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No Matter How Hard You Try

By: eronlovesyaoi



"So- then he said I should check underneath!" Everyday her voice got a little more annoying.

Rex chose this moment to take a drink of his coffee. He tried to think of something to say- he really did. He checked his watch, not realizing that this was the seventh time he had done so, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Denise, but I have to go."

The pretty blonde across from him sighed in an exasperated sort of way; "What's your excuse this time, Rex?"

He looked at her, the woman he had been dating for the last month, and just could not find it in himself to keep up the charade. "I don't have one. I'm sure you'll find someone better suited to you."

A look of disbelief crossed her face but was quickly replaced by one of indignation. "You're dumping me?"

"Yes."

"God, you are such a bastard. "

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck you, Rex, just leave."

He did. He walked out on the latest of a string of unsatisfying relationships. Rex had dated a grand total of twelve women during his thirty years on Earth. A woman named 'Vanessa' had lasted the longest, nearly a year, and the shortest time went to 'Carla' who lasted a total of nine days.

He walked, in a very distracted manner, towards the subway to make his way back uptown to his office. He made the trip in silence and without making eye contact with anyone. His mind was working furiously dissecting his latest disaster of a relationship. If he had been less distracted he might have noticed the man following him.

On the train he held onto a pole and continued to think about all of his failed relationships. He was justifying every break up. It wasn't him it was them. He was trying desperately to keep himself convinced he was normal. He often spent his time like this- alone and in deep thought.

Rex was so spaced out, 'She was always nagging, and not on par with me intellectually, we just didn't mesh- damn it!', that at first he didn't feel the hand on his hip. When the warning bells finally started ringing he stood very still. Suddenly he was hyper aware of his own personal space and tried to convince himself that this invasion was accidental... but then why would the hand be under my trench-coat?

The fingers that weren't his own moved in a slow circle and all thoughts of accidental touches fled his mind. His breathing became shallow and he tried to see the stranger out of the corner of his eye. There were people close to him on all sides. It could be any of them... It was true, it could have been any of the people near him, but it wasn't. It was the man directly behind him. The same man who had followed him from the coffee shop and onto the train.

Rex felt a hardness against his backside and realized it had to be the person directly behind him. The person he couldn't see at all unless he turned completely around. He unconsciously pressed closer, telling himself later that he merely didn't want his whisper to carry, "What the fuck do you think you're playing at?"

"I know you. You're pathetic..." the stranger's answering whisper was low and smoky. His hand slid around to Rex's front and held him close as if the pair might start to slow dance in the grime of the underground.

"Who are you? Get your hands off me!" Rex noted with dismay that he was getting hard. He placed his free hand over the stranger's to keep it from sliding down to his crotch. He was desperately trying to keep his composure.

"You aren't fighting very hard..." The man slowly rocked his hips against Rex's firm ass and was rewarded with a low moan.

"We're in public you fuck..." Even though his hand was still over the stranger's they seemed to be sliding steadily downward and Rex had the uncomfortable thought that he might be leading them there.

"Interesting that you should protest to the location- but not to the fact that a strange man is dry humping you..."

"You said... ah... that I knew.. you.." Rex could feel the flush in his face and wondered how in the hell all the people standing so close to him could not notice he was being raped right next to them.

"Wrong. I said that I knew you. I'm still a man, Rex..."

"Shut up..." The stranger's strong hand was stroking him through his slacks and Rex had never been so happy to be wearing a long coat in his life.

"You're so hard... you like this, don't you? You like feeling my hard dick up against you."

"St-stop... ah..." Rex's knuckles were white on the support pole and he knew he was very close to climax. He didn't want to cum on the subway surrounded by strangers, but he was going to, and it would be the best orgasm of his life. One might argue it was his first real one.

"I'm gonna follow you home, blind fold you, and then fuck you until you admit how much you love it."

"N-never..." but Rex's body betrayed him. The muscles in his legs spasmed, his breath caught in his throat, and hot cum soaked his boxers. The people around him were completely unaware. They had iPods clipped to their belts, papers held defensively over their faces, and their minds on their own business. They had programmed themselves not to notice the world around them.

The man stayed pressed against him. "It's my turn, Rex, but we can't do that here."

Rex was leaning against his molester and trying to catch his breath. "Fuck you. I'm gonna get off of this train and go to the police."

"And tell them what? That I gave you the most honest pleasure you've ever felt?" The train was trundling to a stop and Rex had no answer for the stranger. "I'm going to get off here- it's not our stop but I want you to think about who you really are."

"What do you mean?" Rex was afraid to turn around. He didn't want to see the stranger's face.

"You've been living a lie, Rex, and you're terrified to admit it. I know- I've been watching you since you transferred here. I work on your floor but I bet you've never even noticed me... when you're ready to open your eyes my name is Eric."

The doors made an odd hydraulic noise and the press of bodies against him shifted and changed. Rex didn't move. He didn't even turn his head. He wasn't ready to look at the person who had seen through everything. He couldn't believe his life and his lies had been shattered so easily.

He didn't go back to work that day, or the next, he simply stayed home. He stared out the window at what he now perceived to be a gray and uncaring city full of hidden land-mines. He cried. He had bouts of rage in which he broke a chair and two lamps- but what scared our hero the most, what he tried the hardest not to think about, was when he found his hand straying to his cock.

He'd crawl under his trench-coat and fantasize of a stranger's hands and hardness pressing against him. He climaxed very quickly- the name "Eric" dying on his lips. After the third time this happened Rex crawled into the bathtub with a bottle of gin. It was 11am on the second day. He drank half of the bottle straight.

It was 11:45am. Rex called the directory at his office and enquired after an "Eric" that worked in the offices on the 23rd floor. There was one. His name was Eric Brannan. The voice on the phone asked if he would like to be connected to Eric; "Yes, please."

"Hello, this is Eric."

"Do you know where I live?"

"..Rex?"

"Do you fucking know where I live or not?"

"Yes."

"Come over."

Eric took in a deep breath. It was obvious that Rex was drunk. "I'm not sure you're ready..."

The voice that answered was small, "please?"

Eric's voice softened in turn; "I'll be there as soon as I can." 

No Matter How Hard You Try Ch. 02



Eric stood in front of a white door. Gold numbers proclaimed, in their own quiet way, that this was the door to apartment 16B. He shuffled his feet and looked down the hallway, hoping for an excuse not to enter, when no distraction appeared- he knocked. There was only silence on the other side of the door. He knocked once more before deciding to try the handle. It was unlocked.

16B was a wreck. It was, in fact, the messiest apartment that Eric had ever seen. He took a tentative step forward and yelped when his step crunched loudly. The cause was the shattered remains of a lamp. "Rex?" A faint clunk was his only answer. Oh, this is so much worse than I thought... what did I do?

There was more furniture carnage on his way through the living room and his feelings of guilt deepened. There was another noise off to his right and he followed it to a door in the hallway. It was slightly ajar- it was unable to close all the way due to an act of architectural violence.

Eric pushed the door open slowly and immediately wanted to close it again. The room was, once anyway, a charming bathroom. Rex was in the tub. He was fully clothed... in the clothes from two days ago. His unshaven face contained blood-shot eyes and when they looked up at Eric he let out a harsh, barking, laugh. "So, here he is! The Great and Terrible Eric: Destroyer of Lives!"

"Oh, Rex... I'm so sorry. I just meant to kind of shock you into being yourself... I never meant-"

"Shut up, goddamn it! It doesn't matter. Will you help me to the toilet?"

Eric hesitated; "Are you going to be sick?"

"No. I have to piss. Will you give me a hand now?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." He helped Rex up out of the tub. It wasn't easy and involved excessive use of elbows by both parties. They then awkwardly shuffled over to the toilet. "So, umm.. I'll just go-"

"No, wait."

"Excuse me?"

"I need you to help me."

"Dear lord, Rex, how much did you drink? I mean, you smell like a distillery, but I was hoping that meant you spilled a lot."

"Nope! I drank that whole bottle!" Rex pointed rather proudly to an empty fifth of gin in the tub. "Now help me aim this thing."

Eric, who had all but raped Rex on the subway, found this situation acutely embarrassing. He looked down long enough only to help Rex get out his dick and then make sure his stream was hitting the toilet. Then, blushing, he looked aside. To his great frustration the feel of Rex in his hand was making him very aroused- this was not how he had envisioned a second encounter. He had actually thought of himself as some kind of white knight saving Rex from himself. This was obviously not the case and he was feeling more like a villain by the minute. The visions of sweeping Rex off of his feet were quickly changing into visions of sweeping him into a rehab.

The sound of Rex urinating stopped. "Hey, Eric, I'm done!"

"Okay. Then let's get you... um.. and then.." Eric was suddenly flummoxed as to what he should do. "Let's get you some coffee."

"Hey..." Rex's voice was soft.

"What, Rex?"

"You're still holding my pecker."

Eric came to two sudden realizations. One, that Rex was right and his hand was still full of dick, and two; Rex was starting to get very aroused. "Oh, um, sorry.." He let go and stood there, rather lamely, trying to pretend that Rex's half-stiff prick wasn't sticking out of his trousers.

"You lied to me, Eric."

"I'm.. I don't know what.. " Eric sighed loudly and made an exasperated gesture.

"You never fucked me."

There was several seconds of silence that seemed very long. "What?"

"You said you'd fuck me- you never came to fuck me..."

"Er..." Eric felt more lost than ever. "Do you want me to... now?"

"Oh, god..."

"Rex?"

Rex chose that moment to sink to his knees and be sick. He was sick very loudly. He vomited , or tried to in deafening heaves, for a full two minutes. When it was finally over the flush of the toilet seemed a quiet and pleasant sound. "I feel better."

"That was... awful."

"Eric... will you kiss me?"

"Oh good Christ! After that? Don't be ridiculous." Rex began to cry. "Oh, Rex... come on, let's get you to bed. You need to sleep some of this off."

The trip to the bedroom was just as awkward and ungainly as everything else. After a long struggle down the hallway, and then an uphill battle with Rex's clothes (that Eric just abandoned halfway through), Rex was finally in his bed. There he curled up, still half sobbing, and was asleep almost instantly.

"Jesus. Well, I guess I could try to clean some of this god-awful mess up..." Eric had no idea how much work was in store for him. Rex had torn every room in his apartment to shambles. It took him over five hours to get the place looking decent again. However, the time went by fairly fast and he felt immensely better when he was all done. He started to feel like maybe he wasn't the worst human being who had ever lived.

He checked on Rex, for the thousandth time that afternoon, and couldn't help but smile at him. He was sprawled out, his body making a big x, covering the entire bed. So much for curling up next to him I guess. He considered waking Rex up but thought better of it. Instead he made himself comfortable on the couch, which was relatively without damage, and spaced out in front of the T.V. for awhile.

He was on his third episode of SpongeBob when Rex spoke up from directly behind him; "I've seen this episode like a million times."

Eric let out a high-pitched scream and jumped off the couch like his ass was on fire; "Holy Hell, man! You scared the shit outta me!"

Rex spared him a baleful glance and trudged into his kitchen. "I need coffee. And toast. Many toast." Eric followed him to the kitchen but hovered near the door nervously. "So... what are you doing here?"

"Oh, God, this can't be happening." Eric massaged his temple with one hand, looking pointedly at the floor, and took a deep breath.

Rex chuckled; "I'm just joshin' ya. I remember." He put a mug into the microwave and bread in his toaster. "Want some coffee? It's instant."

"No, thank you..." Eric sighed and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. "Do you still want me here, Rex?"

"The coffee isn't that bad. I wasn't trying to scare you away."

"I'm being serious."

"Yes, I want you here. I called you, didn't I?"

"You called me while you were very drunk... I just thought now that you were sober..."

"Sober? Oh, no... I am about as close to sober as Michael Jackson is to normal."

"You seem to be feeling better about... things."

"Destroying half of your apartment is very cathartic. Plus, it's hard to put on false fronts when you're hung-over as shit." The microwave chose that moment to ding loudly and Rex turned to get his hot water. "I'm glad you're here, Eric."

Eric strode over, it only took him three steps, and hugged Rex from behind. "I'm glad I'm here, too."

Rex leaned into Eric's embrace and sighed deeply, contentedly, before speaking again. "It's weird, but I feel so safe in your arms... maybe I'm suffering from Stolkholm Syndrome."

"I never kid-napped you or held you hostage."

"You've kid-napped my heart."

"You smell like barf."

Rex laughed, good naturedly, and pulled away. "Let me get some food in me and then I'll go shower. I know, I must reek. Thankfully, I seem to be immune to my own stench."

The time passed easily between them with conversation and comfortable enough silences. When Rex went to shower Eric took up his place on the couch. He thought to himself that, all in all, he didn't regret his actions on the subway. It had been a stupid, thoughtless, act of desperation but it looked like things just might work out okay between them. It was with that, at least somewhat comforting thought, that he drifted off. He was awoken by soft kisses, first on his forehead, then on his lips.

"Eric... it's time to wake up.." Rex straddled Eric, sitting on his thighs, and slid a hand between his legs. "It's time to keep your promise."

Eric moaned, half from the sleep still in his eyes and half from his burgeoning erection, pulled Rex to him by his robe and kissed him deeply. His hand stole under Rex's robe and wrapped around his already leaking cock. The men spent several minutes simply exploring each other's bodies and kissing as much, and as deeply, as they possibly could.

Eric's shirt was pushed up to his arm-pits, his pants were open, and his cock was oozing pre-cum onto his belly hair. Rex was moving on top of him, rubbing their erections together with his head thrown back, and moaning like a bitch in heat. "Dear god, Eric, I've been waiting my whole life- fuck me..."

That was a request he simply couldn't refuse. Eric grabbed Rex's fuzzy, and oh so perfect, butt and guided him forward. He scooped some of the viscous liquid off of his belly and began to loosen Rex up. He worked in one finger (Rex squirmed impatiently). He worked in a second finger (Rex began to push back on his hand). He worked in a third finger (Rex gasped).

"I'm ready! Jesus!"

Eric chuckled darkly and pressed his cock up into his new lover. It was a moment he'd been fantasizing about for months and the look on Rex's face was every bit as good as he thought it was going to be. It didn't take any time at all for him to be in Rex to the hilt- Rex was an impatient and demanding bottom. "Alright, you want it Rex? Then move."

Rex slid up and down on Eric's cock slowly at first, unaccustomed to the discomfort, but after just a minute he was fucking himself as hard as he could manage. He braced himself by placing his hands on either side of Eric's head on the back of the couch. The fact that this made it very easy for him to lean in and kiss him wasn't lost on Rex. If he wasn't gasping and grunting his lips were locked with, as far as he was concerned, the hottest man alive.

"Rex, I'm gonna... cum inside you... ungh alright?" Eric grabbed Rex's manhood in his fist and started to stroke it roughly.

His only answer was vigorous head nod- Rex was biting his lip to keep from screaming. A few short moments after that it was all over. Eric's rough palm on his dick sent Rex soaring over the edge. He shot several sticky white ropes into Eric's chest hair. Eric had been close to began with and when Rex's body began to spasm around him he came with a deep groan.

They collapsed sideways onto the couch, not even bothering to disentangle themselves, and tried not to give into physical exhaustion. "My muscles are twitching..." Rex giggled.

"Your thighs aren't used to doing so much work." Eric kissed his lover's forehead.

"Neither's my ass."

Eric laughed and kissed Rex for real. "I was right, you know?"

Rex's answering smile was dark; "Yes, you were, but you also raped me and caused me to have a mental break down. I fucking own you now. You know that, right?"

Eric nodded, "I don't mind at all."