Mark and I have been driving in this car for hours, and after sleeping on and off, gazing out the window to see trees and buildings and day dreaming of whatever came to mind, I decide I want truth.

'Mark tell me, I need to know, it's killing me not to know. And I don't give a fuck if those assholes start to shoot us down with a fucking bazooka I need you to keep talking.' I said this all with a smile on my face.

The fact that we were being chased by druggies meant nothing to me as long as Mark is okay, I don't care and I've never panicked when danger was around me nothing was as bad as when my parents were killed.

He turned to me and glared into my eyes the same way I glared into his when I began to tell him about myself. He started to speak.

'When I was young, my mother and father were the best, like they are now. They took care of me and nurtured me but I rebelled against everything they told me to do I'm not sure why but I was never good with orders. Anyway I started hanging around with the wrong kids around age thirteen and I started smoking and drinking. I remember when I was fifteen, I was at this party having an awesome time getting high and smoking and drinking with all these people that were way over my head and way older than me but I could still out high most of them there. I was proud of myself for being able to consume more than they could without barfing or getting sick. But then everything went wrong.-'

He looked at the road almost dazed in his own words and squinted as if he was thinking too hard.

'Out of nowhere the front door soars off its hinges while about six big ass cops point their guns at everyone in the room. At that moment about twenty people were able to make it out of the house but the rest, including me, were trapped in shit cuz' the cops wanted to see ALL of our ideas. They said no one else was to leave so everybody stood there, dumbfounded. So the middle aged 'law enforcement' roamed the room shaking people down for anything and everything they had and then one of them got to me, he told me to pull out some identification and I asked him, 'why the hell are you harassing a room full of teens and twenty year olds instead of actually protecting people who actually need your help? Isn't that what fat ass cops are supposed to do?' I said it... Just. Like. That.'

Mark punctuated the last three words as if they were their own sentences.

'Apparently saying stupid shit did not help, especially when he discovered I had no ID and only fifteen years old. In the end all the under aged kids and some of the adults were taken to jail and my parents had to come get me. They were so ashamed but I thought I was a hard ass and that it was so cool that I went to jail. 'He laughed solemnly. 'And it wasn't even jail really. It was just a large gated room in an office building. I just wanted more trouble. Sad part is... I don't even know why.'

He glanced at me with teary eyes and said his next sentence like it hurt to even mention it.

'And that's when... that's when the drugs came in.'

'The same guys I had been hanging with said they knew a quick way to get cash and get high at the same time and that I getting caught at the party proved I was the real deal. This didn't really make much sense. So I agreed to skip school to go with them and we entered this guy's house and there was a load of people already stacked in there, they were doing drugs I'd never even seen before and more drugs I'd never even considered doing. I was amazed and scared at the same time.'

By this time he had a lost look on his face as he casually watched the white painted lines on the road flash beneath the car.

'We walked upstairs into this room where this guy sat behind this desk; he didn't look much older than twenty years old. His face was long and pale and he looked pretty good to be a drug dealer only he was more than that, he was a dealer, a supplier and an addict like everyone else in the building. He snorted a line of coke and looked at me with glassy dark eyes and then glanced at one of my so called friends and asked,

'This him...?''

One of them replied in a shaky voice 'yeah... uh... this is Mar-'

I stopped him because I didn't want this weirdo to know my actual name.

'My name is, my name is Mario.'

'Hi Mario' he replied. 'sit'.

He gestured towards a chair while still holding a thin clean razor blade. I noticed his razor blade seemed in better shape than the people that were downstairs, theirs were rusty and the drugs they were using smelled.... Bad, everything around them seemed bad and old and used. His drugs smelled like mint condition drugs, the good stuff, it even looked better.

He pulled out a wad of money and handed it to me. He asked me if I wanted to make doe like that on a daily basis and of course I said yes. He told me I'd start in a week and he'd have my supplies by then, he even offered me some of his drugs and like a dumb ass I snorted like there was no tomorrow. It was a much different high then the two second buzz I would get from cheap inhalants and a stronger feeling than that of weed which I only had the money and resources for every so often. He said he liked me better than all his other stooges because I had no fear and I said whatever came to my head. I was never a kiss ass. He liked confidence...only he thrilled in the likes of cockiness and he was full of it.'

Mark drew a long breath and paused.

'So a week later I started selling all kinds of drugs.'

He looked at me. I guess to check my reaction. I had no idea what expression I was wearing on my face but I assume it was a bad one because he grabbed my hand and held it tight. And I remained on his every word.

'So I started out really good and was making more money than my parents combined within less than a month. I told them I got a job with some really awkward hours and they asked no questions about it, they never even asked me what the damn job was....

God they trusted me way too much.'

He winced a little, so 'I lifted his hand to my lips and kissed it softly.

I kept thinking, 'I love him so much.'

He continued...

'Then I let it all get to my head, I started to DO more drugs than I SOLD and I was in debt. Anyway, Derek, my supplier, liked me (he even wanted me to personally call him Derek because he had others call him by a different name but I'm not sure what it was). The fact that he liked me only kept me protected for so long. In fact he was my first blow job giving and receiving but it meant nothing after I started consuming his money. He was being harassed by the drug bosses above him and the fact that we had a connection only kept him from killing me. His men and some other guys' men chose to beat me. They beat me so bad; I was in so much pain. There was so much blood and I was so freaked when I found that it was all mine. I was outside of the drug house on the ground, lying in a puddle of blood as the guys circled around my body and kicked me so hard. My rib cage was shattered and I remember... my hand... my hand was broken and I couldn't move it, my eyes were swollen shut, and I couldn't see anything but at the first chance I got I ran, hard and fast. I remember blood running down my face, it burned my eyes. I realized I had some other broken bones because parts of my body weren't really moving like they should have been but... I didn't pay any attention to it because I knew I had to get away. Derek's men had stopped chasing me but the other guys were so... relentless.'

Tears started to steak down his face.

'I ran so hard I couldn't breathe and Instead of going home I went to my school, I hadn't been in months. I slept on the outside bleachers furthest in the field. I was so sorry but the damage was already done. I stopped caring...'

His voice lowered and then rose in volume in order for his mouth to stay in rhythm with his thoughts.

Even though I quit selling, I was a drug addict for years after that. I did anything I could to get my hands on something, on anything addictive. You name a drug, I've done it. I even went to the hospital once for overdose, I can't even remember what it was I OD-ed on but I begged anyone who came in my room for prescription pills or morphine... only they knew better. They gave me water and food. I couldn't stop doing drugs; I couldn't stop thinking about drugs. My parents, as wonderful as they were, finally had the strength and the sense to send me away to a rehab center. I recovered, relapsed, recovered, was hooked on weed, relapsed completely and then recovered again and it actually stuck. Then I met you and then I got you into all this bullshit, this mess. I got you into my problems.'

He looked at me sincerely and I brushed his bangs from his eyes. I never thought of any of this being just his problem, I thought of it as our problem, our enemies, and our mess

'Babe,' I said. 'I was in this a long time ago.'

He glanced back at the road.

'Good. Well not good that you are in this but good that you're not upset-'

He stopped in the middle of his sentence and glanced behind my head in the passenger seat.

'OH SHIT!' he yelled.

I looked behind me to find the grill of a massive SUV only a few feet away from my door.

Time slowed down.

I heard something click from Mark's direction.

'Blake!' I heard my name being called faintly; I mostly heard my heartbeat pounding in the drums of my ears. I heard another faint click beside me and felt familiar arms engulf my chest and forcefully yank my body away from the door followed by a loud burst of sounds, screeching metals and tires, the sound of my own voice projecting from within me. I heard glass shatter as the world swirled into a mass of dark colors, a blur of scenery through broken windows. Mark was holding me and had unlocked both of our seat belts and pulled me over to him, keeping me from being completely slammed into. He was squeezing me the tightest he ever had before. The car tumbled at least eight times, at first, for some reason, I counted then I just closed my eyes and wished for it all to end. Our car tumbled down the road, there weren't too many people driving so no one but us and the guy who rammed us were hurt. It went so fast and yet, went so slow. Mark and I ricocheted off the small walls in the car, creating new dents as other fractures began to form on the outside of the car.

When it was all over the car laid on its roof crushed unevenly and Mark still had his arms around me and luckily still conscious only his eyes were sealed shut so tightly his eyelids and forehead were nothing but wrinkled flesh.

'Hey... hey... Mark get up. We have to go see if the person that hit us is okay.'

He released his eyes. 'Oh, he's perfectly fine.'

'What makes you say that?' he pointed his head towards the SUV that laid beside our black vehicle and you could see a small figure running away from the accident while their car door swung to a stop.

'HEY!' I screamed at the figure.

Then I looked back at Mark, 'Isn't that a bitch' Mark laughed or at least tried to. His arm was stuck in a deep crevice, in what used to be the dashboard.

'Ah,' he made a sizzling sound with his mouth. 'That hurts.'

I placed my hand on his arm a yanked it, his response was a sudden knee-jerk.

'Ahhsszz!' Watch it bitch!' he yelled.

I laughed in response. 'Maybe you shouldn't have gotten your shit all caught up in a fuckin' dashboard. Then I bet I wouldn't be trying to snatch your damn arm out the newly made glove compartment.'

It was his turn to laugh. Exactly what I was waiting for, the second he laughed I grabbed his arm with both my hands, quickly, and heaved it from the dent.

He screamed... like a girl... a little.

He was giggling and crying at the same time. 'AH...!' Oh God! You're a fuckin' smart ass!'

It was badly sprained and possibly fractured. That's when I noticed the blood dripping from my forehead; I had this huge cut that scared the shit out of me. It was deep and it just tingled really, it didn't hurt like you'd think it would.

I touched it carefully and mark made a comment.

'Yeah I saw that but I didn't think I should tell you because I didn't want you to freak. Cuz' that's not a cut that's another glove compartment dent, only on your face. Mo-fo scary.'

I smirked nervously.

Then a problem arose...a weird, very familiar scent tingled my nose, it was really strong. It was gasoline.

'Mark! Mark! Come on we have to get out of the car! Like, right now!'

'What? What are you talking about? I know we have to get out eventually but I kinda like just sitting here...and... I'm in pain.'

'OMG just get.... ah fuck.'

I didn't have time to explain it to him so I crawled quickly through the glass and blackened concrete. When my whole body made it out I noticed and felt a lengthened cut stretching down my calf but at the moment I had no time to study it. I grabbed mark by his shoulders and pulled as hard as possible lunging about three feet away from the car; and landing on my back with mark on top of me, back first as well.

'Farther.' I whispered to myself.

'What.' he replied.

I pulled him up from the ground and encouraged him to run. I grabbed his hand as we jumped into a ditch off the side of the road about 20 yards away from the vehicle.

'What? What?! What?! What is it?' he asked

'Why did we have to run? Why are we in a ditch?'

I peeked out over the grass and thought, 'what the fuck?' The car was just sitting there.

I sighed with relief and a little embarrassment.

'Heh, I thought it was gonna-'

Then, in mid-sentence, you heard the sound of a car exploding. Plain and simple, there's no other way to explain what it sounded like other than the truth. It felt like the ground was shaking.

'Well, I thought that was gonna happen.'

'Well shit,' he said. 'That's why I love you.'

He grabbed my hand and we crawled out of the ditch and walked away from the wreckage.

I thought about what just happened and laughed as we strolled into the hospital.

Two, in love, bloody, misunderstood, gay scene boys walking into a hospital from a car accident that occurred running away from drug dealers and do-ers.' What a life I had now. We both sat in the hospital waiting room wondering why we were waiting in the emergency room, when no one else was really there besides a distressed woman and a little girl and a man dressed like a hobo that seemed to have a concussion of some sort. He kept dosing off and waking himself up again. They finally gave us a room and even though Mark was busted up, he had a fractured arm, bruises all over his body, and a small cut by his eye, he made sure everyone we passed by in the hallway knew that we were a couple. I just laughed about it. He'd either hold my hand or kiss me softly or just flat out tell the person 'I'm Gay! And I love this man!' I laughed hysterically when he did that. I watched their reactions.

Some people thought it was sweet while others thought it disgusting. Some people he told responded with an 'I don't give a fuck' facial expression. There was this group of guys who were obviously queer and they lifted up their shirts and yelled 'Rainbow Pride!' down the hallway. It was so funny.

When we got to the room, Mark gave me the bed because my leg was cut up but I asked him to join me and we sat there and talked about things, about more of our pasts and where we expect to be in the future when the doctor came in and gave us a quizzical look.

'Are you guys....?' he said.

'Gay?' Mark asked.

'Yeah, are you?' the Doc questioned.


He smiled and nodded. 'Cool'

I already liked him.

'My name is Doctor Sean Teagues and I'll be your doctor this evening. So... the nurse told me you were in a car accident down the road?'

'Yeah' I replied. 'It was bad, a little freaky, but we're okay.'

'Alrighty then, let's get started.'

He came over to us and checked me first. He didn't even ask Mark to get out of the bed. He carefully grabbed my leg and examined it, it needed bandages but no stitches and he wrapped it up with some heavy gauze. Then he checked my head which I had been covering in boat full of tissues.

Unfortunately it need stitches. I was pissed, that shit was uncomfortable. And, I got a fuckin tetanus shot! I swear, if Mark wasn't holding me down and trying to keep me calm, I would have police kicked the shit out of that fuckin doctor. It would've been a shame because Sean was cute too, really cute. Mark and I talked about it whenever he left the room.

After he patched Mark up with a thin cask and some bandages as well, we talked to him. He had great dark highlighted hair that he let pretty much go anywhere, bed head style. He was in his mid-twenties, and had gorgeous hazel eyes and great lips. He body was... speechless hot, face was flawless.

'You're lucky' he said.

'Why?' I asked. 'Is it because we didn't die?'

'Hmm, no... it's actually because you didn't get Doctor Roberts.' He leaned in closer (much closer, nice closer) and whispered practically in my brain. 'HE IS A DICK... and can't stand gays. He probably would have taken that tetanus needle and made that already painful shit, fucking excruciating for you. I've seen him do it.'

My eyes widened at the thought of it being worse.

'Well then, cheers to Doctor Teagues!' Mark stated.

We all laughed.

Still whispering, he continued.

'And you probably would have done more than attempt to kick him in the chest like you did me. Trust me, you would have. Though, I personally would not have hated you for it!'

'Ha! Yeah cause I was so prepared to launch you across the room!' I laughed. 'Sorry about that by the way.'

'No prob, I'm used to it, your reaction wasn't unexpected.'

Then another doctor walked in, he would have been okay looking but he hair was scarily receded and his face, horribly blemished. Don't even get me started on his dry lips. He was nowhere near as cute as Sean. He pointed to Mark and I, 'You're the gays right?'

He had an overly maniacal smile on his face.

'Umm...yeaaahh.... Why?'

He went back outside without an answer. T hat's when Sean told us that he was Doctor Roberts.

Instantly I was curious so I got up but before my feet even touched the ground Mark pressed me back down on the bed and got up and went out the door, he was gone for about ten minutes when he came back breathing excitedly.

He looked at me abruptly.

'Umm, Blake, sweetie, honey-bear, we have to leave like right now.'

I'd totally forgotten we were on the fucking run.

Turns out the drug fucks were in the hospital looking for us and that ass hole was going to tell them where we were. That's when Mark told me he hit the snitch in the face, threatened him not to say a damn thing and then locked him in a closet a floor below us. All I could say was:


He shrugged. 'Well...' was his response.

'We have about fifteen minute's tops until we are found. There are like seven of them and I'm sure there are more.'

I got up, surprisingly very well despite the cut on my leg and I could even run without it hurting too much, which was good for the situation, though I had one more thing to do first.

'Umm, Doctor Teagues...'

'Call me Sean.' He said sexily.

'Sean, I don't know too much about you but we was wondering if Mark and If we could uh... kiss you?'

'Yeah sure, I was hoping at least one of you would try heh.'

So I approached him and pressed my body against his chest, slowly, (as if we weren't being hunt down) and pushed my lips up to his. They were so soft. His jaw opened slightly and his tongue passed my lips and read my mouth in detail. I did the same for him. It was anything close to the magic of Mark's kisses but it sure was something. Mark then came up from the side and somehow we were all kissing each other at the same time for much longer than fifteen minutes, with Marks tongue intertwined in the jumble of mouth flesh, I was majorly excited. In fact I was excited enough to begin lifting Mark's shirt. I assumed he was too, he was helping me. Sean put his hand under my shirt when a strange man opened the door, one of the druggies.

'Hey guys! I foun-'

Mark and I snatched him in the room and pressed him against the wall. He didn't look like a bad guy, in fact he appeared average. No massive scar cutting down his face but instead a light bristle of hair across his jaw, and young dark eyes. He looked like a sweetheart. I found myself calmly grazing my hand down his face. I was sorry for what followed, I even said it. 'I'm sorry.' BAM! I struck him in the back of his head; he was still alive just 'sleeping'. I then took his car keys. Sean didn't know what to think.

'It's okay' I said. 'Don't be alarmed but we have to leave, where's the closest exit?'

'Well in risk of getting beat the FUCK up by two homos.' He said with a confused grin. 'It's down elevator seven, to your left.'

'Thanks.' I paused. 'I like you, you're funny.'

'Yeah you really are.' Mark cut in.

He grabbed my hand but I had to get one more kiss from Sean. I hopped over the druggies' unconscious body and frenched Sean as quick as possible.

'Blake!' Mark said.

'Sorry babe, was that okay? I just had too.' I turned to Sean and pointed to the limp body on the ground. 'Please take care of him when he wakes up okay? He's not a bad guy; I could see the good in his eyes.'

Sean then attempted to hand me his car keys. I waved them away.

'Oh, don't worry about it. We'll find a way.'

Mark shrugged his shoulders, said 'Ah what the hell' and frenched Sean. Then he snatched me out the door. Any harder and he'd have my arm and I'd still be standing there.

Sean's directions lead us to the hospitals underground car garage. There were actually a lot of cars down there. We then saw two men, who were obviously goons, come out of a vehicle towards the back. Mark and I hid behind a giant Hummer; damn I could never drive a car that big.

I told Mark to wait so I could distract the two guys and before he could say anything I ran out into the open. My leg was hurt but I felt I had to do something and I just wanted to get away from these guys and I had to protect Mark, at all costs. I loved him.

I yelled at the goons: 'Hey fags!'

I hate that word but It seems to piss people off, never really matters of they're straight or not. As soon as they saw me they darted in my direction and Mark ran the opposite way towards their car which happened to be still running with the keys in the ignition. The two guys were charging me with fierce annoyance so I ran with the speed of their emotions behind me only I didn't have anywhere to run. We in a car garage with a one-wall exit so next thing I knew I was up against the wall with the fiends approaching me and the next then I knew Mark suddenly drives into them like a human gate, the Mercedes screeches to a stop as one of the guys topples on the windshield and the other gets propelled into the wall beside me. Mark sticks his hand out the window and motions for me to get in. Right when I climb in the passenger's seat I look back to see the men pull guns from their sides and shoot at the back of the car. Surprisingly the windows were bullet proof.

Later I wondered why they didn't just pop a cap in my ass to keep me from running earlier. When we pull out one of them yells, 'Hey come back here!' as if we were going to be like 'oh, sure' and stop the car. Ha! Over my dead gay corpse.

Our 'new' car was very nice. It's not surprising what upper-scale drug money can do for someone. It can get you an $87,000 Mercedes but can also manage to get you fucked up buy two queer teens. Apparently, shit can also happen.

Once again we are on the road with no specific destination. I thought and asked myself how many times was this going to happen before we actually lost track of them. It was going on five in the morning and I was so tired. I looked over at Mark to see he was too; his eyes were red and glassy. I asked him to pull over.

'Why?' he asked.

'Because you are always driving and you look like you're the one who got hit by a car, let me drive for a while. You need sleep.'

'No babe, it okay. You don't have to, I'm fine.'

'Mark, I love you, now pull the damn car over and give me the damn keys.' I grinned and he grinned back.

'Damn, okay.'

He pulled the car over and we got out of the car and circled around the front. We came face to face with the cars headlights blaring between our legs, casting elongated shadows on the concrete road. The night was still, only small insects filled the air with sound. Mark and I just stood in front of each other for a while and just stared. I admired his features, his beautiful soft lips and kind eyes. The little bit of acne on his cheeks and the colors of his hair which were somehow still a bright pink and green instead of a faded remnant like most people who die their hair.

He lifted his hand slowly and at the same time he grabbed mine. He settled the keys in the palm of my hand and closed my fingers around it.

'There you go, and I love you too.'

He leaned over and kissed me sweetly. It's amazing after all this time that he can still make me nervous, I keep thinking I will get tired of his endearing eyes and miraculous smirk but It never fails to make me knees wobble and my dick shiver.

After a good thirty minutes we continue forward to the opposite sides of the car. I settled into the driver seat and the breezes drifts through the window as I pull off.

Soon after, Mark is cuddled in the passenger seat like a five year old and I can hear a faint snore creep from his lungs. I love how he's always beautiful no matter what he does, eating, sleeping, crying. It's another thing I love about him.

A part of me was afraid another random car was going to bash into the side of us again. I wasn't sure if I'd be fast enough to protect Mark, like protected me, even so, I wasn't sure if we'd even survive another crash.

What if he died because I wasn't as fast as he was? What if I was and he died anyway? I shivered at the thought.

I changed the subject, where to go? It was going on 5:15 AM and the sun would be awaking over the horizon soon. I took a left at the next light to find a car-made barricade blocking the road.

'Mark... Mark! Get up!'

He sleepily arose and rubbed his eyes. He lent me a smirk.

'What wrong sweet cakes?' He said jokingly.

'What's wrong? Babe, look in front of you.'

His eyes widened at the sight of ten cars engulfing the entire road ahead, they weren't cops, and they were obviously waiting for us.

'Oh, that's what's wrong.'

I scoffed. 'Fuck yeah that's what's wrong, what do we do?'

'I dunno,' he stated. 'Go back?'

I reversed gears and tried to back up but there was a horde of cars behind us as well. This is the moment I freaked.

'FUCK! They're behind us! Oh my god! Oh shit! Shit, shit, shit! They're fucking behind us!'

I realized how serious this all was. I looked at Mark pleadingly. The fact that we might be killed set in quickly.

'Babe... are... are they gonna kill us?'

His eyes teared up a little.

'Calm down Blake, babe, I'll make sure they don't hurt you.'

'Me!? What about you?'

'Don't worry...... just uh....... don't worry.'

About 20 guys surrounded the car with all different shapes and sizes of guns, they were prepared to fire.'

'Get out of the fucking car!' Some bald guy directly in front of the car yelled.

We got out of the car.

'Hands up!'

We put our hands up.

'Get against the car!'

We got against the car.

'Now spread your goddamn legs!'

We spread our legs.

He then walked up and patted me down, it was then I realized it was one of the guys that Mark hit with our car. He was bruised on a variety of areas. So he decided to hit Mark.

The sound of it made me cringe; the sight of it pissed me off.

'Ah! Fucking bastard!' Mark yelled.

I turned to the 'fucking bastard' and swiftly kicked him in his crotch. He yelped in response.

'Don't fucking touch him! Go be a dick without a penis.'

Another guy separated from the circle of men and motioned us towards another car, it's a large van.' He wants to meet you... both of you.'

Mark grabbed me before I could do more damage to the asshole writhing in the middle of the street. I was wired and angry and ready to kick some ass, I even went all gangster and jumped at a guy who was gripping a large shotgun, he jumped back, scared. I laughed.

The van we got in was dark and shiny, the usual ominous vehicle. I assumed they might blindfold us so we didn't know the exact location of the 'boss's' whereabouts but we rode through the city casually glancing out the window. We sat beside each other as the goon in the passenger seat kept his pistol wafting in our faces. I'm not sure why though because in reality there were only three ways to get away:

A) take the guys gun and try to turn it on him but that could go all kinds of wrong.

B) Jump out of the car on the highway and defeat the purpose of escaping by getting hammered by another on-coming vehicle, or

C) Jump at the guy driving the van... I had already been through one car accident; I decided not to test the powers of the universe by causing another one. So with all of that in mind I found myself anxious to meet this boss who had been hunting Mark and I around every corner of the city. Despite the fact that he might actually harm us, he was really starting to irk my nerves.

I looked over at Mark who seemed extremely tense, tenser than I had ever seen him. His eyes were a pink hue and even though the AC was on and my skin carried a light shiver, his forehead was greased with sweat. He kept constantly pulling at his clothing and rubbing his hands together, fiddling with his thumbs. He swallowed hard as he glanced out the window, not with curiosity like me, but with obvious familiarity. He knew exactly where we were going. I assumed that's why we weren't blindfolded. I put my forehead to his after wiping the sweat away.

'Mark, look at me.'

He looked at me with fearful nervous eyes, his breathing was scattered.

'It's okay, I won't let them hurt you and you won't let them hurt me, agreed?'

He closed his eyes and nodded.

'There's probably gonna be drugs in there, somewhere at some point, just stay focused on me and you'll be fine.'

He opened his eyes and lifted my hand to cheek as if he were taking me in. I could see relief spark deep in his pupils as if my words granted him comfort. What even surprised me more is that I believed my own words as I said them, most times like these a person will say these things just to make the other feel better but... I was sure we were going to protect each other. Help the bastard who tries to hurt either of us. Mark grinned at me, so magically as always and kissed me softly on the lips, our forehead still touching intimately.

'Hey fags, how about you come suck my dick!' The guy in the passenger seat yelled to us as if we were a football field away.

His appearance caught me off guard for a second, he wasn't HOTT but he wasn't bad looking either. It had a lot to do with his attire, his hair was slicked to the side like some Prep-school boy and yet he wore a blazer as if attempting to be a badass when really he was just being contradictory. His hands were callused and a bit unsightly, most likely from neglect and gun holding.

I glanced at him with an expression that reflected his ignorance.

'How about you shut the fuck up.'

'Oh, come on pretty boy, its right here waitin' for ya'

Mark spoke. 'And the bottom of my Chuck Taylor is right here waiting to break off in your ass. Why don't you go somewhere you fuckin' pervert?'

Now the guy driving. 'He speaks! The fucking fruit speaks and he's got some spunk in 'em' he uttered a high-pitched chuckle; he sounded like Goofy on estrogen pills.

He looked like someone who fell out of the eighties. His hair was spiked with some kind of gel and was being held back by a pair of retro sunglasses. He wore one of those jackets over a black tank top, which feel like paper and make noise every time you move your arms; it was a loud orange color. Only he was also wearing suit pants. My installed gay fashion sense totally had a problem with that... Not to mention the brown belt with black shoes. I gasped at the sight of their clothing.

'Fuck,' I said. 'We would get stuck with the homo-criticizing-pervert-closet-cases. Just our luck.'

'Yep, and they're not even cute!' Mark said with a smirk.

'I know right, they could have at least been decent looking.'

Mark scoffed. 'So fucked up.'

I laughed mockingly. 'Yep.'

Both guys shut up by then, obviously bewildered by the 'closet cases' comment but too hurt by the 'not cute' comment to say anything.

The rest of the drive was them being silent and trying to discreetly watch Mark and I make out in the back seat. Despite the situation we were in, Mark and I weren't ones to waste perfectly good make-out time (we love to kiss) and I wasn't kidding when I said they were closeted. My gaydar had been going crazy since the second I hopped in the back seat. (And NO, Gaydar is not a myth.)

The sky was bright with morning lights and hues, the air was calm and cars whizzed by on the road, I assumed most were on their way to work.

We came to a stop and climbed from the back seat of the car, I made eye contact with the front seat pervs. One of them covered their nuts, Mark and laughed at his sudden but appropriate action.

'You know, we know you two were watching us make-out.'

'What? We... we... weren't..... uh....' one of them stuttered.

'Just stop. It's fine, whatever... but think about this... Why don't you two make-out with each other hmm? I mean come on.'

They traded glances awkwardly... they obviously had the HOTS for each other and maybe once pondered this before. The

'What are your names?' Mark asked.

'William Fitz the third.' the guy on the left replied.

'Jacob Ryan Marlow.'

Mark paused. 'Umm, well just your first names would have been fine... but anyway...'

He pointed to the both of them.

'You are no longer William Fitz, just Will and you, you are now Jake,'

He became attentive to only Will. 'Let me see...' He chewed on his lip for a second. 'Relax the hair; get rid of the blazer... umm... tighter jeans... crunches and push-ups for 30 minutes three days a week. Just remember, arms and abs.'

We lifted our shirts to reveal our six packs. Will was hating, Jake was loving the view.

'Also,' I cut in. 'Get a manicure.'

He nodded, taking in the advice with surprisingly no smart ass retaliation.

I took on Jake.

'As for you Jake, If you're gonna spike your hair, use a non-dandruff gel with a more modern styling, go with jeans or a better fit for suit pants (his were baggy and flooding, don't ask how they could be both) you look like a 30-32 inch waist to me.'

I paused, taking in his appearance some more. 'Umm... let's see... ah yes, BURN THAT FUCKING JACKET it's horrid, and its blinding me, and it makes you a 'you so ugly' joke punch line.'

I turned to walk away but then remembered something.

'Oh, and brown belt, brown shoes! Black belt black shoes!' I enunciated.

At first confused, Jake looked down at his belt and shoes, and then he realized his fatal fashion mistake.

'And finally,' Mark began. 'Even though we are giving you tips on your outside appearance, still just be yourselves. You don't have to change anything about who you are on the inside... We are just helping you to attract someone who'll be willing to find out. It may sound a little blunt but it's a lot of truth.'

They stood next to each other for quite a while before moving forward. As we walked Jake asked Will if his jacket was 'horrid and blinding'... Will agreed that it was, while simultaneously stroking his fingers through his hair, effectively eliminating the prep-boy style.

Mark and I walked away holding hands. Though Marks grin was instantly eliminated at the sight of the building looming in front of us. To me, it appeared as a regular building back dropped by the morning sky but to Mark, it was the nightmare of his life... this building was a curse, a symbol.

As more of the bosses men crowded around us, they had to shove Mark into the building as he stopped cold directly in front of the entrance.

Though normalcy may have been splashed and plastered on the exterior of the building, it was horribly contradicted by the smoke, smells, and sights of the interior.

I trembled at the sight of women and men snorting and burning all these substances. Some people were huddle in a corner, while some were strung out, lying on the ground -expressionless. I even saw a guy getting a blow job by a woman who had been irreparably damaged by the drugs she used. The lobby of the once-thriving hotel was littered with addicts and trash, the walls were faded and peeled, and drugs... all kinds of drugs, littered every flat surface that surrounded us. I glanced at mark quickly, he was chewing on his tongue, and it looked as if he wanted to pounce on the table. He was squeezing my hand but his totally focus was on every pill and substance in the lobby.

I moved in front of his gaze and caught his eyes.

'Hey, stay with me. All that is behind you now, so forget it, there's no way I'd let you leave my side. I love you, and I'll never stop loving you. Com'n?' I gestured toward the direction we were forced to go in. I guess we could have tried to run at some point, but I wanted to see this guy that aided in ruining Mark's life. This guy that has been chasing him for way too long.

As we walked, we stepped over bodies I weren't sure were even breathing, to stop and check would have made the experience more tangible, and at the moment... I couldn't have that. Some lifted their heads and some tossed and turned but there were still a few just motionless, lying and melding with the damaged marble floor, it made me tear up a little. Mark even acted as if this was a new sight for him.

Me, Mark, and about 14 other men approached a large double door golden elevator, but only two armed guy and Mark and I entered. The elevator was complete with a decorate carpet and reflecting walls. I would have that it nice if we weren't surrounded by all the sadness. The ride up to the 19th floor was surprisingly calm, nearly normal. The abrupt gentle natural of the elevator and its Frank Sinatra instrumental streaming through the speaker had me break my game face. The sadness of the lobby could only keep it taut for so long. I was taken over by laughter, followed by Mark. Even one of the two bodyguards cracked a smile.

And that's the guy I slammed down with my fist; he hunched over and dropped his gun onto the elevator floor. Before he could pick it up, I accurately kneed him in the face causing him to throw his head backwards and spider the mirrored wall behind him. He was out cold.

'Babe.... that was hot,' Mark commented.

I turned to see Mark had knocked the other guy out by chopping him in the throat and slamming his head against the railing.

'Not so bad yourself.' I said, lending him a grin.

We took their guns; the guy I took out had two so I put one in my belt and the other in my ankle. I also jacked his wallet and stole the money out, which I happened to feel a little bad about.


The elevator doors slung open.

I was surprised by the sudden change of atmosphere. There were no drugs here, no addicts, no guards or guns, not even any fucked up wallpaper. For some reason it still had the serenity of a hotel, it was so otherworldly considering what was downstairs.

We dragged the goons' unconscious bodies out of the elevator and hid them in the Janitor's Closet. The hallway outstretched to the left, we walked.

'Blake,' Mark says.

'Yeah Hun?'

'I had no idea you were gonna do that.'

'Well you're not the only one.' I smirked and he mirrored my expression.

'Though it was pretty badass, on both our parts.... I'm not sure what's going to happen now and... I'm a little, actually A LOT freaked out right now.'

I glanced at him with a reassuring smile.

'Again, you're not the only one.'

'Okay,' Mark says. 'Let's meet this fuck job.'

'You okay with this?' I ask, realizing what memories it may bring back.

'As long as you're here and I get to kick Derek's ass.'

I stopped him and stood him front of him.

'I have two things to say too in case something goes wrong.'

'Don't say that, nothing is goi-'

'Let me finish, first of all... what is your really hair color?'

He laughed, and then raised an eyebrow, 'seriously?'

'Yeah I'm serous!' I said laughing. 'I've never seen it not pink and green.'

He laughed again. 'Okay, it's red, like a medium red with brownish and lighter red highlights.'

I smiled and nodded, satisfied. 'Really? That's hot.'

'And the second thing?' Mark asked.

'Oh yeah, I love you.'

'I love you more.' He kissed me hard and passionately, I was taken aback by how great of a kiss it was.

'You're right; we are making it out of here one way or another.'

'Why the sudden change of morbid to optimism?'

'Because... we haven't had sex yet.'

He had the widest, brightest smile that ever shown in the entire universe. That smile could have eliminated pollution and saved the polar bears, I tell you.

We weren't sure which door belonged to Derek until we saw it. An overly large, theatrical, oak door was staring us in the face. It looked like it had been built into the hotel, it wasn't a hotel room. It looked different.

We took out our guns from our waists and pointed it at the door. I was so glad to have Mark there with me. Mark grabbed the doorknob and pulled it open; Blake charged in only to be met by two more guards and two more guns. Their guns, the ones they once held, were taken from them and they were pulled into the room.

'It's the same.' Mark whispered looking around the room.

A large desk sat across from them, the guards stood between them and the door.

Mark stopped looking around the room and met eyes with the disturbingly shadowed figure sitting at the desk. His hair was dirty blonde and he wore a black tank top, his hands rested on the oak table.

'Finally,' he whispered, or rather taunted. 'You're here.'

'This is all about the fourteen grand I owe you?'

I heard a low chuckle emit from his crooked smile.

'Not me.'

His sly smile seemed to cut through the shadow that should have concealed it. He sat in a high-back chair. Dominance and dictation surged from his demeanor. He was obviously a person who thought he ruled the universe, maybe even thought he was the universe.

I was repulsed by his presence.

I glared at Mark with curious eyes.

'You let this prick take you in? He's fuckin' creepy babe.'

Marks expression was dim and confused. Then it straightened.

'That's not Derek.'

'Derek?!' the figure exclaimed. 'Derek was nothing but a waste of life!' He was suddenly angered, distraught.

Soon after, he was calm and back to uttering a mere whisper.

'My name is Trey, and I run this place.'

Trey's emotions were that of a hormonal teenager.

I stared into his eyes, they were dark and familiar. His glare cut through me with such... hostility.

'It should be made clear about how much you both owe me.'

'What?' I asked.

'What do you mean both?' Mark chimed in.

The air conditioner clicked on followed by a low hum. Trey acknowledged it by rising from his chair and headed towards a coat rack. He slowly lifted the coat or rather, the hoody, and strung his arms through the sleeves.

As he zipped up the front, an image that was sliced in half came together, at first it only looked like a mass of faded redness but it soon came in to focus as a word.

A single word that read 'TALON' in large red letters.

It had the same claws, the same design, the only difference was how it was faded and worn and peeling. There were spots scattered across the design that obviously weren't part of the design. It was blood. Was it their blood? Or some other destroyed families? My blood should have been on that jacket, or I used to think that until I was presented with this moment.

I was shocked, frozen in time for seconds that felt like hours. This man, this entity, this dark curse on my life was standing in front of me, a mere five feet away.

'Mmm... Marr... Mark.'

Mark glances at me with concern.

'What is it?' He whispers, as if trying to hide the fact that we were talking.

I only raise my hand at the image on Trey's jacket. The bold red letters cursing back at me, provoking me... I felt fractured.

Mark looked up with question in his eyes, for a minute or so his face showed nothing but puzzlement.

Soon he was struck with realization.

'Blake, he's the guy... Blake he's the guy!'

Trey's smirk grew into a questioning frown, then the most treacherous grin I had ever seen. He knew who I was when I walked in here, maybe before, and now he knew, I knew, who he was.

Mark was barking at me loudly and rage filled every corner of my body. I was furious, savage. I made a move, a quick one; apparently I was good at those.

I reached down and yanked the other gun from my ankle and pointed it at the guard next to me.

'Leave. Now.'

He smiled confidently; supposedly I wasn't going to shoot him.

'You're not gonna shoo-'

I shot him in the leg. He screamed... his expression was pure surprise.

'If one of your buddies told you I liked being a victim. They lied. Just ask the guy with bruised testicles. Now leave.'

I pointed the pistol at the man next to Mark.

'You got something to smile about?' I asked.

He dropped his gun, obviously not ready to take a bullet for the boss.

'You fucking coward!' Trey yelled at his so-called body guard. They were leaving him alone with us.

'I've got to say, Blake is it? That was-'

'Shut up.'

'Impressive.' He was cocky. I hated him for it.

I tell him how much I hate him and how I've wanted to kill him since the day my parents died. He acted as If he had no Idea what I what talking about, until I cocked my pistol.

'Okay,' He uttered, still smiling, still cocky. 'I knew exactly who you were when you waltzed in here, I know exactly who your parents were, I supplied them.'

He waited for a response; I guess he figured I didn't know that about them already. He expected me to try and prove him wrong, to become as distraught as him. He was wrong.

He continued, suddenly burst with rage. 'Not only did they owe money! They owed the most money, they became greedy! Your thieving, kiniving parents stole from me! They stole my money!' His voice was raspy and powerful.

'Your drug money.' Mark cut in.

'Money is money!' He retaliated. 'You know how much?' He was in his whispered tone again. 'You know how much they took from me?'

He paused; his eyes darted left to right. He shifted and look up at me, he spasmed and pointed his crooked finger at me, his jaw tight and raw as he spoke.

'2 million FUCKING dollars!' He said it with such power; it nearly shook the desk he still stood behind.

'They took more than half of my money! More than half!' He slammed his fists on the desk to channel his fierceness, he spoke of his betrayal, as if I cared. His eyes blazed into mine. .

Despite how furious he was, I was beyond that. His anger was just inkling to how I felt, a fraction of my emotion. I felt like ripping his face from his skull so he could watch the tip of this bullet enter his body just a bit better. I felt like excavating his insides with the edge of the nearest sharpest object.

I felt it was my duty to wipe his ignorance from the face of the planet. The world would be better off with him not breathing. I'd be better off...

I was suddenly visited by a memory; the night before my parents were killed... they were packing. The fair we went to was our last stop before we left the country to Europe. My father told me he had been offered a very well-off job in Europe and that that's why we were leaving. I decided not to ask any questions, I was fine with leaving, only it wasn't a job offer, they were... we were running from him.... from Trey. We just didn't run fast enough.

'I didn't even know who you were,' Trey muttered. 'And now that they are dead, YOU are the one who owes me! You owe me two million!' He was as spitting in his rage.

Trey quickly reached down into the drawer of the desk, I was about to shoot him when he slammed a colorful object on his table with ferocity. The fur was mangled and dirty and its eyes were scratched but it was still the same, the same porcupine I won at the state fair with my parents. Its plastic soulful eyes peered into me with remembrance and fond memories, as if it knew who I was and was beckoning me to help it.

The sight of it buried my mind in a darker place, such a dark place; I aimed at Trey's seething body and fired.

Finally the sound of a gunshot was pleasant to my ears.

Trey's sly, evil smile was obliterated from his face. He was... surprised, shocked, and taken aback. He'd just been shot in the... shoulder? I fucking missed, the gun swung to the right last minute.

Treys men outside attempt to barrage the door but no such luck, its largeness and steel locks keep them from slamming in. Trey laughed as he bled, his shocked state turned into a cocky defeat.

'Go ahead,' he says. 'Try again, just aim a little bit more to the left this time. Kill me.'

I thought about his death, how it would justify my parents death but then I thought how killing them still wouldn't bring them. It would convict me and haunt me and they'd still be dead. I decided not to kill him not only because of my parents' permanent deaths but because of Marks constant screaming telling me to put the gun down. Well, at least I got to shoot him.

'Blake, please, put the gun dow-'

'Okay.' I said, placing it at my side.

'What now? We're still trapped in here with an asshole and no way out but the front door.'

'I said kill me!' Trey yelled on the other side of the room, suddenly filled with anger again.

'Shove it shitface! Don't make me fuck up your other shoulder! Because I fucking will! I'll blow your goddamn knee cap into to fucking pieces; you'll never walk the same way again!'

I matched his rage. He stopped talking.

Mark was suddenly stricken with an idea.

I opened the door, Mark cautiously strolled behind me with Trey bleeding from the shoulder, and he held the gun to his temple. He was now our getaway ticket out of the place and a human shield.

All of his goons made a path for us as we strolled to the elevator.

'You'll never make it out of here alive, you know that?'

Trevor lended me another sly grin, it was nothing compared to the curve Mark's lips could make.

'What part of 'shove it shitface' did you not comprehend?'

Once we made it to the bottom floor, the elevator door whooshed open but at least twelve guys stood four yards away and were getting closer. That's when Jake and Will jumped in front of us.

Will then turned to us.

'I didn't want this fucking job in the first place. I was just waiting for the right time to get out.'

'No time like the present.' Jake responded with a cheesy smile.

I was glad to see them.

They were probably sucked in like Mark was. This place appeals to people in different ways, whatever way they need at the time but it ends the same for everybody. Sad and alone. Unless you get out in time like these three.

Mark had given me Trey just in case we were shot, he wanted me protected.

One of the goons, he was big, bad, and bald told us to let Trey go or he would shoot. Trey did not appreciate that.

'Don't shoot you dumb bastard! I don't want to fucking die, what if you miss! Shoot and I'll fucking kill you!'

Trey screamed at him, obviously he had changed his mind about dying. He told them to let us pass, so they cleared the area just wide enough for us to walk through.

We were just seconds from the exit when Mark stopped walking, suddenly his eyes shifted to a man that was walking around the lobby in a pair of worn jeans, a tank top, and a leather jacket. His hair was blonde and his eyes were blue-greenish, only they were watery and glazed over. He was an addict.

''Derek?!' mark questions, echoing throughout the hotel.

Trey laughs, 'Yeah, there's the old slut... He used to run this place a while back... now look at him. Nothing but smoke and waste.

'Mar... Mar..?' Derek stutters.

'It's Mark not Mario? What happened to you?'

Derek's eyes were glazed with vague familiarity.

'The... The drugs,' he grinned slightly. 'The drugs finally got me.'

I could see how Mark may have fallen for him in the past, I could see how good looking he must have been, how good looking he still could be... if he stopped... But it wouldn't last at the rate he was going.

With a gun to his head, Trey was still laughed at Derek's failure.

Mark looked into my eyes for a split second, and I knew what he wanted. I nodded in response.

'Derek,' he said reaching out to him. 'Come with me, come with us, you can do so much better than this... come on.'

Derek looked around as If he was just realizing where he really was, his eyes claimed focus, then glazed, then focused again. He came toward Mark with a single step.

There was sound, a loud burst of sound so sharp, it pierced my psyche. I was suddenly shaken by the sound of a gun and the sight of Derek's body collapsing to the ground, he'd been shot.

'Fuck this! Let him go now, or we'll shoot! That includes you two.' The bald guy had shot Derek in the side, he gestured toward Jake and Will.

'Let him go!'

Mark let him go but not without introducing the gun handle to the back of Trey head, causing him to fall to floor. It distracted the guards long enough for Mark to wrap Derek's arm around him and dart out of the Lobby with quicksilver speed.

It was bright outside now. As soon as we made it on the other side of the lobby doors, Jake tossed me his cars keys.

'You're not coming?' I asked, concerned.

'We'll be fine. We have Will's car, now go!'

They were locking the doors closed with chains that were conveniently near the only exit and entrance of the building. Trey had chosen to close every other exit off, trapping him and his goons inside.

Mark was helping Derek into the car when I yelled to Jake.

'Don't fucking die!' I was able to be comical considering the circumstances, but I felt... justified, safe. I knew Trey was going to get his for the things he's done. Karma is a bitch and today it's was an anonymous Police tipster.

We drove to the hospital, luckily Derek's major organs and arteries were intact. Plus he was way too fucking high to really even feel the pain.

Regardless, I was freaking out. He had a fucking hole in his side. It was huge enough to stick your finger through it!

The same doctor that patched us up, Sean patched him up as well. The sweetheart that Mark knocked out was sitting on the bed with a bandage wrapped around his head. Turns out his name was Ryan. He and Sean had a thing going.


Derek was able to stay off drugs by going to rehab and pulled his life together, he even went to college to be a mechanic. He told Mark he always liked cars and was used to having to get dirty. He meant that in more ways than one. He's holding his own as a renowned Drug Boss and addict. Apparently he had a brother and sister that were doing pretty well for themselves and decided to help Derek now that he was open and cooperative. They're doing pretty well; Blake and II even go check on him from time to time.

Jake and Will were caught outside the hotel while trying to escape, Will's car wouldn't start... yeah, go figure. Anyway they were both charged with 90 days in jail for illegal gun possession and having a gun well... just being... in the vicinity of a Heroine/Meth/Crack labratorium... those aren't the exact words but you get the point. After they got out they moved in together about 3 hours down the road, we still keep in touch, they are actually a really fun couple to be around and really good friends to have.

Sean and the sweetheart, Ryan are still an ongoing 'thing', they have yet to put a label on it. The both of them flinch at the very mention of the words 'Boyfriend' or 'Lover' but they seem to be heading in that direction anyway.

All the 'Happily Ever After's' are pretty much obliterated in The World of Trey Masterson. His last name and illusion of a domineering individual. Who once was domineering and controlling now thrives in a 6' by 6' cell for 256 years. He ended up with 6 counts of first degree murder (including my parents) 2 counts of second and 3 for Man-Slaughter. He also resisted arrest, lunged at the attorney who managed to indicate him while barely lifting a finger and was held in contempt of court. He also pissed off a few people with terms I can only describe as offensive, that includes the bailiff, the cop who arrested him (and kicked his ass) and half the Jury. There aren't any 'professional' terms for the types of comments he made but there is a common one and that'd be 'fucking stupid.' To have over 50 people follow you into a world filled with drugs, pain, and constant over-the-shoulder watching, he was horrible at persuading his incarcerators to lend him a deal of some sort. Which only made our victory that much sweeter.

That leaves the two of us... what exactly is our future riddled with? Here I was, asking myself questions without really knowing the answers, not really needing or wanting them either. Just in curious wonderment as I curled myself into the black silk sheets of my new bed, the morning light streaming through the window, Mark's arm engulfing me, pressing me against his warm chest. The walls of the room were an illuminating green that brought a bit of joy in the room, the carpet black while the accents of the room were a well contrasted purple. Our bedroom was seized by our favorite colors.

I felt Mark breath fasten a bit on the back of my neck which told me he was now awake, I rolled over and we lay face to face just inches away from one another. Unlike anyone else I had ever met, his breath was sweet 24/7 even in the mornings... It's astounded me. His grin was what reminded me of one very important factor or rather event that had not yet occurred in our relationship.

We hadn't had sex yet. We were so tired from everything including our plane ride that we just took our clothes off hopped in for a simultaneous shower (you must save water), and aimed for the mattress.

I couldn't tell you when arrived in Madrid, Spain or even what moment we had decided to dome here... It all just happened.

Madrid might be a cliché, I know, but romantic and fulfilling just the same.

Our moment of eye contact was still in motion as I allowed my thoughts to race through my head, and before my mouth could flinch to even attempt to form a word, Mark was kissing me hard and heavy and passionately. He had read my mind. I appreciated his intuitively greatly.

He rushed on top of me our chests were colliding together, he skin rubbed against my while smooth friction. His hand came up to caress my face as the other reached down to grip my leg around his firm body. My arms and legs scavenged every part of his body with new intentions and fierce intensity. I could feel my heart beating rapidly and my cock hardening. I could swear I felt his heart parallel to mine, like to drums in the same rhythm. I felt safe and sensual in his arms as we both sat up on the bed still kissing, still chest to chest while I say on his lap and grinded into him. He then slowly slid his hands down my back into my boxer briefs and massage my ass while his all-knowing hands. In a moment I was on my back again, Mark now taking his time, He started from my lips and kissed his was down my neck, to my chest and down my stomach until he got my underwear and casually slid them from my thighs and across my shins and tossed them to the ground. I was now completely nude.

I pushed him onto his back and kissed him in the same manner, ending with his boxers on the carpet next to mine. Only I was now kissing his hardened dick, it was strong and veiny and beautiful. I took it into my mouth and he let out a light moan. My head ran up and down his bold shaft, his moans were loud an impulsive. He knew how to enjoy pleasure and I found his appreciating noises sexy.

He leaned over just enough to squeeze my ass and I swiftly hopped onto the well-known sixty-nine position.

His throat acted as a vacuum on my cock and I was taken by the bliss of his ability. Slurping sounds filled the room; his member was still hard and wet in the palm of my hand.

I rolled on my back and he lay above me, only an inch from me. His eyes were bound in respect, joy, appreciation, contentment. I loved him limitlessly.

He entered. His strength was in me now and his hips began to go deeper, still inches from my face his watched my expressions of enigmatic ecstasy. I wailed more loudly than I ever had, his motion increasing and deepening... It was moments before he was completely inside me. His moans of pleasure matched mine; our lips met again and he tightened his hold on my body, pulling me closer and humping harder into me. The feeling of his cock pounding against my prostate was indescribable. My hands torn through his hair as his sweat slid across his face and dripped to mix with my own.

'I love you. I love you a lot.' I told him.

'I love you even more.' His words were the truest I'd ever heard a man utter.

I grabbed his ass tightly with both my hands and stroked his hole with my fingertips, probing and caressing it. He nearly blew my ears out with his screaming which only excited me more.

As he rammed into me he grabbed a fistful of my dick and began jerking me off, now sitting up.

When I realized I might cum I stopped him and pulled him out of me pushing him onto his back. After rimming him for a few minutes I graduating let myself into him, he smiled from ear to ear with satisfaction.

'You feel so good, regardless if you're the top or bottom. Have you always known that?'

I leaned in, nearly a half an inch from his face before I completely entered him and he gasped in a sudden apporative breath.

'No, but uh... thanks for letting me know. I've always wondered about the comparison.' I raised my brow and lended him the smirk of a thousand thank you's. He gave me his smile of two thousand your-welcome's.

I oscillated in and out of him with the sensual rough strokes; He grunted and moaned with every movement I made. After a while of pumping him full of me he pushed me over with me inside of him and sat on top of me, preparing to ride me cock.

His knees on the mattress on either side of me he lifted and dropped his weight on top of me sending me into waves of gratification. He was contracting his hole on my dick at exactly the right moments sending pleasure up my spine. I stroked his dick as he yelped his ecstasy into the air. I marveled in the fact that I was giving him so much pleasure at the same time fulfilling my needs to satisfactory conditions. He felt so warm inside, so perfect. I felt my climax approaching.

Mark came off of my dick and pressed his against mine, he started stroking them together. I was sitting up now and we made out while he jerked our cocks simultaneously. We writhed in our sexy sweaty gratification. The pleasure was absolutely entangled in every nerve of my body.

He lay on top of me, feeling our climax approaching faster and he humped our meats together with strength, the sound of it echoed throughout the apartment. Our screams vibrated the bed, the walls, the very air itself.

I was caught in his gaze at the very moment his cock spurted with warm cum, causing my member to explode just second after. The sounds that erupted from my lungs nearly sounded like they were coming from a third party. Mark was still in my eyes, as I was his. I remembered the exact moment his pleasure was piqued, his exact expression. It was that of invaluable beauty. He kissed me again, deep and meaningfully.

That was my first time with Marko Gregory Renturi, Marko G. Renturi being his full name; mine being Blake Jonathan Reeves. I take pride in our 'R' similar last names.

'How hot is it that our first uh... second.... and third times were in Madrid?' I asked, grinning very widely.

'Awesomely hot!' He laughed, smiling cutely.

We were wrapped in each other's arms. He smelled of what I can only call 'sweetness', he always smelled so sweet. He told me I radiated the smell of fresh air... he said if there's ever a time when he's suffocating in any sense of the word that I should hug him tightly.

I asked him what if it was me that was suffocating him and he replied that that could never happen because I'm fresh air. I just laughed.

We wrote a book together, a book based on our experiences all wrapped up in one kid that find loves as strong as our through all his adversities and challenges including an addiction to heroine. We found a willing publisher and are working on a sequel, might be a trilogy.

Light was still streaming through the window and everything seems to be glowing but I wasn't sure if it was the morning light or the mix or the aftereffects of an extraordinarily supernatural climax.

Mark lets go of a deep drawn out breath, as if he's about to admit something or tell me the secrets of life. The breath made me nervous. Then he turned to me, looked me in the eyes and then turned away to the bedside drawer and pulled something from it. It was a small chrome container, a ring container. He opens it and some of the heaviest words every to be aligned in human history passed his lips:

'Blake Reeves, will you marry me?'

I looked down at the ring, shocked.

I laughed; all I could do was laugh.

'This is so messed up!'

Mark cunning grin faded.

'So... you uh... you don't want to marry me?' His voice cracked a bit.

'No! I mean, yes! Babe, that's so not what I mean!'

That's when I hopped off the bed and headed for the dresser, I open the top shelf and pulled something from it.

I hopped back on the bed and revealed a box, black, but the same ring case as Mark's.

When Mark saw it he burst out laughing. The ends of his mouth a mile from each other.

We traded and opened them at the same time.

It was the same ring.

A stunning silver with and outer rotating band incrested with diamond on the sides all the way around. It was a great ring.

'I inscribed it! Read it!' I tell Mark.

'Really? I got yours inscribed too!'

He peered on the outer ring and read aloud:

'True love never ran smooth'

It was Shakespeare, he loved Shakespeare and I loved him so it seemed to tally up.

Mark's face illuminated, he liked it. His lips met with mine softy and passionately. I was glad he was happy.

'Uh, well I did inscribe your but it's not as great as yours so don't be upset...'

I read it aloud: 'I live for your kiss, your breath.'

I was completely... bolted with how perfect this line was.

I had no words which apparently he thought was disgust or something.

'Fuck, you hate it don't you? It's okay I'll take it back an-'

'Mark its perfect. Just... perfect. I have no other word to describe it.'

The relief floated from him like steam. I could practically see the tension whisk from his neck and shoulders. We pulled into each other, sitting 'Indian-style' our knees touched; our arms sat in each other's laps... even our forehead made contact. We were as close as we were gonna get in this position.

Instantly, another eye-lock was formed. We stared deep into each other's pupils, searching for what to say next.

It was obvious.

Our voices melded together to create one simple:




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