“Right.”
“Most of them are old movies, though, like from the ’80s or early ’90s.”
Darius cleared his throat loudly.
“Oh, I guess you were like alive then.”
“I was.”
Marc grinned. “So you’d prefer I called them…”
“Movies. Just movies.”
“Whatever you like. Are you going to follow me home?”
Darius scowled. “I’m not a stray puppy.”
“No, you’d be a panther.”
“What?”
“If you were an animal, you’d be a large cat.” Marc paused to study him carefully. “Probably a panther. Maybe a lion or even a leopard.”
“Are you still drunk?”
“I wish.”
Darius narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t tell me you never think about what kind of animal people would be?”
“Fine. Sometimes. You could be a puppy. A fussy, hyper one. Like a poodle or something.”
That was going too far. “I am not a poodle.”
The door chimed before Marc could make any further arguments.
***
Marc closed the door as Darius stepped farther into his apartment, which now seemed even messier than it was when he’d rushed in that morning—or done the closest thing he could do to rushing with the worst hangover he’d had in years—to find clothes for work. “I know it’s not immaculate or cohesively designed like your place, but—”
“I like it.”
“You do?”
“It’s just the right mix of sparkle and coziness to suit you perfectly.”
Was Darius mocking him? His expression said no. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I don’t bullshit. If I hated it, I’d tell you what to do to fix it.”
He would. “You want something to drink? I have beer, wine, um…” He looked in the fridge. “Coke, orange juice, and—” He pulled the milk out and did a smell test. “Not milk.”
Now Darius was laughing at him.
“I’m a twenty-four-year-old man who lives alone; what do you expect to find in my fridge?”
“I’d love a beer.”
Marc accepted the change of subject. “Highland Gaelic okay?”
“Lovely.”
“Do you need a glass?” Marc suddenly felt their age difference in a way he hadn’t even when Darius pointed out that calling ’80s movies old was insulting.
Not only was Darius older, he seemed so sophisticated. Marc knew some of it was show for customers, but it was hard to imagine him having a fridge with expired milk and almost no food. He wasn’t even sure Darius would lounge on his couch and watch mindless movies all day.
“No glass necessary.”
“I do have glasses.”
“I’m sure you do.” Darius used his most patronizing tone.
“I don’t really have any food, though, so if we need something, I’ll have to—”
“Marc?”
“Yes.”
“Bring the drinks, and sit down.”
“Right.” Was that Darius’s way of telling him not to worry?
He set the drinks on the coffee table, but rather than joining Darius on the couch, he settled on the floor by the TV cabinet. “I actually own a lot of DVDs. Riley and I found most of them secondhand.”
“I’m old, remember? DVDs do not seem strange to me.”
“Oh, yeah.” How badly was he fucking this up?
“Oh my God, is that Dirty Dancing?” Darius asked as Marc flipped through the case that held his discs.
“Yeah, you like that one?”
“I loved it back in the day. I haven’t seen it in years.”
Marc took the disc out of its sleeve and popped it into the DVD player.
Then he settled next to Darius on the couch.
As Baby and her family arrived at the Catskills resort, Marc stayed on his side of the couch, not yet sure exactly what this not-really-watching-a-movie-together thing was all about.
As the movie progressed and Baby began to fall for Johnny, Darius skimmed his fingers up and down Marc’s thigh until Marc had no idea what was happening on the screen. By the time Baby showed up at Johnny’s cabin, Marc and Darius were intertwined, occasionally making out as they halfway watched the film.
When Johnny walked up to Baby’s table near the end, Marc and Darius both chorused, “‘Nobody puts Baby in a corner.’” Then they laughed so hard they almost fell off the couch.
“Riley used to say that to me when I’d let some asshole talk me into changing myself to be with him.”
Darius studied him. “You’re always ready to tell me off. Hell, even when you wanted me to hire you, you didn’t hold back. It’s hard for me to imagine you giving in to some piece of shit who thought he had a right to tell you what to do.”
“I can be bossy as shit with friends or clients or fuck buddies.” He was very careful not to look at Darius. He didn’t know what Darius thought they were to each other, and he wasn’t about to ask. “But when it comes to relationships… I don’t know. I guess I’m too quick to convince myself some asshole is The One, and I just want it to work out.”
Darius took his hand. “Sometimes I forget how young you are.”
“I’m not a kid, though. I know better. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. Is it because my parents kicked me out? Because I didn’t get the unconditional love I needed? Yeah, probably. But it doesn’t matter whether I know why or I recognize it, I do it anyway.”