forum All Is Hell That Ends With ‘Fair’(Closed ~ One-on-One ~ Rated a possible M)

Started March 12, 2020 by @Toxic_Persephone group

tune

“I know it does but you have to challenge that. You don’t deserve the bad. You deserve the good. And that’s fact.” Marcus’s voice was hushed and soft, as if he had realized his mistake in snapping at Cyrus.

Cyrus folded his arms.
"In my head, I acknowledge that," he said, "but of course, feelings sometimes say otherwise. I um… why don't we just get something to eat? I'm hungry and exhausted, and… and I dunno, I need a break."

“Food sounds good.” He murmured, closing his eyes and sighing. “I need a break too, so let’s go get make some dinner.” He pulled away from Cyrus and sighed deeply.

Cyrus nodded in agreement and got up.
"Yeah… I'm sorry if I get all weird and irritable and pessimistic on you… I just…"
He let out a soft sigh.
He just what? There wasn't much more he could say on the matter, for he didn't quite understand himself.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Marcus replied, standing and stretching out his legs next. “I get irritable too when I’m feeling down.”

"Okay, as long as you don't think I'm like… being an ass or anything- because if I am, I'm really sorry and you should let me know. Because I'm not trying to."
Cyrus let out a long sigh.
"We've both been through a lot… and it sucks, and I… I do consider running away with you. I just. Can't. I'm too afraid to run away. I'm frozen in place."
He started towards the kitchen, still trying to sort through all of his thoughts out loud.

“You’re not an ass, Cyrus. Not to me.” He reassured, wandering after the other. He yawned into his hand, blinking away the sleep from his eyes. “I am too… I really don’t want anything to happen to you or anyone else. Especially if Marx catches us.” He murmured, shuddering at the thought.

"He's probably already got his eye on us…" Cyrus said softly, "We need a plan, and we need one soon."
Cyrus leaned up against the counter.
"I don't really feel up to cooking right now. What all do you have?"

Marcus couldn’t help but to shudder again. He didn’t want Marx to find out. If the gang leader did… Marcus wouldn’t be seen for a few weeks, locked in the basement Marc had built in his home.

Marcus hated that place. It was dark and reeked of death and sex. Not to mention the abuse that happened daily while chained to the walls or the posts put in. Marcus couldn’t take another trip down to it.
It was hell.

He slid a little closer to Cyrus as he leaned against the counter, stilling his own shaking hands. “I have a lot of instant ramen and frozen dinners.”

Cyrus took one of his hands to hold and leaned his head into the other's shoulder.
"That works for me. I can cook more later this week after we get some more fresh produce and stuff- just uh… just not tonight. Not after…"
He stopped talking and sighed.
"I hope my dad doesn't hear I'm seeing another guy…" he murmured, "No telling how pissy that would make him."

“No, I understand. Tonight’s been hard.” Marcus murmured softly, resting his head against Cyrus’s. He fell silent for a moment, biting his lip.

“Are we doing the right thing…? Is this okay for us?” He shifted nervously. “I want to be with you but I don’t want you hurt.”

Cyrus shook his head. "I'll be hurt either way. I'm just my old man's punching bag."
He sighed.
"I mean, it's my choice, right? I'm more worried about him arranging things to hurt you. But because of your position in the Silence, he wouldn't dare."
Cyrus let out a soft laugh.
"He's so adamant about his 'bloodline continuing' or whatever. And not through a daughter. What a disgusting old man."

“It is your choice.” He murmured softly, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. “It’s all so complicated. He couldn’t hurt me because of Marx’s overprotective nature especially towards me. But that doesn’t stop Marx from ‘renting’ me to your father. That’s all I’m worried about.” He murmured, his breath catching in his throat.
“You can’t continue his bloodline through me but he’s just going to have to deal with it.”

"He won't 'rent' you," Cyrus promised, "My dad's a fucking homophobe if you couldn't tell. If he really wanted that sort of thing, he would've taken it out on me or my siblings. It- it sucks, but it'll be okay."

“Thank god. I was a little worried…” he admitted, leaning more into Cyrus and sighing softly. “We’ll be okay… right? Will it really be alright? I’m not going to lie, I’m terrified right now. Marx coming here scared me.”

"I'm scared too," Cyrus admitted, "I-I… hope we'll be fine. Obviously, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure it stays that way."
Cyrus let out a breathy sigh.
"I should've held my tongue around him. But… the way he talked down on you… the way he compared me to my father… I couldn't stand it."

Marcus patted his side, where a gun was tucked safely away and out of sight. “I am too. If I have to shoot I will.”
Marcus gently wrapped his arms around Cyrus and stole him away into a warm hug. “It’s alright that he talks down on me… I’m used to it by now. But you’re not like your father. Please don’t let that get to you.”

"It's not alright, though," Cyrus said, "What a little bitch. God, I want his dying moments to be… so vulnerable. I want him to feel like he's nothing, because that's what he deserves."
He closed his eyes.
"A-and, I know I'm not. I'm not like him at all. It just strikes a nerve, of course. I would rather die than be like that old man."
Cyrus melted into Marcus' embrace.
"Thanks, love…" he murmured, his tone of voice changing drastically.

“Calm down, okay? It’s really alright.” He reached up to play with Cyrus’s hair, trying to calm him. He smiled as his hug seemed to calm his love.
“No problem. And exactly. You’re you. Not him.”

Cyrus nodded where he had his face buried in Marcus' chest.
"Mhm…" he murmured, "Are you doing okay, though? I know it must have been terrifying for you as well."

“I’m still shaken but I’ll recover. I’m sorry I gave in so easily to him. I can’t help it. He’s trained me.” Marcus murmured, rubbing soothing circles into Cyrus’s back. “I’ll be okay.”

"No, that's alright, love," Cyrus said, "I-I mean… you kept some potentially really bad things from happening, so thanks for that."
He shifted so he was standing back up.
"Alright, you wanna do microwave dinners or something?"

He nodded softly, smiling weakly as Cyrus pulled away. “Yeah, I do. I have pizza rolls I think. I love those.”

“That’s fine with me,” Cyrus said, “God, I’m just tired. And nervous.”
He kept his stance and waited for Marcus to move first.

Marcus studied Cyrus’s face softly, pulling him in for a quick kiss. After he moved away and to the freezer, where he pulled out a bag of Totinos.
“Here we are.“ he said warmly, keeping an eye on Cyrus. He was worried about the other still.
“Are you really going to be okay?”

"I- I think so," Cyrus said, giving a weak smile back, "I'm just not really feeling well… I get a lot of like… physical symptoms of anxiety so…"
He was still shaking, but it was slight. And his heart- his heart was pounding so loudly, his heartbeat was almost all he could think about, and it was most unpleasant. That was only the tip of the iceberg.

Marcus reached up to play with Cyrus’s hair, the only soothing motion he really knew.
“Why don’t you go sit down? I’ll put our dinner in and then come over. You’re shaking.” He noted, frowning deeper.

"No I'm- oh…" Cyrus held both of his hands together to stop the trembling.
When he spoke, he felt like his mouth was filled with cotton. He swallowed dryly.
"Y-yeah… I'll go do that. Thanks, love."
He pressed a quick kiss to Marcus' forehead.

Marcus’ expression relaxed into something more relieved. “Thank you. I’ll be over in a moment, alright? Make sure you rest.” He smiled softly and gently pushed on Cyrus to get him to start towards the sofa.
They could still chat while Cyrus was at the couch. The rooms were open and pretty much the same .

"Yeah, of course."
Cyrus sat down on the couch, his knees shaking.
"I don't know what's wrong with me. God."
Well, that was sort of a lie.