Prompt Post 2
Welcome to the second round of the_eagle_kink .
Please see the rules before posting.
Please check our delcious account before prompting.
Happy Kink, everyone.
~CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS~
Please see the rules before posting.
Please check our delcious account before prompting.
Happy Kink, everyone.
~CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS~
- MORE MOD NOTES: Alright guys I know this fandom is really into historical accuracy and all that jazz but here's the thing. This is a KINK MEME and therefore historical accuracy is not ( Read more... )
He woke up, squinting blearily at the bright television screen as he acclimated himself with the room doused in 2am darkness. Ajax had his warm, heavy head on his lap, and Marcus was tempted to simply shift across the length of the sofa and camp out there for the rest of the night.
Then a crunch of paper on his bare chest had him blinking awake in seconds. He fumbled for the note with fingers clumsy and slow. He didn’t have his reading glasses, so he had to hold the note nearly to his nose.
Scrawled messily was simply:
Hi. I think your dog likes me.
Marcus didn’t even have the energy to swear. What the hell was his life?
***
“But why me, do you think?” Marcus asked Lauren as they sat side by side at the computers. He hadn't been able to keep his secret for long.
Lauren typed something out, paused and said unhelpfully, “I don’t know, babe.”
“It’s like he’s taunting me.”
“Or stalking you. Still haven’t seen his face?”
“And I mean,” Marcus barrelled on, “Does this guy have a hard-on for Roman relics or what? I can’t be the only person in Oxford who collects that stuff.”
“Definitely stalking.”
“A stalking thief?”
“Sounds like the beginning of a beautiful friendship to me,” Lauren said. With that, she hunched over her keyboard and began tapping away, which was a sure sign for her to be left alone.
“You’re sick. What do they teach you in Scotland?”
“Maybe,” Esca said from the table behind them, causing Marcus to stiffen up with surprise, “He wants something important from you, and he’s just looking for it every time he comes over.”
Marcus didn’t bother to glance over his shoulder. “Well then he’s barking up the wrong tree. I don’t have anything. Not anything more valuable than what’s in this museum.”
“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”
“Did you make that up all on your own?”
“Did you buy that sweater all on your own or did your mum help you?”
Marcus peered over his shoulder with his eyebrows raised. “Did your mom help you with that come back?”
“Hmmm, I doubt that, considering she’s dead.” Esca’s chair scraped back with a loud squeal as he got up and strode out of the office.
“Uh oh,” Lauren murmured.
Marcus was already up and chasing after him. “Esca, wait.” He dashed out of the office and lunged across the hall, just in time to shove his hand in the closing elevator doors.
Esca stared at him blandly.
Marcus swallowed and stepped into the elevator with him. The doors closed.
“Look, I’m sorry. Again. But - but,” he held up a finger and met Esca’s eyes. “Rule number one of ‘your mom’ jokes is that a person who’s mother is deceased is not allowed to engage in said jokes if the other person of the joke exchange is not aware of afore-mentioned deceased...ness. It’s common courtesy.”
Marcus held Esca’s hard gaze and slipped his hands in his pockets for lack of anything better to do.
And just like that, Esca faintly laughed and rolled his eyes. He stared at the ceiling and said, “Even your jokes have rules. Do you ever do anything that doesn’t somehow fall under a regulation?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.”
Esca scrunched up his face in distaste, but his eyes glinted dark with humour when they glanced to the side. “You have the mysterious one-word answers down pat yet. You’re only supposed to use one, hence.”
“I couldn’t decide.”
Esca out-right laughed this time, and it sent an unexpected shiver of pleasure rolling through Marcus’ frame.
The elevator dinged.
They both stared at each other.
Marcus was the first to say, “Going back up?”
Esca shrugged, shifted and stabbed at the button panel. “Yeah.”
***
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“So, what is it exactly that this thief has stolen so far?” Esca asked from his corner of the room.
The museum had long closed, and they were both the last ones in. Normally, in cases like these, both Marcus and Esca would turn on their iPods and block the other out. Marcus had tried to make friendly conversation on more than one occasion in the past, but had always been promptly shut down.
Apparently Marcus being rude to Esca on several occasions had been exactly what the guy had wanted in their pseudo-relationship. Really weird. Marcus wasn’t sure he liked it at all.
Marcus looked up from the statue he was working on. “Just some ancient coins and an old map of Roman Britain.”
Esca propped an elbow on his work station and leaned his cheek on his palm. Mauve shadows pooled beneath his eyes. Apparently Marcus wasn’t the only one losing sleep these days.
“You don’t seem particularly broken up about it.”
“They're just things, y’know? At the end of the day, I mean.”
“And you’ve got all of those things just lying about your house?”
Marcus frowned and put down the file he’d been using on the broken edge of a statue. “Not really. It’s all in this study that I don’t really use as a study. It’s more of a storage space for all my stuff.”
Esca raised an eyebrow. “You have a study.”
Marcus rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, so?”
“How did you come into your precious Roman relics, Marcus?”
That was definitely the first time Esca had said Marcus’ name. The inflection was unexpectedly soft; the way it curled around Esca’s tongue and rolled off of his lips made Marcus’ name sound somehow special.
“Family heirlooms and personal collections,” Marcus said with a distant roaring in his ears. He ignored the way his fingertips went warm and tingly under that direct, curious stare. “My father’s side are of Roman Italian descent and my mom’s side is mainly English.”
“Explains your first and second name, then.”
Marcus tried to laugh, but it was more of an awkward cough. “Yeah. Anyway, I should get home. Ajax will be -“
“I’d fancy a look at your collection up close, sometime,” Esca said with a curl to his pale lips.
All Marcus could think beyond the hot leap in his stomach was that Esca looked tired, and that he needed some warm food and a bed.
“You’d want to come to my house?” Marcus said with a heavy tongue. God, he was an idiot.
Esca angled his chin down and stared pointedly at Marcus. “That’s what I just said. Unless you’re the type to horde your personal life away so that no one can discover your secrets.”
Marcus laughed in earnest and shook his head as he pushed off the countertop and stood. “I’m not really the secretive type. But yeah, sure. If you want to come around this weekend or whatever, I’ll be home.”
“You'll be home all weekend?” Esca asked with an incredulous look.
Marcus shut off the light at his workstation and smiled. “What can I say? I’m sure you were right. I’m just a boring guy with a cool collection.”
He lifted his jacket from the back of his chair and tucked it under his arm. As he turned away, he lifted up a hand in a slight wave and departed.
As Marcus was leaving, he could have sworn he heard Esca say, “Maybe. Maybe not.”
***
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I love your Esca and your Marcus so so much already!
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Esca stepped in with an easy laugh and a smile, his shoulder brushing Marcus’ chest just before he bent to greet the dog properly. Marcus only had a moment to register just how petite Esca’s frame was in comparison to his own.
Marcus groaned. “Don’t encourage him, please.”
“But he likes me.”
“He’s a pretty poor judge of character,” Marcus said as he crouched to grip Ajax’s collar.
Esca looked up and met Marcus’ eyes; like this, they were only a breath apart. Marcus could smell the fresh, clean soap that clung to Esca’s skin. It was distracting and also very very not right.
Even if Esca was interested - and his daily disdain of Marcus made it clear that Esca wasn’t - Marcus wouldn’t fraternise with a co-worker. That had disaster written all over it. And since Marcus was naturally prone to disasters, he’d prefer to stay away from the ones that could be avoided.
Esca huffed a soft laugh and didn’t move from his spot. “That’s not a very kind thing to say about your guest.”
Marcus’ cheeks heated as he ignored Ajax happily nuzzling at his neck. “Sorry.”
Esca waved him off and got to his feet. “You apologise too much.”
Marcus scooped Ajax into his arms and offered a slight smile. “Yeah, well I’ve found that I have a habit of forgetting my tongue when I’m around you.”
“That’s one way of putting it,” Esca said as he stared at the puppy squirming in Marcus’ hold.
Marcus’ heart thumped against his ribcage. “What would be another way of putting it?” he asked as he dodged Ajax’s wayward tongue.
Esca fixed him with a look that lasted longer than it should have.
“Kitchen’s this way?” he said, jerking his thumb in the correct direction. Before Marcus could reply, Esca was toeing off his grey chucks and heading in the proper direction.
Marcus could only follow. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“Tea will do.”
“Super milky, right?” Marcus asked as he opened the back door and shooed Ajax into the garden. He turned to find Esca looking at him with a peculiar expression.
“Grown men really shouldn’t use the word ‘super’ in conversation as often as you.”
“Grown men shouldn’t buy jeans from the women’s section.”
“Says the man who owns the largest collection of polo shirts I’ve ever seen. Anyway,” Esca said before Marcus could retort, “I bought these at Topman, and they look amazing on me.”
Marcus wasn’t about to argue. He also wasn’t about to affirm anything. The safest bet would be to make some tea. If his mother had taught him anything, it was that.
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“I don’t,” Marcus said as he leaned against the edge of the counter opposite Esca. “I inherited it from my uncle when I decided to move to England. He wasn’t living in it anyway.”
“Ah, to come from old money.”
“Wow,” Marcus said with a narrow look. “Could you have said that with any more misplaced disdain?”
The kettle bubbled up with a pop, and Marcus was relieved for the excuse to turn away and grab two mugs from the cupboard. The house may have been expensive, but Marcus’ belongings inside were still his things from days past.
Which was why Esca got a chipped DePaul University mug and Marcus used his favourite one with Toucan Sam on it that he once got free from sending in the proof of purchase labels from twenty boxes of Fruit Loops.
“Sorry,” Esca quietly said from behind him as Marcus set the tea bags to steep.
“It’s no big deal,” Marcus said. He turned and silently considered Esca for a moment. “If you don’t mind my asking, why do you want to see my collection in the first place? I thought you were really only interested in paitings.”
Esca breathed a soft laugh and picked a dog hair off of his knee. “Do I come off that one-dimensional?”
“I’d never think that,” Marcus said immediately; soberly. “Not of you or anybody.”
Esca’s smile was thin and faded fast. “Then in that way you’re a better man than I.”
Marcus’ face burned as he brushed off the comment and headed towards the fridge for milk. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sorry I asked.”
“Always apologising.”
“My mother is English, after all,” Marcus said as he shot a smile over his shoulder. He put on his best, eloquent reproduction of his mother’s accent. “And I must admit, quite posh.” He shut the fridge door with his foot and wandered towards the tea.
Esca sounded amused behind him. “Incredibly. For a moment there you had a touch of class.”
“I wouldn’t want to get your hopes up. I’m just a Chicago boy, I swear.”
“I’m beginning to gather the impression that you underestimate yourself, Marcus.”
Marcus stilled in the middle of stirring his tea. He stared into the mugs; watched pale milk curl and swirl into a cloudy caramel colour. He took a deep breath, gripped Esca’s mug, and turned with a curved lips.
“Nah. I’m just me. I don’t really have a bursting need for self-exploration, y’know?”
Esca arched an eyebrow and took the mug from Marcus. Their hands brushed, and Esca’s fingertips were surprisingly calloused.
“Not really,” Esca said.
“Agree to disagree,” Marcus said as he brought his own cup to his mouth. Their eyes met and held over the rim, and Marcus was pleased he didn’t drop tea and ceramic all over the floor.
He really needed to get a grip.
***
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“Yeah, well I have an extra room downstairs, but it’s filled with old furniture that my uncle left. Are you in need of an ottoman that looks like it’s been upholstered with ugly floral curtains?”
“Perhaps I am,” Esca said with levity in his voice. He paused at the open door to Marcus’ bedroom and peered. His eyebrows rocketed towards his hairline. “My.”
Marcus looked in and felt his skin flush from head to toe. His king-sized, four poster bed was carved of dark cherry wood, the rumpled sheets a simple cream and rich coffee brown.
“Um.” Marcus shut the door and marched down the hall. “I’m tall.”
“I had noticed.”
“I need a lot of room.”
“I’ll bet.”
“And I have nightmares a lot. I flail.”
“Really. You don’t seem like the haunted type.”
Marcus halted at the proper door and smiled wanly at Esca. Without a word, he opened it and motioned for Esca to enter first.
Esca’s eyes went wide for the brief moment before his usual mask of cool slid in place. “So this is where you keep your real treasures.”
“I guess so.” Marcus shoved his hands in his pockets and watched as Esca made a beeline for the floor to ceiling bookshelves. His fingers hovered over the old, cracked spines. Marcus softly said, “You can touch. Anything environment-sensitive is tucked away in some glass-cased drawers over there.”
His uncle had taken good care of these relics. Gold, bronze, and silver pieces laid on display in their respective cases. Everything had been diligently catalogued and recorded in a thick ledger that Marcus really meant to transfer to a computer sometime.
A few pieces of art lined the walls, but it was the tests to which Esca seemed drawn. He pulled out a book at random, with his face more relaxed with wonder than Marcus had ever seen it.
In that moment, Esca looked almost painfully young.
“You like it?” Marcus asked, even though he wasn’t sure why he sought Esca’s approval in the first place.
Esca looked up then, a foreign expression - shyness? - colouring his features. “It’s like you have your own museum right here.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” Marcus said with a smile. “Uh.” He rocked back on his heels. “You can hang out here as long as you like, okay? I’m gonna head downstairs and check on Ajax. I think it might rain and I really don’t want wet dog running around the house.”
Esca went pale and still. “You’d trust me alone with your things?”
Marcus stared at him and laughed abruptly; a deep rumble that filled up some of the empty spaces he’d forgotten about.
“Are you crazy? Of course I trust you.” Marcus was already backing out of the room. “Just enjoy yourself, man.”
He dashed downstairs before Esca could call him back.
In the kitchen, Marcus splayed his palms on the countertop and stared intently at the black marble grain. Christ, he couldn’t look at Esca’s face like that for any length of time. It made him forget that he didn’t really like Esca, and that Esca especially didn’t like him.
Marcus could literally feel his brain cells fizzling away the longer he remained in Esca’s presence. It was... inconvenient.
And by inconvenient, Marcus meant totally and utterly fucked.
***
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-OP
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You're horribly spoiling me, I'm gonna spend hours just sitting here hitting refresh.
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Ajax, Esca the thief, Esca the sassy artist, Marcus the hopeless but adorable ... Marcus.
Guhhhh, I await more eagerly, nonnie <3
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