“You really think it’s a good idea?” Bitty asks, glancing at where the box sits, looking a little too innocent for what it contains.
Jack’s not really sure what he thinks. A part of him (mostly powered by his dick) thinks it sounds like a Great Idea. The Best Idea. A Universally Grand Idea.
The rest of him, led by his Stupid Anxiety Brain, isn’t so sure.
Because Shitty and Lardo gave them the box. And it’s weird to do sex things with a gift from your friends? But it’s Shitty and Lardo. Their friendship goes beyond whatever supposedly “ordinary” things friends do for each other. And it’s not like they’re having sex with Shitty and Lardo. That makes it less weird, yeah?
He probably should’ve said some of that out loud, Jack realizes belatedly. He’s been quiet long enough to make Bitty feel nervous.
“I’m not sure, Bits. What matters is what we’re comfortable with, right?”
Bitty twists his fingers in the material of his shirt, looking down at where his legs are folded beneath him. He looks small like this, like Jack could pick him up and stick him in his pocket. He probably shouldn’t think about Bitty in relation to his pants while they’re having a serious conversation though.
Jack rubs his palms over his athletic shorts.
The conversation stutters to a halt after that.
It takes Jack almost a week to gather up the courage to address the box again.
“It’s not that I didn’t enjoy it, Jack,” Bitty says, chopping fruit because Jack is incapable of coming between Bitty and his pie. A different avenue for exploration at a later date, perhaps.
“I think it’s pretty clear we both enjoyed it,” Jack says.
Bitty throws a sliced strawberry at him, and his face is almost as red as the fruit.
“Hush you. We both know we’re capable of having sex on our own without interference. I just want to know if…” Bitty trails off, eyes focused on the cutting board, rhubarb cut perfectly, because Bitty can have a sexual crisis and cut pie filling at the same time.
Bitty puts down the knife but doesn’t look up at Jack. “If you felt like we needed the interference. If we needed Lardo and Shitty to make our relationship more exciting.”
“Bits.” Jack slides in behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, pressing his chin to Bitty’s temple.
“It’s not stupid, bud.” Jack nudges Bitty until he turns around to look at him, still wrapped up in Jack. “You and me? We’re the biggest and most important thing to me. We could never have sex again and I’d be happy. We could throw the box out the window and pretend nothing happened and I would still wake up elated every day because I get to be with you.”
Bitty’s pink now, fingertips tracing aimless patterns on Jack’s chest. His smile outstrips the wattage of their kitchen light bulbs, though, and Jack has to lean down to kiss him, even if it’s more teeth than anything else.
“It’s not about the interference, bud,” Jack says. “It’s about you and me. And this is your call.”
“No.” Bitty looks over at the box on the table, awaiting judgment. For a moment, Jack’s heart sinks a bit. Because he really does like the box, really does want to find out what else is inside. He meant what he said to Bitty, though. And he’d pick Bitty over anything else, any day, including their weird brunch sex box.
But then Bitty pats Jack’s chest with his palm and twists out of his grip. “It’s our call. We’re a team. And if we want to have creative box sex, regardless of who it came from, then my goodness we’re gonna do it. For us.”
“You’re sure?” Jack asks, not even bothering to hide his grin.
Bitty smiles up at him, all the tension gone. “Like you said, Jack. It’s not about what’s in the box, it’s about us. So fish something out.”
“Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty says, scandalized. “I’m in the middle of making a pie.”
Jack looks over at the cutting board, at the fruit that isn’t going anywhere. The dough is still chilling in the fridge. The oven hasn’t even been turned on yet, Jack knows, because he can see the dials on their fancy oven. He smirks and snatches the box up.
“Okay. I’m gonna pick one, you let me know when you’re ready.”
He wanders out, trying to keep his pace slow, his gait steady, even if he’s burning to see what other opportunities the box will bring them.
Jack makes it all the way to their bedroom before Bitty barrels into him.
“If I never finish this pie, it’s your fault.”
Jack just dumps the box on the bed in favor of kissing Bitty.
They get a little sidetracked with making out, something that never makes Jack fail to appreciate the way Bitty’s hips fit in his hands, the way his mouth is soft and sweet, the way he leans into Jack like there’s nowhere else (like there’s no one else) he’d rather be. They end up on the bed too, which is progress.
It’s Bitty who pulls away, flushed and breathless. “We’ve got a note to read, Mr. Zimmermann.”
“We could just keep doing this.” Jack leans back in, and Bitty lets him tug his lower lip between his teeth for a few moments, before sliding his hands up between them.
“There ain’t no reason we can’t do both.” Bitty’s laugh is breathy, and he leans far enough away from Jack that he can snag the box from where Jack abandoned it at the foot of the bed.
He scoots back up and props it in his lap, tapping the lid with his fingertips.
“I want to.” Bitty’s fingers still. “As long as you do?”
Jack nods. “I do.”
Bitty opens the box and peers down at the messy stack of folded notes. He plucks the one from the very top and shuts the box again, like by choosing as quickly as possible they can avoid anything truly strange. Knowing Shitty and Lardo, there are sure to be some strange ones.
“What’s it say?” Jack leans closer, both to wrap his arms around Bitty’s waist and to read over his shoulder.
‘You’re both beautiful motherfuckers, so give that face in the mirror a little love’
Bitty’s shaking, Jack can feel him, and after a moment it becomes incredibly obvious that Bitty’s going to laugh both of them off their bed.
“It’s not that funny, bud,” Jack says, even though he can feel his own smile growing.
“It’s pretty funny.” Bitty drops the note and turns to press his face into Jack’s hair, still giggling breathlessly. “Shitty and Lardo either want us to watch ourselves have sex or they want us to have a really aggressive self-compliment session.”
“Either way, we’re going to need a mirror.”
“I think Lardo left her compact in the couch the other day.”
Jack can feel Bitty’s grin against his temple and twists them both so that he can lean over Bitty’s giggling form.
“We might need something a little bigger,” Jack says, eyes drifting to the corner of their room.
Jack can’t help but feel like this was planned, because he and Bitty just bought the standing mirror the other week, for game days when he didn’t have Bitty around to help straighten out his jacket. Definitely Not just so Jack could get full body selfies from Bitty on roadies. No, Practical Use Only.
And mirror sex counted as practical. Completely.
“You wanna use the selfie mirror for sex?” Bitty wiggles his eyebrows and hitches his fingers under the hem of Jack’s shirt.
“It’s not just for selfies.” Jack dips his head and drags his teeth lightly over Bitty’s neck.
“You’re right,” Bitty says, voice breathless for different reasons now. “It’s for selfies and mirror sex.”
Jack rolls off him and strips out of his shirt. “Is that a yes?”
Bitty licks his lips and grins. “Yes, Jack, use the selfie mirror to ravish me.”
It’s almost a race for them to get out of their clothes, until it’s just skin and Bitty’s long legs and the easy way Jack fits between them.
“We can’t really see the mirror from here,” Bitty says, looking over Jack’s shoulder. Jack makes good use of the movement and plants his mouth on Bitty’s neck.
Bitty hums and draws his nails gently over Jack’s shoulders.
“Jack, we can’t fulfill the prompt from here.”
“Fine.” Jack pulls off and scoots down the bed, settling on the corner, so that all of him is on display in the mirror. “We can have corner-of-the-bed sex.”
Bitty laughs and lets Jack pull him down to where he is. He has to stand and settle himself on Jack’s lap, but it gives Jack the Best Idea.
“Bud,” he breathes, and his dick was interested before, but even just the thought of the Best Idea is getting him Going. Bitty shifts on his lap, smirking, and he can Definitely feel what Jack’s dick is doing. “You should ride me facing the mirror.”
Bitty’s mouth drops open, face slack. “Jack Zimmermann, you kinky man.”
“Is that a yes?”
Bitty nods, a frantic movement that sets his whole body in motion, and it isn’t long before they’re rocking together, Bitty’s legs spread obscenely in the mirror as Jack slides another finger into him.
Their bedside lube stash is Definitely being affected by the box, and Jack can’t find a single thing wrong with that.
“Jack!” Bitty gasps, arching his back, legs spread further, and the sight of him in the mirror is almost Too Much for Jack. Everything is on display, golden and waiting for him. It’s Breathtaking.
Jack crooks his fingers inside Bitty, letting his other hand wander across Bitty’s stomach, enormous and encompassing. He can see it in the mirror, and it makes something flare inside his chest.
“Sweetpea,” Bitty says, eyelids fluttering. “Not that I’m not--ah, yes, there--not loving this, but I’m really hoping we can get to the main event now.”
“Maybe fingering you is the main event,” Jack teases, even though his dick is Dying to get inside of Bitty.
“Jack Zimmermann, please do not deny me my right to ride your dick straight into oblivion, I am begging you.”
“It wouldn’t really be straight into oblivion.”
Bitty rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, which Jack can see clearly in the mirror, and he laughs.
“I’m invested now,” Bitty says, sighing when Jack eases his fingers out. Jack pushed Bitty forward slightly, so he has a little room to slick up his cock and line them up. He makes a point of looking in the mirror, though, to watch Bitty’s face as Jack enters him.
They stay like that for a moment, then Jack settles his hands on Bitty’s hips and pulls him back, sinking in deeper and reveling in the warmth of Bitty’s skin on his. It’s Addicting, the feeling of Bitty’s body welcoming him in, warm and tight and slick like it was made just for Jack. Like the two of them were made to find this closeness with one another.
Then Bitty rocks back and something changes, the closeness still there, but now the heady desire to find completion in each other is suddenly much more Pressing.
Bitty’s flushed skin is a sight to behold, and Jack can’t decide if he wants to look at it directly or through the reflection in the mirror, where he can see his own dark eyes over Bitty’s shoulder.
Jack tightens his grip on Bitty’s hips, watching the way Bitty’s skin yields to his hands, the way his body leans closer, like having Jack inside of him isn’t enough, is never enough.
Jack glances up at the mirror again, sees Bitty’s eyes are closed, and that just won’t do at all.
“Bits,” he says, voice low and rough, dragging his stubble along Bitty’s shoulder as he speaks. “You have to watch. See how good you look.”
He’s not great at talking, dirty or otherwise, but he wants Bitty to look at himself, needs him to see how good he looks in the mirror, riding Jack. Every part of him is on display, flushed red and shining with sweat, and Jack Can’t look away, so why should Bitty be able to?
Bitty blinks and opens his eyes, meeting Jack’s gaze in the mirror.
And they have sex face to face all the time. They’ve had more than one Really Intense Kind Of Cheesy session where they spend the whole time looking into each other’s eyes. It’s hot and Jack isn’t ashamed of how much he Loves Bitty.
This is different, though, another level of connection, one where Jack can see everything twice, can see both sides of Bitty. Everything from the trembling skin of his shoulders, back pressed against Jack’s chest, to the tanned skin of his front. From the delicious curve of his neck, to where his cock sits, patient and pink between his legs. It bobs as Jack watches, riding the motions of Bitty fucking himself down onto Jack.
“Jack,” Bitty groans, and his fingernails dig into Jack’s thighs, his hips rocking relentlessly. “Jack, please.”
“Can you see us, bud?” Jack asks, thrusting up hard, loving the way Bitty keens in his hold, trembling under his hands, around his cock. “Can you see how good you look?”
“Yeah.” Bitty’s voice is steady, even if his expression is shy, like he doesn’t want to admit that the beautiful picture of them moving together in the mirror is as Mind-Blowingly Hot as Jack knows it is.
“Do you think this counts as a little love to the face in the mirror?” Jack meets Bitty’s gaze in the mirror and mouths at his shoulder.
“I think,” Bitty gasps, loosening one hand from its grip on Jack’s thigh to reach back and tangle in Jack’s hair, “it’s a lot of love.”
Jack doesn’t have much of a response to that, but it’s okay, because Bitty sounds like he’s beyond talking too, and it only takes one of Jack’s hands snaking forward to wrap around Bitty’s cock, stroking a few times before he tumbles over the edge.
Jack strokes him through it, gentling his thrusts until he knows Bitty’s done, then picks up the pace, letting himself get lost in the feeling of Bitty’s body, the sight of him in the mirror, taking everything Jack gives, stomach coated in his own come.
Jack doesn’t last much longer. He shudders through his orgasm, then collapses backward, taking Bitty with him.
Bitty, in slightly better control of his limbs, rolls off him and groans into their sheets.
Jack’s breathing too hard to even do that.
“We are,” Bitty breathes, turning slightly so he can look Jack in the eye, “both beautiful motherfuckers.”
This time it’s Jack who almost laughs them off the bed.