Upward Mobility. {Will/Marton]
Mar. 13th, 2005 06:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
palace_martonThe morning after this.
Marton watched Will wander around the bedroom retrieving his clothes and marked how slowly he was moving, the tight edges of tiredness at the corners of his eyes.
It was early morning, extremely early by most people’s standards, but it was within a few minutes of the time Marton usually got up and began to prepare for his day, hence Will’s impending exit.
He would, Marton knew from casual conversations, go down to his room now, but he’d not go back to bed for more sleep despite last night ending late and a full day of clients before that. Will might shower, dress, go get an early breakfast before beginning a new day’s work or he might decide to stop before he got to the P.P. lift and do a workout with Christian who was no doubt also up by now. Either way, Will wouldn’t sleep again until tonight’s insufficient hours, spent in Marton’s bed.
It was becoming untenable, but Marton was fully aware that his lover would make no complaint, would not even have thought of it as a difficulty. It was up to him to find a solution.
Will had tugged on his boots and was raking his fingers through his hair, finger-combing the unruly strands into some semblance of order, ready to go.
“Will.” Marton patted the side of the bed and drew himself up into a sitting position.
Dragged back from his meandering thoughts, Will gave himself a mental shake and smiled at Marton, trotting across the carpet and sliding himself onto the bed, one leg drawn up beneath him. He grinned. “Yep?”
Marton looked damned good first thing in the morning, he thought with more than a little touch of envy. His dark auburn hair tossed into random curls and the dark ruddy stubble on his cheeks gave him a rakish air. Relaxed and unguarded, white teeth flashing in a rare, entirely natural, smile, he was potent and intensely masculine and despite last night’s intense activity, Will felt a tiny twinge in his groin.
“About all this to-ing and fro-ing.” Marton told him, tilting his head to one side and regarding Will from beneath his eyebrows. “You’re wearing yourself out.”
“No I’m not!” Will protested vehemently. No way was he letting Marton think he couldn’t cope with this schedule; he’d not take that risk. “I’m fine.”
But Marton shook his head, curls tumbling, insistent. “You’re not fine. You’re worn out. Clients during the day and evenings, up here at night and then out again right on dawn. It can’t go on like this, Will, you’ll have an accident or simply collapse in the finish.”
Will shrugged, fingers tugging at the coverlet, his heart sinking. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “Cut down the clients?”
For a second, Marton was tempted to suggest that very thing. But he shook it off and went with his original idea. “No.” he said. “I was thinking more along the lines of proximity.” he went on. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his drawn-up knees and covered Will’s busy fingers with a hand, stilling their movement.
“Half the problem is location.” he said. “You’re up here when you’re not working and yet you have to keep trudging downstairs two or three times a day to fetch things from your room.” He lifted his hand to tip Will’s head up, forcing him to meet Marton’s eyes. “Move into Christian’s old room.” he suggested.
Will’s eyes widened. The part of him which always thought in negatives had been sure that Marton was about to suggest an ending as the solution, not a shift of residence! He gave the idea only brief consideration before nodding his agreement. Marton always thought things out completely and he wouldn’t be offering it as a resolution if he didn’t think it’d work.
“Okay.” he said. At least, he reflected somewhat ruefully, he could catch a few quick naps here and there if his room was close. Marton was right of course, he was tired, near worn to the bone, though he’d never confess it outright. And, damn, it was close, wasn’t it? Practically right across the hall. His heart gave a little ‘zing’ of happiness. Living up here, this close to Marton, made this seem more solid, even more . . . real.
Marton was watching him carefully, studying his face. Will gave him a brilliant smile. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll grab my stuff sometime today.”
The alarm clock beside the bed pinged and Will pulled a face, getting to his feet with apparent reluctance. He’d been intending to go get some practice in with Christian, thinking that maybe it’d help shake off the cobwebs of tiredness but now, instead, he’d head down to his room, his former room and collect his gear. Wouldn’t take long, he didn’t have much.
After a brief kiss, Will left and Marton fell back against his pillows for a moment, pleased with the outcome. His lover could be a bit touchy, he knew and understood the reasons behind it, offering him help in any form required tact and Marton was happy that his had worked.
Will would be more relaxed and better rested, that was the main thing, but there were other benefits inherent in the offer that he’d considered when dreaming it up, but obviously Will hadn’t, not yet anyway.
He folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the canopy above the bed, a tiny smile playing across his face. There’d be an explosion of epic proportions when Will woke up to the full consequences of his ready agreement, but Marton could deal with that. He chuckled softly. Will made a pretty firecracker when he went off and he could look forward to dousing the fire with something other than water when it happened.
He threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, still chuckling. Yep. This was going to be good. No more public brawling for you, my lad. Marton got to his feet and set about readying himself for the day, a satisfied smile firmly in place.
Marton watched Will wander around the bedroom retrieving his clothes and marked how slowly he was moving, the tight edges of tiredness at the corners of his eyes.
It was early morning, extremely early by most people’s standards, but it was within a few minutes of the time Marton usually got up and began to prepare for his day, hence Will’s impending exit.
He would, Marton knew from casual conversations, go down to his room now, but he’d not go back to bed for more sleep despite last night ending late and a full day of clients before that. Will might shower, dress, go get an early breakfast before beginning a new day’s work or he might decide to stop before he got to the P.P. lift and do a workout with Christian who was no doubt also up by now. Either way, Will wouldn’t sleep again until tonight’s insufficient hours, spent in Marton’s bed.
It was becoming untenable, but Marton was fully aware that his lover would make no complaint, would not even have thought of it as a difficulty. It was up to him to find a solution.
Will had tugged on his boots and was raking his fingers through his hair, finger-combing the unruly strands into some semblance of order, ready to go.
“Will.” Marton patted the side of the bed and drew himself up into a sitting position.
Dragged back from his meandering thoughts, Will gave himself a mental shake and smiled at Marton, trotting across the carpet and sliding himself onto the bed, one leg drawn up beneath him. He grinned. “Yep?”
Marton looked damned good first thing in the morning, he thought with more than a little touch of envy. His dark auburn hair tossed into random curls and the dark ruddy stubble on his cheeks gave him a rakish air. Relaxed and unguarded, white teeth flashing in a rare, entirely natural, smile, he was potent and intensely masculine and despite last night’s intense activity, Will felt a tiny twinge in his groin.
“About all this to-ing and fro-ing.” Marton told him, tilting his head to one side and regarding Will from beneath his eyebrows. “You’re wearing yourself out.”
“No I’m not!” Will protested vehemently. No way was he letting Marton think he couldn’t cope with this schedule; he’d not take that risk. “I’m fine.”
But Marton shook his head, curls tumbling, insistent. “You’re not fine. You’re worn out. Clients during the day and evenings, up here at night and then out again right on dawn. It can’t go on like this, Will, you’ll have an accident or simply collapse in the finish.”
Will shrugged, fingers tugging at the coverlet, his heart sinking. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. “Cut down the clients?”
For a second, Marton was tempted to suggest that very thing. But he shook it off and went with his original idea. “No.” he said. “I was thinking more along the lines of proximity.” he went on. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his drawn-up knees and covered Will’s busy fingers with a hand, stilling their movement.
“Half the problem is location.” he said. “You’re up here when you’re not working and yet you have to keep trudging downstairs two or three times a day to fetch things from your room.” He lifted his hand to tip Will’s head up, forcing him to meet Marton’s eyes. “Move into Christian’s old room.” he suggested.
Will’s eyes widened. The part of him which always thought in negatives had been sure that Marton was about to suggest an ending as the solution, not a shift of residence! He gave the idea only brief consideration before nodding his agreement. Marton always thought things out completely and he wouldn’t be offering it as a resolution if he didn’t think it’d work.
“Okay.” he said. At least, he reflected somewhat ruefully, he could catch a few quick naps here and there if his room was close. Marton was right of course, he was tired, near worn to the bone, though he’d never confess it outright. And, damn, it was close, wasn’t it? Practically right across the hall. His heart gave a little ‘zing’ of happiness. Living up here, this close to Marton, made this seem more solid, even more . . . real.
Marton was watching him carefully, studying his face. Will gave him a brilliant smile. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll grab my stuff sometime today.”
The alarm clock beside the bed pinged and Will pulled a face, getting to his feet with apparent reluctance. He’d been intending to go get some practice in with Christian, thinking that maybe it’d help shake off the cobwebs of tiredness but now, instead, he’d head down to his room, his former room and collect his gear. Wouldn’t take long, he didn’t have much.
After a brief kiss, Will left and Marton fell back against his pillows for a moment, pleased with the outcome. His lover could be a bit touchy, he knew and understood the reasons behind it, offering him help in any form required tact and Marton was happy that his had worked.
Will would be more relaxed and better rested, that was the main thing, but there were other benefits inherent in the offer that he’d considered when dreaming it up, but obviously Will hadn’t, not yet anyway.
He folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the canopy above the bed, a tiny smile playing across his face. There’d be an explosion of epic proportions when Will woke up to the full consequences of his ready agreement, but Marton could deal with that. He chuckled softly. Will made a pretty firecracker when he went off and he could look forward to dousing the fire with something other than water when it happened.
He threw back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, still chuckling. Yep. This was going to be good. No more public brawling for you, my lad. Marton got to his feet and set about readying himself for the day, a satisfied smile firmly in place.
