"Oh God baby, you're so good."
The words whispered into his ear made his heart clench, fore he knew his partner didn't mean them. He knew what this was. He's known from the beginning that this wasn't love. This was a mockery of it. This was lies and lust wrapped in sweetly endearing words and false smiles.
A gasp escaped his bruised lips, as his bedmate shifted and hit just right inside him, allowing a volt of pleasure to shoot through his body. His body clenching down on the manhood inside of him. His reaction causing the other to shudder and beginning to increase the speed of his thrusts, lips ghosting along his neck teasingly.
"Baby, you fit just like a glove around me."
Baby. It was always baby, never was his name whispered so lovingly. Always baby, always some imagined figure taking his place, and yet he allows this to happen time and again. He was so weak. He was so cowardly. He should have known from the start.
Another hit to his prostate forced from his thoughts, his eyes searching out those of his partners. Every time though his gaze was avoided, his partner hiding in his neck in the guise of leaving marks. And he had plenty of them to show. The possessive marks along his neck that he wished were really for him and not the one he was standing in for. Bruises on his hips and thighs from the roughness of the sex, not love making. Never did they make love. That was reserved for someone who actually mattered.
The grip on his hips grew tighter, before one hand reached down and proceeded to pump him. It seems his partner was in a somewhat caring mood, he was trying to make him come first. Maybe he would get lucky and his partner would be feeling warm enough to hold him, if only for a minute in the afterglow when they finished. His gut tightened in warning of his impending orgasm, he wanted to hold out though. He wanted to hold on for just a minute longer, if only so he could feel as if his bedmate truly wanted him.
He felt the tears beginning to gather in his eyes, they would be easily masked as sweat from their physical activity.
He came, and as he did he felt another piece of his heart break. As his partner released inside of him all he could think was, 'Why can't he love me? What's wrong with me? Don't I deserve to be loved?'
But this isn't a fairytale or some Hollywood movie, this was real life and he was so tired.
His partner flopped down next to him almost instantly falling asleep. Well look at that, he can pretend for the next hour or two that this was a relationship and not just relations. He allowed himself a moment to soak in the warmth of his partner before getting out of bed to clean them up. He always did the clean up. His partner leaving, disappearing or falling asleep before even the mention of it could be brought up.
As he wet a cloth with warm water he gazed at himself in the mirror. Saw the bite marks on his neck and outlines of fingers on his hips, the drying cum that stuck to his stomach, and the heartbroken tears that now fell from his eyes. He deserved better, but he kept going back. His bedmate was a walking drug and he was the addict. He needed to treat this like any other addiction, either he could wean himself off or go cold turkey. Neither option was particularly attractive, but wouldn't it be better than sitting in his apartment? Waiting for whenever he decided to show up and be used like he meant nothing?
Why did he have to fall in love with a man, who could never love him back?
He continued with the clean, lost in his thoughts. He eventually laid down back in the bed, facing his partner. Taking in the sight of that beautiful face that was always able to get him to surrender with a sultry smirk and a couple poison dipped words of love.
He was so tired; physically, mentally, emotionally. He was tired and he was done.
Just as predicted his partner woke up, eyes quickly focusing. An arrogant smirk covering up the thoughts of how to escape running through his head, but he knows. He learned long ago to interpret what he was thinking just by a look.
His bedmate rolled out of bed, quickly getting dressed, excuses pouring from his lips as to why he had to leave now. It was only as his partner walked to the door that his brain kicked into overdrive, heartbreak turning to sadness that swiftly became anger. He was done.
He was done being used.
Hearing his front door close, he jumped out of bed and threw on his boxers and undershirt that he had lost earlier. His new found anger causing his brain to make him act out things he'd only thought before. But he was done.
He opened the door, seeing the figure a few feet down the hall, a swagger in his step.
"Tony." He called out.
His bedmate froze suddenly, turning to look at him so quickly he would have been afraid he'd gotten whiplash. If he had any care left. Tony looked at him shocked and thrown off by the sudden turn of events. All he did though was lean against the door frame of his apartment arms crossed, hoping that he was in some way conveying the absolute totality of what was happening.
"Baby what-"
"Jimmy. My name is Jimmy, not baby or sweetheart or gremlin." Tony jolted as if anticipating a punch. He should know him better than that. They connected their eyes across the hall neither moving from their positions. Jimmy felt the adrenaline slowly leaving his body, his knees feeling as if they would buckle at any second. But he had to do this, if he didn't do it now he never would. He was breaking the cycle.
"Tony, I'm saying this once and only once." He said calmly, keeping as much emotion as he could out of his voice. Although the feeling of running and hiding began to slowly creep on him. "I deserve better than this."
"Palmer-"
"No!" he asserted himself, the strength behind it making Tony flinch again. "I deserve better than a partner who only uses me as a stand in for someone else. As a warm body to help him through a dry spell. I deserve a partner who honestly cares for me just for being me, not for what I can give him."
"Palmer, there is no one else." Tony made an aborted step towards him. "I love you."
"No you don't," he replied, his voice cracking with emotion that was coming to the surface. Tears once again gathering in his eyes and dripping down his cheeks. Tony's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the tears, is that guilt in his eyes? Or is it just hopeful wishing? "You love who you wish I was. I got my hopes up when we started whatever this is. I thought that you saw me, that you actually loved me. But no, I'm just Jimmy Palmer. Autopsy Gremlin, who will never be enough."
"Jimmy that's not true." Tony made to walk towards him, stopping when Jimmy quickly raised his hand in signal to stop.
"Don't, if you come over here you'll tell me things you think I want to hear and I won't be able to get through this." He reached up to his face with his other hand to wipe away the tears. "This is my ultimatum Tony. Go home and think about what you want. When you're done come and see me, and know this. When we next meet, if you walk away again, it will be the last time. My heart can't take it anymore. Either choose me or choose her, but you can't be with me and have her on your mind."
Tony stood silently in the hallway, mouth agape in shock. Jimmy looked to make sure the message had sunk in, before going back into his apartment.
"Good night, Tony."
And with that he closed the door, before falling to his knees crying. Desperately clutching at his shirt just above where his broken heart painfully beat. He already knows what Tony will do. He knows his answer before he does. He's always known.
After all who would want nerdy, strange, Jimmy Palmer. When they could have someone beautiful and suave like Ziva David.
Who would want him?