You Fell Into The Back Of My Mind - 1. Delusions

You Fell Into the Back of My Mind

By Lalanekomaster

Chapter One: Delusions

It always happened this way it seemed, for Tyler, get a girlfriend, lose interest in a week, play along for a month and then break up before it got serious. He hadn’t even got pass second base with a girl he was in a relationship with, he was hot, he knew that but somehow this always seemed to happen. He wasn’t sure he had a ‘type’ per say though each girl was cute, sweet and rather enthusiastic but not too enthusiastic. He liked girls not sluts. Well he always assumed he liked girls but after this last relationship he wasn’t quite sure anymore.

If he had been sixteen, or eighteen or hell even twenty he would have put it on nerves or maybe something lame like not finding ‘the one’ but he wasn’t sixteen, eighteen, or twenty he was twenty – five and all romantic notions were restricted if not completely gone. He wasn’t a virgin though he had one night stands but that was completely different that was sex he didn’t want sex he wanted to know why he couldn’t have a relationship with a girl, like her and have sex with her.

He was obviously a weirdo and using a word like ‘weirdo’ when he was twenty-five and male obviously proved this point. Tyler sighed, he needed coffee. He walked out of his room and toward the kitchen only to find Mark sitting on the counter, in his ill-fitting, red boxers, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand and a piece of clay in the other. He was day dreaming apparently.

Tyler glared at the oblivious red head one for matching his boxers with his hair, two for sitting on the counter when he kept telling him not to, three for being only in boxers – they cooked in here you know – and four for being an idiot.

Tyler clapped his hands loudly, startling Mark awake and drawing a hiss from said red head when a droplet of scorching liquid touched his thigh.

Tyler very nearly felt sorry for him, very, very nearly but then he remembered that Mark was an idiot. An idiot that was defiling his kitchen - yes his kitchen because he cooked, he cleaned the dishes and he didn't set things on fire - with his butt.

"Tyler!" Mark whined before setting down his coffee cup and poking at the small reddening patch of skin, "Why are you always so mean in the morning?"

Tyler just snorted before snatching mark's coffee and taking a sip, he wrinkled his nose in distaste, too sweet. Mark hadn't noticed that Tyler had stolen his preciously diabetes in his super bright yellow mug he was still moping. Mark was what one could call eccentric, he was the carefree artist type, complete with long (shoulder length) hair - dyed, and Tyler forgot the original color since the only body hair on Mark was his eyebrows which were also dyed. He probably had his original color down there but Tyler was definitely not curious enough to do that – he had a tattoo of a rose (kind of girly but whatever) on his hip and if he wasn’t covered in paint he was covered in clay. His eyes were blue, kind of pretty if they weren’t attached to an idiot, a male idiot at that. His face was structured nicely, his lips were chapped but full and looked soft (as soft as chapped lips could look), his chest was muscled in a rather attractive way – not that you could really tell most of the time since it was hidden under baggy shirts – and his limbs were long, his legs though… they caught Tyler’s eyes and they didn’t want to let go.

Tyler wasn’t gay – maybe a little bi sometimes but definitely not gay – he was attracted to girls. Girls: those things with breasts… the things with breasts and nothing hanging between their legs… the fairer sex, the ill-tempered at-that-time-of-the-month beast, female, woman, chic whatever you wanted to call it. He knew what he was attracted to and it just happened that Mark had girly legs. They were hairless for crying out loud! Hairless and toned but not overly muscular, they looked soft and Tyler wanted to touch them.

“…Carlson is going to start thinking something’s up you know.”

Tyler snapped out of his haze, “Huh?”

Mark had a weird look on his face, his lips were pinched upward at the corner a bit, like a smile but not. Almost like a smirk except Mark wasn’t the type to smirk…

“You stare at my thighs any longer and Carlson might question our relationship you know,” Mark said with one of those not clueless smiles, it was rare.

Tyler wrinkled his nose and quickly turned, half to cover his blush and half to glare at Carlson. Their apartment had a hole in it - not very big just about the size of a baby’s fist – across the stove under the faded outline of a painting of something he couldn’t remember (probably roses, Mark really liked roses).

“Well Carlson shouldn’t he sticking his face into that hole to know what the fuck I’m doing anyway!”

Carlson – old, about sixty, balding, doe eyed all around creep – had the nerve to look indignant before shuffling away grumbling something about faggots and indecent.

“That fucking asshole, I’ll show him a fucking faggot,” Tyler growled before shouting, “Maybe next time if you wait long enough you’ll get to watch me fuck him into the counter!”

He heard a thump and darkly wished he’d given the old bigot a heart attack, a small one, he wasn’t a killer.

He heard muffled laughter and looked down to see Mark covering his mouth, his eyes dancing humorously. He removed his hand and took in a few gasping breaths before giggling, “So should I run away before you push me onto the counter and have your way with me?”

Tyler blushed and folded his arms hoping to look manlier, “You’re damn straight you should, I’ll have you on your back and you’ll beg for it.”

Mark dissolved in uproarious laughter and slipped off the counter in Tyler’s bracing arms, Tyler couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re… such… an ass!” Mark scolded thru gasps, he quivered almost un-endlessly as he slipped under Tyler’s chin, nestled against him.

Why can’t they be more like you?

Tyler became stiff; he did not just think that. He pretended to misunderstand himself, as only true liars were able to do. He had just been thinking why mankind couldn’t be as easily going and easily likeable like Mark. That was a lie though; he hadn’t been thinking that, not at all. What he really had been thinking was.

Why can’t the girls that I’ve dated been more like you?

Tyler would have banged his head against the wall if he hadn’t still been holding Mark – rather comfortably he might add – and was a wuss about pain.

“Uh Ty?”

Tyler started and looked down into Mark’s eyes, “Hmm?”

“Are you ok?” He asked.

Tyler felt the blush tint his cheeks, “Uh yeah, I’m good.”

Mar grinned, “Well then can you let go of me?”

Tyler released Mark like he was a hissing rat and proceeded to nearly trip over his own feet in his haste to get an appropriate distance away.

Mark had that look on his face again, the one that looked flirtatious – except that Mark wasn’t ever flirtatious so he was obviously delusional – before lifting himself back onto the counter.

“So, what’s for breakfast?”