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Old Mercenaries Never Die—They Just Get Mushy

Summary:

Marcus (Classic Heavy) and Bea (Classic Pyro) have retired to an Italian villa.

Work Text:

Retirement suited them better than Bea had imagined. She lounged by the pool with a cold beer, shaded by an enormous umbrella. If Marcus wanted to join her, most of their things needed to be Heavy sized. Marcus had been up before her, out running an errand or something. It wasn't unusual for him to be up before her, but it was odd for him to go anywhere before noon.

She'd had a lazy breakfast and made her way to the pool for a swim and to read and maybe nap.

She heard the low rumble of their truck's engine as Marcus pulled into the courtyard. The sound of him banging in the kitchen and several trips to and fro, and then his massive shadow eclipsed even the umbrella. He had a strange, hesitant smile and appeared to be blushing, though it might have been sitting in the sun on the drive to town. 

Bea squinted up at him with a grin. This was suspiciously like his reaction to her birthday, but that wasn't for another two months.

"Hey baby," she sat up, leaning against the back of the lawn chair.

“Hey Bea. I got that...floating cheese...you like.” Marcus made a face, crouching beside her chair. Crouching was an old habit—when not a lot of furniture was strong enough to support him and he didn’t want to tower over everyone, he didn’t have a lot of alternatives.        

"Thanks," her suspicion was audible. "What's the occasion?"   

Marcus blinked, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Wh-what do you mean?” He’d always been terrible at lying to her—or even skirting the truth—and they both knew it.

"You hate this cheese. And you left early to get some for me?" she couldn't help smiling. Marcus was such a dope sometimes.

Marcus flushed. “I didn’t just get the cheese; we needed a bunch of stuff, and I happened to see it.” He shrugged, looking down and away from her, bright red to the tips of his ears. “I woke up early and you were still asleep and I just felt...restless.”

They had a small exercise room that he used often, and Bea swam almost every day, but he hadn’t felt like lifting weights and he was much too...dense...to be much of a swimmer.

"Alright, alright," she laughed. He was red-faced and she knew he was hiding something. "You need to spar or something, get out some energy?"

"No!" He swallowed, trying to control his expression. "No, I just...that's why I went out this morning. That's all."

"Suit yourself," she shrugged. "Why don't you pull up a chair, baby. That can't be easy on the knees." It was getting harder and harder to ignore the fact that they were old. Bea's hips were not what they used to be, she was glad they didn't have to run around a battlefield anymore; swimming helped keep her in shape.

Marcus nodded, relieved both at the prospect of sitting—now that she mentioned it, his knees were starting to ache—and that she seemed willing to let the subject drop. For now. It didn’t seem like she remembered what day it was—or she was wilfully ignoring it. He’d just have to sneak off later and dispose of his surprise. It was stupid; he shouldn’t have gotten it in the first place.

Bea watched his face fall and redden again. He was being obstinate, not telling her what he was up to. She wasn’t a fan of surprises, but Marcus couldn’t help himself sometimes. And at this point, she did trust his surprises to be things she’d enjoy.

She sighed. “What is it, pet?”

Marcus sighed; no point delaying the inevitable, not once Bea had an idea solidly fixed in her mind. “...it’s Valentine’s Day...” he mumbled, still not looking at her. If anything, his face was even redder.

“Oh!” she laughed. “Fuck, that’s what this is about. So,” she leaned over the arm of her lounger, putting an arm on his and resting her head against his shoulder, looking up at him. “what’d you get me?”

“I’ll be right back.” Standing, Marcus ducked from beneath the umbrella and went into the house. He returned a moment later holding a small terracotta flowerpot. Inside was a single lily, red and orange and yellow. “It...reminded me of...” he murmured, waving his hand vaguely, making the head of the flower bob and wave.

Bea stood, getting up on her tiptoes and tugging him down for a kiss. “I like it. You’re taking care of it, though, or else it won’t survive the week,” she admitted. She was the opposite of a green thumb. The lily was sweet; it looked like fire and of course Marcus had thought of her on Valentine’s Day. And of course, she’d had no idea it was Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t like her to be sappy, but she felt a little stab of regret. He got her so much and took such good care of her. And he enjoyed it, he needed her as much as she needed him, but this sort of thing seemed to be getting more important to Marcus. He always got extra desserts for them on their anniversary, and on birthdays.

“I didn’t get you anything.”

He shrugged, handing her the pot and allowing her to pull him down, blushing furiously. “They said we could plant it. I think. That or...something about a piano, maybe?” Marcus’ grasp of Italian still wasn’t very good, and the area they’d settled in was so isolated—intentionally so—that not many of the locals spoke English. He usually struggled at least a little when he went into town without Bea, but...he’d wanted get her something.

She put the flowerpot down, pushing him gently down onto the lounger and sitting with him. “You big sap,” she kissed his cheek.

“Yeah. You don’t mind?” The lounger creaked ominously, but held his weight.

“Nah. Wanna hear something sappy about me?” she offered.

Marcus’ eyes widened. “Really?”

Bea laughed—of course that was unbelievable to him. “Yep.” She leaned in really close and whispered in his ear. “You were my first kiss.”

Marcus’ eyes widened even farther. “No...”

“Mhm. I mean, you weren’t my first in lots of ways, but I’d never kissed anyone before you.”

“...can I tell you something sappy?”

“Of course you can, Marcus.”

“...you were my first kiss, too.”

“Really?” she sounded surprised. “I thought you’d had, you know, girlfriends and such.”

Marcus laughed. “Not...like that. Yeah. Not until you.” He laughed again. “It was actually pretty close between you and Katsu, I think.”

“I’m glad it was me,” she admitted. “And I’m glad it was you.”

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