i'm not really the bragging type of guy. and - if i'm being honest - if i came home now, i'd rather just chill with you than fuck your brains out. sharing a high, listening to music, holding your hand. that's closer to what i want right now.
[So many things Tate doesn't take into account: the times he hid things from Marcus, the people he sleeps with and flirts with without thinking twice. The deep bonds he's claimed with other people before deciding to pin them all on Marcus. The fact that he'd lie to his face without breaking a sweat... he has to think, for a second, through the haze in his head. Has to think of an answer rather than recall one.]
before, i guess i was afraid of telling u about me but u know that. how i used to shape who i was now u know me, thru and thru keeping parts of myself quiet was probably the worst thing
[ it's hard for even marcus to know what he's digging for - some kind of thread to pull to make this shit fall apart. some kind of tension relief from all the intimacy and the going hard they've both been doing. not a fight, necessarily, because like he said, he does just want to lay with someone and hold their hand and listen to music - but he's just... talking. saying things, seeing what happens. always has been a problem for marcus, this mouth of his. ]
i mean. no? nothing specific. just knew this girl back home who always used to say new friends are just old friends who haven't disappointed you yet. we're in this so deep that i keep thinking - what if i've already hurt you? what if you've already hurt me? it seems naive to think my hands are clean. or that yours are.
sorry for being depressing. just being anxious and cynical about all this. i don't want to fuck up. or lie. or hurt you. but i feel like that's all i know how to do.
[ should he apologize again? he probably shouldn't - kind of fucked this up enough as is. he'll try to make it up to tate instead. ]
hey. do you want to go on a date? like - a real one. not just driving into nowhere, or sitting at home getting high or anything. i'm talking about normal shit real couples do. seeing a show and then watching the waves from the beach or whatever the fuck.
bitch, i'm trying to plan something special for you. us. whatever. i'm not trying to be cute. i'm trying to be romantic and shit. fuck. god damn. nevermind, i'm calling it. date's cancelled. i'll just suck your dick while you watch tv or something.
okay, well, we'll see. i get to decide when and how hard i may or may not choke you. if that kink is all about trust, then you need to trust me that i'll give you what you need.
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and - if i'm being honest -
if i came home now, i'd rather just chill with you than fuck your brains out.
sharing a high, listening to music, holding your hand.
that's closer to what i want right now.
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lot more powder to go with my roach
and space next to me on the bed
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[ ... ]
what's the worst thing you've done to me?
off the top of your head.
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i don't know.
[So many things Tate doesn't take into account: the times he hid things from Marcus, the people he sleeps with and flirts with without thinking twice. The deep bonds he's claimed with other people before deciding to pin them all on Marcus. The fact that he'd lie to his face without breaking a sweat... he has to think, for a second, through the haze in his head. Has to think of an answer rather than recall one.]
before, i guess
i was afraid of telling u about me
but u know that. how i used to shape who i was
now u know me, thru and thru
keeping parts of myself quiet was probably the worst thing
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[ it's hard for even marcus to know what he's digging for - some kind of thread to pull to make this shit fall apart. some kind of tension relief from all the intimacy and the going hard they've both been doing. not a fight, necessarily, because like he said, he does just want to lay with someone and hold their hand and listen to music - but he's just... talking. saying things, seeing what happens. always has been a problem for marcus, this mouth of his. ]
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do u think i did something?
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[ dot dot dot. ]
i mean. no? nothing specific.
just knew this girl back home who always used to say new friends are just old friends who haven't disappointed you yet.
we're in this so deep that i keep thinking - what if i've already hurt you? what if you've already hurt me?
it seems naive to think my hands are clean. or that yours are.
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even if thats true
we talked about how we'd forgive each other for anything
you can be disappointed w someone and get over it
right?
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sorry for being depressing. just being anxious and cynical about all this.
i don't want to fuck up. or lie. or hurt you.
but i feel like that's all i know how to do.
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which is why i think its important to remember who we are to each other
i dont want to be disappointing to u
ever
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[ should he apologize again? he probably shouldn't - kind of fucked this up enough as is. he'll try to make it up to tate instead. ]
hey.
do you want to go on a date?
like - a real one. not just driving into nowhere, or sitting at home getting high or anything.
i'm talking about normal shit real couples do.
seeing a show and then watching the waves from the beach or whatever the fuck.
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we could eat somewhere.
watch the sun set, and then wait until it rises
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little bit of drug use.
not a lot.
probably.
we'll see.
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surprise you.
be a good boyfriend.
[ uh, he's not sure if this is normal or extra or what - date shit is still incredibly new to him, but - ]
gotta dress fancy though
suits n shit
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same one as from the wedding?
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i mean.
idk, now i feel stupid.
we can forget the suits
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i'm not trying to be cute.
i'm trying to be romantic and shit. fuck. god damn.
nevermind, i'm calling it. date's cancelled.
i'll just suck your dick while you watch tv or something.
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date's still on
business casual.
nice but not too nice
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suits.
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if im wearing a tie u better choke me with it
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except for this, when i do.
im looking forward to this
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if that kink is all about trust, then you need to trust me that i'll give you what you need.
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