Certain That I'm Yours

Moving in Reverse With No Way Out

He could feel himself getting more and more worked up, in the face of Aim who was trying to what? Pretend like he understood what it meant to be a good, understanding, protective, loving boyfriend? 

"-I don't-"

"-that's hilarious actually because I don't remember you ever being protective!"

Aim stood up, opened his mouth to answer but Mark was too caught up to let him talk. He stepped back when Aim stepped forward, didn't want him in his bubble.

"Do you want to know what I remember?" Aim didn't move or say anything so Mark went on. "You letting me fend for myself when I was being harassed! I remember you and your friends coming up with awful names for me to keep me tiny and quiet and away from you. I remember you making me feel like I didn't matter. I was so important to you if it was just the two of us but in public, I didn't exist. I remember you making me feel like I was crazy because I know I didn't come up with us on my own. But if I didn't, how come I was the only one who was broken? How come you didn't defend me?" 

He barely noticed Aim taking another jerky step closer to him. He was almost too worked up to care so he didn't move, not that he had to energy to do so anyway. Mark sucked in a ragged breath, didn't recognize his voice when it came out raspy and wet.

"Why didn't you stop them from saying those things about me?" Vindictive voices rang thru his head, calling him names till Mark would've sworn he was in the locker room of their high school, watching Aim through teary eyes, listening to his own heart break. "Why didn't you do anything?" Mark shoved him away when he was right in front of him. His voice gave out the rest of the way, sounded tiny when he asked, "I loved you so much, why did you join them?"

When he looked up at Aim, through slightly blurry vision he saw him hang his head, he let out a heavy sigh like he was disappointed in himself and didn't have any answers to his questions. So, Mark pushed him again. Hands curled into fists to thump his chest with what minimal energy he had left. Aim barely moved and let him hit him for a few more seconds before he cracked, lifted his arms to bring him in the rest of the way. 

Mark froze as he collided with Aim, arms stuck between them. His hands relaxed only to curl into the fabric of Aim's shirt. 

"Why did you do that to me?" 

Distantly, he realized he was crying for real because Aim was shushing him, holding him so tight while he whispered indistinguishable words into his hair. And then he realized what was happening. 

Aim...was hugging him. And Mark was...letting him? No. No!

He shoved Aim away from him, harder than he meant to but Aim didn't need to know that. Mark stared at him, too shocked at him and at himself to say anything, swiped the back of his hand over his face. Why did he have to feel so much, so strongly? Why did Aim have the power to do that? Mark has the power in this situation, not Aim, he knew that but here he was. Feeling powerless.

And Aim was just standing there watching him. 

Mark hated that. Maybe more than anything else, that this was just par for the course with him and Aim. He couldn't just have a conversation with him, he always had to be unbalanced by something. He always had to think too much or feel too much or confront something painful, he couldn't escape it. Aim always left him reeling, it didn't matter that he'd felt fine or that he'd started with some weird illusion of control in this situation, he'd lost all that now.