Boy Toy

The sunlight beams in an open window to the left of Marshall’s pounding head and he immediately groans and twists his mostly naked body around in the bed. When he feels the radiating warmth only another human can give off, he cracks open his tired brown eyes and cringes when he sees another mostly naked boy next to him.

Sebastian is still sound asleep, his face calm and peaceful with a thin streak of drool sliding out the side of his mouth. Marshall hadn’t planned on sleeping with Sebastian and he feels guilty before he realizes that he actually has no fucking clue what went on the night before. All he remembers is the many, endless confessions Sebastian had offered up, and then nothing. Not a moment, not a sliver of a second, not anything that could give Marshall a clue about that had gone on the night before.

As his hungover brain starts to hurt, Marshall gives up and just succumbs back into Dreamland,
snuggling down into the warm covers and wrapping Sebastian’s limp arm around his chest.

~

When he wakes up again, he feels Sebastian shifting uncomfortably beside him, wiggling and squirming. When he cracks his eyes, Seb is half out of the bed, looking at Marshall with this innocent-but-caught look, and Marshall knows that he was trying to leave without waking him.

“You don’t have to go, Seb, this wasn’t a one night stand,” he murmurs and then flips his arm over his face, blocking the sunlight. “I mean, fuck, did we even sleep together?”

Sebastian lets out an embarrassed laugh and shrugs before collapsing back heavily into the warm bed. Sebastian’s eyes are a little swollen and there’s the faint shadow of a hicky on his collarbone, but that’s the only possible hint at something sexual. Marshall’s ass isn’t sticky and it doesn’t hurt, so he’s 98 percent sure nothing happened.

“Are you feeling any better?” he asks quietly and turns on his side to meet Sebastian’s bright, bright eyes.

“Yeah, Mar, I am. Thank you. For dealing with me, putting up with my shit, listening to me.”

“Hey, someone had to do it, didn’t they?” Marshall asks, trying to hopefully lighten the mood.

Instead, Sebastian falls back heavily into the bed with his shirt tangled over his head. “No, they didn’t. No one does, I’m sorry to lay that all on you. I feel like such an emotional little douchebag girl. I don’t ever talk about that shit. I’m sorry you’re so stuck with me.”

For the first time in a long time, Marshall feels like he’s the responsible one in the relationship. It’s kind of weird and he’s not sure how to handle the responsibility, especially with Sebastian being three years his senior. He doesn’t let this feeling show and instead, props his head up on his elbow and looks down into the eyes that still shine with sorrow.

“Sebastian Rowe Bunker, I feel far from stuck with you. You’re wonderful, wonderful in the most awe-striking sense of the word.” After saying this, Marshall feels gayer than he actually is and he feels a blush rise in his cheeks, but he carries on with his speech anyway. “You’ve got issues, probably some serious ones, but who the fuck in this world doesn’t? In a way, as much as you say I help you, you’re practically a savior to me. Some days, you’re going to get down in your feelings. Who the fuck cares? Talk to me, tell me all about it. I want to be here for you more than anyone’s ever been here for you.”

Sebastian’s eyes slipped closed in the middle of Marshall’s speech, but there’s a faint glimmer of what might kind of be a smile playing at his lips and Marshall feels oddly proud of himself. For bullshitting his way through that (and meaning every word, of course), he’s done a damn good job. Right? He sure as shit hopes so, anyway.

“Thanks, Marshall,” comes the whispered reply as Sebastian squirms his way around until his face is pressed firmly against the warm, bare skin of the younger boy yet again. As he slowly shuts his eyes, Marshall can’t help but giggle with the feeling of it against his skin, and he begins to laugh as Sebastian does.

Soon, the two boys are completely gone, laughing until tears pour from their eyes and the holiest of all stomachaches grace each of them. As the laughter slowly subsides, Sebastian raises his head and looks directly into the other’s eyes and his laughter fades into an ear splitting grin, and then a barely noticeable smirk, until he leans forward to press the sweetest kiss against the younger’s chapped lips. They kiss and kiss for what feels like it must be hours and when Marshall finally can’t take it anymore and his lips are starting to burn raw, he pulls away.

“I - ” he opens his mouth and then slams it shut again, closing his eyes and turning away. He hopes, by some grace of God, Budha, or Charlie Sheen, that Sebastian didn’t notice Marshall’s complete and utter freak out, but because Sebastian is just that – Sebastian - he knows he did.

“Marshall?”

The younger boy rolls back over and looks up into those precious, seafoam eyes through his eyelashes and hopes for a look of innocence. “What just happened?”

What had just happened was, Marshall, like the fucking idiot he was, was all of a nanosecond away from saying those three goddamn words that fuck everything up and ruin good things and add way too much to the plate and then if he doesn’t say it back, oh my God, wouldn’t that be awkward? Yeah, it would be awkward, Marshall can’t believe he almost just said that and he and Sebastian haven’t even been talking or dating or whatever the hell they were doing, and he already wants to break out the L word? “Idiot,” he murmurs to himself and closes his eyes, allowing his head to fall forward onto Sebastian’s tanned and taut chest.

“Did you just… did you just call me an idiot?”

Marshall lets out a soft, almost inaudible chuckle and shakes his head. “No, I definitely called myself an idiot. Sorry, I. I just need to go home soon.” Seb is as confused as ever, Marshall can feel it, but he doesn’t make to speak anymore, he knows it’ll only get worse. His save was godawful, but it worked, he’s pretty sure, and that’s all that matters.

The two stand and awkwardly and gracelessly, get dressed and find all of their belongings strewn about the room, giggling as socks are pulled from lampshades and a t-shirt dangling from the ceiling fan.

Marshall turns his phone on and grimaces when he sees that it’s already 10:44 and that he has six missed call notifications and four voicemails, two of which took place early this morning. His mom is going to kick his ass, probably because he disappeared, more so than the fact that he stayed out all night. Honesty has always been the number one thing he and his mom connected on, that kept Marshall out of trouble and always in her good graces, and now, twice in the past two weeks, he’d gone and fucked it up badly. He can’t help but let his good mood slip just the slightest bit as the strong, cannonball size dent settles in his abdomen.

Sebastian, without asking, holds up the car keys and the two quietly exit the room, Marshall with his eyes stuck to the ground, trying to come up with a simple solution, or any fucking solution, really, and Sebastian squinting into the sun, knowing not to ask questions or to think any thoughts because he doesn’t want to be sad and he doesn’t want to know why Marshall is sad and he just wants to be, that’s all he wants.