When Theo had decided to run the hell away from everything—from the stupid things he’d done, from his mother who always judged him despite her own unforgivable mistakes, from the burden and deep shame of visiting Father in prison, the horrible wrecked home and all the angry people that he and his family had hurt—he hadn’t realized that his new life would involve...vermin.

Jack had maybe laughed at him and called him a princess when he leaped onto the bed the first time he saw a mouse, but really, why should he have been expected to deal with rodents?

“Mm.”

“Helpful.” He looked over at Jack, who was still in bed, the layabout. “Jack.”

He didn’t move.

Theo walked over to the bed and kneeled on the edge, swinging one leg over to straddle him. He grabbed both of his hands and pinned them over his head, then twisted his hips, grinding down.

“Jack Gardner.” Theo gripped his wrists, leaned down to place lingering kisses on the stretch of neck he always kept bruised and that Jack never complained about. “Are you listening to me?”

Jack struggled under him and thrust up, not trying to get away but ready to fight, that friction between them always. “I am now.” Theo sucked on an earlobe. “You kinky bastard.”

“Good.” He sat back, straightened his hair, put his hands on his hips, and grinned. “So?”

Jack grabbed his hips and flipped them over, shoving Theo’s knees up, pushing against him. “So what?”

“Do you—ah—think we should—Christ, all right, find the lube—get a cat?”

Jack wet his fingers and shoved in two, then three, in quick succession, Theo still slippery and loose from their first fuck once he got home from going over the club’s books with Colin. “A—your ass, so perfect, Theo, I swear to God—cat?”

“Yeah.” His voice was high, too loud, and Jack thrust in with one smooth slide. “Oh, please—”

Jack set a punishing pace, tilting his hips up and stroking incessantly against Theo’s prostate, grabbing his cock with his come-and-lube-drenched fingers, jerking him fast and rough.

“Oh holy fuck, Jack—”

There was little tenderness here—and that was okay, sometimes they needed this; sometimes one or both of them needed something harder, more painful, to fuck away the bad stuff. Memories. Ghosts. Sins.

Secrets.

And if it seemed rougher today—if something felt off, a little wrong—it was just a part of them, their life together. The bad days when they couldn’t forget their pasts. When they couldn’t overcome their hatred of each other, even as Theo loved Jack with every part of his desolate soul.

Theo’s eyes rolled back in his head, breath heavy, and he clawed at Jack’s arms, almost drawing blood. His whole body tensed up, and Jack pulled out and wrapped his hand around both of them and fuck, he’d never get over the feeling of coming with him at the same time.

After, Jack was solicitous, kissing over his stomach, smoothing his tongue against his roughened entrance, wiping him clean. Almost apologizing.