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Marc is putting away the laundry when he sees it. It is dark red, and surprisingly soft. When he picks it up, he isn’t quite sure what it is at first until he brings it up to the light. At first he thought it was a jockstrap, but when he looks closer he can tell it is in fact, a thong. A male thong to be precise. He’s inspecting it when he feels Steven come close to the surface with him.
What have you got there mate? He asks, sounding confused.
Marc chuckles and holds it back up for him to get a better look. “You know Steven, you don’t have to act all surprised all the time. I already told you that the whole skirt thing is fine. Makes sense that you might want something more special to wear under them.” He glances at Steven in the mirror and sees his eyes go wide as he realizes what Marc is holding. “But I better not front in the middle of a fight with this giving me a wedgie. Gotta at least let me know first.”
Steven’s face flushes a bright red and sputters. “Th-That's not mine!” He tells, and Marc just gives him an unimpressed look. “I swear! I have never seen that before in my life.” He insists hastily.
“Then whos-” Marc goes to ask, but another voice cuts him off.
They’re mine. Jake says, And they are more comfortable in a fight than you think. You didn’t even notice when we had one on last week when you surprise fronted.
Marc is quiet, trying to remember when he was talking about. “That fight with the three mob guys?” He questions, turning to the fish tank to better look at Jake.
You got it. We weren’t wearing that one you’re holding, but same style.
“Huh.” Marc says, still mildly surprised he never noticed. He always thought that type of underwear would ride up and be super uncomfortable, that's why he never bothered buying any or wearing one.
But, why would you want to wear something so small? Surely it must get, you know, cold under there with such little fabric. Steven asks hesitantly, still trying to understand the reasoning behind it. Jake shrugs, crossing his arms in the tank.
Our boxers are longer than most of my miniskirts. Besides, He grins, I don’t always wear them. Sometimes commando works best.
Both Marc and Steven gap at him, and he laughs at the twin looks of shock he receives.
“Bullshit!” Marc shouts, tossing the undergarment at the fish tank. “You better not be taking the body out in your barely-long-enough-to-be-considered-clothes skirts with all our junk hanging out! Some of those things are like, six inches long and half the time our cheeks are almost handing out the back.”
Steven seems stunned into silence, silently agreeing with Marc and hoping Jake is just having a laugh.
I go out in those with usually one goal in mind, and the less I wear the quicker shit happens.