December 9th, 2007
|03:26 pm - Craig Parker and Marton Csokas|
The continuation of Marton and Craig’s dinner at Citadel.
"Come on, I've got us a room," Marton says, glancing around the Citadel bar.
"A room?" Craig questions quietly. "Marton... I'd rather go on home..."
"No," Marton says and then smiles, reaching to pet across Craig's cheek. "You're so pretty. Those eyes.... come on."
Craig wonders too when it stopped mattering what he wants. Jaw setting a bit, he then schools his features and follows after Marton.
The ride up in the lift is quiet, as is the walk to the room. Opening the door, Marton steps back and lets Craig enter. Pulling at his tie he tosses it and the keycard on the dresser, toeing his shoes off as he strides to the bed. "Come here."
The only thing Craig removes is his coat because it's a bit warm and moves to where Marton is sitting, watching the man--his Sir, though he doesn't feel inclined to take any orders at the moment.
Reaching up, Marton pulls Craig down to him. He pushes his fingers into the thick soft hair and curls them, lifting to kiss Craig's mouth.
Craig lets Marton kiss him for a moment before pulling back. "Marton," he says quietly. “I’m just not in the mood for this tonight."
Marton blinks. "I'm sorry, what?" He looks at Craig, confusion sketched across his face.
Motioning, Craig indicates the room...meaning Citadel. "This...you wanted to do dinner, we did dinner. I'm just...not in the mood for this."
"You aren't in the mood to please your Sir?" Marton asks, eyebrow raised.
Craig sighs, rubbing at his forehead. "Marton..."
"Tonight I don't want to be anyone's boy, I...told you I wasn't in the mood for Citadel..."
"Oh, so you get to just - pick and choose when I get the services of my boy?" Marton asks, sitting up straight. "I guess I should have expected it. Second best choice of Sir gets second best time."
Craig feels as if he's been slapped and he actually takes a step back. "You seem to be able to pick and choose when you will fulfill the services of the Sir you were supposed to be when I entered the contract," Craig responds quietly.
"Quick to throw that in my face, aren't you?" Marton snaps. "I told you I was sorry that it upset you."
"But you aren't being sensitive to the fact I might need a little bloody time to get over it."
"Fine!" Marton all but shouts as he stands quickly. "Let's go."
Craig flinches back but nods, not trusting himself to say anything.
The trip home is tense and silent and once at the house, Marton stalks to his study and pours a drink.
After a moment, Craig decides against following and instead goes to put on coffee. He closes his eyes and leans against the counter.
A second drink follows the first and then a third comes next, pretty soon, Marton feels a warm dull buzz around him.
Curling up with a book, that he has no prayer of actually being able to read, Craig drinks his coffee.
The blue vase on the table shatters as it hits the floor. Marton stumbles out and goes to find Craig.
Jumping when he hears the crash, Craig is on his feet. "Marton?"
"Did you laugh about it?" Marton shouts at Craig.
Craig frowns, moving towards the man's voice. "What?"
"You and that bug eyed little bastard! Did you two lay there naked and laugh about me loving you!?"
"Marton, what are you talking about?"
"You know I love you! I've always fucking loved you! And you don't fucking care," Marton snarls, raising his hand and then freezing. "I'm going to bed."
Craig's eyes widen as Marton raises his hand. He stands frozen even after Marton starts to walk off. He turns, grabbing his jacket and heading out of the house to go walk and clear his head.