Gay Agenda

The Gay Agenda 10

Chapter 10

My eyes stare at Silk. He looks back at me. His hand crutches around the gun as it aims at me. He is ready to take his shot. I don't get it. I don't get why my friend...is trying to kill me.

“It was you before, wasn't it?” I ask him, “You tried to kill me before.”

I remember the assassin coming to try to kill me on the train. It was the reason that we hired Silk in the first place. Little did we know that the person who we had hired to protect me was the same person who was trying to kill me in the first place.

“Yes,” he admits.

He doesn't have any emotion. It's unlike Silk. His eyes stare blankly at me ready to kill me. As I look at him it's almost as though he barely recognizes me.

“Why?”

“They can't get away with it. They just can't.”

Silk points his gun at me. I hold my breath. He has ample opportunity to pull the trigger but he isn't...not yet at least. He's hesitating. I don't understand it. I'm bleeding out and Silk can finish me off right now but right now he is still hesitating.

“Who? Silk? Who can't get away with what?” I ask him.

I don't understand what he's saying. He's not making any sense. I stand up at that moment. I take a few steps towards Silk.

“Don't move.”

“Silk. I'm your bestfriend...I'm your bestfriend.”

“Don't you take another FUCKING step!”

He's still hesitating. He hasn't shot me. All of a sudden the door opens from behind Silk! Silk turns around and shoots at whoever is at the door. A scream comes from outside of the door.

It's now or never.

I have to make a move.

So I do it! I jump! My heart beats faster than it's ever beat before when I jump through the air. I can feel my heart race as Silk is swinging his body back towards me. Before I know it the gun is pointed back towards me.

It goes off!

I'm not hit. I'm not hit again. I'm too close to him. I can feel myself wrestling with Silk. He's so strong. My heart races over and over as we struggle for the gun at that moment. I'm on the floor rolling around but he's way too strong. He manages to get on top of me but we are both holding onto the gun. Silk's heavy metallic limbs hold me down to the floor. I can feel the pressure on my limbs as he presses me down against the floor.

I can't die like this. I can't die like this.

The thought races through my head over and over as I hold onto that gun with every strength I have left in me. My heart is racing. I can't let go of this gun. If I let go of this gun. I'm dead.

He begins to pry at my fingers. I don't stand a chance.

So I do the only thing I can do.

I scream!

“SILK!”

My voice pierces through the room at the heighest pitch that I can muster. It surprises him for a second! A second is the only thing I need...

...I manage to turn the gun. I manage to pull the trigger.

Silk falls to the ground in a heavy thud.

“Aren't you the headliner,” a voice says when I wake up.

I'm in something that seems like a hospital. It's no kind of hospital that I recognize from the Breeding grounds but I assume it's a hospital because of the clothing I have on. The room I'm in is very high tech. Robots scan me from every which way. There is a woman standing there and I notice she is the one speaking to me.

“Who are you?” I ask.

My voice is desperate and confused. I don't know where I am. I feel light headed. I know it has to be from the blood. I never could really stand the sight of blood.

“You're safe,” she tells me, “You're in the Educational Hospital. Emergency unit. I have a relative of yours in the waiting room. Should I bring him in?”

I'm still confused but a part of me feels like I'd love to see Marcel right now.

“Yes.”

She nods and leaves. In the next few minutes someone walks into the room but it isn't Marcel. It's my father. Nazarius. Nazarius stands there for a minute. He's not alone. I didn't think he would be. He's with an assistant, his campaign manager and a few members of the press. Nazarius isn't shy to walk up to me and wrap his arm around my shoulder at that moment. A camera flashes. I'm not surprised.

“What the hell is going on here?” I ask him.

Nazarius has tears in his eyes as he looks over at the camera then looks at me, “Don't you know? You were almost assassinated by a cyborg. Luckily my people found you and you were rushed off to the hospital. I was so concerned.”

“I'm sure that's what you would like your headline to read isn't it?” I ask him, “Concerned father rushes to his son's side? Is that the story you are feeding the journalists?”

The journalists look at one another. I feel like I must have embarrassed my father because his eyes get wide. A part of me enjoys watching him look like a deer stuck in headlights as I call him out on his bullshit. The journalists begin to write faster on their notepads in the next few seconds and Nazarius doesn't seem so interested any longer in having them around.

“Can I please have some privacy with my son?” Nazarius asks the reporters, “This is a very delicate moment...”

The man has no shame. It's as though he didn't walk these journalists in here a few minutes ago and pose at the side of my bed. Now all of a sudden he wanted privacy. His assistant seems intent on rushing the reporters out of the room in the next moment.

“Why are you here?” I ask Nazarius.

“You were almost killed.”

“Clearly. So I'm going to ask you again. Why are you here?”

I'm far more suspicious than I let on. Nazarius is standing at my side and crosses his arms at that moment.

“I know you don't particularly care for me son, but you are...my son,” he tells me in the most patronizing way possible, “Believe it or not I do care about your well-being.”

“I'm fine. I've been fine for a long time without you caring about me.”

“Right. Silk took care of you. Isn't it? The same Silk that just tried to kill you. Right? So tell me, exactly how fine are you?”

My father looks down at me as though I'm a defenseless child. A part of me feels like a child with how he looks at me. I hate him so much. I hate the fact that he abandoned me all those years ago and now he's back only for a press opportunity. He could care less about what happened to me and I know it. All he cares about is his own future. Family. Loyalty. Those things mean nothing to him. He's a monster and I can tell a mile away.

“Get out,” a voice says.

Luckily Marcel is standing at the door. I've never been so happy to see him in my life. He grimaces at my father. Marcel isn't alone either. His security is with him. So is Cid, Cid's assistant Remus and the Lesbians. They all hover at the door in a protective stance.

My father doesn't seem to be too concerned with Marcel standing there. He actually smiles instead.

“First you cheat on my son and then you abandon him to almost get killed,” my father says shaking his head, “I wonder how the media is going to look at this. You can't take care of your own husband how do you plan on taking care of a nation?”

“Get out,” Marcel repeats.

My father snickers. A low, blunt snicker but he does what he says and he leaves the room with his people. They don't say another word. His energy lasts in the room though. I feel so much hate and disdain for him. He never cares about anything else but himself.

Natasha and Latosha crowd around me. They make a big fuss for a few minutes while Marcel just stands at the door. He doesn't say anything. He's pacing around clearly trying to calm down. Cid seems like he's trying to calm Marcel down and whispers things but Marcel isn't having it.

Marcel finally stops pacing when his eyes meet mine.

“Are you ok?” he asks me.

“I think so.”

Cid is at the foot of my bed, “The doctors say he was just grazed by a bullet. They say he's fine. Everything will be ok.”

“EVERYTHING IS NOT OK!” Marcel barks.

Marcel is so loud and demanding that even Cid takes a few steps back. I have to admit his booming voice makes me sit up on my hospital bed a little bit. Marcel isn't a politician right now. He's uncouth and angry. I can see the bitterness in him. There is nothing like this.

“Silk is...still alive,” Cid replies, “He's in surgery and if he survives it, I'll have people on standby. We'll find out why he would try to kill Marx.”

Marcel shakes his head, “That's not good enough! Ok! Torture him. Figure it out Cid. This is on you! You hired that piece of shit Cyborg! I want justice or your fucking fired. You hear me!”

Cid shakes his head, “Fire me? Marcel I'm doing all I can...”

“DO BETTER!”

I feel bad for Cid at that moment. Marcel is definitely crossing into an angrier and more aggressive stance. As I look at him standing there I don't even recognize him really. He seems so upset. He seems so lost and confused.

I found myself grabbing onto his fingers and holding them.

“Marcel, calm down,” I say.

I don't know if this will work but I play with his fingers for a while. Before today I would have thought it was a cold day in hell that I was the one who was going to calm Marcel down, but that's exactly what is happening.

Marcel seems calmer now but he looks at Cid and the others, “Clear the room. My husband needs rest. And I don't want to see any one else until I have answers...”

Cid and the others nod and leave the room. I can tell they know that Marcel means business. When I look at him even though there is so much anger and frustration I can tell that he is demanding his respect. I am looking at him in a different way. They are afraid of him. Marcel is a source of power here and it is clear by the way he talks.

When we are alone in the room his face softens. He looks down at me. He's so handsome. His soft eyes are like clouds floating above me, blocking out the fierce sun. He protects me with them. He rubs his hands on me. They are well-trimmed and polished but still hard and manly. That is the best way to describe Marcel. Somehow he is composed of masculinity and polish.

“I thought I lost you,” he tells me.

He almost whispers it. My heart skips a beat.

“Don't tell me you're getting soft on me,” I smile, “Not the same guy who hated being around me...”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Why not? We're alone.”

“I never hated being around you punk,” he replies shaking his head, “You make me nervous. You always have. It was the opposite. I wanted to be around you all the time. Since I first met you. I hope you don't ever think I would abandon you like your father said right.”

I shake my head. I remember what happened. Marcel was pulled away. He didn't abandon me.

“I know,” I reply, “I don't blame you. Truthfully I don't know who to blame besides Silk. He was...he was my friend.”

“Was he?” Marcel asks, “How much do you know that guy?

“He was a friend of mine.”

That doesn't seem enough for Marcel, “You are so naive. It's what I like about you but it's also dangerous to think like that. I never trusted Silk. He was always...hovering. Didn't you notice?”

I did notice.

“I thought he was just worried.”

“Worried on how he was going to kill you. That guy always had an issue with you being gay.”

“Still to kill me over it?” I ask shaking my head, “I don't know. It just doesn't add up.”

Marcel shakes his head, “Listen, get some rest. I don't want you sitting around worrying about shit like this. I'll make sure security is doubled. And I'll double check who our security is...personally. I don't care if it's your friend or not. Get some rest.”

“Marcel.”

“Yeah punk?”

“Don't leave,” I reply and pause for a minute, “I mean. I'm not scared. Or nothin'. Just. Don't want to be alone. You know.”

He laughs, “Yeah, yeah. I know. Not that you're not scared. I mean you did fight a cyborg and win. I'm not worried about you but I'll stick around. Tired of sleeping on the train anyway. You know. Something new. Or...whatever...”

I don't care what excuse he gives himself. I don't care what excuse I give myself. All I care about is the fact that Marcel lays next to me.

He spoons me on the small bed. At first he just strokes my arm a few times nervously but in the next few minutes he is holding me close. His groin rubs into me. I breathe heavy. We both breathe in unison. I can feel him so close to me. I love it.

“Marcel?”

“What's up?”

“You sleep?”

“If I was asleep I would be snoring, not talking.”

“Marcel stop being a smart ass.”

“What do you want punk?” he asks me.

“You're hard. You're dick is poking me...” I tell him.

He pauses for a moment, “Stop moving your hips so much then. You're doing it on purpose.”

“I'm trying to get comfortable,” I reply, “I can't help it. You should at least be able to help your hard-on....”

“Can we go one night without arguing?” he asks, “You did almost get killed for godsakes.”

“I'm not arguing...I'm just...nevermind...”

I lay back down. I try to stay as still as I can. Marcel stays hard though. His dick is still poking me. It's has a life of his own and it's growing and growing. I can feel it rubbing up and down my leg. I have to admit it feels so fucking good. I can't help but to get turned on by it. In the next few minutes I am gyrating my hips a little bit.

“See...there you go. Can you just say that you want to get fucked and get over with...”

I can't believe him.

“Oh my fuckin' god! You are SO cocky,” I reply.

I attempt to get up annoyed at that moment but as I attempt to get up I am pulled back on the bed. Marcel is over me now. His eyes look down at me. He has a smile on his face.

“You're so sensitive to everything I say,” he replies, “I like that. Why do you let me have such an effect on you?”

I don't know. It's the question that I've thought about so many times myself. He always has such an effect on me. Whether it is good or bad. Marcel always has an effect on me. I just don't understand it. I don't get it. It never seems to make any sense. Even now he has me pinned down to the bed. He adjusts his body between my thighs. His hard dick presses up against the inner pockets of my groin. His lips are only inches away from mine.

“I don't know...” is the only thing that I can manage to reply.

“Well I want to figure it out.”

With that Marcel kisses me. His tongue is wet and aggressive. It reaches down into my mouth as though reaching for something. I am kissing him back. Passionate. That emotion is there. That desire. That hate. That passion. That annoyance. All the different emotions that only Marcel brings to me show their ugly face almost immediately.

“Marcel...damn...Marcel...” I'm moaning.

It's for good reason too. Marcel is kissing my chest. He's undressing me. He begins kissing my nipples. The sides of my stomach. My abdomen. My navel. He makes his way back up to my stomach.

He pants. His breathing is heavy as though expressing desire without using words. His licks his fingers. Drools on it really. The wet fingers tickle my asscheeks, moistening me and making me wet for him.

I know what's happening as soon as it happens. Marcel is naked now. His manly body is over me like a dark protective shadow. He reaches down again with a kiss. His mouth is even wetter now. Saliva trickles into my mouth.

“I can't believe this is happening,” he says.

It's a strange thing to say as we had sex before but I guess it didn't mean anything before. Now it meant everything. Now he was over me and he's looking into my eyes. The emotion is real. I can feel the emotion even as he aggressively picks up one of my legs and puts it over my shoulders.

He thrusts forward.

“UGH!”

The single thrust is deep. He holds it in there and he holds his breath. The world stops. In the next few minutes the thrusts continue. They get deeper. They get harder. He is fucking me and I am feeling the entire world close in around us. He goes deeper and harder. He holds me at my throat and I can feel myself wanting it. Needing it. I grab onto Marcel's ass cheeks. They are tight and muscular. I glide him into me. We keep pace. We're both panting. We're both making noises. It feels so wet. It feels so good. He doesn't stop kissing me.

The rhythm seems to be like the beat of a marching drum. We are in sync with our breathing. We are in sync with his thrusts. I can feel his body shudder and I want him. I want my husband to nut deep inside of me and I want to take every last bit of him.

“I love you!” I tell him.

I don't know why I say it. I don't know why it springs out of my mouth. I am embarrassed at that moment. I am beyond embarrassed. I can't believe I say it. I don't know what I'm thinking. I'm hoping that he doesn't hear it.

He doesn't respond...even if he does hear it.

Instead he just takes one last deep thrust...releasing into me and holding it there for a few minutes. His muscular, clean shaven body collapses on top of me with the scent of masculine sex. And he falls asleep cradling me.

========================================================================================================

I am taken back to the train the next day. There is no word on what's going on really but I'm surprised when we leave out of the Education district. I'm not sure what the next stop is. I don't really care. I'm slowly becoming over this tour. I'm becoming over the danger and the mistrust. I'm over all of it. I don't trust these people and it's becoming worse. Not even the good food or the amazing technology can make up for getting shot at. Shit is definitely going over the edge. But then I wonder if it is any better in the Breeding Grounds. Hell...the person who tried to kill me was Silk...a straight man from the Breeding grounds.

I was beginning to feel like I wasn't safe anywhere...except with Marcel really. So I stay in his part of the train. We speed past through the floating city past holograms and hovercrafts.

I spend the morning with Latosha and Natasha. We are in our quarters. Marcel and Cid are no where to be seen.

“You ok?” Natasha asks me.

We have been sitting in the room for hours.

“I did just get shot you know?” I tell her.

“I'm not talking about that,” she replies, “You're glowing. Usually your skin is dull or what not. New moisturizer? Maybe some sort of hospital therapy? Saline maybe? You wouldn't be hiding your secret from us now would you?”

Natasha is usually the one that starts the silly crap but I can tell Latosha is never too far behind. Latosha is squinting at my face now studying it.

“Right. Saline. Try getting shot...especially by someone who you thought was a friend. It'll do wonders for your face regimen,” I roll my eyes sarcastically.

“It's not saline. I know that glow anywhere. That's good sex,” Latosha says.

I feel the blush all over my face immediately. Natasha puts on her glasses and glances at my face. She starts nodding in agreement.

“Definitely good sex! I noticed Marcel had it too earlier,” Natasha says.

The lesbians begin to laugh like schoolgirls at that moment. I am beyond embarrassed about it.

“Ok. Ok whatever.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of. That's what lovers do.”

“Do they also avoid each other the next day?” I ask.

“Avoid? He's avoiding you?”

“I said something...I shouldn't have...”

“Like what?”

I stop talking. I don't want to embarrass myself further. I told Marcel I loved him during sex. I used the L word. Who does that? Of course he would avoid me. We were barely dating. We had sex twice and once was by accident. Of course he would avoid me if I was using the Love word already. It was ridiculous that I would jump to that kind of extreme. I guess I was really falling for my own marriage sham.

“Nevermind.”

I let them continue to have small talk but don't say much of anything. It is almost two hours before Marcel and Cid finally show up. They look like they've been arguing about something.

Marcel doesn't look me in my eyes. I'm a little nervous when he does. He looks pissed off. Could it be because of the L word? I'm not sure. He struggles to avoid eye contact with me.

“How are you feeling?” Cid asks me.

“Good. Any news on Silk?”

Silence.

They look at one another. I'm confused on what's going on.

“Silk's dead,” Marcel tells me.

I don't know what comes over me. You would think I wouldn't care. This is someone who tried to kill me. I don't see any of that at that moment though. I see a friend. I see my old friend. And I am breaking down in tears. The tears are falling down the sides of my face. They don't stop. I can't help it. The lesbians are crying too. I'm sure they aren't crying because of Silk. I'm sure my emotion is contagious to them.

Cid and Marcel cross their arms. They shake their head. Marcel looks worried. Cid looks serious.

Marcel doesn't console me all the way but he crosses his arms and just drops his head, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry you have to find out this way...”

I know it's hard for him or the others to really feel bad for the fact that Silk is dead. They probably don't understand why I'm so upset. They don't know the history I had with Silk. After my father abandoned me he was the one who helped me through a lot of hard times. He helped me. None of this made sense and now that he was dead it was even worse.

“We don't even know what caused him to snap,” I say, “He just died with it.”

Cid pauses, “That's not entirely true either.”

I'm confused.

“What?”

Cid shakes his head, “My team found instructions on him. Written instructions. It seems that Silk was working for an organization. They are an homophobic organization from the Breeding Grounds. They call themselves, The Straight Agenda.”

“The what?”

I was in the Breeding Grounds for years and I had never heard of it.

“For some reason they wanted to hurt Marcel...by hurting you. They felt Marcel was a forerunner for the presidency.”

I was even more confused, “Marcel is dropping out.”

Marcel pauses, “Not after this I'm not. These people want to hurt you. They were so afraid of what I might become that they decided to try to take out my husband. Little do they know that's made me more mad then ever.”

The look in Marcel's eyes was reflective of what I saw in the hospital. He was angry. He was...he was different...

“Marcel calm down,” I tell him.

“It's too late for that,” he replies, “Straight people tried to take out my husband. So I'm back in this presidential race and I'm not playing nice guy no more. I'm going to win the election and I am going to wipe them all out.”

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