Chapter Text
Going for walks has always helped to clear Connor’s head. It’s nice, to just be outside, be away from everything. There’s no one around, no one there expecting things from him. He likes them best in the winter, he likes the way the cold seems to set the boundaries of his skin in more precise definition, like he feels more real when the air is chilly. It’s grounding, brings him comfort. Peace. He knows he probably doesn’t deserve it, but if he doesn’t seek it out he’ll make things even worse. So, he’ll make do.
Except– he’s not really paying attention. Because why would he, there’s no reason to, no one ever walks back here, and it’s early enough that the sorts of people who might cause trouble aren’t yet awake enough to bother.
Apparently, he probably should have been.
Connor’s not- Well, he’s found people attractive before. He had been a teenager, not so long ago, and dealt with all the ‘excitement’ that came with it. But it had always been… Almost, abstract. Theoretical.
Nothing like the sudden magnetism pulling him towards the stranger he’s just spotted.
Sure, the man is beautiful–built like a statue, with a face to match–but the attraction here feels… different, more than just an acknowledgement of his aesthetic appeal.
Unfortunately, Connor only gets to come to this realization after he’s bumped into said gorgeous stranger. Shit.
Markus had just been minding his own business. He had gone out early in the morning, before the sun had truly risen, to get in some exercise before waking his father, but that plan was suddenly and painfully halted as he ran into the man with the big brown eyes and the pretty face.
Markus nearly fell back on his ass, but managed to stay standing, only stumbling back a few steps instead. He had run around the corner of a building, a thing he knew better than to do blindly, and it had put him right in the arms of a handsome man.
“Woah there.” Markus smiles his most dazzling smile, eager to impress the pretty boy. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.” He places a steadying hand on the stranger’s shoulder, as much to touch as to comfort.
Markus finds himself wanting to touch this man. “My name is Markus. Are you good?”
Connor’s eyes go wide. Normally, he wouldn’t want to be touched. Normally, it’d leave his shoulder itching for hours.
He finds he doesn’t mind.
Not with Markus, which is apparently the stranger’s name.
“My name is Connor,” he offers, and he hates the way his voice comes out because it sounds like he doesn’t care, despite the fact that he’s clearly interrupted what should have been a peaceful morning.
“I’m- I’m fine. Thank you.” He holds Markus’ gaze for what he knows is a moment too long, because he’s noticed the man’s gorgeous mismatched eyes. “I’m the one who wasn’t paying attention. It’s nice to meet you.” Connor knows there’s an embarrassing flush rising to his cheeks, but he hopes it’s subtle enough that he can pass it off as the cold; he knows he isn’t quite dressed ‘appropriately’ for the weather.
Markus is dressed in smart workout gear, with a warm track jacket over the top to protect against the early November chill. Connor, however, is dressed in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants.
Markus’ brow furrows in concern. “Are you? Okay, I mean.” He found himself suddenly worrying about the pretty boy.
Carl always warns against helping strangers in any personal way, but Markus wants to offer Connor a warm place to go and a cup of hot cocoa. It is freezing out and the guy doesn’t even have a jacket. “Is there someone we could call to come get you? Do you have anywhere to go? My place isn’t far from here…”
“No- I- Ah, you don’t need to call anyone. I’m fine. Really.” Shit, the guy’s pretty and nice. Shit. He attempts a reassuring smile.
Connor can’t let him go.
Which, okay, what? That’s- That’s a creepy thing to think. Where did that come from?
The idea of seeing him leave makes something in Connor’s chest do anxious backflips.
Shit, okay. Whatever.
“I- I do have somewhere to go. But… I don’t really want to go back there.” That sounds bad, it’s not really that bad- “Not right now, at least. It’ll be fine. I wouldn’t mind spending a little longer with you, though.”
And that came out way too flirty. Oh god.
Markus’ smile returns at that. He didn’t really want to leave Connor just yet. He is mostly done with his run and he knows a coffee shop that opened at five in the morning. It is nearly that time.
Markus bites his lip and looks down the street. “Do you want to get a coffee with me? I’ll buy.”
He looks at Connor again and he can’t help but want to fall into those earthy eyes. He swears right then and there to at least make sure Connor has his number before they leave each other’s presence.
“You don’t have to do that- but a coffee sounds great.”
Connor realizes that Markus’ hand is still on his shoulder. He doesn’t even mind. He thinks maybe he likes it. His cheeks further darken at the realization, and he steps back before whatever weird creepy part of him that has suddenly surfaced can make more strange and possessive declarations.
“What time is it? Is anything even open?”
Markus’ hand falls away from Connor’s shoulder as the other man backs up and Markus immediately misses the touch. He ignores that feeling though and nods. “Yes. Well, no. There’s a coffee shop near here called The Velvet Bean. It opens in about…”
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and looked at the time. “Five minutes? It opens in five minutes. I go there on the way back from my morning runs. They also serve hot cocoa and food, which is nice.”
All of a sudden, Connor can’t remember the last time he’s eaten.
He needs to make sure Markus eats, too.
“That sounds great!” His shoulder feels cold, like a ghost of Markus’ palm has been burned into his shoulder, more sensitive than the rest of his skin. “I don’t usually see anyone else awake this early. It’s- nice.”
Apparently all it takes to make Connor behave like an idiot is a gorgeous smile and an offer for coffee. He thought he was better than this.
“It is nice.” Markus gestures for Connor to follow and starts leading him down the block towards the little coffee shop.
His hand feels hot where he had touched Connor. He wants to do it again immediately but can’t think of an excuse, so he shoves his hands in his pockets to restrain himself from touching someone he reminds himself is basically a stranger. Markus is curious about Connor though. “So what brings you out on the street this early in the morning without a jacket?”
“Ah- I like the cold. Grounding.” Connor’s not going to mention the actual why, because he gets the general impression that Markus would immediately try to comfort him, and he doesn’t need to do that to him. It’s certainly not fair.
It’s probably colder than he thought it was, though, because Markus has stuffed his hands in his pocket, and Connor tries to ignore the way his fingers itch when he thinks about Markus’ hands.
“Besides, I’m sure you appreciate the peace of a morning walk. Well, when you’re not getting run into.”
Markus lets out a chuckle and nods. “I’m pretty sure I’m the one that ran into you, but if you want to take the blame, I’ll let you.”
He turns his head to look at Connor and winks playfully, amping up the flirting just a bit. “I just didn’t expect to run into someone so handsome this early in the morning. I’m glad I did, though.”
What.
What. What. What. What. What.
Connor’s pretty sure his brain has just absolutely broken, because that’s truly the only thing he can think. The heat has bloomed from his cheeks to all the way down his cheeks and onto his neck, and he’s sure he’s got the red face to match.
Sure, he had started it, but it wasn’t like he meant to-
Except it was absolutely right to-
Shit.
Okay.
He can handle being flirted with. Not- Not exactly how he thought his morning would go. Not after-
Okay, he’s not gonna think about his mom when he’s standing in front of a gorgeous man who’s clearly at least willing to entertain the idea of Connor being in the same league as him for a while.
Instead, he aims for a playful shoulder bump, because he wants to be close to Markus again, and while he can’t quite figure out how to respond, he doesn’t want Markus to stop, either.
The urge to wrap an arm around Connor’s waist and pull him in surges through Markus like a shot. He grabs the insides of his pockets and forces his hands to stay there instead.
It’s inappropriate to fondle strangers, he reminds himself, and Connor is still a stranger.
They arrive at the coffee shop and Markus holds the door open for Connor. “Order whatever you like, I’m still paying.”
Markus decides to be just a little cheeky. He doesn’t even know if Connor is gay or not yet, but he guides Connor into the coffee shop with a hand on the small of Connor’s back, before shoving his hand back in his pocket.
Oh, okay, so there’s- Okay. Is- Is Markus coming on to him? Is that- Is that what this is?
He likes how close Markus is.
There’s no one else in the coffee shop, yet, other than the one exhausted employee. Connor is glad, because without anyone to see him make a fool of himself, he might be able to actually reciprocate. Well, anyone besides the clerk, but they don’t care.
Is- Would it be weird-
Fuck.
Now he’s staring at Markus’ lips, and Markus definitely asked him for something, but he was so busy looking at the way Markus’ mouth had pulled itself around the shape of the words that he’d forgotten to listen.
If he doesn’t do something, he’s pretty sure his heart is gonna stop, but there’s a fine line between flirty and sexual harassment and he does not trust himself to fall on the right side of it.
Markus’ hand on his back feels like it’s absorbing the anxiety coiled around his spine.
Would- Would a hug be okay?
That’s not creepy, right?
No, it’s definitely creepy.
Shit. The less anxious Connor finds himself, the more his body is trying to remind him that it’s currently before sunrise and that it would really rather be sleeping.
Okay. Coffee. He needs a coffee.
The attendant, whose name-tag declares him ‘Daniel,’ has apparently been staring, and Connor swallows thickly.
“Hello. Can I get a double espresso, please?”
The employee frowns at him, but nods. He stares at Markus expectantly.
Markus doesn’t know where this need to touch Connor is coming from. Yes, Markus is a generally touchy guy, but he doesn’t usually put that on strangers. He decides it’s fine if he just does it a little bit.
He places his hand back on the small of Connor’s back again as he orders. “Can I get a caramel vanilla macchiato and a bacon breakfast sandwich?” He leans a little closer as he turns to talk to Connor.
Is it creepy that he can smell the other man? He smells so good, like freshly fallen snow. Maybe Markus is just smelling the cold on Connor. “Do you want something to eat?”
Connor’s about to open his mouth to say no, thank you, because he really doesn’t need Markus to spend any money on him, when his stomach decides it’s the perfect time to join the conversation. And Markus’ hand is on his back again, and they’re so close that he can smell the way that Markus smells like a forest after rain, so Markus definitely heard it. His ears hurt from how much he’s blushing, which makes him feel stupid.
“Yeah-” And Connor has to look over the menu, because of course he didn’t think to look at it before, and Daniel is scowling at him like he’s the worst person in the world, which he might be, because he’s thinking about Markus’ lips again rather than what he needs to eat. “Uh- Can I get the same thing he got?”
And Daniel raises his eyebrows, and Connor feels so judged. Is that- Is that weird? Should he have gotten something else?
Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s-
Weirdly, it’s easier to handle, with Markus this close to him. With his spring-rain scent and warm touch and easy presence.
He doesn’t want Markus to go.
Daniel rings it up and Markus has to withdraw his hand from Connor to pay. “Thanks Daniel, you’re the best.”
Daniel just gives a tired grunt like always. Markus guides Connor over to a table at the back of the shop to wait for their order.
Would it be weird to sit on the same side of the table as Connor? Probably. Markus reluctantly sits across from him instead. “Are you always up this early?” Markus leans in, elbow on the table, chin in his hand. “What do you do for work?”
Okay, Connor really needs to get himself under control, because Markus’ face is absolutely stunning in the soft light of the shop, and he’s tempted to count the freckles that spatter his cheeks because it might be something more like eye contact than keeping his gaze fixed on the gentle stubble that frames his mouth.
“I- Ah. Sleep and I don’t know each other very well.” He takes a sip of his too-hot coffee, because that’s definitely not how you’re supposed to talk about insomnia. He doesn’t know Sleep very well, but that’s because she usually stays on the other side of the veil. He’s just also an insomniac. “I- I do odd jobs. My mom doesn’t like when-” Shit. Okay, no, he’s normal and likeable. He’s not gonna talk about Amanda. He takes another gulp of espresso, because the burning in his mouth and throat is easier to deal with than the burning on his cheeks.
Markus could stare at the little moles that dot Connor’s face for days. Honestly, the man is beyond pretty. Markus loses track of what Connor said and has to take a second to remember it. “Odd jobs?”
Markus sat up a little straighter as Daniel delivered the sandwiches. He takes a sip of his drink. “Thank you, Daniel.” He let the cashier walk away before he spoke again. “You know there’s no shame in caring about what your parents think. I ask my father for all sorts of advice.” Markus didn’t mention that he didn’t have a mother. It was strange that Carl had adopted him as a single man and he knows it, but there was no ill intent there, as hard as that is for some people to believe.
“Yeah. She’s, ah- She’s angry at me.” Connor has to look away from Markus, because the weight of the man’s gaze on him feels like a physical pressure. “I made- Some stupid mistakes. She’s disappointed.”
Connor runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands that fall loose behind his head. He probably looks like a mess, with his curls running wild and still in his pajamas. Shit, is this, like, a pity date-
Not a date. Not a date! Not a date, nope.
Shit, Connor’s tired. When was the last time he slept?
Markus gives Connor a commiserating smile. “I understand. You know, there’s no shame in making your own decisions either.”
Markus purses his lips and thinks about it, mildly distracted by the messy way that Connor’s hair fell. The curly locks were mesmerizing as Connor’s hand swiped through them.
Markus tries to clear his head to respond. “Do you live with her? Maybe I could help get you out of the house sometimes. Let me give you my number.” He hopes that came off smoother than it felt.
Connor is so glad that he hadn’t taken a bite of his food yet, because he knows his jaw would have dropped anyway, and that would have been an absolutely horrifying response to a gorgeous guy offering him his number.
He doesn’t have his phone. Shit, shit, shit!
He can’t- He can’t-
His brain feels like it’s skipping like a record, caught on one part of the thought.
He needs to hold Markus-
He needs-
He needs-
Shit. No. He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s gone and made this gorgeous man think he’s being abused, like he’s some victim. That’s manipulative as hell. He can’t just- It’s not fair of him to use his own inability to handle criticism to get the guy’s number. The whole thing is his fault anyway.
“I- I would like that. But, she’s not- It’s not that bad. I don’t need to get out of the house. You don’t need to pity me.”
He’s just making it worse. God.
Markus laughs and lowers his head to the table, bumping it lightly before he sits back up to look at Connor. God can Markus be any more awkward? “Actually, I was just looking for an excuse to give you my number. You don’t have to take it, though. I know I’m just some random guy off the street.”
“No-” Ah, shit, that was way too fast to respond. “No, I- I’d really like that. I-” Connor tries to match Markus’ nervous chuckle, and it sounds fake even to him. “I’d like to say I’m normally better at this, but I don’t want- I don’t want to lie to you.”
Screw it. Connor decides to reach across the table, to place his hand over Markus’. It’s like there’s an entire afternoon’s sunlight buzzing beneath the bare skin, and Connor’s suddenly very aware of the fact that this is the first touch not blocked by clothes and it’s like the burning amplified a thousand times. It’s not- It’s not bad, though.
“I- Uh. I forgot my phone, though.” Not exactly true. Amanda has a location tracker on his device, and he didn’t want her to send someone to come and get him. He can’t handle that. “I can-” He swallows, and hopes it doesn’t make him look the wrong kind of thirsty. “I can give you mine.”
Connor’s skin is cool and soft over Markus’ hand. He turns his hand over to hold Connor’s. He just enjoys the feel of Connor’s skin on his own for a second before he remembers it is polite to respond.
“Of course.” Markus pulls his phone out with his free hand and navigates to his contacts, pressing the button to add a new one. He hands his phone over to Connor. “For what it’s worth, I like you the way you are. You don’t have to do better.”
All Connor can manage in response to that is an entirely undignified croak in the back of his throat. He thumbs his number into the phone–313-248-317–and after a moment’s hesitation, he types his name as ‘Connor (Ran Into You)’. After a moment longer, he puts his last name, too. ‘Stern.’ Amanda won’t like that at all.
Amanda doesn’t need to know.
She’ll know. He’ll tell her. She doesn’t normally like humans, but-
She’ll like Markus.
He hopes.
If she does anything to him-
No, what? No, Amanda wouldn’t do anything to Markus. Why would she? God, why is Connor such a creep?
He really should pull his hand away, but the very idea makes his stomach ache, so he doesn’t.
He’ll let go if- when Markus does. It’s not an if. The guy has a life beyond holding hands with a near-stranger.
God, Connor’s never- He’s never thought about someone like this before. Where is this coming from? He’s always been- antsier, during the winter. He’s always found himself harder to control. But- Nothing like this.
“Thank you,” he tries, because that’s just about the only words he can make himself choke out. He could probably get out an ‘I’m sorry,’ but that would definitely just make things worse.
Markus smiles and returns his phone to his pocket. “Thank you for what? Finding you cute, or calling you later?”
He takes a bit of his sandwich without letting go of Connor’s hand. He figures he has all the time in the world to hold Connor’s hand as long as Connor doesn’t let go. Markus will give up the touch, although reluctantly, the very second Connor pulls away.
Markus daydreams for a moment about taking Connor home. He has his own private space in the house. It wouldn’t be hard, though very little got past Carl. He wants to show Connor the garden and the art studio, though the garden isn’t at its best, it being winter and all.
Markus wonders for a second how he is getting so immediately attached to this relative stranger, but it hardly matters. Markus likes him.
Oh god. Is- Is Connor gonna do this?
It-
Fuck.
Yeah, okay. Sure.
There’s a little smear at the corner of Markus’ lip. He- He hasn’t exactly been successful in stopping his staring, and his words have failed him, but Markus is definitely flirting, and sue him, maybe he wants to get a little more before Markus comes to his senses.
He leans across the cafe table, grateful for the tiny ‘aesthetic’ tables places like this always have. He telegraphs his movements, slow as he can manage without jerking like a robot clicking through servo settings, and presses a chaste little kiss to the food on Markus’ face. Just enough to wipe it away.
Oh, that’s-
Okay. Markus has no problems with that. He flushes a deep red color at the kiss, immediately wanting to follow Connor’s lips back across the table. For a second, he almost does, raising out of the chair slightly with a small, undignified sound, before he forces himself to sit back down.
He glances at the clock on the wall behind Connor. Markus has to work in two hours and it’s not a short run back home.
He squeezes Connor’s hand and bites his lip. “I’ll call you tomorrow, but I have to get home so I can shower before work. I don’t want you to think I’m cutting this short because I want to.”
Oh that’s-
That’s normal. The fact that Markus had time to do anything with Connor at all, let alone buy him breakfast, that’s-
More than remarkable.
He doesn’t-
He doesn’t want Markus to leave.
There’s something lancing through his belly, terrified and fragile, like glass cooled too fast.
Instead, all he can do is stare, because fuck, he actually did that, he kissed a stranger, and he doesn’t-
He can’t let Markus leave.
Except he can, and he has to, because that’s creepy and the guy has work- He has a life-
Connor has to stop himself from squeezing Markus’ hand. He pulls away, instead, because he can’t be trusted. Amanda was right, she always is.
Instead of the arguments he wants to give, the best he can do is a clumsy defense. He sounds stupid.
“I’m sorry. There was- You had something on your face.” His hand is cold, cold like he’s never felt before, cold like it was dipped into liquid fire. He sits on it to stop it from shaking. “I’m- Thank you.”
Anxiety spikes in his chest, like a sea urchin has replaced his heart.
“I’ll- Will I see you again?”
Markus abandons his half eaten sandwich and coffee to stand and walk around the small table. He leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Connor’s lips, quick, before he can talk himself out of it.
His whole body rebels against the idea of leaving. He doesn’t want to walk away. He wants to take Connor home and wrap him up in blankets and just sit together. That’s insane though, because they literally met less than an hour ago.
“You’ll see me again often, if I have any choice in the matter.” He relents on his need to touch Connor’s hair, running his hand through it. It’s just as soft as it looks. “I’ll call soon, promise. Unless you think that’s creepy.” Markus was having a hard time pulling himself away. He felt like a huge creep.
“No- I-” Connor smiles, and he knows it’s the goofy lopsided smile that Amanda’s tried to train out of him, but it’s so much easier than the smile with teeth she insists on. “I was worried I was being the creep. I- Call me soon?”
It’s a monumental effort of will not to lean into the touch on his scalp, the way it sends a warmth down to his very bones, knocking the chill out of him in a way that’s pleasant like he’s never felt before.
He doesn’t want to go back to that awful, cold house.
Not when he’s just learned how good it can feel to be warm, like this.