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Jake’s a biter.
With Steven he’s a bit kinder. But as Marc showers, he ridicules at the number of purple marks along his skin, grouping at the meat of his shoulders and chest, and up his thighs.
This is getting a little ridiculous.
He asks Steven about it while Jake is out for a drive, leaning against his study desk with his arms crossed. “How hard does Jake bite you?”
Steven shrugs, writing down notes in his notebook with two textbooks cracked open. “It fades after a few hours. He bites you harder, I think.”
Marc laughs wearily. “Yeah. Tell me about it.” He pulls the collar of his shirt to the side.
Steven looks up, and his eyes grow wide behind his glasses. “Goodness. Does it heal with the suit?”
“Yeah. It’s just…” He searches for what he’s trying to ask. “Does he not like me?”
Steven laughs, suddenly enough that Marc jumps. “I’m sorry, love. I simply don’t think that’s a viable reason.”
Well, good. “What do you think?”
“You like when he bites you.”
“I mean, yeah, but I’m not a dog bone.”
Steven laughs again, bright and beautiful and Marc smiles to himself. “Marc!”
“Hm?”
Steven keeps laughing at whatever visual he has in his mind, and Marc waits. Once he’s regained himself, he takes off his glasses to wipe his eyes with the long sleeve of his sweater. “You should just ask him.”
“Ask him?”
“Yeah. Talk to him.”
“We talk.”
“Mhm.”
“We do.”
“I’m agreeing.”
“No, you’re not.”
Steven chuckles again. “If you're looking for my two cents, I think it’s just the way he is. Maybe he bites you harder because he doesn’t feel as bad about hurting you.”
Marc blinks. Then scowls. “Oh, well I guess you’re just an angel then, huh?”
Steven's returning smile is saccharine. The liar. “Indeed I am.”
Marc leans down and kisses his forehead. “Don’t get cocky.”
“Can you blame me?”
With the way they dote on Steven, no he cannot.
Marc pushes off the desk. “I’ll ask him later.”
“You better.”
“I will.”
“I’m holding you to it.”
Marc chuckles. “I know.”
———
“Jake.”
Jake grunts, sprawled with his face in the bed between them. Half-asleep. The sweat is cooling on his skin. Steven cards his fingers through his hair.
Marc waited all evening to ask. New bites litter his skin, layering over old ones.
Marc opens his mouth to ask, but stops. Why does it matter? It’s not like he doesn’t like the bruises. And Jake doesn’t seem to mean any harm in them.
Steven quietly clears his throat, snapping Marc from his thoughts. It’s a subtle attention-grabber.
Or, well, it would be subtle if Jake didn’t know them so well.
Jake slowly lifts his head and looks between them, eyes still blown. Then he comes to an inscrutable conclusion in his mind and tentatively asks, “What is it?”
Steven swoops in. “Nothing bad, love. Just a question.” Then he looks at Marc. And then Jake looks at Marc, his dark gaze steady and piercing, trying to read his thoughts as if they still shared one body.
Marc glances at Steven for a last boost of support, then blurts, “Why do you bite so much?”
Jake blinks in surprise, leaning back a little. He glances at Steven, who’s also waiting for the answer. Then Jake blushes pink and looks away from them. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”
“No!” Steven cries, then cups his mouth. “I mean. Um. That’s not necessary.”
Jake smiles, and relief flickers in his eyes. The smile itself looks similar to Steven’s. It’s startling. But it fades as he looks at Marc, and well, doesn’t that just make him feel like yesterday's trash?
“And you? You… I didn’t notice that you minded.” Guilt thickens his voice.
“I don’t,” Marc says quickly. Steven makes a circling motion with his finger, encouraging him to keep talking. Marc searches for more words. “I’m just confused. Do you… I thought… you like me, right?”
Jake blinks. Then he says, incredulously, “I love you.”
“There, see?” Steven straightens the covers over his legs. “Solved.”
“So why do you bite me so hard?” He brings his own hand to his bare clavicle, where three new harsh bite marks have darkened already. Jake’s eyes snap down, and he grimaces. The blush darkens.
“Ay. Sorry.” Black linen snakes over Marc’s chest. The tight bruises loosen, and when the linen disappears, purple has returned to a healthy, olive shade. “I’ll uh, try to contain myself.”
Oh.
Of course. Jake always bites when he’s overwhelmed.
He’s an idiot.
“Jake,” he says. Jake flinches. “Forget I said anything. Bite as hard as you need to.”
“Not if you don’t like it.”
“No I do, I just wanted to… make sure you like me.” He cringes as he finishes. Aware of how stupid it sounds.
Indeed, Jake is looking at him like he’s an imbecile. “I wouldn’t ride you if I didn’t like you.”
Right. Of course.
“I love you, Marc. I do.”
The blunt confession makes him fidget, but he nods all the same.
But now Steven is frowning, clearly overthinking. “Am I not satisfying you? What should I do differently?”
Jake groans and flops back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. “Can we stop talking about this?”
“No, these conversations are important. How should I please you, Jake?”
“You do, you both are amazing, why are we having this conversation?” Jake covers his face with both hands. His voice rises. “I just bite, I don’t know, I get overwhelmed. I just… feel a lot. You two always make me feel… everyone is happy here, ¿verdad?”
“Are you sure you’re satisfied?” Steven asks.
“Sí, Steven, mírame.” He weakly gestures to himself. “I can’t walk.”
Steven relaxes then, returning to tugging at Jake’s curls. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.” Jake wiggles closer to Steven until he’s close enough to rest his forehead on Steven’s chest. Steven’s fingers don’t miss a beat.
Marc inches over too and throws his arm over Jake’s side, pressing his face into the back of Jake’s neck. Steven’s fingers dance in Marc’s curls too.
Jake murmurs again, with a smile in his voice, “I am.”