It's Good To Be The King Ch.3 - Bones Slash Jack/Zack Rated R
Jack figures out where he fits on the food chain.
It's Good To Be The King
Chapter 3
Having a friend over for a movie was no big deal. It did not require pacing or fluffing the couch pillows. That's why Hodgins was sitting on his couch, rigid, immobile and way too tense for the occasion. He jumped when Zack rang the doorbell.
Opening the door for Zack, gingerly, only a crack, Hodgins gave him a visual frisking. He made sure Zack didn't carry anything like flowers, a heart shaped box of chocolates, handcuffs or a sex toy. He also checked that he wasn't dressed inappropriately for casual movie watching. He wasn't wearing leather, spandex, or a French maid's outfit, so he was allowed in. Hodgins rubbed his temples to evict Zack in various outfits from his brain. An ordinary version of Zack sat on the couch, and picked up a big bowl of Cheetos from the coffee table.
"What are we watching?" he asked.
"Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes." Jack tried not to be distracted by the suddenly interesting sight of Zack stuffing a Cheeto in his mouth.
Jack started the movie then stood there considering where to sit. He tried his favorite recliner but found that instead of watching the movie he was watching Zack watching the movie. Also he was too far away from the snacks. He moved to the couch. Almost immediately he was up again reaching for a soda. When he sat back down his arm was against Zack's. Was this it? In one electric moment would all his hard work of discouragement be undone? But Zack didn't seem to find arm to arm contact particularly arousing. He just kept watching the movie. Jack timed his grab for a handful of Cheetos so that his and Zack's hands would touch. He watched for a reaction. Zack just passed the bowl over to him. Jack sighed.
"You don't like it?" Zack asked in response to the sigh. It took Jack a minute to figure out that he was referring to the DVD. Jack glanced up at the screen possibly for the first time. Unlike him, Zack was not distracted at all. Jack decided to fix that.
"You're not mad at me or anything? You know, for turning you down," Jack probed.
"No," Zack said, giving most of his attention to the movie, the rest to snacks.
"So you are OK? I don't have to make it up to you or anything?"
"I don't like being rejected so you could..."
"Who's rejecting you?" Jack interrupted in a seductive voice.
Zack didn't seem to take the hint and just kept talking.
"You might want to check my Amazon list for an appropriately apologetic gift."
"What?" Jack glared at Zack. Zack was unfazed by the glare because he didn't take his eyes off the TV screen.
"You started this, you know. I can't believe I have to seduce you." Jack said, getting up and almost spilling the Cheetos.
Zack placed the Cheetos bowl securely on the coffee table. He paused the DVD. He looked thoughtful while Jack waited for a response.
"Are you good at seducing?" Zack asked looking up at Jack.
"Of course I am." Jack's answer was automatic. There was no doubt about that. he was a master.
"Then I'll look forward to being seduced," Zack said, got up, wiped his hands on his pant legs and left.
Jack stared after him and after a long delay yelled, "What?!"
Knowing he should cut his losses and pack it in didn't make any difference to a gambling addict or to Hodgins. The guy who gets up from the table gives up any chance of winning. The guy who sticks it out against all reason, tries to bluff his way through while holding a crappy hand - he gets to lose his shirt. Jack was more worried about losing his pants and his dignity. All day Jack had resisted the urge to corner Zack at work, or to throw spitballs at his neck. He waited till they got home to lose his dignity and possibly pants. He dragged Zack back to the scene of the crime and confessed to the gruesome deed.
"You were seducing me?" Zack asked innocently after Jack painstakingly explained his crime to the intended victim..
"Yes," Jack gasped like a dying fish.
"With the big bowl of Cheetos and a rented movie?"
"Yes. And why not?" Zack apparently had issues with his weapons of choice.
"Are Cheetos usually part of your seduction strategy? Not oysters or caviar perhaps? Do they serve Cheetos in fancy restaurants?"
"They serve whatever they can charge two hundred bucks a plate for!"
Crassostrea gigas on ice and Acipenseridae roe on toast points, wouldn't that be just perfect. He could just see feeding those to Zack in the soft glow of candlelight while romantic music set the mood. Greedy little bastard. Zack would be lucky to get a frozen fish stick and some furtive groping. If that.
"Zack, do you know what you are saying? You want a date?"
Zack did not think this was an outlandish idea. He thought it was an invitation.
"I am free Friday night," Zack said.
"You are free every night!"
"Then I accept." Zack got up to leave. Jack blocked his way.
"OK. Just satisfy my curiosity. What would you wear if I took you to a fancy restaurant?"
"A suit," was Zack's simple-minded reply.
"Your courtroom suit?"
"Yes."
Jack continued interrogating, pacing the floor. Zack cooperatively followed him with his eyes.
"And you want me to go all out?" Jack asked.
"Yes."
"Zack, do you know that you are not a woman?" Here Jack stopped to stare at Zack, to see if anything he said registered. Of course it didn't.
"I did know that, all the major anatomical markers..."
Jack stopped him with an upraised hand and sighed. God, he was so dense.
"I was hoping that making it with a guy might at least have some benefits like not having to make reservations, dress up or worry about how I smelled."
"I would prefer it if you bathed."
"We'll bathe together. After." Jack missed Zack's smile at that promise since he didn't realize he made it as he was in the middle of a rant. "You know what? I have nothing to prove. You know me. If I haven't impressed you, I got nothing. If you don't like the basic model, don't buy. I'm not throwing in any extras." Who the hell did Zack think he was?
Jack was thinking that his ultimatum might put an end to this ridiculous negotiation for his much sought after sexual favors. Zack was thinking something else. He was staring back at Jack appraisingly, like Jack was a car he might or might not buy.
"I haven't seen you naked yet," was Zack's next demand. And then what? A test drive?
"I'll strip right now." Jack took up the challenge and pulled his shirt off over his head. He threw it on the floor at Zack's feet. Not seeing this as a gauntlet being thrown down, but more as an offering, Zack reached to pick up the shirt. Jack snatched it away and put it back on.
"Can you do it more slowly?" Zack asked. He sat down, made himself comfortable.
"Want some music with that?" Jack asked pulling his shirt back into place.
"Do you have stripping music?"
"Zack."
"What?"
"Can we get real?"
"Naked is real."
"I'm not stripping unless you're stripping."
"But if I strip I can't watch you strip."
"God, you are weird.," Jack said as he sat down too. "The good news is I think our friendship is safe."
"I'm glad. Can you strip now?" Zack said turning halfway to him.
"You really want to see me naked?"
"Yes. I've pictured it. Not just it," Zack pointed. "But it is my main point of interest. Then your buttocks." Zack pointed again.
Jack was uneasy at these words. And there was a look in Zack's eyes, a dark, frightening gleam. For some reason Jack saw a Pepsis formosa stinger paralyzing a carefully chosen tarantula, a nice, plump Theraphosa blondi let's say, to be dragged off to its burrow for further unspeakable acts.
"Zack, what do you think you're going to be doing with my ass?"
"Things I've read about."
What had Zack been reading?
"You are scaring me." Jack stood up.
"I'll be gentle and considerate. I am aware of physical limitations of male anatomy, partly from my own personal experience and experimentation and also from extensive study. I wouldn't want to damage you."
Jack gaped.
"Zack, I don't know if I want to laugh or run away."
"I notice that you didn't mention stripping among your options. I can't do any of the things I am planning if you are clothed."
"I'm supposed to be seducing you," Jack reminded him, though it seemed to him things had gone way beyond that.
"You are very slow at it."
"Want some Cheetos?"
"No."
Jack went to the kitchen anyway after warning Zack not to follow him. God knows what ideas he would get in there. Jack poured himself a glass of water, then pored it out deciding on a shot of something else. After grabbing the first bottle at hand, he skipped the glass. Like a good host, he briefly considered offering some to Zack. Drunk Zack. The thought made him shudder. He capped the bottle, realizing that drunk Jack was also a bad idea. The last thing he wanted was to be at Zack's mercy. Hit by the realization that he was cowering in his own kitchen, Jack stared at his distorted reflection in the microwave door. What was wrong with this picture? This was his house, he was king here. That sneaky bastard infiltrated the place, and now Jack had to make up for lost ground. If this was a competition - and it was - so far Zack was winning. Oh, no. Not on Jack's home turf. He may have gone into the kitchen as a man in need of courage, but he strode out as a man of decision, a man of power. He was taking charge.
"Zack, let me explain something to you..."
A good way for Jack to guarantee himself a headache was to try and explain a piece of human psychology to Zack. The best part was that Jack didn't understand it himself and was just throwing out cliches for the hell of it. Or maybe it wasn't hard to understand. Fear is pretty straightforward. Jack decided to go for a more exotic explanation for why things just couldn't work out for him and Zack.
"So you only want me when I am not interested," Zack summed up.
"Zack, I'm a man. I'm a hunter. I don't want my pray coming after me." Jack pictures himself as a spear wielding, fir bedecked, prehistoric hunter. That's right, he was a hunter. Oh, this was good stuff, primal and manly. And he was in need of a big dose manly right now.
"I'm not pray," Zack bleated.
"It's how I operate. " Jack did his best to put a little danger into his voice.
Zack turned his back.
"Ok, I'm ignoring you. Go ahead. You can pounce on me."
Jack pictured taking him down like a leggy gazelle at a watering hole. Zack was scratching his ear.
"You call that a challenge. At least put up your horns." Maybe a hunting analogy wasn't for Zack. "Let's say that it's like an easy algorithm, where's the fun? "
Zack turned to face him.
"I see. In this scenario you are too smart and I am too simple?
"The first part, definitely." The second part too but he decided not to insult Zack to his face. And immediately regretted it.
"I am smarter than you," Zack said.
"Don't start pulling out the IQ test. Let's confine this discussion to matters bellow the belt."
"I'd like to do things that involve above the belt areas as well as below the belt and above the belt areas in combination."
"Really? You want the combination?"
Zack nodded.
"Ok. Let's do it!" Jack kicked off his shoes. Words weren't going to win this. If it was going to take action to get the job done, then Jack was a man of action. Jack took off his belt.
"Not the IQ test the other thing, right? Because I will win the IQ test," Zack asked stupidly.
Why would he need to take off his shoes and belt for an IQ test? Instead of asking, Hodgins grabbed Zack and gave him a good, deep kiss. He pulled back a little out of breath leaving Zack a little stunned.
"OK. That's better. Conversation over. Good." Jack was a little stunned himself. The physical reality of this thing was kicking in and he was reeling. This was it. Zack didn't wait for him to get his head together if that was even possible. He moved in for another kiss. Now on the receiving end, Jack found himself comparing their techniques.
"I kiss better," he said when they stopped for air.
"That is a completely baseless assertion since you could never be on the receiving end of your own kiss," Zack countered.
"Are you going to argue with me about everything?"
"If you keep making unfounded claims."
They kissed again this time slower and somewhere along the way Jack even stopped showing off. Instead, he became aware of his arms around Zack and Zack's around him, crushing them against each other. He was aware of their bodies grinding together, the friction of their clothes, their zippers. The wet slide of their mouths would stop for the occasional breath. Feeling the change in Zack's body and wanting Zack to feel him, still somewhere in the back of Jack's mind he wanted to impress him. Jack stopped. Zack looked bewildered, wide eyed, gripping his shirt so he couldn't move away. Jack reached down to his fly and unzipped himself.
Zack looked at what was offered to him with an expression Jack hoped was admiration.
"I like it," Zack announced.
"Glad to hear that because you are about to get well acquainted with it," Jack said surprised with the hoarseness in his voice. He put his hand on Zack's neck. "Get down," he told him.
Zack looked a little shocked as he kneeled. He also looked like he didn't know where to start. Jack expected he would need to give a few instructions. Then Zack started licking and Jack's instructions were just a continuous "mmmm".
"I think you should sit down," Zack advised. Jack briefly wondered how many points he lost for not being able to stay on his feet. He knew he already lost some for the complaining moan when Zack took his mouth off him.
Jack sat. Zack pulled Jack's pants down to his ankles to make room for himself between his knees. Jack pushed back Zack's hair to see that he had a very serious look on his face, like a man determined to win an all you can eat contest on his first try.
"Zack, don't get too ambitious."
Zak looked up.
"I think this is an important skill."
Sure, like removing every last speck of flesh from a bone, Jack thought but he was afraid if he said it out loud Zack would launch into a discussion of actual methods. With his pants down and Zack's lips back on the job, Jack was not in the mood for that. He briefly felt the entrance to Zack's throat. He gasped.
"Stay in the shallow end. Don't want you to drown."
"I can swim."
"What does that mean?" Zack didn't answer he went back to using his tongue. As Jack's brain was swimming, liquefying with pleasure, Jack vaguely wondered if what he was feeling was talent or experience or something else, something uniquely Zack.
to be continued
It's Good To Be The King
Chapter 3
Having a friend over for a movie was no big deal. It did not require pacing or fluffing the couch pillows. That's why Hodgins was sitting on his couch, rigid, immobile and way too tense for the occasion. He jumped when Zack rang the doorbell.
Opening the door for Zack, gingerly, only a crack, Hodgins gave him a visual frisking. He made sure Zack didn't carry anything like flowers, a heart shaped box of chocolates, handcuffs or a sex toy. He also checked that he wasn't dressed inappropriately for casual movie watching. He wasn't wearing leather, spandex, or a French maid's outfit, so he was allowed in. Hodgins rubbed his temples to evict Zack in various outfits from his brain. An ordinary version of Zack sat on the couch, and picked up a big bowl of Cheetos from the coffee table.
"What are we watching?" he asked.
"Attack Of The Killer Tomatoes." Jack tried not to be distracted by the suddenly interesting sight of Zack stuffing a Cheeto in his mouth.
Jack started the movie then stood there considering where to sit. He tried his favorite recliner but found that instead of watching the movie he was watching Zack watching the movie. Also he was too far away from the snacks. He moved to the couch. Almost immediately he was up again reaching for a soda. When he sat back down his arm was against Zack's. Was this it? In one electric moment would all his hard work of discouragement be undone? But Zack didn't seem to find arm to arm contact particularly arousing. He just kept watching the movie. Jack timed his grab for a handful of Cheetos so that his and Zack's hands would touch. He watched for a reaction. Zack just passed the bowl over to him. Jack sighed.
"You don't like it?" Zack asked in response to the sigh. It took Jack a minute to figure out that he was referring to the DVD. Jack glanced up at the screen possibly for the first time. Unlike him, Zack was not distracted at all. Jack decided to fix that.
"You're not mad at me or anything? You know, for turning you down," Jack probed.
"No," Zack said, giving most of his attention to the movie, the rest to snacks.
"So you are OK? I don't have to make it up to you or anything?"
"I don't like being rejected so you could..."
"Who's rejecting you?" Jack interrupted in a seductive voice.
Zack didn't seem to take the hint and just kept talking.
"You might want to check my Amazon list for an appropriately apologetic gift."
"What?" Jack glared at Zack. Zack was unfazed by the glare because he didn't take his eyes off the TV screen.
"You started this, you know. I can't believe I have to seduce you." Jack said, getting up and almost spilling the Cheetos.
Zack placed the Cheetos bowl securely on the coffee table. He paused the DVD. He looked thoughtful while Jack waited for a response.
"Are you good at seducing?" Zack asked looking up at Jack.
"Of course I am." Jack's answer was automatic. There was no doubt about that. he was a master.
"Then I'll look forward to being seduced," Zack said, got up, wiped his hands on his pant legs and left.
Jack stared after him and after a long delay yelled, "What?!"
Knowing he should cut his losses and pack it in didn't make any difference to a gambling addict or to Hodgins. The guy who gets up from the table gives up any chance of winning. The guy who sticks it out against all reason, tries to bluff his way through while holding a crappy hand - he gets to lose his shirt. Jack was more worried about losing his pants and his dignity. All day Jack had resisted the urge to corner Zack at work, or to throw spitballs at his neck. He waited till they got home to lose his dignity and possibly pants. He dragged Zack back to the scene of the crime and confessed to the gruesome deed.
"You were seducing me?" Zack asked innocently after Jack painstakingly explained his crime to the intended victim..
"Yes," Jack gasped like a dying fish.
"With the big bowl of Cheetos and a rented movie?"
"Yes. And why not?" Zack apparently had issues with his weapons of choice.
"Are Cheetos usually part of your seduction strategy? Not oysters or caviar perhaps? Do they serve Cheetos in fancy restaurants?"
"They serve whatever they can charge two hundred bucks a plate for!"
Crassostrea gigas on ice and Acipenseridae roe on toast points, wouldn't that be just perfect. He could just see feeding those to Zack in the soft glow of candlelight while romantic music set the mood. Greedy little bastard. Zack would be lucky to get a frozen fish stick and some furtive groping. If that.
"Zack, do you know what you are saying? You want a date?"
Zack did not think this was an outlandish idea. He thought it was an invitation.
"I am free Friday night," Zack said.
"You are free every night!"
"Then I accept." Zack got up to leave. Jack blocked his way.
"OK. Just satisfy my curiosity. What would you wear if I took you to a fancy restaurant?"
"A suit," was Zack's simple-minded reply.
"Your courtroom suit?"
"Yes."
Jack continued interrogating, pacing the floor. Zack cooperatively followed him with his eyes.
"And you want me to go all out?" Jack asked.
"Yes."
"Zack, do you know that you are not a woman?" Here Jack stopped to stare at Zack, to see if anything he said registered. Of course it didn't.
"I did know that, all the major anatomical markers..."
Jack stopped him with an upraised hand and sighed. God, he was so dense.
"I was hoping that making it with a guy might at least have some benefits like not having to make reservations, dress up or worry about how I smelled."
"I would prefer it if you bathed."
"We'll bathe together. After." Jack missed Zack's smile at that promise since he didn't realize he made it as he was in the middle of a rant. "You know what? I have nothing to prove. You know me. If I haven't impressed you, I got nothing. If you don't like the basic model, don't buy. I'm not throwing in any extras." Who the hell did Zack think he was?
Jack was thinking that his ultimatum might put an end to this ridiculous negotiation for his much sought after sexual favors. Zack was thinking something else. He was staring back at Jack appraisingly, like Jack was a car he might or might not buy.
"I haven't seen you naked yet," was Zack's next demand. And then what? A test drive?
"I'll strip right now." Jack took up the challenge and pulled his shirt off over his head. He threw it on the floor at Zack's feet. Not seeing this as a gauntlet being thrown down, but more as an offering, Zack reached to pick up the shirt. Jack snatched it away and put it back on.
"Can you do it more slowly?" Zack asked. He sat down, made himself comfortable.
"Want some music with that?" Jack asked pulling his shirt back into place.
"Do you have stripping music?"
"Zack."
"What?"
"Can we get real?"
"Naked is real."
"I'm not stripping unless you're stripping."
"But if I strip I can't watch you strip."
"God, you are weird.," Jack said as he sat down too. "The good news is I think our friendship is safe."
"I'm glad. Can you strip now?" Zack said turning halfway to him.
"You really want to see me naked?"
"Yes. I've pictured it. Not just it," Zack pointed. "But it is my main point of interest. Then your buttocks." Zack pointed again.
Jack was uneasy at these words. And there was a look in Zack's eyes, a dark, frightening gleam. For some reason Jack saw a Pepsis formosa stinger paralyzing a carefully chosen tarantula, a nice, plump Theraphosa blondi let's say, to be dragged off to its burrow for further unspeakable acts.
"Zack, what do you think you're going to be doing with my ass?"
"Things I've read about."
What had Zack been reading?
"You are scaring me." Jack stood up.
"I'll be gentle and considerate. I am aware of physical limitations of male anatomy, partly from my own personal experience and experimentation and also from extensive study. I wouldn't want to damage you."
Jack gaped.
"Zack, I don't know if I want to laugh or run away."
"I notice that you didn't mention stripping among your options. I can't do any of the things I am planning if you are clothed."
"I'm supposed to be seducing you," Jack reminded him, though it seemed to him things had gone way beyond that.
"You are very slow at it."
"Want some Cheetos?"
"No."
Jack went to the kitchen anyway after warning Zack not to follow him. God knows what ideas he would get in there. Jack poured himself a glass of water, then pored it out deciding on a shot of something else. After grabbing the first bottle at hand, he skipped the glass. Like a good host, he briefly considered offering some to Zack. Drunk Zack. The thought made him shudder. He capped the bottle, realizing that drunk Jack was also a bad idea. The last thing he wanted was to be at Zack's mercy. Hit by the realization that he was cowering in his own kitchen, Jack stared at his distorted reflection in the microwave door. What was wrong with this picture? This was his house, he was king here. That sneaky bastard infiltrated the place, and now Jack had to make up for lost ground. If this was a competition - and it was - so far Zack was winning. Oh, no. Not on Jack's home turf. He may have gone into the kitchen as a man in need of courage, but he strode out as a man of decision, a man of power. He was taking charge.
"Zack, let me explain something to you..."
A good way for Jack to guarantee himself a headache was to try and explain a piece of human psychology to Zack. The best part was that Jack didn't understand it himself and was just throwing out cliches for the hell of it. Or maybe it wasn't hard to understand. Fear is pretty straightforward. Jack decided to go for a more exotic explanation for why things just couldn't work out for him and Zack.
"So you only want me when I am not interested," Zack summed up.
"Zack, I'm a man. I'm a hunter. I don't want my pray coming after me." Jack pictures himself as a spear wielding, fir bedecked, prehistoric hunter. That's right, he was a hunter. Oh, this was good stuff, primal and manly. And he was in need of a big dose manly right now.
"I'm not pray," Zack bleated.
"It's how I operate. " Jack did his best to put a little danger into his voice.
Zack turned his back.
"Ok, I'm ignoring you. Go ahead. You can pounce on me."
Jack pictured taking him down like a leggy gazelle at a watering hole. Zack was scratching his ear.
"You call that a challenge. At least put up your horns." Maybe a hunting analogy wasn't for Zack. "Let's say that it's like an easy algorithm, where's the fun? "
Zack turned to face him.
"I see. In this scenario you are too smart and I am too simple?
"The first part, definitely." The second part too but he decided not to insult Zack to his face. And immediately regretted it.
"I am smarter than you," Zack said.
"Don't start pulling out the IQ test. Let's confine this discussion to matters bellow the belt."
"I'd like to do things that involve above the belt areas as well as below the belt and above the belt areas in combination."
"Really? You want the combination?"
Zack nodded.
"Ok. Let's do it!" Jack kicked off his shoes. Words weren't going to win this. If it was going to take action to get the job done, then Jack was a man of action. Jack took off his belt.
"Not the IQ test the other thing, right? Because I will win the IQ test," Zack asked stupidly.
Why would he need to take off his shoes and belt for an IQ test? Instead of asking, Hodgins grabbed Zack and gave him a good, deep kiss. He pulled back a little out of breath leaving Zack a little stunned.
"OK. That's better. Conversation over. Good." Jack was a little stunned himself. The physical reality of this thing was kicking in and he was reeling. This was it. Zack didn't wait for him to get his head together if that was even possible. He moved in for another kiss. Now on the receiving end, Jack found himself comparing their techniques.
"I kiss better," he said when they stopped for air.
"That is a completely baseless assertion since you could never be on the receiving end of your own kiss," Zack countered.
"Are you going to argue with me about everything?"
"If you keep making unfounded claims."
They kissed again this time slower and somewhere along the way Jack even stopped showing off. Instead, he became aware of his arms around Zack and Zack's around him, crushing them against each other. He was aware of their bodies grinding together, the friction of their clothes, their zippers. The wet slide of their mouths would stop for the occasional breath. Feeling the change in Zack's body and wanting Zack to feel him, still somewhere in the back of Jack's mind he wanted to impress him. Jack stopped. Zack looked bewildered, wide eyed, gripping his shirt so he couldn't move away. Jack reached down to his fly and unzipped himself.
Zack looked at what was offered to him with an expression Jack hoped was admiration.
"I like it," Zack announced.
"Glad to hear that because you are about to get well acquainted with it," Jack said surprised with the hoarseness in his voice. He put his hand on Zack's neck. "Get down," he told him.
Zack looked a little shocked as he kneeled. He also looked like he didn't know where to start. Jack expected he would need to give a few instructions. Then Zack started licking and Jack's instructions were just a continuous "mmmm".
"I think you should sit down," Zack advised. Jack briefly wondered how many points he lost for not being able to stay on his feet. He knew he already lost some for the complaining moan when Zack took his mouth off him.
Jack sat. Zack pulled Jack's pants down to his ankles to make room for himself between his knees. Jack pushed back Zack's hair to see that he had a very serious look on his face, like a man determined to win an all you can eat contest on his first try.
"Zack, don't get too ambitious."
Zak looked up.
"I think this is an important skill."
Sure, like removing every last speck of flesh from a bone, Jack thought but he was afraid if he said it out loud Zack would launch into a discussion of actual methods. With his pants down and Zack's lips back on the job, Jack was not in the mood for that. He briefly felt the entrance to Zack's throat. He gasped.
"Stay in the shallow end. Don't want you to drown."
"I can swim."
"What does that mean?" Zack didn't answer he went back to using his tongue. As Jack's brain was swimming, liquefying with pleasure, Jack vaguely wondered if what he was feeling was talent or experience or something else, something uniquely Zack.
to be continued