SA Collins

Words and Errata

Words and Errata

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Angels of Mercy - Diary of a Quarterback Part 2 (Marco)

Updated: 26 September 2015 [Work In Progress – subject to revisions]

Chapter 1

It's Time ...

I don’t know when I made the decision that now was the right time. It may have been the moment the bell rang at the end of the last period of the prior school year, but I doubt it. Not because my feelings have waivered, because that would never happen.

It may have been the morning after, but I didn’t think so either. Yet somehow the tide had turned after nearly three weeks of my watching him at the store. I don’t know if it was this morning when I got up, when I brushed my teeth, or when I took my shower. It might’ve been when I ate breakfast, or even when I was in my car making my way to the Dairy Queen. It might’ve been any of those times but I didn’t think so.

I think it finally came as I blew out the latest toke from the half-smoked joint I held to my mouth, letting the smoke soothe the mass of feelings that were roiling like a tempest within me. At some point in that exhalation, as the smoke billowed before me, I saw it. I saw the future that could be, the one I wanted for both of us. I’d dreamed of it before, but never with such clarity. I don’t know if it was the marijuana that helped me see it all, or if it was just that I needed to relax enough that the enormity of what I wanted our lives to be together was there before me or not. What I do know is that I’d had enough. I had enough of the waiting, enough of postponing of what I knew our lives could be, enough of not knowing if he’d take me or not, enough of wondering the what-abouts or the maybes. I’d simply had enough. 

From the moment I decided, I don’t recall my putting out the joint and slipping it back in the small tin case I had for them. I don’t recall straightening my hair, slipping out of the car or the walk to the store itself.

I stood there in front of the store, the big Dairy Queen logo staring me back in the face. Part of me wanted to go back to the car where I’d been for the past three weeks. I knew that was never going to happen. Too much was riding on it, my happiness being just the least of them. I knew I’d spend every moment of my life making Elliot happy if he’d have me. I stepped inside. A rather drunken doorbell was the sole greeting to a completely empty store.

A shuddering sigh broke from my lips, leeching the pent-up energy that I’d been back building. There was no doubt about it: I was rolling the dice on this. I knew how he’d felt, The last time we were alone like this. it didn’t go like I wanted it to but I had my answer. He did like me. He’d said as much after the Winter Dance just before winter break. Those words he spoke to me, words of hope, words of love that he desperately wanted but felt he could never ask for rang in my ears. “I always dream about you, Marco. You’re the perfect man for a boy like me. You’re beautiful, smart, and caring. So caring. It’s so not fair. Boys like me never get boys like you. We should, you know - get boys like you. We’d be so good for you. You’re the kind of boy I’d worship for the rest of my life. I think I could love a boy like you. Yeah, I could love a boy like you, Marco Sforza. Too bad that’ll never happen.”

Those words cut me deeply,because it was what I wanted most to hear. Just not the way I wanted to hear it. It was that he felt he didn’t deserve me. Yet, those words of how much he could love me were burnished into my soul. I knew he would be mine one day. But I had to do it delicately. I had to plan it. For that I needed to back away for a bit. I needed to gain some perspective. I needed to evaluate how I could approach him and let him know that he was worthy of asking for my love. To hear how little he thought of himself, how little he thought he could ask for in life, was a tough thing to take in. He was so out of it at the time, I knew he wouldn’t remember a thing I would have to say about it. So instead I just laid there with him, holding him as he slowly slipped off into sleep. The boy that I loved above all others who said he loved me but didn’t think he was worth of that love. or that he was worthy enough to even ask. I carried his pain from that day forward. Those words became my driving force. But for him to accept me, I knew I needed to answer that for him. I needed to convey to him that I was his for the asking: he only needed to ask.

But that was my dilemma as I stood there, wondering, while the empty store blared the last chorus of She Works Hard for the Money, where my boy was.

“Arrghghgh…,” he garbled, weaving his arms a bit like some sort of zombie as he came around the wall that separated the seating area from the prep part of the restaurant. His eyes went a bit wide the moment he saw me. He immediately dropped his arms and stopped with the sounds. I tried like hell to look like I was preoccupied with looking at the menu rather than him. I don’t know how successful I was, only because my eyes were always riveted to him whenever he walked into view. It was automatic with me from that first day I drank him in as he struggled with that damned unforgiving padlock he had that first year.

“Wow… fucking sex-on-a-stick Marco.” 

I had to bite back the biggest fucking smile that wanted desperately to snake across my lips. He could be so fucking cute when he thought no one was looking. It’s what I loved most about him: that fearlessness when he thought he was safe. That’s what I wanted to bring into his world, a whole lotta love and the safety of my arms. I needed to say something that wouldn’t let him think I heard what he’d whispered under his breath.

“Hey, uh, Elliot, right? We go to the same school?” 

Jesus fucktard! Could I come up with a more dumb-jock opening line? I needed to regroup and just be myself. He doesn’t want a dumb jock. He wants you, dipshit. Let him see that.

My inner monologue had it right. I needed to remember his words. Just let it flow and speak from the heart. That’s what would convince him of my sincerity more than anything else.

“Uh, yeah.” 

I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he swiped his bangs out of his face only to have them come back down to obscure his left eye. I felt my fingers curl at that. I so wanted to be the boy who could slip that hair behind his ear every time that happened. I wanted to be that boy who could give him that sort of attention, that boy who he’d let get that close to him. I was desperate to see his eyes full of love just for me. Fuck me, I was so fucking close but I knew, just as it had after the Winter Dance, it could still all go wrong.

So I allowed my gaze to move to meet with his and I didn’t flinch. I wanted him to be sure that he saw the fullness of my gaze. I wanted him to see how much courage I had in wanting him even if he never thought I would. I wanted this moment. I wanted this moment, not for me, but for him. He needed to see I was laying myself before him. I was surrendering myself to him. I needed him to see that. It wasn’t so much as my asking for him. To my way of seeing it, he had to see that he was worthy of asking for me. Not that I thought I was all that and a bag of chips, but he thought I was and that made me unattainable in his eyes. I needed to correct that. I needed him to see he was more than worthy to ask for whatever he wanted in life. And I prayed that I could be somewhere on that list.

“So, uh, you want to, uh, like, order something?” he asked me in the smallest of voices.

“Oh hell, yeah. Was just toking with some of the guys on the team out by the cliffs.”

Now why’d I have to go and say that? Stick to the fucking truth, fucktard. I sighed as softly as I could. I didn’t want him to become uneasy or feel awkward. That wouldn’t help either of us coming together.

I ran my fingers slowly up and down my abs in an almost absent-minded way. I wanted to see if he liked what he saw. I noted his eyes were following the trace of my fingers over my abs. It made my wearing the shirt a half-size too small that it looked painted on, worth it.

There was no mistaking that stare: he wanted me. But I had to be careful; this is where it could all still go wrong. I decided to be as conversational as I could. It would ease me into approaching him at the counter.

“Got an incredible craving for the munchies. There’s just so much to choose from. How do you do it?”

He looked at me like I just asked him if he wanted to do it with me. Yeah, baby, you can have me any ol’ way you want. I’m all yours. Just gotta ask. He shook his head slightly as if he needed to clear it.

“Huh? Oh, the menu… Yeah, I usually don’t.”

“Oh? So… why do you work here, then?” 

I took a couple of steps forward stopping just a step or two away from the counter. Surprisingly, he did the same. We were slowly starting the dance. I felt emboldened to press further. I could feel it all coming together in the best possible way. I hated that I had to strategize it so damned much but Elliot could be random. My football training was what I needed to get me through this. Then he did something that I found absolutely adorable: to my question he cocked his head at that sort of angle a dog does when he hears a high pitched sound. 

Then sarcastically offered, “Family owned and operated,” before he dropped the whole put-on face. 

Humor - it looked hella good on him, made him even sexier. I couldn’t help it, I giggled at his playfulness. His eyes widened like he couldn’t believe I could find him remotely entertaining. Oh, baby, if you only knew how much of my heart you already have. He’s already won without even knowing he was playing. I was slightly flustered so no one was more shocked than I was with what fell out of my mouth next. I was nervous; it happens.

“Oh yeah, that’s right. The original owner died on the job here, huh? Like a couple of years ago, wasn’t it?” 

I was afraid I’d really stepped in it now. That certainly wasn’t the best way to let someone you’d like to get closer to have to respond to a question about a dead relative. Thankfully he didn’t seem to be so put off by it. Maybe I’d get by. Maybe.

“Yeah, that woulda been my grandpa.”

Fuck me. Really, ass wipe? Way to go. Let him know you fucked up.

“Oh, wow, uh, …awkward - eh? Sorry.” 

He seemed surprise that I was truly sorry for saying something so completely stupid. Hey, I could own up to my own fucked-upness. I wasn’t so prideful that I couldn’t admit to my mistakes or faults or even dare to think I didn’t have any. He tried to blow it off but I knew he was just being kind.

“Nah, it’s cool. I only saw him on occasion. We weren’t really that close. Not on that side of the family, anyway. Now my Aunt Tilly on my dad’s side, she’s an A-1 whack job. We’re close.” 

Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable. I just wanted to kiss him so damned much right now. That lingering kiss after the dance still played over and over in my mind. I knew he didn’t remember any of it. His words about me to Greg made it abundantly clear that he didn’t recall any of our affectionate moments from that night. That, too, had been a painful thing to bear. But it was Elliot, so I carried it for both of us. I regrouped, and dedicated myself even more so to find my way back to him. I shrugged and smirked a little bit at his over-sharing about his fucked up family life. 

I got it - boy, did I ever get it.

“Sorry, I know. WTMI.”

I was cool with it, so I simply shrugged it off. I took another slow small step toward him and was delighted when he did the same. I noted however, that he seemed to turn a corner of some kind. That had me a bit worried. With Elliot, that could mean almost anything.

“So, uh, can I serve you something?” 

Oh, baby - just the question I was waiting for - well, maybe not the question, but it was close enough that I’d take it. The game was definitely on now - even if I didn’t consider it a game at all. Football was just that deeply bred into me.

I completed closing the distance to the counter and placed my hands on it. He took the final step to reach his side of the counter too. We were less than a foot or so apart. I knew I had my game face on. I knew I appeared calm. It was a lie. Inside, I was falling apart. Inside, I could feel my heart being so exposed to him that he could damage me irreparably with one wrong word. I was risking it all with what I was about to do. I glanced around the restaurant even though I knew that no one was there. Tuesdays: their slowest day of the week.

And then I saw it - that silly little thing he did with his tongue, flicking that small ring at the left corner of his mouth. Each time he watched me in the showers and I slowly soaped my body - making sure that I held his eye to me and me alone - he would flick his tongue absentmindedly at that ring piercing. I knew it for what it was.


It was time for me to make my move. I could see he was asking me to do so, even if he never formed the words. His tongue playing with that ring piercing was proof enough.

“Well, there is something I’d like to have, but I don’t seem to find it on the menu.”

I knew it was the corniest pick-up line on the planet, but I had to trust that his attraction for me would cloud all of that. His eyes narrowed a bit, stalling me for a second until they softened again. I rested my elbows on the counter and slowly, with as much seductive nature as I could muster, I curled a finger in his direction, ensuring that he knew I wanted him to come closer. My eyes widened slowly, his reflected whatever I was doing. He was caught, as if in under my spell. Silly boy, it’s me who’s caught; I am only offering myself to you. Come to me, Els. This time see me for me.

His gaze met mine and to my great delight, he didn’t flinch. Instead he kept my gaze with his own and leaned forward close enough that all I had to do was close the last few inches and his lips would meet mine. This time there weren’t any pills or drink to cloud the moment. Now nothing would keep me in the shadows.

“Actually, smoking also gets me completely horned up, too. I’d much rather take care of that then have a burger and fries. What I really came in for is, uh,” my eyes narrowed, desperately searching his, “you.”

Before he could think about what I said, I seized the moment. I leaned forward and my lips touched his. My heart exploded into a dazzling array of colors Jesus, he tasted even more delicious than I recalled. It was as if the universe had opened up and revealed all of their mysteries. How long I’ve waited for this, dreamed of it, masturbated to it, craved it. But none of it, not a single element of what I had imagined could remotely hold a candle to the enormity of him. His mouth slowly opened. My heart swelled with that. I smiled softly, a soft chuckle breaking between us before I resumed our kiss. And I drank of him, of his mouth. I poured everything I could into it, allowing him to take from me what he wanted. I could feel him shudder slightly as I plundered him for all his worth. The taste of him was intoxicating. I could already feel my body responding to him, my cargo shorts getting tighter the longer we kissed. I allowed a moment where my eyes opened to see if he was as into the kiss as I was.


A couple of times he stalled the tiniest bit in kissing me back but I wasn’t having it. No, no, you don’t - you’re mine Elliot Donahey. I am never letting you go. So I would renew the kiss and found he opened up to me further when I didn’t think it remotely possible. But I didn’t want to blow my wad in that one kiss. I wanted to leave him wanting more. Never overindulge is my motto. I wanted him always wanting more. only because I’d never be satisfied with whatever he’d give me. I would always want more. So I pulled away, breaking the kiss. He practically crawled across the counter to continue to take from me. How I wanted to let him.

Leave him wanting more. Some part of me warned. See if he pursues.

A liquid strand of saliva connected us as I pulled away. It was sorta sexy that he was that hot for me. I know that sounds so self-centered but it wasn’t so much about me as it was that I could give him something he wanted, that he’d come to me for it. That’s what was so fucking sexy on him. The hunger for me - the small realization that he could ask, that he was worthy of asking, and what’s more, I’d willingly let him take what he wanted. I was his and his alone as far as I was concerned. He had to see it. I was trying like hell to let him see it.

TAKE ME! I’M RIGHT HERE, DAMMIT! TAKE ALL OF ME! I screamed inside. I knew there was pleading in my eyes. I tried to let him see it. I don’t know if he did. Please baby, please Els - see it. See me…

I swirled my tongue around my lips to sever the link between us, then ran a thumb along his full and pouty bottom lip and licked his saliva from it. Jesus, could one person be any more beautiful? I didn’t think it possible. My heart ached to have him here, responding to me. 

Take me, Els. Please, baby…I’m begging you. Just ask…I’m yours. I’ll say yes. I promise you. I’ll say yes. Just ask. I pressed my advantage - reeling him in closer - allowing him to see the choice he wanted to make but was too hesitant to ask.

“Fuck, Elliot, you’ve got me all kinds of hard up here, boy. I knew you’d know how to kiss. Those full sexy lips were just begging for me to do that.”

He shook his head - his resolve to hold out was beginning to erode. He just needed a little nudge and he’d ask.

“Ooh, and he looks adorable when he blushes. I think I just may have fallen in love, Donahey,” I cooed to him, making sure I pulled out all the stops. I flashed my eyes at him so he wouldn’t have any doubt of my intentions.

“What? Huh?” he mumbled in a daze. “Yeah, has to be a dream, ‘cause there’s no way Come-fuck-me-now Sforza would do that to someone like me.”

“Oh, really?” I said to him, looking at him with my head bent slightly down, looking up at him from under my brow. It was a look I practiced in the mirror just for him. It was reserved solely for him and for a moment just like this. I smiled warmly, letting him see me as open and vulnerable as I could be. I needed his trust. I needed him to see that I would protect and love him. The only way to do that was to let him see inside of me. He had to have complete and unfettered access. Before he could change his mind I moved around the counter separating us and slipped a finger into the belt loop of his pants and brought him around the wall to the prep counter and ran my hands up his slender toned body. I grew harder than I ever have been just feeling him against me, in my arms, where he should always be.


Now time to move for the kill, the nudge that would bring him to me. I ground my hips against his,  feeling the meaty weight and hardness in his own pants against mine.

“Fuuuuuck, does that feel like a dream to you now, Els?” 

I gasped uncontrollably, my body shuddering involuntarily along with his. I was losing my resolve as much as he was. There was a part of me that wanted to strip him bare, taste every inch of him. I wanted to bring him to me and love him for a lifetime.

“No, uh, it feels pretty real. Ah, fuck, Marco. Christ, please, I’m close.”

I couldn’t help myself, a dark laugh percolated from deep inside me and over my lips.

Before I shot my wad, I sighed softly in his face, delighted when I noticed he breathed me in. That’s it baby, I’m yours - take me.

“Yeah, I thought you’d feel the same way.”

Something shifted in his gaze, something like… fear. 

No, no, no, nonononononononono - baby, no. I swear I’m on the level. Look at me! Look! At! Me! He had to see me. I put a finger under his chin, bringing those beautiful blues to meet my eyes.

So this is love? I have waited for it so long to look me back in the eye. And here it was. He needed me to step up and let him know how it was going to be between us.

“When I watch you, you don’t look away. Understand?”

Thankfully, he nodded slowly.

“It’s how we are. How we’ll always be. Can you do that for me? For us?”

He nodded again and I ground my hips against his again as I kissed him briefly, placing my forehead gently against his. Ah, Els, baby, 

“I know you think this is sudden, Els. But I’ve watched you for two years now. I know what people say; I’ve heard the rumors, too. But I can’t deny it anymore; you do it for me, Donahey. Always have, from the moment I saw you on my first day at Mercy High. I even adjusted my schedule last year so we’d have PE together so I could watch you naked in the shower. I know that sounds so fucked up. I know. But you have no idea how hard I had to flirt with ol’ Ms. Crabapple in the front office to get her to change my schedule. But you’re so worth it.”

I kissed him as gently as I could, and just when he thought I was done, I did it again.

“I don’t know why it’s you, but it is. I’ve been working up the courage to get closer to you all summer. I’m sorry it took me all of June to figure out what day was the absolute slowest in your week. You have no idea how many Tuesdays I’ve spent nearly my whole day watching the store, making sure that you’d be alone for me to ask you out.”

I needed to admit to it all. He had to hear how long I’ve been wanting this. It was time to come clean and tell him everything. I kissed him again. When we parted I could feel him trying desperately to breathe me back in.

“Please tell me you won’t disappoint me by saying no. I don’t think I could bear it.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes searching my own. Here it is…he’s getting it now.

“You want…to go out… uh, with me?”

Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, baby, now you’re getting it. I was giddy with that realization blossoming across his face.

“Yeah, now he’s getting it.”

I rewarded him with the most lustful thing I could: I devoured him, unrelentingly so. He wanted it, goddamn it, he wanted me. HE WANTED ME! My head swam with that - so I made sure to give it back, giving him just as good as I got from it. He held onto the belt loops of my shorts so tightly I knew he was overwhelmed by me. I wanted him to take more. I had so much more to give him. I wanted him to tear me apart to shred me completely raw, break me down to nothing and somehow, somehow I’d find a way to give him more.

The only reason I stopped was because my lungs were screaming for air, so much so that I was light-headed from it. I was only able to pant out, “Yeah.”

And now, for the final admission. He needed to know it all. Here’s my heart, baby - please be gentle. I don’t think I could bear it if you turned me away. Please… I felt my lips tremble. These were the most important words I’d ever say, the words that mattered the most.

“I think I love you, Els. I know it’s fast for you, but you’ll see. I’ve watched you for so long.” I kissed him softly again, so fearful of what he’d say. I had to finish.

“I’ve been such a coward. Those eyes, the way your hair moves across your face, not to mention that it fucking slays me every time your eyes search me out. I tremble when you look at me. I know it’s all new for you. But for me, it’s weighted; it has history. I’ve waited for so long to do this.” 

Another soft kiss. Lapping at his mouth gently but purposefully - giving as much as I was getting.

“Just to taste you. Please say you’ll go out with me. We can go to Carmel or somewhere else - you name it. I got a car; I got money. We can get away. I just want to spend some time with you. Please say you’ll come. Please, Els? Please come.”

He swallowed audibly. I could see he was working it out. C’mon Els, put it together.

“Uh, well, I don’t have today off. But I can get away tomorrow. Mom watches the ss-st…”


“…store on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Yeah, I know. I’ve been watching, Els, remember? I know your schedule.” I finished it for him.

His eyes flashed brilliantly - so fucking beautiful and blue.

“Wow, it just hit me. I have a boyfriend stalker! How fucking righteous is that?”

Boyfriend? No, it couldn’t have been that easy. I had to ask - just so I knew it wasn’t a fluke. I knew I wasn’t hiding how much joy those simple words meant to me.

“Di- di- did you say boyfriend?” I couldn’t say it fast enough and then my fucking tongue got in the way. Inside, shit was starting to misfire. Jesus, what a time to have a stroke.

His eyes went wide with embarrassment. I smirked as he scrambled to apologize. So silly of him. Part of me let him ramble for just a bit because I wanted to hear his voice, I wanted to let him process it all. He had to see it was his decision to accept what I was offering. It had to be his choice or it would never work.

“Too soon? It’s just, hey, I’m aware of where we live. I thought I was the only one, ya know? Small town, averages of there being more, well, uh, not so great, you see. But hey… we can just call it friends with bennies if that’s what you want… I don’t…”

Enough torture. I kissed him deeply, holding his beautiful face in my hands. So thankful, so goddamned thankful that he was taking me to him. So fucking appreciative that Elliot Donahey said he wanted me. I was in awe of that simple life altering statement. But I knew I needed to make light of it or he’d think he said something he shouldn’t. I couldn’t let him go there. 

“Nah, I was dreaming you’d say we’re boyfriends. Fuck, I know I did it all wrong, Els. I just couldn’t wait any longer. God, you must think I am really a whack job, huh? So not cool, Sforza. So not cool.”

And there it was… his finger to my chin mirroring my move from a moment before, lifting my gaze to meet his, as equals. 

“Hey,” we finally found each other’s eyes, “boyfriends it is. Life’s too short to sweat the long courtship thing, right?”

I smirked, so fully and hopelessly in love with him. I could see his eyes soften, growing confident and sure that what I was offering was his for the taking.

“Yeah, okay.”

“So, uh, did you really want something or was it just the make-out and date thing that was on your mind?”

Wow, playful already? I liked it. I shrugged.

“Well, I guess that I could eat something. I really was toking out in the car. Not with the guys on the team. Hell, I haven’t seen any of them since summer vacation began.”

“Oh, so you don’t have to get back to them?”

My turn to be playful.

“Well, I could just go back to what I usually do on Tuesdays, but hey, it’s actually much more comfortable to be inside the store than in my car all day.”

We laughed. He blushed and I fell in love all over again. Then he offered something that said that we were solid. Not so much because of what he said, it was that it already had a line to it. We were forming our own history, together.

“You’re welcome to hang, but I sorta got some things I gotta do to stay busy. Mom may be the boss, but she’s a little Nazi when it comes to the store being kept up.”

“I don’t mind helping.”

The look he gave me with that nearly made me giggle. Fuck he is so much cuter than I remembered, maybe because I was seeing him now through a different set of eyes, the eyes of seeing my lover, my boyfriend. He said so. No words would ever top that except maybe I love you or husband. Yeah, I knew I was going to marry him already. There was no question about how much I wanted to bind him to me. This was permanent. Everlasting. Always.

He was still looking at me funny. I thought I should speak up.

“What? Can’t I stay around my guy while he’s at work? Isn’t that what boyfriends are supposed to do?”

“Fuck all if I know. You’re my first.”

“And I better be your last, too, if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

I was really liking the rapport we were already having. I knew it was built upon the brief conversations we’ve had over the years. We already had a history. I just had to get him to see how much of my life was occupied by all things him.

He blushed and looked down for a moment, a flush of color to his face.

“Fuck Els, when you blush I just want to fuck the daylights out of you.” It was out before I knew I was going to say it. It was just in my head as I watched him and then before I realized it I said it, shocking myself as much as it did him. But Elliot was nothing if not resilient.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure we’ll get to that soon enough. For starters, let’s just concentrate on getting the stock that arrived onto the shelves in the stock room, okay?”

That’s my boy. And he was… mine. I smirked.


He started to walk toward the back of the store to the stockroom in the distance. I couldn’t leave it alone. I liked testing him to see where we were. My guy was fucking golden and he knew how to keep up. I fucking loved that about him.

“Ya know, I hear stockroom sex can be wicked hot,” I started and he was right there for the hand off. As my fingers slipped in with his, he had his comeback all ready. I loved him for it even before he opened his mouth. It meant we were solid; we were a couple.

“Yeah? Well we’re so not using the hamburger spread as lube on my buns, big guy. So we’ll table that for now.”

“Spoil sport.”

I had me my boy and as I felt his fingers grasp mine I took it as a sign. Not that I was taking him to me, but the reverse. He had the confidence to pull me to him and it looked so fucking good on him. I know he wanted strength in his life. He wanted the strength I had in me so he could wrap it around him and keep him safe. I would take anything that would hurt him and visit it upon anyone who meant him harm tenfold. No one had better touch what’s mine. Elliot Donahey held my hand, his thumb moving along the back of my hand as if to reassure himself that I was his. I returned the same. He looked back at me, a smirk across his face, already the confidence building that he had what he thought was the bestest and brightest boyfriend at school. How wrong he was in that assessment. How wrong they all were.

Elliot Donahey was the most gentle and beautiful soul; the man I was going to marry, the man who would rule my heart as no other. I would surrender to him time and again. Whatever he asked, it was his. I would move heaven and Earth to do his bidding. As my thumb returned the caress across his hand, it was my vow.

What we have, what’s going to be, it begins here, Els. I have you now and I’m not ever letting you go…

We’re going to be together, you and me.


General Disclaimer
- As I write Fictional Literature with a decidedly queer perspective, I want to make it abundantly clear that I have used imagery of male models that I feel help me convey the vision I have in my head and in my works, but in NO WAY does it imply, construe or insinuate the nature of the male model's proclivities or personal orientation. They are intended merely as a representation as near to I can come to visually describe the men in my works. All copyrights apply to their original content owners (where applicable). I make no such claim.