
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/195152.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_Brotherhood_2:_Young_Warlocks_(2001)
  Relationship:
      Harlan_Ratcliff/Marcus_Ratner
  Additional Tags:
      Barebacking
  Series:
      Part 17 of Aftermath
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-05-05 Words: 2233
****** Down the Road ******
by carolinecrane
Summary
     He's starting to think this might be for real.
Six weeks. He's not marking the days off on a calendar or anything, but he
can't help counting every one, and by the time they get to six weeks he thinks
this thing between them might actually be real. As in Harlan might really want
him around, might think of Marcus as more than just a replacement for Randall.
As more than just something to do, and that's the part Marcus has the hardest
time believing.
He doesn't get why Harlan likes him, why he wants Marcus around when he could
have…anyone. But it's Marcus' bed he's stretched out on, tie loose around his
neck and shoes off and for once Marcus isn't worried about his roommate walking
in on them. That's because his roommate went home for his brother's Bar Mitzvah
or something, but Marcus doesn't tell Harlan that. He doesn't bring up the fact
that they've got the room to themselves all afternoon – all weekend if they
want – because he likes it just like this.
Just hanging out together, Harlan's arm tucked behind his head and Marcus
propped up on his elbows next to him. He likes stealing occasional glances at
Harlan to find the other boy looking right back at him, likes grinning just to
watch Harlan grin back and he even likes when Harlan makes some lame comment
about the history chapter they're supposed to be reading. He likes the way
Harlan's thigh is pressed against his, the way his heel digs into Marcus' ankle
on one side like Harlan just wants to touch him. And the weirdest part of all
is that he's pretty sure that's true; another thing he doesn't get, but he's
not going to argue about it.
He moves his leg experimentally, rolling just a little away and right on cue
Harlan presses closer. Marcus isn't even sure he knows what he's doing, but
he's not going to bring it up because he likes that Harlan wants to be close to
him. He likes the heavy weight of Harlan against his side, likes the way they
fit together and the fact that he doesn't have to pretend it's an accident when
his hand brushes Harlan's side as he flips a page in his history book.
If he wanted to he could lean up and kiss Harlan right now, just lean over and
press their lips together, and Harlan wouldn't even ask what Marcus thought he
was doing. He wouldn't say anything at all, he'd just slide his hand into
Marcus' hair and tilt his head just a little to get the perfect angle. And
maybe Harlan's thinking the same thing Marcus is, because when he looks up
Harlan's watching him like he's waiting for Marcus to make a move.
"What?"
"Spring break's week after next, right?"
"Yeah," Marcus answers, doing his best to keep his expression neutral because
he doesn't want to think about spring break. He never wants to go home to his
parents' house, but he wants to go even less this time because it means a whole
week away from Harlan. A whole week for Harlan to think about what they're
doing, to remember exactly who he's sleeping with and maybe change his mind.
"You going home?"
"Can't stay here," Marcus says, shrugging like it doesn't really matter. "They
close the dorms for the week."
"That doesn't mean you have to go home."
And he shouldn't really be surprised, because he's spent a few weekends at
Harlan's house, but he's still not expecting the invitation. At least he hopes
it's an invitation, but he tries not to let it show when he glances at Harlan
again. "What about your parents?"
He knows better than to ask, because he's met Harlan's parents enough times to
know that Harlan's right when he says they don't care. They don't care what he
does or who he does it with, and it's not like they ignore Harlan all the time,
but they don't seem to think it's weird that he brings Marcus home to stay in
his room every other weekend. To sleep in his bed, and they have to know that
part. But either they don't care or they don't want to think about it, and
that's just fine with Marcus.
Right on cue Harlan rolls his eyes, shaking his head as Marcus gives up on his
history book and lets it fall on the floor. "I keep telling you they don't
care."
"Yeah, I know," Marcus says, rolling onto his side to look at Harlan, and his
heart still skips a beat whenever Harlan grins at him like that. "I keep
forgetting they're not like my parents."
"You wanna come home with me this weekend?" Harlan asks, reaches for Marcus'
tie and tugging him a little closer. "You could refresh your memory or
something."
Harlan's grin is weirdly distorted from this close up, and Marcus finds himself
smiling back as he lets Harlan pull him into a kiss. He breathes in the scent
of expensive cologne and Harlan's shampoo, and it still seems strange that he
recognizes the scent. But he likes it, likes all the weird little things he
knows about Harlan. His hand lands on Harlan's chest, pushing at his buttons
until he works Harlan's shirt halfway open. Harlan's skin is warm under his
hand, smooth and firm and when he finds a nipple Harlan gasps and pulls back to
look at him.
"Why aren't you freaking out about your roommate?"
"He's gone," Marcus answers, leaning forward to press hot kisses to the
underside of Harlan's jaw. "Won't be back until Sunday night."
As soon as he gets the words out he's moving, falling backwards and it takes
him a second to realize Harlan's pushing him. Then he's flat on his back and
looking up, blinking at Harlan's familiar grin. "Why didn't you say so earlier,
Marcus?"
All he can do is laugh at that, but it doesn't matter because Harlan's not
interested in an answer. What he's interested in is getting Marcus out of his
clothes as quickly as possible, and by the time Marcus' uniform is scattered
across the floor he's hard and arching up in a vain effort to find a little
contact. Harlan's hand lands on his hip, holding him against the mattress and
ignoring Marcus' frustrated groan.
For a second he just looks, gaze wandering the length of Marcus' body and he
should be used to this by now, but it still makes him blush. He reaches for
Harlan's tie, tugging it off his neck and tossing it on the floor before he
turns back to Harlan's shirt. And Harlan's still watching him, but at least now
he's got something to do with his hands. It doesn't make him feel any less
conspicuous, but it gives him something to look at, and eventually he relaxes
enough to let his blush subside.
"You didn't answer me," Harlan says, voice low and Marcus' heart skips a beat
at his expression.
"What?"
His hands are on Harlan's uniform pants just above the button, fingers warm
from the heat of Harlan's body and he's having a hard time processing actual
thoughts, but he's pretty sure Harlan's laughing at him. Not that he cares,
because Harlan's half naked and hovering above him, gaze wandering the length
of Marcus' neck like he's trying to decide which part of his skin to mark
first.
"Are you going home for spring break?"
"Oh," he says, then, "no," because he thought they'd already settled this, but
if Harlan wants to hear him say it he will. "Unless you didn't mean what you
said."
"I always mean what I say," Harlan answers, mouth a lot closer now and Marcus
leans up to kiss him again. Harlan's lips part under his, a low groan catching
in his throat when Marcus gets his pants open and slides a hand inside. He
thinks maybe Harlan's going to let Marcus make him come just like this, leaning
over him and thrusting into Marcus' grip. But way too soon he's pulling away,
kicking the rest of his clothes off to land at the foot of the bed before he
settles on top of Marcus and presses their mouths together again.
He thrusts lazily, like they've got all the time in the world and technically
they do. There's nobody to bother them, no one to stop by and knock on the door
or even wonder where they are. If anybody knows they're in here they don't
care, and the thought makes Marcus tighten his grip on Harlan's shoulders to
pull him impossibly closer. He hooks one leg around Harlan's waist, rocking up
in time to his thrusts and it feels good, but it's not even close to enough.
Please, he thinks, might even say it out loud because as soon as he thinks it
Harlan's tightening his grip and flipping them over, and suddenly he's looking
down at Harlan's intense expression. His eyes are dark and it's hard to believe
that expression is because of Marcus, but he can't think about it for long
because Harlan's sliding one hand between them to grip Marcus' cock.
"Tell me what you want, Marcus." Whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down
his spine and he thrusts hard into Harlan's grip, squeezing his eyes shut
against the urge to come. And he's not even sure how to answer, because he
wants everything at once. Wants Harlan inside him, fingers working him open and
then his cock, wants Harlan's mouth on him but his hand feels too good to give
up and he isn't sure how to say any of it.
A few seconds later it doesn't matter, because he's tensing against Harlan and
coming, wet heat coating Harlan's fingers and his stomach and he still wants
more. Wants come-coated fingers pressing inside him, moaning when Harlan pushes
two fingers in. He's still trying to catch his breath, but he forces himself to
relax anyway, pushing back against Harlan's hand until he's all the way in. He
leans forward for a hard kiss, teeth clashing and the taste of Harlan on his
tongue and it's not that hard to believe Harlan wants him around for a whole
week when he's kissing Marcus back like he can't get enough.
Like he needs Marcus, and it's stupid but Marcus lets himself think it anyway.
Because Harlan wants him around even after all this time – maybe even more now
than at the beginning – and there's no way he'd say no to that. He pulls away
to gasp for breath, a moan escaping him when Harlan's fingers disappear only to
push right back in again. And he wants more, rocks back to show Harlan exactly
what he needs, earning him a murmured 'fuck, Marcus' and he wants to laugh at
that, because it's exactly what he had in mind.
Only he can't catch his breath long enough to make a sound, and when Harlan's
cock replaces his fingers all Marcus can do is close his eyes and hold on.
Harlan's knees are bent, hips thrusting up against him and he's not taking it
slow. Marcus hooks his hands behind Harlan's neck, pushing back against him and
it takes them awhile to find a rhythm that works, but when they do he knows
Harlan's not going to last long. He's moving way too fast, breathing hard with
each thrust and long before Marcus is ready for it to end Harlan's tensing and
coming inside him.
He moves first, sliding off Harlan's lap to collapse on the mattress and he's
not sure what to do about his wrecked comforter. That's not exactly the kind of
thing he can just sneak into the laundry, but maybe he can talk Harlan into
taking it back to his house to wash over the weekend.
He feels Harlan shift next to him, feels warm lips brush his shoulder before
Harlan settles back against the mattress. "You ever go dancing?"
"What?" Marcus asks, the question surprising him enough to force him to look up
at the other boy.
"I asked if you've ever been dancing," Harlan answers, and he's not looking at
Marcus but he's smiling that smile that tells Marcus he's missing some joke.
"There's this club in the city, we could go over break."
"You've been before?"
Harlan shrugs, shoulder brushing Marcus' in the process and Marcus finds
himself moving closer to the warmth. "A couple times with Randall and Alex and
Trini. Mary never wanted to go, but I guess she was too busy mooning over Van
Owen even then."
His stomach flutters at the thought, because it's one thing to spend the week
at Harlan's house, but going to some strange club is totally different. A club
where people will see them together, maybe even people who know them. Only
Harlan doesn't care about that stuff – wouldn't care if the door opened right
now and Marcus' roommate walked in to find them like this – so Marcus swallows
against the ball of nerves in his stomach.
"Do I need an I.D.? Because I've got one, but it's not that great."
"Don't worry about it, Marcus." Harlan turns onto his side, pushing himself up
on one elbow as he says it. He leans in to brush another kiss across Marcus'
lips, pulling back before Marcus can drag him closer. "Trust me, you'll love
it."
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