Mark lies underneath Jackson, squirming, on the bed. With each dig of the younger's fingers Mark writhes even more.

"Ah, Jackson!" Mark cries aloud, back arching into a graceful curve that resembles that of a cat's. His face is red, cheeks flushed like freshly bloomed flowers on a warm spring day. His voice is caught in his throat and he can't breathe but he's never felt more alive. "No! No more! Please!"

Heedless to Mark's desperate pleas, Jackson digs his fingers deeper. Jackson hits all the sensitive spots inside the elder and Mark throws his head back against the pillow, overwhelmed by the sensations bombarding his mind and senses.

"S-stop! Jackson, no!" Mark beseeches, hands flying to and tugging at the younger's wrists that simply wouldn't budge as Jackson continues his teasing. "I- I won't be able to take this much longer!"

"Then say it, say those words. Beg for it." Jackson grins triumphantly, knowing he's already won.

Mark's pride snaps in a second. "You're the best at tickling," He consents. "I'm sorry for doubting you and I won't ever challenge you again but please stop now. I can't breathe and I think I'm going to die."