Lips Lickin' Lolli's For Money • Joshler One-Shot Stories

Kissed By Trouble

Tyler woke up, a groan escaping his lips as he moved out of his bed, making his way to his bathroom, only a few steps away. He did his usual of wiping at his face and putting on some basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He walked out, thoughts going straight to the kitchen for a coffee he desperately needed.

He didn't like them, but the gross taste of it sitting on his tongue made him wake up and desperately want to brush his teeth and go on for the rest of the day. But before he could reach the kitchen he backtracked back to his bathroom and took in the sight.

Dark purple and pink marks scattered and bruised around his neck. He gasped once again, his mind could only think. He raised his shirt up, gasping at the more amount of hickeys that bruised his body, fingerprints that laid at his hip. He turned around lifting his shirt, and there they were, scratch marks, lining down his back.

He let out uneven breath after the other, moving his shirt back down and fingers instantly going to his hair. He went to his room, no one was in the sheets, but they were crumpled up on the other side that he didn't sleep on. He shook his head, going straight for the kitchen, but not finding anyone there.

Tyler gulped, most people would say they had one too many and regretted it if they bought someone home with them. But all Tyler could recall from the day before was that he came home from work, got in his apartment, sat back with some popcorn and watched movies. And then went to bed.

He doesn't remember where he got the hickies, his ass was sore, and someone had to have been in bed with him because the other side was where he laid his laptop to watch some videos. But this isn't the first time it's happened, and that's what was making Tyler go insane. He's counted it.

When it started happening, it happened every couple of months. And that went on for six months and before there was this long stretch of two years that nothing happened. Tyler thought it was over, but it came back, and more fierce, it happened every time his marks disappeared. When the last bruise, the last scratch mark became just mere memories, Tyler dreaded falling asleep.

It became every two weeks.

The bags under his eyes were starting to get purple, he almost wanted to stop taking good care of himself to keep whatever it was away, but he hadn't the lack of hygiene and the layer of dirtiness that he couldn't stand the smell of, especially when he could smell it after coming home from a day of work. But he didn't know which he'd rather want, the scatter of hickies or dirt from not showering for too long.

Tyler went to the calendar on his refrigerator, he grabbed the red pen from on top and made the 'x' over the day, marking another night of unknown happenings. He couldn't stop the shudder from looking at the calendar as he was reaching the last few days of November, it was coming close to his birthday.

Nothing much happened, just friends and family, calling him every half hour, giving him that happy birthday, probably sing the song. They all say that his presents will be mailed since he didn't want to come home, or didn't plan it. He tells them he doesn't want presents mainly because he will stuff them somewhere and they'll ask about it and he'll lie and say it's great.

Tyler huffed out, coffee in one hand and remote in the other, he hated feeling stupid about something that was probably intimate. He didn't like how he couldn't recall what was probably a good or bad night. What if it was a bad night? What if he did what he always does, delve the bad memory deep in his mind where it couldn't be reawakened.

Of course not, baby, a deep voice practically whispered into Tyler's ear making him shoot up from his spot and look around the room. There was no one around, his lips shaking as he honestly felt like he was going crazy. He stopped it by biting down on it, looking around with scared eyes. You might wanna stop doing that.