Drake quirks an eyebrow at 'typical' because even if Jesus has only ever had the most boring sex possible... everybody's got favorite things, right? Maybe he needs to be more specific?
"We don't have to get kinky," he clarifies, tugging the tie out of Jesus' hair and running his fingers through it, "but you must have preferences."
Another kiss, this time guiding Jesus in with a gentle grip on his hair. When it breaks this time, Drake stays close, murmuring against the other man's lips.
"I'm also cool just figuring them out for myself."
He recognizes what he's doing: Drake offered him a safe place, offered him protection from a law Jesus is powerless to fight, and Jesus's instinct is to withdraw hard. Don't offer details, don't offer preferences. Be amenable, have no preferences, be whatever is needed.
It's an old habit. It's a bad one.
"I like bottoming," he makes himself say, makes himself be honest. Drake has more than earned it. "I like it a little rough. Nothing crazy, but I like having little marks."
From people he likes, anyway. The strangers he's hooked up with to meet quota were strictly to the point, no kissing and no lingering reminders.
That's fortuitous. Drake isn't willing to actually hurt anyone, but he's also into a little bit of an edge. Knowing his partner is going to feel it the next day and leaving harmless reminders like hickeys or scratches. He had to be so careful for so long to mind his nails that it's freeing to not have to worry about things like that anymore... he nods, pleased with the honest answer, and pulls Jesus in tight against him. Far less gentle now that he's been given that hint.
"Nothing crazy," he echoes, before abruptly shifting his grip to lift Jesus off the ground just slightly. That lets him turn and toss the other man onto the nearby bed, climbing on to pin him there with a grin. "I can do that."
Then they're kissing again, Drake bracing himself on one arm as he drags his other hand down Jesus' torso, nails catching slightly over his ribs and skimming teasingly low on his stomach towards the fastenings of his pants.
He laughs as he hits the mattress, hooks his thumbs in Drake's waistband and pushes down. Without unfastening them they aren't going far, but it's the act that conveys the eagerness in him. He'd tear Drake's clothes right off if he could.
"Don't go easy on me," he warns, and nips Drake's neck.
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"We don't have to get kinky," he clarifies, tugging the tie out of Jesus' hair and running his fingers through it, "but you must have preferences."
Another kiss, this time guiding Jesus in with a gentle grip on his hair. When it breaks this time, Drake stays close, murmuring against the other man's lips.
"I'm also cool just figuring them out for myself."
no subject
It's an old habit. It's a bad one.
"I like bottoming," he makes himself say, makes himself be honest. Drake has more than earned it. "I like it a little rough. Nothing crazy, but I like having little marks."
From people he likes, anyway. The strangers he's hooked up with to meet quota were strictly to the point, no kissing and no lingering reminders.
no subject
"Nothing crazy," he echoes, before abruptly shifting his grip to lift Jesus off the ground just slightly. That lets him turn and toss the other man onto the nearby bed, climbing on to pin him there with a grin. "I can do that."
Then they're kissing again, Drake bracing himself on one arm as he drags his other hand down Jesus' torso, nails catching slightly over his ribs and skimming teasingly low on his stomach towards the fastenings of his pants.
no subject
"Don't go easy on me," he warns, and nips Drake's neck.