*
Author's Note: Hello again, readers! This isn't in quite the same style as 'What Happens in Vegas'. It happens to be at least partly based in reality, and is in no small part cathartic for me to write. As always, I love CONSTRUCTIVE criticism and feedback, respond to all emails, and take requests from registered users. This is straight up M/F, largely romantic in nature, and is a slow burn story. The sex comes at the end ;) If my stories aren't your cup of tea, no hard feelings. Just put the cup down and leave. Enjoy!*
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Mark was pissed off. There weren't many
good
days as a shoe salesman, but January was the worst. He hadn't made a cent in commission, and his hourly rate barely covered his bills.
Another week of Ramen
, he thought to himself as he pulled into his driveway, the pervasive rain of Washington beating a steady drumbeat on the roof of his car.
As he trudged into his house to prepare his rather sad meal, he got a text that instinctively made him smile.
*Hey, Tux. Anti-Valentine's day party? We could go see Deadpool.*
It was Kira, one of Mark's closest friends. She had a knack for cheering Mark up, even without meaning to. He smiled at her use of his nickname, affectionately given in college when he had had to dress up for orchestra at least once a week. He had started as 'the guy in the tux', and it evolved over time into just 'Tux.' As always, he was quick to reply to her.
*I'd love to. What theater?*
*How about the one by the freeway? It's small, but actually has really nice seats.*
*Sounds good. 2ish?*
*Sure. Bring whiskey.*
Mark smiled again. Kira was as much of a lush as he was, and drunken movie outings were a favorite pastime of theirs. She really did know him pretty well. A close friend that he could confide in and be comfortable around.
Mark sometimes really,
really
wished he wasn't in love with her.
---------
Mark got to the theater early to save seats, surreptitiously adding a few mini bottles of Jameson to his Coke. He didn't have long to wait before Kira plopped down in the seat next to him. Even in the semi-darkness of the theater, Mark couldn't help but look at her. Kira was, by any measurement, a beautiful woman. Her long, dirty blonde hair framed her hazel eyes perfectly; her smile was always radiant, dimples showing whenever she flashed her pearly whites. As if her face wasn't beautiful enough, Kira had a pair of the most magnificent breasts Mark had ever seen. It had been on a trip up to his family's cabin that Kira had gotten absurdly drunk and flashed him as a joke, and Mark had been trying to get another glimpse of them ever since. The lights dimmed, and her features faded into the darkness as the movie began.
Deadpool was fantastic, a breath of fresh air in a superhero genre that was rapidly growing stale. Mark and Kira continued to drink through the movie, and were so impressed with the reclining leather seats that they decided to grab some food and go back for another movie. Zoolander 2 was decidedly less impressive, but they had both drank enough by that point that they didn't care. Mark always loved the time he got to spend with Kira, even if it wasn't what he really wanted from her. But their friendship was important to him, a vital part of his life that he couldn't bring himself to risk by telling her how he really felt. Even if he had the courage, Mark was almost as afraid of Kira being afraid of him.
Mark was a large man, standing just over 6'3" with a powerfully built frame. His size made him seem imposing and intimidating to those that didn't know him, even if he was really just a big teddy bear. All the same, his size and strength made him very careful. Mark frequently referred to himself as Lenny, referencing "Of Mice and Men." It was a joke that usually went over well, even if Mark was only half kidding. It took a great deal to upset him, to truly make him angry, but when he was riled, Mark's fury was a terrifying sight indeed. The last time he had truly been angry, he'd walked in on some guy trying to sexually assault one of his dearest friends. Mark had snapped, flashed red, and beaten the man so badly he was hospital-bound for a month.
As the movie ended and the lights came back on, Mark risked one more glimpse at her entrancing visage before Kira could notice. As they stepped outside, Kira hugged him warmly, reminding him of their impending trip up the lake at the end of the month. Mark held her close for just a fraction of a second longer than he probably should have, and then forced himself to let go, fingers tingling from the contact. Outwardly, he smiled and said he was looking forward to it, while his brain screamed at him to just mount her right there in the parking lot. They waved goodbye and parted ways for the day.
----
Planning for lake trips was always a little bit of a challenge, with everyone's busy schedules often conflicting. Blissfully, there were no issues this time, although Kira's friend Katy got a little bit peeved about having to stop multiple times for things that had been forgotten.
Mark had made it up first, Kira close behind. As always, the first thing Mark did was crack a beer, walk down to the lake, and pour half of it out in the fire pit. He was sitting on one of the logs that served as a bench when he heard Kira approach from behind. She sat down and looked at Mark quizzically.
"You know, I've been up here with you probably a dozen times, and I don't think I've ever asked you why you do that."
Mark winced. Kira knew the story of his former fiancé, Dana. Mark had proposed toward the end of college, and Dana had said yes. Mark's overabundant joy had been short-lived, however. Three weeks after Dana had said 'Yes', and they were walking home from date night, a drunk driver had swerved to avoid sideswiping a car, hopped the curb, and hit Dana before swerving back onto the road and driving off into the night. She died before the ambulance could make it there, gasping out her last breath in Mark's arms.
"I proposed to her here."
Kira knew who 'her' was, and she could see the pain pass through Mark's face. She reached out and squeezed his hand gently before hugging him from the side.
"I'm sorry, sweetie."
"It's alright. It's been five years now. It stills hurts, but I can usually deal with it. Sometimes when I'm up here...it's just hard."
Kira gave his shoulder an extra squeeze, and both parties were spared from talking more about the painful subject with the arrival of the other guests. By that point, it was pretty late, and everyone had had to work that day, so it was agreed that the shenanigans and drinking would begin early the next morning.
By noon on Saturday, the five people up there had consumed almost a dozen bottles of champagne, and only 4 bottles of orange juice. In other words, the mimosas were strong. No one was feeling any pain as the group went through round after round of Cards Against Humanity. Mark had invited his friend Mike, and Katy had brought her friend Steve. They drank and laughed together late into the night, then moved into the sitting room with the TV to wind down and relax. That's when the trouble started. Steve had seemed to hit it off with Kira, who wasted no time sitting next to him on the couch. This would have been bad enough, but Steve seemed to take great pleasure in antagonizing Mark. Nothing obvious, just little one-liners, quips after Mark would say something, but over the course of the night it began to wear on Mark. To make matters worse, Kira was laughing right along with him.
Mark could feel the beginnings of anger seeping into the corners of his consciousness, bubbling up like a volcano ready to erupt.
Don't let her see you like this.
Mark excused himself, grabbing a bottle of Jameson as he retreated to the safety of the master bedroom. He stewed in his anger as he heard laughter continuing to come from the sitting room. He took a long pull of the Jameson straight from the bottle, took a deep breath, and then had another. He had thought someone would at least notice he was missing, or come check on him, or text him and wonder what was up, but no one did. Not Katy, Not Kira, not even Mike. Mark kept taking pulls out of the bottle until the alcohol took hold, drawing him down into a dreamless sleep.
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