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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Please Take Me Home - Chapter 13

Sly caresses under the table, mischievous winks and grins from the stage, and minute-long meetings in tiny rooms become Tom and I’s entire romantic relationship in the week following our first real night together.

Even though I have a bus to myself now that Josie is gone for good, Tom and I decided that it would attract too much attention if he started staying with me, especially since it is common knowledge that my bus only contains one double bed.

We try to have time alone when we can, meeting in storage rooms and closets to make out before returning to sound-checks and shows and interviews at radio stations, often hiding an awkward stiffness in our pants.

Waking up, alone in a hotel room with Tom after a perfect night together was magical. Any soreness in my body was overshadowed completely by feelings of love and happiness and excitement. In our private room, Tom and I finally had the freedom to be together like a couple, showering together and kissing whenever we felt like it without the paralysing fear of being discovered.

Being with Tom is like being wrapped in a huge soft, warm blanket on a freezing cold night. He’s comfortable and safe. I am more deeply in love with Tom, who I have only just met, that I have ever been in my life.

Before I met Tom, I was lonely and depressed. I was waiting for something to happen, for anything to happen, but it never did. I wasn’t achieving anything. I couldn’t think of ways to make my life better. I couldn’t keep my relationship going. I couldn’t even write music, the one thing that has been my only talent my entire life. Our last album is filled with songs I wrote years ago.

And then came Tom.

Tom and I jammed a few times in the first couple of weeks of the tour, but never really did anything besides play old punk songs. When Josie left last week, I discovered that I actually have a lot of free time. Unable to be alone, properly, without the chance of being caught, Tom and I resigned to playing music together.

I’ve never really considered lyric writing to be anything other than a solo art. I couldn’t understand how two people could be so compatible that they could connect and write eloquently about the same thing and have it sound good or even okay.

In the past week, Tom and I have written songs full of angst and pain and lust and love and sadness and loneliness. We’ve been able to turn our new and intense feelings for each other into lyrical magic. We’ve written a song almost every day. Everything has fallen into place, with Tom on guitar singing catchy hooks and choruses, and me on bass, singing the more sombre verses. We make the perfect duo, but I know that there’s still something missing.

I’m thinking about that missing piece as I sit next to Tom, who is scribbling away frantically in a notebook adorned with stickers and sketches of aliens. I watch him write, but I can’t make out the hastily penned words. I pluck at my unplugged bass, unknowingly strumming along to a song Tom and I created two days ago. I’m not paying attention to anything really, so I jump a little when Travis taps me on the shoulder.

“Shit man!” I say, “You scared me!”

“Sorry dude,” he laughs “but I was just coming over to see what you were up to. You two have been in full concentration mode all week.”

“Oh, um we’re just writing a couple of new songs together,” I’m a little nervous, worried that any conversation about me and Tom will lead to awkward questions, “just to pass the time, you know.”

Travis smiles and sits down next to me. A man of few words, he doesn’t say anything else.

I’m not sure what to do. Do I offer to show Travis one of the songs and risk him reading something into the lyrics? Or do I just ignore him and look like an idiot? I remain silent too, until an idea turns over in my head.

What if Travis is the missing piece that we need to make this music perfect? He’s a drummer, and we’re missing a drummer. Travis is innovative and clever, and can truly change a song from bad to fucking great just with his beats. I glance at Tom and consider asking him first, but I don’t want to give him the chance to say no. I go ahead and ask Travis.

“Hey umm, Travis?” I say, as Tom looks up from his notebook.

“Yeah?”

“Your girlfriend went home right? So you’re not really doing anything now?” I mean now as in ‘for the rest of the tour’ and hope that it comes across that way.

“Yeah, she couldn’t get anymore time off from her job. It’s starting to get a little lonely around here.” Travis’ voice is soft and he chuckles lightly in the way he does whenever he’s talking about something with any more depth than the weather.

“Well um, maybe you’d want to jam with us for a while? We’ve got some songs that we need to work on a bit, and neither of us can drum so maybe you could help us out?” I see Tom’s face light up with a smile as I talk, and I’m grateful that he’s on board with the idea.

“It’s not anything serious, just a little bit of jamming.” I add, to make sure Travis doesn’t think we’re coercing him into joining another band.

I look away from Tom and Travis is nodding and grinning.

“Yeah, man. I’d love to!” It’s one of the most emotive responses I’ve ever gotten out of Travis. I smile to myself.

“Sweet!” I reply. “Well let’s get right to it then. How about we move to the rehearsal room, that way we won’t be distracting everyone in here.” Tom and Travis agree and we move down the hall.

For the next four hours, Travis plays every song we’ve written this week. First we play them to him and he listens, taking in our suggestions for how we think the drums should sound. Then he plays with us and completely ignores all our suggestions and we remember why he’s a drummer and we’re not. By the time we need to start finishing up, I’m ecstatically pleased with how the new songs are sounding and so glad that I invited Travis to play with us.

As Travis heads back to his bus to get ready for our show, I have a short conversation with Tom.

“So that was…” I say, my arms folded, a smile on my face, “awesome.”

“Travis is rad, you’re rad, the songs are rad.” Tom is smiling too, and I can’t help but wish that I were kissing those lips right now. “I’ve gotta say, I’m pretty glad you asked him to play with us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So do you think we should just keep writing songs and then playing them with Travis?” I ask. “I mean it’s fun, but there’s no real endgame.”

“I think, and I’m not sure how this is going to go down with some people around here,” Tom’s smile falters a fraction, “that we should start a new band. The three of us.”

And I think the exact same thing. I don’t tell Tom though. All I do is glance around quickly, checking to make sure the space is clear, and lean in and kiss him. From the way he kisses me back, I figure he understands what it means.

#tomark #tomark fan fiction #tomark fanfic #pleasetakemehome

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Please Take Me Home - Chapter 12

A nice long chapter because I'm terrible at updating.

As I walk towards him, I take him in. I take note of every one of his features, every movement, every quirk.

I watch his chest rise and fall in a quick, faltering rhythm; he’s nervous. I stare into his soft, brown eyes, pooling with water; he’s upset. I glance at his hands as he picks at the skin on his clenched knuckles; he’s tense. I watch as he lies back on the bed and pats the space next to him. I ignore him and sit on the edge, as far from him as possible.

“Mark I,” he starts, but I don’t let him finish.

“Tom, I am going to give you one chance to make this right. I don’t want you to lie and I don’t want you to try and justify anything. I’d rather just hear it straight, and then I can decide what I want.” I don’t look at him directly as I speak, choosing instead to watch him in the mirror above the room’s desk. He looks uncomfortable and worried, and I see him take a long, deep sigh before he speaks again.

“Mark, I’m sorry.” His voice is calm but hardened with anxiety. I watch as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt as he talks. “I’m sorry for lying and I’m sorry that you had to find out this way. And I’m sorry about Josie. I never wanted you to get hurt.”

He takes a moment to breathe deeply, and I wait in piercing anticipation for what he’s about to tell me.

“I’m going to start at the beginning, and I promise you, I’m not going to lie.” I see him glance at the back of my head, so I nod slightly, indicating for him to go on.

“When I was eighteen, I met my wife. We were both just out of school, and both confused about what we wanted to do next. I wanted to be a musician, and Bec wanted to be a designer. Neither of us saw college as an option, and that separated us from most of our friends.” Tom speaks quickly, with a sense of anxious urgency. “We were together out of loneliness and isolation from everyone else we knew. We were together not because of mutual attraction, or like, or love, but because we understood each other. It wasn’t ideal.”

Tom pauses, and I see that his eyes are now even more watery than before. He’s picked the stitching out of his shirt and the hem is now staring to come lose. Before he continues, I hear an audible tear as he rips the cotton fabric apart.

“We both spent a couple of years, living together, trying to break through in what we wanted to do. I tried being a solo artist, but I only landed a few gigs and hated the isolation of it. She tried designing furniture and pitching it to stores, but without a college degree she was always beat out by people with more experience and skill. We struggled to make ends meet.”

I can hear the trepidation in Tom’s voice. Whatever’s coming next is hard for him to say.

“Then Bec got this amazing job offer in New York. She wanted me to move with her, but I had just started AVA, and it was the happiest I had been in years. Me and those guys,” he pauses, “we just click, and I didn’t want to give it up. So Bec and I decided that I would stay in California and she would go east. We knew we wouldn’t keep up a long distance relationship, so we just let it be.

“We kept in touch, and Bec said nothing about seeing anyone else, and I wasn’t seeing anyone either. I decided to visit her in New York. We spent a week together, but when it was over we agreed to end it for good.”

Tom’s voice is getting softer and softer, and I am now straining to hear him. I can hear in his voice that he’s distressed, but I’m still too wary to move any closer to him.

“About three months later, Bec called me and told me she was pregnant. She said it must have been during our week together. She said that she was keeping it. She asked me what I wanted to do, saying that if I wanted to be in the picture that was okay, and if I didn’t want to be that would be okay, too.

“I flew straight to New York and spent the next six months working a shitty job building stages for Broadway shows and helping Bec as much as possible. I didn’t feel good about being a dad. I wasn’t ready and I didn’t feel like Bec was either. But I still loved her and would have done anything to support her.”

I turn to face Tom as he takes a moment to collect himself. As soon as I see the look on his face I put my hand in his and look into his eyes. He gives me a small smile and squeezes my hand. I tighten my grip in return.

“When Bec had the baby, a little girl, I knew something wasn’t right. She had blue eyes and light hair, and both me and Bec have dark hair and brown eyes. I didn’t say anything to begin with, because I didn’t want to believe that the child I loved wasn’t mine.

“But Bec started acting strange. We moved back to California and she started avoiding any type of conversation about New York. I noticed her dodging phone calls on her cell and she would hardly let me touch the baby. I put it down to our bad experience in New York and the over-protective nature of new mothers.

“When the baby was about a month old, Bec came clean. The kid wasn’t mine. She’d been seeing someone in New York, and had kept seeing him right up until she found out she was pregnant. The guy was unemployed, and could hardly afford to take care of himself.

“When she found out she was pregnant, she did the math and figured out it could have been his or mine. She panicked and called me, and had just hoped that the baby would turn out to be mine. She knew I could offer her better support, and that I would be a better father.”

Tears stream down Tom’s face and his voice has risen to almost a shout. I stroke the inside of his hand with my thumb in an attempt to offer some sort of a calming presence.

“She knew straight away that the baby wasn’t mine. She told me she thought that maybe if she waited long enough, I would love the girl enough so that I wouldn’t leave. She said that the real father had been trying to get a hold of her ever since he’d found out she’d had the baby. He knew it could be his, and he wanted to know for sure.

“I was humiliated and hurt and angry. But I also knew I had to leave before I was sucked further into the situation, I moved out, told my family and her family what had happened and sent her divorce papers. It’s been five years since I last saw her, and she still refuses to sign them. She says I owe her money. She says that I can’t let her daughter grow up without the support she needs. She’s been guilting me into giving her money for years.”

Tom is full on sobbing now, and I know that my hand in his is not enough to comfort him. I manoeuvre myself so I’m laying next to him and the pull him into me so he’s lying with his head on my shoulder with my arms draped around him.

It takes a moment before Tom speak can speak again, and now he is quiet and hushed, like he’s telling me a secret in a room full of people.

“I’m such a sucker, Mark. I’ve paid for this little girl’s education, her clothes and her toys, and she’s not even mine. Bec still won’t let her real dad see her, because she’s scared he’s going to want shared custody. She sends me photos, showing how small and terrible her house is, and how happy the kid is when she gets new things. I can’t let a child suffer like that, I just can’t. And it’s draining me, Mark. It’s draining me emotionally, not just financially. I can’t afford to pay Bec what she wants so she’ll sign the papers, but I can’t afford to keep living with this hanging over my head.”

I stroke Tom’s cheek, wiping away his tears and quietly shush him. I feel terrible. I feel terrible that I made Tom talk about this, and go through the pain. And I feel terrible about his entire situation. But it must be nothing, nothing, compared to what he feels.

“Tom, I’m going to make this okay. I promise you, I’m going to make it all okay.”

I lean my head down and kiss his moist cheek. I run my hand through his hair and wait a minute for him to calm down. When his tears are silent again, I speak.

“Tom, we’re going to make this right. I have the money to pay for the divorce papers. And we’re not going to let that girl suffer, okay? Do you hear me?”

“Mark,” he mumbles as he wipes his face with a piece of torn cotton, “you know I can’t let you pay her. She’s asking for hundred of thousands of dollars.”

“Tom, I told you, I’m good for the money, however much it is. I’ve invested well. I promise you, it’s going to fine. I’m going to help you, and you’re going to be okay.”

And I mean what I’m saying. I’m more than financially stable, and I care about Tom too much to let his suffering go on any longer. I’m already coming up with a plan in my head, but I decide to let it wait until morning; right now Tom needs love, not a business strategy.

I smile down at Tom, and for the first time tonight, he smiles too. He tilts his head back and looks up at me. I stare into his heavy eyes for a long time. Neither of us moves until Tom looks away. I move my hand back to his hair and run my fingers through it, admiring how it looks now that it’s grown out a little. We lay in silence for what could have been 5 minutes or an hour.

Just when I think Tom has fallen asleep, he speaks my name very softly. I hum questioningly in reply.

“I have to tell you something,” his voice is quiet and slow, and I can tell he’s been thinking about what he’s going to say for a while, “and I want you to know that I mean it. And I don’t care if it’s too soon, or if you don’t feel the same or if I’ve misread everything and I’m totally out of line.”

I swallow hard, thinking I know what’s coming but not wanting to be too hopeful. The moment of silence that Tom takes to speak feels like a lifetime, with my heart pounding in my chest and the rest of my body dead still.

“I love you, Mark.” As he says the words his hand moves to leg and begins stroking it gently.

I am relieved and nervous and excited and scared. I’ve never felt the way I feel about Tom with anybody else ever before. We hardly know each other but I feel like I know him better than anybody I’ve ever met. I want to spend every minute of every day with him. But at the same time, it’s all brand new to me, and I feel like it’s too good to be true. I love him, I know I do, and I want to tell him, but the words are struck in my throat.

I feel Tom shift next to me and he begins to move away. I’ve waited to long and now he’s uncomfortable. My silence was too much, and I’ve upset him. I need to speak, and I need to speak now.

“Tom,” my voice is urgent and stuttering, “I love you. I love you too, Tom.”

My breaths are coming heavy and quick as Tom sits up and turns to me; a small smile on his lips. I only have a moment to look at him before his mouth meets mine and he kisses me with more passion than ever before.

My hands move to Tom’s head and back, and I pull him into me with desperate ferocity. I feel Tom’s own hands start gripping at my t-shirt, his arms pinned between us as our lips and tongues work away at their game passion.

All of a sudden I feel myself being thrown back down on my back, and Tom manoeuvres himself so he sits on top of me, straddling my hips. There is only a brief stop in our kissing before Tom is leaning back down and pressing his mouth to mine, his hands beginning to explore underneath my shirt.

My own hands rest on Tom’s hips, but as I feel his fingers skim over my the metallic ring in my nipple I move my hands downwards and caress Tom’s inner thighs.

Tom moves his mouth away from mine, and as always, I think I have acted too quickly. That’s until a small groan escapes Tom’s mouth, and he tugs my shirt over my head. Then, with a smoothness that sends chills up my spine, I feel Tom’s tongue lick my nipple piercing, and my length grows very hard, very quickly.

I’m so taken by Tom’s mouth on my chest that I forget about what my hands are doing, and arch my back.

“Tom” I moan, low and long. He responds with a movement of his hips.

I feel him grinding on me, and I know he can feel my cock on his ass. I open my eyes as Tom sits upright. I stare longingly into his dark pupils as my hands begin working at his zipper. He gives me a crooked smile and gets to work on my own jeans.

I feel myself getting nervous. Tom and I have reached this point only a few times, and it has never progressed further than oral action. I’m scared to go any further, but also curious and desperate too. I want to know what it feels like, giving and receiving, and I want to deepen my intimacy with Tom. But the thought of suggesting it makes my stomach turn and dampens my mood, which is not what I really want right at this moment.

I swallow nervously as I take Tom’s stiff cock in my hand and start working it, slowly and tenderly, with him mimicking the action on my own length.

I use my other hand to give Tom a slight push in the back and he leans down, once again initiating a passionate war of lips and tongues.

I open my eyes to see a bead of sweat running down Tom’s forehead. I take my hand away from his dick for a second so that I can pull his shirt over his head and toss it on the floor next to my own. Once Tom is shirtless he looks at me, biting his lip and kind of half-smiling. Everything pauses.

“Mark, I want-” his eyes are bright but his words are nervous. I smile at him, and he continues. “Mark, I have a condom, and I was wondering-“

I just nod at him, now grinning, and he smirks back, reaching over my head to open the drawer beside the bed to pull out a small, square package and a bottle of lube. I watch nervously as he slides the rubber over his erect cock, stoking my own gently to ensure that I stay fully aroused.

“Do you want to be on your back or stomach?” Tom asks, kindly and reassuringly.

“I want to be able to see you, I’ll stay on my back.” His crooked smile returns, and I can’t help but think that I have never been more attracted to him than in this moment, his hair messy and his body gleaming with sweat. I want to be with him forever, I decide.

“Ready?” Tom inquires. I nod silently.

Tom, grabbing the lube and squirting it onto his fingers, breathes heavily. I grab his cock and tug it in time with the hand on my own. I inhale sharply as Tom’s index finger enters me slowly.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Tom very slowly begins to slide his finger in and out, in and out, until it begins to feel almost pleasant. I catch his eye and nod, and one finger is increased to two. He follows the same pattern, stretching me out with slow, delicate movements until two fingers easily move within me.

I’ve made sure to only tease Tom, so that when he finally gets his cock in my ass, he’ll be able to hold out a little longer. Tom grabs a pillow and puts it under my butt so that I am elevated and he can get in easily. He takes his length from my hand into his own and guides it to my entrance. I watch as he pushes the tip in, wincing when it starts to hurt. He stops and looks at me. I press my lips together and nod again.

Tom slowly, very slowly, pushes until he is almost all engulfed. Then he slowly pulls back again. He repeats the motion, getting faster and faster each time. It still hurts, but it is bearable. I start stroking my own cock again, but Tom quickly pushes my hand away, instead tugging me himself, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

It doesn’t take long until I can feel myself getting close to orgasm. Tom’s thrusts have gradually gotten faster, and I have eased to a point where there is only slight pain, and now slight pleasure. It hasn’t reached the point where Tom can go deep enough or quick enough to reach my prostate, but I’m sure that will come in time. I imagine that we will be intimate a lot more often now, and the thought makes me smile.

I feel the pulls of my orgasm and a moan escapes from my lips. Tom begins pumping and thrusting faster, and soon he is grunting with his own climax. I shudder as I cum in Tom’s hand, and he bends over as his own cum shoots into the rubber inside of me.

He pulls out and leans in to kiss me, this time slowly and tenderly.

“Thank you,” he whispers in my ear before grabbing tissues from the side table and cleaning us both up.

After throwing away the condom and wiping away the sweat, Tom and I climb under the sheets and I curl up next to him, the little spoon, protected by his arm across my torso. I fall asleep with his breath in my ear and his body against mine. I fall asleep happy.

#tomark #tomark fanfic #tomark fan fiction #tomark fanfiction #tomark fic #pleasetakemehome

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Please Take Me Home - Chapter 11

Actually updating on time for once. I'm going to try and update at least once a week from now on.

My heart feels like it is going to burst out of my chest. I drop the bottle in my hand and it shatters at my feet, soaking my shoes and filling the air with the stench of alcohol. I don’t even flinch; too shocked by what I see behind the door.

In front of me sits Josie, perched on the edge of the bed, lips pursed and arms folded. Tom stands off to the side, his back turned, head in his hands.

“Great timing, Mark, I was just asking your friend here when he expected you.”

Everything is silent, except for a buzzing that is growing louder in my ears. I can’t move, can’t breathe. I stare straight at Josie, and I see that look in her eyes that I hate. That look that says she’s about to do something mean, something evil.

“Okay, fine. I’ll do the talking then.” Josie stands up from the bed and walks over to Tom. She puts a hand around his shoulder and tries to pull him around to face me. He lets his hands fall and I can see a look of complete terror on his face. Josie smiles at him, the kind of horrible fake smile that is reserved only for malice. Then she pushes him onto the bed.

The buzzing in my head stops as I begin to feel the rage erupt inside of me. I don’t what she’s already said or done to Tom, but she will not treat him like that.

I take a step towards her and open my mouth to scream at her. But she matches my movement, stepping into me and pressing a finger to my lips. I know I cannot react, because I refuse to be the one who starts a fight. So I just stand still, waiting for her to back off. Instead, she shoves me in the chest, and I spill back onto the bed, my hand reaching out behind me as I fall. It lands on Tom’s leg. As soon as I hit the bed I pull my arm away, but not before Josie sees what happened.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” she screams at me.

I am shocked and terrified, but also aware that the door is open and her voice is loud. I glance over to the entrance; a move I realise is a bad idea when Josie starts yelling again.

“Oh, are you embarrassed, Mark? Are you scared someone might hear me?” I am, I am very scared. “Maybe you should have though about that before you started fucking a dude behind my back!”

So she knows. I wonder if Tom told her, or if she saw something. I wonder how she got here, and why Tom let her in. I wonder what will happen next, and what is going to happen to Tom and I.

I’m starting to sweat, nervous that anyone could walk past and recognise me. Nervous that Josie is going to do something bad, nervous that Tom is going to get hurt.

Josie is visibly raging. He chest rises and falls frantically and her eyes are wide with anger. Her hair falls into her face as her pupils dart around wildly. She looks over at the door, then back at Tom and I. I don’t know why she changes her mind, but she strides over and slams the door, isolating the three of us entirely from the rest of the world.

I really did not think it would come to this. I thought we’d been careful, I thought that we were safe. Secret meetings in each other’s buses while everyone else ate or slept. Small kisses behind trees when no one was looking. The grazing of hands as we walked past each other. I thought we were okay.

I can feel Tom next to me. I don’t look at him, knowing that would upset Josie, but I lean, ever so slightly, towards him, letting him know that I am on his side.

Josie marches back over to stand in front of us. She puts her hands on her hips and seems to calm down slightly. Then she directs her attention towards only me, and grins viscously.

“Mark, my one true love,” Her voice is slow and even, but I know she’s about to let rip, “The one I ruined my entire life for. You, my dear, have made a big mistake. Actually, you’ve made a lot of mistakes, and you’re going to regret them. I promise. Just like you promised me ‘forever’, right?”

My hands start to shake in my lap, and my heart rate reaches a dangerous peak. I’m not going to talk. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. I just watch Josie pace in front of me, and wait for her to speak again.

“Let’s start with mistake number one, shall we?” Her voice is still smooth and calm; she seems to be getting into a rhythm. “Let’s go back to three years ago. Three years ago, Mark, you asked me to move in with you. That was your first mistake. Why make such a commitment if you can’t keep it. You promised me we would be together forever; you said it’s what you wanted. That’s clearly untrue.”

I can’t keep silent any longer.

“That was what I wanted, Josie! Three years ago I thought we would be together forever. But things cha-”

She cuts me off with a yell louder than anything yet. “Shut up! Shut up and let me speak! Don’t talk again, just let me finish!”

The wild look is back in her eyes again, and I begin to feel sorry for her. She believes in a love that isn’t there anymore, and I feel like it’s my fault. Why wasn’t I clear? Why didn’t I end it? Why did I just assume she felt the same way? I am an idiot.

Josie takes a deep breath before she continues talking, slowly and deliberately now.

“Mistake number two: letting me believe you still loved me.” It’s all coming back to haunt me. “Mistake number three: not having the balls to tell me to go home when I showed up at your door. Mistake number four: cheating on me with this, this guy, and not being fucking smart enough to hide it properly.”

I’ve let my head droop, and I’m now looking at my hands as they grip each other tightly in my lap. I’m not going to be able to fix this, I’m just going to have to hope all that Josie wants is money or something material, and that she will stay quiet if I give her what she wants.

I’m still staring at my lap when I hear a very quiet “look at me” from Josie.

I tilt my head up but see that she is not looing at me, but at Tom. In the corner of my eye I see Tom lift his had and hear him take a deep breath. He doesn’t exhale.

“You, Tom, are an idiot. Surely you knew I was living in Mark’s bus? Surely you’re not stupid enough to just leave a note where I could find it? Surely, you knew I would read an undeveloped note to my boyfriend? Mistake number five: leaving this note in our bus, just sitting there for me to read.”

Josie throws a piece of paper at me and I unfold it slowly, scared that it’s going to be explicit or romantic. My fears go unrealised though, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I realise Josie knows less than I thought she did.

Mark,

I just realised I may not be in the room when you get there, so here’s a spare key. Can’t wait to see you.

Tom

I read the note three times, to make sure that I’m not missing any sexual overtures or hints that could be there. My heart is slowing and my head is clearing. Josie is just assuming things; she cannot know that we are in anyway more than just friends if this note is all she’s going on. I have the upper hand, finally, and I know how I’m going to use it.

I look up at Josie again, this time smiling. She looks taken aback, and my pleasure at having her cornered soars.

“Hey Josie, you know we’re not fuck buddies, right? Me and Tom?”

Josie squirms a little but seems adamant that she’s right.

“Don’t lie to me Mark. Secret meetings, those fucking smiles you too have whenever you see each other, you even fucking wink at him when you’re on stage, Mark.”

I laugh.

“Secret meetings because we’re writing music together and don’t want our band mates to know. Smiles because we have so many fucking in jokes from hanging out so much. Same with the winks. God, you’re naïve!”

Josie is getting worked up again. I can see the blood flowing to her cheeks, her face getting redder and redder.

“Okay Mark, explain the ‘can’t wait to see you’ on that note! That’s a bit fucking far for ‘just friends’!”

“I already said it! We’re close friends, we have a lot of inside jokes! That one’s not hard to figure out; we spend so much time together, we may as well be a married couple, so we act like it! It’s all a fucking joke!”

Josie is losing and we both know it. I just have to wait for her to admit defeat, and then I can get her out of my life for good.

“One of you is married! Maybe you should think about your actual wives and girlfriends for once! You’re neglecting me Mark, and it’s not fair.” Josie is crying now, but I can’t even feel a little bit sorry for her, especially when she’s calling her my wife. She knows that I never want to get married, especially not to her.

“Josie, we’re not fucking married, why would you even say that!”

“I know we’re not married, Mark. I’m not stupid! I was talking about Tom!”

I feel like I’ve hit concrete after falling a thousand feet, except that the pain of smashing into the ground isn’t going away. It’s like I just keep falling and smashing, falling and smashing.

I whip around to look at Tom, who has his head in his hands again. My head fills with that buzzing noise again and my body starts to shake. I allow myself a moment of shock before it registers that I can’t look upset. Not in front of Josie, who already knows too much.

I turn to look at her. I need her gone, and I need her gone now.

“Josie, you don’t matter anymore. You know I don’t love you, I know you know that! Stop pretending like this is some fairy-tale romance that needs saving. I can’t even have a male friend without you accusing me of having some sort of gay affair. I’m sick of this Josie. I need you out.” I try to control my voice, and I just hope that my shock at what she’s told me about Tom comes across as anger in my voice.

“Fuck you, Mark! You think I need you? I don’t fucking need you at all. I gave up my life for you and you treat me like dirt. I wanted this to work, I really did. But I guess you’re just too fucking selfish.” The tears are coming quickly now, and she struggles to get her words out in between sobs.

“Yeah, I am!” I don’t even have the energy to yell back at her now. I just stand there, looking at her. I take a long, deep sigh before I continue. “Josie, I’m going to spend the night here. By tomorrow morning, I want your shit out of my bus and I want you gone. There’s $1000 in the safe under the bed; you know the combination. Take it and leave. You can stay in my house until I get back, and then I want you gone from there too, do you understand?”

“Fuck you, Mark.” It’s the most grateful Josie can manage to utter as she turns and walks out the door and out of my life.

I watch the door for a long time after she’s gone. I can’t face him. I can’t look at him. I consider leaving, but as angry and hurt that I am right now, I want to hear the story.

When he whispers my name, I turn around, ready to up and leave if he doesn’t have a good excuse, or ready to spend the night, if he can find away to make this right.

#tomark #pleasetakemehome

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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omfg when will chapter 11 be up?!

No later than late next week!

#sweetmotherofskywalker

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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UGGGHH.. CLIFF HANGER!! But it's perfect, can't wait until next chapter :)

Hehe yep! Thank you! I'll try to have it up soon :)

#Anonymous

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Please Take Me Home - Chapter 10

Okay so I lied. I much prefer writing this fic to studying so you guys don't have to wait until next week (if any of you are still waiting after this long!). I'm not going to put the summary here anymore because ten chapters in I think we've all got the gist of it. Sorry for rambling, thank you for reading. Enjoy!

His voice wraps me up entirely and I feel as if I am floating. My body vibrates with the bass, and I close my eyes, pretending that it’s just me, him, and the music.

“Please stay, don't go

I got you now, are you curious?”

He pulls me, drags me deeper, grips me tighter. I can’t get enough of the feeling. I move towards his honeyed voice and open my eyes to see him flooded in light, everything else around him dull and unimportant.

He stands on the edge of the stage, arms out, like a divine statue made to be marvelled at by the masses. Except the crowd here is unsure of how to react to him and his strange new music. A few people sing along, already converts. A few raise their arms, enjoying the atmosphere. And a few pay no attention, chattering amongst themselves. But most people just watch. This is new for them. This music, this show, this strange stage presence in front of them is so unique, so different, that it’s hard not to be mesmerized.

Even after seeing this set a dozen times, I’m still in awe of Tom and this band.

I never got around to listening to Angels and Airwaves before the tour. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to listen to the music - I fully intended to - I just forgot. Even at our first show, I was so busy nervously checking over everything backstage that all I could hear of their set was a steady, thumping bass line.

Our second night of the tour, and I was passing by the stage on my way to meet a tech. I heard this voice, and I recognised it immediately as Tom’s. I hadn’t realised how late it was, so I was taken off guard, unaware that AVA were playing their set yet. I never made it to my destination. I stood in the wings for an hour, dumbstruck by Tom’s talent.

AVA is weird. Not bad weird, just different. The sound is epic, with these huge intros and outros and an eclectic mix of live guitars and computer programmed synths. The lyrics are spiritual, making you wonder and making you believe. The songs explore something bigger, something otherworldly. The music flows effortlessly, with Tom’s voice blending everything together in a perfect cocktail of sound and words.

Honestly, I would never have listened to this band on my own. My music taste, though I claim it to be wide, is really quite restrained. I listen to punk and indie-rock and not much else. I only listen to something new if someone tells me I have to. I cannot define what AVA is, but I know that I have never reacted so viscerally to something in my life.

I keep shuffling closer to the stage, careful to not let the crowd see me. I rest against an amp and nod my head in time with the rhythmic thumping of Atom’s bass drum. As the song draws to a close, Tom turns around and strides over to where I’m standing to grab a new guitar. He gives me a wink on the way over, and I smile widely at him.

“How ya doing?” Tom asks as he switches guitars.

“Good, dude. You guys are killing!”

“Thanks.” He smiles up at me as he crouches on the ground, adjusting the strings on his instrument.

There’s a moment of silence as I watch Tom get ready to head back on the stage. I give him a pat on the back as he strolls off to re-join his band. But he only walks two steps before he turns back towards me and cocks his head to the side, his lips sealed in a kind of questioning, hopeful smile.

“How about you come out and sing this one?” He sounds eager, but I’m surprised. I stare at Tom, open-mouthed, unsure of what to say or do. The offer excites me, and I know the next song, but I really don’t want to take any attention away from his band.

“Come on dude, just say yes so we can get out there, I’ve already taken way too long.” Tom looks over his shoulder at David who shrugs and mouths‘hurry up’.

I clench my eyes shut and try to choose a response. Yes or no. It’s not too hard of a choice.

“Uh, yeah, okay, I guess I could do it.”

“Fucking yeah you can!” Tom exclaims as he pushes me out onto the stage.

The crowd erupts and I hear one very distinct “Fuck yeah Mark!” from a very loud person up the front. Tom runs ahead of me and starts addressing the crowd.

“Everyone, this is my friend Mark. You might know him. I think he might be in band? I don’t think they’re very good,” That one incites some booing and I chuckle softly to myself, “Mark here’s going to sing this one with us!”

The crowd starts screaming again and David and Matt begin playing the intro to the song. Tom beckons me over to the microphone in front of him. I walk over and then freeze, completely unsure of what I’m supposed to do. I’ve never sung without an instrument before. I don’t know how to stand, what to do with my hands or where to look.

I resign to shoving my hands in my pockets and looking down, nodding my head slightly to the beat.

The intro of the song seems to go on forever, and suddenly I resent how much of a build up these guys put in their music. I glace at Tom, who gives me an encouraging wink and nod. I look out over the crowd, who are yelling and cheering enthusiastically. I hear the tempo pick up and get ready to sing.

“Forget the things that you own

And travel almost anywhere you can go”

I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been before. I don’t think my deep, smooth voice is lending itself to the song, written for Tom’s high and disjointed inflection. I look at him again and he smiles broadly. I keep going.

“Dance across the tree tips, set them ablaze

Soaking in their pleasant warm summer haze

And weeping on her streets and school city blocks

And finding streams on her while you're skipping rocks

And feeding on her touch as it will barely keep you alive”

As we move into the chorus, I am starting to get the feel of this song and this stage and this crowd. I begin to move a little, grabbing the microphone stand with both hands and singing louder and more confidently.

The crowd fills with screams again and I begin to enjoy myself. I sing the chorus, nowhere near as well as Tom does, but good enough. I start bouncing my knee in time with the music. I close my eyes and sing more passionately. I’m starting to get lost in the music again, and it feels good.

When the chorus is over I glance over at Tom, who is smiling crookedly at me. I indicate over to the other mic with a nod of my head. Tom strides back up to the front of the stage.

Before the next line, Tom mouths at me to keep singing.

“It can be so bold and so cavalier

To reach out to the fire her souls sending here”

We’re singing together, and it feels magical. Tom’s high, intense accent blends perfectly with my deep, calm one. I sing the next lines louder and clearer, and Tom harmonizes perfectly.

I feel the sound wash over us, isolating us from the thousands of other people in the room. We are connected; we are one. We sing and I find myself grabbing the mic and gravitating towards Tom. This is a new kind of performance. I know that I am singing well. I know that this song sounds good. I know that this is what live music is supposed to be like. I am at home, and it because I am with him.

I am now standing next to him, and I turn to him as we being the final lines of the song. My eyes hold his, telling him that what we are singing is true, that I mean it, one hundred per cent sincerely, and that I know he does too.

“If you're ever alone, then your heart will know

It can reach to mine, I'll be at your side”

Our voices, fitting together so perfectly, finish the song as one. We continue to look straight into each other’s eyes as the song dies out, and I don’t look away until the only thing I can hear is the distant noise of the crowd. Tom pulls me into a hug and whispers in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine and a flush of colour to my cheeks.

“Tonight. The hotel opposite here. Midnight. Room 182.”

“See you then.” I whisper back, before hurrying off stage.

I feel better than I have in years. The thrill of something new, of something special, takes over me. I feel like one of those kids in the crowd, hearing Angels and Airwaves for the first time and being blown away.

I watch the rest of AVA’s set and then perform my own; transferring my energy from earlier into one of the most exhilarating and best sets (+44) has ever performed.

By the end of the night, I am exhausted, wanting nothing more than to crawl into my own bed and pass out. But then I remember Tom’s preposition and my heart rate picks up. I am nervous and excited and giddy.

I rush to my bus and throw together an overnight bag. It’s not difficult to give an excuse to Josie. We’ve been fighting the entire week, and I just tell her I’m going to a hotel to be alone.

“Good” is all she manages to say, not even bothering to look me in the eyes as she shops online with my credit card.

I make a detour to pick up some booze before heading over to join Tom. When I finally reach the door of room 182, I take a moment to breathe. I think about who awaits me inside and smile. Tom is the only thing I want in my life. I want to be with him all the time. I want to hold him and kiss him and listen to him. I want to make music with him and I want to make a life with him. I am no longer confused about my feelings. I’m in love with Tom DeLonge, and I just hope he loves me back.

I push the door open and gasp.

#tomark #tomark fan fiction #pleasetakemehome

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Dear God, that soul entertainer You call a fanfiction —which is your most exquisite creation ever— is an utter blessing for humankind as a whole. We need more. Sincerely, your devoted worshipper

Well this is the greatest message I have ever received.

#Anonymous

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Lovely followers/readers:

Sorry I haven't updated in ages but I've been super busy with exams. Good news though. I have a bunch of fic ideas for both one shots and chaptered fics, and Please Take Me Home will be updated as soon as I finish exams. Thank you for reading and I'm so sorry I've been such a terrible updater!

#I finish on november 11 so i'll pretty much start writing again straight after that

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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AAAAAAH!!! When are you coming out with a new chapter?? I love 'Please Take Me Home'! You should see how I fangirl over it,haha, it's so embarrassing.. But that indicates the fic is AAAWESOME! Ahh, I love you..

Thank you so much!I have important exams coming up so I'm not sure if I'll time in the next couple of months but I love writing this fic so much so I'm going to try to make an effort.Thank you for reading :)

#Anonymous

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Ha, it's about time you opened yourself up for anonymous admiration ;) keep 'em chapters coming!

Hehe thank you!

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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I just realised I had anon turned off. It's on now, so if you want to send me anon hate or anything, you can!

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Please Take Me Home - Chapter 9

Summary: Mark’s band, (+44) are headlining are a major tour, with Angels and Airwaves opening for them. Mark becomes close with the Angels and Airwaves frontman, Tom, and things start to heat up between the pair.

Wow, look at me updating twice in two days instead of once in two weeks!

She’s with me all day. She follows me to rehearsal, to lunch, to sound check, even to the bathroom. No matter how many times I suggest she goes back to the bus or stays with the other girlfriends, she refuses to leave, holding on to my arm like a small, totally dependent child.

The knot that formed in my stomach after I read Tom’s note doesn’t go away. My thoughts are constantly on him. I just want to find him and explain. I want him to know that he’s the one I want, that he’s the one I care about. But I can’t. I can’t tell him these things because they would scare him away. I don’t even know what I have with him. Maybe he thinks we’re just some kind of friends-with-benefits deal, or that we were just mucking around out of boredom and loneliness. All day I wonder what he is thinking. All day I yearn to be able to ask him. But I don’t see him, at least not until late at night, after Josie’s gone to sleep and I am able to sneak out of my bus.

I’d figured out which bus was his during the day. I knew he was sharing with Matt, his band’s bassist, because they were the only two without girlfriends, so all I had to do was casually ask Matt at lunch witch bus was his.

I quietly close the bus door behind me and step out into the cool night air. I walk briskly towards Tom’s bus, looking around to make sure that I’m not spotted. Everyone seems to be quiet inside their warm shelters. When I get to the bus I pause outside the door, listening for any signs of life. I hear the low murmur of a TV and freeze.

This is where my plan ends. I hadn’t thought about what I was going to do once I got here, I just knew that I had to find a way to speak to Tom.

I think about what to do next. If I’m lucky, and it’s Tom up watching TV, the next part will be easy. But if it’s Matt, I’ll have to come up with a pretty good excuse as to why I’m barging into his bus at one a.m. All I can do is hope for the best. I take a deep breath and open the door.

I let the air out of my lungs in a long sigh when I see Tom, legs tucked up underneath a blanket and shitless, turn towards me. He doesn’t jump at my unexpected entrance but instead motions for me to stay quiet and points towards the door. I assume he doesn’t want me to wake up Matt. I stand still as Tom grabs a thick hoodie from the floor and pulls it over his head. He walks towards me and then puts a hand on my arm and guides me out the door.

I don’t say anything as he leads me away from the buses towards a small playground built for the kids of the musicians that play at this venue. His hand remains on my arm the entire way, and its presence is comforting and calming.

We reach the play equipment and Tom sits down on a small raised platform, patting the space next to him. I sit next to him, close enough so that our arms are touching.

“Hi.” He doesn’t sound surprised or angry or any one of the other things that I thought he would be. He says it simply, like he’s just answered the door to me after inviting me round to watch a football match.

All I can say back is a simple, “Hey”, and we fall into a slightly awkward silence.

We sit, unspeaking, for a long moment. I kick gravel around with my feet and fiddle with my hands while I try to find the right words. My mind is brimming with things I want to say, but none of them seem to fit. I just want to tell him how I feel, but I’m too scared that it would be too much, and too soon.

I’m thinking about how to explain Josie to him when he puts his hand on my thigh, moving it in slow circles. The gesture is not sexual, it doesn’t have an ulterior motive, it just seems to be to show that he is comfortable.

I look up and into Tom’s eyes. He smiles at me.

“I knew you would do the right thing, Mark.” I don’t even have time to understand what he’s said because he’s leaning in and kissing me. It’s not ferocious or urgent, just a kind, tender peck. He leans back and my brow creases in confusion.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“I mean I knew you would make the right decision. Mark, from the moment I met you I knew you were a good person. You have kind heart, and it shows. You weren’t about to let your girlfriend go home with a broken heart and no job. You’re too nice.”

Tom is still smiling and his words sound sincere. I don’t doubt that he doesn’t mean what he says, but it’s still difficult to take in. I want to believe that he cares about me, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’m finally about to say something, but Tom speaks first.

“Mark, I just need to know, do you love her?”

Now is where I need to act. I need to tell him how I feel, or I risk losing him. If he thinks he is going to be getting in the way of something else, he’ll back off. He’s a good man, too.

“No. And I haven’t for a long time. Tom, you need to understand that I thought our relationship was over. And I thought she knew that, too. I didn’t expect us to last longer than a month apart. I thought I would get the call to say that she was moving out and that she wouldn’t be there when I got home. I never, ever, thought she would come out here and try and fix things. For me it ended months ago, and I’m so ready to move on. Tom, I want to move on with you”.

I say it all very fast in an attempt to make it easier for myself, like ripping off a Band-Aid so that the pain is quick. But this isn’t painful. I feel a weight lifted from me as I say the words that I’ve been dying to say. I’m not scared of rejection anymore because Tom has proved he cares maybe as much as I do.

“Mark, I’d like nothing more than to help you move on.”

Tom’s smile widens to a grin. I bite my bottom lip and beam back at him. I move my hands to his face and pull him closer. I smell his apple shampoo as I press my lips to his. We move in synch, and soon I have him pressed down against the platform while I lean over his taut body. The kiss is passionate, but soon our grins turn to laughter and we don’t have enough air to laugh and kiss and stay alive at the same time. I pull Tom back up and into an embrace.

“How about we pick this up tomorrow?” I whisper into his ear.

“That sounds perfect.” Tom replies. “We’re just going to have to learn to be sneaky until we figure out what to do with that damn girlfriend of yours.”

I giggle as we untangle from each other and make our way back to the buses. We share a final goodnight kiss at his door and I walk back towards my own bus feeling relieved and happy and excited about the possibilities of this new relationship.

#updating because i'm avoiding studying #enjoy #tomark #pleasetakemehome

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Please Take Me Home - Chapter 8

Thanks for reading :)

The first bangs aren’t loud enough to wake me but they seep into my dreams, muffled and distant and only slightly unnerving. There’s a pause as my dream-self registers the new noise, and then the banging continues and I wake with a start.

I sit up and immediately panic as I register the mostly naked body beginning to rouse next to me. The bedroom door rattles but I am relieved to realise that whoever is knocking has not yet entered the bus.

It seems to be urgent; the banging is loud and fast, the kind that is reserved for emergencies or outbursts of anger. I look at Tom, whose eyes are wide and worried. I put a finger to my lips, asking him to stay silent as I move toward the window. I pull back the curtain and quickly glance outside. My heart drops.

Josie is standing on the top of the little portable stairs that lead to the door of the bus. It’s raining, not heavily but enough that her uncovered blonde hair is beginning to look dark and straggly. I close the curtain and turn to Tom. He sees the look on my face takes a deep breath. A line appears between his eyebrows and he looks scared. His face starts turning white and I imagine that my own face is even whiter.

“Mark….” Tom says slowly, putting his hand on my leg in a gesture that I guess is meant to be comforting.

I don’t answer him. I’m trying to think. I need to either get Tom out without Josie seeing (almost impossible) or come up with some excuse as to why I’m sleeping in bed with another guy.

“Mark, who is it?” He sounds desperate, and the look of concern on his face is killing me.

“It’s….” I’m struggling to find the words. I don’t want to make him angry or jealous but I don’t want to lie to him. He knows I have a girlfriend. Maybe he thought I would have broken up with her by now; it’s not like I’ve ever said anything nice about her in front of him. Whatever I have with Tom has moved so fast, I haven’t had time to think about it and what it means for me. Before last night, I was too scared to even admit that it was real. I’m just hoping he understands.

I should have broken up with Josie a long time ago. Before I left. It would have given her time to process it without having to see me everyday. It would have been for the best. She would have been able to live at mine until she found a new place, and by the time I finished touring the relationship would have been all but forgotten. But I didn’t do it. I didn’t want to deal with the drama. I didn’t want to to deal with dividing out belongings, or having to tell my mom. So as much as I’ve wanted to break up with Josie, I just didn’t. And now that is my biggest regret.

“It’s my girlfriend.”

Tom flinches and pulls his hand away from my leg. I see him gulp and his face flushes red.

“Tom, I’m really sorry about this, I had no idea she was coming, but we have to do something.” I’m pleading with him now, hoping he can think quicker than me and has already come up with some way to get us out of this situation. He looks up at me and I can in his eyes that he’s hurt. My heart melts but I don’t have time to dwell.

“Tom, please, I need your help here!” My whispers are frantic as I look at him, pleading.

He looks at me sadly, giving me the tiniest shake of his head, before he starts talking.

“Alright. Get some clothes on, and try to help me find mine, it’s more important that I’m dressed first.”

He opens the bedroom door and starts grabbing clothes off the floor. I just stand there, listening to the continued banging on the door, too panicked to move. Tom hisses at me to wake up as he continues to dig around in the mess of the bus. I finally snap out of my stupor and begin pulling on the jeans and shirt Tom is throwing at me. I watch as Tom dresses himself and finds a blanket in the cupboard. He throws himself down on the couch and tells me to go to the door.

I take one last glance at Tom, who has very successfully begun to feign sleep and walk towards the door. I squint my eyes slightly and rub them, making sure I look like I woke up 30 seconds ago.

When I open the door, Josie does not smile, she just shakes her head and pushes past me into the main part of the bus where Tom lies on the couch.

“Took you long….” She begins before I shush her and point to Tom, whose chest rises and falls with his deep, convincing breaths.

Josie whips her head around, looks at Tom, turns back to me, and hisses as she walks towards me “Who the fuck is that?”.

“Hi Josie” I say with a slight sigh.

“Mark, who is the guy in the couch?”

I just look at her, cocking my head slightly as I wonder why I ever liked her in the first place. She clicks her tongue and glances back at Tom, frowning disapprovingly.

I sigh again and frown as Josie arches her eyebrows.

“That’s Tom, Josie. He’s from Angels and Airwaves, the band that opens for us. We had some drinks last night after the show and I said he could crash here. Is that a problem?” I say it all vey calmly and, hopefully, convincingly.

Josie doesn’t’ answer, instead turning and walking into the bedroom, beckoning for me to follow her. I take one last look at Tom, who gives me a slight, encouraging smile, before trailing in behind her. Once we’re in, she shuts the door and sits on the bed.

“Why haven’t you called Mark?” For once she doesn’t sound angry, just disappointed. “It’s been a week, and all I’ve had is one text. It’s not fair, Mark. It’s just not.” Her voice is soft, but she won’t look me in the eye, instead choosing to stare at the back of her hands and the ring I gave her on our last anniversary.

“What do you mean it’s not fair? You haven’t called me either. This is a two-way relationship, you can’t just expect me to put in all the work.” I don’t understand exactly what’s going on right now, but I’m trying my best to seem like it’s hurting me. Don’t get me wrong, it does hurt me to see her in pain, but I won’t take all the blame for something that is her fault as well.

“Mark, I drove all the way here to see you. I drove most of the night.” She finally looks at me and I can see that her eyes are brimming with tears.

I thought that we were both in the same place. I stopped caring about this relationship months ago, and I thought she did, too. I was just waiting for one of us to have the courage to end it officially.

“Josie, what do you want me to say? I can’t change what’s going on here. You refused to quit your job, and I have to tour. We said that we would make it work, and if it’s not working what can we do?” My voice is strong as I realise that this is not going to be that hard. We’re finally breaking up and all I feel is a sense of long-overdue relief.

There’s a pause as Josie looks into my eyes, and I sense that something bad is about to happen.

“Mark, I quit my job.” She says it as a whisper, and I almost don’t make sense of it. But when I do, I am shell-shocked.

“What?” My voice has lost its firmness and a sense of dread fills my body,

“I quit my job to be with you. I’ve been thinking it over all week, and I know that we won’t last if we try to do this long-distance, so I yesterday I quit and I packed up the car with a bunch of my stuff and I drove all the way here.” Josie speaks fast, like saying it quickly will make it into a better decision. But I can tell she has her doubts, and the dread turns to anger.

I can’t believe this is happening. My heart pounds faster and faster with every second that passes. I think of Tom in the other room and I just want to scream at Josie. I want to tell her she can’t just do that. I want kick her off the bus. I want her to go home. I want her out of my life altogether. I don’t want this relationship anymore. I want Tom.

“Mark, please say something.”

“Did you really quit your job?” I try to subdue my anger by looking away from her but it doesn’t work and the question comes out like an accusation.

“Mark, please don’t be angry. I know I should have said, I know I should have thought it through more, but I did it for us!” Tears spill onto her cheeks as she stands up and tries to grab my hands. I turn away and close my eyes, trying to make sense of what is happening.

“I love you, Mark. I just want us to be happy.” Her words do nothing to comfort me; they only make my head burn hotter and my heart beat faster.

“Are you trying to tell me that you want to live on this bus with me?” I try to say it calmly, but it comes out like a growl.

“Well, I hoped…” She’s given up on trying to hold my hands and is back to fiddling with the ring I now wish I had never given her.

“But you didn’t think to ask me first?” My word are pouring out as the realisation that she’s here and wanting to live with me sinks in.

“Mark, don’t you want us to work this out?”

“I don’t know, Josie! I don’t know what I want! And I wish you had asked me first. You can’t just spring this stuff on me and expect me just to be okay with it just because you say that you love me!”

“I don’t expect you to be okay with it because I love you! I expect you to be okay with it because you love me.” She’s screaming at me and tears roll down her face and on to her collar.

“Well you really shouldn’t have, Josie.” I speak normally again, and look directly at her, trying to get her to realise that I don’t want her here.

She stares back, mouth open, her face wet. We look at each other for a long, intense moment before her face completely crumples. She starts sobbing and covers her face with her hands. She takes a step backs and sits on the bed weeping quietly but fiercely. I try to resist comforting her but it gets too much, and I sit down next to her and place an arm around her shoulders. I put a hand to her face and shush her. I know that I have to make a decision, and I know that I have to do the right thing, no matter how much I might hate whatever that is.

“Josie, I’m sorry. Of course you can stay with me. I was just shocked, I needed time to let it sink in.” In this moment I hate that I am a man with a moral code, a man who could never let someone make such a huge sacrifice and then turn them away. I hate myself. “I’m sorry, Josie.”

She just continues crying and I continue to sit there, rubbing her arm and thinking about how a morning that should have been perfect turned into this. I think about Tom, and wonder if he is still in the bus. I tell Josie that I am going to get us breakfast and leave the bedroom.

Tom is gone but I see a small piece of paper on top of the neatly folded blanket he’s left on the couch. I take a deep breath as I read.

‘Mark, I didn’t stay long enough to hear whether she is staying or not. Either way, I don’t want to get in the middle of anything. Have a good show tonight. Tom.’

For the first time this morning, I feel as if I may cry.

#tomark #pleasetakemehome

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tomark182fics · 11 years

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Please Take Me Home - Chapter 7

If I was nervous before, it was nothing compared to how I feel now.

Usually I would be on such a high right now, the first show of the tour over, an incredible hometown crowd and only one or two fuck-ups throughout the set. I should feel ecstatic, elated, but all I feel are the butterflies in my stomach.

I’m dripping with sweat and the outdoor show has left me feeling slightly dirty. The guys and I share a quick hug and a few high-fives backstage before handing our stuff over to the roadies and moving off, exhausted, to our separate buses. I pull my sweat-drenched shirt over my head and walk half-naked toward my mobile home. I move slowly, thinking about what awaits me when I get there.

When I finally reach my bus I take a moment to close my eyes and breathe. I’m nervous and unsure that inviting Tom over was a good idea. I remind myself that this is what I wanted, that I was the one that made this happen.

I open my eyes and pull open the door. Sitting on the couch is Tom, who turns his head away from the TV and smiles at me as I walk in. His hair is slightly damp and I see a towel hanging on the bathroom door handle. He looks refreshed and calm, and his thin, white cotton shirt clings tightly to his chest. He has never looked more attractive.

Suddenly I’ve forgotten any reservations I may have had before. I practically leap towards him but he throws his arms out as I’m about to land on top of him on the couch. I bounce off him and he laughs.

The feeling that I’ve gone too far or done something wrong returns. I look at Tom, confused and a little hurt.

“No offence, Mark, but you’re disgusting” He laughs, looking at me like I’m a muddy dog. I look down at my shirtless torso and see the gleam of sweat.

“Right. Shower. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” I wink at him and he grins back at me, sending a shiver down my spine, a shiver that is becoming very familiar.

Once I’m in the bathroom, I strip down and hop into the shower. The hot water calms what is left of my nerves as I take my time making sure I’m clean and decent.

When I get out of the shower I study myself in the mirror above the sink. My hair has gotten reasonably long and I usually style it high and pointy. While it’s wet however, it flicks down into my eyes and makes me look like kid who wouldn’t sit still in the barber’s chair. I do my best to get it to stand upright but resign to moulding it into a messy pile on top of my head. I sigh before turning around to grab my towel of the rack.

But it’s not there. I think back and realise that Tom must have used it, which means it hanging on the other side of the door.

Shit. I was relying on that towel to get me past Tom so I could fetch some clean clothes. Now I have nothing but the sweat drenched pile on the floor, and putting that back on would make the shower a waste of time. I sigh as I realise I’m going to have to ask Tom for some help.

“Hey, Tom?” I try to sound casual but my voice cracks ever so slightly on the last syllable. I hear some shuffling and it takes him a moment to answer.

“Yeah, what’s up?” His voice comes directly from the other side of the door, scaring me slightly. “Wait, I know. You didn’t take any clothes in with you and your towel’s out here, right?”

“Umm, yeah. Do you think you could like, turn your back or something while I grab a fresh towel from the cupboard in there?”

“Yeah, dude. Of course.” He sounds like he’s smiling, maybe snickering at my awkwardness. I wait for a couple of seconds and for his shuffling to stop before I slowly push open the door. I can’t see him in the bus at all. He must have gone outside.

The curtains are drawn so I don’t bother covering up as I quickly walk over to the small closet next to the TV. I’m almost there when I feel hands grab my waist and lips against my neck.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Tom, get off! You scared the shit out of me!” I struggle to get free of him, mindful that I am stark naked and dripping wet.

Tom chuckles against my neck and pulls me closer and tighter.

“Tom, for fucks sake! I’m naked!” The shock of the scare has made me angry, and I just want to have a chance to cover myself. I knew what asking him here tonight might have meant but this is moving way too fast.

“Shhh” he murmurs against my skin, “Calm down, Mark.”

As I continue my struggle to get free I see a throw on the couch and reach down and grab it. Now that my junk is at least covered, I simmer down slightly, only struggling with half my strength.

“That’s better.” As he says it, he unlocks his arms from around my waist and starts moving his hands up my chest. “I’m sorry Mark, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His touch and soft voice are soothing and I relax into him. I feel less exposed, his touch feels natural, and I sense that he is enjoying being in control.

“There we go” his words are barely audible as his lips become busy sucking at my neck, sending a spasm of instant pleasure around my entire body.

His hands begin move all over my torso, massaging my chest, caressing my shoulders and rubbing my stomach. His mouth moves from my neck to my collarbone and I let out a soft groan of contentment.

As his touching and kissing becomes more passionate, I feel myself getting more and more worked up and it doesn’t take long before my cock is completely hard underneath the thin throw. It’s still confusing that a man could do this to me but I close my eyes, absorbed in the heat of the moment as I drop the throw from one of my hands and slowly start stroking my growing length.

Tom is now pressed up behind me, his hips moving slowly in time with his caresses. His crotch is pushed up against my naked ass, and as I rub my own dick, I can feel his growing harder and harder in his pants.

In one swift movement I drop the throw completely and turn to face Tom. I bob down and begin unbuckling his belt. I feel his hand in my hair and hear his soft moan.

“If I’m going to be naked, you have to be too” I assert to him, my voice a soft growl. “Take your shirt off.”

He does as I say, and right as his shirt comes over his head I get his fly unzipped and pull his dark, skinny jeans down to his ankles.

I decide to tease Tom a little before I give him what he so clearly wants. I stand up and pull his face close to mine. I force our lips together and control the movement of our mouths. I go slowly at first, no tongue, but my more primal urges get the better of me and soon I am desperately licking and thrusting, one hand in his hair and one on his firm ass. I push him backward and corner him up against a wall. He’s giving in, letting my take over. I squeeze his butt one more time before I move my hand round to his front and begin stocking his hard dick over his boxer-briefs.

Suddenly Tom bites down on my lip and a small groan escapes him. I lift my hand and put in on the inside of his underwear, grabbing his cock and softly moving my hand up and down.

“Oh fuck, Mark!” His head in resting on my shoulder and I barely hear the quiet, pleading words.

I begin moving faster and start sucking on his neck, receiving more moans in return.

I’ve all but forgotten about my own needs as I focus solely on pleasuring Tom when I feel a soft touch on my own dick. Tom’s handwork starts slowly, matching the pace of mine. I kiss his neck and he nibbles my ear. I move my other hand to his waist and he kisses me again. We become more and more entwined, and more and more desperate for each other’s touch. Our hands start moving faster, stoking and tugging and matching each other’s pace perfectly. I can feel myself ready to boil over, ready to climax as I move even faster, hoping Tom will keep matching my speed. I groan, this time loudly as I feel the orgasm take over my body. My grip on Tom’s waist tightens and I stop moving my other hand. I bite down on Tom’s shoulder as I cum. My body trembles and I close my eyes, blissfully content. As my orgasm ends and my cock begins to stop throbbing I relax into Tom’s body, resting my forehead on his and breathing deeply. I’m lost in my own ecstasy until Tom’s desperate voice brings me back to reality.

“Mark, I need….”

I’d forgotten about Tom’s needs.

“Sorry” I whisper to him as I begin to move my hand, extra quickly this time, up and down his shaft. His breathing gets shallower and faster as I suck his neck and lick his collarbone. I work him until I feel his cock pulsating in my hand. His own orgasm is silent, but I can see the blissful look on his face as he leans back against the wall and cums into my hand. I finish him completely before grabbing the towel off the bathroom door and cleaning up our mess. I throw the towel toward the bin and feel Tom’s hands grab either side of my face.

“Thank you” he whispers before leaning in and kissing me softly.

I smile up at him.

“Shower?” I ask

“Yes. Shower.”

We have a long, cool shower together. There’s some kissing but no touching. It’s gentle and relaxing. We dry off with new towels from the cupboard and I lend Tom some underwear to sleep in.

“So, are you going back to your own bus?” I ask the question but I don’t really want to give him the option. I want him here with me.

“Uh, well….” He looks down at the ground, clearly hoping for me to ask him to stay.

“Stay.”

“Okay.”

I open the door to the bedroom and climb under the covers of the large bed. I remember the last time we slept together in this bed and smile. Tom must be thinking the same thing because he catches my eye and grins. Together we laugh as he gets into the bed next to me and assumes the position of the big spoon. I fall asleep, the most comfortable I’ve ever been and do not wake until the loud banging starts the next morning.

#tomark #tomark fanfiction #pleasetakemehome

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