Pressure, it's what Peter always ran away from, pressure from expectations. He hated it. He desired to live free of people's expectations for him. He loved the unexpected, that sudden twist at the end of the story that always blew your mind and left you breathless. Living freely, moving through life unemcumbered. The only sure thing he liked was a paycheck every couple of weeks and having him next to him.
Not so much him, rather what he offered. They had been a couple in the past, Peter and Marcus. Apart from the great sex, their relationship had been an empty exercise in futility. Peter loved his freedom and his solitude. Marcus loved himself. They hadn't ended on the best of terms, but their bodies knew each other perfectly. Marcus was great to have in bed, excelent sex and nop expectations of breakfast and a call later.
Peter was never much for sleeping. One wouldn't call him a morning person, more like a restless soul. He awoke early today next to Marcus. The morning light shone on his lover's abs. Marcus always cared more for his body than anyone else. Peter appreciated this fact, at least from an aesthetic point of view. Ever so often they'd hook up after Peter ended his work shift at the bar. Though lately it was happening more often. They had cared for each other at one point but it was never love, not even a striking similarity.
Peter reached over to his nightstand and grabbed a cigarrette. As gently as possible, he lit it as not to wake Marcus. He wanted to avoid the usual morning after conversation. He didn't have anything to say today. What can one say to someone they just slept with who you have no feelings for? Peter closed his eyes and layed back down. He wasn't trying to fall asleep. As he put out what was left of his cigarrette, Marcus stirred.
"That was a great fuck."
"You're awake" It was more of a statement than a question.
"I always feel when you can't sleep and wake up. We do have a connection, you and me. Well, at least physically. Can't deny that." Marcus rolled over on top of Peter and kissed him. "But it was actually your cigarrette." He chuckled at kissed him again.
"What are you doing!" Peter pushed him off.
"I thought we could have a quick morning fuck. Then head off to the shower. It's better than coffee anyday."
"God Marc! Is that what we've reduced each other to? Fucking?" Peter lit another cigarrette as he sat on the edge of the bed.
"I hate those awful things."
"You were always trying to get me to quit."
"Secondhand smoke kills. Don't change the subject anyway." Marcus pulled Peter back. He started to kiss him all the way down to his navel. Peter without flinching or dropping his cigarrette pushed him off.
"Damn you Marc! I don't want to fuck."
"Honestly, why are you complaining? You agreed to this a long time ago. We are both willing participants in whatever it is. We had a great time last night as we usually do; and now you suddenly turn all holier than thou on me. Don't be a fucking hypocrite!" Marcus got up from the bed and started getting dressed. "I'm not saying I want to get back together, that I can't live without you, but just give me a break. This is just no-strings-attached sex, as we agreed. I know it better than you do apparently."
"Can it really be no-strings-attached between us?" Peter stood and pulled on a fresh pair of underwear.
"What!" Marcus looked at Peter flabbergasted and laughed. He walked over to Peter and looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you want to get back together?" He grabbed him by the neck and kissed him.
Peter dropped his cigarrette and returned the kiss. Their tongues explore each others mouths. They fall back into bed. Rubbing against each other. Marcus pulled off Peter's underwear and began to slowly kiss his way down to Peter's cock which was getting harder. Peter stopped moving and opened his eyes. As he looked at the ceeling, he doens't feel anything. "Stop."
"What the fuck!" Marcus looked up at Peter. "Why did you kiss me back?"
"I needed to know. I just needed to make sure there was nothing there. I already knew but, I don't know. You should leave." Peter pulled away and sat on the bed; as Marcus stands, his jeans undone, his cock poking through the top of his briefs, his cold glare boring into Peter. "I don't want to get back together; nor did I think about the possibility of it. I can't sleep with you anymore."
"You are a dumbass, Peter." As Marcus continued dressing in silence, Peter stood, pulled his underwear back on, and walked over to the kitchenette. Peter started to prepare himself some coffee.
"Marc, you and I are totally wrong for each other. If it wasn't for the sex we would never even look at each other."
"Fuck you!" screamed Marcus. "I may be a self-involved prick, but you, acting like a cool cucumber, are a liar. At least I'm honest. You act all cold and unfeeling, except I know you. Right now, I can feel the blood seething under your skin. You're a dormant volcano. I used to like that about you. Now all it does is piss me off. That's why this isn't working out. It's like a little revenge plot for you, a game. The thing is, I'm not playing."
"Get the fuck out of my apartment!" Peter threw the ceramic coffee mug he had in his had at Marcus. It hit him straight in the eye.
As Marcus falls to the floor, he laughs. "I told you." He stood\, grabbed his keys and left the apartment, slmming the door.
Peter fell to his knees in silence. He thought to himself, 'Marc is right.' On one hand, he was glad to be alone; on the other Marcus had hit a nerve. They knew each other well enough top be able to hit each other where it hurt the most, dead center. He'd had a point though, could they fuck each other with no string attached? In theory, they could. The truth was that there were strings. Strings one couldn't really see. Nonetheless, they were there. Things always get complicated.
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