Vincent leaned back against the cheap motel chair, towel still damp around his shoulders from the shower, trying to scrub his hair dry. He was relaxed—or at least he thought he was—until Marcus tilted his head lazily, eyes glinting with something more dangerous than confusion.
"Tom," Marcus murmured, voice husky, dragging the name out like velvet. "You really took your time in there. Did you enjoy making me wait?"
Vincent blinked, caught off guard. "What?" He tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out too high, too sharp.
Marcus's lips curved into a slow smirk. "Don't play innocent with me. You always take long showers when you want me restless. And then you come out… looking like that."his words dripped with seduction.
His gaze flicked deliberately down Vincent's bare chest, lingering at the towel barely knotted around his waist. Vincent swallowed hard. Oh, hell no. Why do I feel like the prey here?
"Look, I don't know what game you're playing," Vincent muttered, forcing a grin that felt weak even to himself. "But you're—uh—mixing things up again. I'm not your Tom, remember?"
Marcus ignored him completely, as if his words didn't exist. Instead, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, chin tilted in amusement. "You're blushing. I haven't seen that in a while."
Vincent's eyes widened. Me? Blushing? He shot up straighter, shaking his head. "I—I don't blush."
"Oh, you do," Marcus drawled, savoring every word. "Especially when I whisper in your ear about the things I want to do."
Vincent coughed into his hand, face burning so hot he was surprised the towel didn't catch fire. This guy—what the hell! Alzheimer's my ass, he's trying to kill me.
Before Vincent could retort, Marcus casually reached under the bed and pulled out a sleek bottle of liquor, its glass catching the dim light. He held it up like a magician unveiling a trick.
Vincent's jaw dropped. "Where the hell did you get that?"
Marcus shrugged, as if it was obvious. "Room service. The boy brought it while you were in the bath. I told him Tom and I were celebrating."
Vincent groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Celebrating what, exactly? My patience running out?"
But Marcus was already pouring the amber liquid into two mismatched glasses. He pushed one across the table toward Vincent, his smile infuriatingly calm. "Drink with me.we will have some fun"
Vincent hesitated doesn't know what to think when he said 'have some fun' but he never rejects alcohol .. then picked it up with a muttered curse. "You're going to be the death of me, Marcus."
"To us," Marcus said smoothly, clinking his glass against Vincent's. The sound was sharp, intimate in the silence of the room.
Vincent took a sip, the burn sliding down his throat. He was about to set the glass down when Marcus leaned closer, his breath warm against Vincent's ear.
"You always choke when I talk dirty to you," Marcus whispered.
Vincent sputtered, nearly spilling his drink. "Wh-what the hell, man! You and your Alzheimer's is killing me alive ! " His ears burned crimson, and he shot Marcus a glare, but it lacked its usual sharpness.
Marcus just smiled wider, like a cat toying with its mouse. He leaned back, tilting his glass lazily. "It's cute. The great Tom—always acting cocky—but underneath, you're just as easy to fluster as the first time I kissed you."
Vincent froze. His brain scrambled for words, but all he managed was a strangled, "I—I'm not—!"
Marcus didn't let him finish. He slid his glass aside, leaning forward until his face was inches from Vincent's , his eyes drops to his lips and focusing back to eyes, "You always deny it, but your cheeks tell the truth. They're scarlet right now." His eyes dropped meaningfully to the towel around Vincent's waist. "And that towel looks dangerously close to slipping."
Vincent's hand flew to the knot, clutching it tight, his face flaming like a furnace. "Y-you've got some nerve—!"
Marcus chuckled low, the sound vibrating through the room. "Relax, Tom. I like you better when you're flustered."
Vincent groaned, burying his face in his hands. This is insane. I've stolen from mob bosses, conned rich snobs, played with fire all my life… but this? This man is going to kill me faster than prison ever .
"Tell me , Tom can we do what we do everytime ? I'm in mood .. you in ?" Marcus's eyes had an undeniable amount of lust which made Vincent choke his own saliva
"What- no ! Ohh god ..I'm Vincent, not Tom !! Remember? You know what ?.. I don't care ! I going to sleep , good night !", Vincent could hear his own heartbeat thumping way too faster, he didn't know why. He hated the fact his cocky bastard persona changed into blushing school girl in few minutes that to for some not too dirty dialogues. He felt bit dizzy maybe due to alcohol , he didn't hold back but went into deep lumber immediately hoping atleast Marcus wouldn't speak seductively in his dreams.
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PLEASE SUPPORT PRETTY LADIES AND HANDSOME GENTLEMEN,
WITH ... FLUSTERS ,
VINCENT.
WITH COCKINESS ,
MARCUS.😉