Fic: Hundred Foot Ceilings (Brotherhood II, Harlan/Marcus, NC17)
Title: Hundred Foot Ceilings
Fandom: Brotherhood II
Pairing: Harlan/Marcus
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: They're mine now, I called them. What? They were just lying there, nobody was using them.
Summary: Part of the truth is better than nothing. Follows At Moments After.
He doesn't like jogging any better the second time he tries it. His lungs feel like they're about to explode, his legs are on fire and he's pretty sure Harlan's laughing at him. Harlan's the whole reason he's out here; he's the reason Marcus took up jogging the first time, too, because he wanted to fit in and running into Harlan and his friends on the jogging trail seemed like a good way to start.
It worked, sort of, because he's here now and he's got Harlan all to himself. And he's almost glad his lungs are burning, because it means he's focused on the pain and not on whether or not to tell Harlan the truth before Matt does. Matt who spent the whole day avoiding him, and Marcus would have been grateful for the distraction from thinking about Harlan if he hadn't spent most of the day worrying about what Matt was going to do next.
"You gotta quit smoking, Marcus."
Harlan's voice is right against his ear, breath warming his skin and Marcus wishes he wasn't wearing a sweatshirt so he could feel all that hot, bare skin pressed against his back. As soon as he thinks it hands slide down his shoulders, along his spine to the hem of his sweatshirt. He lifts his arms obediently when Harlan tugs at the fabric, peeling it off to drop it on the bench next to their lockers. Harlan's hands feel good on his skin, warm and strong and familiar, and when lips ghost across his shoulder Marcus can't quite suppress a shudder.
Harlan laughs against his neck, low and soft as he pushes Marcus' sweatpants down to pool on the floor at his feet. His underwear are next, and before he has time to argue he finds himself standing in the deserted locker room in nothing but his socks. "What if somebody comes in?"
"Relax," Harlan answers, hands on Marcus' hips and he can feel the hard outline of Harlan's cock pressing against his ass through Harlan's sweatpants. "Nobody'll be in here for hours, I made sure."
"That sounds familiar."
"Come on, you're not still pissed about that, are you?" Harlan asks, hand sliding between them to curve around Marcus' ass. "I meant what I said, you know. You do have a cute butt."
It's not the first time he's wondered if this is how that day would have gone if Alex and Randall hadn't been in the showers with them. He's pretty sure it would have, pretty sure Harlan would have wanted to fuck him and he's pretty sure he would have let it happen. He wonders if Luc would have come along, if he would have interrupted or just turned around and left them alone. But that would have screwed up Luc's plan, because if he couldn't rescue Marcus from Harlan he wouldn't have had an in with any of them, and Marcus tenses when he realizes that Luc must have set up that whole scene somehow.
"What?" Harlan's hands are still moving on him, pressing hard against the knots of tension in his shoulders and Marcus can't help leaning back into it.
"Nothing," he answers, shaking his head before he turns far enough to look at Harlan. And he knows this is the right time to tell him, to get it all out in the open so he won't have to keep thinking about it. Worrying about it and wondering what happens when Harlan finally figures it out - or worse, when he hears it from somebody else. But Harlan feels good against him and Marcus has been waiting for this all day, staring at the back of Harlan's head during the few classes they share and counting the seconds until they're alone.
He can tell Harlan doesn't believe him, but instead of pressing for an answer he takes a step backwards, thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants to push them down over his hips. He drags the rest his clothes off in one graceful motion, kicking them out of the way before he reaches for Marcus again. "You gonna take a shower in your socks or what?"
Marcus glances down when Harlan smirks at him, rolling his eyes when he catches sight of the white athletic socks he's still wearing. He sits down on the bench to pull them off, trying hard not to be self-conscious about the fact that Harlan's watching him. Just…watching, like Marcus is the most interesting thing he's ever seen. Like Marcus is attractive, and this isn't all just some big joke Harlan thought up because he didn't have anything better to do.
But Harlan's standing right in front of him, hard and perfect and before Marcus can talk himself out of it he's reaching out to wrap a hand around the other boy's cock. He hears the low sound Harlan doesn't quite manage to suppress, just enough to give him the confidence he needs and he leans forward, tongue darting out to taste salt and Harlan on the head of his cock. That gets him a moan, so he slides his mouth down Harlan's length, hand still wrapped around Harlan's cock to stroke in tandem with his mouth.
He's still not any good at this, but so far Harlan hasn't complained about his lack of skill and Marcus figures that's a good sign. It hasn't been that long since his first official blow job, after all - less than a week, and it's all happening so fast that he can't help thinking it's going to come crashing down around him any day now. But for now Harlan's hands are in his hair, guiding his mouth and he flattens his tongue against the underside of Harlan's cock and presses hard.
His wrist twists a little with each stroke, just this side of too dry and he wishes he'd waited until they made it to the showers. He pulls off long enough to lick his palm, glancing up to find Harlan watching him and his own cock twitches at the intensity of Harlan's expression. Because it's still hard to believe that Harlan wants him, but he's sliding back into Marcus' mouth, thrusting slowly and moaning with each twist of Marcus' wrist.
Harlan's hands slide through his hair, stroking along his scalp and when he feels them tighten reflexively Marcus can tell how close he is. As soon as he thinks it Harlan's pulling away, face flushed as he pulls Marcus up off the bench and presses their lips together. His mouth's open, tongue thrusting in and out of Marcus' mouth and cock leaking precome against his stomach. His fingers dig into Marcus' arms, hard enough to leave bruises and Marcus has a feeling he's going to be taking showers early for the rest of the school year.
If Harlan wants him that long, and his stomach does a weird little flutter at the thought. It's the first time he's really let himself hope for it, and he doesn't want to want it, but he can't help himself. Not when Harlan's pushing him into a shower stall, following him in and reaching around him to turn the water on before he presses their lips together again. He thrusts hard against Marcus, chest heaving with the effort to breathe and Marcus pushes forward to meet each thrust.
"I've been thinking about that mouth all day," Harlan says when he pulls away, breath hot against Marcus' cheek and one hand on Marcus' hip to hold him against the wall. He's looking at Marcus, gaze wandering down to his cock and then back up again like he's trying to memorize exactly how Marcus looks right now. And maybe he is, because he's done a lot of looking over the past few days, and Marcus is starting to get used to it.
"Yeah?" he says, and it's probably the dumbest thing he could come up with, but Harlan doesn't laugh at him.
Instead he leans forward, mouth moving against Marcus' like he's been planning exactly this, remembering how their mouths fit together and how Marcus tastes on his tongue until he can't think about anything else. The thought of Harlan fantasizing about him all day makes Marcus' heart skip a beat, fingers flexing against Harlan's chest and when Harlan slides to his knees Marcus knows he's not going to last long.
He spreads his legs automatically, a hot blush rising up his neck and into his cheeks when Harlan grins up at him. And he knows he should try harder not to want this so much, but it's impossible when Harlan's on his knees in front of him, and when two wet fingers slide inside him Marcus forgets to care. It hurts a little, because he's still sore from yesterday and the day before, but it feels good too and when Harlan's mouth closes around his cock he can't help thrusting forward.
The shower's still on, just this side of too hot but Marcus barely feels the water hitting his skin and soaking his hair. All he can feel is Harlan's mouth on his cock and Harlan's fingers inside him, twisting a little with each thrust and Marcus hopes to god Harlan's right about nobody interrupting them, because he can't hold back the needy moans escaping his throat. He can't stop himself from thrusting into wet heat, fucking Harlan's mouth in time to the fingers fucking him.
And he wishes he could see them, wishes he'd had the nerve to ask if Harlan had a camera while they were still alone in his house, because he wants to know what they look like. He's seen guys together on the internet a few times, but it's hard to imagine exactly how they look together, how Harlan looks when he's pushing inside Marcus and how Marcus looks in the moments before he comes.
He doesn't think it would take much to convince Harlan to do it, but he's not sure they're ever going to have another chance. Harlan hasn't mentioned anything about bringing Marcus back to his house, about his parents going away again or weekends spent alternating between fucking in his big bed and watching movies on the giant TV in Harlan's parents' den. He wants there to be a next time, wants to slide back into Harlan's car and feel the motor purring under them all the way back to Harlan's house. He wants a lot of things he's not sure he's ever going to get, but he can't ask because he's not sure he wants to hear the answer.
He forces his eyes open, looking down to take in the sight of Harlan's mouth stretched around his cock. And he's never going to get used to that sight, never going to stop wondering if it's all some really vivid dream. Because it still doesn't seem possible, but the stretch of Harlan's fingers inside him is real and the pressure building in the pit of his stomach is definitely real. So either he's going to wake up with his sheets stuck to him or this is happening, Harlan Ratcliff's really sucking him off in the locker room showers and this time there's no one to stop them.
Marcus wants to come - needs to come - but before he does Harlan's pulling away, fingers sliding out of him and leaving him feeling emptier than he ever has. He opens his mouth to protest, to ask Harlan what the fuck he thinks he's doing, but before he gets the words out Harlan's hands are on his hips and pulling him away from the wall. "Turn around."
Harlan's hands are insistent, expression determined and Marcus knows even if he wanted to he couldn't resist. But he doesn't want to, because he knows what Harlan has in mind and he wants that more than anything. He's wanted it since the first time Harlan dropped to his knees in the shower, that day when they had an audience and even though he was scared out of his mind, Marcus still wanted it a little.
He's still not sure what that says about him. He's not sure whether to be ashamed of the fact that part of him wanted Harlan to do something, to skip the tease and just push inside Marcus. He still wakes up sometimes from dreams of Harlan pushing that stupid marker inside him, flushing hot with shame every time, but it doesn't stop him from heading to the bathroom to jerk off to the image that never quite goes away.
Only there's no marker this time, and Harlan's tongue is pushing inside him instead. Marcus moans at the sensation, fingers searching for something to hold onto until he finally curls his hands around the top of the shower stall. He knows his hands are going to ache later, but right now all he can feel is the wet heat pushing inside him and the hand sliding between his legs to squeeze his balls. He wants Harlan to fuck him, knows it's going to hurt but he doesn't care, and when he thrusts back Harlan gets the message.
A second later he's gone, but Marcus can still feel him there, still feels hands stretching him open and tongue thrusting minutely until Marcus thinks he could come just from the memory. Then Harlan's back, all heat and muscle against Marcus' back and his cock pressing against Marcus' ass. And he's going to die before Harlan ever does anything, because he's still not pushing inside Marcus. Instead he thrusts slowly against Marcus' ass, dragging a low moan out of Marcus every time he brushes his tender opening.
Harlan's hand closes around Marcus' cock, mouth on his neck and sucking hard as he strokes. And he's dragging this out, making it last as long as possible and now Marcus is sure Harlan's trying to kill him. He wonders if maybe this is Harlan's idea of revenge, if maybe he knows about Alex and Randall after all and this is his way of torturing Marcus. Marcus can't think of a better way to go, though, and when Harlan tightens his grip and nips at the fresh bruise on Marcus' neck he finally loses control.
Wet heat coats Harlan's fingers, landing on his stomach to be washed away by the water still pounding against their skin. Harlan's free hand grips his hip to hold him up, his other hand pushing between them to press two slick fingers inside Marcus. He gasps at the intrusion, pressing back into it and ignoring the pain of the stretch. Because he wants it to hurt, wants to feel it tonight when he's back in his dorm room and Harlan's all alone in his big bed.
"Jesus," he murmurs, then, "fuck me," voice broken and a fresh blush staining his cheeks at the sound. It's the first time he's said the words out loud, but he can't make himself care when Harlan's fingers disappear and his cock presses inside.
Marcus chokes back a sob, although whether it's pain or relief he couldn't say. Because it hurts, but the pleasure outweighs the pain and he finds himself pushing back into each thrust. He knows how he must look, begging for Harlan to fuck him and then fighting to get him even deeper with every stroke. He can't make himself stop, though - can't do anything but ride out the sensation, tightening around Harlan with each thrust until Harlan's panting and thrusting forward one last time to come deep inside him.
He doesn't know how he'll survive the rest of the year if Harlan's planning to do this every afternoon. And he really is going to have to quit smoking if he wants to keep up, because the jogging's hard enough, but keeping up with Harlan takes even more out of him. He's struggling for breath when Harlan pulls out, hands on his hips to turn him until they're face to face. He leans hard against the wall, whole body limp and he can't even find the energy to touch Harlan.
But Harlan doesn't seem to mind, because he's pressed hard against Marcus to hold him up, mouth moving on Marcus' neck and when he pulls back he's smiling in that way that makes Marcus' heart beat way too fast. "Jesus, Marcus, you're a mess," he says, fingers tracing the marks on Marcus' neck and it's obvious he's pretty impressed with his handiwork. "I hope you don't have group showers in the dorm."
"You know we do," Marcus answers, rolling his eyes at Harlan's smug expression. And now he's sure Harlan wants people to know - about them, and that's something he never would have expected. Never would have hoped for, but Harlan's never really cared what anybody thought about him, so there's no reason for him to start now. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter. People saw me get out of your car this morning."
"That doesn't mean anything," Harlan says, but he's still looking pretty pleased with himself and suddenly Marcus gets the feeling he's missing a big piece of a puzzle he didn't even know he was supposed to be trying to solve.
"Matt knows."
"What, did you tell him?"
"Yeah," Marcus answers, tensing as soon as the word leaves his mouth, because so far Harlan hasn't cared if people are talking about them, but rumors are a lot different than actual confirmation.
Harlan doesn't look pissed, though; for a second he looks a little surprised, but before Marcus can react his smile's right back in place. "Yeah? I didn't think you had it in you, Ratner."
"So you don't mind?"
"What the fuck do I care what Slayton thinks?" Harlan answers, the words warming Marcus' mouth and he finds himself leaning forward. Harlan's lips brush his, then again before he presses their mouths together hard, hand in Marcus' hair to tilt his head until their mouths fit together like they were made for this.
There's a lot more he knows he should tell Harlan, but it's impossible when Harlan's tongue is mapping his mouth. And even if he could talk, he can't think, not when Harlan's pressed hard against him, holding him up and pushing a leg between Marcus' thighs to thrust against his already hardening cock. He told Harlan part of the truth, anyway, and now that he knows Harlan's not planning to break up with him he figures there will be time for the rest of the story later.
Fandom: Brotherhood II
Pairing: Harlan/Marcus
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: They're mine now, I called them. What? They were just lying there, nobody was using them.
Summary: Part of the truth is better than nothing. Follows At Moments After.
He doesn't like jogging any better the second time he tries it. His lungs feel like they're about to explode, his legs are on fire and he's pretty sure Harlan's laughing at him. Harlan's the whole reason he's out here; he's the reason Marcus took up jogging the first time, too, because he wanted to fit in and running into Harlan and his friends on the jogging trail seemed like a good way to start.
It worked, sort of, because he's here now and he's got Harlan all to himself. And he's almost glad his lungs are burning, because it means he's focused on the pain and not on whether or not to tell Harlan the truth before Matt does. Matt who spent the whole day avoiding him, and Marcus would have been grateful for the distraction from thinking about Harlan if he hadn't spent most of the day worrying about what Matt was going to do next.
"You gotta quit smoking, Marcus."
Harlan's voice is right against his ear, breath warming his skin and Marcus wishes he wasn't wearing a sweatshirt so he could feel all that hot, bare skin pressed against his back. As soon as he thinks it hands slide down his shoulders, along his spine to the hem of his sweatshirt. He lifts his arms obediently when Harlan tugs at the fabric, peeling it off to drop it on the bench next to their lockers. Harlan's hands feel good on his skin, warm and strong and familiar, and when lips ghost across his shoulder Marcus can't quite suppress a shudder.
Harlan laughs against his neck, low and soft as he pushes Marcus' sweatpants down to pool on the floor at his feet. His underwear are next, and before he has time to argue he finds himself standing in the deserted locker room in nothing but his socks. "What if somebody comes in?"
"Relax," Harlan answers, hands on Marcus' hips and he can feel the hard outline of Harlan's cock pressing against his ass through Harlan's sweatpants. "Nobody'll be in here for hours, I made sure."
"That sounds familiar."
"Come on, you're not still pissed about that, are you?" Harlan asks, hand sliding between them to curve around Marcus' ass. "I meant what I said, you know. You do have a cute butt."
It's not the first time he's wondered if this is how that day would have gone if Alex and Randall hadn't been in the showers with them. He's pretty sure it would have, pretty sure Harlan would have wanted to fuck him and he's pretty sure he would have let it happen. He wonders if Luc would have come along, if he would have interrupted or just turned around and left them alone. But that would have screwed up Luc's plan, because if he couldn't rescue Marcus from Harlan he wouldn't have had an in with any of them, and Marcus tenses when he realizes that Luc must have set up that whole scene somehow.
"What?" Harlan's hands are still moving on him, pressing hard against the knots of tension in his shoulders and Marcus can't help leaning back into it.
"Nothing," he answers, shaking his head before he turns far enough to look at Harlan. And he knows this is the right time to tell him, to get it all out in the open so he won't have to keep thinking about it. Worrying about it and wondering what happens when Harlan finally figures it out - or worse, when he hears it from somebody else. But Harlan feels good against him and Marcus has been waiting for this all day, staring at the back of Harlan's head during the few classes they share and counting the seconds until they're alone.
He can tell Harlan doesn't believe him, but instead of pressing for an answer he takes a step backwards, thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants to push them down over his hips. He drags the rest his clothes off in one graceful motion, kicking them out of the way before he reaches for Marcus again. "You gonna take a shower in your socks or what?"
Marcus glances down when Harlan smirks at him, rolling his eyes when he catches sight of the white athletic socks he's still wearing. He sits down on the bench to pull them off, trying hard not to be self-conscious about the fact that Harlan's watching him. Just…watching, like Marcus is the most interesting thing he's ever seen. Like Marcus is attractive, and this isn't all just some big joke Harlan thought up because he didn't have anything better to do.
But Harlan's standing right in front of him, hard and perfect and before Marcus can talk himself out of it he's reaching out to wrap a hand around the other boy's cock. He hears the low sound Harlan doesn't quite manage to suppress, just enough to give him the confidence he needs and he leans forward, tongue darting out to taste salt and Harlan on the head of his cock. That gets him a moan, so he slides his mouth down Harlan's length, hand still wrapped around Harlan's cock to stroke in tandem with his mouth.
He's still not any good at this, but so far Harlan hasn't complained about his lack of skill and Marcus figures that's a good sign. It hasn't been that long since his first official blow job, after all - less than a week, and it's all happening so fast that he can't help thinking it's going to come crashing down around him any day now. But for now Harlan's hands are in his hair, guiding his mouth and he flattens his tongue against the underside of Harlan's cock and presses hard.
His wrist twists a little with each stroke, just this side of too dry and he wishes he'd waited until they made it to the showers. He pulls off long enough to lick his palm, glancing up to find Harlan watching him and his own cock twitches at the intensity of Harlan's expression. Because it's still hard to believe that Harlan wants him, but he's sliding back into Marcus' mouth, thrusting slowly and moaning with each twist of Marcus' wrist.
Harlan's hands slide through his hair, stroking along his scalp and when he feels them tighten reflexively Marcus can tell how close he is. As soon as he thinks it Harlan's pulling away, face flushed as he pulls Marcus up off the bench and presses their lips together. His mouth's open, tongue thrusting in and out of Marcus' mouth and cock leaking precome against his stomach. His fingers dig into Marcus' arms, hard enough to leave bruises and Marcus has a feeling he's going to be taking showers early for the rest of the school year.
If Harlan wants him that long, and his stomach does a weird little flutter at the thought. It's the first time he's really let himself hope for it, and he doesn't want to want it, but he can't help himself. Not when Harlan's pushing him into a shower stall, following him in and reaching around him to turn the water on before he presses their lips together again. He thrusts hard against Marcus, chest heaving with the effort to breathe and Marcus pushes forward to meet each thrust.
"I've been thinking about that mouth all day," Harlan says when he pulls away, breath hot against Marcus' cheek and one hand on Marcus' hip to hold him against the wall. He's looking at Marcus, gaze wandering down to his cock and then back up again like he's trying to memorize exactly how Marcus looks right now. And maybe he is, because he's done a lot of looking over the past few days, and Marcus is starting to get used to it.
"Yeah?" he says, and it's probably the dumbest thing he could come up with, but Harlan doesn't laugh at him.
Instead he leans forward, mouth moving against Marcus' like he's been planning exactly this, remembering how their mouths fit together and how Marcus tastes on his tongue until he can't think about anything else. The thought of Harlan fantasizing about him all day makes Marcus' heart skip a beat, fingers flexing against Harlan's chest and when Harlan slides to his knees Marcus knows he's not going to last long.
He spreads his legs automatically, a hot blush rising up his neck and into his cheeks when Harlan grins up at him. And he knows he should try harder not to want this so much, but it's impossible when Harlan's on his knees in front of him, and when two wet fingers slide inside him Marcus forgets to care. It hurts a little, because he's still sore from yesterday and the day before, but it feels good too and when Harlan's mouth closes around his cock he can't help thrusting forward.
The shower's still on, just this side of too hot but Marcus barely feels the water hitting his skin and soaking his hair. All he can feel is Harlan's mouth on his cock and Harlan's fingers inside him, twisting a little with each thrust and Marcus hopes to god Harlan's right about nobody interrupting them, because he can't hold back the needy moans escaping his throat. He can't stop himself from thrusting into wet heat, fucking Harlan's mouth in time to the fingers fucking him.
And he wishes he could see them, wishes he'd had the nerve to ask if Harlan had a camera while they were still alone in his house, because he wants to know what they look like. He's seen guys together on the internet a few times, but it's hard to imagine exactly how they look together, how Harlan looks when he's pushing inside Marcus and how Marcus looks in the moments before he comes.
He doesn't think it would take much to convince Harlan to do it, but he's not sure they're ever going to have another chance. Harlan hasn't mentioned anything about bringing Marcus back to his house, about his parents going away again or weekends spent alternating between fucking in his big bed and watching movies on the giant TV in Harlan's parents' den. He wants there to be a next time, wants to slide back into Harlan's car and feel the motor purring under them all the way back to Harlan's house. He wants a lot of things he's not sure he's ever going to get, but he can't ask because he's not sure he wants to hear the answer.
He forces his eyes open, looking down to take in the sight of Harlan's mouth stretched around his cock. And he's never going to get used to that sight, never going to stop wondering if it's all some really vivid dream. Because it still doesn't seem possible, but the stretch of Harlan's fingers inside him is real and the pressure building in the pit of his stomach is definitely real. So either he's going to wake up with his sheets stuck to him or this is happening, Harlan Ratcliff's really sucking him off in the locker room showers and this time there's no one to stop them.
Marcus wants to come - needs to come - but before he does Harlan's pulling away, fingers sliding out of him and leaving him feeling emptier than he ever has. He opens his mouth to protest, to ask Harlan what the fuck he thinks he's doing, but before he gets the words out Harlan's hands are on his hips and pulling him away from the wall. "Turn around."
Harlan's hands are insistent, expression determined and Marcus knows even if he wanted to he couldn't resist. But he doesn't want to, because he knows what Harlan has in mind and he wants that more than anything. He's wanted it since the first time Harlan dropped to his knees in the shower, that day when they had an audience and even though he was scared out of his mind, Marcus still wanted it a little.
He's still not sure what that says about him. He's not sure whether to be ashamed of the fact that part of him wanted Harlan to do something, to skip the tease and just push inside Marcus. He still wakes up sometimes from dreams of Harlan pushing that stupid marker inside him, flushing hot with shame every time, but it doesn't stop him from heading to the bathroom to jerk off to the image that never quite goes away.
Only there's no marker this time, and Harlan's tongue is pushing inside him instead. Marcus moans at the sensation, fingers searching for something to hold onto until he finally curls his hands around the top of the shower stall. He knows his hands are going to ache later, but right now all he can feel is the wet heat pushing inside him and the hand sliding between his legs to squeeze his balls. He wants Harlan to fuck him, knows it's going to hurt but he doesn't care, and when he thrusts back Harlan gets the message.
A second later he's gone, but Marcus can still feel him there, still feels hands stretching him open and tongue thrusting minutely until Marcus thinks he could come just from the memory. Then Harlan's back, all heat and muscle against Marcus' back and his cock pressing against Marcus' ass. And he's going to die before Harlan ever does anything, because he's still not pushing inside Marcus. Instead he thrusts slowly against Marcus' ass, dragging a low moan out of Marcus every time he brushes his tender opening.
Harlan's hand closes around Marcus' cock, mouth on his neck and sucking hard as he strokes. And he's dragging this out, making it last as long as possible and now Marcus is sure Harlan's trying to kill him. He wonders if maybe this is Harlan's idea of revenge, if maybe he knows about Alex and Randall after all and this is his way of torturing Marcus. Marcus can't think of a better way to go, though, and when Harlan tightens his grip and nips at the fresh bruise on Marcus' neck he finally loses control.
Wet heat coats Harlan's fingers, landing on his stomach to be washed away by the water still pounding against their skin. Harlan's free hand grips his hip to hold him up, his other hand pushing between them to press two slick fingers inside Marcus. He gasps at the intrusion, pressing back into it and ignoring the pain of the stretch. Because he wants it to hurt, wants to feel it tonight when he's back in his dorm room and Harlan's all alone in his big bed.
"Jesus," he murmurs, then, "fuck me," voice broken and a fresh blush staining his cheeks at the sound. It's the first time he's said the words out loud, but he can't make himself care when Harlan's fingers disappear and his cock presses inside.
Marcus chokes back a sob, although whether it's pain or relief he couldn't say. Because it hurts, but the pleasure outweighs the pain and he finds himself pushing back into each thrust. He knows how he must look, begging for Harlan to fuck him and then fighting to get him even deeper with every stroke. He can't make himself stop, though - can't do anything but ride out the sensation, tightening around Harlan with each thrust until Harlan's panting and thrusting forward one last time to come deep inside him.
He doesn't know how he'll survive the rest of the year if Harlan's planning to do this every afternoon. And he really is going to have to quit smoking if he wants to keep up, because the jogging's hard enough, but keeping up with Harlan takes even more out of him. He's struggling for breath when Harlan pulls out, hands on his hips to turn him until they're face to face. He leans hard against the wall, whole body limp and he can't even find the energy to touch Harlan.
But Harlan doesn't seem to mind, because he's pressed hard against Marcus to hold him up, mouth moving on Marcus' neck and when he pulls back he's smiling in that way that makes Marcus' heart beat way too fast. "Jesus, Marcus, you're a mess," he says, fingers tracing the marks on Marcus' neck and it's obvious he's pretty impressed with his handiwork. "I hope you don't have group showers in the dorm."
"You know we do," Marcus answers, rolling his eyes at Harlan's smug expression. And now he's sure Harlan wants people to know - about them, and that's something he never would have expected. Never would have hoped for, but Harlan's never really cared what anybody thought about him, so there's no reason for him to start now. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter. People saw me get out of your car this morning."
"That doesn't mean anything," Harlan says, but he's still looking pretty pleased with himself and suddenly Marcus gets the feeling he's missing a big piece of a puzzle he didn't even know he was supposed to be trying to solve.
"Matt knows."
"What, did you tell him?"
"Yeah," Marcus answers, tensing as soon as the word leaves his mouth, because so far Harlan hasn't cared if people are talking about them, but rumors are a lot different than actual confirmation.
Harlan doesn't look pissed, though; for a second he looks a little surprised, but before Marcus can react his smile's right back in place. "Yeah? I didn't think you had it in you, Ratner."
"So you don't mind?"
"What the fuck do I care what Slayton thinks?" Harlan answers, the words warming Marcus' mouth and he finds himself leaning forward. Harlan's lips brush his, then again before he presses their mouths together hard, hand in Marcus' hair to tilt his head until their mouths fit together like they were made for this.
There's a lot more he knows he should tell Harlan, but it's impossible when Harlan's tongue is mapping his mouth. And even if he could talk, he can't think, not when Harlan's pressed hard against him, holding him up and pushing a leg between Marcus' thighs to thrust against his already hardening cock. He told Harlan part of the truth, anyway, and now that he knows Harlan's not planning to break up with him he figures there will be time for the rest of the story later.