Categories > Original > Sci-Fi


by alanahikarichan 0 reviews

All the world is a stage, but Mark can't remember the script.

Category: Sci-Fi - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Romance, Sci-fi - Warnings: [Y] - Published: 2006-12-09 - Updated: 2006-12-09 - 509 words - Complete

Notes: A word of warning: Mark is thirty-something, Zach is fifteen or so, and this ends in an, ahem, fade-to-black.
If the ages or the gay bothers you, you really don't have to read it. Really. My world won't end if you skip it.


Mark had to admit, for all that this recruit followed the script perfectly, he added something new to the part.

As an example, one of the unspoken nuances of the recruit role was that they hero-worshipped Duv, crushed on Niobe, or admired Addie-- or all three. But apparently this kid, this son of Eos, has taken one look at that idea and decided to worship-admire-crush on Mark.

Not that the words were any diffrent; there were the same quiet, veiled vows of secrecy, loyalty, and dedication to the cause, willingness to help with Mark's fireworks or Skye's accounting or Addie's patroling. But the tone-- the way the lines were spoken, the way the kid's eyes shone when Mark complimented him instead of at the few spare words Duv lent anyone outside a meeting, instead of at Niobe's classy pure-white smile, instead of at the sight of Addie adjusting her green copper's cap.

Another example: He could make Mark, easily the most practiced at thespian pursuits, break character onstage. Not that it was too horrible, except ad lib had never been Mark's forte.

Mark assumed that was how he ended up kissing the kid; his ad libs tended to go down the gutter, and making out with someone half your age was probably as far down in the gutter as a man could get. (Not that the kid seemed to mind-- not with that breathy little noise that was begging for more.) And shouldn't fifteen be far too young to be crushing, and far too old to be worshiping? Obviously the kid had made a mistake somewhere in the script, scribbled in someone else's blocking without paying attention to sightlines. (Of course, the little whimper when Mark slid his fingers over Zach's dark hair and down his back wasn't discouraging the concept of a crush, or worship, or both.)

Maybe another actor had missed his entrance. Yes, that would explain it-- someone had missed their entrance, and Mark was just trying to cover for it by nipping at the kid's neck, trying to recapture Zach's pretty moan. (Instead of moaning, the kid arched against Mark, one hand weaving too tightly through his hair, but Mark knew a line when he felt one and continued, at liberty to make up what he wanted to do.)

After a minute or so, the ad lib took them to the couch, and screw sightlines anyway. The only blocking that mattered anymore was Mark's hands hitching up the kid's shirt, the only lines required coming in little puffs and breathy noises and unconcious moans as Mark kissed his way down an unscarred chest to waistband of Zach's pants.

Zach whimpered, ever-so-softly-but-clear, a masterful stage whisper-- Yes. Please, yes.

And Mark wonders if he was supposed to ignore such a straight invitation.
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