Can't you hear me knockin'? (Marcoh)

[Zeke Nayakan]

Zeke didn’t know what he was going to say when he saw Marcoh. If he saw Marcoh, rather. After talking with Michelle at the park, she agreed that he might be able to make things up to her brother. It was all on him now to fix whatever damage he had wrought, right the wrongs he had committed, and hope that all would be forgiven. Of course, Zeke wasn’t naive enough to believe that this was going to go over smoothly. Quite to the contrary, he was ready for a hard fight to win back Marcoh’s trust, or at least get him to listen to his side of things.
The fact that Marcoh meant so much to him after such a short time of their being ‘together’ was both scary and exciting at the same time. He couldn’t quite explain the range of emotions he felt each time he saw the younger boy in the halls at school. What he could explain, unfortunately, was the hollow and empty feeling he had ever since his phone call with Michelle. This brought his mind back to the task at hand, which wasn’t reminiscing; it was winning Marcoh back. In truth, Zeke was beginning to wonder if he deserved to have Marcoh back. After everything he had done, the way he’d been unable to control his reactions around Caleb… did he deserve to have someone as kind, caring, and trustworthy as Marcoh? The answer was no, but he found himself unable to live with that fact. He wanted things to work out this time, he really did, and he was willing to do anything to set them right.
This plan was set into motion as Zeke arrived on the patio area outside of Marcoh’s window. The curtains were closed, so he could only see vague shadows inside of the room. With no hint as to whether Marcoh was aware of his presence, or even in the room at all, Zeke knew that it was now or never. He took a deep breath and rapped his knuckles gently upon the glass, hoping not to alert the attention of anyone in a neighboring room. He wanted to talk with Marcoh one-on-one…

((ooc- that post was poo, but I wanted to write something so that you could start a reply! Next one will be better, I promise.))

[Marcoh Kinsley]

Marcoh lay on the floor of his room, one hand comfortably resting across his chest while the other was supporting the weight of a small paperback he'd been attempting to read. And though he would've been immersed in the book from opening the cover (it was one of the new novels his parents had bought for him in an attempt to cheer him up), he'd barely made it to page four before his mind was wandering from the words and towards... well, nothing really. Reading had started to morph from being an outlet for his imagination and personality to being an outlet to gain his imagination and personality back. Unfortunately, it really wasn't working as well in reverse.

He'd gone through all of the stages already; he'd thought about it constantly, then he told himself not to think about it, then he convinced himself it didn't matter, then he broke down and admitted to himself that it did matter, then he overthought it, and cried until he reached the point where it became simple in his own mind. Zeke just wasn't into him, and there wasn't much he could do about it. Whether or not it was a prank or lie, he didn't much care anymore - all Marcoh wanted to do was heal. No matter how hard it would be to watch him walk through the hallways, how much it would ache to see possibly kiss someone else (again), Marcoh had to focus on the fact that Zeke would eventually graduate, and so would he, and they would part further their separate ways until he found someone he could come out to and be with. Someday, he would be loved.

Those were the thoughts he'd been half-heartedly content with when he heard the knock on his window.

The first thought that sounded in his mind was that it was a burglar - not because he was a newfound pessimist, but he'd always had a little bit of paranoia for these things, being somewhat of a Law and Order junkie. The light once beaming from his book lamp was now yellow and dim, casting a harsh shadow on his surroundings, which lead to only more instinctual fear.

"Oh god, oh god, the burglar is testing to see if anyone's home he's using the back window so he isn't seen if I don't do anything he's gonna break in and see me here and then to make sure I don't report him he'll shoot me and then go kill anyone who comes up to see what the noise was oh god oh god I'm gonna die..."

But it was two raps and then silence, like someone had knocked... for attention? He swore right then and there if it was Michelle trying to freak him out, he would end her, right there and then.

Curiousity got the best of him, as he set aside his morbidly paranoid thoughts and sat up silently, peering over the top of his comforter toward the window, subconsciously trying to keep himself from being seen. After all, maybe it was just a determined Jehovah's witness - though that thought frightened him almost as much as his previous explanation.

He saw a figure, which automatically made his heart skip a beat, but it was just barely light enough outside to make the shadow defined enough for him to realize it wasn't threatening. If it had been, he rationalized, the guy would've been right ready to crack through the glass with something, or at least have started to take off the screen. No, it was someone standing there, just looking, almost waiting. Had Michelle locked herself out? No, she was downstairs... it wasn't his parents since they were watching Colbert in their room - the faint sounds of Threat Down rang quietly through the settled household - so, who was it?

Slowly, but certainly not steadily (his nerves were a jumble at this point), he stood up and kneeled one knee on the bed, reaching a hand out to separate the blinds and get a glimpse of his burglar/killer/Jehovah's witness.

And lord, was he startled to find that it was, in fact, none of the above, but the boy he'd just begun getting over.

Reacting without thinking, Marcoh pulled away from the window as the blood began rushing to his face. It was Zeke, it was Zeke, good god, it was Zeke! What did he want? Was he going to break up with him officially? Marcoh couldn't take it, just couldn't.... break up with him at school, it didn't matter - everyone knew he was a loser anyway, but to have a one-on-one conversation on why he wasn't enough for him... no, it couldn't be done. He couldn't do it.

Placing a hand over his heart, as if the clammy touch of his palm would soothe the throbbing like a ice-pack to a sore, Marcoh was torn. While the majority of his mind proclaimed that it would be best to ignore the knock, to shut Zeke out for good, to prevent his heart from breaking again, one fact that he'd chose to ignore suddenly sprang to light from the depth of his subconscious and served as opposition to his sound reasoning.

He'd fallen in love with Zeke.

He wasn't sure when it had happened exactly - obviously before he'd caught Zeke cheating, or he wouldn't have been so emotionally wrecked - but sure enough, between the kisses and the talks and the dance and the winks and the whole damn combination of it all... he'd become attached to Zeke. More so than he had to anyone in his life. It didn't matter that perhaps his "love" developed from an absence of social interaction or that it was too unfounded, or that it was just too short of a time to fall in love with someone. All Marcoh knew was that Zeke made him happy. He truly had. And while the past days hadn't been the best, he compared that time to all of the time they spent together and in sheer strength, even the darkest moments he'd encountered, laying sobbing on the floor from the verbal abuse he had pounded himself with, all of the happy memories outshone them fiercely. Almost uncomparably so.

The unrationality he'd developed during the previous weeks was probably responsible for his return to the window. He kneeled once again on the bed, took a deep breath, and grabbed the blinds' cord, one slow, but firm tug exposing more and more of his boyfriend until they were face to face. Marcoh couldn't keep the eye contact too long, however, and distracted his gaze with the task of unlocking and opening the window, until there was nothing separating the two except for the worn screen. He needed that at least, in case he lost his nerve - something to keep him from facing any finality of the situation.

Marcoh slowly allowed his eyes to meet Zeke's once again, dark brown eyes shining softly in dusk's light - not with tears, but with a mustered strength he'd compiled during the time he spent waiting for this moment.

"Hi."

[Zeke Nayakan]

Zeke had knocked on the glass, hearing the noise reverberate slightly in the silence of the night. The only sounds that followed were the minor rustling of the leaves in a nearby tree and an echo of a dog barking a few blocks to his left. He wasn’t comforted by this silence, knowing that it didn’t signify that Marcoh wasn’t in his room – the only thing it meant was that his knock was being ignored. As a matter of fact, Michelle had guaranteed him that Marcoh would be home, if not holed away in his room like the hermit he had so recently become. Zeke was sure that if he waited a little bit longer, maybe tried again in a moment or two…

But then a sudden movement caught his eye, and Zeke’s attention focused back in on the window he had recently rapped upon. From the other side of the glass there was a shadow, then a hand brushing away the blinds. For a split second he caught sight of the face he had grown to care about, that kind and caring face, whose features he had etched into his brain which brought with them feelings of compassion, longing, and, if he may be so bold, even love. But just as quickly as he caught a glimpse of those familiar orbs was their gaze broken by the blinds, which were let go of and left to hang carelessly swaying too and fro in front of him.

There was a pause – more of a long break, actually – during which Zeke was convinced that Marcoh would not return to open the shades again. He waited there, the seconds seeming to drag on for hours as he hoped to be given a chance to speak; a chance to explain himself. Surely Marcoh could find it in his heart to allow him that small privilege?

The seconds passed, and Zeke was completely unaware of whatever thoughts may have been running through his own mind. All he remembered was the waiting, knowing that his fate rested solely in the younger boy’s hands. Whatever he ended up choosing, both now and after Zeke had bared his soul, would determine how their future would end up.

And then, slowly, the shades were drawn away from the middle. This meant that Marcoh must be on the other end, systematically taking away the barrier between the two of them. He could see half of his face first, followed by his body, and then the rest of his face, as the blinds were pulled back to expose his room just on the other side of the window. Marcoh busied himself with opening the window, careful not to hold the eye contact which Zeke was trying too hard to create between the two of them. He felt that if Marcoh could just see the pain in his eyes, know the hurt and sorrow and remorse which he felt, that maybe he could forgive him. He also knew that this was a lot to ask, but found himself hoping against reason that things might still work out for the two of them.

With just the thin screen between them (if Zeke looked closely he could make out the small squares of mesh against Marcoh’s beige cheeks) Zeke knew that this was as close as he was going to get… for now. With any luck he would convince Marcoh to let him in, or to come out… this felt like he was trying to communicate through a drive-through window or something! But it was better than nothing, and certainly better than he deserved.

“Hi.”

Finally, eye contact was made, and the look on Marcoh’s face seemed rather confident… almost defiant? So this was it, Zeke thought. He knew that Marcoh had taken things pretty hard, but he hadn’t realized that the younger boy could have resolved to break away from him completely, a vibe that he was definitely getting from the other side of the screen. Still, he came here to fix things, or at least tell his side of the story. And that was exactly what he intended on doing.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft with hesitation. Zeke had practiced in his head the right words to say to win Marcoh back, but now that he was face to face with him everything seemed to leave his mind and all he could do was open and close his mouth a few times, like a fish helplessly gasping for air outside of the water.

“Listen, I’m just going to come right out and say it… I know you saw Caleb and me kissing.”

There was something about saying those words, about getting the whole problem out in the open from the start, which made Zeke feel that he had at least accomplished that much. He didn’t want to beat around the bush for a few minutes, trying to pretend like nothing was wrong.

“And I’m really, truly, from the bottom of my heart sorry,” Zeke added, in case his tone didn’t say as much. “I never meant for that to happen, it was all so sudden, and you know the kicker? He’s completely pissed at me. Because he went away to Europe, and while he was gone I got a boyfriend and didn’t consult him first.”

Zeke wasn’t sure if bringing their relationship into this so soon was a good idea, but it was part of the explanation and so it couldn’t be helped.

((ooc- okay, so I keep meaning to bring this post to a proper close, but I have so much stuff due that I just keep putting it off, so… yeah. I’m posting what I have, since it’s better than nothing and enough to go off of, I s’pose.))

[Marcoh Kinsley]

“Listen, I’m just going to come right out and say it… I know you saw Caleb and me kissing.”

The blunt statement caused Marcoh's resolve to waiver; his eyes dropped a notch and he made to scratch an itch on his arm that didn't exist. He knew the subject had to come up again, but he wished dearly that it didn't have to and had tried his best to erase the image from his mind - Caleb's hand fisted in Zeke's dark hair, the latter boy's arms coming to encircle the other's torso... it would've been a pleasant scene to witness, really, had it not been for the fact that Marcoh was the one Zeke was supposed to be kissing.

"Yeah," Marcoh croaked, knotting his brow as he tried to suppress the image once again, mussing and flattening his hair anxiously, "I did."


“And I’m really, truly, from the bottom of my heart sorry... I never meant for that to happen, it was all so sudden, and you know the kicker? He’s completely pissed at me. Because he went away to Europe, and while he was gone I got a boyfriend and didn’t consult him first.”

Marcoh really wasn't sure how to react to Zeke's story. Was he supposed to feel bad for Zeke and his distraught relationship? If so, well... sympathy was one of the furthest emotions from what he was feeling. Pissed friend or not, Zeke had made out with him, and while he'd apologized, it wasn't really what he wanted to hear.

Clearing his throat and crossing his arms, Marcoh's eyes darted up to meet Zeke's for the moment. It wasn't just about the kissing - though that had been the initial cause of their whole downward spiral. No, it was the train of thoughts and suspicions that followed, and the simple questions of whether or not Zeke really liked him, whether or not he wanted to pursue a relationship... whether or not Marcoh was enough for him.

"Are you," he found himself saying, without getting a rational hold on his thoughts, "really sorry? If this... this apology is... something you feel you have to do, don't. I don't want it, and you can take it with you, save it for someone else."

[Zeke Nayakan]

Afraid that his straight-forwardness would make Marcoh hate him more, Zeke couldn't help but wait in anticipation after his words. Would Marcoh just get angry at him and shut the window again? Or would he wait and hear him out. All he wanted was a chance, just enough time to explain himself and maybe, possibly get Marcoh to understand that he was sorry. At least he wanted to end things on good terms, if worse came to worse and Marcoh wouldn't take him back. Zeke hated to think that everything he felt, his entire heart, was in the hands of a sophomore he had just met a few weeks ago. It was crazy.

"Yeah, "I did."

Marcoh was playing with his hair. Was he nervous? And if so, was it because he was confused? Or was it because he didn't want to tell Zeke that he hated him and that he never wanted to see him again? He wished that he could read minds... or even read faces. He just wanted to know where he stood.

"Are you, really sorry? If this... this apology is... something you feel you have to do, don't. I don't want it, and you can take it with you, save it for someone else."

Zeke was so taken aback by Marcoh's harsh words that he actually took a physical step backwards, as though the words had assaulted him. He was completely surprised by this because, from what he knew about Marcoh, he had always been quieter, more likely to beat around the bush or stutter or fumble over his words. But this statement was strong and clear. Zeke couldn't help but feel a little pleased that Marcoh was standing up for himself, despite the fact that he was the bad guy that needed to be defended from.

Needless to say, the pain that Marcoh's accusation caused was evident in Zeke's eyes. He blinked once or twice to get the clouds from his mind. He knew that every word he said had to be just the right thing, or else he was done for.

"I didn't... I'd never... Marcoh, I -" The words were there in his head, but he just couldn't get them out the right way. Marcoh had him completely flustered, which was not something he was used to. Zeke wasn't sure exactly how to recover from something like this.

"Yes... yes, Marcoh, of course I'm really sorry! If I wasn't, then I wouldn't have come here. I would have left you a message, or just avoided you. Kissing Caleb was a mistake. It was a HUGE mistake, and I know that it was unforgivable. I just need to know if there's some way I can make things right again. I know I can promise it'll never happen again, and I can say sorry a million more times, but no matter how much I mean it you have ever right not to believe me. I just need to know if there is anything, anything that I can do..."

Zeke was trying very hard to keep his speech under control. The longer he spoke the faster his words got, and the higher his voice got. He didn't want to come across as desperate, but he recognized a good thing when he saw one. What he had with Marcoh was the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time, and he was desperately afraid that he'd thrown it all away.

"Can you even look at me without being disgusted?"

Even if Marcoh wanted to dump him over what had happened, he just wanted to know that he wasn't completely revolting. It was a fair question, and Zeke just wanted to know where he stood. As he spoke those words there was a slight gleam to his eyes, and his bottom lip quivered just enough to be noticeable. Things had fallen apart so quickly that he really didn't know what was going to happen, and even though he had broken down in front of Michelle he didn't want to do that here. Marcoh would just think it was an act or something. No, he had to suck it up and get what he deserved. Zeke braced himself for whatever Marcoh would say next.

[Marcoh Kinsley]

"I didn't... I'd never... Marcoh, I -"

Marcoh saw the immediately hurt reaction in Zeke's eyes and had to look away, feeling a sudden sense of shame for causing it. He had a right to be angry, the logical part of his mind declared, he should be mad as hell and should not take it anymore. There should've been a simmering rage in his stomach and a fire in his eyes, but the closest thing he was feeling to those things was queasiness in his stomach that wasn't entirely from skipping out on dinner earlier that night.

"Yes... yes, Marcoh, of course I'm really sorry! If I wasn't, then I wouldn't have come here. I would have left you a message, or just avoided you. Kissing Caleb was a mistake. It was a HUGE mistake, and I know that it was unforgivable. I just need to know if there's some way I can make things right again. I know I can promise it'll never happen again, and I can say sorry a million more times, but no matter how much I mean it you have ever right not to believe me. I just need to know if there is anything, anything that I can do..."

Marcoh listened to the apologetic rant, flushing as he heard Zeke become increasingly flustered and upset. It was nearly unsettling how passionate he was; Marcoh had never known anything like it before. The only time in his life he'd seen such ardor was in movies, and the let-down that was reality and its superficial 'love' - a facade, a name for the need of companionship - made him cynical in believing anything deeper than the phrase 'i love you', a phrase so recycled and reused that it seemed to have little meaning at all. And while his time with Zeke had made those thoughts seem so assumed and unsubstantiated, the time without him validated them further.

But... if Zeke was true in his apology... if he really did want to try to take their relationship somewhere...

"Can you even look at me without being disgusted?"

Marcoh did look up, answering Zeke's question with a look not radiating disgust, but a cautious strength that then mirrored in his voice.

"Could I ever be enough for you?"

[Zeke Nayakan]

As Marcoh looked away Zeke felt a glimmer of hope begin to flutter around his mind. Of course Marcoh had every right to be angry, to accuse him and to make him feel like a horrible person. He was a horrible person for doing what he did and then having the nerve to come to Marcoh's house and beg for his forgiveness. Zeke was willing to admit that after everything he had put the younger boy though he probably had no right to be standing on his balcony like this. And at the same time... at the same time, Marcoh seemed to feel bad for hurting Zeke's feelings so badly with his accusations. And that regret was enough to give Zeke the tiny droplet of hope that he needed to believe he might have a chance to get Marcoh back. A chance he arguably didn't deserve but wanted none the less.

As Marcoh's head lifted, angled to meet his own eyes again, Zeke found relief course through his entire being at a look that was not disgust at all. He couldn't place it, but it wasn't disgust, and that was enough for him. Until Marcoh spoke, however, leaving Zeke almost speechless once again.

"Could I ever be enough for you?"

He knew it was coming. He knew that it was only a matter of time before the question cropped up, rearing its ugly head. After all, Zeke had cheated on Marcoh. Why shouldn't Marcoh wonder if he was enough for Zeke? What was to say that Zeke wouldn't go off and do this to him again later? Zeke did not hesitate before responding. He didn’t want Marcoh to get the impression that he was trying to make up a story or think of a good line to feed him. If there was one thing Zeke wanted, it was to assure Marcoh that everything he said came straight from his heart. As clichéd as it may be he meant every single word and he hoped that if that sincerity showed… well, it was all that he had left to offer. Honesty was the only way to deal with what he’d done.

“Marcoh, you’re everything I could have asked for in a boyfriend. You’re intelligent, you’re funny, and you’re shy at all the right times. You aren’t afraid to just be you and I think that anyone would be foolish to give you up or pass you by. I think that kissing Caleb was the biggest mistake I have ever made in my entire life – and trust me, I’ve made some pretty huge mistakes. I never meant to make you doubt me, or doubt yourself. Of course you’re enough for me, Marcoh. You’re all I’ve ever wanted and then some. If there is a question to be raised here it should be ‘do I still deserve to have someone as amazing as you’. And if you decide that I don’t – that you don’t want to take me back-” at this point Zeke’s voice broke off for a moment. He didn’t want to think about the possibility of Marcoh turning him away, but he knew that it was all to likely at this point. He’d really fucked things up. With a steadying breath Zeke finished. “Then I’ll only have myself to blame.”

He knew that his thoughts were rambling and incoherent but he didn’t have the time to straighten them. The best he could do was say what he was thinking, say what he really meant, and hope that Marcoh was willing to give him another chance. He had seen so many relationships end over senseless cheating, but he had also seen many survive over the years. Again, there was that tiny glimmer of hope floating just out of his reach.

“I know I hurt you. I know that what I did can never be undone. But I want to make it up to you the best that I can. I want to have the chance to prove that it was a mistake and that it will never, ever happen again. I just need to know if you can trust me enough to give me a second chance, or if you never want to see me again. Because I did a crappy thing to you, Marcoh, and if never seeing me again is really what you want then I just want to make you happy. Whatever is best for you, Marcoh. That’s what I want for us.”

Zeke knew that this wasn’t about him anymore. It was never about him. This was about the hurt he created, the pain he had placed on the younger boy and the doubt he had caused. He had some small amount of sway over Marcoh and in one brief moment of confusion he had ruined everything. Now he just wanted to make things right again, and while he wished that involved him getting another chance with Marcoh he knew that if it didn’t then it was his burden to bear.

((ooc- so I’m a little out of the swing of things. Sorry of that caused any physical pain to read. ^_^ I just missed them so much, I felt the need to post something! <3 ))

[Marcoh Kinsley]

“Marcoh, you’re everything I could have asked for in a boyfriend. You’re intelligent, you’re funny, and you’re shy at all the right times. You aren’t afraid to just be you and I think that anyone would be foolish to give you up or pass you by. I think that kissing Caleb was the biggest mistake I have ever made in my entire life – and trust me, I’ve made some pretty huge mistakes. I never meant to make you doubt me, or doubt yourself. Of course you’re enough for me, Marcoh. You’re all I’ve ever wanted and then some. If there is a question to be raised here it should be ‘do I still deserve to have someone as amazing as you’. And if you decide that I don’t – that you don’t want to take me back-”


Flattery had always made Marcoh blush; he unintentionally smiled a hint, and then looked away, surpressing his 'aw-shucks' instinct. The corners of his mouth were tugged downward in a deliberate fashion and he recrossed his arms with a determined bluntness. It was an attempt, not subconsciously so, to keep the words away, to prevent himself from opening up to them. The amount of faith he had put in Zeke's words and actions had turned around and hurt him in a tremendous way; putting himself in the position to feel that way again was a dangerous move, one that he wanted to avoid.

But he did hear the apology in Zeke's words, the desperation, and it made him teary eyed to hear the regret. Marcoh couldn't help but ponder for a moment how he had found himself being asked to take someone back, to forgive someone. It had never really happened before, not on such a grand scale, as no one ever wanted anything from him. Now, however-


“Then I’ll only have myself to blame.”


-Marcoh felt totally in control-


“I know I hurt you. I know that what I did can never be undone. But I want to make it up to you the best that I can. I want to have the chance to prove that it was a mistake and that it will never, ever happen again. I just need to know if you can trust me enough to give me a second chance, or if you never want to see me again. Because I did a crappy thing to you, Marcoh, and if never seeing me again is really what you want then I just want to make you happy. Whatever is best for you, Marcoh. That’s what I want for us."


-and he wasn't sure if that was where he wanted to be.

Marcoh glanced up at Zeke and let his eyes fall down the boy's exterior, narrowing as he contemplated his words. It drove him crazy, the hero who wanted to take all of the burdens on his own shoulders in order to keep everyone else happy. That tended to happen a lot in the sci-fi he read, characters dying out of martyrdom, whether it be to save the crew or to provide a distraction. Good intentions or not, their death hurt others, and often tugged at Marcoh's heartstrings. And while it was at least rational to sacrifice oneself for the greater good, there was no one to be saved, no one's life at risk in Zeke and Marcoh's relationship.

What was best for him was what Zeke wanted? No, no, no.

"Things don't work like that, Zeke." he found himself saying out loud, suddenly staring Zeke in the eyes so he would know how deeply he meant it, "Not in this situation. I mean, you're saying that you... that... that you want me, but will let me go if it's what I want?"

Finding the words was difficult, and he grasped his own hands anxiously, as if actually grasping for the words.

"I know you want to make this better. But I don't want you to make me decide what you will... or won't do about it. It's like I could break everything on a whim, like you're putting your happiness behind my own, and that's not what a relationship is. At least, that's not one I want."

What was he saying? He'd stopped thinking about his words and was just orating what his heart was feeling, and Marcoh couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.

"We should both be happy. We should both get what we want."

He placed a hand against the screen separating the two of them, and slowly swept his eyes from his splayed fingers to the boy behind them. Marcoh's heart began to race.

"If you want me... show me. Prove it to me. Prove to me... that you want me."

[Zeke Nayakan]

Zeke was paying careful attention to every minute movement Marcoh made. Body language could give a lot away about what a person was really thinking or feeling, things that they were unwilling to vocalize. He caught the .3 seconds of smile that had flickered across Marcoh’s features before being replaced with a forced frown. Damnit. Not that he thought that he could get out of things quite so easily, but still, it had been nice to see that little speck of hope flicker, even if it was gone just as quickly.

Zeke was completely putting himself out there. He had messed up. He had fucked things up big time, and he knew that there was nothing he could ever do or say that could erase that. And the only thing he could think of to atone for what he had done was to give everything over to Marcoh. It was the most he could possibly give, the best he could offer. Now all there was left for him to do was stand there and wait to see if it would be enough.

"Things don't work like that, Zeke. Not in this situation. I mean, you're saying that you... that... that you want me, but will let me go if it's what I want? I know you want to make this better. But I don't want you to make me decide what you will... or won't do about it. It's like I could break everything on a whim, like you're putting your happiness behind my own, and that's not what a relationship is. At least, that's not one I want."

These words hit Zeke hard. What was Marcoh saying? Was he implying that he did want a relationship still, after all of this? Or was he saying that this wasn’t a relationship he wanted to be in any more. His words could be taken either way, though Zeke’s mind immediately turned to the optimistic version. He knew that his offer had been extreme and desperate, but it had been the only thing he could think of to show Marcoh that he really meant it, that he would do anything to make this work again. And it was obviously not enough.

And just when Zeke thought that all hope was gone, there was that one action that changed everything. Marcoh put his hand back up against the screen. Without thinking Zeke raised his own hand up to the screen, able to feel the head of his flesh through the coolness of the old metal.

"If you want me... show me. Prove it to me. Prove to me... that you want me."

Show me. Words weren’t going to cut it any longer, if they had even done anything in the first place. His eyes turned to the door that was also on the balcony and without pausing to think his plan through Zeke was testing the handle. It was open. He turned to the door that would logically be Marcoh’s, given the location of his window on the balcony to where the door had taken him, and didn’t even test the lock. Who locked the door to their room when they were sitting in their own house with just their family home?

And there he was, face to face with Marcoh Kinsley. Face to face with the boy he had unintentionally hurt more than he could ever imagine. He kept walking until he was within arm’s reach of him, knowing that if their positions had been reversed he wouldn’t have been surprised if the urge to deliver a good punch would’ve arose. ((I KNOW THE END OF THIS PARAGRAPH STOPPED MAKING SENSE)).

Zeke went right through arm’s reach until he was standing so close to Marcoh he could feel his breath. And then he leaned down and kissed him, wrapping one arm around his midsection and placing his other hand on Marcoh’s shoulder. He didn’t want to pull the younger boy into him in case Marcoh wanted to back away. He wanted to give him that option. But Marcoh had asked him to show him that he wanted him, and that was exactly what he was doing.

The emotion expressed behind the kiss wasn’t desperation, but there was a longing, a need. He wanted Marcoh, and he wanted their relationship to work. This was the best thing he had going for him in a long while, and he couldn’t believe he had almost lost it completely. If this was his one chance to win him back, to prove he still wanted him, then he wasn’t going to hold anything back.

[Marcoh Kinsley]

[ It's not that good, but I needed to do SOMETHING.]


There was a slight pause that hung between them, and in that moment Marcoh wondered if should regret what he'd said. Who was he to demand anything from Zeke? He recalled laying on the floor of the janitor's closet a mere month ago, looking up at an angel, Zeke, light spilling from the fluorescents behind him. Meeting him at Borders, making a fool of himself over and over again, barely offering any response to Zeke's sincere inqueries - and now he was demanding apologies and pleas from him? After accusing him of being insincere in his apology, he was asking him to prove his feelings? Marcoh suddenly found him wishing he could take back what he said, as if Zeke might refuse and -

But suddenly Zeke was gone, and Marcoh pressed his face to the screen of his window, craning his neck to see where he had gone, catching Zeke's back as he stalked toward- oh goodness. He barely had enough time to realize what Zeke was doing - entering his house apparently, coming to him - when the door to his room swung open, and he faced the boy he both loved and dreaded. The ache in his heart reannounced itself at his presence, stinging with each pulse, but he didn't have enough time to dwell on the circumstance of their reunion before Zeke marched right through the imaginary walls he had spent the past days building around himself and touched him, fingertips shocking life into Marcoh's static limbs.

He felt the longing and desire in Zeke's lips, felt it in the grasp of his hands and the pull of his arm around his waist. Marcoh submitted to the possessiveness of the touch, willingly pressing against the taller boy's chest and kissed him back cautiously, trembling in his constraint. If he could only hold onto that coolness he had adopted earlier... but it slipped through his fingers as he slipped into Zeke's arms. His strength abandoned him in the desire to hear that everything was going to be okay, and he broke their kiss before it turned into something he wasn't strong enough to pull away from.

"Is this what you want?" he asked quietly, voice raw and broken as he looked glassy-eyed into Zeke's dark stare, reservations evaporating. He was searching those eyes for reassurance - he couldn't get enough of it. Marcoh had always had doubts about himself, from his struggle with his sexual orientation to his lack of social abilities to his future, and Zeke's brief tryst had made him more aware of those doubts.

"I... I want you so much... I want you to be with me, to be mine..." his voice cracked timidly, his throat reluctantly allowing the words to escape, to bare his soul. Marcoh blinked back tears that were already falling down his face, and he buried his head in the crook of Zeke's neck. It was an involuntary reaction, but the courage he had mustered fled in the face of his own honesty. He didn't like putting himself out there; similar to a child who tugs at his mother's skirt as he hides. Despite wanting to be open and honest about himself and his sexuality, Marcoh was remarkably hesitant to admit how much he liked Zeke.

He didn't want to scare him.

But he needed to know he hadn't been wrong in his happiness; that Zeke wanted him as much as Marcoh did him. Their relationship had suddenly been splintered and he wanted it to be right as rain again, but didn't want their happiness to suffer because of it. He wanted the constant lightness in his chest, not the feeling he was somehow trapping Zeke in a relationship he didn't want to be in.

"But..." he managed after a moment, "If you want him... tell me now, please... I can't do this again. If you have the slightest doubt..."

Marcoh bit his lip then, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, frustration, consternation - for all emotions he was feeling and the ones he was preparing to feel.

[Zeke Nayakan]

((half of this was written WAY TOO LATE at night. The rest I have no excuse for. :-p ))

Zeke had no idea what to expect. Marcoh had asked for proof, though, and when words weren’t nearly enough, conveying his emotions through these actions was the only alternative he could think of. After all, there were only so many times he could say he was sorry. Only so many ways he could tell Marcoh he really loved him, despite his mistakes. That he was human, and to err was to be human, and all of that poetic bullshit. Because in reality, he had been stupid. And he had been caught up, and he had made a tragic mistake. And if he could take it all back he would, but he couldn’t, and so this is what he was left with. And if Marcoh couldn’t forgive him that, if he couldn’t see the sorrow and the regret, then he had nobody to blame but himself.

Now he had to show him. Now he had to prove it by letting the love and the regret and the guilt fill his entire being and come through him, through the kiss he gave, through the touch and embrace. Let his repentance show in his eyes, the love in the desire behind his frantic lips, and the fear that it still might not be enough in the slight tremor in his reaching grasps. Marcoh reacted by returning his kiss, welcoming it, even. And the small glimmer of hope began to shine again. He could tell how right it felt for the both of them to be there, together, in that moment.

But Zeke knew that just because it was there for one person didn’t mean it had to be present for both. And he knew that sometimes someone could just get caught up in a moment, in a gesture, and forget themselves. Marcoh couldn’t just be reacting, but not meaning to respond to Zeke’s touch like this. Zeke knew because that is exactly what had happened to him with Caleb. He had wanted to comfort his best friend, and when Caleb had kissed him he didn’t know how else to react other than immediate submission, to return that contact that he obviously needed. Was that all Marcoh was doing? Placating him before turning him away?

And then Marcoh pulled away. And for a moment Zeke thought he had loast it all. He saw the closet at school where they’d first met, the formal, the bookstore, every memory they had between the two of them, gone. Everything was slipping away from him. And in the moment he thought he lost Marcoh he knew exactly how much the younger boy meant to him. And he knew that he couldn’t lose something that great. Not again. It’d kill him. Sure he had felt it before, deep down he’d known, but it hadn’t been this certain, this 100% unmistakable, until just then. And now he was afraid that this monumental truth had hit him moments too late.

"Is this what you want? I... I want you so much... I want you to be with me, to be mine... "

Zeke could barely stand to have Marcoh pull back from his embrace to speak those words, and yet he knew that they needed to talk. They needed to understand, to agree on where they stood. And as Marcoh began speaking, finally spitting out everything he was thinking, everything that was bothering him, he started to cry. Zeke saw the first tear break, fall down his face, dripping off his chin as others began to follow. And then Marcoh was burying his head in Zeke’s shoulder.

“It’s all right,” Zeke reassured him, bringing one arm up to comb through his hair, rubbing his scalp a little, while the other hugged Marcoh around the waste. “Take all the time you need.” Zeke knew that after everything he had done, everything they had been through, it was the very least he could do to let Marcoh take all the time in the world to say whatever it was he wanted or needed to say.

"But... If you want him... tell me now, please... I can't do this again. If you have the slightest doubt..."

“I don’t. Marcoh, you have to believe that I don’t. I can’t… I know there isn’t any way to make you believe me. But I’ve never been so sure of anything in my entire life. When Caleb kissed me… when I didn’t push him away immediately, that was a mistake. That was a horrible, terrible mistake. And if I could take it all back I would. But I can’t. It happened, and I’m sorry.” Zeke paused there, placing a hand on each of Marcoh’s shoulders, squeezing them slightly. “I’m. So. Sorry. There is no doubt. I want to be with you, Marcoh. I want to be with you… to be yours.”

Zeke heard that repeating someone’s words back to them showed that you were really listening, that you really cared, and he would’ve repeated everything Marcoh had said to him back verbatim if he knew it would make him believe Zeke’s level of commitment to him. This was what it was all going to come down to. He had shattered Marcoh’s confidence in their relationship, and in him, and it came down to whether or not he would be given a second chance, a chance he wasn’t sure he deserved but desperately wanted.

((okay, it got pretty bad at the end so I just stopped... I had stuff I wanted to say, but it wouldn't come out right, so we'll see what happens with just this much!))