Work Text:
Fandom: DBH
Prompt: “Quit smiling at me, I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”
Markus is being rude and Simon doesn’t like it.
He wants to have a word with Elijah Kamski. Well, okay, he wants to do that for many, many reasons, but also why in the fuck did he decide to make Markus so goddamn cute.
It’s not fair. It’s really not far because all Markus has to do is tilt his head or smile at Simon and there go Simon’s chances of being functional for the next three hours. Honestly, no other PL600 has the Useless Gay™ protocol, at least not one Simon’s met, which is just rude because now he’s got no one to commiserate with about being a Useless Gay™.
Stupid Markus and his stupid cute face.
Also his stupid way of being super casual about compliments. Seriously, how in the heck is Simon supposed to get anything done when all he has to do is remind Markus he’s got an appointment in ten minutes—which Markus asked him to do, by the way! It’s not like he wasn’t expecting it!—and Markus is smiling at him and telling him he’s amazing? And that’s just for the small things! When they work together on the speeches or the legislation drafts it’s like he’s writing fucking poetry or something. Which would be doubly not fair because not only is he making Simon feel like he’s walking on clouds but he’s talented as heck?
He’s already a painter that can make Simon feel things he’s never even imagined with a few strokes of a brush, now he’s good with words too?
Like he said. Rude.
North is sick of him being a Useless Gay™ too. Hey, listen, Simon’s perfectly self-aware. He knows he’s being a Useless Gay™, he just can’t do anything about it. He can’t do anything about the way his thirium regulator stutters when he manages to surprise a laugh out of Markus, too enthralled by the pure joy on Markus’ face to do anything but smile back. He can’t help it that out of all his friends, Markus comes to him first for help, saying Simon ‘gets it’ and that Simon makes him feel safe. He can’t help it that Markus refuses to get another couch for his office so they end up squished together until Simon can’t tell whose legs are whose.
It definitely doesn’t help that Markus is the only person Simon knows who can take the worst situation and turn it around.
“Simon?” Markus rushes over to him on the ground, curled up, shuddering. “Come here, Simon, you’re alright, shh…”
Simon gasps, palms stinging from when he’d collapsed, trying to get all the errors in his HUD to shut the fuck up and go away. He’s been fine recently, he has, why the fuck is he having a panic attack right now?
Stupid brain.
“Shh, shh,” Markus keeps saying, pulling Simon against him to ease the strain in his shoulders, “there you go…come on, now…”
“I’m fine,” Simon insists stubbornly, trying to get his everything machine back online so he can get back to work, honestly this is so inconvenient, “I’m fine I just need—“
Ah, that’s where the bug is. His fucking throat.
“What do you need,” Markus asks, achingly patient, “what is it, sweetheart?”
Oh, yeah, has Simon not mentioned Markus’ really really rude habit of using pet names?
He just…uses them. They’re part of his everyday vocabulary. Sure, he asks if people are okay with it before just going ham but still. He’s all ‘sweethearts’ and ‘darlings’ and ‘honeys’ and they have this thing where it feels like they soak through Simon’s skin, warming him from the inside. He feels so fuzzy and he’s got absolutely no idea how to deal with it.
“You can tell me, sweetheart—“ oh yeah, he’s still on the floor in Markus’ arms, right— “you don’t have to be afraid of asking for something. Not with me.”
Stupid Markus and his stupid compassion.
“Nothing,” Simon manages through his uncooperative throat, “just…just gotta get through it.”
“You don’t have to do it alone,” comes the gentle reassurance, “I’m right here.”
“I know,” Simon huffs, letting his body fall into Markus, “I know.”
He feels Markus turn his head, looking at the desk, then landing somewhere behind him. The embrace shifts, bringing him in close.
“Were you working on the child legislation?”
Oh, that’s right. That’s what happened.
Simon nods. “I think it, uh, reminded me of—“
“Shh,” Markus murmurs, hand landing on his chest and rubbing in soft, slow, circles, “you don’t have to say it, honey, you’re working yourself up again.”
Ah, that’s why his HUD is screaming about oxygen levels.
“That’s it,” Markus encourages, still rubbing Simon’s chest, “just keep doing that, honey, you’re alright.”
Mm. Now he’s breathless for a different reason.
“Let’s make a trade,” Markus murmurs and Simon’s eyes fall closed. This. This is the rudest thing Markus does. Whenever he has an episode, and Markus is nearby, he makes this trade.
“I will trade you,” Markus says quietly, voice almost enough to lull Simon to sleep, “one of your memories for one I have of a young tree covered with butterflies.”
Simon goes limp in Markus’ arms.
“A hundred blue morphos,” comes the gentle murmur, “the same color as your eyes, covering each of the branches, the trunk, the pale pink petals. You can watch their wings gleaming in the golden sunlight.”
Has Simon mentioned Markus is really good with words?
“You glow, Simon, you glow in the butterfly cloud. You are golden.”
A hand cards gently through Simon’s hair. Simon relaxes back into the touch.
“I will trade you this one moment, of warm days stretching into endless evening, for something that hurts you.” Markus’ hand runs along the underside of Simon’s jaw. “Pain for butterflies.”
Simon lets out a whimper when Markus clutches him tighter.
“Look,” Markus says, the smile evident in his voice, “you’ve made the trade. You can take back your memory any time you want, but you can let it be smaller and let me hold it away from you for a little while. Look at the butterflies, Simon.”
See? Now he’s all pliant and content in Markus’ lap, letting him brush away all the anxieties until he can’t move from the peaceful glow. Rude.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his head slumped against Markus’ shoulder.
“Of course, sweetheart,” Markus says instantly, letting him sit up, that stupid, soft, gorgeous smile on his face.
Simon huffs and looks away.
“What’s wrong?” Ah, shit, he’s made Markus concerned. “Simon, what’s the matter?”
“No, no,” Simon mutters, “I’m good. I’m good, I promise.”
“Mhmm.”
“I am!”
“No, I’m sure you are.”
“Markus!” Simon looks back to reassure him that he can stop being sarcastic now, but there’s Markus, just sitting on the floor, still smiling at him.
He looks so fond, what the heck is this garbage.
“Quit smiling at me,” Simon tries to grumble but it definitely just comes out as a whine, “I can’t stop messing up my sentences when you look at me like that.”
“Oh?” Markus just raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were always like that.”
“Yeah, well, that’s ‘cause you’re always smiling at me.”
“Well, you’re worth smiling at.”
The stupid bastard has the audacity to chuckle at him when Simon employs the rest of the Useless Gay™ protocol and flushes bright blue.
“Aww.”
“Shut up,” Simon groans, shoving Markus lightly away from him, “leave me alone.”
“But you’re so pretty, Si.”
“Let me be a useless gay in peace, Markus.”
“No.” Markus pulls him forward and wraps him in another hug, planting a kiss on his bright blue cheek. “Mine.”
Simon squirms, trying to get away from this stupid person making him blush all the time but only succeeding in toppling them both to the floor. And then of course the stupid bastard who has stupid reflexes and stupid strength just rolls them over so he’s lying on top of Simon. Stupid.
Markus laces his fingers through Simon’s and draws his hands up by his head so Simon can’t hide how fucking bright his face is right now. The bastard just keeps smiling at him, he doesn’t expect Simon to be able to talk right now, does he? Rude.
“You’re my useless gay,” Markus says, giving Simon another kiss on his forehead, “don’t you go anywhere.”
“Markus,” Simon whines, trying to get away but not that hard, stupid Useless Gay™ protocol— “you’re being rude.”
“Yes,” the stupid bastard says, leaning down and pecking Simon’s nose, “I am.”
Then he fucking grins right in Simon’s face so of course, he’s going to grin back, stupid giddy smile making his flushed cheeks scrunch up.
He won’t even kiss Simon properly to put him out of his misery.
Rude.