Fic: absence to another (Brotherhood II, Harlan/Marcus, PG)
Hurricane update: Am fine. We lost power for a large portion of the day, and there were a few branches down, but that's pretty much it. We were out of the direct path of the hurricane so it was much, much worse down south. The biggest issues up here were the tornadoes. Two touched down in the town where I live, both a few miles south of me. Thankfully they did not kill anyone, although I feel very sorry for the lady who lost the top floor of her house, because I know how long it takes to get a contractor around here to fit you into their already hugely busy schedules.
ETA: Apparently there was a lot of flooding on the coastal parts of my county. I am now even more happy that my parents were smart enough to buy inland. That and the fact that there are far less rednecks in this part of the county than in the rest of it (which, as zoemargaret can attest, is a really scary thought). Also, there are people stuck on their boats out on the river. Because people are morons who get on their boats to ride out the hurricane.
I'd love to say I spent the hurricane writing, but I mostly slept and reread Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. But I did write something eventually, so the day wasn't completely wasted.
Title: absence to another
Fandom: Brotherhood II
Pairing: Harlan/Marcus
Rating: PG
Summary: All good things must come to an end.
Author's note: Part 32 of the Aftermath Series. The first 26 parts can be found here. Part 27 is here, part 28 is here, part 29 is here, part 30 is here, and part 31 is here. I am not allowed to write any more of this series until I update my web site. I mean it. On the bright side, only two parts left. Which is good mainly because I am tired of coming up with titles, as you can tell by their increasing ridiculousness.
Marcus doesn't run out on Harlan while he's sleeping. He doesn't even consider it, although he can tell there's a part of Harlan that sort of expected him to. He can see it in the way Harlan looks at him sometimes, when he thinks Marcus isn't paying attention.
They don't talk about it. They talk about everything else - Marcus' game, Harlan's job, the reasons it took Marcus so long to get his G.E.D. - but they don't talk about what they're doing now. He knows they should, knows they should lay down rules or guidelines or whatever so they don't go around in circles like they did in high school. But every time he thinks about bringing it up there's something to distract him, and somehow two days pass without either of them asking the question.
Two days, and he keeps expecting to wake up and find out this was all a dream. He's had this dream more times than he can count, after all, and it's hard to believe Harlan really did walk back into his life the way Marcus always hoped he would. Out of nowhere, like this was all part of some weird cosmic plan. So he wouldn't be surprised to wake up and find he'd dreamed the last two days, but the more time they spend together the easier it is to believe that it's really happening.
That doesn't stop his heart from skipping a beat when he steps out of the shower to find Harlan standing at the sink, a towel draped low around his waist and a spot of forgotten shaving cream just under his left ear. He looks over when Marcus climbs out of the shower, smiling that smile of his and Marcus feels the blush start at his hairline and move all the way to his toes. And it's amazing that after all this time Harlan can still make him blush just by looking at him, because Marcus thought he'd gotten over that a long time ago.
Harlan does a lot of things to him that nobody else can, though, and Marcus blushes even harder at the thought as he wraps a towel around his own waist. "You missed a spot," he says, deflecting Harlan's steady gaze long enough to remember how to breathe. "Here."
Marcus reaches up and runs his thumb across the spot of shaving cream on Harlan's face, and when an arm slides around his waist he lets Harlan pull him in for a kiss. When Harlan lets him up for air his back's against the counter, marble cold against his skin but he doesn't even notice. Not when Harlan's still looking at him like Marcus is the most interesting thing he's ever seen. Like he's not planning to let Marcus out of his sight ever again, and right now that sounds pretty good.
He hates himself a little for thinking that, because he knows it's his fault Harlan doesn't trust him. Only it's not his fault, not really; it's Luc's fault, but Harlan doesn't understand that and Marcus can't really expect him to. Can't make him understand without telling him the whole story, and that's not going to happen. Maybe if it had been the only way to get Harlan back…but he's got Harlan back already, and anyway he's pretty sure Harlan wouldn't have believed him if Marcus had tried to tell him Luc was a demon.
That's what he's been telling himself since Harlan walked back into his life, anyway, and if it's a lie…well, he's used to living with lies by now.
"So you thought any more about what I said?"
Marcus is so lost in his own thoughts that it takes him a few seconds to remember what Harlan's talking about, but when he does he shakes his head and pulls Harlan a little closer. "I've been kind of distracted."
"I'm serious, Marcus. It makes sense," he says, but he's grinning like he kind of likes the idea of distracting Marcus to the point where he can't think about anything but Harlan. It's not exactly true, but Marcus doesn't bother to tell him that. Because he's mostly been thinking about Harlan, about the way he walked back into Marcus' life and whether or not he's planning on staying now that he's here. And granted, the fact that Harlan keeps offering to take over the business end of Marcus' company for him means he wants Marcus around, but Marcus isn't sure if that means Harlan wants him or if he's just interested in the distribution rights to Marcus' next game.
The thought leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, which is the whole reason Marcus has been trying not to think about it. Because he's pretty sure Harlan's still in love with him, but if this is just Harlan doing anything to land a client…
Only it can't be, because if it was Harlan wouldn't have cared what he was doing in Chicago all that time. He wouldn't have cared why Marcus left or what he was doing back in California, and he wouldn't have spent so much time pretending not to care about the guys Marcus was with while they were apart. He wouldn't be mouthing his way down Marcus' neck right now, distracting Marcus from the conversation before he gets a real answer to his question. If all he's interested in is Marcus' videogame he wouldn't do any of those things; at least Marcus is pretty sure he wouldn't.
"Do you use this sales pitch with all your clients?" Marcus asks, breathing the words against Harlan's ear and the low, rich laugh it gets him sends a shiver down his spine. Before Harlan can answer a shrill ring sounds somewhere in the bedroom, and Harlan presses one last kiss to the side of his neck before he lets Marcus go.
"Hold that thought."
A few seconds later Harlan's flipping open a cell phone and sitting down on the edge of the bed, leaving Marcus to stare after him and wonder how he can switch from memorizing Marcus' neck with his tongue to all business in less than a minute. Either he's really good at compartmentalizing or he's a great actor, and Marcus' stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought. He doesn't want all this to be an act, but it's easier to believe that than to believe they can just pick up where they left off six years ago.
"No, I'm working on a new client," Harlan says, glancing over his shoulder to grin at Marcus. He's standing in the door to the bathroom now, arms crossed over his chest as he listens to Harlan's conversation. "Are you kidding? He's eating out of my hand."
Marcus blushes at the words accompanied by Harlan's signature grin, the one that makes Marcus feel naked even when he's not. Except right now he is - almost, anyway - and he feels a lot more exposed than usual.
"Can't somebody else handle it?" Harlan says, and his smile fades as he turns away from Marcus again. "Look, Dad…no, I get it. Okay, okay. I'm on my way."
Harlan flips the phone closed and drops it on the bed next to his bag. He digs out clean socks and underwear before he looks up at Marcus again, expression serious all of a sudden and Marcus' stomach does another 180.
"That was my old man. I have to get back."
And Marcus knew they'd have to go back to their lives sometime, but he didn't expect it to be so sudden. Not that he'd spent a lot of time thinking about it, but if he had he would have pictured something a little more romantic. Something involving long, slow kisses and murmured promises about making this thing work somehow, maybe. He hadn't expected Harlan to propose or anything, but he hadn't expected him to be so matter-of-fact about leaving out of the blue.
"Just like that?"
"Yeah." Harlan drops his towel on the floor and starts to get dressed, and Marcus hates himself a little for enjoying the show even while Harlan's about to run out on him. "Look, I've just got to put out a couple fires with a client, no big deal. It'll only take a couple days."
Marcus wants to ask what happens after that. He wants to ask if he's just supposed to hang around and wait by the phone, if Harlan's going to call and let him know the next time Marcus will fit into his schedule. He wants to know if this is the start of something or if it was an ending, if Harlan came here looking for him or if he just wanted closure. Instead he just scans the hotel room for the clothes he hasn't put on in almost forty-eight hours; forty-eight hours of room service and mind-blowing sex and wanting to pinch himself every time he woke up to find Harlan still there.
He's looking for his t-shirt when he realizes Harlan's watching him, freezing and straightening up to find Harlan standing at the end of the bed, hotter than ever in a suit and tie and holding Marcus' shirt in one hand. Marcus swallows a sigh and reaches for it, but instead of letting go Harlan uses the shirt to pull him closer. "What?"
"Nothing," Marcus says, but he doesn't quite meet Harlan's gaze. "I'm just trying to get out of your way."
"Out of my…Jesus Christ, Marcus. You haven't changed at all."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
Harlan grins and lets go of Marcus' shirt, waiting until he pulls it over his head to answer. "You always acted like an asshole whenever you didn't get your way."
And that's not fair, because the way Marcus remembers it, Harlan was the asshole. He's the one who used to torture Marcus for fun instead of just coming out and telling Marcus he wanted him. He was the one who showed off for his lame friends all the time, and as far as Marcus can tell he's still showing off.
"Funny, I always thought that was your department."
He's not expecting Harlan to laugh, but when he does some of the anger ebbs out of Marcus. Then a hand closes around the front of his shirt to drag him forward again, and Harlan plants a hard kiss on his mouth. "Okay, so I was kind of an asshole too."
"Kind of?" Marcus says, raising one eyebrow but the effect is ruined by his smile. He doesn't care, though, because Harlan's still holding onto him, and maybe that means he's not just going to walk out of the hotel and forget about all this.
"Don't push your luck, Ratner." Harlan kisses him again, slow this time, hand leaving the front of Marcus' shirt to slide around the back of his neck. Marcus' own hands find their way under Harlan's jacket, around his back to hold him tight and he wishes he didn't have to let go.
"You need a lift?" Harlan asks, murmuring the words against Marcus' cheek and his heart falls a little when he remembers that Harlan really is leaving.
"No, I…I have my car."
"Good. You can walk me down to the parking garage, then." Harlan grins and grabs his bag off the bed, tucks his cell phone into his pocket and leads Marcus out of the room. The elevator ride doesn't consist of long, slow kisses, but Harlan stares at him behind the backs of the elderly couple who were already on the elevator when it stopped on their floor, and by the time they get to the lobby Marcus is blushing again. He waits while Harlan checks out, then follows him to the parking garage, searching his memory in vain for any clue to where he left his car.
"I'm over here," Harlan says, gesturing toward a row of cars in front of them and Marcus is glad Harlan doesn't insist on seeing him to his own car. He doesn't want to admit he was so nervous when he showed up for dinner that he doesn't remember where he parked, so instead of gesturing vaguely in the direction his car may or may not be, he nods and follows Harlan.
He's still driving a Porsche, but this one's silver and Marcus spares a regret for the cherry red convertible he spent so much time in those last few months of senior year. And it bugs him a little that he's never ridden in this one, but he shakes his head when Harlan offers to give him a lift to his own car.
"Thanks, I think I can make it on my own," he says, although he has a feeling he's going to be wandering aimlessly around the garage for awhile.
"You sure?" Harlan asks, and just for a second he looks kind of disappointed, like maybe he doesn't want to leave any more than Marcus wants him to go.
"Yeah," Marcus answers, running a hand along silver paint. "Maybe next time."
"Right," Harlan says, then he's moving forward to press Marcus up against the side of the car, kissing him hard and by the time he lets Marcus go they're both panting. "I'll call you."
Marcus nods dumbly, moving aside to let Harlan slide into the driver's seat and start the engine. And he knows he probably looks like an idiot, standing there watching Harlan pull away, but a few seconds later Harlan's gone and it doesn't matter. It takes Marcus a few seconds to realize he's got his fingers pressed to his mouth, but this time there's no one around to see him blush. He forces his hand away from his lips anyway, swallowing a sigh as he heads off in search of his car.
And he knows he doesn't really have the right to expect it, but there's a part of him that hopes there's a message on his machine when he gets home.
ETA: Apparently there was a lot of flooding on the coastal parts of my county. I am now even more happy that my parents were smart enough to buy inland. That and the fact that there are far less rednecks in this part of the county than in the rest of it (which, as zoemargaret can attest, is a really scary thought). Also, there are people stuck on their boats out on the river. Because people are morons who get on their boats to ride out the hurricane.
I'd love to say I spent the hurricane writing, but I mostly slept and reread Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. But I did write something eventually, so the day wasn't completely wasted.
Title: absence to another
Fandom: Brotherhood II
Pairing: Harlan/Marcus
Rating: PG
Summary: All good things must come to an end.
Author's note: Part 32 of the Aftermath Series. The first 26 parts can be found here. Part 27 is here, part 28 is here, part 29 is here, part 30 is here, and part 31 is here. I am not allowed to write any more of this series until I update my web site. I mean it. On the bright side, only two parts left. Which is good mainly because I am tired of coming up with titles, as you can tell by their increasing ridiculousness.
Marcus doesn't run out on Harlan while he's sleeping. He doesn't even consider it, although he can tell there's a part of Harlan that sort of expected him to. He can see it in the way Harlan looks at him sometimes, when he thinks Marcus isn't paying attention.
They don't talk about it. They talk about everything else - Marcus' game, Harlan's job, the reasons it took Marcus so long to get his G.E.D. - but they don't talk about what they're doing now. He knows they should, knows they should lay down rules or guidelines or whatever so they don't go around in circles like they did in high school. But every time he thinks about bringing it up there's something to distract him, and somehow two days pass without either of them asking the question.
Two days, and he keeps expecting to wake up and find out this was all a dream. He's had this dream more times than he can count, after all, and it's hard to believe Harlan really did walk back into his life the way Marcus always hoped he would. Out of nowhere, like this was all part of some weird cosmic plan. So he wouldn't be surprised to wake up and find he'd dreamed the last two days, but the more time they spend together the easier it is to believe that it's really happening.
That doesn't stop his heart from skipping a beat when he steps out of the shower to find Harlan standing at the sink, a towel draped low around his waist and a spot of forgotten shaving cream just under his left ear. He looks over when Marcus climbs out of the shower, smiling that smile of his and Marcus feels the blush start at his hairline and move all the way to his toes. And it's amazing that after all this time Harlan can still make him blush just by looking at him, because Marcus thought he'd gotten over that a long time ago.
Harlan does a lot of things to him that nobody else can, though, and Marcus blushes even harder at the thought as he wraps a towel around his own waist. "You missed a spot," he says, deflecting Harlan's steady gaze long enough to remember how to breathe. "Here."
Marcus reaches up and runs his thumb across the spot of shaving cream on Harlan's face, and when an arm slides around his waist he lets Harlan pull him in for a kiss. When Harlan lets him up for air his back's against the counter, marble cold against his skin but he doesn't even notice. Not when Harlan's still looking at him like Marcus is the most interesting thing he's ever seen. Like he's not planning to let Marcus out of his sight ever again, and right now that sounds pretty good.
He hates himself a little for thinking that, because he knows it's his fault Harlan doesn't trust him. Only it's not his fault, not really; it's Luc's fault, but Harlan doesn't understand that and Marcus can't really expect him to. Can't make him understand without telling him the whole story, and that's not going to happen. Maybe if it had been the only way to get Harlan back…but he's got Harlan back already, and anyway he's pretty sure Harlan wouldn't have believed him if Marcus had tried to tell him Luc was a demon.
That's what he's been telling himself since Harlan walked back into his life, anyway, and if it's a lie…well, he's used to living with lies by now.
"So you thought any more about what I said?"
Marcus is so lost in his own thoughts that it takes him a few seconds to remember what Harlan's talking about, but when he does he shakes his head and pulls Harlan a little closer. "I've been kind of distracted."
"I'm serious, Marcus. It makes sense," he says, but he's grinning like he kind of likes the idea of distracting Marcus to the point where he can't think about anything but Harlan. It's not exactly true, but Marcus doesn't bother to tell him that. Because he's mostly been thinking about Harlan, about the way he walked back into Marcus' life and whether or not he's planning on staying now that he's here. And granted, the fact that Harlan keeps offering to take over the business end of Marcus' company for him means he wants Marcus around, but Marcus isn't sure if that means Harlan wants him or if he's just interested in the distribution rights to Marcus' next game.
The thought leaves a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, which is the whole reason Marcus has been trying not to think about it. Because he's pretty sure Harlan's still in love with him, but if this is just Harlan doing anything to land a client…
Only it can't be, because if it was Harlan wouldn't have cared what he was doing in Chicago all that time. He wouldn't have cared why Marcus left or what he was doing back in California, and he wouldn't have spent so much time pretending not to care about the guys Marcus was with while they were apart. He wouldn't be mouthing his way down Marcus' neck right now, distracting Marcus from the conversation before he gets a real answer to his question. If all he's interested in is Marcus' videogame he wouldn't do any of those things; at least Marcus is pretty sure he wouldn't.
"Do you use this sales pitch with all your clients?" Marcus asks, breathing the words against Harlan's ear and the low, rich laugh it gets him sends a shiver down his spine. Before Harlan can answer a shrill ring sounds somewhere in the bedroom, and Harlan presses one last kiss to the side of his neck before he lets Marcus go.
"Hold that thought."
A few seconds later Harlan's flipping open a cell phone and sitting down on the edge of the bed, leaving Marcus to stare after him and wonder how he can switch from memorizing Marcus' neck with his tongue to all business in less than a minute. Either he's really good at compartmentalizing or he's a great actor, and Marcus' stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought. He doesn't want all this to be an act, but it's easier to believe that than to believe they can just pick up where they left off six years ago.
"No, I'm working on a new client," Harlan says, glancing over his shoulder to grin at Marcus. He's standing in the door to the bathroom now, arms crossed over his chest as he listens to Harlan's conversation. "Are you kidding? He's eating out of my hand."
Marcus blushes at the words accompanied by Harlan's signature grin, the one that makes Marcus feel naked even when he's not. Except right now he is - almost, anyway - and he feels a lot more exposed than usual.
"Can't somebody else handle it?" Harlan says, and his smile fades as he turns away from Marcus again. "Look, Dad…no, I get it. Okay, okay. I'm on my way."
Harlan flips the phone closed and drops it on the bed next to his bag. He digs out clean socks and underwear before he looks up at Marcus again, expression serious all of a sudden and Marcus' stomach does another 180.
"That was my old man. I have to get back."
And Marcus knew they'd have to go back to their lives sometime, but he didn't expect it to be so sudden. Not that he'd spent a lot of time thinking about it, but if he had he would have pictured something a little more romantic. Something involving long, slow kisses and murmured promises about making this thing work somehow, maybe. He hadn't expected Harlan to propose or anything, but he hadn't expected him to be so matter-of-fact about leaving out of the blue.
"Just like that?"
"Yeah." Harlan drops his towel on the floor and starts to get dressed, and Marcus hates himself a little for enjoying the show even while Harlan's about to run out on him. "Look, I've just got to put out a couple fires with a client, no big deal. It'll only take a couple days."
Marcus wants to ask what happens after that. He wants to ask if he's just supposed to hang around and wait by the phone, if Harlan's going to call and let him know the next time Marcus will fit into his schedule. He wants to know if this is the start of something or if it was an ending, if Harlan came here looking for him or if he just wanted closure. Instead he just scans the hotel room for the clothes he hasn't put on in almost forty-eight hours; forty-eight hours of room service and mind-blowing sex and wanting to pinch himself every time he woke up to find Harlan still there.
He's looking for his t-shirt when he realizes Harlan's watching him, freezing and straightening up to find Harlan standing at the end of the bed, hotter than ever in a suit and tie and holding Marcus' shirt in one hand. Marcus swallows a sigh and reaches for it, but instead of letting go Harlan uses the shirt to pull him closer. "What?"
"Nothing," Marcus says, but he doesn't quite meet Harlan's gaze. "I'm just trying to get out of your way."
"Out of my…Jesus Christ, Marcus. You haven't changed at all."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
Harlan grins and lets go of Marcus' shirt, waiting until he pulls it over his head to answer. "You always acted like an asshole whenever you didn't get your way."
And that's not fair, because the way Marcus remembers it, Harlan was the asshole. He's the one who used to torture Marcus for fun instead of just coming out and telling Marcus he wanted him. He was the one who showed off for his lame friends all the time, and as far as Marcus can tell he's still showing off.
"Funny, I always thought that was your department."
He's not expecting Harlan to laugh, but when he does some of the anger ebbs out of Marcus. Then a hand closes around the front of his shirt to drag him forward again, and Harlan plants a hard kiss on his mouth. "Okay, so I was kind of an asshole too."
"Kind of?" Marcus says, raising one eyebrow but the effect is ruined by his smile. He doesn't care, though, because Harlan's still holding onto him, and maybe that means he's not just going to walk out of the hotel and forget about all this.
"Don't push your luck, Ratner." Harlan kisses him again, slow this time, hand leaving the front of Marcus' shirt to slide around the back of his neck. Marcus' own hands find their way under Harlan's jacket, around his back to hold him tight and he wishes he didn't have to let go.
"You need a lift?" Harlan asks, murmuring the words against Marcus' cheek and his heart falls a little when he remembers that Harlan really is leaving.
"No, I…I have my car."
"Good. You can walk me down to the parking garage, then." Harlan grins and grabs his bag off the bed, tucks his cell phone into his pocket and leads Marcus out of the room. The elevator ride doesn't consist of long, slow kisses, but Harlan stares at him behind the backs of the elderly couple who were already on the elevator when it stopped on their floor, and by the time they get to the lobby Marcus is blushing again. He waits while Harlan checks out, then follows him to the parking garage, searching his memory in vain for any clue to where he left his car.
"I'm over here," Harlan says, gesturing toward a row of cars in front of them and Marcus is glad Harlan doesn't insist on seeing him to his own car. He doesn't want to admit he was so nervous when he showed up for dinner that he doesn't remember where he parked, so instead of gesturing vaguely in the direction his car may or may not be, he nods and follows Harlan.
He's still driving a Porsche, but this one's silver and Marcus spares a regret for the cherry red convertible he spent so much time in those last few months of senior year. And it bugs him a little that he's never ridden in this one, but he shakes his head when Harlan offers to give him a lift to his own car.
"Thanks, I think I can make it on my own," he says, although he has a feeling he's going to be wandering aimlessly around the garage for awhile.
"You sure?" Harlan asks, and just for a second he looks kind of disappointed, like maybe he doesn't want to leave any more than Marcus wants him to go.
"Yeah," Marcus answers, running a hand along silver paint. "Maybe next time."
"Right," Harlan says, then he's moving forward to press Marcus up against the side of the car, kissing him hard and by the time he lets Marcus go they're both panting. "I'll call you."
Marcus nods dumbly, moving aside to let Harlan slide into the driver's seat and start the engine. And he knows he probably looks like an idiot, standing there watching Harlan pull away, but a few seconds later Harlan's gone and it doesn't matter. It takes Marcus a few seconds to realize he's got his fingers pressed to his mouth, but this time there's no one around to see him blush. He forces his hand away from his lips anyway, swallowing a sigh as he heads off in search of his car.
And he knows he doesn't really have the right to expect it, but there's a part of him that hopes there's a message on his machine when he gets home.