Stepping Out in Faith - 2. Chapter 2

This place is big—that was the first thought that crossed Andy’s mind when he stepped inside Marcus’ apartment. Well, it was New York-big, Andy corrected himself, which meant it was shoebox-sized when compared to the rest of the country, but it was certainly larger than Andy’s own place.

Marcus lived in a studio apartment on the border between Chelsea and Hell’s Kitchen. It was just large enough not to feel claustrophobic, with two wide windows overlooking the bustling street below. Andy guessed they would let in a good amount of light during the day. A gallery kitchen sat along one wall, and a corner near the windows held an easel surrounded by canvases.

But Andy’s eyes were drawn immediately to the large bed that sat against the far wall. It was pristinely made with crisp white sheets, and it called to him, beckoning him to lie back and surrender to the desires that had plagued him his entire life.

Andy tore his eyes away from the bed and swallowed thickly. This didn’t feel real; none of this felt real. It felt like something had taken over his body, some invisible force that propelled him into that bar, onto that dance floor, and now back to Marcus’ apartment without Andy’s consent. What was he doing here? He had no right to be here. He had no right doing any of the things he had done that night. And yet, he had done them.

And enjoyed them. He enjoyed them so much, it scared him.

His heart pounded, and his mouth felt dry. He knew why Marcus brought him back to the apartment; Andy wasn’t that much of a prude. And while going home with someone had definitely not been his intention when he left his apartment earlier that evening, Andy couldn’t deny that he wanted this.

He wanted it so much, it scared him.

He had had plenty of opportunities to back out: when Marcus touched him on the dance floor; when they stood on the sidewalk waving down a cab; when they got out of the cab down in front of Marcus’ building. But Andy hadn’t backed out even if that would have been the prudent thing to do, the obedient thing to do.

Andy knew why he didn’t back out. The reason lingered in his subconscious, strong enough to pop out at times to taunt him and then disappear back into the recesses of his mind. But it was always there, just under the surface. It was that curiosity, an itch he desperately wanted to scratch, the thorn in his side he needed to appease so he could go back to the simple life he always longed for.

Something drummed through Andy’s veins. It was fear. He recognized it easily. Andy was scared—scared of what he had already done that night, scared of what lay ahead and how much he wanted it. Scared that tonight would change him in fundamental and irreversible ways. The reality of what he was about to do dawned on him. Was he crazy? He couldn’t do this. What was he thinking?

He turned to leave and saw Marcus standing by a bar cart, pouring drinks. Tall and slim, tight black jeans and tight black t-shirt, his hair a riot of black curls that fell over his forehead and into his eyes in that sexy, I-just-woke-up kind of way. Marcus was everything Andy was not: confident, edgy, and oozing sexuality.

Andy swallowed thickly. Yes, he was scared, but if he was honest with himself, more than anything else he was afraid of going through life never having experienced this: the touch of skin, the hardness of muscles, the heat of a body against his own.

He needed this, Andy realized. He needed to know what it felt like, needed just one night to store in the back of his mind, just one memory to put his sacrifices into context, to justify the choices he had made. Yes, he needed this, and he wasn’t going to back out.

Marcus turned from the bar cart with two glasses of amber liquid. His dark eyes, framed by thick lashes, smoldered with such intensity that Andy forgot to breathe.

“Here, you should drink this.” Marcus handed Andy a glass, which he tossed back without question.

The liquid burned and settled into a roiling heat in the pit of his stomach. Andy looked up to see an amused grin on Marcus’ face and couldn’t help but return the smile. Liquid courage, that’s what they called it, right?

“That’s one way to drink it.” Marcus laughed. The rumbling baritone voice washed over Andy’s frayed nerves.

Marcus set their glasses down on the coffee table and held out his hand. Andy looked at the long, tapered fingers and the smattering of hair on their backs. Smudges of something—bits of black and bits of color—were caught under his neatly trimmed nails. It looked like a hand of an artist. Sexy, Andy realized, surprised at himself with the thought.

Marcus had held his hand during the entire cab ride back to the apartment. It had felt weird holding a man’s hand, and Andy had been tempted to let go several times. But each time, as if he could read Andy’s mind, Marcus squeezed tightly, and Andy felt strangely reassured.

“Coming?” Marcus asked.

Marcus’ eyes danced with amusement, reminding Andy of his own inexperience. But instead of feeling offended, Andy felt lighter, as if everything was going to be okay because Marcus was there.

He placed his hand inside of Marcus’ and felt the strength of those fingers, the way they held his own in a firm grip, solid and grounded. They made Andy feel safe. He didn’t understand how that worked, but he liked feeling safe.

He let himself be led to the bed and faced Marcus, separated by a mere inch of heavy air. He took a deep breath and got a lungful of lingering sweat from the Hell’s Kitchen bar and the spiciness of cinnamon.

The heat in his stomach grew and sent tendrils of fire across his body. Hot. Everything was hot; his hand was warm where Marcus still held it, his skin overheated in such close proximity to the sexy man. Andy’s tongue snaked out to wet dry lips, and he noticed Marcus’ eyes following the movement. The intimacy of the look made Andy’s breath hitch. Everything was hot.

In slow motion, Andy watched Marcus lean in for a kiss, and he braced himself for the contact. This time, though, the touch of the other man’s lips on his own wasn’t as shocking and hungry as it was the first time around. This time was slower and gentler but still sent shudders through Andy’s body. The scent of Marcus was all around him; it enveloped him and ignited his senses until Andy was sure he would spontaneously combust.

Andy wanted to know what Marcus tasted like; he needed to know, thinking it would help quench the fire engulfing his body. He snuck his tongue out and licked experimentally until Marcus opened for him. Andy was wrong; Marcus’ taste didn’t quench the fire, it only added fuel to the building inferno.

It was too much. Andy’s head swam as the fire raging inside him sucked all the oxygen out of his lungs. His waist, his back, his neck, his hair—everywhere Marcus touched burned with a searing heat and melted Andy into a limp bag of flesh and bones as he clung helplessly to Marcus’ strong body.

Andy pulled back, panting and struggling, to catch his breath. There was a look in Marcus’ eyes. Andy recognized it from those nature shows when some panther was about to pounce on its prey. It was a hungry look, determined, and you just knew that the poor antelope was about to be devoured. Andy was the antelope, he realized belatedly.

His heart had been beating fast before; now it raced to pump blood straight to his hardening dick. He was about to get caught; he could see it in Marcus’ eyes, feel it in Marcus’ touch; the fact that he wanted to get caught didn’t make it any less terrifying. Andy tightened his grip on Marcus’ arms; if he didn’t hang on, he would collapse onto the floor, so overwhelmed he was with the sensations coursing through his body.

Marcus smirked; Andy shuddered in response. Marcus had him trapped, strong arms wrapped around him to hold him tightly against hard muscles. Andy had nowhere to turn, no way to run when Marcus pounced and slanted his mouth across Andy’s, forcefully demanding entry.

He didn’t put up much of a fight and opened himself to Marcus. He surrendered himself to that invisible force and let it take over every thought, every desire, every need.

This was it, he realized. Years of confusion, of denied curiosity, of trying to figure out what was missing in his life had led to this moment. There was no more searching, only the soul-deep recognition that he had arrived. Finally.

Andy felt Marcus’ tongue slide across his own and shivered at the contact. It was such an odd sensation to have another person’s tongue inside his mouth. It felt strange, forbidden, and Andy’s dick throbbed painfully in his pants in response. He shifted to find something to ease the pressure and felt Marcus’ erection pressing against his. Andy groaned, unconsciously tilting his hips to increase the contact.

They were connected from mouth to knee, held together by Marcus’ arms of steel, one hand buried in Andy’s hair, the other kneading Andy’s ass. So much man. There was so much man that Andy’s brain couldn’t process it all. He grasped at Marcus' shoulders and felt the sinews of muscle under his fingertips. His palms tingled at the way the muscles twisted and dipped in all the right places, as if forming handles for Andy to clasp onto.

It was all too much—and yet not enough.

Abruptly, Marcus growled deep in his chest and broke off the kiss. Andy whimpered. Why did he stop?

Then Marcus moved at what felt like a blinding speed to Andy’s addled brain. Andy’s shirt was pulled out of his pants and stripped off his body so fast that Andy didn’t even realize it had been unbuttoned. All Andy felt were the sparks left by Marcus’ nimble fingers, followed by the trail of lava flowing from Marcus’ scorching mouth. Fire down his arms, down his chest and stomach until Marcus knelt on his knees before Andy.

He stared down at Marcus, seeing but not really seeing. His senses still took in information, but his brain was no longer able to convert it into meaningful thoughts; everything was just sensation after sensation, chemical reactions colliding into one other. This must be what it felt like to be high; the unbidden thought flitted through Andy’s brain.

Then Andy felt a wave of hot air across his crotch, the heat so intense his hands buried themselves instinctively into Marcus’ curls to keep himself from falling over. Marcus’ lips had attached themselves to Andy’s briefs and were intent on sucking his very life force out of his cock. Andy cried out and forcefully pulled Marcus off. The feeling was so intense, so jolting that it shook Andy out of his haze and brought everything into sharp focus.

Marcus peeked up at him through those thick lashes, with the dirtiest smirk on his face. Andy noticed his pants were pooled around his ankles; he hadn’t remembered Marcus unbuttoning them.

Then without warning, Marcus pulled Andy’s legs out from under him, and Andy landed on the bed, flat on his back. Disoriented, Andy blinked up at the ceiling. When he felt Marcus tugging at his pants, his body reacted automatically and kicked off his shoes to help.

Marcus made quick work of his own clothes. Andy watched the muscles on Marcus’ arms bunch and flex as they lifted his t-shirt over his head and revealed the toned hard ridges of his abs. Andy’s eyes were drawn to the trail of dark, curly hair running down the center of Marcus’ stomach, following it until it disappeared into his jeans.

Then Marcus’ hands were there at his belt; they opened the buckle and popped the top button. With agonizing slowness, he pulled the zipper down, one tooth at a time. Andy gasped as each tooth separated; he was scandalized, but yearning for what lay underneath. He was so transfixed that he almost forgot about the painful throbbing of his own cock.

Andy pushed himself up to get a better view of the action. When the zipper reached the bottom and Marcus’ hands fell away, Andy still couldn’t tear his eyes from the black cotton stretched over pulsing flesh.

“Would you like to do the honors?” Marcus’ voice was rough with desire, and Andy’s eyes shot up, startled.

His fingers itched to reach out and touch, to learn the texture of Marcus’ skin and unwrap Marcus’ length from the confines of his clothes. His attention refocused on the temptation in front of him, but his fingers remained tangled in the sheets.

What if he did it wrong? What if he wasn’t any good at this and Marcus didn’t like it? He could still back out now, he could grab his pants and run out the door, back to the familiar and comfortable.

But then he would never know what it felt like. He would never know what it was like to hold another man in his hand, to feel skin on his skin, to fill that emptiness he had inside. The question would haunt him forever; he couldn’t go through life not knowing.

Andy slowed raised a hand, but it hovered half way to Marcus’ hip. Then, as if sensing his hesitation, Marcus stepped in between his legs. Andy was trapped now, his legs pushed apart to accommodate Marcus, his face inches from that tantalizing bulge.

He reached out and gingerly ran his fingertips over the exposed skin before him, eliciting a sharp inhale from Marcus. Was that wrong?

Andy glanced up and found Marcus’ jaw clenched tightly, his eyes half-lidded and smoldering. Emboldened, he brought his other hand up and spread both across Marcus’ abs, fascinated by the feeling of the tight muscles beneath his palms. His hands ran up and down Marcus’ chest, the smoothness of Marcus’ skin felt like satin.

His fingers settled on Marcus’ hips underneath the waistband of his underwear. This was it. No going back now. Andy swallowed and ran his tongue across his bottom lip. This drew a grunt from Marcus, whose fingers were clenched in fists by his side. But he didn’t rush Andy.

Andy pushed the jeans and underwear down until they pooled around Marcus’ ankles. Then he stared. Marcus was big. And beautiful. The gentle folds of the foreskin were pulled back to expose the purple, pulsing head, and the whole thing stood up, straight and proud. There wasn’t a single strand of hair in sight; Andy had never seen anything like that before.

His fingers feathered over the delicate skin around the base of Marcus’ dick; it felt so soft. He wrapped his hand around the thickness and slid the foreskin up and down; it glided like butter on top of the heated steel underneath. His fingers made their way to the head to pet lightly at the smooth gland. The length pulsed under his touch, and Andy pulled back, startled.

Another glance up revealed the smirk that lifted the sides of Marcus’ sexy lips. He nodded, giving Andy permission to keep going. A bead of pre-cum had formed at the slit of Marcus’ cock, and without thinking, Andy leaned forward to lick the drop off.

It was salty and sweet at the same time; unlike anything Andy had ever tasted; it was delicious. He lapped at the slit to coax more of the salty fluid onto his tongue. Marcus’ hands found their way into Andy’s hair and encouraged him to take the head into his mouth.

Andy discovered that he enjoyed the weight of Marcus’ cock as it sat on his tongue. He liked how hefty it was and how his jaw stretched to accommodate the thickness. He wondered how it would feel sliding down his throat and cutting off his airway. He didn’t get that far.

Less than halfway down, his gag reflex kicked in, and he pulled back instinctively. But that wasn’t enough to deter him; he licked at the ridges and swells and feasted on that musky cinnamon and spice. He wrapped his lips around the head again and tried to suck more of the delicious pre-cum from Marcus’ slit.

It wasn’t enough; he wanted more. This time, Andy ran the bulbous head of Marcus’ cock along the roof of his mouth, and when it hit the back, he took a deep breath before pushing his head down just a little bit farther. He got maybe an extra inch before his gag reflex kicked in again. As he pulled off, a string of spit dangled from Andy’s lips to the swollen purple head. It was debauched, but so, so hot.

Marcus pushed Andy flat onto the bed, and quickly relieved himself of his jeans before crawling between Andy’s splayed legs, his body shifting gracefully as he stalked his way up. When he reached the obscene bulge in Andy’s white briefs, Marcus paused and flashed Andy a knowing smirk. Andy’s dick jumped in its confines, and he grasped onto the sheets beneath him.

Marcus pulled the tighty-whities down just far enough to hook underneath Andy’s heavy and aching balls. Andy’s cock lay across his stomach, leaking profusely, the head red and sensitive to the lightest touch.

Then without warning, Marcus leaned forward and engulfed Andy’s cock, sinking all the way down until his throat constricted tightly around the head. Andy was on fire; his cock was on fire. The branding heat from Marcus’ mouth seared every cell of Andy’s body, and he shot off the bed in shock.

“Stop! Stop!” Andy called out. He pushed Marcus off his cock. Too much, too hot; his head spun; he couldn’t breathe. His cock was about to burst, and his skin burned with heat.

Andy lay back on the bed and stared blankly up at the ceiling. His nerve endings fired uncontrollably even though Marcus wasn’t touching him.

Marcus stretched out next to Andy, head propped up on his hand. The stalking panther was gone and in its place was a look of concern.

“Can… can I ask you something?” Marcus’ voice was low and rough. Andy tried to ignore how his dick jumped at the sound. Instead, he just nodded.

“Have—” Marcus frowned. “Have you done this before?”

Andy tensed. “Um… what do you mean?”

“I mean, gone home with a stranger to have sex.”

Andy flushed at Marcus’ explicitness. He glanced away wide-eyed at the description of what exactly it was they were doing. He didn’t want to answer truthfully, embarrassed at his own inexperience.

Marcus frowned. “Have you—” he paused to clear his throat. “You’ve had sex before, right?”

Andy cursed his pasty white skin and how prone he was to the slightest blush.

“Oh, my god.” Marcus rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands. “Oh, my fucking god.”

Andy’s hackles rose at the obscenity, but it didn’t feel like the right time to point out that he found it offensive.

“Unbe-fucking-lievable.” Marcus sat up and grabbed his underwear from the floor.

Andy sat up with him when he realized Marcus was putting his clothes back on. He grabbed Marcus’ arm to stop him.

“No, wait! I— wait, let me explain.” Andy grimaced at the glare Marcus threw him and let go of his arm. Marcus stepped into his underwear before turning to face him again.

“So explain.”

Andy sighed. “It’s… complicated.”

“Un-complicate it for me.”

Andy hesitated. He scrambled to piece together an explanation just plausible enough for Marcus to believe.

“Yes, I’m a… a virgin,” was all he could come up with.

“And what? You went to Ritz tonight to lose your virginity?” Marcus’ volume rose.

“No, I— I don’t know.”

“You don’t go to a bar to lose your virginity!” Marcus threw his hands up in the air. “You’re supposed to find some sweet boy, and you’re both into each other, and you explore. You don’t go to a bar full of who knows what kind of psychos and pick up a random stranger. What? Are you trying to get yourself raped?”

Andy’s half-hazy mind struggled to keep up with Marcus’ outburst.

“Well, you can forget about it. I’m not in the habit of taking people’s virginities. You should leave.” Marcus found his discarded drink and proceeded to drain the entire glass.

“And why me, by the way?” He turned back to Andy. “Why did you pick me of all the strange men in that bar? Why me?”

Andy opened his mouth to answer but found that he didn’t know why. He had wandered over to the bar and accidentally bumped into Marcus when the press of the crowd got too close. Then Marcus stepped in to order his drink, and Andy felt that invisible pull; he didn’t know what it was and certainly had no words to describe it. It just made him feel…

“You made me feel safe.”

That seemed to have caught Marcus off guard, because he abandoned his glass on the table with a sigh of resignation.

“It’s true, I don’t know you.” Andy continued. “But you make me feel safe, and I want to do this with you.”

Marcus squeezed his eyes shut, and his fingers massaged along his forehead. “I should just kick you out.”

An unexpected panic rose in Andy’s chest at the suggestion. He had come this far; if he left now, he would never find the courage to try it again.

“You wouldn’t just go back to Ritz and pick up someone else, would you?” Marcus’ voice was quieter now.

Of course not, was the answer at the tip of Andy’s tongue, but he didn’t say it. Going back to Ritz had never crossed his mind, but the idea did not appeal to him. Making it back to someone’s apartment was already beyond what Andy had thought he could accomplish. Trying to do it again with someone else seemed nearly impossible. Besides, there was that something about Marcus that made Andy feel safe; he didn’t think he could find that with anyone else. Andy decided that if he couldn’t do this with Marcus, then he would never experience it, period.

Marcus must have interpreted his silence the wrong way, because his brow furrowed with what looked like worry. “Well, fuck. What do you expect me to do with that?”

Andy opened his mouth to suggest letting him stay, but he felt stupid asking.

Marcus sat down heavily on the bed, and Andy felt his face flush under the heat of Marcus’ gaze. Marcus turned Andy to face him with a finger on the chin.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” He sounded husky again.

“Yes.” Andy wondered if his voice was as desperate as he felt.

Marcus gave one last sigh and brushed a stray lock of hair off Andy’s forehead.

“Your eyes are... beautiful,” Marcus said. “They’re so big and innocent, like a deer.”

“A deer?”

“Like Bambi.” Marcus smiled.

“Please don’t call me Bambi.” Andy cringed.

Marcus gave a little chuckle. “How about Doe Eyes?”

“Only marginally better.”

“Well, tough, that’s what I’m calling you now: Doe Eyes.”

Andy smiled. He wasn’t going to admit it, but the nickname was kind of cute. The smile faded when Marcus leaned over for a gentle kiss, a light brush over the lips. It was so different from before, not hungry or seductive. It felt tender, caring, and if Andy hadn’t known better, he would have thought it was almost loving.

Andy immediately opened to Marcus’ gently probing tongue. He could taste the spiciness of that amber liquid, and he moaned as the remnants reignited his body. He found it crazy that he could taste what Marcus drank just through kissing. Whatever that amber liquid was, it tasted good on Marcus, and Andy hungrily searched for more.

He let himself be pressed back onto the bed as Marcus nipped and nibbled at his lips, then jaw, then neck. Marcus’ rough tongue traced up and down the side of Andy’s neck, stopping to lap at Andy’s earlobe, then traveling down to tickle his collarbone. He tilted his head back to give Marcus access, and his fingers threaded themselves in Marcus’ silky curls.

Marcus slowly made his way down Andy’s body. He gave each nipple ample attention and raked his fingers through the smattering of chest hair; it tickled in a way that made Andy’s skin tingle. Who knew his chest hair would be so sensitive?

Marcus paused at Andy’s sternum, sealed his lips to Andy’s skin and sucked. The pressure brought Andy’s back arching off the bed as he clutched Marcus to him. His body was on fire again, his dick throbbed painfully, and Andy bucked, trying to find friction.

“Please, Marcus.” Andy begged.

“Easy, Doe Eyes. Just relax.” Marcus pushed him back down on the bed and continued his lazy exploration. His tongue dipped into Andy’s belly button, lapped at Andy’s hip bone, then followed the trail down to Andy’s crotch. Andy watched with half-lidded eyes as Marcus got closer and closer to his cock.

When Marcus breathed a breath of hot air against that most sensitive of organs, Andy had to bite his lip to distract himself from how good it felt. He was on edge, all the blood in his body rushing past his ears toward his engorged cock that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. He hadn’t even realized he was holding his breath until Marcus gave him a slow, wet lick from the base of his cock to the head.

“Wait.” Andy protested. Air rushed out of his lungs. “I’m going to come if you do that.”

“That’s kind of the idea.” Marcus smirked.

“But—”

“Don’t worry about it so much. Just relax and let me take care of you.” Marcus’ hand ran up across Andy’s chest and raked at the hair. The other hand pushed Andy’s briefs down his legs.

He shuddered at the caress, his head falling back as he gave himself over to the sensations. A molten heat encased the head of his dick and branded his skin. The searing lava flowed down his cock, engulfed him and pushed all thoughts out of his mind. His entire being centered on the fire radiating out from his cock. He was being consumed.

He felt a soft caress fondle and cup his balls. They were rolled back and forth against each other, the friction sending bursts of electricity into his cock. Andy arched to bury himself deeper into the furnace of Marcus’ mouth.

Then he felt Marcus’ throat constrict around the head and without warning, wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him. Andy arched up off the bed as his senses were flooded, and he was blinded by a white-hot blaze. Ropes of cum exploded from him and left his cock feeling raw. Marcus didn’t stop until every last drop had been milked clean.

Andy descended slowly from the peak. When he managed to open his eyes again, Marcus was lying on his side, head propped up on his arm with a wistful expression.

“Hey, Doe Eyes.”

“Hey.” Andy’s voice felt shaky and weak. His eyes drifted shut again at the soothing sound of Marcus’ voice.

“You alright, there?”

“Mm...” was all Andy managed to get out.

Marcus let out an amused chuckle.

“Well, you’re welcome,” Marcus murmured.

Andy breathed deep, his nose filling with the cinnamon and spice of Marcus’ scent. It smelled so good that he rolled in closer so he could bury his face into Marcus’ neck.

The last thought on his mind was that he should reciprocate before falling asleep. But maybe he’ll just take a little nap before he gets to it.