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Mart Belden lived a balancing act of a life.
The tightrope stretched between Mart Belden, vice-president of student government, loyal brother, and this Mart Belden, a dumb teenage boy, unleashed and free and pressed up against his dream guy.
Here’s the thing: Mart probably shouldn’t be one of the only two people currently in Dan’s house. Then again, his parents didn’t know enough about this version of Mart to set that rule in place.
Oh, but the worse thing: he definitely shouldn’t be watching how Dan’s hands and mouth look while he smokes. It’s as good as watching porn. God, this boy. He's literally every teenage fantasy Mart could have- and he has the perfect view, watching his boyfriend watch the street through the window.
"You know, I wouldn’t smoke around you if you didn’t look at me like that.”
"Look at you like what? I'm not looking at you like anything." Mart desperately hopes he's not blushing. It's hard to play it cool when you're the color of a tomato.
Dan leans over him, their height difference intensified by Mart's place on the bed.
He crosses his arms. "I don't look at you any differently when you're smoking."
Dan smirks and leans back. "You wanna?" He gestures with his cigarette. Mart looks up at him dubiously. Dan takes a slow drag, keeping his eyes on Mart's.
He pulls Mart up a little more with a hand on the back of his neck. Mart catches onto what he's doing and opens his mouth against Dan's.
(Sometimes, Mart thinks Dan is struggling for balance just the same as him. There’s the Dan their friends admire, the posterboy for recovery and the power of love. Then there’s this Dan, warm at Mart’s fingertips and smirking lips tasting like smoke.)
"Put it out, babe. Please."
Dan complies. He pushes Mart down on the bed, gentle but controlling. Mart's hands bunch in Dan's jacket, pulling him closer. Dan falls over onto his side and pulls Mart even closer.
His boyfriend huffs. "What are you doing?"
"Napping."
"What do you mean, napping? You're just gonna sleep after kissing me like that?"
Dan opens one of his eyes. "Yeah?"
Mart sighs and rolls over to be the little spoon.
"Goodnight." Dan says, feeling Mart accept his fate.
"It's the afternoon." He grumbles.
"Shh."
(Sometimes, Mart isn't sure who he is. Sometimes, times like these, it doesn't really matter.)