Jack presses a soft kiss to Bitty’s crown and gets a face full of soap for his trouble.
In Bitty’s defense, Jack wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour or so, and the Nicki Minaj playing in their kitchen had probably masked his entrance. A surprise kiss probably did warrant an errant hand covered in soap bubbles.
“Oh, sweetpea!” Bitty’s flinging a towel at him now, trying to get the soap bubbles out of his hair and out of his mouth as quickly as possible. “I’m so sorry.”
Jack would say it’s fine, but he’s currently being assaulted by a towel and his mouth tastes like the inside of a dishwasher. It’s Not Great.
“I guess that’s what I get for trying to be romantic without warning,” Jack says, as Bitty’s flustered apologies continue.
“Oh hush,” Bitty laughs.
“Or what?” Jack teases. “You’ll wash my mouth out with soap?”
Bitty hits him with the towel on purpose this time.
“You’re home early,” Bitty says, slinging the towel over his shoulder and plunging his hands back into the suds-filled sink.
“Yeah, practice finished early and I’d rather spend the time with you.”
“Jack Zimmermann, picking little old me over hockey?” Bitty’s eyes twinkle as he grins up at Jack. “The NHL community must be in shambles.”
Jack rolls his eyes and leans in again, this time giving Bitty fair warning before pressing his lips softly against Bitty’s temple.
Bitty hums and presses up on his toes for a proper kiss. “And here I thought I’d spend the afternoon washing dishes.”
“Why are you washing dishes by hand?” Jack asks, leaning his hip against the counter, because last he checked they have a high-end dishwasher. The Highest, because Jack is an Actual Millionaire.
“Sometimes jobs feel more finished if you do them with your hands.” Bitty replies, handing Jack a towel that isn’t soaked and his favorite casserole dish.
“Is that so?” Jack takes the dish and dries it thoroughly. “Are there other things you do better with your hands?”
The innuendo flies right over Bitty’s head and out the open window.
“My mama used to do laundry by hand sometimes. When she had to wash the Christmas tablecloth or her favorite Sunday dress. I always thought that was something extra special.”
“My dad did that with his lucky socks,” Jack replies. “Apparently sink washing was fine for luck, but I think it was just because Maman didn’t want his smelly socks mixed in with her laundry.”
“As somebody who now does laundry with a hockey player in the household, I can’t fault her for that.”
Jack elbows him and Bitty does it right back and Jack has never felt more in love.
“Are you doing laundry today?”
Bitty nods, fishing out the last mixing bowl from the sink and tugging the stopper from the drain. “Just a few loads. You offering your assistance?”
“Sure.” And if Jack’s assistance involves a few other things, so be it.
He thinks about the note in his pocket and smiles.
Who says domestic life can’t be fun and exciting?
And maybe Jack came home early to seduce his partner. Maybe he pulled the note this morning and spent all of practice thinking about coming home to the soft, warm space that they’ve built, where Bitty dances in the kitchen with soap suds up to his elbows.
And maybe Jack also thought about fucking Bitty on the kitchen table again. He can’t be blamed if it was really great the first time. It only stands to try it again, make sure the repeated outcomes are all just as good. For science.
Bitty’s already got the basket loaded with dirty clothes balanced against his hip by the time Jack finishes putting the dried dishes away, brain derailed between opening the cupboard and thinking about fucking on the table.
“You comin’, sweetpea?”
Jack hastily puts the last dish away and decides his seduction plan is a go, even if he’ll have to get creative now that they’re moving to a room without a table.
The 110% between his first and last name doesn’t always have to mean dedication. Maybe, in this case, it can mean creative.
Jack’s shirt is still damp, still smells like soap, and really, if he’s going full-scale seduction, he’s going to need to use his Assets.
Bitty does stop and stare when Jack peels it off, which is a definite Victory, even if Bitty doesn’t know he’s playing.
Jack drops it in the basket on Bitty’s hip, and maybe he flexes a bit when he does it. Maybe.
Bitty turns on his heel and immediately walks into their laundry room, but Jack doesn’t miss the way his cheeks pink.
They’ve seen each other naked countless times. Hell, Jack and Bitty have Done Things to each other more times than Jack can remember, and yet the everyday stuff still feels blush-worthy. Jack imagines in a few decades they’ll be the annoying, aging lovebirds still holding hands and groping at each other at every opportunity. Jack can’t wait.
Until then, however, there’s plenty of groping and handsy things to do in the present.
Jack follows Bitty into the laundry room, which isn’t much more than a glorified closet, and decides he’d really like to blow Bitty in this closet too.
Bitty’s moving clothes from the washer to the drier, and honestly, Jack shouldn’t have agreed to get the top-loading machines, because a front loader would provide more opportunity for ass ogling. Sure, his knees are better for it, even if Bitty complains about the machine being just a touch too tall, but at what cost? Priorities, Zimmermann, Jack thinks, and proceeds to ogle Bitty’s ass anyway.
The dryer does, fortunately, give Jack a lovely surface to rest his hands on when he boxes Bitty in, once the door has been shut and the machine set to work. It is, admittedly, a bit taller than they’d expected. But after eyeballing it quickly and unprofessionally, Jack thinks it’d almost be the perfect height for blowjobs, and Jack is more than willing to bend a bit to make up the difference.
Bitty hums when Jack presses up against him, and Jack is very aware of the way his bare skin brushes against the rolled up sleeve of Bitty’s shirt, the edge of his collar, the soft skin of his forearms. Jack runs his hands down Bitty’s arms and very gently slides his lips along the curve of Bitty’s ear.
“You’re in a romantic mood today,” Bitty says, leaning back against him.
“I guess it could be classified as romantic,” Jack says close to Bitty’s ear, Loving the way Bitty shivers under his hands.
Bitty turns around, and as Delicious as Bitty’s backside is, his face is truly Something Else. “Romantic in the laundry room.”
“I’ve been called worse things,” Jack says, tipping his face close to Bitty’s.
“I could call you slacker; we’ve got two more loads to do, mister. Your lucky socks aren’t going to wash themselves.” Bitty, who is Definitely a little hard in his shorts, just leans against the dryer and smirks at Jack.
Fuck it, Jack decides, the 110% will always mean determination.
Jack hoists Bitty up onto the dryer, still spinning away as it works.
“Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty gasps, all feigned scandalisation, as Jack starts unbuttoning Bitty’s shirt. “Are you trying to seduce me in our laundry room?”
Jack’s thumb gets caught on a buttonhole. “Is it working?”
“You ridiculous man— you couldn’t wait until the chores were done?”
Jack finally gets to the last button and presses his hands to the soft skin of Bitty’s stomach. “We’re domestic and fun.”
Bitty laughs and cups Jack’s face between his hands, pulling him back up from where he’s seriously considering leaving a hickey beside Bitty’s bellybutton.
“We are domestic and fun,” he says. “But you’re spoiling my surprise.”
“Is the surprise that I’m going to blow you on top of the dryer? Because that’s my surprise.” Jack leans in and presses a kiss to Bitty’s nose as he speaks, because that beautiful blush is inching its way down Bitty’s chest, and if he can’t kiss that he has to kiss something.
Bitty laughs, leaning back so his shoulders are against the wall. The dryer puts Bitty’s lips just slightly higher than Jack’s, which would be fine if Bitty weren’t also using the length of the top to stay just out of reach. He lets go of Jack’s face and trails his fingers down over Jack’s shoulders, probably Very Aware of how Jack can’t comfortably reach him without the hard dryer edge becoming way too familiar with his dick.
“That’s a good surprise,” Bitty agrees, but shakes his head. “Mine involved some serious preparation, so I was procrastinating by cleaning.”
“Not by baking?” Jack chirps, leaning down and teasing his nose along the top of Bitty’s shorts. He was right, it’s totally a manageable distance.
“I knew I’d just bake a sex pie, and then you’d suspect something.”
“I always suspect something,” Jack says, reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the note he’d pulled that morning. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”
“Jack Zimmermann, don’t use pick up lines on me when I’m sitting on our dryer.”
“It kind of seems like the perfect place to get hot and heavy.”
“Lord, it’s a wonder we ever have sex at all.” Bitty rolls his eyes, but it’s all fond Southern exasperation, and reaches into his pocket.
They swap notes and Jack doesn’t even bother moving away from Bitty, just settles his elbows on either side of him on the dryer and leans on Bitty’s chest to read.
Do something unexpected
Jack eyes Bitty expectantly.
“What did you need extreme preparation for?”
Bitty blushes beautifully and pushes himself up off the wall so that they’re closer to eye to eye.
“I wasn’t sure what to do yet, so I started cleaning the apartment. Some of my best ideas happen while I’m cleaning. Or in the shower— Lord, I should’ve surprised you in the shower.”
“I do have several shower sex fantasies we have yet to play out. I can go out and pretend to be surprised if you want. That’s both domestic and unexpected. ”
“It’s dangerous is what it is, and we both know it.”
“We can’t have this sex argument again, I won last time with bathtub sex.”
“Somehow all of our sex-related concerns end with us having sex.”
“I wonder why,” Jack says, then slides one hand to settle over the front of Bitty’s shorts. “You don’t have to surprise me to be sexy, Bits.”
“We don’t have to have sex during chores to prove domesticity isn’t boring,” Bitty replies, his fingers weaving through Jack’s hair and tugging gently.
“You’re right,” Jack says, leaning in a pressing a kiss to the corner of Bitty’s lips. “But consider this: I could blow you on top of the dryer and it’ll be both domestic and fun. Shitty would be so proud of our subversion of the heteronormative outlook on domestic responsibilities. By having sex. On the dryer.”
“You’re pulling words out of your ass, Jack Zimmermann. Besides, we both know Lardo is way kinkier than Shitty,” Bitty says, snagging Jack’s chin and tugging him closer for a proper kiss, which he promptly breaks to continue speaking. “They have 100% done things on or near every single one of their appliances. I found a toaster in their bedroom once.”
“I think Lardo was in her bong making phase and just looking for new materials,” Jack says, tugging on Bitty’s shorts to try and bring him closer.
“You say that like sex and weed don’t go hand in hand with those two.”
“Maybe chores are our weed,” Jack says, and Immediately regrets it. He was distracted by skin and responsibility subversion.
Bitty laughs and shakes his head. “If chores were our weed we would be living in a very different environment. One that would probably include sex on the appliances way more frequently.”
“That doesn’t sound very different from how Shitty and Lardo do it.” Jack raises his eyebrows.
Bitty purses his lips.
“Fuck it, fine, let’s have sex on the dryer.”
“That’s the spirit.” Jack laughs and finally succeeds in tugging Bitty closer.
Bitty’s lips are Very Distracting, but Jack is a man with a seductive mission, and he figures maybe they can forego making out this once and just get right to the domestic machinery blow jobs.
Bitty seems on board with this plan when Jack drops his lips to a closer target, trailing wet kisses down Bitty’s open shirt. He blows a raspberry against Bitty’s stomach too, just because he can, and the squawk Bitty lets out is Entirely Worth the heel that kicks his side.
“Jack Zimmermann, this is not seduction,” Bitty gasps, even though Jack can feel how hard Bitty is through his shorts.
Jack just shakes his head and tugs down Bitty’s shorts. He debates leaving them on for just a moment, then decides the open shirt is enough clothing.
“Is this better seduction?” Jack asks, then wraps his lips around the head of Bitty’s cock. Bitty can’t chirp him if he’s too busy gasping Jack’s name.
“You’re ridiculous,” Bitty says, but it comes out a little bit strained.
Jack just hums and takes Bitty deeper.
It’s slightly awkward but totally doable, and Jack feels vindicated in both his sexual seduction and his appliance assessment. Any potential back issues are a problem for later Jack. Current Jack has a mind and a dick to blow.
He’s good at this, really good at this, because he’s spent years paying close attention and carefully categorizing the things that Bitty likes, the things that make his body shake, the things that make his eyes screw shut and his mouth drop open and his voice fill the air with a hushed litany of “Yes, ah, Jack, yes!”
And Jack does All Of Them. Well and Repeatedly.
Domestic sex can suck his dick. Or, well—hyperboles don’t matter when he’s blowing Bitty. Especially when he’s blowing Bitty This Well.
The machine is moving underneath them, and it’s a gentle motion, nothing that could unbalance them. It is enough, however, for Jack to feel Bitty shaking minutely beneath his hands, inside his mouth. It’s a weird sensation, but Bitty’s practically falling apart at the seams so Jack figures it must have a little more impact on his end.
Mindful of the motion, Jack drags Bitty’s hips to the very edge of the dryer, settling Bitty’s thighs over his shoulders. It’s messy and close now, heady with Bitty surrounding him so entirely, but Jack loves it. He has to bend a little bit further, but Jack is Committed now, and he’s going to see this blow job through.
He glides his fingers through the excess spit along Bitty’s dick the next time he bobs his head, and that makes it messier and headier and Jack feels So Alive.
It’s not really effective long-term lube, but it’ll work for tracing a single finger around Bitty’s hole, just enough slightly wet pressure to press Bitty closer to the edge.
“Jack!” Bitty gasps, fingers scrambling against the edge of the dryer, searching for purchase, searching for something, desperate and needy.
Jack only has time to slide his finger in to the first knuckle before Bitty goes rigid and comes down his throat. And because Jack has embraced the many meanings of the 110%, he swallows around Bitty and revels in the way it draws forward another high-pitched “Jack!”
Jack takes his time, bobbing his head again and gently running his tongue along the bottom until Bitty’s shaking and whimpering.
“Jack, it’s too—I can’t— ”
Jack has mercy and pulls off, pressing a Very Wet Kiss to Bitty’s thigh. Then another, just breathing while Bitty trembles through the last of his overstimulation.
“I understand why washing machines are associated with masturbation,” Bitty says, hands still gripping the edge of the dryer with white knuckles, even though his expression is slack and flushed, eyes unfocused. “The vibrations are insane.”
“Maybe next time we’ll make it onto the washing machine. Good to know it works for dryers too.”
Jack grins and kisses Bitty’s other thigh, tempted to lean down and start another round, except that he hasn’t come yet and his dick is aching to join the party.
“Jack Zimmermann,” Bitty says, then clears his throat when his voice breaks. “You cannot let the world know how good you are at blow jobs. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone else who has a dick. Because I don’t share. And I love you. Did I mention you’re really good at this?”
“I’m a Stanley cup champion of dick sucking.”
Bitty laughs, breathless and sated and so, so fond.
“When I can move again, I’m coming for you.”
“You just did.” Jack smirks.
“Shut up and help me off this dryer.”
Jack laughs and does as he’s told.
Bitty takes a moment to adjust to being upright, then turns them so Jack’s the one leaning against the machine and promptly sticks his hand down Jack’s pants.
Bitty’s right: the vibrations are insane.
Jack’s already pretty far gone, because contrary to Bitty’s earlier statement, all of this was seduction, and Jack is All About seducing Bitty. It got him started and now Bitty’s there, leaning in and breathing words of adoration against Jack’s neck, hand working deftly to divest him of his pants.
“Look at you,” Bitty says, the hand not wrapped around Jack’s dick fisted in his shirt, “I’m just touching you now and you’re already so far, just from lovin’ on me. God, Jack, you give so well. Stanley cup champion of blow jobs indeed—and you like it too.”
It’s Jack’s turn to grip the edge of the dryer and shiver under Bitty’s touch, under the soft brush of lips against his neck as Bitty talks. Filthy and knowing exactly what he’s doing to Jack.
“You like watching me fall apart,” Bitty says. “But let me tell you something, Jack Zimmermann.”
Jack, who’s knees start to shake, who can feel himself riding the line, toeing the edge, reaching for a release by Bitty’s hand and Bitty’s words.
“I love the way you look on your knees, taking me in, almost as much as I enjoy being on my knees for you. It’s almost the pinnacle of seduction.” Bitty twists his wrist and drags his lips down Jack’s neck and it’s Too Much.
Jack comes between them, striping up his chest, and the only thing holding him up is Bitty’s body pressed to his, pushing him against the still-shaking dryer.
They stand there only long enough for Jack to catch his breath and then, ridiculously, for the dryer to beep at them.
“Huh,” Bitty says, peering down at the machine. “We finished before it did.”
Jack laughs so hard he has to lay down on the laundry room floor, but he definitely takes Bitty down with him. Bitty sputters and elbows him and makes noise about finishing the laundry and that they’re basically lying on the dirty towels Bitty sorted earlier, but Jack just wraps his arms around Bitty’s waist and pillows his head on Bitty’s chest.
Bitty sighs, but cards his fingers through Jack’s hair.
He can hear Bitty’s heartbeat slow to a normal rate, feel Bitty breathing beneath him, and it’s Everything.
“I still get to surprise you at some point,” Bitty says, and his fingers in Jack’s hair are making it harder to pay attention to anything.
“You said you hadn’t thought of something.” Jack teases. “Hence the procrastination cleaning.”
“Yeah, but,” Bitty says, and Jack can hear his smile even if he can’t see it, “I’ve got a few ideas in mind.”