The only positive thing about being tracked down by the sperm donor who is technically his real father when Jackson was twenty was the revelation that he has a twin sister. Peter Hale is slightly odd, not at all paternal, and seems more inclined to want to be Jackson’s friend instead of attempting to become any type of parental influence over him, so that means he’s slightly tolerable. In small doses of creepy sass. At least, when he isn’t trying to hug and shit. That’s just too strange because Jackson’s isn’t a hugger, but his bio dad and sister are both into touchy feely crap like that. He doesn’t mind when Malia gets into his personal space, but he only allows Peter one awkward hug a month with a time limit.
Fortunately, that’s usually more than enough since they really only do monthly dinners and occasional other meetings arranged with proper notice. Jackson sees him more often than his adoptive parents, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything because Jackson wouldn’t see Peter as often if not for his twin sister. Peter is a sassy snob, similar to Jackson in some minor ways that he refuses to acknowledge publicly but knows do exist, but Jackson still just doesn’t like him all that much. He just gives off an odd vibe, and the whole staring intensely thing is bizarre.
Malia, however, is unlike Jackson in almost every way, yet he’s adored her since they first met nine years ago.
Where Jackson is the epitome of charm and sophistication, Malia is blunt and somewhat tactless. Jackson grew up knowing he was adopted from a young age, though he believed his birth parents had died in an accident, so Peter’s sudden arrival in his life while he was at college was definitely a surprise. Malia had also been adopted, but there had been no second adoption like Jackson, and she had a decent set of parents and a kid sister who adored her. From what she’s said, Peter’s arrival in her life wasn’t that unexpected, though she’s never explained why she expected it.
Really, he’s just glad she had adoptive parents who care about her. Not that he can really complain since the dead first adoptive parents left him enough money when he turned eighteen that he was able to break free from the second set of adoptive parents plus he never has to actually work. He’s turned that into enough money by age twenty-nine that he not only never has to work but can also indulge in some expensive hobbies, like collecting sports cars and traveling the world with his best friends and sister on a whim.
Not that he doesn’t work. He’d go crazy without something challenging to occupy his time, after all. He and his best friends, Danny and Lydia, run a successful consulting firm that handles internet security, financial analysis, and advises companies on ways to improve their business models. Jackson dabbles in the market on the side, making sure his and Malia’s money is always moving and making more for them. Malia hasn’t really settled on a career yet, but he’s managed to earn her enough playing the market that she doesn’t really have to worry about working. Not to mention the fact that she moved in with Lydia nearly five years ago, and they’re talking marriage within the next year.
The latest job Malia’s decided to try is working as a receptionist for some former high school friend. The guy owns a tattoo shop, of all damn things, and Malia’s been working there for several weeks now. She loves it, so Jackson is trying to accept the fact that she might stay there a while. Obviously, he had Danny investigate the place as soon as Malia told him about the new job. It’s got an excellent reputation with several artists who are well-known in the state, so he supposes that should help balance out the low class aspect of working in a tattoo shop.
Not that Malia gives a shit about class or stations in life. Jackson was raised by the Whittemores to expect a certain standard, and he’s been working on loosening up a little as he gets older, but there’s still a part of him that wants to sneer and point out that Malia could do so much better than receptionist work at what is most likely a grungy place with a client base made up of bikers and soccer moms who think getting a butterfly tattoo makes them daring. While Jackson will allow that tattoos are becoming very popular across a wide range of economic backgrounds, the Whittemores had detested them and found them vulgar, so he’s got eighteen years of snotty comments in his head to ignore when he thinks about them.
Of course, his sister isn’t working there because of her love of tattoos. No, Malia won’t stop talking about this Stiles person who owns the place. A man that Lydia has casually mentioned just this morning that Malia actually used to date when she was in high school. That’s one of the primary reasons that Jackson’s decided to work a half-day today so he could drop in at her new place of employment and take her out for lunch. He hadn’t realized until today that Malia had a past romantic history with the man paying her salary. Lydia doesn’t seem to mind, and he knows Malia is fine with the fact that he and Lydia were high school sweethearts, but he still feels a need to meet this guy and ensure he isn’t expecting Malia to repay him for the job in any type of sexual ways.
Besides, Jackson is curious about this shop that makes his sister happy. Not only does she talk about that Stiles guy constantly, but she also talks about the other artists so much that he feels he almost knows them without having ever met them. They all knew each other in high school, she’s said, and they’ve continued being friends all this time. Despite her leaving for a while to find herself, they’ve taken her back in without any issues at all, so she considers them extended family, in a way. Oddly enough, though, despite talking about Stiles said this and Stiles did that, he doesn’t know very much about him at all. It’s like Malia is keeping personal details to herself for some reason, and that makes Jackson suspicious. Hearing from Lydia that Malia used to date Stiles, even if it was over a decade ago, has him wondering if that’s why Malia seems to keep details about Stiles closely guarded.
He’ll be able to recognize Erica, Boyd, Scott, Kira, and Isaac at first sight, no doubt, based on Malia’s descriptions of their physical characteristics and personalities, but all he knows about Stiles is that he’s a man the same age as Malia with a sarcastic sense of humor that makes Malia grin when she’s repeating different stories to Jackson during their nightly phone calls. When he’s asked questions about Stiles, she always deflects with another story showing off Stiles’ snarky assholeishness, as Malia calls it, without ever doing anything except making him more interested in the guy.
According to GPS, the Ink Spot is located on a stretch of highway between San Francisco and Beacon Hills, up in Beacon County. Jackson was actually adopted in Beacon Hills, but the Whittemores moved to San Francisco when he was five, so he doesn’t really remember all that much about it. Had he never left, he’d have probably met Malia a lot sooner, since she was raised in the same town. Thinking about it, his life would have probably turned out differently in many ways if he hadn’t moved to San Francisco before school started.
Not for the better because he can’t imagine not having Danny and Lydia in his life. They’re his real family, the ones who have been there when it really matters, who accepted him, faults and all, without pressuring him to be someone perfect and acceptable for society. Sure, he might have known Malia sooner, but they aren’t likely to have known they were twins back then, and there’s no way in hell the Whittemores would have allowed him to be friends with her since her family isn’t ‘good enough’ in their viewpoint.
Of course, Peter’s from Beacon Hills, too, which makes sense considering that’s where Jackson and Malia were both adopted. In fact, there used to Hales throughout Beacon County until a fire during a family reunion nearly killed the entire family. They all moved to the East after that, wanting a fresh start for some reason or another, and they are living around New York City now. But Peter came back like ten or eleven years ago, hence the whole father-child reunion that Jackson was forced to endure during college.
It’s still weird to consider that Jackson not only acquired a twin sister when Peter decided to track down the products of his sperm donation to whoever their mother was (supposedly some one night stand that Peter didn’t remember until he ran into her again and found out she’d had twins that she gave up at the hospital but Jackson isn’t sure he believes that), but he also found himself with a large extended family that he hasn’t even really met yet. Sure, it’s been nine years, but Jackson has trust issues out the ass, and he hasn’t reached a point where he’s ready to meet the cousins and aunts and who knows how many other Hales that will likely feel just as awkward and weird about this ‘in blood only’ type of relationship as he does thinking about it.
There’s still one more year until he turns thirty, so he has time until he’s forced into an awkward reunion with people he doesn’t know. He made a stupid promise to Malia to meet the Hales before they turned thirty, which allowed him ten years because, even at twenty, he knew he’d procrastinate and put it off until the last possible minute. Fortunately, they all live across the country, and Jackson’s just too busy with work and living his life doing stuff he wants to do to go meet some people who obviously don’t care much about meeting him anyway.
Malia hasn’t gone to New York, either, so she can’t really complain. When she talks about doing it, she usually drifts off and mutters some nonsense about alliances and shit that make it sound like she’s discussing some video game instead of meeting extended family. Peter has told them about everyone during the monthly dinner they have, there have even been ridiculous speaker phone calls at the holidays because he and Malia both refuse to Skype a bunch of strangers, but it’s not like Peter is even encouraging them to make the effort to visit , so why bother?
It takes him almost an hour and a half to reach The Ink Spot, mostly because he gets stuck in traffic leaving San Francisco. If he’d thought about it ahead of time, he’d have just worked from home today, because he only lives about thirty minutes away from Beacon Hills. Well, twenty minutes when he’s driving, but thirty according to GPS. And Malia convinced Lydia to buy a place near him, and Danny lives north of Berkeley, so Jackson’s centrally located to everything except their office, which was rented before they grew up and started buying houses in the suburbs like old people.
He figures they’ll eventually relocate out of downtown San Francisco, if only to save money because rent is fucking ridiculous, but that requires effort and time and motivation. Jackson is lacking all three, and would rather just commute an hour every day. At least until their lease is up again because moving would be better than that commute and traffic every day. As he gets older, the cost of gas and his impatience makes spending an hour stuck in his car twice a day not really worth the location. Anyway, they could actually work from anywhere since a lot of their analysis is on-line anyway.
When he pulls into a parking spot at the tattoo shop, he takes a moment to check out the store front. It’s a large building, looks like it might have been an old warehouse or something at one time. There’s a nice brick façade in the front with a couple of smaller windows downstairs, and there’s large windows all around the second level. It looks pretty big to just be a tattoo shop, so maybe the rest of it is used for other businesses or something. The side Jackson can see is covered in a painted mural that consists of various superheroes and sci fi characters. Multiple people designed the characters, he suspects, because he can tell different styles just looking at them. His eyes keep being drawn to a colorful version of Captain America hanging off the Millennium Falcon.
With a shake of his head, he turns off the car and gets out. Jackson considers texting Malia to ask her about lunch but decides it’s better to surprise her. He knows she usually goes to lunch around three when she’s working an earlier shift, after all. The place is open from eleven to midnight seven days a week, and Malia seems to be working the early shift three days a week and the later shift on Friday and Saturday. Today’s Thursday, so he knows she’ll be good for lunch in another thirty minutes or so. He’s deliberately given himself some extra time so he can snoop around and check out this Stiles guy and make sure this is a good place for Malia.
As he steps into the shop, he immediately feels overdressed. He doesn’t care, of course, because he knows he looks damn good in his tailored suit, and the combination of blue shirt and gray suit makes his eyes pop, according to Danny, not to mention how good his ass looks in these pants. Still, he definitely feels out of place as he pulls off his sunglasses and looks around. There are a couple of people in the waiting area looking at binders of artwork, and there are drawings all over the walls. He doesn’t see Malia at the front desk. Instead, it’s a pretty Asian woman talking to a couple who are pointing at something in one of the books.
It’s a large open space, high ceilings, lots of wood, and a comfortable sort of feeling to it that doesn’t seem to fit his idea of a tattoo shop. Of course, all he knows about tattoo shops is what he’s seen in movies, where they’re usually somewhat seedy, or the one he went to with Danny when his best friend turned nineteen and decided he wanted some kind of Hawaiian proverb written on him in permanent ink. That place had been small and brightly lit, almost perky, but it’d been close to campus, so it wasn’t necessarily a legit type of place compared to some. This place is really nice, not what he expected at all.
Jackson wanders over to the wall of artwork so he’s not standing around awkwardly while waiting for Malia to come out from wherever she is at the moment. Within seconds, he’s able to spot the artist responsible for some of the designs on the brick outside that caught his attention. Vibrant color and a hint of realism that makes him think he could reach out to touch the designs and find them real. There are some in black and white with the similar style, and he finds himself staring at several designs that make his fingers itch to touch because they really are beautiful. Maybe being a tattoo artist isn’t as low class as he’s thought. This is artwork worthy of hanging on a wall, so he can understand someone wanting to have it permanently inked on their skin. For the first time ever, he’s actually considering the possibility of getting inked.
“Can I help you?” The voice is male and a little low. Sexy. Jackson glances over and blinks when he sees a very good-looking man standing beside him that hits multiple boxes on ‘Jackson’s Type’ list in his head. Slightly taller than him, lean yet muscular, beautiful eyes that seriously look almost golden brown, lips made for sin, hair that could be in an advertisement for ‘bed head’ because it’s seriously tousled in a way that makes him think about sex, and, fuck, there are beauty marks splattered on the guy’s face and neck, probably even more places, that have him thinking about playing connect the dot with his tongue. “Do you see something you like?” The guy’s lips curve into a knowing smirk as he lazily moves his gaze over Jackson in a very inappropriate way.
“Maybe,” Jackson drawls, seeing no harm in a little flirting because the guy seems interested. He notices the ink then, different designs visible beneath the sleeves of the guy’s t-shirt, probably tattoos covering his biceps, and Jackson can’t really see any pattern in the designs. It looks like there are flames and flowers, a phoenix on one arm and a dragon on the other, and there’s so much color balanced by bits of black and white that it’s gorgeous. “Who did those?”
“These?” The guy drags ridiculous fingers over his arm, and Jackson’s temporarily distracted by the thought of those hands on his bare skin before he focuses. “Some of them are my work. They’re all my designs, actually, but I couldn’t tattoo myself for all of them obviously. There’s something from every artist here. Do you want to see more? If so, that could be arranged. A private showing perhaps.”
“Yes,” Jackson admits, glancing at the guy. There’s a slight heat in those gorgeous eyes, and Jackson can’t help smiling smugly because at least he’s having a similar effect on this guy. “I’d offer to show you mine if you show me yours, but I’ve never been inked.”
“Wouldn’t go with the image, would it?” The guy snorts. “Expensive suit, fancy sunglasses, bet that hot piece of metal in the lot is yours, too. I’ve got to say, I’d love to see that suit on the floor with my ink branding you. Maybe something small to start you off since you’re a virgin to my needle. I could make it look good for you, pretty boy. What do you say? Is the rich boy looking for a taste of wild? Cause, if so, you’ve come to the right place.”
“I don’t care about images,” he totally lies, wanting to believe his own words but he had eighteen years of the Whittemores expecting perfection and only giving him attention when he was the best or being seen with the right sort of people. Old habits are tough to break sometimes. He tilts his chin slightly, torn between preening that this guy thinks he’s pretty and annoyance that he’s just been classified as some pretty rich boy by the first man he’s really been attracted to in longer than he cares to admit. He looks the guy over again, being a lot more deliberate this time, leaning in and playing up the charm. “You think you’re wild enough for me? What exactly do you have in mind?”
“I, uh.” The guy falters for a moment, and Jackson can’t resist smirking because he’s managed to fluster the arrogant ass. He drags his fingers through his hair before he seems to collect himself, blinking a couple of times as he stares into Jackson’s eyes before he smiles slyly. “Wow. Okay. Wasn’t really expecting you to be interested, but I’m definitely cool with that surprise. As for what I have in mind, why don’t you come back to my work area, and I’ll show you. I’m thinking maybe your bicep or shoulder blade for your first ink. Something with vibrant color because it’d look so good on you.”
“Everything looks good on me,” Jackson points out, having to bite back the question if the guy means interested in being inked or interested in him because, fuck, Jackson’s sort of feeling both right now. Maybe this guy gets clients by flirting with them, though, which would explain the looks and smirks and flattering appraisal Jackson’s been receiving. He narrows his eyes. “Do you flirt with everyone to persuade them to get inked by you?”
The guy snorts. “Nope. I don’t have to do that, dude. I’ve got a waiting list, in fact, so you’re definitely special. In more ways than one. Do you want to come back with me? Let me design something almost as pretty as you?”
Before Jackson can tell him yes, he’d go anywhere with him, he’s saved from embarrassing himself, fortunately, by Malia finally showing up. She squeals before running and jumping at him. He barely manages to catch her as she wraps her legs around his waist and smacks a kiss against his cheek before rubbing her face against his neck in her usual greeting. “You didn’t tell me you were coming, Jackson!” She punches his arm before grinning. “I can’t believe you actually stepped foot into the ‘quaint little shop’ where I’m working. Curiosity finally wore you down, didn’t it?”
“It wouldn’t have been a surprise if I’d told you, Malia,” he explains in a tone of voice that earns him another punch. “If you continue beating me, I’m telling your girlfriend.”
“Lydia would totally take my side. She knows you’re an ass,” Malia says confidently. She’s probably right, too. She looks at the guy he’s been talking to, who is standing there gaping at them. A devious smile crosses her pretty face as she reaches over and actually pushes the guy’s jaw up. “I see you two have finally met each other.”
“Have we?” Jackson arches a brow, letting go of her after she unwraps her legs and stands up. “Finally?”
“Oh please.” Malia rolls her eyes. “He’s definitely your type, Jackson, and you’re so his type it’s disgusting. Why do you think I was trying to make you curious enough to want to meet him?” She grins. “I saw sparks flying before I even realized Stiles was talking to you, so I was totally right. Of course.”
“Stiles?” Jackson blinks at her before staring at the hot guy. “This is Stiles? Your ex-boyfriend, Stiles? The owner of this shop, Stiles?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” The guy--Stiles--smiles sheepishly. “I had no idea you were Malia’s brother. I wouldn’t have been quite so, uh, forward if I’d realized. She’s talked about you, a lot, but I had no idea you were like an advertisement for GQ come to life.” He clears his throat. “Also, ex-boyfriend was for like a six month relationship junior year that ended amicably when we both realized we were bi but kind of leaned the opposite way so, uh. There’d be nothing weird about us fucking or dating or whatever else you were thinking about before Malia interrupted everything.”
“Interrupted you, my ass. He’s only here because of me,” Malia says bluntly. “And I was planning to set you two up, hence provoking curiosity from both sides, so I’m definitely taking credit for this. So, yes, obviously, you owe me now, Jackson! That means I should totally be given the Porsche because Stiles is worth like a dozen Porsches.”
“I’m not giving you my Porsche,” Jackson mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. Despite the usual craziness that seems to come hand in hand with Malia, he’s still aroused, and he keeps getting distracted by Stiles’ pretty mouth and long fingers. “We were discussing Stiles inking me. He thinks he can create something almost as beautiful I am, which earns him points for knowing not to claim he can surpass my good looks.”
Malia stares at him. “And you were thinking of letting him tattoo you? Permanently ink your precious flesh? Before you even knew he was Stiles?” She looks at Stiles and whistles. “You’re totally in if you want all up on my bro. He’s never once wanted a tattoo before, and has had some not so great opinions about me working here even if he hasn’t said them since he knows I’ll do what I want anyway, but you’d better stake a claim while you’ve got the chance because he must be into you.” Her nostrils flare before she wrinkles her nose and grins. “Really into you.”
“Can you please shut up, Malia?” Jackson hisses, feeling a faint warmth spread high on his cheekbones because she’s just making him sound like an idiot. “You aren’t really helping, you know?”
“Actually, I do happen to want all up on that,” Stiles says, an amused smile on his lips when Jackson looks at him. “I’ve got a thing for a pretty boy in a nice suit, it seems, so perhaps you should take advantage of that and ask me out for coffee so we can get to know each other better without an audience?”
“My brother is quite a catch,” Malia adds helpfully, bumping her hip against Jackson’s. “Not only the pretty thing, but he’s super smart and rich, and he’s an asshole just like you are, so it’s like a match made in heaven.” She leans forward to whisper something into Stiles’ ear, which has splotches of pink appearing on his face as he stares at Jackson.
“Don’t believe anything she’s telling you,” Jackson warns, pulling Malia away from Stiles. “Unless she was saying that I’m amazing and flawless, then you can listen because that’s all totally true.”
“I was actually telling him that you might seem a little arrogant and stuck up, but you’re really an awesome guy underneath the snobby appearance, and that you need someone to love you and treat you well,” Malia murmurs, smiling up at him. “I might have also mentioned that you’re adventurous and versatile when it comes to sex, too, but mostly it was about you needing someone like Stiles to take care of you. He might be a cynical bastard sometimes but can also be clingy and attentive in a way that you need in your life.”
“I know it’s coming from a loving place, but can you please stop talking and maybe go work so he and I can speak for a moment without your added commentary?” Jackson asks, kissing her forehead before pushing her back towards the reception desk. She makes a face but actually listens, for once, leaving him alone with Stiles. Looking back at Stiles, he smiles wryly. “You used to date her, so you know what she’s like.”
“She’s great. I was thrilled when she stopped by about the job opening,” Stiles says. “We haven’t seen much of her in several years, and it’s really wonderful having her back with us. She’s in a great place now, settled down in most areas of her life, and I know you’re the primary reason for that. I’m sure Lydia has helped him some, but you’ve been a great influence on her. I’m glad to have a chance to tell you that.”
“Me? A good influence?” Jackson shakes his head. “I don’t know about all that, but I’m lucky to have found out about her because she’s helped me change my life and figure out who I am, in a way.”
“She loves you a lot, you know? She’s always telling me stories about you but never quite giving me details like I want to hear. Somewhat frustrating, but, knowing her, deliberate.” Stiles smiles. “I mean, I’m flattered that I have her permission to date you because she’s very protective of you and only wants you to be happy. I guess she thinks maybe I can help with that happiness thing. It’s sort of surprising considering she’s been reluctant to involve you in anything to do with us, I mean her past really, but I guess she feels you’re ready for it now. It feels good that she trusts me with you, is what I’m trying to say but not really managing too well.”
Jackson glances down, staring at his expensive classic suit before looking at the bright ink covering Stiles’ muscular arms. The Whittemores would have a fit if Jackson ever considered dating a tattoo artist, especially one covered in ink, but they haven’t really been part of his life since he turned eighteen and inherited the money from his trust funds, so who cares what they think. Besides, coffee isn’t even really a date. It’s more like a meeting. Not that he isn’t interested in maybe dating Stiles, because he totally is despite any reservations he might be trying to ignore right now.
“You said something about me needing something wild, and I think you’re right.” Jackson shrugs. “Malia says my life is predictable and boring, so maybe it’s time to shake things up a bit. Think you could help me with that, Stiles?”
“I’m right?” Stiles slowly smiles. “So, Jackson, can I be that bit of rough you need in your life? I’d really love to get my hands on you. And not just to ink that pretty skin.”
“You’re lucky you’re attractive because your lines are corny.” Jackson sniffs. “Very common and not at all successful.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Stiles drawls. “They got you interested, after all. Before you even knew I have your twin sister’s approval for dating and stuff.”
“It wasn’t your bad pick-up lines that interested me.” Jackson arches a brow, smirking slightly when Stiles blinks at him and blushes. “It was my curiosity about your ability to handle your gun. Tattoo gun, that is.”
“I can handle my gun extremely well, pretty boy,” Stiles says, leaning in a little closer. “So, about that coffee?”
“I don’t remember receiving an invitation to go out for coffee.” Jackson leans in, too. “Just an offer to brand me before you even knew my name. Make a habit of propositioning strangers?”
Stiles laughs. “You make it sound lurid,” he teases, swaying closer. His eyes drop to Jackson’s lips, so Jackson drags his tongue over them slowly, watching Stiles’ reaction.
Physical attraction is definitely not an issue between them, that’s for sure. He’s not so certain about the rest of it, even if Malia seems convinced they’ll make a good pair. They seem pretty different on paper, but he doesn’t really know much about Stiles at all or vice versa. So it actually will require them taking the time to get to know each other before deciding if it’s just a sex thing or if there’s potential for a relationship. Jackson arches a brow. “It could be considered improper.”
“Good thing we don’t care much about propriety here at The Ink Spot then.” Stiles smirks. “Anyway, you want to take a walk on the wild side, so fuck proper.”
“I’d rather you fuck me,” Jackson admits, scanning Stile’s body again and meeting his pretty eyes. “Bit of rough and all that, right?”
“Damn, you’re lethal,” Stiles mutters, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Let me take you to dinner tonight? Forget coffee. I’ve got an open schedule, so I can take some time off. If dinner goes as well as I suspect it might, we can move as fast or slow as you want. But that suit on my floor is something I really want to see, Jackson.”
“It better be somewhere good. It’s a first date, after all, so I expect to be impressed. Also, this suit will never be on the floor, Stiles. It cost me a small fortune, so it’ll be hung up once I remove it, not crumpled on the floor like those clothes you’re wearing,” he informs him in a somewhat arrogant tone. “I’m planning on taking Malia to lunch. After that, perhaps we can discuss a tattoo because I’m very tempted to follow-through with one because your designs really are amazing.”
“After that, we can go to dinner. Somewhere impressive.” Stiles grins, looking ridiculous yet also somewhat adorable.
Fuck. Considering they’ve just met, Jackson is already too far gone regardless of what chemistry they share. He needs to call Lydia after lunch so he can get a stern talking to about not thinking with his cock and being rational because logical is better than spontaneous.
Stiles suddenly leans in and kisses him, pressing his mouth against Jackson’s firmly, and all thoughts of logic and rationality completely flee his mind.
It takes a moment, but soon Jackson is returning the kiss, moving his fingers into that messy dark hair and tugging Stiles closer. Their lips move together, and neither of them attempts to deepen it, not yet. That can wait until tonight, after the date, and they both seem to realize that. They keep it innocent, just moving their lips together, touching hair or necks as they kiss. When they separate, Jackson blinks at him and Stiles stares back.
Jackson slowly smiles, ducking his head and looking back up through lowered lashes. “Alright then,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “Dinner later. I’d better take Malia to lunch before she comes back over here to take credit for that amazing first kiss.”
Stiles snorts. “And she totally would, too,” he agrees. “Amazing first kiss, huh?”
“Did I say amazing? I meant passable,” Jackson sniffs, lips still curled into a smile that he knows must look silly but, well, he doesn’t much care right now. “There’s definitely room for improvement.”
“Guess the second kiss will just have to be even better,” Stiles decides, reaching over to smooth out Jackson’s tie. “Take your sister to lunch, pretty boy, then come back to see me. I’ve got a lot of ideas regarding how I’d like to mark that flawless skin of yours.”
“I’m sure you do.” Jackson looks at the desk and sees Malia whispering excitedly at the pretty Asian woman. He arches a brow at her, and she just grins widely before running across the shop to join them.
“That’s my cue to get back to work. Enjoy your lunch, Malia.” Stiles kisses her on the head before looking at Jackson with a look that is downright smoldering and makes Jackson’s pulse race, damn it. “I’ll see you later, Jackson.”
“Yes, you will,” he whispers, watching Stiles’ tight ass as he turns around and walks away. He openly stares until Malia punches his arm. Blinking at her, he huffs. “Oh, please. Like you weren’t looking, too.”
“Well, yeah. It’s a great ass. Nice and firm,” Malia says, reminding him that she’d know since they dated.
“Oh God. I’ve got a date with your ex-boyfriend,” he groans, running his hand over his face as she tugs him out of the shop.
She laughs. “Yeah, but I’m planning to marry your ex-girlfriend, so I’m still ahead in the psuedo-incestuous weirdness,” she reminds him. “Seriously, though, Stiles is a great guy, and I can easily kick his ass if he ever hurts you, so it’s all good. Now, do I get to drive since I managed not only to be subtle for once, go me, but to also set you up with a total hottie who’s going to rock your world?”
Jackson rolls his eyes even as he tosses the keys to her. “He’s definitely not like the usual guys I date, so I’ll allow that analogy,” he tells her, sliding into the passenger seat and fastening his seat belt. “Even if ‘rock your world’ is outdated and an indication that you are getting closer to thirty and, thus, no longer young and cool.”
“Nah, really? Stiles isn’t a boring, dull, money hungry moron who only wants you for your face, company, or bank account?” Malia feigns surprise and gives him wide eyes. When he looks unimpressed, she laughs again. “I’m always going to be younger and cooler than you, Jackson. Also, you know, Stiles isn’t nearly as wild as he might look, but he’s different enough to balance well with you. I know it. He’s exactly your type, in the best ways, and it’s going to be awesome if you two click.”
Jackson laughs as she roars out of the parking lot. “Yeah, awesome,” he agrees, already looking forward to that date tonight and thinking about more kisses, touching that vibrantly colored skin all over, maybe licking him all over, and his suit definitely lying on the floor eventually. He glances out the car window as Malia drives them towards their lunch destination, smiling slightly as he murmurs, “I can’t wait for tonight.”