TITLE: Love never wanted me, but I took it anyway
AUTHOR: JackValentine
BETA: deluge
PAIRING: Marcus Butler/Tyler Oakley
RATING: R
GENRE: Angst
SIZE: Mini
WARNINGS: No warnings
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I tried to search for Myler fanfiction and found nothing satisfactory, so naturally I had to write something! Sit back and enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything and seek nothing.
Tyler was leading the shitfaced Marcus through the hallway, well, Marcus was clutching on Tyler's shoulder, as he was the only steady thing in the spinning and bouncing world that was now the world of Marcus Butler. He was stumbling and laughing at how soft his legs felt and listening to Tyler's laughter that echoed his. As they reached the door, Marcus anchored himself to the doorknob and swayed in.
- Marcus no, it's my bedroom, not the... Sigh.
It was the second night Marcus was spending at Tyler's place during his visit to the US, so he must've mixed up the doors.
- Okay, let's go there, - chuckled Tyler.
Being the designated driver, he felt ridiculously sober, especially watching Marcus, who must've had a bit too much fun.
Marcus proceeded to flop onto the bed, resting his back against the headboard. Tyler felt the bigger man pull his arm and ended up on Marcus' lap, facing him. It wasn't the first time they've been in such position, it was always in an innocent funny way, so Tyler just went with it.
For a couple of seconds they were just sitting there, but suddenly Tyler felt Marcus' palms slide down his back and onto his ass. If it happened during the day, if there were people around, he would be cool with it, but the intimacy of the moment was getting all that was going on closer to the line. The darkness of the bedroom didn't help either. Tyler grabbed Marcus' wrists abruptly and pulled his hands back up.
- Marcus, it's not funny anymore, - he said, lowering his voice.
- Do you see me laugh or something?
Tyler looked at Marcus' face, trying to make out his features in the dark. His sight was still hazy, but there wasn't even a smile on his lips. He wasn't necessarily aware of what he was doing, but he was dead serious about it.
Tyler flinched. What can be harder than resisting the one thing that you've always wanted? Tyler was at loss of words, as for as much as he had imagined things, that was not even close to what he wanted them to go like, for as much unreleased, supressed feelings he had stored up, that wasn't the way.
- I want to touch you, Tyler. - Marcus' voice cut the silence. It seemed to Tyler that the british accent Butler had got even thicker. - God I don't know why, but I want to touch you so bad.
Tyler could swear to Jesus that there was hurt in that voice. There was desperation and confusion. Confused - that was what he sounded like. Oakley still couldn't find the right words, so he just sat there, looking at Marcus' chest, too afraid to look up. He felt the bigger man's palms slide down again. In seconds Marcus' fingers dug into Tyler's butt, pressing him close tighter, which made him shift, afraid that Marcus would feel that he had a hard on.
- Do you want to touch me? - murmured Marcus.
That question would have sounded too casual for the occasion if it wasn't for the hint of uncertainty. That made Tyler let out a short, broken sigh. How could Marcus be uncertain about that? Wasn't Tyler making himself clear enough? The sole idea of making the man that he most desired since the day they met feel like he wasn't wanted seemed terrifying. "You have no idea", - thought Tyler to himself. Tyler wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs, to shout, to yell it, to make Marcus understand, how his everything turns upside down whenever they meet, how Tyler wants every friendly hug that Marcus gives him to linger for just a little bit longer, how he looks for Marcus' smile, or eyes, or dimple in other men and how he never finds it.
Tyler leaned forward just a little bit and touched Marcus' strong arms with lean, defined biceps. How many times Tyler fantasized of those arms grabbing him and taking him, or embracing and caressing him, holding him and protecting him. Still it felt unfair. "Maybe it would've been easier if I was drunk, too" - thought Tyler. "Or maybe it would've been less complicated if he was rough. If he was harsh and just didn't give me the chance to think about what the fuck I am doing.
Oh damn it, Marcus, why do you have to be like that? Why couldn't you just take the fun that you want from me and let me be? Why do you have to make it a slow torture? Why do you have to ask me if I want to touch you with this uncertainty and softness in your voice?.. "
- Why are you doing this to me?.. - Tyler just realised that he said the last part out loud.
- Doing what? - asked Marcus, his voice still soft, calming and unsure.
Tyler removed his hands off of Marcus' arms quickly and threw his leg off of his lap, now sitting next to him on the bed, facing him still.
- Do you not want..? Just tell me... I'm so sorry, Tyler, I, I don't, I don't want to, you know...
- Marcus.
Tyler couldn't say yes and couldn't say no. So he just hoped that Marcus' mind will clear up and he'll stop this. But not as much as he hoped he wouldn't. Tyler took his glasses off and put them onto the nightstand. As soon as he did, Marcus leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Tyler's lips, his palm carressing the smaller man's cheek tenderly. This time, Tyler couldn't force himself to pull away.
As Tyler was melting into the kiss, Marcus' mouth on his was becoming not less soft and tender, but more and more confident and assertive. Marcus pushed Tyler down onto his back, collapsing on top of him and pinning him to the sheets with the weigh of his fit, lean, muscular body. Now Marcus' lips were traveling down Tyler's cheekbones and neck, but those kisses weren't hasty, they were affectionate and gentle. Tyler was breathing fast and soft, almost crying at the unbelievable sensation of the man who he had always dreamt of pleasuring in any and every way possible caressing him and giving him all that tenderness that Tyler couldn't even imagine being given to him before. Oakley was just laying there, still, afraid to scare the other man away.
At once, Marcus froze, making Tyler open his eyes in fear that the bigger man must've finally realized what was happening. That thought immidiately made Tyler feel horrible about himself - was he hoping that Marcus would remain barely concsious to take advantage of it? But instead of jumping up and leaving the room Marcus moved him mouth closer to Tyler's ear.
- Do you want me to stop? - he whispered with a hint of pleading in his voice as his heated breath upon Tyler's skin seemed to break the shell, finally letting the smaller man move, making him clutch hard on the back of Marcus's shirt and press his body even tighter to his own.
- Please, please, do whatever you want to me, but j-just don't stop, - Tyler whined, begging, whimpering. Letting go off Marcus now felt like sudden death.
Marcus put his hands on Tyler's hips and overturned them back to the position where Tyler was sitting on his lap. Tyler's eyes now got used to the darkness, and what he saw in front of him was Marcus with his ruffled blonde hair, with his cheeks redder than ever, with his beautiful, lust-fogged eyes loking straight into Tyler's. That was the Marcus he had never seen before.
As Tyler was riding Marcus, his hands cupping his face tight, his mouth kissing Marcus' flustered lips non-stop, torturing them with passionate, desperate kisses, with every hard thrust Tyler thought: "Don't you dare even think that I don't want you, don't you dare ever doubt it, don't you dare, don't you dare, don't you dare, don't you dare..."
Marcus went out of Tyler's bedroom only when it was almost time to leave. He refused to take the cup of tea that Tyler made him, instead, he sat on the sofa and asked Tyler to sit next to him. Marcus rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, before lifting his head and looking at Tyler for the first time since the previous night. He had massive dark circles under his eyes and was obviously hungover.
- Well, okay, we clearly need to talk, - he let out a short fake chuckle. Tyler didn't respond. He was just sitting with his back unnaturally upright, looking down.
Marcus was embarrassingly tongue-tied. He felt soft and vulnerable. He'd always had this strange feeling of being protective of Tyler. He'd randomly get this will to put his arm around Tyler in a crowded place, or to sit next to him at a big dinner table. And whenever there wasn't a smile on Tyler's face, he'd always wanted to put it there. Marcus felt it now, too. But he also felt like that would be incredibly out of place. Like cutting a cat's tail off in small pieces out of pity. So he gathered up all of his guts and...
- Okay, I'll go straight to it. You do realise that this... we, just, can't be a thing, right?
Of course Tyler realised it. Ever since he found himself on Marcus' lap in the dark bedroom. But it still felt a little more painful than a stab to the heart. A little tense smile appeared on Tyler's face.
- Sure.
Unluckily for him, his voice cracked right in the middle of it, and Marcus surely noticed it.
- Damn, Tyler, I'm so sorry I did that.
What was planned to be comforting, hurt even worse. "Of course you are sorry, - thought Tyler, - would be stupid of me to expect you not to be".
- I am so sorry, Tyler, - Marcus was speaking in a very low voice and leaning in to Tyler, even though there was no one else in the house, - I am so, so sorry. Will you forgive me, Tyler?
- Of course I will, - he said and smiled, as he usually would, but there was something off. His lips were smiling, but his eyes were blank and glossy.
Marcus pressed out a tiny, guilty smile, that faded almost right away. He leaned even closer and lowered his eyes. The intimacy that he felt with Tyler last night was still there. It was stinging and caressing his whole being. His miserable, conflicted being.
Marcus could smell the aroma of Tyler's skin and could see him breathing heavy. Marcus felt this inexplicable attraction, magnetic almost. He found himself thinking about caressing Tyler's neck. Or stroking his cheek. Out of an impulse, Marcus leaned in silently even closer to Tyler's face. The smaller man didn't pull back an inch.
Whether it was just Tyler being to concentrated on not showing his emotions to react accordingly, or he really felt the same way, it gave Marcus a green light. He gazed up into Tyler's eyes. The expression didn't change since. Marcus felt this itching, quivering desire to soften Tyler up somehow, lord knows why and what for, so, before he knew, he closed the tiny space separating them in and pressed his mouth, swollen from kissing, to Tyler's. Their lips connected immidiately in a soft, warm sensation. Marcus broke the kiss for air barely even moving away and re-established his grip on Tyler's lips with a firmer kiss, pushing him back. And there they were again, Tyler on his back on the sofa, Marcus hovering over him, his eyes shut tight, his stubble pricking at Tyler's face, his personal space full of Tyler again, and it felt good, Marcus couldn't fight or deny it anymore. Suddenly, he felt a weak, but determined push on his chest. Tyler turned his face back and to the side, away from Marcus', and rested his palms against him.
- Marcus.
Yet again, he couldn't say no. But he had to at least give him the opportunity to choose.
- Right. - Marcus said in a flat, lifeless voice, and got up.
Tyler could barely remember Marcus getting dressed, packing the rest of his things and rushing to catch his flight to London. Through this whole time Tyler was sat on the sofa in the living room. As he heard the door close, he grabbed a pillow and threw it against the wall with the most force he had, then sliding down to the floor, his face buried in his knees.
"Oh my God, don't you dare think I don't want you, - he thought, - don't you dare, don't you dare, don't you dare, don't you dare..."