[Note: there are some timing things I'm making up as I go along that might not line up, that'll get fixed if/when I ever finish this and clean it up for proper posting]
Marcus shrugs and tucks his hands in his pockets.
"*Why* are you still here? That is, why did you follow me outside? 've you got an overdeveloped sense of schadenfreude?" When Marcus doesn't answer, he says, "Schadenfreude. That means--"
"I know what schadenfreude means. I'm not stupid just because I'm a jock any more than you're gay just because you're a ballet dancer."
"Touche," Esca says. Then, after a moment, he adds, "That means--"
Marcus gives his shoulder a playful shove and he smiles. Marcus smiles back. "I don't know. You looked upset and I thought you could use someone to... I don't know. I'm a little drunk, and it's getting annoying in there."
"And apparently, you're the self-appointed white knight of this party, protecting any and all slags from their wicked, jealous boyfriends."
He can't help enjoying the things Esca's accent does with the words. "Slag," he imitates. Then he says, "You're not wicked. Just upset. Guys can do stupid shit when they're upset. It's better for everybody if someone stops them before it does to far. 'S just the right thing to do."
"I'm not upset."
"Oh really."
"I should say," Esca says, finishing his cigarette and starting a new one on the end of it. After wiping a little more loose tobacco from his lip, he says, "I'm not surprised. I told her, stupidly, that if she ever pulled this again, I was leaving her."
"Why stupid? That makes sense."
"Stupid because now I've got nowhere to stay, and I'll probably have to drop out of university. But I'm a man of my word." Esca rolls his head, stretching his neck, then laughs. "I should've at least kept the keys, so I could get my shit out of her apartment. Or at least slept there tonight so I can be well rested when I look for a bridge to live under tomorrow." He says the last bit to himself.
"You need somewhere to crash?"
Esca looks up. "Why, you know somewhere?"
"My place."
Esca eyes him dubiously. "This part of your plan to get me back to your frat lair and take advantage of me?"
"What? No! I'd never--"
"Relax. I'm kidding. Besides, I'm not exactly your type."
Still sullen, Marcus says, "What do you know about my type?"
Esca raises an eyebrow. "Touche. That means--"
Marcus gives his shoulder another shove, but he laughs while he does it.
Marcus is still too drunk to trust himself behind the wheel, so he gives the keys to Esca. "Give it half an hour," Esca says. "And I'll be good to drive." They sit in Marcus's housemate's car with the heater on and the radio playing some soft top 40. Marcus dozes almost immediately and wakes up to find Esca watching him.
"Mmph. What're you looking at?"
"Nothing," Esca says quickly. "I need directions."
Marcus taps the GPS box on the dash, programs in his house, then curls up again best he can in the seat and promptly falls back asleep. Then they're pulling in the long driveway and around the back, and Esca's undoing his buckle. "C'mon big guy, let's get you to bed."
"M'fine here."
"Yes, well, you offered me a bed, not a front seat. If I'd wanted to sleep in a car, I could have broken in to one."
"Really?" Marcus yawns as he spills out of the car and takes a tumble onto his hands and knees. He shouldn't have chugged that last cup of punch before he chased Esca outside, it's hitting him hard now. He should've paid closer attention to the bottles of Everclear on the counter.
"Product of my misspent youth," Esca says as he gets an arm under Marcus's and tugs at him.
"Really?"
"No, not really."
"Heh." Marcus lets Esca march him into the house, and when prompted, he points the way to his bedroom, which has an extra bed in it since the second of the aforementioned drunk driving suspensions. His roommate was only suspended from the team, not school, but his parents had sent him to rehab, so for the last month or so, Marcus'd had the room to himself. Esca hauls his legs up onto the bed when Marcus tries falling asleep with his feet still on the floor, and then he starts unlacing his boots.
"It's good, leave 'em."
"I'm not letting you sleep in your boots," Esca says firmly. After he wrestles them off, he gets Marcus's sweater off, working efficiently.
"Now who's taking advantage," Marcus murmurs when Esca starts unbuttoning his jeans.
"You've got mud all over your knees, I'm not letting you dirty up the nice sheets."
"Mmm, kidding. Ah! Cold hands, cold hands." After the jeans hit the floor, Esca grabs a throw from the foot of the bed and spreads it over Marcus. "Besides," Marcus says, "I'm not your type."
"That, and you'd probably beat the shit out of me if I touched your prick."
Several stupid come ons pop into Marcus's brain, but thank god, none of them actually make it to his tongue. Instead, he says, "Marcus Aquilla is nobody's rebound."
Esca just pats his chest, then his warm presence disappears from Marcus's side. "Night, football guy," he says quietly as he gets into the other bed.
Marcus wakes to the smell of pancakes and crawls out of bed in search of the source. In the kitchen, Esca's at the stove, barefoot, in his jeans and a sleeveless undershirt. But what catches Marcus's attention - aside from the arms that Esca's been hiding beneath long sleeved shirts during class - is the fact that their usually biohazard-level disaster area of a kitchen is clean. Drip drying dishes piled on a towel on one half of the table, counters wiped down, sink full of sudsy water and more dishesand from god knows where, Esca has rustled up enough ingredients to make pancakes. "Oh, hey," Esca says over his shoulder. "Morning."
"Wow," Marcus says, rubbing his eyes.
"I figured it was the least I could do, seeing as how generous you were with your hospitality."
"I hope you didn't use the milk in the fridge for those."
"Considering it was a solid and not a liquid, no, I popped round to the store up the street and got a few staples. The Bisquick was expired, but not by much."
The kitchen isn't exactly spotless, but it's cleaner than he can remember seeing it since he moved in. "You didn't have to do all this."
Esca shrugs and slides a few more pancakes onto the stack on a plate. "No trouble at all. Here." He sets a plate at the table then pours a couple glasses of milk and hands one to Marcus.
Marcus clinks their glasses and drinks, then sits and starts in on the pancakes. When he's halfway through, he looks up to find Esca pulling on his sweater from the night before. "You going somewhere?"
"I've got to go pick up my car, clear my things out of her place and figure out my next move. Thanks for the place to crash."
"Whoa, hold up," Marcus says, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. "You got somewhere to stay?"
"I'll figure something out. Maybe," his shoulders sink, "I don't know. Maybe I'll swallow my pride and see if she'll take me back. I don't know."
"Don't do that."
"My work study job barely covers gas and food on good days. Scholarship covers tuition, but I haven't got a lot of options. I put all my savings into getting a car because she had the apartment covered, and now..."
"We've got a bed here," Marcus says. "All it's doing is holding up my laundry since Carl left."
Esca sticks his hands in his pockets. "I can't pay you rent."
Marcus waves a hand at him. "I was already planning on covering Carl's half of the room for the rest of the semester."
"I can't take your charity," Esca says, more firmly, and it doesn't sound like it's negotiable.
"But you could take hers?"
"That's different. We were sleeping together. You saying I could pay you back in trade?"
Marcus - like the idiot that he is - feels his face heat up when he catches on to exactly what Esca means. But he covers by waggling his eyebrows and saying, "You said it, not me."
"Tempting," Esca says dryly, "But I'll pass." Then his expression softens. "Seriously, though, I appreciate the offer, but I've got a... a certain code that I live by. I'll not be beholden to any man. I can't abide it. I don't expect you to understand. So thank you, and consider the light housekeeping my payment for last night's hospitality."
As Esca turns and heads for the door, Marcus's heart races. He feels like he's going to throw up and sure, part of that's probably the hangover, but it's also the fact that he really, really doesn't want to see Esca go. It makes no sense, because it's not like Marcus hasn't dealt with crushes before. He doesn't even really know this guy, but something fierce and deep in his gut is telling him a) avoid everclear punch at all costs but more importantly b) do not let this guy walk out the door.
Then, all at once, it hits him. "Wait. I've got a proposition."
Esca pauses. He's balancing on one leg, in the process of tugging one of his sneakers onto a sockless foot. "I thought we covered that already."
"Yeah, thanks, I don't really need your half-hearted blowjobs."
"Who says they'd be half-hearted?"
Marcus fights down that lovely mental image. "I do just fine in the getting laid department, believe or not. What I do need help with Is housework. We've tried making a schedule, but it never sticks. You're obviously good at it. What if you took care of the cleaning and I don't know, maybe the laundry, and we call it even."
Esca lowers his foot to the floor and gives Marcus a slow, appraising look. "You're bloody serious, aren't you?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You don't know the first thing about me, and you're inviting me into your home. Into your room."
Marcus shrugs. "You seem all right. You need a place to stay. We could use some help around the place. What've you got to lose?"
Esca crosses his arms. "What's the catch?"
Marcus shakes his head and sits back down at the table, cuts off a forkful of delicious fluffy goodness and stuffs it in his mouth. "No catch," he says, after washing it down with some milk. "I like you and I wanna help you. Take it or leave it, I don't mind. Or go check out your other options, the offer stands." He's proud of how nonchalant he sounds, considering that thing in his gut is whispering, 'make him stay, keep him close, get to know him.'
"Hmm," Esca says, jamming his foot into his other shoe. He balances on one foot again as he ties his shoe, then he scratches at his neck. He's unreadable when he says, "Thanks for the offer. I'll see you class."
"I guess so," Marcus says, holding the disappointment out of his voice the best he can. Then he's watching the door swing closed behind Esca. He drops his fork on his plate and leans back from the table. The pancakes have turned to lead in his stomach, and he feels stupid for -- well, he's not even sure what. It's probably better this way. He doesn't need the distraction of some gorgeous, prickly, straight guy in the bed across from him, He doesn't need a constant reminder of this pointless crush that's come out of nowhere and hit him like nothing he's felt since junior year of high school, when the captain of his wresting team left him tongue tied and unable to think straight.
Hah, think straight, he says to himself as he sets his plate on the counter and heads back upstairs. He can't even really blame the boy - he had no way of knowing that for Marcus it wasn't an experiment. It wasn't just something to pass the time in the back of the bus on long night time drives back from competitions. He had no way of knowing that when he headed off to college and never even bothered to return Marcus's emails, let alone call when he came back to town that he was breaking Marcus's stupid heart - even as Marcus tried to tell himself that it meant nothing.
No, Marcus is smarter than that now. He nips that shit in bud, and the fact that Esca is the opposite of his type - fair instead of dark, shorter and slender instead of Marcus's size or bigger, aloof instead of the kind of easy going dude that usually catches Marcus's eye. - all that probably contributed to this thing slipping under his skin without warning. Marcus noticed the guy was attractive, sure, but this ... whatever this feeling was, it was different. But, he figures as he starts stripping for the shower, ultimately just as pointless as fooling around with Rodrigo back in high school.
It's not even hard, once he's in the shower, to put Esca out of his mind. He gets his washing out of the way, then twists the shower head to pulse mode and stands under the pounding heat until his shoulders start to loosen up. His thoughts drift to the girls in the latest update on CumGirls.com. A pair of petite blondes, one with big tits, the other nearly flat chested with these sweet, super pointy little nipples, sharing the guy's cock and giggling so much, they were probably high when they shot the video. But they were obviously having a great time, not even faking it.
He grabs a squirt of someone's conditioner and takes his cock in hand, stroking it hard as he thinks about the way the flat-chested one licked the other one's pussy, how wet it got, how she's squirmed and giggled some more when the licking moved to her tight, little pucker. He strokes faster as he imagines getting down beside her, taking over the task of licking and sucking and tongue-fucking her asshole open, imagines the first girl jacking him till he's hard as a rock. Then, he pictures her still going to town on the guy in the video, a sloppy, enthusiastic, throat-fucking as Marcus lines up the head of his cock with her ass, just wet and opened up enough that he knows he'll slide right in.
He gets closer as he imagines teasing her, sliding his cock up underneath those pretty pussy lips, dragging it up the wet slit and over her clit until her back arches and she's moaning for him to just do it. And then. Then the scene shifts. He's still got his cock up between smooth thighs, still teasing open that pucker with his thumb, but the back is more angles than curves. The hair still blond but shorter, and rubbing along the top of his cock is another one, rigid and hot, and the base of his cock presses up against a full, heavy, fuzzy pair of balls.
"Fuckin' do it," Esca says in that thick accent, and Marcus imagines flipping him to his back, bending him in half and squeezing the head of his cock inside that tight, tight ring of muscle, watching as Esca throws his head back, offering up that long, gorgeous arc of neck. Marcus leans down and drags his teeth along it, sucking hard at the the spot where neck meet shoulder, thrusting in, in, then those last few inches till he's buried balls deep and Esca is rutting and writhing against him, begging incoherently for more, deeper. But Marcus just holds him there, pinned, feeling him struggle not to get free, but to get closer. "Come in me," Esca begs, and it slams into him like linebacker, knocking the breath from his lungs as he shoots and shoots and shoots in his fist.
Well fuck, he thinks as he flings the mess to the tub then rinses off his hand. Not the best idea, but not exactly a surprise either. He rolls his head, cracking his neck, and stays under the water for a few minutes longer, enjoying the post orgasm buzz and the looseness of his muscles. It's not the first time Esca's invaded his jack off sessions, and it probably won't be the last. This thing will pass, like they all do, and he'll find himself a girlfriend and fill up his spank bank with recent memories, not pointless theoretical fucking. This thing he's got for Esca may feel different, but it isn't. It's just a novelty, that's all. That and the fact that he hasn't gotten laid since he was home this summer. And that, at least, he can do something about.
After rinsing and turning off the shower, he slings his towel around his shoulders and opens the bathroom door, ready to drip dry as he heads back to his room. He's expecting to maybe take a nap for a few more hours, and if he feels up to it later, maybe finish the dishes. He is not expecting to find Esca in the hallway, leaning back against the opposite wall with his arms crossed and a wry smile twisting his lips.
"I've decided I'm being foolish," Esca says.
"Hey! Hi, um," Marcus scrambles to wrap the towel around his hips.
"Hi," Esca says, smile growing wider. "Your offer still stand?"
"Sure. Of course."
"And you don't have to run it by your housemates?"
"They won't care. As long as you don't take a crap in someone else's bed when you're pissed."
"Can't say that I do."
"And, um," he slides past and heads toward his room, nodding for Esca to follow, "We're not that good about quiet hours, so if you need--"
"I've got headphones. And the library."
"I mean," Marcus digs through the pile of unfolded laundry in front of his dresser, then drops his towel and tugs on a pair of sweats before turning back to Esca, "We can try it for a month, and we'll reassess then."
"Sounds fair."
"You mind if I ask what changed your mind?"
"I live two blocks from here. She'd already packed all my crap into my car and left my keys on the front seat. I figured, why not do this the easy way?"
"The easy way. Right." Marcus can't help it, Esca's smile is infectious and he grins back. "Well then, welcome aboard, roomie." He holds out his hand.
Esca shakes it firmly, then his expression turns serious. "Thank you."
"No prob." Marcus tries to let go.
But Esca doesn't release his hand. Instead, he gives it another squeeze and says, "Really. Thank you." After a few more moments of Esca searching his eyes for God knows what, he releases Marcus and says, "I'll just go grab my stuff."
And that's how they became roommates. Marcus would like to say he didn't know what he was getting into that afternoon, but the truth is, as he sat heavily on his bed and listened to Esca trotting down the stairs, he had a pretty good idea that he was getting in over his head.
Marcus shrugs and tucks his hands in his pockets.
"*Why* are you still here? That is, why did you follow me outside? 've you got an overdeveloped sense of schadenfreude?" When Marcus doesn't answer, he says, "Schadenfreude. That means--"
"I know what schadenfreude means. I'm not stupid just because I'm a jock any more than you're gay just because you're a ballet dancer."
"Touche," Esca says. Then, after a moment, he adds, "That means--"
Marcus gives his shoulder a playful shove and he smiles. Marcus smiles back. "I don't know. You looked upset and I thought you could use someone to... I don't know. I'm a little drunk, and it's getting annoying in there."
"And apparently, you're the self-appointed white knight of this party, protecting any and all slags from their wicked, jealous boyfriends."
He can't help enjoying the things Esca's accent does with the words. "Slag," he imitates. Then he says, "You're not wicked. Just upset. Guys can do stupid shit when they're upset. It's better for everybody if someone stops them before it does to far. 'S just the right thing to do."
"I'm not upset."
"Oh really."
"I should say," Esca says, finishing his cigarette and starting a new one on the end of it. After wiping a little more loose tobacco from his lip, he says, "I'm not surprised. I told her, stupidly, that if she ever pulled this again, I was leaving her."
"Why stupid? That makes sense."
"Stupid because now I've got nowhere to stay, and I'll probably have to drop out of university. But I'm a man of my word." Esca rolls his head, stretching his neck, then laughs. "I should've at least kept the keys, so I could get my shit out of her apartment. Or at least slept there tonight so I can be well rested when I look for a bridge to live under tomorrow." He says the last bit to himself.
"You need somewhere to crash?"
Esca looks up. "Why, you know somewhere?"
"My place."
Esca eyes him dubiously. "This part of your plan to get me back to your frat lair and take advantage of me?"
"What? No! I'd never--"
"Relax. I'm kidding. Besides, I'm not exactly your type."
Still sullen, Marcus says, "What do you know about my type?"
Esca raises an eyebrow. "Touche. That means--"
Marcus gives his shoulder another shove, but he laughs while he does it.
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Marcus is still too drunk to trust himself behind the wheel, so he gives the keys to Esca. "Give it half an hour," Esca says. "And I'll be good to drive." They sit in Marcus's housemate's car with the heater on and the radio playing some soft top 40. Marcus dozes almost immediately and wakes up to find Esca watching him.
"Mmph. What're you looking at?"
"Nothing," Esca says quickly. "I need directions."
Marcus taps the GPS box on the dash, programs in his house, then curls up again best he can in the seat and promptly falls back asleep. Then they're pulling in the long driveway and around the back, and Esca's undoing his buckle. "C'mon big guy, let's get you to bed."
"M'fine here."
"Yes, well, you offered me a bed, not a front seat. If I'd wanted to sleep in a car, I could have broken in to one."
"Really?" Marcus yawns as he spills out of the car and takes a tumble onto his hands and knees. He shouldn't have chugged that last cup of punch before he chased Esca outside, it's hitting him hard now. He should've paid closer attention to the bottles of Everclear on the counter.
"Product of my misspent youth," Esca says as he gets an arm under Marcus's and tugs at him.
"Really?"
"No, not really."
"Heh." Marcus lets Esca march him into the house, and when prompted, he points the way to his bedroom, which has an extra bed in it since the second of the aforementioned drunk driving suspensions. His roommate was only suspended from the team, not school, but his parents had sent him to rehab, so for the last month or so, Marcus'd had the room to himself. Esca hauls his legs up onto the bed when Marcus tries falling asleep with his feet still on the floor, and then he starts unlacing his boots.
"It's good, leave 'em."
"I'm not letting you sleep in your boots," Esca says firmly. After he wrestles them off, he gets Marcus's sweater off, working efficiently.
"Now who's taking advantage," Marcus murmurs when Esca starts unbuttoning his jeans.
"You've got mud all over your knees, I'm not letting you dirty up the nice sheets."
"Mmm, kidding. Ah! Cold hands, cold hands." After the jeans hit the floor, Esca grabs a throw from the foot of the bed and spreads it over Marcus. "Besides," Marcus says, "I'm not your type."
"That, and you'd probably beat the shit out of me if I touched your prick."
Several stupid come ons pop into Marcus's brain, but thank god, none of them actually make it to his tongue. Instead, he says, "Marcus Aquilla is nobody's rebound."
Esca just pats his chest, then his warm presence disappears from Marcus's side. "Night, football guy," he says quietly as he gets into the other bed.
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Seriously I could sit here and refresh all day!
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"Wow," Marcus says, rubbing his eyes.
"I figured it was the least I could do, seeing as how generous you were with your hospitality."
"I hope you didn't use the milk in the fridge for those."
"Considering it was a solid and not a liquid, no, I popped round to the store up the street and got a few staples. The Bisquick was expired, but not by much."
The kitchen isn't exactly spotless, but it's cleaner than he can remember seeing it since he moved in. "You didn't have to do all this."
Esca shrugs and slides a few more pancakes onto the stack on a plate. "No trouble at all. Here." He sets a plate at the table then pours a couple glasses of milk and hands one to Marcus.
Marcus clinks their glasses and drinks, then sits and starts in on the pancakes. When he's halfway through, he looks up to find Esca pulling on his sweater from the night before. "You going somewhere?"
"I've got to go pick up my car, clear my things out of her place and figure out my next move. Thanks for the place to crash."
"Whoa, hold up," Marcus says, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. "You got somewhere to stay?"
"I'll figure something out. Maybe," his shoulders sink, "I don't know. Maybe I'll swallow my pride and see if she'll take me back. I don't know."
"Don't do that."
"My work study job barely covers gas and food on good days. Scholarship covers tuition, but I haven't got a lot of options. I put all my savings into getting a car because she had the apartment covered, and now..."
"We've got a bed here," Marcus says. "All it's doing is holding up my laundry since Carl left."
Esca sticks his hands in his pockets. "I can't pay you rent."
Marcus waves a hand at him. "I was already planning on covering Carl's half of the room for the rest of the semester."
"I can't take your charity," Esca says, more firmly, and it doesn't sound like it's negotiable.
"But you could take hers?"
"That's different. We were sleeping together. You saying I could pay you back in trade?"
Marcus - like the idiot that he is - feels his face heat up when he catches on to exactly what Esca means. But he covers by waggling his eyebrows and saying, "You said it, not me."
"Tempting," Esca says dryly, "But I'll pass." Then his expression softens. "Seriously, though, I appreciate the offer, but I've got a... a certain code that I live by. I'll not be beholden to any man. I can't abide it. I don't expect you to understand. So thank you, and consider the light housekeeping my payment for last night's hospitality."
As Esca turns and heads for the door, Marcus's heart races. He feels like he's going to throw up and sure, part of that's probably the hangover, but it's also the fact that he really, really doesn't want to see Esca go. It makes no sense, because it's not like Marcus hasn't dealt with crushes before. He doesn't even really know this guy, but something fierce and deep in his gut is telling him a) avoid everclear punch at all costs but more importantly b) do not let this guy walk out the door.
Then, all at once, it hits him. "Wait. I've got a proposition."
Esca pauses. He's balancing on one leg, in the process of tugging one of his sneakers onto a sockless foot. "I thought we covered that already."
"Yeah, thanks, I don't really need your half-hearted blowjobs."
"Who says they'd be half-hearted?"
Marcus fights down that lovely mental image. "I do just fine in the getting laid department, believe or not. What I do need help with Is housework. We've tried making a schedule, but it never sticks. You're obviously good at it. What if you took care of the cleaning and I don't know, maybe the laundry, and we call it even."
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"Yeah, thanks, I don't really need your half-hearted blowjobs."
"Who says they'd be half-hearted?"
Marcus fights down that lovely mental image.
Don't fight that lovely image. Just let it come. :D
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how wonderful is this
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*
Esca lowers his foot to the floor and gives Marcus a slow, appraising look. "You're bloody serious, aren't you?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You don't know the first thing about me, and you're inviting me into your home. Into your room."
Marcus shrugs. "You seem all right. You need a place to stay. We could use some help around the place. What've you got to lose?"
Esca crosses his arms. "What's the catch?"
Marcus shakes his head and sits back down at the table, cuts off a forkful of delicious fluffy goodness and stuffs it in his mouth. "No catch," he says, after washing it down with some milk. "I like you and I wanna help you. Take it or leave it, I don't mind. Or go check out your other options, the offer stands." He's proud of how nonchalant he sounds, considering that thing in his gut is whispering, 'make him stay, keep him close, get to know him.'
"Hmm," Esca says, jamming his foot into his other shoe. He balances on one foot again as he ties his shoe, then he scratches at his neck. He's unreadable when he says, "Thanks for the offer. I'll see you class."
"I guess so," Marcus says, holding the disappointment out of his voice the best he can. Then he's watching the door swing closed behind Esca. He drops his fork on his plate and leans back from the table. The pancakes have turned to lead in his stomach, and he feels stupid for -- well, he's not even sure what. It's probably better this way. He doesn't need the distraction of some gorgeous, prickly, straight guy in the bed across from him, He doesn't need a constant reminder of this pointless crush that's come out of nowhere and hit him like nothing he's felt since junior year of high school, when the captain of his wresting team left him tongue tied and unable to think straight.
Hah, think straight, he says to himself as he sets his plate on the counter and heads back upstairs. He can't even really blame the boy - he had no way of knowing that for Marcus it wasn't an experiment. It wasn't just something to pass the time in the back of the bus on long night time drives back from competitions. He had no way of knowing that when he headed off to college and never even bothered to return Marcus's emails, let alone call when he came back to town that he was breaking Marcus's stupid heart - even as Marcus tried to tell himself that it meant nothing.
No, Marcus is smarter than that now. He nips that shit in bud, and the fact that Esca is the opposite of his type - fair instead of dark, shorter and slender instead of Marcus's size or bigger, aloof instead of the kind of easy going dude that usually catches Marcus's eye. - all that probably contributed to this thing slipping under his skin without warning. Marcus noticed the guy was attractive, sure, but this ... whatever this feeling was, it was different. But, he figures as he starts stripping for the shower, ultimately just as pointless as fooling around with Rodrigo back in high school.
It's not even hard, once he's in the shower, to put Esca out of his mind. He gets his washing out of the way, then twists the shower head to pulse mode and stands under the pounding heat until his shoulders start to loosen up. His thoughts drift to the girls in the latest update on CumGirls.com. A pair of petite blondes, one with big tits, the other nearly flat chested with these sweet, super pointy little nipples, sharing the guy's cock and giggling so much, they were probably high when they shot the video. But they were obviously having a great time, not even faking it.
He grabs a squirt of someone's conditioner and takes his cock in hand, stroking it hard as he thinks about the way the flat-chested one licked the other one's pussy, how wet it got, how she's squirmed and giggled some more when the licking moved to her tight, little pucker. He strokes faster as he imagines getting down beside her, taking over the task of licking and sucking and tongue-fucking her asshole open, imagines the first girl jacking him till he's hard as a rock. Then, he pictures her still going to town on the guy in the video, a sloppy, enthusiastic, throat-fucking as Marcus lines up the head of his cock with her ass, just wet and opened up enough that he knows he'll slide right in.
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"Fuckin' do it," Esca says in that thick accent, and Marcus imagines flipping him to his back, bending him in half and squeezing the head of his cock inside that tight, tight ring of muscle, watching as Esca throws his head back, offering up that long, gorgeous arc of neck. Marcus leans down and drags his teeth along it, sucking hard at the the spot where neck meet shoulder, thrusting in, in, then those last few inches till he's buried balls deep and Esca is rutting and writhing against him, begging incoherently for more, deeper. But Marcus just holds him there, pinned, feeling him struggle not to get free, but to get closer. "Come in me," Esca begs, and it slams into him like linebacker, knocking the breath from his lungs as he shoots and shoots and shoots in his fist.
Well fuck, he thinks as he flings the mess to the tub then rinses off his hand. Not the best idea, but not exactly a surprise either. He rolls his head, cracking his neck, and stays under the water for a few minutes longer, enjoying the post orgasm buzz and the looseness of his muscles. It's not the first time Esca's invaded his jack off sessions, and it probably won't be the last. This thing will pass, like they all do, and he'll find himself a girlfriend and fill up his spank bank with recent memories, not pointless theoretical fucking. This thing he's got for Esca may feel different, but it isn't. It's just a novelty, that's all. That and the fact that he hasn't gotten laid since he was home this summer. And that, at least, he can do something about.
After rinsing and turning off the shower, he slings his towel around his shoulders and opens the bathroom door, ready to drip dry as he heads back to his room. He's expecting to maybe take a nap for a few more hours, and if he feels up to it later, maybe finish the dishes. He is not expecting to find Esca in the hallway, leaning back against the opposite wall with his arms crossed and a wry smile twisting his lips.
"I've decided I'm being foolish," Esca says.
"Hey! Hi, um," Marcus scrambles to wrap the towel around his hips.
"Hi," Esca says, smile growing wider. "Your offer still stand?"
"Sure. Of course."
"And you don't have to run it by your housemates?"
"They won't care. As long as you don't take a crap in someone else's bed when you're pissed."
"Can't say that I do."
"And, um," he slides past and heads toward his room, nodding for Esca to follow, "We're not that good about quiet hours, so if you need--"
"I've got headphones. And the library."
"I mean," Marcus digs through the pile of unfolded laundry in front of his dresser, then drops his towel and tugs on a pair of sweats before turning back to Esca, "We can try it for a month, and we'll reassess then."
"Sounds fair."
"You mind if I ask what changed your mind?"
"I live two blocks from here. She'd already packed all my crap into my car and left my keys on the front seat. I figured, why not do this the easy way?"
"The easy way. Right." Marcus can't help it, Esca's smile is infectious and he grins back. "Well then, welcome aboard, roomie." He holds out his hand.
Esca shakes it firmly, then his expression turns serious. "Thank you."
"No prob." Marcus tries to let go.
But Esca doesn't release his hand. Instead, he gives it another squeeze and says, "Really. Thank you." After a few more moments of Esca searching his eyes for God knows what, he releases Marcus and says, "I'll just go grab my stuff."
And that's how they became roommates. Marcus would like to say he didn't know what he was getting into that afternoon, but the truth is, as he sat heavily on his bed and listened to Esca trotting down the stairs, he had a pretty good idea that he was getting in over his head.
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