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The sun beamed down outside the apartment’s window as Marshall placed his singular box on his boyfriend’s living room couch. He looked around, taking in the décor for a minute. Of course, Gary still has a sweet spot poster up in his living room. He still had the dream, even though Queenie had won this battle.
“Do you need me to help you with anymore of the boxes?” Gary peeked his head in through the door, staring at the dreadhead with a small smile on his face.
“No, no, this is it.” Marshall gestured to the singular box that still sat on the couch he’d just placed it on.
Gary raised an eyebrow and came fully through the door, closing it behind him and taking off his coat before placing it on the rack nearby. “Just one box?” He seemed skeptical, like he was waiting for the boy to say that he was kidding.
“Yeah,” Marshall glanced over. “I don’t have a lot of stuff. Between all of the shit that Queenie practically stole and the stuff that mom won’t let me get from her house, anyway. Plus I don’t have the money for anything else.”
“So, it’s just your bass and… what’s in there again?” Gary pointed to the box. Marshall sighed and grabbed out a swiss army knife, cutting it open to reveal a few clothes, a pair of sunglasses, and his toiletries.
“I live by the backpacker motto. Pack light.” Marshall shrugged. “So where am I gonna be sleeping again?”
“Oh, uh,” Gary seemed sheepish all of a sudden, a light pink enveloping his cheeks. “So, I kinda lied about a spare bedroom? It’s only my bed. I mean, we can get you a separate bed if you want, it’s not too hard, but-“
“Buttercup.” Marshall placed his hand on the panicking boy’s shoulder, his touch soothing the other immediately as if his hands were laced with some sort of magic. “I’m happy to share a bed unless you’re uncomfortable with it.”
“Really?” Gary’s eyes grew stars.
“Really,” Marshall confirmed, turning around with a smile as he picked up his box again. “As long as I get morning cuddles.”
“You cheesy little-“ Gary tried to get out an insult, but he couldn’t help the way he giggled at the comment. “Fine.” He mumbled after a minute, taking the box from his boyfriend.
“You love it when I’m cheesy, you said it yourself,” Marshall shrugged. He then half-bowed, leaning over towards where the stairs were in Gary’s apartment. “Lead the way, mr baking protégé.”
“I hate you,” Gary mumbled, not meaning the words at all with burning pink cheeks at this point. “Come on, sappy, let me show you to my-“ He paused. “Our room.”
“Ooooh, I do like the sound of that.” Marshall followed his boyfriend up the stairs with a bounce in his step. This might actually turn out alright.
-
Marshall was putting his clothes away in his boyfriend’s dresser with said man helping him by hanging his coats in the closet. After the last of the shirts were put away, he held up his bass and quirked an eyebrow.
“Pretty boy?”
“Hm?” Gary turned his head, used to the petname by now. “Oh right, your bass. I don’t have a stand for it, shit.”
“I lost mine because Queenie took it when she stole our plot of land. I don’t wanna damage it.” Marshall held the bass to his chest, frowning a little bit. “This thing is like my child.”
“I’m sure we can find a stand for it somewhere. Should be easy enough, right? I mean, there’s the guitar shop down the road,” Gary took a couple steps towards Marshall, pecking his cheek. “We’ll make this work.”
“The same way you’re making those cookies you put in the oven earlier burn? It’s been more than 20 minutes.” Marshall tried to distract from the solemn mood.
Gary gasped, his eyes bulging. “Damn it!” He rushed downstairs in a panic. “Be right back, babe!”
Marshall laughed a little as he watched his man run down the stairs. It was nice to know that someone cared enough to actually try to make something work with him- someone who was good at not talking about his feelings. His childhood messed him up when it comes to being honest about them.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, snapping him out of whatever mood he was in. As he looked at who was calling, the contact name made his stomach drop. Birthgiver. That was his mother. He didn’t need that headache right now, especially when he was kind of having fun.
“Okay, I got them out just in time!” Gary suddenly came back, and Marshall quickly declined the call, but still, the pink-haired-boy noticed the look on his face. “You okay there, babe?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, just… getting used to this.” Marshall lied through his teeth, keeping his hands crossed behind his back as he took in Gary’s room. Anything to not have to go back to his mother.
Gary didn’t buy the lie for one second. His eyes narrowed, but as he watched his boyfriend almost squirm under the accusing gaze, he let up. “Well, come judge these cookies for me. I need to know if they look okay.”
The pink-haired-boy turned and began to make his way down the stairs before noticing that Marshall hesitated in following.
“You coming?”
Marshall snapped out of it after a second. “Yeah, yeah,” He sighed, trailing behind him and trying to shake off the worry in his tone, putting on his signature smirk again in hopes that Gary wouldn’t notice the worry in his eyes. “I’m coming.”
Please, universe, whatever the hell is up there, just let me have a good time for once without being tortured by all the stupid shit I’ve done. Marshall pleaded in his head before heading downstairs.