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When Markus walks up to his room, he doesn't go in just yet. He leans in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
"What an awful guest."
Simon turns around to look who it is, then smiles with a sigh.
"What are you doing not partying?"
Simon carefully comes in, pushing the balcony curtains out of the way. He grabs a chair near Markus' bed, and smiles shyly at him.
The party boy doesn't drop it just yet, "What are you doing all the way over here?"
So the older boy gives, "I like watching people. Especially like this..." he leans his head towards the balcony, from which, as if to prove a point, distant yelling can be heard, "But I do it from afar. So I don't seem lonely. Or a freak."
Some shouts, however, come from inside, and Markus uses the opportunity to close the bedroom door behind him.
"Are you?" he asks, circling the bed, dragging his fingers across it like a prospect.
"Hm?"
He sits on the edge of the bed, near Simon. Almost caging him. Leaning back on his hands, he exhales a deep, slow breath, "Lonely?"
"A freak?" he continues, gripping sheets underneath his fingertips.
Simon stares at those fingers for a moment before dragging his focus towards Markus' eyes. He looks at him for another heated moment, smirks, stands up, and leans over the party boy. Then leisurely takes off for the door.
"Wh- Where're you going?"
Resting his hand on the door frame, mischievous smile painting his lips, he says, "There's a party to attend to," before vanishing into the darkness.
Markus, disorganized, lies back with a puff, "So it's gonna be like that, is it?" and bites his lip, trying not to smile.
***
Markus spots Simon in a crowd of dancing people and circles him like a predator. Simon doesn't even seem to tense as Markus gets all close and personal behind him, speaking in his ear:
"You know, you never said 'No.'"
In fact, Markus can see how Simon can't keep his smile off.
"I'm not lonely."
"There were two questions." They talk, swaying to the music.
"I choose not to answer."
Simon turns, and pretends to dance with Markus, but pushes him lightly to try and leave. Markus captures him before he can, softly grabbing his waist.
"Come on. Tell me. What do you like?"
Simon gives in and grins at him. Once he hooks his hands around Markus' neck, they start grinding dancing like most of the couples on the dance floor - all up in each other's space, and/or business.
Markus then lifts Simon's hands above his head, joining them at the wrists.
"Restriction?"
Simon smiles silently, and sways with him before twirling Markus and taking off for the snacks table.
Markus follows suit, a huge grin on his face that he just can't fight. This game they're playing is much more fun than any party he's been to.
Simon pours something in a cup for himself and turns around towards Markus. Of course he followed. The slightly panting blond brings up the cup to his smiling mouth, but Markus almost knocks the drink out his hand, blocking the top. 🠘isn't that what Simon's doing lmao
"Denial?"
Simon looks down and finally finds a reason to frown when he sees that some of the liquid has spilled on his shirt.
Markus pulls out a serviette, (adorable), shakes it out, and drags it across Simon's eyes.
"Blindfolds?"
Then he dries the wet spot on Simon's chest. And lingers. When their eyes meet, they're twinkling, and both of them are smiling pointedly. But Simon flees again.
Markus can only see the back of the blond's head as he dissolves in the crowd. Before he's gone completely, though, he turns back and gives Markus an irresistible smile. He has to steady himself on the table after that. He stands there, head in the clouds, thoughts of golden-haired angels with a soft voice and piercing blue eyes, hands doing things that could never be called 'angelic'... Until he's brought back to reality by someone asking if he's alright. He must've been standing there, dopey smile on his face, not moving, for quite some time. After a while of making excuses and chatting with his friends, he spots the blond in his sight.
Simon, in the meantime, is dancing and having fun, clearly tipsier than before. But the smile he has now doesn't quite reach his eyes.
Markus once more shoots up from behind and goes up to his ear, so the people and the music don't drown him out.
"Punch?"
When Simon looks back, he's met with Markus holding two cups of pink liquid. Simon sighs and pushes the younger's hand to the side, way more tenderly than it should have been.
"Too strong..?" he hollers, trying to catch up while not spilling the drinks in hand. "Choking?" he pants, desperate not to lose the blond in the crowd again.
Simon reaches the table and tries to look exasperated at Markus following him, yet fails miserably with a massive grin. Once Markus' hands are free, one rests on his hip, the other on the table, fingers drumming. He'd look so hot as a detective, Simon thinks, looking at that contemplative expression. Simon starts moving closer to Markus. Pushing him so his back collides with the table. Pinning him. He leans into him, squeezing a strong, promising bicep.
Markus feels dizzy from the scent of the man's cologne, and the breath on his neck peppers it with goosebumps. His grip tightens on the tablecloth.
Simon backs up with a bottle in hand. He has a smug smirk on his face, but doesn't even look at Markus. He does only after uncapping the bottle. It looks like vodka.
"I," he starts, piercing Markus with his gaze, "like things that are strong, and make me lose control..." then downs some of the liquor straight from the bottle.
Markus stares in awe, because not only that, some of it dribbles down his chin and Simon wipes it with his finger & sucks the digit into his mouth. All while staring Markus down like a challenge.
He puts the bottle down, and brushes past Markus, going towards the front door. He puts that dang, soft, beautiful, sinful hand on the doorway again, gives a look , then disappears inside.
When Markus gets to his bedroom, the door is wide open, and Simon is nowhere to be seen. The door slams behind him, and Simon's hands & mouth are all over him.
"Took you long enough. Forgot where your own bedroom is?"
"I just didn't particularly know where to go," he says, spinning Simon & extending his arm, ready to unlock the door, "I have yet to ask if you like being watched."
Simon just gives the smile he's been giving all night, and brings that arm back & around, putting it on the small of his back.
Markus slides it downwards, however, and checks the give on Simon's pants. Damn belts. He manages to get one finger below the belt, and feels Simon shiver.
"I guess I don't have to keep my hands off the artwork since you're not so hot on exhibitions?"
"Maybe I'm a history museums guy..."
Markus pulls back, puzzled. He must've missed an implication there. He scans the smiling beauty in front of him, looking for clues. He gets distracted.
"That's a nice shirt."
"I liked it too...before it had your stains on it," he yanks Markus closer, "Good thing it was 40% off."
"You know, I'd like it a 100% off." Simon rolls his eyes at that. "And maybe with a few more of 'my stains' on it."
Simon huffs and tilts his head back, giving Markus room to bite at his neck. The blond's grin turns into a sly smile as he says, "It makes sense you like this shirt. I can totally see you pulling it off."
Their kisses become more heated with intent, and they stumble a little closer towards the bed. Markus pulls Simon's shirt off.
"What," he says between Simon's kisses, "you don't like my shirt?"
With all of his restraint, Simon pushes Markus by the shoulders to examine him:
"Mmm, no," he considers, "I think I'd like to see you in your birthday suit."
Simon takes off Markus' shirt while kissing, but when he tries to unbuckle Markus' belt, his hands are swatted away. Markus goes for Simon's belt first. When the younger tries pushing him towards the bed, he's met with resistance - Simon toes off his shoes instead.
"Now you can sweep me off my feet."
"Oh? Is that your way of saying you're ready to be banged? The way you demonstrated by almost breaking my door?" he says, steering Simon for the bed.
Simon stops him and gives him an impatient look. He pushes the clueless Markus back on his tiptoes and whispers in his ear: "Throw me, you idiot."
Markus looks into Simon's purposeful eyes, and instantly gets the memo. He tosses Simon on the bed, rolls him over to his back, pulls him closer by his thighs, manhandles his limbs into position he likes, controls and manipulates him like he weighs nothing, and sees Simon's eyes(, not only his body,) roll back.
Simon looks up at Markus, mussed hair, eyes glazed over, panting, and with a wicked smile says:
"Ruin me."