WHO: Mark Reilly and Owen Rogers WHEN: Thursday, Nov. 29th, after class WHAT: Mark confronts Owen because their drama is making their phys ed class difficult for the other Hellions. And it ends with, uh … kissing. There’s no way that this relationship will end badly.
Unfortunately, Mark and Owen had to see each other every day. If it wasn’t phys ed, it was survival class. Their uncomfortable animosity was making it difficult for everyone. Crying hadn’t worked. Apologizing hadn’t worked. And Owen held grudges like nobody’s business.
If he wanted Mark to beg so he could call the shots, then fine. It had been two days since their last conversation, and Pella was really starting to glare at them. That could only end badly. So on their way back in from gym, Mark grabbed Owen by the front of the shirt and dragged him away from the group and around the corner, pinning him up against the side of the building.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
Owen hit the wall with a little thud. “What.” He smacked Mark’s hands away, giving him a shove backward. He didn’t want to get in a fight, but he would if he had to. He’d been irritable in class and even though he was doing his best to hide his feelings, it was impossibly easy to read him. “Don’t touch me like that.”
Mark took step back before moving right back in, framing Owen between his arms without actually touching him. “Fine. But this is still ridiculous. Do you want me to beg you for forgiveness, Owen? Because at this point, I will do anything you want me to to make this better. I tried to do the right thing for both of us, and it only upset you. I want you to be happy. Or at least content with this.”
Owen looked away, slumping back against the wall and refusing to look at him. Every time Mark pushed him, every time Pella criticized him, it made it clear that Owen was the one with the problem and it was his fault. “Mark, I don’t want to talk about it. I asked to switch teams and Pella won’t let me. I’m just waiting for this feeling to go away, and you being the better person is really grating on me.”
“You think I’m not being bad enough. Would this be easier on you if I was mean to you? I’m trying to do the right thing.” Mark sighed. He leaned in and gently kissed Owen’s shoulder. “I’m trying to do what’s best. If you need me to beg, I’ll beg,” he said softly.
“You’re doing the right thing and I hate it,” Owen sighed, rubbing his face. As usual, his hand was smudged with pencil. He couldn’t even articulate how he was feeling and why. He knew he was bothered that Mark seemed to be pulling himself together while Owen was falling apart. The media pressure was getting to him. The breakup was getting to him. Being hurt and feeling like he wasn’t allowed to be was getting to him.
It took all Mark had not to flinch away. The smudges drove him crazy, but he was trying to do something here. Instead he shifted a little closer so they were just barely in contact, his mouth against Owen’s shoulder. “But it’s not making you happy.”
“I forgave you. I forgave you for what you did and you threw it back at me.” Owen couldn’t get over it. He held grudges and he held them hard. He didn’t forgive easily once he was wronged because he didn’t forget that feeling.
“Owen.” Mark touched Owen’s jaw, waiting until Owen was looking him in the face to continue, “I didn’t throw it back at you. How can I be your friend when all I want is to be with you? You throw me off. I’ve never had feelings for someone like the ones I have for you. They’re killing me.”
“Don’t----” Owen shied away from Mark’s touch, but it wasn’t angry. It was distinctly uncomfortable. He brought his hand up to cover his jaw, his neck. “I’ve gained five pounds.”
“I would love you if you gained a hundred,” Mark said without hesitation.
“Bullshit, no one----” Owen still wouldn’t look at him. “It’s a week. I gained five pounds in a week, do you have any idea how long it takes to lose five pounds?”
“I do, actually. It’s … why I barely eat,” he admitted.
Owen took Mark’s hand, lacing their fingers. “You love me?”
“Yeah. Of course I do; if I didn’t, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”
Owen tipped his head and brushed his lips against Mark’s cheek. It was like he was afraid to breathe too loudly. “Please tell me again you didn’t mean what you said.”
“I didn’t mean a word.” Mark didn’t even completely remember what he’d said, but he felt like he hadn’t meant it. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think of the charcoal smudges that might end up on his skin.
Owen’s breath hitched and he tugged Mark forward by his shirt, kissing him hard. He missed him. He needed him. At least, that was how he felt right now. He was tired of being angry and hurt, and staying away from Mark was too difficult.
Mark kissed back, taking Owen’s hands to to pull them around his waist. Two days ago Mark had been pretty adamantly against this, but doing the right thing was so difficult. He had enough stress, and Owen deserved a boyfriend. Right?
Owen pulled Mark against his body. He’d been irritable in phys ed partly because of his weight gain and feeling uncomfortable in his uniform, but right now he wanted Mark against him and he didn’t care about the rest. It was easy to forget things when Mark was kissing him, easy to forget how angry he’d been and that he’d been right, and that Mark had been cruel----but Mark was bipolar, he’d been in a downswing. He didn’t mean it. That was the important part.
It had to end eventually, and Mark kissed his way down Owen’s neck when he needed to breathe. “Take me back,” he breathed. “Let me handle this with you.”
Owen cradled Mark against him. “Okay,” he said helplessly. He wanted the attention, the validation that he was attractive----but it wasn’t just that. Mark was just... passionate. Smart. Sharp. Clever. He got to Owen in the worst way.
“Jack’s got tutoring right now. If you wanted to...” Jumping right back into bed was probably terrible, too. But … too bad.
Owen pulled Mark in for another kiss, tugging at Mark’s lower lip with his teeth. “I do want to. Come on. Come here.” He pulled away from the wall and tugged Mark with him.