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“It’s okay though, boy. I’m not giving up on you.” Finn held up the corner of a sandwich.
Jackson shouldn’t feel so much relief as he did by hearing Finn’s words.
“Good sammy, bubbie. Cheesey! Eat!” Michael told him.
And damn it, now he had to eat. He took a big bite and chewed quickly before his tastebuds exploded. Holy shit! “What is that?”
“That, my boy, is a special grilled cheese.” Finn offered the sandwich again.
“Sammy!” Michael cheered.
Fuck, that was good. Jackson chomped down on another bite. Flavor teased his tongue. It was like no grilled cheese that Jackson had ever had before.
“Dip! Dip!” Michael sang.
“Oh, you do need to dip dip,” Finn agreed. He picked up the bowl.
Jackson strained to see. Oh, tomato soup. That made sense. He almost stopped Finn from dipping the sandwich. There was no way canned soup was going to do that sandwich justice.
Finn kept the dripping sandwich over the bowl as he offered it. Jackson opened his mouth.
Of course, Finn smirked at him, as Jackson closed his eyes and moaned. So fucking good! That was not canned soup.
“By the way. One of the guys that stays here is a chef and he always freezes meals for us.”
He wanted to glare. This was Jackson they were talking about, and he had a glare down that could freeze most men’s blood. Instead, he opened his mouth, waiting for the next delicious bite.
“Such a good baby bird.” Finn gave him an open-mouth kiss. Thrusting his tongue inside. But pulled away quickly before offering Jackson another bite of sandwich dripping with soup.
Jackson had to admit that he might have actually met his match this time.
Dinner was quiet as they ate their meals. Michael finished his first and lay on the couch, rubbing his stomach complaining about how much he’d eaten. He had asked for a second bowl of soup.
Finn had sat in the same chair as he’d eaten his own meal. And maybe, just maybe, the sad eyes had worked, because Finn offered the last few bites to Jackson.
There could be something to the whole being taken care of thing.
As Finn rose to clean up, Jackson called Michael over.
“Come here, baby,” Jackson crooned softly.
Michael peered over the top of the couch, but Finn had his back to them as he filled the dishwasher. Jackson had already checked. As Michael rolled off the couch then slowly crawled toward him, Jackson chuckled. He was such a bad influence.
“I missed talking to you today,” Jackson told Michael when Michael reached him.
“You did?”
“Yes, and I missed touching you. Come closer.” If Jackson was going to suffer in this damn chair all day, then he would at least get something out of it. Being fed was an intimacy that Jackson had never experienced. His cock was hard.
“You still in trouble,” Michael said but he did lean against Jackson’s legs.
“I just want a kiss,” Jackson lied. “Give me that sweet mouth.”
Michael happily kissed him. Jackson knew he would. Michael loved kissing and couldn’t resist. They kissed for a long moment before Jackson pulled back slightly.
“Rub me as you kiss me. Please.”
“K!” Michael went back to devouring Jackson’s mouth while also rubbing Jackson’s hard cock trapped in his jeans.
