ourheartsarecompatible | Excuse me while I dodge your captcha...

[The lack of response makes Simon look around, hand coming away from his mouth as he opens it to ask what Markus might think, only to see his face from mere inches away. The pink that had managed to mostly fade away as he looked at the portrait in a more professional manner returns in a hot flood and he recoils, hand balling into a tight fist at his throat.

His voice catches as his eyes widen and lips part, and he just takes in the way Markus looks at him with such bare interest.]

I. Might have overstepped. Sorry.

[Okay, this is something else. Shyness is cute and charming and all, but Simon looks genuinely afraid for a moment and that causes an answering twinge of alarm in Markus, who steps back with both hands palm-out at his sides.]

Hey, no - [What would Simon even think he did wrong? Markus's brow furrows with confusion and concern.] - you didn't do anything. I'm pretty sure it was me who missed the boundary mark there.

[Still reeling from the shock of Simon's response and with profound embarrassment starting to settle in, Markus fumbles for his beer bottle on the table beside him and takes a swig to try and settle his nerves.]

[That reaction to him is even more alarming, and Simon is quick to shake his head, brow knitting high over bewildered eyes. He forces himself to unclench, to let his hands come away from his center and clearing his throat to try and talk it back through, and maybe convince Markus not to look at him like that.]

No, no you didn't do anything wrong, I'm just not used to people being so close to me, that's all, you just. Startled me. That's all.

[Completely breezing past his own initial apology for offering suggestions. Even if Markus had asked for his opinion, he still feels as if he's said something out of line. Especially with that reaction.]

Startled. Alright. Sorry, I'll keep that in mind from now on.

[If Markus still seems off-balance despite accepting Simon's explanation, it's only because of the initial feelings that got stirred up by Simon's reaction to him. He knows he must have overreacted or let his own personal shit colour what he was seeing on Simon's face, and yet... that's never quite enough to make the feelings dissipate entirely, is it? No matter how self-aware he struggles to be.]

What was your suggestion again?

Edited (did i accidentally delete the last line of this or did dw? a mystery) 2022-02-19 21:36 (UTC)

[Everything in him wants to reach out, to try and offer some reassurance, to make sure that Markus knows that he's ok and that he's still happy to be here. But he just...maintains his distance, takes a longer swallow of his beer, and moves back again to retake a seat with hit weight leaned against the arm and his fingers laced loosely around his bottle. He'd been in Markus' blind spot, he realizes after a moment of thought, piecing together everything he's seen so far, plus that second of looking right into Markus' face to see the difference in his eyes. He'd only ever seen the difference in colors and thought heterochromia, but he's got a more complete picture now.

He sucks thoughtfully at his lower lip when Markus speaks up again.]

Color highlights. [A simple response to keep himself from going back into the ideas he'd just spilled out before.]

Right. [An idle nod, his attention completely on the sketch again while they both let this ripple of discomfort pass.] That's better than what I was thinking, actually, bold linework wouldn't suit this. Maybe watercolour pencils...

[Lauryn Hill cuts through the moment like she's right in the room with them and Markus can't help but laugh - apparently his playlist has skipped a few decades, as they tend to do when left running for long enough. With a little shake of his head, he pulls up his stool a comfortable (he hopes) distance from Simon and sits down with much more ease in his posture than just a second earlier.]

I come on strong sometimes. A lot of people've told me I have more guts than sense. But I don't have to, and if it spooks you, I won't.

[The change in music draws a soft smile from him. It's both a total 180 from the soul they'd been listening to, and very indicative of Markus as a whole. He enjoys the music that he sometimes hears coming from the parlor when both of their doors are open and his own is quiet enough (it usually is, he knows not everyone bathes in the melancholia of emotional bands the way that he does).

Like this, he's able to watch Markus more comfortably, his sleeves pulled down most of the way over his hands and one of his legs tucked up under his body. He shakes his head as Markus tries to explain himself.]

You're very...intense, sometimes. It's not something that I'm accustomed to and usually you're on the other side of a wall from me. [He smiles a little against the lip of his bottle.] It's easier to behave like someone else when you're not right beside me.

[Referring to the idle flirtation]

[Very intense, huh? Markus laughs again, not quite abashed but obviously quite aware of that particular quality of his. His beer bottle hangs loosely in the loop of his index finger and thumb, his legs just as loosely from the tall stool, and there's still that indelible energy humming all around him; his expression has relaxed, though, and his head tilts slightly to one side as he listens to Simon's explanation.]

Correct me if I'm wrong, but - that makes it sound like you've been watching me as much as I've been watching you. How much sooner could I have gotten around to this, anyway?

[He can almost see the look that Markus wants to give him, that little quirk of lips that precedes when he wants to say something that has a very high possibility of making Simon turn red.

Which, of course, being called out does trigger. Simon busies himself with his drink until it's drained, and he pouts a little bit at the bottle for letting him down before putting it aside.]

I've been very aware of you since you first took over the space next door. I don't think I would have had the guts to actually accept the invitation early on, though.

[The incredible thing is that Markus wasn't sure of Simon's answer, because he really didn't notice the other man "being aware" of him - once he became aware of Simon in the same way, he just observed for a while and then moved in with the natural confidence of someone who's never had much trouble convincing people to fall for him.

But Simon really was into him from the start, huh? Usually he's better at picking up on that sort of thing, so Simon must have put some work into hiding his interest. That and his strong reaction to having Markus stand so close... what Markus saw in Simon's eyes as he recoiled really wasn't the sort of fear he first assumed, was it? There's more to discover here, more to understand, than just how to charm Simon into bed.]

In that case, I'm glad I waited. [He's sincere and warm this time, no teasing to be found.] And I hope you'll keep accepting them.

[What Markus had interpreted as fear was only a little bit that; Simon is the kind of person to be very overwhelmed by gestures that others might make completely without thought, always so careful to be small and unobtrusive and make no big waves. A guiding hand at the back rather than a leader marching at the front. The fact that he owns his own business is kind of a miracle, but it helps that he's the only one there making it run. He'd have to hire on someone new at some point to keep up with the growing clientele that his flowers draw in, but he could handle that when it becomes necessary, he's sure.

He absolutely wouldn't refute that he had the worst crush on Markus from the moment the man had moved into the vacant shop next to his own. But generally a man doesn't want to know that the sad-looking guy with all the flowers is into him, and keeping his feelings to himself has always been easier. Minimizing what he wants and what he thinks has been the name of the game since he was very young. Very opposite his brother, who was outspoken and action-oriented and hostile and unwilling to make compromises.]

Time permitting, I think I'd like to come back again, if I won't be in anyone's way here.

You won't be.

[Even when the place is crowded, Markus's natural aura of casual confidence tends to make others defer to him as the de facto leader. He holds no such position within the co-op and feels as though his father's donations should preclude him from ever taking the reins - it's just what happens around him when he's there.]

I don't want to keep you too long tonight, though... you were looking like you might fall asleep on me awhile back.

[Now that they'll be leaving things on comfortable, even positive terms if Simon does decide to go, Markus feels like it's time to address the very sleepy elephant in the room. He's got a growing suspicion that Simon would stay up all night chatting with Markus if he was left to be the one who had to speak up for himself.]

[He laughs quietly, rubbing his hand across his cheek and nodding. He'd been up since six in the morning and on his feet almost the entire time until he'd gone home to relax before he'd come here. He might have gone to bed hours ago had he not been invited to the co-op.]

You'll show me when you finish it, right? I'd love to see.

[He pushes himself up out of his seat and moves to put his bottles back into the four pack, not terribly sure where the recycling is just yet, and collects his belongings. Then, on a whim, he comes to Markus' side (avoiding his blind spot entirely) and lays a hand on the back of his arm.]

Thank you for inviting me. I'll see you tomorrow?

Of course. You'll be the first one to know when it's done.

[Markus stands up and extends his arms above his head with hands interlocked for a long stretch, then pauses for a second to wonder how much he really needs to clean up before he gets out of here. In that second, Simon manages to catch him completely off-guard with his light touch.]

Ah - yeah. Tomorrow. [Is that Markus showing a hint of fluster? It passes quickly enough, but even then he winds up flashing Simon a smile with no rogueish humour behind it - this time, his face is lit up with nothing but such pure glee that it's almost childish in its simplicity.] 'Night, Simon.

[He's never had any problem convincing people to fall for him, so why does it feel like such a massive achievement when Simon reaches out to establish physical contact first?]

[If Simon notices the moment of fluster, he decides not to point it out. Best not to make it awkward when he's already managed to do that at least once today already.]

Good night, Markus. Sleep well, when you do.

[The smile he offers on his way out is soft, sweet, betraying just a little bit of how enamored of Markus he really is. It's just a subtle thing, and he doesn't let himself linger there to watch Markus continuing to work, as much as he might be enjoying himself.

At work the next day he's content to leave the door of his shop open to let the air in (and maybe catch some snatches of Markus' music from next door). He even spends some time outside the front of it to change out some of the displayed plants and prune the ivy that he'd started growing at the base of the metal rails that held up the awnings it last year.

It's easy, falling into a rhythm with the new development that is Markus' attention on him. There is interest, even mutual attraction, but Simon is reticent. Perpetually anxious and disinclined toward making a fuss or moving their relationship anywhere at all. He might argue that he likes where they're at in their relationship, and while that is true, he knows that he can be a little frustrating. It's just how he is, the behavior enforced over the bulk of his life.

When he's invited to a gallery opening for a familiar name, he has to force himself not to turn it down for the idea of what might happen. He doesn't want to embarrass Markus, being from so little means and looking so very out of place. The latter half of it is helped by a friend of Daniel's, who had heard him talking with his brother about the fact that he just didn't have anything to wear to what he assumed was going to be a terribly fancy event. He couldn't show up looking like his wardrobe was all department store and secondhand fodder...

When he arrives outside of the gallery with the distinct impression that he's going to stick out like a sore thumb, having been convinced not to shave so that he had what Kara had called a "handsome scruff", Simon repeatedly smooths his hands over the silvery material of the vest she'd insisted on picking for him when he'd finally managed to settle on a soft, pale green button-up and tie to match. He turns over his brother's words in his head, the grouchy insistence that Simon shouldn't go, that he's going to be surrounded by rich assholes that won't even remotely appreciate him being there, that this thing that he's doing with Markus is a mistake, and the worst part is how easy it is for his own anxiety to chime in: what if he's right?]

Excuse me while I dodge your captcha...

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