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For the first time he could ever remember, Damien hesitated before knocking on Mark’s door.
In all the time he’d known his friend, he’d never doubted that he would always be welcome in his home, but now… he was uncertain. What if Mark didn’t want company tonight? What if - and the thought made his chest constrict - he didn’t want Damien’s company specifically?
He was the brother of his ex-wife and the friend of his ex-wife’s new lover. On a day like this, when Mark would want to think about anything besides those two, how could Damien have thought that his presence would improve his mood?
This had been a stupid idea. Mark wouldn’t want to see him today, of course he wouldn’t. He gripped the bottle of wine he’d brought along tightly, shame twisting in his stomach. He should just leave.
He turned to step off the well-lit porch and slink back to his car, but no sooner had he put his back to the manor then the front door opened to reveal Mark’s butler Benjamin, standing at attention in the doorway.
“Master Mark has asked me to bring you inside, since you seem to be having trouble doing it yourself - his words, sir.” He glanced down at the bottle of wine and his eyes softened. “He’ll appreciate that.”
Benjamin stepped back so that Damien could enter, closing the door behind him with a quiet click of the lock. “How did Mark know I was on the porch?” Damien asked, slightly embarrassed at having been caught making a retreat.
“I alerted him to your presence,” Benjamin’s voice was as polite and professional as ever, but his tone was low and a little sad. He and Mark were close; he must be concerned over Mark just as Damien was. “I saw your car in the drive. Why were you lingering on the doorstep, if I may ask?”
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Well, I… I wasn’t sure if my company would be welcome.”
“I’m certain it will be, sir.” Benjamin ushered him up the staircase, leading him towards Mark’s room. “If Master Mark didn’t want to see you, he would’ve asked that I send you away. He’s not one to tolerate company he doesn’t care for.”
Damien laughed a little. “No, you’re right about that.”
They soon arrived at Mark’s bedroom door. Just as they stopped in front of it, Benjamin leaned in and murmured, “It’ll do him good, having his friend here.” His gloved hand squeezed Damien’s shoulder in a rare show of familiarity before he straightened up, knocked, and called out, “Sir? He’s here. Shall I send him in?”
Mark’s muffled “Go ahead” was barely audible, but Benjamin opened the door and stood aside to let him enter, closing it once he was inside to leave the two men alone.
Damien was careful not to let a pitying expression form on his face as he looked at his friend; he wasn’t himself, that was certain. His hair was untidy, his cravat was nowhere to be seen, his sheets were tangled, and his eyes were heartbreakingly dull. The poor man was a mess.
“I brought some wine,” he offered, holding the bottle out so Mark could see it from where he was lying in bed.
Slowly, Mark pulled himself into a sitting position and held out his hand. His skin seemed paler than Damien remembered. “Well, I have plenty of my own, but I’m not about to turn you down. Is it red?”
His sarcasm, however light, eased a bit of Damien’s worry. He was sad, but not completely devastated. Not like he’d been back then, after Celine had left.
He swept his eyes across the room; it was semi-neat at least, only a few pieces of clothing - and a few empty bottles - scattered around on the floor. Another good sign; Mark must have started letting Benjamin into his bedroom to clean again.
“Of course, I know you prefer it,” he said, handing the bottle over. Mark’s skin felt chilled as their fingers brushed. “I’ll go ask Benjamin for a corkscrew -”
“No need, there should be one somewhere on the table,” Mark interrupted, leaning back and examining the label on the bottle. His posture lacked his usual aloof pride and his eyes were still dull, but if Damien didn’t look too closely he could almost convince himself nothing was wrong.
Damien quickly found the corkscrew, sitting on top a pile of dusty documents on Mark’s small desk, and within moments the wine was opened and they were passing it back and forth between each other, drinking straight from the bottle like they had when they were young and their only concern was partying the nights away.
The further they got into the wine, the more Damien found himself quietly longing for those simpler times as Mark rambled on and on; first about regular, unimportant things, then eventually about Celine.
“And do you know what really is shit?” he said, the trace of a slur to his words. “I thought I was doing alright. I was managing it all, you know? As much as any man can handle something like this.” He held the bottle loosely in his hand, gesturing with it haphazardly. “It’s been a few months, I’ve been getting on with my life, but then -” He gave a joyless laugh. “Then along comes Valentine’s Day. And all I can think about is what we used to do every year for it. And about how this year she’s spending it with him. ” He squeezed the neck of the bottle so tightly his knuckles turned white, face twisting in anger and pain. “They’re spending it together, ” he spat. Bringing the wine up to his lips again, he bitterly downed the last of it, letting the bottle fall to the floor with a dull thud when he was finished.
Damien didn’t know what to say. He slowly shifted closer to Mark and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “I know today is very difficult for you,” he said quietly.. “It’s supposed to be a day of love, but instead… it’s just giving you heartache.” Mark was silent, listening, and Damien searched for the right words, the ones that would make his friend feel better, as he continued. “I want you to know that you don’t have to spend this day, or any day, alone. Maybe… maybe they’re spending this Valentine’s together, but so are we. I’m here for you.”
Mark looked at him, and it seemed like there was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before; a light that had broken through the pain and sadness and anger. It was like he was seeing Damien in a new way, or as if he had suddenly realized something.
“You are here for me,” he said. “You’re here for me on Valentine’s Day… so I won’t be alone…”
Damien nodded, giving a small, encouraging smile. “Of course, Mark. I’ll always be here if you need me. I care for you so much.”
Mark gave him a smile of his own, one that Damien hadn’t seen in a long time; a handsome, charming smile, almost like the kind he used to give Celine. He took Damien’s hand from his shoulder and held it gently, running his thumb across the back. “I need to call Benjamin. I’ll just be a moment.”
Call Benjamin? Damien blinked in surprise as Mark leaned away to reach for the telephone on his nightstand. What was he calling the butler for? To bring them up food, or more wine?
Mark dialed the number and put the receiver to his ear. Benjamin must have already been close to the house’s other phone, because it was only a few seconds before Mark said, “Benjamin, bring us up some lubricant and a towel or two, will you? Very good.”
Mark set the receiver down and turned back to him, that smile still on his lips as Damien tried to puzzle out what his friend was planning. Why had he asked the butler for towels and… had he said lubricant? He opened his mouth to ask, but before he could say a word Mark surged towards him, grabbing the front of his suit and pulling him in for an aggressive and entirely unexpected kiss.
Mark had his tongue inside his mouth in half a second, taking advantage of his shock to pin him down on the bed and straddle his hips, only breaking the kiss when Damien finally recovered his wits enough to jerk his head away, panting heavily.
“Mark!” he yelped. “What the hell - ”
“Don’t pretend, Damien,” Mark said, smirking down at him with lidded eyes. “I know why you really came here, and I’m accepting your offer wholeheartedly.”
He squirmed underneath Mark’s weight, his head spinning more from confusion and the breathless kiss than from the wine he’d drunk. “What offer? What are you doing?”
“You said it yourself, don’t you recall?” Mark ran his hands across Damien’s chest teasingly, fingers drifting up to pull the knot on his bowtie loose. “You’re here to be with me on Valentine’s day. We’re spending the day of love together.” He leaned in a bit closer, his face filling Damien’s vision as he got to work on the buttons of his suit jacket and shirt, opening them just enough for Damien’s chest to be exposed. “Bringing me wine… sharing it with me in my bed while I poured out my heart to you… you were always such a sweetheart. Though honestly, you could’ve just said you wanted to fuck.”
He pressed his mouth to the side of Damien’s neck and began to lightly suckle, sending a shiver of pleasure through Damien’s skin. He squirmed and bit his lip, bringing his hands up to push against Mark’s chest. “No, Mark, I didn’t - that’s not what I -”
A knock at the door interrupted him. “Master Mark?” Benjamin’s voice floated through the door. “I have -”
“Yes, come in,” Mark summoned, giving a parting kiss to Damien’s neck as he straightened up.
Benjamin entered and came to stand at the side of the bed, holding two fluffy hand towels and a jar that Damien couldn’t bring himself to fully look at. He didn’t seem at all perturbed by his and Mark’s position, but Damien blushed hotly and tried once again to wriggle out from under Mark.
“Shush, no need to get antsy,” Mark teased. He pinched Damien’s nipple between his thumb and forefinger, not roughly but hard enough to make him whine and blush even deeper. “We can get to it now that we have what we need. Thank you, Benjamin.”
“Benjamin, we - we don’t need all that,” he stammered. “We’re not - I mean, this isn’t -”
Mark bent down and ended his objections with a long kiss, sliding his warm palms over Damien’s bare chest. “Shy, are we?” he said when he pulled away. “There’s no need. Look, Benjamin’s already gone.”
He turned his head and saw that Mark was right; Benjamin had slipped away while Mark had distracted him, and now the towels and jar set on the nightstand were the only proof he’d been there at all.
“Mark, please,” he said. He tried once again to tell him to stop, but the words died on his lips as Mark ran a slow hand through his hair. The unabashed lust on his friend’s face made his heart race that much faster, and it wasn’t from fear or outrage.
“Mm, you’ll be saying that a lot in a few minutes,” Mark purred. He shifted backward to sit on top of Damien’s shins and began tugging forcefully at the waistband of his slacks, dragging them off his hips without even bothering to undo his belt. “You’ll make all sorts of pretty sounds for me, won’t you?”
Damien gasped as his pants were pulled down his thighs and bunched around his knees, leaving his underwear as the only thin barrier between Mark and his own gradually hardening cock. His cheeks burned as Mark eyed him eagerly, one hand tracing softly along his thigh.
“Damien,” he cooed. “I asked you a question; are you going to make some pretty sounds for me while I fuck you?”
Damien swallowed hard, feeling his dick twitch in excitement. It was impossible to ignore how his body reacted to Mark’s dominance, the way he had taken complete control in mere minutes. He should be furious, but instead there was a hot coil of arousal snaking through him, just as wicked and tempting as Mark’s hands and mouth. Why was it all such a thrill? Did he want this?
“Yes,” he answered, voice barely above a whisper. He hardly dared to breathe as Mark’s smile turned outright devilish. Immediately his underwear was yanked down and Mark’s hand was wrapped around his cock, and Damien arched into the touch immediately.
Mark chuckled. “I don’t know why you were playing coy for a minute there,” he said, easily coaxing Damien’s cock to full hardness. “Your intentions were clear; you wouldn’t have come over and plied me with wine on Valentine’s if you weren’t after my affections.” He raised an eyebrow playfully. “Are you one of those types who likes to pretend they don’t want it?”
“N-no,” Damien squeaked. He could barely focus on answering; in nearly no time at all, Mark had taken his dick from interested to aching. Precum was beginning to bead at the tip, and with a wink Mark leaned down and licked it away, pressing a kiss against the head that had Damien melting in ways he would never admit.
“Well, rest assured,” he said with a grin, sitting up and reaching for the jar on the nightstand. “There’ll be no room for pretending from here on. I promise every noise I make come from that pretty mouth of yours will be entirely genuine.”
He shifted so that he was no longer sitting on top of Damien, and then - in a shockingly fast and graceful motion, especially considering he had only one free hand - he lifted Damien’s legs up high enough for him to slip between them, leaving Damien with his knees hooked over Mark’s shoulders. His slacks and underwear were bunched up at the back of Mark’s neck, making it impossible to pull away without pulling Mark along with him. He was trapped yet again and it was far more arousing than it should have been.
He heard the lid of the jar twist open and watched as Mark coated his fingers with the lubricant inside, making them shine in the low light of the bedroom. Even though he knew it was coming, he still gasped when he felt Mark’s finger press insistently against his hole. It was inside him before he even realized, the feeling of it almost unfamiliar; it had been so long since he’d had sex that even just one finger had him breathing fast, and Mark only worked it in and out of him for a quick minute before pushing a second one inside as well.
“It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” Mark said. It was more of a statement than a question. “Maybe I should go slow, let you adjust…”
He opened his mouth to reply, but what came out was a humiliatingly loud “Oh!” as Mark suddenly pressed his fingers against his prostate.
“But I think I’d rather make you scream,” Mark smirked. He began to finger Damien quickly, stretching him open and slicking up his hole as Damien squirmed in pleasure and bit his tongue to remain silent. “Not terribly romantic, I know. But really, who could have enough restraint to be gentle with a body like yours?”
Damien made an embarrassing noise, like a half-choked whimper. No one had ever talked about his body like that before, it felt obscene.
“Fuck, I hope you’re gonna be like this the whole time,” Mark said, pulling his fingers out. “All helpless for me… it’s gorgeous.”
He only took a few seconds to coat his dick with the lube. Then he grabbed onto Damien’s thighs, and - looking straight into his eyes - began pushing inside him.
It was Damien who looked away, captivating though Mark’s heated gaze was, by tilting his head back and moaning as Mark slid his cock deep inside his ass. Christ, it felt so good; the fullness, the slight pain of being stretched apart, the hot pleasure that shot through him as Mark’s dick nudged against his prostate… he could hardly think beyond his need for more.
“Move,” he gasped. “Mark, move, please - ”
Mark gave him a downright evil grin and pulled back, only to slam back in so hard Damien’s eyes rolled back and he shouted out loud.
“Told you I’d make you scream,” Mark growled in triumph. He set a hard, fast pace, nearly folding Damien’s body in half as he fucked him. “Come on, darling, let me hear you. Let me hear how much you love it, love my cock, love me. Say it!”
“I love it!” Damien cried, gripping the bed sheets tightly as his vision nearly shook with each powerful thrust of Mark’s cock. “I love it - so good, don’t stop - ”
“I fuck you so good, don’t I,” Mark panted, reaching a hand down to grab Damien’s leaking cock and stroke it up and down at the same almost-brutal speed he was fucking Damien at. “I make you feel good, you want more, you’re gonna let me fuck you more; you’re mine and you love it, tell me you’re mine!”
Damien moaned over and over, helpless in the face of so much pleasure. He could hardly think, writhing as the dual sensations of Mark’s cock in his slick, raw hole and Mark’s hand on his stiff, aching dick pushed him toward his climax.
“Yes!” he sobbed, barely comprehending what he was agreeing to. All he could process was his own desperate need for more. “Yes, yes, oh God, Mark! Fuck, yes!”
“Mine! Forever!”
“Yes!”
With one final downward stroke to his cock, Damien yelled and arched his back as he came, making a mess on his own chest and stomach and undoubtedly getting some on his shirt as well. His entire body tensed and shook and Mark moaned, thrusting only a little longer before he too orgasmed, filling Damien’s hole with cum.
Damien, breathless and hazy, whined quietly at the feeling of Mark cumming inside him. It was so hot and wet, making his spent cock twitch ever so slightly. He whined again when Mark slipped out of him, leaving him empty and dripping.
Exhaustion settled over him like a heavy blanket; he didn’t even notice Mark had gotten out from between his legs until he felt something soft against his torso, and realized his friend was cleaning him up with one of the towels Benjamin had given them.
Such a good friend, he thought, drifting closer to sleep with each passing second. He was so dominant… forceful… It’s not what I intended but I’m glad I could make him happy tonight. We’ll be so embarrassed about this little Valentine’s fling in the morning.
With a tiny smile, Damien fell fully asleep.
Mark paused in wiping away the mess and smiled as well, eyes tracing over Damien’s peacefully-sleeping face. Gently, so as not to rouse him, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Damien’s mouth, whispering as he pulled away.
“Mine.”