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Post by Markise Sterling on Nov 25, 2008 20:26:13 GMT -5
Markise needed to get away. He needed just a bit of space from Ariel, just for a while. He was having second thoughts about everything, and second thoughts on his second thoughts, until he was so confused that he couldn't stand to think anymore. He knew that Ariel could fix that in a matter of moments, have him floating, melting, but was that it? What was he to Ariel but an easy lay?
He couldn't do it anymore, not after everything that had happened at the club. He knew Ariel wanted him, but just wanting wasn't enough. And with the club, they could both find someone new, someone who would make them happy.
Markise must have wandered the same corridor for half an hour, just thinking about things and trying not to. What he needed was someplace he could relax. He glanced aside as something caught his eye. He could have sworn there hadn't been a door there before. Was this the room that Ariel had talked about? His study room?
Markise didn't want to think of Ariel at the moment, but where else could he relax completely than in a room with a disappearing door? He pulled the handle and slipped in with only the briefest of glances down the empty corridor.
Markise nearly cried at seeing the place. It was his bedroom back home, small and cramped, but so filled with his things that he didn't really care. There was his sewing machine beside the dresser, the top of which was the only clear spot in the room. It was where he measured and cut, and it had a mirror over it that he used as a vanity. Markise stretched out his arms and did a twirl before collapsing back onto his bed.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Nov 25, 2008 20:32:07 GMT -5
Dare hadn't been in the Room of Requirement for ages, not since the morning of that day he and Michael had moved to Hogsmeade. He figured that by now people had stopped gawking and trying to catch them there, and he thought that maybe confronting the place might remove some of the awkwardness. It had worked with his guitar, in a way. He didn't really bother thinking in specifics as he walked past. He just wanted to relax, he wanted someplace he could find a measure of peace.
Dare had never been to New York, had never seen Markise's bedroom, and so he didn't recognize it immediately. His eyes first lit on the walls, the strangely bare dresser, and that sewing machine. He looked at everything hanging or laying on something, and as he absently headed for the bed, he looked down at that, too. Dare's brows rose slightly at seeing Markise, then his eyes did another quick sweep of the room, putting together what he saw with what he knew. "Is this yours?" he asked.
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Post by Markise Sterling on Nov 25, 2008 20:35:40 GMT -5
Markise had blinked in surprise when Dare walked through the door. What was going on here? He'd have liked to think that he was in a dream room, and that everything, including Dare, was an illusion. But the Dare that still walked into his dreams never spoke, or if he did, Markise could never make out the words.
Markise pushed to sit, uncomfortable lying there with Dare standing over him. Dare was taken, he told himself. He loved Michael. Markise nodded, then patted the other side of the bed in invitation. "I swear it's my bedroom," he mused. "Do you know what's going on?" Maybe he was dreaming. If he was, it was incredibly vivid.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Nov 25, 2008 20:40:21 GMT -5
Dare eyed that spot on the bed, hesitating before moving to sit. They'd always done this at his house, just laid back on the bed and talked, and for those two strange months, kissed. But that had been his room, not Markise's. Dare lay back, stretching out as much as he could, his feet pressed to the foot board.
"This is the Room of Requirement," Dare said, turning his head to look at Markise. "If you wander around outside wishing for something, the Room provides." Dare tucked his hands under the back of his head and looked up at the ceiling. "Me and Michael used to hang out here. Well, not in your bedroom, obviously, but... here." And it had been amazing, more often than not. They'd shared their first kiss here.
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Post by Markise Sterling on Nov 25, 2008 20:44:34 GMT -5
Me and Michael. That stung more than Markise would have admitted. For everything he'd put into being with Ariel, he still loved Dare, still secretly wanted him. But that was something he needed to hide almost as much as his sexuality. He didn't want to lose Dare's friendship, didn't want to lose the dream.
"I just wanted to relax," Markise said. "If you'd come in fifteen minutes later, I'd have been over there, sewing." Markise finally lay down beside Dare, stretching out and gesturing over toward the sewing machine. "I don't know what good it would have done, since this is apparently an imaginary room, but I'd have had fun." Something he was in desperate need of lately.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Nov 25, 2008 20:49:05 GMT -5
Dare smiled and looked aside at Markise. It was still so strange seeing him blond. Markise had been dying his hair since third year. On a streak of impulse, Dare took Markise's hand. He didn't stroke the soft skin, didn't thread his fingers against it, but brought it into his sight to look.
"Michael loves hands," he said idly. "Everything about them, the way they move, the way they feel." The way they taste. "I'd never looked at them the way I do now, and it's interesting, you know?" He shook his head lightly against the pillow. "No, you probably don't."
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Post by Markise Sterling on Nov 25, 2008 20:54:27 GMT -5
Markise's breath had caught at the feel of Dare's hand. His heart stopped, and it was all he could do to keep from making some noise of confused pleasure. He almost didn't hear Dare mention Michael again. Almost. Some part of him was glad for it, glad that Dare didn't feel the way he did, so that at least one of them could keep control. Even the brief, flickering thought of Ariel through his mind wasn't enough to stop the sudden rush of thoughts and feelings this one touch gave him.
"My hands are my life," he heard himself murmuring. It was true. Without his hands, he couldn't hold a wand, couldn't measure and cut and sew. They were his present and future. And Dare had one light against his own strong hand.
Markise was suddenly highly aware of his hands, both of them. They were silky soft, moisturized thoroughly. His nails were clipped short, all buffed smooth. What did Dare think of his hands? He wouldn't think they were too feminine, not when he liked girls, too. Markise was reduced to watching, and wondering what would happen next.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Nov 25, 2008 20:58:51 GMT -5
My hands are my life. It was poetic in a way, and true for him as well. Without his hands, he couldn't draw or paint, couldn't run his fingers through Michael's hair. He let the fingers of his free hand slide over the back of Markise's now. His skin was unbelievably smooth, his fingers long and slender. Artists' fingers. Dare knew that Markise worked with his hands. He turned Markise's hand palm up and traced the skin there too, bringing his fingertips against Markise's and feeling just the slightest calluses there. It was strange with the rest of that near-silk. Dare sighed and released Markise's hand. "I know how that is," he said at last. He didn't think he needed to explain.
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Post by Markise Sterling on Nov 25, 2008 21:02:16 GMT -5
Markise's body had been on high alert the entire time Dare was touching him. He'd been breathless, waiting for Dare to do something that never happened. Never could happen, he reminded himself. He let out a heavy sigh as he brought his hand back, curling it into itself as he rested it on his stomach.
Markise looked aside at Dare, wondering what he was thinking. Was he thinking about Michael again? Was he thinking about his hands? But no, Dare looked as detached as ever, thoughtfully inspecting the ceiling over the bed. He couldn't think of a thing to say.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Nov 25, 2008 21:04:59 GMT -5
Dare hardly noticed the silence, he was so lost in thought. His mind wandered, and when it returned to Markise, he turned his head slightly to look at him. "How are things going with that Ariel Logan guy?" he asked. Markise hadn't been entirely sure the last time they'd spoken. He'd said something about thinking they were finally getting somewhere. Dare couldn't help thinking back on Kwami. Markise hadn't even told him they were dating until after they'd broken up. He didn't want that to happen again, didn't want Markise to be alone.
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Post by Markise Sterling on Nov 25, 2008 21:30:21 GMT -5
Markise had made the epic mistake of looking aside at Dare, and his icy blue gaze was trapped in that mossy green. Dare was looking too intently back at him for him to try lying. He just couldn't do it. Markise licked his lips, diverting his gaze to the pillow beneath Dare's head. "I'm not sure," he said honestly. His gaze flickered back up to Dare's and stopped there again.
"I think he just wants me for..." Markise inhaled a sharp breath. "A makeout buddy," he finished. It wasn't the half of it, but it was all he could bear to tell Dare. "We went out to that club, and we went our separate ways. He came back for me and everything, but he wasn't going to find his way back to Diagon Alley otherwise."
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Nov 25, 2008 21:34:12 GMT -5
Despite Markise's quick save, Dare caught the implication, and he inhaled quickly as he brought his gaze back to the ceiling. He'd never thought of Markise like that before, or rather, had never thought of Markise doing that before. It was a little hard to combine their friendship with the idea of Markise as being sexual. For all the times they'd kissed, it had been calm and pleasurable, not at all sexual, really.
"What do you want from him?" he asked at last. Dare looked back at Markise, refusing to let this make their friendship uncomfortable. It was going to happen for Markise sooner or later, but somehow he'd thought that it would be later. Much later.
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Post by Markise Sterling on Nov 25, 2008 21:57:07 GMT -5
Markise couldn't look back up at Dare, though he licked his lips again. "I... I don't know," he admitted. "I have to think." Dare would know what he meant, and wouldn't interrupt. What did he want from Ariel? "I guess I want the same thing." It was hard to think of. He wanted Ariel to be perfect for him, wanted to be as close to him as he'd been to Dare. But Ariel wasn't, and Markise didn't know if he could be.
Markise lifted his gaze back to Dare's. "I just... want him, and when I'm with him..." He sighed heavily. "I want to kiss him, and I want to strangle him. I want to scream at him, and then I just want... I just want him to hold me." And Ariel would hold him, until the next time they were ready.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Nov 25, 2008 22:02:07 GMT -5
"Amber," Dare said, so softly that it was nearly a whisper. But that sounded exactly like her. They fought, but the eye of the storm was so good. He'd thought he couldn't want anyone as much as he'd wanted her. And then he'd found Michael, and it had all evolved into a mind-blowing need to be with him.
"I don't want that to happen to you," Dare said. "I know, he's not Kwami, and he's not Amber either, but that doesn't mean it's any better for you. If all you two want is... that, and nothing else, then it's not worth it. The physical stuff is... made better when you're connected." He wanted Michael so much, whether they were together or not.
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Post by Markise Sterling on Nov 25, 2008 22:11:42 GMT -5
Markise could almost see the thoughts in Dare's mind. Better when you're connected. He couldn't help comparing his fiery kisses with Ariel to the slow pleasure of Dare's, and though it pained him, he knew it was true. Ariel left him physically satisfied, so deeply that he felt boneless with relaxation, but Dare had left him floating, feeling good about himself. Markise only just kept his gaze from dropping to Dare's lips.
"I don't want him to hurt me," Markise confessed, dropping his gaze again. Ariel had already hurt him several times, and he still did, periodically. When he wanted Markise, he wanted him desperately, and when he didn't, Markise was dismissed. He was terrified that Ariel was only with him until he graduated or found another... f~ buddy. "I feel like such a whore," he said softly. Damn his allergies.
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