Chain Reaction 3.1.84: Open Up

NSFW pics towards the end

Dwight Foster

       The following morning after the night Akito tried to kill me, I decided I wanted to move in with Marco. At first, he outright refused. That hurt, but I tried to be understanding. I guess, to him, it was crazy fast, but when I say 'move in,' I mean it more like just being his roommate. I tried to find a place, and Marco convinced me to move back in with my parents. Ugh. I tried it. They drove me insane. Mom kept saying how I needed to just buy my own place, but I don't want to do that. I have an irrational fear that if I do that, I'll remain single the rest of my life. I know it doesn't make sense, but it's the truth.

     Then, Marco surprised me one afternoon when he called me and said that yeah, if I wanted to rent the spare room, he'd be okay with that. I was beaming the rest of the day. I have no idea what changed his mind. I have a few guesses, though.

     My top guess: he's lonely, for probably the same reasons I haven't bought my own place. Plum, he's like a lost puppy. I have to be careful, though, because the lost puppy bites when he feels cornered.

     I've learned so much about him. He's good at the undercover stuff because he used to be a drug addict. His entire emotional state took a nosedive when his parents died. One night, he got arrested. Long story short, he wound up being mentored by one of the officers, and that changed his life.

     As far as any relationship goes, he runs hot and cold as he fights with himself. I think I scare him, but I can't get him to admit to why other than him saying he's bad for me. To me, that means he's afraid to really feel something for someone. It's not like he's running from being gay, like I have for most of my life. He's running from any kind of emotion that sneaks below the surface.

     I'd like to think we're a couple. I'm pretty sure he has feelings for me. I just wish he'd open up and tell me.

     "What the plum is that?" I ask when I go to the kitchen. I'd heard him come home, late as usual. Having learned from experience, I gave him about twenty minutes before coming out of my room. I get Mr. Grumpy-pants if I try to engage him in conversation right when he gets home.

     "What's what? I'm going to bake some bread." Sure enough, he has a glob of dough on the counter.

     "You know that's not what I'm talking about." And he's even wearing a tank top to show it off. Is he baiting me?

 

     "What? My shorts? Yeah. I guess they're still a little new. I've worn them once or twice, though." He smirks and goes back to kneading the dough.

     "Did it hurt?" I ask. I guess I can't tell him what he can and can't do to himself.

     "If my shorts are hurting me, it's time to throw them out, don't you think? No, they're comfortable." He knows good and plum well I'm talking about the tattoo.

     "So, have you decided to become a tribal warrior or something?"

     "What? Oh, the tattoo! No, I just thought it would look cool." He puts the bread in a pan and then the pan in the oven.

 

     "You don't like it?" he asks.

     "I just fail to see the point." I guess I should really be wondering why he hasn't gotten one already.

     "Well, I don't have to get your permission if I wanna do something like this, do I? Or do I?"

     I give him a blank look. "Okay, fine, Marco. I'll see you tomorrow." I turn and head towards my room.

     "The bread'll be done in an hour!" he calls to me.

     "Whatever," I mutter. Apparently, Mercurial Marco is being like an idiot rebellious teenager today. I'm not going to feed into that, so I spend the rest of the night in my room alone.

     Of course, that means he misses me, and the next day, I get the crazily-affectionate Marco.

 

     I much prefer this Marco, but honestly, I know that whatever Marco I get, I love him.

     "Please don't think I'm crazy," I tell him as he leaves my mouth and kisses my neck.

     He chuckles happily. "Dr. Foster be crazy? Now why would I think that?" He pulls us down onto the bed, putting me on top of him, and secures a grip on my ass. Then he sits up a little and kisses me again.

 

     I'm seriously turned on, and he knows it. Plum, this is going to happen. But I want to tell him how I feel first. I fight to keep air in my lungs as I gasp out, "I love you."

      He freezes. Uh oh. I pull back and look at him.

 

     His face is red. That's good right now, right? He swallows. "That's..." He swallows again. "I mean..." I scared him.

     I quickly put my hand on his mouth. "You don't have to say it back." I kiss him just to prove it. 

     But he's not as into it as he was before, so I do whatever I can think of to try and fix this now-awkward situation, mostly using my hands.

     That works. He's really into it now, his hands moving into my shorts. The tables turned, I start up a mild panic. I'm a virgin. It's not that I don't want to, but I'm scared as plum as to what Marco will think. Maybe I shouldn't tell him at all.

     He undoes the button of my shorts. No, he needs to know.

     "Marco?"

      He moans and flips us over, silencing me by keeping my lips busy with his. When his hand moves into my boxers, he moans again, his lips moving to my neck.

     And I freak out.

     I say, probably too loudly, "I'm a virgin."

     That stops him, and he freezes once more, pulling back and looking down to me. I can't read his expression. Shock? Horror? Anger? Embarrassment? My own fuddled mind doesn't help me figure it out.

      "Oh my maker! What the f--k? This is a disaster. I'm the worst kind of guy for you."

 

     He gets up and blasts out of his room, leaving me sitting on the bed by myself. Next, I hear him storm out of the house.

     I cry to myself and slowly get up to go to my own room. He doesn't come home the rest of the afternoon, so I decide to go to bed. After almost crying myself to sleep, I finally hear him get back sometime around three a.m.

     He doesn't show his face the following morning while I get ready for work.

     This is bad.

     The next evening, it goes from bad to worse. I hear him talking to someone in the living room, so, curious, I go out into the hallway to see.

      And my heart shatters into a billion pieces.

     He other guy laughs. "Marco, you're so bad."

     Marco chuckles along with him, his hand moving up the guy's thigh.

     So he decided to bring home a hunk, just to hurt me, just to prove he could. Now he's displaying him like a plumbing trophy.

     And he hasn't even noticed me. I decide to walk into the kitchen to get a glass of milk. Something. Anything so that the other guy will notice me.

     He does, with a dramatic gasp followed by a stupid giggle.

 

     "Who's your roommate? He's cute, especially if you like the nerdy types, which I do," he tells Marco.

     "Are you trying to make me jealous?" Marco asks him in a teasing voice.

     Don't cry. It's what he wants. I open the fridge and stare at the milk carton. I bought that milk carton. It's mine. So, I take it out, open it up, and drink right from it. They're both looking at me. Good. I make an absolute mess of myself, letting the milk pour out the sides of my mouth. Then, I walk over to the sink and upend the carton, pouring the rest of it down the drain. I toss the empty carton in the direction of the trashcan. It misses. I don't care. I just leave it on the floor. Facing them now, I say, "Hi." Next, I saunter back to my room. Once the door is closed, though, I collapse into a ball on the floor.

     Now what?

 

Michael

     I hear a loud gasp near the hostess stand. Then someone whispers very loudly, "Is that him?"

     Crap. I knew we should've gone to Chez Llama. Don't get me wrong, I like that my fame is returning full force, but sometimes, I just wanna be a regular dude going to dinner with the hottie sitting across from me.

     I wanted to take Darrin to dinner tonight to kind of make up for all the weirdness lately. He needs to know that he's still the love of my life, even if Ivy has been let into our lives in a much more intimate way. We've woohooed a few times since then just the two of us so that he knows that he alone turns me on every bit as much as the kinky stuff going through my mind.

    But that crowd at the door could ruin the whole mood. He tries to hide it, but I know having people fawn over me bothers him. The last thing I need is for him to start getting jealous.

     "They found you," he says quietly into his menu. Of course he can see them; all he has to do is turn his head the slightest bit, and his unreal peripheral vision catches everything. That, and they're getting louder by the second.

     I let out a nervous 'heh' of a laugh. He's trying to hide it, but Darrin tenses up. 

     Dammit! He needs to relax! At least one thing is off his chest: he wasn't charged with murdering Drake. He won't give me the details about what happened at the inquiry other than that the other detective that was with him spoke up for him.

    Maybe going out today wasn't the best idea.

    The restaurant manager goes over to disperse the crowd, saying that if they're not interested in getting a table, they need to leave. Thankfully, no one decides to eat here.

     "Well, at least the old bird was able to scare them off." Darrin smirks as he watches me mouth a quick 'thank you' to the manager.

     I sigh. "I honestly just want to have a normal date night." The Fabercrombie and Stitch ad work is done, so now I know where I can't shop for clothes. I did get to keep a pair of jeans from the shoot, so that was nice.

     He studies me for a minute, his eyes kind of squinting. Then finally, he says, "You know, I don't think normal suits you."

 

     "And just what do you mean by that?"

     "I mean you really went wild before your injury. I just figured this was a return to that but under tighter parameters."

     "I 'went wild' because I missed the plum out of you and was desperately trying to smother that." Of course, that was also after Ivy left me, which just doubled that emotion. However, I know I've always wanted Darrin more. "Why would I still need to do that?"

    "No, you don't need to." He has a slight smile. "But it stuck with you."

    I take a breath. "Darrin, I just want you to know I love you. I don't have to have this other... stuff."

    He still smiles. Doesn't he understand how serious I'm trying to be right now? I don't want to mess everything up!

    "I know that," he replies. "And I also love you, every part about you. I want you to include me in every part, including your wilder side."

     I don't get to reply because our waiter shows up. That kind of kills the discussion I was trying to have, but I'm happy as long as Darrin insists he's happy with what happened.

     After dinner, we go to a club.

     Once at the club, however, I can't dance for more than a minute before some fan comes up. Some of them, I wonder where the plum they had a picture of me stashed so that they could pull it out for me to sign. Honestly, I didn't think I was that big a deal. I suppose my SimTuber fame has a tad to do with it since I've been making videos again.

 

     "This is a disaster," I tell Darrin. "I'm sorry." I guess the only place I'll get to really unwind outside the house is at a private party. Hugh was talking about wanting to throw another one. I'll take Darrin.

     Darrin smiles a small smile and takes my hand. "Let's go upstairs."

     Oh. I grin. Upstairs was where we were both drunk that time when I kissed him and he passed out, saying all that stuff in his fabulous dream.

 

     "This is better." I smile at him.

     "Especially compared to last time." He looks so happy. I love that.

     "So, have you ever wanted to act out that dream you had?" I watch him, getting turned on just thinking about it.

     He pauses, thinking. "No. Not really. I mean it that when I say it had a bad ending, it had a bad ending."

     "What happened?" He's never told me the ending.

     He sighs. "You started freaking out saying how you were scum because you cheated. You were so mad at me."

     I watch him, my face going worried. "Do you think what happened with Ivy was me cheating?"

     He mirrors my expression. "Do you think what I did was?"

     I ponder that. "I guess in a technical definition, it was, but I didn't care. All I could think was 'damn, that's hot.'" I think some more. "I guess because," I smile, "because I'm absolutely certain you love me."

     I kiss him, nothing like the last time, because we still need to clear the air. When I pull back, I see he's desperate to explain himself.

     "I was drunk. But it was also that I loved how the two of you passed out on me, making it seem like you both totally trusted me. I loved that. Then, Ivy woke up and acted like she wanted to get up and leave, and I didn't want her to. Then we just started staring at each other. I don't know what she was thinking, but I was remembering when I was so damn jealous of the two of you being together because I saw her as a real threat then. She's gorgeous, and I was terrified my secret dream of the two of us reuniting would never happen if she stayed. Well, you were there." He smirks. "And you know how it all played out, but that was going through my mind. Then she looked like she wanted to kiss me, and I wanted her to. I was curious for what you two had had."

     My eyes smile at him. "You didn't have to explain it to me like that, but I liked hearing it."

     "So what does this mean, Michael?" He means what does this mean for us, and for all three of us.

     But another voice prevents me from answering. "Oh my watcher! Michael Taylor!"

     Sh*t. 

      Fine. Selfie. Thanks. That's great! Yes, I know Spencer. Yes, he's downstairs. I work out every day. Sometimes twice. Stay away from sodas and anything with tons of sugar. Okay, thanks. Good luck!

      It's almost the same thing every time. At least she didn't try to get me to talk about Brent. People need to learn where public and private life divide. Leave my son alone.

      Darrin watches with a mildly amused expression. He smirks, "You just had to become a supermodel, huh?"

      I throw up my hands in a shrug. "I like the job!" But maybe things would be easier if I'd just stayed behind a computer screen.

     After this (giving up any hope of having a private conversation in such a public place), Darrin and I head down to the bar and have a drink. Or two. Five? I think I had three and he had five? Something like that. Then, we go home, having a driver take us there. Ivy greets us when we walk in, saying she just put Brent to bed, and asks us how everything went. Did I mention she was only wearing a towel? She didn't expect us in yet and wanted a glass of milk after taking a shower. I like milk. So does Darrin.

     Basically, we ambush her. She doesn't resist, the look in her eyes saying she wants it too.
 

      Plum, I love watching him and listening to Ivy. This time, we end up with me up her very tight ass and him eating and fingering her. I gladly help him hold her legs open.

 

     Then we're both f--king her. I hardly move. Me just being where I am stresses her out enough because I was the last one to do this to her, ages ago. Darrin moving her for me feels damn good, though. There really isn't enough sensation with this to finish me... but as it turns out, I don't need it. Watching my husband enjoy our Ivy turns me on to the breaking point.

     Later, Ivy goes to her room, and we go to ours.

 

     I turn to the love of my life and ask, "How are you?"

     He sighs. "Completely de-stressed."

     I softly chuckle and thread my fingers into his hair. Then I kiss him before I ask, "I want to know what you think of Ivy." He tenses, so I add, "And stop worrying about me being jealous--because I'm not." Please be honest. I need that. 

     Instead of answering, he asks, "Don't you think it's weird, Michael? I mean, even a little?"

     Dammit. I wanted an answer, not a f--king question. I shift our positions. He has to know I'm serious.

     "No, not really. Now, answer my question."

     He takes a deep breath. "Well, it's like I told you earlier. I think she's hot." Then he quickly adds, "But so are you."

     I have to work to keep from rolling my eyes. "Maker, Darrin. I'm not asking about me. You need to understand that I like how you like her. All that stress from years ago about you two hating each other, even as recently as a few months ago, that's all gone. I think some part of me wanted this all along, some kind of inner fantasy, secret from even myself."

     He watches me as I try to explain myself, and I love how I know that no matter what I say or do, he'll never stop loving me. I can see it in his eyes.

     "Well then," he says, "let me turn this around on you. How do you feel about her?"

 

     "It's not the same as when we were engaged. Her blaming me for everything hurt. Then, only to find out there was nothing to blame me for in the first place, that she'd had a wild idea just to straight up leave me, that hurt more. She kept my son from my knowledge for a year and a half. That hurts me down to the marrow of my bones." I sigh. "But at the same time, I see how badly she regrets that, and I know that if she hadn't have left me, I wouldn't have gotten back together with you. And you're the one I want to be with. But... dammit, she's still her. She's kind of nuts, and I love that. And she's easily one of the most gorgeous women I've seen. I still look at her and want to f--k her left, right, and sideways. And damn, I love watching you f--k her too." I kiss him. I don't need to be getting turned on right now. I'm trying to be serious. I'm trying to open up and get him to do the same.

    I pull back, breathing heavily and trying to focus. Dammit I want to go down on him.

    He speaks, "So you're saying that you want this to continue, that you want to open up our marriage to her, to really be a threesome, not just when we're drunk."

     I watch him carefully. He doesn't look mad, just curious.

     "How do you think she'll feel, though?" he asks.

     My lips curl into a small smile. "Well, she hasn't complained about the woohoo, we know that."

     He takes a breath, "But Mike, there's that phrase 'three's a crowd' after all. This could blow up in our faces."

      "Well, here's a shocker: I won't hold it against you if you two decide to do stuff on the side. I mean, after all, I do have all those work trips coming up." I'm going to be gone for several days at a time to different places like Sulani and Selvadorada. Then I laugh. "Yeah, I guess that does sound crazy, but it's true. I'm just that confident." I kiss him again.

     "But just her," he remarks when I pull up.

     My eyebrow raises. "Why? Was there someone else you had in mind?" Hugh's been wanting to get Darrin in the studio, and I know for a fact he's one kinky bastard. I don't know how I feel about that, and I haven't told Darrin.

     He purses his lips for a second. "No. I was just wondering how far you wanted to take this."

     "Well, we all live together, and honestly, I like it. And it's not like this is the first ever polygamous relationship in history." I take a deep breath. He may look serious right now, but he's turned on. And oh, I'd love an Ivy-flavored Darrin. I scoot down and happily start driving him out of his mind.

     Later, my head rests in his lap as he recovers.

     I love it when he looks at me like that. He tells me he also doesn't have a problem if she and I want to do anything, which does surprise me. But... "I'm not there yet," I tell him.

     "I just wanted you to know."

     "Okay."

     He's so wonderful. I must say, me freaking out in the gym bathroom that day, accidentally saying 'how do you do it?' out loud when I was still struggling with my weight... That turned out to be a very, very good thing.

     It's almost morning, and we're tired.

     Before I drift to sleep, however, I lie here and think about how happy I am. My life is damn near perfect. I have Darrin and Ivy, who are also attracted to each other. I have a son. I have a career I love. So many times, my life has come close to being ruined, and I think about the most recent times.

     Well, Drake Goth, you lose. Check. And Mate. I close my eyes happily.

----------------------------------------

A/N: So, yes, I, once again, didn't feel like writing a court-type thing, even though this would've been a kind of conference room type of deal. They didn't charge Darrin for 'murdering' Drake. It was in large part to Marco who very successfully swayed their opinion on those events.

Speaking of Marco, there will be more of him... :)