Status: hiatus.

It's Worse Than You Think

Marshall

I watched as Zeke flung the cardigan over his body, a small smile on his face as he thanked Finn for the gift. I was only slightly paying attention to their conversations (although I did start laughing when the two of them started cracking up but really I had no clue what the fuck they were on about). His present was pretty great though, there’s no denying that it is essentially perfect for Zeke, but I still feel pretty damn good about mine. Considering I only figured out what to get him about three days ago, it’ll turn out nice.

After he’d left, the night he stayed over to watch a Wes Anderson film which admittedly kind of failed as a whole but certainly not once we shared a bed, the answer became so unbelievably obvious I was a little disappointed I hadn’t thought of it earlier. You know, like weeks in advance like a good person should for events like these. But fuck, he didn’t even tell me about his birthday so I think I’m doing just fine in the ‘decent boyfriend’ category. Maybe the idea of buying him tickets to his favourite art show flourished because I’d been thinking about the day we first met. I didn’t know how sentimental I can seem to get when I’m curled up next to my boyfriend.

I mean shit, it’s so weird going back to that day, remembering all the conversations we had, the ones we didn’t, how I’d only been in Illinois for about three weeks. It’s insane the more I think about it, how perfectly fucking timed everything seemed to be. What if I’d decided to stay in Oregon for even just a few weeks longer, and the job at Bridgeport had been filled before I got there? But whatever, I’m not complaining. Anyways, unfortunately the tickets were only available online because I’d wanted them so late, and they can’t get shipped to me for another two more days. Which means I’m left sitting here like an ass with nothing while he opens Finn’s gift. There’s not much I can do about it, and honestly I don’t see Zeke holding anything against me because of it. He’s probably relieved, I’m sure.

Before I could even react, Finn was standing up, wrapping his arms around Zeke for an embrace. I shot him a half-hearted, “Yeah, definitely. Talk to you later,” once I’d heard my own name leave his lips, but I was completely distracted by what was going on in my own mind.

I let out a laugh as Zeke threw himself down on my couch as soon as the door was shut, and buried his face in his hands. I lifted his legs up so I could sit down underneath them, running my hands up and down his calves. “It wasn’t that bad,” I said, my tone amused. My fingers curled around his waist so I could pull him up against me, his face pressed against my shoulder now.

His hands traveled around my torso, “I guess so,” Zeke mused, leaning up to kiss my jaw line. “But I really do appreciate everything you did for me.”

I turned my neck to the side to catch his lips, pressing mine against his for a soft kiss which he smiled into. “It’s no problem at all.” I paused before pulling away, “So I suppose you’re wondering what your birthday present is.”

He jutted out his bottom lip slightly, before grinning. “Nope, not at all. Sorry, Marshall.”

I stared at the smile on his face, my eyes darting to every inch on his face, like he’d disappear any second and I was looking at him for the last time. I leaned forward, lips inches away from each other. “We can drop the subject for now, I guess… but,” I murmured, “you’ll have to get it eventually, you know.”

“I know, but for some reason, you don’t have it with you so I won’t ask any more questions.”

I laughed softly, and my mind was racing. I was stuck on this image of how the rest of the night could go. They were all lovely and fantastic, sure. But only one of them really meant something. I mean, you can only cuddle and watch your favourite movies so many times when you may or may not be in love with the person who’s lying next to you. The whole thing though made me feel kind of dirty, for some fucking reason. Like I’m the only one having these kind of “sexual” thoughts and I’m going to steal away his innocence. Not that he’s still a virgin, but still. I’m feeling ridiculously anxious about this. I haven’t been in a proper relationship where I care about the other person this much before. Are you supposed to say I love you before you have sex? Or maybe more importantly, does he think that? Shit.

“Don’t think so hard, you look like you’re causing yourself physical strain.”

The smirk on his face was so playful, and just barely there due to his near inability to be at all offensive, that I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and give him another kiss. It lasted longer, his fingers finding themselves in my hair and it would be so easy to take it as a “go all the way home” sign, sort of thing. But I didn’t want to assume. Fuck, why am I overthinking things so much lately. I wasn’t this way before I met Zeke.

His body subconsciously curved itself over mine, every bone and vein I could feel and touch. Taste if I wanted to. “Zeke… should we maybe move… into my bedroom?” Jesus. Smooth, Marshall Dolan. How are the men not lining up on the shitty doorstep of your mediocre apartment.

That immediately got his attention, our lips breaking apart with a soft pop that rang in my ears. His face was flushed, for multiple reasons. I wanted to try and guess what he was thinking, read the emotion that might be reflected back to me from his eyes, but they were lowered to my chest. His fingers were grazing my sides mindlessly, his breathing soft and controlled.

“Okay.”

I smiled, just a little. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. It is my birthday, after all. And…”

“And what?”

He shook his head, “Never mind. Too cheesy, it’ll ruin any potential moments we may have in the next ten minutes.”

I sat up straighter, half way off the couch to pull him up with me. “Now you have to say it,” I chuckled.

Zeke looked down on me, licking his lips as we ventured down the hall and into my room. I didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed at how empty and completely impersonal it was. I knew he wouldn’t mind, and I certainly couldn’t say that I did.

“I care a lot about you. More than anyone that’s been in my life for a long time. And that I’m glad that it’s you that can be with me like this on my birthday.”

“I love you,” I blurted out, my heart beating too fast and the blood rushing to my head. I’ve known how I felt about him for a long time, though. Maybe not completely aware, but it was there. How he makes me feel, and how even though I’m only nineteen, this relationship doesn’t feel half assed and momentary.

His bright blue eyes widened slightly, seeming surprised for some reason, and that bothered me. Like for some strange, screwed up reason, I was lying about it. That I didn’t mean them. You could tell by the way his tongue was perched on the bottom of his lip that the question “Why?” was about to spill out. Instead though, he pressed his body against mine in an embrace, wrapping his arms around me as I buried my face in his upper chest.

“I love you, too.”

Apparently, that was all I really needed to hear. I gently untangled us so it was easier to place a kiss in the nape of his neck, something that caused him to groan quietly. His fingers hesitantly found their way underneath my shirt, and I couldn’t help me smile at how amazing Zeke is, even in this situation. I shouldn’t be surprised though, shit. I also hope that he doesn’t think that this is my “present” to him. I’m so special and attractive and interesting that he gets my dick for a gift. Hopefully he realizes, especially now, that he means quite a bit more to me than that.

Our lips were finding each other faster now, way more urgent than before. I was exhaling too loudly through my nose, not wanting to break away from him. He was perfect, his chest falling and rising so quickly, his slight rib cage was so fucking attractive to me. We were both at ease, suddenly, hopefully the anxiety of his birthday and turning twenty two and being “way much” older than me was far from his mind, and this would be amazing.

-

My eyes have been open for hours. Figuring that the tickets to the art show may or may not be downstairs in my mailbox, I’ve been sort of anxious. You know, trying to ignore the want to just fuck all, dash out of bed and get them. But I don’t want to wake him up, Jesus. I realized earlier that he’s a light sleeper when I had to go to the bathroom. It doesn’t matter much, I’ve been keeping myself busy by reliving last night’s events in my mind over and over. I don’t know how to describe it; maybe I shouldn’t bother because trying to find “cute” words will just ruin it. This small, sort of awkward smile, has been on my face all morning.

I looked down on him, his legs still tangled with mine, and his body curled so that his face could bury itself into my neck. His breath was cold, and welcoming.

“Good morning,” he murmured finally, wrinkling his nose as he stretched out his limbs.

I ran a hand through his hair, laughing a little. “Morning.”

Zeke stared at me for a moment, before smiling softly, and leaning back against me. I love how he’s so much taller than me (which I’m starting to get over, it’s kind of stupid being annoyed with something as irrelevant as your height since you can’t help it) and yet he’s still the one who cuddles into me. It’s a nice feeling.