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my heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck

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"We don't have to do this, you know." Jack's breath is warm against Bitty's ear, the firm muscles of his thighs holding Bitty's apart as he braces himself over top of him. He's naked and strong, and grinding gently down against Bitty's hips—even as he's trying so hard to give Bitty an out he most decidedly does not want. "If you're not ready or…"

An exasperated gasp escapes Bitty's lips. Not ready? Good lord. Bitty's whole body is damp with sweat. He's been hard and leaking for what feels like hours now, and his skin is too tight, electricity humming through him. If he were any more ready he'd vibrating clear off this bed.

Shaking his head, he grasps the back of Jack's neck and hauls him down into a kiss, and Jack goes willingly, mouth lush and hot. As his tongue slips between Bitty's lips, he lets out this choked little grunt, his cock bobbing, brushing against Bitty's abdomen and leaving a spot of slick. Bitty shivers clear down to his toes.

"I'm ready," he promises. Eager to prove the point, he spreads his legs a little wider and gets his hands on the perfect globes of that famous Zimmermann ass, hauling Jack closer until they're flush, cocks sliding against each other, hips knocking.

"I just—"

Honestly, Jack's babbling, and if someone had told Bitty back a year ago—hell, a month ago—that his problem would be Jack talking too much he'd have laughed in their face.

Shaking his head, he rubs his thumb beneath the point of Jack's jaw. "I'm a virgin, sweetheart, not a delicate flower. I know what I want."

"But—"

Bitty swallows at the creases that appear between Jack's brows. They've been together for a while now, and Jack's told him a little bit about growing up too fast in the Q, riding high on victory and nudged along by Parse. He knows that some of Jack's first times didn't go exactly the way he might have liked them to. That it makes him extra protective of Bitty's. It's as endearing as it is frustrating, making the parts of Bitty that aren't painfully impatient to finally have sex all tender and warm.

The mix of emotions and hormones fuels him as he stares straight into those clear, blue eyes. As he lets a little more of the desperation and the love he feels for this boy shine through. "I want you." He drags his palms along Jack's shoulders, trying to be reassuring, but a crack of vulnerability sneaks its way into his voice. "I want you so much." And this isn't fair, but he asks it anyway. "Can I have you?"

Something melts in Jack, the lines between his brows seeping away. "You already do."

And then they're kissing again. Kissing and touching. A new sort of intent seems to underlie the strokes of Jack's hands up and down his sides. A weight. The heat burns hotter beneath Bitty's skin, all mixed up with a bubbling lightness that's part oxygen deprivation and part sheer awe.

He can't believe they're finally doing this.

Fumbling, unwilling to pull away from the wet plush of Jack's lips, Bitty reaches out a hand to the side. Something goes crashing to the ground, and Jack makes as if to lift his head, but Bitty shhes him, holding him close. At long last, his fingertips connect with his nightstand drawer. He yanks it open and grasps the bottle that's been waiting all this time for them in there. Pressing it into Jack's hand, he thinks please please please.

Small mercies, Jack doesn't question him this time, but he doesn't quite get down to business yet, either. He lingers, tongue liquid against Bitty's, stubble rough. Finally, Bitty's about ready to cry. "Jack." His voice wobbles, but he has to say it out loud. "Please."

Jack's teeth scrape sharp against his lip. He presses his forehead to Bitty's brow and hovers over him, just breathing. "You know we don't have to do it this way, right? You can be inside me if you want, or—"

The suggestion alone has Bitty gripping Jack's neck tighter, fire curling in his belly.

But they've talked about this. "You know what I want."

"I do," Jack agrees.

And then he gets that look on his face, this absolute intentness and focus, like he's out on the ice, his stick in his hands. Bitty sucks in a breath. It's probably weird that his boyfriend looking at him like he's a hockey net is so unbearably hot, but he doesn't care.

"Jack—"

Before he get another word out, Jack is sliding down his body, and Bitty's eyes roll back in his head. Jack had been so stand-off-ish for so long, but he's sensual in bed in a way Bitty never would have expected, getting his hands and lips and tongue all over everything, and it never ceases to make Bitty feel like he's going out of his skin. Snapping the bottle's cap open, Jack mouths at Bitty's throat and his nipples, nuzzles in against the fine trail of hair beneath his navel, and then lower.

The first time Jack had put his mouth on him, Bitty had seen stars, had come so fast it had been embarrassing. Jack, of course had been delighted. Bitty has a little more stamina now, but the softness of Jack's lips against the side of Bitty's dick still has his back arching, his toes curling. Jack lets just the tip of him slide inside, and Bitty's about to protest, but then somehow slick fingers are at his hole, and his entire body goes alight.

"Oh."

And it's not as if Bitty hasn't tried this on himself before. But it's different when the fingers belong to someone else, when the wet heat of Jack's mouth is already almost too much. He reaches down, buries his hands in Jack's hair.

The first finger is only the barest hint of a stretch—thicker than Bitty's own but nothing he hasn’t taken at some point before. The second is harder, but Jack is patient, working him open slowly, distracting him with the wet heat of his lips. When he presses in the third one, Bitty has to bite down on his tongue against the sharpness of it, but Jack is there. He gentles him with a steadying hand against his hip, with soft, apologetic kisses all up and down his dick. And then he grazes Bitty's prostate.

It's like a lightswitch flipped on inside him. Electricity zips all up and down his spine. The burn melts away until there's only pleasure and fullness, and Jack takes him back inside his mouth again.

"No, wait—"

Jack sits up in alarm, and it's only sheer luck that has Bitty closing his hand around his wrist in time before he can pull away entirely. "Are you—"

"No." Bitty shakes his head. "I'm fine, it's good." It's so good. "I just." His cheeks flare hot. "I want to. With you inside me, and I was…close."

Barely on a knife's edge, one soft flick of Jack's tongue or press of his fingers from going over.

"Oh." The weight of the world seems to lift from Jack's shoulders.

Letting go of Jack's wrist, Bitty motions for him to kiss him again, and that's always a winner with Jack. He falls over top of Bitty, meeting his lips. Apparently reassured, he goes back to working his fingers in and out of Bitty, slowly, carefully, but the feeling starts to build again too soon.

"What did I just say about wanting you inside me, Mr. Zimmermann?"

Jack smiles against Bitty's mouth, and oh, Bitty will never get enough of that. This boy, when he smiles, is radiant.

"Just want to make sure," Jack says.

"I'm ready."

Hesitation still clings to Jack, but after another minute of kisses, he nods as if to himself and pulls away.

The sudden emptiness at the lack of Jack's fingers, the lack of his warmth against Bitty's body, leaves him cold. But Jack is gorgeous and naked and right there. Reaching into the still-open drawer beside Bitty's head and plucking out a condom. He tears it open sort of awkwardly and rolls it on. When he's ready, he kneels between Bitty's thighs, and a nervous, delighted tremor racks its way up Bitty's spine.

Jack opens his mouth, and Bitty shakes his head.

"If you ask me one more time, I swear—"

Leaning down, Jack kisses the protest from his lips. "I wasn't going to ask." He slips his hand into Bitty's, entwining their fingers. "I trust you. I was just going to say, I…I love you."

Bitty's heart clean melts away. He reaches up to cup Jack's face. "I love you, too."

It's not the first time they've said it, but it feels like more, somehow, like this. With Jack, usually the more reticent of the two, doing the offering.

With Bitty ready to share with him something he's never shared with anyone before.

For a minute, Jack slips just his fingers into Bitty's hole again, teasing and probably testing. But finally, he pulls away. Eric reaches down, wanting to get his hand on something, to be connected to this in some way. His fingertips brush Jack's where they're curled around his cock, guiding himself to exactly where he's supposed to go. The blunt head of him nudges up against Bitty's opening, and Bitty sucks in a breath.

"Hey." Their other hands are still entwined. Jack squeezes Bitty's palm, waits until he looks up into crystal blue eyes.

The first push in is like nothing Bitty's ever felt before, like fingers but smoother and hotter, thicker where it's filling him up. He sinks his teeth in hard against his lip, digging his fingers into Jack's. Pulling his hand away from Jack's cock, he grabs at his hip, half wanting to ask him to pull back and take it slow, half wanting to just urge him on.

"Are you—" Jack's voice is strangled, uncomposed in a way it so rarely is.

Bitty gasps, letting go the breath he'd been holding. "Fine. Keep going."

"I don't want to hurt…" Jack trails off as he sinks another inch deeper, finding space in Bitty's body he hadn't even know was there, space that was waiting for Jack.

And it does hurt, is the thing, but it's good, too, and it's Jack, and it's real. Bitty blinks hard, and his vision is this tiny bit foggy, his eyes damp, but he can't let Jack see that—he'll want to stop, want to pull away.

But he doesn't. Leaning in close, bracing an arm against the bed beside Bitty's head, Jack brushes his lips against the corners of his eyes, kissing away the stray hints of tears.

"I love you, I love you—" Apparently it's Bitty's turn to babble, and he does, nattering nonsense as ever so slow Jack presses inside, until finally his hips rest flush against the backs of Bitty's thighs, and God. He feels huge and impossible, and it hurts and it feels amazing, and Bitty—Bitty's not a virgin anymore.

"Shhh." Jack shifts to kiss Bitty's lips, licking into his mouth and taking the ridiculous words that keep falling out of him with him. "It's okay."

"Oh, Jack." He feels like he's glowing. "It's so much better than okay."

A gentle huff of a laugh slips past Jack's throat. "Thank God."

And Bitty's really not that insecure, but he has to know. "Is it—for you, does it—"

Jack's eyes shine. "You feel unreal." He kisses Bitty's mouth again, soft and wet. "The best thing I've ever felt."

The very center of Bitty goes gooey and warm. He clasps Jack by the neck, breathing his air. "So do you. You are—you—" He can't begin to put it into words, but thankfully he doesn't have to.

They stay there just like that for what seems like a long, long time, kissing deep, connected in this whole new way. The sharp ache of being taken like this yields bit by bit to the subtle rocking of Jack's hips, and by the time he takes a longer stroke, it's melted into a sweetness, bright and beautiful.

"Can I?" Jack asks, voice stuttering against Bitty's lips.

"Yes. God, Jack, just—"

"Fuck." Jack slides backward and takes his first real thrust, and all the breath is punched clear out of Bitty's body as his spine lights up with brightness.

"Yes," he hisses, burying his finger's in Jack's hair, keeping him close. Jack's pushing him into the mattress now with their joined hands and his hips, with the heat of his mouth as they kiss and kiss. As they make love and they fuck, and Bitty's never felt anything like this.

He doesn't even realize how close he is until Jack slips a hand between them and wraps it around his length.

"Oh my God." Bitty's head slams back. He bares his throat and pants and gasps for air. Jack grunts, surging forward into Bitty's body, and then the strokes of his hand match the strokes of his cock, every thrust hitting just where Bitty needs it, and Bitty can't breathe, he can't think— "Jack—"

His mouth snaps open and he clenches his eyes. His orgasm twists itself out of the base of his spine, building from his ass and his cock until it all crests over, the world dissolving into light. Jack chases him through it, not letting up at all as Bitty shoots between them, streaking their chests with hot, wet stripes. Bitty's babbling again, mumbling Jack's name and God's and that he loves him, God, he loves this boy so much.

Only as he's starting to come down does Jack pull back his hand, and it's like a wire being cut, the tension unwinding all at once, Bitty's mouth going slack and his eyes sliding open.

And just in time, too. Jack gives another thrust and then another, and then stills, hot and deep, and Bitty can feel that. The thick pulsing within and Jack's whole face scrunches up and he bites off a curse, cock throbbing.

After, Jack's arms seem ready to give out on him, his biceps shaking, but he struggles not to collapse on top of Bitty (and isn't that just a metaphor?). Still not quite capable of intelligent speech, Bitty urges him down anyway.

Jack shakes his head, mumbling. "I'll crush you."

"I don't mind."

Somehow, he manages to coax Jack into letting go. The weight of him is a little much, true, but so was everything about tonight, and maybe that's a part of what made it so good. They stay there like that for a while, tangled up and breathing each other's air, Jack still deep inside, and a part of Bitty wants to keep him there forever.

Eventually, though, the discomfort must get to the both of them. With a sigh, Jack wrestles himself back up onto his arms. When he slips free, Bitty lets out a little whine at the sudden absence as his body spasms to clench shut.

"Sorry." Jack winces as he rolls over to the side. While he deals with the condom, Bitty cleans himself up the best he can, scarcely able to take his eyes off Jack—the smooth lines of muscle on his back and shoulders, the cut of his jaw and ridiculous way his sweat-damp hair flops in his eyes.

When he comes back, Bitty scooches over to make room. Jack draws the sheet up over them, and Bitty lets him, even though right now he feels like he's as hot as the Georgia sun. He slips into Jack's arms again, a place he never thought he'd be, and yet here he is, body sore in all the right place, warm, naked skin all pressed to his.

Jack's finger beneath Bitty's jaw nudges his gaze to Jack's. "You okay?" A wavering flicker of uncertainty flashes across his eyes. "No regrets?"

Bitty rushes to shake his head. "No."

For a second, staring up at Jack, the magnitude of it all sweeps over him. The long road they've been on. The way Jack used to look at him like he was the source of all his problems in the world, and now…

Like he is the world.

And it's the same. For Bitty, it's just the same.

"No," he chokes out again, throat rough and heart full. Reaching up, he slides Jack's hair back from his eyes, letting his fingertips linger against his cheek. "No regrets. None at all."