Beauty and The Beast

*Author's Note: Hello again, readers! This isn't in quite the same style as 'What Happens in Vegas'. It happens to be at least partly based in reality, and is in no small part cathartic for me to write. As always, I love CONSTRUCTIVE criticism and feedback, respond to all emails, and take requests from registered users. This is straight up M/F, largely romantic in nature, and is a slow burn story. The sex comes at the end ;) If my stories aren't your cup of tea, no hard feelings. Just put the cup down and leave. Enjoy!*

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Mark was pissed off. There weren't many good days as a shoe salesman, but January was the worst. He hadn't made a cent in commission, and his hourly rate barely covered his bills. Another week of Ramen, he thought to himself as he pulled into his driveway, the pervasive rain of Washington beating a steady drumbeat on the roof of his car.

As he trudged into his house to prepare his rather sad meal, he got a text that instinctively made him smile.

*Hey, Tux. Anti-Valentine's day party? We could go see Deadpool.*

It was Kira, one of Mark's closest friends. She had a knack for cheering Mark up, even without meaning to. He smiled at her use of his nickname, affectionately given in college when he had had to dress up for orchestra at least once a week. He had started as 'the guy in the tux', and it evolved over time into just 'Tux.' As always, he was quick to reply to her.

*I'd love to. What theater?*

*How about the one by the freeway? It's small, but actually has really nice seats.*

*Sounds good. 2ish?*

*Sure. Bring whiskey.*

Mark smiled again. Kira was as much of a lush as he was, and drunken movie outings were a favorite pastime of theirs. She really did know him pretty well. A close friend that he could confide in and be comfortable around.

Mark sometimes really, really wished he wasn't in love with her.

---------

Mark got to the theater early to save seats, surreptitiously adding a few mini bottles of Jameson to his Coke. He didn't have long to wait before Kira plopped down in the seat next to him. Even in the semi-darkness of the theater, Mark couldn't help but look at her. Kira was, by any measurement, a beautiful woman. Her long, dirty blonde hair framed her hazel eyes perfectly; her smile was always radiant, dimples showing whenever she flashed her pearly whites. As if her face wasn't beautiful enough, Kira had a pair of the most magnificent breasts Mark had ever seen. It had been on a trip up to his family's cabin that Kira had gotten absurdly drunk and flashed him as a joke, and Mark had been trying to get another glimpse of them ever since. The lights dimmed, and her features faded into the darkness as the movie began.

Deadpool was fantastic, a breath of fresh air in a superhero genre that was rapidly growing stale. Mark and Kira continued to drink through the movie, and were so impressed with the reclining leather seats that they decided to grab some food and go back for another movie. Zoolander 2 was decidedly less impressive, but they had both drank enough by that point that they didn't care. Mark always loved the time he got to spend with Kira, even if it wasn't what he really wanted from her. But their friendship was important to him, a vital part of his life that he couldn't bring himself to risk by telling her how he really felt. Even if he had the courage, Mark was almost as afraid of Kira being afraid of him.

Mark was a large man, standing just over 6'3" with a powerfully built frame. His size made him seem imposing and intimidating to those that didn't know him, even if he was really just a big teddy bear. All the same, his size and strength made him very careful. Mark frequently referred to himself as Lenny, referencing "Of Mice and Men." It was a joke that usually went over well, even if Mark was only half kidding. It took a great deal to upset him, to truly make him angry, but when he was riled, Mark's fury was a terrifying sight indeed. The last time he had truly been angry, he'd walked in on some guy trying to sexually assault one of his dearest friends. Mark had snapped, flashed red, and beaten the man so badly he was hospital-bound for a month.

As the movie ended and the lights came back on, Mark risked one more glimpse at her entrancing visage before Kira could notice. As they stepped outside, Kira hugged him warmly, reminding him of their impending trip up the lake at the end of the month. Mark held her close for just a fraction of a second longer than he probably should have, and then forced himself to let go, fingers tingling from the contact. Outwardly, he smiled and said he was looking forward to it, while his brain screamed at him to just mount her right there in the parking lot. They waved goodbye and parted ways for the day.

----

Planning for lake trips was always a little bit of a challenge, with everyone's busy schedules often conflicting. Blissfully, there were no issues this time, although Kira's friend Katy got a little bit peeved about having to stop multiple times for things that had been forgotten.

Mark had made it up first, Kira close behind. As always, the first thing Mark did was crack a beer, walk down to the lake, and pour half of it out in the fire pit. He was sitting on one of the logs that served as a bench when he heard Kira approach from behind. She sat down and looked at Mark quizzically.

"You know, I've been up here with you probably a dozen times, and I don't think I've ever asked you why you do that."

Mark winced. Kira knew the story of his former fiancé, Dana. Mark had proposed toward the end of college, and Dana had said yes. Mark's overabundant joy had been short-lived, however. Three weeks after Dana had said 'Yes', and they were walking home from date night, a drunk driver had swerved to avoid sideswiping a car, hopped the curb, and hit Dana before swerving back onto the road and driving off into the night. She died before the ambulance could make it there, gasping out her last breath in Mark's arms.

"I proposed to her here."

Kira knew who 'her' was, and she could see the pain pass through Mark's face. She reached out and squeezed his hand gently before hugging him from the side.

"I'm sorry, sweetie."

"It's alright. It's been five years now. It stills hurts, but I can usually deal with it. Sometimes when I'm up here...it's just hard."

Kira gave his shoulder an extra squeeze, and both parties were spared from talking more about the painful subject with the arrival of the other guests. By that point, it was pretty late, and everyone had had to work that day, so it was agreed that the shenanigans and drinking would begin early the next morning.

By noon on Saturday, the five people up there had consumed almost a dozen bottles of champagne, and only 4 bottles of orange juice. In other words, the mimosas were strong. No one was feeling any pain as the group went through round after round of Cards Against Humanity. Mark had invited his friend Mike, and Katy had brought her friend Steve. They drank and laughed together late into the night, then moved into the sitting room with the TV to wind down and relax. That's when the trouble started. Steve had seemed to hit it off with Kira, who wasted no time sitting next to him on the couch. This would have been bad enough, but Steve seemed to take great pleasure in antagonizing Mark. Nothing obvious, just little one-liners, quips after Mark would say something, but over the course of the night it began to wear on Mark. To make matters worse, Kira was laughing right along with him.

Mark could feel the beginnings of anger seeping into the corners of his consciousness, bubbling up like a volcano ready to erupt. Don't let her see you like this. Mark excused himself, grabbing a bottle of Jameson as he retreated to the safety of the master bedroom. He stewed in his anger as he heard laughter continuing to come from the sitting room. He took a long pull of the Jameson straight from the bottle, took a deep breath, and then had another. He had thought someone would at least notice he was missing, or come check on him, or text him and wonder what was up, but no one did. Not Katy, Not Kira, not even Mike. Mark kept taking pulls out of the bottle until the alcohol took hold, drawing him down into a dreamless sleep.

-----

Sunday was a subdued affair. Everyone had been drinking pretty much the entire day Saturday, so no one was feeling very active or boisterous. As they packed into their various cars to leave after cleaning up, Kira pulled Mark aside.

"Hey, are you alright? You weren't really your happy-go-lucky self yesterday and you kind of vanished last night."

Mark was tired, and cranky, and more than a little pissed off, leading him to blurt out something stupid. He clambered into his car and started it, rolling down the window to reply.

"What, now you give a shit? Go have some more laughs at my expense with Steve."

With that final, biting comment, he reversed and spun gravel as he drove off, leaving Kira standing there, openmouthed in surprise.

Mark drove like a bat out of hell, ignoring the multiple call attempts from Kira. He ignored it when she tried to Snapchat him after he got home. He ignored her texts. He was tired of being a punch line. He was tired of being ignored. He was just fucking tired.

The next few weeks went by uneventfully, the monotony of the work week made no easier by Mark's continual bad mood. Kira had tried to call him a few more times, with Mark always swiping the 'reject' button on his screen. Finally she sent a message via text.

*Tux, I'm sorry if you thought I was being a bitch at the cabin. I really thought we were all just having a great time together. I don't like you and I not talking :(*

Mark struggled with her statement. Had he been overreacting? Had he just been playing the victim because he was upset that Kira was showing interest in another guy? That wasn't fair to her, especially since Mark had never had the balls to talk to her about his feelings in the first place. He could hardly blame her for not going along with something she had no idea existed, could he?

Mark hung his head shamefully. Maybe he was wrong.

*Hey, Kira. I'm sorry I was such an ass about that. Movie Sunday at our theater? Zootopia is supposed to be an awesome 'kid's movie for adults'.*

It was only minutes before he got a reply.

*Sure, love, is it okay if Katy comes?*

No, you dumbass, I just want to spend time with you.

*Of course it is! The more the merrier.*

Zootopia was actually a treat; a kid's movie made for adults. Mark, Kira, and Katy were laughing constantly, aided in no small part by the drinks they had snuck in. As the movie let out, it was agreed that food was in order. They made their way to a favorite local spot, a pizza place where Katy's old friend served as bartender. Needless to say, this led to their drinks being made far stronger than usual. The three friends chatted animatedly, Katy with another friend off to her left, Mark with Kira. They were feeling no pain at all when they received three shots from a random stranger on another barstool. Raising their glasses, they toasted him and put them back. An odd occurrence, but nothing to be worried about. However, it was only another few minutes before the mystery man sent another round their way and pulled himself over next to Mark. He introduced himself as Jeff. Mark and Kira politely greeted him while Katy was off talking to her friend. They were having a decent time, casually talking, when Jeff spoke up, addressing Mark.

"Hey, man, you mind if we switch places?"

Over my cold and broken corpse.

Mark was about to tell the guy to take a hike when Kira cut in.

"Sure, that'd be fine."

Put out, but with no real available alternative, Mark got up to switch seats with Kira, taking the time to excuse himself to the bathroom. As he washed his hands, he looked into the mirror, fuming. Every time. Every time they got together, Mark was a valued friend until someone else stepped into the room. Then he was cast aside like a worn-out shirt.

Dude, chill out. Don't get angry here. Don't lose control. Relax and enjoy the free beer.

But even as he resumed his seat smack in between Katy and Kira, he couldn't be heard. Try as he might over the next twenty minutes, he couldn't seem to break into either conversation. Finally, after staring at his phone screen mindlessly for another ten minutes, he pushed off his barstool and walked out the door without another word. It was half an hour later when the messages began. The first one was snapchat. Mark received the notification, and pulled up the photo to see Katy and Kira looking into the camera. The caption was asking if he had left without saying goodbye. Mark ignored it. Five minutes later, a text message buzzed in from Kira.

*You alive?*

*Hello?*

Mark ignored them both. Another ten minutes went by.

*We're worried about you.*

Yeah, you seemed really worried when I left.

Another message.

*Please just message me something, Tux.*

Mark ignored her. There was nothing to say. They both took him for granted until he wasn't around. Well, fuck them both. That night Mark drove down to Tacoma to see one of his fuckbuddies. At least with Nicole he knew where he stood. He wasn't much more than a living, breathing dildo to Nicole, but he could make her orgasm over and over without rest, and she was very, very appreciative of his talents. He shouldn't even have been driving at that point, but he didn't care. He drove his car faster and faster, his foot pressing harder on the gas pedal as his anger grew. He blazed down the freeway, heedless of his own safety. That night, he ignored the multiple calls and texts from Katy and Kira as he hatefucked Nicole. There was no nuance, no intimacy, just raw animal lust, Mark's anger and rage vented in the forceful sex that made Nicole scream Mark's name as she rambled incoherently through her powerful orgasms. Like usual, though, the satisfaction was fleeting, and as Mark drove back to his house, the clock ticking past 2 AM, the sadness set back in. He just wanted to feel loved. He just wanted to be seen.

Kira tried to call twice more that week, and Mark rejected both calls. Even if he had wanted to talk to her in that moment, he wouldn't have known what to say. But the silence ate at him. Trying to put his mind to his work and ignoring Kira only made him think of her more. Finally, Mark broke down and sent Kira a text.

*Can I call you when I get off work tonight? I need to talk to you*

*Sure. Everything okay?*

Mark declined to respond. Let her wonder, he thought to himself, spending much of the work day occupied with what he was going to say, practicing every variation he could think of. Finally, he was ready to clock out. He ran through the rainstorm that had sprung up, closing his car door and dialing Kira's number.

"Hey, Kira."

"Hey babe, what's going on?"

Mark winced. Her habit of calling him 'love', 'sweetie', and 'babe' was going to hurt both of them tonight, even if Kira didn't know it yet. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing bigger as he forced the words out of his mouth.

"Well...shit, I had this. I've been practicing this speech all day, and now I'm talking to you and fucking it all up. Shit."

"Calm down, I'll wait. Finish your thought."

Mark took a deep breath and forged ahead. "Last Sunday was really awful for me. I kind of had this epiphany while we were eating, a realization. Kind of a straw that broke the camel's back sort of thing."

Mark could almost see Kira's scrunched up look of puzzlement as she replied. "Okay..."

"I mean, it's important for you to know this isn't about sex. I mean, if I didn't want to keep being rejected by you, I wouldn't keep hitting on you every 10 seconds."

"Okay, Mark, you're starting to make me nervous. What's going on?"

Suddenly, the words started, and Mark, to his horror, found he couldn't stop. "Kira, I really feel like you don't see me. Like wherever we go or whoever we're with, I'm the least important person in the room. I feel like you're just humoring me. Like I'm...Jesus, I don't know, like I'm your kid brother, or a mascot, or....or just fucking invisible. I mean, on Sunday, I was trying to talk to you and Katy for a full twenty minutes. I was literally between the both of you, and neither of you could be bothered to even acknowledge that I was trying to be a part of the conversation. Hell, after I slipped off, it took you guys another twenty minutes to even notice I was gone. You always seem super interested in my life for all of about five minutes, and then it's like I'm not even there." Damn you, do NOT start crying. Mark took another steadying breath.

"I honestly don't think you take me seriously, Kira. Like, if I told you something important, you'd laugh it off, but if another of your friends told you the exact same thing, you'd take it as Gospel. I...I don't feel real to you, do I?"

Mark was surprised by the emotion in Kira's voice as she responded, although whether it was anger or sadness, he couldn't tell.

"God, Mark, I'm so sorry you feel that way. I can't believe that...listen...okay, first of all, Katy and I noticed you were gone right away. We thought you were in the bathroom. Hell, we even sent people in there to check on you. When you weren't there, we figured you were outside, and when you weren't there...well, that's when I texted you and asked for you to please just message anything back. We were really worried about you!"

Mark started as he heard her voice catch, and his suspicions were confirmed as she continued, voice quavering.

"Look, Katy and I care about you a lot. We really do. God knows you and I have been through some fucked up shit over the last four years. But in our defense, Mark, this is something that you do. When you get upset, you disappear. You run away, so Katy and I can't tell what's wrong. We can't ask you about it, or read your face, or anything, because you just vanish."

"I don't like people seeing me that way, Kira, you know that." And I don't want you to be afraid of me.

"Yeah, but Mark, that's part of the problem. You never let anyone in. Not all the way. Not enough to see the real you. It's not fair for you to tell me that you're invisible to me when you're the one putting up the walls."

Mark's courage evaporated. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to end the call, to get away from the discomfort of the situation.

"Okay, good talk. I've got a long drive back home, so I'll talk to you later."

"No, Mark. You're trying to sidestep again. This isn't resolved. You're still not talking to me, and you're trying to run away again."

"And you're any better?" Mark's anger came roaring back, burning bright as ever. "I've told you everything, Kira. You know me as well as I've ever let anyone know me, besides maybe Mike. Can you say the same? Do you let me in?"

"Look, there are some people I'm more comfortable talking to. Some people I confide everything in, and I've known them most of my life. We talk about a lot of things, Mark, but there are always going to be some things that I'm just more comfortable talking about with other people, and there are some things I'm not going to tell you."

It was a perfectly reasonable response. Logical, even. But Mark, for all his courage and honesty that night, still couldn't bring himself to tell Kira how badly she had just hurt him. She'd basically said that she wasn't comfortable with him. That he wasn't worth sharing her secrets with. For all her talk and friendly words, Mark was secondary in her life. He fought back the tears as she continued.