Chapter Text
Marko hauled his backpack downstairs, shoving it between Missy’s twelve bags and Bill’s equally stuffed backpack. They both looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Their dad had made the entirely pointed decision to marry one of their old classmates from high school, more specifically Marko’s old English tutor, Missy. Bill was trying to respect her wishes to be called ‘Mom’ but Marko couldn’t bring himself to. To him she was just Missy, and she most likely always would be. Besides, Bill had some lingering crush on her, and that was making him act all weird around her. Marko had never gotten the hype about her one way or the other. He didn’t really care. Girls like Missy weren’t his type, whatever his type was. He hadn’t quite figured that out yet, but he would know when he saw them.
“Everyone packed?” Their father called out from the driver’s seat, Missy next to him fixing her lip gloss.
“Most definitely,” Bill said, crawling into the car as Marko got in on the other side.
“Yes,” Marko said quietly, settling in to stare out the window for their long drive to Santa Carla. Their father had recently purchased some sort of cabin out there, or cottage, whatever. But he was promising them a fun vacation to a small town with apparently a killer boardwalk scene. Marko didn’t really want to go, but at least he would have some peace. Because it was a family trip, meaning no Ted ‘Theodore’ Logan.
At the heart of it Marko didn’t mind Ted, but since he had to share a room with his twin brother Bill, and he was always hanging out with Ted, that meant that Marko was always hanging out with Ted, whether he liked it or not. Marko wasn’t one for making friends, he was always more reserved, kept to himself, and so of course his twin had to be the exact opposite, confident and outgoing. Bill took all the social skills Marko wished he had, and that left him alone. Well, as alone as he could be with the two of them always around but not interacting with him. But as they began their drive, Marko noticed that they weren’t heading to the highway. They were heading to-
“Are you serious Dad? Ted’s coming?” Marko piped up as they pulled up to his house, where Ted ran out with a duffel bag as Bill waved towards him. Those two were like peas in a pod in the most annoying way. Marko was pretty sure they were dating, or at least wanted to, but then again, everytime they hugged for more than two seconds they called each other fags, so it was all up for debate.
“My dear brother,” Bill began, about to give him the same old sob story, “you know that Ted isn't inclined to family ventures such as ours, and as my best friend, it’s only natural that I ask him to accompany us on this exciting trip.”
Marko turned, glaring at his brother a bit. “Can’t you spend one day without him? He’s not family.”
At this Bill’s eyes narrowed a bit, his mouth opening and closing a bit, not picking up what Marko was really implying, but still picking up on the gist of his point. But before he could reply Ted was opening the door and crawling over Bill to put himself between the twins, making Marko turn back to the window. The conversation was over, and the matter was settled, but neither of them were happy about it.
The drive was long, boring, and overall uneventful. But as they finally pulled up to Santa Carla, as they passed the welcome sign, Marko spied an odd piece of graffiti on the back. ‘Murder capital of the world’ it said. That couldn’t possibly be right. Some kind of stupid practical joke or something. As they drove through the town it was obvious that it had seen better days, and that its local population were cool as fuck. It was a punk town, through and through. All the tourists looked more like Bill, since he was prone to bright colours. Marko was simple next to his brother, with a similar outfit but overall different energy. Bill’s pants were brighter, and he always had his purple zip-up either on or around his waist. And the stupid white belt he wore above his jeans, not threaded through. Marko only had his white crop top and some regular jeans, basic, nothing special. But if he had the money, while they were here, he might get some leather, definitely a jacket. Then he might stand out besides his demeanor and hair. Marko had a mullet, the other major difference between him and Bill. If he pinned it in a ponytail, head-on they would look exactly the same, but otherwise the hair was the giveaway. Their faces were interchangeable, a mirror, obviously.
They drove through the rest of town up to the cottage, and the second they were parked Marko was out of the car and grabbing his bag, off to find hopefully his own room for once. He climbed up the stairs and passed the master bedroom, heading down the hall to see a room with two separate beds and one single. But suddenly he was torn. Ted was the guest, so he should probably get the single room. But then again, what was Bill going to say? That would determine it. Marko hadn’t wanted to say it, but he had been jealous of Ted for weeks now. Before, Bill and Marko had been closer. And Ted had been around a long time, but ever since his dad threatened to send him off to military school or whatever, the two had become attached at the hip. But Bill was Marko’s brother, not Ted’s. The two of them came up, and Marko waited, leaning on the wall between the two rooms.
“Which room?” He asked, looking expectantly at his brother.
“Well, Ted, which room would you like to adjourn to for the evening?” Bill offered, like the gracious host he was. Marko glared the slightest bit as he waited.
“Hmm.” He looked between his options. “I think that if we want to stay up creating our music, and to not disturb dear Marko here, then perhaps we should take this room,” and he gestured to the double room.
“I agree with this decision,” Bill said, looking back to his brother as he nodded. So, that was how it was. He should have figured. But it's fine. At least this way he would have some peace while he slept. And hell, maybe they would finally get it over with and kiss each other since Marko wouldn’t be occupying the same space as them.
He wordlessly turned and slammed the door, giving himself privacy as he tossed his bag and went to sit on the windowsill, waiting for the sun to go down. The boardwalk opened later, as the sun went down. Or, at least, that was when it got good. So they were going to check it out after dinner. Marko stayed in his room sulking until dinner, not moving, just waiting, and contemplating. He shouldn’t be mad or jealous, but he was. It was always so hard for him to just talk to people, because everyone knew he wasn't his brother. He was ‘the other one’. Which was ironic, since he was the older twin. Usually the older one would be the more important one. It was probably because Bill came before Marko in the alphabet. He sulked as he ate dinner, the conversation stilted and boring. At least, what he paid attention to. Bill tried to get him to join in, but he didn’t take the bait, letting the silence between them draw out. Eventually he gave up, he and Ted exchanging a glance. Maybe they had finally noticed his feelings, up until this point having almost ignored how he really felt. Especially since they formed the band.
Before Bill and Ted’s band, the Wyld Stallyns, Marko was prone to drumming in the garage. He and Bill had been gifted instruments to appease them in the marriage of their stepmom, and Marko had no problem picking it up. Bill was having trouble with guitar. Ted also had a guitar that he had gotten last Christmas. So, the next logical step was to form a band, except Marko didn’t want to be in a band, so now his drums sat abandoned in the garage since the two of them spent so much time in there filming themselves day after day. Marko preferred to not be on camera. Sometimes he wished he was truly invisible. But then again, you can’t make friends when you’re invisible.
After dinner they headed down to the boardwalk, and the lights were shining, people were screaming on the roller coaster, and it seemed like a pretty cool scene. Their dad and stepmom immediately left them alone, so it was just the three of them. And Bill and Ted started to take off, making Marko have to run after them. It was going to be two against one all night, wasn't it? Marko rolled his eyes. After maybe an hour of following after them, Marko was getting sick of this. He reached out and stopped his brother from chasing Ted around a corner. “Billy boy, can I talk to you for a second?”
He used his nickname for his brother, trying to show him it was serious. He only used it to make a point. To emphasize. “Yeah, what’s on your mind Marky Man?” Bill’s nickname for him, equally as stupid, but equally as meaningful.
“Do you ever think you spend too much time with Ted?”
“No, do you think that?”
“Kind of, yeah. I mean, it’s like you can’t go a day without seeing him. Which means I have to see him. It’s exhausting. Can’t there ever be a day where it’s just the two of us, like it used to be?”
Bill began to nod the slightest bit. “Ah, I see the quandary we find ourselves in brother. You want me to choose between you and Ted. But I cannot bring myself to do that.”
Marko sighed. “I’m not asking you to choose, I just mean, it’s like I’m second best in your eyes compared to him. But I’ve been around longer than him. I’m your brother, I’m family, he isn’t.”
“You’re jealous.”
“You know what, yeah, I am jealous, I’ll fucking say it Billy. You have friends, I don’t, and no matter what I do nothing changes. So maybe I want my twin brother, the person I shared the womb with for nine months, to be there for me at least. Is that too much to ask? Because apparently it is with you.”
Bill crossed his arms. “You speak as if I'm at fault for this Marko. It’s not my fault you can’t become formally acquainted with people.”
“Maybe if you didn’t hog all the attention then I could have the chance to try! But I clearly can’t compete with you.” As he spoke Ted was calling out for Bill, coming back around the corner, both of them looking over to him. “Have fun with your friend Billy, maybe I’ll go make some friends of my own tonight, see how well they treat me. Because you’re a shitty brother, and I hope I never have to see your face again as long as I live.”
Bill scoffed a bit, almost looking ready to cry at Marko’s words. Yeah they were harsh, but he was frankly sick of it all. He was miserable, so maybe for a second his brain felt he needed to pass the misery along, to take some of the weight off of his own shoulders. “Good luck in the mirror maze then.”
As Ted caught up Marko turned and stormed off, almost expecting Bill and Ted to come after him instead of him following, but he didn’t hear their footsteps behind him. He just walked, going nowhere really, wandering, and losing himself in the lights and the sound and the people. He was so lost in it all he wasn’t looking where he was going, and he suddenly crashed into something solid, making him trip back. He almost fell, but then someone reached out, grabbing onto his wrist to keep him steady. Marko looked at the person attached to the hand, mesh shirt, sick black jacket, long puffed out blond hair. Ok, there was no contest, this was Marko’s type. Whoever this guy was, he was it. And Marko hoped he wasn’t drooling as he stared at him.
“Woah, sorry little man, didn’t see you there,” he said, his voice velvety smooth. He smiled, and Marko smiled, and then he was tugged up, back to his feet, the hand slowly leaving his wrist.
“It’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” he said, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, looking away almost shyly. He was a fucking doofus, this guy didn’t want to waste his time talking to him. But the guy tried to lean back into his vision, catch his gaze, pulling Marko’s full attention as he looked back up at him.
“Have you been crying?” He tilted his head, slight concern passing across his face.
Marko wiped at the tear tracks streaking down his face. “No, men don’t cry.” But the blond could see right through him, and he tilted his head the other way now, waiting for the real answer. “Yeah, I was. I just got into a fight with my brother. It was stupid. I’m stupid, he’s stupid, it’s all stupid and I just want to forget about him for tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” Two more boys had appeared behind tall, blond, and handsome, one with dark hair and features and one with a platinum blond mullet and wearing all black. “We can help you forget. Come hang with us tonight, you’ll love it.”
Marko wasn’t sure whether he should, since he didn’t know these guys, and they were all probably a couple years older than him at least, but then he figured these might be the first people he had ever encountered who actually wanted to be his friends. They didn’t have Bill to compare him to. They wanted Marko for once. And it felt good to be wanted.
“Alright, let’s hang. What did you have in mind?”
The boys looked between each other, their smiles getting wider. “We have a place, you’ll love it. But it’s a bit of a journey. Hope you aren’t afraid of motorbikes.” The group began to move, the hot one putting his arm around Marko’s shoulder as they led him away from the main boardwalk, towards their trio of souped up dirt bikes. The leader settled onto his, the darker one, and then the blond, leaving Marko standing there slightly awkwardly.
“Well? You gotta pick one of us, otherwise you’ll have to run to keep up,” the leader teased.
Marko glanced over to the blond, who smiled at him, his eyes sparkling almost as much as his teeth. Without words he held out his hand, and Marko took it, settling onto the motorbikes behind him as he guided Marko’s hand to his waistline, where the bottom of his mesh shirt was slightly torn, leaving Marko touching bare skin. Then they took off on the bikes, and they were fast, making Marko curl his arms around the boy in front of him, his hands threading under the shirt as he held on for dear life, eliciting a laugh from his driver. He could feel it, and it made Marko blush. But mostly his eyes were closed, slightly worried about their speed and lack of helmets, and the sort of reckless abandon they carried, but they seemed confident in their abilities, so he trusted it.
They drove across the beach, away from the boardwalk, farther and farther from his brother, his family, from it all. And then they stopped at the edge of this cliff by an old lighthouse. There was a stairway down to the beach, and they all scrambled down it, the blond one leading him with a hand in his, his smile inviting, calming him, and making him have to fight to hide the redness in his cheeks.
Once Marko was led inside he was amazed to see the remnant of some old hotel resort that had fallen through a faultline or something. He was too busy marveling at the place to really pay attention to the leader, David’s, words. The leader was David, the darker-haired one was Dwayne, and the blond god was Paul. Paul.
Once they had introduced themselves, they all came to crowd around him. “So, who are you?”
“I’m…Marko.”
“Well,” David said, pulling a bottle of something from behind his back, “cheers to our new friend, Marko.” He held the bottle out to him, and Marko didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t drinking age, and these were strangers. But then again, he wanted to forget for a second, and this would be a great distraction. So, he took the bottle, and he took a big swig. It was sweet, almost unnaturally so, but with this odd metallic undertone. The sweet almost buried it, but not completely. But as soon as he drank, he didn’t care anymore, because Paul’s smile was back, and Marko would do anything to see that smile.
For a while they goofed around the hotel, but it seemed like the boys were waiting for something from him, all watching him intently. And then Marko felt it. He felt sick, like he was going to throw up, so Paul brought him over towards the opening to the sea. He got a little freaked out, wondering if he had trusted them too soon. They wouldn’t toss him, would they? But Paul only grabbed his hair, almost delicately moving it out of the way. “If you gotta heave it’s ok. It’s a pretty strong brew we make down here.”
“You guys must think I’m a weakling, huh? Can’t take one drink without getting sick?”
Paul chuckled a little. “No, we get it. We all felt sick the first time we drank it too. It’ll pass. It’ll make you feel sluggish, but we’ll fix it tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow night? Does this mean you want to hang out with me more?”
“Yeah, why not?”
Marko shrugged, the action making him lean over a bit, the nausea getting worse. “I’ve never really had people who wanted to spend their time with me. They all prefer my brother. It just sounded weird to hear you want to see me again.”
Paul’s free hand came up to squeeze against Marko’s shoulder. “I don’t know who your brother is, but I think if I met him I would still prefer you. You’re something special, I know it. Especially once we get you fitted to match us”
Marko nodded a bit, the nausea beginning to pass, letting him stand upright, leaning against the stone wall as the sounds of the waves below sort of lulled him. “What am I? A Ken doll?”
Another chuckle. “No, but we have a thing going. How do you feel about leather?” He leaned over him, one hand placed next to Marko's head, Paul’s smile making his knees weak.
“Leather sounds...good.” And then Paul was leaning closer, and Marko wasn’t sure whether he was dreaming or not.
“You know what sounds even better right now?” He asked, his mouth maybe an inch from Marko’s, his eyes piercing him as they stared at each other.
“What,” he spit out, his breath against Paul’s lips.
“You.” And then he closed the final distance, their lips colliding as Marko closed his eyes, relishing the feelings he was feeling right now. And then it all felt like a dream. Paul effortlessly picked Marko up, his legs wrapping around him as Marko was brought over to a bed lying somewhere in the room. In flashes and blinks, something like a hazy gloss over everything he looked at now, Paul was above him, and his jacket and shirt were gone. Marko felt like he didn't have anything on anymore, but he didn’t care, because Paul was warming his body with kisses all over it. And then David was there, and Dwayne, all of them above him and around him as he felt hands tracing across his body, stimulating them as Marko had never felt better. A hand traced down his chest, around his neck, cupping his jaw as someone else kissed him, everyone working in tandem to make him feel good. And by god, it was fucking working.