Love Is Ǝvil

16 But Tonight, Curiosity Overrides Ya

He stared his phone down. His fingers held on to the pen, nervous to pick up the phone but forbidden to do so. Nicolas didn't deserve his attention and how much he thought about him. You mean, dream about him like a lovesick teenager. You write his name with a heart on the i? He was just an asshole, a sexy asshole, but still.

But still he thought about him and also, more and more he had to face the uncomfortable truth: He had broken his rules by choice, not force. That would be so easy to say. Just put the blame on someone else and he could go back to normal. But he wasn't. With Nicolas everything had felt good, the hands, the tongue, their bodies on top of each other. He wanted Nicolas to do it again. He wanted to kiss him again, to talk to him again, to break beneath his evil grin. For some reason, the memory of the powerlessness Nicolas caused thrilled him. Not to forget the memory of the cock inside his mouth. Nevertheless, Nicolas was an asshole. An asshole he liked somehow.

"Marshall?" A hand waved in front of his face. Ryan smirked in amusement. "I take that as a yes. Before you get totally lost in your daydream, you might wanna text that guy first."

"Hell no!" He shook his head determinately. "I ain't texting that son of bitch. Forget it."

"Why not?"

Marshall frowned. "I didn't ask for your help."

"I can count the fingers on your neck, that's pretty much begging for help." Ryan was visibly annoyed.

Involuntarily he put his hand on the marks his neck showed so well. It really looked mean. "I told you, I ain't doing that again. Promise."

Ryan snorted quietly. "Save it. You have a neck for getting into trouble. Quite literally. Anyway, if you really want to go this route, you need to do it right. And that is: Text the guy, that gets you all dreamy eyed, and start dating him for real. Not just hook-ups, actual dating." He passed the phone over to him.

"But he's an asshole. You said yourself, he's too intense. I ain't doing that."

Ryan thought that over for a moment. "The deaf guy from the club?"

Marshall nodded shortly.

"Then, that wasn't his girlfriend?"

Marshall shrugged. "I don't know. Didn't ask for his resume."

"Whatever. Text him, ask him out - properly", Ryan demanded.

Marshall took his phone into his hands. "Ask him out? To what? It's not like we could go to the movies or some shit. I just cause a stir and he can't hear the dialog anyway. Same goes for restaurants: I attract too much attention and he isn't a big talker anyway, or at least not with spoken language and I don't know sign language. How do you think this is supposed to work?"

"You figure that out together. He seemed to like you enough. He ordered you a fancy drink after all, that's pretty date-like already, don't you think?"

Marshall grumbled and opened the app. But he didn't type. "I can't do this."

Ryan took the phone out of his hands. "Well, then I'm gonna do it for you."

"Don't you fucking dare!" He took his phone back. "I can do this by myself, dickhead."

Ryan looked at him expectantly.

Marshall took a deep breath and stared at the blinking cursor. What should he type? He hadn't actually dated someone in ... felt like never. On top of that, the last time they had seen each other, it had ended in a fistfight. Not a good basis for dating. Boxing? The gym he went to sometimes was small, nobody yet had bothered him there. Even if, boxing wasn't an obvious dating activity. He could be out with a friend just the same. Brilliant idea! He sent: up for some exercise?