Ripper Street/They tried to make me go to rehab...

[thirstforvice]

Jackson loses track of time as he lies on Drake's small bed, the Sergeant safe and warm and alive in his arms, the both of them dozing in and out of sleep. It must be days later, that they're both sufficiently awake at the same time to hold a conversation.

And, as always, Jackson doesn't hang about.

"I need you to do something for me, Bennet. And, no matter what I do, or say, you have to promise me you will do what I tell you now. Even if I change my mind in the future. Can you do that?"

Comments

[thirstforvice]

"Correct answer," Jackson smiles, fingers sliding into Drake's hair and tugging him close for a kiss.

[thegentlemanthug]

His heart thuds loudly in his chest, as Homer brings his lips to his. The last time, he'd pushed him away - but now he can't imagine letting go.

Drake is awkward as a maid as he tries to kiss back, hoping Jackson doesn't realise this was all a terrible mistake.

[thirstforvice]

Too tired to spend much energy on considering the other man's technique, Jackson is happy simply that the other man is responding. Last time, he'd terrified his partner. All things considered, this is a huge step forward.

[thegentlemanthug]

Drake breaks the kiss and brushes his lips against Jackson's cheek.

"Resting," he repeats. "Not...getting acquainted."

[thirstforvice]

"Spoilsport," Jackson grumbles, though his eyes are heavy and his voice is slurring.

"Some... other time," he suggests sleepily.

[thegentlemanthug]

"I shall look forward to it," Drake says softly, and lets his eyes fall closed, content.