Beauty and The Beast

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"Look, I lose touch with people sometimes. It happens. I get wrapped up in my own life, and forget about people, and forget to check in with them." Excuses, Mark thought. However, his anger abated quickly as Kira continued.

I don't mean to, and...God, Mark, now you've got me crying. I don't want you to think that I don't see you, or that your friendship isn't important to me, or that I don't value you, or care about having you in my life. I don't want to lose your friendship; I don't want you to feel this way about me! What can I do? Tell me, please, what can I do to make this better? I hate that you feel like this."

Mark was utterly taken aback. Kira was crying? Kira? The iron-willed Valkyrie that had been such an important part of his life was crying. Because of him. Mark hadn't thought he could feel worse, but in that moment, he certainly did. Why can't I say anything right around her? You're a professional salesman, and everyone you know labels you as 'charming'. So why the FUCK can't you just TALK to her???

"Don't cry. Kira, seriously, you asked me what you could do. Please, please don't cry. Not because of someone like me."

"Okay. But does that make sense? You say you want us to be part of your life, Mark, but you bail whenever things get too real for you. I'll try and be better about staying in touch and checking in, but you've got to understand that...well, it's hard to be your friend sometimes."

That did it. The tears flowed freely now, silently streaming down Mark's face, a mirror of the torrential downpour outside. He tried valiantly to keep his voice level despite the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing.

"Well, I'll try and be better about that too, then. I've really got to go, it's a long drive back and the weather's getting worse. Goodnight, Kira."

The words burned acridly in his throat as he hung up, his normally bright eyes dull and puffy from the tears. He'd finally done it. He'd actually talked to Kira about some of what he was feeling, albeit still holding back. This isn't a victory, he thought to himself as he drove away from work, foot pushing down steadily harder on the gas pedal as he thought through the conversation he'd just had. All you did was make her cry. All you did was drive us further apart. He'd said goodnight, but it felt a lot more like goodbye.

--------

The next few weeks passed in a blur for Mark. To the casual observer, he was fine. He went to work, laughed and joked with his coworkers, and went out with friends when he had a day off. Inside, however, he was a wreck, his conversation with Kira etched in his mind, replaying itself again and again. He wanted nothing more than to talk to her, to call her and just apologize to make everything okay. But Mark caught himself. That was what he always did. He was so stupidly in love with Kira that even being miserable around her was better than nothing. He'd bottled his emotions up for years, deathly afraid that being honest, completely honest with her, for fear of driving her away. He'd had enough. Being held at arm's length wasn't enough anymore. Being a casual friend wasn't enough. He knew now that Kira would probably never reciprocate his feelings, but he needed more.

Fortunately, Kira texted him first. Mark had been cleaning his room when he found an old pocket watch, the last gift that Dana had given him. Impulsively, he had added it to his Snapchat story with a sad emoji. It was apparently enough to pique her curiosity.

*Hey, Tux. What's with the watch?*

Mark looked at the text for a long time, paralyzed with indecision. Should he just ignore her? Give her a taste of her own medicine for once? No. He'd hidden long enough.

*It was the last gift Dana gave me before she died. It was stuffed into the back of my closet and I found it while I was cleaning.*

*You doing okay? Need a friend?*

Mark took another long pause before replying.

*That would be great. I'm actually going to go up to the lake for a few days. Do some hiking, go into Leavenworth. Any interest in joining?*

Mark held his breath for what seemed like hours before he got a reply

*That sounds fun :)*

Kira had to work before Mark wanted to come back, so the two decided to drive separately. Mark beat Kira up to the lake by an hour or so, and he busied himself stoking the fire and turning on the water. By the time Kira pulled into the driveway, the fire was roaring and the house was beginning to warm up.

After settling in and getting unpacked, Kira and Mark agreed that a night out in Leavenworth would be fun. The town was modeled after old Bavaria, and every building looked like something out of the early 1900's. It was a little gimmicky, sure, but it was a fun little tourist trap town. They bellied up to the bar at Mark's favorite watering hole, the Duck and Drake. Shortly, they each had a tall pint of beer and a plate full of delicious German food. It wasn't long, however, that their easygoing night took a nasty turn.

It started innocently enough. The bartender served Kira another beer. When she said that she hadn't ordered anything, the bartender shrugged and cocked his head at an overweight, foul-looking man at the end of the bar. Sure enough, as Kira looked over, he raised his glass and smiled broadly. Kira gave a polite smile in return, and then continued her conversation with Mark. Meanwhile, the redneck at the end of the bar kept slugging down shots of whiskey. Eventually, he seemed to have enough liquid courage and slid off his barstool, ambling over while Mark and Kira chatted. The bar had hidden an ample gut, and the man's breath reeked of liquor as he loomed over Kira.

"Hey there, little lady. How about a dance?"

"No thanks, I'm out with my friend and I really don't feel like dancing."

"Come on, sweetie, I bought you that drink. The least you can do is spare me a dance."

Kira looked down her nose at him, her lack of interest plain on her face.

"This is a bar, not a lounge, there's nowhere to dance even if I wanted to, and as I said, I don't."

"Come on now, girlie. Don't be a tease."

As he spoke, the drunken redneck grabbed Kira's wrist and practically pulled her off the barstool. Kira's face went from one of annoyance to one of panic as she realized that she couldn't pull away.

"Hey, I said no! Who the fuck do you think you are?!? STOP!"

Mark had been content to let Kira deal with him. She was used to dealing with drunks hitting on her, and Mark knew she could take care of herself. But the second he heard the panic in Kira's voice, he snapped. Mark leapt off his stool, and grabbed the redneck's wrist. It was the work of an instant to squeeze as hard as he could, hearing a snap as he forced the man to let go of Kira. Spinning around, the redneck swung and hit Mark in the face. Such was Mark's rage that he barely felt the impact, head turned only slightly by the sloppy punch. He slowly turned his head back to face his assailant, eyes burning with a light that Kira had never seen before. She felt an inexplicable shiver run through her as Mark spoke, his words icy in their tone and dangerous in their intent.

"First one's free. Next one's going to cost you."

Undeterred, the foolish drunk took another wide, loping swing at Mark's head, only to hit thin air as Mark ducked underneath the lazy blow. He stood quickly, left hand jabbing forward and connecting with the man's chin, rocking his head back. Mark quickly followed the jab with a devastating hook that connected with his opponent's jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. The fight was done, but Mark wasn't. He practically fell on top of the man and pulled himself into a full mount, raining down blows on Kira's attacker. His wrath surging unchecked, Mark could barely hear Kira screaming at him to stop as he pounded the redneck into the floor. Finally, Mark was pulled off by several other men and thrown from the bar, along with Kira and the drunk. While the redneck cowered in the corner of the alley they found themselves in, Mark was trying desperately to calm down. His body still shaking from the adrenaline, Mark looked down to see his knuckles running red with blood, some of it the redneck's, some of it his from the wounds on his hands. He looked up to see Kira, eyes wide with shock and fear. Mark could feel his heart sinking. Four years of keeping himself bottled up, of trying so hard to keep Kira from seeing him like this, gone. Wasted. Mark had gotten what he asked for.

Kira could see him now.

And she looked terrified.

Unable to cope, unable to look at the fear on her face any longer, Mark did what he always did; what Kira had accused him of that night he had tried to talk to her. He ran. He ran as fast as he could, lungs burning as he sprinted back to the lake house. Slamming the door as he entered, he fell to the floor of the bathroom, still shaking, still barely able to comprehend what had just happened.

-------

Mark didn't know how long he was in there. It could have been minutes or hours before he heard a gentle knocking on the door.

"Mark? Mark, can I come in?"

He didn't say anything. He couldn't. He was completely frozen.

The door opened, and Kira stepped in. Mark didn't want to look at her. He couldn't bear to see that look on her face again. He felt her fingers on his chin a split second before she tilted his head up, her eyes searching his for something. What it was she was looking for, Mark didn't know. Kira stared into his soul for another minute, and then wordlessly grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink. She took his hand professionally, dabbing at the cuts on his knuckles with some kind of stinging antibiotic before wrapping his hand in a long bandage.

Kira's closeness knocked Mark out of his stupor.

"Kira..."

He was silenced by a single finger pushed against his lips. Kira looked at him again, almost curiously, before taking his face in her hands and softly kissing him. Kira's full lips touching his own ignited a shockwave that raced through his body.

"Thank you."

Mark was stunned. This was a very different reaction than he had been expecting.

"What?"

"I said thank you. For stopping that asshole."

"I...Kira...I never wanted you to see me like that. Ever."

"And here I always thought you were just playing off the whole Hulk thing when you said 'You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.'"

Mark managed a faint smile as Kira hugged him, holding him close the entire time.

"I was so scared, Kira. For so long. I was terrified that you'd be afraid of me if you saw this side of me."

She looked at him before resting her head on his shoulder.

"This is why you always run away, isn't it?" Kira could feel a little shudder run through him as she spoke.

"Yes. It's why I ran away from the pizza joint. It's why I disappeared for a while at the last lake trip. I'm afraid...I'm afraid of people being afraid of me."

Kira stood up and gently pulled Mark along with her until they reached the living room. She sat him down on the couch, then sat down next to him and cuddled under his arm. They stayed that way for a long time, silently staring into the fire.

Kira was calm, outwardly, but her mind was going a million miles an hour. So many things made sense now. Mark's hesitance, his constant reassuring that he meant everything he said in an innocent way. The reason he ran away from his problems when confronted with them was crystal clear. He didn't run away because he didn't want to fight. He ran away from the fights because he knew he'd win. He ran away because he didn't want people- didn't want her- to see him so savage, so terrible in his fury. But down beneath the rage, beneath the self-doubt and fear, he was still Tux. He was still Mark. He was still her friend. He was important to her, maybe more than she had allowed herself to believe.

Mark was more than content. He was relieved. He was confused. He was ecstatic that Kira had seemingly accepted him, rage and all. They had sat together for so long that Mark gave a little start when Kira spoke.

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"I can see you."

He looked down quizzically, a split second before Kira's lips found his again. This time it was much more than a chaste kiss. She kissed him deeply, languidly, taking her time as she softly stroking Mark behind his ears. Mark didn't know what to do. It was every fantasy he had ever had come to life. Kira seemed to sense his hesitation and took his hands in her own, gently guiding them to her hips as she continued making out with him. Her hands traced trails of fire over his body, caressing his broad shoulders and running up to cup his face. Kira began kissing him more fervently now, tongue probing as she held his face, devouring him, kissing him as though he had the last breath of air on the planet in his lungs.

Kira's eagerness spurred Mark into action. He gripped her hips a little harder, and started kissing her back, tongues dueling as Mark pressed Kira close to him. Emboldened, his hands trailed down to cup her firm, tight ass and squeeze, pulling her even closer. He felt her nimble fingers working the buttons of his polo seconds before she broke away to pull it over his head, admiring his well-built frame as she resumed kissing him. His fingers tightened on her hips, and he gave a small hiss and pulled away, sharply turning his head to the side. Kira grabbed his chin and made him look her in the eye.

"Mark! Mark, what's wrong?"

The look in his eyes was so full of pain, so full of hurt, that in that moment Kira wanted to do anything she could to wipe it away. Mark shuddered again and closed his eyes, still afraid.

"I don't want to hurt you."

Kira cupped his face and kissed him again firmly.

"You won't."

With that, she pulled her own shirt off, revealing her magnificent breasts clad only in a lacy red bra.

The sight drover Mark forward again, nibbling and kissing at Kira's neck as his hands crept slowly upwards until they were just beneath her chest. But here he lingered again, still hesitant, still seeking an unspoken permission for fear of rejection. Kira was a little put off. She had given every signal, every okay, and Mark was still holding back. Honestly, she liked a little more confidence in her men, and despite her desire to be there for Mark, she didn't want to mislead him. Somewhat reluctantly, Kira reached back and undid the clasp on her bra, letting it fall to the floor by the fireside.

It was as if she flipped a switch. Mark's hands went in opposite directions, on hand darting up to cup her full, inviting breast, even as his other hand slid for the waistband of her pants. With a dexterity Kira wouldn't have given mark credit for, he slipped his hand past her thong and ran it in teasing circles around her entrance. His hand went from gently cupping her breast to applying more pressure, squeezing the flesh even as he rolled her nipple between his fingers.

Kira's mind spun with the change in behavior. Mark had gone from being timid and hesitant to an eager, confident, lover. She had always thought that Mark would be a delicate, gentle lay, based on his personality. She knew in the second that he took control that she was wrong. Mark wasn't going to treat her like a flower, something soft and pretty to be delicately considered. He was going to consume her, devour her, the subject of his unbridled lust. Mark's teasing touches below her waist had Kira moving her hips trying to find his fingers, and he knew exactly how to caress and squeeze her chest. It was just on the right side of being too much. His lips hungrily attacked her neck, ranging from just under her jaw to behind Kira's ear, a spot she deeply appreciated him finding.

Mark knew that whatever magic had sparked this night, this moment, it might never happen again, and he was determined to make Kira remember every second of it. His lips began trailing down Kira's body, kissing a figure eight around her perfect breasts, never going so far as to touch her nipples despite their hardness. All the while, his hand played a maddening dance around her thighs, teasing, stroking, touching, but always circling. Kira's hips bucked with frustrated need, desperately wanting Mark to stop teasing her, to finally give her what Kira hadn't even known she'd wanted. But Mark had other ideas.

Mark wanted to hold her on that razor sharp edge of orgasm as long as possible. He knew from experience that the longer he could maintain that delicate balance without tipping her over, the longer and more powerful her inevitable orgasm would be. He kissed, nibbled and licked his way down her toned stomach, noting with delight how she squirmed as he continued his delightful yet torturous work. Finally, just before Kira was about to scream in sexually frustrated agony, Mark acted.

Quickly, he slid down the length of her body, his lips finding her clit with unerring precision. Kira barely had time to take a breath to moan when Mark's tongue went wild, curling and lapping against her clit rapidly, the short, sharp licks made all the more intense by his hands finally finding Kira's erect nipples. This time she did let out a loan, low moan, her hand reaching down of its own accord to take a fistful of Mark's hair. She wasn't pulling on it, not yet, but that simple gesture let Mark know that he had better not move anytime soon. Far from being done, Kira's hand only encouraged Mark, who eagerly lapped away at Kira like it was the last meal he'd ever have. Her moans quickly grew into short, sharp pants, her hips rolling so fiercely that it was all Mark could do to keep his mouth around her clit. Still, Mark mischievously kept Kira on the edge, until she managed a single word in between her moans.

"Please..."

As if it was the signal he had been waiting for, Mark firmly pushed two fingers deep inside Kira, barely able to proceed as the walls of her pussy clamped down vise-like on him. She shrieked as Mark fingered her, fingers curling as if to beckon her forward from inside her own body. The motion scraped against her g-spot with every thrust, and Kira could feel herself falling over the edge. Mark's tongue continued its talented work, lips keeping Kira's clit trapped as she screamed her orgasm into the pillows. Mark didn't even bother to slow down, using the same insistent motions until Kira shrieked again, her thighs clamping down around Mark's head as she came explosively. Mark could feel his face being covered with her juices, and he couldn't care less. He kept going, determined to push Kira into heights of pleasure she'd never before experienced. Her eyes rolled back into her head as Mark forced another orgasm out of her. It was so intense, so raw, and Kira felt so out of control. It was an entirely new sensation for her and she reveled in it, gasping for air as she came again. In all her life, she had never been able to keep orgasming after one or two, and now she was on her fifth. Just as the sensation would become too much, Mark switched his pressure, focusing on her G-spot until her clit was able to be touched again, then switching. How long he kept alternating between her clit and g-spot, Kira didn't know. She was in Heaven and never wanted it to end.

Kira was so outside of her head with pleasure that she barely noticed when Mark's fingers pulled away. She did notice when something much larger pushed against her, then plunged inside of her in one slow, long stroke. God was it long. Kira had, of course, known that Mark was a large man. He could practically break her spine with a hug when he was excited, but that didn't always translate to...other areas. Fortunately, it was certainly the case with Mark. But more than being long, he was so thick that every stroke stretched Kira to her very limit. She cried out as Mark bottomed out inside her, then began thrusting with smooth, rolling motions that continued to push her into higher heights of pleasure. Kira clutched at Mark's back, nails dragging furrows into his skin even as she bit down into his shoulder, trying not to scream even louder. Mark's thrusts sped up, thrusting into Kira harder and faster, his hands kneading her ass, pulling her even deeper onto his prodigious cock. Their bodies locked together as they were, Kira felt it when Mark's thrusts started losing their rhythm, and she knew he was close. She rocked her hips until they blurred, doing whatever she could to make the electricity running through her body last just a second longer.