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Mark ran a slow hand over his face as he stared towards the ceiling. Another night. He wasn’t even sure what it was a night of. Loneliness? Exhaustion? Passivity? When was the last time he had a good night? A night that made him feel like himself? He wished he could remember.
Karen had stopped going to help with the Wednesday youth group a few months back. That was the first sign of his world crumbling.
“Grace is going to college, and we need more time to look into schools together,” she had told him. A fair point. Their daughter’s future was important to her, to both of them. But she could’ve still done the youth group. But he couldn’t tell her that. She was adamant on it, and Mark had learned not to cross her when it came to Grace. She wanted her happiness. And so Mark would let her take her there.
He grunted in frustration. He put himself in this situation, not Karen. He followed the path of God, who had given her to him. This was what he was meant to want. He shouldn’t blame her. Not after all the work she’d put into making their house stable and right.
But he really didn’t want to blame himself for it either.
Mark picked up his phone from the coffee table, laying his head down on the couch throw pillows, a sigh releasing from his lips as he opened his phone with face ID, swiping through his phone until he reached one of his app folders. He scrolled through until he found his hidden, tucked away app.
Grindr.
Which, he knew from being on it, wasn’t as scandalous as he first believed. People his age were gay. People his age were fine with it.
Mark was the standout.
One of the few yet to accept himself.
And he’d found the prospect of being married made it hard to find a date.
Except, there was always one. Always one sleazeball who’d do anything with anyone, no matter their marital status.
Scrolling through the men he’d previously matched with, he found his old favorite. His cardigan under the bed, the old flame revived. The sad part was that it was none other than Theodore Spankoffski, the town sleazeball. The asshole, the idiot, the slut.
And damn it, there was nothing better than that first kiss. That moment after their school's production of Jesus Christ Superstar (the one show Mark could ever bring himself to join, his passion hidden away for years) when Ted had joined so he could get with the girl playing the lead role.
And they were never caught.
Mark still held it dear. The soft flirting backstage, wide eyed glances in the hall. They were never seen speaking, just in the vicinity of each other, but that cast party was the best party Mark had ever been to. His first drink. His first kiss. The way Ted dragged his hand over his ass and gripped him hard, erection pressing against Mark’s front as he leaned him over the bed of the stage manager.
Oh holy God, Mark couldn’t go back to this. He shouldn’t.
He and Ted had matched some months ago. They’d gone for drinks a few times. They’d touched once. Mark never knew he could be so aroused. It was just a touch. Just a hand on his cock. But it was enough. More than enough.
He was a sinful, sinful man.
Hey.
Mark was never good at starting these types of conversations. They weren’t his forte. He was much better at responding to advances than making them.
Are you awake?
Delivered.
Seen.
Those small little text bubbles made him want to puke.
Ya why?
Oh sweet Jesus. He should give up on this now.
U need something?
Yes, Mark wanted to say. Yes, I need you to come to my house while my wife and daughter are asleep and fuck me on my God damn couch while I stare at the portrait of Jesus Christ we have hanging in our living room. I want to praise the lord while I break into your hand and I want to escape with you because you’re the worst man I’ve ever known and somehow you make me want to upend my life.
Are you able to call?
That was good enough.
The call came in. Facetime. He was doing this. He was actually doing this.
He answered to a shirtless Ted with a toothbrush in his mouth, a messy bathroom in the back as he spit into the base of the sink.
“You need something?” Ted asked as he brought his head back up, wet hair flipping back messily over his naked shoulder. His eyes didn’t meet the camera, as he wiped his face with his hand and grabbed his phone. Finally, he looked at Mark, and laughed. “You look like a fucking mess.”
Mark rolled his eyes, wanting to be offended. But he asked to call, he couldn’t say much of anything, “Oh, be quiet,” he scoffed, eyes meeting Ted’s in the camera, “I am a mess.”
“Mhm. What do you want?” He had left the bathroom and moved to a bedroom he’d only see in pictures of Ted’s hard cock in his hand. In the moment, he wished to be there, sprawled out on his bed, legs spread like wings in flight, Ted looking down at him with that grin he knew so well.
He knew exactly what he wanted.
“I don’t know.”
He just knew he wanted Ted. In this moment, and maybe only this moment, he wanted Ted. Which was foolish. But it was his truth. He just wished for Ted.
He was brought away from his moment of introspection as Ted snorted, laying down in his bed, “I know what you want, Chasity.”
Ugh. Shit. He was such an asshole he shouldn’t be hot. Frankly, there was nothing he did that Mark was overly turned on by. It was just that he was there. And he was pretty. So freaking pretty.
“Damn it,” Mark muttered, unzipping his jeans. He knew Ted heard it from the way his face shifted, once playful and now somewhat shocked. Mark didn’t care. Why should he care when just looking at him turned him on? His mustache he hadn’t shaved in years, his hair grown out passed his shoulders. In high school he kept it so short, but now it was the perfect length to yank, to hold in Mark’s mouse as he swallowed moans of pleasure. He palmed himself for a moment, imagining it, before the same voice he wished to whisper sweetness in his ears brought him away from his thoughts again.
“Wait, you’re serious?”
He looked back up at the camera, his cheeks reddening. He took his hand away for a moment, leaning up. “I wouldn’t have called you just to look at you.”
Oh hell. The way Ted looked at him, so shocked, so damn aroused. Mark moved his hand back into his boxers and took in a heavy breath. Just that momentary touch of his shaft made him stiffen.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“Jerked off?”
Mark rolled his eyes. He wasn’t that pure. Ted knew that.
“No, phone sex.”
“Ah,” Ted had leaned back on his mattress, “Well, this isn’t much of phone sex. This is you getting off while you call me,” Ted shrugged nonchalantly as Mark’s hand stopped, “I mean, I could like,” he smoldered, “Get you there.”
Mark bit down on his lip and lowered his gaze, “Oh. Can you?” He ran his hand over his cock again, “Gonna use your dirty talk on me? Because I’m sure you’re great at that,” he grinned through his teeth, a gleeful tease in his eyes.
“Yeah, Chasity. I’m going to make you come in front of the cross I know you have somewhere in your home,” Ted’s toothy look slipped from his cheeks, smile wide and gorgeous, “Pretend it’s my hand. Or my mouth. Or something, I really don’t know.”
Mark chuckled. This man was as pathetic as he was when he met him in high school. Still a slippery sleazeball with no idea what he was doing with a man who was interested back. The moment it went passed one sided interest, Ted was a mess of a man.
And damn it, his shitty dirty talk, the way he had no idea how to approach the situation, it made Mark press his thumb over his tip, hot precum coating his finger, as he ran it back down his sturdy shaft. He shuddered, oozing with pent up frustration as he held the phone up by his head. He groaned into the mic, moving it closer as his eyes lay back in his head, hips bucking into his hand, moving just a bit faster, finding his rhythm.
“Mark, fucking hell,” Ted put his hand over his mouth and tried to laugh, “What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
It was a simple question. What does it look like he’s doing? But Ted froze, cheeks red, and Mark went back to focusing on thrusting his hips into his hand.
Ted watched on as Mark’s face twisted, how his cheeks flushed and his lip trembled. He gazed into his warm eyes that drifted open and closed as he shifted, his whole body beginning to burn to life.
He grunted and moaned and pleaded and on the other end whenever Mark opened his eyes he saw Ted grow more and more confused and aroused and gorgeous. His lips glistened and all the way up to his ears he was blushing red. It made him closer, made him want this more, wanted it to be Ted’s long fingers over his cock, making him stiffen and twitch and leak. He wanted it to be Ted to clean him, to wipe him away of his sins.
He wished it would be Ted.
Mark’s orgasm crashed over him like a wave in high tide. His hand was coated with warmth, his pleasure taking the wind out of him, and he opened his eyes and looked towards the camera to see Ted, absolutely frozen. His mouth hung open, lips wet, light skin tinted red. He smiled, wanted to laugh, but was content with a stare into those eyes he’d never forget. They were too gorgeous to forget.
“Ted,” he smiled, watching the man on the other end come back to life.
The moment he noticed Mark’s face on his, the way his smile twisted into soft devotion, the screen went black. There was a long buzz as he processed what it meant. The color drained from Mark’s face as he clicked his tongue, taking his hand out of his pants and zipping them closed. He sighed, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth before clicking it in defeat.
He should’ve expected it. And yet, somehow he didn’t think it would happen.
This was Ted Spankoffski he was falling for. He shouldn’t expect a happy ending.