thedifferencebetween | Ryslig Inbox

THE LAST TIME

Oh my god Jack you're killing me

WHAT
IS
YOUR
ROOM
NUMBER

Up to you if you want to put on more than a towel before I get there.

Edited 2020-10-17 23:40 (UTC)

it wuz a while ago

tore up the place had a blast

hold on lemme ask my digi assistant

1047

maybe towel maybe no itll b a fun surprise 4 u

btw i got a weed delivery coming if ur down 2 party

Honey, I am always down to party

OKAY I'M ON MY WAY

If it's not your door I knock on

You know

Don't answer

Harley doesn't even bother to get all the way dressed; there's a fluffy NiteLite(tm) branded bathrobe and slippers in the closet, and she shoves them on over the button down and boxers she sleeps in. In less than five minutes she's at his door, knocking shave-and-a-haircut and bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet.

The balls of her TWO ENTIRELY HUMAN FEET. It's still sinking in.

Oh but it's nice to be back here.

Jack knows it won't be permanent, but last time was a pretty good stay. Got to remember what it feels like to be properly fleshy, indulge his vices, just live it up for a while. And he intends to do that again. He needs it, he's had too much on his mind and way too much input from the computer parts in his head. Which are all gone for now!

When Harley shows up, Jack's out of the bath and has just received the large delivery of fast food and drugs he'd promptly sent out for. He's dressed very similarly, the hotel bathrobe belted over a pair of boxers, his mask in place. His hair's still damp and he smells like soap and smoke, and he is most definitely perfectly human. No black metal, no eerie blue glow...

And he's smiling widely rather than the little pleased grin he always sports. His eyebrows lift when he opens the door, his face moving with them in all those little ways a human face moves. He rakes his hair back with his right hand and there's a blue gear-patterned tattoo encircling his wrist.

"Hey there babe. You finally get to see the original design!"

Her mouth is open a little, taking him in from tip to toes. And yeah, what she can see is great- but it's his face that keeps drawing her eye. The way it moves. The look in his eyes when he sees her; the smile on his mouth. The totally normal fingers he runs through totally normal hair.

He'd told her a little bit about the 'face stuff;' but she hadn't expected the mask to look so much like his sim self. It's weird- and super interested, and she's absolutely going to stare at it for awhile.

Later.

"Worth the wait," is what she finally manages, before she throws herself forward, arms around his neck to drag him down for a kiss.

Oh he's been wanting to do this since they first met.

There's just nothing like kissing. It's great! And while Harley has no reservations about kissing his un-moving mouth, now he can actively participate.

And he does.

Jack wraps his arms around Harley and practically lifts her, lacking his robotic strength bit still sporting broad shoulders and well muscled upper arms. His mouth meets hers open and hungry, his body warm and giving rather than cold and unyielding.

"So's this." He pulls away just enough to talk. "Wanna smoke up and eat cheese-loaded breakfast sandwiches with me? I am dying to eat something. I mean I'm dying to eat all kinds of things, but I figure start with some actual food."

Harley's kissed his cheek, his mouth, his temple; and it's different, but it's not bad. But it's also not this; warm and soft and open against her own, and her hands go to his cheeks, slide up into his hair. Her tongue flicks aginst his own, soft noises escaping her throat; and she's half a second from jumping up on him right there, when Jack pulls away enough to speak.

The grin on her face is hungry, and not for actual food; but her teeth catch against the vorner of her lip, and Harley pulls away. Reluctantly.

"Last time I smoked up, the boning down didn't so much work out. I'm half tempted not to take my hands off you." A slow sway against him, fingers trailing back down his cheeks, the sides of his neck; but one last, hard kiss, and Harley pulls away, tugging his robe back into place.

"But it does sound like one hell of a wake and bake. Ooh! Are there mimosas? If not, I'm getting mimosas."

"Oh I promise we'll have fun. Trust me. And go ahead, order mimosas! Order whatever the hell ya want, they'll just give it to us! We, uh, we made life difficult last time we were here so they wanna keep us happy."

And also they can't be violent, but...as long as Jack can feed his other vices, he'll manage.

He pops open one of his bags and pulls out a couple of paper wrapped breakfast sandwiches and potato cakes and just anything a fast food place would have on the menu at breakfast time. Out of another bag comes the drugs. Priorities, Handsome Jack has them!

"And we've got plenty of time for whatever the hell we wanna do! Which...gotta say, I do have some specifics in mind, a couple of requests that only work when I'm not a robot....but I think it's all stuff you'll enjoy."

Just the smell of those little hashbrowns is enough to raise her spirits. And it's a trip and a half to watch Jack move, watch him speak.

"GEEVES! Er- uh, 'pardon me?' Mimosas- better make it four." Her nose in the air, Harley adds loftily, "Charge it to my room. Whee!" Turning, she flops backward onto the big, soft bed, arching to grin upside- down at Jack. "Is this what it's like to be rich? This is great!"

The request has Harley raising her eyebrow- or lowering it, depending on your perspective. "I been wondering when we'd get to your safeword stuff. Colour me into it. Be interesting to see if I guessed right." One arm stretches in Jack's direction, making grabby hands at a hasbrown.

"This is what it's like to be some degree of rich." Not what Jack classifies as rich, but his standards are different than most. Once you've reached the point where you can buy planets on a whim, everything else pales.

He needs a few moments to tear into breakfast. Holy shit it's so good. Never has a cheap, greasy pile of bacon, scrambled eggs, and cheese shoved into a croissant ever tasted so good. It's an experience. The feel of it in his mouth, the tastes... Jack closes his eyes and sighs happily, remembering just how friggin good food is.

"Gimme...gimme a minute here...this is so fucking good..." He finishes wolfing down his first breakfast sandwich quickly, finally wiping the grease from around his mouth with a thin napkin.

"There we go! Okay, yeah, definitely gonna be some safeword stuff! But first up...where do ya stand on pegging?"

"No, no, take your time." Watching him eat is even weirder than watching him talk.

Harley splutters a laugh around a mouthful of hashbrown, and has to swallow before she coughs. "I was right! I owe me a bag of gummy bears." Rolling over, she looks him over right side up, a gleam in her eyes.

"You really want me to, though? I mean, Jack, babe, I will absolutely fuck you- but you got to have guy friends. At the very least I bet Slade would be happy to take you in hand."

"Yeah and when I want a dude to fuck me into the mattress, I find a dude to fuck me into the mattress. Whole different thing, I want you to fuck me into the mattress." Harley specifically. It's not about just getting topped that specific way, it's about a badass lady doing it.

Which is not the same as another guy. They're both great, Jack enjoys the whole range of options, but he's had opportunities to get regular old fucked since coming to Ryslig.

This is his first opportunity to get pegged.

"I already told you that you're exactly my type of lady. And I just...god I love getting it hot and hard from a sexy, kick-ass chick. And you...you're in the top ten, Harley, you're fan-friggin-tastic."

Why be coy or downplay it or anything? It's not like he's been shy about the fact he's into her, even if they're not interested in a romantic relationship.

Harley's mouth opens- and then closes again. There's a warmth in her face- is she blushing?

She's saved by a knock at the door- and Harley assumes it's her requested mimosas, so pops up to answer it before Jack can. She takes the tray carefully from top of the robot who waits outside, and lets the door swing shut behind her as she turns.

"Mimosas and McMuffins- who could ask for a better combo?" The tray is set down by Jack's breakfast sandwiches, and she takes two champagne flutes, offering him one.

"Jack, I- I like you too. A lot. Like a lot, like- oh, buddy, I could really fall for you, if I let myself." She reaches up to brush one thumb against his cheek. "But I like this, what we got. And I'm glad we're on the same page about it. I'm not- well, let's just say I get a little- intense, when I take things further. And that wouldn't be fun for anybody."

Stretching up onto her toes, she presses a kiss to his cheek; then his mouth, because she can, even if they both taste like fast food and McDonald's.

"So... what, you got supplies tucked away somewhere, or do we have to order in?"

"I like what we got going on now, too." Jack takes the glass and makes a vague toasting gesture with it.

"We're both reasonable grown ass adults, there's no reason we can't just keep on like we are and also be nuts about each other. I like the freewheeling life, you like the freewheeling life...and trust me, sweetheart, you aren't the only one here that gets pretty intense once things get exclusive."

Something just changes once boundaries and labels come into things. He can't explain it well, but there's a reason he doesn't get into actual relationships unless it's a pretty done deal already.

But so many people fail to realize there's all kinds of middle ground between friends and dating.

"Just wanna make it clear we are on the same page and I'm not over here thinking about or expecting something else, even if I'm pretty open about how much I dig you on a more than just buddies level." Communication! It's important. "And I'm gonna go shopping later. But hey...we always talk about what I'm into, seriously, what about you? What can I do, with all my natural glory, to make Miss Harley Quinn happy?"

He's so- good at this. Not that Harley hasn't been involved with people twice her age, before; but experience didn't necessarily mean they got things like communication, and stating preferences and dos and don'ts. Slade, for example; sixty years old, and if she even tried to talk about the pair of them, Harley's pretty sure he'd throw himself out the window to avoid it.

A clink of her glass against his, and Harley takes a long, generous sip of her drink. They- whoever they are- made it with real champagne, too, delicate and refreshing and bubbling on her tongue, and the orange juice is so fresh and sweet it's like they squeezed it special, just for the glass. Damn, but she could get used to this.

"I like that you're open about it. Good for the ego, if nothing else. But who said anything about exclusive? Honey, even when I'm full on gone over someone, me and exclusive go together like oil and water." A catch of her teeth against her lip, and Harley's eyes drop in a fair impression of being demure. "Which is its own kind of game, in a more- intense dynamic, than what we're doing. Not one I play, these days, but don't tell me you never. Possession, and jealousy-" Her eyes glint up at him, from under her eyelashes. "They have their place."

The offer prompts a smile; and Harley makes a show of pressing her lips together, mulling it over. Finally, she drains most of the rest of the glass, and sets it aside to ease closer to him. Her hands nudge apart the lapels of his robe to find his bare chest, sliding up to his shoulders.

"I'm a six- for when you go shopping. And get something you like! I'm not too picky, as far as equipment goes- long as I've got something to grind against, I'm good. But for right now? What I like?"

One hand catches his free one. "I liked that night we went out hunting. I liked that way you got- all self-assurance and knowing what you want. And knowing you were going to get it. Give me orders if you want; tie me up; but it's less about the details and more about- well- attitude." She tugs his hand up, tilting her head back to settle his fingers on her throat.

"I want you to fuck me, Jack. I want to see if you can get me to the point where I beg. You're one of the few people I've met here that I think maybe's got it in you."

"I mean an open committed relationship counts as 'exclusive' to me." Jack shrugs. Semantics, really, as far as he's concerned. "And I've done that thing before. But you better believe if there's an established agreement about not fucking around....don't make any mistake, I am not cool with that. It's about respect, it's about respecting what's been agreed on and the boundaries set. Don't respect that...."

Jack trails off with a dark little flash of his eyes. He will have the respect he deserves.

"It's cheating I have a big problem with. But it's not cheating if you've said 'yeah, fucking around is fine'. Hell, Harley, do I strike you as the kinda person who's gonna be happy in a long term, sexually monogamous relationship? Holy shit, I'd go crazy!" Even he and Nisha had understood that fun is fun, and they both loved their fun.

But he does like some legit exclusivity in the beginning, he just thinks it's a good way to settle into a relationship without distractions. Which had led to all the trouble with Moxxi. And he'd even been willing to give her another shot after that! Not that she'd appreciated that....

And oh...oh things were headed in a direction Jack hadn't been totally sure he was going to bring up. But....

"Oh, I can do that, babe. I like taking control as much as I like giving it over. But...uh..." His fingers at her neck flex a little, already hungry with anticipation. "Getting back to safewords and shit I should mention I've got a little thing for necks. And squeezing'em in the fun way. Fun for both parties, I mean, not...not murder strangling, I keep those things separate."

"Of course I mean fake cheating, real cheating is just boring. Like, god, why even? Just be up front with your shit, and no one needs to get hurt." It's not often Harley will state things quite as baldly as that. But it's important they're clear.

And that flash of anger on his face shouldn't send the thrill through her that it does; and neither should the way his fingers twitch against her skin catch her breath in her throat, like she's already expecting a squeeze, or a press. Her eyelashes flutter, and Harley sways, just a little, into his grip. Just enough to feel the press of it against her windpipe.

"I don't know if I got a thing- but I do like it. Not many clearer ways to establish control without props, if you know what I mean." She swallows, eyes on his, letting him feel her throat work against his palm; then reaches up, and taps his forearm with her fingertips three times. "That's the safeword. I'll pick a verbal one too, if you want- but it don't sound like speaking's going to be much on the agenda here."

Her pulse is already starting to quicken; and Harley's tongue flicks against her lips. "And why not? Don't murder strangle me, obviously, but- we barely made it back to the car, last time. Can you imagine what feeding and fucking at the same time must feel like?"

"Oh, yeah, no, I'm into that kind of game, I get ya. But exactly, just be clear and don't be a lying, backstabbing piece of shit!"

It's really not to much to ask, and yet....

"I know exactly what you mean." Jack doesn't exactly squeeze, but he presses his fingers snugly into the flesh of her throat. "And I got it. Don't think we'll need a verbal one, that's pretty clear." And not the kind of thing that's a normal gesture during sexy times.

"Okay yes, that is hot. I mean I don't sleep with people and kill them at the same time, that's just messy and gross. But having sex while killing somebody else, absolutely, super down with that, we should totally do it sometime whenever we get punted back home."

Since there's no killing anybody here, something Jack doesn't like but will put up with in exchange for everything else. Plus there's the...whatever replaced the Cube when they'd ended up stealing it or whatever.

"But I do dig the kind of rough fight sex that's like...you're going at it, but you're also going at it."

"My, uh- my favourite kind." Harley's voice breaks, just for a second; the way his hand tightens is getting distracting. Reaching out, she catches the edges of his robe again, trying to tug him closer. "And a much happier ending that a real fight."

Her head turns enough that she can eye the table next to them. The remains of breakfast are there; but so are the drugs, and mimosas in various states of emptyness. Two fingers scoop up a joint that's rolled away from the rest, and Harley holds it up between them. "Still want some now? Or we saving it for later?"

"I really hope that means you're gonna make me fight for control, I love that." It's a fun game. It's nothing Jack has any interest in outside of that realm, either. What's the point? Anyone who doesn't want him is an idiot anyway, and he doesn't want idiots.

"And yeah, I'm gonna need that. I'm not a robot right now, I got all the crap that comes with being a meatsack human dude over forty. And ya know what's really not sexy?" He plucks the joint from her fingers.

"My back going out mid-fucking."

"Is it really control if you don't got to win it first?" Harley presses into the hand again, deliberately pushing closer to snap her teeth gently in his direction- before pulling away entirely, spinning to snap up another joint.

"Oh I don't believe that for a second. I can see under that robe, you know; you're doing pretty good for a mature gentleman such as yourself. Seems about as likely as you having little blue pills hidden around here." She pokes him in the chest, the grin broad on her face. "Now pick a seat somewhere, so I can sit in your lap."

Jack wants a struggle for power? She can do that.

"Believe it, it's happened before. You know I'm enthusiastic in bed!"

He's...not gonna say anything about pills. Who needs to know he's been taking a supplemental helper for years? He has a high stress life, he drinks a lot, it happens. Whatever.

It says a lot that he's halfway to lifting his right hand to light the joint...before remembering he needs a lighter. He snags one from the table and lights up, inhaling deeply. That's the stuff! At least the stuff to start the day off with.

"But you're right, I am in excellent shape. Between working out and the small army of space age doctors I had on hand...dunno what happened to my ass, but honestly I never had much of one in the first place. And it might be little, but it's tight and fit!"

He's proud of his physique, overall, nearly nonexistent ass notwithstanding. Considering the time and money he's poured into looking how he does...

But he nods in agreement and relocates himself to the plush chair by the window, sprawling comfortably.

She slaps his ass on his way to the chair- because how else is she going to know for sure? All she's had a look at before is his chassi- which is very nicely shaped, as it turns out. And apparently real life don't change that much about a boy.

"You're hot as hell, and you know it." Harley tosses her bathrobe on the bed, to settle in Jack's lap with her own joint and the lighter. She slings her legs over the arm of the chair, letting them kick idly into the air. "Tall, and lean- strong jaw, great hair -" One finger trails along his cheek, on the non-mask side. "And your eyes are two different colours. I figured they'd be blue." The smile that tugs at her mouth is wide and easy; this close she can really look at him, taking in every inch. That mask really is incredible. "And a great attitude, which really is the most important part."

This time she touches the masked side of his cheek, letting one fingertip trail down. "You can feel this, right?"

"Well yeah, I'm literally called 'Handsome' Jack. You don't get a name like that for no reason!"

And he says nothing to counter the compliments. No one needs to know that his jaw stays strong and sharp thanks to space-botox, his hair has been surgically grafted to be fuller and thicker...but only when it started thinning. Jack's never changed his face or looks any, only maintained them at whatever cost necessary.

"And oh yeah, the ghost-eyes are all natural, had'em my whole life. And I have the best friggin attitude you'll ever find! I'm just a positive guy, love life, really wanna make the most of it!"

He grins and waggles his eyebrows, enjoying being able to express himself with his face. And being able to feel Harley like this, skin and skin and flesh and flesh.

"Don't worry about that. I can feel it just like normal." And the mask doesn't feel that different than skin. More lifelike than the synthetic skin on his simulacrum form. And the warmth of his body comes through it, giving it the illusion of body heat. "Just think of this like my face."

"I am thinking of it like your face- except that it's not made of metal. And it's moving." She's watching him with nearly as much fascination as when they first met; grin twitching even wider when his eyebrows waggle. "I can't believe you invented this, though. Like it's perfect." Aside from the edge and the obvious difference in skin tones- you can't tell that it isn't skin. "God, you really are a genius."

Harley- stops, then, and her head tilts, like she's considering something. Considering Jack, maybe, in a new light. She takes a moment to light her joint, and draw in and hold a long, practiced hit, before speaking again. "Hey, Handsome- what do you think about all the Fog God, Fourth God business?"

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, HANDSOME JACK. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 021.07.222.57 * H.Jack69 has joined 021.07.222.57 <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- sample for when you ban someone <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <USERNAME>** First sentence of message.

<GiggleGrrl>

< H.Jack69 >

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CW: discussions of sex stuff

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cw; discussion of kink, sex, and murder

cw; discussion of kink, sex, and murder

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