Let me be...

Your broken promise

"Leo asked me about you, Mark. . . again." A tall, pale man says after breathing heavily.

The red-haired man's muscles tense, but that doesn't stop him from continuing massaging the other's back.

"What did you tell him?"

"That you had found a new job."

Mark lets out a chuckle, "You know I haven't."

"Yet. You promised to stop though."

"I know."

"Have you?"

The guest gets no response, which makes him lift himself up with his elbows and look at his friend from the corner of his eyes.

"Luke, I-" Mark starts, but is soon cut off by the other male's sigh.

"You know what? Do whatever the hell you want, Mark. Just stop hurting yourself like this."

"I'm not hurting myself."

"If you say so."

The host keeps doing his job.

Mark Terell and Luke Patterson have been friends since high school. They both attended the same college, but Mark ended up dropping off a year before their graduation. Luke never agreed with the lifestyle Mark chose, yet he doesn't complain. In the end, he knows they're both mature enough to make their own decisions. Besides, he isn't proud of his own achievements himself.

"Thanks man." The brown-eyed man says, stretching his arms. "I really think you should open a massaging center or some s**t like that."

"I don't think people would like to spend their money in a relaxing massage nowadays." Mark responds nonchalantly, washing his hands in the sink, removing the cream slowly with hot water.

"I do." Luke affirms with a smile. "Working for Leo Seward isn't the best thing in the world." He later complains, buttoning his white shirt.

Mark flinches in the moment he hears that name, but soon brushes off his thoughts by shaking his head and drying his hands with a towel.

"How is Sarah doing?"

The pale, tall man purses his lips together while fixing his blue tie on the mirror behind the wooden door.

"She is good, thanks."

"And Jonathan?" Mark insists, keeping the picture of the seven-year-old perfect in his mind.

"Great! He is finally making friends at school." Luke replies, this time with a genuine smile.

"I'm happy to hear that." He says with a grin, turning the stereo off and unplugging it.

"Well, thank you again." Luke says, handing him his payment.

Mark furrows his eyebrows as he counts the money.

"This is more than I asked for, man."

His friend lets out a small chuckle before putting his coat back on.

"I just want you to stop it. There will always be more jobs. I know it's hard, but give it a try, experience new things that doesn't involve sucking someone else's dick."

Mark smirks, hope showing in his eyes.

"I'll try my best, Luke."

The other man smiles forcefully and pats his back a couple of times.

"I'm just a phone call away if you need me." Patterson reassures, stepping out in the cold afternoon.

Mark nods and waves at him before going back to his empty house.

The phone that rests on the kitchen's counter goes off a couple of times, its ringing echoing in the room. 

Mark is supposed to get ready for a meeting with a client, but he has not been in the mood to do so.

The man isn't quite worth the money.

Plus, the message he has just read gives him a better excuse to let him down.

"Can we meet in an hour?

Same place.

I'm Corey, by the way."

-Unknown

A frown replaces the smile that had formed on his face as he wonders why his heart started beating faster after reading that message.

"It must have been because of the small run I had to make from the front door", he mutters unconvincingly.

A simple blink and a head shake are enough to put those lies aside and bring himself up to type back an answer.

"Sure, angel."

-Dark

That cheesy, mainstream nickname; Dark hasn't used it in a while.

He calls all his clients differently, according to their features or actions during s*x.

"Angel", on the other hand, has only been acquired by the men who looked weak in appearance when they first met.

Corey, of course, ignores that. And that might be the reason why his heart skips a beat as his eyes look straight to his phone's screen in surprise.

The Irish man didn't expect a response, let alone a quick one.

That small hint of happiness doesn't last long, nonetheless. He can't help but feel the anxiety creep up to the back of his neck.

His stomach growls for the tenth time in the last hour.

He hasn't eaten nor slept very well since his last encounter with Dark a couple of weeks ago.

A quick meal will do for now, but he can only hope the bags under his eyes remain unspotted. It's not like he's going out on a date anyways and that, deep inside, hurts him more than he'd like to accept.

Half an hour has passed, and Corey is already driving in the empty streets, readying himself for whatever feeling awaits him at that hotel.

Regret?

Emptiness?

Excitement?

Anxiety?

Never wondering that he'd find a mixture of all and a stomach tied in knots.

The two men meet at the exact same bedroom. But both of them know that the actions will be different this time.

Dark and Corey, they do want to leave. However, one drags the other until their bodies collide and, instead of running away, they crash dangerously over and over again.

If the Irish man had enough money this time, Dark didn't know.

All he could think of is that he had gotten to make Corey feel something. And that itself has also built up a feeling he couldn't identify inside him.

There is no need to talk. The dirty sounds that get to escape their lips every once in a while, are enough to drive them both to the edge.

Their naked chests lifting uncontrollably up and down as Dark bites Corey's earlobe.

His fingers soon sliding inside him, gaining a growl in exchange.

They knew then, with no sign of doubt, that they could never keep the promise they had previously made.

They are each other's drug.

The way Corey's skinny fingers touch his tan body reassures Dark that he has indeed made a mistake.

Luke was right. The thought of it only causes him to be rougher with his client, but the green haired man doesn't mind at all. Instead, he leans into the other's nails, marking the sin and pleasure on his back.

The youngest, on the other hand, tries to push back the look of disappointment that he will find in the mirror once he gets back home.

Corey promised himself he wouldn't do this again.

But what's the point of promising something if you're never tempted to break it?