"Let's play some music to set the mood." Jackson suggests and scrambles over to the speakers on the nightstand. He plugs in his iPod and scrolls through his playlists at lightning speed before settling on one song. He clicks on it and next thing Mark knows, the sounds of Flo Rida's Whistle emanates through the bedroom.

"Very appropriate choice, Jackson," Mark praises and Jackson throws his head back in a laugh. Mark chuckles and begins singing along. "You just put your lips around me and you go real slow. Can you blow my whistle baby, whistle baby~"

"I know, right?" Jackson climbs back on the bed and sits straddling Mark's lap, legs spread on either side of the elder's thighs. "Ready?"

Their gazes meet for a split second and are instinctively drawn towards each other. Both start leaning in, slowing to a stop when their lips are a hair's breath apart. Jackson goes in for the kill.

The younger wraps his plush lips around the shaft gives a strong blow, powered by his diaphragm. The resulting sound is sharp and bright, like chirping birds on a warm spring day. He pulls away with a grin. "See, just like that?"

Mark pouts and snatches the whistle away, glaring at the object as though it offends. "Not fair, I'm terrible at this." He puts it between his lips and does just as he's seen jackson do, but the sound produced is flat and lacks lustre. "Stupid whistle."