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Cub is sitting on the stoop when Marcus and Uncle Max return from their walk.
Legs drawn up, chin propped on knees. Completely dejected and hiding in the shadow cast by a large potted plant. His posture is at odds with the bright summer sunshine flooding the front of the building. Cub looks up with those dark eyes, a hint of sullen indignation still evident. Guilty sulking. Looking three years old instead of twenty-one.
Uncle Max smiles, amused. He stands at the bottom of the steps, hands in pockets, perfectly happy to observe the situation.
Marcus sighs, less amused. He squats next to the younger man, glad that the warmer weather has been kind to his leg injury. A sympathetic smile curves his mouth. “ Forget your key, mate?” Esca hadn’t said anything about going out, but it was always a possibility.
Cub shakes his silver head. Turns his gaze away, staring at the flickering shadows on the wall. His callused fingertips pick at the frayed edges of his jeans.
Marcus looks up at a loud noise from inside. Like something being knocked to the floor. It’s followed by a muffled cursing. Marcus recognizes the Gaelic obscenities and notices Cub flinch at his name included among them.
Ah. A fight. Marcus closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. His lover and protegee often disagree, and it is not unusual to find Cub moping on the front stoop and Esca smoking on the back stoop.
But this seems different and Marcus can only imagine it’s cause. He casts an imploring glance at his uncle.
Uncle Max catches it and rolls his eyes. He quietly clears his throat. “ Cub my lad, I just got in this wonderful first person account on sheep farming in the Highlands... ”
Cub takes the hint and the offer of comfort. Marcus knows he knows that Uncle Max always has plenty of tea and biscuits handy. It’s enough to get the young man up and moving, dragging his feet as he follows Uncle Max. Up the steps, into Uncle’s flat.
Marcus waits until he hears the door shut behind them before standing. He stretches, not even grimacing at the slight pull in his thigh muscles. Debates going inside or hiding at his Uncle’s flat with Cub until this blows over. In their relationship, Esca is the steadfast one. The calm one. The sane one, most would say. Hard to rile, quick to cool.
So if Esca is in a bad enough mood to still be trashing the flat, then a strategic distance would be wise.
Another loud thud. And another. Definitely the sound of fists hitting drywall.
Without another thought, Marcus opens the door and steps inside.
A glimpse of a dark shirt in the kitchen doorway. Shuffling noises. Another thud.
Marcus approaches cautiously. “ Esca? It’s just me.” He drops his keys on the entry table, slowly makes his way to the back of the flat. Marcus notices two dents and one clean hole in the kitchen wall as he shuffles past the corner. His uncle is going to have a fit. Esca stands in front of the sink, staring out the window, back facing Marcus. His ears and back of his neck are flaming red. There’s something in his tightly clenched fist, but Marcus can’t tell what. “ Any particular reason you’re tearing the place up?”
He dreads this, doesn’t want to know what happened to cause such a scene. Esca appears truly upset, not merely aggravated by one of Cub’s immature faux pas.
Marcus shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and sidles next to Esca, elbow barely brushing his arm. Stares out the same window. Just waiting for Esca to answer him. Or hit him. Whatever.
A few minutes pass. A few aborted attempts from Esca. Marcus waits patiently and finally his lover manages a quiet, tight, “ Cub took one of my fags.”
Marcus makes sure there is no outward change in his expression. Possibly a flutter of his eye brow, but nothing too overt. Inside, he’s both surprised and concerned. At both Cub’s action and Esca’s strong reaction. It’s not like Esca to give a shit about Cub bumming things.
He glances down and finally recognizes the crumpled pack in Esca’s fist. Benson & Hedges Silver. A theory begins to grow. “ Well... he’s old enough, legally. And I can’t believe he hasn’t tried smoking before now, considering his lifestyle.” As far as Marcus is aware, Cub has never indulged in anything other than alcohol, despite spending most of his nights in smoky pubs and discos and student parties. And it made more sense to bum a cig from Esca’s pack than to buy a whole pack just to try one. “ We should’ve expected it.” A quick look at Esca’s face confirms the man’s distress. His grey eyes are watery, cheeks flushed, jaw working furiously.
Which means that Esca is upset about something more complicated. “ Especially when he sees me going through a pack a day.” Direct self-blame.
Esca is a very strong person, stronger than anyone Marcus has ever known. Marcus has seen Esca calmly face down nearly every disaster fate has tossed his way. Unshaken. Unflappable. Unperturbed.
There’s only one thing that has consistently gotten under Esca’s skin and Marcus has never made any mention of it. Of Esca’s private battle with cigarettes. He knows Esca has tried to quit before, watched the fidgits and irritation and the final sneaking of fags in the middle of the night. Never said a word, giving Esca time and space to break the habit on his own. Nothing said when the attempts failed and Marcus’ heart ached to see his lover’s frustration.
But now...
“ Esca, I don’t think that’s the reason Cub tried it. You know how he is.” Marcus tries to ease his lover’s guilt. Not dishonestly, he believes what he says. “ Poor impulse control. Probably saw the pack and just got it into his head to try one. Probably wouldn’t smoke another after the first.”
“ Or he could have gotten hooked.” Esca grits it out between clenched teeth. Grey eyes flick to the side, a slight tilt of his face toward Marcus. Despair clearly written in his expression. “ Just like me.” The cellophane pack crinkles in his hand. Esca looks back out the window.
Marcus frowns. He’s still trying to grasp just why Esca is so bent out of shape. But maybe it doesn’t really matter. Or doesn’t matter as much as what, Marcus feels, is a turning point for Esca. He is pretty sure that this is very close to hitting rock bottom for Esca.
“ I’m quitting.”
Marcus has never heard him say that out loud before, despite witnessing his subtle attempts to quit. He nods, shifting from foot to foot. Arm brushing Esca’s. “ I’ll help, you know. Any way I can.”
He listens to Esca taking a deep breath. Hears him shift. Hears the light thunk and slide of the cigarette pack being tossed into the bin. Esca never takes his eyes from the window.
Marcus slips his arm across Esca’s shoulders. He leans in and presses a kiss to his temple, noses in the hair above his ear. “ You can do this.” Esca nods, but remains silent. Marcus pulls him in tighter. Makes a decision, for better or worse. “ We should probably rescue Uncle Max pretty soon. Or Cub will eat him out of house and home.” That gains him a laugh and Marcus smiles along with his lover.
And silently vows to fish the cigs out of the bin and put them down the disposal.
Esca and Cub made up that afternoon, of course. Esca’s plan to quit smoking was made public, enlisting the help of Cub and Uncle Max in his endeavor. And adding another level of accountability.
Marcus had watched Esca reach for his back pocket numerous times. Had watched the faltering hand smooth down his jeans or ruffle his wild hair before Esca set his jaw and moved on to something else. Had seen the surreptitious search of the bottom of the bin. He’d woken up several times due to his lover tossing and turning in the bed, grumbling and groaning quietly, hands unable to stop twisting in the blankets. Each time, Marcus had soothed the best he could. Distracting with kisses and touches until they were both able to settle down to sleep.
The next day was tense, but full of promise. Esca ingested two pots of black coffee, chewed gum with enthusiasm, and did not join his coworkers on smoke breaks all through his clinic shift. Cub had gone out of his way to keep Esca’s mind off the cancer-sticks by pleading for help in his studies- something the young man rarely asked for.
Marcus watches Esca walk back and forth from the front room to the kitchen; listening to the fridge and pantry doors open and close at regular intervals. A small cough, an aching head. A moment of dizziness upon rising from the couch too quickly. Cub looks up from his books each time Esca walks by, holding out his own bag of teriyaki beef jerky in offering. The older man gives a tight smile and shakes his head, flops back onto the couch beside Marcus.
The process repeats every quarter hour until everyone retires to their rooms.
Marcus completes his nightly routine first and reads a magazine in bed, waiting for Esca to finish brushing his teeth. It seems to take him longer than usual. Perhaps trying to scrub away the craving for tobacco. Esca eventually shuffles into the room and wearily crawls under the blanket. Marcus puts the mag away, turns toward him. Studies the drawn face, the rueful smile given to his inspection. Esca’s voice is rough. “ I hate this.”
“ But you can do it.” Marcus is all about encouragement.
“ Remind me again, why I’m doing this.” Esca buries his face in the pillow. His thumb and first finger continue to worry the corner of the pillowcase. Knuckles white, veins clearly defined.
“ For Cub’s sake, I believe it was. Encouraging healthy habits and whatnot.” Marcus speaks quietly, smiling at the bent head.
“ Bollocks. So what do I get out of the bargain?” He turns his face, one eye and cheek exposed. Esca’s fingernails are very close to actually scraping a tear in the fabric.
“ I’d have thought that was enough reward.” Marcus teases. He knows how fond Esca is of Cub, how responsible he feels for the young man. Setting a bad example has always weighed heavily on Esca’s conscious. At his lover’s pathetic groan, Marcus tries again. “ Well, you’ve never had too much trouble with your health, but maybe those summer colds won’t plague you so much. Save your quid for petrol or pints. Won’t have to stand outside in the rain, cold, or heat just to have a fag. A few extra years of my company. ”
“ I can barely breathe. My chest is about to implode. My head’s killing me. “ Esca gripes plaintively and pushes his face back into the pillow. His fingers are visibly shaking on the case. “ Nothing is worth this misery.”
Marcus’ heart aches for the man. He quirks his mouth in deep concentration and gently combs his fingers through Esca’s sweaty hair. “ What if... what if I made it worth it?” He isn’t exactly sure what he can offer Esca in exchange for not smoking.
Esca looks back up. Confused. “ How?”
Marcus shrugs. Still wracking his brain for ideas. “ If you stay with it...” When bribing Cub, he uses a long-term promise; the young man aces his exams, he gets a mini-holiday to Dublin. But, recalling his own experiences in these matters, Marcus knows long term won’t work. Esca is holding on minute-to-minute. Easily overwhelmed by larger, abstract amounts of time. So, this will have to be a daily reward, given as often as needed for an indeterminate period. Hmmm...“ All the mini-Snickers you want?”
“ Already going to gain weight as it is.”
“ No more paperwork duty at the clinic?”
“ Not practical.”
“ No more laundry duty, here and at the clinic?”
A slight pause. “ Again, not practical.” Esca rubs his forehead against the mashed pillow.
Marcus frowns, getting desperate. “ Back rubs every day?”
A longer pause. Esca shifts slightly. “ Well...”
He’s on the fence, Marcus can tell. He makes a split second decision and pulls out his only ace. “ Blow job every day?” He’s ashamed of the unpleasant reluctance even as he says it.
Esca freezes. Marcus holds his breath. It’s a risky move and he’s not sure how Esca will respond.
On one hand, Esca loves them, Marcus knows this. Loves Marcus’ lack of finesse and his clumsy fumbling during oral sex. The shamefaced blush, the aroused flush, painting his face red as he licks and sucks. Loves it when he’s able to catch Marcus’ gaze flickering up to watch.
On the other hand, Esca knows that Marcus doesn’t really like to do it. Knows Marcus has certain hang-ups from his upbringing that cause a great deal of discomfort during the act. Understands the guilt involved. And understands Marcus’ determination to make Esca feel good simply because Marcus loves to make Esca feel good despite his dislike.
So, Esca will either accept the offer, appreciating this little gesture of Marcus’. Or, Esca will consider it too great a sacrifice for Marcus to make for what is essentially Esca’s problem.
“ That’s... thanks for offering, Marcus.” Esca closes his eyes. Fingers clench in the sheet.“ But you don’t have to.”
“ I know I don’t. I want to do it.” Marcus is set on it now. Convinced this plan will work. “ Every day you go without cigarettes, I’ll suck you off to the best of my ability.” He smiles broadly, tweaking Esca’s nose, trying to lighten the mood and get him to agree. “ You try your best, and I’ll try my best!” He can do this. For Esca’s sake. “ Deal?” Marcus leans in, bumping his forehead against his lover’s temple. Staring at the closed eyelid. Hoping.
“ … Why are you so maddeningly helpful?” Esca’s smile is evident in his rough voice. His hand raises, smooths along Marcus’ jaw. Shaking slightly. Lingering scent of onions on his fingers from cooking dinner.
Marcus grins and tilts his face, catching a finger between his teeth for a moment. Sucking, teasing. The onion doesn’t taste as strong as it smells. “ Because you’re so adorably stubborn.” Esca chuffs a little laugh and Marcus softens his expression. Folds his hand over Esca’s, holding it firmly. Stills the trembling. “ Not a single puff all day? I think it’s time for your reward.”
Esca’s breath hitches noticeably.
Marcus takes a brief moment to reach behind him and turn off the light.
Dark. And Marcus can still feel the light tremors in the body beside him. He hates this. So much. Hates Esca’s suffering. Marcus slides his body against Esca’s, pressing as close as physically possible. Takes those trembling hands in his own and tenderly presses them into the pillow on either side of the dark head. Foreheads touching, nose to nose, lips just brushing. It’s odd, different. Marcus still isn’t accustomed to the taste of Esca’s mouth without the taint of stale smoke. Nothing but toothpaste and saliva. Not even a hint of the stew they had for dinner.
“ M-Marcus, really... you don’t hav-ah!” Esca cries out at the press of Marcus’ thigh between his legs. Then turns his head to have a coughing fit.
Marcus pulls back, giving the younger man more space to breathe. Gently rubs his thumbs over the insides of Esca’s wrists, soothing. Takes the opportunity to let his eyes adjust to the dimness and watch the muscles working in the stubbled jaw and neck. It takes Esca a few moments to settle down, small twitches as he swallows. Looks apologetically up at Marcus. “ Sorry ‘bout that.”
Marcus shakes his head, nuzzles against the mutilated ear, and mouths wetly down Esca’s neck. The pulse under his lips is pounding beneath the thin skin. Marcus licks over the hot spot and oh so carefully drags the edge of his teeth down the line of the younger man’s throat. A slight catch at the Adam’s Apple. Esca moans. Marcus grins enthusiastically.
He tosses the sheet further down the bed as he moves over the lean body. Taste of salt, Esca sweating heavily even in the cool breeze flowing from the open window. Those shaking hands move with him. Gripping his shoulder. Clumsily petting his hair. Coughing and whispering. Marcus’s gaze follows the dark lines of ink flowing over his lover’s shoulders and chest. Kisses where the tattoo marks the skin over Esca’s heart. He briefly flicks his tongue over each pert nipple and continues down until he reaches the flat stomach.
And that irresistible dip of navel.
Marcus shivers, traces Esca’s bellybutton with the tip of his tongue. Enjoys the responding tremor that sweeps along the lithe form. Esca arches as Marcus’ canine tooth catches in the dimple of flesh, tugging slightly, before he moves lower to the waistband of Esca’s boxers.
“ Marcus, right there, nghnn!”
“ Shhhh, you’ll wake up Cub.”
“ Ahahh, fu-fucking hell...”
Chuckling quietly, Marcus eases up the pressure of his kiss on the sensitive spot. It’s very small, down low, near the crease of Esca’s thigh. Something about it turns Esca into a mess of overwrought nerves and Marcus loves to exploit it. But it’s not the time for that, and he turns his attention back to the frayed edge of the waistband. Lips pulling the fabric lower. Nose following along the trail of thin hairs to the coarse patch between Esca’s legs. The thickness still hidden under the boxers slides along Marcus’ cheek, stiff and hot through the cotton. Marcus pauses as Esca takes in a deep breath and he can tell the younger man is doing his best to contain another coughing jag. Another deep breath, and one more. A slow sigh and Marcus proceeds to hook his fingers over the elastic and tugs the boxers down to mid-thigh.
Esca’s cock eagerly bounces free, tapping lightly against his taut stomach. Marcus immediately takes it in hand. Silky smooth skin, throbbing, hot. He rubs the pad of his thumb along the prominent vein, just touches the shiny head peeking out of the foreskin. Nostrils flaring at the heavy scent of musk and sweat. It’s arousing. As well as a bit offputting.
Marcus’s mouth is watering. His stomach churns. Not for the first time, he silently curses his narrow, guilt driven childhood. And buries his face in the dark curls. Roots around in hair and flesh like a suckling looking for a teat. Marcus smiles at Esca’s whispered encouragments, his fingers constantly flexing in Marcus’ hair.
He’s stalling. Marcus hopes Esca doesn’t realize it. Knows that he does. He takes in a deep breath of body warmed air, closes his eyes, and opens his mouth. Easy to smooth his tongue up the side. To swirl it around the partially sheathed head. The taste is stronger here, at the stretched opening where clear fluid is already welling up from the slit. Marcus shudders, equal parts distaste and arousal and a deeply rooted shame of both emotions. He pushes his own thoughts and feelings on the matter aside. This is for Esca. He’s doing this for Esca, like always. Except the stakes are a bit higher now.
Mouth open wide. Tongue thrust forward to glide smoothly along the underside of Esca’s length. Fingers curling at the base. Marcus holds his lover’s cock upright and pushes his mouth down to meet his fist. Thick flesh completely covered. He works his fist up and down in small motions, gripping firmly.
He likes this. The mild taste of warm flesh, stronger at the leaking tip. A strange contrast as he sucks harder, cheeks hollowing out as he pulls up, tongue flat over the rounded head. Marcus adjusts his grip and pulls the foreskin down. Difference in texture. Increase in heat. He takes a small breath around his mouthful.
Marcus shouldn’t like this. He shouldn’t. His father would be appalled. Horrified and ashamed of Marcus performing this degrading act.
Esca whimpers, wiggles under Marcus’ weight. “ So good, Marcus. L-love it, perfect!”
But it gives Esca pleasure. Moaning low. Sweaty and smiling and beautiful.
Those hands clench tight in Marcus’ hair. Blunt nails raking across his scalp, just above his ears. Esca’s close. Marcus reaches between his own legs and fumbles with the waist of his boxers. A hand thrusts inside. He handles himself roughly, just wanting to catch up to Esca’s pleasure. It doesn’t take long, the uneasy guilt fully overthrown by lust and love and the sudden explosion of heat filling his mouth.
The taste... Marcus doesn’t hate it, never has. But neither is it syrup and Marcus does not swallow. Lips part slightly. Fluids fall freely down the wilting shaft, sliding over Marcus’ fingers. Semen and saliva running in rivers. He knows Esca would love for him to swallow. But Marcus just can’t.
Marcus does force himself to hold on, to keep the softening flesh in his mouth as he finishes himself off. His own orgasm splatters the inside of his boxers and leaves him a gasping wreck. Esca’s cock slips from his grasp. Marcus swipes the inside of his mouth with his tongue and pushes the remaining fluids into the palm of his soiled hand.
He’s ashamed of that. Knows Esca doesn’t hold it against him. Marcus turns his head in the darkness and wipes his open mouth on his forearm. Wipes his full, slimy palm on his wet boxers before taking the things off. Uses them to clean off Esca’s sticky flesh. Drops them over the side of the bed.
Marcus crawls back up the bed and fits their bodies close together. Esca kisses him, deep and searching. Marcus enjoys the familiar taste and texture of spit wiping out the last remnants of bitter salt from his mouth. He knows Esca enjoys tasting himself on Marcus’ tongue.
Silently, Marcus swears he will make this worth Esca’s efforts to withstand the hell of withdrawal.
Nothing is said out loud. They sprawl under the blanket in sated comfort.
The second day, Esca seemed in good spirits, despite sweating profusely. The cough and headache had gotten worse, as well. But, he was determined. He had one pot of coffee and sucked down cough drops like mad. He laughed and tapped his fingers against his forearms and took aspirin. And then a few stupid pet owners. Arguing over a bill. Care instructions not followed through. A sheepdog trembling with agony from an inoperable tumor, its owner stubbornly refusing to accept the diagnosis.
Afterward. Cub had taken an extra long break. Marcus had taken a moment alone in the office. Esca had nearly broken a toe kicking the dumpster out back.
It’s been several hours since Marcus finished his shift and returned home to find Cub eating a fry-up for dinner. And Esca starting on his second bag of crisps, instead of the fry-up getting cold on the table.
Nearly bedtime now, and Esca is still working on the second bag of chips, belching quietly after each swig of Mr. Pims. Marcus doesn’t say anything, but he wrinkles his nose up each time. Cub looks up from his game, sniffs and makes a face. Esca doesn’t seem to notice, or care.
The bag crinkles and crunches. Esca gives a frustrated sigh and wads up the empty bag. “ Taking a shower.”
Marcus gives a quiet, “ ‘Kay,” and Cub tips his chin up in acknowledgement. Marcus keeps his gaze on Esca. The younger man heaves himself from the couch, swaying slightly, and finally gets his feet moving toward the stairs. Esca tosses the bag into the bin near the front door before heading upstairs. Marcus watches him until he disappears above the ceiling line.
There’s a touch on his foot. ‘ I don’t think he’s going to make it.’ Cub has put his game controller down, the soldier on the screen shifting from foot to foot on stand-by.
Marcus frowns, signing back as he answers. “ He’s fine. Don’t be a prat.”
‘ Not a prat. He’s cracking up.’ The patient, resigned expression on Cub’s face is very telling.
“ I’ve got a handle on it. Don’t worry.” Marcus doesn’t sign this time, his voice a bit hard. “ You just keep doing your part and fucking appreciate what Esca’s trying to do for you.” He instantly regrets the harshness in his reply. Sees Cub’s face stiffen as he shrugs and turns back to his game. Marcus sighs, and rocks onto his feet. “ Sorry, mate. Seems I’m not holding up very well, either.” He sits beside Cub, ruffling his silver hair. And playfully biting his ear. Cub jumps, but keeps his focus on the game, snickering quietly.
Marcus spends some time watching Cub thoroughly thrash his high score, the dull roar of the shower a vague background noise. Just present on the edge of Marcus’ awareness. Aggravating. It ends abruptly, just as Cub’s soldier gets thrown against a wall by an IED. Cub snorts in disgust, clicking his tongue in a familiar gesture of frustration. Marcus stands, this time patting the young man’s shoulder. “ Don’t stay up too late.” He leaves his protegee with that last reminder and unhurriedly climbs the stairs to his bedroom.
Humid air washes over Marcus as he opens their bedroom door. Toothpaste scented steam. Esca hovers at the side of the bed, pulling on a pair of threadbare boxers. Marcus closes the door, approaches him and tugs on the end of the damp towel draped over Esca’s wet head. Wraps his body around him from behind. “ Feel a bit better, love?” Marcus noses against the towel, trying to get at the man’s bare neck.
Despite the heat in the room, Esca’s skin is covered in goosebumps. He coughs lightly. “ Yeah. Ate too much, though.”
“ Too much junk, you mean.” Marcus mumbles into newly found skin. Lips smoothing down neck and shoulder, loving the subtle difference between tattoos and unmarked skin. He slips his hand lower to gently rub Esca’s belly. Soothing the tummy ache as best he can- short of offering the antacids he knows Esca has already consumed in quantity.
Esca grunts and pulls the towel from his head. Marcus frowns as the nubbly material whips across his face. “ Mucked up day. But you did good, you know.” He presses his cheek against the wet hair. Esca grunts again. Noncommittal. Marcus pulls him a bit closer, enjoying the feel of the smaller body pressed against his own. “ No fags, so your reward is still valid. If you feel up to it. “ Sex is a powerful motivator, but Marcus knows that nausea can stomp on any man’s libido. Last thing he wants to do is churn up the contents of Esca’s stomach. Not fun for either of them. He can hear the muffled thundering of Cub’s game through the floor. Hopes his uncle isn’t trying to sleep next door. Is glad his right-hand neighbor is very hard of hearing.
“ Up to it, just... maybe something easier than what we talked about this morning.” Esca moans softly as Marcus sucks on his cropped ear.
Marcus chuckles at the memory. In order to get his lover enthusiastic about the coming day of no smoking, he had whispered all sorts of kinky oral options to Esca over breakfast. Cub had left the table with a blatant hard-on tenting his pajama pants. Marcus had spent a large part of his day thinking of tonight’s reward, and covertly reminding Esca with hidden expressions and hand gestures.
Now though, Marcus sees the good sense in taking it easy tonight. “ No worries. I’ll be gentle.”
That garners him a laugh. “ Not a virgin, just ill, you silly sod.” Esca’s head droops as Marcus kisses all over the back of his neck. “ Want to do something for you, too.”
“ You are. You didn’t smoke today.” Marcus makes a simple reply. He moves around Esca and eases him back onto the bed, careful to keep his weight off the smaller form. Fingers already slipping underneath the boxers, gripping hot flesh.
“ You know what I mean.” Esca tilts his head to the side, coughing.
Marcus gives him space, stills his hand. He watches Esca’s face relax as the coughing subsides. The sweat that springs up on his forehead is a bit worrying. It’s part of the withdrawal, of course, but disconcerting all the same. Especially in tandem with the random chills that send Esca shivering for his robe even this late in summer. Marcus wipes away the sheen with his palm. “ You don’t need to do anything for me, Esca. You’re hardly in any condition to do much anyway.”
Esca pushes his hand away, sits up and begins to shift on the bed. “ Just shut it and let me have my way. Since I’m in such a pitiful condition.”
Marcus rolls his eyes, but moves as guided. He settles himself on his side, like Esca. Facing him, in the opposite direction. Apparently, his weakened lover is in the mood for a little 69. Which makes sense. An easy position. Nothing too strenuous. And mutual satisfaction. Marcus curls his body a bit more, and slides his hand along Esca’s hip, just petting as the younger man stretches his body on the sheets. The height difference is always an obstacle.
“ Move your leg, Marcus.”
“ I’m trying. You’re not going to be able to breathe like that...”
“ It’s fine.”
“ Esca, you don’t have to-” Marcus is cut off, breath escaping him in a loud groan as chapped lips close around his foreskin, tugging, teasing. He gasps. Rests his forehead against Esca’s thighs. Closes his eyes and pushes forward to find the heated skin of the cock near his face.
Lingering scent of soap. Fresh sweat. Marcus breathes deep and nuzzles the pliant sack. He sucks the soft flesh into his mouth, tongue rolling around one of the firm orbs inside. Esca moans in the vicinity of his crotch. Vibrations thrumming along Marcus’ cock. It distracts him for a brief moment, before he can get his thoughts back onto the matter at hand. Marcus treats the other ball to the same routine, carefully pulling it into his mouth and laving tender ministrations on the velvety skin.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he notices the silence downstairs. Cub turning in for the night without being nagged.
Marcus manges to fold his arm under his head, pushes his hand between Esca’s knees, and gets a hand on the stiff member below his chin. Tips his chin up, mouth open wide. The smell and taste isn’t as strong as last night, the shower erasing most of Esca’s natural flavor. Even the small opening in the foreskin was only a bit saltier than the rest of his shaft. Marcus feels along the length with his thumb and first finger. Slight tug, shifting. Slowly pulling the foreskin down to expose the slick head and leaking slit.
It’s easier this time, like this. His eyes closed. Esca’s mouth on his cock. Giving and receiving the same pleasure. Harder to feel ashamed at his submissiveness, the penetration of his person.
Marcus does not attempt to reinvent the wheel, as it were. He merely repeats last night’s performance, gently licking and sucking and squeezing on the cock given to his care. The sloppiness doesn’t bother him, he doesn’t care about the slobber dripping profusely from the side of his mouth or the way his bottom lip brushes against the coarse hair at the base. Marcus’ hips twitch as he feels a calloused hand smoothing over his thigh, fingers curving along the cleft of his arse. The unsteady rhythm gliding up and down his cock gains speed and Marcus barely remembers to keep his end of the deal as his hand scrabbles helplessly in the small of Esca’s back.
Spurt and sputter into Esca’s inviting mouth. Shame at finishing so quickly.
Marcus tightens his grip on his lover and sucks harder than ever, tongue mercilessly torturing the swollen head. Only a few seconds more and he’s taken off guard by the rush of hot fluid. Marcus coughs, head whipping back to let the following jets of cum streak across his neck and shoulder. He spits quietly onto the blanket and doesn’t even flinch when he rests his cheek in the mess.
He realizes, finally, that his own softening member is still enveloped in Esca’s hot mouth. His lover is still gently mouthing his wilting flesh, tongue sliding effortlessly, lips rubbing softly near the base. To make up for his own lack, Marcus lifts his head and kisses Esca’s hip and thigh. Brushes his sticky cheek over sweaty skin. Smooths his hand over the upset belly. He waits until he feels a cool breeze across his crotch before speaking up. “ Ready?” Quiet whisper.
“ Yeah.” Just as quiet a reply.
Marcus hefts himself up, ignoring the pull in his back from being hunched forward. He watches Esca scoot up the sheets, getting his head onto the pillow, sinking into the cotton and feathers with a certain weariness in his expression. Marcus wipes them both down with the damp towel and removes the sticky blanket.
Turn off the light. Crawl onto the sheet beside Esca.
Marcus lies silently, just gazing at the shadowed face on the next pillow. More sweat on Esca’s brow, his upper lip. Shining in the flash of light through the cracks in the window blinds. Uneasy breathing, rough and congested and that persistent barking cough. Marcus pulls the sheet up to their waists. Brushes sweaty hair back from Esca’s forehead before kissing him gently. “ G’night, love you.”
“ Love you, Marcus.” Grating voice, a clumsy kiss on Marcus’ chin. “ Thanks, you know...”
Marcus merely grunts in reply and closes his eyes. An arm drapes over Esca’s side.
The third day passed without incident. Esca made it through without his nicotine fix. And Marcus took special pains to draw out their oral reward session that night.
Unfortunately, the fourth day was just hell on earth. And Marcus caught Esca lighting up a fag behind the dented dumpster. The struggle that followed was epic. And left them both with burns.
Back home, things aren’t much better. After separating an arguing Cub and Esca for the sixth time since dinner, Marcus sits on the couch and watches Cub huff off to his room while Esca storms around downstairs. His hands cannot remain still for even a second. Pulling on his hair. Clenching in his shirt. Scratching the insides of his jean pockets. The back of Esca’s neck is also scratched raw. The cough is deeper, frame racking. Marcus flinches with each explosion of noise and phlegm.
Esca passes by him again, cursing in his hoarse voice. Marcus reaches out, ignores the aggressively protesting hands, and pulls Esca down. Tight against him. The sweat instantly soaks through Marcus’ shirt to his chest. Esca struggles, with great strength considering his health, but gives up after a few futile moments. It twists something painful in Marcus’ gut, feeling the man’s weight pressing lifeless atop him. Weak and beaten. Adjectives Marcus does not normally associate with Esca.
A muffled cough. Esca shakes until it sputters away. Marcus gently combs his fingers through his lover’s hair, soothing. Stares at the ceiling hoping for some insight hidden in the swirls of rough plaster. Remembers his own struggle years ago. “ I hate that you’re miserable.”
“ Same here.” Esca coughs again, pushing his face into Marcus’ shirt. He regains his breath after a few seconds, settling back down. Marcus notices the small flinch as Esca accidentally brushes a fresh cigarette burn on his wrist against the embroidered logo on Marcus’ shirt. “ I remember you like this.” Apparently, Esca’s thoughts are wandering in the same direction as Marcus’ memories. “That one night, at Cottia’s.”
Marcus remembers it, as well. Much too clearly. Feeling like shit after a PTSD session with his government appointed military therapist, out of the oxycodone tabs prescribed to him after his last leg surgery, irritated and shaky and ruining the little study session being held at his then-girlfriend’s flat. He remembers accidentally breaking a plate between his clenched hands. Cottia holding his wrists while Esca picked the shards of glass from his palms. The scars are faint, but still there. “ Wasn’t exactly my best night, was it?” He chuffs a little laugh, moving his hand onto Esca’s back for more petting. “ Suppose I should keep you away from the dishes.”
The laughter isn’t returned. “ I keep thinking about that. How bad it was for you and it makes me feel like a complete git for getting so worked up over this stupid shit.” Esca barks out another series of horrible coughs. Gasping, writhing tensely atop Marcus.
Marcus holds his lover through the spasm, feeling useless. “ It’s not stupid shit, Esca. I mean... I was fucked up for a few months. You’ve been smoking for nearly a decade.” He squeezes the man in his arms once the coughing ceases. “ I think you’ve got the worse of it, mate. And I know it’ll take more than just a few days of hummers to get you through it. I know months from now you’ll have days where you’d sell your soul for a cig, but,” Marcus pushes his face into the messy hair, voice nearly desperate with his need to reassure this man. “ But we’re going to keep at it, okay? You and me. And eventually you’ll get cigarettes out of your system and I’ll figure out how to swallow.”
He wants Esca to laugh, so much. Remembers his own days of shakes and pains and erratic moods that made him a terror to be around. Remembers Cottia going out of her way to distract him, to lose himself in some pleasure, to make him laugh at her bawdy stories. Remembers Esca helping in her endeavor. “ By the holidays I’ll be so well trained all I’ll have to do is lick my lips and you’ll cum!”
There it is. Esca chuckles, snickers and snorts, until his breathing begins to suffer, the beginnings of another coughing fit coming on. Marcus is quick to shush him. Rubs soothing circles over his back.
There won’t be any blow jobs tonight, as much as Marcus would love to give one just to see Esca’s face light up. But a deal is a deal. And Esca had a cigarette today. Marcus sighs quietly.
Regardless, he’s going to take Esca up to their bed soon. Lay his lover on the clean sheets. Stretch out their naked bodies, side by side. And touch Esca so gently. Kiss his lips. Massage behind his ears. Stroke down his spine. Until peaceful sleep takes them both.
And then, tomorrow they will try again.
the end