You and Jackson had a passionate night, great sex as always, and it left you damn sore—as always. He wakes up a little earlier than you, doing god knows what. It kills you, that you don’t know much about Jackson other than general information that even normal fans know about him. You woke up to the sight of Jack shirtless, just in a pair of Calvin Klein boxers, in the living room reading something on his phone. You were curled up in the bundle of blankets as you took your time to fully wake up.

He heard the shuffling of the blankets and turned to look at you.

“You’re up.”

He stated the obvious, curiously raising an eyebrow at your ”morning appearance.” Jackson never showed anything besides your strange situation ship. You fuck, but he also financially spoils you. But you never go on dates or go on deeper levels.