Fill 6c/? - School Days: Ties and Tattoos
anonymous
March 27 2011, 19:37:48 UTC
“There’s a track.” Esca says at last. The words are barely audible, like he’s not too sure about speaking them.
“What?”
“A running track. An unused one. It goes around by the forest. The other boys use the one closer to the playing fields. I could show you…if you want.”
Marcus isn’t sure what he wants, he doesn’t want to commit to anything to do with his leg…but Esca’s offering something that he doesn’t have to and Marcus can’t refuse that.
“Okay, show me.”
The track is rough, and slightly overgrown, but private enough if Marcus wanted to run. It curves around the trees and down by the river before returning to the school. It'll work, if he wants it to.
“Thanks.” He tells Esca, as they head back.
Esca shrugs. He seems more relaxed once they’re out of sight of the school, like he can breathe again. ‘Wonder what it’d take to make him smile?’ Marcus thinks, and he knows he’s set himself a challenge.
“So…” Marcus clears his throat.
“So what?” Esca has his hands in his pockets as he walks, a slouching comfortable gait.
“Any picture you liked in particular?”
Esca glances at him. “What?”
“In the, you know…magazines.” Marcus falters slightly, and feels like an idiot, and then Esca laughs slightly.
“Oh. No. Not really my type.”
They walk a little further.
“So why you’d take them then?” Marcus asks next.
“To see if I could.” Esca shrugs. "It's a thing..."
“Don’t you get punished?”
“Only if I get caught.” Esca glances at him warily then. “Are you going to tell?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why would I?” Marcus counters. He doesn’t blame Esca for not trusting him, but at the same time, why won’t the boy just give him a fucking break?
“Any of the others would report me.”
“Why you’d tell me then?” Marcus refrains from shouting ‘I’m not like them!’ He doesn’t think it will help.
“I don’t know.” Esca says frankly.
“Oh…”
They walk a little further…
“So,” Marcus hesitates, dares himself, then goes on, “What is your type?”
Esca looks at him and just smiles, and doesn’t answer.
Fill 7a/? - School Days: Ties and Tattoos
anonymous
March 28 2011, 04:05:46 UTC
Marcus starts running before his first class of the day. Not every morning, his leg aches too much for that. But it's more than he used run to…and that’s progress enough for the moment.
At night his leg aches and keeps him awake. He’s lonely. He could hang out in the common room with the other students, but he prefers to stay up in his room. At least he has plenty of time to study. His grades go up; his teachers are happy.
The other boys in the house seem to be cool with him, although not overly friendly, which is alright with Marcus. He’s not there for friends. He’s there to finish his education, graduate with as many honors as possible and then get the fuck out. Still, sometimes, when he’s lying in his bed alone at time, he can’t help thinking that it would be nice to have a friend.
Marcus buys two bottles of wine when he goes into the village on Friday afternoon and smuggles them into his room. He drinks the first one that evening lying on his back, listening to Dire Straits and staring moodily at the ceiling. The loneliness is worse tonight. So, in all honesty, he’s not really too put out when he get summoned to Placid’s room by the head boy’s fag, a skinny boy named Williams. He’s rather buzzed and the thought of some company is almost pleasant.
Until he enters and sees Esca standing there in the center of the room.
Fill 7b/? - School Days: Ties and Tattoos
anonymous
March 28 2011, 04:12:00 UTC
“Come in, come in.” Placid gestures him forward amiably.
Marcus closes the door. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing serious.” Placid says easily. “Just a house matter.”
“Oh.” Marcus still isn’t sure what’s going. Esca hasn’t looked up. His hands are clasped behind his back, his eyes focused on the floor.
“Marcus, Marcus, Marcus…” Placidius shakes his head. “You are not utilizing your fag’s full range of duties.” He sounds like he's chiding a kid for not doing his chores.
“How do you mean?” Marcus looks up.
“He‘s still walking straight for one thing. Trousers, down,” He barks the order at Esca, who silently undoes his trousers, pushing them down to his thighs. There‘s only a moment of hesitation before he pushes his shorts down as well.
Plaicid, walks around him, inspecting him critically. “You haven’t even marked him.” Esca clasps his hands in front of his crotch, but the older boy knocks them away. “Don’t bother covering yourself up. There’s nothing to see.”
Marcus begs to differ. Esca’s cock is of a good size. There’s light brown hair at his crotch. it looks almost soft, and he wonders what Esca’s scent is like. Marcus suppresses the urge fall to his knees and bury his face in it.
Placid grips Esca’s neck, pushing him forward so that the boy’s nose is practically touching his knees. “Look at that.”
Esca’s backside is completely delectable, two perfect rounded globes with the faintest bruises left over from that first beating Marcus had seen administered that first day. He resisted the urge to trace the lines of those bruises. He wants to squeeze Esca’s ass until it’s rosy, to feel Esca arch into his palm. Marcus swallows.
“What about it?” He manages to ask without sounding completely overcome.
“I know he’s not much to look at, but he’s perfect adequate.” Placid says.
“So?” Marcus sounds completely nonchalant. He’s pleased with this. If he can just keep his cool, maybe everything will be okay.
“Look, if you don’t want him, there’s a fellow in Seal House who’s absurdly fond of him. I can always transfer him.”
“I like him just fine.” Marcus says. “I…prefer not to leave marks.”
It’s a lie. He’d like to leave marks all over Esca’s body, making him remember Marcus every time he moves a single muscle. But it seems wrong somehow, to share that with Placid. It’s none of his business. Esca is beyond that.
“As you like.” Placid shrugs. “It just seems a waste. He bruises so prettily.” He palms one of Esca’s cheeks, squeezing slightly.
Marcus can’t see Esca’s face, but his knees are trembling slightly.
“He’s always so tight,” Placid says, sliding the tips of his fingers between Esca’s cheeks. “It’s fascinating. Would you mind if I borrowed him for the evening?”
“What about your own fag?” Marcus manages, over the sudden tightness in his chest.
“Variety, Marcus is the spice of the life.” Placid tells him.
“Well, normally, I’d say yes, Placid, but I had plans myself tonight.”
“Oh well, in that case.” Placid pats Esca’s ass almost gently. “Pull up your trousers and go up to his room.” Esca obeys silently.
Marcus stays for a whiskey, and has to hear a long monologue on which fag gives the best blowjob. Placid’s tried them all of course.
He’s slightly drunker by the time he finally manages to excuse himself and escape upstairs.
Re: Fill 7b/? - School Days: Ties and Tattooso_contraryMarch 28 2011, 06:32:49 UTC
LOL, a fair few of my family members and friends/acquaintances have gone to non-co-ed boarding schools (and some co-ed, too), so I'm reading and trying to shut my brain off from thinking thoughts that cannot be unthought. O.O LALALALALALA I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW, KTHXBAI.
Marcus is such a woobie, and in so far over his head already, and Esca is so *inscrutable.* It's a winning combination.
Re: Fill 7b/? - School Days: Ties and TattooscoeurdesoleilMarch 28 2011, 18:59:33 UTC
I am so horrified and creeped out by Placid and basically everyone in this school except for Esca and Marcus. But yay for Marcus continuing to show some moral fiber!
Fill 8a/? - School Days: Ties and Tattoos
anonymous
March 29 2011, 05:13:11 UTC
Marcus half stumbles on the threshold, catches himself, and closes the door. “Fuck,” he mutters to himself. The whiskey had hit him harder than he thought, on top of all the wine he’d drunk earlier. He’s forgotten anyone else is there until he spots the figure in the corner. Esca’s hunched over, arms wrapped around his legs, head buried in his arms.
“Esca.” Marcus whispers. He doesn’t really want to wake the boy in case he’s fallen asleep, but Esca jerks his head up immediately. He looks at Marcus steadily as he gets to his feet.
“Hey, hey,” Marcus holds up his hands. “Relax. I’m not going to touch you.”
“But you said…” Esca looks from Marcus to the door, as though gauging the amount of space between him and freedom. “That you had…plans.”
“What?” Marcus shakes his head incredulously. “I didn’t mean that. Fuck, you don’t actually think that…”
Marcus has done a lot of dubious things in his life. He stole a car when he was fourteen, just for the hell of it. He was the grass distributor for a small section of his high school during his freshman year, and he spent most of his sophomore year pleasantly stoned. He’s had sex with just about every boy that he ever liked, and didn’t regret it at all, except for the fact that his dear old dad, faraway in England, expected him to get his act together eventually and stick his dick in a pussy at some point. He’s been expelled from two schools for fighting. For the most part, he doesn’t regret anything.
But the idea that they just assume he’d fuck some kid, even a kid he desperately wants to fuck…just because he can, because they can apparently do whatever they want, makes him sick to his stomach.
“I’m not going to touch you.” He repeats, wishing there was some way he could make the words sink in.
Esca doesn’t say anything, so Marcus starts getting undressed. He kicks his boots off, half stumbling over them, then pulls his t-shirt over his head. He’s too warm, and his head is spinning a little. He really wishes he hadn’t thought about fucking. He’s half hard as he shrugs off his jeans.
“Look,” He starts to say, but stops.
Esca’s just leaning against the wall, a sardonic expression on his face.
“What?” Marcus says.
Esca nods at his swollen dick. “You don’t want to fuck me? Really?” Esca sneers skeptically. “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
There’s a rushing sound in Marcus’s ears, as anger washes over him in blinding waves. With a snarl, he grabs Esca, jerking him over towards the bed with a hard yank of his collar. Esca stumbles backward onto the bed. Marcus has him flat on his back in an instant, straddling him. He presses all his weight against the smaller boy, trapping him effectively between his thighs.
Marcus leans in until his face is mere inches away from Esca’s. To his credit the other boy doesn’t flinch. He just stares up at Marcus defiantly.
“Oh, believe me, I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so hard, I could come just thinking about it. I want to fuck you straight though this goddamn mattress.” Marcus sits back on Esca’s hips. He‘s full aware that he‘s only wearing his boxers, and he‘s hard as a fucking rock now, and Esca is warm and pliant beneath him. “But I won’t.”
Fill 8b/? - School Days: Ties and Tattoos
anonymous
March 29 2011, 05:21:41 UTC
“And why the fuck is that?” Esca snaps.
“Because it’d be wrong.” Marcus rolls off him, to lean back against the wall. His dick is straining between his legs. He ignores it. Esca pushes himself to sit back up against the headboard.
“I don’t understand you.” He says flatly.
“Yeah, well, sometimes I don’t understand me, either.“ Marcus says. “Now, do you want the bed or the floor?”
“Are you shitting me?”
“You have to stay up here.” Marcus informs him wearily. “Placid-the-douchebag already believes I’m fucking your ass for the night, so yeah…stay.” He waves his hand magnanimously.
“Okay then.” Esca scoots off the bed.
“You don’t want the bed?” Marcus raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t you need it?” Esca pulls off his blazer, hanging it on Marcus’s chair.
“Why?”
Esca’s hand hovers at the first button on his shirt. “Your leg.”
The rage threatens Marcus again, surging up in his throat, but it’s not just anger, it’s grief and everything he’s been trying to keep buried for the past few months. “I’m not a fucking cripple.” He spits.
“I never said you were.” Esca says matter-of-factly. He undoes his buttons quickly, stripping his shirt off, and laying it over the blazer. He only hesitates a moment before removing his trousers. Now he’s clad only his undershirt and his shorts. Marcus exhales long and low, trying not to stare. His dick is pleading for attention.
“Look, I’ll sleep on the floor.” Esca says. “It’s all right.”
“Fine.” Marcus grabs one of his pillows and his blanket from the bottom of the bed and tosses them to him. “Suit yourself.”
Esca catches them awkwardly. He starts to say something, then changes his mind. Silently, he puts the pillow down on the rug in the center of the room, and curls up, pulling the blanket over him.
Marcus lies down, covering himself with his sheet. His dick is killing him. He swallows heavily.
“When did you get your tattoo?”
“What?” Esca rolls over to face him.
“Your tattoo. It’s cool.” Marcus groans inwardly. Could he possibly sound more lame?
“Oh…” Esca looks at his arm. “Thanks.”
“So when’d you get it?”
“Last year. Right…right before my dad died.” Esca goes silent.
“Ah… right.” Marcus lies there, wondering whether he should say anything more. “Sorry,” is all he can manage. He means it though.
“Yeah, me too.” Esca rolls back to face the other way.
Marcus lies awake for the next half hour, until the breathing of the other boy has become a steady even rhythm. At last Marcus gives in and sticks his hand down his shorts.
He definitely doesn’t think about the first time he saw Esa, how the boy had looked half naked in the afternoon sun…his nipples tense, his hipbones angular and inviting. The way he’d lain there in the grass, chest heaving.
Marcus jerks himself off with quick, sloppy strokes, definitely not thinking about Esca through the entire act. When he’s finished, Marcus lets his head fall back on his single pillow, sweating and spent.
In all honesty, Marcus knows he let himself think about Esca because he knows he’ll never do anything about the want aching inside of him.
Fill 9/? - School Days: Ties and Tattoos
anonymous
March 30 2011, 01:48:06 UTC
Marcus is in heaven. He’s never really thought about the prospect of paradise, but he’s fairly sure that this, wherever it is, is definitely it.
His skin is on fire. There's warmth surrounding him, sheathing his cock, hot, sucking heat, dragging wetly over his shaft...teeth grazing slowly along the tender skin...softly tonguing the slit. The heat moves slightly and there's a tongue on his balls, sucking them as Marcus moans. Then his dick is covered once more, as fingers wrap loosely around the base of his shaft, stroking him. Marcus gasps, he’s so close, it’s amazing. His cock is completely enveloped in this delicious heat, and there’s something warm pressing against his pubic hair. Taking him deeper, and deeper, until his balls tighten and he comes with a soft whimper.
Marcus opens his eyes slowly; he’s reluctant to leave this blissful dream state.
It takes him a moment to register the head that’s resting against his thigh, the eyes watching him closely. Marcus blinks, focuses…blinks again. Esca’s definitely still there between his legs, looking sleepy-eyed and his lips... Marcus focuses on his lips. They look wet and soft and…
“What’re you doing?” His voice is rough.
“If you don’t know, I must be doing it wrong.” Esca rests his folded arms on Marcus’s belly.
“But…why?’ Marcus stares at him. His cock is spent. There’s a glistening sheen at Esca’s lips. He wipes his mouth casually with the back of his hand. It definitely happened.
“Consider it a thank you.”
“You…blew…me.”
“Don’t wind yourself up about it.” Esca gets off the bed. “It was a one-time thing.”
Marcus stares at him incredulously, then the full realization hits him. “And I fucking slept through it.” He groans.
Esca shrugs. “Not my fault you’re a heavy sleeper.” He reaches for his clothes.
Marcus pushes himself up to watch as Esca dresses. He can’t fucking believe what just happened. He can't believe that Esca actually did it, nor can he believe that he slept through the whole thing.
For someone who slept on a rug and is dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Esca looks impeccable. “So,” He faces Marcus, and for a second, Marcus hopes fervently…
“Can I go?”
“Yeah.” Marcus says, trying to conceal his disappointment. Then, “No, wait.” He rolls off the bed, hastily pushing his dick back inside his shorts. Esca watches this process with amusement. Marcus comes over to him, Esca stands his ground. Marcus kneels and reaches for his trousers.
“This is sweet, but you don’t have to reciprocate.” Esca says dryly.
“Shut up.” Marcus flushes. He’d like nothing more than to pull Esca’s trousers down and show him exactly how good of a blow-job Marcus actually gives, but he refrains. Instead, he pushes the hem of Esca’s shirt up and tugs his trousers down so that Esca’s hipbone is revealed. He takes a deep breath and leans in. Setting his teeth to the skin, softly at first, then he presses harder.
There’s a harsh intake of breath from above him, and Esca grips his hair, not hard, but tightly. Marcus sucks at Esca’s skin until he knows he’s done a good job. And then he pulls off. Esca slowly releases his grip, and looks down at him.
“There.” Marcus leans back on his heels. He presses a thumb to the mark now evident and nods in satisfaction. “If anyone asks…”
Esca looks at his hip. There, bright against his skin is a vivid red mark. He can see where Marcus‘s teeth held him, the indent of his ownership. “Okay then.” Esca clears his throat. “Right.” He goes.
And Marcus can’t be sure, but he’s almost certain that Esca is hard as he brushes past him. Not that it matters anyway, because he’s still gone, closing the door behind him. Marcus stands, wincing as he remembers his leg for the first time that morning.
Esca ignores him the rest of the day and Marcus almost begins to wonder if he imagined the whole thing. But whenever he pictures the mark on Esca’s hip, he can’t help smiling.
“What?”
“A running track. An unused one. It goes around by the forest. The other boys use the one closer to the playing fields. I could show you…if you want.”
Marcus isn’t sure what he wants, he doesn’t want to commit to anything to do with his leg…but Esca’s offering something that he doesn’t have to and Marcus can’t refuse that.
“Okay, show me.”
The track is rough, and slightly overgrown, but private enough if Marcus wanted to run. It curves around the trees and down by the river before returning to the school. It'll work, if he wants it to.
“Thanks.” He tells Esca, as they head back.
Esca shrugs. He seems more relaxed once they’re out of sight of the school, like he can breathe again. ‘Wonder what it’d take to make him smile?’ Marcus thinks, and he knows he’s set himself a challenge.
“So…” Marcus clears his throat.
“So what?” Esca has his hands in his pockets as he walks, a slouching comfortable gait.
“Any picture you liked in particular?”
Esca glances at him. “What?”
“In the, you know…magazines.” Marcus falters slightly, and feels like an idiot, and then Esca laughs slightly.
“Oh. No. Not really my type.”
They walk a little further.
“So why you’d take them then?” Marcus asks next.
“To see if I could.” Esca shrugs. "It's a thing..."
“Don’t you get punished?”
“Only if I get caught.” Esca glances at him warily then. “Are you going to tell?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why would I?” Marcus counters. He doesn’t blame Esca for not trusting him, but at the same time, why won’t the boy just give him a fucking break?
“Any of the others would report me.”
“Why you’d tell me then?” Marcus refrains from shouting ‘I’m not like them!’ He doesn’t think it will help.
“I don’t know.” Esca says frankly.
“Oh…”
They walk a little further…
“So,” Marcus hesitates, dares himself, then goes on, “What is your type?”
Esca looks at him and just smiles, and doesn’t answer.
Marcus wins and he loses.
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Esca still is understandably wary but I do believe he is starting to warm up to Marcus, yay!
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At night his leg aches and keeps him awake. He’s lonely. He could hang out in the common room with the other students, but he prefers to stay up in his room. At least he has plenty of time to study. His grades go up; his teachers are happy.
The other boys in the house seem to be cool with him, although not overly friendly, which is alright with Marcus. He’s not there for friends. He’s there to finish his education, graduate with as many honors as possible and then get the fuck out. Still, sometimes, when he’s lying in his bed alone at time, he can’t help thinking that it would be nice to have a friend.
Marcus buys two bottles of wine when he goes into the village on Friday afternoon and smuggles them into his room. He drinks the first one that evening lying on his back, listening to Dire Straits and staring moodily at the ceiling. The loneliness is worse tonight. So, in all honesty, he’s not really too put out when he get summoned to Placid’s room by the head boy’s fag, a skinny boy named Williams. He’s rather buzzed and the thought of some company is almost pleasant.
Until he enters and sees Esca standing there in the center of the room.
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Marcus closes the door. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing serious.” Placid says easily. “Just a house matter.”
“Oh.” Marcus still isn’t sure what’s going. Esca hasn’t looked up. His hands are clasped behind his back, his eyes focused on the floor.
“Marcus, Marcus, Marcus…” Placidius shakes his head. “You are not utilizing your fag’s full range of duties.” He sounds like he's chiding a kid for not doing his chores.
“How do you mean?” Marcus looks up.
“He‘s still walking straight for one thing. Trousers, down,” He barks the order at Esca, who silently undoes his trousers, pushing them down to his thighs. There‘s only a moment of hesitation before he pushes his shorts down as well.
Plaicid, walks around him, inspecting him critically. “You haven’t even marked him.” Esca clasps his hands in front of his crotch, but the older boy knocks them away. “Don’t bother covering yourself up. There’s nothing to see.”
Marcus begs to differ. Esca’s cock is of a good size. There’s light brown hair at his crotch. it looks almost soft, and he wonders what Esca’s scent is like. Marcus suppresses the urge fall to his knees and bury his face in it.
Placid grips Esca’s neck, pushing him forward so that the boy’s nose is practically touching his knees. “Look at that.”
Esca’s backside is completely delectable, two perfect rounded globes with the faintest bruises left over from that first beating Marcus had seen administered that first day. He resisted the urge to trace the lines of those bruises. He wants to squeeze Esca’s ass until it’s rosy, to feel Esca arch into his palm. Marcus swallows.
“What about it?” He manages to ask without sounding completely overcome.
“I know he’s not much to look at, but he’s perfect adequate.” Placid says.
“So?” Marcus sounds completely nonchalant. He’s pleased with this. If he can just keep his cool, maybe everything will be okay.
“Look, if you don’t want him, there’s a fellow in Seal House who’s absurdly fond of him. I can always transfer him.”
“I like him just fine.” Marcus says. “I…prefer not to leave marks.”
It’s a lie. He’d like to leave marks all over Esca’s body, making him remember Marcus every time he moves a single muscle. But it seems wrong somehow, to share that with Placid. It’s none of his business. Esca is beyond that.
“As you like.” Placid shrugs. “It just seems a waste. He bruises so prettily.” He palms one of Esca’s cheeks, squeezing slightly.
Marcus can’t see Esca’s face, but his knees are trembling slightly.
“He’s always so tight,” Placid says, sliding the tips of his fingers between Esca’s cheeks. “It’s fascinating. Would you mind if I borrowed him for the evening?”
“What about your own fag?” Marcus manages, over the sudden tightness in his chest.
“Variety, Marcus is the spice of the life.” Placid tells him.
“Well, normally, I’d say yes, Placid, but I had plans myself tonight.”
“Oh well, in that case.” Placid pats Esca’s ass almost gently. “Pull up your trousers and go up to his room.” Esca obeys silently.
Marcus stays for a whiskey, and has to hear a long monologue on which fag gives the best blowjob. Placid’s tried them all of course.
He’s slightly drunker by the time he finally manages to excuse himself and escape upstairs.
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Marcus and Esca, however, are great fun with their strained and somewhat odd relationship. And hot UST is very, very hot.
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Marcus is such a woobie, and in so far over his head already, and Esca is so *inscrutable.* It's a winning combination.
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He is indeed. *pats him on the head* *gives him some tea*
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LOVE LOVE LOVE IT!
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“Esca.” Marcus whispers. He doesn’t really want to wake the boy in case he’s fallen asleep, but Esca jerks his head up immediately. He looks at Marcus steadily as he gets to his feet.
“Hey, hey,” Marcus holds up his hands. “Relax. I’m not going to touch you.”
“But you said…” Esca looks from Marcus to the door, as though gauging the amount of space between him and freedom. “That you had…plans.”
“What?” Marcus shakes his head incredulously. “I didn’t mean that. Fuck, you don’t actually think that…”
Marcus has done a lot of dubious things in his life. He stole a car when he was fourteen, just for the hell of it. He was the grass distributor for a small section of his high school during his freshman year, and he spent most of his sophomore year pleasantly stoned. He’s had sex with just about every boy that he ever liked, and didn’t regret it at all, except for the fact that his dear old dad, faraway in England, expected him to get his act together eventually and stick his dick in a pussy at some point. He’s been expelled from two schools for fighting. For the most part, he doesn’t regret anything.
But the idea that they just assume he’d fuck some kid, even a kid he desperately wants to fuck…just because he can, because they can apparently do whatever they want, makes him sick to his stomach.
“I’m not going to touch you.” He repeats, wishing there was some way he could make the words sink in.
Esca doesn’t say anything, so Marcus starts getting undressed. He kicks his boots off, half stumbling over them, then pulls his t-shirt over his head. He’s too warm, and his head is spinning a little. He really wishes he hadn’t thought about fucking. He’s half hard as he shrugs off his jeans.
“Look,” He starts to say, but stops.
Esca’s just leaning against the wall, a sardonic expression on his face.
“What?” Marcus says.
Esca nods at his swollen dick. “You don’t want to fuck me? Really?” Esca sneers skeptically. “For some reason, I don’t believe you.”
There’s a rushing sound in Marcus’s ears, as anger washes over him in blinding waves. With a snarl, he grabs Esca, jerking him over towards the bed with a hard yank of his collar. Esca stumbles backward onto the bed. Marcus has him flat on his back in an instant, straddling him. He presses all his weight against the smaller boy, trapping him effectively between his thighs.
Marcus leans in until his face is mere inches away from Esca’s. To his credit the other boy doesn’t flinch. He just stares up at Marcus defiantly.
“Oh, believe me, I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you so hard, I could come just thinking about it. I want to fuck you straight though this goddamn mattress.” Marcus sits back on Esca’s hips. He‘s full aware that he‘s only wearing his boxers, and he‘s hard as a fucking rock now, and Esca is warm and pliant beneath him. “But I won’t.”
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“Because it’d be wrong.” Marcus rolls off him, to lean back against the wall. His dick is straining between his legs. He ignores it. Esca pushes himself to sit back up against the headboard.
“I don’t understand you.” He says flatly.
“Yeah, well, sometimes I don’t understand me, either.“ Marcus says. “Now, do you want the bed or the floor?”
“Are you shitting me?”
“You have to stay up here.” Marcus informs him wearily. “Placid-the-douchebag already believes I’m fucking your ass for the night, so yeah…stay.” He waves his hand magnanimously.
“Okay then.” Esca scoots off the bed.
“You don’t want the bed?” Marcus raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t you need it?” Esca pulls off his blazer, hanging it on Marcus’s chair.
“Why?”
Esca’s hand hovers at the first button on his shirt. “Your leg.”
The rage threatens Marcus again, surging up in his throat, but it’s not just anger, it’s grief and everything he’s been trying to keep buried for the past few months. “I’m not a fucking cripple.” He spits.
“I never said you were.” Esca says matter-of-factly. He undoes his buttons quickly, stripping his shirt off, and laying it over the blazer. He only hesitates a moment before removing his trousers. Now he’s clad only his undershirt and his shorts. Marcus exhales long and low, trying not to stare. His dick is pleading for attention.
“Look, I’ll sleep on the floor.” Esca says. “It’s all right.”
“Fine.” Marcus grabs one of his pillows and his blanket from the bottom of the bed and tosses them to him. “Suit yourself.”
Esca catches them awkwardly. He starts to say something, then changes his mind. Silently, he puts the pillow down on the rug in the center of the room, and curls up, pulling the blanket over him.
Marcus lies down, covering himself with his sheet. His dick is killing him. He swallows heavily.
“When did you get your tattoo?”
“What?” Esca rolls over to face him.
“Your tattoo. It’s cool.” Marcus groans inwardly. Could he possibly sound more lame?
“Oh…” Esca looks at his arm. “Thanks.”
“So when’d you get it?”
“Last year. Right…right before my dad died.” Esca goes silent.
“Ah… right.” Marcus lies there, wondering whether he should say anything more. “Sorry,” is all he can manage. He means it though.
“Yeah, me too.” Esca rolls back to face the other way.
Marcus lies awake for the next half hour, until the breathing of the other boy has become a steady even rhythm. At last Marcus gives in and sticks his hand down his shorts.
He definitely doesn’t think about the first time he saw Esa, how the boy had looked half naked in the afternoon sun…his nipples tense, his hipbones angular and inviting. The way he’d lain there in the grass, chest heaving.
Marcus jerks himself off with quick, sloppy strokes, definitely not thinking about Esca through the entire act. When he’s finished, Marcus lets his head fall back on his single pillow, sweating and spent.
In all honesty, Marcus knows he let himself think about Esca because he knows he’ll never do anything about the want aching inside of him.
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His skin is on fire. There's warmth surrounding him, sheathing his cock, hot, sucking heat, dragging wetly over his shaft...teeth grazing slowly along the tender skin...softly tonguing the slit. The heat moves slightly and there's a tongue on his balls, sucking them as Marcus moans. Then his dick is covered once more, as fingers wrap loosely around the base of his shaft, stroking him. Marcus gasps, he’s so close, it’s amazing. His cock is completely enveloped in this delicious heat, and there’s something warm pressing against his pubic hair. Taking him deeper, and deeper, until his balls tighten and he comes with a soft whimper.
Marcus opens his eyes slowly; he’s reluctant to leave this blissful dream state.
It takes him a moment to register the head that’s resting against his thigh, the eyes watching him closely. Marcus blinks, focuses…blinks again. Esca’s definitely still there between his legs, looking sleepy-eyed and his lips... Marcus focuses on his lips. They look wet and soft and…
“What’re you doing?” His voice is rough.
“If you don’t know, I must be doing it wrong.” Esca rests his folded arms on Marcus’s belly.
“But…why?’ Marcus stares at him. His cock is spent. There’s a glistening sheen at Esca’s lips. He wipes his mouth casually with the back of his hand. It definitely happened.
“Consider it a thank you.”
“You…blew…me.”
“Don’t wind yourself up about it.” Esca gets off the bed. “It was a one-time thing.”
Marcus stares at him incredulously, then the full realization hits him. “And I fucking slept through it.” He groans.
Esca shrugs. “Not my fault you’re a heavy sleeper.” He reaches for his clothes.
Marcus pushes himself up to watch as Esca dresses. He can’t fucking believe what just happened. He can't believe that Esca actually did it, nor can he believe that he slept through the whole thing.
For someone who slept on a rug and is dressed in yesterday’s clothes, Esca looks impeccable. “So,” He faces Marcus, and for a second, Marcus hopes fervently…
“Can I go?”
“Yeah.” Marcus says, trying to conceal his disappointment. Then, “No, wait.” He rolls off the bed, hastily pushing his dick back inside his shorts. Esca watches this process with amusement. Marcus comes over to him, Esca stands his ground. Marcus kneels and reaches for his trousers.
“This is sweet, but you don’t have to reciprocate.” Esca says dryly.
“Shut up.” Marcus flushes. He’d like nothing more than to pull Esca’s trousers down and show him exactly how good of a blow-job Marcus actually gives, but he refrains. Instead, he pushes the hem of Esca’s shirt up and tugs his trousers down so that Esca’s hipbone is revealed. He takes a deep breath and leans in. Setting his teeth to the skin, softly at first, then he presses harder.
There’s a harsh intake of breath from above him, and Esca grips his hair, not hard, but tightly. Marcus sucks at Esca’s skin until he knows he’s done a good job. And then he pulls off. Esca slowly releases his grip, and looks down at him.
“There.” Marcus leans back on his heels. He presses a thumb to the mark now evident and nods in satisfaction. “If anyone asks…”
Esca looks at his hip. There, bright against his skin is a vivid red mark. He can see where Marcus‘s teeth held him, the indent of his ownership. “Okay then.” Esca clears his throat. “Right.” He goes.
And Marcus can’t be sure, but he’s almost certain that Esca is hard as he brushes past him. Not that it matters anyway, because he’s still gone, closing the door behind him. Marcus stands, wincing as he remembers his leg for the first time that morning.
Esca ignores him the rest of the day and Marcus almost begins to wonder if he imagined the whole thing. But whenever he pictures the mark on Esca’s hip, he can’t help smiling.
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