totalwildcard | Apartment Above Needful Things; Later Friday

Entry tags:

apartment,
marc

Apartment Above Needful Things; Later Friday

It was not as dusty in the upstairs apartment as it had been the last time Marc had been up there. Like, sure, it was still dusty in places because Harley and her attention span had prioritized the spots that she actually used on a daily basis, but still! The living room slash kitchen space that they entered into from the stairs was actually looking lived in now, with stuff like cereal packages and coffee on the kitchen counters and some empty takeaway cartons littering the coffee table Harley had hauled up from the store.

Hey, the narrative had said it wasn't that dusty anymore, not anything about there being no mess. It wasn't too bad, anyway, there was just a little bit of clutter!

So far.

Whatever, Harley had put some personal touches in. Some eclectic decor pieces around the place, a pop art style painting on one of the walls, that sorta thing. (And a taxidermy beaver in a tutu on the counter, but Beaver wasn't decor.)

"Well, here we are!" Harley announced. "I promise this place isn't as much of a sneezing hazard anymore."

(for that guy, continued from here! NSFW)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Marc sat up as well, which he'd kind of been thinking of doing anyway so hey that worked. Her look of concern helped dial down the tension he'd been feeling and how quickly his walls were going up.

"Wasn't saying you would," Marc told her, more patient than he'd been a moment ago. "Didn't think you would either. All I'm saying is the phrasing didn't work for me. Because I figured you're not into saying shit the other person isn't into anymore than you are into doing it, right?"

"But I didn't phrase it like that, either!" Harley claimed, which was not her best argument and not even entirely accurate, but in her defense, a lot of her attention was suddenly snatched by the noise that could only come from a giant hyena sprinting up a flight of stairs.

So now she was scrambling her way off the bed so she could try and go intercept the incoming exotic pet missile, muttering, "Great, now I gotta keep Bruce from trying to eat you."

And Marc hadn't meant he'd actually do whatever he wanted to Harley without her permission back at the beginning of this. But when she'd told him she didn't like the way he put it he'd listened and immediately adjusted because how she felt was more important than what he'd meant. All he'd been asking for was the same courtesy in return.

But that was obviously not a conversation that was going to happen with the hyena around. So Marc got up and started putting his clothes on with military style brisk efficiency. "One way to fix that."

Sadly, Harley didn't see him start doing that, too busy darting out the bedroom door to catch Bruce as early as she could. But it was surely going to make for a great surprise in just a moment!

"Bruce!" she called, as the hyena bounded to her across the living room. "Brucey! Everything's fine, baby, it was just... talk."

Well, at least the hyena seemed to be buying what she was saying. (Not that that was the heart of the issue with Marc, but, you know.)

Edited 2024-06-01 18:33 (UTC)

Marc might do a lot of things wiser people would never get near - including things that involved significant harm - but being naked around a hyena that wanted to eat him wasn't one of them.

As such he prioritized getting underwear and pants on, for what were perhaps obvious reasons. Whether he got much further than that depended on how long Harley took to come back.

So far, it was taking at least a significantly lengthy moment. Harley was trying to just send Bruce back downstairs, but he seemed awfully keen on checking out the bedroom, which she was now actively blocking him from doing.

"No, Bruce," she was saying, firmly, crouching to his level, "we're all good here, okay baby?"

That got Marc up to shirts then.

Of course there was a flaw in the plan to leave to diffuse the hyena situation. Namely that leaving would require going past the hyena. So even if Marc got all the way dressed by the time she got back, he might be standing there kind of uselessly.

He could also have saved them both a little drama and embarrassment and gone out the window?

"Fine, I'll get you a treat," Harley said, getting up and coaxing Bruce to come with her closer to the couch, where she could grab some Twizzlers off the coffee table. "See? Everything's gotta be okay if there's treats."

This seemed to appease Bruce. Once he had a Twizzler in his mouth, Harley was finally able to guide him back to the stairs. "Come on, back you go, Brucey, good boy."

She closed the door after him, this time. Just in case.

Then, with a Twizzler for herself in hand, she finally returned to the bedroom - only to promptly stop right in the doorway, her face falling a little. "Oh."

Leaving without telling Harley wasn't anywhere near high on the list of acceptable options as far as Marc was concerned. Worst came to worst it wouldn't even have been the first time an animal (or something like it) tried attacking him.

"Figured that was a hint I'd overstayed," he told her.

"He gets worried when there's yelling," Harley said, fidgeting with the candy in her hand.

She was just suddenly feeling really naked.

"Gotcha," Marc said. "Wasn't sure if he was speaking on your behalf."

Marc noticed the fidgeting. He hesitated, then slipped off his button down shirt and held it out to her in a silent offer.

Harley almost pointed out how close all her own clothes were, but caught herself just in time. She took the shirt with a grateful little nod, and slipped it on pretty quickly, too.

"I only get him to eat people who are real creeps," she replied, by way of explanation, doing up a couple of the buttons.

"Good to know I don't make that list," Marc said.

He was a lot of things, but creep was one he tried to avoid.

"You don't," Harley said, a little subdued but sincere. And wasn't that kind of related to what had kicked up all this hyena trouble, anyway? Harley bit off the end of the Twizzler to buy a few seconds of time with chewing.

And then she muttered, "I wasn't tryin' to be a creep or a dick to you, either. Or, even sound like one. Didn't know I was doin' that."

And she'd cooled down enough to at least not argue about it anymore.

"I'll... do better. 'Cause I like you."

"I know you weren't. Just - " Marc tapped the side of his head. "You're not the only one with screws loose. Sometimes shit lands wrong."

Marc took a chance on stepping closer to her. Not that anybody could overhear them - okay, maybe Bruce - but it was the kind of thing that felt more appropriate speaking for her ears only. "Normally I don't tell people. May have noticed I'm real good at packing shit away. But with you it mattered. So I told you. Because I like you too."

"You chose to tell me?"

And she'd reacted like she had?

Well, now Harley felt even more like a jackass about it.

"I know this keeps coming as a surprise to you but normally I don't talk," Marc told her. But there was a glint of humor in his eyes to indicate this was a self-aware joke, not any kind of reprimand or even hard feelings about her not guessing. "I keep doing things with you I don't do with other people. You kinda have that effect on me, Doc."

"Why?" Harley asked, without stopping to think about it.

But let's be real, she probably would've still asked. She could boast and preen all she wanted but actually being the exception to anyone's rules? It didn't happen to her often.

Marc let out a breath. Not exasperated or anything. Just taking a moment to think since he didn't have a Twizzler to buy himself some time with. Because, yanno, words. Not his strong suit.

"I've never met anyone like you." Which was stating the obvious since Harley but that didn't make it less true.

"You almost never react the way I expect. In a good way. Usually." Marc gestured to indicate what had just happened between them but in a way that also said he wasn't upset about it anymore, just acknowledging it. "You've had a lot of shit happen to you - and I know you probably haven't even told me half of it. But you're still positive. Fighting. I know how hard that is. I admire it."

"You admire it?" Harley repeated, like she wasn't sure she believed it. "Something I do?"

A beat passed.

"Are you sure ya got the right broad? 'Cause saying all that to me if you actually got me confused with someone else would be real mean."

"I may be screwed in the head but even I wouldn't mistake you for anybody else," Marc said, looking her right in the eyes if she let him, just so it was clear there was no confusion. "You're one of a kind."

Oh, he got her to look him in the eye, all right.

But hope he was also okay with getting a Twizzler-flavored kiss, because that was what Harley was going for now, in something of a sudden move.

Marc didn't mind it. He moved to fold her into his arms as she did, silently letting her know he wasn't going anywhere even if they sometimes got their wires crossed.

Good. Good, good, good, because Harley's arm had already snaked its way around his shoulders, too.

It wasn't as heated a kiss as some of the previous ones, but it seemed to still have an intensity of its own. Maybe Harley was making up for the whole mess.

Marc hadn't fully been aware of lingering emotional tender spots but that didn't mean they hadn't been there. So as Harley kissed him she'd feel Marc relaxing even more against her, like just having her there was soothing.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject