Yes, I am alive. I'm sorry for not working on any of my other projects, but I've had a severe case of writer's block for almost a month. Sucks, but there you are. I've just now broken out of that funk – hopefully this shows that.

Warnings: R rated for a reason. Slightly graphic – not full out – sex scene (it's the first scene, heh). Lots of use of the word 'fuck.' A bit of nonspecific angst that's not really delved into. Very little dialog. Enjoy.


It was too much, too fast, he was going to explode if something didn't give soon. Pressure from all sides – the hands ghosting his sides and chest and stomach and lower, the pulsing erection sliding in and out, the friction building until he couldn't help it – he screamed as he came hard under the other man's ministrations. Not a second later the man came hard as well, slumping bonelessly over his bare back.

The only sound in the dark room was their harsh breathing for a number of infinite minutes. But then the spell was dispersed, the man pulling back and out, leaving him sprawled carelessly on rumpled sheets. He could hear the man's clothing rustle as he retrieved them, but he didn't look up, didn't move, not until the door shut quietly behind the man.

Even then, he only rolled enough so that he could pull the covers over himself, basking in the almost empty afterglow. He ignored the feelings of worthlessness, the feelings of shame and guilt about whoring himself out – except he didn't really get paid, so slut was a more apt description. He focused instead on the physical satiation that flowed damped through his body. He drifted off to sleep with the scent of sex and lube choking his dreams.


The next morning he was at the office, only slightly late as he'd taken a bit longer in the shower than he'd allotted for. No one noticed though, as he slipped into his cubicle, simultaneously booting up his computer and reaching for the small stack of phone messages that had accrued from the previous evening.

He spent the morning focusing on work, his mind blank but for what was in front of him. His lunch break came and passed without him even noticing, too focused on the mundane paperwork in front of him. Too focused to notice the gaze of a particular young man, a young man who watched him speculatively every day.

He finally finished his busywork late in the afternoon, booting down his computer and checking his messages one last time before disappearing from the building, briefcase in tow. It was a bit early for him to hit the clubs, so he actually stopped for a bite to eat, something he usually forgot. An hour later he hit the streets.


They went to the other man's place this time. Another man he'd never seen before, a new apartment, clean and fresh, soon to be spoiled by the smell of sweaty bodies and sex. The man had bright blonde hair and beautiful green eyes that had focused on him from the moment he'd stepped into the nameless club pulsing with life and music.

They'd left ten minutes later. He didn't know the man's name, he didn't know that the man worked in the same office as him, he didn't know that the man had watched him for quite a few months, and he didn't know that the man had gone to the club with the intention of forgetting about him, only to find him leaning against the bar looking for an easy fuck.


They fucked and it was spectacular, for both of them. He'd found a great release, the afterglow shining through him. It was easier than usual to push away the worst of the self-depreciating feelings that stuck with him all the time, as the man who'd brought him home cuddled him close after.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd spent the night, though he mentally chided himself to wake early so that he could make it to work on time. Tonight, however, it was the vision of beautiful green eyes that followed him to his dreams, dispelling the sweat and sex smell that usually choked them.


He woke the next morning without a trace of regret, slipping from the apartment unnoticed. The walk to his apartment wasn't too long and he quickly showered and changed and was in to work without a second thought. The day passed much like the previous one, only with the impending weekend looming towards him. Fridays were the days he liked the least, less to distract him during the day.

He forgot lunch again, working through it once more, going through meaningless actions that took no amount of effort from his mind. A few times he found himself thinking of beautiful green eyes, but quickly brushed such thoughts away. The beautiful green eyes would shortly be lost in a sea of less remarkable eyes.

It was one-thirty when his world crumbled. A hand on his shoulder was all that presaged it – but that could've been anyone's hand, any number of people that wanted his attention for a short time. But it wasn't just anyone's hand, it was last night's fuck, with the beautiful green eyes.

His stomach dropped, the insane thought that he'd been stalked flashed through his mind, and he was generally struck speechless. He usually never saw those people again, or if he did, usually it was back in the clubs where there were rules – quick, casual fucks were just that, nothing more. But for one to show up at his office, that was unprecedented and unsettling.

He stared, noticing the way the man's face wrinkled slightly around the eyes and the forehead, showing what seemed to be worry? But why would the man be worried about him? Another rule – you didn't care the day after the fuck.

The man opened his mouth, then shut it, as though deciding not to say something. They stalemated for a few seconds more before the man finally spoke.

"Would you like to grab some lunch?" The tone was hopeful, but the way the man's eyes wavered betrayed his uncertainty. He was close to declining – it was never good policy to get involved with a person after they'd been a nameless fuck.

"Okay." He found himself standing before he realized it, and frowned slightly at himself. He'd go, but just long enough to let the man know a few of the rules of etiquette for these one night fucks.


The man's name was Chad. Chad was a nice enough name, he thought, as he laid in Chad's bed once more, the man's arm wrapped about his stomach, his warm weight against his back. He wasn't sure how it had come to this once more, but he wasn't too upset, the physical euphoria leaving him feeling fuller than he normally did.

Apparently Chad worked at his office, had a cubicle five down the row from him, not that he'd ever noticed. He could barely remember what his bosses looked like, let alone any of his coworkers, so it wasn't that big of a surprise.

Chad was beautiful, Chad was nice, Chad was a spectacular fuck and he had the feeling that Chad was the type he could fall for in a heartbeat. So while the past two nights had been wonderful, it would go no further.

He slipped away from the warmth that was Chad, feeling immediately and drastically colder as he climbed into his pants and found his shirt. He collected his jacket and left a short note breaking what little they had off – basically informing the man he'd been a quick, albeit wonderful, fuck.

Then he left, back to his own apartment, the cool feeling of the sheets making him shiver and wish for another warm body to help him heat them. He felt curiously blank, none of the usual afterglow, but none of the usual shame and worthlessness either. He fell into blank, white dreams.


The next morning he did laundry, the entire basket smelling of sex and slightly of the cherry scented lube he'd accidentally purchased last week. He went grocery shopping, stocking the sparsely filled fridge with a few oddments that caught his eye as well as some basic toiletries. He picked up a few more packages of condoms and lubes, he was running a bit low.

It was only early afternoon, so he took a walk, not wanting to think. The city was bustling, and he quickly lost himself in the wanderings, not paying attention to where he was going. He stopped at a café somewhere and picked up a coffee, warming his wind-chilled hands.

When he finally realized where he was headed, it was too late. The park didn't seem anywhere near as imposing as he had imagined it to be, nowhere near as imposing as it had seemed that one evening that he'd been trying to forget for so long. As he watched, a youngish woman followed two squealing children in, dispelling totally the oppressive air that seemed to linger about the place.

Shaking his head, as though to clear it, he turned blindly from the park, only to blunder right into someone. The person set him straight, not seeming to mind being barreled into. But he couldn't stop, he had to get away before the memories swarmed over him.

So he broke away and ran. A glance back showed a shocked handsome face that he'd seen every night he'd fallen asleep alone, a face he'd done everything to desperately forget, but never was able to.

He ran, barely aware of the tears streaming down his face as he pushed through the sparse crowd. He never thought the man might be following him, and indeed, by the time the man collected himself, he was gone.


He knocked frantically on the door, and when it was answered, he wasted no time, flinging himself at the blonde man with the beautiful green eyes that could help him forget, forget everything and anything, at least something, please.

Chad was obviously shocked – shocked to see him again, shocked that he opened the door, only find someone who was supposedly only a quick fuck, then having that same man throw himself at him.

He'd hoped that Chad would just fuck him and take it all away, but the blonde wasn't reacting to his spine-tingling kiss and he knew then that he'd made a mistake. He was pushed away, gently but firmly, those beautiful green eyes staring at him intently. A hand came up and brushed gently at his cheeks, and it was only then that he realized he was still crying. He was led into the apartment without a word, but not to the bedroom like the other two times he'd been here.

Instead he found himself sitting on a plush sofa, a mug of steaming hot chocolate cradled in both his hands. He'd curled his legs underneath him, ignoring the way his sneakers dug into his thighs. The hot chocolate had a few large marshmallows floating in it, he noticed absently as Chad settled on the couch next to him.

Silence reigned, but he took no notice, focusing intently on the cocoa with its rapidly melting marshmallows. He was desperately trying not to think, trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation with Chad, trying to banish the park and the man who'd crushed him and made him what he was now. No, that wasn't true. He'd made himself into who he was now, and there was no denying that.

Wordless once more, Chad set his own mug of cocoa down with a soft clink on the glass table next to him. Warm arms wrapped around him gently, as though he was fragile and would break. With precise, measured and controlled movements, he set his own mug of cocoa down on the matching glass table next to him, before turning and diving into Chad's embrace.

Half an hour later he was cried out, leaving only a dull ache in his chest and swollen puffy eyes that he could feel from his spot against Chad's chest. He concentrated fully only on the feeling of Chad's sweater, the sound of Chad's heartbeat through the barrier of flesh and bone and wool, and the warmth of Chad's arms as they held him close.

Not asking, not demanding, only comforting. He was asleep in minutes, dreaming of trees and screamed words and soft sweaters.


He woke with a start – confused because he was in a strange bed, but with no smell of sex or stranger to confirm his place. His head throbbed and his eyes felt heavy, though he wasn't quite sleepy. The smell of something spicy made his stomach heave, gurgling it's displeasure at the sharp scent, while reminding him at the same time how long it had been since he'd eaten.

He sat up carefully, his head still throbbing. The room was familiar – he'd seen it before, and it was then that he remembered the park and Chad and Jake and throwing himself once more at Chad, really earning the title of slut.

He cringed, but hopefully his breakdown would have at least had the good side effect of driving the man off for good. Somehow that thought saddened him a bit. It would be nice to have a friend again.

As he stood, intent on sneaking out for the third time in as many days, he realized he lacked a few articles of clothing. Namely his pants, shoes and shirt. He'd been put to bed in his socks. He smirked at that for a moment, but searched quickly for the missing articles of clothing.

They were nowhere to be found though, and he frowned. It was about then that the door opened, and Chad peeked in. He froze, blinking in shock, before blushing madly, absurdly. Chad tossed him a small pile of clothes – his – before backing out and shutting the door behind him.


He stayed for dinner, which hadn't been as spicy as he'd thought it smelled. He helped wash dishes after dinner, thoroughly enjoying the way the mundane task amused him. He had a dishwasher that he rarely used, and found himself enjoying drying the dishes Chad handed to him.

After dinner they sat on the sofa again, but Chad didn't press and he just enjoyed the other man being there. They watched a movie, some inane movie that wasn't too funny, too serious, too sappy, or too scary. It was rather bland and unfeeling, and he found that he couldn't force himself to focus on it.

He watched the room instead. The clock above the encased television was a pretty mahogany wood replica of a grandfather clock, on a much smaller scale. There were a few other clocks spaced out on the shelf with it, but he focused on the pendulum of the miniature grandfather clock.

It was almost an hour later when Chad fell asleep on his shoulder. He smiled softly at the man, petting the soft blonde hair gently. He prodded the man into bed, not objecting when the sleepy blonde pulled him close to cuddle. He fell asleep to dreams of cinnamon and clocks.


In the morning he woke before Chad, slipping free of the blonde man's embrace and sneaking from the apartment once more. He walked home quickly, enjoying the soft confusion that fluttered through his head as he thought about Chad. Jack and the park stayed buried.

It was ten blocks away that he found the small shop. He must have walked past it a hundred times before, but something this time caught his eye. He slipped into the shop, walking up to the window display and ignoring the curious salesgirl behind the counter.

The clock was of a deep cherry wood, long and rectangular shaped, but with a soft curve for the top to allow for the circular clock face. The accents, roman numerals and clock hands were done in dark, burnished silver. He smiled, a soft feeling of contentment flowing through him.


His apartment was cold and empty – the super must not have turned on the heat yet this year. He would have to complain if he thought about it. It didn't take him long to shower and change. He smiled as he left the bathroom, pulling on a pair of careworn jeans and a long sleeved tee. He was about to grab his jacket and leave again when the buzzer sounded.

"Yes?" He answered, frowning a bit. No one knew where he lived, just his fucks, and all of them knew the rules.

"It's Chad." The man's voice was cool and smooth through the intercom, and try as he might, he couldn't read into it. He buzzed the man up regardless.

The knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts – how did Chad know where he lived? – and he wasted no time in opening it. The blonde stood there impassively, and he stepped aside quietly, letting the man in without protest.

Chad didn't take but two steps in before he turned to him. "What's your game?" The man asked harshly, his beautiful green eyes no less beautiful, but cold as ice now.

"Game." He repeated with only a bit of disbelief. "What?"

"You fuck me twice, leave me a note saying it was nothing, then you show up and try it again, only to dissolve into tears. Then you spend the night again, only to slip away again –"

He cut Chad off with a chaste kiss, startling the man into silence. "No more. I had to shower and I needed fresh clothes. I'm sorry. I should've woken you."

Chad gave him a measuring look, as though he was trying to see into his mind. "Yes, you should've." But the man relaxed, allowing a smile.

He smiled hesitantly back, before scurrying back to his bedroom. He pulled out the gift-wrapped box and returned to hand it to a surprised Chad.

"It's a thank you. For yesterday." He said quietly, watching intently as Chad slipped the box from the paper gently. The man broke into a wide smile when he pulled the elegant and sleek clock from its carefully padded box.

"It's beautiful. How did you know?"

"Above the TV. They were very pretty." He offered another smile.

"Oh. Thank you. But you shouldn't feel obligated –" Chad started.

"I wanted to."


They spent the day around his place, Chad making no move to leave as night encroached, and he making no move to shoo Chad out. The man finally made excuses around ten thirty, and he could honestly find no reason to keep the man with him.

Eleven and he slipped beneath cold and impersonal sheets that smelled of laundry detergent and faintly of sex. Or perhaps that was the mattress beneath. He dreamt that night of angry words, Jake and the sound of a hand hitting flesh.


The next morning found him at work once more, though there were deep bags under his eyes. He had gotten very little sleep last night, most of it nightmare-ridden and not at all restful. Chad watched him with worried eyes, and he didn't lose himself so much in his work. He found his thoughts drifted quite a deal more that day, towards bright blonde hair, beautiful green eyes and a worried face.

Chad took him to lunch again, though he paid this time, so perhaps it was him taking Chad to lunch. They talked a little, and he found himself smiling a bit more. He finished later than normal, but Chad got done about the same time, so it was alright. They walked to Chad's apartment, where Chad cooked and he watched.

They did dishes together again, and he found himself laughing at something Chad had said – something he couldn't remember doing in the longest time. Chad watched him with soft green eyes and the dishes were finished quickly.

They sat on the sofa afterwards, and he found himself sitting closer than was friendly to Chad. He smiled at the man, taking an arm and wrapping it around his shoulders. He sighed tiredly and relaxed, aware of Chad's soft smile.

He fell asleep there, the previous night's restlessness catching up to him. He dreamed of soft green eyes and softer smiles that reminded him of soft down comforters and soft, squishy pillows.


He woke the next morning with a horrible cramp in his neck, from where he laid against Chad's shoulder. They hadn't moved from the couch, though a quick glance at the rows of clocks – the dark cherry and silver one prominent – showed they had a few hours before they had to be at work. He shifted slightly to get a bit more comfortable, stretching out a cramping leg.

He knew he should be leaving, but he ignored the rather large calling to leave before Chad woke. He smiled softly at the blonde, poking at one of the curly yellow locks of hair before shaking Chad awake.

The smile Chad gave at seeing him made him want to melt into a pile of goo on the couch, but that set off warning bells like claxons in his mind. He managed to force a smile back before making the excuse that he needed to change and shower before work and slipped out of the apartment.

It was happening again – the thing he'd been avoiding so well. He didn't want these troublesome feelings. He didn't want to care that Chad was happy, he didn't want Chad's happiness to set off some sort of sparks in him. He wanted to go back to pushing away Jake's aftermath with the physical dulling that had worked in the past. Granted, it hadn't worked perfectly, but it had worked to some extent.

At home he showered and shaved quickly, but stopped before dressing. He walked over to the phone and stared at the small pile of paper scraps that were heaped next to it. He sorted through them without realizing what he was doing, the seven digit numbers glaring up at him.

It was only when his hand was on the phone that he realized what he'd been about to do. He dropped the phone like it had scalded him, backing away. He didn't want to call some random person at six in the morning, hoping that they would remember him and want to come over to fuck him senseless. But he needed to banish these troublesome feelings that were blooming in him again.

He frowned, but picked up the phone. A short conversation later and he finally went to get dressed, picking out a comfortable outfit of sweatpants and a tee-shirt. He settled in the most comfortable chair in his apartment, a large, overstuffed chair that sat near the window and near the radiator.

He thought that morning, while Chad worried at the office. He thought long and hard about things he'd been trying to forget for too long. He thought of Jake, the park, Chad, and most of all, how he felt, and how he wanted to feel.

It was noon when he finally felt things had been cleared up into some semblance of order. It was also noon when he got a knock on his apartment door. He was startled, and considered for a moment not answering it, but curiosity got the better of him, and he opened it to find Chad with a sack of food.

They ate lunch, and Chad asked him why he had called off work. He'd replied simply that he'd needed to sort out his head. Chad used his phone to call of the rest of the day, citing food poisoning of some sort.

He relaxed in his chair, pushing Chad into it first before settling himself comfortably half in Chad's lap. And then he explained.


Jake had been his first love. The man was beautiful on the outside, but quite rotten on the inside. He'd been constantly pushing for sex, even though he hadn't wanted to quite yet. Jake was getting quickly fed up with his excuses, and started threatening to break things off with him.

Of course, he loved Jake. But the day he was to meet Jake in the park, the day he was going to give in, he'd been accosted by another boy, pushed against the side of a building and kissed like there was no tomorrow.

Jake had seen, but had stormed off in a huff, not seeing that he hadn't instigated or returned the kiss. Jake confronted him in the park, calling him all number of names, but the most prevalent, whore and slut.

He'd sat there for quite a while, not wanting to give up on Jake. But when he'd seen the man the following day, there was already a replacement for him hanging off Jake's arm. It was about then that he turned to sex for the dulling quality it had. He proved Jake's admonition true, whoring himself out to anyone who would have him.

He'd been deflowered by a man in the back room of a nameless club, the smell of sweat, alcohol and sex overpowering. Three days later he was back, only this time the man he found took him home instead of fucking him in the back room.

And since then there had been only a handful of nights where he hadn't been fucked into oblivion before sleeping. He worked himself dead during the day, and fucked hard at night. He was a slut. A whore. Everything Jake thought of him and more.

And he didn't deserve Chad. Chad needed to go before he got hurt too. He knew that Chad couldn't want him for more than a fuck, he shouldn't – it wasn't good to love a whore.


He was crying again by the time he finished, something he thought past. Chad just hugged him close, arms wrapped tightly about him as he cried. He knew it couldn't last though, and he pushed away weakly, standing on wobbly legs. The feelings of worthlessness came crashing back in, and he could do nothing more than tell Chad that he needed to leave.

Chad didn't listen though, not that he could blame the man. He wasn't exactly commanding, in tears and shaking. Warm arms wrapped about him once more as he sobbed helplessly.

The tears calmed quickly, and he blew his nose, breaking away from Chad.

"You should go." He said quietly, not meeting Chad's gaze.

"No. I want to stay." Chad's reply was quiet but firm.

"But… you can't. If you do, I might hurt you too. I don't want to hurt you." He said, frowning sadly.

"I'll take that chance." Chad replied, closing the distance between them and catching his jaw. "I'm not Jake, and you're not what you think you are."

He scoffed, but didn't protest as Chad kissed him lightly, a mere brush of lips against lips. Hooded green eyes watched him from too short a distance, and he found himself ensnared in their hypnotic spell. Before he realized what he was doing, he was kissing Chad again, this kiss much less chaste and much more passionate.

They ended up in his bed again, and the sex was spectacular again, and afterwards the glow completely drowned out anything. He fell asleep to dreams of hooded green eyes and a feeling of complete contentment of the like he'd never felt before.

To his surprise, the contentment didn't flee when he woke, and seemed to only grow when he turned to find beautiful green eyes watching him tenderly. This time it was he who gave the heart-melting smile, and Chad who returned it, albeit a great deal less forced than he had the previous day.


They went to work together, Chad wearing a spare suit of his that was a bit too small in the leg, and a bit tight about the waist. He wore a belt. And his trousers were always an inch or two too long.

They ate lunch together, and went to Chad's apartment.

They slept together every night after that, even if they didn't have sex.

He moved into Chad's apartment at the end of the month.

He found a better job after half a year.

They had a picnic in the park on their one year anniversary.

At his high school reunion, Chad punched Jake and broke his nose.

They lived happily ever after.


The end. I'd appreciate it if you'd review and tell me what you liked of it.

Oh, and this is a one-shot. I'll never deal with these characters again, no matter how much you wheedle. And yes, I realized I never named the main character. Oops.