Hippie Boys
Summary: Gerry (in Magnus Protocol), is searching for inspiration for his next work when he finds a local occult shop. It seems like nothing much until finds a fellow artist.
Characters: Gerard Keay | Michael Shelley
A/N: I see your 'coffee shop' and I raise you occult shop. This is so self indulgant it hurts but do I care? No.
Gerry only has vague memories of the Magnus Institute. Questionnaires, signing forms, and some old people talking to him like he was something special. There’s vague recollections of some of the other kids and a couple random activities but truly he never thought he’d see any of it again. After all, Gigi is protective about it and keeps insisting it’s best left forgotten.
Just as luck would have, while Gerry was out one night looking for inspiration for a new piece, he happened to stumble onto an occult shop. “Eye for an Eye”, as the sign stated, with occult, arcane, and supernatural specialties. There was a luminous sign for tarot and palm readings inside. Gerry wasn’t too invested into occult and modern pagan/holistic stuff but inspiration strikes in the strangest places.
As he walked in, the door bell chimed softly above him and a kindly older woman leaned over the counter, “Welcome to Eye for an Eye, if you want to see anything in the cases, let me know.”
Gerry smiled politely and nodded, “Will do.”
The shelves looked to be a work of hand-carpentry, stocking everything from crystals to cards to pendulums and incense. It was truly the place to be for the modern ‘witch’. He noted some prints and custom stickers beside the register and decided to investigate.
The old woman smiled as Gerry looked through. “Do you like them?” she asked softly, “My grandson made the prints. He’s quite good with pastels.”
“Yeah? I’m an artist myself, actually. More of a painter, really.” Gerry shrugged.
“Do you want to talk to him, then? I’m sure he’d love to meet another artist.” The old woman said with an edge of excitement.
“Uh- sure, yeah. If he isn’t busy?”
The older woman shakes her head and calls out into the curtained ‘employees only’ area, “Michael! Come meet this artist! Handsome young man.”
Gerry feels his cheeks gain a slight tinge of pink at that comment. He can’t entirely decide if she pointed it out because her grandson is queer or because she thinks that of her own accord. Either is uncomfortable at the minute.
Michael, as he was called, pokes his head out. A man about Gerry’s age though with a bit more height to him. Long golden curls spill over his shoulders, and he has thin golden rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. As he steps out, Gerry can see the dictionary definition of a hippie. Patchwork handsewn harm pants with too many pockets, a cropped top made from what looks like old curtain, and jingling crystal jewellery.
Michael offers a hand, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Gerry takes his hand half-expecting a wall of body odor and only finding the scent of Old Spice antiperspirant, “Pleasure is all mine. So- you made these prints?”
Michael nods, and gestures to the almost picturesque scenes of gentle sunsets, beaches, mountains, “Yeah… sometimes a camera just doesn’t do a scene justice, y’know?”
“Tell me about it. I swear- I can find the most beautiful sky and it’s ruined by camera desaturation.” Gerry agrees.
“This is my way of re-capturing those moments. Have you ever tried hand rolled pastels?” Michael asks. He quirks his head like a curious dog or bird.
“Can’t say I have. I’m more of a paints guy… oil based, personally though sometimes watercolour fits the idea better.” Gerry catches himself starting to ramble.
Michael nods encouragingly, like he wants him to continue. Gerry’s never had a willing audience to his, as Gigi calls them, unmedicated ramblings. He doesn’t dare to think about the fluttering feelings in his chest. They just met, that’s insane.
“Right- um… well, anyway, I don’t always like being constrained to a 2 dimensional canvas. Sometimes a pot can convey the message better because you have to reach out and interact. Y’know? It becomes part of the art to touch and feel the brushstrokes. Though- Gigi says I’m a bit too enthusiastic. Got a ton of them at home.” Gerry looks out the shop windows, trying to hide how eager he got.
Michael laughs, a soft and breathy sound that feels like a period is between each ‘hah’, “I think that’s lovely! If you ever want to, we might be able to take some and resell. Support local artists and all.”
“You would?” Gerry asks, stunned.
“Why not?” Michael counters, “You seem like a passionate creator and if can get your work out there it’s worth it.”
Gerry lets a soft, contended smile settle onto his features, “I’ll find some good pieces for you.”
After some other pleasantries and buying a print, Gerry heads home with a new idea in mind. Sun motifs, against faded rainbows with golden accents which have nothing to do with cute hippie men. Totally. Similarly, his recent research into paganism and occult has nothing to do with anything. Just got inspired by the shop and not anyone within it. Yes.
God, he’s too gay for his own good.
