Too Late For Sorry (ii)

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A/N Many of you wanted a second part, so why the fuck not? :)


"Jacky!"

Mark called to his boyfriend.

"What?"

"I want cuddles."

A loud sigh came from the recording room, and after a second Jack came out.

"You're damn lucky I just finished recording, Mark," said Jack, sitting on the couch.

Mark sat down next to him.

"Movie?"

"Sure."

Mark popped Hunger Games into the disc player, and the movie started up.

Jack sighed and leaned into Mark's side, making the half Korean flinch. Suddenly he recalled what had happened two days ago: Jack had tickled him past hysterics, and he had vowed revenge. He glanced at Jack.

Does he remember?

Mark pulled Jack into his lap. The green haired boy didn't react, just kept his bright blue eyes on the television.

Not yet.

I won't attack yet.

But soon.

                        ##########

Jack returned from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. He set it down on the table in front of the two, and unpaused the movie. 

Mark wrapped his arms around Jack's chest, making him squeak with surprise.

So close....

Just wait, Mark, wait until the perfect moment.

"Hey, Jacky, could you move the popcorn over there?" Mark pointed to the far side of the table.

"Why?" Jack sounded confused.

"I feel like you're gonna kick it."

Jack just shrugged and pushed the bowl to the far end of the table.

My chance!

Mark quickly shot his hand to Jack's right side, making him squeal and shoot his hand back, nearly knocking over the popcorn.

"The fuck was that fer?" Said Jack half-angrily.

"Don't forget what you did to me two days ago," Mark teased.

Jack's face went ghost white and he tried to stand up, but Mark pulled him back down and pinned him to his chest.

"Mark, please, I'm sorry!"

"Too late for sorry, Jackaboy!"

"Don't!"

"Don't what?"

"Tickle me."

"Tickle you? With pleasure!" And Mark began to knead Jack's right side with one hand and ruthlessly scratch at his tummy with the other. Jack shrieked and broke into loud laughter.

"IHIHIHI THOHOHOHOUGHT WEHEHE WEHEHERE WAHAHATCHIHING THEHE MOHOVIHIE?" Forced Jack through his wild laughter.

"We are! Be quiet, I can't hear!" Mark just began to drum his fingers on Jack's ribs with both hands, eliciting cute, squeaky giggles.

"Ihihihi cahahahan't, mahahark!" Jack let out a sharp squeal when his boyfriend pinched his thigh.

"What did I say? Now I must punish you!" Mark planted his lips on Jack's neck, sucked in a breath...


and blew.

Jack screeched and kicked out, his foot flying to where the popcorn had been before he had moved it.

"That's why I told you to move the popcorn!" Said Mark.

"STAHAHAHAHAP!" Cackled Jack, eyes squeezed shut.

"Not yet, you doof!"

As Mark thought for a minute, Jack sucked in air greedily. The peace wouldn't last long.

"What does your neck taste like?" Said Mark out of the blue.

"W-what?"

"What does it taste like?"

Jack turned pink.

"N-not good, no need for you to-"

"Let me try." And Mark lowered his head to Jack's neck and began to nibble on it. Jack shrieked and burst out laughing.

"What do you mean, not good?" Said Mark, lifting his head for a minute. "It's yummy!"

Mark leaned back down and began again, making obnoxious nomming noises. Jack turned dark red and covered his face with his hands. Quickly Mark grabbed the Irishman's wrists in his hand and brought them above his head.

"I want to see your face, love," said Mark sweetly.

"Maharky, noho!" Jack struggled, his face lit like a beacon.

"What?" 

"Noho tihihickles!"

"But I wanna!" Whined Mark, scooping Jack up bridal style, which made Jack somehow go redder.

Mark carried his boyfriend upstairs and dropped him on the bed, with an oof  from Jack.

"Now, I have one spot I haven't gotten yet. Do you know what it is?"

Jack shook his head.

"I'll give you a hint: it's worse than your right side."

"Jack paled.

"Mark, not my knees..."

"Ding ding diiing!" Said Mark, diving onto Jack's ankles and sitting on them, facing him.

"Noho!" Jack squeaked, giggling from anticipation.

Mark began to drum his fingers on Jack's kneecaps.

"MAHAHAHAHAHARK STAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" Jack was unable to finish his sentence, it tickled so bad.

"Mark what? Mark keep going? Okay!" Mark went under his knees and Jack went ballistic, kicking and screaming with laughter, tears streaming down his face. His laughter went quiet after a few seconds, and Mark stopped, getting off his ankles and going up to Jack.

"Babe?"

He was asleep.

Mark giggled and picked him up, carrying him downstairs.

The red haired man sat down and lay Jack on the couch next to him.

Jack stirred.

"Jack?"

"Hate you..." he murmured, making Mark laugh.

"Cmere, babe," said Mark, pulling Jack next to him.

Jack grabbed the popcorn bowl again and set his attention to the screen, where the movie had been playing all this time and was now on the credits.

"Fuuuuuck..." said Jack heatedly.

"It's okay, we can watch something else."

"No more tickles?" Said Jack quietly, staring up at Mark.

"Not tonight."

"Good."

And the pair stared at the black and white credits of Hunger Games, lost in each of their own worlds.



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