Mark blinked, unsure he'd heard right. "Wait… are you joking?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His brows furrowed in disbelief. "You want to sleep here? With me?"
For the past three years, David had never once shared a roof with him—not like this. Not under such vulnerable circumstances.
But David only smiled, calm and sure. "No joke. I'm serious."
Before Mark could fully process that, David kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed with practiced ease. "Relax," he said, reclining back on the pillow. "I already showered. I'm clean enough to lie on your bed, don't worry."
Mark stood still, a mix of surprise and confusion washing over him. Unsure of how to react, he slowly turned and walked over to the wardrobe. He pulled out an extra duvet, a pillow, and a blanket—intent on making himself a place to sleep on the floor.
David watched silently, then sat up. "What are you doing?"
Mark hesitated, his hands gripping the spare bedding. "I'm setting up the floor... I figured I'd sleep there tonight."
David raised an eyebrow. "What happened to the bed?"
"Nothing," Mark replied quickly.
David's voice was calm, but there was a slight edge of amusement. "Is it because you don't want your body touching mine?"
Mark didn't respond, but his silence spoke volumes.
David gave him a knowing smile. "Come here. Sleep on the bed. With me."
Mark looked at him, uncertain. Are you sure you want me to? "Of course I do."
Still holding the pillow, Mark hesitated only a second longer before dropping everything in a quiet rush and practically running to the bed. He climbed in on the far side, keeping a wide distance between them. The bed was large enough for two people to lie down and never touch, but David noticed the gap instantly.
"Come closer," he murmured.
Mark turned his head. "Why are you being… different tonight?"
David's voice was soft but firm. "What, you don't like it?"
"I do," Mark answered honestly. "It's just… weird. Unexpected."
"Then let me hold you," David said. "Just a hug. Nothing more."
Mark's heart stammered, but he nodded, a smile ghosting across his lips. "Okay."
David slid an arm around him from behind, pulling him gently into his chest. The warmth, the scent of him, the safety—it was all overwhelming. For a moment, they simply breathed together.
But soon, Mark's thoughts started to drift. He couldn't help the way his body shifted slightly, his back brushing against David in a slow, deliberate motion. A quiet test. A silent invitation.
David's voice came low, close to his ear. "Mark… stop."
Mark stilled.
"Don't take advantage of this moment," David said gently. "I just wanted to hold you tonight. That's all."
The tension broke, not with shame, but something softer—understanding.
Mark whispered, "Okay," and settled back into the curve of David's body. This time, he let the quiet fill the space between them and simply let himself be held.
The warmth of David's embrace softened the chill that had wrapped itself around Mark. Slowly, tension drained from his body, replaced by a sense of safety he hadn't felt in years. Cradled in David's arms, he finally drifted off, the sound of the rain tapping gently on the windows lulling him into sleep.
But peace didn't last.
Middle of the night, David stirred to soft sounds. At first, he thought it was the storm, but then he heard it.
"Mom… I'm sorry. I'm sorry… forgive me…"
David's eyes snapped open. Mark's voice trembled in his sleep, his body twitching with unease, his breaths uneven. Tears slipped down his cheeks.
David was stunned. In all their years of knowing each other, he had never seen this side of Mark. Usually, if David ever checked on him late at night, he would leave before Mark stirred. But now, seeing him like this—fragile, breaking—David couldn't look away.
"Mark…" he whispered gently, his arms tightening. "Mark… wake up."
Mark's body jerked in a small spasm, caught between dream and reality.
David held him closer, brushing a hand softly through his hair. "Hey… It's okay. I'm here. You're safe."
The moment stretched, heavy with emotion, until finally, Mark's eyes fluttered open. He blinked up at David, confused, vulnerable. And then, without thinking, without waiting, Mark leaned in and kissed him.
It was soft at first, tentative. But David didn't pull away.
Their lips met again, deeper this time. Heat surged between them, unspoken tension finally breaking. Mark's hands trembled slightly as he reached to undo the buttons of his pajama shirt, breathing shallowly and quickly. He looked at David, waiting, hoping he would also do the same.
But David remained still.
"Are you still refusing me… even now?" Mark asked, his voice quiet and unsure.
David cupped his cheek, eyes dark with intensity. "You want this. I can see that. But I need to ask—are you sure?"
Mark nodded, his desperation shining through. "I am."
"I'm not asking because I want to stop," David said, his voice dropping. "I just want you to understand what you're asking for. I don't know how to do this softly. I go hard, rough. I won't hold back."
Mark swallowed, the weight of David's words sinking in. His heart pounded, but his gaze didn't waver. "I can handle it," he said, voice trembling but firm.
David stared at him for a long moment, as if searching for any sign of hesitation.
"Okay," he murmured at last. "But if at any moment it's too much… you can tell me to stop. Understand?"
Can I ask you a question? Yes, "Have you had sex before?"
Mark tensed but nodded. "Yeah," he said, too quickly.
David tilted his head, studying him. "How many guys?" Mark hesitated. "Four."
A beat of silence passed. David's eyes didn't leave his. "And were you the top or the bottom?"
Mark blinked, confused. "What does that mean?"
David smirked faintly, almost amused. "It means—were you the one in control, or the one giving in?"
"Oh." Mark shifted awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. "I guess… both."
He couldn't look at David as he said it, and deep down, he knew the lie hung heavily in the space between them. The truth was far more vulnerable: Mark had never been with anyone. Never kissed anyone the way he had kissed David. Never touched or been touched. But pride, nerves, fear—he couldn't bring himself to say it. Not when David was looking at him like that.
David's smile deepened, sharp and knowing. He didn't call him out on the lie. "I'm always the top," he said, voice dropping slightly. "Never been the other way around."
Mark glanced at him, his heart racing.
"You said you've done both," David continued. "So, which one would you prefer tonight?"
Mark swallowed hard. He couldn't answer. Every word caught in his throat, tangled with fear and desire.
David leaned closer, his tone soft but firm. "It's alright. You don't have to say it."
Mark still said nothing. He didn't need to. His silence was answer enough.
"You'll be the bottom," David said gently, but with a promise in his voice. "Don't worry. I know I can be rough—but for you, I'll be both. Rough… and careful."
Mark's breath caught as David reached out, brushing his fingers down his arm in a slow, grounding gesture. For a moment, the air between them shimmered—thick with heat, hesitation, and something unspoken.
Something real.
The night was long.