Work Text:
"Heads up," Carey murmured, and Marc casually shut his laptop, and looked up to smile at Sid.
"Hey, Flower. Carey. I brought you guys coffee," Sid said, with the shining smile he got when he was being helpful. Carey moaned, and made grabby hands at the Timmy's cups set down on the counter. "Is Bobby in?"
"No, he's off at an auction." Marc took a deep draught of blissful caffeine, and enjoyed the sight of Sid's shoulders straining against his worn t-shirt. "You can just save the fourth coffee for later, I'll zap it in the office microwave when you want it."
"You're great," Sid said, and Marc would like to believe that small, soft smile was just for him. "I'm gonna do some reading in the Classics section, okay?"
"Shout if you need any help," Marc said, and watched him head off into the bookshelves with thorough appreciation.
"You're such an adorable couple," Carey said dryly, and Marc groaned, and ducked his head.
"Sid and Geno are such an adorable couple," he said, and turned resolutely back to his laptop. "They're inspiringly adorable. They're inspiring me right now."
"How's are you getting on with the porn?"
"It is erotic fiction and you'll be sorry you mocked me when I'm the next fifty shades of whatever. Pretty good. I've got eight chapters of sizzling hot pirate action."
"Pirates, though," Carey said, resting his chin on his hand. "Sid asked permission before taking notes from a book he wasn't going to buy. I'm not seeing him as the buccaneering type."
"Geno got him into it," Marc said, and Carey nodded, because that made perfect sense. "Now hush, and let me create."
Sid wrapped his hands in the tattered lapels of Geno's coat, and grinned fiercely up at him. Geno's eyes were dark as the storm outside, but Sid was safe as if he stood on the deck of his ship. He could ride this storm.
Geno's lips settled against his, and they swayed with the rock of the ship, the shadows lurching wildly around them as the lantern swayed.
"Douse the lamp," Sid breathed against his lips, because he didn't quite value the sight of Geno's body above the safety of his ship.
"You wanna help me cash up here?" Carey called, and Marc glanced at the clock, then the wordcount. Good progress. He hit Print.
"Yeah, I'll be right there, let me just- ma'am! Ma'am, look out - " he hurdled the counter, not quite in time to stop a lady backing into a spindly table laden with small plastic Mickey Mouse figures. Mice scattered, and the lady squeaked and flailed until Marc grabbed her by the shoulders to steady her. He reassured her, and picked up the figures and arranged them neatly.
"Cashing up," Carey called as Marc got distracted by getting the figures in a perfect circle. Right. He jogged to the printer corner, and found Sid.
Sid jumped when Flower rounded the tall bureau, and looked at him with very dark eyes. His lips were glossy and parted, and Flower was briefly so distracted by them that he didn't notice that Sid was holding -
Sid was holding his printout.
"Oh my God," Flower said, with rising terror. This was - this was the worst possible thing. This was a nightmare. He took a quick glance down, hoping that he was naked, which would mean it was all a hideous dream and he'd wake up and never use the work printer ever again.
He was fully dressed, and when he looked up Sid had taken a step towards him, eyes huge in his flushed face. The crackle of paper broke Marc's frozen state; Sid had clutched the sheaf of paper so hard the first page - the one with the blow job, Marc remembered dismally - had torn.
"I am so fucking sorry," he blurted out, and Sid blinked. "I know it's a horrible violation and I should never have - I'm really sorry and I'm just gonna go drown myself."
"Flower," Sid began, and Marc couldn't even wait to get his pages back, he just turned and bolted, flying past a startled Carey and bursting through the side door. He didn't stop til he was safe in his car, and that was only til his hands stopped shaking enough he could drive safely.
Fuck. He was going to have to move. Maybe to France. He'd call in his resignation as soon as he got home.
"You're not fucking resigning," Bobby said irritably. He'd insisted Marc come in to resign in person, which Marc now saw was just to get him in position to use his intimidation. Bobby had his flat cap on, and was glowering, which was really all too much. "What are you going to pay your student loans with, sweet smiles?"
"I have very sweet smiles," Marc defended himself, and then shook his head. "Never mind that, the point is - " he looked up at Bobby. "Okay. I sexually harassed a customer. Like, accidentally, but - "
"Accidentally?" Bobby shook his head. "Look, this is Canada. We're all Canadians. Fucking apologise, and it'll be fine. I've got a buying trip this week and I can't have you quitting because you're an accidental pervert."
"I can't," Marc said desperately, and Bobby's glower shifted, almost imperceptibly, until he was looking very, very disappointed. "I won't."
"He looked disappointed at you, didn't he?" Carey said, and Marc groaned, and put his head in his hands. "Yeah, he abuses that." He patted Marc's shoulder. "Look, I expect they'll just - stay away."
"You're right." Marc straightened his spine. "They'll never come back, and they'll have a funny story to tell for years about how some freak in a junk shop wrote porn about them."
"Curios and collectibles," Carey said. "See? It's fine. Soon you'll forget all about it, except for those agonising moments at 3am where every awful thing - "
"Shut up," Marc said, and looked up gratefully as the bell rang. "Oh, shit!" He dived off his stool and crabwalked to the office. Fortunately the door was ajar, and he could sidle in and nudge it shut before Sid and Geno had negotiated their way around the crowded tables and shelves.
He hadn't even contemplated how Geno would react. He was, Marc was sure, not the kind of guy to get violent over someone... writing porn about him.
Writing porn about his boyfriend, however... Well, Geno did dote on Sid.
"Come out," Carey said, face appearing in the small window. "They've gone."
"Really gone?" Marc said suspiciously, and got up to peer through the glass. Unless they were hunched down behind the counter, they had gone. Marc sighed, and let himself out. "Okay, so... did you give them Bobby's number?"
"What? No."
"They didn't come to complain?"
"They just asked if they could speak to you. I told them you'd called in sick."
"Well. Maybe they'll give up?"
"Sid will give up?"
"Sid won't give up," Marc said, and sighed.
It took five days for Sid to give up, by which time Marc's nerves were so shot he dived to the floor every time the bell jangled. On day six, there was no sign of him, or Geno.
They didn't come in at all the week after, and by Monday Marc was congratulating himself on escaping a truly horrible encounter. Of course, that was when Carey, adjusting the window display of a truly alarming stuffed fox, hissed "They're here! Get down!" and Flower just fell off his chair and lay there, hidden behind the counter, regretting every decision in his life to date.
"Hi, Carey," he heard Sid say, and Flower made a face against his arm and wondered if his heart would ever stop sinking when he heard Sid's voice. "I guess Flower isn't in?"
"Fraid not," Carey's voice came, sounding more relaxed and natural than Flower on his best days. "I'll tell him you came by."
"Thanks," Sid said, too polite to say the bullshit he had to be thinking by now. "Uh, can I leave this for him?"
"Sure."
"Please, uh. Please ask him to read it? It's important."
"I will, Sid."
The bell jangled again, and Carey's footsteps came to the counter, and slapped something down on it.
"Is it a restraining order?" Marc said, staring under the counter. It was populated by a vigorous colony of dust bunnies. "Bobby would let me leave if a customer had a restraining order out on me."
"I don't know, it's in a sealed envelope." The sound of a nail scratching against paper. "I could - "
"No, it's my restraining order, get off." Marc reached up and felt around; Carey slid the envelope under his hand.
"He didn't seem mad," Carey offered, and Marc groaned. "Maybe it's a letter reassuring you - "
"If this has pity in it, I'm burning it," Marc said, and tore open the envelope and slid out few pieces of paper, neatly clipped together with a paperclip. It wasn't a letter, or a court document; it was lines and lines of text, and Marc held it close to his nose.
Geno's hands cupped his face and he groaned
Flower blinked. Was Sid just returning his pages? But he printed double-spaced so he could make editing notes. He started at the top of the page.
"So," Geno said, and frowned. "Is this our latest captive?"
"Yes, my love," Sid said, and drew his lover down into a searing kiss.
"What is it?" Carey said, peering over the counter, and Marc peered around the paper.
"I have no fucking clue," he said, and returned to reading.
The man was almost as tall as Geno himself, with a pointed chin and a mouth made for smiles. Now, though, it was creased with worry.
"How do you crease a mouth?" Marc mused, his inner editor rising like a shark from his internal sea of fear and confusion. "Hey, pass me a pen. No, a red one." He underlined creased.
"What do you mean to do with me, you brigands?" he said bravely, though his breathing came fast. "My family are but poor; you'll have no ransom for me."
"It's not money we want," Sid said, and grasped him by the rope around his wrists.
Flower underlined rope. That should have been mentioned earlier. Where was this even happening?
"Tell me your name," Sid ordered, and the man's eyes flicked between them.
"Flower," he said -
"Holy shit," Flower said.
"What, oh my god, you're killing me." Carey leaned over and grabbed at the paper, and Flower rolled on his side to keep it out of reach.
- with his chin defiantly raised, and Sid smiled.
"A pretty name for a pretty man," he purred, and trailed his fingers down Flower's pale throat. "Well, Flower, my beloved and I desire you. From the first moment we met you, we wanted you, and when the chance came, we took it - and you."
Flower lowered the paper and clutched it to his chest. Carey slithered over the counter and landed beside him.
"Carey," he said. "This is... erotic fiction. With me, Geno and Sid."
"Is it good?" Carey said, brow wrinkling. "Because I don't see Sid as good at dirty talk."
"Not... really," Flower admitted. "But I doubt he's had a lot of practise. The point is, though. Uh. Is it possible that Sid's decided that writing sexy novels about your friends is just some super-intense bonding method?"
"Marc," Carey said gravely, and laid his hand over Marc's where it clutched the paper. "They want to fuck, okay. Go get them. I'll close up."
"But I don't even know - " Marc grabbed the envelope, and sure enough, Sid's neat printing was on the corner, with an address. "You think I should go over?"
"They are probably waiting for you right now, wearing shitty dollar store eyepatches." Carey grinned, and Marc covered his eyes. "It's your duty to go over there and distract them before Geno buys a parrot."
"Parrots are assholes," Marc said decisively, and scrambled to his feet. "Carey, you're a good buddy."
He took the red pen with him. He had a few suggestions to make.