Sack | Yellow Submarine

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A/N: My first Sonny story in celebration of my first ever sex dream about him! Feels like it was my way of fully accepting him in the band 😂

⚠️ Warning: Drug use

This is set in the 60's for some reason. 


1969

* s o n n y *

Jack threw up the peace sign from the couch as I trudged through the door of our cabin, my feet heavy from a long day of work. He had a joint poised between his lips, which twisted up in a smile once he saw me. 

"Have fun working for the man?" he teased as I shrugged off my dorky tweed suit jacket.

"Have fun sitting on your ass while I earn enough money to feed your hippie ass?" I clapped back.

Jack took a wistful drag of his joint. "I'd rather starve than be a cog in the capitalist machine, paying for their war factories."

"Well you let me know when you successfully grow something other than pot and I'll quit my job." I said, plunking down next to him and plucking the joint from his hand, taking a much needed drag.

"Groovy," said Jack. It was a discussion we'd had many times before and we both knew it was going nowhere. Jack lived in a fantasy world where peace and love and LSD was all you needed to survive. I lived in reality, working a corporate job which paid for the actual food in his mouth and the roof over his head. 

Jack plucked the joint out of my hand, then laced his fingers with mine, leaning his head on my shoulder. I pushed him away gently.

"You don't care about any kinda rules at all, do you?" I chastised him.

"Nope." 

Jack leaned back into me. I sighed. He was too much of a free spirit sometimes, always pushing boundaries like this. 

"You should care," I told him.

"You don't want me to," he smirked back. I gave him a stern look but didn't disagree. Jack was holding my gaze, using his green eyes to make me weak. He then leaned over me to fiddle with the record player on the table beside me. I bit back a noise as he pressed his hand against my upper thigh, using it to support himself. 

He turned on the machine, the record already sitting on top starting to spin as he placed the tonearm down, Yellow Submarine by the Beatles beginning to play. Jack settled himself down across my lap, beginning to hum along to the tune.

"What are you doing?" I questioned him, restraining myself as my fingers itched to entwine themselves in his unruly brunet locks. Jack looked up at me and stuck his tongue out playfully. "You're a handful, Jack, you know that?" I tutted, biting back a smile. I picked the joint out of his hand, putting it to my lips to occupy my hands.  

"Trip with me, Sunshine," Jack invited, staring up at me as I blew out a cloud of smoke. 

"No, Jack." I stated. He stole the joint back, placing it between his pronounced lips that I couldn't help but fixate on. He reached to tangle my fingers with his again, and this time I didn't stop him, although I solemnly averted my gaze away from his inviting lips as he exhaled the smoke. 

"You know I'd let you fuck me," he stated cheekily out of the blue.

"Damnit, Jack. I've told you not to say shit like that," I winced.  

Jack shrugged, like it was nothing. "Just if you wanted to."

I felt myself getting nervous, my blood rushing loudly in my ears. I hated when he was so upfront about these things, acting like it was no big deal when it wasn't. It was wrong. And what made it worse, was that I did want to. And Jack knew it. 

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