Original -- Untitled
Part of the uber complicated famine/boylove/apocolyptic...thing. The backstory is long and such so...just take it for what it is.
“How is it,” Marcus asked, resting his head on his hand and watching as Kale bit his lip in concentration. “that someone who plays guitar professionally can have so much difficulty changing a set of strings?”
From across the table, Kale frowned and pulled the string to lay flat along fret board and lined it up carefully with the notches on the neck of the guitar. There had been a point in time when the process of changing the strings would have been easy, bordering on second nature. At his peak, during the few years during high school that he had spent playing and composing for various garage bands rather than studying, he could have restrung the guitar in less than ten minutes. Now, after years of hard times, changing the strings on his Fender Stratocaster had become a luxury he could only afford in the most desperate of situations. The twice yearly changing he had been accustomed to years ago had been forgotten; it was only when a string broke or became too rusty for him to play with that he made the begrudging trip to the local music store.
As he wound the string into place around the nut, he spared a glance at his companion and flashed him a grin. “Professionally? Do you know something I don’t?”
Marcus sat back, his chair creaking in protest as he leaned backwards and balanced it on two legs. Their furniture wasn’t modern and it certainly wasn’t anything close to pretty, but Marcus would be damned if he could find anything being made these days that could stand up to the abuse he and Kale put it through. He grinned back, putting his hands behind his head and letting his gaze linger down to where Kale’s fingers were nimbly winding the string around the bolt.
“I would say you’re professional. You play for a living after all.”
Kale snorted, shaking his head and lifting the guitar from the table to his lap. In his experience, professionals wore suits and lived in nice houses. They plied their trade and were
able to make a decent life for themselves with what they earned. Professionals didn’t live in rat infested lofts and sleep in a bed stolen from a dumpster. He plucked at the new string with his fingernail and listened to the pitch carefully before twisting the nut to the left.
“Some living.” He remarked, and plucked the string again.
“Maybe not now.” Marcus sat up straight again, letting the chair hit the floor with a hollow thunk and leaning his forearms on the table. He stared hard, hoping to coax Kale into lifting his gaze from the guitar and meet his eyes. Discussions like this always seemed to embarrass the younger of the two, as though it was his responsibility to be the breadwinner instead of Marcus’. “But that’s not exactly your fault, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” Satisfied with the pitch of the string, Kale lifted the guitar from his lap and laid it across the table gently. As he shuffled through the envelope for the next string, he looked up and gave Marcus a confident wink. “But one day that’s going to change. One day I’m going to make enough money playing that we’ll be able to afford to eat a good meal and maybe even move out of this shit hole.”
A slow smile spread across Marcus’ face as he watched Kale’s face brighten noticeably. He was no longer staring down at his guitar with the guilty look he was so prone to getting whenever he thought about money, but looking at Marcus with a sparkle of enthusiasm in his eyes.
“That’s the Kale I know.” He stood, leaning across the table before lifting a knee onto its surface and crawling over until he was face to face with Kale. He smirked as Kale cringed and addressed him with a whine.
“Be careful, Marcus! You’re going to kneel on my guitar!”
“No I’m not. I promise.” Marcus assured him, bracing a hand next to the fret board and pressing his forehead against Kale’s. “Now give me a kiss, babe.”
Concerned as he was for the safety of his prized instrument, Kale’s eyes never left Marcus’. He simply grinned and tilted his face forward to give the other man a quick peck on the lips, instantly feeling Marcus’ grin grow as his free hand snaked up to caress his cheek and pull him into a longer, deeper kiss. As they separated, Marcus held Kale’s face close, sliding his hand up to toy with the short hairs at the nape of Kale’s neck.
“Hm…” He smirked. “Why don’t you finish that later?”
Kale closed his eyes and nudged Marcus’ forehead with his own, mumbling just loudly enough to be heard. “I really shouldn’t leave it half done…”
“Oh come on.” Marcus pulled his face back to get a better look at Kale as he scratched lightly at the back of his neck and watched his smile grow. “You can leave it like that. Just move it somewhere else and come join me up here.”
Genre: Romance, Future
Summary: A flashback to one of the last moments Marcus and Kale spent together.