Fic: Let The Light In (The Eagle, AU), Chapter 11
Title: Let The Light In, Chapter 11
Pairing: Esca/Marcus
Rating: NC-17
Length: 6k
Warnings:
Summary: Marcus and Esca are acrobats performing in a Vegas circus spectacular, and Marcus is trying to figure out what's happening between them.
Marcus was confused. He was also receiving the most awe-inspiring blow job in human existence so wasn't about to seek clarity right this second, because he wasn't the stupidest man in Nevada. It'd started with a tousle-headed Esca giving him a sleepy smile and a 'Morning' before yawning and burrowing his way beneath the sheet to nuzzle and softly suck at Marcus's nutsack, exactly as if it hadn't been three days since they'd last fooled around. Maybe Marcus should've asked something like, We're doing this again? But that might mean Esca's lips wouldn't be slowly sliding back down the length of him right this second, soaking him with spit, and Esca's tongue wouldn't be sweeping back and forth in a manner that left Marcus closing his eyes and panting like an expectant mother in a Lamaze class.
Three days. Two nights of their act climaxing in a kiss as driven as it had been from the start, then awkwardly breaking it off, a silent walk back to the dressing room, a stilted drive back to Esca's place, and then Esca doing precisely what he said he'd do by keeping his hands to himself. Two nights of apologizing if a stray foot brushed against someone's leg in bed. Waking yesterday morning to find Esca lying flat on his back, one hand behind his head staring up at the ceiling, the bowed contour of his morning wood clearly visible through the sheet and the briefs they'd both started wearing to sleep in.
Marcus must've shifted as he'd started to wake, because Esca had twisted his head to look at him with what his sleep-clouded mind had interpreted as such a defeated expression it'd haunted Marcus the rest of the day. He'd been too drowsy to have the chance to say a word before Esca had turned away and sat up, his back to Marcus, head hanging, wordlessly making his way to the bathroom with the shower starting a second later.
“Want me to go faster?”
“Soon. Not yet.”
A wicked grin, and the amber silk of Esca's hair slid through and over Marcus's fingers as that enthusiastic mouth sought him out again for a long, engulfing suck that seemed to tug all the way down to the base of his spine. Something as simple as looking down to see Esca's head moving over him urged Marcus closer to a climax that was starting to corkscrew through his muscles, pressure building, his feet flexing as he let go of Esca's head to bunch the sheet up in both fists.
“Now. Oh, Jesus, it's coming fast . . .”
The sound of Esca's wet grunts and of his dick fucking through those tight lips drove Marcus higher, and he managed to look down at Esca one last time before the final barrier broke, a cresting swell of pressure releasing as he closed his eyes, moaned and started to unload deep in Esca's mouth. The intensity was different to how it'd been whenever he was fucking Esca in the ass, coming with a roar, feeling like he could break tree trunks in two with his bare hands. This was drawn-out and almost transcendental. The arc of his body relaxed back into the bed as the waves diminished, his mind floating down to join it moments later.
“Goddamn.” It felt like it didn't matter if he ever climaxed again. Marcus wiped over his eyes with a shaking hand, looking over to find Esca lying rigid at the bottom of the bed, teeth gritted and muscles straining, jacking himself desperately fast. “Gimme a sec and I'll help out.”
“Stay put. Just . . . want . . . to come.”
Shit. He'd have to move, and he didn't want to. Marcus forced himself over the bed towards Esca on muscles turned liquid, lying beside Esca to stroke his hand down a taut belly as he dipped his head to kiss that gifted mouth. But Esca jerked his head away from Marcus,
“No. Nearly there.”
“But I could -”
“Almost done.”
Esca spread his legs and reached down under his balls, pushing a dry fingertip inside himself to the knuckle, tendons standing out on his neck. Feeling more redundant than he was comfortable with, Marcus let his hand smooth its way back up to Esca's flushed chest, dragging his thumb in a slow circle across the nub of Esca's nipple, causing Esca to hiss and hike his hips upward. So he used his finger and thumb to pluck at it, a rolling pinch. Esca made a choking noise, gasped and starting shooting, a thick splatter of his cum crossing Marcus's forearm like a warm, wet ribbon.
“Oh, fuck, fuck. Fuck.” Small ripples of muscle contraction weaved themselves across Esca's skin beneath Marcus's hand. “Ahh, I needed that. Oh, yes.”
Marcus propped himself up on an elbow to look down into Esca's reddened face, letting his hand smooth upward across Esca's solid chest, heart pounding frantically beneath it. “Can I kiss you?”
A shake of the head, Esca grimacing down at himself and starting to wipe up his cum with the corner of the sheet. “Nah. Mouth's all jizzy.”
It hadn't bugged Esca in the past. Marcus had only taken a couple of weeks to move beyond 'So that's what my dick tastes like' to actually enjoying the uncomplicated evidence of how hot Esca always got him, the flavor of it all over Esca's tongue. His confusion returned and he drew his hand away to brush the cum off his arm, unsure if he was supposed to be touching Esca's skin. “So. Uh, what was that?”
“Hm? What was what? Just now?”
“Uh-huh. Why today?”
“Dunno.” Esca stretched out on the bed, scratched his stomach then gave Marcus a smeary, lopsided smile. “Don't overcomplicate everything. Think of it as a moving-out gift.”
“Some gift. You must be a blast at Christmas.”
“Honestly, I'm usually too busy getting pissed. Shouldn't we get a jog on? What's the time?”
“Almost ten.”
“Groovy.” Esca left the bed without a single further touch. “I wasn't going to bother showering, suppose I'll have to now.”
Confusion turned into consternation once they got to Marcus's storage unit. He was thirty years old and all he had in the world was a few boxes and crates, two gym bags crammed with clothes he didn't need, two lamps, a small folding table and his mom's ancient chair. Pretty pathetic. Plus Esca's chipper mood was grating on his last nerve. Sure, it might be natural for Esca to want to reclaim his space after the strain between them over the past couple of days, but Esca was whistling a cheerful tune through his teeth as he loaded another box into the back of the rental truck, the toned lines of his arm muscles standing out in the dazzling sunshine. Esca was whistling. Maybe Marcus had jumped out of the no man's land they'd been stuck in and traveled to the Twilight Zone somehow. Always good to know when people were pleased to see the back of you.
“Is that it? We're done?”
“Reckon so.” Marcus grabbed his hockey stick from the floor at the back. “Just this and a bunch of dried-out scorpion skins.”
“Scorpions? Jesus fucking shite, you fucking what?”
Marcus watched, then started to laugh as Esca began hopping from foot to foot, brushing at his hair and t-shirt and jeans like an entire nest of scorpions was climbing up him. “Chill the fuck out. Seriously, it's only molts. They probably over-wintered in there.”
“I can't believe you let me . . . ugh! Wanker!” Esca gave a full body shudder, turning himself around in a circle, searching out crawling things that weren't there.
“Are you like this with all bugs?”
“Any creepy pinchy bastards that want to kill me with their stabby little death tails, yes, I fucking am.”
At least the whistling had stopped. Marcus secured the tail gate, then opened the driver's door to key the ignition and get the air cooling the cab while he waited for Esca to quit freaking. “We should hit the road. Furniture's arriving at twelve.”
“Yeah?” Esca had scrunched up his face into the sun, which blazed off that pale skin until it glowed pink with heat, barely three freckles impairing its surface. “I'd been planning to give you a housewarming present once the bed got set up, but I'm honestly not in the mood now. Fucking scorpions.”
Marcus didn't want to say anything. Not a damn word. This morning aside, his life had been immeasurably more enjoyable until he'd opened his mouth three days ago, but it was their night off and he didn't want to be sitting alone at midnight in his mom's old chair without the slightest clue what the deal would be with Esca tomorrow, or the day after that. “I have to admit I kinda don't get what's happening. A housewarming gift in addition to earlier?”
Esca shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted off down the row of storage units, kicking at the dirt as he made his way to the truck. “Yeah, I know. Figured you'd want to have a deep and meaningful about it.”
“I'm just saying that, on Friday night, I thought we were getting back to before, whatever. I'm not complaining, but I'm going to be in my own place -”
“But don't you see? That's the beauty of it!” Esca swung up into the passenger seat with the same easy grace with which he prowled around his magical forest, immediately leaning in to play around with the air controls until the cold blast changed to a cooling trickle. “I've been thinking. We simply need to tone things down a notch. We both got surprised with how good the fucking was, right? Crazy good, just like you said.”
“Yeah. It was.” That one night against the bedroom wall would stay with Marcus till his dying day.
“Then of course that's going to screw with our heads. We'll live separately, plenty of time apart, and get each other off when it happens. No more kissy-kissy, nuzzly shite.” Esca fastened his seat belt, then started switching through radio stations, the jutting rim of his ear bright pink. “And no more trying out new stuff. We stick with the basics.” The ear was turning red. “Not that it wasn't lovely, but I've already been someone's failed experiment and have zero desire to go down that road again, thanks.”
Sitting in the cab of a U-haul pickup out by Nellis in a trash-strewn storage facility, all peeling sun-bleached paint and concrete walls pockmarked by desert winds, on his way to move into the shittiest apartment he'd rented in years, was a bizarre place to have an epiphany. Marcus felt his brow creasing, his jaw setting in place as he started to feel more than a little pissed. “You think I'm like your asshole ex.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Yeah, it was. It's why you wigged out.”
Esca left the radio playing some shitty dance tune from the nineties to stare stonily out his window. “Christ, forget I said anything. This is the exact sort of bollocks I'd like to avoid by taking things easy. Last thing I need is a fucking domestic.”
“Perhaps that's precisely what you need. Comparing me to that prick? Thanks. Appreciate it.”
Esca scowled and shoved his sunglasses on to hide behind, reaching out to turn the radio up to a volume that didn't allow for conversation. Marcus started the engine and pulled away, driving blindly out to the road beyond, halfway hoping a stray scorpion had crawled into the cab and beneath Esca's seat while they'd been loading up.
-
“Fuck! Take it, unh, take it easy.”
Marcus pushed all the way inside the snug sleeve of Esca's ass, following him down as Esca went sprawling again. “Told you we shoulda taken the plastic off.”
“I'm just so fucking sweaty.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” He was fighting for breath, sweat dripping into his eyes, his grip on Esca's hips sliding against Esca's soaked skin. Esca's hole kept relentlessly squeezing around him, and his throat was so dry he could barely swallow. “You need to take a break?”
“Bugger that, I'm halfway there. Keep going. But ease off a bit.”
“Sure. Can you -”
“Hang on.”
Esca slipped on the new mattress's plastic wrapper again as he pushed himself back up to his hands and knees, Marcus shifting behind him to stay buried to the hilt in all that tight heat. He restored his grip on Esca's hips and started a slow, deep grind inward rather than the fast, punishing fuck of a moment ago. Esca moaned, his head hanging down, muscles moving in his back and shoulders.
“Wish you weren't so good at this.”
Marcus hiked his hips in the way he knew would make Esca jolt and moan louder. “I wish I'd checked the window unit worked before signing the lease.”
“Hah. Yeah. Fuck, okay, get off a minute.” Esca pulled himself off Marcus, laying himself out across the plastic and stretching a leg up to rest his ankle on Marcus's shoulder, starting to jerk off. “There we go. Hammer away. Couldn't fap using both hands to stop from face-planting.”
He'd never last like this. Fucking Esca from behind was tough enough, with the responsive flexing of that lithe rope of spine, tight waist curving gently into two perfect, firm little ass cheeks that Marcus would grab and hold onto as he buried himself between them. But with Esca laid out beneath him, neck stretched back, all that ferocity melting into gasps and moans, biting his bottom lip as he stroked himself faster and squeezed around Marcus's thrusting dick like a goddamn milking machine . . . Marcus knew he should let it come, go faster and harder till he started to unload. His knee was aching in a sickly, bruised way after unloading all his boxes and making countless laden trips up and down the stairs to his new place. The first ten minutes of furious fucking had provoked it further, and he'd pay for it later.
When he'd hooked up with guys in the past, usually a pick-up in the strip club on the nights he'd been drinking, he hadn't cared that much about what was happening on the other end of his dick so long as it felt good. Then with girls, it had always been a matter of personal pride to hold out till they came first, reaching down to rub the pad of his thumb in a circle over the nub of her clit, trailing kisses down her skin to find a soft nipple to turn tight with his mouth and tongue. Only once that flutter of contraction would start around his dick would Marcus let himself go, but it wasn't pride with Esca that made him hold back, or consideration or lack of giving a shit. These days Marcus would find himself consciously reining it in because nothing in his life had aroused him so brutally as this, Esca starting to lose it, wet spasming asshole clamping down tight and every taut muscle in his torso bunching and contracting.
“Faster . . . oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck that's good, it's good, I'm, I'm . . .”
Then spurt after spurt of milky cum, always more when they'd been fucking, Esca letting go small sobs of satisfaction with each one. Marcus felt himself reacting all over, deep in his nuts, in his sweating, burning skin, his chest and lungs, all along the length of where his cock was buried in a mass of clenching heat. The same reaction in his head, which was overwhelmed with a rush of gratification and possessiveness that made him grab Esca's ankle tighter and fuck faster until he was coming so hard it made him shake, throat raw from shouting out something he couldn't remember. It hadn't been like this before no matter who he'd been with. He kept waiting for that to quit being the case, and it hadn't.
“You're dripping on me.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
Marcus didn't perspire this much during a show, sweat rolling off his soaked hair and forehead onto Esca's chest. He looked down at it through blurry eyes, his and Esca's sweat mixing with pearls of Esca's jizz on a stubbled throat, on a smooth chest. Marcus suddenly wanted to lean down for his first taste. He'd never tasted cum other than in someone else's mouth, never tried his own fresh from the source, not even during his horny teen years when all kinds of stuff had seemed like a great idea. Marcus blinked the sweat out of his eyes and stared down at Esca's cum, awareness starting to filter into his orgasm-fuddled brain that sampling it would probably make things way more complicated than they already were.
“Please tell me you've got some idea where a towel might be stashed in all your crap.” Esca winced as Marcus pulled out holding the rubber in place where he was going flaccid fast. “Also, banging on plastic wrap? Never again.”
“Blue sports bag on the chair. The shower works, if you want.”
“In a minute.”
They both lay there, stretched haphazardly across the bed top to toe, fighting for breath in the sweltering atmosphere. A full day's heat had built up in the single room that made up the majority of Marcus's new place. What had to be an antique window unit was battling to have any effect at all, its death rattle setting Marcus's teeth on edge now he and Esca had fallen silent. Esca heaved himself off the bed, skin gleaming with sweat and spunk, his cock retreating back into that velvety hooded skin, bodily evidence of the differences between them. Marcus had seen so few uncut guys before Esca, had no prior hands-on experience with them. It was pitiful how he thought it was kinda cute. Such a soft wrinkled sleeve. Esca would sigh and almost hum with pleasure if Marcus slid it slowly back and forth before he got fully hard.
“So, we're making rules. I figure this, us, needs boundaries.” Esca found an old beach towel to throw over to Marcus, digging out another to first dry his hair before scrubbing at his chest and stomach. “No kissing other than on stage. No fucking on plastic. And, seeing as I'm staggering around here bow-legged and am going to be regretting every second of that next time I have to take a shit, I'd like to add - no more angry sex.”
Marcus smiled underneath the towel, trying to soak up where his forehead wouldn't quit pouring sweat. “Then don't piss me off again. And eat more soluble fiber.”
The heavy air felt stagnant, the window unit continuing to rattle its way towards its inevitable end. When Esca finally spoke, it had a gruff note to it, as dehydrated as Marcus felt.
“I didn't intend to compare you to him. I wouldn't, because you aren't.”
“No?” Marcus drew the towel away, catching Esca's eye directly for the first time since they'd been at the storage unit. First time in hours.
“No. Bastien was a cunt. You're, y'know, not.”
Marcus returned Esca's slight smile. “Good to know.”
“Right. Okay, well,” Esca started off towards the small en-suite. “I'm going to go use your shower to soothe my raging bumhole for half an hour before I fuck off. You're still okay to drive me?”
“Sure. Oh, there's body wash in there, but it's not mine. It was already there.”
“Avoid the mystery body wash, gotcha.”
“Esca?” Marcus gathered the energy to sit up, conscious of the spare beauty in the stark lines of Esca's body as it half-turned to look back at him. “Thanks for helping out. It would've taken me all night.”
Was that a blush? It was difficult to tell in the heat of the room. “S'alright. What are mates for? Besides, whatever it takes to get all that sodding healthy shite out of my fridge . . .”
Esca headed off into the bathroom still talking, the peachy curve of his ass cheek disappearing behind the shower room door, the marks left behind by Marcus's fingers striping his hip with red lines.
-
It seemed like forever since he'd had a front door he could close on the world. Marcus looked over at it from where he was sitting in his mom's old chair, feet propped on the arm of the small couch that'd arrived with the bed and dresser. Nobody could come through that door without his permission or a warrant. That alone was worth the rent. A couple of hundred on cheap furniture and another on a new window unit had made the place a little more comfortable, along with wiping out the last of this month's paycheck. Cable, internet and a TV would have to wait another month, but the silence was good, if traffic noise and police sirens going past the windows counted as silence. Someplace better could wait. At least he had his door.
Shots or beer?
He smiled at Nattie's text, thumbing in a reply.
Beer. We eatin? Where u at
Her message came back a second later, so Marcus grabbed his new keys and headed out, thigh cramping as he made it down the stairs and across the street to the mini-mart on the corner, locating Nattie via the gigantic Iranian following morosely at her heels. He'd been expecting Nattie to get in touch, as she knew it was his night off and about the move into his new place, but Noz was an unanticipated addition. An unwelcome one, given Noz's impressive glower at Marcus once he'd joined them. Nattie did her usual squeal-hug-kiss routine, deepening the glower as Marcus unwound his arm from around her waist quicker than he usually would.
“Hey. How was the show tonight?”
“Oh, you know.” Some of the happiness faded her eyes. “Everyone's bored, it's all by route. I swear we've only got one more rotation in it now you Mahina assholes have stolen our limelight.”
“So Mario will come up with something else. You doing okay, Noz?”
“I am. Where is this place of yours?”
“Across the street. It's good of you to come.”
Noz's shoulders were broader and bulkier than Marcus's by half. It was unusual for Marcus to consider himself physically inferior to anyone, but the colossal motion of Noz's dismissive shrug left Marcus feeling decidedly second-banana. “I would never leave Natasha to travel in this area without the safety of my company.”
Implying that Marcus would? Besides, this was North Town, not Baghdad. Marcus kept his face composed, not wanting to start anything he definitely couldn't finish. “Hear that. So, beer and chips, that's it? We can do better. There's great chicken a block away, Noz.”
Nozs black eyes flickered. “Chicken? It's spicy?”
“If you want. They have two kinds.” Marcus grabbed another six-pack from the cooler, then jerked his head towards the cashier's desk. “C'mon. Tonight's on me.”
He could barely afford the beer, let alone Noz's family-size order of extra hot, but it didn't go anything near close enough to paying Nattie back for all the meals she'd fixed them both, all his renewed prescriptions and all those nights out to cheer him up while he'd been in a mess, unable to work, crashing on her couch and feeling like the world had turned its back on him. Everything Marcus had, he owed those few people - Nattie, Esca, his mom and his uncle. Lumière's insurance only paid for one round of surgery, which had done nothing for his motility, lessening the constant pain of the obliterated knee joint by the smallest degree. He'd drained himself then everyone else he knew dry when a different surgeon told him it could be fixed and that he might dance again. But he was performing again, was slowly paying off his debts, and that was progress.
“It's okay. No, I mean it. It's cute, I said so before. It's smaller than I remember. Didn't the agent say you could paint?” Nattie wrinkled her nose as she looked around the place from the limited comfort of the loveseat. “Noz and me could help out. Couldn't we, booboo?”
Noz made a non-committal noise around a huge mouthful of chicken thigh. Marcus drained his beer, getting up and limping to the kitchen to fetch another. “Thanks, but don't sweat it. It's okay as it is. Wouldn't exactly take me forever to do myself if I get around to it.”
“I guess not. How come you didn't go for one of the bigger places we saw?”
The nicer places. He could hear it in her voice. His last apartment before the accident hadn't been exactly palatial, but it'd been clean, freshly renovated with hardwood floors he could practice on and a separate bedroom with a fancy wet room, and he'd splurged on a California King that his feet didn't hang off if he stretched out to sleep.
“There's nothing wrong with this place. I can walk to work, which means I don't need to run a car, plus the walk's good for my knee.”
“Dangerous walk.” Noz was taking a break from his chicken to suck his fingers clean.
“For tourists. I look way too broke-ass these days for anyone to think I've got more than pocket change on me.” Gert, one of the wardrobe mistresses, was cutting his hair for him so it'd be easier for them to spike. It showed. “Yeah, it's smaller than I wanted. Mom's coming to visit soon, I'll have to take the floor. She wants you to come see Mahina with her. I said I'd get tickets.”
“Yeah?” Nattie squeaked and clapped her hands together gleefully. “I'd love that! You can get Noz a ticket, too? Cuz you wanna come too, right, boobear?”
“No.” Noz was rooting around his fries like he was digging for treasure. “I don't like the sexy stuff.”
“Baby, don't be so awful! It's art. I heard the show's divine, I've been dying to see it so you tell your mom I'm there. Ooh, I'll take her shopping first, we can dress up.”
“Yeah? She'd like that.”
Nattie leaned forward, dropping into a stage whisper. “And get a ticket for Noz. He never says no to me for long.”
“I can, and do, I have no desire to see this one and Esca all over each other. Hearing about it is enough. Why you would go from this beautiful desert flower, by choice,” Noz held out his hand, taking Nattie's and kissing its palm as she smiled, blushed delicately, heavy eyelashes drooping down. “To Esca, who is impossible to work with, so undisciplined, too aggressive, no patience. Why would you leave such beauty and femininity, and choose to be with someone so otherwise?”
Noz's quietly-spoken attack seemed to come out of nowhere. Marcus felt himself frowning, irritation starting to build. “. . . What?”
“Is it simply so that you may work? Which I can understand, a man must work, but why continue the pretense off-stage? I do not understand that. If you wish to fuck a man, there are many easier for company and more prettier than Esca, who is not . . .”
Irritation was turning into something else. Marcus could feel the skin on his face tightening and buzzing with heat, his fingers squeezing on his beer till the aluminum dented. “Esca isn't what, exactly?”
“I won't deny his skill. That he created your act in so little time, with someone so lacking in experience, is phenomenal. But Esca . . .” Noz gave another one of those careless, gargantuan shrugs. “I would not kiss him for all the money in all the casinos in town, yet you do more, and with him. It's madness to me.”
“Then I guess it's good it has nothing to do with you.”
“True. But Natasha cares for you, so you are in my life. We can be friends. There's a hoop dancer in Anima, he's new, what's his - ?”
“Tomas. He's adorable.”
“Yes, that's right, Tomas. Perhaps Natasha and I could ask . . .”
“The hell is this? An ambush?” Marcus got to his feet then realized there was nowhere to go. He should've rented someplace bigger. Nattie followed him over to what passed for a kitchen, over by the door, her hands sliding up his back to squeeze his shoulders.
“We're trying to help. There's a bunch of girls I could set you up with instead, if you don't want to be with another guy. Remember Ava? She always liked you.”
“Dammit, Nattie, I don't need a set-up. Is that the only reason you guys came over?”
“No, Markie, c'mon sweetie . . .”
“Because if that's the case, you might as well go. I'm not going to be great company tonight.”
Marcus needed to keep his hands busy, but there wasn't much to do as he'd finished tidying the place earlier. He threw five empty beer cans in a grocery sack for recycling, then stood there and looked at them, inwardly fuming. Sure, Esca could be a monumental pain in the ass. Noz had worked with him longer than Marcus, so he was going to know that better than anyone. But they hadn't seen Esca like Marcus had, or noticed the same stuff. They hadn't noticed when he'd been angry, bitching with vulnerable eyes that spoke volumes about how scared he was of failing, and how lonely that made him. They hadn't seen him drunk and exposed, fighting to keep hold of all those internal barriers that prevented him needing anybody, and they hadn't seen him in the turmoil of climax, guard down, lost in the moment. Nobody saw Esca like Marcus did. How clear that suddenly was knocked the breath out of him, his heart thumping irregularly against his breastbone.
“I hate to think about you sitting in here all alone, now things are over with Esca and you're living somewhere that's not, y'know, party central.” Nattie hugged into his back. “I'm so proud of how good you're doing but, honey, you don't have to do it all by yourself, and I can't be there for you like I used to be.”
“I know, and that's great. I'm happy for you both.”
“You are?”
Noz was looking at him, food temporarily ignored. Marcus was becoming aware that knowing Esca was changing him. He was cursing more, eating worse, watching more TV, and taking in details about the people around him now that he was practiced in looking for whatever nuance in Esca's closed-off expression would provide a key to what the hell was going on behind that ferocious glare. So, observing Noz's unblinking eyes and the blank slate of his face, some instinct Marcus had recently developed suggested to him that his opinion actually mattered to Noz, for whatever reason.
“Yeah, I am. You treat Nattie with respect, you seem to have some clue of how lucky you are, and she deserves all that and more.” Marcus took the few steps necessary to hold out a hand to Noz, who took it to shake. “I'm glad things are working out.”
“Thank you. It means a lot.”
“Aww. My two big men.” Nattie's eyes were filling, hands folded over her heart. “Me an' Noz just want you to find what we have. And Esca, too, I mean he's a cutie pie when he's not being such an asshole, but if it's really over with you guys, it's better to move on, right? Maybe he'd go for Tomas.”
“I don't know if it's over with Esca.”
Marcus had said it so softly, mostly to himself, that he wasn't sure anyone had heard it till Nattie answered.
“What? What happened? Spill it! Jeez, I'm here twenty minutes and you don't tell me something's happened?”
She grabbed him, tugging him over to sit on the end of the bed, Noz smirking and returning to his chicken.
“Nothing happened. Well, no, that's not true, stuff happened,” A bunch of it on this bed. “But Esca's not interested in anything serious.”
“And you are?”
Marcus groaned and fell back onto the bed, rubbing over his face with both hands. This whole day had been exhausting. “I don't know. Okay? I think I do, yeah, but it's not like I can force Esca to want the same.”
“Shit.” She clutched his thigh, squeezing hard. “Like, shit!”
“Natasha . . .”
“This is America, boobear, get over it.” She poked at Marcus's stomach with a finger. “I knew you liked him! Didn't I say, Noz?”
“She did say that.”
“So you like him and you moved out? Okay, yeah, I get it. Make him figure out he's missing you, nice.”
Marcus let his hands fall away. “That's not what I'm doing.”
“The unobtainable is undeniably attractive. How I longed for Natasha, for one example -”
“Don't need your input on this, Noz, thanks.” It was another ambush. Great. Marcus nudged Nattie's leg with his knee. “Let it go. It's a sex thing, it is what it is, and I can deal.”
She stretched out on the bed next to him. Six months ago, hell, even two or three, he'd have turned towards her and drawn her towards him slow, and they'd start kissing, and it would've been so simple and good, immersing himself in all her sweetness. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. Lying next to her on the bed he'd fucked Esca on only hours before, Marcus knew it was finally over between him and Nattie for good, not only because of Noz but because he looked at her and wished it was Esca this close and that he still had permission to lean in to kiss and taste, to touch and smell. To hold, because off-stage, he'd never held Esca for the hell of it and because it would feel good. It was what he wanted now, more than anything else, Esca's body fitting into his with those strong, slim arms around him, his nose nuzzling into a musky, stubbled neck. Taking a moment to get close.
“Alright, buster, you listen to me.” She'd started stroking his arm, something he'd have taken as a come-on on another day. Maybe it never had been before, maybe he'd always gotten that wrong. It was so clearly a comforting thing, almost sisterly. “You are a sweet, lovely guy with this big heart and a beautiful soul. If you want to waste all that on someone like Esca, then that's what you've got to do. So quit dicking around with all this 'just sex' BS and romance the shit out of that bitchy little motherfucker till he's begging you to move out of this craphole and back in with him. You got me?”
“Nattie . . .”
“No.” Her face was set, resolute and ruthless, exactly how it'd been when he'd worried about the second operation and decided against it once he'd figured out the potential cost to his family. “Don't 'Nattie' me. YOLO, you dumbass. You don't think I was taking a risk dating Noz? No offense, boobear, love ya.”
“You, too, azizam, queen of my heart.”
“You hear that?” She thumped his arm, and Marcus was sure she managed to catch the exact same spot she had the other day. “You want to be queen of Esca's heart? Then you gotta earn it, fucknut.”
Pairing: Esca/Marcus
Rating: NC-17
Length: 6k
Warnings:
Summary: Marcus and Esca are acrobats performing in a Vegas circus spectacular, and Marcus is trying to figure out what's happening between them.
Marcus was confused. He was also receiving the most awe-inspiring blow job in human existence so wasn't about to seek clarity right this second, because he wasn't the stupidest man in Nevada. It'd started with a tousle-headed Esca giving him a sleepy smile and a 'Morning' before yawning and burrowing his way beneath the sheet to nuzzle and softly suck at Marcus's nutsack, exactly as if it hadn't been three days since they'd last fooled around. Maybe Marcus should've asked something like, We're doing this again? But that might mean Esca's lips wouldn't be slowly sliding back down the length of him right this second, soaking him with spit, and Esca's tongue wouldn't be sweeping back and forth in a manner that left Marcus closing his eyes and panting like an expectant mother in a Lamaze class.
Three days. Two nights of their act climaxing in a kiss as driven as it had been from the start, then awkwardly breaking it off, a silent walk back to the dressing room, a stilted drive back to Esca's place, and then Esca doing precisely what he said he'd do by keeping his hands to himself. Two nights of apologizing if a stray foot brushed against someone's leg in bed. Waking yesterday morning to find Esca lying flat on his back, one hand behind his head staring up at the ceiling, the bowed contour of his morning wood clearly visible through the sheet and the briefs they'd both started wearing to sleep in.
Marcus must've shifted as he'd started to wake, because Esca had twisted his head to look at him with what his sleep-clouded mind had interpreted as such a defeated expression it'd haunted Marcus the rest of the day. He'd been too drowsy to have the chance to say a word before Esca had turned away and sat up, his back to Marcus, head hanging, wordlessly making his way to the bathroom with the shower starting a second later.
“Want me to go faster?”
“Soon. Not yet.”
A wicked grin, and the amber silk of Esca's hair slid through and over Marcus's fingers as that enthusiastic mouth sought him out again for a long, engulfing suck that seemed to tug all the way down to the base of his spine. Something as simple as looking down to see Esca's head moving over him urged Marcus closer to a climax that was starting to corkscrew through his muscles, pressure building, his feet flexing as he let go of Esca's head to bunch the sheet up in both fists.
“Now. Oh, Jesus, it's coming fast . . .”
The sound of Esca's wet grunts and of his dick fucking through those tight lips drove Marcus higher, and he managed to look down at Esca one last time before the final barrier broke, a cresting swell of pressure releasing as he closed his eyes, moaned and started to unload deep in Esca's mouth. The intensity was different to how it'd been whenever he was fucking Esca in the ass, coming with a roar, feeling like he could break tree trunks in two with his bare hands. This was drawn-out and almost transcendental. The arc of his body relaxed back into the bed as the waves diminished, his mind floating down to join it moments later.
“Goddamn.” It felt like it didn't matter if he ever climaxed again. Marcus wiped over his eyes with a shaking hand, looking over to find Esca lying rigid at the bottom of the bed, teeth gritted and muscles straining, jacking himself desperately fast. “Gimme a sec and I'll help out.”
“Stay put. Just . . . want . . . to come.”
Shit. He'd have to move, and he didn't want to. Marcus forced himself over the bed towards Esca on muscles turned liquid, lying beside Esca to stroke his hand down a taut belly as he dipped his head to kiss that gifted mouth. But Esca jerked his head away from Marcus,
“No. Nearly there.”
“But I could -”
“Almost done.”
Esca spread his legs and reached down under his balls, pushing a dry fingertip inside himself to the knuckle, tendons standing out on his neck. Feeling more redundant than he was comfortable with, Marcus let his hand smooth its way back up to Esca's flushed chest, dragging his thumb in a slow circle across the nub of Esca's nipple, causing Esca to hiss and hike his hips upward. So he used his finger and thumb to pluck at it, a rolling pinch. Esca made a choking noise, gasped and starting shooting, a thick splatter of his cum crossing Marcus's forearm like a warm, wet ribbon.
“Oh, fuck, fuck. Fuck.” Small ripples of muscle contraction weaved themselves across Esca's skin beneath Marcus's hand. “Ahh, I needed that. Oh, yes.”
Marcus propped himself up on an elbow to look down into Esca's reddened face, letting his hand smooth upward across Esca's solid chest, heart pounding frantically beneath it. “Can I kiss you?”
A shake of the head, Esca grimacing down at himself and starting to wipe up his cum with the corner of the sheet. “Nah. Mouth's all jizzy.”
It hadn't bugged Esca in the past. Marcus had only taken a couple of weeks to move beyond 'So that's what my dick tastes like' to actually enjoying the uncomplicated evidence of how hot Esca always got him, the flavor of it all over Esca's tongue. His confusion returned and he drew his hand away to brush the cum off his arm, unsure if he was supposed to be touching Esca's skin. “So. Uh, what was that?”
“Hm? What was what? Just now?”
“Uh-huh. Why today?”
“Dunno.” Esca stretched out on the bed, scratched his stomach then gave Marcus a smeary, lopsided smile. “Don't overcomplicate everything. Think of it as a moving-out gift.”
“Some gift. You must be a blast at Christmas.”
“Honestly, I'm usually too busy getting pissed. Shouldn't we get a jog on? What's the time?”
“Almost ten.”
“Groovy.” Esca left the bed without a single further touch. “I wasn't going to bother showering, suppose I'll have to now.”
Confusion turned into consternation once they got to Marcus's storage unit. He was thirty years old and all he had in the world was a few boxes and crates, two gym bags crammed with clothes he didn't need, two lamps, a small folding table and his mom's ancient chair. Pretty pathetic. Plus Esca's chipper mood was grating on his last nerve. Sure, it might be natural for Esca to want to reclaim his space after the strain between them over the past couple of days, but Esca was whistling a cheerful tune through his teeth as he loaded another box into the back of the rental truck, the toned lines of his arm muscles standing out in the dazzling sunshine. Esca was whistling. Maybe Marcus had jumped out of the no man's land they'd been stuck in and traveled to the Twilight Zone somehow. Always good to know when people were pleased to see the back of you.
“Is that it? We're done?”
“Reckon so.” Marcus grabbed his hockey stick from the floor at the back. “Just this and a bunch of dried-out scorpion skins.”
“Scorpions? Jesus fucking shite, you fucking what?”
Marcus watched, then started to laugh as Esca began hopping from foot to foot, brushing at his hair and t-shirt and jeans like an entire nest of scorpions was climbing up him. “Chill the fuck out. Seriously, it's only molts. They probably over-wintered in there.”
“I can't believe you let me . . . ugh! Wanker!” Esca gave a full body shudder, turning himself around in a circle, searching out crawling things that weren't there.
“Are you like this with all bugs?”
“Any creepy pinchy bastards that want to kill me with their stabby little death tails, yes, I fucking am.”
At least the whistling had stopped. Marcus secured the tail gate, then opened the driver's door to key the ignition and get the air cooling the cab while he waited for Esca to quit freaking. “We should hit the road. Furniture's arriving at twelve.”
“Yeah?” Esca had scrunched up his face into the sun, which blazed off that pale skin until it glowed pink with heat, barely three freckles impairing its surface. “I'd been planning to give you a housewarming present once the bed got set up, but I'm honestly not in the mood now. Fucking scorpions.”
Marcus didn't want to say anything. Not a damn word. This morning aside, his life had been immeasurably more enjoyable until he'd opened his mouth three days ago, but it was their night off and he didn't want to be sitting alone at midnight in his mom's old chair without the slightest clue what the deal would be with Esca tomorrow, or the day after that. “I have to admit I kinda don't get what's happening. A housewarming gift in addition to earlier?”
Esca shoved his hands in his pockets and squinted off down the row of storage units, kicking at the dirt as he made his way to the truck. “Yeah, I know. Figured you'd want to have a deep and meaningful about it.”
“I'm just saying that, on Friday night, I thought we were getting back to before, whatever. I'm not complaining, but I'm going to be in my own place -”
“But don't you see? That's the beauty of it!” Esca swung up into the passenger seat with the same easy grace with which he prowled around his magical forest, immediately leaning in to play around with the air controls until the cold blast changed to a cooling trickle. “I've been thinking. We simply need to tone things down a notch. We both got surprised with how good the fucking was, right? Crazy good, just like you said.”
“Yeah. It was.” That one night against the bedroom wall would stay with Marcus till his dying day.
“Then of course that's going to screw with our heads. We'll live separately, plenty of time apart, and get each other off when it happens. No more kissy-kissy, nuzzly shite.” Esca fastened his seat belt, then started switching through radio stations, the jutting rim of his ear bright pink. “And no more trying out new stuff. We stick with the basics.” The ear was turning red. “Not that it wasn't lovely, but I've already been someone's failed experiment and have zero desire to go down that road again, thanks.”
Sitting in the cab of a U-haul pickup out by Nellis in a trash-strewn storage facility, all peeling sun-bleached paint and concrete walls pockmarked by desert winds, on his way to move into the shittiest apartment he'd rented in years, was a bizarre place to have an epiphany. Marcus felt his brow creasing, his jaw setting in place as he started to feel more than a little pissed. “You think I'm like your asshole ex.”
“That's not what I meant.”
“Yeah, it was. It's why you wigged out.”
Esca left the radio playing some shitty dance tune from the nineties to stare stonily out his window. “Christ, forget I said anything. This is the exact sort of bollocks I'd like to avoid by taking things easy. Last thing I need is a fucking domestic.”
“Perhaps that's precisely what you need. Comparing me to that prick? Thanks. Appreciate it.”
Esca scowled and shoved his sunglasses on to hide behind, reaching out to turn the radio up to a volume that didn't allow for conversation. Marcus started the engine and pulled away, driving blindly out to the road beyond, halfway hoping a stray scorpion had crawled into the cab and beneath Esca's seat while they'd been loading up.
-
“Fuck! Take it, unh, take it easy.”
Marcus pushed all the way inside the snug sleeve of Esca's ass, following him down as Esca went sprawling again. “Told you we shoulda taken the plastic off.”
“I'm just so fucking sweaty.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” He was fighting for breath, sweat dripping into his eyes, his grip on Esca's hips sliding against Esca's soaked skin. Esca's hole kept relentlessly squeezing around him, and his throat was so dry he could barely swallow. “You need to take a break?”
“Bugger that, I'm halfway there. Keep going. But ease off a bit.”
“Sure. Can you -”
“Hang on.”
Esca slipped on the new mattress's plastic wrapper again as he pushed himself back up to his hands and knees, Marcus shifting behind him to stay buried to the hilt in all that tight heat. He restored his grip on Esca's hips and started a slow, deep grind inward rather than the fast, punishing fuck of a moment ago. Esca moaned, his head hanging down, muscles moving in his back and shoulders.
“Wish you weren't so good at this.”
Marcus hiked his hips in the way he knew would make Esca jolt and moan louder. “I wish I'd checked the window unit worked before signing the lease.”
“Hah. Yeah. Fuck, okay, get off a minute.” Esca pulled himself off Marcus, laying himself out across the plastic and stretching a leg up to rest his ankle on Marcus's shoulder, starting to jerk off. “There we go. Hammer away. Couldn't fap using both hands to stop from face-planting.”
He'd never last like this. Fucking Esca from behind was tough enough, with the responsive flexing of that lithe rope of spine, tight waist curving gently into two perfect, firm little ass cheeks that Marcus would grab and hold onto as he buried himself between them. But with Esca laid out beneath him, neck stretched back, all that ferocity melting into gasps and moans, biting his bottom lip as he stroked himself faster and squeezed around Marcus's thrusting dick like a goddamn milking machine . . . Marcus knew he should let it come, go faster and harder till he started to unload. His knee was aching in a sickly, bruised way after unloading all his boxes and making countless laden trips up and down the stairs to his new place. The first ten minutes of furious fucking had provoked it further, and he'd pay for it later.
When he'd hooked up with guys in the past, usually a pick-up in the strip club on the nights he'd been drinking, he hadn't cared that much about what was happening on the other end of his dick so long as it felt good. Then with girls, it had always been a matter of personal pride to hold out till they came first, reaching down to rub the pad of his thumb in a circle over the nub of her clit, trailing kisses down her skin to find a soft nipple to turn tight with his mouth and tongue. Only once that flutter of contraction would start around his dick would Marcus let himself go, but it wasn't pride with Esca that made him hold back, or consideration or lack of giving a shit. These days Marcus would find himself consciously reining it in because nothing in his life had aroused him so brutally as this, Esca starting to lose it, wet spasming asshole clamping down tight and every taut muscle in his torso bunching and contracting.
“Faster . . . oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck that's good, it's good, I'm, I'm . . .”
Then spurt after spurt of milky cum, always more when they'd been fucking, Esca letting go small sobs of satisfaction with each one. Marcus felt himself reacting all over, deep in his nuts, in his sweating, burning skin, his chest and lungs, all along the length of where his cock was buried in a mass of clenching heat. The same reaction in his head, which was overwhelmed with a rush of gratification and possessiveness that made him grab Esca's ankle tighter and fuck faster until he was coming so hard it made him shake, throat raw from shouting out something he couldn't remember. It hadn't been like this before no matter who he'd been with. He kept waiting for that to quit being the case, and it hadn't.
“You're dripping on me.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
Marcus didn't perspire this much during a show, sweat rolling off his soaked hair and forehead onto Esca's chest. He looked down at it through blurry eyes, his and Esca's sweat mixing with pearls of Esca's jizz on a stubbled throat, on a smooth chest. Marcus suddenly wanted to lean down for his first taste. He'd never tasted cum other than in someone else's mouth, never tried his own fresh from the source, not even during his horny teen years when all kinds of stuff had seemed like a great idea. Marcus blinked the sweat out of his eyes and stared down at Esca's cum, awareness starting to filter into his orgasm-fuddled brain that sampling it would probably make things way more complicated than they already were.
“Please tell me you've got some idea where a towel might be stashed in all your crap.” Esca winced as Marcus pulled out holding the rubber in place where he was going flaccid fast. “Also, banging on plastic wrap? Never again.”
“Blue sports bag on the chair. The shower works, if you want.”
“In a minute.”
They both lay there, stretched haphazardly across the bed top to toe, fighting for breath in the sweltering atmosphere. A full day's heat had built up in the single room that made up the majority of Marcus's new place. What had to be an antique window unit was battling to have any effect at all, its death rattle setting Marcus's teeth on edge now he and Esca had fallen silent. Esca heaved himself off the bed, skin gleaming with sweat and spunk, his cock retreating back into that velvety hooded skin, bodily evidence of the differences between them. Marcus had seen so few uncut guys before Esca, had no prior hands-on experience with them. It was pitiful how he thought it was kinda cute. Such a soft wrinkled sleeve. Esca would sigh and almost hum with pleasure if Marcus slid it slowly back and forth before he got fully hard.
“So, we're making rules. I figure this, us, needs boundaries.” Esca found an old beach towel to throw over to Marcus, digging out another to first dry his hair before scrubbing at his chest and stomach. “No kissing other than on stage. No fucking on plastic. And, seeing as I'm staggering around here bow-legged and am going to be regretting every second of that next time I have to take a shit, I'd like to add - no more angry sex.”
Marcus smiled underneath the towel, trying to soak up where his forehead wouldn't quit pouring sweat. “Then don't piss me off again. And eat more soluble fiber.”
The heavy air felt stagnant, the window unit continuing to rattle its way towards its inevitable end. When Esca finally spoke, it had a gruff note to it, as dehydrated as Marcus felt.
“I didn't intend to compare you to him. I wouldn't, because you aren't.”
“No?” Marcus drew the towel away, catching Esca's eye directly for the first time since they'd been at the storage unit. First time in hours.
“No. Bastien was a cunt. You're, y'know, not.”
Marcus returned Esca's slight smile. “Good to know.”
“Right. Okay, well,” Esca started off towards the small en-suite. “I'm going to go use your shower to soothe my raging bumhole for half an hour before I fuck off. You're still okay to drive me?”
“Sure. Oh, there's body wash in there, but it's not mine. It was already there.”
“Avoid the mystery body wash, gotcha.”
“Esca?” Marcus gathered the energy to sit up, conscious of the spare beauty in the stark lines of Esca's body as it half-turned to look back at him. “Thanks for helping out. It would've taken me all night.”
Was that a blush? It was difficult to tell in the heat of the room. “S'alright. What are mates for? Besides, whatever it takes to get all that sodding healthy shite out of my fridge . . .”
Esca headed off into the bathroom still talking, the peachy curve of his ass cheek disappearing behind the shower room door, the marks left behind by Marcus's fingers striping his hip with red lines.
-
It seemed like forever since he'd had a front door he could close on the world. Marcus looked over at it from where he was sitting in his mom's old chair, feet propped on the arm of the small couch that'd arrived with the bed and dresser. Nobody could come through that door without his permission or a warrant. That alone was worth the rent. A couple of hundred on cheap furniture and another on a new window unit had made the place a little more comfortable, along with wiping out the last of this month's paycheck. Cable, internet and a TV would have to wait another month, but the silence was good, if traffic noise and police sirens going past the windows counted as silence. Someplace better could wait. At least he had his door.
Shots or beer?
He smiled at Nattie's text, thumbing in a reply.
Beer. We eatin? Where u at
Her message came back a second later, so Marcus grabbed his new keys and headed out, thigh cramping as he made it down the stairs and across the street to the mini-mart on the corner, locating Nattie via the gigantic Iranian following morosely at her heels. He'd been expecting Nattie to get in touch, as she knew it was his night off and about the move into his new place, but Noz was an unanticipated addition. An unwelcome one, given Noz's impressive glower at Marcus once he'd joined them. Nattie did her usual squeal-hug-kiss routine, deepening the glower as Marcus unwound his arm from around her waist quicker than he usually would.
“Hey. How was the show tonight?”
“Oh, you know.” Some of the happiness faded her eyes. “Everyone's bored, it's all by route. I swear we've only got one more rotation in it now you Mahina assholes have stolen our limelight.”
“So Mario will come up with something else. You doing okay, Noz?”
“I am. Where is this place of yours?”
“Across the street. It's good of you to come.”
Noz's shoulders were broader and bulkier than Marcus's by half. It was unusual for Marcus to consider himself physically inferior to anyone, but the colossal motion of Noz's dismissive shrug left Marcus feeling decidedly second-banana. “I would never leave Natasha to travel in this area without the safety of my company.”
Implying that Marcus would? Besides, this was North Town, not Baghdad. Marcus kept his face composed, not wanting to start anything he definitely couldn't finish. “Hear that. So, beer and chips, that's it? We can do better. There's great chicken a block away, Noz.”
Nozs black eyes flickered. “Chicken? It's spicy?”
“If you want. They have two kinds.” Marcus grabbed another six-pack from the cooler, then jerked his head towards the cashier's desk. “C'mon. Tonight's on me.”
He could barely afford the beer, let alone Noz's family-size order of extra hot, but it didn't go anything near close enough to paying Nattie back for all the meals she'd fixed them both, all his renewed prescriptions and all those nights out to cheer him up while he'd been in a mess, unable to work, crashing on her couch and feeling like the world had turned its back on him. Everything Marcus had, he owed those few people - Nattie, Esca, his mom and his uncle. Lumière's insurance only paid for one round of surgery, which had done nothing for his motility, lessening the constant pain of the obliterated knee joint by the smallest degree. He'd drained himself then everyone else he knew dry when a different surgeon told him it could be fixed and that he might dance again. But he was performing again, was slowly paying off his debts, and that was progress.
“It's okay. No, I mean it. It's cute, I said so before. It's smaller than I remember. Didn't the agent say you could paint?” Nattie wrinkled her nose as she looked around the place from the limited comfort of the loveseat. “Noz and me could help out. Couldn't we, booboo?”
Noz made a non-committal noise around a huge mouthful of chicken thigh. Marcus drained his beer, getting up and limping to the kitchen to fetch another. “Thanks, but don't sweat it. It's okay as it is. Wouldn't exactly take me forever to do myself if I get around to it.”
“I guess not. How come you didn't go for one of the bigger places we saw?”
The nicer places. He could hear it in her voice. His last apartment before the accident hadn't been exactly palatial, but it'd been clean, freshly renovated with hardwood floors he could practice on and a separate bedroom with a fancy wet room, and he'd splurged on a California King that his feet didn't hang off if he stretched out to sleep.
“There's nothing wrong with this place. I can walk to work, which means I don't need to run a car, plus the walk's good for my knee.”
“Dangerous walk.” Noz was taking a break from his chicken to suck his fingers clean.
“For tourists. I look way too broke-ass these days for anyone to think I've got more than pocket change on me.” Gert, one of the wardrobe mistresses, was cutting his hair for him so it'd be easier for them to spike. It showed. “Yeah, it's smaller than I wanted. Mom's coming to visit soon, I'll have to take the floor. She wants you to come see Mahina with her. I said I'd get tickets.”
“Yeah?” Nattie squeaked and clapped her hands together gleefully. “I'd love that! You can get Noz a ticket, too? Cuz you wanna come too, right, boobear?”
“No.” Noz was rooting around his fries like he was digging for treasure. “I don't like the sexy stuff.”
“Baby, don't be so awful! It's art. I heard the show's divine, I've been dying to see it so you tell your mom I'm there. Ooh, I'll take her shopping first, we can dress up.”
“Yeah? She'd like that.”
Nattie leaned forward, dropping into a stage whisper. “And get a ticket for Noz. He never says no to me for long.”
“I can, and do, I have no desire to see this one and Esca all over each other. Hearing about it is enough. Why you would go from this beautiful desert flower, by choice,” Noz held out his hand, taking Nattie's and kissing its palm as she smiled, blushed delicately, heavy eyelashes drooping down. “To Esca, who is impossible to work with, so undisciplined, too aggressive, no patience. Why would you leave such beauty and femininity, and choose to be with someone so otherwise?”
Noz's quietly-spoken attack seemed to come out of nowhere. Marcus felt himself frowning, irritation starting to build. “. . . What?”
“Is it simply so that you may work? Which I can understand, a man must work, but why continue the pretense off-stage? I do not understand that. If you wish to fuck a man, there are many easier for company and more prettier than Esca, who is not . . .”
Irritation was turning into something else. Marcus could feel the skin on his face tightening and buzzing with heat, his fingers squeezing on his beer till the aluminum dented. “Esca isn't what, exactly?”
“I won't deny his skill. That he created your act in so little time, with someone so lacking in experience, is phenomenal. But Esca . . .” Noz gave another one of those careless, gargantuan shrugs. “I would not kiss him for all the money in all the casinos in town, yet you do more, and with him. It's madness to me.”
“Then I guess it's good it has nothing to do with you.”
“True. But Natasha cares for you, so you are in my life. We can be friends. There's a hoop dancer in Anima, he's new, what's his - ?”
“Tomas. He's adorable.”
“Yes, that's right, Tomas. Perhaps Natasha and I could ask . . .”
“The hell is this? An ambush?” Marcus got to his feet then realized there was nowhere to go. He should've rented someplace bigger. Nattie followed him over to what passed for a kitchen, over by the door, her hands sliding up his back to squeeze his shoulders.
“We're trying to help. There's a bunch of girls I could set you up with instead, if you don't want to be with another guy. Remember Ava? She always liked you.”
“Dammit, Nattie, I don't need a set-up. Is that the only reason you guys came over?”
“No, Markie, c'mon sweetie . . .”
“Because if that's the case, you might as well go. I'm not going to be great company tonight.”
Marcus needed to keep his hands busy, but there wasn't much to do as he'd finished tidying the place earlier. He threw five empty beer cans in a grocery sack for recycling, then stood there and looked at them, inwardly fuming. Sure, Esca could be a monumental pain in the ass. Noz had worked with him longer than Marcus, so he was going to know that better than anyone. But they hadn't seen Esca like Marcus had, or noticed the same stuff. They hadn't noticed when he'd been angry, bitching with vulnerable eyes that spoke volumes about how scared he was of failing, and how lonely that made him. They hadn't seen him drunk and exposed, fighting to keep hold of all those internal barriers that prevented him needing anybody, and they hadn't seen him in the turmoil of climax, guard down, lost in the moment. Nobody saw Esca like Marcus did. How clear that suddenly was knocked the breath out of him, his heart thumping irregularly against his breastbone.
“I hate to think about you sitting in here all alone, now things are over with Esca and you're living somewhere that's not, y'know, party central.” Nattie hugged into his back. “I'm so proud of how good you're doing but, honey, you don't have to do it all by yourself, and I can't be there for you like I used to be.”
“I know, and that's great. I'm happy for you both.”
“You are?”
Noz was looking at him, food temporarily ignored. Marcus was becoming aware that knowing Esca was changing him. He was cursing more, eating worse, watching more TV, and taking in details about the people around him now that he was practiced in looking for whatever nuance in Esca's closed-off expression would provide a key to what the hell was going on behind that ferocious glare. So, observing Noz's unblinking eyes and the blank slate of his face, some instinct Marcus had recently developed suggested to him that his opinion actually mattered to Noz, for whatever reason.
“Yeah, I am. You treat Nattie with respect, you seem to have some clue of how lucky you are, and she deserves all that and more.” Marcus took the few steps necessary to hold out a hand to Noz, who took it to shake. “I'm glad things are working out.”
“Thank you. It means a lot.”
“Aww. My two big men.” Nattie's eyes were filling, hands folded over her heart. “Me an' Noz just want you to find what we have. And Esca, too, I mean he's a cutie pie when he's not being such an asshole, but if it's really over with you guys, it's better to move on, right? Maybe he'd go for Tomas.”
“I don't know if it's over with Esca.”
Marcus had said it so softly, mostly to himself, that he wasn't sure anyone had heard it till Nattie answered.
“What? What happened? Spill it! Jeez, I'm here twenty minutes and you don't tell me something's happened?”
She grabbed him, tugging him over to sit on the end of the bed, Noz smirking and returning to his chicken.
“Nothing happened. Well, no, that's not true, stuff happened,” A bunch of it on this bed. “But Esca's not interested in anything serious.”
“And you are?”
Marcus groaned and fell back onto the bed, rubbing over his face with both hands. This whole day had been exhausting. “I don't know. Okay? I think I do, yeah, but it's not like I can force Esca to want the same.”
“Shit.” She clutched his thigh, squeezing hard. “Like, shit!”
“Natasha . . .”
“This is America, boobear, get over it.” She poked at Marcus's stomach with a finger. “I knew you liked him! Didn't I say, Noz?”
“She did say that.”
“So you like him and you moved out? Okay, yeah, I get it. Make him figure out he's missing you, nice.”
Marcus let his hands fall away. “That's not what I'm doing.”
“The unobtainable is undeniably attractive. How I longed for Natasha, for one example -”
“Don't need your input on this, Noz, thanks.” It was another ambush. Great. Marcus nudged Nattie's leg with his knee. “Let it go. It's a sex thing, it is what it is, and I can deal.”
She stretched out on the bed next to him. Six months ago, hell, even two or three, he'd have turned towards her and drawn her towards him slow, and they'd start kissing, and it would've been so simple and good, immersing himself in all her sweetness. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever known. Lying next to her on the bed he'd fucked Esca on only hours before, Marcus knew it was finally over between him and Nattie for good, not only because of Noz but because he looked at her and wished it was Esca this close and that he still had permission to lean in to kiss and taste, to touch and smell. To hold, because off-stage, he'd never held Esca for the hell of it and because it would feel good. It was what he wanted now, more than anything else, Esca's body fitting into his with those strong, slim arms around him, his nose nuzzling into a musky, stubbled neck. Taking a moment to get close.
“Alright, buster, you listen to me.” She'd started stroking his arm, something he'd have taken as a come-on on another day. Maybe it never had been before, maybe he'd always gotten that wrong. It was so clearly a comforting thing, almost sisterly. “You are a sweet, lovely guy with this big heart and a beautiful soul. If you want to waste all that on someone like Esca, then that's what you've got to do. So quit dicking around with all this 'just sex' BS and romance the shit out of that bitchy little motherfucker till he's begging you to move out of this craphole and back in with him. You got me?”
“Nattie . . .”
“No.” Her face was set, resolute and ruthless, exactly how it'd been when he'd worried about the second operation and decided against it once he'd figured out the potential cost to his family. “Don't 'Nattie' me. YOLO, you dumbass. You don't think I was taking a risk dating Noz? No offense, boobear, love ya.”
“You, too, azizam, queen of my heart.”
“You hear that?” She thumped his arm, and Marcus was sure she managed to catch the exact same spot she had the other day. “You want to be queen of Esca's heart? Then you gotta earn it, fucknut.”