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Different Types of Hungry

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“Did you do all of this?” Mark looked around the kitchen, and Jack blushed, pleased.

“Yeah,” Jack mumbled, keeping his eyes on the chopping board in front of him.

“Wow!”

Mark wrapped his arms around Jack’s middle, his touch just a little bit tentative.

He was still a bit antsy about showing affection - afraid of overwhelming Jack with his huge need for affection and shit like that.

Really, the guy was paranoid. It wasn’t like Jack was going to run screaming or anything.

"I mean it," Mark said, and his chin was on Jack's shoulder, his deep voice rumbling through Jack's bones.

Jack loved it when Mark did this kinda shit.

"Mean what?"

"You did a really good job cleaning up," Mark said.

"I also made dinner," said Jack. "There's a meatloaf in the oven, and I made a pie."

"What kinda pie?"

"Chocolate cream pie." Jack leaned back into Mark's touch, after he'd carefully set the knife down. "I've been wanting to make you something nice for a while - I've been kinda stressed out, and cooking tends to make me feel better."

"What are you making now?" Mark kissed Jack delicately on the side of his neck, right on his pulse point.

"Just a salad," said Jack. "Y'know, so it's not just protein and sweets."

"You'd make a good housewife," said Mark.

And Jack's dick woke up.

It was a full on twitch, too, the kind of twitch he associated with seeing Page Three girls when he was a teenage boy.

If Mark had been joking about it, Jack might have taken umbrage. But no, Mark was completely serious, and he was sweet, and... something was going on in Jack's head, something that he didn't have the words for, except that he kind of wanted to hide from everything, and he kind of wanted to tell Mark whatever it was that he was feeling, but mostly he just wanted a moment to think.

"Shit, no, I should have put that better," said Mark, no doubt feeling Jack stiffen up.

"No, it's okay," Jack said quickly. He put down his knife, and he turned around, so that they were nose to nose. "It's perfectly okay, Mark."

"I should've thought before I opened my big mouth, it was -"

Jack cut off the stream of babble with a kiss, his palms on the back of Mark's head, tugging gently on the hair there.

"It's okay," Jack said, when they pulled apart. "I promise."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"I still feel bad," said Mark, and he did indeed look it, wearing his old hangdog anxious expression.

Jack sighed.

"If you wanna make it up to me, which you don't even need to do in the first place, I hasten to add, then why don't you put on your oven mitts and get the meatloaf out of the oven?"

"Anything for you," Mark said, a touch to reverently, and Jack went back to chopping the vegetables for the salad, because... well, how do you actually respond to that?

"You wrapped it in bacon?" Mark said, a few minutes later.

"Yeah, sorry. Is that a problem?" Jack glanced over his shoulder, licking his lips.

Crap.

Had he made a mistake? Did Mark not like bacon?

"I didn't know that was a thing you could do with meatloaf," Mark said, and his tone was borderline reverential. "Holy shit, Jack, you're amazing."

Jack blushed.

"I just got the recipe off the internet," said Jack, and he dropped the final chopped vegetables into the bowl next to him, then brought it to the table.

"Still," said Mark. "I am impressed!"

Jack bit his lip, looking down at the bowl.

He wanted Mark to keep talking.

No, wait, that wasn't entirely true.

He wanted... he wanted to give Mark more reasons to talk to him like that. He wanted to keep impressing Mark with stuff, stuff that wasn't just gaming.

He wanted to cook more for Mark, and that was interesting, because much as he loved cooking, he didn't usually end up getting this urge to do it for someone like this.

Also, the idea of feeding someone else usually didn't give him a half chub.

Maybe he was getting perverse in his old age or something like that.

So Jack sat down, trying not to make it too obvious that he had a boner, as he let Mark serve their dinner.

* * *

"This is amazing, holy shit," Mark said, after they'd finished the meatloaf and the salad. There was grease on his chin, and a little blob of ketchup sauce on his shirt.

"I'm glad you liked it," said Jack. "But do you have room for pie?"

"I always have room for pie," Mark said fervently.

"Always?"

"Always."

"I mean, when ya put it that way," Jack said, and he got up to go to the fridge, taking the pie out.

He cut mark a piece, and then he was struck with a wicked idea.

* * *

"What...?" Mark looked up at Jack, as Jack arranged himself on Mark's lap, santa style.

Jack smiled coyly, and held out a forkful of pie.

"You said you wanted pie," said Jack.

This was a stupid idea. This was an incredibly stupid idea, why had he thought this was a good idea? This was the kind of shit that Cosmopolitan suggested that girls do for their boyfriends in order to keep the spark alive, or some shit like that.

Jack wasn't a girl, the spark was plenty alive, and Cosmo was kind of a trashy source of sex tips to begin with.

But fuck it.

Life is about risk, or some other trite saying like that.

"I do want pie," Mark said, and his hand was on Jack's hip, keeping him balanced.

"Well, if you want pie, you gotta open your mouth," Jack reminded Mark.

"I'm opening my mouth when I speak," Mark said, in a smarmy tone of voice.

Jack rolled his eyes, and he jabbed the fork at Mark's lips, smearing a bit of cream across them.

Mark kept eye contact, and he opened his mouth.

Jack fed the pie into Mark's mouth, and Mark held it in there for a few seconds, savoring it, then swallowed it down, licking his lips.

"How is it?"

Goddamn it, why was he so damn nervous? It wasn't as if Mark hadn't professed his love of Jack's cooking.

"It's good," Mark said, and he smiled at Jack. "I mean it. Sincerely. You're an excellent cook."

Jack put the pie down on the table, and he leaned in, kissing Mark.

It was at an awkward angle, and Jack's shoulder was kind of pressing into Mark's chest, but that didn't matter, because Jack was kissing Mark with his whole mouth, moving his lips delicately, his tongue sliding into Mark's mouth.

They kissed each other lazily, comfortably, as if it didn't set sparks down Jack's back, as if it didn't set up a heat in the base of his gut, as if it didn't make Jack's cock rock hard.

He pulled back, panting, and he licked a bit of chocolate off of Mark's lip.

"I like feeding you," Jack said, and he was blushing.

"Yeah? Like, in a fetishy way?"

"... that's a fetish?" Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Anything can be a fetish, if you put your mind to it," said Mark. He licked his lips. "And I mean, uh, if you want to feed me, I'm willing to go along. Whether because it gets your dick hard or because it makes you happy."

"Wouldn't I be happy if my dick was hard?"

"I dunno, man. I've had some pain boners that were... incredibly unpleasant."

"What, the pain or the boner?"

"I mean, the pain sucks, obviously," said Mark, leaning back into his chair, one hand on Jack's lower back to keep him from wobbling too much. "But like... getting a pain boner is always weird, because you're not even into the pain, but your dick is apparently thinking that the stimulus is a thing that means it's time to wake up."

"I have literally never experienced this," said Jack. "I think you're just convinced that something weird that happened to you is a normal thing."

"It is totally a thing," said Mark. "I'll ask people."

"Who are you gonna ask?"

"I could ask Twitter...."

"You ask Twitter, you're gonna have half a zillion Tumblr fangirls claiming you're a masochist."

"I'm not a masochist," Mark said defensively. "I don't like it, I just end up with a boner, to add on to whatever other pain is taking me over."

Jack kissed him, and he was smiling against Mark's lips.

"You're a fuckin' weirdo," he told Mark, and he kissed him again.

* * *

Jack got off of Mark's lap, they each ate their pie. They played a few rounds of games together, then put on a movie.

Mark was falling asleep, his head on Jack's shoulder, and Jack was holding his hand.

It was cheesy as hell, but it still made Jack smile.

And he had finally managed to... metaphorically gird his loins, whatever that meant, but he was... he was going to be an adult and actually talk about a thing.

"Um," Jack said, eloquent.

"Hmm?" Mark snuggled in, letting go of Jack's hand to wrap an arm around Jack's middle.

"Remember... remember when you said I'd make a good housewife?"

"Yeah," Mark mumbled, his breath ticklish against Jack's neck.

"Well, uh... I froze up, right?"

"Yeah," Mark said, waking up a bit. He pulled Jack closer, so that he was holding Jack like a teddy bear. "I'm sorry about that."

At least he wasn't as cagey about touching Jack anymore, right?

And there was something nice about being manhandled like this.

"You don't need to say sorry," Jack said. "I... you don't have to say sorry, because... I froze up because... um. Because... I kinda liked it."

"Yeah?" Mark sounded surprised, but not disgusted or weirded out.

So... progress, right?

"Yeah. I, uh... I'm not sure which... which bit I liked. But the idea is... it's nice."

"Being a housewife?" Mark was talking into the top of Jack's head, as Jack cuddled in closer, his eyes sliding shut. It was easier to talk about this stuff when he didn't have to look at anything, or anyone.

"Yeah. Not, like, as a full time career, I'd get bored, probably, but like... the idea of... of doing it sometimes is a... is fun."

"What parts of it do you like?" Mark's voice was faintly ticklish against Jack's scalp, and he squirmed.

What parts of it did he like, come to think of it?

"I like... I like the idea of taking care of you," said Jack slowly, haltingly. "And of... of being pretty."

"I think you're pretty," Mark said, and Jack could hear the blush in his voice.

"Well, like, I'm... attractive, right, but I'm not pretty. Pretty is like... for girls."

"Pretty doesn't just have to be for girls," Mark argued.

"Alright, alright," Jack said, laughing a bit. "So it doesn't just have to be for girls. But... the kind of pretty I'm thinking about I tend to associate with girls."

"Do you want to... be a girl?"

"Not like... all the time. I like the idea of pretending to be a girl sometimes, maybe?"

... where had that come from?

Was it true?

Probably.

Maybe?

"I mean, I think I do? Maybe?" Jack sighed, and he pressed his face into Mark's stomach. "I'm sorry. This kinda shit is supposed to be like... important. Not just brought up because it gave me a boner."

Mark shrugged, a motion that pressed his chest into Jack's face, and Jack breathed in the familiar scent of him, soap and laundry and dinner and whatever it was that made Mark smell like himself.

"Sometimes the way you figure stuff out is if it gives you a boner," said Mark. "Anyway, would you like... want to try being a girl all the time? Or some of the time?"

"I don't think so," said Jack. "I mean... I never thought about that in regards to myself?"

He shrugged hopelessly.

"I think I want to wear a dress for you and maybe you could fuck me or tell me I'm pretty or eat food that I cooked for you," Jack said, in a rush. "I want you to... treat me like you'd treat a girl. I don't think I want to, like, change my gender or that I have a different gender or anything like that, I just like the idea of you calling me a good girl while you fuck me."

He covered his mouth with one hand, because, uh... that was awkward.

That was really awkward.

"That's totally doable," Mark said. He didn't even sound that surprised.

"Okay," said Jack.

"I'd... hm." Mark shifted positions, and his stomach gurgled against Jack's ear.

"Hmm?"

"Would you be alright if I... got you clothes? Like, girl clothes?"

Mark sounded... embarrassed?

Huh.

"Sure," said Jack, a bit cautious. "Just, uh... maybe nothing too... slutty? I mean, unless you've got your heart set on something slutty."

"What counts as slutty?"

"Something that you'd get at, like, one of those weird porn stores with the creepy mannequins in the window."

Mark gave a full body shiver.

"I stay away from those places anyway," he told Jack. "Anyway, is there such a thing as a not creepy mannequin?"

"In all the infinite universes, there has to be at least one that isn't creepy," Jack said.

"Well, yeah, in all the infinite universes, there is bound to be everything," Mark said, in a dismissive tone. "But there's also a world where it rains boots on alternate Tuesdays."

"Suzy would like that," Jack murmured, and he yawned, cuddling up to Mark.

He'd admitted his big weird thing.

Now he just wanted to sleep.

"I'm gonna go to bed," said Mark. "Do you, uh... do you wanna sleep with me tonight?"

They'd been bed hopping, back and forth, since they had started getting intimate. It was... it was nice, but a bit awkward.

They'd probably have to talk about it in the near future.

But for now....

Jack nodded.

* * *

The next day, things went pretty normal.

Mark got up early to work out, to practice guitar. He didn't even bother putting pants on, just began his recordings in his room.

Jack did his own videos, after he ate breakfast, and he at least had the decency to put some pants on.

Although he was admiring Mark's legs, every time he caught sight of the other man.

If Mark was going to refuse to wear pants when he was working, Jack would reap the rewards.

“Hey man,” said Mark, later in the evening.

“What’s up?” Jack was patting himself down, making sure he had his keys, his wallet, and his phone.

“Where you going?”

“Heading to the drug store. I’ve got a hankerin’ for key lime twinkies.”

“... key lime twinkies?” Mark pulled a face. “That can’t be real.”

“They are,” Jack said. “I got them at that big chain drug store, the other day.”

“... bring me back some,” said Mark.

“I’m also getting lube,” said Jack, and he was blushing a bit.

“Did we have fun activities planned that I forgot about?” Mark rubbed his eyes, then sat down in a kitchen chair.

“Nah,” said Jack, “but, uh, I’ve been using the fleshlight for a few wanks, and whenever I do that I gotta use lube, and then, you know, you run out….”

“Fair enough,” said Mark.

“Is there any particular kind you, uh… like?” Jack licked his lips.

They hadn’t, strictly speaking, had penis-in-butthole sex.

Jack was pro the idea.

Mark was pro the idea.

They were both too damn timid to actually suggest it, and it was never the right time.

“What?” Mark was blushing. “Oh. Um. I like… I’m into, uh… I mean, anything that won’t make a condom melt, I’m good.”

“Right,” said Jack, and he leaned down to kiss Mark on the mouth, a nervous peck on the lips.

Mark kissed him back, and he smiled.

“We’re just a pair of goobers,” he said, and he was chuckling. “I haven’t been this nervous since… high school.”

“I was the height of suave and sophistication in high school, I’ll have you know,” Jack said, affecting a haughty voice.

It was rather ruined by him turning around too quickly and nearly tripping over Chica.

Ah well.

“I’ll see ya later,” said Mark.

“Oh. Um.” A thought occurred to Jack. “Do you have a type of… condom you prefer?”

“Just not lambskin,” said Mark, not missing a beat.

“No?”

“They’re super expensive,” Mark said.

“Yeah, true,” said Jack. “And it’s not like you’ve got a latex allergy or anything.”

“Exactly,” said Mark. “Have fun on your little sex errand.”

“It’s not a sex errand,” Jack said, faking his indignance. “I’m just getting Twinkies!”

Mark rolled his eyes, but he looked fond.

“I’ll see ya soon.”

“You too!”

* * *

Jack was walking through one particular aisle, condoms and lube in hand, twinkies in the other hand, when a bit of bright color caught his attention.

He paused, and then he blushed.

He was in the… hosiery aisle. Where they sold socks and stockings and panties.

He blushed dark red, and he wasn’t entirely sure why.

They weren’t even sexy panties. He’d had girlfriend who’d worn panties like this in their day to day lives - solid colors, cotton, cut modestly.

Without even thinking, he reached out, grabbed a pair.

It was a little plastic package, four pairs, and the fact that they were so… ordinary made him blush harder.

Did he want them because they were sexy? Did he want them because they weren’t?

He didn’t even know.

But he tucked the panties under his arm, and glanced around furtively.

Was anyone around to see him do it?

… would they even care?

He resisted the urge to shuffle, or to stare at his feet. He kept his headphones in, bobbed his head along with the music, and he made his way to the register.

There had been… there had been stockings as well, white ones, and some part of him really wanted a pair of those as well.

But one thing at a time.

* * *

The clerk didn’t even blink as she rung up his items, just mechanically told him to have a nice day, and when to swipe his card.

He had a laugh to himself, as he got back in the car.

He’d worked retail.

Someone could probably check out a whole bag of carrots, a bunch of condoms, and a gallon of lube, and he wouldn’t have even cared.

He was still chuckling to himself as he pulled into his own driveway.

* * *

“Can I get a twinkie?” Mark was already rummaging through the bag, as Jack got himself a glass of water.

“Wait, there’s -”

Too late.

Mark was holding the panties, one eyebrow up.

He glanced from the package to Jack, then blushed, dropping the plastic package.

“It’s, uh… it’s all good,” Mark said, clearing his throat. He was still blushing. “We did, um… we did talk about that.” He began to laugh, and when Jack made eye contact, he started to laugh as well, leaning against the counter.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I just, like… sprung a weird sexual fetish on you, and now I’m running full on into it.”

“Jack, you bought some cheap underwear,” said Mark. “It’s not like you showed up in a full gimp mask or something.”

“Are gimp masks an actual thing?”

“I mean, they must be, if they keep showing up, right?”

“I guess,” said Jack.

“But seriously,” said Mark, “it’s… fine, okay? You don’t need to worry about scaring me away or whatever.”

Jack laughed, a bit nervous.

“What would scare you away?”

“I guess… if you expected me to just know whatever shit you’re into without telling me,” said Mark, and he sounded thoughtful. “Like… I dunno, if you were all “Punish me, Daddy” without actually telling me what it was that you wanted to be punished as.”

“First, I’d never call you Daddy,” said Jack, because… no.

“Well, yeah, but that was the first thing I could think of,” Mark said.

“Your first thought is “punish me, Daddy?”” Jack raised an eyebrow. Then guilt hit him. “I mean, if you’d like me to call you daddy sometimes I guess I could -”

“I don’t want you to call me daddy,” Mark said, in a slightly longsuffering tone. “It was just an example.”

“An example?”

“Of, like, having something just jumped on me, when I’m not expecting it.” Mark waved his hands around, clearly trying to convey… something. “Like… you told me what you wanted, right?”

“Right.”

“And if you want something else you’ll tell me that, right?”

“Well, yeah.”

“And you’ve told me what shit, like… means.” Mark took his glasses off, rubbing his eyes. “I was doing some, uh… some research, about… you know, crossdressing.”

“Research.” Jack’s voice was deadpan.

“What?” Mark held his hands out in a placating manner. “I just wanted to make sure I was… doing this right.”

“This?”

“Whatever this is,” Mark said, indicating the panties, which were sitting serenely on the table in their plastic bag.

“I don’t think there’s a right or a wrong way to do this shit,” said Jack.

“Well, yeah, but still,” said Mark. “But… like, none of the stuff I saw was really like what you talked about.”

“What was it like?”

Jack’s hackles were starting to go up.

Goddamn it, he was not gonna get defensive and ruin everything.

Things had been going so well, and now it was almost like they were on their way to an argument.

“Well, a lot of the crossdressing stuff that I saw was very… mean,” said Mark. “Like… dehumanizing. Humiliating. Which doesn’t seem to be what you want…?” He shot Jack a questioning look.

Jack shook his head - he really didn’t want to be humiliated, no.

“So… that made me feel better.”

“Yeah?”

“I’d feel weird, being mean to you like that,” said Mark.

Jack nodded.

“Well, I don’t want you to be mean to me like that, so it all evens out.”

“Can we have leftover meatloaf for dinner?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Jack blinked, trying to keep track of the conversation.

“I dunno, but it was good meatloaf,” said Mark.

Jack snorted.

“But seriously,” said Mark, and he cleared his throat, looking sincere but embarrassed, “you wanna wear panties or dresses or whatever… you have fun with it. I mean it.”

“Even if I wanna include you in it?”

“Hey man, I’d love that. Sounds like fun.” Mark rubbed his hands together.

“I’m glad.”

They stood there, smiling nervously at each other, for a few more seconds.

Then Jack turned around, to bustle around the kitchen.

* * *

The evening was uneventful.

They went to bed separately, sharing a kiss, and then Jack was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe he should have done more research.

Maybe there was a specific reason why he was interested in this shit - he’d gotten a boner in the store, holding the panties, and now he was in some kind of weird half aroused, half anxious headspace.

Maybe he was sublimating some kind of gender thing, or maybe it was him becoming more comfortable with his sexuality, or… something.

He sighed gustily, and rolled onto his stomach.

Whatever.

He was going to go to sleep, and maybe when he woke up, things would make more sense.

* * *

He woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed (metaphorically), and he took a shower, then went to dig through his underwear drawer.

The panties were sitting innocently on his bedside table, unopened.

Well….

It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

He tore the package open carefully, his hands only shaking a little bit.

The panties were soft, made of some kind of cotton blend. The one at the top of the pile was a dark pink, and when he pulled them out, they unfolded themselves.

“Calm down,” Jack mumbled to himself, “it’s just a pair of knickers.”

He’d held women’s underwear in the past, without this odd frisson of arousal and anxiety.

Well, no, okay, there had been arousal and anxiety, but those had been more related to the fact that he had just taken someone out of that underwear.

Not that he was putting it on himself.

… for fuck sake.

Jack held the panties open and he stepped into them. He pulled them up his legs, and he settled the waistband where he thought it was supposed to go.

Then he had to reach down and rearrange, because things were a bit... well, it was a lot different than what he usually wore.

The cotton was soft against him, if a little bit constricting.

It was... it was nice.

He glanced down at himself, and he licked his lips.

That was definitely a cock and balls in a pair of panties. He was getting the beginnings of an erection, but it was a half hearted sort of a thing.

Jack sighed gustily.

Why couldn't he have been normal?

He pulled his pants on, grabbed a t-shirt, and he left his bedroom.

The panties held his dick close to him, and it was an interesting sensation, giving him pause when he reached the bottom of the steps.

"Are you alright?" Mark was drinking coffee at the kitchen table, Chica's chin on the top of his foot.

"Yeah," said Jack. "I'm gonna get started - I've got another Telltale series to work on."

He was blushing.

"Have fun with that," said Mark.

"Oh, I will," said Jack.

He grinned.

Mark grinned back.

* * *

The day went on.

Jack recorded.

He'd shift in his seat sometimes, between takes, and the cotton would crowd closer to him, still cradling his junk.

He ended up rubbing himself through the panties a few time, although he enjoyed the sensation a bit too much to actually get himself off.

... it felt weird, to be sitting there in his recording room and jerking off, especially while wearing panties.

Not even sexy panties, but, like... boring everyday panties.

So why was he still so damn turned on?

* * *

Some time later, Jack was kissing Mark.

They were sitting on the couch, and Jack was straddling Mark, his hips rolling in slow, easy waves, grinding his ass against Mark's cock.

Mark was groaning, moaning like he was in pain, and he pulled back, beginning to kiss along Jack's neck, nibbling gently, then a little harder.

Jack moaned, his hands tangled in Mark's hair, his head tilting back, leaning back, Mark's hands on his lower back keeping him from falling over.

"Fuck you taste so good," Mark mumbled, and he kissed under Jack's ear, then sucked, pushing aside the neck of Jack's shirt to nibble at his shoulder.

"I... I gave myself a nice... a nice dry rub," Jack mumbled, half delirious. "To make sure that I was tasty."

Mark pulled back, and he gave Jack a Look.

"Don't talk about yourself like you're planning a barbecue or something," said Mark. "That's dangerously close to vore."

Jack snickered.

"Vore me da-"

"If you continue that sentence the way I think you're going to continue it, I am going to stand up and go take a cold shower," said Mark.

Jack closed his mouth, looking contrite.

"Thank you," said Mark.

"You're no fun," Jack said, sticking his tongue out.

"Oh yeah?"

Mark's expressing was wicked.

He grabbed Jack between the legs, and he squeezed, curving his palm around Jack's erection through the stiff denim.

Jack moaned, guttural, and he humped into Mark's hand, pressing his forehead against Mark's.

His hair was sticking to Mark's forehead, with Mark's sweat.

Mark unbuckled Jack's belt, then unzipped his pants, sliding a hand in.

And then he paused.

"I didn't know you were going to wear these today," Mark said thickly. "Not, uh... not that you have to tell me whatever underwear you're wearing."

"... sorry I didn't give you a heads up," Jack said, blushing a bit.

Mark shrugged.

"Is it okay if I touched you?"

"Of course it is," Jack said. "I'd have told you if I had changed my mind."

"Well, still," Mark mumbled. Then he paused. "... can I see?"

"See what?"

"You know... the panties. On you. I saw them in the packet, but I didn't see them on you. Haven't seen them on you." Mark closed his mouth with a click.

Jack snickered.

"How do you manage to be so awkward and so cute at the same time?" Jack kissed Mark on the nose.

Mark's eyes crossed, and then he grinned.

"It's a talent, man," said Mark. "Some of us are born with it, some people have to study long and hard."

"I do hope to be taken under your wing and learn, in good time," said Jack, his face serious as he stood up.

He shoved his pants down around his thighs before he could lost his nerve, holding his shirt up a bit as well.

Then he looked down.

The head of his cock was poking out over the waistband, dark pink, partially covered by his foreskin still.

The panties were stained with his pre, and they bulged with his cock.

Jack licked his lips, because... he wasn't sure how he felt about this.

Was it sexy? Was it weird?

... was it worse?

Mark seemed pretty enraptured. He was staring at Jack's cock, his eyes wide. Then he licked his lips, making eye contact with Jack.

He leaned forward, and he kissed Jack's stomach, along his happy trail, right above the waistband of the panties. He kissed a little lower, until his lips brushed across the very tip of Jack's cock.

Jack moaned, his eyes sliding shut.

Mark rearranged the panties, so that they were covering Jack entirely, and that was a bit weird, but whatever, because now Mark was sucking him through the fabric, his lips wrapped around the head, sucking delicately, with just enough force that it made Jack's eyes roll back, his breath beginning to come in short pants.

"Fuck, Mark," Jack murmured. "Oh, fuck, Mark."

"Hmmm?" Mark glanced up, his mouth still around Jack's cock.

"Can you take it out? Please?" Jack hated the whine in his voice, but Mark was smirking as he pulled back.

"You mean your dick? You want me to take that out? Take it out to dinner maybe?"

"I fucking hate you," Jack said, no venom in his voice. "Take my dick out of my clothes."

"Which clothes?"

"You know which clothes," Jack mumbled.

"I like hearing you say it," said Mark, and now he was blushing.

"Can you take my cock out of the panties, please?"

"I dunno if they're "the" panties anymore, since they're yours," said Mark, but he was shoving the waistband down, until it was down under Jack's balls.

"Are you really arguing about grammar right nowwwwww...." Jack trailed off, as Mark took more of Jack's cock into his mouth, cheeks hollowing out, tongue rasping along the underside, tracing the big vein, running his teeth very gently along Jack's foreskin.

Jack moaned again, louder, and his toes curled.

The way he was holding his shirt, it was a bit like holding a skirt.

What if he was wearing a skirt while getting a blowjob?

A skirt and panties, some thigh high stockings....

The thought was sexy, and it was weird, but he was far gone enough to not be afraid of weird.

So he moaned harder, as his cock swelled inside of Mark's mouth, as he rested one hand on top of Mark's head, his fingers tangling in Mark's dark hair.

"That's nice," Jack mumbled. "That's... that's really nice, fuck, yes...."

"Mmmm," Mark agreed, around Jack's cock, and he began to bob his head, sucking harder, taking it in deeper, until he was almost gagging around it, his nose pressed against Jack's belly.

He was making obscene, disgusting noises in the back of his throat, and it made Jack shiver, it made him moan louder, as he kept fucking Mark's face, gently, carefully as he could, his hips barely moving forward.

He was going to cum.

He was going to cum, while wearing panties, and he was... he was surprisingly okay with that, and unsure why he was so okay with it, except that he was, and he didn't want Mark to stop sucking him off, didn't want to stop wearing the panties, didn't want anything to change, except that Mark would just keep going, keep surrounding Jack's cock with this tight, wet heat.

"Mark, I'm gonna... fuck, I'm really...."

Mark pulled off, began to jerk Jack off.

He was good at it now, actually really good - he had the practice, that was for sure, and he was a lot less nervous. He knew all the spots to pay attention to, knew the tricks with his wrist and his finger to leave Jack weak in the knees.

Jack came across Mark's hand, a bit of it getting on Mark's face.

"Sorry, dude," Jack mumbled, still weak in the knees, his cock still drooling cum.

"It's cool," said Mark, and he grinned at Jack. "It's not like I haven't swallowed that before."

"Well, yeah," said Jack, "but still. I feel like I could've given more of a warning or something. Aimed better."

Mark snorted.

"Well," said Jack, and he got on his shaking knees, glancing up at Mark, who was wiping his cum covered hand on his chest, "how about I at least return the favor?"

"Are you offering me an "I'm sorry" blowjob?" Mark raised an eyebrow.

"No, I'm offering a blowjob, and also saying I'm sorry," said Jack, shoving down the waistband of Mark's pajama pants.

He mouthed at Mark's dick through his boxers, and he grinned at the way that Mark squirmed under him, Mark's breath getting harsh.

"Fair enough," Mark said thickly, and he put his hands on Jack's head, as Jack latched on to the tip of Mark's cock, beginning to bob his head, very slowly.

Jack's gag reflex was a bit too strong to really deep throat, but Mark didn't seem to mind too much. He certainly enjoyed Jack's ministrations to the head of his cock, and Jack’s hand on the shaft of his dick.

“I was… I was thinking,” Mark mumbled, as Jack bobbed up and down, his tongue rasping along the vein of Mark’s cock, “I was thinking… I’ve got some… kinky shit I’d like to try.”

Jack pulled back, glancing up at Mark, his lips just barely wrapped around the very tip of Mark’s cock.

“Mmm?”

“I want… I have… I mean… if you’re up for it,” said Mark, his head tilting back, exposing the long column of his throat.

Jack wanted to bite him, right there, suck a hickey high into the skin.

That was probably a bad idea, what with their fanbases being as observant as they were, and also Mark would kill him, but oh, the temptation was there.

He satisfied himself with taking as much of Mark’s cock into his mouth as he could bear, beginning to jerk off the bits that weren’t in his mouth, beginning to bob his head, beginning to suck harder, drool puddling on his shirt, pre-cum dripping down his throat.

“I want to tie you up,” Mark burst out, and then he was cumming explosively, hard enough that Jack pulled back, coughing and sputtering, more semen hitting his face, and okay, no, that wasn’t exactly a thing that he liked.

Jack sat back, still coughing, wiping his face awkwardly with one hand.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just dropped that bombshell on you like that out of the blue, that was inconsiderate of me.”

“I’m fine with the bombshell,” Jack said, when he could finally speak. “Just give me warning when you’re about to cum.”

It still felt like he had jizz up his nose, goddamn it.

“Sorry,” Mark said, and he looked sheepish.

“‘S’okay,” said Jack, and he grinned. “So you wanna truss me up like somethin’ out of a bondage magazine?”

“Something like that,” Mark admitted, and he laughed, clearly anxious. “I mean, if that’s not too weird?”

“Yes,” Jack said flatly. “The man with your jizz on his face, wearing panties, is gonna judge you for being into rope.”

Mark’s face looked anxious for a moment, and then it cleared.

“Oh my god, Jack,” he said, and he shoved at Jack with his foot.

Jack grabbed his foot and kissed the tip of Mark’s toe.

Mark made a disgusted noise and yanked his foot back.

“You fuckin’ weirdo!”

“And you know it.”

Jack grinned widely, aware that he looked like a Halloween pumpkin, not really caring.

Mark began to laugh, and then Jack began to laugh, and soon the both of them were laughing, dried semen on both of their faces, good cheer filling them both up like so much water.

* * *

“I bought rope,” Mark said, three days later, when the two of them were eating dinner.

“Are we expecting a hurricane?” Jack stared into his mashed potatoes.

“... what?” Mark blinked at Jack, and it took Jack a minute to realize what he was talking about.

“Oh! Rope! Yes!” Jack laughed, a bit nervous. “What kinda rope?”

“Just boring rope. They had a sale, so I got it in pink.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“The local kink store.”

“What, the one with the creepy mannequins?”

“No, the other one.”

“... we have an other one?”

“We’re living in LA, Jack. There’s a lot of other ones.”

“... fair.”

“So yeah.” Mark sat back in his chair, looking uncomfortable. “I mean, if you, uh, if you don’t want to… if you don’t want it, that’s okay. If you were just agreeing with the whole….”

“No,” said Jack. “No, I’m good with rope. You wanna do it tonight?”

“It beats falling asleep in front of the television,” Mark said.

Jack snorted, and prodded Mark with his foot.

Mark prodded him back.

* * *

“So, uh, I might have been practicing earlier today,” said Mark, as Jack sat down on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. “While you were on that Skype call with your mom.”

“Yeah? Makin’ up your own knots?” Jack leaned back onto the bed, getting comfortable.

“As if,” Mark said, and then Jack started laughing, because, well… it’s always funny to see a grown ass man on his way to thirty sound like a teenage valley girl out of a movie from the eighties.

“Are ya done?” Mark crossed his arms across his chest, looking slightly put on.

Jack tried to look contrite.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Can I make it up to ya?”

“Well, you’re letting me tie you up, which is a nice start,” said Mark, and yeah, now he was looking kind of pleased with himself.

“That’s not a make it up to ya thing, though,” said Jack. “I want you to tie me up.”

“Fair enough,” said Mark. “How about… you make dinner again.”

Jack blushed, and his cock twitched in his pants.

“I’d like to do that anyway,” said Jack.

“Well… how about you do it in a dress?” Mark licked his lips.

Jack blushed.

“Good plan,” he said, in a slightly choked off voice.

Mark grinned wider.

“Gimme your wrists,” said Mark.

Jack held them out.

* * *

Mark was quiet as he tied, apart from asking, now and then, if something was too tight or too loose. He used a separate piece of rope for each wrist, and left them dangling.

Then he stepped back.

Jack looked down - it wasn’t fancy, crazy rope work, like the stuff he sometimes caught sight of when he was browsing the more… underground bits of the internet.

But it was holding on to him, and when he glanced up at Mark, he saw Mark’s eyes go dark, and Mark’s chest rising and falling.

“I’ve got all this extra rope,” said Mark. “I’m not sure what to do with it.”

“Well, uh… you could tie it to something,” Jack suggested.

“I don’t know if I’m at that level yet,” said Mark.

“There’s levels to this shit?”

“Well, no, but it’s a new thing, so I wanna take slow steps.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” said Jack. “So what are you gonna do with the excess rope? Or am I gonna be wandering around like I’ve got a set of tentacles flapping after me?”

“No, that’d be dangerous,” said Mark. “Wouldn’t want you to get them caught on something.” He looked at Jack with a speculative expression. “I could tie it to other parts of you?”

“Please don’t tie it to my dick,” Jack said, his expression fervent.

“This is the wrong kind of rope to tie it to your dick,” said Mark. “I’d need thinner rope.”

“Why?”

“Jack, I can concentrate on tying you up, or I can continue this conversation.”

“Sorry,” said Jack, contrite.

“It’s alright,” said Mark. “Now….”

Now?, Jack wanted to say, but he pressed his lips together.

“I’m going to tie the rope around your thighs,” said Mark. “One on each thigh.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Mark was in his own head - he didn’t talk to Jack, just manipulated him. He pulled Jack’s pants down, but kept him in his boxers.

He tied the rope around each thigh, and tied it tight enough that Jack’s wrist was attached to his thigh, his hand flat on top.

He watched Mark’s face, as the rope was tied, until his hands were incapacitated and his legs were slightly akimbo.

“I should have taken your shirt off,” Mark said quietly.

“It’s okay,” Jack said.

Mark grabbed Jack’s hair, and he kissed Jack, with his tongue, with his lips, with his teeth. He kissed with an intensity that Jack wasn’t expecting, but it left Jack’s toes curling, his eyes squeezed shut as he kissed back.

Mark grabbed the rope, and he used it to shove Jack onto his back, pulling him onto his side, and he loomed over Jack, a hand on either side of Jack’s head.

“You look good like this,” Mark said, his voice thick. “All tied up.” He cupped Jack’s face in his big hand, his palm pressed against Jack’s cheek.

Jack kissed Mark’s palm, and he stared up at Mark, aware of his big blue eyes, aware of how he could look attractive to Mark, especially from this angle.

Mark kissed him again, harder this time, hard enough that Jack was going to have tender lips, kissing the breath right out of him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Mark groaned, and he began to kiss down Jack’s neck. “So pretty in… in pink rope. Such a pretty… so pretty.”

Jack moaned, and he whimpered, wriggling on his spot on the bed, so horny that he didn’t even know that he was horny.

… well, he knew he was horny, what with the leaky erection that was throbbing away in his boxers, but he was… he was in some strange, desperate state, and he was whimpering and gasping, as Mark pushed his shirt up, beginning to suck and nibble at his nipples.

“Fuck, I love your tits,” said Mark, and okay, that… that was… that was doing things to Jack, weird, complicated, sexy things that he didn’t know how to put into words, except that they were making his eyes roll back in his head, leaving him gasping, groaning, almost crying.

"You've got the most beautiful fucking tits I've ever laid eyes on," Mark said, and he was holding on to Jack's chest like he was holding a pair of breasts.

Jack wanted to cover his face. He wanted to cross his arms across his chest, to laugh it off, to just be one of those jokes, no harm, no foul.

But his hands were at his sides, and Mark was looking at him with... with tenderness, with something that might be love, but they were too early into the relationship to approach that kind of thing.

He tugged on his restraints, and Mark paused.

"Do you want out?"

"No," Jack said carefully. "Just, um... intense."

"What kind of intense?"

"The kind of intense that I wanna keep at, but I may end up like... feeling stuff. If that makes sense?"

Mark nodded.

"Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes, please," Jack said, surprised at how fervent his voice was.

"Do you want me to... continue...?"

"Yes, please!"

"With this specific... with this kind of thing?"

"I... I like you calling me a girl," Jack said thickly. "And the... girl stuff."

"Like...?"

"Like... referring to my body... you know... differently." Jack made vague hand motions, although it was somewhat lost on Mark, since his hands were still tied to his thighs.

"Got it," said Mark. He leaned down close, his forehead against Jack's. "What do you want, baby?"

Jack groaned like he was in pain.

"I... I want... please," Jack sobbed. "Please keep touching my chest."

"Your chest?" Mark's tone was teasing as he trailed his fingers over the top of Jack's chest, around the soft hair that was growing between Jack's nipples.

"Yeah. My... my chest," Jack said, and his hands were flexing against his thigh.

"You mean your tits?"

"... yeah."

"Say it to me," said Mark.

"Say what?"

"Tell me you want me to touch your tits."

"... please touch my tits," Jack said, and... wow, that was... that was terrifying. That was good, and it was terrifying, and it was liberating, in a way that he didn't know how to frame, except that there was some shame involved, and enough arousal that his cock was throbbing like a second heart.

"I'd be delighted," said Mark, in his best sexy voice, and okay, this was his actual sexy voice, not just the put on one that he used to pretend.

He took a double handful of Jack's chest, and he squeezed, kneading - it was a lot different from the way that Mark usually did this kind of thing. He was a lot more... confident, and a lot more aggressive.

Mark thumbed Jack's nipples, and he kissed Jack, slow and sweet and tender. He was grinding against Jack, his cock hard and insistent between his legs.

"Jack," Mark murmured, against Jack's lips, "baby, sweetheart, darling, honey, please, let me eat you out."

Jack flushed from his hairline to his neck, turning the color of a tomato.

"You want to... you want to eat my...."

"I want to eat your pussy, Jack," Mark murmured against Jack's neck, nipping it. "Please, baby, I wanna make you cum so hard....."

"Please," Jack murmured, and he wasn't even sure what he was asking for.

Was Mark going to eat his ass? Suck his dick? Do some other thing?

It would do something interesting, regardless of what it was.

At the very least, his head was going to some interesting places.

Mark grabbed some more rope, making eye contact with Jack, and he wrapped some more rope around Jack's legs, wrapped around his thigh, around his ankles, forcing his legs wider open. He raised an eyebrow, making eye contact with Jack, and Jack nodded.

The rope was tight, and it kept him open.

Then Mark sat back, and made a surprised noise.

"... we might have a problem," Mark said, after a moment.

"Mmm?"

Jack was floating in some horny, happy place, and he looked at Mark as he was slowly brought back to earth.

"... I didn't think to take your boxers off," said Mark.

"Rip them," Jack said, not thinking, not wanting to think, just wanting whatever it was that Mark was offering.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," Jack said fervently. "Please!"

Mark grabbed the crotch of Jack's boxers, where the slot for his cock started. He grabbed it, and he ripped, his arms flexing.

The fabric tore, with a noise like a piece of paper being crumpled, and cold air brushed across his ass, across his dick, as the tear was widened, as Mark shoved Jack further onto his back, until Jack lay there, his legs wide open, all of his most vulnerable parts bared.

"Look at that lovely pussy," Mark said, his voice rough, and he was getting on his knees, holding Jack's ass open with his thumbs, burying his face into the meat of Jack's thigh, biting it roughly, and Jack surged up against him, moaning, gasping, because it... it hurt, it was... it was....

Fuck.

"I'm gonna eat that pretty pussy," Mark said, his tone almost... fervent. "Fuck, Jack, you're so... fuck!"

Mark's face moved forward, his mouth was against Jack's cheek, then his hole, and then he was holding Jack's ass open, his mouth on Jack's hole, his tongue inside of Jack, and he was... he was licking, but it was different from how he usually licked Jack, and the fact that Jack could tell the difference would have worried him, except this was... this was....

"Mark, please, don't stop, oh my fuck... Mark, fuck!"

Jack was yanking at the rope, and he was humping against Mark's face, his cock wet and hard against his belly, his toes curling against his own thighs, and then he was... he....

He spasmed around the ropes, and he was cumming dryly, spasming and twitching, and he heard Mark chuckle against him.

"You want me to play with your clit?" His voice was rough, the way it was when he was more turned on than usual.

"Yes," Jack mumbled. Then, louder; "Yes!"

"You like it when I rub your clit like this, baby?" Mark was grasping Jack's cock, but he was rubbing the head with his thumb, rapidly, just hard enough to make Jack's hips jerk forward, as Jack humped into him, almost crying, wriggling and squirming like he was being electrocuted.

Jack cried out like he was in pain, and in a way it was pain, because he came like a fountain, spurting jizz across his belly, between his nipples, nearly to his chin, as he shook and gasped.

"You don't usually cum that quickly," Mark said, looking up at Jack and grinning. He kissed Jack's thigh, and it was his usual voice. "I didn't realize you were this into this shit."

"... right," said Jack.

Shame was crashing down on him like so much water, and he couldn't breathe.

"Jack?"

Mark's voice was coming from a long way off.

Jack was shaking.

How about that?

When had that happened?

"Jack," Mark said carefully, "I'm gonna untie you now, okay?"

Jack nodded.

"Can you feel your fingers?"

Another nod.

"Okay. I'm gonna feel your fingers now, okay?"

Mark's big warm hands were wrapped around Jack's fingers, and he squeezed.

Jack squeezed back.

Mark was removing the rope, and Mark was lying down next to Jack, and he was wrapping his whole self around Jack, and holding him.

Jack was still shaking.

There were tears dripping down his face.

Huh.

"Jack," Mark said quietly, right into Jack's ear, "can you tell me what's wrong?"

"I'm already the girly one," Jack said thickly.

"... what?" Mark sounded nonplussed.

"I'm already the girly one," Jack said again. "I'm smaller than you, I've got... huge hips, and I look kinda like a girl from behind, and now I'm getting off on you calling me a girl." Jack was shaking harder, clinging to Mark.

He was still being a fucking girl about this.

With a grunt, he shoved Mark away, rolling onto his side and holding on to himself.

Mark made a surprised noise, and then a different noise, that sounded remarkably like a sob.

"... Jack?"

His voice sounded so... broken, and that hurt more, and now Jack was crying, which was... it was....

He rolled over again, and he looked at Mark with his gross, snotty face.

"... I'm sorry," Jack said thickly. "I'm sorry, I'm being a cunt, you're awesome, I'm just... I'm not supposed to be like this. Because everyone thinks I'm like that -"

"Who is everyone?"

"You know... everyone!" Jack made a vague hand gesture.

"I really don't," said Mark, and indeed, he looked... confused.

"I mean, you're big and strong and... you've got a deep voice and shit. I'm small and skinny, I've got a high pitched voice, I'm not really... man shaped -"

"You're totally man shaped," Mark interrupted. "You're a man, you're shaped. Ergo."

"But still...."

Mark shrugged.

"I mean... us fucking around is you and me. Nobody else is involved. It's just you and me, who even cares what people think."

"I mean... when ya put it that way," Jack mumbled, and his brain was finally overcoming the waves of panic and shame.

"What, you think there's some omnipotent... scorekeeper up there, taking notes on the way we do shit?"

"... I guess not."

"So there we go." Mark kissed Jack nervously, on the mouth, and that was something like love, if only because of all the tears and snot.

"... can we do a different kink thing?"

"Sure," said Mark. "Was it the rope that triggered it?"

"I honestly don't know," Jack said. "I think it was the rope and the... the gender stuff? I think it fucked with me."

"Yeah?" Mark pressed his forehead against Jack.

"Yeah. Two new things, one of them kinda... intense. So, uh, I think the being tied up made me feel really calm and chill, and then the... the other stuff, it was really intense, and it made me feel kinda... I'm not sure what it felt like? But I came and then I felt like I was doing it wrong."

"... Jack, there's no doing it right or doing it wrong," said Mark. "I mean it. If you wanna just... wear dresses and be like our usual selves, I'd be okay with that. If you want me to call you a slut and spank you over the kitchen table in a dress, that's okay too. Or if you wanted to drop water balloons full of jello on my head because it gives you a boner... I mean, why not? It sounds fun."

Mark grinned, self conscious.

"... jello?"

"I was trying to think of something weird," Mark said, and he made eye contact with Jack, his expression sheepish.

Jack started to laugh.

And then Mark started to laugh.

Then the both of them were laughing, Jack laughing so hard that he almost fell off the bed, and Mark had to grab him by the arm to keep him from falling, pulling Jack up to his chest, and they were holding to each other, laughing and laughing, until Jack finally caught his breath.

"You're amazing," Jack mumbled, and he kissed Mark. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Oh my god, you giant sappy goober," said Jack, and he kissed Mark's nose.

"So we good?"

"We good." Jack paused. "But, uh... my other kinky thing." He swallowed thickly. "You... would you be okay if I made dinner on Friday?"

"... sure," said Mark. "I'd be up for that." He raised an eyebrow. "Although what does that have to do with kink stuff?"

"Bring your... eating stomach," said Jack.

And then Mark started to laugh harder.

"What other stomach do I have?!"

"... shut up," Jack mumbled, rolling onto his stomach and hiding his face in the pillows.

Mark was still cackling.

* * *

Jack apologized to Mark again, the next morning.

They had slept together, cuddling together, and Jack had even given Mark a hasty handjob, as an apology for forgetting about his boner earlier.

And now, Jack was leaning against the table and staring at the oven, as Mark sat in front of his seat, looking a bit confused.

"So what's the plan?"

"I'm gonna feed you," said Jack.

"That's your weird kinky thing?"

"Well," said Jack, "I'm... I'm gonna keep feeding you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jack crossed his arms, looking Mark up and down. "You think you can handle it?"

Jack had a boner.

It was quite the boner.

And okay, maybe he wasn't wearing his... usual underwear, but that was neither here nor there.

"I can handle anything you throw at me, Irish."

"Oh yeah?"

The oven dinged.

Jack smiled.

* * *

Jack served Mark up a big, heaping plate.

"Shepherd's pie?" Mark looked down at his plate. "Isn't that a little... stereotypical?"

"What do you mean, stereotypical?"

"I mean, isn't it, like, the food that Ireland is the most known for, or something?" Mark took a great, heaping fork's worth, closing his eyes and all but groaning in delight.

"It's a traditional food of the area," Jack said archly, "not just Ireland."

"Just keep telling yourself that," Mark said, and he took another bite.

* * *

There was a lot of shepherd's pie.

Jack refilled Mark's plate, until the casserole dish was empty.

On the third plate, Mark unbuttoned his pants.

On the fifth, he groaned.

"I'm gonna bust," said Mark.

"C'mon," said Jack, and he was staring at Mark's face, staring at Mark's mouth, staring at Mark's plate. "There's only a little left."

Staring at Mark's belly, what little he could see of it.

The fork clattered on the plate, and Mark groaned theatrically.

"I can't eat anything else," Mark said, scooting back from the table.

Jack stood up, his chair screaming against the lino, and he came closer, leaning over Mark's chair.

He put a hand on Mark's belly, and it was full and tight against his hand.

"I baked you a cake, Mark," said Jack, and he was using a Voice.

Mark moaned.

"You gonna try my cake?"

"I'm gonna die," Mark moaned.

"If you eat a full plate of cake, I'll give you a blowjob and a belly rub."

"You sure?" Mark raised an eyebrow. "I don't want you to feel like you've got to give me a blowjob in order to do your fetish thing."

"The blowjob is part of the fetish thing, dumbass," said Jack, getting the cake out of the fridge.

It was a wonder.

He had frosted it, carefully, and he had chopped up strawberries. He'd hand whipped the cream between the layers!

Mark was going to enjoy this cake, goddamn it.

"How was I supposed to know that?"

Jack shrugged, and he put the cake on the table.

Mark's eyes went wide.

"You want me to eat that entire cake?!"

"Stop jumping to conclusions," Jack said, and he grabbed another plate and the cake knife.

"I can't help it," Mark whined. "I'm so full that it's making me stupid."

"Does that mean you're gonna get even more stupid when I feed you some more?"

Jack straddled Mark, and Mark's full belly pressed against his own.

“Are you gonna feed me some more?”

Mark looked Jack over his glasses, and he opened his mouth.

Jack took a handful of cake from the plate, and he held it up to Mark’s mouth.

Mark licked the frosting off of Jack’s fingers, and he moaned wantonly, like he was being paid for it.

Jack ground against Mark, his cock hard, Mark’s belly gurgling and hard as well.

“Please,” Mark whined.

“Please what?”

More cake, with a strawberry this time, and Mark licked it up, still moaning.

“Please… I… don’t know,” Mark mumbled, and he was blushing.

“How about… how about you keep eating the cake, and I’ll blow you?” Jack was surprised at his own voice - it was needy, raw, maybe even… sexy.

“You didn’t give me a fork,” Mark pointed out.

“You can use your hands,” Jack said, getting on his knees. He pushed Mark’s shirt up, and he kissed down along Mark’s belly.

It was taut against his lips, and Mark squirmed under him, his cock hard in his pajama pants.

“Please,” mumbled Mark.

Jack looked up at Mark, and Mark was indeed eating the cake, shoveling it into his face, and then Jack was wrapping his lips around the head of Mark’s dick.

“Oh, fuck,” Mark mumbled around his mouthful of cake, and he moaned, deep and throaty, as Jack pulled his dick out.

Jack took as much of Mark’s cock into his mouth as he could, beginning to bob his head.

He was moaning, as loud as he could around the obstruction in his mouth would allow, and then there was a sticky hand on top of his head, as he sucked and sucked and sucked, and he kissed the hand that was cradling his cheek, sucking the cream off of Mark’s fingers, and then he took in the bitter/sour/salt of Mark’s cum as it shot into his mouth, and he swallowed it, grinning up at Mark.

“Jack?” Mark’s voice was a bit strangled.

“Mmm?” Jack licked the cum off of his lips.

It was gross, but the contrast of it to the sweet cream was… interesting. Especially the texture.

“Jack, I’m gonna die,” Mark said, plaintive.

“You’ll be fine,” Jack said, and he kissed Mark’s belly again, rubbing his belly oh so gently.

“I think this is a sometimes kink,” said Mark.

“Hmmm?”

“I can’t do this again for like… two months.”

“Poor baby,” said Jack, but he was chuckling.

Mark gave Jack the finger, and Jack kissed Mark’s fingers.

He wasn’t even going to complain about the cream in his hair.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Mark made an inquiring motion, and then he groaned. “Oh my god, I’m so stuffed.”

“Can I jerk off on your stomach?”

“... what, really?”

“Yeah,” said Jack. He was blushing. “I like seeing, um… I like seeing… proof, that you can… that is, that you like my food.”

“Well, yeah,” said Mark. “Your food is delicious.”

“So I can jerk off?”

“You can totally jerk off.”

Jack stood up, and he shoved his pants down, wrapping his hand around his cock, rubbing the head of his cock along Mark’s belly, and it was hot, it was tight, and Mark was whimpering.

Jack began to jerk off, and Mark was licking his lips.

Mark took another fucking handful of cake, and that wasn’t fair, because now he was seductively licking the cream - the cream that Jack had worked so hard to beat - off of his fingers, and then Jack’s orgasm hit him in the back of the head like a sock full of batteries.

Mark made a big show of taking a finger’s worth of cum, licking it off.

Then he wrinkled his nose.

“Ew.”

Jack grinned.

“I’m doin’ pretty well, I think.”

“Hmm?”

“That’s the first thing I’ve made that you haven’t liked!”

Mark groaned like he was in pain and shoved Jack in the side.

It was worth it.

* * *

"... I might've gotten you a present," said Mark.

"I'm always pro-presents," Jack said, over his third cup of coffee.

"Would you be up for doing more... more of that... you know, the stuff that gave you a panic attack last time?"

"You know, you could frame it a bit better," Jack said, around his coffee.

His heart was beating faster, thundering in his chest.

"Sorry," said Mark. "So I might have gotten you some... some pretty stuff. If you feel like being pretty."

"I think I'd be willing to try it again," said Jack. "It might have been weird because I was just wearing my regular clothes, not special clothes?"

"Maybe," Mark said. "Too much disconnect between one identity and the other?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds super deep," Jack said, and he finished his coffee, then leaned down to kiss Mark.

Mark kissed him back, but he wrinkled his nose.

"You have coffee breath," he complained.

"I'm sorry, would you rather I not be my usual peppy self?" Jack stuck his tongue out at Mark.

"I'm not so much of a monster that I'd deprive whatever small country is gaining energy off of you from their lights," said Mark.

"... what?"

"Shut up, I'm still tired," said Mark, and he yawned widely.

"So what'd you get me?" Jack sat in Mark's lap.

It seemed natural, and Mark was pushed back from the table, so why not?

Mark's stomach had finally recovered from that big meal two weeks before.

Although Jack was still getting off to it in the shower every other day or so.

"I got you some pretty clothes," said Mark. "If you'd like to wear them?"

"I think I'd be good with that," said Jack.

"I've... I've got a scenario I wanna try out," Mark said, and he cleared his throat.

"A scenario?" Jack kissed Mark with his coffee breath, and Mark kissed him back in spite of it.

"Yep," said Mark. "You wanna hear it?"

"Always."

So Mark laid out the plan.

Jack's eyebrow went up, but he was nodding along.

"I could totally do that," he said, after some time. "I'd be... I'd be totally willing to do it."

"When do you wanna do it?"

"Saturday?"

"Sounds good."

"Which bit of Saturday?"

"You can do... like I asked you to, and we can go from there?"

"Sounds good," said Jack, and he kissed Mark loudly on the nose, just to see Mark cross his eyes and make a face.

"You're lucky you're so cute," said Mark, and he grabbed Jack's butt.

Jack wriggled his ass against Mark's hand, because he could, and Mark gave it another squeeze, then let him up.

"I'll see ya when I emerge from the video dungeon," said Mark.

"Aren't you a kinky sumbitch," said Jack, making his way towards his own recording dungeon.

"And you know it," Mark called.

* * *

Mark left his present on Jack's bed, and it was wrapped in a paper bag, and Jack found it.

He unwrapped the paper, and he found a pink dress.

It wasn't a fancy pink dress - his sisters had probably worn a dress like this at some point in her life.

It looked a bit like a shirt, but it had a skirt. It wasn't porny, it wasn't... weird and frilly.

It was the kind of dress that he'd see on a woman and wouldn't look twice.

There were stockings as well - white cotton ones, with some kind of cable knit... something or other.

Maybe he'd ask Holly about it.

If he ever got the guts to do so.

He chuckled, because... this was silly. Getting this worked up over a bunch of clothes was silly.

Hell, looking back, his stupid breakdown from the night before was pretty damn silly.

Because who fucking cared?

* * *

Jack took a shower, and he shaved his legs.

It was... a lot harder than Jack had expected it to be. He'd waxed his legs, sure, but that had involved a lot less... contorting himself into weird shapes.

He ended up cutting his legs up a bit, but it was totally worth it.

His legs looked... well, they didn't exactly look like a sexy woman's legs, but they didn't look like his regular legs either.

At least it would be easier to put the stockings on, right?

... it was weird to be thinking about this shit.

But fuck it. Life is weird.

* * *

Jack slowly rolled the stockings up his legs, and he put the dress on. He even put the bra on, which was... weird, and it took a few minutes to figure out how to put it on, but once it was on, he rolled his shoulders and looked at himself in the mirror.

Where had Mark even gotten this?

It was weird to think of Mark going to a lingerie shop, casually buying a bra.

How had he even gotten Jack's measurements in the first place?

Jack paused, looking at himself in the mirror.

The bra was a small lace thing, with little rosebuds pecked into the lace. It was a pretty thing, something simple, something... nice.

It didn't match the panties, but that didn't matter.

He didn't know what he looked like, exactly, but he was... he liked it. Whatever it was.

The dress fit him well, if a bit loose around the chest and tight around the hips. The hem of the skirt was ticklish along the tops of his thighs, and he shivered as it swished.

He looked... he looked good.

Well, okay, no, he looked weird - with his green hair, his skinny flat chest, and his bearded face.

But he was... he was pretty. He was his own flavor of pretty that he didn't entirely understand, but it was still pretty.

* * *

Jack was setting the table when he heard the back door open.

"Hi, honey," said Mark. "I'm home."

Jack bit back a snort, and he looked over his shoulder.

"Hi," said Jack, and maybe he was pitching his voice a little higher.

Then he did a double take.

Mark was wearing a suit.

It was a well fitting suit, and it was strange to see him in it.

"What's for dinner?"

"Well," said Jack, and he turned around, so that they were looking each other in the face, "I was thinking we could have shepherd's pie."

Mark turned a little green, and Jack cracked up.

"I'm kidding," Jack said, crossing his arms over his chest, "I don't think you want to see any shepherd's pie for a few months."

"You thought right," said Mark, and he all but swaggered closer, his arms draped over Jack's shoulders. He leaned forward, forehead to forehead. "I knew there was a reason I kept you as my housewife."

"You make me sound like a pet," said Jack, and he put on a fake pout. "Is that all I am to you?"

"Oh, baby, you're so much more than that to me," said Mark, and he grabbed Jack's hips and... lifted him onto the table.

"I guess I haven't been showing you the... proper tribute I owe you, huh?" Mark stood between Jack's legs, forcing Jack's skirt up around his thighs, and his hands followed the trail of that same fabric.

"Tribute, huh? What am I, some kind of ancient goddess?"

"Do you want to be?" Mark began to kiss along Jack's neck, and he was moving lower, pulling the buttons open, one by one. "Because I'd happily worship at your... altar." Mark squeezed Jack's ass.

Jack moaned theatrically, and he laughed, a bit breathless.

"I don't wanna be on a pedestal," Jack said. "I'd fall off."

"I'll keep you safe," said Mark, and he pushed Jack's dress off his shoulders, baring his bra.

Jack blushed, trying to cover his chest with both hands, but Mark grabbed his wrists, keeping them at his sides.

"You look very pretty," Mark said. "I'm, uh... I'm glad I chose stuff that looks good on you." He leaned in and kissed along Jack's bare shoulder, sliding the strap of the bra down a bit. "But then again... everything looks good on you."

"Oh my god, Mark," Jack mumbled, grabbing hold of the jacket of Mark's suit.

"If I'm a god," Mark said, "you're a goddess. It's only fair."

Mark's hands were on Jack's chest, kneading at the soft skin under the lacy fabric of the bra. He pushed Jack's pecs together, and when Jack looked down, it was a little bit like a pair of boobs. Maybe. If he thought about it right.

"I feel like there's something wrong with that logic, but I can't really... I can't argue," Jack mumbled. Although the reason he couldn't argue had more to do with the fact that Mark's thumbs were on his nipples, and Mark's mouth was hot and wet on his neck, and Mark's cock was pressing into Jack's thigh.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Mark murmured, his voice reverential. His hands moved down, to feel along the thigh high stockings.

"Oh," Jack mumbled, because his legs were... they were sensitive, and it felt strange, but it was lovely, as Mark's fingers trailed across his calves, then up to his thighs, then further up, brushing the very front of his panties.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world," Mark said, and he got on his knees in front of Jack, kissing up one hairless thigh, nuzzling. "To get to come home to this... every day...."

Mark looked up at Jack, through his eyelashes, and Jack began to pant, because Mark was in a suit and tie, Mark was... Mark was very much looking fancy, and Jack was looking... a different kind of fancy, and now Mark was willing to get his lovely suit and tie all filthy, just for Jack....

Mark rolled down Jack's stocking, and he kissed along the exposed skin, then moved higher, until he was kissing along the shaft of Jack's cock, mouthing it through the thin fabric.

The head of Jack's cock was popping out, and Mark licked it, pushing the skirt up, his other hand on Jack's thigh.

"I'm gonna eat you out so good, baby," Mark intoned, "that you're gonna forget your own name."

"Well, I mean," Jack laughed nervously, not even sure what was about to come out of his mouth, "it's not like... half of my name is yours or anything."

Shit.

.... shit.

That was going way too far down the rabbit hole of whatever it was that the two of them were doing.

But Mark was smiling against his thigh, and then Mark was moving forward, shoving down Jack's panties, wrapping his lips around the head of Jack's cock, and he was sucking on it, concentrating, and he flickered his tongue along the slit, and Jack's eyes almost rolled back in his head.

"Mark," Jack moaned. "Mark, fuck, oh, fuck, Mark!"

"Mmmm?" Mark looked up at Jack, his mouth still full of cock.

"Mark!" Jack rocked his hips forward, and he pressed the full of his length into Mark's mouth.

And Mark swallowed it down greedily, moaning and groaning around it, looking up at Jack in his suit and his tie, and Jack was going to cum if he wasn't careful.

"Fuck me, Mark," Jack said.

Mark paused, looking up at Jack a bit nervous.

"Like, uh...." Mark licked his lips. "I mean, I don't have much lube, or the condoms, but -"

"Like... Oxford style," Jack said quickly.

"... what?"

"Like... thighs. Between the thighs."

".. what?" Mark looked adorably baffled.

"You stick your prick between someone's thighs and they press them together, and then you fuck that space."

"... huh. That's a thing you can do?"

"I've done it," Jack said.

"Are you worried about your balls or something?"

"I'm not worried about my balls," Jack said, deadpan.

"Well," said Mark, and he was putting on his sultry voice, "I want to do you from behind."

"Y-yeah?" Jack licked his lips, his cock twitching in his panties, and then he squealed, because Mark pulled him off of the table and shoved him, belly first, into the table.

Mark draped himself across Jack's back, and he ground his erection against Jack's ass, his hand between Jack's legs.

"You're so wet for me, baby," Mark growled into the back of Jack's neck. "You're so fucking wet, I'm gonna... I'm gonna sink into you like fucking butter...."

Jack moaned, grinding back against Mark, and the knot of Mark's tie was pressed against his shoulder, and then Mark was pulling his legs apart, and Mark was fumbling with his own zipper, pulling his cock out.

"You feel that, baby? All for you. All... for... you."

Mark slid his fingers under the waistband of Jack's panties, and he slid them down, all the way down, and Jack's cock twitched.

"Gonna fuck me? How hard you gonna fuck me?" Jack's voice cracked, and okay, that was embarrassing, but oh, Mark was sliding his cock between Jack's thighs, and Mark's jacket was spilling onto Jack's back, and now Mark was drawing his hips back.

"I'm gonna fuck you like a goddess like you deserves," Mark crooned, and he was fingering the cleft of Jack's ass the way he'd finger a girl, and oh, that was doing things to him.

He pressed his thighs closer together, and he humped back against Mark, as Mark let go of Jack's butt to wrap a hand around his dick, squeezing it, stroking it, gathering the pre and sliding it along the shaft.

Mark's pre was slippery along Jack's balls, along his thighs, and Mark's cock was pressed along the underside of Jack's cock, and it was slippery, and it was hot, solid, the kind of heat that always surprised Jack, because it was just so... so....

Jack's brain wasn't working.

He let Mark push his face gently onto the table, let Mark flip the hem of his skirt up, until Mark was looking at his own cock sliding between Jack's thighs, and then he moaned.

"Fuck, I can see it... splitting you open," Mark said. "I can see your hot pussy just taking it all in, I can see how much it wants you, and you want it, oh, fuck, Jack...."

Jack squeezed his thighs together tightly, and he closed his eyes, as Mark's tie pattered against his back, as Mark's jacket brushed across his sides, and then he was cumming, out of nowhere, across the top of the table, dripping down onto Mark's dick, and then he was going jelly legged, as Mark manipulated him, as Mark just fucked his thighs.

Mark came between Jack's legs, and onto Jack's cock, and he sagged forward as well, nuzzling his face into the thin hair at the base of Jack's head.

"You've got an awesome pussy," he mumbled into Jack's skin, raising up goosebumps.

"You fuckin' know it," Jack said, and he more or less fell forward, smearing cum on his belly.

Mark kissed him.

"Next time I fuck it," he added, "I wanna use some of my new rope."

"Oo, new rope?"

"New rope."

"But... since I'm no longer playing the housewife, you think you can clean the table off?"

"The things I do for the little woman," Mark said, putting on his best Honeymooners voice.

Jack snickered, and snuggled into him.

He'd get Mark for that.

Later.

When his legs were working.

“If I clean the table, will you make dinner?”

“I thought I was doing that anyway.”

“One doesn’t want to assume,” said Mark. “After all, we live in the modern age….”

Jack rolled his eyes and elbowed Mark in the ribs.