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“Oh I definitely have you beat,” Mark quips with a smug grin.
“In your dreams! I’ve got more than your mind could even comprehend!” Ethan puts emphasis on the last word and both men erupt into laughter.
“Fine. If you’re so confident, gimme a scar tour,” Mark says through the last of his laughter.
Immediately, Ethan’s face runs pale and that familiar fear of being found out strikes him in the chest. Mark and Ethan (but mostly Mark) turn everything into a competition, so obviously scars wouldn’t be a normal or civil conversation. Ethan should’ve known Mark would want proof.
“Y-you go first,” Ethan cringes at the way his voice wavers slightly.
Mark, thankfully, doesn’t notice the change in Ethan’s demeanor. He’s more than happy to show off his scars and tell the stories behind each one. It makes Ethan remember that scene in Jaws when the three gents are on the boat comparing scars. For a minute Ethan forgets that he’s up next.
Mark uses the long scar that stretches vertically across his whole stomach as the finale to his little scar tour. He definitely has more scars than the average person, but Ethan knows for a fact he has more.
Ethan thinks distantly about the hundreds of raised pink, white, and red scars that litter his thighs. He started cutting himself when he was just a teen, and it proved to be a difficult habit to kick. After a while, he sort of just came to terms with the fact that this is how just he copes. It’s not gonna kill him, and if it works for making him feel better, why should it matter?
Mark watches expectantly as Ethan gives a shaky tour of all his scars (minus the self-harm scars, of course) and when he’s done, he has substantially less than Mark.
“See? Told ya!” Mark smiles, proud of himself.
For some reason, without really thinking about it, Ethan continues, “I have more! I just.. don’t wanna show you,” he gets quieter towards the end of his sentence.
“Suuure, sure. Definitely. For sure,” Mark nods, voice drenched in sarcasm.
“I do!” Ethan protests.
“Then show me,” Mark’s tone is a little darker, like he knows he’s testing Ethan.
“Okay..” Ethan agrees before his thoughts are able to catch up to him, “Just.. don’t freak out, okay?”
“Why would I-“
Before Mark can finish questioning, Ethan stands from the couch and rolls up the legs of his shorts, revealing an impressively extensive collection of scars. There are about ten cuts that are just starting to scab, only a few days old.
Mark’s smile instantly falls from his face and his eyebrows knit together. He can’t seem to peel his eyes away from Ethan’s thighs. He kind of looks sad.
Finally, Ethan’s insecurities catch up to him and he feels sick. He lets go of where he’s holding up the legs of his shorts so his scars aren’t visible anymore. This action is what finally makes Mark’s gaze snap back up to Ethan’s face with concern.
Neither of them say anything until Ethan sits back down. Ethan starts, “Sorry.. I don’t really know why I showed you…”
“That’s..” Mark’s voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it, “Are those..?”
Ethan doesn’t dare look at Mark, finding his trembling knees to be a more interesting subject for staring. He just nods, meekly.
“Ethan..”
“It’s fine though! I’m okay, I promise,” now he forces a smile and looks at Mark, whose sad and concerned expression has gone unchanged.
“I didn’t.. I didn’t know,” Mark breaks eye contact and Ethan feels incredibly guilty.
Ethan doesn’t know what to say, so he says the first thing that comes to mind without thinking to filter it, “You can touch them if you want.”
His voice is squeaky and unsure. Mark looks back up and meets his gaze again, and to Ethan’s surprise, Mark just nods.
Okay, this is happening, that’s fine , even Ethan’s thinking voice is wobbly. He feels like he’s moving in slow motion as his trembling hands move to roll up the pant leg closest to Mark. Mark shifts so he’s facing Ethan and looks at up him nervously through his eyelashes. Ethan feels unbearably exposed, but something about it being Mark is comforting.
Mark’s hand kind of just hovers above Ethan’s thigh, like he’s scared to actually do anything. To help him, Ethan grabs Mark’s hand in his, guiding him on where and how to touch. Mark’s finger pads lightly graze over a couple raised scars, back and forth a few times. Eventually, Ethan lets go and just allows Mark to do his own thing.
Ethan’s breathing picks up, nervousness settling in his chest and throat. Mark hasn’t said anything, but he finds himself strangely transfixed with the little bumps.
“Is this okay..?” His hand ceases its movement but his fingertips are still brushed up against Ethan’s thigh.
“Y-yeah. Yeah, of course,” Ethan’s voice is still shaky, not that Mark’s was anymore stable.
Mark redirects his eyes back down to look at Ethan’s scars some more before he chuckles, “Yeah you definitely have more scars than me.”
Ethan laughs a little and the heavy air in between them loosens its grip on the awkwardness.
Mark sprawls his fingers out and covers more surface area, like he’s trying to count every scar there. Ethan’s breath hitches when Mark’s hands wander a little too far on his inner thigh.
“Oh. Sorry,” Mark pulls his hand away bashfully.
“It’s.. it’s okay,” Ethan talks quiet and low in his throat as his eyes flick from Mark’s gaze, to his lips, and back up to meet his eyes again. Mark’s cheeks flush with color and he looks down at Ethan’s thigh again.
“Can I..?”
It takes Ethan a moment to register that Mark is basically asking to go in for seconds. When he does realize, his mouth runs entirely dry and all he can do is nod.
Mark’s fingers travel up Ethan’s outer thigh this time, and Ethan feels slightly disappointed. His mind is pulled away from anything unsavory though as Mark raises another concerned question.
“Are these.. how recent are these?” Mark’s fingers brush over the fresh scabs, and he finds himself enjoying the change in texture.
“They’re.. uhm, maybe like.. three days old?” Ethan tries to remember.
“Jesus, Ethan..” Mark won’t make eye contact again. Ethan can’t tell if he’s disappointed or just worried.
“It’s fine, Mark. Really. Everybody deals with things differently, right?”
“Yeah, but this.. this isn’t..” Mark doesn’t finish his sentence but he also doesn’t pull his hand away. He looks up again when his hand begins to wander over the surface that is Ethan’s thigh. When did they get this close? The tips of their noses are practically touching and Ethan’s heavy breathing is right in line with Mark’s lips.
Mark doesn’t pull away, so Ethan doesn’t either. Mark’s hand instead continues to explore Ethan’s thigh, getting closer to the soft inner thigh skin.
“Mark..” Ethan breathes.
Mark leans in even more, and when he speaks, Ethan can feel their lips graze against each other, “They’re so smooth,” is all Mark says. Ethan isn’t sure if he’s talking about his thighs or the scars themselves but he doesn’t really care that much because Mark connects their lips fervently.
Ethan gasps into the kiss, giving Mark opportunity to deepen it. His hand also tightens its grip on Ethan’s sensitive inner thigh, causing a shiver to run up Ethan’s spine.
When Mark starts to lick at Ethan’s bottom lip, requesting entrance to his mouth, Ethan pulls away. They don’t go far from each other, they’re still connected via Mark’s hand on Ethan’s thigh and the string of spit that wavers between their lips.
Ethan wipes his mouth with the back of a sweaty hand, “Mark-“
“You don’t have to say anything,” Mark cuts him off a little dejectedly. He probably came off colder than he intended, as he often does, but Ethan isn’t really sure what his next move is. There’s no way Mark thinks he’s being rejected right now. Right?
Apparently he does, because he begins to pull away from Ethan. His hand releases its grip on Ethan’s thigh and Ethan immediately snatches Mark’s wrist in his hand.
“Mark, dude. I am so confused right now,” he laughs a little exasperated.
Mark laughs too, always humored by Ethan being subpar at problem solving when it comes to awkward situations.
“Your hand is really sweaty,” Mark whispers. Not a sexy whisper though, more like a grossed out whisper.
“So are yours,” Ethan retorts, not entirely untrue.
After a beat of silence Mark starts again, “I’m sorry if I was too intense.”
Ethan’s gaze softens but he laughs, “Dude, I just needed some air, chill out.”
Mark’s face flushes a bit more and he averts his eyes, “Oh.”
“You can kiss me again,” Ethan remains smiling, “if you want,” he tacks on the end.
Mark looks at Ethan for probably half a second more before connecting their lips again. Yeesh. Someone’s desperate.
But hey, Ethan isn’t complaining! And he’s definitely not complaining when Mark starts to push him a bit further back on the large white sofa. Mark uses the space and leverage to slot one of his knees between Ethan’s thighs.
“Can I keep touching them?” Mark breathes, almost eagerly.
“Huh?” Ethan feels a little dopey from the kissing.
“Your scars,” Mark says quieter and gentler.
Ethan feels his mouth run dry and blood rush both up to his face and down below his stomach. Interesting.
Ethan nods a little frantically, cups Mark’s jaw in his hands, and pulls him in for another kiss. Mark’s hands make their way so that each of them is touching one of Ethan’s thighs. He’s doing that same rubbing motion over Ethan’s scars and Ethan can’t help it if he whimpers a little bit. It’s not often that area of him gets positive touch, and it feels kinda nice. It feels even better with the knowledge that it’s coming from Mark.
The angle at which they’re kissing is a little awkward because of where Mark wants to put his hands, so Ethan brings his knees closer to his chest with Mark still in between them. Mark shifts his wrists so his fingers are mostly on Ethan’s hips, but his thumbs are still running over Ethan’s thighs.
Ethan uses the slight change in angle to slip his fingers under the hem of Mark’s shirt, shyly ghosting his fingers over Mark’s skin, unsure of what crosses the line.
Then, he asks, “Do you want me to take my pants off?”
Mark blinks at him maybe three times before, “Yeah- uh- yes. Yeah. Sure. Yes.”
I’m glad I’m not the only nervous one , Ethan laughs to himself as he lays back and shimmies out of his shorts. Once they’re off and discarded on the ground, the two men take a moment to just look at each other.
It’s a little awkward. Naturally, as a man of improv, Mark cracks a joke, “This is just to get easier access to the scars. No other reason,” Mark delivers, a bit over the top so that he can really get the point across that this is a bit.
Ethan catches it and his eyes light up, “Well, duh. Any other reason would be pretty gay,” he jokes back dumbly. It’s not the smoothest recovery either of them have ever made, but it works and they laugh into their next kiss.
Mark slips his fingers in between Ethan’s thighs and the tight fabric of his boxer briefs, pulling a gasp from Ethan. Ethan reaches for Mark’s shirt, a bit more confident now.
He grabs a fistful of the fabric on Mark’s back and shakes it a bit as he grumbles, “Off.”
Mark is smiling when he pulls back and strips his shirt, tossing it to the wooden floor where it joins Ethan’s now forgotten shorts. When he reconnects their lips, he’s seemingly forgotten all about Ethan’s scars. Mark slots himself flush against Ethan, practically shoving Ethan into the couch cushions in the process.
Their legs intertwine and Ethan’s hips involuntarily buck up against Mark’s. When he opens his mouth to fumble with an apology, Mark instead chews on Ethan’s spit-glossed bottom lip with a whimper, not even giving him a chance to speak. So, Ethan rocks his hips up again, experimentally, and receives a similarly positive response.
“Ethan, can I-“
“Mhm. Yes, anything.”
They’re both panting and Mark only hesitates for a moment before slipping his fingers under the waistband of Ethan’s boxer briefs. Ethan shivers into another kiss as Mark pushes his underwear to his ankles. Similarly, Mark scoots out of his own pants and boxer briefs, but again isn’t bothered to remove his clothes fully. Ethan rolls his eyes subtly.
When Mark leans down to connect their lips again, their now nude dicks brush against each other. Ethan hums softly and the simultaneous motions of their hips continues. They use each other to get friction where they need it while they breathe air from each other’s mouths.
After awhile of just that, Mark decides to take them both in one of his hands. The differences in their weight and length takes a moment for him to get used to, but he doesn’t let up on the pace. As Mark speeds up his hand and hip movements, Ethan scrambles for support, clawing at Mark’s arm and shoulders as he arches into Mark’s hand.
“Mar- Mark..!” Ethan chokes on a whimper as his own hip roles get a bit twitchier.
“Close?” Mark smiles smugly, but his breath is wobbly too and Ethan knows better.
Unfortunately, all Ethan can manage in response is a measly, “Uh-huh.”
Mark, cocky bastard as always, flicks his wrist with a little more intention, his fingers rubbing against the head of Ethan’s dick every couple of strokes. Ethan cums all over Mark’s hand, Mark’s dick, and both of their torsos. Ethan trembles as that familiar warm, sticky, white substance flows from him steadily. He vaguely registers when Mark cums, the same flow of pleasure and relief evident in the way Mark moans Ethan’s name. Mark colapses next to Ethan, flopping over on the roomy couch. They breathe into the living room air for a moment longer.
When Mark sits up, he notices Ethan’s scars again, and starts absentmindedly running his fingers across them. His touch is less featherlight, more sure, and Ethan just watches Mark’s hands and face for a minute before he too sits up. Mark doesn’t budge his hand or gaze from Ethan’s thigh until the feeling of Ethan’s eyes on him start to burn.
“Sorry,” he mumbles bashfully as he pulls his hand away.
“S’okay. Your interest in them is.. kinda nice,” Ethan speaks softly but wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis anyways.
Mark’s smile cracks a bit bigger, “Like I said, you definitely have more scars than me,” he looks back down at the raised scars.
Ethan watches Mark and smiles at the lack of sadness in Mark’s expression. Mark leans back down and peppers as many kisses as he can along Ethan’s scars. They’re both silently smiling and Ethan pets down Mark’s sexed-up hair.
”Hey, Mark..?” Ethan’s hesitant for a man with his dick out.
“Mm-hmm?” Mark questions with a hum, still planting kisses up and down Ethan’s thighs.
Ethan intertwines his fingers with Mark’s hair, softly massaging his scalp, “Do you.. do we need to uh… talk about,” he pauses to laugh uncomfortably, “uhm.. ya know.”
Mark lifts his head finally, smiling brightly, “What? Us having sex or you hurting yourself?”
Ethan blushes profusely, averts his eyes, and pulls his hand away. Mark’s smile softens and he offers a little less animosity.
”Sorry. Do you wanna talk about it?” He keeps his hands on Ethan’s thighs and rubs small reassuring circles there. Ethan thinks he could get used to that.
”Eh..” he shrugs, smiling, “let’s just.. play it by ear,” his grin spreads bigger and gets a tad darker. Mark’s face heats up a little and his smile widens as well.
Mark cranes his neck and connects their lips again, softer now, “I like the way you think.”