Jackson is quietly aware that Lydia is watching, recording, and that unlike most of the onlookers and friends snapping pictures, she's not going to assume that he's the one bending over for McCall, not going to think that when Scott says we have to leave now it''s because he's desperate for Jackson's cock. He knows they'll have to talk about it later, or there will be no end to the stash of photos and videos on her phone and he's not sure he'll be able to put up with the litany of her smug looks. However, at the moment he's still reeling and breathless from the kiss, the way it's harder than before, needy and possessive and Jackson wants more, and that's why he really can't be bothered to care what Lydia or anyone else thinks

Of course, it would have been nice if Scott had said that quietly enough to not get picked up by Lydia's phone. He's not sure they're that lucky.

Maybe Scott's rubbing off on him or maybe this has just gone so far he can't be convinced that anything he does fucking matters, but he curls an arm around Scott, leaning in for a kiss, open-mouthed and inviting. And then, he tells himself, then they can leave. He just needs to feel him, taste him again, and he nibbles on Scott's bottom lip, fingers sliding down through fabric, and just needing one more moment of reassurance, of hands against his body and lips against his. And then they can slide out to his car, head back to his place and secure themselves some much needed privacy for what comes after.

Namely, the sex.