"I like you better when we were gay," Reese grumbles.
"Me, too," Malcolm agrees, scowling.
He touches his neck, confused at the dull pain he feels when he presses against a certain spot, when suddenly, he remembers...
Vendetta.
Reese and Malcolm may have gotten Jessica back for all her convoluted scheming, but Malcolm hasn't exacted his revenge on Reese yet for giving him a giant hickey. It was unexpected and a little humiliating; plus, Reese has unusually sharp teeth.
Two can play at this game, Malcolm thinks.
Not giving Reese any time to think or move from his chair, Malcolm springs into action, grabs onto Reese's shoulders, and sinks his teeth into skin, determined to suck a purple, 3-day bruise on his brother's neck.
Malcolm is expecting to be roughly pushed away, or worse, punched to a bloody pulp, but after Reese's initial yelp of surprise and a half-hearted shove, he notices a suppressed moan come out of his brother's lips.
The word 'mine' crosses Malcolm's mind as he does his deed.
Malcolm sucks, bites, licks, sucks again. The entire time, Reese writhes, yet stays uncharacteristically pliant, like prey. When Malcolm reluctantly removes his mouth, a string of saliva catches between his tongue and the tender spot on Reese's neck. He briefly checks his handiwork as Reese's breaths quicken beneath him. Sure enough, a wet, beautiful, red-violet bruise is starting to bloom on his smooth skin.
Malcolm, mind heady with lust, meets his brother's blissed out gaze.
"Uh...that's for biting me yesterday," Malcolm says.
Reese smiles. "Do you know what goes best with a hickey?" He asks.
"No, what?"
Reese places one hand at the back of Malcolm's head and pulls him closer.
"This," Reese says, crashing their mouths together for a kiss, teeth aiming for Malcolm's reddened lips.