe to toe with him, give it right back, “Is it working?”

Jack grabbed Greg’s wrist and placed his hand on top of the bulging erection his pants were straining to contain, “Does it feel like it’s working?”

“I want to taste you,” Greg whispered, licking his lips salaciously. “Can we get outta here?”

“Your place or mine, Calhoun?” Jack asked, taking Greg by surprise.

“How’d you know my last name?” Greg questioned.

“You give Tim your credit card every night, man,” the brunette replied matter-of-factly.

“So, you’ve been asking about me too then?” Greg smirked, rubbing Jack’s erection over his pants.

Realizing he’d said too much, the brunette scoffed and told him to “fuck off.” Standing up, he threw a couple of bucks down on the table. “My place is close.”

They had just started to head out of the club when they heard Tim exclaim from behind the bar, “Hallelujah! Finally.”

Jack threw up his finger and Greg laughed, following the shorter man out the door. “He told me you wouldn’t be into me,” Greg stated. “Are we walking?”

Jack nodded.

“Why’d he say that?” Greg pressed. “That you wouldn’t be into me?”

The brunette shrugged. “I’m sure he’s got his reasons.” He lit up a cigarette and offered it to Greg before lighting another for himself.

“Did you date him or something?” Greg asked taking a drag and blowing the smoke into the crisp night air. He’d never considered it, but he wondered if he should have. The idea of Jack being in a relationship with anyone but him boiled his blood. He didn’t understand what it was that drew him so intensely to the other man, but he’d never had that type of pull before.

“I don’t date… I just fuck,” Jack said simply. As if he noticed Greg’s disappointment, he added, “but I never fucked him.” He dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out before pulling open the sleek glass door of a high-rise apartment building.

For some reason Jack’s lack of screwing around with Tim made him feel slightly better. He took one last drag of his cigarette, stubbed it in the ashtray by the door and followed Jack through the lobby of his building.

The elevator ride to the apartment was full of sidelong glances and sneaky smiles.

“This is really nice,” Greg commented as they entered Jack’s place. It was spacious with surprisingly high ceilings and a full wall of windows that opened to the city below. The decor was understated and far from fussy, with an oversized grey couch and cream walls.

“It’s alright,” Jack said, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and tossing it onto the small table in the entry. “Close to work.”

“What d’you do?” Greg questioned. The location and size of the apartment indicated that whatever Jack did, he was successful at it.

“Finance,” he stated with a sniff, “you wanna keep talking or do you wanna get on me?”

A huge grin spread across Greg’s face as Jack led him into his bedroom.

The brunette started to unbutton his shirt, but Greg gently knocked his hands away and took over the task.

“So we’re gonna take our time, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” Greg hummed, sliding the shirt off Jack’s shoulders before pulling his wife beater off. “Holy fuck.” He shook his head in disbelief at the perfection of Jack’s broad shoulders, wide chest, and muscular arms. “I’ve been dreaming about this body, man, and now I’m gonna fucking worship it,” Greg informed him, kissing his way down Jack’s torso before dropping to his knees.

“Oh yeah?” Jack cleared his throat and licked his lips as Greg unbuckled his belt and unzipped his zipper, “How’re you gonna do that?”

“Give you the best head of your life,” Greg stated, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes before tugging down his pants and boxers. His mouth watered at the sight of Jack’s exemplary cock, standing firm and proud.

“Good luck with that,” Jack dared, scratching his chin.

Greg just licked his lips knowingly, wrapping his wet, hot mouth around the head of Jack’s cock. From the start, Greg knew his technique was insane as he worked to flood Jack with a mixture of sensations. He was twisting, hollowing his cheeks, lightly dragging teeth, lapping his tongue heavy, deep throating, and completely fucking destroying the brunette in the process. Jack’s whole body vibrated as Greg worked him. Just when Jack seemed to know what he was going to do, Greg made sure to change it up, throwing Jack for a loop; ghosting over his balls, nipping at his thigh, tracing the base of his cock with his tongue while Jack’s tip was brushing against the back of his throat.

“I gotta fucking lay down,” Jack said, his legs too shaky to stand on any longer. He laid back on the bed as Greg hovered over him with cocky eyes. “Smug motherfucker.”

“I have a reason to be, don’t I?” Greg retorted, clicking his tongue.

“Yeah, you’re not bad,” Jack conceded. “Show me what other reasons you got to be cocky.”

Greg smiled and made quick work of getting himself undressed.

“Goddamn,” Jack muttered, looking over Greg’s body. Scooting to the head of the bed, he was pressed up against the wall to get the full view.

“I’m pretty cocky about this,” Greg confirmed, beginning to stroke his thick, long dick. He saw Jack’s cock twitch in response, “You like it? Wanna taste it?”

“Mmm, yeah I do,” Jack confirmed gesturing for Greg to stand up on the bed and straddle him. Waving his cock in front of the brunette’s face, Greg grinned as Jack tried to catch the teasing tip with his outstretched tongue.

“What do you want?” Greg asked, guiding the head of his dick to Jack’s mouth. He pressed against it with a good bit of pressure then lifted and stretched a rivulet of pre-cum from Jack’s tongue to his cock.

Jack curled his tongue so he could try to catch it all.

“Cumslut, huh? Never would’ve guessed.”

“I want more,” Jack said softly, sticking his tongue out again in anticipation.

“What do you want?” Greg teased, pumping his dick a few times as he looked at Jack’s waiting mouth, more than ready for him. He was surprised and turned on by Jack’s uncharacteristic submissiveness. He found himself becoming more obsessed with the man by the moment. “Tell me.”

“Fuck my face,” Jack whispered, his cheeks flushing pink as if he was shy to admit what he wanted.

“You like that?” Greg asked, adjusting himself so his knees were by Jack’s ear, “Think you can take it all?”

“Know I can,” Jack assured, grasping tightly into Greg’s bare ass cheeks and pulling him forward.

“I’m gonna be relentless,” Greg warned.

“Fucking do it.”

Greg lined his cock up to Jack’s mouth and pushed in, inch by inch the way he would if he was breaching his ass. Throwing his head back, he moaned at the feeling of warmth that surrounded him. He rolled his hips at a steady pace. “You like to get your face fucked. How about your ass? Do you like to get your ass fucked too?”

Jack nodded and hummed around Greg’s cock and Greg moaned in response. He was going to fucking marry this man. “I’m gonna pound your face and then your ass, alright?”

“Mmm,” Jack responded the best he could with Greg’s cock laying weighty on his tongue. Greg moved quicker, pushing in deeper, letting the tip of his dick hit the back of Jack’s throat. Just as he promised, Greg started to drive in more brutally glancing down at Jack’s eyes where he saw moisture gathering in the corners.

“You good?” Greg asked breathless, continuing his thrusting. His fingers were pulling at Jack’s hair, guiding his head back and forth on him.

Jack moaned, rubbing his hand on Greg’s ass to assure he was still game.

“Good,” Greg stated. “That fucking mouth, holy shit. You’ve got the best mouth.”

As he continued to fuck Jack’s face, he felt his balls slapping rhythmically against this crush’s chin. Just when he was building up to a fervor, he slowed down, knowing that he had to stop, or the night would be over before it ever really started. Pulling his cock out, he gave Jack a grin as Jack protested the loss, “I’m gonna cum if we keep it up.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Jack groused, his chin wet with a mixture of his spit and Greg’s pre-cum.

“I need to fuck you,” Greg said, squatting down so he could shove his tongue into Jack’s mouth. The kiss was sloppy, both desperate for the other man’s taste. Jack sighed when Greg pulled away and slid down his body, gasping out a “fuck,” when he grabbed behind Jack’s knees and pushed his legs up so his mouth could gain full access to his ass.

Greg wasted no time lapping and swirling at his rim, causing the tight muscles to twitch then loosen in pleasure. Greg felt Jack’s legs shake as he fucked him with his tongue. In response to his trembles, Greg held Jack’s legs tighter and narrowed his tongue to push in deeper.

“Oh fuck,” Jack moaned as Greg continued to expertly open him. “I’m ready.” He squirmed under Greg’s pressure. Greg kept licking and pressing causing Jack to gasp with each pass, “Ready,” Jack whined again, smacking Greg’s head. “Get the fuck in me.”

Greg slid up Jack’s body to nip at his lower lip. “Fuck you’re hot,” he whispered before slotting his mouth against Jack’s again.

Jack was intoxicating and Greg felt like he was getting higher just from the heat radiating off him. He was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Pulling away from the kiss, Jack reached into the top drawer of his nightstand to hand Greg the lube. “I’m good. Just put some on that fucking monster.” He rolled over so he could push up on his hands and knees.

Greg bit back his smirk and messily rubbed lube over himself before slapping his cock against Jack’s ass. “No rubber?” he asked, pleasantly surprised.

“I’m good,” Jack said simply, “You?”

Greg nodded. “Yup and you’re not gonna be fucking anyone after me, so we’ll stay good.”

“I’m not?” Jack chuckled at the assumption. “I don’t know if you’re cute or fucking creepy as hell, Calhoun.”

Greg grinned and lined himself up to Jack’s hole, pushing into him with a swift movement.

“Fuck,” Jack groaned. He choked back a surprised laugh as Greg bottomed out. “Holy shit,” he gasped dropping his head down between his shoulders, so his forehead was resting on the mattress. He panted as Greg shimmied his hips from side to side to make more space for himself. “You got me so fucking full.”

“Are you gonna be able to take it,” Greg asked, seduction and challenge dripping from his tone. He rolled his hips slowly. “Or am I gonna have to take it easy on you? Fuck you sweet and slow?” He was teasing him now.

“I can take it,” Jack promised. “Pound me hard.” He took a deep breath as if preparing to get rocked.

“You asked for it,” Greg stated as he snapped his hips hard into Jack. He pulled out to his tip only to slam back into him, deep and penetrating. Jack writhed underneath him as Greg started to rail him at a toe-curling pace. He grabbed onto Jack’s hips, digging his fingers in hard so he could get the leverage he needed to hit Jack’s prostate. Boring into him with measured pulses, Greg dragged his fingernails down the pale skin of Jack’s black, leaving angry red scratches and the brunette falling apart at the sensation.

“Your ass is so good,” Greg complimented watching as Jack gripped onto the sheets so tightly that his tattooed knuckles were strained. He moved his hands up so he could grab onto Jack’s shoulder and drive his dick in even deeper. Much to Greg’s surprise, Jack started to push back on him aggressively, angling down so his full ass cheeks could hit against Greg’s balls with every thrust. Greg moaned at the sensation, “Holy shit, can you fuck.”

Jack continued to meet Greg’s hips, clenching his ass around Greg’s cock with every push, clearly wanting to prove to him how good of a fuck he was.

Greg’s body shivered from the sensation, his strokes becoming more erratic, less measured.

“Like that, huh?” Jack purred looking over his shoulder at Greg with beguiling eyes.

“Mmm” Greg hummed, letting Jack take control. “Get on top of me. C’mon, I want you to ride me,” He directed, spanking Jack’s ass.

The brunette obliged, turning Greg over so he could lower himself down onto his dick, “You’ve got such a perfect cock, man”

“All yours. Want it to be yours,” Greg panted as Jack started to ride him skillfully, rolling his body just the way Greg liked it.

“We’ll see, you freak,” Jack breathed leaning forward to shove his tongue into Greg’s mouth as he gyrated on his lap.

They were melting into each other’s mouths, all tongue, lust, heat. When they were both robbed of their breath Jack pulled back.

“Sit back,” Greg ordered.

Jack leaned back so his cock was angled up towards the ceiling, allowing Greg to take a tight hold of his hips. He surged up into him, causing Jack to shiver with pleasure and breathe out broken curses. Greg couldn’t take his eyes off how Jack’s cock was bouncing and bobbing with the force.

“Forward now,” he prompted.

Jack did as he was told and moaned appreciatively when Greg shoved his middle and index fingers into his mouth, “Love it,” Jack garbled.

“You like to be full everywhere, don’t you baby?” Greg crooned. “Fucking hot.” He dropped his hand to Jack’s leaking cock and matched the pace of his fucking. “You’re close … dripping all over. Gonna give it to me? Cum on me?”

Jack nodded, whining when Greg swiveled his hips a bit so he could hit his spot. “I want your cum and I’ll give you mine,” he promised, a coy smirk wrapped around Greg’s fingers.

Jack used his strong thighs to support his body as he bounced up and down on Greg’s cock.

“Cumslut,” Greg laughed, dropping his head back on the pillow and biting his lips, “You want it?”

“Fucking bad,” Jack confirmed, riding him hard.

As soon as Jack felt the gush of warmth shoot deep inside of him, his body started to quake. Dropping his hand to his cock, he jerked himself off and blew his load onto Greg’s chest with a guttural groan before collapsing into a heap on top of him.

They laid there in silence for a while, allowing their hands to idly explore arms, elbows and backs.

“Are you going back to the club tomorrow night? I don’t wanna break your streak,” Jack said, tracing his fingers tip up Greg’s bicep.

“Nah, I found who I was looking for. I’m gonna be right here,” Greg informed him with a goofy grin.

“Oh, are you now?” Jack asked pushing up so he could look into Greg’s eyes with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

“Yup,” Greg assured him pressing their lips together.

And for the rest of their days, he was.