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It’s really no secret that Marcus hates the summer. In his defense, he really has every right to. First of all, the weather itself is criminal. How could anyone possibly enjoy leaving the house and immediately sweating up a storm? Running around all over town isn’t exactly the best thing to do when there’s a possibility of heat stroke. Not to mention the sun burn. A kid from the midlands burns to a goddamn crisp. Second, everyone tends to get a bit lazier, which is understandable. But for this line of work, you need resources and you need them fast. Lastly, Tomas Ortega chooses the summertime to enact tons of community service programs that end with him in a white tank, sweating buckets and looking every bit like the male model he should’ve been. Now this last bit isn’t exactly a problem per se, more like a personal grievance he can’t exactly bring to light considering he doesn’t have a decent explanation.
When Marcus woke up covered in sweat, this time due to the broken air conditioner and not a gruesome nightmare, he just wanted to shower and go back to sleep. Just as he was crawling back onto the bed, his ringtone goes off. At some point the year before, Kat changed his ringtone to Jesus Take The Wheel and he still hasn’t been able to change it. Even if he could, he wouldn’t, considering how much he loves the little smile that pops onto Tomas’ face whenever his phone rings. He flips the phone open with a curt “What?” already knowing who it is.
“Marcus, hi, it’s me, Tomas”
“Yes, I know. That’s always the first thing you say when anyone answers the phone.” He chuckles.
Tomas releases a laugh of his own “Lo siento, it’s a force of habit”
“No worries. Whatever could you need on this sweltering Friday afternoon?” Marcus asks, finally realizing he woke up half past 5pm.
“I’m trying to get a few more volunteers to help paint the church. We got most of it done yesterday but you know how it is”
“Let me guess, Kat and Casey messed around with the radio the entire time and didn’t get anything done?”
that got another laugh out of Tomas
“Yes, exactamente. Kat has quite a scandalous playlist. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the choir singers looking so traumatized”
Marcus smiled, already slipping on a clean t-shirt and some jeans, knowing damn well Tomas could’ve asked him to spend the day at a garbage dump and he’d probably say yes. “Of course, I’ll be there in 20. Anything else?”
“Just bring your sunny disposition” he snarked.
“Oh definitely, I’ll smile prettily and ask about the next bake sale. I heard I make some delicious macaroons” If Tomas wanted to be snarky, so could he.
“A pretty face and a baker? A dream come true, no?”
was his response. Marcus was a bit taken aback, not expecting that at all. Tomas was then quick to huff out “I’ll see you soon, Marcus” and hung up.
Marcus pocketed his phone and leaned back against the headboard, running a hand down his face. Honestly, this crush was getting out of control. He wouldn’t act on it, obviously. He was excommunicated therefore the church could no longer hold his vows against him. Tomas on the other hand, gave his entire soul to the church. Part of Marcus, a large part actually regrets talking Tomas out of being a full-time exorcist. It’s pathetic, he knows it, but there isn’t much he can do. Hell, even the men he brings home end up looking like Tomas come morning light. Marcus shook himself, as to stop that particular train of thought, grabbed his things and started his walk to the church.
Marcus jinxed himself, as it turns out. The congregation was planning another bake sale and a few of the housewives followed him around, discussing pastry ideas and prices while he painted. They eventually agreed to sit down over the weekend and plan it all carefully. As much as he grumbled, joining in on the gossip was pretty fun. It was…normal. Tomas popped up right after they left where Marcus was crouching, trying to paint the inner corners of the wall
“Look at you, making friends. Maybe I’ll actually buy something other than store bought cupcakes this year as a contribution”
he said, in a mock whisper.
“Why Father Tomas, who would’ve thought? Next you’re going to tell me they weren’t gluten free.” He said, without looking up from his current task.
That got a snort out of Tomas
“Don’t tell the PTA parents, I’ll be a pariah, a sham they’ll call me”
Marcus grinned then, finally looking up at Tomas only to release a stuttering breath. God hated him, he definitely hated him. There was Tomas Ortega, shirtless, wiping off the sweat beading on his forehead with said t-shirt. Christ, how did he make that look so sinful? When he turned his head to look at Marcus, he realized he had been staring and promptly continued to paint.
“You? A Pariah? I doubt that, I truly do” he said.
“And why is that?”
he sat down against the wall, the summer heat already having dried the section. Marcus looked at him briefly, cursing god, cursing himself and mostly cursing the summer heat.
“Your personality is like this gravitational field. Everyone you meet suddenly orbits around you, no matter what you do. It’s admirable really. They trust you with their lives. Funny, considering you almost died trying to make some rice”
Tomas pushed Marcus, making him fall back onto the grass. “You’re hilarious” he said, a large smile on his face.
“For your information it wasn’t just rice, it was tortillas and eggs too”
Marcus smirked “Oh, my apologies. That justifies calling the fire department I suppose”
Tomas breathed out a laugh at that, then got up and offered a hand to help Marcus up.
“Well, I guess I can’t be perfect. Leave the gravitational pull, as you call it, to me and I’ll leave the cooking to you” Marcus took his hand, hating the instant burst of happiness he felt.
“I’ll drink to that.”
He looked up at the sky, seeing the sun was slowly starting to set
“I’m going to miss this. Calm, normal, nice” he looked to Tomas again, seeing him already staring.
“Have you decided when you’re leaving?” Tomas asked.
Marcus sighed, and realizing he was still holding Tomas’ hand, let go immediately. “Probably by the end of this week”
Tomas gave him a small smile “So three more days with our resident baker?”
“Yes, three more days for you to poison me to death with your atrocious cooking ability”
As the sun started to set, all the supplies were put away and everyone celebrated a job well done. Marcus looked at the pizza boxes scattered across the grass and felt bad for whoever had to deliver it all. As people started to steadily go on home, the Rance family stopped and said their goodbyes to both Tomas and Marcus. After hugs and good tidings, they started towards their car. Kat turned around, gave Marcus one last hug and whispered something in his ear. Tomas couldn’t be certain but Marcus almost looked like he was blushing.
As they both got into Tomas’ car, Marcus turned towards him “What would you say to getting a drink?”
he half expected Tomas to turn him down, dreading and hoping he would all the same.
“Sure, I was craving awful, watered down beer anyway” he joked and turned the key in the ignition.
The drive was relatively quiet, Marcus playing with the radio and Tomas humming under his breath when he recognized a particular song. It was about a 40-minute ride, considering someone probably would have an aneurysm at seeing their local priest drinking alcohol. Once they arrived at the bar, a tiny rundown yet lively place called The Barrel, they ushered themselves to an unoccupied table towards the back.
Tomas got them their drinks, a gin and tonic for Marcus and a beer bottle for himself. They drank in silence, occasionally commenting on the bar patrons, a particular group appeared to be celebrating someone’s promotion. After a while Tomas has finished his second bottle
“You’re wrong about me, you know.” He says.
“How so?”
Tomas scratches a little at the stubble starting to grow on his cheek “I’m not admirable. I wish I was, but I’m not. I hate everything I’m doing now. Cashing donation checks, organizing fundraisers, painting a chapel. I hate not having a purpose”
Tomas opens a third bottle and takes a long swig before continuing “The Rance family was probably the first time in a long time that I felt…needed”
Marcus stares back at him and doesn’t think twice before placing his hand on Tomas’ shoulder “We all do our part, we help people our own way”
Tomas scoffed, putting his bottle down “Yeah, well what if I don’t want to continue?” Marcus raised an eyebrow “What do you mean?”
Tomas looked at him for a few seconds then focused on someone over Marcus’ shoulder “That man over there has been trying to get your attention for a while now”
Marcus looks at Tomas for a bit, still expecting an answer and then turns to look at the man. He’s tall, probably taller than Marcus and is definitely interested in him. He smiles a bit and gives Marcus a small wave before turning back to his group of friends. He turns back to Tomas rolling his eyes
“Thank you for your observation, sadly he isn’t my type”
he says, taking a swig of his gin. “What is your type then?”
Marcus chokes at that, a laugh bubbles out of Tomas at the sight “Well?” “Well..I don’t know, but it isn’t him. He looks like the type of man who will want to sit around all day watching stupid daytime television. Christ, he probably only wears khakis”
Tomas can’t stop laughing then “Dios mio, what do you have against khakis?”
“They’re ugly and I will stand by my opinion” he scoffs.
“Ok fine, if you don’t want to sit around watching Days of Our Lives and trying on multicolored khakis, what would your ideal type be like?”
Tomas asks, albeit bluntly. “Easy, adventurous, funny, sarcastic enough to deal with me that’s for sure.”
He laughs a little, he’s started talking so there’s no use stopping now, liquid courage and all. “I’m usually the one running into danger, then being punished. Having someone who’d still stand by my side no matter what would be glorious. Unrealistic, yet glorious”
He looks up at Tomas then, those hazel eyes swimming with an emotion he can’t discern. Marcus coughs a little
“Like I said, unrealistic. Exorcists are the same, they crave normal lives and when we have the opportunities to have one, we just can’t turn away from our calling. It’s like a drug really.”
He looks back at Tomas “Enough of that, what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Oh come on, the great Father Tomas definitely has a type. What lovely ladies catch your eye?”
Tomas looks away for a second, blushing, then takes a deep breath “Confident, gorgeous inside and out and a little bratty I suppose. It’s…difficult for me to find myself attracted to just anyone”
Marcus laughs “Jessica must’ve been something special then” Tomas looks at Marcus then “I guess so. She definitely isn’t my type now. That was a mistake”
Marcus gives him a sympathetic smile “We’ve all been there, Tomas. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. This conversation took a real turn.” Marcus looks around the bar then, a small booth of women catching his eye “There’s plenty of options here. How about I set you up?” Tomas looks down at his joined hands on the table then back at Marcus
“Anyone?”
“Pardon?”
“Anyone in this bar?”
“Preferably” Marcus laughs
“You”
Marcus looks at Tomas, wide eyed for an instant and then starts chuckling, all while trying to calm his racing heart. He won’t hope, wouldn’t dream of it.
“Oh I think you could do better. That pretty redhead has been giving you bedroom eyes for the last 15 minutes” he says
“I don’t want her, I want you.” Tomas replies, the finality in his voice is heart stopping
“You’re drunk and don’t know what you’re saying, Tomas”
“This beer is so light, I think I was more drunk at my baptism than I am now. I am lucid, Marcus. I know what I’m saying. I don’t expect you to feel the same, I understand the dilemma and how crazy this sounds” Tomas pauses, looks at him then starts to get up “I’ll go pick up the tab and drop you off at your apartment.”
As he’s getting up, Marcus’ hand shoots out to grip Tomas’. Can he do this? He’d be insane to, a bloody maniac. He can’t even be sure Tomas is of right mind. His mind is running through all the possibilities as to why Tomas would suddenly tell him he wants him. Intoxication? Heat stroke? Demon possession?
Before he can stop himself, he brings Tomas’ hand to his mouth and gives it a light kiss, staring at Tomas all the while
“God, I wish I didn’t feel the same. I truly do”
Tomas’ stared pierced him, the usually expressive man didn’t even know how to react. After a few minutes of Marcus clutching onto his left hand like a lifeline, Tomas laced their fingers together and smiled.
Both men got up, hands caged together and walked to pay off their tab. Marcus’ face was flushed a warm pink, something that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Once the tab was taken care of, they both walked to Tomas’ car, Marcus opening the driver’s side door, and holding his hand out to get the keys from Tomas.
Once they’re both in the car, Tomas brings their hands together again and they start the drive to Marcus’, neither of them can keep their lips from turning up for more than a few minutes.
Marcus parks in front of the apartment complex where he’s staying and they both make their way across the street towards the small park.
Tomas stops under a weeping willow, breathing in the warm summer air, taking it all in. Marcus stares him as he does this, wondering how one man could do something so simple and look so beautiful. Tomas opens his eyes and stares at Marcus so intently, he actually feels another blush climbing up his neck.
“Your presence is intoxicating, did you know that? Marcus states, more than asks
“Is it now?”
“You definitely drive me bonkers, Christ. Right now, all I can think about is kis-”
Marcus doesn’t even finish his sentence seeing as Tomas has pulled him by his collar and kissed him. It’s chaste, a test run.
As he’s pulling away, Marcus grips both sides of Tomas’ face and brings him in for a second kiss. This one isn’t chaste, isn’t careful. It’s all labored breathing and lip biting and low moans and dear God he hopes nobody is taking a walk in the park this late because he can’t bring himself to stop.
Once they do manage to catch a breath, they laugh, noses touching eyes glued to each other
“I meant I’d follow you”
“What?”
“At the bar, when I said I didn’t want to continue. You asked what I meant. I meant I’d follow you”
Marcus caresses Tomas’ face, tenderness and reluctance all in one
“Have you thought this through? Exorcists are- ”
“Unpredictable, in constant danger, always facing death. Si, I know.”
“And you want to give up what you have here for that? You could die, Tomas. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Marcus looks at Tomas, and sees the stubbornness he’s come to expect in his eyes
“So could you. We’re partners, aren’t we? Where you go, I’ll go.”
Marcus kisses him again, softer this time.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive”
And they’re kissing again, Marcus should really get them inside before they’re charged with public indecency charges at the rate this is going.
“I like the sound of it, actually.”
“Of what?”
They make their way up the complex stairs, and into the apartment, Marcus already taking off his shirt, barely even feeling the sunburn, knowing it’ll be agony tomorrow morning.
“Tomas Ortega, Exorcist. It’s catchy” Marcus’ grin is full of mischief as he pulls Tomas towards him by his belt loops.
Tomas barks out a laugh and wraps his arms around Marcus’ neck, mindful of the splotchy red marks.
“Marcus Keane and Tomas Ortega, Exorcists. Even catchier, no?”