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31 Ocak 2022, 16:59
Chapter Fifteen
There are black roses on the dining room table, a bouquet of them that Marc keeps replenishing since Colt let him back into the house a week ago. Colt stares at them as he waits for the timer to go off so he can take dinner out of the oven. Black roses are beautifully sad, he thinks. Or maybe that's just how he's been feeling lately -- not beautiful, just sad.
Things have been rocky between him and Marc, not from Marc's end, rocky from Colt's end of things. Marc keeps meeting each obstacle Colt gives him and pushing past them until Colt succumbs to him, but then, after awhile, Colt begins to overthink things again. It's become a vicious cycle in his mind.
How did he get here?
It's his fault, he decides. He texted Marc and let him get a foot in the door. How could he have known that that was all that Marc needed to permeate everything in Colt's life? It was over from that moment because Marc is who he is and Colt is who he is. The moment Colt texted him, the moment he let Marc be brave for him, that was it. This was the only possible outcome.
Colt scratches at his beard. He needs to trim it up a bit. He's taken to wearing his hair up in a bun since Marc had used his sandy blond locks against him when he was angry. He'd thought about cutting it off short but Marc had told him that he didn't want that. Marc likes his hair the way it is. It's grown down past his shoulders.
The timer beeps, drawing him out of his thoughts. Colt goes to the oven to open it, sprinkle some cheese on top of the casserole and then put it back in for five more minutes.
He looks up at the corner of the kitchen above the cabinets where he now knows there's a camera. Is Marc watching him now?
He'd asked Marc to remove them. Marc had convinced him they were needed now, now that their house has been broken into, the cameras are needed. Colt couldn't disagree.
A top-notch security system was installed this week. Marc says it was needed as well. Colt couldn't disagree. It freaks him out to think too much about the fact that someone had broken in without their knowing about it. Nothing else was touched as far as he can tell. Nothing else was stolen, just the bag of drugs.
When Colt asked about who was in their house he was told he doesn't need to worry about it anymore. Colt still worries about it, but he didn't press for more. Maybe he should have, but he remembers Marc telling him that it isn't his place.
It's best for him to keep out of it.
Colt doesn't like to think about the things Marc has seen on video without Colt's having known it was going on. He'd seen innocent things like Colt dancing to music and singing loudly to music. Then he'd seen more intimate things; Colt pleasuring himself in bed and in the shower, when he'd gotten himself off on the couch while on the phone with Marc, the day he'd spent naked. Not to mention Colt on his knees numerous times giving Marc blow jobs.
They'd had a long conversation about it. Marc installed the cameras the first time Colt had left him alone at the house. Colt asked if he kept any of the video. Marc admitted that he did. It's the best kind of porn, Marc had said. Then he'd made Colt sit and watch video on his phone, video with Colt on his knees sucking Marc off.
It's strange to see yourself do that, maybe especially so for Colt. It's also an kırşehir escort bayan (http://www.escortkizrehberi.com/ilan-kategori/kirsehir-escort/) eye-opening experience. Watching the video, Colt sees irrefutable evidence that he likes doing the things that Marc and he do together. In a strange, twisted way, he enjoys watching it.
Marc convinced him that no one would see. It was just for him. Then he fed Colt whiskey and they fooled around. Colt succumbed.
The timer beeps again and Colt takes dinner out of the oven to set it on top of the stove. He looks at the clock. Marc isn't home yet. He's usually home by now.
He goes into the bathroom to trim his beard and mustache to pass the time until Marc gets home. When he's done with that and Marc still isn't here, Colt texts him.
Colt: Still at work?
He stares at himself in the mirror. The bruising around his nose is now a dark yellow and brown color. He'd called Sam and told him he was sick this past Friday night, skipping his first Drunk Wizard's show since he'd joined the band years ago. He hated bowing out of a show, but he didn't want the questions. He didn't go to church on Sunday either. In fact, he hasn't left the house since he got the injury. Colt is ready for the bruising to be completely gone. He doesn't want to be reminded of how he got it every time he looks at his reflection.
Out of sight, out of mind.
When there's no reply to his text ten minutes later, Colt lays down in bed and opens his latest book. He doesn't read a word, instead losing himself in his head space until he falls asleep.
**
It's very early the next morning, before most people are up, before the sun has even started to rise, when he slowly wakes up to the sound of the shower running. Colt lays there, listening to the sounds of Marc showering, listening to the water turn off and the curtain pushed aside, listening to Marc brush his teeth.
The bathroom door opens, only briefly flashing bright light into the bedroom before Marc turns the light off. The other man collapses into the bed and pulls the covers up over him.
As Marc wraps himself around Colt, Colt realizes Marc is completely naked. He feels a kiss to his shoulder, up on his neck and back down to his shoulder again.
"You awake, Vanilla?" Marc whispers.
Colt thinks about pretending to be asleep for a few seconds. That's stupid though. Why would he even think about that? "I'm awake. You missed dinner. I was worried about you."
"I did and I'm sorry. I had unexpected business that came up."
"It's fine." Colt says, turning to lie back and look up at the shadow of Marc next to him. "Is everything okay?"
"It's not great, but I'm gonna work to make it better."
"Are you okay?"
"I hate that I fucked up so bad... in every way, with you and with my uncle's business."
"You couldn't have known that someone was gonna break in."
"I should've been more careful. I thought if I kept you mostly separate that no one who I didn't want to know would know about this place." Marc says. "My uncle says they were probably watching me, which means they know about here and about you."
Marc's hand slides down to slip beneath Colt's boxer briefs to his cock, touching him, holding him, stroking him. It feels good.
Colt's fingertips trace lightly over Marc's abdomen. "We're safe now though, right?"
"Security's escort kırşehir (http://www.escortkizrehberi.com/ilan-kategori/kirsehir-escort/) good. No one's getting in here again, baby. You're safe." Marc kisses him then, Colt kisses him back. "Spread your legs."
Colt lifts his hips to press his cock into Marc's touch as he spreads his legs just a little bit. Marc knows how to touch him so good, just right, it's perfect. Colt wonders if he makes Marc feel this good when he does the same. He still feels awkward with all of it. Letting Marc touch him like this has become so easy though.
It's easy until he feels the gentle press of one of Marc's digits in a place where Colt has never been touched before.
Colt gasps and closes his legs, reaching down for Marc's hand and bringing it back up to his cock.
"Not ready yet, Vanilla?"
"No. Not yet."
"I promise that I can make it feel good."
Colt has always known that it might lead to that, or that this thing with Marc would lead to what the other man is suggesting right now. He's not ready for that though. He isn't sure he'll ever be ready.
"Not yet, babe. Please." He can't. He just can't do that yet.
It's a sign that Marc knows that Colt is still not a hundred percent with him since the lost bag incident that Marc doesn't push it further. Colt knows that normally Marc would push it to get his way. Instead, Marc gets on top of him and wraps a hand around both of their cocks to get them both off together.
Colt is thankful to get off with Marc this way. He's thankful that Marc didn't push for something else that he really isn't ready for. Underneath that, he's all nerves that Marc is going to keep asking and that eventually he won't take no for an answer. It's in Marc's blood to take what he wants.
**
The next Friday there's still enough of the yellow-ish bruise on his face for Colt to call Sam again and get out of the performance. He assures him that he'll be ready to go again next Friday. Sam sounds genuinely concerned about him. The band leader even asks if there's something going on that he needs to talk about. Colt assures him that he's fine and he'll see him next Friday.
Colt isn't fine. Sam doesn't question him further.
He hates missing another performance. He's tired of being cooped up in this house. It is what it is though. He doesn't want to have to explain what happened to anyone.
Colt has been here before. He hasn't had to explain away random injuries to anyone in a very long time. He doesn't want to go back to doing that so he hermits himself away until there's nothing to explain.
Marc brings takeout home that Friday. They lounge on the couch together and Marc pours Colt whiskey to drink. Colt dutifully drinks it, feeling more than a little drunk as he leans back against Marc's chest, settled between his legs. Marc has also lit a joint and while Marc has smoked very little of it, he continues to put it to Colt's lips to smoke.
He's browsing Netflix on the TV, the colors spinning in front of him. He's pretty sure he's looked at all the rows of the different genres multiple times. He's been browsing for awhile.
"I know you wanna be at your show tonight, Vanilla. Next week, yeah?" Marc says, combing his fingers through Colt's hair.
"Next week." Colt says, enjoying the feel of Marc's fingers in his kırşehir escort (http://www.escortkizrehberi.com/ilan-kategori/kirsehir-escort/) hair.
"Gotta say I like you being home all the time. I like knowing you're here waiting for me anytime I want to see you... or do other things with you."
"I'm ready to get out of the house."
"We'll need more groceries soon. More whiskey for my baby." Marc kisses the back of Colt's neck. "You can go to the store."
Colt smirks. "I feel like I'm your live-in boyf-... whatever I am."
"So what if you are?" Marc says. "You're mine."
Colt's sluggish mind continues to scroll through the Netflix screen, looking but not seeing. "And you're mine?"
"Yeah, Vanilla. I'm yours." Marc's phone chimes and he answers a few back and forth texts before putting the joint to Colt's lips again. Once Colt has smoked, he speaks again. "Got a friend comin' over. You'll be nice to him, won't you?"
"Why wouldn't I be nice to him?"
"Just say yes." Marc kisses the back of his neck again before putting Colt's whiskey glass in the hand that doesn't have the remote. "And take another drink."
Colt drinks again and gets stuck watching a large promo for a TV series replay again and again at the top of the screen on loop. He vaguely hears a knock at the door and shifts to let Marc move from the couch. When he glances at the newcomer, he sees one of the men he remembers from Amnesia. It's one of the men who watched or guarded he and Marc on the dance floor while they'd danced.
They both lift their chins at one another in greeting before Colt looks back at the TV and starts scrolling again. He'll find something to watch eventually.
Marc and the man are having a conversation that Colt doesn't do a good job of keeping up with.
Marc is settling behind him again, a leg on either side of him. His arms wrap around Colt's waist. "Hey, Vanilla. You remember Jacob?"
"Yeah. He watched us dance. Did you like watchin' us dance?"
Jacob laughs at that. "Damn, you're high as a kite, Colt. How much as he had?"
"Enough." He can hear the smile in Marc's voice. "Drink again, baby."
Colt drinks. The joint is put to his lips and he smokes.
Jacob gets in the way between Colt and the TV, the large man sitting down on the coffee table and opening a case with some kind of contraption in it.
Marc takes the remote from Colt and then pulls him back against him, fingers combing through his hair again. He speaks into his ear from behind. "You can't quit me, can you, Colt?"
Colt shakes his head. While the answer to that question has been muddy for awhile now, right now it seems like there's an obvious answer. "No. I don't wanna quit you."
"I love hearing you say that. I want you to do something for me."
"Mmhm."
"Give Jacob your arm."
Colt holds out his arm to Jacob, who wipes some kind of alcohol swab all over the skin at the inside of his forearm Then the man looks over Colt's shoulder at Marc. "You sure?"
"Yeah. Do it."
Colt is vaguely aware of a sharp pinching sensation in his arm. When he tries to pull his arm away from the discomfort, Jacob and Marc hold him in place until Colt quits fighting it. Then Colt watches, transfixed, as Jacob writes on his skin. The pen he uses buzzes like a bee.
Colt laughs.
"What's so funny, Vanilla?" Marc asks, amusement coloring the question.
"There are bees in our house. How did they get in our house?"
Jacob looks amused with him as he continues to write on him.
Marc kisses the back of Colt's neck. "I won't let them sting you. You're safe with me."
"I'm safe with you." Colt repeats the words. In this moment, it feels like he means them.
There are black roses on the dining room table, a bouquet of them that Marc keeps replenishing since Colt let him back into the house a week ago. Colt stares at them as he waits for the timer to go off so he can take dinner out of the oven. Black roses are beautifully sad, he thinks. Or maybe that's just how he's been feeling lately -- not beautiful, just sad.
Things have been rocky between him and Marc, not from Marc's end, rocky from Colt's end of things. Marc keeps meeting each obstacle Colt gives him and pushing past them until Colt succumbs to him, but then, after awhile, Colt begins to overthink things again. It's become a vicious cycle in his mind.
How did he get here?
It's his fault, he decides. He texted Marc and let him get a foot in the door. How could he have known that that was all that Marc needed to permeate everything in Colt's life? It was over from that moment because Marc is who he is and Colt is who he is. The moment Colt texted him, the moment he let Marc be brave for him, that was it. This was the only possible outcome.
Colt scratches at his beard. He needs to trim it up a bit. He's taken to wearing his hair up in a bun since Marc had used his sandy blond locks against him when he was angry. He'd thought about cutting it off short but Marc had told him that he didn't want that. Marc likes his hair the way it is. It's grown down past his shoulders.
The timer beeps, drawing him out of his thoughts. Colt goes to the oven to open it, sprinkle some cheese on top of the casserole and then put it back in for five more minutes.
He looks up at the corner of the kitchen above the cabinets where he now knows there's a camera. Is Marc watching him now?
He'd asked Marc to remove them. Marc had convinced him they were needed now, now that their house has been broken into, the cameras are needed. Colt couldn't disagree.
A top-notch security system was installed this week. Marc says it was needed as well. Colt couldn't disagree. It freaks him out to think too much about the fact that someone had broken in without their knowing about it. Nothing else was touched as far as he can tell. Nothing else was stolen, just the bag of drugs.
When Colt asked about who was in their house he was told he doesn't need to worry about it anymore. Colt still worries about it, but he didn't press for more. Maybe he should have, but he remembers Marc telling him that it isn't his place.
It's best for him to keep out of it.
Colt doesn't like to think about the things Marc has seen on video without Colt's having known it was going on. He'd seen innocent things like Colt dancing to music and singing loudly to music. Then he'd seen more intimate things; Colt pleasuring himself in bed and in the shower, when he'd gotten himself off on the couch while on the phone with Marc, the day he'd spent naked. Not to mention Colt on his knees numerous times giving Marc blow jobs.
They'd had a long conversation about it. Marc installed the cameras the first time Colt had left him alone at the house. Colt asked if he kept any of the video. Marc admitted that he did. It's the best kind of porn, Marc had said. Then he'd made Colt sit and watch video on his phone, video with Colt on his knees sucking Marc off.
It's strange to see yourself do that, maybe especially so for Colt. It's also an kırşehir escort bayan (http://www.escortkizrehberi.com/ilan-kategori/kirsehir-escort/) eye-opening experience. Watching the video, Colt sees irrefutable evidence that he likes doing the things that Marc and he do together. In a strange, twisted way, he enjoys watching it.
Marc convinced him that no one would see. It was just for him. Then he fed Colt whiskey and they fooled around. Colt succumbed.
The timer beeps again and Colt takes dinner out of the oven to set it on top of the stove. He looks at the clock. Marc isn't home yet. He's usually home by now.
He goes into the bathroom to trim his beard and mustache to pass the time until Marc gets home. When he's done with that and Marc still isn't here, Colt texts him.
Colt: Still at work?
He stares at himself in the mirror. The bruising around his nose is now a dark yellow and brown color. He'd called Sam and told him he was sick this past Friday night, skipping his first Drunk Wizard's show since he'd joined the band years ago. He hated bowing out of a show, but he didn't want the questions. He didn't go to church on Sunday either. In fact, he hasn't left the house since he got the injury. Colt is ready for the bruising to be completely gone. He doesn't want to be reminded of how he got it every time he looks at his reflection.
Out of sight, out of mind.
When there's no reply to his text ten minutes later, Colt lays down in bed and opens his latest book. He doesn't read a word, instead losing himself in his head space until he falls asleep.
**
It's very early the next morning, before most people are up, before the sun has even started to rise, when he slowly wakes up to the sound of the shower running. Colt lays there, listening to the sounds of Marc showering, listening to the water turn off and the curtain pushed aside, listening to Marc brush his teeth.
The bathroom door opens, only briefly flashing bright light into the bedroom before Marc turns the light off. The other man collapses into the bed and pulls the covers up over him.
As Marc wraps himself around Colt, Colt realizes Marc is completely naked. He feels a kiss to his shoulder, up on his neck and back down to his shoulder again.
"You awake, Vanilla?" Marc whispers.
Colt thinks about pretending to be asleep for a few seconds. That's stupid though. Why would he even think about that? "I'm awake. You missed dinner. I was worried about you."
"I did and I'm sorry. I had unexpected business that came up."
"It's fine." Colt says, turning to lie back and look up at the shadow of Marc next to him. "Is everything okay?"
"It's not great, but I'm gonna work to make it better."
"Are you okay?"
"I hate that I fucked up so bad... in every way, with you and with my uncle's business."
"You couldn't have known that someone was gonna break in."
"I should've been more careful. I thought if I kept you mostly separate that no one who I didn't want to know would know about this place." Marc says. "My uncle says they were probably watching me, which means they know about here and about you."
Marc's hand slides down to slip beneath Colt's boxer briefs to his cock, touching him, holding him, stroking him. It feels good.
Colt's fingertips trace lightly over Marc's abdomen. "We're safe now though, right?"
"Security's escort kırşehir (http://www.escortkizrehberi.com/ilan-kategori/kirsehir-escort/) good. No one's getting in here again, baby. You're safe." Marc kisses him then, Colt kisses him back. "Spread your legs."
Colt lifts his hips to press his cock into Marc's touch as he spreads his legs just a little bit. Marc knows how to touch him so good, just right, it's perfect. Colt wonders if he makes Marc feel this good when he does the same. He still feels awkward with all of it. Letting Marc touch him like this has become so easy though.
It's easy until he feels the gentle press of one of Marc's digits in a place where Colt has never been touched before.
Colt gasps and closes his legs, reaching down for Marc's hand and bringing it back up to his cock.
"Not ready yet, Vanilla?"
"No. Not yet."
"I promise that I can make it feel good."
Colt has always known that it might lead to that, or that this thing with Marc would lead to what the other man is suggesting right now. He's not ready for that though. He isn't sure he'll ever be ready.
"Not yet, babe. Please." He can't. He just can't do that yet.
It's a sign that Marc knows that Colt is still not a hundred percent with him since the lost bag incident that Marc doesn't push it further. Colt knows that normally Marc would push it to get his way. Instead, Marc gets on top of him and wraps a hand around both of their cocks to get them both off together.
Colt is thankful to get off with Marc this way. He's thankful that Marc didn't push for something else that he really isn't ready for. Underneath that, he's all nerves that Marc is going to keep asking and that eventually he won't take no for an answer. It's in Marc's blood to take what he wants.
**
The next Friday there's still enough of the yellow-ish bruise on his face for Colt to call Sam again and get out of the performance. He assures him that he'll be ready to go again next Friday. Sam sounds genuinely concerned about him. The band leader even asks if there's something going on that he needs to talk about. Colt assures him that he's fine and he'll see him next Friday.
Colt isn't fine. Sam doesn't question him further.
He hates missing another performance. He's tired of being cooped up in this house. It is what it is though. He doesn't want to have to explain what happened to anyone.
Colt has been here before. He hasn't had to explain away random injuries to anyone in a very long time. He doesn't want to go back to doing that so he hermits himself away until there's nothing to explain.
Marc brings takeout home that Friday. They lounge on the couch together and Marc pours Colt whiskey to drink. Colt dutifully drinks it, feeling more than a little drunk as he leans back against Marc's chest, settled between his legs. Marc has also lit a joint and while Marc has smoked very little of it, he continues to put it to Colt's lips to smoke.
He's browsing Netflix on the TV, the colors spinning in front of him. He's pretty sure he's looked at all the rows of the different genres multiple times. He's been browsing for awhile.
"I know you wanna be at your show tonight, Vanilla. Next week, yeah?" Marc says, combing his fingers through Colt's hair.
"Next week." Colt says, enjoying the feel of Marc's fingers in his kırşehir escort (http://www.escortkizrehberi.com/ilan-kategori/kirsehir-escort/) hair.
"Gotta say I like you being home all the time. I like knowing you're here waiting for me anytime I want to see you... or do other things with you."
"I'm ready to get out of the house."
"We'll need more groceries soon. More whiskey for my baby." Marc kisses the back of Colt's neck. "You can go to the store."
Colt smirks. "I feel like I'm your live-in boyf-... whatever I am."
"So what if you are?" Marc says. "You're mine."
Colt's sluggish mind continues to scroll through the Netflix screen, looking but not seeing. "And you're mine?"
"Yeah, Vanilla. I'm yours." Marc's phone chimes and he answers a few back and forth texts before putting the joint to Colt's lips again. Once Colt has smoked, he speaks again. "Got a friend comin' over. You'll be nice to him, won't you?"
"Why wouldn't I be nice to him?"
"Just say yes." Marc kisses the back of his neck again before putting Colt's whiskey glass in the hand that doesn't have the remote. "And take another drink."
Colt drinks again and gets stuck watching a large promo for a TV series replay again and again at the top of the screen on loop. He vaguely hears a knock at the door and shifts to let Marc move from the couch. When he glances at the newcomer, he sees one of the men he remembers from Amnesia. It's one of the men who watched or guarded he and Marc on the dance floor while they'd danced.
They both lift their chins at one another in greeting before Colt looks back at the TV and starts scrolling again. He'll find something to watch eventually.
Marc and the man are having a conversation that Colt doesn't do a good job of keeping up with.
Marc is settling behind him again, a leg on either side of him. His arms wrap around Colt's waist. "Hey, Vanilla. You remember Jacob?"
"Yeah. He watched us dance. Did you like watchin' us dance?"
Jacob laughs at that. "Damn, you're high as a kite, Colt. How much as he had?"
"Enough." He can hear the smile in Marc's voice. "Drink again, baby."
Colt drinks. The joint is put to his lips and he smokes.
Jacob gets in the way between Colt and the TV, the large man sitting down on the coffee table and opening a case with some kind of contraption in it.
Marc takes the remote from Colt and then pulls him back against him, fingers combing through his hair again. He speaks into his ear from behind. "You can't quit me, can you, Colt?"
Colt shakes his head. While the answer to that question has been muddy for awhile now, right now it seems like there's an obvious answer. "No. I don't wanna quit you."
"I love hearing you say that. I want you to do something for me."
"Mmhm."
"Give Jacob your arm."
Colt holds out his arm to Jacob, who wipes some kind of alcohol swab all over the skin at the inside of his forearm Then the man looks over Colt's shoulder at Marc. "You sure?"
"Yeah. Do it."
Colt is vaguely aware of a sharp pinching sensation in his arm. When he tries to pull his arm away from the discomfort, Jacob and Marc hold him in place until Colt quits fighting it. Then Colt watches, transfixed, as Jacob writes on his skin. The pen he uses buzzes like a bee.
Colt laughs.
"What's so funny, Vanilla?" Marc asks, amusement coloring the question.
"There are bees in our house. How did they get in our house?"
Jacob looks amused with him as he continues to write on him.
Marc kisses the back of Colt's neck. "I won't let them sting you. You're safe with me."
"I'm safe with you." Colt repeats the words. In this moment, it feels like he means them.