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“A toast,” Mark raised his glass, looking down at the guests from his place on the stairs. “To old friends.” Each person took turns raising their glasses, taking a swig to seal the toast.
Mark's eyes fell on Damien, whose gaze hung, deep in thought. Mark made his way down the few steps, maneuvering through the familiar faces — sure to greet each one as he slid past them. Eventually, he made it to Damien, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Glad you could make it, Damien.” Mark reached out and clinked his glass against the mayor's unsuspecting one, a smug grin plastered to his lips. He glanced down at Damien's beverage, then locked eyes with him again. Mark's eyes squinted in amusement. “Bit odd to be toasting with water, though. Isn't it?”
Damien looked down at his glass, tracing a finger anxiously along the rim. “I just want to pace myself. I'm sure we'll be having drinks later tonight, so I'd like to enjoy my evening while I can still remember it.” He gave an awkward grin. There was tension between them. The obvious elephant in the room hadn't been addressed.
Mark's hand slid off Damien's shoulder. “You know,” Mark brought the cup to his lips. “They say it's a bad omen. That you're bringing a watery grave upon yourself.” He finished his sentence with a sip of his wine.
Damien swallowed hard. How could Mark act as if nothing had happened? Though, it made sense — it was the man's profession, after all. Damien stuck a finger up and spoke low. “Mark, I really need to talk to—”
The actor patted him on the shoulder, cutting Damien off. “Come on, Damien. Let me get you a drink. The party is just getting started.” Before Damien could retort, Mark was already sauntering to the kitchen.
The mayor let out a disgruntled huff. He ran a hand over his hair, fixing a stray strand he hadn't even noticed was loose. He looked around the room, examining the faces of childhood friends. Added to the mix was an unfamiliar stranger — a detective. Why would Mark invite a detective? Certainly not to keep tabs on—
Damien's thoughts were interrupted by someone patting him on the back. Startled, Damien whipped around, gripping his cane a little tighter. It was just Mark. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Mark handed him a new glass full of wine. “That's more like it.” The actor grinned, his words coming out as a low purr. He slid his hand down to the middle of Damien's back, urging him to follow. “Come on, guys. Let's celebrate!”
As everyone moved to another room, Damien couldn't shake an odd feeling. His chest was tight and his stomach was doing somersaults. He just couldn't believe no one was discussing the incident. With a sigh, he joined the others in the game room, hoping a few drinks would take the edge off.
The others partied and chatted while Damien observed. His index finger circled the rim of his wine glass, watching as the crimson liquid rippled with every movement. The colonel, the detective, and the district attorney were busy playing a game of poker when Mark snuck to the side of the room Damien had inhabited. He took a seat next to Damien on the velvet couch.
“What’s going on, old friend?” Mark turned his body to face Damien. He adjusted his red, velvet robe — matching with the very couch they were sitting on. “You haven't had anything to drink, and you're sat all alone over here.”
Damien hesitated at first, fidgeting with the head of his cane. “I just find it odd that no one has mentioned the..” The words were stuck in his throat. It was a sensitive topic for Mark, but he couldn't shake this uneasiness. He swallowed hard, his words quiet as if to soften the blow. “The affair.”
Damien fully anticipated Mark to get upset or storm off, but he hadn't expected him to laugh. Mark leaned into the couch, slinging his arm over the back. “Of course you'd be stressed about something like that.” He shook his head, a low chuckle escaping his lips. “That's not what you're here for, Damien. Tonight, your one responsibility is to drink with some old friends.” Mark leaned in, his gaze intense. His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. “That's all I ask of you.”
The mayor gulped, squeezing his cane. He merely nodded in response. Mark leaned back and hummed in approval. “Good.” The actor held up his own glass for Damien to clink. “It'll be fun. I promise.” Damien obliged, toasting the wine glasses together, and taking a sip of the fruity beverage. Before he could pull his lips off the glass, he felt Mark tilting the bottom of his cup higher. “Come on, you can do better than that.” He purred.
Damien tried to grab Mark's wrist to stop him, but ultimately failed. He gave up, chugging the whole thing. Panting as he finished, he shot Mark a glare. Mark just grinned. “I promise.” He repeated, getting up and taking both wine glasses to the kitchen for refills.
Damien ran a hand through his hair. Something had gotten into Mark, but he couldn't pinpoint what was off. He decided to let it go. Mark was right — this was a lighthearted reunion and celebration — he shouldn't let minute things worry him. He focused his gaze back to the table, watching as the others shouted in victory and groaned in loss.
A smile dared to tug at Damien's lips as he watched the other men play. Clearing his throat, he stood up. He adjusted the sleeves of his suit, held onto his cane, and made his way to the kitchen.
There, he spotted Mark, who had already been pouring more wine for them. Damien smiled, moving closer to Mark. Glasses in hand, the other man moved closer to Damien. He was close — perhaps too close — but Damien couldn’t seem to care.
The actor handed him a drink, leaning in even further. Damien’s breath hitched as he felt the other’s nose graze his jaw. “Drink with me, Damien.” With a nod, the politician put the glass to his lips, watching Mark’s every movement carefully. He studied him like prey would analyze their predator. Mark had never behaved like this before — at least never toward him — but deep down, he loved the attention. For years, Damien had loved Mark — as a friend or something more, though, he could never tell. All he knew was that he cared deeply for the man.
Mark made his way back to the game room, sticking up a beckoning finger, urging the other to join. Damien followed close behind. He felt like his body was separate from his mind, watching from the sidelines as he obeyed Mark’s demands. What am I doing? Damien mentally slapped himself. He was a goddamn mayor for Christ’s sake — why was he mindlessly taking orders from this man? It didn’t matter now, the action was already in motion.
Damien watched as Mark joined the others in their game of Texas Hold'em. For a reason unknown, even to him, Damien could not keep his eyes off the actor. Like a young child with a crush, he felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. Heavy feet carried him closer to Mark. He needed to be near him.
Rubbing his face, Damien stood next to Mark. He tried collecting his thoughts, reeling in the sudden onset of strange feelings. It had been years since he felt this way — why now? What are you doing to me, Mark?
The game carried on while Damien observed. He'd always gotten more enjoyment out of watching rather than participating. A while had passed when Damien felt woozy and hot — very hot. He held on to the back of Mark's chair, grounding himself. With a small groan, Damien plopped into the nearest empty seat, holding his head in his hands.
Everyone but Mark seemed oblivious, continuing the game as if nothing had happened. It was odd. His friends were usually so observant, but tonight it was like he didn’t exist. Perhaps it was the alcohol or the intensity of their game — either way, it was strange. Mark leaned in, his focus shifting to Damien. “Are you alright?”
Damien could feel Mark’s eyes searching his face for an answer. He shook his head, rubbing his forehead. A warmth accompanied by a faint ache spread through his skull. “I-I think I’ve got a headache.” His words came out in an airy wince.
Mark let out a small laugh, patting Damien on the knee. “You never have been able to hold your liquor as well as the others.” His hand lingered on Damien’s leg, his fingers slowly trailing higher up the thigh as he leaned back to continue playing poker. Goosebumps formed in their path, the skin of the mayor’s leg tingling in their wake. A faint whimper escaped Damien’s lips, gasping at the sudden intense sensation. He held onto the seat below him as if his life depended on it.
The air left his lungs, both embarrassment and confusion swirling in his mind at once. He hoped and prayed no one else had caught wind of the noise. Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he attempted to regulate his rapid breathing. Why am I so sensitive..? What in God’s name is going on tonight?! He thought to himself.
Damien nervously glanced at Mark to assess the damage. Thankfully, it seemed like he had gone undetected — the others continued playing, completely unbothered. He looked back down at Mark’s hand which still resided on his thigh. He bit down on his lower lip, moving his knee ever so slightly, hoping it would send a signal to Mark for him to let go. Instead, Mark’s grip on his leg tightened, his hand sneaking lower. His fingertips grazed Damien’s inner thigh, earning a small, but louder gasp from the mayor.
Damien covered his mouth with his hand. Shooting up out of his seat, he sent the chair falling to the ground. The other guests stopped their fun, all eyes falling on Damien. His cheeks and neck reddened in shame. Without another thought, he turned on his heels and fled the room.
Damien wasn’t sure where his feet were taking him, but he didn’t really care. As long as he was out of that situation, he was alright. He slipped into the nearest bathroom, sure to lock the door behind him. Leaning against the door, he let out a sigh of relief, letting his head hang. He ran a hand through his hair, straightening up a bit.
Walking to the sink, Damien undid his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck. He glanced down, noticing the growing tent in his pants. He sighed, a faint blush crossing his cheeks. He was mortified.
“What has gotten into you, Damien?” He grumbled to himself, frustration laced in his tone. Hanging his head once more, Damien put his hands on either side of the sink, holding himself up. He ran through every scenario of why he could be acting like this, but to no avail.
A hand found its way to Damien's shoulder. He jumped at the touch, his body stiffening as he turned to face the intruder. It was Mark — it was always Mark.
Damien looked back at the door, still very much locked. He turned back to look at Mark. “How did you..?” His voice trembled, too stunned to finish his thought.
Mark stepped closer, backing him into the wall. His hands slithered up Damien's chest, resting on his shoulders. “Nevermind that. Want to discuss what happened back there?” Mark's voice was soft and sultry.
Damien gulped. “I-I don't know what's going on, Mark. This house is.. confusing me.”
Mark chuckled, his breath hot against Damien's neck. He was tantalizingly close. The mayor wanted so badly to lean in and close the distance between them. “Oh, it's not the house, Damien.” Mark's hands slid down, grabbing the loose tie, and wrapping his hands with it on either side. He gave the tie a tug, pulling Damien even closer. “I know you have a thing for me.” He purred, licking his lips.
Damien put his hands on Mark's chest, “W-what are you talking about?” He stuttered, embarrassed knowing he'd been caught.
“Don't play dumb.” Mark stuck his tongue out, giving Damien's neck a small lick. “You've had a crush on me for years. I know you were probably over the moon when you found out Celine and I were getting a divorce.” With another, longer lick, Mark trailed his tongue from Damien's collarbone to right below his ear. “Well, now you’ve got me. So, what are you going to do to me?”
Damien gave Mark's chest a gentle push, putting some much needed distance between them. “Mark, this is all so sudden. How am I supposed to know you're not just trying to get back at my sister?” He stared into the actor’s eyes, searching — begging — for even the slightest reciprocation of feelings. All he found was a glint of something unreadable behind those gorgeous brown eyes.
Mark didn’t say anything, just stared back into Damien’s eyes, a smug grin still plastered to his face. With a sigh, the mayor tried to push him away. He knew it was too good to be true — his childhood crush finally coming around. He couldn’t meet Mark’s eyes, too ashamed to face him. “You don’t have to do this.” His voice was quiet. Damien’s chest was tight, like every heartstring had been pulled and tugged until it snapped — all but one. No matter how much it hurt, Damien knew he could never let go of his feelings for Mark. “This is between you and my sister. Please leave me out of it.” Fighting back tears, he swallowed hard, trying to rid himself of that familiar lump in his throat.
“Oh, Damien.” Mark spoke in a breathy whisper. “This has nothing to do with her.” The actor pressed himself against the politician. Damien’s still-present bulge pressed against his stomach, earning a chuckle from Mark. He leaned in and licked right below Damien’s bottom lip. “I want you. If you’ll have me.” Those words — the ones Damien had dreamt of for years — had him weak in the knees. Damien felt his dick twitch at the sound of those simple words, knowing Mark felt it too.
Damien shut his eyes. Everything around him felt like it was spinning. He was overstimulated, and he didn’t know how to fix it. His skin felt like it was on fire, burning even further with every touch. His breathing was rapid, every pant hot and full of desperation.
Mark backed up just far enough to look Damien in the eye. “So, what'll it be?”
Damien swallowed hard again, opening his eyes to meet Mark's gaze. His eyes fell on the sight in front of him. Mark's red, velvet robe was cracked open, hanging off one shoulder, his collarbone on full display. Damien's attention moved to Mark's mildly messy hair, his imagination running wild as his mind flooded with vivid images of what it'd look like with his fingers tangled into it. Then, he examined Mark's facial features. Beautiful brown eyes with maintained brows to match, those incredibly kissable lips, and a subtle blush across his face that complimented his skin wonderfully. Mark was the very definition of perfection in Damien's eyes.
Unsure how to respond, Damien leaned in and kissed Mark. One hand snaked around to hold the back of Mark's head, the other rested on his chest. He could feel Mark melt into the kiss, giving his tie another tug.
Damien pulled away, just enough to look at Mark. He tried to look for any sign of discomfort. The actor caught on to what he was doing, grinning as he leaned in to bite Damien's bottom lip. Damien let out a small yelp, licking the spot Mark bit.
Mark kissed his way from Damien's cheek down to the sensitive part of his neck. The mayor panted and squirmed under his touch, holding onto Mark's waist for stability. Every kiss felt like sparks, more sensitive than ever before. His cock strained harder against the confines of his pants.
Mark smiled against Damien's neck. His fingertips danced their way down Damien's front until he landed at the obvious boner. He gave it a few gentle taps, earning a breathy whimper from the other man. Mark teased him, lightly circling his index finger over the clothed tip. “Desperate, are we?” Mark hummed, his mouth finding the sensitive spot once more. Using only the tip of his tongue, Mark traced circles into the skin.
Damien’s hips instinctively bucked up into the other's hand. He nodded, becoming a whimpering and panting mess. “Yes, Mark..” He bit his lip, choking back a moan.
Mark's grin widened hearing his name on Damien’s lips. He pressed his body against the mayor's, standing crotch to crotch. He pulled Damien in for a kiss, his hand on the back of his neck to hold him in place.
Mark nipped at Damien's bottom lip, demanding he let him in. Damien complied and parted his lips. Wasting little time, Mark slipped his tongue into his mouth. Their lips moved in perfect sync — tongues dancing together beautifully. Mark moved his hips, grinding against Damien. The other man moaned, following suit.
“Tell me how much you need me.” Mark growled against his lips, his movements painfully slow — it was almost too much for Damien.
“I need you, Mark.” Damien pulled away from the kiss and slid his hands down to Mark's robe. Slipping them under the fabric, he pried it open. Mark's length was on full display, having worn nothing underneath. His face reddened at the sight — Mark was gorgeous. His body was toned to perfection and his dick was just right, outlined with a neatly trimmed bush. It stood proud as it moved against Damien's pants. Without thinking, Damien reached out and touched it. He placed the palm of his hand along the shaft, his fingertips resting at the base. He held his hand in place as Mark grinded against it. “I've wanted this for so long.” He muttered.
Mark halted his hips, his nose scrunching as he fought back a moan. He let out a winded breath, holding onto Damien's shoulders for support. The mayor held him close, his hands boldly resting on Mark's bare ass below the robe. Watching Mark’s face twist in pleasure made Damien’s cock throb.
As if on cue, Mark was quick to tug on Damien’s belt, struggling to loosen it. He clawed at the politician’s shirt, urging him to strip. “I want you, Damien.” Mark spoke between kisses. “I want you so bad.” He started undoing Damien’s shirt, pulling each button more urgently than the last. Mark stepped back, putting just enough distance between them to start removing clothes. Stripping himself of his suit jacket and button-up shirt, Damien faltered. “Shouldn’t we..” He hesitated, too embarrassed to continue. “Shouldn’t we go to the bedroom?”
Mark went in for another kiss. “No.” His words were muffled as he spoke against Damien’s lips. “Let’s do it here.” Mark threw his robe off, leaving him completely naked.
Mark sank to his knees in front of Damien, his fingers finding the belt once more. He carefully unlatched it, sure to never break eye contact with the mayor. Finally getting the belt undone, Mark leaned in and grabbed the zipper with his teeth. Looking up at Damien, he pulled the zipper down, and dragged his tongue up the bulge in the other man’s underwear. The sight was incredibly arousing, but Damien felt panic rising in his chest. He put a hand on Mark’s shoulder, “I-I don’t..” Damien couldn’t finish his sentence, but Mark knew that meant he wasn’t into oral. Damien had always felt shy about receiving oral sex — he felt it was too disgusting, and that his privates were meant for more intimate matters.
Rising to his feet with a smug grin, Mark’s palm found itself hovering over Damien’s underwear. “Well, if you’re not in the mood, we can always stop.” His words were teasing — he knew how desperate Damien was, and that stopping was the last thing on his mind.
Damien pushed off the wall, slamming his lips into Mark’s. He backed Mark into the sink, his hands resting on either side of him. “Don’t. Want. To stop.” He panted into Mark’s lips. “Tell me you want this.” He whispered, his tone almost a plea — as if he were begging for proof that all of this was real.
Mark pressed his forehead against Damien’s, letting their breath mingle into one, hot sensation. He nodded, lifting one leg to give Damien easier access. “I want this, Damien.” The mayor pushed himself further between Mark’s thighs, feeling as if this was where he’d belonged his whole life. Scooping his arm underneath Mark’s propped up leg, Damien guided him to spread even more. The actor was surprisingly nimble, which just made it all the more fun. He looked down and smiled playfully. His eyes fell on soft and perfectly shaved legs. “Expensive.” Mark playfully hit Damien on the chest, a shy smile spread across his face.
“Keep saying my name.” Damien groaned, freeing his dick from its cloth prison. Giving Mark another kiss, he rubbed himself against the other's length.
Mark wrapped an arm around Damien's neck, using the other to keep himself balanced on the bathroom counter. “Damien..” He moaned, letting his head fall back. “Fuck, Damien..” Mark frantically pulled open a drawer below him, pulling out a conveniently placed bottle of lube.
Mark maneuvered to get down from the sink, earning a disappointed murmur from Damien. Mark chuckled and placed a reassuring, sweet kiss on the mayor's pouting lips. He grabbed Damien's hand, and placed the small bottle in his palm.
Mark turned around to face the mirror. He reached behind him and grabbed Damien's wrists. Pulling them forward, he led his arms to wrap around the actor. “There's nothing stopping you from taking what you want.” Mark hummed, enjoying the embrace.
Damien held Mark with one arm as the other hand mapped out the actor’s chest. “I just want you to want it, too.” The mayor gave Mark's neck a small kiss. “May I?”
Mark shivered at the question. Biting his lip, he gave a quick nod. He stooped toward the sink, his backside pressed against Damien's cock. The sound of the bottle popping open was music to Mark's ears. He looked back at Damien, watching as he coated his fingers with the viscous liquid. “Experienced, are you?” He purred with a mischievous smile.
Damien grinned and leaned down closer to Mark's level. “I suppose you'll just have to see.” He could see Mark's smile falter, obviously caught off guard by the daring comment. Damien chuckled and went in for another kiss — he had to admit, kissing Mark was his new favorite thing.
Without warning, he stuck his middle finger in, earning a small gasp from Mark. The liquid was cold, catching him by surprise by the sudden intrusion. Damien worked his finger in and out, starting with one, then two, and finally a third. He moved slowly so as to not hurt his beloved.
Once Mark was used to the sensation, Damien skillfully moved his fingers faster in search of that one special spot. He knew he hit it when Mark doubled over, holding onto the counter like his life depended on it. His moans became louder as Damien mercilessly hit his prostate over and over. “F-Fuck, Damien!”
The mayor grinned, satisfied with the effect he was having on the actor. He planted a kiss right between Mark’s shoulder blades. He slowly pulled his fingers out, earning a whimper from Mark.
Mark heard the bottle pop open again, anticipating what it entailed. Damien poured more of the clear liquid into his hand, completely covering his hard-on. He hissed at the cold, letting out a small moan as he adjusted to the feeling. Stroking himself, he admired the view in front of him — Mark’s bare body bent over the sink, eagerly waiting for his cock. The thought alone made him twitch in his hand.
Placing his hands on Mark's hips, Damien lined himself up. He took a deep breath, rubbing the actor’s soft skin with his thumbs. “Ready?” He asked, already knowing the answer. Mark couldn't muster a response, all he could offer was a lazy nod. With permission, Damien slowly slid into Mark, waiting for any indication of discomfort, until he was fully submerged.
Gripping the counter, Mark panted as his lower half felt like electricity had run through it. “Fuck! Ah!”
Damien pressed his chest to Mark's back, his arms wrapping around his torso. He whimpered, beginning to move his hips. He kissed behind Mark's ear. “You feel so good, Mark.” He cooed. A hand traveled up Mark's chest, landing at his neck. Damien rubbed the tender skin of the actor’s neck with his thumb.
He moved a bit faster, rolling his hips with each thrust. Mark turned his head, peering at Damien with the side of his hooded, lust-filled eyes. The mayor leaned in and kissed him as best he could with their current position. His hand still rested on Mark's neck as he continued pumping in and out of him.
As they pulled away from the sloppy kiss, Damien guided Mark's chin to look in the mirror. His fingertips gently held his jawline. “Look at how beautiful you are.” Damien hummed, admiring the view in front of them. Mark could feel his gaze piercing him through the reflection. “So goddamn beautiful.”
Damien put his lips to Mark's ear, never breaking eye contact through the mirror. “You’re so perfect, Mark.” His thrusts continued at their steady, sensual pace, hitting deeper with each one.
“Damien!” Mark moaned out his name as he hit the actor’s prostate hard. “Oh God, Damien..”
Mark had his fair share of sexual encounters — most of which being quickies when things were slow on set — but he'd never had it like this before. He was so used to quick fucks, that he'd never known making love could feel so good.
Damien continued hitting that sweet spot, his movements picking up pace as he, himself became more desperate. Mark was a moaning and whining mess at this point. Any chance of subtlety, so as not to get caught, had flown out the window.
Mark grabbed Damien's hand that still resided on his throat. “Damien.. I'm gonna cum.. I'm gonna..”
The politician stared at the reflection, watching as Mark's face contorted in ecstasy. His brows furrowed and his mouth hung open as he neared closer to the brink.
“Good..” Damien purred. Seeing the pleasure written on Mark's face made him feel that familiar knot in his own stomach.
Damien's thrusts became erratic, moving fast and deep as he approached his own orgasm. He hit that sweet spot time and time again, driving Mark wild. “I'm cumming..!” Mark mewled, shaking with the blunt force of his orgasm. Semen dripped down the cabinet doors of the sink as he shot his load. His orgasm was powerful, washing over him like a tidal wave. His back arched, resting the back of his head on Damien’s shoulder as he continued fucking into him.
Feeling Mark's walls squeeze around him, accompanied by the sight of his beloved in such pleasure, was enough to send Damien over the edge. He was quick to pull out, making clean-up easier for the both of them. Hot spurts of cum landed on Mark's back as Damien finished.
They both panted, attempting to collect themselves as they came down from their high. Mark let out a chuckle, Damien following suit. The mayor kissed the actor’s neck gently and nuzzled his head against his. “That was fantastic.” Damien hummed. “You were so perfect. More perfect than I could have ever imagined.”
Mark melted into Damien's hold, completely worn out. Damien reached for the nearest towel and wiped up the mess they made, careful not to ruin the gentle moment. He set the towel aside and just held Mark. He was exactly where he wanted to be.
After a long, tender moment of enjoying the other's presence, Damien broke the silence. “Come on, let's get you to bed.” He gently patted Mark on the ass. “Let's get you comfortable. You did so well.”
Mark grinned at the praise — who knew he'd develop a thing for praise after this? Damien helped him back into his robe, putting his own underwear and pants on afterwards. He swept him off his feet, earning a yelp from the actor as he carried him bridal style.
Damien opened the second door in the bathroom — one he swore had not been there before — and brought Mark to the master bedroom. He set him down carefully on the massive bed, surrounding him with pillows and wrapping him in blankets.
Mark patted the bed beside him, urging Damien to join. “Come lay with me. It'd make this so much better.” He said, flirtatiously.
Damien chuckled. “I'll be right back. I'm going to go get us some refreshments.” Blowing a kiss, Damien left the room. He made his way to the kitchen, nearly getting lost in the massive house. He passed by the game room which still had cheering and loud music coming from it. Perhaps their festivities went unnoticed.
Finally, Damien found the room he'd been searching for. He grabbed two wine glasses, and turned to the island for the wine bottle. Next to the bottle of wine was a small blue container of pills. Curiosity struck the cat as he reached for the blue vial. He read the label — “aphrodisiac.”