pushbackthedarkness | [march 16]

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[march 16]

Bit by bit and session by session, Marcus's days since the exorcism are getting easier. Without question there are still bad days, ones where he wants to sink into himself and into his drawing, dirtying his hands with charcoal until he feels as if he's managed to get some of the demon out of his soul, and his therapist has suggested he let himself. As long as he doesn't get lost in it, which Marcus suspects would be impossible between Dan and Sabrina, between knowing Kat and Neil will come check on him if they don't hear from him in a few days.

They all keep him honest. It's more than he's ever had before.

What still hurts him the most is knowing he not only failed Tomas to the point where he had become utterly cavalier with his own safety, but knowing, too, that he failed Andy. The kids are safe, he takes heart in that, but he's still killed a man. Nothing will ever change that, and on a Sunday night in March, he finds himself awake long after everyone else has fallen asleep.

With the light turned low in the living room and Trass quiet near his feet, Marcus draws late into the night, and when it finally feels like he can't keep his eyes open any longer, he stumbles to bed with Trass padding along silently by his side. The big wolf settles into the oversized dog bed Marcus had purchased for him and Marcus settles in next to Dan, pressing close to the warmth of him and finally falling asleep with ease.

It's still early when he wakes again, the morning light coming in through the big bedroom windows is still weak and cool, but it isn't the sun that wakes Marcus. It's Trass, nudging his head up onto the bed, whining as he presses his nose against the side of Marcus's face. He grunts and nudges Trass away and the wolf huffs out an annoyed breath even as his tail wags like an excited dog.

"Too early," Marcus mumbles into his pillow, then turns to sling his arm across Dan's waist.

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Maybe it's the magic part of it all, or maybe they're just this good together-- Dan's pretty sure it's mostly the second and partly the first-- but not for a moment does this feel weird. Marcus tastes amazing, and Dan's more than a little blown away by the sensation of going down on a woman who's more than a one night stand or even a set of casual dates. It's like maybe he's never really done this sober, only no.

He's never done this when he's happy, and God, is he happy to apply himself, his lips and his tongue. His hands move to hold Marcus's hips, not enough to keep him still, but enough to do this how he wants to, shockingly noisy in the quiet bedroom between their breathing and moaning-- his own, too-- and the wet slide of his mouth.

They ought to at least try to be quiet, Marcus thinks briefly. He doesn't sound like himself and the last thing he wants is for Sabrina to furiously barge in, thinking Dan is in here with someone else, so he lifts one hand from Dan's hair and slaps it over his mouth, trying to dampen the desperate moans that are bubbling up from somewhere deep inside.

He has no idea what it's going to feel like to come in this body. At this point, he isn't even considering that, still half-floored by the very change and entirely lost in the new sensations he's experiencing. On a regular day he would warn Dan, give him a chance to pull back or prepare, but now he doesn't realize it's happening until it's happening.

Something inside of him seems to pull tight, but just as quickly it releases, all his muscles going slack, heat and some sort of indescribably good feelings rolling out from his cunt in a way he could have never expected. And it doesn't stop either. It just keeps coming, still washing over him, again and again.

Dan will be sure to tell him later that he knows that if Sabrina hasn't already sussed something out and crawled out her window, it's a matter of time. too big of a chance i caused it is the thought at the back of his mind.

Except he's not really thinking about any of that.

Not when he can feel Marcus coming, the tremble of his thighs and the throb of all that pink, sensitive flesh. Dan's sure to keep up, sucking gently on his clit and getting his face absolutely a mess, until the muscle contractions slow to a stop; then, he strokes very gently along Marcus's folds with the tip of his finger, trying to gauge whether he'll be too sensitive for more right away.

There is a long, long time when Marcus can't speak. He can't do much of anything, really, but hold onto Dan and ride it all out and when his body finally relaxes back onto the bed and he can feel Dan's fingers sliding along parts of a body he never imagined he would ever have, he shivers in a deep, pleased way.

"How," he finally manages, "do women ever get anything done if it feels like that?"

The grip he has in Dan's hair has relaxed and he finds himself combing his fingers through it gently, then he tilts his head on the pillow to look down at Dan from under his lashes. He's terribly beautiful, he always is, and Marcus finds the sight of him now simultaneously arousing and deeply strange. He doesn't recognize the body Dan is touching, but he can feel it and he know it's his, at least for now.

Dan has some idea of the picture he'll make, his cheek resting against Marcus's thigh, lips pink and shining, desire darkening his eyes. People have been sure to tell him he's attractive, but he's never wanted to make someone feel it until his time here.

"More self-control than us, I guess," he says, and then makes his way back up the warm, soft body beneath him, pressing his face between the swells of Marcus's breasts. "Though at this point, I'm not sure I'll get anything done if I don't fuck you soon."

He's hard and leaking between them, trying not to just rub himself off like a fucking teenager.

The very words send a thrill through him. They always have with Dan, the knowledge that he's about to be terribly intimate with a beautiful man who loves him, but there's something else in that thrill today. It burns in a different way, in a deeper part of him, some physical aspect he must not usually have and is terribly pleased he's getting to experience now.

"Then come here and fuck me," he says in a rough voice, his fingers combing through Dan's hair again.

Another time, he would have had to wait a little longer than this, but already he can feel that sense of arousal building. He wants this, this body he's in now wants it, is responding to Dan all over again within mere moments.

He'd been worried for the barest of moments that something about this would feel like he's not being-- faithful, but this woman, this is Marcus. That certainty, along with the certainty that he'd like to continue making Marcus feel that good, doesn't waver.

Dan nods, letting his mouth wander the smooth line of Marcus's jaw, down to his neck. He slides his hand between them, curling a finger, then two, into the amazing grasp of the slick heat there. "Oh, Jesus," he whispers, caught off guard. "You're so-- so wet. Think maybe I was doing this wrong before?"

But he's grinning a little, slowly pumping his fingers, as much to enjoy the situation as to figure out how much time Marcus will need to be ready.

Everything about this morning would suggest if Dan has been doing things just like this, there hadn't been a thing wrong in the world. Marcus doesn't want to think about other times, though, other women, not because he's jealous, but because this is their time now. Whatever they've had in both their pasts, it doesn't matter. Not when they're together.

But he can't say any of this. His mouth falls open, a groan slipping out of him at the feel of Dan's fingers pressing inside of him. He's had Dan inside him before, but not like this, not anything like this. Both are amazing, but in very different ways, and Marcus can feel this body making room for Dan, adjusting for him. Wanting him.

"God," he breathes, his back arching, thighs spreading. Inviting Dan in further. "Yes, Dan, I- please."

It's not something he'd go around announcing, but Dan does catch some of his clearest flashes of shine when he's got his fingers surrounding by Marcus's tight, cling heat, and this is no exception. "You're right," he whispers, thumb smudging along to find the tight bud of his clit. "There's no one else. That was another world, another life, another me."

He leans into to catch amazingly soft lips against his.

"Only you, forever and ever," he breathes, adding another finger, just enough to feel the way Marcus catches at him, and then he's pulling his hand free to like himself up. Just because he can, he takes the time to rub the head of his cock against Marcus's clit, watching his face intently.

In his state, Marcus can't work out if sex is just better for women -- when it's done right -- or if he feels like this because it's all so strange and new, but whatever the case, he knows he's in good hands. The best hands. The only ones that matter.

He still can't seem to make words. The only sounds that come from him are soft moans of pleasure that don't manage to turn into anything coherent. Not that it matters either. Marcus knows even without his talents, Dan would be able to figure exactly what he wants and how good it all feels.

A part of him thinks he ought to wait, figure out when this body is ready, but he feels ready. He feels impatient, really, especially with Dan's cock rubbing against him like this now and Marcus's fingers curl under, holding tightly to his shoulders.

Dan could listen to those little sounds all day, he thinks, dropping his face down to the curve of Marcus's neck to gently suck a mark there. Something about this, about the change and yet the familiarity, at how easy and good it is between then, because it's them, Dan nearly trembles with the force of restraining himself.

He has to make sure they can go slow, before they can go fast.

Dan groans low in his chest when he finally eases his cock inside all of that tight heat, so much wetter than he's used to, braces his arms on either side of Marcus before reaching down to steady his hips, urge his thighs further apart. "You feel so good," he gasps. "So wet."

It's such a strange thing to hear directed at him, a phrase he would have never imagined, and Marcus laughs, though the sound turns into a long, pleased moan before it really goes anywhere. This entire experience is surreal and it makes him tremble, being filled in such a way, something he knows he can't explain because it's just so different.

His thighs relax, which in turn relaxes something else inside of him, and he can feel Dan sliding deeper inside of him. It doesn't hurt exactly, but it burns pleasurably, something that's just hovering on the edge of pain. It could go either way, he knows, but not with Dan. With Dan it's only going to get better and better, because this man would never hurt him.

"Holy shit," he breathes, not knowing what else to say.

Dan's thankful for the shine in a new way, all over again, as he keeps his attention on making sure that Marcus feels good, that there's as little pain as possible. One of his hands shifts to cup Marcus's face, fingers sliding to the back of his head, thumb smoothing along the soft skin of his cheek.

He shifts, encourages Marcus to hold tighter, and then slides his other hand down between them, seeking out the swollen, pink bundle of nerves that should make this a whole lot better. Stroking the pad of his thumb just above the clit, he keeps the motion of his hips rolling and steady.

It's crazy and hot and crazy hot, but he's not going to lose himself, not before he should.

There are days when Marcus is aware of just how much he'd given up for God. How much time he'd lost in service to the Church, all the things in life he'd let himself overlook, knowing if he experienced them at all he might miss them too much to really give them up. How foolish he had been, thinking God and the Church were the same, when the God Marcus knows has only ever wanted to protect His children.

He may be a bastard sometimes, but He isn't cruel. And He wouldn't want Marcus to have gone without.

Without love, most specifically. And Marcus feels that every single day with Dan, but he feels it again here. It's different. Not stronger, but different. Dan is taking care of him, taking care with him, and all Marcus can do is hold on and gasp at the feel of Dan's fingers and his cock.

Dan would still have a pretty strong conversation with God, on Marcus's behalf. He understands that the hardness of that life had formed the man he loves, but it doesn't mean Dan approves of it, in practice. The more gratuitous nature of some of that suffering, like the memories given to Marcus so recently.

He's not really thinking about that right now, thankfully. The moment holds his attention, and he's just trying not to shoot off like a teenager.

Dan applies himself to looking for just the right angle, the right fit of his fingers against the softest, slickest skin he's ever felt. "You're so-- so perfect," he breathes, "in any form."

Most of the time, Marcus feels anything but perfect. Chosen by God, but so very far from perfect, and yet here with Dan, he feels like maybe he could be. If not in the eyes of the world, then at least in Dan's, and isn't that the only thing that matters now? That he's loved and he loves and he can feel things he'd never allowed himself before. It had been so easy to keep a distance and so much more difficult to let himself go, but now that he has, he can't imagine any other way.

"Yes," he breathes. "God, Dan, you... you feel like... I don't..."

Then he laughs, because he has no idea what he's trying to say, and all he can really do is hold onto Dan, curl his fingers under, and really hold onto him. He's going to come again, he can feel it building already.

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[march 16]

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