Question Mark

by Culpepper, S. E.

  “…You, too,” Mark returned, his voice a shadow. “So much.”

  They held each other for a long time until Zane settled them both back on the bed, Mark’s head now resting on his chest. He ran his fingers through the soft, short locks of Mark’s hair and tried not to ball in the midst of all this unexpected bliss.

  “Can I ask you something?” Mark’s cheek moved against the muscle of Zane’s chest and he smiled.

  “Of course. Anything.”

  “I remember when you came out to the public, but had you already come out privately? To family or friends? You didn’t say so in that interview you did.”

  “You watched my interview?” Zane sounded surprised and pleased.

  “I caught it when you first did it, but I watched it again a couple weeks ago,” Mark admitted. “I’ve probably watched every video of you available on YouTube. I had a Zane Whitlow marathon.”

  Zane shook his head. “Whew. Should I be worried about that?”

  Mark scooted closer to him and sighed his no. Silence fell and Zane thought about Mark’s original question, remembering the stress of his coming out and worry of how he would be received. Coming out to the public had been so much worse than telling his mother and eventually his agent.

  “My mom knew. I told her after my freshman year of college. Jenny and Leslie knew. And, of course, the couple of guys I dated back before I was well known.”

  “How long did you know before you told your mom?”

  Zane mumbled as he tried to do the math. He couldn’t recall having a “gay epiphany” when he realized he was into men. It was more like an awareness that became a solid knowing. He shook his head absently.

  “I don’t know. I think it happened really gradually with me. I had some girlfriends—kissed, but never slept with any. Had no desire to do that. Never. Not once. That was sort of a glowing neon clue. I actively tried not to think about shit like guys versus girls. I kept myself really busy and exhausted myself so I wouldn’t have to confront the stuff waiting around in the back of my mind.

  “I think that the summer after freshman year I finally sat down and let it all out from under lock and key. I had this roommate…”

  “Ahhhh,” Mark said. “There’s always a roommate.”

  “Did you have a roommate?” Zane asked, his head coming off of the pillow.

  “Nah. No unrequited love for the guy in the next room. In fact, I couldn’t even stand my first roommates.”

  “Well, this guy was straight, but he had this killer effect on me. When I realized it was a crush, that’s kind of when I had to stop fucking around and make some decisions for myself. He wasn’t even anything amazing, he just hit these trigger points in my brain or something. I never told him. God, even thinking of doing that still scares the hell out of me. The knowledge was still so fresh, then. I didn’t really want to christen the U.S.S. GAY with a confession of love for my very straight roomie.”

  Mark cracked up against him and Zane gave him a squeeze, loving the intimacy of where they were and how they held one another. It had been so long since he’d experienced anything like this, and never quite this way.

  “Was your mom wise to you?”

  “Hell no!” Zane laughed. “I guess I had us both fooled. Posters of half-naked chicks on my walls did the trick. She kept patting my hand and asking, ‘Are you sure, Zane? You’re a gay?’”

  “‘A gay’?” Mark shook against him, practically choking.

  “She wasn’t up on the lingo. Though, she probably still goes to her book club meetings now and says, ‘Zane’s got a new gay in his life. Isn’t that sweet?’ It’s harmless really.”

  “So she supported you. Took it pretty well?”

  “We were in sort of a small town—she’s still there actually—and I think after the initial shock wore off, she was really worried about what would happen to me and how I’d be treated. It wasn’t such a big deal because I was going to school out of state and I’d like to think I can take care of myself, but a mom’s a mom. She didn’t want to have people being bigoted dicks about her son. I kept it a secret though—professionally. Chose guys very carefully because I never let getting sex take first priority. I’d have had all sorts of guys bribing me if I’d been promiscuous. Two of the guys I was with were in the closet, too. Also actors. They do mostly stage stuff now.”

  Zane chuckled again and Mark arched his neck to sneak a peek at him in question. He said, “I think it was like three days after I told mom when she walked into my room and asked me if I had a type. I said, ‘Yeah. Men.’”

  “Seriously? That’s all you said?”

  Zane grinned. “I was coming to terms with it myself! I didn’t want to sit down and tell her I had a hard on for the manager of the grocery store or whatever. Weird. Still weird. We’re close, but she’s never met any of the guys I’ve dated. They haven’t been the type to allow it, and I guess I knew I didn’t want them to be the ones I was bringing home to her. To me, meeting her is a big deal.”

  Mark made a noise that Zane thought sounded understanding. Zane knew his mom was dying to meet Mark—though he hadn’t been able to update her on their reconciliation yet. He wanted to make that introduction very badly… A first for him.

  “Your family’s met at least one of your guys…” Zane said quietly, thinking of that picture up in Mark’s old room. His imagination—evil, vindictive thing that it was—mulled over Mark sleeping with that bastard there. He wasn’t just jealous for Mark in this situation either. The thought of that great family getting to know someone else and liking him made Zane restless.

  Mark grunted, ignoring the tension in Zane’s comment. “I’ve only had a couple serious boyfriends and a lot of serious crushes that left me a big hot mess. The family only met Tim and Rafe.”

  Zane groaned. “God… These names will never escape me. Hell.”

  Mark pinched him playfully. “Cut it out,” he smiled against Zane’s skin. “I happen to know that my family loves you more than anyone I’ve ever been with and possibly more than they love me.”

  Zane pulled Mark on top of him in one swift move and nipped at his jaw. “Impossible.”

  Mark wriggled a little to brace himself on his forearms, his groin grazing Zane’s in a way that sent a white-hot bolt of energy up through Zane’s spine. He let out an involuntary grunt of pleasure.

  “I’d like to meet your mom someday,” Mark said softly, plucking at a loose string on a pillowcase. “No pressure, though. Only when and if you’re ready.”

  Zane’s heart pulled a Grinch and grew three sizes. “You’ll meet her as soon as I can arrange it,” Zane promised. “You two are the most important people in my life.”

  Mark bit down on his bottom lip like the words were almost his undoing and buried his face against Zane’s neck, breathing shakily. “Shit. Zane… I-I just...” He lifted his head and kissed him, then showed him what he couldn’t say in a slow, thorough way.

  ***

  An attack of nerves kept Mark in the shower five minutes longer than usual. He didn’t want to walk back out into that room and stick another wrench in the works when he and Zane were finally together again. He groaned in irritation, feeling like he always had to wrestle this internal coward before doing anything. Why couldn’t he be more like Reid right now—marching out to shoot his mouth off, knowing things would work out—or even like Sean who was too practical most of the time to give into anxiety?

  Shutting off the water, he toweled off and stepped into a new pair of underwear. When he’d left Albuquerque, he’d been low on clean clothes so he was now stuck snapping the waist band of a pair of violently red bikini-cut briefs he hardly ever wore unless his dresser drawers were empty. He looked like he was wearing a Speedo and the flush that spread over his skin only made him feel more ridiculous. The underwear didn’t look bad, they just looked so small…and red. Everything was right there, like, Hello, I’m Mark’s dick and these are his balls. He had to start doing laundry more often.

>   Mark wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out of the steamy bathroom to find Zane at the desk in a pair of loose jogging pants, reading over his pages for tomorrow. He was snacking on the steamed vegetables delivered by room service; count on him to stick to his diet no matter what.

  Zane glanced up and smiled before ducking back into his work. Mark breathed a sigh of relief that he could throw on some clothes without his siren underpants wailing the alarm. It was too late to take the damn things off completely and go commando.

  Mark sifted through the debris of his bag left behind after Hurricane Zane tore it apart. He found the pants he wanted and moved quick, the towel nearly snapping as he threw it aside. The pants were up to his thighs when he heard a choked gasp from across the room.

  “Hold up!” Zane blurted and Mark froze, blushing a color that complimented his hot pants. He looked up in time to see Zane swing his chair around. “I had no idea you owned anything like those!”

  “Come on! I was low on clothes when it came time to pack—”

  “And thank God you were.” His words held a trace of humor, but Zane was eyeing him with boiling intent, his gaze moving up and down Mark’s body in a way that got a rise out of him—no pun intended—in spite of his discomfort.

  “I didn’t mean to buy this kind. They were in a stack of regular underwear and I grabbed them without looking.”

  Zane settled back in his chair, his legs loose and open as he considered Mark. “Take off the pants,” he said, fingers on his bottom lip.

  Normally Mark would argue, but there was something about that hot stare and the commanding tone that lessened his self-consciousness and gave him a little swagger. He dropped the pants and stepped out of them.

  “Happy now?” Mark asked.

  “Not yet.” Zane watched him for a couple more seconds before his hand fell to his lap, just inches from his hardening length. “Let me see you.”

  Mark didn’t even try resisting. He stepped over his bag and around the bed until he was in front of the desk and Zane, who opened his legs wider to make room for Mark between them. They weren’t touching until Zane rolled forward in his chair and laid his hands on Mark’s waist. He ran his hands down over that low top hem, back over his ass, forward again to his hips, and finally back to the hem again.

  “Hmm,” Zane growled low in his throat and Mark’s cock punched against the stretched fabric. “Dessert.”

  Some time later, Mark lay still on the floor beside the desk and in front of the fireplace, dazedly staring at the elaborately tiled ceiling. Zane was against him and leaving a trail of light kisses on his stomach and ribs. They were both exhausted and happy. Only, Mark was still a little on edge.

  “I know what I’m getting you for your birthday,” Zane said against his skin. “And Christmas. And Valentine’s Day. Or maybe I should say that I know what my birthday and Christmas and Valentine’s gifts will be.”

  Mark chuckled. “If I had any idea you’d like them…”

  “You probably still would’ve hidden them from me.”

  He hesitated then grinned. “Yeah. Probably.”

  Kisses fell on his side and over his stomach to the opposite hip. Mark squirmed. “How can you be so tense after that?” Zane asked absently, still moving his lips against Mark’s body.

  If Zane thought Mark was tense before, that comment had his muscles knotting up all over. He so didn’t want to ruin this moment.

  “What is it?”

  Mark took a deep breath and sat up, forcing Zane to follow suit as he pulled the comforter off the bed to cover them both. “I have some bad news and I didn’t want to tell you.”

  Zane’s body tightened and his voice was wary as he spoke. “What is it, Mark? Don’t talk in circles.”

  “I leave for home the day after tomorrow,” he blurted. “I didn’t tell you sooner because, well, at first we were arguing more than talking and we only now got back to a good place. I-I didn’t even know if you’d see me when I flew out here and I purposely kept the trip short when I made arrangements.”

  Zane blinked then seemed to perk up. “Well, it’s no problem to extend your stay. I mean, you don’t have to stick with me every day or anything. I know being on set isn’t as glamorous as some might think. We can rent you a car and you can explore or whatever. Go sightseeing.” That Zane was offering to foot the bill for all of that was clear and it only solidified Mark’s resolve. He wouldn’t use this man. Ever.

  Mark worried away at his bottom lip and started wadding the duvet in his fingers. “That…that would be awesome, Zane. Really. But I think I need to go back. I’ve made some decisions about what I want to do and I don’t want to wait to get started.”

  To his credit, Zane pursed his lips and didn’t immediately come at him with an argument. “What decisions?”

  Mark cleared the lump from his throat and tried to swallow his fear as he answered. “I don’t want to live in Albuquerque anymore. It’s full of memories—some good, most bad. I mean, I wasted almost two years chasing after a guy who wanted someone else out there. I want a new start. Without a job to go back to, I decided to move back to California. Until I find work, I’ll probably crash with Reid.”

  “Bakersfield.”

  “Yeah.” Mark tried to figure out what Zane was thinking as he said that one word, but his boyfriend was guarding his feelings very well at the moment. He had to ignore the urge to fill the silence with rambling.

  “Do you want to get back into the same field, or do you want to do something different?”

  Still so calm, Mark thought. Did that mean there was a storm coming? For a second or two, he considered making a joke about taking up acting, but thought it might be a bad idea. “Reid told me that he knows for sure that the ambulance service he works for is hiring dispatchers. I also know that the county is hiring as well and with my experience, I could maybe swing something. But, before I really try those places, I thought, maybe, I could see about L.A. and if there are any openings?” Shit. He didn’t mean that to sound like a question. “I-it’s just a thought.”

  Zane’s lips loosened until they turned up in a careful smile. “You’d look there?”

  “I-if it was okay with you. I’m not asking to like, move in together or something, but if you’re going to be there when you’re not filming…”

  He should shut up. Just stop talking.

  Zane was grinning now. And laughing a little. “Sheeze. If it’s okay with me? Of course it’s okay with me. I can’t believe you’d consider it over Bakersfield.”

  “There are advantages to not being right under my family’s nose all the time,” he gave him a meaningful look. “My balls couldn’t handle the interruptions we’d endure at Reid’s place.”

  Zane’s face as it broke in laughter was more handsome than any Mark had ever seen. He’s mine, Mark thought. He’s really mine.

  Eventually, Zane got serious again and Mark greeted the change with an uneasy breath. Uh-oh.

  “I get what you want to do, Mark. Establish yourself and get settled again, but there’s no rush for you to go do that, is there? You could stay here with me for a little longer and when I have to make my first trip back to start the media junket for Buckland’s Hill we could go back together.”

  The light in Zane’s eyes made them incredibly blue and Mark hated that he was about to snuff that brightness out.

  He gritted his teeth and forged ahead. “There’s more to it than that, Zane. I know how people have used you in the past. I won’t do it. Whether you want to spoil me or not, I don’t want you to ever resent me because I can’t do all the same things for you. A dispatcher’s salary is a couple million short of what you can bring in.”

  “Mark, baby—”

  “No, listen.” Hell, there was that baby endearment again. So hard to resist. “This is important to me. I’m good at what I do. The same way you are. I want to work and contribute and spoil you back. I need to work. Staying here and letting you wine and dine me; take care
of all my needs… It would be lazy of me, for one, but it’d also create something between us that I don’t want. As much as I want to spend all the time with you I can, it’s not that healthy to actually do that in the long run. If we do this,” he flicked his hand between them, “then we do it together, not like a 1950’s couple.”

  The seconds that passed before Zane nodded were interminable. Zane pressed against his bottom lip the way he did when he was thinking and Mark couldn’t stop staring. “I told Mikey the other day that I didn’t want you to be a ‘kept man.’ You’re not my secret lover or a mistress—mister?—whatever,” his eyebrow quirked up. “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t want to take care of you. That’s sort of my nature, I guess, but you’re right, it’d go bad. I know I’d end up controlling you and everything that makes you Mark would be smothered until I resented you and you hated me. I’m definitely looking for good things for us, not that.”

  Mark scooted closer to him until they were shoulder to shoulder leaning back against the end of the bed. “So…you understand then?”

  Zane fidgeted with his lip again. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “And a huge part of me wants to never leave your side.” Zane didn’t respond, just kept his eyes trained on the duvet spread over his lap. “Is it—are you worried I’ll cheat on you?” Mark whispered, the question making his skin prickle.

  Zane shrugged guiltily. “Only a little bit—but I swear that I mean it when I say I trust you. It’s only my stupid insecurity that makes me consider it. It’s hard to care so much about someone like this. My career is hampered by rumors all the time. It leaves us wide open.”

  Mark nodded absently. “It does. I promise that I will not do that to you, though. I know what it feels like to think I’ve fucked things over so royally that I’d lost you and it taught me how important you are to me. I want and need you in my life.”