The coffee shop I work at is like a queer hotspot, but I don’t want to assume with you, and I’m afraid one of these days my co-workers will just ask you, because I keep going on about you
"Did he get his cerulean pigment to finally paint the colour of your eyes perfectly or-?” North asks dryly as Markus takes his coffee and settles into one of the booths.
“Hey!” Simon protests, elbowing her as she sticks her tongue out at him.
“Ask him out you gay disaster,” she rolls her eyes as she sets out to make his coffee. “He’s like a goddamn saint with the body of a supermodel. If you don’t snap that up someone else will.”
“I don’t know if he’s into guys,” Simon mumbles, maybe fussing over the placement of the fresh fruits atop the baked tart a little too much. Markus is an artist, he’ll appreciate the little details, right?
“Simon, Jericho’s been a queer hotspot ever since you flipped the Open sign on the door!” She laughs, not unkindly though. “We’re so queer here we’re pretty much a fixture in the city whether they like it or not.”
“What would I ever have to offer?” Simon accepts the almond-milk chai from North, who fixes him with a stern glare.
“Simon Lambert. How fucking dare you ask that when you are responsible for the creation of this safe space? All the queer kids who’ve found safety here- do they mean nothing to you? When I needed a place to stay after- after-” she falters, pressing her lips into a tight line. “You and Danny have faced so much shit, and this place? This incredible space? Is here because of you, Simon.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that, just stands there numbly feeling too many feelings, so he carefully carries the chai and the baked tart over to Markus instead.
“Here you go,” he places everything on the table, careful to put enough distance between the cup and Markus’ sketchbook. The artist looks up from his drawing and gives him a supermodel smile.
“Thanks Simon,” Markus looks at the tart. “Oh, fresh blackberries? You’re an angel.”
“You mentioned you hadn’t had any in so long, so...” he trails off, trying to sound casual and not creepy at all. Not at all as if he’d spent the past week trying to source fresh blackberries all over Detroit. Luckily Leo’s friend Ralph grew them on the rooftop garden at the community hall.
“You’re amazing, absolutely heaven sent!” Markus laughs softly, easing into a charming smile and oh, oh how Simon’s heart flutters at the sight. His freckles crinkle when he smiles and surely that’s utterly illegal?
“D-do you-” deep breath, stay calm, “do you...want me to get them in again? For next time?” He can’t, he just can’t.
“I hear there’s a farmer’s market on this Saturday about an hour’s drive from here,” the charming smile turns into something a little mischievous. “What if we went to buy some together? For next time?”
He can feel all the blood in his entire body pooling in his cheeks and there’s none left for his brain apparently. He manages a nod, and Markus’ mischievous smile turns into a confident grin. Sliding his phone over to him, he brushes his fingers against his hand.
"So what do you recommend?” The man asks, and Simon’s far too busy caught up in those beautiful mismatched eyes and that cinnamon dusting of freckles to form an answer right away.
“Oh, um- do you prefer something sweet or savoury?” He watches as the stranger peruses the morning’s wares.
“Something sweet?” He replies, more like a question than an answer. Simon joins him in front of the table with the sweet pastries.
“Perhaps a wildberry muffin? Or a cinnamon scroll?” Gesturing at each one makes the stranger tip his head curiously.
“Both.” The stranger declares with a satisfied smile, radiant and warm. Carefully wrapping each purchase in wax paper, Simon’s just about to hand them over when someone calls from afar.
“SIRE, YOU REALLY MUSTN’T-”
“I have to go.” Grabbing the bag from his hands, he presses six gold coins into Simon’s palm and Simon scrambles to hold them.
“Sir, this is far too much! I can’t possibly-”
“Consider it payment in advance,” he’s grinning a fox’s grin, full of mischief and cheekiness. “For when I next manage to drop by.”
And then he’s gone, dashing out of the bakery and leaving Simon standing there stunned, holding enough money in his hand to pay for a year’s rent and upkeep. What a strange man, he thinks, but one he wouldn’t mind seeing again.
“This is a Tom Ford!” Markus groans, getting to his feet and anguishing over the state of the now muddy velvet suit. “And tailored velvet!”
“Alright but we’re all still alive.” Josh points out as he sits up. Another assassination attempt, the first in Spring which means the snow has melted into slush and makes for muddy terrain.
“Filthy, but alive.” Simon pipes up, accepting Ronan’s hand as the RK900 helps him upright. “Thank you Ronan.”
“Lightning fast RK reflexes, right?” North snorts back a laugh as Connor pulls her up before reaching for Josh. “You hit the ground just as fast, Markus. Big brother still keeping up.”
“Would it be considered rude if I sent the shooter my drycleaning bill?” Markus says wryly, peeling off his sodden suit jacket. North grins.
Things you said when you were drunk with simarkus? :3
A drink that purposefully inhibits one’s sensors and fine motor skills doesn’t quite sound entirely logical to Markus, but he supposes everyone has their vices. Carl certainly does. There’s craftsmanship involved, a fine art to it to extract the key notes and blend them into something crisp and sharp. That’s what Carl says. Hank tells him it’s so humans can temporarily loosen their control, their inhibitions and just relax, just forget for a little while.
Markus isn’t quite sure what to make of it, when tearium brewer Theobald presents him with the android equivalent of beer. It replicates the taste of a light lager and has coding that temporarily, purposefully, meddles with their programming. He decides it must be consumed in a safe, controlled environment under supervision so as to ensure the coding is not too dangerous.
“You’re thinking very loudly, Markus.” Simon says matter of factly, in that tone he uses to scold children.
“I wasn’t aware my thought processes were audible.” He quips, and Simon giggles. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes slightly glazed. He’d volunteered to try the beverage in the safety of the Jericho office: private enough, but if things went wrong, medical help could be sought in no time at all.
“Well I can hear it.” The PL600 huffs, hands on his hips trying his very best to look authoritative but not quite managing it as he collapses into another peal of giggles. “You should relax. I think you’d like this, it really is quite remarkable.”
“I’ll give it a try soon, I promise.” Markus plucks the half empty bottle from his hand and sets it on his desk just in time for Simon to slump against him, winding his arms around his waist.
“I feel so light. Everything is a bit funny and I don’t know why? Did you know your freckles all just look like smudges right now? I can count them usually but I can’t right now.” Simon rambles, blinking owlishly up. “I can see why humans do this, you know. It’s a lot of fun. It’d help you relax I think, since you think so loudly. We should do this together. I think it’d be extra funny.”
“Alright.” Markus laughs into the clumsy kiss Simon crashes his mouth to his. “Alright, love. Next time, I promise.”
“I love you, you know?” Simon giggles helplessly into his chest. “I don’t think that’s meant to be funny but it is.”
“I love you too.” Markus chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around him. It’s a little bit funny, how foolish they are for love. He doesn’t need a drink to make him feel that, but he thinks it’d be fun to try anyway.
Join Me with simarkus taking a nice relaxing bubble bath together? Nothing sexual, just heart meltingly sofd 😌❤️
There’s no such thing as a guilty pleasure, Simon can hear Markus’ amused voice in his head, if it brings you pleasure then there’s no need to feel guilty. If there’s one frivolous activity, one frivolous spend Simon allows himself it’s long hot baths and bath bombs.
Tonight’s choice is a lavender based bomb that looks like a purple quartz geode, spreading twinkling shimmer all throughout the water as Simon sinks down low enough it touches his nose. The stress of the day simply washes away, lost in the swirls of purple and gold that glide and curl around him.
“Room for one more?” Markus leans against the doorway, tired but genuine smile on his handsome face.
“For you? Always.” Simon sits up, beckoning him over. “Come join me.” The bathtub is luxuriously big, much like everything in the Manfred manor and while Simon usually balked at such excess, the tub was the exception.
He lets himself openly, lazily drink in the sight of Markus undressing, more and more of that light brown skin with its constellations of freckles being revealed with each article of clothing that drops to the floor. Markus carefully climbs into the tub and Simon shifts so his back is pressed to Markus’ chest.
Closing his eyes, he makes a soft hum in pleasure as Markus wraps his arms around his waist and noses his hair. There’s still a disconnect for him, whenever he tries to process moments like these. Markus is at his most vulnerable, his most honest and it’s always just for him alone. Him, an obsolete PL600 well past expiration, somehow the object of the RK200′s affections. Absolutely absurd.
“So.” Markus murmurs into his hair, and Simon makes a small noise of acknowledgement. “That meeting was a complete waste of time.”
“Not completely.” Simon laughs threading their fingers together. “You got to wear your fancy new overcoat and the paparrazzi had a field day. I could barely hear myself think over the sound of all those shutters clacking.”
“Simon, my love, they weren’t photographing my new coat.” Markus huffs a laugh, bringing their twined fingers to his lips and pressing a kiss to Simon’s hand. To the one that had a new, bright glowing band of neon blue around his ring finger, matching the one Markus now wears. “I’m pretty sure it was this.”
