Take It Off
Marcus wakes up first. It's early. Esca's still got his face buried in his pillow. Marcus gets out of bed quietly and finds his clothes. He gets dressed and hesitates before leaving a note. See you later - M.
He walks until he finds a bus stop and goes back to his apartment shower and change. He still can't believe his uncle showed up at the club. How long will it be before his mother calls? Or will his uncle merely hold it over his head and try to blackmail Marcus into working for him once again? Marcus has to conclude that probably wouldn't happen since his uncle found out he'd been stripping. Nobody in his uncle's circles would want to hire him with that potential scandal hanging over his head.
So all he has to focus on now is what to do next.
Marcus leans against the shower wall. If only he knew what that was. What the hell is he supposed to do now?
Marcus is busy dancing when they walk in. It's a bunch of men he's never seen before in nice suits. The leader is a tall man with dark hair and a regal sort of presence. The hair on the back of Marcus's neck prickles as the man glances up at the stage, looking straight at him before following the group on to their table. The song ends and Marcus goes off stage.
“Do you know those guys?” He asks Cottia, eying the group from backstage.
“Never seen them before. Why?”
“No reason.” Marcus knows something is up. He just doesn't know what.
They do their last routine of the night, and that should be it. Instead Esca descends from his office and joins the group at the corner table. JoJo comes backstage and tells Cottia, Marcus, and three other dancers to wait. The club closes and the customers leave, all except the group in the corner.
“All right,” JoJo nods at them. The dancers go out. Esca's leaning against the wall, talking to the dark haired man, while the rest of the group drinks. He's smoking, cigarette held lightly between his fingers. Marcus wonders what it would be like to kiss him then, letting the smoke curl around their tongues.
“Do you know what's going on?” He asks Cottia in an undertone.
“VIP guests.” She whispers back. “Esca has them every once in a while. They usually want a private dance or two.”
The dancers line up in front of the table, waiting. Esca glances at Marcus then away.
The tall dark man walks over to examine them. “I said I wanted the best.”
“And I thought you wanted to discuss business, Lithian.” Esca takes a drag on his cigarette.
“I don't understand why we can't discuss business and be entertained at the same time.” Lithian stops in front of Marcus. “What the fuck happened to this one?” He cups Marcus's jaw, studying the bruise on his cheek.
“He got into a fight.” Esca says shortly.
“And you put up with that shit?” Lithian sounds surprised. He releases Marcus and turns to the others. “You four, please, entertain my colleagues.” Then he looks back at Marcus. “You, come with us.”
Marcus follows Esca and him down the hall to the largest VIP room. Esca closes the door behind them. Lithian stretches out on the couch comfortably. “Take your clothes off.”
Marcus glances at Esca before pulling his t-shirt over his head and slipping out of his jeans.
One of the waiters brings them drinks and Marcus waits uncomfortably. He's not sure what he's supposing to be doing. Esca's not saying anything at all.
Lithian looks at him. “I brought you here to dance, so get the fuck on with it.” He turns his attention back to Esca.
Marcus starts moving, but slowly. He doesn't know why he's here, and he senses that Esca's not pleased about it, and he can barely hear the music, but he takes a deep breath and lets that fall away. He moves closer to Lithian when the man beckons him over and slides onto his lap, grinding against him. Esca drinks his whiskey and watches, his eyes dark and unreadable.
“You should come back to London, man.” Lithian tells Esca without looking away from Marcus's crotch as it moves against him. “This town, this club, it’s nothing for you.”
“You seem to be enjoying it well enough.” Esca points out, his eyes also on Marcus.
“True.” Lithian rubs his thumb over the bulge of Marcus’s crotch. “Damn, he’s got a mouthful on him.” He gives a gentle squeeze and Marcus arches up against him automatically. “Seriously though. When are you going to just suck it up and come back?”
“Is that what they sent you to find out?” Esca leans back in his chair, fingers clenched around his glass.
“Essentially.” Lithian grins. One of his hands is on Marcus's ass. “Turn around.”
This last part is directed at Marcus who obliges and starts grinding his ass against Lithian's crotch. He can see Esca's eyes in the mirror, and he starts moving slower, taking his time. Lithian's hand slides over his thigh.
“Come on, Esca. It's been four years.”
“Don't you think that speaks for itself?”
“This is your last chance.” Lithian's tightens on Marcus, and then he pushes him off. “Not bad.” Marcus stands to one side as he gets to his feet. “I'd like to see him again tomorrow night.”
“Oh, you're coming back then?” Esca raises an eyebrow.
“Of course.” Lithian grins. “For your answer.” He nods at Esca and walks out.
Esca takes a deep breath, before exhaling sharply. “Get your clothes on.” He stalks out.
Marcus gets dressed hurriedly before following. The other dancers are already backstage, getting ready to leave. Marcus hesitates, not sure whether he's supposed to go with them, or wait for Esca or what.
“Mr. Cunoval said you were to go on home.” JoJo leans over the bar.
“Great. Thanks.” Marcus goes backstage for his stuff.
He's missed the bus, so he walks, scuffing his shoes along the sidewalk. He can't help it, he's curious to know about Esca's past. It's occurred to Marcus, obviously, that Esca could afford to fly back to England just like that. There's nothing stopping him from getting there, except whatever it is that he wouldn't tell Marcus.
Paulo's out, fortunately. Marcus examines his face in the mirror. The bruising's gone down a little bit, but he still looks rough. No wonder Lithian was surprised.
He's too tired to shower so he strips naked before crawling on top of his mattress. The guy acted like he had known Esca for years. Marcus lies there, wondering what Esca was like when he was younger. He can half picture it, a gawky, oddly-graceful kid, with ears that stuck out a little bit, and freckles...
* * *
It takes Marcus a little bit to realize the knocking at the door is real and not something from the neighbor's television. He drags himself upright, pulls on his discarded boxers and goes to answer the door.
“You took your time.” Esca squints up at him.
“What're you doing here?” Marcus gapes at him.
“Are you going to let me in or what?”
“Sorry.” Marcus holds the door open wider and Esca brushes past him. It's surreal to see him standing there in his apartment.
Esca looks around. “You live in a shithole.” He comments.
“Tell me something I don't know.” Marcus opens the fridge to get them each a beer.
“I wanted to fuck you right in front of him.” Esca says clearly.
Marcus jerks his head up to look at him. “What?”
“I wanted to fuck you.” Esca enunciates each word slowly and carefully. “Right there. In front of him.” His breath is a little short, like he's forcing the words out past the tight barrier he's always kept up.
“Why didn't you?” Marcus asks.
At that, Esca sighs and rubs at his eyes. He leans on the counter, back against his elbows. “Because I have to do business with him, and I don't need him interfering with my personal life.”
“Am I part of your business, or your personal life?” Marcus hands a beer to Esca.
“Frustratingly, you seem be both.” Esca takes a sip.
Marcus considers that while he drinks his beer. Esca looks around before going into the bedroom. Marcus follows.
Esca takes it in before glancing at Marcus. He goes over to the dresser where there's one picture of Marcus and his father stuck to the mirror. Marcus takes a long drink of beer as Esca leans in to look at it.
“Would you believe me,” Esca asks softly, spinning to face Marcus. “If I told you I was the sole legitimate member of my family?”
“What?” Marcus doesn't know what to make of this.
“It's true.” Esca nods to himself, long and slow, and it occurs to Marcus that he's had a few drinks before he came over. He's just drunk enough to slightly loosen up. “My father was...not someone you'd ever hear of. Unless you're involved in the criminal underworld of London.” He eyes Marcus warily, waiting to see what he'll make of this.
“So...he's in the mafia?”
Esca chokes with laughter. “Yeah. Sure. Something like that.” He shakes his head. “Let's just say, none of it's legal.”
“Is that why you left?” Marcus asks cautiously.
Esca waves his hand casually. “I have brothers. They can deal with it. I just wanted to do something else.”
“And a strip-club is what you came up with?”
Esca shrugs. “I like to watch people dance. It's profitable and it allows me enough time to pursue other...pursuits.” He comes over to Marcus, stepping into his space.
Marcus wants to ask what those other pursuits are, but Esca pushes him back against the wall for a kiss. “Come on.” Esca's hand is warm on his hip, tugging at his shorts. Marcus lets him, kicking them off.
Esca kisses his way down Marcus's chest, his lips warm and possessive. He sinks to his knees and continues, kissing along the curve of Marcus's hip and down his thigh. Then, abruptly, he stops, and looks up at Marcus, his eyes filled with quiet, unbearable anger.
“He's dead. My father, and my mother. They were shot by one of his rivals.”
“I'm sorry.” Marcus kneels beside him. “Esca, I'm so sorry.”
“My brothers want to carry on with their war, but what's the point?” Esca shakes his head. He leans in, leaning his forehead against Marcus's chest. “What's the fucking point?”
“There doesn't have to be one.” Marcus lets Esca rest against him, as he awkwardly strokes his back. “It's a terrible thing, and it happened. You have every right to be angry.”
Esca looks up at him, as though he's not quite seeing him. “You...you just,” He shakes his head, and then he reaches up and kisses Marcus's mouth, “Come to bed.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Now.” Esca pulls at his collar.