All Is Hell That Ends With ‘Fair’(Closed ~ One-on-One ~ Rated a possible M)

(The massive panic is killlling me. People are freaking out. Panicking never solved anything. One must be calm to think rationally.)

“I should be thanking you. You’ve given me a shot of confidence I didn’t know I needed.” He Sighed happily, draping himself against the counter. For a moment the man was silent, his eyes trained on the crimson liquid in his hand, red like the blood shed straight from the heart…

“Call me Marcus.” He said suddenly, lifting his head. “I like it much better than Lighter. I think Marcus suits me in a way… and if I’m being honest, I want to hear you say it. No one has really said my name softly since my mother…”

(Yeah, I've been trying to inform at least my family on the matter. I'm not an expert, but I have daily contact with experts so I try to at least make sure my folks aren't panicked and just do the right things)
"Marcus?" Cyrus repeated.
That rolled off his tongue so much better. He cracked a little smile.
"Yeah, I like it a lot. It's nice to say."
He sipped at his glass of wine. At this point, Cyrus was starting to feel drowsy. He let out a yawn and stretched up against the counter.

(My mother works for a medical center. She’s been keeping us informed and safe. It’s nice knowing what’s going on but even before she told us I knew it wasn’t as big of a deal as people said it was and is)

Lighter - no Marcus smiled happily, downing the rest of his wine with a happy giggle. “It’s not as strange. People give me weird looks when I tell them I’m ‘Lighter’. They probably think it’s some stripper name.” He laughed some more, glancing over at Cyrus and noting the sleepiness on his face.

Carefully placing his empty wine glass in the sink, Marcus moved to gently take Cyrus’s wine from his hand. He set it down on the counter. “Let’s go sleep, come on.”

(Yeah, I’m mainly concerned for my grandparents at the moment. I’m not worried about dying from it, just passing it to those whose immune systems aren’t as strong as mine.)
Cyrus nodded.
“Sounds good. I’m wiped out,” he replied.
He started towards the bedroom, waiting for Marcus to follow. A soft smile spread over his face.
“Tonight’s been amazing,” he said, “I know I keep saying it. But… it’s true.”

(Oh same here! I don’t want to spread it! It would awful!)

Marcus smiled warmly, trailing after Cyrus with a happy grin. He turned out the lights as they passed, shitting the bedroom door once again. “It has been amazing… you’re a good guy, you know how to treat a man right.” He chuckled softly, stretching with a yawn.

He hummed as he slid his shirt off, looking around for a pair of pajama bottoms or anything other than sat clothes to wear. He blushed lightly, tracing the scars along his chest - a nervous habit of his. “I’d offer a pair of clothes but I don’t think you’d fit in mine.” He laughed nervously, biting his lip.

“Oh, that’s alright,” Cyrus said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
He took off his pants and tossed them down on the floor. Then, he laid back in bed, waiting for Marcus to join him.
“But yeah, I only treat you right because you deserve to be treated kindly, and… Hm… Well… I think it’s pretty damn sexy when you have a good time during sex. It’s a two-way street, ya know. Can’t just do what you want to the other person to get off and call it a day. Especially not if it hurts them. Not to mention bottoming can already be pretty tough.”

Marcus hummed softly, giving up on his search and instead moving to join Cyrus in the bed. He gently wrapped his arms around the other’s torso, humming happily. “Hmph you should tell Marx that.” He huffed playfully, pushing his face into Cyrus’s chest. “Bottoming can be tough. Especially when your top isn’t that good.” He giggled softly. “Lucky for you, you were the best top I’ve had for a long time.”

Cyrus chuckled a bit.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been there. I switch so…”
He placed a hand on the back of Marcus’ head to hold him close.
“You should never hurt someone during sex unless they explicitly give you the green light. Look, I don’t know much about this Marx guy, but god, he’s a piece of shit. He’s straight up abusing you, and I’m seriously worried for your safety.”

“How is that? Switching?” He asked gently, voice slightly muffled.
His mood seemed to drop, his body tensing. It took a long time for him to reply, giving Cyrus a tight squeeze. “It is abuse… but I can’t leave or he’ll kill me.” He whispered softly, unable to hide the trembling that tormented his body.

“If I can help you find an out, I will. In the meantime, I’ll be here for comfort.”
He stroked Marcus’ hair and held him close. For a few moments, he thought to himself.
“As for switching… I dunno, I’m just flexible. It allows me a variety of partners. Besides, I like to mix it up. There are a lot of things that feel good, you know.”
He tilted his head.
“Oh yeah, I meant to ask, if you don’t mind. Are you gay? Bi? Something else? Doesn’t make a difference to me, I just feel like I should know.”

“Thank you. It means a lot.” He murmured, letting himself relax into the soft touch. It was quite comforting to just be held.

“Mmm I could see that. It would open up a lot more things to try and learn.” Marcus glances up at Cyrus’s face, flashing a small smile.

“I currently identify as Bisexual, but the more thought I put into it the more I realize I might be a little closer to pan.”

“I gotcha. I was curious, is all,” Cyrus replied.
He searched for words for a minute.
“But um… if you want to continue sleeping together after tonight, just know I’m completely open to experimenting with different roles and positions and the like. You only need say the word.”

His eyes widened at the proposition. Had anyone offered that? Not really. Did he like it? Hell yes.

“I’d love to, Cyrus. I would like to experiment with it if it’s with you… you make me feel safe.” He admitted, unable to hide the smile growing on his face. “It’s weird we bonded so much over alcohol… I like it though.”

Cyrus made a happy noise in response, similar to a purr. He cuddled Marcus a little harder.
“Heh. Yeah,” Cyrus murmured, “Usually what happens is I get too hammered to make good decisions and wake up with someone in bed with me. I think it was just enough this time to make us relax though, and we honestly aren’t all that different from each other, so we bonded pretty well. Now we’re here.”

“I like it here.” Marcus decided with a small nod. “It’s… new and exciting.” He paused for a moment, tilting his head as he thought. “We really are similar. I’m thankful for that too. And I’m not usually so thankful. You just bring out some part of me I thought I killed.” He chuckled lightly, humming. “Makes me feel warm and giddy.”

“I’m glad,” Cyrus said, “I feel that though. I often feel like I’m too broken to experience affection or love, but…”
He smiled a bit.
“I dunno, I feel a bit less broken tonight.”

Marcus let out a happy giggle, suddenly pressing a few gentle kisses to Cyrus’s face. “I’m happy to hear that! I feel less broken too.” He purred, slipping his hands into the other’s hair. “You’re so comfortable.”

Cyrus smiled and leaned into Marcus’ grip.
“Do you want to try to sleep now? I’m beat.”
He yawned and rolled his shoulders a bit, pressing himself further into the pillow.
“Very comfy though…”

“Oh! Yes, let’s sleep.” He laughed gently, humming happily as he pulled the blankets more over them and closed his eyes. “G’night!”

“Night,” Cyrus whispered, rubbing Marcus’ shoulder and cuddling into him more.
He was so tired that he practically passed out on the spot.

Marcus smiled, feeling comfortable for once in his life as he drifted off to sleep.
He slept peacefully, no nightmares to haunt him like they usually did.
He woke the next morning to an alarm he had set on his phone, groaning at the splitting headache one usually got after a heavy night of drinking. He felt hungover and sore.
He curled up into a small ball, whining gently.

Cyrus startled awake when the alarm sounded. He was feeling unwell; his head hurt, his muscles ached, he was a little nauseous, and on top of that, his heart was pounding and for some reason, an intense panic had settled into his body.
He looked over. Marcus was still there and now awake. Cyrus was about to say something, but for some reason, words wouldn't come out. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, trying to take a few deep breaths, but his mind only raced faster; things were to the point where he couldn't even pin down any of his thoughts and why they were bothering him.
Cyrus got up and ran to the kitchen. He went to the sink and splashed water over his face, then filled a cup and tried to take a few sips, but he almost felt like he was choking.

Marcus lifted his head, looking up at Cyrus with concerned, bleary eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked gently, about to sit up and help when the other ran from the room.

Now Marcus was completely awake. He stood quickly, ignoring the dizziness in his head as he followed after Cyrus.

“Hey, what’s wrong?.” He asked softly, placing a hand on Cyrus’s arm, fingers rubbing slow circles into his skin.

Cyrus leaned over the counter, trying to get words out to explain, but his throat felt tight. His whole body was trembling as he tried to collect himself but couldn't. He set down the glass but almost knocked it over, he was shaking so bad.
His heart was beating up into his throat, and he was left trying to catch his breath, which just devolved into him hyperventilating. As much as he'd tried to stop it, it was too late; he was already having a panic attack, and there wasn't any immediate way to bring him down from it.

Marcus himself felt panicky at the sight of the other. He remembered his last few attacks all too clearly though his were triggered by someone acting upon him.

He rubbed soft, slow circles into Cyrus’s strong back, murmuring kind phrases to the other. “Take a deep breath for me. Count to ten, okay?”

Cyrus leaned over the counter, trying to take Marcus' advice, but it was difficult. In his mind he knew everything was fine, but still, everything felt out of control. He took in a deep, shaky breath and tried to hold it for a few seconds, only for his body to immediately force all the air out of him.
He tried again, to the same effect.
Instead, Cyrus tried to ground himself by focusing on the circular motions that Marcus' hand made into his back, but he was stuck. There was nothing he could do but ride out the intense panic at this point.

Marcus stayed by his side, worry spread across his face. He didn’t make an attempt to hug or to do anything other than the soft circles. He was too afraid he’d make the other feel trapped.

So he stood there with Cyrus, worriedly looking him over.

Cyrus had no clue how long it had been when things started to ease up a bit, but he was just grateful it was over. He buried his head in his hands as his breathing slowed, absolutely horrified that Marcus already had to see that. Or had to see him like this at all. Ever.
"I'm… sorry…" he whispered.
Cyrus felt physically terrible. There were the hangover symptoms, plus the still-persisting tremble of his hands, the weird emptiness, the numbness that set into his extremities and face. He felt like he might throw up too.

“It’s okay, don’t apologize. You cant control those.” He murmured. “It’s all okay now. Come here.” He opened his arms wide for a hug, gesturing for the other to come closer. “Come here. Give me a huuuug”

Cyrus leaned down to bury his head into Marcus’ shoulder.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” he muttered,
rubbing his cheek.
His body still shook a bit.