#wkm!mark

His friend had expressed some concerns about meeting Mark, such as the obvious fact of them not being “out,” so to say, and also because they tend not to warm up to others very quickly.

The latter had surprised Damien. He hadn’t noticed until several weeks into their friendship but with anyone else, they were reserved and curt. Most often with those they did not like, but even with strangers, they tended to keep on the quiet side. Not a shy sort of quiet but rather…a cautious one. A testing-the-waters kind of silence.

Damien had attempted to introduce them to various other acquaintances he has made since University, but thus far, not only have his acquaintances found his friend lacking in entertainment, but his friend has in turn not felt comfortable around his acquaintances. There are probably a total of three outside pals that his friend is most at ease with and even then, they do not speak nearly as freely as they do when it’s just he and them together.

It took months for Damien to realize that he is the exception.

Whereas he looks at his friend and sees a reserved but vibrant person slow to trust, others saw a prickly and unsociable outsider. From what he can tell, and from what his friend has confessed both directly and not, he’s the first real friend they’ve ever had, and the longest lasting one. Damien doesn’t know exactly what they saw in him to lead to their rapidly developed friendship, but he does know it is the greatest gift he will ever receive.

All of this being said, Damien is willing to admit to himself that he would be devastated if Mark and his friend do not get along, and as excited as he is for his two worlds to meet (hopefully a far better meeting than the one with his parents), he is also very aware that Mark could come across as the very sort of person his friend abhors.

Which brings him to the current situation.

Mark is in town shooting a small film (part of Damien is disappointed Celine isn’t here too), and of course the man insisted on meeting the aspiring law student Damien can’t shut up about in his letters, so Mark insisted that the three of them meet at Freddy’s Pub.

After the initial introductions (in which Mark looked over Damien’s friend and then sent a wink of all things in his direction and Damien rather wished the earth would swallow him whole), and the drink orders, the discussions began.

“So, if I recall correctly,” Mark begins with that characteristic smug grin of his, “you two met during a prank you were pulling on Damien’s parents, correct?”

Damien’s friend looks at Mark with a lifted brow. “Technically we met at orientation, then again on his first day at University, but yeah, that’s how we became friends.”

“Oh, I imagine your folks loved that whole situation,” Mark drawls as he leans back in his chair. “Marrying someone you just met from University? They still haven’t called us since our wedding, and they’ve known me since our elementary days.”

“They were ecstatic,” they respond, and there’s a sudden edge in their voice which worries Damien. “Shame you and Damien’s sister weren’t there to witness it.”

As soon as the words leave their mouth, Damien cringes.. Judging by the stiffness in Mark’s posture, Damien knows he understands exactly what they mean. Damien is surprised they remembered his sadness about Celine and Mark attending his fake wedding, but he really shouldn’t be. They care and recall far more than they let on.

“You’re right,” Mark finally acknowledges with an apologetic look towards Damien. “Celine and I should’ve been at your wedding.”

“Mark, it’s fine, the wedding was fake—”

“But we didn’t know that,” Mark interrupts. “And we should have gone to support you. We just thought…” He sighs. “Celine didn’t think you’d want her and your parents in the same room—”

“It’s fine, Mark,” Damien insists, ignoring the disbelieving look his friend sends him (they’ve always said they find him too forgiving for his own good). “How are you and Celine, by the way?”

Mark’s grin grows into something natural and beautiful, the kind of smile only the giddiness of love can bring, and Damien relaxes further. He catches a minute change in his friend’s shoulders as well, at the sight.

Then their drinks appear at the table, and the mood lightens further as Mark recites the adventures in domesticity he and Celine are taking part in before he tackles his acting career in full.

“What kind of roles are you looking for?” his friend asks.

“Oh, I like to dabble in everything: drama, comedy, etc. I’d even enjoy voicing all of these animated films Disney and Fleischer have been producing lately—”

Mark cuts off as some tall brunette man suddenly bumps into their table, nearly spilling the drinks and falling on top of Damien’s friend.

“Oh, my apologies, Gorgeous!” the stranger says, with a bright grin. He makes no move to step away from them, and Damien considers stepping in when he catches the apprehensive look in his friend’s eyes.

“No harm done,” they mutter as they gently but firmly push the stranger away. But he doesn’t leave, and Damien starts to get suspicious of the supposedly innocence smile directed as his friend.

“Hey, hold on, let me make it up to you, darling. I’ll buy your next drink—”

“No, I’m fine,” they insist and make a concentrated effort to avoid his eyes by looking at Mark again. “Which company would you prefer to do voices for, Disney or Fleischer?”

Mark, to his credit, picks up on their discomfort. “It looks as though Disney is on the golden road to success, so I doubt they would hire an amateur like me. I would be so happy to work on Popeye with Fleischer though.”

“Popeye is fantastic, but Disney has been fairly prolific with their animated masterpieces lately,” they offer, and the conversation goes back and forth like that until the stranger takes the hint and leaves for the bar.

They sigh in relief. “Thank you,” they say to Mark.

“No problem.”

“Is everything alright?” Damien asks them. “You seem tense. Well, more tense than normal.”

Damien is fully aware that they deal with men who don’t respect boundaries on a regular basis, but that’s usually when it comes to verbal sparring and the occasional brawl. How often do they deal with someone of this nature?

They shrug. “Just…he gave me a bad feeling. It’s nothing.” They sip their beer a few times before setting it down.

Damien senses they wish to drop the subject, so he crosses his arms and looks at them in mock accusation. “Since when are you a fan of cartoons? Are you telling me we could have been watching Disney animations at the drive-ins together and we haven’t yet?”

This finally pulls a laugh out of them, and Damien feels his chest warm at the sound.

“Do the two of you often go see films together?” Mark questions with a knowing twinkle in his eyes, and Damien feels his blood rush to his face at the implication in Mark’s tone.

“Are you kidding?” they scoff. “Between studying and homework, we can barely muster enough energy to go outside.”

Mark looks as though he’d like to keep teasing the two of them, but Damien rapidly changes the discussion back to Mark’s aspiring career. As the evening progresses for the next hour or so and everyone’s drinks are slowly depleted, Damien notices something strange.

“My friend, are you feeling well?”

For the past few minutes, their words have slurred together into almost incomprehensible gibberish and they keep shaking their head as if to keep awake.

They blink several times and rub their hand over their face. “I…I can’t keep my eyes open…I think I’ll go splash some water on my face…”

Mark chuckles good-naturedly as they stand up from their chair and make a slow attempt at walking, unaware of Damien’s concern. “A little too much to drink, perhaps?”

Damien shakes his head, and the serious look in his face makes Mark sober up. “Mark, their limit is at least five drinks; their glass isn’t even empty, it shouldn’t be affecting them like this—”

They stumble against the edge of the table, all of a sudden, staring at a faraway spot. “Damien…” they slur. “Something…something’s wrong…”

“Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

Mark and Damien turn to see the stranger approaching once more. He starts pulling them to their feet and away from the table. “I can take this lightweight home if you two want to stay here and catch up. It would be my pleasure!”

The stranger is already turning away from the group, with Damien’s friend shaking and feebly trying to push away from his arms, and it’s not until Damien sees Mark sniff their glass that the pieces fall into place.

Damien will look back on this moment in years to come and recall nothing but a haze of anger like he’s never felt before and a film of red overtaking his vision.

When Mark tells the story in later times, he will talk about how Damien leapt from the table and punched the stranger right in the nose with a loud crunch, pulling his friend back into their chair as the man howled in pain, tossing out curses before Damien tackled him to the ground and continued pummeling him. But Damien doesn’t recall any of this, despite the proof of bruises on his knuckles and the trembling in his shoulders.

Damien only recalls Mark pulling him away, leaving the man bleeding and swearing on the ground.

“Damien, we need to go!”

His vision clears, and Damien can see the entire pub looking at him in utter fear, but this means nothing to him when he lays eyes on his friend and sees they’re struggling to get out of their chair. He rushes forward to catch them before they fall to the ground.

They wrap their arms around his neck, breathing heavily and whimpering. “I don’t like this, I can’t think, I can’t see, what’s happening, Damien, why…?”

He can barely make out the words as they repeat them over and over, but he pats their back and whispers back, “I’ve got you, my friend, it’s okay, we’re taking you home, alright?” Damien looks over at Mark who nods and they start to depart, but not before Damien kicks the bastard who drugged his friend one last time for good measure.

“So where are we going?” Mark asks, uncharacteristically solemn.

Damien adjusts his hold on his mumbling friend. “We walked here from their house. We’ll just carry them there, it’s not too far.”

“If you say so.”

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Partway to his friend’s home, his friend falls asleep, so Damien finally carries them on his own power the rest of the way. When they arrive, he places them gently on the couch and covers them up with the quilt resting at the foot.

The tension knotting in Damien’s chest doesn’t go away, however, despite seeing them safe in their home. He still can’t believe someone tried to…his friend could have been…

“So,” Mark suddenly begins, after being silent the entire trip here (not that Damien had been in the mood to talk anyway), “I’ve never seen you that angry before.”

Damien flexes his sore knuckles and wonders at the lack of regret over his actions. He’s not a violent man, never has been. He’s rough-housed with Mark and William growing up, and that’s about it, aside from…

Aside from the time that bastard called his friend by a disgusting epithet.

But he didn’t regret that fight either, even if he retreated after one bad punch. He learned after that, from his friend, how to throw a proper hit.

“If you think I overreacted—”

“I think you showed remarkable restraint,” Mark interrupts, and the conversational lilt in his voice makes Damien finally take his gaze off his sleeping friend. “I probably would have gone too far, to be honest, if I were in your position, and that was Celine on the couch now. Or even William, or you.”

Damien blinks at the...rather worrying stillness in Mark’s face, the ease coming with the concession. “I…I don’t know what to say to that.”

“Then don’t say anything.”

“But I want you to understand,” Damien admits. “For as long as I’ve known them, they have always been in control of their faculties. Never drinking too much unless they were here at home, and always keeping their guard up around everyone else. I’m the only real friend…” Damien pinches the bridge of his nose. “Seeing them so unsettled, so unsteady and scared…and what if I wasn’t there? They could have been…”

A hand lands on his shoulder and he tries to take comfort from Mark’s gesture.

“Damien,” Mark begins, “take comfort in the fact that your, erm, ‘friend’ is well. You were there, and that’s what matters.”

Damien’s eyes narrow as he pulls his hand away from his face. “Why that strange inflection on ‘friend’?”

Mark chuckles and shakes his head. “Damien, I’ve known you for a long time now, and while you’ve always been a very intimate friend, I know how you look when you’re in love.”

Good God, not this. He doesn’t need Mark’s teasing right now, especially with how out of sorts he feels.

“Mark—”

“You don’t need to say anything, Damien,” Mark declares as he holds up a defensive hand. “But I thought you’d like to know, I think you two are well-suited for each other. A rather gentle meeting of opposites, if you may.”

“Mark, we’re just friends—”

“Obviously you’re not together,” he dismisses. “I doubt you would have kept such a thing from me, but I thought you may as well know I approve. Not that you need my approval, but nonetheless, you have it!”

Damien is saved from responding when his friend stirs on the couch with a whimper. He drops to the edge of the coffee table and places a gentle hand on their head. “Don’t worry, my friend, I’m here…” He whispers to them, stroking the curls from their face. “You’re safe.”

Their eyes flutter open briefly, a hint of panic flickering through their features. “Damien, where am I, what happened—”

“We’ve taken you home. Don’t worry, nothing happened to you,” Damien reassures them. “We…we took care of it.”

“I think you mean you took care of it.”

Damien ignores Mark as his friend shifts again on the couch. They place their hand over his as the relief smooths the wrinkles from their forehead.

“Thank you…for looking out for me…”

“My pleasure,” Damien says with a smile.

As their breathing evens back out, Damien keeps his hand on their face until he’s positive they’re fully asleep once more.

“Ah yes, I can see what great friends you are—”

“Mark,” Damien interrupts with a roll of his eyes and a small, shy smile, “shut up.”

Fin

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@cosmic--frappucino , @dontworryaboutanything , @beereblogsstuff , @musical-jim