The Fading Trilogy: Fading, Freeing, Falling: Includes 2 BONUS short stories: Hoping and Finding Forever (78 page)

For the next half hour, Mark’s band finishes their last set. A couple of girls approach Ryan, and he pushes them away without giving them a glance. Mel walks over to him and whispers, “Why don’t you head home? Max and I can close everything up.”

He doesn’t speak when he pushes his coffee mug towards her and stands up. Giving me a nod, he turns and walks away. Mel takes the mug, and when I look at her, she just shakes her head and quietly says, “Don’t ask.”

When the night winds down, Mark packs up his stuff, and I follow him out to his car. He seems irritated from earlier, so the drive back to my place is silent. When we get close, I say, “Park in the garage,” because I don’t want him to go to home. I need to talk to him. I need to figure out how to move past this, and I need to be honest with him.

He doesn’t respond; he just turns the corner and drives down into the underground lot. When we walk inside my place, he heads to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water.

“You mind if I take a quick shower?”

“No,” I say as he is already walking to my bathroom.

When he turns the water on, I text Candace to check in.

Just got home. Interesting evening.

I go to my room, strip out of my clothes, and throw on a pair of gym shorts. My phone chimes as I slide into bed.

Is that good or bad?

Bad. Everything was weird.

With Mark?

It’s me with Mark. I was really cold to him because I was embarrassed.

You have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of.

But I am, and Mark knows it.

What did he say?

Nothing. He’s in the shower now. How are you?

You need to talk to him, and I’m fine. About to go to bed. Just been studying.

I’m gonna talk to him. I love you, sweetie.

I love you too. Tell Mark the same.

I hear the water turn off and I shoot one last text.

I will. Call me tomorrow, okay?

Mark walks into the room with a towel slung low on his hips and water still beaded on his smooth skin.
Fuck he’s hot.
He looks over at me when my phone chimes again. I pick it up to read the text as Mark opens my dresser to get a pair of my shorts.

I have to work early. I’ll text when I’m off. Night.

Night.

“Candace says she loves you.”

He doesn’t say anything when he slips under the covers with me. I turn to face him and tell him, “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I don’t know how to let it go.”

Mark just lays there, his hair still wet, and looks in my eyes. I let down my walls and open up. “I don’t want to hide parts of me from you, but I don’t know how to do that. I get scared. I’m afraid people are judging me.” I close my eyes for a second before looking back at him. “You seem so sure of yourself, and I’m so far from that. I want to give that to you. I don’t want to mess this up, and I don’t want you to change the way you are with me because everything you do, you do it perfectly.”

When he reaches his hand around the back of my neck, he shifts closer to me. He barely presses his lips to mine when he whispers, “It’s not always that easy for me either.”

I look into his eyes and can see the honesty there. Having him give me those words takes some pressure off. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him. When I seal my lips with his, he slides his tongue along mine, feeling me, and I roll on top of him. I drag my mouth down and along his jaw as he tangles his fingers in my hair. Running my hand down his cut stomach, I softly bite the curve of his neck when I slip my hand down his shorts and grip him firmly in my hand. He throbs against my hold, and it intensifies my desire to have him. As I let out a deep moan, I inch myself down the length of his body and between his legs. Slipping his shorts off, I toss them aside before lowering myself and taking him in my mouth, tasting him.

“Uhh, fuck,” he moans out and tugs my hair.

This isn’t something I’ve ever done with guys; they’ve always done this to me. The shame that has always come along with me giving a man anything like this would dredge up all of my feelings about how uncomfortable I am with being gay. Like the idea of me giving another guy head would somehow take me to a new level of gay. It’s stupid; it’s my own fucked up way of trying to rationalize things. But I want to give this to him. I want to leave those screwed up thoughts behind because I love him, even though I’m not quite ready to say it. I’m scared, and I know it. I feel closer to him than anyone else, but I still need more, and this is the only way I know how right now.

I take my time and focus on making him feel as good as I can. I give, not wanting anything from him in return. My mouth is clenched firmly around him as I use my hand to add more pressure, and when I squeeze tighter, his moan is deep. “Oh God, Jase.”

Hearing him say my name like that does me in, and I quicken my pace and suck harder. I know he’s close when I feel him swell even more. He bucks his hips, and I grip him with my free hand as he begins to come.

“Oh God, don’t stop,” he pants, and I don’t. I let him ride it out for as long as he can hold on, and when he relaxes underneath me, he reaches down and pulls me up to him. I hover over him as he stares up in my eyes, his face flushed. He gives me a sexy grin before he lowers me down to him and kisses me. There’s something about this kiss that’s more intimate than any of our others.

Giving Mark this, something I have never given anyone else, makes me want to give him even more. There’s no shame, no regret; there’s only love for the man that is showing me that it’s okay to be me. I rest my body on top of his, and we wrap each other up in our arms as we continue to slowly move our lips together. It’s all we do for a while. It’s all I want to do; getting lost in him is peaceful in a way I can’t describe. He calms me when we are together like this, and I don’t want this with anyone but him.

Not wanting to stop, I mumble against his lips, “I just want you.”

He pulls back and places his hands along my jaw. “You have me.”

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Mark says in frustration as he stares at the smoke rising from the pan.

I laugh and nudge him away from the stove. Flipping the bread over, it’s charred black. “You are completely helpless in the kitchen, you know that?”

“I told you; it’s pointless trying to teach me how to cook.”

“Dude! It’s grilled cheese,” I say as I toss it in the trashcan. “Any child could make that, but you, you turn that shit on high and scorch it.”

Mark laughs as he says, “Babe, can we just order a pizza? I’m done trying to cook.”

Rinsing out the pan, I look up at him and smile while shaking my head. “Hopeless.”

“We’re eating pizza,” he asserts as he plucks his cell from the counter.

“Hey, can you plug in my laptop? I think my battery is about to die.”

Nodding his head, he gets my computer from my backpack and plugs it in as he’s ordering us dinner. The past couple of weeks at school have been busy with our project’s initial presentations to our professors. I’ve fallen a little behind with everything, so although Mark insisted on coming over and hanging out tonight, he promised to help me with some of the drafting I need to get done.

“Okay, pizza is on its way.”

I wipe down the counter and walk over to the couch where my laptop is plugged in and open it up.

“Do you have any heat packs here?” Mark asks. “My shoulder’s been killing me ever since we left the gym this morning.”

“Yeah, I have some in my bag in the closet.”

When he comes back out of my room, he takes his shirt off and sits down next to me, holding the pack against his shoulder. I never knew that Ryan worked out at our gym, but last week Mark had run into him, so we’ve been meeting up a couple times a week to lift weights. Ryan is pretty quiet for the most part, but despite what Gavin had told me, he seems like a good guy.

“I think Candace left some Tiger’s Balm over here if you want to use it,” I tell him.

“She’s crazy with that stuff,” he laughs out. “She is the only person I know who smears that crap on and then wraps her legs up in Saran Wrap.”

I bust out laughing at all the times I have seen her do that. “She swears it works better that way. She’s been doing it for years.”

Shaking his head, he says, “That girl cracks me up with how serious she is.”

“Yeah,” I sigh out as he props his feet on the coffee table and leans into me. He grabs the remote and turns it to SportsCenter as I get some AutoCAD work done while we wait for dinner to get here.

When a commercial comes on, Mark asks, “Has Ryan said anything about Gavin? I haven’t been seeing him around lately.”

Continuing to work on my project, I keep my eyes fixed on the screen, when I tell him, “Ryan isn’t much of a talker, but I could tell that Gavin was starting to piss him off the other week.”

“Huh.”

“Why?”

“No reason. Just wondering,” he says.

I chuckle at him, and tease, “You’re nosey.”

“I’m not nosey.”

“It kills you that you can’t know everything that goes on outside of your presence.”

He starts laughing because he knows it’s true. We both do. Mark loves gossip, and is always filling me in on crap I couldn’t care less about, but I don’t ever say anything. It’s just one of his quirks that I get a kick out of.

“Dude, I just want to know what the hell happened. Gavin said they used to be really close.”

“Okay, fine. All I know is that Gavin had said that Ryan has started acting weird in the past few weeks. He told me that Ryan used to spend his time doing not much more than hooking up with chicks, and then suddenly he stopped. That’s all I know. Is that enough gossip to satisfy you?”

“Did you ask anything?”

“What? No, man. I don’t really care.”

“Hmm.”

I just laugh at him as I continue to work. When the pizza comes, I take a break and eat before getting back to my project. Rolling out my blueprints, he helps me mark them up. I hear my phone ring from the kitchen, and when I walk over and pick it up, my stomach clenches with anxiety.

Looking up at Mark, I say, “It’s my mom,” before I answer it and walk to my bedroom.

“Mom, hi.”

“Jason,” she sighs out, and I can tell that she’s crying. I walk around my bed and sit on the edge.

“Is everything all right?” I ask her. Despite everything, I still love my parents. Flaws and all. They are the only family I have.

“I haven’t been okay since you left. I’ve been praying for you every day. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” I grasp on to the hope that she’s had a change of heart about me.

I hear her cries thicken as she continues to talk. “I’m worried about you, dear.”

“Mom, don’t cry. I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me,” I try to assure her.

“But I am. I want you to come home.”

“I can’t come home right now. I’m in the middle of the quarter.”

“No, I think you should move back here.”

Lowering my elbows to my knees, I ask, “What are you talking about?” as hope slowly starts to fade.

“Ever since you left, you’ve been a completely different person. I talked to Pastor Richardson, and he agreed to see you for counseling to try and help you work through whatever is going on.”

“Mom,” I breathe out, and I hear the desperation in her voice when she pleads, “Please, Jason. You’re the only child I have left.”

She’s crying, and I take a moment before I speak as disappointment overtakes my wasted optimism. “There isn’t anything to fix. And this didn’t happen when I moved away, Mom. I’ve been this way my whole life.”

“I know that’s not true. God didn’t make you this way. You can’t live like this; it’s wrong.”

Hearing her voice and hearing her pain, I feel so guilty. I listen to her cry when she says, “This is a choice, Jason, and you’re choosing wrong.”

I feel the bed dip down behind me, and Mark rests his forehead against my back as I defend, “There’s no choice to make. It is what it is, Mom.”

“At least come home for a few days so we can talk about this.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Please let me try and help you. Please.”

Holding my head in my hand, I swallow hard against the disappointment and hurt building up inside of me. “I don’t need help. I need you to love me enough to accept me.” I don’t wait for her to say anything before I hang up and toss the phone on the bed. Cradling my head in my hands, Mark plants a kiss on my back through my shirt.

He doesn’t say anything, and I take my time before speaking. “She’s so upset.”

“I’m sorry.”

“She’s so upset, and it’s all my fault.” I shift to the side and lie back on the bed, draping my arm across my forehead.

Lying down next to me, Mark props himself on his side and says, “You’re not the cause of her pain.”