My Heart Goes Out To You

I know it’s been a long time since I’ve updated, but… Oh I don’t owe you an explanation… *roar* I was too busy torturing somebody, preferably Amon or Kaiba, but someone nonetheless… It’s #8, just for you readers, and review for anything.
—Sadistic XXX

Chapter VIII: Oh... The Feeling is Sexual
Epoch was that of its god to the endearing Maxwell. Time could not stand still, nor as firm as his blandly heated erection. Inside his red orbs of ecstasy, Maxwell fought that of an inward battle to Tory’s detail. Men would grovel at his feet, his loins, to spend an utmost moment in his arms, in their pants… but Tory? The boy had given him no action as of kissing and tongue…
What was it with the schoolboy that was so damn hard to accept? It was obvious this was his first homosexual relationship with another man… or was it? Could he have been hurt before advancing, and chose the opposite of a good time with him? Maxwell knew nothing of the predicament as Tory had shared anything to him of his life.
The boy was that of an unpainted façade in a faceless background and he had let him into his home, into his life, confessed his supposed love to the teenager. He got not even a nibble in return of his persistence of the boy with the duration of the month they had been ‘dating’. Wait…
At the arrival of his said boyfriend, came the creep of a wavering smirk upon his face. Hesitantly, Tory returned a bright smile all the same. It was evident that he had a heartfelt space for him… so why should he say no?
“I’ve been thinking of you, darling,” Maxwell said lowly, true intentions hidden under the lid of his eyes.
Tory couldn’t help but smile at the cool statement though he knew it was farce. “I fantasize, I mean, I-I think of you too, Maxwell.”
He stifled a chuckle at the boy’s clumsy revelation, and then looked to his eyes to clear unease. What was bothering him? Whatever it was held no significance to where he would converse. He was sure as hell of that one.
“What’s been on your mind?” Tory asked gingerly. He knew he had done something wrong, always ruining a possible good thing for anyone involved. He wasn’t beautiful, he wasn’t all that intelligent, he wasn’t old enough for Maxwell, and he wasn’t a lot of things. All the while Maxwell decided to put up with him.
It was dark as night his real motives—most likely, to screw him then move on to someone else; it was probably some bet he took on by one of his friends… but then again, Maxwell didn’t know many people to associate with. Either way, he carried neither genuine affection nor interest in him, only that of physical wonder.
“My love, it’s… What are you going to have?” Maxwell chose a swift change of topic, and Tory caught onto it… He would bring up his desires in a lusting way.
“I… I’ll have what you’re having.”
“I’d like to have you in the back of the restaurant.”
“W-What…? I—”
“Tory, it’s been… how long has it been?”
He coolly blushed at the thought of anyone listening and on such crisp demands. Was Maxwell always so… bold? Yes, he was; it was one of the things he adored about him. One of the things he chose to acknowledge. He came out of his thoughts to see the annoyance sprawled upon Maxwell’s face.
“I-I don’t… know… I—”
“That makes two of us… I don’t know about you but… You adulate my innermost affections, and it’s always happy that you make me feel. Do I make you feel the same way? Do I?” He threw him one of his best sympathetic looks.
“Yes, of course you do.”
“Then why won’t you make love to me?”
The question sounded so simple and yet it covered endless reasons of negative to Tory’s sentiment.
Why couldn’t they have sex…?
For one, they were eternities apart in age despite it being 6 years. Another was that Tory was a virgin not to Maxwell’s utmost knowledge and could only fail to please. Not to mention how Maxwell deserved so much more; in a person and a boyfriend—in everything. And there was that of Tory’s other problems…
“Maxwell, I…” He stopped short for a reasonable excuse as he would need one. “Why is it so important to you… darling?”
“Because I find it hard to retrace my mistakes and discovering I’ve fucked every one, and that I’m faltered at you… the love of my life.”
Maxwell had this conversation already figured out to his favor already. He would plead, he would compromise, he would endure, he would dearly ask, he would even beg if it came down to it. He was determined.
“I don’t understand… Don’t you think that…?’
“Think what?” Maxwell asked.
“The slightest feeling you’re exaggerating… don’t you feel it? What you’re saying—”
“Is this some kind of joke to you, Tory? Of course I don’t feel it, the only thing I feel, the only thing I want to feel is you. I love you.”
“No, you don’t.”
Maxwell was becoming frustrated beyond all possible cause by Tory’s accusations and realism. He threw no hint of falter in his jest to claim his prize of him and here Tory was, saying things in pure honest hurt. The boy was pathetically pitiful, and he would lose his mind with his games.
“Tory,” he began, counting to ten. “Where did you get the idea that I didn’t?”
“Maxwell, you… how could you ever…?”
“We’ve been dating damn well for a month and you failed to miss the impression that I love you?!”
Various head turned up at the man’s slight outburst at his younger boyfriend throwing side glances and questioning looks to one another. A few of the patrons enjoying their meal had simply sipped water to wash the entire thing clean. It was fine, just two perfectly gay men eating in the establishment arguing about love… Surprisingly, a few people left.
Maxwell inhaled a bit of air and red wine to rid him of the cool feelings of distaste and embarrassment. He wasn’t one to care of other’s judgments and sure as hell, wasn’t starting now.
“M-Maxwell…”
“Honestly, you’re being ridiculous, incessant accusations of mistrust in my direction… and you think I don’t love you? What becomes of your feelings?”
“What? Maxwell, that’s not what I—”
“Then what the hell do you mean? Are we caught in between the lines of bisexuality again, or are you blandly just trying to tell me you’ve crossed back to heterosexuality?”
“Maxwell—”
“No, you’re not listening, you’re denying. If you’re with me, you’re gay and I don’t care who the fuck tells you otherwise. Your little school counselor, you’re family… Hell, the goddamn priest. You’re a downright faggot, understand?”
“A faggot? Maxwell, please, you’re misunderstanding me…”
“And you’re patronizing me,” Maxwell retorted.
“I love you, Maxwell; I love you with all of my heart and have no doubts about my… sex type. But…” Tory fidgeted with his fingers under the table before going on. “… You have to truly love someone to let them go and pursue better things, better guys… I’m not—”
“Don’t pull that ‘you aren’t good enough for me’ degrading bullshit with me, Tory, you know I hate it. Nothing you can do or say will make me leave you intentionally.”
Silence. Minutes seemed like lifetimes passing in between the two lost within the depths of their thoughts. Maxwell sat calmly; he would get anyone despite his relationship with Tory. Troy remained sitting with welling tears in his heart for the persistence of his lover.
“Maxwell.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not going to have sex with you.”

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Alright another chapter done... FYI: The Chapter title was inspired by the song \"Sexual\" By Amber... It\'s an old CD, but the song\'s fucking off the hook than the shit playing these days. Enough about musical trivia or whatever the hell it is--go off to review.
I\'ll write nine if I get 10 more reviews: there\'s no point in writing more if no one\'s reading. Til 10, ciao.