Happy New Year

[moonshadows]

It was just about three in the morning when Jack entered the room, flicked on the lights, and exclaimed, “Gabe? What the fuck?”

Gabriel kept one arm flung over his eyes. “Welcome back, Strike-Commander,” he slurred.

“Why are you in my bed?”

“To welcome you back from your fancy New Year’s party. We missed you.”

“I’m sorry I had to go make nice with the UN,” Jack said, and he almost sounded like he meant it. “What did you do to yourself this time?”

“Nothin. Just helped clean up after the party here.”

“And by clean up I presume you mean drink the rest of any open bottle.”

“Yup.”

The bed shook slightly as Jack sat down. Gabriel’s stomach gurgled.

“So how many bottles are inside you, and should I alert medical?”

“Nah. One, maybe two. It was a big melon.”

“Melon?”

“Vodka watermelon. Made two, but we only ate one.”

“So you ate the other one by yourself?”

Gabriel belched.

“Well, at least you’re hydrated,” Jack sighed. Then he chuckled. “You look like you’re pregnant.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the father.”

Jack laughed. “I’m sorry I missed it. Can I feel?”

“Sure.”

Warm hands on his stomach, sliding over the taut skin and sparking warmth in his boxers. When warm lips joined the hands, Gabriel groaned.

“Was that good or bad?” Jack murmured.

Thinking about those lips where Gabriel couldn’t have them made him groan again. Although he wouldn’t be able to see even if his eyes weren’t covered, he was pretty sure he was tenting. “Take a guess.”

“Gabe? How drunk are you?”

“What’re you, my mom? ‘M not gonna puke.”

“Are you going to remember this in the morning? Should I take a picture?”

Oh yes, a picture of him hard as a rock and sporting the ‘I just ate an entire watermelon’ look. Just what he needed. “Please no. Probably not,” he lied.

The hands started caressing him again. Then the lips, and the wet swipe of Jack’s tongue.

“Should I return the favor you gave me last year?” Jack asked, warm and teasing.

Gabriel could barely concentrate past wanting those hands to go further south. “What did I do last year?”

One hand moved from his belly to cup his groin.

“Jack Morrison, don’t you dare. I am a lady,” he protested in his best Southern Belle voice.

Jack sat back and laughed. “My apologies, ma’am. Would you like a blanket to protect that food baby of yours?”

Well, he was kind of chilly. “Yeah.”

Soft warmth covered him, toes to neck. Under the blanket, Jack’s hand lay just over his belly button.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Alright, I’m going to sleep.” The lights obediently turned off. “Good night, you drunk idiot.”

In the dark, Gabriel smiled. “Night, Jack.”