Tw: Suggestive, making out, drinking, bad(?) tipsy decisions, they get cockblocked by Yuki #webelieveinservicetopmirelo, not proof read
Mirelo is red - Marcellus is blue - Yuki is pink
Marcellus slowly tapped the door in desperation. Their mind was fogged and their head pounded against their skull. The only person that wouldn't activate the ticking time bomb in their mind right now, was their shopkeeper. They continued their knocking, it was about 30 minutes before he opened. But they prayed he'd be a good soul enough to let them in.
After a couple minutes the wooden door swung open causing Marcellus to stumble forward a bit into the building.
“Uh, can I help you, Marcellus?” Mirelo’s confused tone barely registered through Marcellus’ ears before they immediately begged to be let inside.
“Please just let me in, I just need somewhere to be right now.” Practically on the verge of tears, he gave in without a fight.
“I mean, I open in 30 minutes, but uhm… Sure.” He shuffled aside, holding the door open to let them in. A wash of relief fell over Marcellus as they sauntered inside with small mutters of ‘thank you’s under their breath. The shop smelled and looked like it usually did. The smoke of the furnace and the metallic scent from the weaponry and armor. The only source of light came from the furnace in the back of the open room. Allowing the area to be covered in a warm glow all around and all items hit with a small yellow hue. It was cozy, to say the least. A comfortable place compared to the constant frigid outside.
A small awkward silence fell over the two. I mean, it's not like they haven't been alone with each other before. Hell, they slept in the same bed just because they asked. Mirelo worked close to the fire, focusing on a new spear to add to the wall to sell. Marcellus started to space out, staring into the wall littered with armor in front of them. The noise around them became faint. Only little sniffles here and then were clear. Until a puff of smoke erupted from the furnace followed with the sounds of mild coughing. They whipped their head towards the sound, a newfound concern and worry interrupted their disassociation.
Without a second thought, they jumped up to go help the man. His face revealed to be covered in soot from the furnace sneezing in his face.
“Oh- Uh.. Shoot- let me help.” They took his face in their hands. Examining carefully before reaching one of their hands down to the end of their scarf. As they began to wipe off the dark ash off his face, Mirelo's heart quickened. His face heated underneath their touch and he stiffened. Marcellus finished cleaning up his face before realizing what they had done. They let out small awkward laughs, backing up to sit back down on one of the benches. Not looking forward towards the silence again, they began to finally rant about what had been going on, to be begging to be let into his shop. They rambled about the constant bread, the cons and tolls of parenting, and not being able to find a drink anywhere that they so hopelessly needed.
That last statement lingered in the air for a bit. Mirelo's cogs turned, remembering the carefully hidden bottle of white wine behind the lined up spears and glaives. He strode towards the weapons with a practiced ease.
“Well,” He started, beginning to separate the blades.
“I have this wine that Solenne had given me. She wanted me to feel better, and she doesn't drink anymore. So you can have it. I haven't drank much of it.” He held the large glass bottle by its neck, keeping it in a chokehold so that it wouldn't slip out of his hands. He set it on the table in front of the surprised half-foot.
They questioned, “Really? Are you sure?” For one–they didn't want to take something of a loved one if it wasn't theirs–and second, the delivery man would be suggesting that they get comfortable and drink in his establishment. Mirelo nodded with a certain look on his face. About to turn back to work, Marcellus blurted out,
“Hey, if you don't mind. Do you wanna share the bottle with me? It's too much for me to just drink alone.” Mirelo hesitated, thinking of the consequences. Although, there were a fair share of none. Since he wasn't the type of person to get drunk so easily.
"...Yeah. Sure."
“Great! Now uhm, do you have any glasses or anything to drink this out of?”
“Nope. We're drinking it out of the bottle.”
“Okay, yeah, that's fine–great even! Ha…” Indirect kissing. They're indirectly kissing for the first time without him even knowing the type of feelings they have for him.
With a slight pause, they shakily raised their hand from the table and reached for the bottle. They put a hand on the neck. It was cold to the touch and had a smooth texture. The lip of the label slightly peeled off the top. The alcohol inside swished as they raised the bottle to their mouth, the other hand holding the bottom of the giant glass for support. They squeezed their eyes shut as they took the first gulp.
Their face relaxed. Their eyebrows far from taught and muscles melted. They gently slammed the bottle onto the table, a small ‘ahh..’ leaving their mouth. The wine was sweet to the taste and light on their tongue. It had a slight orange and peach flavor with a little fizz.
Mirelo sat next to them with a practiced ease, watching them sip from the bottle. Before Marcellus took another sip, they glanced at Mirelo beside them. A slight guilt panged their heart from the odd look in his eye. Since they were already a little buzzed, they couldn't pinpoint it exactly. But then again, he was hard to read in general.
“Oh right, sorry..” They wiped their chin.
“Here, have some.” They slid the bottle towards the man. Watching him pick up the bottle effortlessly in a singular hand, and began chugging it without a single word. The juices spilled from the sides and slipped down his chin, down to his neck. Which is where he stopped.
“Thanks. I forgot how good it was.” Absolutely appalled, nervous, and flustered, they continued drinking to try and soothe all the odd feelings inside.
Eventually, it came to the point where Marcellus was moderately drunk while Mirelo was a bit tipsy. Their words slightly slurred as they spoke.
“You're like..really handsome to me y’know…Sometimes…I dream about–about kisthing you… like really really kisssing you… like…making out.” They paused, their drunk brain mustering up a brilliant idea.
“Would you make out with me? Like…if we could just– try, right now?”
Mirelo reacts a second later. All of a sudden, he started to sweat and his eyes darted around the room. His mouth turned dry as he gulped. He rubbed the back of his – currently heating up – neck. He swallowed one more time before replying.
“I'm not…opposed to it…”
“Really? Is that so?” Marcellus’ tone quickly shifted as their intoxication started to take over. Their mind was foggy, not completely there, but enough so to know what she wanted to do. Their voice turned to something more flirty, teasing. They slide closer, putting their leg up on the bench turning towards him. The lonely bottle watched as Marcellus reached their right hand to his thigh. Rubbing it softly and reaching their other hand to his shoulder. Attempting to soothe out the nervousness in the both of them.
Mirelo's heart raced as Marcellus inched dangerously close. Their chests almost touching and their noses near kissing. His breath grew heavy and his lungs inhaled as much air as it could before letting out a deep sigh. They stared into each other's eyes. Watching as they simultaneously leaned into each other. Marcellus’ eyes darted to his lips and back up before softly placing their mouth onto his.
Mirelo jolted a bit, still surprised by the action, before placing a hand to the small of their back, pulling them in close. Marcellus’ eyes widened at the sudden move. Trying to break free but failing due to his unbreakable grip. The kiss intensified. Open mouthed kisses and their saliva mixing together. Mirelo's hand shifted to grip Marcellus’ arms, forcing his own tongue to dominate the inside of their mouth.
They broke apart for a brief moment, heavy breathing filled the air. No words were said before they leaned back into each other. At this point, Mirelo had let go, relaxing and leaving his hands at their hips instead. Marcellus’ arms wrapped around his neck, pushing his head further into them and into the kiss. This time, it turned into something more sensual – slow. Only parting with a soft pop to breathe, just to go in for more.
Time had passed, and slowly, clothes were coming off. Mirelo's outer coat had been shed. His bowtie had undone, opening his shirt open by the first few buttons. Revealing the top of his toned pecs. Meanwhile, Marcellus’ scarf had been thrown to the side and their shirt rode up their stomach letting the air kiss their abdomen.
Before they could go any further, a small knock hit the door in bursts of three at a time. A child's voice was heard from outside.
“Marcellus! It's time to go!”
Marcellus cursed under their breath. Grabbing their scarf and tugging their shirt down. Quickly explaining to the now stunned Mirelo.
“The kid's here come on–hurry. She can't see us like this.” They reached for his shirt, hastily buttoning his shirt back up and tying his bow tie. They patted his shirt down one last time before they heard the door handle begin to turn.
The door creaked open, the little girl peaking inside to see nothing out of the ordinary. Gently whispering “We have to go” before closing the door again. Waiting for them outside. Marcellus stood up, brushing their hands through their hair and dusting themselves off. They began to step away, a faint sense of hesitancy filling their head. They sighed, turned around and kissed Mirelo one last time on the cheek. Muttering a ‘thank you’ as they did, before they opened the door and walked out his shop.
Mirelo sat there. Star struck at what had just happened. Watching the door. Revelling in the sweet memory and lost touch. He gulped, looking down and finally realizing the tightness he felt in his pants.
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