Love Is Ǝvil

65 It Was Like Isolating Myself Was Healthy

The wooden tabletop was cool against his forehead and the cold smell of food hung in the air. A beam of light fell through the window and warmed his ear. Marshall was exhausted.

"You look like shit."

He didn't care to lift his head and scowl at Denaun, just hummed agreeing. "Better than I feel." Limbs too heavy to even sit straight, but he had forced his way out of bed regardless and had come into the studio regardless. Routine was helpful.

Chair legs scratched on the floor, a soft rumble went through the tabletop as Denaun put his arms on it. "Something up?", he asked.

"I'm fine", Marshall answered. He very much did not want to talk, his jaw hurt. Just about everything hurt and he should've stayed in bed.

"Come on", Denaun huffed disbelieving. "I got eyes, you know, and they're working fine. But you ain't."

Weakly Marshall shook his head. "You don't wanna know. Has gay sex in it, so, just leave it." Sadly, it had solo gay sex in it. Nicolas was a lot better at keeping his promises than Marshall was.

"I figured." Denaun stood up again and went to the fridge. "I don't mind, aight? I tell you about the chicks I bang, and you tell me about the guys you bang. It's only fair."

Marshall opened his eyes and leaned his head the other way to look at his friend. "Just leave it, I'm fine." His hole was always bitchy anyway, either not enough dick or too much.

Denaun put a can of Red Bull in front of him. "Just sayin', you wanna talk, let's talk."

"I don't", Marshall answered and eyed up the drink.

"Okay", Denaun accepted, still not believing. He sat back down and took a sip from his own can of Coke.

With heavy arms, Marshall took the can and opened it. He leaned back in his seat, the shift in position not welcomed by his used up hole. At least it'd been a fake dick not a real one, Marshall took that as a victory. Pussy! A fake dick can't give you what you need. Where's the cum, huh? Slut. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

Denaun stayed silent, sitting opposite from him and sipping from the can.

"I think I'm having sex wrong ...", Marshall admitted quietly. I guarantee you do, fag. First, you ain't having sex and second, you have it alone. Very wrong. Get some guys in there! Your hole can take it, I believe in you, slut.

"Gay sex ain't wrong", Denaun answered and cocked his head puzzled. "You like what you like, you said it yourself."

Marshall shook his head, "I know that." That hadn't been on his mind in forever, the sex with Nicolas and Ryan and whatever guy he came across was too much fun to worry about some silly shit like this.

"Well", Denaun stretched out the syllable, "I'm sure you'll find some balance soon. You're always overdoing shit when you find something new." He took a cookie out of the bowl that was sitting on the table, leftover Christmas cookies and fruits.

Now Marshall frowned at his friend. "What?"

A shrug. Crumbs fell onto the table. "Guess I'd do the same if I was you. I mean, now, finally after God knows how many years you actually do it with who you want to. Why not enjoy it to the fullest? Can't blame ya. Limping for a while's probably a small price to pay."

Marshall smacked a hand against his forehead. Unbelievable.

"What? I can see you limping while you're sitting down", Denaun defended himself. "How you spend your time with Nico - or Ryan or whatever's going on - ain't my business. Just sayin', it's obvious you had tons of fun. Good for you."