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The look on Connor’s face made his heart ache. The slightly contracted brows, that hint of sadness and disappointment which disappeared immediately when Connor tried to regain his composure but lasted long enough for Markus to notice that it was just as bad as he had expected - feared. Even without seeing it written all over his face, he would have known that Connor was upset and that he probably didn’t understand why he was sending him home again, either. The first time it had seemed that Connor would have liked to spend the night at his place, he had managed to make it look like accidental circumstance that it wasn’t possible. Like he wasn’t prepared. As if he hadn’t known. It wasn’t fair, but the only way he could think of to protect both Connor’s feelings and himself. He hadn’t meant to hurt him - and now he had done just that. By telling him no again. Taking a deep breath, he looked at him with mild concern, but Connor’s gaze was cast down.
Before Markus could even say another word, the man had already turned around to leave. It made him press his lips together as he watched him stride across the driveway, further away from him - not just physically this time. It was the first time since they had started dating that Markus felt like he had made a big mistake. That he had really hurt the man he liked so much. That he had started driving him away. Closing the door as quietly as he could as if being careful now changed anything about the situation, he decided it would be best to send him a message. Leaning against the kitchen counter just a few minutes later, a steaming cup of lavender tea right next to him, he tried to find the right words to apologize, but still be subtle about it. Tactful. Gentle. He had to show Connor that he was still fond of him, despite the fact that he couldn’t stay at his place or vice versa. That it didn’t even have anything to do with the affection he harbored for him. Because that was the truth. He needed to calm them both and protect what they had.
Even hours later, when he was lying in his king-size bed, Markus was unable to sleep. The thoughts that were running through his head and the fact that his message had either gone unnoticed or simply been ignored by Connor tightened his chest. He had to go and see him the next morning - as soon as it was appropriate. If Connor really held a grudge against him now, he would make his amends. He just hoped that he had misread the situation. That it wasn’t even that big of a deal. That his worries were unfounded.
It turned out that that wasn’t the case at all. Connor was even angrier than expected when he asked him out for breakfast at the place they had just found on one of their strolls through the city. He almost didn’t let him in, even, making Markus bite back a desperate, little noise of objection. Instead, he tried to keep him from shutting the door again, using both his hand and his words to do so. Connor didn’t seem impressed. It made him swallow thickly. He still tried to send him back home - unable to look at him when he did, though. Probably because he was lying - even if the words he spoke were the truth. Markus didn’t doubt that Connor was busy, but this wasn’t the reason he wasn’t willing to spend his morning with him. The look on his face, so similar to the expression he had seen the night before, spoke volumes when Connor raised his head again to face him. “I need you to leave…”, he said, causing Markus to frown ever so slightly.
His chest began to tighten again, as did his throat, but his hand remained still on the open door, even as the inner tension started rising. If he wanted to, he could keep it all on the inside, seemingly calm in the worst of situations. Only his eyes betrayed him time and again, revealing his feelings of sorrow and unease. When Connor finally gave in, letting him enter his apartment, Markus had almost given up on attempting to rectify the situation. Connor’s words made him feel guiltier than he had the entire night. He was right. That’s what it must have looked like. He had hoped that it wouldn’t - but it had. He had given the man he had fallen so hard for so much grief without even realizing on what scale and now he had to deal with the consequences. “Connor…”, he tried to interrupt him softly, taking a few steps towards him to wrap his fingers around the other’s upper arm, caressing it gently with his thumb.
His head was tilted, his brows pulled together as he watched and listened, tears gathering in his eyes at the sight of how distraught Connor was - how rejected he felt, all thanks to him and his ambiguous behavior. He couldn’t help but pull Connor into his arms, placing his right hand on the back of his head. “I’m sorry. I hurt you.” Markus ran his fingers through the longer strands of his brown hair. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know -” He had hoped Connor wouldn’t even notice. He let him go when Connor turned around, giving him the space he needed, no matter how scary it was or how much it hurt. He had to deal with those emotions now. He had brought this upon himself. Sitting down on the couch, he tried to toughen himself for what he was about to say, not even looking at Connor anymore. “It’s not the fact that he died. It-” Of course his voice would fail him before he had even said anything. He swallowed. “It’s the way he died.”
Markus closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. “I slept next to Carl every night for ten years.” A sad smile accompanied his words. “Every morning, I woke up next to him, waking him with a kiss or a careful touch before going about our daily business. You probably don’t need those details, huh?” His laugh was mirthless, his eyes cast down. He fought the urge to run his fingernails across his scalp. No. He was calm. He would remain that way. He had the resilience. He had to have it. That’s how he had pushed through his loss.“I was used to it. It was normal.” He shook his head ever so slowly, staring at the floor with his brows furrowed. “When I woke up this one November morning, I knew something was off even before I was fully awake. Do you know the smell of death? This distinct combination of… acetone and…”
He frowned harder, waving the memory away with his right hand. “I’m sure you do. You’re a detective, after all.” Markus looked up, automatically pulling the corners of his lips downward as he pressed them together. “I touched him.” Markus looked into Connor’s eyes. “His skin was discolored and cold.” He took a deep breath, his eyes unseeing as his gaze slipped off Connor’s face. “He was gone. Just like that. I was right next to him and didn’t even notice.” He closed his eyes, a bitter, self-ironic smile on his lips that broke into a soft, joyless laugh before he lowered his head and touched the crease between his brows, trying in vain to smoothen it. “I know you’re younger, but…”
Tears were streaming down the palm of his hand. He had never wanted to share this part of his past with anyone. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to. But he loved Connor. He didn’t want to lose him, too. Markus knew there was no way around telling him if he wanted the man to understand his reasons. No, it wasn’t Connor. It wasn’t him, either. It was the way his daily routine had been shattered, the memories tied to falling asleep next to the one he loved and still not being close enough to help him in his last moments.
“No, Connor. It’s not you.”