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“You can’t be serious…” he mutters under his breath, watching Jeremy push open the door of a convenience store refrigerator, to crouch down and fish out a couple bottles of beer.
“Hm…?” Jeremy turns his head back, looking at the man standing behind him with a perplexed expression.
Mark looked down at the bottles of beer in the shorter man’s hands, and had to mentally fight the urge not to recoil in disgust. That was maybe an exaggeration, but he still felt that if he stared at it any longer he may as well smash the glass bottle into smithereens.
Jeremy continued to stare at his peculiar reaction, puzzled. After a few seconds of the two awkwardly staring at each other, the shorter man sighs and shuts the refrigerator door, standing up from his previously crouched position.
“You got anything against beer?” Jeremy finally questions, raising up the two bottles of beer in his hand while doing so.
Hearing his words, Mark’s eyes wide and he immediately shakes his head, a little too vigorously. Had he been too obvious? He must have seen his expression… How he wished he was wearing his fedora, for he longed to pull the brim over his eyes, letting the shadows disguise the faint blush of embarrassment he could feel creeping up his face and neck.
“N-no, I don’t have anything against beer, why do you ask?” He manages to force out, nervously.
God, could he be a functioning member of society for just one second?
“Then why do you look so… repulsed? Is that the right word…?” Jeremy trails off, before eventually speaking up again. “Is there anything wrong with McDougal’s?”
There it was, the question he had been dreading. It was a stupid question to be terrified of answering, but Mark felt that fear nonetheless. Perhaps it was the years of being cut off from regular society that caused this. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion, of course, but Mark hadn’t been to nearly enough bars to know this. He’d barely been 21 when his whole life was taken from him, after all.
“I… ah…” He tries to form an answer, but in truth he doesn’t know why exactly he hates that specific brand of beer at all. Or rather, he just can’t put it in words.
It had this taste that didn’t quite feel right on his tongue, and the aftertaste was even worse than the initial one. It could be perhaps that his palate simply consisted of more refined tastes, hence his particular dislike towards the label, and after the sheer amount of bar fights he’s witnessed during his missions over even more trivial matters, he’d rather not express this opinion, lest he get on the bad side of some drunk McDougal’s enjoyer.
(Mark was fairly certain people only rallied behind this brand because it sponsored some pretty shitty local teams, all of which have the same demographic of fans. Loud, aggressive and beer-loving. Even if the beer in question tasted like piss.)
Noticing his expression and hesitancy, Jeremy sighed once again.
“Forget it… one more beer for me then. If you don’t want this, just go pick up something you want, but I’m not paying for it.”
Mark nods a little too quickly, taking the chance to escape Jeremy’s quizzical gaze, and walks over to a different section of the convenience store, picking out a brand of beer he liked considerably more than that foul-tasting concoction served at most bars.
After swiftly grabbing the bottle from the refrigerator, he pays for the alcohol with his own money, as promised, before stepping out into the chilly night air to join Jeremy.
The shorter man looks up as he hears the door open, watching Mark walk out, before directing his gaze down to the bottle of beer the other man was holding.
“Didn’t know you liked that label… most people don’t appreciate it. It’s too expensive.” Jeremy points out.
“It’s good. You should try it sometime. Or I could let you have some. I bought more than one bottle anyway.” Mark replies, eagerly offering up one of the bottles he was holding.
“No thanks, I’m not a big fan of that.”
“You’re seriously missing out on some good stuff. Even if you think it’s not worth the extra few dollars.” Mark responds, with a smirk on his face.
Jeremy simply rolls his eyes and begins walking on the path towards his apartment. “Come on, let’s just go. It’s too cold out here.”
“I could lend you my coat if you’d like.”
“No thanks, I’d rather just go home.”
Mark walks alongside him, trying his best to not stare at the man walking beside him. It wasn’t fair that the man looked exceptionally good looking under the street lamps of one in the morning.
Finally reaching Jeremy’s apartment, both men settle down onto the battered leather couch, and set down the bottles of beer, as well as several other miscellaneous items on the coffee table in front of them.
After sitting there for a few seconds, Jeremy gets up with a grunt, walking over to the kitchen to search for his bottle opener, Mark’s eyes lingering on him the entire time.
After their respective bottles of beer were uncapped, Mark took a sip of the contents, sighing in relief, as he reclined as far back as he could. He looked over at Jeremy. Although the man’s expression showed little emotion, he could tell Jeremy was finally unwinding.
He watches Jeremy lift the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back as he takes a sip, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. The sight may be seemingly ordinary to others; just a man drinking beer, but to Mark, it was oddly mesmerising. He had to practically force himself to quit staring before his mind could drift to other, less family friendly thoughts.
After a minute or so of comfortable silence, Jeremy speaks up, shifting his body so he’s facing Mark, with his side pressed up against the backrest of his leather couch.
“Hey, Mark… was it?”
“Yeah?” Mark takes a sip, patiently waiting as Jeremy seemed to sift through his thoughts, choosing his words, contemplating what he was going to ask.
“You have something against McDougal’s, don’t you?” He finally questions, though it comes out more rhetorical than just a genuine curiosity.
“God, that sounds like such a stupid question for me to ask…” Jeremy mutters under his breath.
In the middle of taking a sip, Mark pauses, pulling the rim of the bottle away from his lips, pursing them as he tries to think of a good response. Others would have answered this question with ease, but strangely enough, his vocal cords simply refused to work in that moment.
“I- uhm…”
“It’s not that hard of a question to answer, is it? It’s just a yes or a no… even a maybe would be decent enough at this point…” Jeremy pushes, slightly bewildered by the other man’s stammering.
Mark has no idea why he can’t force the words out. He does have something against that specific label of beer, and he does have an explanation for his dislike that was decent at best. So why can’t he seem to say it?
“You ok there?” Jeremy finally asks, snapping Mark out of his train of thought. After watching the taller man nod incredibly unconvincingly, he sighs, but says nothing more.
He glances up at the mounted television, before finally speaking again.
“Wanna watch something? I have cable, my friend is paying. Or he was, before he moved out. I have a few days left before this is completely useless.” Jeremy tries to break the ice, not intending to spend the entire night in awkward silence.
Mark is grateful for the proposition, and happily accepts, snatching the remote controller and flipping through the channels, taking another sip of beer. He eventually settles on some nature documentary, and leaves it on, gulping down another mouthful of beer.
The two men sit and watch the show in silence, the narrator’s voice filling the room, describing the insect being shown on screen with excruciating detail. It was boring to watch, but anything was better than sitting in silence.
After a dreadful hour of having to listen to a middle aged man passionately describe six legged creatures, Mark switches the channel over to a replay of a random local football match (sponsored by McDougals. Ugh.), leaving it on to fill the room with background noise, still not keen on having the room go quiet.
By this time, both men had already gone through a few bottles, and were already starting to work their way through their fourth bottle, although neither had gotten very far.
Jeremy speaks up for the first time in an hour. “I still want to know why you hate McDougal’s so much…” his voice is slightly softer in tone and volume, and Mark can tell the other man is starting to feel tipsy.
(Mark is almost sure that his delusion is telling him Jeremy is one of those loyal McDougal lovers. He’d have to find a way to drag him out of that cult.)
He himself was feeling much more open to conversation than he was an hour ago, and this time, the words that he had been unable to utter previously easily made their way out of his mouth.
“I don’t really like the taste of it, or the aftertaste. It’s just awful to me, and I really hate it. I don’t have anything against people who like it, I just genuinely can’t understand how you can manage to drink it without cringing.” Mark answers, as he takes a sip of his own bottle of beer, a brand that is noticeably not McDougal’s.
Frowning in response, Jeremy then asked a follow-up question that however, was not one that Mark was expecting.
“That wasn’t so hard to admit, was it? How come you never answered me before?”
Hearing that question being asked by a tipsy Jeremy, he immediately snaps his head up, coming to the realisation that he had indeed answered his earlier question. He doesn’t know how to answer this question honestly.
I’m scared of what will happen to me if i confess that to anyone intending on drinking with me.
He’s not going to admit that, no way in hell.
My opinion is so unpopular I’m scared to face the criticism.
That wasn’t the total truth, was it? Mark knew that.
I haven’t been social with anyone but my handler, and I’m scared of what will happen if I don’t agree with them. I’m scared of losing the last bit of human connection I have left.
That truth terrified him.
And absolutely, there is no way that he would ever confess that to Jeremy. Especially not him.
Such a trivial thing shouldn’t matter to Mark, and he knows that. He’s done worse things, have to clean up after murder after murder, handling corpses that have already undergone rigor mortis, sometimes having even started in the process of rotting. He’d had to stare into pair after pair of lifeless, dull eyes, as he searched for a suitable location to dispose of their corpse.
So why was he suddenly getting cold feet over something like admitting his hatred for a specific brand of beer? This didn’t make sense to him at all.
Maybe he’d been around so many of the dead he forgot what it was like to be around the living.
Mark finally forces a smile onto his face, answering Jeremy’s question, not wanting the awkwardness to start building up once again.
“Haven’t really thought about it. Probably because I’ve seen people fight over their opinions on beer, and I certainly don’t want to become their next target.”
He feels a slight bit of pride well up in him as he managed to force out a somewhat believable excuse, although nearly cringing the next moment when his anxiety was clearly still obvious.
Jeremy seems to find this answer acceptable, although judging by the look the man was giving him, he didn’t quite buy that story, but Mark was beyond relieved when he didn’t pry, choosing to nod slightly before taking another sip of McDougal’s.
“That’s a rather avoidant way of life… or whatever the shit my drug dealer friend spouts when he’s high…” Jeremy mumbles, taking a sip of beer.
This time, Mark doesn’t shy away from admiring Jeremy as he does so, taking in the sight of him downing his beer. He doesn’t know why exactly, but he feels almost drawn to Jeremy in those few seconds, his mind solely focused on him.
God, he looks so pretty sitting like this, drinking cheap beer that tastes like piss…
He came to his senses quickly though, snapping out of his thoughts and shaking his head lightly in an attempt to get rid of the increasingly dirty thoughts in his mind.
Stop looking at him like that.
After a few moments of berating himself for his actions, he goes back to finish the last few drops of beer still left in the bottle, before setting it down on the table.
“Hey Mark…?”
Hearing Jeremy speak up, he snaps his head up, his eyes darting over to the other man, and tries his damndest to only stare at his eyes and nothing more.
“Yeah? Need anything?” Mark finally inquires, now interested as to why the shorter man spoke up.
“I just wanted to know… why did you just barge into my house all of a sudden?” Jeremy finally asks his question, setting his own beer bottle down before reclining back on the couch.
Mark figures he does need to provide Jeremy an answer as to why he even found his address in the first place and bothered to come over. He’d prepared a lie, that one of his jerkass friends told him where he lived. Jeremy didn’t need to know that the agency knew his location.
He’d rather not comment on it though. For a man whose existence is a well-kept secret, he is hilariously bad at lying.
“I, ah… just wanted to see you, you know? I wanted to see your face.” Mark answers, and is surprised that his own answer was truthful. It must have been the beer.
“How did you even get my address?” Jeremy asked again, not wishing to question the context behind why Mark would have wanted to meet him in person.
“I have my ways.” Mark replied, forgoing his obvious lie and stopping himself before he can divulge information the other man was not supposed to know.
“I don’t even want to question it anymore… You just show up at my door, introduce yourself and just act like we’ve been friends forever. I would’ve kicked you out, but then again…” Mark could swear he saw Jeremy’s eyes dart to a bloodstain on his white collared shirt that he hadn’t actually bothered to cover up properly. Or at all.
“It’s 1 in the damn morning anyways.” Jeremy finishes his sentence, bringing Mark back to the present. Mark watched the shorter man pick the bottle up again and take a long swig of its contents, before starting up his rant once again.
“I still don’t get why you did this! I- I mean we’ve only called each other, I don’t know, four, five times over the span of years. And that was when I could be bothered to pick it up, when you weren’t filling up my answering machine with your endless calls. And do you always call on pay phones? And burners? Seriously, if you didn’t call so often, I would’ve thought you just never existed.” Jeremy adds on, his words noticeably more frustrated and confused, courtesy of the beer, Mark reasons.
“I- uhm. It’s a long story. But I consider you a friend, and I thought you should know that. I haven’t actually gotten to say it, since you don’t really answer any of my calls… you’ve practically blocked my number.” Mark answers, a semblance of the truth spilling from his lips, much easier than he intended it to. Curse the damn alcohol.
It was a good thing he was still sober enough to keep the rest of the truth to himself. The entire truth would have definitely made Jeremy regret not kicking him out when he knocked on his apartment door at the dead of night, on a workday.
Hell, it might have even hypothetically caused Jeremy to straight up stop considering whether or not to answer his calls. He didn’t want that. Not now, when finally he had some form of human connection that wasn’t simply a voice through an earpiece, instructions on a screen or a bloody corpse in his arms.
Jeremy pondered Mark’s words for a few seconds, before sighing and taking one last sip of his beer, setting the glass bottle down to rest as he lay his head back, eyes focused on the ceiling, before covering them with an arm.
“A friend, huh? Interesting…” Jeremy mumbles, only fuelling Mark’s unease and nervousness.
He gazed over at Jeremy’s form, sprawled out on the couch, his legs spread open, back arched in a position that Mark was certain was going to be uncomfortable in the long run, head tilted back, with his arm over his eyes.
The way Jeremy was sitting had the loose shirt he was wearing ride up slightly, exposing the skin of his stomach, and Mark had to use all of his willpower to pull his focus away from it.
Don’t stare.
Fucking don’t.
To distract himself, Mark busies his fingers with unwrapping the plastic of a cold egg and mayo sandwich either one of them had hastily grabbed from the convenience store shelf.
He takes a bite of the sandwich, trying to ignore the weird feeling biting into the outside of a sandwich that had warmed up, while the inside was still frigid.
Looking over at Jeremy, he hesitated. The man looked hungry, hell, he looked like he barely fed himself properly at all. And he looked tired as hell. He might as well make the offer.
“Want some?” Mark asked, just loud enough for Jeremy to lift the arm off of his eyes, blinking groggily to focus on the taller man with his hand outstretched, currently offering him a cold yet warm sandwich.
Jeremy nodded slightly, seeing as he didn’t have much of a choice in the first place after all. He took the sandwich over from Mark, their fingers brushing over each other’s just slightly while he took the sandwich, just enough to send a small shiver through him.
He tries to ignore it and takes a bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly and contemplating.
“This tastes so bad yet so good at the same time…” he mutters under his breath, not in the mood to say much else but mildly complain about the food.
“You may have to start eating properly, get your taste buds used to real food, maybe then you’ll see it truly tastes horrendous.” Mark quips, staring at Jeremy, with something in his eyes that Jeremy could swear his confiscated hedgehog on that it was amusement.
“Why’d you have to bring that up all of a sudden…” he mumbles, nearly cringing at the fact that both the fatigue that had been catching up to him and the alcohol were making his rone of voice sound incredibly whiny.
“I’m being a good friend. That’s what I came here to be.”
Jeremy was about to respond to the other man’s answer when he feels him outstretch a hand to pull down his t-shirt, covering back up the part of his exposed stomach he hadn’t even realised was showing.
Jeremy could feel the slight graze of his fingers on his stomach as the end of his shirt was pulled down, trying to ignore the shivers that ran through him, and the damn blush that was fighting its way up his face and neck.
The alcohol must be getting to him. Most certainly. He still wanted another drink though.
He can see Mark’s stare from the corner of his eye, practically boring a hole into him.
“You want a beer?” he quickly asks, before he manages to look even more flustered, gesturing to one of the unopened bottles of McDougal’s sitting on the table.
“Fuck no. I’ll have none of that disgusting, sorry excuse of a beer.” Mark was definitely getting affected more and more by the alcohol.
Jeremy chuckles softly in response, having nothing to say after having just had his shirt pulled down by a literal stranger. Well, technically they had spoken on a few phones calls and now had shared a couple of beers, but to him, a stranger nonetheless.
To avoid any unnecessary conversation, he forces himself to take yet another bite of that sandwich, despite the fact that he wasn’t really all that hungry.
Mark simply gazes at him as he takes small bites out of the sandwich, clearly noticing him trying to prolong the awkward silence that would only become increasingly more awkward should either one of them speak up.
They both sat in silence for a few minutes, maybe even more than that, perhaps an hour even, even after Jeremy forced the last of the sandwich into his mouth, setting down the plastic wrapper on the table and weighing it down with his empty bottle of McDougal’s.
Mark suddenly speaks up, breaking the silence and quite literally startling Jeremy, who nearly jumped up from his seat at the unexpected noise.
“So… I actually have something to confess.”
“What…?”
“I… I didn’t just come here because I wanted to see you, or be a good friend or whatever bullshit I said earlier…”
Now this had Jeremy intrigued. He turned his body to the man sitting on the other end of the couch, choosing to ignore that the distance between the both of them had seemed to shrink considerably from when they first sat down.
“Oh?”
“I… I actually came because I was lonely.”
This caught Jeremy off guard. Even through their calls on the phone, the few that he had chosen to pick up over the years, he could tell just from the tone of his voice: the way he uttered his words, that this man certainly would have had no problems expanding his social circle in a matter of minutes. He practically radiated charisma, as far as Jeremy could tell. He wasn’t the best judge for this however, seeing as his only companions were the jerkass group of friends he managed to make when he was still working an entry level job, or at least trying to.
Jeremy simply kept quiet at the taller man’s statement. He had nothing of value to say, so he just kept his mouth shut, observing the other man’s demeanour as he continued to fidget in his seat, seemingly trying to figure out the best way to elaborate on this absolute nuke of information he had just launched at Jeremy’s way.
“Truth be told, I haven’t talked to anyone in years. Maybe ten. Maybe more. Honestly I don’t know. I know I told you I’d take you out to that escape room, and that’s supposed to be not for another few months… I’m well aware. But I just… needed the company I guess.”
Jeremy takes the momentary silence to take a quick look at the other man, who had practically changed moods during the entire minute that it took him to say so, the somber expression now present on his face making the dark circles under his eyes more noticeable. The way he was lying back on the couch, looking like he would absolutely appreciate it if the leather decided to swallow him whole… The entire fatigued and depressed look was certainly a rather different side to the man that Jeremy had not expected to see, especially after the many times he had woken up at five a.m. to that very same man cheerily wishing him a good morning and a good day at work over the phone.
Mark finally took a deep breath and continued on.
“The only two people I’ve called over the years are some random hotline for lonely and depressed people, and… you. I only ever talked to the first one about work related matters… so that left you I guess. I’ve already told you a decent amount about me… my job, and stuff. I figured… what was the harm in just coming here and spending time with the one person I’ve talked to over the years?”
Mark took a deep, shaky inhale as he finished his sentence. He’d been dreading having to confess that to Jeremy, the one man he had by his side throughout the years, however unwilling he was to stay by his side.
Although he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a newfound sense of dread decided to fill up the space where the previous feeling of dread had once occupied, leaving little room for the small relief he felt getting it all off his chest.
What if Jeremy was repulsed by him? What if he found Mark’s declaration absolutely ridiculous and that he should stop being so pathetic and lonely? What if Jeremy kicked him out right now?
Before his mind could expand on the growing list of reasons why Jeremy could hate him and kick him out of his apartment instantly, the man taking up his entire brain space finally spoke up.
Pursing his lips, Jeremy took a few seconds to collect his thoughts and process the sudden shift in tone of the conversation, before opening his mouth to talk.
“I didn’t know that you were that lonely,” he starts, his tone sounding a tad bit more awkward than he would have liked. Jeremy cringes internally. He hates himself for not being able to have a proper serious conversation without immediately embarrassing himself after making the situation worse.
“Ever since my friends put my number on that stupid pay phone, I wasn’t expecting anyone to call me back. Frankly, I was expecting that my number would have been long gone from that place the day you first called me. I was annoyed, sure. You were just some random stranger calling for a “good time”, and you actually seemed serious about it. I freaked and obviously hung up like that.”
By now, Jeremy’s eyes were trained on the wooden floorboard of his apartment, trying to look anywhere, anywhere but at the dark haired man in a suit sitting too close next to him on his couch. Too close. Jeremy needed to focus more on what he was saying, and less on the proximity of the other man.
Taking a deep breath, he continued his monologue. “I didn’t expect you to remember my number after all that time, especially since you kept calling me from pay phones and burner phones. It really creeped me out. Especially since all you did was wish me well and try to talk about the weather with me even though it was always fucking cloudy. I was almost relieved that you stopped calling me for a while. Until you started again.”
“I changed my number to get away from all your calls. I thought it would help, getting away from the crazy stranger that kept calling to make small talk with a random person whose number was scribbled on the side of a pay phone. But not receiving any calls from you from those few months after I changed my number, that made me realise that… I actually missed your voice.”
Jeremy could see Mark blinking in surprise out of the corner of his eye. If he was being honest with himself, he was also shocked that he had just uttered that sentence. He, Jeremy Gonzalez? Missing another man? And one who has only ever called and talked like a creepy stalker? Whatever happened to him?
He continues regardless of this. “I just thought that I really needed to get away from you. From… whatever this is. Whatever this is making me feel. And I just- I can’t-“
Jeremy stutters. He can only curse himself internally, for trying to set up such a monologue just to trip over his own words and not be able to get all of his feelings out.
He feels Mark’s hopeful, yet disappointed gaze on trained on him, and he tries to do his best to avoid making eye contact with the other man, taking another sip of McDougal’s to avoid having to go on.
“I don’t know how to say it. But I guess it did feel a little weird having you call me all the time like a damn stalker. But it also felt like somebody cared. To check up on me that often. It was nice. Also really creepy. One of the main reasons I changed my number.” Jeremy is glad the words have finally returned to him, because for some reason, there is this slight ache in his chest whenever Mark’s eyebrows furrow in that specific way when he’s disappointed, that just infuriates yet fascinates him.
“But I guess having you in my life for so long… it just felt weird to finally have it go radio silent. Not getting any calls from you felt weird. I still have my jerkass friends, the same ones who wrote my number there all those years ago… but it just wasn’t the same. They care. But it felt like you cared differently.”
“Oh.” was Mark’s only response. Jeremy felt that ache in his chest grow stronger, as the other man furrowed his brow even more, a mix of emotions showing on his surprisingly handsome face, that Jeremy’s tipsy mind just couldn’t make out. In fact, he was so tipsy that he was starting to find that man in a suit with an awkwardly bright coloured tie handsome. Hot even. Maybe that was a little too much beer for his lightweight self.
“I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same. It sounds cruel of me to say this, but I’m sort of relieved that you felt just as lonely as I did when I wasn’t able to contact you.” Mark finally spoke up, after a long swig of his own beer. Jeremy was relieved that the taller man was no longer furrowing his brow in disappointment, and even more so when he saw that the corners of his lips were tilted upwards ever so slightly.
“I missed you. Honest truth. After never being able to talk with anyone due to the nature of my job, it was just really hard on me.” Mark rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. He did not want to risk staring into those gorgeous green-gray eyes of the man sitting opposite him.
“I’m not the best person to offer you… whatever it is you need right now, I’m sure.” Jeremy responded, slightly skeptical that a man could have a job where he was never required to at least talk to anyone ever. Surely there must have been someone…?
He can see Mark swallowing nervously, contemplating something. Just as he’s about to ask just what is on his mind, the other man opens his mouth to talk.
“Fuck it. I’ve left that job and they can’t find me now. I might as well tell you. You’re all that I have left.”
The way that Mark uttered those words left Jeremy feeling… something. What exactly, he did not know. But it was something welling up in his heart, overwhelming him with the urge to shift closer and place his hand over the other man’s hand in an attempt to be comforting. So he did, against his better judgement.
Mark seemed stunned for a second as Jeremy put his hand over his, watching as the man who had always been so fed up with him, and less than tolerant, now offering him comfort. It felt silly, but Mark liked it.
He continued on with his very emotional speech about the life he was forced into; the life he never wanted. But before he did so, he asked a question.
“Do you want the whole story?”
He immediately received a nod from the other man, who was still grasping Mark’s hand in his, making him feel like a high schooler all over again. Which was many years ago, before this god forsaken job stole his life, his normalcy, away from him.
“I was supposed to be a lawyer. Just a lawyer. Working for my dad’s law firm, ready to finally make him proud of me. I worked hard back then, so fucking hard. I wanted to prove that I could do it. I even got a good position outside of my dad’s firm, as a director for one of the best newspapers in my city. I was doing my best. But I tried too hard.”
He glances at the man sitting next to him, who simply nodded with that impassive expression on his face that Mark found surprisingly comforting at the moment.
“I accidentally went too deep while researching for an article. I found out some classified information about some military experiment, a bio weapon used on humans and whatnot. Some sort of thing. Of course, because it was classified, I got charged with treason. The sentence was 20 years. But considering I’m sitting right here venting to you about my horrible job, I did not remain in prison for the whole two decades.
“Five years into my sentence, I got a presidential pardon, for seemingly no clear reason. I was grateful to be out of that horrible place, but I had no idea why me of all people to pull out. Treason was a high sentence after all. But right now, some part of me wishes they had just left me to rot in that prison cell for the remainder of my sentence.”
He can feel Jeremy’s hand squeezing his own in support, and he tenses up slightly, but relaxes eventually into the warm touch of the man who had begrudgingly stayed by his side throughout the years.
“I had published information that highly compromised national security, and I had to compensate for my reckless actions. They gave me a new identity. And they gave me missions. Oh so many missions. Truth be told, there are only two people in the world who know me as Mark. One is you, and one is a stupid kid I met at a mini golf place. It feels so strange, knowing that I’m not ‘Mark’ anymore.”
“What did they make you go by then, if not the name Mark?” Jeremy questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him. He unconsciously squeezed Mark’s hand again, unknowingly offering comfort to the older man.
“Asset #1080,” Mark answered, pausing to let out a bitter scoff as he utters his moniker. He’s never actually said it before, only ever hearing it spoken in the demanding tone of his handler, that he would definitely not be missing. “That’s the absolute ridiculous name that I went by. No more Mark. On paper, ‘Mark’ died in a prison brawl, and his father and sister go to an empty grave to mourn the loss of a brother and a son that is still alive and kicking.”
Mark takes a shaky breath and continues. He can feel the tears start to well up, and his voice start to crack. He was so sure that he had mastered his poker face, and the art of hiding away his emotions after all these years. Perhaps it was the alcohol spurring this emotional state out of him.
“My missions… were to clean up the dead bodies of the goddamn scientists that were involved in the making of the bio weapons. I had about one, two months of training? Now that I think back about it, I get why they chose me for the job. I’m fit, and strong… more so back then than I am now, and I’m tall, but not too tall. Apparently the Master’s degree and early grad from law school helped too. They needed someone smart, strong and efficient, and I had all of the perfect traits, to be one of the pawns on their chessboard.”
“My first mission was to clean up the body of my predecessor, Asset #1079, to prove my worth. I’d only practiced hiding bodies and cleaning up messes with dummies, so touching an actual cold dead body was a bit jarring. In some building in Jakarta, there’s a body embedded in a concrete pillar. A man who, like me, is no longer meant to exist. He was bad at his job, and they wanted me to prove that I could do better than him. I did, of course, deliver. Always the people pleaser I was. Always had to be the best, the most thorough. That would be my curse.”
Jeremy had started tracing small circles on the back of his hand with his thumb, the touch of the other man combined with the effects of the bottles of beer he had downed previously, comforting and stimulating enough to keep him rambling on and on.
“I was, according to them, the best asset they had. The best murder cleaner in their arsenal. They made sure I knew that. Missions kept pouring in. More, more, more. I had proven my worth and my capabilities, so they just kept giving me things to do. Even after all the scientists on the original roster had been cleaned away, they still pestered me to clean more and more and more. They had at most 1080 of us — well, 1079, minus the guy that I cleaned away — to help them clean up those fucking messes. Yet they kept coming to me with more tasks, more things to do.”
“I tried my best to hide, but they found me years later, and dragged me out to hide and clean another bunch of scientists who ran amok and made yet another bio weapon. I didn’t want to go back, but they did start offering me decent amounts after recognising the quality of the work I put out on field. That was the only reason I accepted. Because I was bribed.”
Jeremy nodded along to everything. Mark kept talking, and he kept listening.
“By the third time I was called back, I couldn’t take it anymore. I made a plan to escape. To finally be able to live like I’ve always wanted. Free and away from anyone and everyone. I blew up a car with a dummy dressed like me in it. I sneaked away to an apartment I bought. Right next to yours.”
“Why it was right next to yours…? Because I needed to be close to you. I wanted to be close to you. You were the only person who ever stayed by me, even if you tended to ignore my calls. I was so lonely, that when you finally agreed to that escape room to get me off your ass, I was so happy I ran twice around the entire town to burn off the excitement. I know it sounds silly, and basically makes me sound like a stalker, considering I found out your nicknames, criminal history, phone number and address… but the job fucked me up so bad that if I wasn’t close to you I just might cry, or more likely, just die.”
Surprisingly, Jeremy was more understanding than Mark had expected him to be. Maybe it was because of the McDougal’s, maybe it was not. The shorter man had been nodding along to everything he had said, caressing the back of Mark’s hand with his thumb, inching closer and closer with every sentence that came out of his mouth.
“I don’t even know how it got to this… me, pouring my heart out to you, who probably didn’t even want to know about my sob story in the first place… but it’s all just so much… all I need right now is for you to promise that you’ll stay. That you won’t leave me. That I won’t have to leave you like I had to leave behind everyone else.”
The tears are clouding his vision, not that his lap was a sight that was captivating anyway. He was this close to sobbing, the shaky breaths and rapid blinking doing nothing to will away the tears and intensifying emotions.
“Say something… anything… please. I don’t care if it’s an ‘I hate you’ or ‘you’re such a weirdo for getting so attached to a stranger’ or even a ‘get out of my fucking apartment, you creep’… I just want an answer from you… please…”
Mark can practically hear the begging tone in his voice, finally willing himself to make eye contact with the younger man, who was still holding his hand in his. He can feel a single teardrop escape confinement and trickle down his cheek, but he will settle for being embarrassed later. Right now, all he wants is an answer from the man sitting oh so close to him. And he wants, no, needs, an answer right now, or he is going to drop down on his knees and beg in the most pathetic way for the only man in his life to give him a response.
“Please… please say something…” His voice is cracking badly with every word he says, teardrops running down his cheek at that point. He must look absolutely hideous and pitiful at that moment, ugly crying while begging for a response like a needy puppy.
He hates that Jeremy needed so much time to think of what to say. He wanted to hear that man’s voice. The one that he had looked forward to hearing over the pay phone every time he sacrificed a penny just to dial his number, only to be met with silence and his call sent to the answering machine.
He knows he is probably, no, definitely, asking way too much of a man who barely knew him, barely wanted to know him. He’d just trauma dumped on the younger man, and started crying and pleading. This was every bit unfair to Jeremy, and Mark knew that. He knew he shouldn’t expect an answer. Jeremy had every right not to respond.
But he isn’t sure his heart can take yet another person rejecting him, refusing to acknowledge him.
The tears clear up just enough for Mark to be able to see Jeremy’s expression. The caramel-haired man was chewing on his bottom lip, his thumb still caressing Mark’s hand, albeit at a faster, almost nervous pace. His gorgeous grayish green eyes were darting in every direction but his, adamantly refusing eye contact.
The scene before him only served to break his heart even more, and start to intensify the aching feeling of sorrow settling into him.
That was it. Jeremy was going to kick him out for being an overly emotional drunk and forcing himself into his life, and he had every right to.
Finally, the other man had opened his mouth, presumably to say something, only to purse his lips together. Mark let out a soft, pathetic whimper as the slight hope he had of Jeremy replying him shattered.
The tears had started welling up once more, pouring down his cheeks in hot streams. His breathing was beginning to get more and more shaky, and he was certain that he was going to have an emotional breakdown before he ever got a response.
Just as he squeezed his eyes shut, however, he was pulled into a sudden tight hug. As soon as Mark felt a warm hand on his back, awkwardly petting him, he immediately leaned down and buried his face into the crook of the shorter man’s neck, making it work despite the height difference between them.
His shoulders were shaking with the sobs that were starting to force itself out of him, now fully ugly crying into the other man’s shoulder. He could feel that soothing hand on his back, the motions no longer as awkward, stroking his back in a way that made him whimper pathetically again.
As he sobbed and choked over the words that he was desperately trying to force out, Jeremy was there. And it was then that he finally received his first verbal answer.
“When I first got a call from you, I just dismissed it as someone unimportant… but I also started to look forward to your calls, even if I never answered them, and never did want to. I grew attached to your calls filling my answering machine. And I guess I never knew how much I would miss them once I changed my number and it went all silent. Too silent.”
Mark finally stopped sobbing to listen to Jeremy answer, feeling the younger man’s shoulders heave as he took a deep breath and continued.
“I never thought I would have missed you, after all, you were just a voice over a phone, untraceable through all the pay phones and burner phones you contacted me with. But now… I realised that I don’t want to have to leave you. I have my other friends, sure. But it just… feels so different. I never thought I’d say this, but looking back at all the times I would be annoyed by your many calls… now I don’t ever want to forget them.”
Mark’s breath hitched. He had to be dreaming. No way Jeremy was currently saying such a thing.
“Truth be told, for some weird reason, I don’t want to leave you, and I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay. I want to hear your voice asking me stupid questions. And now, I want to stay with the man who keeps asking me stupid questions.”
Jeremy’s voice cracks at the end of his confession, tears also starting to form in his tear ducts. They’re minimal enough that Jeremy can blink them away, but he pulls Mark closer to him, not even caring about their proximity at this point, just wanting for him to get rid of the tears and begging, so he can finally hear the once annoying voice he’d always been tormented by, without the residual sorrow or embarrassment.
For a long while, the two of them sat there, Mark still sobbing in Jeremy’s embrace. After a while, Mark lifts his head off of Jeremy’s shoulder.
Jeremy lets the man open another beer bottle and chug it all down. He’s had a rough enough night. Another drink to numb the pain was probably better than having Jeremy awkwardly try and fail to comfort Mark, in Jeremy’s own opinion anyway.
“Y-you really mean it?” comes a soft, shaky voice from his shoulder. The tone of it catches Jeremy off guard, especially since he was so accustomed to hearing Mark sound so put together, to see and hear him at his lowest was something else entirely.
Jeremy whispers a yes, just loud enough for Mark to hear, but also soft enough to sound like an intimate answer, shared between just the two of them.
Mark finally pulls himself away from Jeremy, detaching from the younger man who now had a visible tear stain on the right shoulder of his shirt, evidence of where Mark had one been laying on.
“I can’t believe it… you said yes…”
Jeremy has barely enough time to look at the man right in his chocolate brown eyes, before he is suddenly pulled forward by the neck of his hoodie. His eyes widen involuntarily as he gets pulled closer towards Mark.
He can feel Mark’s lips on his. It’s ethereal. He hasn’t kissed someone in so long. And never in his life has it felt as good as it did now, embarrassing as it was to admit it. Feeling Mark’s soft lips against his chapped ones, made his heart flutter in a way he thought he had left back in middle school.
Meanwhile, Mark was continuing to press his lips against Jeremy’s. He was aware that the other man’s lips were rough, dry and tasted of McDougal’s, which all but tasted of piss. Still, he could not bring himself to pull away, not even for air. This was the first time since high school he had actually kissed anyone, after having been restricted by that “job” of his all these years.
Now, he was free to do what he wanted. And kissing Jeremy was one of those things on his bucket list. He made a mental note to check it off later, considering that they had kissed for almost 30 seconds. Stuck in the same position.
“I’d try and use my tongue, but I’d prefer it when your lips and breath don’t smell and taste like McDougal’s.” Mark comments, finally pulling away, leaving a slightly surprised and dazed Jeremy still processing the recent event.
It took a few seconds for the other man to get rid of that expression and finally stutter out a response, his face going red in a way that no alcohol would ever be able to do.
“I- I uh… d-did we just kiss…?” Jeremy stutters, stating the obvious. His face is flushed, and his eyes are doing the same cute thing where they dart around everywhere trying to avoid eye contact with Mark.
Although ten minutes ago he had found that slightly frustrating, he decided anything Jeremy did now should he labelled handsome, like the man he was.
God, he was so down bad.
After a few seconds of Mark stroking Jeremy’s cheek with his thumb, the both of them gazing into each other’s eyes, something finally registers to Mark.
He hasn’t actually asked whether Jeremy liked guys. He’d gone under an assumption, but never confirmed it. Now he had to face the fact that he had just forced a kiss on a guy who almost certainly might be straight.
Mark immediately retracts his hand from Jeremy’s cheek, stuttering an apology. He can swear that he sees a slight disappointment show through Jeremy’s beautiful gray-green eyes, but he doesn’t comment on it. He wants to, but he doesn’t.
“I-I’m sorry… for kissing you all of a sudden- if- like… i-if you don’t like me… if you don’t like guys… then I-I’m really sorry for forcing a kiss on you like that…”
Before Mark can realise that he is almost certainly blushing out of sheer embarrassment now, a hand reaches forward and tilts his head to face Jeremy, and only to be met with the lips of the other man colliding onto his own.
At this point, he forgoes the disgust he feels from having to taste the residual McDougal’s left on Jeremy’s lips and mouth, he just wants to kiss him. Maybe the extra bottle of beer he had downed had really started kicking in now.
The kiss was absolutely intoxicating. Mark’s mind went completely blank as he tried to process the fact that Jeremy had just kissed him. The man who once seemed to not want anything to do with him, now voluntarily kissing him.
He feels Jeremy press his lips against his, and he gladly returns the gesture by kissing back, his tongue swiping across Jeremy’s bottom lip, demanding entry. As soon as Jeremy’s lips parted, Mark wasted no time deepening the kiss.
The kiss lasted slightly longer than expected, leaving both men panting and red in the face when one pulled away to catch his breath. The kiss was spontaneous and tasted of McDougal’s, the worst beer in the world, but Mark had other things to care about.
Like how the man he had been slowly but surely crushing on all these years had just initiated a kiss with him. He never honestly thought he would ever get to that point, where he was able to finally confess his feelings to Jeremy in hopes of not just coming across as a weird stalker.
Jeremy was blushing hard now, the red shade going from his neck all the way to his cheek and ears. Mark gazed at the freckled face of the middle aged man he had just locked lips with, analysing all of his features.
Jeremy wasn’t the most attractive man alive, with his dark blond hair styled in a very awkward middle part, that Mark would have to figure out how to trim. His cleft chin was incredibly pronounced, but Mark liked how it looked on him. He liked the facial hair that seemed like he had just shaved that morning, yet already grew back by nighttime.
And Mark knows, that he does not mind whether or not Jeremy is conventionally attractive. Because what he fell in love with was not his looks, but his personality and voice. Everything that he had heard over the phone calls with Jeremy.
God, he might just be way too whipped for this man.
His hand reaches out, less hesitant this time, and places itself right back where it used to be caressing on Jeremy’s cheek. As he starts caressing it with his thumb again, he notices the corners of Jeremy’s lips twitching upwards.
“So, what are we?” Jeremy asks in that ambiguously accented voice of his. And Mark pauses to think for a bit. What does he want to be with Jeremy?
“I don’t know what I want to be with you yet, but I know that I want to be by your side. I want to be there with you. Basically what a boyfriend does, but we don’t have to be that if you don’t want to get that close… we can just be friends if-“ Mark starts rambling on, nervous and hoping that Jeremy secretly said yes to the offer to be his romantic partner.
“Boyfriends would be nice, if you want to set that as a future goal.” Jeremy replies, cutting Mark off before he can keep rambling to himself.
Mark feels his heart flutter in his chest, an overwhelming joy washing over him as he processes Jeremy’s words. The other man did want to be more than friends.
“Thank god… I really don’t know if I was able to accept us being anything else… but still… it would be okay if we took things slow right? As you can already gather, I haven’t been with someone in a long while…” Mark breathes a sigh of relief as he replays Jeremy’s answer in his head again and again. He has to force himself to not smile, which fails almost instantly, as he is barely able to contain his excitement and elation.
“Of course.”
As soon as he hears that response from Jeremy, he instantaneously leans in and presses yet another kiss to the shorter man’s chapped lips, now not so dry after the passionate kiss that Mark had pressed to his lips.
“I can’t believe this is happening…” He mumbles to himself, hardly able to force away the smile that kept returning to his face no matter how hard he tried not to.
Jeremy meanwhile, was also feeling his heart flutter. Staring at Mark from such an angle, the older man having pinned him down on the couch, gazing up at him, made Jeremy realise just how attractive the man truly was.
The slicked back dark hair that was starting to come loose as the gel slowly lost its magic, causing strands to fall into Mark’s face and framing it in a way that he found beautiful. Those alluring brown eyes, the ones that had been shedding tears just a half hour ago, yet the ones twinkling in excitement at that very moment.
Mark had rolled up his sleeves and taken off his suit jacket somewhere between his love confession and the cry fest that he had been having on Jeremy’s shoulder. He could now see the older man’s muscular forearms, and resisted the urge to trace his finger over a slightly protruding vein.
Jeremy found his fingers travelling up Mark’s shirt and undoing that tie of his, only adding to the taller man’s attractiveness, as the man started smirking at Jeremy, who was currently focused on tugging his tie off.
“Oh?” was the only response he was met with, but the teasing tone, coupled with that deep gravelly voice, was enough to make Jeremy’s ears go red and his face grow hot in a matter of seconds.
Jeremy’s fingers fumbled slightly, only to be met with Mark’s thicker, calloused fingers guiding his slender digits to undo his tie.
Jeremy pulled the tie off, his fingers moving down to unbutton Mark’s shirt, his hands only slightly trembling. He could feel the blush creeping up his neck, his face growing warm as his fingertips brushed over Mark’s abdomen.
A smirk made its way up to Mark’s face as he gazed down at the younger man working down his shirt, slowly exposing his chest. That shade of red starting to settle on Jeremy’s face as he continued to undress Mark? God, he looked so adorable.
Finally, Jeremy managed to slip the last button through the loop, Mark’s chest was fully exposed, leaving the shorter man to admire the sight before him.
Mark wasn’t exactly as fit as he used to be, but his stomach was still quite toned, the remnants of his youth still reflected on his body. The dark brown hair dusting his chest only added to the increasing attraction that Jeremy was currently grappling with. God, the man looked good with chest hair.
Jeremy could barely look the other man in the eye, as Mark grinned lazily, pulling Jeremy’s hand over his stomach and forcing his finger to trace over the planes of his abdomen, and down his happy trail.
Mark had to resist the urge to pounce on Jeremy right then and there. The blond man beside him simply looked far too adorable to not be marked up with his own teeth. Perhaps it was the years of pent up lust and longing fuelling this spontaneous desire, the feeling only growing stronger as Jeremy bit his lip, the younger man’s face and ears turning an alluring shade of pink.
Instead of letting his thoughts turn to actions, and force himself onto Jeremy, to have the man as his own like he always wanted, he had to restrain himself. Although the buzz of alcohol was still present, his sobering thoughts immediately told him that rushing things was an incredibly horrible decision.
He had only just confessed and poured his heart out to that man a mere hour or so ago. Hurrying into more than just drunken making out might destroy the entire thing he’d just developed with Jeremy over the past few hours.
With that in mind, Mark willed his mind to suppress all R-rated thoughts, and instead of leaning in to press another kiss onto those chapped lips of the other man on the couch, he instead pulled him over.
Practically tugging Jeremy down onto his bare chest, the younger man was now lying on his abdomen, ear pressed against the spot on Mark’s chest, right where his heart was.
Jeremy could feel his own heart start pounding even faster and louder than before, as he was unexpectedly pulled onto the chest of a man bigger and broader than him. The immediate warmth of human contact was the first thing he felt, aside from the feeling of dark brown chest hair brushing against his cheek.
He could hear the steady thumping of Mark’s heart, breath hitching with every other beat; his ear pressed right where the organ was. He instantly wished he were more than tipsy; the awkward awareness of his situation made him want to down at least 20 more McDougal’s.
His hand rested uncomfortably on Mark’s chest, not knowing where to place it, before he felt the bigger, rougher hands of the man he was laying on cover his own, lacing their fingers together.
Mark didn’t care that Jeremy’s hands were cold and sweaty. He didn’t even mind that the man’s stubble was pressing against his chest, the short facial hair poking his skin. He could feel the warm breath of Jeremy’s exhales, and his presence, using his own chest as a pillow. And that was good enough for him.
Resting his free hand on top of Jeremy’s head, he messed with the younger man’s dirty blond locks, which were slightly greasy with neglect. He could feel the man slightly trembling as his fingertips started massaging his scalp, and Mark held back another smile.
God, he just looked so adorable right now.
They stayed in that position for a while, before Jeremy eventually spoke up, his voice slightly muffled by Mark’s chest.
“This is not how I expected my night to go…” he mumbled, and Mark could only grunt in agreement.
“First you come over and barge into my apartment… then you get beer and drink with me…” Jeremy starts recounting, prompting Mark to finish his sentence for him.
“Then we end up having a deep conversation and kissing?” Mark teases.
“Now I’m laying on your chest like a fucking dog…” Jeremy laments, his tone slightly annoyed, although Mark would bet a shoe that he could detect a hint of fondness in the other man’s voice.
“That means I’m growing on you aren’t I? All those phone calls and it takes four beers for you to finally be my friend?” Mark continues teasing, knowing that what he was saying was true.
“I guess so… I just never imagined… that you’d show up at my door like a creep though.”
“A-ah. I did tell you how I got your address though right?”
“Some agency bullshit? Damn stalkers. I don’t want to have to move again…” Jeremy grumbles, poking Mark’s stomach to let him know just how much he appreciated his private information being collected.
“Well, might be a little late for that now.”
A comfortable silence settles over the two men for a while before Jeremy breaks the silence once more, his free hand now tracing random patterns on Mark’s chest with his fingertips.
“I-It feels so lonely… not having anyone around…” Jeremy mumbles again, nestling his face even further into Mark’s chest as he confesses.
“Hm?”
“I-I mean… now that we’ve… agreed to be more than friends… it just doesn’t seem so bad anymore… I realised.” Jeremy clarifies, almost stumbling over his words in his haste to justify his sudden comment.
“Oh? So you admit you’ve been lonely before I waltzed into your house begging for your attention?”
“I’m pouring my heart out here, don’t be so cruel.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll dial it down. But still, if you’re lonely, I have a good hotline-“
“Shut the fuck up and let me finish.” Jeremy grumbles, digging a fingernail into the flesh of Mark’s chest, causing him to yelp in surprise.
“Yes sir. Go on.” Mark had to force himself to not grin even wider than he already was at Jeremy’s feisty action.
“I guess I was sort of lonely too… I never really had anyone around that actually seemed reliable you know… like I did have friends, but it wasn’t the same.” Jeremy starts off, slightly hesitating after every clause, unsure of what to add next.
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Like none of my friends are exactly the best… one of them is a drug dealer, another works at some gas station in the middle of a campsite. None of them make more than minimum wage. Help is the last thing I would ask from those jerkasses, even if they are my friends.” Jeremy answers.
“I can see why you would say that now. Certainly doesn’t sound like a reliable group of mates.” Mark comments, going through the list of all of the descriptions Jeremy gave him.
“Exactly… can’t believe I’m still friends with them.” Jeremy scoffs, thinking back to all the fond memories he’s made with his jerkass group of friends.
“But I guess… something was missing, even if they were good company. Back then, I didn’t know what it was. And then you called me for the first time. Because one of those jerks wrote my number down on a pay phone.”
“I did call for a good time after all, and I don’t think I ever got my promised good time.” Mark jokes, recalling the hasty scrawling on the pay phone on which he first found the man’s number.
He’d called out of curiosity. Never would he have thought it would lead him to today, where he spent the past few hours trying to work through awkwardly deep conversations and unspoken tension.
“Yeah… well, you weren’t the first to call. Quite a few others did. But somehow I only remember that call you made.” Jeremy admits, burying his face in Mark’s chest hair once again as he feels the embarrassment start to wash over him at the level of corniness in his last sentence.
“I’m honoured to be the only one you recall.” the other man remarked, his fingers toying with a lock of dirty-blond hair, as the corner of his mouth perked upwards.
“It’s not so much you being special, more like you were an annoyance…” Jeremy mumbled, trying to save face by backtracking on what he just said.
“Well, I am special now, aren’t I?” Mark teased, ruffling Jeremy’s hair in a playful manner, now fully grinning once again.
“S-shut up, you’re still annoying…”
That earned a chuckle out of Mark. He couldn’t really take Jeremy seriously when the man was literally nuzzling himself into his chest, slotting right in between his pecs.
“But still… it felt so empty without anyone. My friends were good company, but not good influence. I got something out of their presence, but it was still… lonely.”
Mark nodded, deciding that now wasn’t the time for him to make any snarky comments. Instead, he encouraged Jeremy to go on. Whatever the man who had stolen his heart was willing to share, he would listen.
“I think I’ve spent my whole life drifting. I don’t know. I went to school, barely passed, barely made it to the worst college in my city. Barely graduated that. I met my group of friends there and we’ve been bad influences to each other ever since. I had many jobs over the years. A cashier, I think, once. Then I worked as a server. I finally got hired by a company who needed someone to fill a creative role. They were so desperate they didn’t even check my qualifications.” Jeremy continues, dredging up all the moments of his past, pursing his lips slightly as both fond memories and those he wished to forget floated up to the surface.
“Luckily I’ve always been somewhat decent at art. I’ve managed to sustain the job until now. I’m what… 49, pushing 50? I’m pretty old. And I realised all those years I spent drifting, I never actually lived.” Jeremy paused after the last sentence, his eyes darting to every single corner of the room, seeming almost ashamed by what he just said.
“I mean… I did go to parties or whatever when I was younger. I did all that stuff… smoking, drinking, drugs… all that shit. Never really liked it much, but beer was a way of life. It helped me get through everything. It still helps now. But I don’t rely on it as much anymore.” Jeremy continues.
“Then there was the time where my jerkass friends wrote my name on that payphone. Back when the arcade was operational, of course. Luckily, it shut down and the amount of people who called my number got less and less. I almost thought no one would call. Then…”
“I did.” Mark finished the sentence, already knowing what Jeremy was implying. “I called you.”
“I was actually scared, because you did seem interested in a good time. I don’t think that’s changed since 30 or so years ago, honestly.” Jeremy sighs, looking up to meet Mark’s eyes.
“It definitely hasn’t. Your voice is still as attractive as ever.” Mark flirted, making sure Jeremy could see him winking, causing the younger man’s cheeks to flush a rosy shade of pink.
“I don’t know what you see in me. I’m a nobody who basically spent his entire life just trying to maintain an apartment. I’m not even rich, I don’t have anything going for me… I barely have anything other than my sketchbooks.” Jeremy said, his tone self deprecating, as he listed all his flaws.
“You don’t have to be special for me to like you. I’m basically a mess myself. Only difference is I wear a suit and crack jokes about it.” Mark responds, trying to keep his tone lighthearted to stop Jeremy from picking himself apart any further.
It did work, as the younger man scoffed at Mark’s statement, before smiling ever so slightly. “So you’re claiming to be the better dressed mess here?”
“You always wear a shirt and that awful beige vest. It’s like you have nothing else in your wardrobe.” Mark comments.
“Touché.” Jeremy did only have different coloured t-shirts and shorts. And he did insist on wearing the vest everywhere.
“So I remember when I was about like 30, I thought life was far too boring and I wanted to finally live a little. So I asked one of my friends to get me a pet.” Jeremy decided to start sharing again, piquing Mark’s interest.
“Oh, so this is why there’s a charge for-“
“Yes, Mark. My fucking douchebag of a friend got me a hedgehog. I was expecting a puppy or a cat, but no. A prickly ball of spikes. And he imported it. Illegally. So guess why the cops showed up at my doorstep?” Jeremy sighed.
“The hedgehog.” Mark answered.
“It was a baby, to add on. They let me fill in the paperwork, although they did fine me for not getting the license to own it. So I got to keep my hedgehog.”
“You’re kidding. They let you keep it?” Mark asked incredulously.
“Yeah. The cops let you off easy in this city. They may have keyed the charge into whatever agency database you got my address and number from, but they sure as hell didn’t take the hedgehog. I guess they didn’t want to deal with it.” Jeremy explained.
“What happened to it?” Mark couldn’t help but wonder aloud.
“I kept it till it died.”
“Never pegged you for the type to keep a pet.” Mark was thoroughly amused by the fact that Jeremy had chosen to raise the hedgehog.
“I couldn’t just let it go in the wild. That douchebag smuggled it in for me. It would’ve died if I let it go.” Jeremy reasons, thinking back to his thirties, trying to juggle his job and taking care of a ball of living spikes at once.
“That just sounds like you’re a softie.” Mark teased, poking Jeremy’s cheek playfully as the blond man blushed again, rolling his eyes at Mark.
“Shut the fuck up.” Jeremy growled, sounding more adorable than intimidating.
Mark simply chuckled and ruffled his hair.
They fell into a sort of comfortable silence once again, neither man saying a word. Mark continued to stroke Jeremy’s hair, while Jeremy started tracing abstract patterns and shapes on Mark’s bare chest with his fingertips.
“I like this, honestly.” Mark finally breaks the silence, with a statement that Jeremy can only nod in agreement to.
“It’s… peaceful somehow.” Jeremy adds.
“I don’t want this to be a one time thing.” Mark confesses, and Jeremy has to scoff at that.
“I thought we already agreed earlier, that this wouldn’t be.”
“Yeah. I suppose so.”
Neither man had any idea how long they spent in that position. Jeremy sprawled on Mark’s chest, listening to the steady heartbeat of a man who was meant to be dead. Mark running his hands through the hair of a man who spent the majority of his life alone.
Eventually, Mark’s hand left Jeremy’s hair, only for him to realise that the man had fallen asleep a while ago, with his cheek still pressed against his heart.
A small smile creeped onto his face, and Mark sat up, pulling the younger man up and carrying him to his bedroom, thanking his old job for giving him the sufficient strength training to carry his now-boyfriend to bed, even at the age of 55.
Setting Jeremy on the bed, Mark finally slipped off his shirt, before getting under the covers and pulling Jeremy closer to him, right back in the same position as he was on the couch. The small little smile gave way to him practically bursting with joy as Jeremy subconsciously snuggles into him, letting out the most adorable sigh that Mark has ever heard.
He continues to pet Jeremy, thinking back to the years where he was curious and lonely, desperate for a semblance of authentic human connection that his job never allowed him to have. He’d discovered Jeremy’s number by chance, and thank the heavens he had chosen to call it that day.
Perhaps the near 30 years of pining after a man he only knew the voice of wasn’t as crazy as it had originally seemed. Because he now had the man he was so infatuated with, in bed with him, on his chest, and most important of all, an agreement to be his boyfriend.
He strained his neck to kiss his boyfriend on the forehead, letting himself relish the satisfaction and pure excitement of the night, and what was to come, wash over him. He was going to finally let the mentally draining job of murder cleaning go, and in exchange, get to spend his retirement years with the one man that he had considered his friend these long, miserable years.
He was perhaps right to have barged into Jeremy’s apartment in the middle of the night, introducing himself like a lunatic. After all, it did lead to something more, something he would have never thought possible, yet here he was.
The last thought Mark had before drifting off to sleep, was just how cute and peaceful Jeremy looked while asleep on his chest, cheek pressed to one of his pecs.
The sun eventually rises, rudely awakening Mark from a very enjoyable dream of spending happy times with Jeremy. Still, he couldn’t be too mad, for the man he had been dreaming of was still fast asleep, sprawled on his chest.
It seems that the harsh rays of morning sun had woken Jeremy up as well, for the man on his chest slowly started to stir, groggily opening his eyes.
“Hey.” Mark whispered, smiling at the confused expression on his partners face.
“Hey…” Jeremy mumbles. “What time is it?”
“8 a.m. It’s still very early. Go back to sleep.” Mark says, checking the digital alarm clock on Jeremy’s bedside.
“Ugh… there’s still beer on the table outside…” Jeremy mumbles in annoyance, thinking back to late last night.
“Leave it. Go back to sleep.” Mark insists, pulling the covers even higher over Jeremy, making him as comfortable as possible.
“But-“
“No, the only thing that we have to talk about now is that, since you’re my boyfriend now, I will have to restrict you from buying McDougal’s, because I now have the authority to do so.” Mark playfully remarks, shushing Jeremy who only grumbles in response.
“What’s so bad about McDougal’s?” He complains, leaning further into Mark’s comfortably warm embrace.
Mark cracks a mischievous smile. “Oh, listen up, because there are many, many things that are absolutely foul and unforgivable-“
“Forget I asked. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Hey, you can’t-“ Mark starts, but Jeremy is already conked out again, sleeping soundly on his chest as if he had never actually been awake at all.
“You can’t be serious…” Mark grumbles, but not in irritation. Instead, he goes right back to stroking Jeremy’s dirty blond hair, lamenting on the entire night’s events once again.
The entire thing has left him with a boyfriend, and a feeling of contentment unlike anything he’d ever experienced. For once, he would get to live a good life with Jeremy, instead of cleaning bodies on the daily.
And he simply could not wait. But first things first, he needed to get his boyfriend to stop drinking McDougal’s, because Mark has priorities, and this is the one on the very top of the list.