pushbackthedarkness | (no subject)

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For the first time in a very long time, Marcus is wonderfully nervous.

Since five this afternoon, he's been trying to get ready for tonight without rushing through it, just to give himself something to do other than stare at the clock. He showers late, takes a bit of time in front of the bathroom mirror fixing his hair and beard, then spends a full half hour in his bedroom trying to pick the proper outfit for his first real date, possibly ever. They're going to Hideout after dinner, so he ends up with something casual, a pair of dark jeans with a dark red t-shirt on under his light jacket.

He thinks he looks good. At this point he has absolutely no idea.

Sabrina hasn't teased him too much about this, although Marcus suspects Salem of looking especially smug. Even his meows have a particular I told you so quality to them that Marcus is sure he can hear. Still, it's not as if they'd been wrong in the end. Nor Neil. He's never going to hear the end of it.

Just after six thirty, he finally gives up all pretenses of being calm and climbs into the truck, heading for the Bramford. He's picked a place for dinner that's light, but doesn't lean heavily on its drink menu, wanting to make sure Dan didn't feel uncomfortable. Hideout is undeniably a place for music above all else, but they do serve a lot of alcohol there, too, and he's just hoping the band will be enough of a distraction.

He's early, of course, and he turns off the truck and then sits outside by the curb for a few minutes before realizing Dan probably already knows he's there. Huffing out a soft laugh at himself, Marcus gets out of the truck and heads for the front door of the building.

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Dan catches the drift of thoughts, the gentle spill of it, and squeezes Marcus's hand. He knows what it's like, to need to stay at a distance, to keep everything orderly, locked away if it's too dangerous. He remembers how long it had taken after the Overlook not to feel as if any stray thought might worm into his brain, try to hurt him.

It has to be the exorcist thing, he thinks, and by that he means whatever made Marcus able to do great and terrible things for God, that special quality was already there. Just honed now.

"We'll do lots of them," Dan says. "I'd like to go back to the beach, or we could go to the movies. I'll come cook for you."

"Do you cook?" Marcus asks. "Well, then I'm certainly keeping you around."

It's teasing, of course, but he's surprised by the ease with which the words come. Yes, he's teasing, but he finds he means them all the same. If Dan wants to be around, then Marcus is going to want him there, and he doubts very much there's going to be anything that changes that. Even if they had never kissed, even if this date had never happened, he would have wanted Dan's friendship. Anything he was willing to give.

"This place has fantastic parties sometimes. I'd like to take you," he says, leaning in, brushing his lips against Dan's temple. On the stage the band starts up a particularly heavy song, one Marcus can feel right down in his chest, the vibrations of the bass singing in his bones, and he closes his eyes to enjoy it. This is as close to a perfect moment as he's had, he thinks, with the music in his body, Dan's hand in his, his lips still brushing Dan's skin lightly.

"I've always gotten by, but I might even be a good cook if I had someone else to feed," Dan says, which is true. Simple things, but in that wisp of a notion of what life might be, should he keep on this path, he can see learning.

He's not surprised to find that the idea of Marcus taking him to parties, something he'd usually avoid for dozens of reasons, doesn't seem like something he wants to avoid. "You'll have to stay close enough to touch," Dan says, half a warning and half a promise. He feels a little giddy, like his skin is buzzing. He lets his thumb stroke the back of Marcus's hand, and falls quiet so they can both feel the moment, the world around them and the connection between them.

It's good. It's really fucking good.

"I think that's a fair trade off," he agrees softly and through the music and everything else around them, he feels a buzz of anticipation. This very thing that he'd imagined would never happen for him again is happening right here, right before his very eyes, and almost as if beyond his control. As if something led him right here without his having realized at all.

It's a rather incredible thought.

When the band is finished, the bar begins to empty out, although only for a little while. There's another act and people are going outside to have a cigarette or chat with their friends. Others are heading to the bar for another drink, but there's nothing there for them. Dan doesn't drink and the food here is rather terrible, so Marcus squeezes Dan's hand and leans in again.

"Would you like to head out?" he asks. "We can take a walk or..." Or he's not sure what.

Dan lets himself drift a bit, mentally, still reeling from the novelty of being able to do such a thing, of being emotionally and psychically capable of trusting another person this way, of trusting himself this way.

He meets Marcus's gaze and gives a little nod. "Yeah, I was thinking maybe you could come back with me to my place for a bit. I'll clear out the ghosts, promise."

Not the night, he thinks they both want to hold out a little longer, feel the anticipation, but he thinks some time spent pretending to watch a movie (assuming they get that far) would be the way to cap the evening.

Marcus doesn't think either of them are ready for him to spend the night, not quite yet, but he very much likes the idea of going to Dan's for at least a little while. Ghosts or not, there's something terribly appealing and simple in going home with Dan after a date, even if all they really do is sit on the couch together.

He has a feeling that isn't going to be all they get up to, but he also doesn't want to presume.

"That sounds good," he says as he slides out of the booth without letting go of Dan's hand. The drummer from the band they've just seen recognizes him and she smiles, giving a wave, her expression brightening a little when she sees that Marcus is clearly on a date. He grins at her and waves back, then looks to Dan. "I think that sounds like a really nice way to end the evening. With or without the ghosts."

Dan wonders, briefly, if Marcus knows how many warm thoughts are directed in his direction-- not just because he's objectively charming and kind and handsome, but because he inspires that warmth in other people. It doesn't seem like a first date revelation, however, and Dan has other things on his mind.

Other things like getting back to his apartment with Marcus in tow, and then inside, but not before telling a couple of spirits to take their routine upstairs.

Other things like closing his door, locking it, and immediately crowding Marcus up against it, kissing him eagerly. He's waited all evening, very patiently, and he wants more now.

As the door closes behind them, Marcus has a feeling they're not going to make it as far as the couch, at least not at first, and he's very comfortable with that. Dan presses close to him and Marcus leans in to meet his mouth in an eager kiss, one that feels as good as it sounded when Dan asked him to come back here. Whether the ghosts are hanging around or not, Marcus would never know, not with as wrapped up in this moment as he is.

Dan's mouth is warm beneath his and Marcus's lips part, his tongue exploring as a shuddering sigh slips out of him. It's so simple, just a wonderful kiss against Dan's apartment door, but he's been missing this. The perfect simplicity of just kissing someone he cares about. How warm it can make him feel, how important.

"Here, just..." He pauses, grinning against Dan's mouth, then pulls his hands back to shake his jacket off. Then he's touching Dan again, one hand on his jaw, the other at his waist, diving back into the kiss.

The feeling he gets as he kisses Marcus feels a lot like finally getting his hands on a glass of cold water after a long shift, like some part of him that's been left thirsty and neglected is finally getting what it needs, in a way that's deep and sweet and feels like growing.

He takes the opportunity to get his own jacket off as Marcus does, so that it's thin layers of cotton between them, neither too fast or too slow, just right. His own hands come to rest on Marcus's sides, feeling him breathe, pressing in slightly on his ribs.

It's worth the wait, and he knew it would be. Dan presses closer, caught up in the warmth of him, the way their open mouths come together again and again.

Marcus already knows he loves the way Dan kisses. In some ways it's hard to believe it was just the evening before they'd done this for the first time when he feels like he's already known Dan somehow for much, much longer than that, but he doesn't want to rush anything. His thumb smooths along the line of Dan's jaw before his hand glides along the side of his neck, then down to rest against the front of his chest. With his hand there, he can feel Dan's heart beating, the steady thumping behind his breastbone.

He feels so familiar. Marcus has no idea how that can possibly be, but he does, and it's not a feeling he's going to waste.

They haven't even made it beyond the door, but Marcus is in no rush to go anywhere. His fingers curl under briefly, holding onto the material of Dan's shirt before they relax again and he presses a shorter, softer kiss against his lower lip before going in for another, deeper one.

Dan pauses then, warmth seeping into his chest in the shape of Marcus's hand, and he finds himself nodding. "It's like the strangest deja vu, isn't it," he murmurs. "I've know for a long time there were other worlds. I've known that people move onto to different places, but I didn't think-- maybe that's part of us, we've done this before or we'll do this again, or it's happening somewhere else too."

The philosophy doesn't throw him off his game; not when he's got all of this warmth anchoring him, the shine actually feeling like something beautiful for once.

"I--" He catches each kiss, both of his lips catching the bow of Marcus's upper, and presses their foreheads together. "I'd like to sit down. I'd like a little of your weight on me."

Even before Darrow, that wouldn't have been such a hard thing for Marcus to believe, the idea of there being other worlds, but ever since having met Verity and hearing all the stories she had to tell about things he'd done and ways he'd helped her family -- stories he still doesn't remember having happened -- he doesn't doubt it for a second. Maybe out there is some world where he and Dan find each other in a different way. What he cares about most is that they've found each other here.

He's nodding carefully, keeping his forehead pressed to Dan's as he does, then lets both his hands fall to Dan's hips. Taking one step forward, he nudges Dan back gently from the door, then has to finally look up, if only to make sure he's not going to walk them into anything.

Finally, stealing one more kiss, he pulls away more completely and grins. "Come on," he says, walking toward the couch. "Before I trip over my own damn feet trying to get us there."

That Marcus can treat him so gently, so carefully, is a source of amazement to Dan, and it turns him into absolute putty as he follows Marcus along to the couch.

"I'd catch you," Dan says easily, and once he's on the couch, he's reaching up for Marcus, pulling him down so he's close-- very close, overlapping, able to press Dan back into the corner of the couch.

He wants to be this close; he wants to be closer.

If it weren't for how mind-blowing each little step has been, he might push for faster.

Three words. That's all it takes for Marcus to feel as if Dan has pulled open something inside of him, something vulnerable that he's kept well hidden for a very long time. For his entire life, no one has ever really taken care of him, certainly not his parents, certainly not the Church, and to have it offered so casually now nearly stops his breath.

It feels like too much to say, especially on a first date, so rather than replying verbally, Marcus just sinks onto the couch with Dan. He braces one hand on the arm of the couch, but then rests his weight against Dan, along his side, half on top of him.

This is different than the nights they'd spent in his bed. This has intention and he grins a little, a shy expression, before he presses in for another kiss.

An emotional reaction like that doesn't go unnoticed, but it doesn't frighten Dan, or make him want to back off in the slightest. He understands; there hasn't been anyone to take care of him since the Overlook.

That it seems so possible now is staggering.

He answer it all with a soft sigh, like the relief of an itch scratched, as Marcus settles next to him, leans against him. The fleeting image of those nights spent wrapped around each other only reinforce how much he wants that again, only with this too. His mouth opens up under Marcus's, and he lets himself go into the kiss like he's been wanting.

It's not that he's been waiting for this all night, he loves spending time with Dan even without getting to hold his hand or kiss him, but Marcus has to admit there's a deep tremor of anticipation that shivers through him when they kiss again. Dan's mouth is soft and warm and Marcus explores curiously with the tip of his tongue at first, not hesitant, but slow. Enjoying the experience.

His heart is thundering. His fingertips are tingling. He sucks gently at Dan's lower lip and another shiver ripples down his spine.

This could easily get out of hand, but Marcus takes every moment as a slow exploration, learning things about Dan and the way he moves. The way he tastes. Even the way he breathes.

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