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Chapter 20: Prep, prep, prep, prep, PREP!

Mason stared down at the concrete below him, a dazed look in his eyes. His steps were dragged and slow but in his odd state of mind, he didn't notice. The conversation he had with Mark almost an hour before had left him in an odd loop. In his mind, he replayed every word they had said to each other over and over again. Was this really happening? Despite the fact that the conversation was a far cry from romantic confession and "I love you" filled exchange one would see in the movies, Mason still wondered if he'd imagined it all. Mason now lived in a world where the ultra-sexy, uber tempting Mark Tyler was—basically—begging to sleep with him.

Now, one should not get it twisted. Mason had been very, very sad to realize that Mark wasn't confessing his undying love. Mason hadn't been after Mark for his looks alone. Mason wanted those happy moments of talking and laughing that they already had paired with the affection kissing or more showed. Even those quiet moments of cuddling and just being in each others' space had seemed amazing to Mason, especially if they were done with Mark. Now, that reality was both closer and farther than ever.

But, to at least know that Mark found Mason attractive gave Mason quite the ego boost. He hoped that when he eventually got over Mark, that confidence would carry on with other relationships.

Mason's heart almost popped out of his chest when he nearly ran into his front door. He hadn't noticed he had gotten so close. Mason tried to remember his journey back home but found that he had not been paying attention at all. He was completely in his head the entire way back and he was a bit startled to realize that if he hadn't made the commute countless times before, he certainly would have just walked off and gotten himself lost.

Mason entered the house slowly, then shut the door. He released a heavy breath as he leant his back against it. Mason only gave himself a moment to unwind, then began to steel his features. He wasn't sure what his face looked like, but he wanted to make sure that it wasn't anything weird in case other people were home.

"Hey, Mason!"

Speak of the devil.

"Hey, mom." Mason smiled, looking up to see that she was coming in from the direction of the living room. Mrs. Moore frowned when she noticed that Mason was leaning against the door.

"Why are you still over there?" She asked cautiously, frowning at her son's pose. "Is something wrong? Are you alright?"

Mason chuckled to himself, pushing off of the door and toeing off his shoes.

"Nah, I'm fine."

Mrs. Moore, however, wasn't convinced. The way that she walked into the foyer, with that barely concealed worry on her face, Mason knew that whatever was going on in her head was far more serious than reality. She came up to Mason and placed her hands on his cheeks with furrowed brows.

"Are you sure? Because you can tell me anything-"

Mason smiled down at her since she was about a foot away now and pulled off her hands as slowly and kindly as he could.

"I'm sure."

And just like that, all of her worries seemed to melt away. Mrs. Moore seemed to completely relax and turn back into her calm laid back self. She muttered a simple "good" to Mason, patted his cheek, and turned to head back into the living room.

Mason knew that that was going to happen, it always did. Mason remembered those occasional talks that his father gave to him and his brother Aiden about taking care of mom. They were told that if mom ever went from calm and chill to seconds away from calling an ambulance, she was probably just having one of her moments. Moments that, their father said, could be ended in a matter of seconds if they knew what they were doing. The three men in Mrs. Moore's life were thus artfully skilled at getting her calmed again. Mason often thought of the fact that he and Aiden were never told what caused the sudden escalations to occur in the first place. Was it a condition or a result of something in their mother's past? Their dad never brought it up and they, to this day, had never let their mom know that they were purposely calming her down. Either way, it was one of those things that made their mom unique. It was also a bit funny that the person who was usually the chillest person in the house could get so dramatic that she thought of dialing 9-1-1.

Mason told said person that he would be heading up to his bedroom and received a grunt in response. Mason chuckled at the simple noise from his mom but continued up the stairs without making another comment. The next hour and a half were spent relaxing and getting back into the lazy mood that came from being in the house. Mason took a long hot shower, cleaning his body while nearly cooking his skin off in the process. Then, Mason lathered himself in his fancy lotion and took a quick half-hour nap. When Mason came to, he felt fully refreshed.

It took him several seconds to remember what had occurred that same morning. Thoughts of Mark flooded into his brain and Mason groaned. He had actually managed to forget about Mark due to the repetitive nature of his routine. But, he hadn't forgotten for long.

Mason sat up, crossing his legs Yogi, and crossed his arms as well.

"So," He said to himself, staring intently at his blanket. "What is he going to want to do?"

Mason asked the question, but he felt as if he already knew the answer. Mark would want sex and Mason would have to draw on his limited experience to do a good job. Surprisingly, Mason hadn't been completely abstinent for the last ten years of his life. He didn't date a ton, but he did date some and had even done the do once or twice. The answer was once. He had sex once.

If Mason spoke to other people about it, he may lie and say that he has slept with plenty of people. In a way, that was true. He has fooled around with a decent number of people. It actually made him blush to consider the number of people that have felt the shape of his dick. But, he's only had penetrative sex with one person and it was so lackluster with the girl that Mason has never really been excited about doing it with anyone else.

Actually, Mason wasn't excited to do it with anyone who wasn't Mark. His crush/obsession with the guy spread to all aspects of a relationship. So, despite knowing that the experience would probably be just as disappointing as his first, Mason still fantasized and had hope.

So, knowing what would be happening tonight, Mason decided that he would do his best to make it the absolute best. Mason's preparations were a bit embarrassing and very funny, but probably logical.

The first thing that Mason did was get up and move to stand in the one part of his floor that didn't have his bed or old clothes on top of it. Then, he sat on the floor and started reaching for his toes. He followed this by doing some inner thigh and hip stretches before he did a barely passable split. Mason's heart thumped the entire time, worried that every time he started an even more embarrassing stretch, his mother would walk in. Why hadn't he locked the door before he started? But he was already twisting himself up like a pretzel and would prefer to just finish what he started. So Mason did stretch after stretch. Whether he pitched the ball or caught the throw, he wanted to be nimble and ready. Mason sat back on his bum, sighing out heavily when his door swung open.

Mrs. Moore found her son seated on his bedroom floor, a deer-in-headlights expression on his face while a deep red blush filled his cheeks. She raised a single brow and leaned against his doorway.

"I thought I heard some noise, I just wanted to check what was going on." She explained slowly, scanning his position on the ground with a curious look.

Mason sputtered only for a second, grasping for a believable lie.

"Uh, I got excited about this celebrity and accidentally rolled off the bed. It was an accident."

They looked at each other in silence and Mason unconsciously held his breath. He only released the air when his mother slowly nodded.

"Alright, you better be more careful." She said, berating him softly. "Those celebrities of yours. Me and your father were never so obsessed."

Mason rolled his eyes but luckily his mom didn't mind the action.

"I'm not obsessed."

Mason watched his mother's face, upset to see that superior look hadn't left.

"I'm not."

She shrugged and turned to leave.

"You keep telling yourself that."

And she was out the door. Mason's mouth opened, then shut, and went on to do so several times before he realized he had nothing to say. He was not obsessed, at least not with some celebrity. With his mother out of his room, Mason finally took the initiative to get up and lock the door. He doubted he would do anything as suspicious/embarrassing as those stretches but it was a good precaution.

Mason sat back on his bed and thought back on the sex thing. When he considered it, he realized that he had to seriously prepare for the possibility that he would be bottoming tonight. With another person, Mason might have lied and said that it was a foreign concept to him. After having been apart of the queer community for so long, Mason had some deepest embarrassment about being what some might call, bottom material. He was young and cute even for his age. People often assumed by his looks alone that he was a catcher, not a pitcher. It was frustrating, however, because it felt like a direct jab to his masculinity or sense of strength each time.

Mason logically knew he had no reason to despise his looks or the idea of bottoming, but he tried to avoid accepting it nonetheless. Mason wanted to be taken seriously and at times that didn't happen when people saw him as the cute bottom. The worst part was that Mason didn't mind the idea. How was he supposed to fight against the preconceived notion others had of him if he didn't mind the end result. Him with another man's penis inside of him.

Like he had mentioned, Mason hadn't had sex with a guy before. He wasn't sure which role he liked better. However, the image of Mark ramming into him had never not turned him on. Driving into Mark has never been a bad idea, either, but the first idea just had a different edge to it.

So, wanting to be ready for everything, Mason headed for the shower. It felt a bit repetitive to go into the shower for the third time today, but Mason had a pretty big motivator. No way in earth, heaven, or hell would his first time with Mark involve some gross poop aspect. Mason was going to be squeaky clean.

Mason checked the time once he had finished, noticing that he felt especially empty as he walked back over to his bed. Mason let out a disappointed groan to see that it wasn't even five yet.

Mason had spaced out and taken nearly twenty minutes longer to get back to his house, he showered, napped, and fully prepped himself for Mark but it wasn't even evening yet. He wanted to pull every strand of hair out of his head. How was he going to wait? The anticipation was already about to kill him.

As Mason got up to pace and to consider how he was going to waste that extra time, his phone caught his eye.

Of course, why hadn't he thought of it before. A teen in the 21st century should have immediately been able to remember what ought to be his primary source of entertainment, their phone. He picked it up and his first thought was to go to instagram. It was one of Mason's favourite places to forget the time and get lost in the mundane scrolling. But, after a couple of posts, a new video appeared.

From Mark.

Could Mason ever escape the man's presence?

Probably not while they were still such close friends who had each other on every social media.

So, Mason ignored the part of himself that thought it a better idea to take his mind off of Mark. Instead, he went to Mark's page and scrolled and liked to his heart's content. That was one thing that Mason always liked about being friends with Mark, he could like super old posts but it was still socially acceptable.

Yes, it was torturous to be around him and not say anything for all those years, but Mason enjoyed the situation in whatever ways he could. When Mason had scrolled to the last post, having seen every selfie and dance video Mark had to offer, he finally considered doing something else with his time.

Or, he thought, I can just go through all of them again.

Embarrassingly enough, Mason actually considered it. He stared at his phone for a good two minutes, wondering if that was overkill. Mason finally decided that yes, that was overkill, and went to check the notifications on his second account.

After only a couple of minutes of reading and replying to comments, Mason heard a knock on the door. Mason's eyes went wide and he quickly checked the time. Mason relaxed considerably when he saw that it wasn't long after 5. Logically speaking, 5:14 was way too early for Mark to be coming over if he planned to just fuck and leave. But, Mason couldn't let go of the subtle feeling that Mark was here.

He didn't really believe that Mark was there, but he got up and went downstairs anyway. Just in case.

When Mason got to the bottom of the steps, he wondered whether to feel smug that his decision was the right one, or upset that he was taken off guard. There, standing in the doorway with the sun displaying his silhouette and highlighting his warm skin, was Mark Tyler.

His mother stood not far in front of him, speaking warmly about how it had been too long since she'd last seen him. Mark listened and nodded at all the right moments, but he wasn't fully focused. His gaze began to leave Mrs. Moore and catch Mason standing on the stairwell.

The look Mark was sending through his warm green eyes was playful, possibly teasing. Did he know how long Mason spent, preparing for this evening, for this day, really? Did he suspect that Mason was racking his brain to have himself in the best shape for what they were about to do? Or, did he simply figure out that with how long Mason has liked him, this would be a far bigger deal to him than it would be for Mark.

Regardless, Mason had to clench his hands not to blush in response. Instead, he smiled, and stepped with more volume, letting his mom recognize his presence.

Mrs. Moore turned quickly, a bit startled, and smiled in Mason's direction.

"Mason, Mark is here." She told him, always one to repeat the known. "He says he wants to take you-"

"Uh, Aunt Eleanor, I was kind of hoping to tell him myself." Mark told the older woman gently. Despite the fact that he interrupted her, Mrs. Moore seemed all too happy to back off and nodded before leaving the room.

"You better come and visit again soon, Mark!" Mrs. Moore yelled from the living room.

Mark chuckled and yelled a quick, will do in reply. When he looked back towards the stairs, he found Mason standing just in front of them, wringing his hands together. Mason was nervous, but with his mom in the room, he was able to ignore what was to come. However, now that they were alone, the reality of it all hung over his head like a dark cloud. A dark, sexy cloud, but a cloud nonetheless.

Mark stared at Mason and tucked his hands into his pants pockets. His smile dropped, but there was still warmth in his eyes.

"Hey." He said simply.

"Hi." Mason replied back.

Then there was silence.

———————————————

Hey!

I know there isn't a ton going on in this chapter but there is much more to come. 

I'm kind of tired so I don't have a ton to say today.

Anyway,

Vote, Comment, Share, Follow, anything else you can do with this book and I will see you next time. Bye!!!

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