You hear his groan from the kitchen, even over the roar of the water running from the faucet. He’s home. You fight the urge to run to him, to throw your arms around him. You’ve been fighting this urge ever since he got back from Australia, wanting nothing more than to lay in bed with him and touch and lick and cuddle him to make up for the months he spent half a world away from you.

But his schedule didn’t allow much time for that. He was filming a movie and a commercial, producing and writing music with several different artists, and collaborating with Trace for William Rast’s spring line. His nights, however, were reserved for you. He was home by eight every night for dinner and Netflix but most of the time dinner was reserved for midnight snack fests between sessions and the movie never got watched.

You hear him hiss and you turn to find him standing in the doorway, shoulders slumped and face frowning. His clothes are covered in dirt and he just looks generally filthy and more to your concern, deeply unhappy. Your eyebrows knit, dropping the towel you were using to dry your hands and walking around the kitchen island to go to him, fingers itching to touch him, arms aching to wrap around him.

“What happened to you, babe?” you ask, one hand cupping his face, thumb trying to wipe away a smudge of dirt on his cheekbone.

“I was drug through dirt,” he says flatly and you giggle slightly despite yourself and he glares at you in an annoyed way.

“Why on earth did they do that?” you ask and he sighs.

“It’s the premise of the commercial,” he breathes, bringing a hand up to wipe his eye but frowns deeply at his filthy hands. “Ew…”

He places his hands gently on your upper arms, steadying you as he moves past you to go to the sink to wash his hands. You notice he’s walking slightly bow legged, his steps cautious and slow.

“You sore, baby?” you say, walking over to him and running a hand up and down his back, watching him scrub diligently at his finger nails.

He groans in response, turning off the water and reaching for the towel to dry his hands. He tosses it aside, leaning his hip against the counter and winces.

“Yeah I was on wires being jerked around all day,” he sighs, reaching down to adjust himself gently and hisses before putting his hands on his hips. A tremor runs through you.

“You want me to run a bath for you?” you ask, slipping your arms around his neck and his eyes close, head falling back.

“That would be amazing,” he groans, his voice pulled from the back of his throat.

You place a kiss on his throat, pulling him close for a quick hug before pulling back and grabbing his hand, tugging him up the stairs. You release him once you reach his bedroom, leaving him to undress while you run his bath.

Steam is wafting from the water when you turn off the faucet and you drop a few bath beads in, watching them dissolve almost instantly. You turn to call him in but find him standing in the doorway, completely naked, waiting patiently. You survey his form, frowning slightly at the darkened blotches over his ribs and arms, bruises already forming. The skin around his hips is red and raw and you look away, your body heating up as your eyes take in his nakedness. You fight the urge to ravage him right there, reaching your hand out to him and he gives you a warm smile, his large hand swallowing yours.

You hold him steady as he steps in the tub, fighting the shiver that runs through you when he hisses. He steps in completely and sits down, a deep moan pulling from his throat, his head falling back, eyes closing. Your entire body is screaming at you to peel your clothes off and get in with him, but he needs to relax right now. You lean down pressing your lips to his forehead, your eyes peeking to see a lazy smile tug at his lips.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he sighs, his hand pulling from the water to cup your face and pull you in for a sweet kiss.

“You want some wine or something?” you ask, your nose nuzzling against his affectionately and he sighs.

“Jack,” he says, his eyes closing and then snapping open as he adds, “Straight.”

You nearly moan, something about him being able to tolerate the nasty drink much less enjoy it, turning you on like it always does. You giggle at him, nodding as you turn to walk out of the bathroom, dimming the lights for him on the way out.

Coming back up the stairs and into the bedroom, you walk slowly in, a tumbler in your hand, peeking into the bathroom before letting your presence be known. He’s sitting there quietly, eyes closed, arms resting on the sides of the tub. He’s humming softly, his head tipped back and you lick your lips, watching his adam’s apple bob as he swallows.

You purposefully scuff your foot against the carpet of his bedroom before stepping into the bathroom, letting your presence be known. His head tilts toward you, his eyes sliding open.

“Two ice cubes just like you like it,” you say and he grins widely at you as you press the glass into his hand.

“Thanks baby,” he says, swirling the liquid in the glass before taking a drink.

You fight the urge to moan as he swallows, not even wincing, just letting his head fall back in a sigh, balancing the glass against the side of the tub. You ruffle his curls and he grins, his eyes staying closed. You turn to leave, prepared to give him space to relax even though your body is screaming otherwise.

You go back downstairs, putting the dinner you just made in plastic containers for consumption later, listening for sounds of him leaving the bath. You grab a clean towel from the hall closet and toss it in the dryer for about ten minutes before taking it out and making your way back up the stairs.

You enter his bathroom and see him sitting up in the tub, cupping water in one hand and bringing it up, letting the water fall from his fingers. His hair is wet, wild curls sticking out in all directions, his shoulders hunched forward as he swirls his hands in the water. He catches sight of you and grins sheepishly.

“Ready to get out?” you ask and he sighs, unplugging the drain.

He stands and steps out of the tub as you step forward, wrapping the warm towel around him. He moans softly as you rub down his chest, drying him off slowly, working your way down his body. You’re crouched on your knees, drying his ankles when you feel his palm on your cheek. You look up and find him gazing down at you, quiet lust building in his blue eyes.

You grin up at him, tossing the towel aside and skimming your palms up the outside of his thighs, leaning in and placing a soft kiss on his knee cap. He shivers as you kiss up his thigh, your hands moving up to hold his hips, your tongue swiping the raw skin where his leg meets his body and he whimpers softly.

You pull back, looking up at him and finding his face slightly pained. You give him a sympathetic look.

“Tender?” you ask, stroking his hip gently and he nods with a sigh. “Come on baby,” you say, standing up and taking his hand, “let’s get you in bed.”

He gives you a conflicted look before nodding slightly and you realize that maybe he doesn’t want you to stop. This realization causes a flash of heat to race through your body and settle between your legs. He lets you lead him into his bedroom, shuffling slowly behind you. You urge him to lay back on the bed and he does, looking up at you after he settles in the messy sheets, a testament to the previous night’s activities. His expression is slightly longing, blue eyes gazing at you tiredly.

“You want me to take care of you, baby?” you ask, giving your voice the husky quality he loves and he looks at you slightly startled before chuckling lowly.

“How you gonna do that?” he asks, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

You grin at him easily, crawling onto the bed, letting your long hair tickle up his legs as you crouch over him. His breathing is shallow as he widens his legs more, allowing you to lay between them. You rest your cheek on his thigh, fingers walking up his hipbone, feeling the raw flesh there, feeling his muscles tense.

You press a kiss on his inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick dot his skin and you hear him gasp. You nibble gently and feel his hand delve into your hair, fingers massaging your scalp slowly. You torture him, nibbling and licking and sucking his thighs, hips, and lower belly, being sure to let your hair brush over his hardening length. He hisses and hums, the hand in your hair pressing impatiently, his nails scratching at your scalp.

He jumps and hisses when you take him in your hand and you look up to find his face slightly pained. You loosen your grip slightly, holding him gently.

“Are you okay?” you ask and he nods, his eyes closed. “You want me to stop?”

“NO!” he exclaims, his eyes flying open and you giggle at him. He grin sheepishly. “You’ll just have to-” he pauses licking his lips, “keep it slick.”

You grin at him. “Oh really?” you ask and he nods, shivering a little as your breath fans over his sensitive flesh. “Like this?”

You lay the flat of your tongue against the tip of his dick and watch his eyes roll back of his head, his hips rising slightly, a strangled groan pulling from his throat. He moves his other hand to your hair, pulling it back away from your face. You glance up at him as you take the head into your mouth and find him staring down at you, head lolled to the side, lips parted and panting.

You pull off of him, licking your lips before tilting your head and sliding your lips up and down the side of his shaft, and he yelps, jerking slightly and you pull back immediately, looking up at him alarmed.

He winces. “The harness... there was a lot of pinching and… just… just be gentle.”

You giggle a little. “I think I just wasn’t-” you pause, licking your lips, “wet enough.”

He shivers slightly, mouth falling open when you kiss the angry red spot, tongue laving it gently and he hisses, but this time out of pleasure. You pull back, looking at his cock, deciding where you want to tease next. You flick your tongue against the sensitive bead of skin just underneath the head. He whines, hips arching off the bed. You nibble slightly and his breathing hitches, a soft gasp of pleasure falling past his lips.

“Please baby,” he pants, his fingers tightening in your hair and you glance up to find his eyes begging you.

You oblige, taking him into your mouth and sucking gently. He moans, deep in his chest, wriggling impatiently. You work your tongue around him as you make your way slowly down his shaft, enjoying his whimpers and moans. You pull up, letting him slide from your mouth so you and lick at the head of his cock, flicking your tongue against it rapidly.

“Oh my fucking god,” he groans, his head falling back against the pillows, gritting his teeth.

His breathing hitches as you slide down quick before pulling back slow, tongue sliding all around him wetly. He’s panting now, whimpering and whining in pleasure as you pull off completely, his eyes begging you silently. You smirk at him sexily, opening your palm and licking it slowly before gripping his shaft firmly. You dip your head, sucking one of his balls into your mouth and he cries out, your hand stroking him slowly.

“Oh god,” he pants, swallowing hard, his head thrashing back and forth, gritting his teeth. “Oh fuck baby…Mmmmm.”

His hips begin to thrust in time with your hand, your tongue licking at the velvety skin of his balls. His hands fisting in your hair, whines and whimpers pulling from his throat, as your hand speeds up.

“Fuck I’m gonna...” his breath hitches, “I’m gonna…”

He can’t even finish his sentence, his mouth hanging open, his eyes closed. You wrap your lips around the silky head, dropping your mouth down quick, sucking hard. Your fingers massage his balls gently as you bob your head up and down his length a few times. He shouts, hips grinding up and he shivers hard.

He comes violently, flowing hotly down your throat in short bursts, ever muscle in his body tense, his breath hitching so hard its almost as if he’s sobbing. You swallow, taking all he’s offering, sucking hard until he whimpers, fingers tugging at your hair, telling you its too much. Still you hold him in your mouth until he goes soft and then you rest your head on his hip, rubbing his tummy slowly until his breathing slows down.

He whines, tugging at your shoulders and you crawl over his body, burying your face in his neck, your arms hugging him close. He presses his lips to your forehead, stroking your hair gently.

“Feel better?” you ask, your hand stroking his chest slowly.

“Mmmm,” is his response and he wiggles, settling into the mattress. “you’re so good to me, baby.”

You sight, rubbing your cheek against the soft skin of his chest, hugging his body close. You’re so caught up in the feel of him against you, you barely notice his fingers walking down your arm.

“I think,” he says lowly, his finger tips stroking your forearm, causing goose bumps to raise on your skin, “that its time I was good to you.”

Your eyes fly open and find him grinning mischievously. It’s going to be a long night.