Forgive (Dare/Markise)

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Dare was going insane. He was sick of everything; sick of the tense silence at home, sick of Michael's constant misery, sick of trying to convince his husband that he wasn't fat, that he hadn't married him for his body. He was sick of the intrusion of that thing that had become Michael's world. He was sick of being alone.

There was Keith, but Keith had his own life, and a boyfriend. Keith was great, he was, but this was beyond what he thought they could talk about. Yes, they'd talked about sex, they'd discussed their physical relationships with their respective significant others, in however limited a fashion, but Markise knew his past, knew him so many years ago when he'd liked himself, before this crippling hatred of himself had come into his life. He only hoped that some part of Markise could still be there for him, the way he hadn't been when Markise had needed him most. After all that talk with Keith, Dare hoped he hadn't lost Markise as thoroughly as he'd believed.

[Markise Sterling]

Markise heard the bells at the door and found a stopping point quickly. With summer teasing in the air, the shop had been busy—truly busy—for the first time he could remember. Everyone wanted summer clothes, and the signs in the windows—the clearances, the Closing, 30th June—were drawing not only students, but parents looking to save a few Galleons on next year's school robes.

He put on his best smile and fluffed his pale lavender curls, then stood and swept into the shop, his eyes scanning toward the door. They stopped at the sight of the face there, above all the racks, and framed by the glow from the windows. His breath caught.

Dare.

It was so strange seeing him there, the same as he'd been for years. Taller, maybe, but with that same lost look in his eyes. It was so easy to ignore him in the corridors, to keep his gaze away from the staff table in the Great Hall, that he'd been able to forget, at least on the surface, and mentally declare him Professor Blackwood-Hardt

But this was no distracted professor. This was Dare.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Dare's breath had caught too, and he stood for some moments, breathing too heavily from stress and insecurity, and thinking things he'd forbidden himself to think for nearly two years, since that night outside his partnership reception. He'd never told Michael the full story, and he'd never gotten close to Markise again, and it had all just festered, breeding what-ifs in his mind.

What if Markise had told him during those months they'd been unofficially together?

What if he'd told Markise what happened to his mother fourth year?

What if Markise had come a few months sooner?

What if?

It was painful to think about, and he told himself he should say something, should try to explain himself, or apologize, or any number of things. All he could think, though, was to notice things he hadn't before, that were so much clearer now in his desperation. Markise seemed to look into him instead of at him. Really? Was that all he'd admit he noticed? Not how well-dressed Markise was, or how well his clothes clung in all the right places? Not the sultry look in his eyes that seemed a permanent fixture? Not those sharply-bowed lips, or the memory of the taste of his gum?

If so, he was lying to himself, and even he didn't believe it.

[Markise Sterling]

Something felt different, and it gave Markise pause, the strained silence stretching on as he tried to place the feel. He knew it, and the nape of his neck pricked with gooseflesh that shivered down his spine. What was it? It was strange, so strange, but—

Dare was aware of him. That was it. He'd felt it so many countless times, but never from Dare, who he'd given up on long ago, or so he told himself. Dare was taken. He was taken, and Dare had turned him down so thoroughly that they'd lost their friendship in the lengthy proving of it.

"Why are you here?" he asked softly. Why are you affecting me like this, when you shouldn't?

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"I don't know," Dare answered, choking softly on the lie. He tried to look away from Markise, but he needed whatever connection he could get, and if this was it before he was turned away, then this was what he'd take.

"I just... I guess I miss who I was." His gaze skirted out into the room.

[Markise Sterling]

Markise pulled a sharp breath, and nearly let it out as a sob at the sudden swelling of his throat, the damp that threatened in his eyes.

I miss who I was.

Markise looked away now, then back over his shoulder, where the Wizard's Wireless bleated out a familiar song about some city he'd never been to. Ariel wasn't here. Not that he'd have pushed Dare away if he was, but Markise was suddenly washed with relief that it was just the two of them here, relief that still couldn't make it easier to breathe. He looked back at Dare.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Dare didn't know, wasn't sure, despite the undeniable feeling that he was here for a reason, that he was in the right place now and everything would work itself out. He took one slow breath, then another, before turning his gaze on Markise and trying to speak, to make sense of something in words.

"I don't like who I turned into," he said. He lifted his foot to move, but stopped, despite the forward lean of his body, the desire to narrow the space between them. "I'm lonely," he told Markise. "Michael... he's distracted, and I swear, Markise, you're the best friend I've ever had, whatever crap I've said since I've been here."

[Markise Sterling]

"No, Dare," Markise breathed, stepping forward slightly, raising a hand as though he had any right to stop this. It was his fault, his fault that Dare could even have thoughts like this, his fault that it had all been too little, to late by over a year. It was his fault as much as Dare's that there had been no owls between them those months apart, and nobody's fault that neither of them had predicted what would happen.

"Dare, just... just... shhh, don't say anything!" He felt panicked now, cornered, and he regretted so badly what he'd unloaded on Dare when he should have been celebrating his new partnership.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

"I have to," Dare argued softly. "I... I miss you, and we... we've got to be honest—I've got to be honest, and I've gotta stop holding things back because someone else doesn't want to hear it. I'm sorry, I just... I'm sick of living for someone else and feeling guilty any time I do something for myself. Do you know how that feels? Can you understand?"

He shifted on his feet, and his left hand rose, sweeping through his hair, then rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. "I've made some sh~ choices trying to make other people happy," he said, shaking his head so that his hair danced in front of his face.. "I'm tired of it."

[Markise Sterling]

Markise took a slow breath, trying to keep himself calm when he was anything but. The moment had passed, and Dare had moved on, and he could breathe, and maybe they could talk now, maybe they could keep some comfortable distance between them.

But did he want distance? He didn't know, and it was confusing all of a sudden, faced with a situation he'd dreamed of, one that had gone farther, yes, but couldn't this go there? Dare looked so vulnerable, and that wicked part of him that never quite slept wanted to ask. Where's your partner, Dare? What did he do, and how can I make it all better? He was a good person though, and he loved Dare. Dare would hate himself, and he shouldn't be thinking this in the first place.

"Do you need to talk?" He asked, feeling helpless somehow. He didn't know Dare anymore, did he? I miss who I was. Markise knew that much. He knew who Dare had been since he was eleven. "I'll talk to you if you want, I don't mind. I'll close the shop," he offered.

[Dare Blackwood-Hardt]

Dare felt a wash of relief, and though his desperation sharpened, for the moment it was bearable. He shifted forward again, wanting to move, but unable to let himself when he knew they'd be seen. "Can we go somewhere to be alone?" he asked. Just them, just the two of them like they used to be. All the others who'd spent so much time with them, that he'd cared so much for, were forgotten at the memory of all those times that it had been just them, lying somewhere and talking about nothing and everything, like he and Michael used to. Like he and Markise used to.

"Please."

[Markise Sterling]

Markise flushed, and though his fingers reached for a stray curl, they didn't toy with it, didn't twirl it coyly around his finger. They tugged, pulling his hair straight, then barely let it go before repeating the process. "Yes," he whispered. "Of course." Of course they could talk, of course they could be alone. Markise glanced bacck into his work room, finding the nearest clock and trying to think how long they had before Ariel got home. They had time to talk, they did, but there was so much more, he could feel it, and it didn't feel right to do it here.

"I'll close the shop," he repeated. "I can't go to London," he said, "We shouldn't be seen together, but... I can leave a note for Ariel." Yes, he'd leave a note on the door connecting the shop to his workroom and the workroom to the upstairs. He moved at last and crossed to the counter, where he kept scraps of parchment and a quill for notes. "I'll just be a minute."

Ariel

closed early to help a friend. will be home later, promise.

love, Markise

He looked at his note a moment longer, but yes, he loved Ariel, he knew he did, and Ariel was willing to give up everything for him, no matter the compromise they'd found. He hated that he had to remind himself of that. He shut off the Wizard's Wireless and stuck up the note, and buoyed on nerves, left, side-by-side with someone he hadn't spoken to in a year.

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