Brojob!

by itwascrabpeople

Here's the only good summary I can come up with: Jack gives Mark a beej. [["Okay, okay," Mark pants softly, twining his fingers into Jack's hair. "Just putting it out there that I am super virile - like Greek God levels of stamina - so if I d-don't last more than two seconds here I just want you to know it's 'cause of the alcohol."]]

They stumble in drunk at four in the morning, giggling and hushing one another as they head for the couch. Mark slumps down first, his hand still latched onto Jack's sleeve, and causing him to fall into Mark's lap.

"Ow!" He huffs, playfully shoving at Jack's shoulder. "Watch where you sit!"

Jack snorts, moving around until he's lying across Mark with his head on the armrest. "Watch where you be a sofa!"

Mark throws his head back and laughs, his hands falling to Jack's waist. "That's not even… that's not even funny. God." But saying so only makes him laugh harder, especially when Jack starts clumsily trying to cover Mark's mouth with his hand.

"Shh, sshhhh ya idiot," Jack slurs, but he's chuckling too. He leans up, unintentionally pressing his ass into Mark's lap.

"Jack," Mark says conspiratorially as the laughter dies down. "Hey, hey. " He wiggles his eyebrows and bucks his hips up.

"Whoa, you're seriously..." Jack's eyes go wide and he bursts into giggles, sitting up straighter. "You're fucking hard, Mark."

Mark gapes at Jack and points at him accusingly. "So are you!"

"Shhh!" Jack scrambles until he's straddling Mark's legs, facing him and pinching Mark's lips shut. "You'll wake the children!"

"'M'not ready for kids!" Mark says in mock horror, subconsciously sliding his hands up Jack's back. His hips are still pushing up, the pressure of his fingers subtly urging Jack to move with him.

"Are you tryin' to get me to get you to get, uh…" Jack shakes his head and pauses before he completely confuses his tipsy self. "Are you gettin' off on this?

Mark blinks at him. "Are you not?"

"Hmmmmm… hang on." Jack undoes the top button of his jeans and hastily unzips the fly so that he can slip his hand in. Mark stares raptly as Jack starts to touch himself, his hips bucking against his hand. " Oh. Now that's way better," Jack sighs.

Mark's lips feel so dry as he watches him, all blissed out with his eyes closed as he writhes against his own hand. "Unfair!" Mark shouts suddenly, forgetting to care if Ryan and Matt hear him, and starts tugging Jack's hand out of his pants.

"Ugh, fine!" Jack grumbles annoyedly as he finally lets Mark pull his hand away. "Why're you bein' such a douche- !" Jack's cut off with a gasp, bodily shuddering as Mark replaces his hand with his own, rubbing his palm against the length of Jack's cock through his underwear.

"You were saying?" Mark smiles smugly at him.

" Ah." Jack's head falls forward onto Mark's shoulder, his hands gripping the back of the couch. "You're the best kind of douche-bag, Mark."

"Nicest thing you ever said to me, Jackaboy." Mark then blinks down to where his hand disappears into Jack's pants. This is all kinds of uncharted territory for him, like; big deal, introspective, life-evaluating kinds of territory. So Mark should probably be freaking out more, but he just feels so fuzzy and buzzed and stupid horny. Like, his penis is definitely on board with the whole touching another dude's dick thing despite his vague inner turmoil.

After some time of Mark not doing anything Jack opens his eyes. "Wha's th'matter?" he asks.

"Nothing," Mark says quickly, snapping out of his stupor. "Your face, maybe."

Jack snickers, and starts minutely thrusting his hips like he can't help it. "I'm'a guess… inner crises?"

Mark looks at Jack, sees his slightly parted mouth and lidded eyes and decides he's not in the mood for deep introspection right this second. "Eh, maybe later," he shrugs, and starts stroking Jack's cock through his underwear.

"Jesus fuck." Jack's head falls forward as his hips thrust against Mark, so he does it again. "Ahh -kay, Mark, go harder, like, press down…"

Mark's hand does what Jack says on automatic, and he figures he must be doing something right because Jack's eyes close and he smothers his face against Mark's shoulder. "Yeah, you're gettin' it, now keep, keep…yeah, like that."

"God shut up," Mark huffs, his face feels flushed as he clumsily tries to undo his own fly with his free hand. "Don't give me sexy commands in your stupid accent."

Jack laughs and drops his weight onto Mark, making it impossible for him to get his pants open. "Dick, you did that on purpose!" He grunts aggravatedly and starts jerking Jack's cock roughly in retaliation, which Jack seems to actually like.

"H-hey Mark?"

"Yeah what?" He bites out, he's dying of blue balls here and trying to give Jack the most frustrated handjob ever.

Jack sighs happily. "Know how I know you're gay?"

Mark can't help but to smile at that. "How?"

"'Cause you're touchin' my dick."

"Hah ha, so funny, Jack. Know how I know you're gay?"

"How?"

"'Cause you like it, bitch," Mark replies simply. Jack laughs gleefully at this, his face so close that Mark can feel his beer-tinged breath against his cheek.

Without giving it much thought he leans in a little closer, just barely brushing his lips against Jack's. He's not expecting anything, figures he'll pull back and they can continue just getting each other off. But then Jack closes the distance between them, and Mark's heart nearly beats out of his chest.

This is the first time he's ever kissed a guy. And it's Jack. It's… it's equal parts terrifying and really damn good. Mark puts it on his growing list of things to freak out about later.

"Mmf, wait," Jack says, pulling away hurriedly and panting a little. Mark watches as he clears his throat a few times and starts nervously scratching the back of his neck. Jack glances at him briefly before flitting his eyes away.

"Inner crises?" Mark parrots, feeling a little breathless himself.

Jack shakes his head, shrugging as he looks down to where Mark's hand is caught between them. "How, uh, how much did you drink tonight?" He asks.

Mark is surprised by this, but he just shrugs and answers honestly. "I did a shot and drank two beers, three if you count the one I finished for you."

"It tasted like shite!" Jack exclaims indignantly. "I have a delicate Irish palate, and you Americans know fuck-all 'bout good beer."

"Whatever you say, Seany baby," Mark snickers. "Hey," he says then, trying to catch Jack's eye, "I know what I'm doing if that's what you're wondering. How 'bout you?"

"Yeah, me too," Jack replies firmly, gaze drifting between Mark's eyes and his lips. "I know what I'm doin'."

"So…"

"So." Jack tentatively slides his hand up Mark's chest, takes a deep breath and exhales it shakily. "Know how I know you're gay?"

Instead of answering, Mark just cups the back of Jack's neck and drags him into another kiss, this time tilting his head for a better angle. Jack's mouth is so much softer than he thought it would be, wet and hot and faintly tasting bitter like the beer he'd downed at the club.

Then Jack hums against Mark's mouth and it's like the sound goes directly to his dick. Like a harpoon of hotness. It's so good Mark doesn't even mind the facial hair.

He lets his hand slip free from Jack's pants and slides his arms around his waist, holding him closer as he slips his tongue past Jack's lips. Their hips rock together in delicious friction, but the sensation is annoyingly dulled by both their jeans.

"Hang on, hang on," Jack mutters, tilting his head away. "I wanna do somethin'..."

Mark is about to ask what, but then he can only watch on dumbly as Jack slides gracelessly out of his arms to kneel on the floor between his legs. Blood rushes in his ears as Jack pulls down his jeans, his fingers twitching nervously against his bare thighs.

"Close your eyes," Jack says, his voice low and unsteady. "I've never done this before, and 'm'not drunk enough to do this with you lookin' at me."

At this point Mark can only swallow around the lump in his throat and obey. His fingers clench into the edge of the couch in anticipation, and there's a long beat of silence between them as Jack's hands go still on his thighs. The house is so quiet that Mark thinks he can almost hear Ryan snoring.

Then he feels it, the tentative touch of Jack's fingers and the wet heat of his mouth sealing around the head of his cock. It's real. It's there and it's real. It's a real thing that's really happening. This is insane.

"Holy fuck you're actually blowing me."

"Yeah," Jack gasps lightly, his mouth so achingly close that Mark feels every warm breath. Then Jack wraps his hand around the base of Mark's cock as he swipes his tongue at the tip. "Fuckin' wild, huh?"

Mark's hand moves on instinct, fingers curling around the back of Jack's neck while his thumb strokes gently just under his ear.

"Don't push me down," Jack says quietly, his hand beginning to pump Mark slowly as he takes the head back into his mouth, wet, velvety heat engulfing him. It feels so good, Mark's eyes shoot open but he trains them on the ceiling.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jack." He tries so hard to keep his hips still as Jack slowly takes more of him down, knows it'd be a bad idea to gag someone giving head for the first time. But God is it tempting. Jack's mouth feels amazing around him. "H-hey Jack? Sack A Ca-! "

Jack quickly pulls away and smacks Mark on the stomach. "Don't you fuckin' dare," he warns darkly, traces of laughter belying the threat, "I swear to Christ , Mark - don't test me when I'm this fuckin' close to your junk, it won't be pretty."

"I'm sorry," Mark starts, already giggling, he'd feel worse if he couldn't hear Jack straining not to laugh too. "Sorry, sorry!" Mark laughs so hard he has to stifle the sound with his hands and his abs start to hurt.

"Ass," Jack snickers, then guides Mark's cock back into his mouth. It's pretty easy to stop laughing after that, but Mark still smiles up at the ceiling.

"Oh God," he mutters when Jack tightens his lips around him and sucks. "Fuck, Jack!"

Jack gets his mouth about halfway down Mark's cock this time, digs the fingers of his free hand into Mark's thigh reflexively as his tongue quivers against the length. His mouth is so slick and hot, and Mark keens as Jack tries to take him even deeper.

"Okay, okay," Mark pants softly, twining his fingers into Jack's hair. "Just putting it out there that I am super virile - like Greek God levels of stamina - so if I d-don't last more than two seconds here I just want you to know it's 'cause of the alcohol."

Instead of saying anything to that, Jack starts jerking Mark's dick faster and bobbing his head down so that his lips meet his fist on every stroke. Mark swears and digs his nails harder into the seat cushion. He decides to try counting sheep in his head; hey, if it works for sleep it can work for his penis, right? Except he only gets to three when his dick bumps the inside of Jack's cheek.

"Shit, 'kay, remember that virility thing I was talking about?" He groans as Jack pulls off. For a few seconds Mark feels simultaneously annoyed and relieved, that is until Jack starts tonguing the slit of his prick. "Goddammit !"

"So that's what you taste like," Jack rasps, replacing his mouth with the pad of his thumb, rubbing into the wetness leaking at the tip. "'Eh, 's'not so bad," he shrugs, then engulfs the tip into his mouth, sucking hard as his hand moves swiftly.

"Aah," Mark whines, "fuck you, you fucking Irish asshole!"

He wants so badly to just push Jack's head down and fuck his mouth until it's red and raw and covered in his come. He wants Jack to come too, wants to lick him clean until he's worn out and gasping. Mark nearly bucks up at the thought before he catches himself. God, he really wants to push his cock into Jack's mouth when he's lying under him on a bed, all naked and sexed out and pliant.

Jack must notice how hard Mark is straining to keep his hips still, because his movements slow and he pulls off of him slickly.

"I think you can look at me now," he says, softly tracing the vein on the underside of Mark's dick with his tongue.

"N-not sure if that's such a good idea…" Sure Mark wants to look at him, but he's been pretty good so far about not losing control and just fucking Jack's mouth, and he knows - he just knows that if he looks down he's not gonna be able to help himself.

"'Cause I'm a guy?" Jack questions, moving his mouth down to suck at one of Mark's testicles. "Or 'cause I'm... me?"

"Neither." Mark clenches his eyes shut, and finds himself tugging on the short hair at the back of Jack's neck. He can feel his heart racing, but tries to sound blasé as he says, "I just don't wanna accidentally choke you with my huuuuge dick."

"Uh huh." Jack nods against his thigh, and Mark twitches at the feeling of his stubble on his skin. "Well, ya know, it's the biggest dick I've ever had in my mouth."

Mark scoffs. "I know you're being sarcastic, but jokes on you 'cause I am still incredibly flattered."

Jack slaps his thigh lightly. "Just fuckin' open your eyes, ya dingus."

Mark finally does and sees Jack on his knees before him, his pale face highlighted by the faint light coming through the living room windows. His hair is mussed and his eyes are wide and focused, staring right back at Mark.

"Good boy." Jack smiles at him. There's a shine to his lips even in the dimness of the room, and Mark kind of just wants to kiss it away.

"Get up here," he commands hoarsely, trying to pull Jack up by the collar of his shirt.

"Not yet," Jack says, his voice deep and raspy. "Want you to come first." His fingers start slowly sliding up Mark's thigh.

This time Mark can't rip his gaze away as Jack starts to stroke him, his fingers tightly wrapped around his cock. He just can't get over the sight of Jack sitting there between his legs, jerking him off. Then, while staring up at Mark, he brings his mouth close to the tip and mouths at it, murmuring, "You gonna come for me, Marky Mark?"

"Maybe if you shut the fuck up and blow me already." Mark threads his fingers into Jack's hair, gently urging his head down.

"Pleasure!" Jack grins up at him, and swallows down his cock.

Mark writhes against the couch, and he has to bite his wrist to keep quiet when he feels the head of his penis push against the back of Jack's throat. "Fuck, ah, are you… is that okay?"

Jack doesn't pull off to answer, his tongue just squirms slightly as he runs a soothing hand over Mark's hip. His cheeks hollow as he sucks, green hair splaying over his eyes as he moves further down.

"Don't… don't push yourself, Jacky-boy," Mark says, stroking the back of Jack's neck.

Jack just hums and sucks harder, soothes his hand over Mark's balls and the base of his cock as he does so.

Mark moans loudly, and he's not quite fast enough to smother the sound with his fist as it seems to echo into the hall. He spares a brief hope that it didn't wake up any of their pets, but then Jack's head is moving, and Mark can't focus on anything.

He wraps a hand around the base of his cock, feeling so damnclose as he jerks himself with Jack wetly sucking on the head.

"Jack, Jack," he pants, squeezing himself a little on a downstroke. "Fuck. Man, you gotta back off… I'm gonna…"

Jack doesn't, instead he wraps his hand around Mark's, forcing his fist to move faster and aiming the tip at his mouth. He looks up right before Mark's orgasm hits, blue eyes meeting brown as Mark swears, arches his back, and comes.

Most of it spurts onto Jack's chin, with some catching on his lower lip and the corner of his mouth. Mark drinks in the sight of him, messy with spit and come all over, mentally cataloging it for the ol' spank-bank.

"Oh fucking shit," he whines as Jack's tongue darts out, licking at his still-leaking cockhead. Jack sucks on him again, lightly pressing his tongue to the slit as Mark comes down from his orgasm, blissed-out and oversensitive. "Jesus Christ, Jack."

He heaves out his breaths as Jack finally slides his mouth off with a slick sound. Mark cringes at the feeling of cool air on his softening penis. Jeez, he could probably pass out for a few hours after that. But he never got Jack off, and though Mark's totally spent he still really wants to. "Hey, c'mere, let me..."

"Oh!" Jack looks up at him with wide eyes, wiping the lower half of his face with his shirt. "I sort of… took care of myself, actually." His voice is wrecked, and if Mark didn't just come like five seconds ago he'd definitely be getting hard again at the sound of it.

"Seriously?"

"Err, yeah." Jack sits back on his heels and reveals his bare legs, the tip of his dick sticking out just over his underwear. Mark then notices his jeans strewn on the ground beside them, safe from their bodily fluids - the shirt Jack's wearing however is covered in their come. "Do ya got some wet wipes or somethin'? I need this shirt for tomorrow."

"You are so fucking gross," Mark says, completely charmed. "Come here."

They end up sprawled on the couch together, with Mark lying underneath Jack. "When did you even take off your pants?"

Jack shrugs, settling himself onto Mark with his arms crossed, and sliding a knee between his legs. "While I was suckin' your dick," he answers simply, smirking when Mark's gaze falls to his lips. "I'm a good multitasker."

Mark murmurs faintly in agreement as he leans up and seals their lips together. He licks into Jack's mouth, not really minding the subtle taste of his own come there.

Jack hums as he pulls back. "My jaw's fuckin' sore from doin' that, by the way," he complains, then kisses Mark's chin sweetly and nestles down against him. "You're lucky I like ya."

Mark grins wide, feeling sated and sleepy. "Well, good thing it'll be my turn next time, huh?"

"Damn straight!"