"J.T. - It's Not Easy Doing Greene, Part 3"
By: Cathy and Melissa
When Mark got to work the next morning, he was still feeling pretty good about the way things had gone with Carter the night before. The next "official" appointment with J.T. would be Friday night and Mark wished that the two days between now and then would fly by. He wondered if he had any chance of convincing Carter to come by his apartment on a friend to friend basis, just as he had the night before last. He was thinking about how to ask, when Kerry arrived for work.
"So, how much money did last night set you back?" she asked as she opened her locker.
Mark nearly choked on his coffee. It wasn't possible for Kerry to know about him and Carter. It just wasn't.
"That much, huh? Carter did say he had won, I just had no idea how much," she grinned.
"He told you that he won, huh?" That seemed like a safe enough answer until he could find out just all that Carter had told her.
She pulled on her lab coat and nodded. "He was in a really good mood when he got back from playing poker at your place. It was nice to see him really smiling again, Mark. I'm glad that he's found someone to spend some time with. I have to admit that I'm shocked he won. We've played a few times, and he's terrible. Probably he was so happy because he actually found someone worse."
"He did seem to have a good time last night. I was thinking of seeing if he wanted to come over again tonight. But, no poker. I can't afford to lose any more money," Mark joked, hoping that she was going to buy his lie.
"That would be good for both of you. Ever since Doug left, you've been adrift, Mark. Not that I'm trying to force you and Carter into a friendship. Friendship either happens or it doesn't, it can't be forced. But, you'll never know if you can be good friends unless you try to do things together. I know he likes Jazz and there's a concert on the Pier tonight. Why don't the two of you go to that?"
"That's a good idea. Thanks, Kerry," Mark said as he left the lounge. He would call Carter a little later and mention the concert. Maybe say that he had been planning to go and was wondering if Carter was going too. If so, then there wasn't any reason why they couldn't go together, right? A nice, harmless little outing with no strings attached. But, it did mean that he would be spending time with Carter, even if he couldn't touch him.
Carter leaned against the lamppost, wondering just why he had been so willing to give up his only night off this week to spend more time with Mark. He had spent much of the day convincing himself that Mark didn't want him -- that Mark wanted J.T. and sex. But, not him and his fucked up life. Not even Mark's phone call and half-baked invitation to the concert had made him think any different. So, why then did he feel let down that the concert was about to begin and Mark had not yet arrived? He glanced at his watch, noting that Mark had said he would meet him at this exact spot thirty minutes ago. He scowled, thinking that he was a fool to wait thirty minutes for anyone. Mark wasn't going to show. There was no reason for him not to stay to enjoy the concert -- except he didn't think he'd get much enjoyment from it now. Not when he had been expecting to enjoy it with Mark by his side. "Stop thinking that way," he whispered. Mark didn't care about him. He couldn't care about him.
Carter felt a light touch on his shoulder, but it sent a sensation of electric energy through him and he knew it was Mark. When he turned around, he saw he was right. He had no idea that his smile was making Mark feel weak in the knees.
"Sorry I'm late. Occupational hazard." Mark said as they headed for the bandstand.
"No problem. I was thinking it had to be something like that. What was it? Nothing too serious, I hope."
Mark shook his head. "Nothing too serious. Just complicated. The minute I turned the patient over to Benton, I got my ass out of there. I was afraid that you wouldn't wait for me. I'm glad you did." Mark smiled.
"I figured that I'd give you a time limit. You met the deadline."
"Good."
They found a clear spot from where they could see the stage and hear the music. It was just in time, too, because the band began to play. They were pretty good and during the breaks Mark and Carter talked about the groups and artists they each liked. They were surprised to find they had a lot in common where music was concerned.
During the next song, Mark saw that Carter was staring out to the sidewalk, where a few couples were dancing to the slow love song that was being played.
"Do you like to dance?" Mark asked.
Carter nodded. "Sure. Doesn't everyone?"
"Yeah. Elizabeth and I crashed this wedding reception one time. We had a blast dancing."
"What kind of dancing was it? Slow and romantic or fast?"
"We did the tango. It's the only formal dance I know," Mark grinned.
"Ah, slow and romantic then."
"And sexy as Hell. What about you? What's your preference?"
"I just like dancing period. I do know a lot of ballroom dances -- Gamma made sure that all of us were well taught in that department. Dancing imparts grace, which is something I lack."
"I don't agree with that."
"Then you don't remember what a total klutz I was when I began my first rotation at County, do you?"
Mark laughed. "I remember. I think that it was just a case of the rest of you catching up to your long legs, that's all. You haven't been that way for a long time."
"You don't call falling in an abandoned warehouse and dislocating my shoulder an ungraceful act?"
"Nope. An incredibly unlucky act, but not ungraceful. You are the most graceful person I know, Carter. You move like a cat, all sleek and graceful. Sure of yourself."
"That's not me. That's J.T. I'm never sure of myself." Carter forced himself to look away from Mark's eyes. He didn't want to get into another Carter versus J.T. discussion with him.
"Why do you do it, Carter? Why are you working as a male prostitute?"
"Because I don't think I could get much work as a female prostitute," he replied, glad that there weren't any people within earshot.
"I'm asking a serious question, Carter. The least you can do is give me a serious answer."
"Why do you care? Isn't it enough that you get what you want on the nights you hire J.T.?"
"No, it's not enough. I want you."
They stared at each other for a few moments and once more it was Carter who had to look away. He wished he could believe Mark. But, he knew he couldn't. Mark was only interested in the sex and he didn't have sex with men. Couldn't. Wouldn't. He left that to J.T. But, it was obvious that Mark wasn't going to give up on this question and he needed to find an answer. It was a shame he had wasted the "why not get paid for it" answer already.
"I've tried living on a small salary. It sucks. I miss the luxuries that I enjoyed when I had my trust fund. The pay is good for a few short hours of work and the money is worth it."
If he would have been looking at Mark's face, he would have seen the sadness in his eyes as he heard Carter call their time together "work", but he wasn't looking at him. And if Mark would have been looking into Carter's eyes, he would have seen that once more, Carter was lying to him.
Mark looked back out at the dancing couples, a few of which were getting embarrassingly close to each other. He wished he could dance with Carter like that, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. But an idea began to take shape in his head -- he couldn't dance with Carter that way, but he could make J.T. dance with him. And he would be with J.T. in two more nights. His good mood restored, Mark went back to watching Carter watch the band. He hadn't had time to eat since he was running late and he was determined that immediately after the concert, he and Carter would get a bite to eat. Not only so he could chase away his hunger pains, but also so he could have some more time in which to do nothing but watch Carter.
When the concert was over, Carter was a little reluctant to return home. But, he couldn't think of a way to stay there with Mark. At least not any way that didn't make him sound as if he was a lovestruck puppy. Mark solved the problem for him though, by saying that he hadn't had a chance to eat and he was starving. Saying that he could always eat something, which got a huge grin from Mark, Carter agreed to walk with him to a nearby diner. They got a booth near the back and placed their orders, then settled back to talk. They had made it there in good time, too, because the rest of the crowd at the concert appeared to be hungry as well and within a few minutes, the place was crowded.
"Would you mind if we changed our order to go?" Carter asked. He had wanted to spend time alone, or at least as alone as was humanly possible, with Mark. This crowd didn't fit into those plans.
"Not at all. Hold on." Mark headed up to the counter and told the cook to make their orders to go. Since he was just finishing up with the cheeseburgers, that wasn't a problem. Five minutes later found them sitting on a bench beside the lake, both of them too hungry to take the time to talk.
"You have mustard on your face," Mark said.
"Where?" Carter tried to wipe off the mustard, but kept missing the spot.
Laughing, Mark reached over and slowly wiped it away with his thumb. It felt good to touch Carter and he didn't want to take his hand from his cheek. They simply stared at each other for a moment or two and then Mark removed his hand. "Got it."
Carter mumbled a "thanks", then tried to concentrate on his cheeseburger. He had not wanted Mark to remove his hand. What was happening to him? Was he falling in love with Mark? That could not be possible. Shouldn't be possible. He liked women. He was good at making love to women, they all told him so anyway. He certainly had never gotten any complaints in that department. But, J.T. never got any complaints either. Damn. He didn't want to think about what happened when J.T. went to work. He just wanted to sit here and enjoy being with Mark. Just wanted Mark to reach over, pull him against his chest and nuzzle his neck the way he did last night. Feeling upset with himself because he couldn't keep his mind off of sex, specifically, sex with Mark, he added, he put his cheeseburger down. He had no appetite for food. Not when what he wanted was only inches from him -- and so untouchable.
"Everything okay?" Mark gently asked.
"No," Carter snapped back.
"Whoa. What's wrong?"
Carter sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, especially when you were just being nice. I just can't eat any more." Food, he said to himself. I can't eat any more food. But, you...he sighed. "I guess I'm just tired."
"Sorry. You should try to get a full night's sleep, you know."
"Well, it's too late for that now. I don't know about you, but I have to be to work in the morning."
"I was talking about last night. Early to bed and early to rise and all that."
"I was in bed early, and I did rise early, too, thank you very much."
"You weren't there when I woke up." Mark softly said.
Carter grinned, "You were dead to the world when I left."
Mark had felt so alone when he awoke to see that Carter wasn't there. It had been about one in the morning, and even though he knew that he hadn't paid for J.T. to stay, he had hoped that Carter would. He didn't even leave a note behind. There was just an empty spot on that side of the bed. A pillow that smelled like Carter -- clean and fresh, yet his musky scent lay beneath the clean smell. Carter had obviously showered before he came over, and he had showered before they went to bed. Mark figured it was the activity in the shower that did him in. After that bout of sexual gymnastics, he had been worn out and completely sated. And Carter was complaining of being ungraceful. Anyone who could move into the positions that Carter was using last night was anything but ungraceful.
"What's so funny?" Carter asked.
"I was thinking about last night in the shower."
Carter's face immediately reddened. Once more he had let Mark get his guard down. Why had he been talking to him about last night? "You took a shower last night?"
Mark suddenly felt angry. Every time he thought he was going to be able to have a reasonable and serious conversation with Carter about their relationship, he went and pulled this "J.T." crap and he was sick and tired of it. Last night was the same way. No Carter allowed.
"You know damn well that I took a shower last night because you were in that shower stall with me," he was practically shouting, which did draw the attention of several people who were taking a stroll down by the water's edge.
"Why don't you just announce it to the whole world, Mark?" Carter snapped. He got to his feet and threw away the rest of his food. "It's late and I need to go home. I'll see you in the morning."
"Carter, wait. Carter," Mark was half tempted to go after him, but he didn't. Instead he just sat there feeling like a bump on a log. He tossed the rest of the food into the bag -- his appetite was definitely gone. Well, with the way the evening had ended, he doubted if he would be able to get Carter to come by his place before Friday, so he was just going to have to make sure that Friday was a night for Carter to remember; J.T. or no J.T.
Mark had been right when he had predicted that Carter wouldn't be willing to come by his place on Thursday night, even to watch the Cubs play on t.v. Kerry had even asked Mark on Friday morning if he and Carter had gotten into a fight or argument. She said that Carter had been moping ever since he had gotten back from the concert and had even snapped at her when she tried to talk to him.
"He's not Doug, Mark. You can't expect him to like to do all the things that you and Doug enjoyed." Kerry gently explained, thinking that perhaps Mark had pushed too hard. She knew that both men needed a good friend, but also knew that a friendship rushed wasn't much of a friendship at all.
Mark figured that Kerry would pass out if he told her the things that he and Carter did enjoy doing together. They most definitely were not things he had ever thought of doing with Doug.
Instead he had told her that he wasn't trying to turn Carter into a version of Doug. That he did like Carter and thought the argument would blow over in a few days.
Friday evening, he had everything ready. He had selected nothing but slow dancing CD's and had them ready to go as soon as he heard Carter knock on the door. Candles were on the table, champagne was on ice. Caviar, strawberries and whipped cream were in the refrigerator, ready to be put out on the table once Carter arrived. Tonight, he would romance him. Tonight, they would dance.
Mark struck a match and lit the candles, then turned down the lights. He left the light on in the bathroom. Sitting at the table, he could look into the bedroom and see the bed softly illuminated from that light. Impatient, he turned on the CD player. A soft, jazzy song began and he took a few practice twirls around the apartment, making sure that there wasn't going to be any furniture in the way once he had Carter in his arms. He caught his reflection in the window and he grinned. He looked pretty damn silly waltzing around the apartment with an invisible partner in his arms. He could hardly wait until Carter arrived and he could dance around with his warm body there instead.
Mark jumped slightly when he heard the knock on the door. That was him. It had to be him. He opened the door, and sure enough, his blue jean clad dream was standing there.
"Come on in."
"I see you forgot to pay your light bill," Carter joked.
"Hardly. I just thought that candlelight would be nice. Have a seat." Mark pulled out a chair at the table, on the side facing the bedroom. He wanted Carter to see the empty bed in there. Wanted him to think about where the evening was going to end.
"What's this? Champagne? Not a bad vintage."
"And something to snack on. You complained last time about there being too much food, so I decided to go light tonight." Mark put the food on the table. "I hope you like caviar?"
"Yes, I do. You do have crackers don't you?"
"Crackers?"
"It's usually eaten on crackers."
"I was thinking you could eat it off of me."
"I was thinking that would be pretty cold on your skin," Carter slowly smiled. "And what about the strawberries? Where are they supposed to be eaten?"
"Anywhere you want. Same with the whipped cream." Mark picked up a strawberry, swiped it through the whipped cream, then held it out to Carter. Remembering Mark's insistence on feeding him directly when they were last together like this, Carter obediently opened his mouth, letting Mark place the fruit inside. Then for good measure, he reached out and grabbed Mark's wrist, holding his hand still while he licked the cream off of Mark's fingers.
His pants fitting him all too tightly now, Mark cleared his throat and asked, "Would you like some champagne?"
"A little. Roger doesn't like for us to get drunk while working."
Damn him for bringing that up, Mark fumed as he reached for the bottle. He had been hoping to get through this evening without being reminded that Carter was only here because he was being paid to be here. He poured a full glass for himself and a half glass for Carter, then took a long drink of his. He watched as Carter lifted the glass to his lips, then his tongue darted out to first taste the champagne before he took a sip. Oh, what that tongue of his could do, Mark sighed.
"Nice music. Is it the radio or a CD?"
"CD. Care to dance with me?"
"Sure."
They both stood, then Mark pulled Carter into his arms, wrapping both of them around Carter's waist. Carter's only choice was to either hold Mark around the waist or neck. He chose the neck. They stayed in one spot for a bit, simply swaying to the music.
"Um, I thought we were going to dance," Carter's eyes were laughing as he looked at Mark.
"We are. I'm just waiting for the next song to start, that's all."
"Ah, but you only know one dance."
"And how would you know that?" Two can play this game, Mark thought.
"You told me."
"I've never you any such thing, J.T." Mark tried to keep from smiling as he saw a look of aggravation sweep across Carter's face.
Knowing he had no answer to Mark's statement, Carter laid his head down on Mark's shoulder. For some reason, it felt right for him to do that. He felt Mark's hands settle on his ass, and a tingle ran down his spine as Mark caressed him through the denim while his lips found the back of his neck, softly kissing the skin there, then lightly skimming the surface to another part of his neck to stop with another kiss. It was all too easy to just stand there and let Mark make love to him. Too damned easy by far.
"Do you know how to tango, J.T.?" Mark asked.
"Yes, I do. I told you..." Before he could finish, Mark had repositioned their bodies as a tango began on the CD player. Mark had certainly not been lying when he said he knew how to do the dance. . Carter found it challenging to keep up with Mark because he was used to leading and not following.
When Mark went for the dip, he kept Carter down, liking the way his throat -- and God, what things that throat was capable of -- was exposed to him. As he slowly pulled him up, his lips landed there. If he held still long enough, he could feel the beating of Carter's heart under his lips. God, it was beating so fast. Mark kissed his way up Carter's neck and to his chin. Carter's lips parted and Mark assumed he was going to tell him not to kiss him. Hell, he had learned that lesson well enough. He didn't like it, but he had learned it. Instead he kissed the spot above Carter's upper lip, then just to each side of his mouth. He brought his fingers up to gently touch Carter's lips. Carter -- J.T. -- made no move to stop him. His eyes were closed as he inclined his head towards Mark's fingers. That was all the encouragement Mark needed. He moved one hand to the back of Carter's neck to pull him a little closer, and tentatively kissed him. Still, Carter made no move to push him away, and the kiss deepened.
Carter reveled in the feel of Mark's mouth. He'd been wanting this since that first night. He ignored the warning bells in his mind for as long as he could, but eventually his thoughts brought him back to reality. Mark wasn't kissing Carter, he was kissing J.T., the man he wanted to sleep with -- no the man Mark wanted to be fucked by. He'd certainly made no move to kiss John Carter, had he? Reluctantly, Carter pulled away from the embrace. He had a job to do. He gently laid his head back on Mark's shoulder as the music died.
Mark could feel a slight trembling from Carter's body and assumed that Carter was angry with him for crossing the line. He'd certainly seemed to enjoy it, but if he was angry, then he would just have to get over it. Mark was not going to apologize for doing what they both so obviously had wanted at that moment. What he didn't realize was that the trembling was from just how much Carter wanted Mark to kiss him again. They stood that way until the next song began. It was a sultry love song, one with a pulsating bass line and no lyrics. Just the music and only the music
"It's my opinion, J.T., that you are overdressed. Lift up your arms."
Carter raised his arms above his head and Mark lifted the T-shirt up and off of his body, tossing it to the couch. "That's much better. So much better," he murmured as he lowered his mouth to Carter's chest, using his tongue to tease his already stiff nipples.
Suddenly desperate to feel Carter's skin against his own, Mark pulled away and hastily removed his own shirt, then he pressed their bodies together, feeling Carter's erection through his pants. He liked the way that their cocks were straining to reach other through all the layers of clothing that separated them. They were definitely going to have to do something about that, he decided. But, before he could say or do anything, Carter pulled away from him. Then he slowly descended to the floor, coming to rest upon his knees. Mark held his breath as he felt Carter unzip his pants and pull them down and off. Then he removed his boxers as well. As Carter's tongue licked up and down the shaft of his cock, Mark reached out and rested his hands on that dark head. He wanted to grab him and hold him in place, keep him there forever. With a chuckle he could actually envision himself trying to work with Carter following him everywhere, ready to lower his pants and suck on his cock the minute he stood still.
"Enjoying yourself?" Carter asked.
Mark looked down into Carter's dark eyes. He now wished that he had more light than what was being created by the candles, because he couldn't read Carter's expression at all.
"I was just thinking about how wonderful it would be if you could follow me around at work and do this all the time."
"Were you now?" Carter leaned forward and ran his tongue up Mark's thigh, making the older man shiver with delight.
"Hmmm, yeah, I was. But, I don't think that would work. The other guys would all want the same thing and I refuse to share you."
"Is that a fact?"
"It is. Why do you think I booked you for four hours?"
Carter's reply was to gently suck Mark's balls into his mouth. He didn't have the heart to tell him that he had worked longer than four hours before. And, that he was supposed to go to another customer after their last appointment. Instead of ruining Mark's fantasy of being in control of his time, Carter concentrated on making Mark think he was in control of the encounter. While they had been dancing, Carter had found it all too easy to let Mark take the lead. Then he had remembered that Mark was paying for J.T. to make love to him. It was time to get this appointment back on track. Back on track? Who was he trying to kid? It had never been on track, but he could get it there now. A few more minutes on his knees and Mark would be putty in his hands. He returned his attention to Mark's cock, taking all of it into his mouth, intent on making him come.
Thirty minutes later, they were in the bed, and Mark was once more finding himself on his stomach as Carter thrust inside of him. As much as he loved having Carter fuck him, he wanted to make Carter feel the same pleasure. He didn't understand why Carter was so reluctant to enjoy himself fully. But, he had a plan for tonight. One of many plans that he had for Carter. He was not going to ask if he could fuck him, he had already been told that was forbidden. But, if Carter himself should ask him to do it, well, then, the only gentlemanly thing to do would be to oblige him, right? And Mark had been raised to be a gentleman.
After Carter came and cleaned them both off, he settled onto the bed beside Mark. Mark rolled over and sat up. "How about a back massage?"
"It's your dime," Carter replied. He thought that if he kept saying that, then maybe he would be able to remember that Mark only cared about the sex with J.T. and didn't care about him at all.
"That's right. So, roll over onto your stomach."
Carter rolled over and Mark straddled his thighs, then began to massage his shoulders. He kneaded Carter's entire back several times, feeling the tension slowly recede from the body below him. He had not realized that Carter had been that tense until he had begun the massage. He was sure that his tension would fade even further before he was done.
"Can I tie your hands to the bed?" Mark asked as he slowly rubbed his back.
"Hmm Mmm. Sure. Whatever," Carter lazily replied.
With a grin, Mark reached under the bed for the length of rope he had stashed there earlier. He brought Carter's wrists together above his head, then twisted the rope around them before tying the rope to the headboard. It was then that Carter began to realize that he might have made a mistake by answering a question while Mark had him pleasantly distracted.
"I don't think..."
"I didn't pay for you to think," Mark replied. "Just lay still. I won't cross the boundaries you set, I promise."
Carter let his head drop to the mattress and closed his eyes. He had no idea what Mark was up to with this, but he knew he could trust him to keep his promise. He felt Mark's hands upon his back once more and he sighed as Mark resumed the massage.
Mark's hands kneaded the muscles of his back and Carter barely noticed that they were inching lower with each minute. It wasn't until Mark was squeezing his ass that Carter realized he had gotten that far. Then Mark's lips were upon his flesh, his lips hot and demanding as they kissed him along his spine and then on his ass cheeks. A tongue entered the picture then, swirling and licking at his skin.
Mark had already parted Carter's legs in order to fit between them for the massage, and now he pushed them even further apart. Carter gasped as he felt Mark's tongue trace a path toward his balls. But, that tongue never made it that far. Carter's gasp quickly became a low guttural moan as his body was ravished by Mark's tongue. As often as he had rimmed customers, he had never been rimmed and he briefly wondered why he had never gone to that extreme as waves of pleasure spread out from his bottom to the rest of his body. He now understood why that simple act would reduce his customers to putty within a few seconds.
Mark lingered, enjoying the sounds that Carter was making as he found a new source of pleasure. Mark wanted to bring so much more pleasure to him, but he knew that Carter wouldn't allow him. He couldn't kiss him. He couldn't fuck him. He couldn't do the things to Carter that Carter did to him. The things that drove him wild with desire for the man who now trembled under his touch. "Soon, Carter, you will give in to me," he thought, "Soon I will make you totally mine."
Carter felt his entire body shudder as he came just from what Mark was doing with his tongue. Feeling totally drained, he vowed to never move from that spot on the bed. And then Mark began again. His tongue was keeping time with the song that was now playing on the CD player -- damn the man for having a system that could hold that many CD's -- and it was driving him crazy once more. Then he felt nothing but cool air against his flanks as Mark's mouth disappeared.
"Are you purring, J.T.?" Mark whispered in his ear.
"I think so," Carter replied. "I've been told I do that when I'm content."
"And are you content?"
"Yes."
Mark grinned, then went back to what he had been doing. Time to reintroduce Carter's body to his finger. Maybe two fingers this time. He certainly hadn't objected the other night when he had penetrated him with more than his fingers and Mark knew -- at least he hoped -- that Carter wouldn't object tonight.
Mark heard a low rumbling sound coming from Carter's throat as he slid a slippery finger inside of him. Just as before, he was tight, and Mark thought that Carter's sphincter muscle just might cut his finger off as it grasped it and held it inside of his body. Hoping that the gay porn videos he had bought the other day were right, Mark began to twist his finger around, trying to stretch Carter enough so that he could get another finger into him. And then he would do all in his power to drive him so crazy with desire that he would beg for Mark to take him.