Marcus
I stare at the dark water from my vantage point at the top of the bridge. I know I should feel sad or even afraid, considering what I am about to do. But I feel nothing. I am so numb inside, like a dried-up husk. I sigh and give my phone one last look; no calls as usual, not even a promotional text from my service provider. It's such a cold and dreary night that it perfectly matches my mood. I want to scream; maybe someone somewhere can hear me, can heed my pain, but I know it's futile. I gulp and try to stop the tears I feel prickling at the back of my head.
I don't want to be this pathetic, but does it really matter? Even if I cried, who would hear me? It's midnight on an obscure bridge with the noise of the water below. I let the floodgate open and sob uncontrollably for what feel like hours. I cry until I fear I will not be able to stop long enough to accomplish what I came here to do. It wouldn't surprise me if I were unable to do it. Like everything else in my life, I would probably fail even at death. I hiccup as I will my tears to stop. I had hoped the crying would be cathartic, but all I feel is empty, numb, and tired, so tired my head feels heavy. I lean over the bridge more to support my weary body than a need to get nearer to my death. This is it! The end of my pathetic twenty-four years of miserable existence.
I am surprised I made it this far, considering I was doomed at birth. My mother died while giving birth to me, my deadbeat dad abandoned me at the hospital, and no other next of kin could be found. Apparently, my mother was an only child, and her parents had passed on before I made an appearance. I must have been cursed with rejection because, contrary to the nurses and the social workers hopes, I never got adopted. I grew up in group homes and a few foster homes that somehow never stuck. Being moved around from birth turned me into a fearful child who only talked when addressed and would go long periods without uttering a word. I was sent to different specialist whose conclusion was nothing was wrong with me, and I was just being a little shit. Well, not in precisely those words, but I got the gist. I just had to grow up and get over it. Over time I learned to fake everyday human interactions and smiled when I was smiled at, making an effort to fit in in school. Still, it never came naturally. By the time I was a teenager, I was done acting, and back to being the moody, uncommunicative fuck I always was. At 18, I was officially off the system, and I could live on my own. Still, having barely graduated high school, there was no question of attending college.
I resigned myself to menial labor while hoping something anything would change. Finally, I would feel alive, like I mattered and was important to someone, but that never happened. After a string of bad luck, I ended up homeless for the last six months. Hunger and loneliness were my constant companions until I decided to stop being a pussy and end it all. It's not like I was waiting for prince charming to find me! Yeah, on top of everything, I was gay as fuck. I really should pick a struggle, but it seems struggle picks me. Being gay wasn't an issue except for the part where no man had shown interest in me. According to one of my many co-works, I was unapproachable and depressive. I don't know how I could be anything else since I had been depressed for as long as I can remember.
So anyway, here I was at my favorite spot, ready to end it all, to finally rest. Hopefully, the afterlife will be much kinder to me. I think hard about what I regretted the most. All I can think about is that I have never been kissed romantically by another person or been told I love you, and I feel the longing for that deep in my bones.
I wish I had had even a brief affair, even a one-sided one, just to feel the heat of another being, but I guess it wasn't in the cards for me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath; this is the final moment. I climb the bridge and look up last chance to see the faint stars. I look down again, gulp, close my eyes and let go.
Marcus Except I don't fall. I am yanked down and into a heap on top of a hard body. I am dazed for a moment; what has just happened? I try to sit up, but a strong handheld me down "please don't do it, "a voice beneath my body says beseechingly. I tug again as I try to sit up to look at the person behind the voice, but he refuses to let me go. "Please let go of me," I ask politely. "No," he answers, sighing, "I just want to sit up, please," I try again; he hesitates a bit, but he loosens his grip on me. I sit up, and so does he. He looks at me cautiously, afraid I'll spook and try to jump again. He sits up, and I finally get a good look at him; by God, he is good-looking. He has these vivid blue eyes that I feel are looking directly into my soul. He is tall, taller than my 5'8; he is probably 6' inches and some change. He stares back at me, waiting for me to say something, but I don't know how I feel, let alone what to say. Suddenly it occurs to me that I have failed at killing myself.
Marcus He lets go of me and stands up. I feel bereft and put my arms across my chest, trying to hold the loneliness at bay. "I will be back in a minute, ok; try not to miss me too much," he says with a smile as he bends to peck my forehead, and that warm fuzzy feeling is back again. He is back in what feels like seconds, and he leads me up the stairs. My heart beats faster in anticipation and a little excitement. I wasn't sure what he meant by taking care of me, but I was eager to find out. He leads me to what turns out to be a bathroom. There is a bathtub that is almost filled with hot water. He turns the tap off and pours what I assume are bath salts into the tub, and suddenly it's full of fruity fragrance and soapy bubbles. "May I"? I am confused for a moment, but when he touches my jacket zipper, I blush because I can't remember the last time anyone undressed me. "Please let me take care of you, ok?" I nodded and bit my lip to keep from whimpering at the care he was showing me. He
Marcus He lowers me into the bed; tongue still stuck down my throat. I don't know what happened to our towels because his hot naked body is draped over my very naked body. He moves the kiss from my mouth to the hollow in my neck and peppers my chest with kisses. He licks at my nipples which are now as hard as pebbles. He bites, and I cry out in pain, but he soothes it with his tongue, and I can't decide if I like it or hate it, but my leaking cock decides for me. He moves his ministration to my taut stomach, and before I can adjust to that, his hot mouth engulfs my cock, and my back arches. I make a strangled sound as my balls tighten. I know I am seconds away from coming "please…I am about to come...” I cry out. Instead of slowing down, he renews his effort with vigor, and suddenly, my vision goes white as I come so hard. I feel like I have an out-of-body experience, and I can't even bring myself to feel ashamed at how fast he got me off. I come to, slowly to Simon shushing me an
Simon I don't know what I am doing, but I hope to God I made the right decision by asking Marcus to stay with me. I couldn't, with a clear conscience, send him on his way while he was still messed up. He looks much better today, but I know he still has demons he needs to deal with before he can even begin to be ok. Last night was scary. I keep imagining what could have happened if I hadn't happened to go for a walk across that bridge. I shudder as I remember the lost look on his face as he tried to take that leap into nothingness. I am going to have nightmares about that for a long while. I had held on to him instinctively, and when I had looked at those huge liquid sad brown eyes, I had felt a fierce need to protect him. He reminded me of another boy that had lost the battle to despair; I had not been there to save him, but I could save Marcus; I just hoped he would let me. Yesterday had been surreal; saving him from certain death left me unsettled, but what happened afterwar
Marcus I wake up disoriented. It takes me a minute to remember where I was, and I have a moment of panic when I don't see Simon; then I remember he is probably in the office. I stretch and check the time on my broken phone. It's almost 4pm. I have slept half the afternoon away. How embarrassing I should be making plans for my future, and here I was sleeping. I palm my face and feel shame wash over me. I can feel the panic start to rise again. This has been surreal, and I don't want Simon to think I was out to use him. I decide to go find him and apologize. Hopefully, he will see I am serious about putting my life together. I can hear him on the phone as I get closer to his office, and it gets quiet when I reach the door. I hesitate before I knock and take a deep breath when he asks me to come in. I open the door slowly and find him looking hella sexy in his glasses. I feel my face heat up as he looks up at me. "Had a nice nap? he asks "yes..., I mean no, sorry... I'm sorry I slept.
Simon It's been a hectic day. Nothing is as exhausting as a customer who won't make up their mind and panic at the slightest change. I feel like I have been putting out fires since I got into the office. David had also not been very helpful. David is my business partner, and an ex turned into a close friend. Now I regret telling him about Marcus because that's all he seemed interested in discussing despite the crisis with our client. He has hounded me for details of that night and asked questions I have no idea how to answer, like why he was still living with me? Were we dating? Did I want to have sex with him again? But I don't know how to answer him because I also don't know. Marcus was confusing me. He has wormed his way into my being, and If I was being honest, I didn't want him to leave. I want something from him, but Iam not exactly sure exactly what, which is why I dint want to pursue anything until I was sure. Yesterday holding him as we watched TV was everything. It's b
Marcus As I prepared for bed, I could not help but replay how the evening had gone. Our daily cuddles were the best, and I really look forward to them. The kind contact healed something profound in me, and while the closeness made my body heat up, the companionship part and the care were what I looked forward to the most. I loved his reaction to what he called the “make-over,” making him happy fed a deep need in me. I smile when I remember his Sheldon dig; I am not offended at all because he is my favorite character! The next morning i am up again before him, which means I get another opportunity to make him breakfast. I chop up some vegetables, and soon I have coffee and a mushroom and spinach omelet plus toast by the time he makes an appearance. While I enjoy the view of him in a suit and he is truly magnificent, it only means that he is spending another day at the office and I will be left alone in the house. I am disappointed though I try not to show it. “You are just in ti
Simon I think my brain has short-circuited because I was kissing Marcus back. His kiss caught me off guard, but I would be lying if I didn't say I had been longing for it. The kiss ignites a fire deep within, and I can feel him get consumed by it as well. I let go, and soon we are grinding against each other, and I just want to rip off his clothes so I can touch the hot skin under me. He seems to have the same idea because his hand is under my shirt, trying and failing to open the buttons. He moans in frustration and desire, and soon my buttons fly everywhere when he rps it in half. This jolts me back to my senses, and I stop. He opens his eyes, eyeing me questioningly. I move away from the couch and try to catch my breath. His questioning gaze has now turned into vulnerability, and I can see him shrinking into himself. Shit, he thinks I am rejecting him because I don't want him. I move back to the couch, pull him into my lap, and kiss him softly. "I want you so bad, M, but no