Chapter Twenty-Two: "Getting To Know You"

                                    

                                          
Jack watched Mark walk back into the kitchen, removing the bloody spoon from the bowl to set aside in the sink.  Removing another wooden spoon from a wall rack, he set to work stirring.  Biting his lip, Jack cleared his throat and asked him timidly.  "Where did you learn to stitch people up?"  Mark flashed him a brief smile over his shoulder, before answering honestly.  "I work with a lot of sharp tools. I've had my accidents. Instead of rushing to the doctor all the time... I just learned how to deal with it myself. I wanted to be more self-reliant. I didn't want... my secret getting out."  Taking a seat at the small kitchen table, Jack mumbled out to his back.  "I'm sorry about what I said... It's not your fault that I'm... different."  Mark stopped stirring the dough to let it sit, then grabbed a dish towel.  Walking up to him, Mark tapped the dish towel under Jack's chin to get him to look up at him.  When their eyes met, Mark told him warmly.  "You don't have to apologize to me. Some of it was my fault. The rest of it... I've gone through it. So, I know how it feels."  Handing off the towel to him, Mark leaned closer to whisper into his ear.  "Between us. Don't resist being different. It just hurts more. Find a neutral ground to stand in."  Sitting up, Mark patted his shoulder and told him nicely.  "Put snow in the towel and ice your hand. It will help stop the bleeding."  
Getting to his feet, Jack started to walk away, but stopped to state over his shoulder a bit teasingly.  "You never told me that you can cook."  Mark checked on the soup, chuckling out without looking at him.  "Depends on what you call cooking. I can cook on an open flame... but that's about it. And I wouldn't get too excited... You don't know if what I'm making is edible."  Jack snorted, starting to smile but it faded at the thought of his food being awful.  Slipping outside, he made his way down the porch to collect large pieces of ice into the towel from the frozen rain barrel.  While collecting the pieces as quickly as he could to get back before he froze, he noticed Geralf's guard was sitting in a neighbor's rocking chair, and pretending that he wasn't watching him.  Waving to the man, Jack headed back inside.  After being outside, the rich smell of food from inside hit him hard.  It smelled so good and welcoming.  Pressing the towel to his palm, he leaned back against the front door and just watched Mark work.  He was kneading the dough on the counter gently to keep the berries from being crushed.  It brought a smile to Jack's face because he could tell Mark was straining to keep from beating the dough with the power that he clearly wanted to put into it.  
Mark must have heard his tiny whisper of a giggle, because he suddenly told him in a deep tone.  "I can hear you laughing over there. What's so funny?"  Pushing off the door, Jack locked it and made his way over to him.  Reaching out with his good hand to touch Mark's wrist, he stopped him.  Keeping his voice level and amused, he told him with a smile.  "You're too tense. Loosen up or you'll make the dough too thick. You want it light and fluffy."  Mark rolled his eyes, grumbling out lightly.  "This is me being loose."  Jack chuckled, swatting Mark's tense bicep as he shot back.  "Ya? Well, you're not loose enough. You're making bread. Not manhandling blocks of wood."  Mark chuckled, blushing out with a shrug as he turned his hands over and admitted guiltily.  "I am used to handling things that need a firmer grip."  Jack bit his lower lip hard trying not to make this sexual but his mind kept drifting.  Standing so close to Mark was messing with his vulnerable emotions.  Placing his hand on Mark's palm, Jack felt the rough callouses on his hand with his fingertips.  Mark's fingers spread and moved away from his fingers to let him explore his palm, before very slowly curling them like he wanted to touch him.  
Yet, his fingers barely touched his.  Stepping a bit closer to Mark's side, he whispered to him a little teasingly.  "You don't seem so rough when you're touching me."  Mark turned his head to look at him over his shoulder, his long dark bangs shrouding his soft brown eyes from clear view.  Mark's breathing was eerily calm, making Jack's heart race in his ribs.  Jack's whole body froze up like a deer facing down a predator.  He couldn't think and he couldn't move.  Mark's lips curled into a tiny smile, before he leaned closer to Jack's face as he asked him in a deep teasing voice of his own.  "Are you suggesting that I handle the dough as if I'm handling you?"  Jack's cheeks burned with a blush that went all the way to the tips of his ears as he leaned back from Mark.  He hadn't meant it to sound like that, but now that Mark pointed it out, he was starting to panic.  Gulping, Jack parted his lips to try and correct him, but his mind was blank for what he had really meant by it.  He had no excuses.  Mark grinned devilishly, his lips drawing closer to his as he purred out so beautifully.  "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue, Jack?"  Jack leaned so far back, that he stumbled over a chair when he tried to step back.