making his Mark. (roughwithlove) wrote in stageleft_rpg,
making his Mark.
roughwithlove
stageleft_rpg

Tyler and Mark: Mt. Everest

Who: Tyler and Mark
Where: their apartment
When: recently

Tyler would be mortified if he could see himself right now: dead asleep with one arm wrapped snugly around Mark's waist, his dark hair skewed at cowlicked angles and mixed with the other boy's, his lips parted gently and just a breath away from Mark's neck. Tyler is snuffling quietly in his sleep, out like a light and blissfully unaware.

Mark is the first of the two to awaken. It starts as a little jerk, just enough to jolt him awake. Just as he's about to settle back down into sleep, though, he notices a numbing sort of pain coming from his arm. He turns his head and sees nothing but dark spikes, and when he blinks his eyes he realizes it's actually Tyler, or rather, his hair. Mark groans, trying to shift away but he finds he can't get very far-- Tyler's laying right on his arm. He groans. "Fuck.. fucker. No more peanut butter for you.."

"Nnnnnfuck you," Tyler mumbles, more instinct than anything else, just barely beginning to surface to waking. He shifts slightly, sighs, and prepares to slip back to sleep.

Mark's starting to feel Tyler's full weight, now that he's growing more and more awake. "Asshole-- gerroff.." He attempts to push Tyler away with his other hand, and only then notices the extra arm draped over his waist. He blinks down at it, slightly mesmerized.

"'M'sleeping," Tyler groans, turning his head against the sunlight he's beginning to realize and presses against Mark's neck. "Just fucking...sleep already. Fuck." His arm pulls Mark marginally closer as Tyler curls up, trying to hold onto the last shreds of sleep.

Mark sighs to himself, his body falling limp against the mattress. He contemplates his options. It's the weekend, meaning he really should take advantage and sleep in, but at the same time he's fairly sure he's starting to lose all circulation in his arm. But he likes this. And only in his mind would he ever admit it, but it's nice.. waking up like this. Discovering your Something Boyfriend is a cuddler. Though that doesn't mean he won't get a rib in. "Brat."

Tyler frowns a little childishly. "Fuck you," he says, a touch annoyed at being woken up. He bites at Mark's shoulder as punishment, and then quite suddenly realizes how close he'd pulled Mark during the night. Quickly Tyler tries to save face by moving away. His side of the bed is cold.

Mark frowns at Tyler's back. His arm is slowly waking up too, but he finds he no longer cares about it as much as he thought he had. He contemplates turning over to Tyler's side of the bed, but realizes that'd only give the other boy ammo against him. He makes a faint noise then, turning over so he's just as the middle. He's got his face buried against a pillow, and he waits quietly to see if Tyler will do anything.

It takes a moment, but Tyler rolls over onto his back, face tipped to the side. He blinks at Mark in sarcastic silence for a moment. "What're you looking at?" he asks, although it lacks it's typical bite, replaced by a wary note.

Mark glares at Tyler with just one eye, the other pressed tight to the pillow. A moment passes, though, and then he's suddenly grinning. "You cuddled," he teases in sing-song, as if he hadn't just been enjoying it a moment ago.

"You fucking wish," Tyler denies immediately. "God, you're such a girl." He scowls, completely caught. Tyler rolls his eyes and huffs, as if that would really add to his defense.

"Yoooou cuddled," Mark continues to sing, positively delighted. Tyler's grumpy response is practically icing on the cake. A little braver now, Mark shifts closer, draping his arm around Tyler's waist to further mock him. "Just like this, awwww..."

Tyler wrinkles his nose still. "You were dreaming. I don't fucking cuddle. Not you, not anyone. Fuck you." He makes a great show of not looking at Mark at all.

Which only prompts Mark to make obnoxious kissy faces at Tyler, shifting even closer still. He drapes a leg over Tyler's thighs, as confident as he is bold now. "You were cuddling and I bet you liked it."

"You have fucking terrible fucking morning breath," Tyler answers with, glaring even as he lets an arm move over Mark's body in return. "You're just lucky I didn't fucking leave in the morning, alright?" Gotta keep up that reputation.

Mark rolls his eyes. "To go where?" he asks. "The living room? You fucking live here, moron."

"Yeah, you fucking freeloader," Tyler snorts. "Get the fuck out of my house." Not that he means it, which is still a bit of a scary thought.

"I pay half the rent, shut the fuck up," Mark grumbles, pointedly ignoring the few instances in which he'd actually been a bit late with them. He turns his face in a bit, hiding against Tyler's chest.

"Yeah, fuck you," Tyler snaps. He has the sudden impulse to press his face against Mark's hair, but that is simply not something Tyler Capulet can do. Instead he moves subtly to press a decisive, dare-you-to-disagree kiss at the edge of Mark's jaw.

The kiss prompts a smile on Mark's lips, and his face turns towards Tyler's without even thinking about it. He brushes his lips over Tyler's on a soft, sweet kiss.

It startles Tyler, in all honesty, the way it always does when he notices how comfortable this has become. Just a little jolt down his spine at the unexpectedness of the whole thing. It doesn't keep Tyler from returning the kiss, of course, gently pressing.

Mark smiles a little more when Tyler returns the kiss. A few more kisses shared, then Mark's pulling away with a playful wrinkle of his nose. "Your morning breath is terrible." Then he rolls away, turning back to his side of the bed, his back to the other.

"Yeah, good morning to you too," Tyler mumbles, reaching for the other boy again. "God damn, you're such a fucking tease."

Mark laughs at that, allowing Tyler to pull him in, rolling so they're face to face again. He presses another kiss to Tyler's lips, letting that one linger longer than the others.

It's a pleasant sort of surprise this time, the jolt to his stomach a different kind of shock. Tyler's eyes shut automatically, and stay that way when he takes a moment to murmur again, "Good morning," quietly before kissing Mark again.

"'Morning," Mark returns into the kiss, lips spreading into a soft, lazy smile. His hands lift to tangle his fingers in Tyler's mussed-up hair, idly combing through the strands in an attempt to calm them down. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Tyler confesses, the smile echoing on his lips as well. "Comfortable. Warm." His hands trace an affectionate pattern in the small of Mark's back.

"Mm," Mark hums in reply. He waits a beat. "I slept horribly. Dreamt I was in the Vietnam war and they had to amputate my arm right off, no warning or anything, then I wake up to find--worse!--some hippo crushing it."

"You're an asshole," Tyler informs him, but he's laughing through it, light and easy for once. "Fuck you, you know you liked it. You're a girl like that."

"Not even girls like to get their arms crushed, Tyler," Mark tells him dryly. He starts to ply with the other boy's hair, idly twisting around some strands on a finger. "You sure you're as much of a stud as you say you are?"

"Dunno, ask your friends," he quips. "Got you to pull your head out of your ass for a while, didn't I?" The corners of Tyler's mouth turn up, an egotistical sort of smirk, he knows he's right.

"Didn't get to replace it yet, though, did you?" Mark returns, suddenly not as amused as he was.

"Now who's idea was that," Tyler answers dryly. His smirk settles into a line, watching Mark carefully.

Mark makes a fairly noncommittal noise, then casually leans back forward for a brief, plucking kiss. "It's your turn to do the laundry, by the way."

"Don't see why we can't hire a fucking maid," Tyler murmurs absently, before doggedly returning to the previous topic. "Do I even get a fucking reason why you're such a tease?"

"No," answers Mark without hesitation. He watches Tyler a little carefully. "You'll laugh," he murmurs, pouting a little childishly.

Tyler rolls his eyes. "Of course I'm going to laugh. You might as well just get it over with now." He shifts a bit closer, though, comforting and curious.

Mark glowers at him, lips pulled into a tight frown. He doesn't move away, though, contemplating actually telling the truth. At the last minute he sighs, letting his eyes slip shut. "Nothing," he murmurs, dull. "I'm just a frigid bitch."

"No, you're a goddamn liar," Tyler sighs. He shakes his head and rolls over onto his back. "I mean, you're a frigid bitch too, but what the fuck ever."

Mark turns on to his back too, frowning at the ceiling. He folds his arms over his stomach, sighing. He wants to tell Tyler, but at the same time he knows he can't-- the boy would only laugh at him, he's sure. He chews on his lip, wearing the soft skin there. "Hypothetically," he says rather suddenly. "Hypothetically. If I had let you fuck me during our first.. whatever," he mutters. "What do you think would have happened? With.. us, I mean."

"During our first...whatever?" Tyler winces. He'd lie if he thought it would be even marginally believable. "Uh. Fuck. I don't know?" It turns into a question without Tyler's permission at all. "Probably...probably...well fuck, we wouldn't be fucking living together." He knows he'd have just dropped Mark in a heartbeat, Tyler just doesn't want to say it out loud.

Mark scowls at the ceiling, even though he'd been expecting as much. "You forgot to say 'hypothetically'," he mutters, turning once more to scoot over to his side of the bed.

"Hypothetically," Tyler adds pedantically. "Listen, okay, fuck you, alright? Because yes I knew you were stupid as shit, but god damn I didn't think you were this fucking dumb, alright?" He almost wants to get up and storm from the room, but his limbs feel too tired to make the effort, so Tyler settles for cursing under his breath again and rolling onto his side, away from Mark.

Mark can feel the huge gap in between them, both literally and figuratively. He frowns at the wall closest to him, hands tucked under his head to pillow it. He doesn't know what Tyler's words were supposed to mean. The other boy basically said he'd have dumped him after the first fuck.

Tyler, meanwhile, is tugging at his hair without noticing, mussing it up even beyond typical bedhead. For a moment he considers leaving the silence be, pretending to be too mad for words, but the silent treatment has never been Tyler's MO. He sighs loudly, ever-suffering. "If I was going to fucking leave you, asshole, I'd have fucking done it by now, don't you think?"

Mark scowls at the wall, fingers clenching beneath his head. He wants to know how he's suddenly the loser in this. "I don't know maybe you're just waiting until you've made your conquest, then you'd go and, fuck I don't know, find your next fucking Everest."

Tyler growls in frustration and leans over to shove Mark's side to let out some of it. "God, you seriously are the fucking dumbest piece of shit fucking person I've ever fucking known. And I know a lot of fucking people. Fuck you." He pushes him again. "You know there's only one fucking Everest, right? It's not like there's three or four, jerkoff."

Mark's brain reels a bit, because he's fairly sure Tyler's trying to tell him something, but for whatever reason, he keeps missing it. He turns, leaning on an elbow so he can frown at the other boy. He doesn't know if they're still speaking hypothetically or not. "So.. what happens after you conquer your only Everest?"

"Nothing," Tyler snaps. "That's it. You're done. You've done everything. You fucking...fucking retire or something. Fuck. Sleep in on the weekends or some shit." He gives Mark one last shove and then rolls over again.

Mark glowers at Tyler's back. He doesn't know if that was the answer he'd been looking for at all. He decides to cut the metaphorical shit altogether. "What's going to happen after you fuck me, huh?" He looks down at the space between them, lips twisted in his frustration. "Don't fucking tell me I'm fucking stupid. I've lived with you for two fucking years, asshole, I fucking know the shit you do... So don't you dare tell me I'm being stupid."

Tyler turns around yet again and looks at Mark seriously. "You're being fucking stupid," he repeats, slowly as if to a child. "What the fuck do you think is going to happen? You think I'm just gonna fucking leave or something? You have the intelligence of a fucking flea." There's a pause as Tyler tugs at his hair and tries to think of the best way to explain himself. "It's like...fuck. If I was planning on fucking dumping you, why the fuck would I fucking wait this long to do it? It's not like you're putting out or anything."

Mark searches Tyler's face for a long while, trying to look for the laughter behind those words. He's not being stupid. He's being careful. He knows Tyler's reputation, and as much as he'd like to think he's something.. fuck, special, there's really no way of knowing, with Tyler. At least he doesn't seem to think so, anyway. He squints his eyes at Tyler. "Tell me you love me."

"What the fuck is that?" Tyler asks instead, frowning. "You're telling me to tell you I love you. Fuck, doesn't that miss the point? Aren't you just supposed to fucking say it and see if the other person says it back? What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"Fuck you, like we've been doing things the way they're 'supposed' to be done anyway." He scoots a little closer, growing a little more bold with Tyler's unease. "Tell me you love me."

"Fuck you." Tyler shrinks away marginally. "Why the fuck do I have to say it first?" And when Tyler says first, he means first ever. He doesn't even quite know if his tongue can form the words.

"Because I have the intelligence of a fucking flea," says Mark. He scoots even closer now, feeling as if he's just about to win something big. Somehow, Tyler's refusal to say the words only make the feeling behind them that much more real. They're an odd pair, these two. Mark gets closer enough to wrap his arm around Tyler's waist again, letting his face press in against the other boy's neck. "Tell me," he continues to goad, even though he knows Tyler won't really.

"It's not the same thing if you're fucking telling me to say it," he insists, still a little put out even as his nose presses against Mark's hair. "Fuck you. Even if I fucking...whatever...whatever. Even if I did, fuck if I'd say it. Don't be such a fucking girl." Tyler's mouth forms a kiss by Mark's ear.

Mark smiles against Tyler's skin. "I want candles," he murmurs, voice lilting like it's wont to whenever he's about to get particularly dramatic. "I want candles and dinner reservations and a bottle of the house' finest. A poem, maybe, or a few earnest words in declaration. Then you'll take me back home and I'll try not to laugh when you fumble with the keys because you're so anxious to just throw me on the bed and take all my clothes off."

"I'm a fucking Capulet," Tyler mumbles, laughing lowly against Mark's ear. "You fucking think I can't do that? Why the fuck do I have to do all the work, anyway? You'd fucking throw yourself at me if I did any of that shit."

Mark rolls his eyes. "That's the point." He leans back so Tyler can see his meaningful little look, just the teensiest bit shy.

"Ohhhh." Tyler nods a little. That look is a little bit startling, although not in an entirely unpleasant way. He leans forward to close the space between them, his lips catching Mark's softly, gently at first and then moving, deepening, until Tyler pulls away. "You're still a fucking tease, you know."

Mark nips at Tyler's bottom lip in retaliation. "Those are my terms and I'm not budging," he says. He's really mostly teasing, but he's curious to see how far Tyler would take it.

Tyler shrugs, momentarily more interested in kissing him again than disagreeing. "So what day," he asks between kisses, "Can I take you to dinner?"

"Uh uh," says Mark, tracing a finger down Tyler's chest. "You're supposed to surprise me."

He shivers, eyes already half shut. "God you're a fucking picky tease, too. How am I supposed to know it's worth the effort, anyway?"

"Of course I'm worth it," Mark scoffs, though there's an underlying fear there that he really isn't. Part of him half hopes Tyler doesn't go through with it, so Marl won't have to make a fool out of himself.

"Really," Tyler deadpans. "Got any references?" He asks the question before deciding he really doesn't want to know.

"That's a personal question," Mark frowns. "Do you want to fuck me or not? God, you should be fucking happy I'm helping you along."

Tyler narrows his eyes. "Tell me you're not a fucking virgin."

"Fuck you, I'm not," Mark snaps. "Asshole." He starts to turn in Tyler's arms, grumpily making his way back to his side of the bed.

Tyler scrambles after him defiantly. "Fine, fine, Jesus fucking Christ. I'm just saying. I lived with you for two fucking years, you know. Fine, you're a fucking stud or whatever the fuck you want." He rolls his eyes.

"Some people don't go around flaunting their conquests, thanks," Mark mutters almost bitterly. He's terrified, now, confident that he'll be a horrible experience for Tyler, that's he'll definitely decide he's had better. And probably twice.

"Yeah, and some people just don't have any," Tyler mumbles. "Jesus, it's just a fucking question. I'm sorry I asked, alright? Don't fucking pout or anything."

"Fuck you I'll pout all I want." He twists around so he can show Tyler his pout, but it's not quite as effective with the way his eyes are glaring so hard at him.

"Jesus fucking Christ, fine." Tyler rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. "Fine. Pout, don't pout, glare, be a fucking tease, whatever the fuck you want. Fine."

Mark sighs, not too sure if that was the reaction he'd been looking for. He scoots closer to Tyler again and rests his cheek against the boy's shoulder, closing his eyes. "Shut up," is all he can say.

"Yeah, fuck you," Tyler sighs, moving closer to the warmth that Mark radiates. The boy is like a magnet, Tyler can't help it. He lets his eyes close as well and mumbles something about Mt. Everest into another peaceful sigh.
Tags: mercutio, tybalt
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