Date: Thu, 23 Jan 2014 07:32:44 +0700
From: Robert Glass <robxglass@gmail.com>
Subject: Marc and Luke chapter 2

All right reserved. Any unauthorized use is prohibited. This is a
fiction. Any resemblance to people and/or events is coincidental. If
reading this deemed illegal to you, I implore you to stop. If it offends
you, please do not read on.

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CHAPTER 2: Your Mouth is Hiding


Long story short, we date. Not as often as I would like but at least we
do. Once or twice a week for the past month is not enough to mend my
reputation. Not only do I have to make Luke see that I'm good in bed, I
also have to prove that I am indeed intellectually compelling. It gets hard
especially because every time I want to have a conversational date he
always finds a way to turn it into an unimpressive sex. Is my personality
worse than my skills in fucking?

Tonight is going to be different; I'm going to be an interesting person and
then I'm going to fuck the cum out of him!

It's running pretty smooth thus far. We're dining at my apartment, I cooked
us ravioli. Yeah, I can make ravioli from scratch. It was delicious, at
least he said so. And we talk; no, I talk. I explain to him about my
doctoral research on microbiology. I can't tell if he actually understands
what I'm saying or he just nods.  Change the subject?

I change the subject several times. It's necessary. I don't want to bore
him out by talking about bacteria.  I tell him the exact date of my
birthday 30 years ago; he only tells me that he's 28. I tell him about how
I managed to receive several grants here and there to add to my personal
funding; he only tells me he's on scholarship. I tell him about my home
town, New Orleans, and about growing up with my family in my other home
town, Plymouth. In return he gives me nothing back. I still don't know
where he's from. I don't even know his major or which university he's going
to. Should I ask him? Then again, he's not telling it for a reason, right?

Change the subject?

"I've been dying to ask you, how did you know about... my background? I
mean, I didn't tell you anything, did I?" It's the truth, I've been
wondering.

"I'm kind of obsessed with New Orleans. Everything is so charming there,
including the accent. That's how I know. And that's how I didn't know you
are originally from Minnesota."

"Okay..." He's addressing the whole thing. Should I ask? "And the sex
thing?"

He looks at me and smirks. "Seriously? You don't know?"

"Yeah?" I must've looked incredulous.

He grins, very much teasing me. "You're pretty loud when you fuck, and out
of control, too. You must've not realized about the things you were
saying."

"What did I say?" I really don't know.

"'You like it? You like my dick in your pussy? Beg for it, boy! Beg me to
fuck the shit out of your slutty ass! Take my fucking cock you fucking
slut!'" he mimics. "Something along that line."

Needless to say, it's raining red paint on my face. Change the subject?

Wait! He laughs!! Oh my Lord, to hear that laughter again. I'm so into
him. When was the last time I look forward to someone's smile or laughter
or any movement that particular person's mouth do? I can't remember when
because it never happened. Luke is my first. That's the reason I'm working
so hard to get him. He's my first and I'm so curious about it. Why haven't
I feel this way before? Why haven't I want to curl up next to anyone after
sex? It's almost impossible for a person, even with my sexual kinks, not to
have that feeling. It's not impossible.

Luke is impossible. I tell him everything and he gives me nothing in
return.

"Why are you looking grave? Are you thinking of something to say?" he
asks. I trailed off, never happened before. Before Luke, that is.

"Well..." He's honest, maybe he'll appreciate honesty. "Well, I've been
busting my nut here trying to tell you about who I am. However, I haven't
heard much about you. From the way you're replying me, I think you want to
keep them private, for whatever reason. I don't want to pry too much on
your private life here but this feels so one-sided."

"Wow, considerate. I don't know how a keeper like you don't have a
boyfriend yet." He's taunting me.  "Oh yeah. You don't do boyfriends."

It's a correct observation, despite its malicious delivery. Should I
confirm it? If I do, it would mean that I'm saying that I don't want him to
be my boyfriend when in fact I want him to be. If I don't confirm, it would
mean that I'm not being honest. "Not until now." Fuck, I'm being too
forward here!

"You're a strange thing, you know? I guess having your sexual preferences
forces you to understand if someone you're eyeing for is not into the same
thing. Sex is a part of a successful relationship after all. I know you
know that there's no point in 'training' someone to be your sub if he's
just not into it. You know damn well that I'm not into it. So why now?"

"Um..."

"Be honest," he demands.

"Are you sure?"

"As brutal as you can be," he says.

Let's take a deep breath.

"First of all you're not my type, physically. You're neither extremely
effeminate nor extremely masculine, which are what I always go to. You're
also not a sub or a Dom. You were completely right with your observation a
while back. You're uh... a little... slightly overweight..."

"You can just say that I'm fat."

"Slightly overweight," I insist. "And I always go for skinny or fit
guys. But then you talk, endlessly. I can't stop listening to you. I just
want you to tell me everything that's in your mind. I don't even understand
why. You just drag me in that night. You are beyond interesting, beyond
smart. Your mind is just so sexy and it transcends the physical realm. Then
you completely stopped. That leaves me curious and wanting more. I know you
said that you don't do mind games but I feel like you are. You keep me
hanging on to you for I don't know what reason. You say time and again that
sex with me is disappointing but you keep on doing that. What's the deal
here, Luke? What are you doing to me?"

"I don't know if I should be flattered or insulted." He chuckles. I laugh
nervously. Maybe I got a little too intense there. I even used silly words
like 'transcends' and 'realm', which would be hot if he's the one who said
it.

"I'm serious, Luke. What are you doing?" I ask.

"Can I be honest?"

"It's only fair."

"I like the attention." He smiles awkwardly, shifts a bit on his seat, and
sips the white wine, the best one I could find. "That time in the bar, I
was expecting to score but I didn't expect to score you. Honestly, a fat
fuck like me gets the attention a guy like you are giving is
unprecedented. A guy like you doesn't go out with a guy like me. You said
it yourself; I'm not your type. Then there's the sex thing. Okay, I'll
admit that the sex wasn't all that disappointing. It's good enough, but not
mind-blowing. You can't possibly say that the sex is THAT awesome. You're a
dominant top, I'm a completely vanilla guy. You want to do the things you
usually do and I can't give you that.

"Then you said you like me. I know that it's a misconstrued notion. You
just want me because you can't get me. Frankly, I still don't want you to
get me. Because once I run out of the things that make me interesting to
you, you will see me for who I am and you will leave. That's why I
withheld."

"So... you don't like me?" I asked, not really clear on his position with
things.

"Are you kidding me? Of course I like you. You're smart, you're hot, you're
sensitive, you're kind, you can cook, and you play guitar!"

I don't understand. "So why are you doing what you're doing?"

"Didn't you hear me? I don't want you to get me." I'm still confused, I
guess it shows. "You're not going to find me interesting anymore once I
start being my full self. You're going to hate me. But I like you and I
enjoy the attention you're giving me and I don't want you to hate me. I
want things to stay like this, not escalading to
something... frightening. I just want you to like me long enough before
things start to implode."

I still don't understand what he's saying! What the fuck is he saying? "So
you're just using me?"

"For God's sake, no!" He's frustrated. For the first time I don't see him
flash that infectious smile. "You know what, if it makes it easier, yes,
I'm using you." He stands up, I panic. "Thank you for the lovely
dinner. Goodbye." He bolts.

I bolt! He's not leaving like this. He can't leave me wondering what I did
wrong. "Luke! Stop." I grabbed his arm. This time he didn't give me that
wicked look. It was desperation in his eyes. He really wanted to leave and
I wasn't going to let him. "Please, stay. I really don't get what you're
saying, maybe because you're just too smart for me or something. But
please, stay, and make me understand. Please."

He sighed, it crushed me. "Can you just let me go?"

"No." Of course I can't just let him go. Especially now that I've seen
another glimpse of him, a sneak peek of something that he dubbed as
uninteresting. "What can be so bad and make me hate you."

"I've said too much."

"You haven't said enough," I demand.

He gently grazed his palm on my clutching hand. He sighed again. "Marc. I'm
insecure, as it is now apparent. The talk that you coveted so much was just
a fluke. It was just my way to shed the nervousness that I got from meeting
a guy like you. I can't believe you can't see through that. I'm not all fun
and talkative; I'm in fact quiet and boring. I'm not smart. I'm not who you
think I am. And as I have stressed so many times, we are not sexually
compatible. This will end nowhere. Please, just let me go."

"No," I say sternly. "I want to make this work."

"Why, Marc? You know this is doomed."

"Not if we work it out. I love you, Luke." What did I just say? WHAT THE
FUCK DID I JUST SAY?? I don't say that kind of stupid sappy shit! What
the...

"That's a premature statement." He sighs.

Now I'm angry. Does he know the amount of pain he's given me or the kind of
conviction I needed to say 'I love you' to someone I barely know? How can
he dismiss my honesty when he said he live by it? He's such a
hypocrite. I'm so fucking angry and I know he can tell. "God dammit, Luke!"

"You don't even know me, Marc." A fact. A scientist like me cannot deny a
fact as austere as that.

I let go of him, finally. I don't know how to get through to him. I don't
even realize that I started fidgeting around him. "Then let me know you,
Luke. At least give me the chance to prove that I said it prematurely."

"Marc..."

"Luke. Please, for the love of God, sit down with me for a while and tell
me... anything. Whatever you're comfortable telling me."

He leans on the door, sighing, looking at the ceiling. I keep my distance,
I figured he needs it. "How the hell did this swerved out of control?" He
mumbles.

Things indeed swerved out of control. He didn't expect that, I guess. I'm
sure I didn't. How the hell did a romantic dinner with my world-famous
ravioli turn into such an emotional mess? After a minute he finally let go
of that door. His steps are doubtful as it brings him to the couch. I
follow him. He's standing over the couch. I guess sitting down would mean
that he's committed to unravel a facade of some sort.  It can't be that
bad, right?

Well he sits and I follow suit. Of course with a distance between us.

"I'm insecure, Marc," he repeats. "It's disgusting, I know. I was made to
know. Nobody likes an insecure guy that complains a lot. I don't know why
you still want to chase me. I'm fat and ugly and insecure."

"You're not."

"Come on, Marc. I'm insecure, not imbecile. If it wasn't for my coat, you
wouldn't even approach me."  He sighs. It's true, that stupid coat is good
on him. "That's why I talked so much on so many topics; to compensate for
what I lack. I thought maybe if I made myself seem intellectually more
interesting, people will forget that I look like... this, and find me
attractive. It definitely worked on you, God knows how."

"What are you talking about? You ARE intellectually interesting." I flash a
smile, maybe it will work. It doesn't.

"No I'm not," he reaffirms. "You'll see."

"Luke, you are the most intelligent man I've ever been with. You know by
now that I don't care about how you look or how you act. I... I like you,
just like this."

"Translation: you're actually an ugly faggot but I can look past that for
now." he says. My face changes.  He sees that. "I'm sorry. Snark, a method
of self-defense."

"It's okay." I'm readable after all. "I really like you, okay. You're
physically not my type, it's true, but I still think you're hot. I only
like hot guys."

"What? You don't 'love' me anymore?"

"I don't even know you," I mimicked.

"You don't."

"I like you, then." I smile, maybe this time it will work. Thank God it
does. The smile he uses to return mine makes my knees quiver.

"If you want to date me, you should find someone on the side just so you
can have sex normally." Why did he even propose that? Haven't I made my
intention clear?

"I just want to be with you. Nobody else."

He looks at me, long enough to see the truth, seemingly never finds
one. What do I have to do to convince him?

I kiss him, tender and long, like I'm nibbling his lips with mine. I see
him smile when I let go. That's a good sign.

"Do you want to continue this?" I ask.

"This date or this relationship?"

"Both."

He shakes his head. Is it a no or is it an
I-cannot-believe-the-way-things-are-progressing? It's the latter. I almost
lost my heart there. I thought he would find the idea unappealing. Man, I
don't know how to read this guy sometimes. Maybe it's the fact that I
really, really, really like him that clouded my judgment. Okay, okay. I
love him, so much. I fell in love with him long ago. I told him that and he
didn't take it well. What am I going to do about that? Shove it down his
throat? Of course not!

"This date has made a wrong turn, don't you think?" he asks.

"The way I see it, it's the right turn." My smile works again this time.

Long story short, we ended up on my bed, fully clothed. I've never done
this before. Like he said, I'm not the relationship kind of guy; I just
fuck around. I got lucky once and find myself a regular fuck buddy back in
New Orleans. He's an awesome sub, our sex was spectacular. Yeah, Luke was
right. The sex with Luke wasn't spectacular, only the orgasms were. But
hey, that's the point of sex right? Having a spectacular orgasm worth more
than the excitement of fucking someone dominantly. Besides, I like the
cuddling. I can't believe I didn't do this earlier. Cuddling is lovely,
comfortable and fulfilling. I guess if I did it earlier I would find a
boyfriend way sooner. Let's forget about that for a while; I have Luke now!

___

What do you guys think? It's pretty similar to The Virgin Joseph where one
is shy and the other is aggressive. Different too in the sense that sex
comes early in their relationship. As usual, you can email me at
robxglass@gmail.com or visit my tumblr at xglass.tumblr.com.

If you're interested, I have another story: /beginnings/the-virgin-joseph/

Cheers!