Marcus seemed to be feeling more himself, his hips swaying as he pranced into the grocery store. I grabbed a cart and followed behind him. I was happy to see him pulling himself together, but it was painful watching his shields pull in tight around him. I hadn't known them for what they were previously, but after seeing him lick those sprinkles off his drink with the saddest look I'd ever seen, my suspicions were confirmed that there was another side to Marcus, one he was carefully pulling back under his snarky comments and his bright attitude.

Marcus started through the produce aisle, examining the different fruits and vegetables, which surprised me. I hadn't pictured him as the kind of guy who cared too much about raw ingredients. More a pre-made salad and smoothie guy. He reached out to choose a carrot and then turned to me with a suggestive raise of his eyebrow. "What does this look like?" He expression and tone were challenging me.

It... looked like two dicks. And I said so. Marcus cracked a huge grin. "I know, right? It's totally a diphallic carrot!"

It was my turn to raise my eyebrow. 

"Oh, don't tell me you don't know about the dude with two dicks. Please."

"Of course I know about the dude with two dicks. I've just never seen someone compare him to a carrot."

"Carrots are the most phallic vegetable in existence," Marcus claimed, holding the two-dicked carrot up to his mouth as if he was going to swallow it. 

"You put that in your mouth, you're buying it," I cautioned. 

He didn't put it in his mouth, but he tossed it in the cart. "Two dicks, too much?" He was teasing me, seeing how far he could go. Two dicks were definitely too much. I knew I didn't have any right to lay claim to Marcus, but the idea of him doing anything with more than one dick, or a dick that wasn't mine, made me rumble deep in my chest.

"What about zucchini?" I asked instead, trying to turn his game back on him. "It seems pretty phallic."

"Hmm..." Marcus picked up one of the dark green squashes. "I don't know, maybe a young zucchini, but you get too big, and you just can't get it in." He laid the zucchini down and picked up a cucumber. "I'm probably more of a cucumber man myself." He held the cucumber at the base and slid his free hand up and down it, making me nearly swallow my tongue. Damn it. He knew exactly what he was doing to me. But something crossed his face for a micro second, before he turned his smile up another watt and set the cucumber down. 

What had I see in that flash before it had disappeared? Regret? It had been there and so quickly, I couldn't say for sure. I cast my mind about for something to redirect the conversation, but Marcus beat me too it.

"Eww!" he cried, hoisting a bundle of celery. "Can you imagine a guy with a celery dick?"

A woman with a child in her cart passed behind him at that very second and shot us a dirty look. Marcus must have seen something on my face because he tossed the celery back and scurried to my side.

"It's not fair to tease a guy about his celery dick," I said quietly. "They can't help it."

Marcus snickered, ducking his head as the woman cast another glare back at us. "It's probably better than a beat dick, you wouldn't even be able to jerk that off!"

"I don't know," I said seriously. "We men are pretty ingenious at finding ways of getting off."

The tips of Marcus's ears were turning pink. Was he... embarrassed? Surely not. As good as he was giving? But this is a mask, I reminded myself. Was humor yet one more way Marcus hid himself from the world? Taking another glance at the pink tips of his ears, I was certain it was.

"So what do you need?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well, I need a lot of things..." Marcus said, looking up at me suggestively. 

Even though I realized now that it was a mask, that he didn't really mean it, my dick didn't really care. It had been half hard all throughout him caressing the produce suggestively, and now with him at my side, looking up at me with fuck me eyes, my dick was answering with a hell yes.

Instead of listening to my dick, I bumped Marcus with my shoulder. "I meant what do you need in the store?"

"Well, I don't think management would like it, but we certainly could..." he trailed off with a grin at my rolling eyes, and then bounced away to grab a bag of potatoes and a bag of onions. "I usually just circle the outside. Produce and meat. Lots of meat."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I'd known that spending time with Marcus was going to be trying on my sadly neglected libido, but I hadn't expected it to be this trying, with every other sentence a full on innuendo. Realizing that anything I said would just encourage him to take it farther, I fell silent, letting him talk circles around me while I pushed the cart. Occasionally, he'd dart out and grab something to add to the cart, and then he'd be back. I appreciated that he seemed as comfortable with my silence as with my banter. And I was surprised I enjoyed listening to him talk. It was like watching a bird as he physically flit from one thing to the next and verbally from one topic to another. One minute he was ranting about the unethical conditions of chickens raised in traditional meat farms and the next he was cooing about the cute spring package design on his favorite cream cheese. He had an opinion on everything, and I loved it. He stood at the front of the cart and piled his choices on, but when it came time to pay, I gently elbowed him out of the way and slid my card.

"That's not—I can—"

I'd never really heard Marcus at a loss for words. But I wanted to pay for his groceries. I wanted to take care of him. I wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and bring him hot chocolate and snuggle in next to him and make him forget about whatever worries plagued him.

"I got this," was all I said, and he settled into a grumpy silence, which was less than ideal.

"So what are you planning on making?" I asked as I pushed the cart out to my car.

"Moroccan Chicken Stew," he said, his body unfolding, slowly letting go of his frustration with me. That was good. Marcus wasn't built for negative emotions. He was a creature of happiness and new beginnings. He should always be happy.

"That sounds interesting."

"It's my comfort food," he admitted. "It's warm and comforting, but zingy, and spicy. It just makes your mouth happy, and then your stomach, and then all the happiness spreads out into your bones."

I wasn't going to say it, but it sounded kind of like a blowjob followed by an orgasm to me. And I may not have said it, but my face must have been saying something for me, because one look at me, and Marcus burst into a laugh. 

"I'm serious," he said. "You should try it sometime."

"I'd like to," I said, waiting, hoping. I unloaded the groceries into my tiny trunk and then we climbed in my car, but the invitation I was waiting for was not forthcoming.