Engineer Benson - 6. Chapter 6 - July 20, 1993

July 20, 1993 Tuesday, 945 AM
Okay. We're home now. He doesn't want to admit how much the stress of the last few days has affected him, but I can see it. We've also not said a word about what happened last night or how we woke up with him spooning me. I guess I'll wait for him to talk since I don't know what the hell to say. But … at least now I know why going to town was such a big deal for him.

We got up early and loaded the van with our gas can and the two others we found in Bob's shed. Well, I guess it's ours now, but anyway, we had three jugs to fill if we could find some gas. I also took a couple of empty crates to toss canned food or dry goods in if we could find some.

I had wondered why it had been such a priority for us to leave the relative security of the farm and our half-finished projects to come back into town. We weren't running out of anything, and with the solar panels, we were using lots less gas for the generator. But Mark had insisted. And once we got to town, he sat forward in the passenger seat.

"Head to my place." Mark removed a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "There are a few things left there we can scrounge."

"Really?" I steered around a knot of three zombies in the road in front of the fire station. "You don't think we should go to the gas station or the hardware—"

"I need to get to my house." He nearly growled the words. Sucking air through his teeth, he sighed. "Sorry. I just …" He looked down at the little folded piece of paper in his hands. "I wanted to leave a note. In case Elizabeth …" He quieted, staring with unfocused eyes at the paper.

I processed that quickly, things clicking into place in my head. "Okay. We'll leave a note." I turned up our street, watching for any additional movement. All the while, I was wishing I could help him somehow.

"Thanks."

After a few minutes, we made it to our section of the street, and we both got out. Only a few staggered toward us, and they were over a football field away.

"I'll be quick." Mark headed inside, and I followed. We'd learned our lesson with tight quarters, and we checked corners before turning them. Though a couple more windows were gone, nothing else seemed to be in the house. Mark stuck the note to the fridge and opened the door.

"Here. Take the pickles. We can even use the juice after we eat them to preserve fresh stuff."

"Oh," I took the warm, mostly-full jar. "Good idea."

That and a couple of jars of jam were all we could salvage from the fridge, so we got back out to the van with time to spare. After we got in, Mark flopped back into his seat.

"Sorry." He worked his jaw. "I know it wasn't worth the trip."

I got us moving, gently bumping past the few zombies who'd been headed our way while we stopped at the house. They rolled against the side of the van but didn't do any real damage. I checked my mirrors and saw them getting back to their feet, now behind us and getting further away.

"It's okay, Mark."

Oh. Yeah. Before I go on with this entry … Zombies. That's what I've started calling them because they sure fit the bill. Maybe whoever is reading this will laugh at me, but you're not here - we are. And we agree that these things are zombies.

Anyway, maybe I'm getting numb to them. I drove around a few as they tried to follow the van down the road. I don't panic anymore unless there's a reason to, and now the sight of them isn't enough. I still gotta work on my calm when face-to-face, but I'm getting better there too.

"So, hardware store?"

Mark nodded, but he seemed so drained. Up until now, he'd always been frosty, professional, and aware when we were out. But today, he had been none of those things. It's like he's on autopilot, and I know he's thinking about Elizabeth.

I hesitated at the intersection. Even with the long pause, Mark simply continued to stare out of the window.

"You know …" I pulled sharply on the wheel. "I think maybe we should just head back."

"I'm fine, Wayne." Mark straightened in an attempt to put on a brave face. "And we're already in town."

"I'm talking about me." I headed toward the edge of town on the way past the fire station. "I'm not quite with it, and I need to be." I glanced at him. He gazed back with soul-crushing sadness on his face. "Right?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah." He gripped the handle above the door as I took the turn to the farm. "Maybe tomorrow you'll feel up to going." He cleared his throat. "Or, maybe we should finish the fence and get a few more panels up, then make the trip for gas and the hardware store."

"That sounds good."

We got back to the farm, and Mark disappeared into the battery shed. He's working on another fence panel, and when it's done, we'll drag it out and put it in place. I'm going to wrap this up and go check on him, then maybe get another couple of solar panels hooked up.

I've managed to get eleven on the roof so far, and with our strong sun, the batteries are staying topped off. But that won't last. If we're still here come winter, we'll need as much solar as possible just to keep things going.

Okay. I'm headed out to see how my friend is doing. I'll write more later.

July 20, 1993 Tuesday, 830 PM

God, I'm weak. I know better, but I just can't help myself.

My last entry left off with me going out to see how Mark was doing. Well, he wasn't great. He forced himself to make progress, but he struggled hard.

Since he was in such a state, instead of climbing on the roof, I stayed to help him with the fence. Together, we managed to get six more eight-foot sections done. We hung those, and now we've only got a stretch of about eighty feet to go. Then the yard will be completely enclosed. The biggest advantage of that is it'll break line of sight. If a whole herd of zombies stumbled on us, they could push it over, but there's no reason to if we're quiet and they can't see us.

So, lots of progress on our place, but Mark had me worried.

"Hey." After we'd hung our sixth section, I patted Mark's shoulder. "Come on. Let's relax the rest of the day." It had only been around three PM, so I expected him to push back some, but he only nodded.

"Okay."

Once we'd gotten inside, he sat heavily on the couch.

"I'm going to check our charge - be right back."

He didn't reply, and I went to the battery shed. With ninety-two percent and a few more hours of sun, we could afford to spend some power.

I came back and started dinner. The menu tonight consisted of a can of beans, a big chicken breast, an onion, a few tomatoes, and a bell pepper. I found some cumin too, so all of that became chicken chili with a side of freshly baked bread.

While I cooked, Mark sat silently on the couch. Dinner was a similarly quiet affair, with the only sounds our silverware in the ceramic bowls.

"Hey." I gathered the dishes after we'd finished. "Let's watch a movie. There are a few VHS tapes in the entertainment center, and we've got full batteries. Let's relax a bit after the dishes."

Mark shrugged. "Sure."

I finished in the kitchen, then sat on the floor to look through the movies available. There were a few fairly modern choices, and I'd not seen some of them.

"How about Batman Returns?" I held up the tape.

"Yeah, that's fine."

With the movie loaded, and the television on, I pushed play. Then we settled on the couch.

Unprompted, Mark put his arm around my shoulders and leaned slightly into me. I knew at the time, and I know now - I'm a replacement. I'm just a placeholder filling a spot I'm not meant to fill. It's like hammering a square peg in a round hole, and it can't end well.

Even while I told myself this at the moment, I loved his need for me. God, I'm terrible. I value and miss Beth. I wish with everything in me she was here and that my friend wasn't suffering. But there I was - tingling with whatever drugs my brain injected into my bloodstream and growing a boner because he was touching me.

The movie started, and Mark slowly leaned more and more into me. It didn't take long for his head to be on my chest. I stroked his dark hair, and listened to his breaths. We both pretended to watch the movie, but I don't think either of us could tell you a damn thing about it.

We stayed there until the credits rolled.

"Hey." I patted his hip. "I know it's early, but I'd like to go to bed. Will you come with me?"

"Yeah." He sat up. "Sounds good."

I shut down the TV and VCR while Mark hovered nearby.

"Come on." I smiled and took his hand. He let me lead him to the bedroom, and once there, I took off my pants. He stood, his arms limp, openly looking at me.

I took off my shirt, now wearing only my briefs. "Here. I'll help you."

He let me undress him. I hesitated when he was down to his underwear. "Ah. Do you want a backrub?"

He nodded. Wordlessly, he took off his briefs and climbed onto the bed to lie on his front. After only a second, I stripped mine too.

I knew better. I knew better, but I couldn't help myself. God. I just WANT him, and it felt like he was giving himself to me.

I went and found some lotion. Clearing my throat, I opened the bottle. "Ah, for your back. It'll make things easier."

"Okay." He sighed when I settled on his rump. "You can do what you want." The whisper electrified me, and I tried to temper my expectations.

"Oh," I chuckled nervously and ran slick hands over his neck and shoulders. "You shouldn't tell me that."

"You can," he said. "I trust you."

I gulped. He had to feel my erection lying on the small of his back. Though, he shifted his pelvis and adjusted himself. So it wasn't just me.

Getting started, I rubbed his back and shoulders. He relaxed under my hands and released a deep sigh. While I tried to limit my lust, my body didn't get the message, and precome leaked out of me. I kept wiping it off the small of Mark's back, trying to pass it off as lotion, but I'm pretty sure he knew.

With Toffson and me, I'd always been the guy doing the screwing. It had been years, but during that moment with Mark, my body remembered, and the need for it kept building. My hands on his back slowed, and I wet my lips. "If … if something happens you don't like, you'll tell me?"

"Yes."

Permission. He'd given me permission. Even though I knew he probably shouldn't be making decisions in his state of mind, at the time, it helped me justify what I was about to do.

The massage continued, but now, in addition to my hands rubbing his back and neck, I ground my groin into his ass. I started slowly, with just a little bit of movement - testing him. Seeing how he reacted to my cock sliding against him. He shifted under me a little, lining things up even more. So I kept at it. Back and forth, pushing my slick erection deeper each time.

I'd not entered him, but that was only a matter of another ounce of force. I held myself in place, gazing down at him. He'd turned his face to the side. His mouth was open, and he quietly panted, his eyes opening periodically to reveal a glazed stupor. God, he's so damn handsome.

I couldn't wait anymore. I pushed. The previous work I'd done on him smoothed the way, and I slid inside.

"Ahh." His eyes opened. "Fuck.'

"You okay?" I whispered, forcing myself to hold still with only an inch inside him.

He nodded. "It's intense."

"I'll take it slow." I kissed the back of his neck and lay on top of him. I moved in slow, tiny back-and-forth motions. I rolled us on our sides and gripped his cock. I'd never had it in my hand before, and it felt so good. He was rock-hard, and I couldn't help but grin.

I stroked him, and soon enough, he'd taken all of me. Now his breaths had turned to grunts and moans. He gripped my hip, pulling me into him as I moved.

"Oh, shit. Ungh." He arched his neck. "Fuck. You're gonna make me come."

"Good." I wasn't far behind him. He groaned, and his body locked down on my dick. As he rhythmically shot onto the sheet, I orgasmed inside him. My forehead pressed against the nape of his neck, I breathed heavily and finished with a shudder.

We lay there and wound down. My cock was still inside him, spent but still hard. Finally, I pulled my hips back.

"You okay?" I needed to know he was all right.

He sighed. "No." He rolled and put his arms around me. "Not really."

I held him. "What can I do?"

Quiet for a long while, he drew a shaky breath. "Just don't leave me, okay? I'll do this whenever you want, just don't leave."

I tried to reassure him that I didn't plan to. That he was the only important thing to me in the world. That he didn't have to do anything to keep me around. He didn't reply. He just lay there and held on.

After he'd gone to sleep, I got up to write.

I hate myself. I've done something to make my best friend feel like he had to pay me with sex, and I hate myself.