Well Written

14. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Marcus

" N o," Kane says, his lip trembling. Rainwater pools onto the hardwood floor of Well Written Books as I step inside, closer to him. He continues shaking his head. " No, Marcus. You can't just— You don't get to just show up after all this time and expect me to welcome you with open arms. Not after you left the way you did. You didn't look for me. You didn't even try to reach out. You sat over in the fucking desert on your pillar of success while I was here cleaning up the mess you created. I know I kissed you the other night, and I'm sorry if you thought that was anything more than a lapse of judgement. But I can't— we can't just pick up like the last twenty years never happened."

Kane's eyes fill with tears as he speaks, and his voice shakes. I take another step closer to him, water pooling up from the soles of my shoes as my weight shifts. But Kane doesn't budge. He doesn't move closer to me, but he doesn't move further away either. And it's that little detail that tells me it isn't time to give up.

Not yet.

"Why not?" I ask it calmly. Coolly. Sincerely. And I think it shocks him that I didn't simply turn away.

That's what I would have done, in the beginning. It's what I always did when he asked for more. But I'm not scared of losing my parents' approval, or being open about my sexuality. The only thing I'm scared of is losing Kane forever.

Kane lets out a humorless laugh, and he looks around the store as if the answers lie within the shelves of it. His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth until his eyes reluctantly meet mine.

"Because—" An exasperated sigh escapes his lips, and he throws his hands up irately. "They did happen! And now I've changed. And you've changed. And things are different, and-"

"And that's exactly what they need to be, Kane. Different. Don't you see? We've been given another chance at this. One where I'm out, and you're living. Not just surviving, but living , Kane."

"Yeah?" he asks aggressively, his chest heaving. He takes a step closer to me, his pointer finger digging into my sternum. His face is only inches from mine, and I can make out every crease in his skin, and every hair in his beard. "What's the difference between the two, Marcus? Enlighten me, because I have never, not once , felt like I've been living."

"You know what your problem is, Kane? Your problem is that you are addicted to being sad. You have spent so long feeling the way you feel, that any time another emotion begins to flood your senses, you panic. That's why you read sad books. It's why you watch sad movies. It's why you're running from this. Because you know it's what you want, and it scares you that you might actually end up happy. You want to know the difference between living and surviving?"

Kane's breath brushes against my lips, his thick brows furrowed together. "What?"

"The difference is that now, you want to want to try. That's living. And it isn't always nice, and it's almost never easy. But it's beautiful, and it's messy, and if you allow it to, it will bring you little moments of happiness. They're fleeting, and so easy to miss, but they're there. You just have to fucking let them be."

My jaw tenses as my back teeth clench together, my lungs expanding and deflating at a rate so rapid, my vision begins to blur. But my nerves work just the same, and I can feel the pressure of Kane's finger gently lift from my chest.

"You piss me off," he mutters bitterly. His breath paints my lips, and his chest brushes against my ribcage as his lungs expand. I swallow.

"I know."

My hand snakes around the back of his neck, pulling him into me until our lips crash together. Kane, surprisingly, melts into it completely.

"I still hate you," he mumbles through heavy breaths. I fight back a smile as I press my lips against his, my tongue slipping ever so slightly into the cut of his teeth. Feeling him so close to me, tasting his lips in this desirous way, makes all the blood in my face rush to the pulsing cock centered between my thighs.

I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, then let it pop back into place. "Whatever you say, handsome."

Kane's fingers travel to the back of my head, tugging gently on the short strands. As his body presses against mine, his hardened muscle settles between my legs. The pulse of it entices a desperate moan to slip from my lips, and I pull him into me even closer. My back falls against the door, crushing the blinds beneath my weight. Kane's body follows my path, the warmth of his body glued to mine in a breathy heap.

"This is such a bad idea," he whispers airily, running his fingers up the front of my shirt. The soft pads of his fingertips trace the outline of my muscles, drifting over each one like waves crashing over rock.

"Why?" I ask, pushing my hips forward into him. His head tosses back, and he lets out a weak groan.

"Because I'm not going to know how to stop."

I let one arm loose from Kane's waist, drawing it up to his face to brush his soft, brown hair from his wanting eyes. "Then don't."

The blinds beneath me rattle as Kane hastily tugs my shirt over my head. Cool air seeps from the mist-stained door into the skin of my back, but I don't care. I just pull Kane closer to me, allowing his body to warm mine. There is nothing like this polarity, cold and hot, hate and love. It settles a need deep in my stomach, a desire to find the center of it all.

Loud breaths spill from my mouth as Kane attaches his lips to the tender spot on the underside of my jaw. My fingers find the buttons on the front of his shirt, and I quickly, but carefully, undo them, no matter how badly I wish to rip them off instead. As his hair-covered chest exposes, he sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth, forcing a slight wince out of me, and causing the hardened muscle between my legs to jump.

"Sorry," he says, a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. I pull his shirt down his shoulders, and toss it somewhere into the abyss of the shelves.

"Don't lie."

A thick finger dips into the waistband of my pants, tracing along the seam of my briefs. He leans in, his lips grazing against the shell of my ear.

"Okay," he whispers. "I'm not sorry."

Then, his finger travels below the elastic. Slowly. Delicately. Intimately. It paints pictures on my skin, soft circles getting closer and closer to my hardened cock. Tension builds in my jaw as it clenches, my breath hitching while my hips involuntarily buck forward. Kane's beard tickles my cheek, and his hand draws up, hooking his fingers on the band of my briefs, and pulling down gently, the pants above them following. As the fabric falls to my feet, Kane sinks to his knees.

And that's enough.

Just seeing him, kneeling in front of me, staring up with those dark brown, insatiable eyes, is enough to make me collapse. My knees shake as his hand draws up from my ankle to my thigh, tracing delicately along the inside of it before he finally travels over to my throbbing, needy cock. His tawny beige hand wraps around it, and I swear the remainder of the blood in my body all rushes to the muscle gripped within his fingertips. His eyes lock with mine, gazing through that messy brown head of hair as he sticks out his tongue, and gently licks the dripping tip.

"Oh fuck," I whine, one hand steadying my balance against the door as the other feathers his hair between my fingers, gripping it gently. Kane continues, his hand stabilizing the base of my needy cock as his mouth opens wider, taking the first inch of it into his mouth. A wet, warm sensation washes over me, shuddered breaths escaping my trembling lips as he bobs his head, allowing me to go deeper. His tongue is textured, but smooth, and it is the best thing I have ever felt in my entire life. I don't know how I went twenty years without something as delicious and fulfilling as this. But I know I never want to do it again.

"Kane," I mumble. He begins to stroke me gently, taking me out of his mouth and tracing the bulging vein down the side of my length. Then, he glances up at me. "I didn't-" A shaky breath fumbles from my lips, and I remove my hand from his hair, tracing my fingers along his jaw until I reach his chin, tilting it upwards. "I didn't come here to just fuck you. You know that, right? I want— Well I want you forever. I want to do all the things I should have done then. Sit in the window nook and read to you as I stroke your hair. I want to kiss you in the middle of Rita's and tackle you on the beach. I want to write you love letters again. This isn't just… I don't want to do this if it's going to end with me leaving tomorrow and never seeing you again."

Kane stares up at me, a dimpled smile settled into the curve of his lips.

"You're so fucking gay Marcus," he teases, biting the corner of his lip to hide his smile. But it doesn't work, and the most adorable, taunting grin breaks across his face. I roll my eyes, but can feel the tension of my own smile tugging on my lips.

"So gay," I murmur, and Kane's eyes shimmer as he takes me back into his mouth, tipping his head forward until his lips reach the base. I feel the soft ball of flesh in the back of his throat grazing against the tip of my cock as he devours me, fully and entirely. Goosebumps wash over my skin as his throat dances around my dick, soft moans choked back by the thrumming muscle. My desperate groans, however, flow from my mouth loudly each time Kane comes back for more. It's cosmic, the way my tip grows raw and sensitive, tingling against his warm tongue. What an exceptional idiot I was to ever give this up.

Tension builds in my core as Kane's throat vibrates against me. My cock constricts at the sensation, every muscle in my body tightening as well. My heart pounds so loud I can't hear the rain against the door or the rattle of the blinds behind me. The only sound funneling into my ears is the repetitive thump, thump, thump. It gets faster as my breath increases, rapid air moving in and out of my lungs as if it were never really there at all. My eyes squeeze shut as Kane thrusts my cock into the very back of his throat, causing everything around me to go dark. Stars fill the galaxy forming behind my eyelids, white shining spots spreading and moving as Kane's hand follows the path of his lips. My core grows tighter, and I tug desperately at the hair now gripped between my fingers as I feel myself tip. Like I've been standing at the edge of a cliff, toes hovering over the jagged ridge, until finally, I just fall. My toes curl, digging into the hardwood floor as needy prayers tumble from my lips.

"Fuck Kane," I moan, still staring at the kinetic stars around me. "I need you. Holy fuck, I need you so badly." Kane's pace quickens, and one hand travels to the underside of my cock, gently squeezing my balls between his warm, sweating palms. "Oh god, just like that, Kane. Don't stop."

Kane obeys, massaging the soft, tender balls of flesh while his mouth continues the synchronous dance of his tongue against my muscle. And just as his thumb grazes my perinium, I feel it. The rock beneath my feet crumbles, and something inside of my stomach pulls so tight, it feels as though it may explode. And then, as the stars around me turn into white, blinding light, Kane pulls back, settling my tip onto his tongue, and stroking me as he swallows the cum that streams from my release. My eyes open, my knees buckling as I absorb the affair, watching as he devours every drop of the hot substance. It pools around the left corner of his lip, and Kane stares up at me hungrily as I take my trembling hand, swipe the droplet with my thumb, then suck it gently into my mouth.

"I need you," he says, in a breathy, needy moan. "Now, please."