I Broke Down

Disclaimer: *property of eroburn. Not to
be copied or distributed or published without permission. The author is not
responsible for the reader and any thoughts, or emotional distress they may
receive after reading the work of writing. All hail aff.

Mark
can never escape. Can Joe save him? m/m, original,
abuse, Anal, Angst, Inc, Language, N/C, Tort, Oral, Yaoi.

I
Broke Down                                                                                                                            

by Eroburn

Word
Count: 3138

Chapter 13

Dude was shaking
him once again. He glanced at Dude feeling hatred. He didn't remember any of
his dream this time, but he knew it was about Dude. It
had faded away like most dreams do.

"We need to
talk." Joe said ignoring the look of disgust on Mark's face. He left the
room wanting to give Mark a few moments away from him. Joe was disgusted with
himself. Mark of course had to be disgusted with him too. He had almost taken
the boy's innocence.

Dude walked out
the room. Mark guessed Dude didn't want to be around him anymore than
necessary. Mark went to restroom and brushed his teeth again. He would never
look at a restroom the same way again. He knew that at any other time he would
be feeling very down but after cutting all he could feel was emptiness. Mark
glanced at the clock and noticed only ten minutes had passed. It seemed like a
lot longer. They still had twenty minutes before the party started. Mark went
into the living room where Dude was sitting looking nervous. Mark wondered why
Dude should be nervous. Dude wasn't the one that was going to die.

"We need to
forget anything happened and not tell anyone." Joe said trying not to look
Mark in the eye. He knew he could never forget what had happened earlier, but
he didn't want Mark to see that.

Mark stared at
him. Ten minutes ago he would have loved to hear Dude say that. Now it just
sounded so hollow and made him feel colder than he already did. He was to the
point of zombie-ness, where nothing felt real. Where
he couldn’t do anything, say anything, even feel anything. Dude just stared at
him and then sighed. Dude leaned his head into his hands. Mark couldn't even
think.

The words
‘forget anything happened’ streamed through Mark's skull. He couldn't forget
what had happened. It was one of the few times in his life he had ever been
happy. He had felt safe. He had felt wanted for once in his pathetic miserable
life. He couldn't go back to not being wanted ever again. He couldn't forget
something that had made him feel that good. Even if he died tomorrow it would
have been worth it.

Mark choked out
"I can't forget, but I won't tell anyone. Please don't tell anyone."
Mark looked at Dude and he looked ashamed. Dude really didn't want him. No one
did. He didn't expect anyone to really want him. His parents didn't want him.
He had no friends to want him and someone as hot as Dude was certainly wouldn't
want a freak like him. It was just a matter of time before his father killed
him. One too many broken ribs and he could have a collapsed lung, or a bit too
much kicking and he would bleed to death internally. It was just a matter of
time before his existence would be erased from the earth. No one would remember
a loser like him. He wasn't worth it.

"I won't
tell anyone. As if I would tell anyone I made out with a twelve year old
boy." Joe said. That was the last thing he wanted anyone to know. Not only
would he be completely ridiculed, but he'd also be in jail before the week was
over. Although it was so good it was almost worth it to him. Almost,
but not quite.

Dude said what?
Mark repeats Dude's statement over and over in his head trying to make it
English but it just wouldn't work. The only word he recognized was twelve. He
was not fucking twelve. He had not been fucking twelve in five fucking years.
But it wasn't like he was going to tell Dude that. Dude had wanted to forget
all about kissing him. Mark wasn't good enough for Dude but at least Dude
wasn't going to tell anyone what a gay little boy he was.

Mark wondered
about Dude’s mental acuity. He had clearly been at the high school when they
met. Dude had seen him there. Dude had gone through his backpack where the
papers and books were on a high school level. His brain was still looping the
same thoughts over and over. It was on level with having a computer crash. He
had never been mistaken for a kid before so the thought wasn’t quite processing.
Somewhere in the chaos that was his mind he was now able to string a few
syllables together to form words, not ideas but words that might go together.

"Whatever.
Let’s just go." Mark said. He had lost all interest in actually going to
the party. Hanging out with Susie, Shelly, Cynthia or whatever her name may
have been, sounded a whole lot better than being a tag
along. This Crystal person was probably baby-sitting
him. Mark mumbled something about getting a glass of water and grabbed the
knife he had used before. He put his hoody on and
stashed it in the big pocket. His jeans were already rubbing against his new
cuts. It was all he could do not to fade away into the pain.

Joe couldn't
feel worse about what he had done. He could tell he had hurt Mark. Whenever
Mark was sad, scared, or upset he looked blank. There was no emotion on the
kid's face. That was the only thing that gave him away, that he looked so
stoned when he wasn't. Joe hated that he had put that look on the kid’s face.
He tried not to remember what Mark had looked like pressed against the wall,
but it was a useless endeavor. Mark had such an intense erotic look. It had
been so sexy and exciting seeing Mark look at him like that. He tried to quell
the tightening in his pants. It wasn't fair to Mark and even worse he would go
to jail if anyone found out.

Mark followed
Dude to the truck. Dude wouldn't even look at him. They drove through middle
class neighborhoods to a seedier part of town. He would have been frightened,
but frankly he didn't give a shit if he died anymore. He would just laugh in
their faces and ask if they wanted him to kill his self. He couldn't wait until
Friday, the day of hatred and pain. This was but a dream and reality was
calling.

They rode in
silence to the girl’s house. Two doors down there were people milling about and
tons of cars parked along the street. Two girls walked by with clothes held up
by sheer force of will and Mark nearly heaved. He checked out any guy that was
about a six on the Mark scale of hotness and there were quite a few of those.
They walked to a seedy little house and a strawberry haired girl answered the
door. Mark stared at his shoes as they talked. Then Dude left him alone with
the evil girl clone.

Cassandra was
pretty for a female. At least she didn't feel the need to blind others with her
body. They went into a very small living room and were told to sit. Mark
listened of course. It wouldn't do to be rude to someone who knew Dude. Even if
Mark wanted to rip out her eyes, he would play nice. Plus she hadn’t actually
done anything to him yet, so he didn’t have to maim her, although it would have
been funny to see her tacky clothes without arms. Sometimes he managed to creep
himself out with his morbidness.

He didn’t blame
this Alexia person for babysitting him, or maybe he could just a little. ‘Hmm.’
No, he blamed the one that had dropped him off. Dude hadn’t even asked him if
he wanted to be left at this random domicile. Joe just left him to the evil red
haired beast. Dude would pay. He was not a kid. He shouldn’t have to be babysat
by someone who was actually younger. Mark seethed digging his nails into the
palms of his hands. He didn’t try to draw blood, because that would have just
drawn attention. He didn’t need any more of that right now. Last thing he
needed was to squirt blood all over Daphne’s living room.

"So do you
want to play a game or watch a Disney movie?" The girl-bitch said
condescendingly to Mark.

For some reason
Mark actually liked Disney. It was happy and there were always those fairy tale
endings. But he had seen them all and he wasn't five anymore.
What twelve-year-old would want to watch Disney? 'Fuck this shit'. Mark was
leaving as soon as the bitch turned her back. She pulled out some board games
and Mark managed to pull his 'leave me the fuck alone or you will lose a hand'
face. She put in a tape and said something about popcorn. She was a goddess. If
Mark were straight he would be all over her popcorn making abilities. He
decided to stay and watch the movie. It was about a green dude who didn't
bathe. He had seen it a bunch, but it was still funny.

He
munched on his popcorn. Hannah grudgingly handed over her bag as well after he
made little puppy eyes at her. It had never worked for him in the past so she
just must have been a light touch. Francine spent most of the movie texting
people, probably wishing she was at the party. After the first movie Katelyn
put on a movie about a warrior princess. She kicked ass and dressed like a guy.
It might have been a Disney movie but he wasn’t sure. It confused him because
usually movies for little kids didn’t deal with cross-dressing. The girls love
interest was pretty hot. He wasn’t very smooth and he stumbled over his words.
He reminded Mark slightly of a bumbling Adonis, whom he had remembered had left
him with Jenny, as if he needed a keeper.

His
parents never thought he needed a keeper. Maids and servants for sure, but
their duties never included him. He would have been dumbfounded if they had
ever hired a babysitter. In fact, this was his first experience with one.
Tiffany seemed like a good one. She wasn’t mean and even got him mouth watering
popcorn. She hadn’t offered to let him watch any pg-13 movies even though he
was well able to watch NC-17. Perhaps it wasn’t as annoying as he had
originally surmised.

Sometime during
the movie Mark fell asleep, most assuredly because his tummy was full of butter
goodness. He dreamed.

Dream Sequence

Brother. The one
word he wished he didn't have to say, because it wasn't true. He would say it
no more. Michaelangelo was like the Viking’s of old:
strong, bronzed, and towering over all those around him. No one even noticed
Markus. He was a weakling, pathetic and small. He was the son of a servant. The
true prince died at birth and he became the great deception to hide the Queen's
great failure.  It was a secret that was
never hidden from him, but one he never wished to know. Why couldn't he have
died instead of Michaelangelo's true brother? He
would never know the answer. He grew up as the shadow. In every way Michaelangelo was light Markus was dark. Michaelangelo had saved children from under the foot of
horses. Markus had been accused of cursing them. No, in many ways he had no
brother. Yet, Michaelangelo did not abandon him even
as Markulias cursed and prayed for Michael's death or
his destruction. Mark envied him with every breath he took until it consumed
his soul.

But Mark's
brother was not as golden as he would have liked everyone to think. No, his
brother had a secret. A few knew it, but Mark was the only one anyone would
even remotely believe. Michael would sneak out at night and meet with men,
lower class toys and do lewd acts with them in alleyways and in seedy inns.
Mark would often follow him and watch as they licked the sweat from Michael's
chest as he pounded into them. Mark couldn't help but envy those that Michael
chose to copulate with. Mark, as always, kept his silence, because a secret
isn't a secret if someone is told. In some ways Mark wanted to bring down his
pseudo father's wrath down upon Michael's head, but Mark knew he would be
denying himself the pleasure he attained from watching. Michael would never
know that Mark followed him into the belly of the city. Michael never saw as
Mark watched him.

Mark's fake
father was a great king. He might have spawned two beings but he had only one
heir. Mark was but a shadow to his golden haired brother. He was but a blemish
on a long line of strong warrior blood. Mark watched Michael one night as he
picked up another serf. Mark wondered if his brother ever visited the same one
twice, but he doubted it. There had been so many over the years that even he
had trouble of remembering them all and had given up on knowing the exact
number.

Mark followed
them to a dark part of town. Mark could at least say his brother paid them well
before he took them without mercy. It was mainly for their silence on Michael's
identity but also that they wouldn't speak of how cruel he really was. It was
rare that Michael bothered to prepare them and they paid if they weren't
experienced. Mark wondered what made Michael attracted to men, paid whores,
ones barely legal. Oh they all were, because Michael made sure of that. Mark
knew most of them just wanted food and didn't deserve the harsh treatment they
received. He wondered what it was that his brother craved, but couldn’t seem to
find in any lover. Michael was nearing thirty and thus getting older.

The
king was pushing Michael to find a future queen but he refused and made
excuses. Father was also pushing Mark, but he barely cared enough to lie. He
had no desire for the fairer sex. One of them would eventually have to cave,
and he knew it wouldn’t be him. Mark watched as his brother prepared himself,
thrusting into his hand a few times before pushing the whore against the wall.

Mark imagined
himself in their place often, but with Michael taking him with compassion
instead of disregard. The man cried as he was taken. He was very new at the
game. It wasn't often that they cried but it happened. It continued for some
time until his brother couldn't stand the sounds any longer and stopped without
finishing. Mark had been so caught up in his fantasy of being in the whore's place
that he did not see Michael notice him. Michael covered himself once more and
nary a hair was out of place. Mark's eyes caught Michael’s and Mark nearly
stumbled as he tried to get away. Michael of course was much faster than Mark
could ever hope of being, but Mark knew the city much better than Michael did.
It didn't help Mark unfortunately as Michael dived and caught him. There was no
escape from the arms locked around him. They stayed on the muddy filthy ground
breathing heavily.

Michael finally
moved and let Mark turn over, but still had a knee on either side of his hips.
Running away wasn't an option. Michael looked down into his eyes, and he must
have flinched because Michael ran one hand along his cheek as if to calm him
down, and to let Mark know that he wouldn't hurt him. Mark might have hated
him. Mark might have loathed him. Mark might even have wanted to kill him, but
Michael was still supposed to be his brother.

"Why did
you follow me?" Michael asked.

Mark couldn't
possibly tell him the truth. When he was younger it was to gather blackmail
material. Then it became something of a hobby. It was like spending time with
Michael without actually doing it. Then somehow it became something more. Mark
became obsessed. He wanted to spend all of his time watching Michael. He wanted
to be one of those men Michael was so fond of.

"I know
what you do with those whores." Mark said and smirked. He could still
blackmail Michael to the king. It didn't matter what he thought of Michael's
activities. It only mattered what Michael's father
thought. Mark knew the king wouldn't approve.

“It is my
business what I do with them. Not yours. You should just run along home and
work on finding yourself a wife, or spend time with your friends." Michael
said with a sneer.

Michael didn't
know him at all. He had no interest in a wife and no true friends to speak of.
Oh, yes he was a prince, but who would even notice him when Michaelangelo
was around?

"I have no
desire to play with my so called friends, not when it’s more entertaining to
follow you. I am sure father would think the same." Mark smirked at him
giving away nothing of his true desires. Michael still thought he was doing it
to blackmail him, or to get him into trouble, or even worse to get him
disowned. Even with the love that their father had for Michaelangelo
the king still would have disowned him. The king would have considered it an
insult to his line and thus assumed that Michael was not of his line. The king
then would have killed Michael. That was the last thing Mark wanted to happen.

Mark looked into
his brother's eyes and knew Michael had the upper hand. Michael put his forearm
onto Mark's throat and pushed down. Mark struggled and saw Michael's face. It
was one of absolute misery. Mark was running out of breath. He thought, to
himself, in the last moments before he passed out, that he would never tell a
soul about his brother. He loved Michael too much. He never did pass out.
Michael had stopped choking him. Mark heaved in great gulps of air. Michael leaned
down and hugged him. Michael was rather large and Mark was getting crushed, but
at that moment Mark didn't care. Mark meant more to his brother than him being
king someday, and his heart was filled with joy.

Michael leaned
down and kissed Mark, later giving him everything he had ever wanted. Michael
loved him, and was faithful to Mark until the end of his days. Mark had often
wondered if his life was heaven.

End of Dream Sequence

Mark woke up and
found he was in hell.

End of Chapter
13

 

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