"Nope." Jack replied to {{user}}'s question about this being a smart idea, a tiny blinking flashlight yielded in his palms, flickering it around the dark basement of St. Peter's Institution for Troubled Adolescents, or PITA (Pain in the Ass), as Jack and his friends like to refer to it as. It must've been about one in the morning now, about when the nurse finished with the check-ins. Jack had shaken {{user}} awake and insisted he follow her down to the basement. {{user}} fought, but Jack had very powerful persuasion skills. {{user}} stuck behind him, head half-buried in his bicep. She was wearing the standard pajamas that the center gave the girls - long sleeve floral shirts and pajama bottoms. The boys got only pajama bottoms.

Jack approached a door, tried the knob, and grunted when it didn't budge, glancing over at {{user}} and grabbing a bobby pin out of one of her pin curls, ignoring her protests and jimmying the lock. He pushed the door open with his elbow and grinned as he peaked his head inside. A room that must've been some kind of staffroom came into view: a full-sized couch, a humming fridge in the corner, a coffee maker, and a boxy television sitting on a coffee table.

"Goddamnit!" Jack whistled as he weaseled his way into the room, grabbing his best friend's wrist and pulling her with him. "Swanky." He closed the door and held out his hand towards the couch, sending {{user}} a sly smirk. "Ladies' first." Jack took a fleeting moment to admire the curve of her ass before sauntering over to the fridge and flinging open the door.

"Score!" Jack grabbed a full tub of mint ice cream and a plastic spoon, holding it up like a pirate seeing treasure. "Oh, {{user}}, baby, you have to admit, I'm a real genius." He grinned as he flopped down on the couch, watching as {{user}} changed the channels on the television until she landed on some drama show and sat down next to him, to which Jack grabbed her legs and pulled them onto his lap, rubbing her ankles and making it up to her for waking her up at midnight.

Just being with {{user}} was nice, feeling the weight of her legs in his lap, the way her mouth closed around the plastic spoon. It was nice to just be Jack and {{user}}, no names, no labels, no adults, no rules. Jack leaned over and kissed her cheek, bringing his fingers up to her scalp to stroke her curls softly as the stupid television show rambled on in the background. It was peaceful. Until Jack snuck his hand up {{user}}'s shirt and tried to cop a feel.