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It's only loud if you let it be

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Jack is sure it was a fluke, that first note. That he and Bitty could mutually agree that Shitty’s box of sex gifts was best left alone, in the interest of preserving of their friendship with him. That it should sit in a drawer somewhere hidden and far away. Weekly brunch has already been a little awkward, at least on Jack’s side of things. He doesn’t need to be thinking about creative sex with his boyfriend while his best friend guzzles mimosas across the table.

But. A part of him wonders.

Lardo really is creative. And if it’s weird they don’t have to do anything. It’s not that weird. Shitty has done weirder things.

Jack can almost halfway convince himself that just peeking into the box again is Not A Bad Idea.

Bitty’s holding the box when he gets home, blush persistent and Very Adorable, and Jack knows that they’re Doing This.

**
“Noise complaint.”

Bitty makes a face. “That’s all it says? Sweetheart, we have some weird friends.”

Jack snorts, because, yeah, they do, but the fact that they’re currently sitting on Jack’s bed, cross-legged with a box of sex acts between them, gifted to them by said friends says a lot.

Jack squints down at the piece of paper (definitely in Lardo’s handwriting) as if the harder he looks the more revealing the suggestion will get. "It’s not much out of the ordinary for us."

Bitty frowns. "What are you talking about? You're not that loud."

"I'm not talking about me."

Bitty's mouth makes a little O, and Jack just knows that tonight won't go as either he or Lardo intended.

"We don't get noise complaints," Jack concedes, before Bitty can say anything, because he’s gracious that his neighbors let them have enthusiastic athletic sex without reporting him to the landlord. "But you do talk a lot during sex, bud. I don't think you'd be able to go a round without saying something."

Just the thought of it gets Jack a little hot and bothered; Bitty's plush mouth providing some delightfully dirty noises, gasps and whines dropping between bitten and kiss-swollen lips. He always sounds Very Southern, especially right before he comes, and usually gives Jack’s name a thorough usage, probably as God intended.

Bitty's eyes gleam. "Is that a challenge, Mr. Zimmermann?"

Jack wonders how he got so lucky.

“Your mouth should probably be full for this, just so we know how quiet I really am,” Bitty suggests, eyebrows wiggling a little too ridiculously to be seductive, and Jack laughs. He pushes Bitty back until he’s settled against the headboard and then wriggles down until he’s hovering over Bitty’s sweats.

They’re tented, though not nearly as much as Jack’s expecting. When he looks up at Bitty, they both laugh, and God, Jack’s never been happier to have weird, easy sex with anyone in his life.

“I guess we should come up with better foreplay than staring at a box of secret sex acts our friends gave us,” Bitty says, and it makes Jack laugh harder, burrowing his face into the exposed sliver of skin at Bitty’s hip.

Bitty shivers and Jack’s thumbs skim over the skin, already delightfully pink, because Bitty really does blush Everywhere.

“I can think of a few things,” Jack murmurs, kissing the skin gently before peeling away Bitty’s clothes.

It doesn’t take long to get things going. Jack’s always been very talented with his mouth, very willing to put it all over Bitty’s body, so slicking up Bitty’s cock with his tongue and wringing as much noise from him as possible is easy.

Except.

Jack looks up, taking his attention away from the task at hand only long enough to see Bitty’s eyes screwed shut, his lips beautifully red and held between his teeth. He’s flushed red and wanting, clutching at the sheets with one hand and Jack’s hair with the other. But he doesn’t make a sound.

Jack, who has grown so used to hearing the whines and gasps fall from Bitty like southern terms of endearment, is a bit disappointed. Until he remembers that this is a challenge. And it’s only fair if both teams are completely in the game.

Jack hollows his cheeks and sucks harder on the head of Bitty’s cock, running his tongue along hte sensitive underside and that earns him a startled gasp and Bitty’s other hand coming up to tangle in his hair. Jack own hands get busy, one of them wrapping around the base of Bitty’s cock and the other reaching down to stroke at his perineum, the skin smooth and soft and a little reminiscent of the previous note pulled from the box. Jack debates ducking lower with his tongue, just to get himself ahead (heh), but keeps his lips wrapped around Bitty’s beautiful dick. It’d be a shame to pull away now, when he can see the way Bitty’s lips are trembling.

And really, his efforts pay off in the end.

“You’re cheating,” Bitty gasps, back arched, and Jack preens.

He’d have to pull off to answer, and he has no desire to remove himself from Bitty, so he settles for taking as much of Bitty into his mouth as he can, until the tip brushes his throat. Bitty, at this point, shudders beneath him, thighs quivering and fingers tightening in his hair.

“Jack,” Bitty whines, then clamps a hand over his mouth.

Jack takes the win and swallows, tipping Bitty over the edge.

And if Jack fist pumps when Bitty cries out, no one has to know.

**
“I still maintain that you cheated.”

“You’re a sore loser, bud.”

“I wouldn’t call it losing, considering I got a blowjob for my efforts.”

Jack laughs and wraps his arm tighter around Bitty’s shoulders, drawing him in closer. With his arms full of happy, sated sunshine, Jack lets himself relax further. “We could repeat our experiment. See if a less amazing blowjob still yields the same results.”

Bitty peers up at him, eyes squinty, and he’s trying to hide his smile, but it isn’t working. “Are you offering to blow me again just to see if I can shut up?”

Jack presses his lips to Bitty’s hair, then trails lower to his temple, then his jaw. “For science,” he says, mouthing at the soft skin behind Bitty’s ear. “Maybe the neighbors will file a noise complaint.”

Bitty shivers. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack shrugs, then starts a hickey on Bitty’s neck. He’s pleased when Bitty lets out a low moan that turns into a breathy laugh.

He definitely Doesn't think about what else might be in the box. Or about how it’s Bitty’s turn to pick from it.