Tweak

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Tweak says, "ET, stop slacking. Phone home!"

Roger James Timothy Davies (rogeringdavies) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2014-08-29 19:32:00

Entry tags:

character: marcus flint, character: roger davies, status: complete

RP: Boys at the Pub
Who: Roger and Marcus, OPEN if you want to join the boys

What: People watching, discussion of tomorrow's match, a bit of flirting, and butterbeer

Where: Finnigan's

When: Friday Evening

Rating: SFW will change depending on language

Roger was in an excellent mood when he stepped into Finnigan's. He'd spent the afternoon chatting to Harry in the park until it'd been time for Harry to pick up his godson, and Roger to come down and have his usual pre-game drink with Marcus. Non-alcoholic of course, he didn't want to risk his performance the next day, or accidentally push his unrequited flirting too far. With that in mind, he'd apparated home just long enough to have a quick shower and get changed into something more suited for a night at the pub with someone gorgeous. He headed downstairs to the Den, and after looking around, saw Marcus quietly listening to the Canons battle the Magpies in what sounded like a close game.

Shaking his head slightly and smiling affectionately, Marcus ordered two butterbeers at the bar and headed over to sit next to his friend. "Hey stranger," he said by way of greeting as he sat down. "You're looking gorgeous as usual. How's the game going?"

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rogeringdavies
2014-08-31 06:08 am UTC (link)

Marcus' voice was slightly strained, no doubt in disapproval of Podd's antics. "'Course I got them back Marc," he replied easily. "I'm surprisingly good at getting my underwear back from people, no idea why."

Roger looked up directly into Marcus' eyes. "Thank you," he said genuinely. "I know confidence is important I just..." he smiled sardonically, "I guess I just don't want to be seen to have a big head, you know?"

He grinned triumphantly as the laugh escaped Marcus' lips. It was dark and slightly sexy, and came out almost grudgingly as though Marcus regretted it, but it was honest so Roger chalked it down to a win. "She's not as bad as O'Brady was before he retired," he said, his chest vibrating with laughter at the thought of their old keeper. "Do you remember the time he got walloped over the head with his own broomstick by that little old witch in Suffolk?"

He looked down at Marcus whose face was oddly animated, and had to forcibly repress an errant and traitorous urge to run his fingers through the other man's hair. "No problem," he said with a smile instead. "I'll get us another round." With a last nod, he turned around and strode over to the bar, glancing back once to see that Marcus' eyes were still on him.

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marcedflint
2014-09-01 09:36 pm UTC (link)

There was no response Marcus could think of that was appropriate for that comment, so he let it go with a small shake of his head and a slight snort that might have been amusement.

"Confidence and ego are two entirely different things," Marcus stated, although he could understand the sentiment of keeping a positive image. Merlin, he knew that feeling better than most. "One is necessary, and the other is detrimental."

Grinning, he added, "And then he got a ten minute lecture about 'respecting one's elders'." Which had been highly amusing to watch, especially given the man's shocked face as he listened, unable to get away without making even more of a scene.

Marcus nodded, and said, "I'll be here." It wasn't as though he had anywhere else to be, and he enjoyed spending time with Roger outside of practice and games, which couldn't be said of all their teammates. He watched Roger walk away, unconsciously committing the sight to memory, until he realized what he was doing and forced himself to stop. When he saw the other man glance over his shoulder, he offered him a small smile before turning his head away, internally berating himself for thinking such things about someone he dared to consider a friend.

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rogeringdavies
2014-09-02 08:25 am UTC (link)

Roger grinned impishly at Marcus and punched him in the arm lightly. “Not that I’d actually want Podd to have anything to do with my underwear under normal circumstances, there’s people I’d be much more interested in uh…” he trailed off, going slightly pink as an errant thought about the man next to him, sans-underwear entered his mind.

He smiled wryly, nodding his head. “I know they are Marc, I just,” he looked around, vainly trying to explain why he found confidence so deeply attractive in say Marcus, but automatically attempted to appear humble himself. “It’s not that I’m not confident,” he said at last, smiling brightly. “I know I’m very good. It’s just that growing up, well we couldn’t afford-“ he paused with a grimace, “The kids in my village they- well, I was already different, so I guess it’s just an instinct to not make myself a target you know?” He shut his eyes for a moment, then shrugged and gave the other man a winning smile. He didn’t often talk about his childhood in Oxfordshire, where he and his mother had survived on her Healer’s wage. Surrounded by Muggles and with no magical families for miles around, Roger had been instructed to blend in as much as possible, and he’d mostly succeeded.

“Merlin’s teeth, I almost miss him sometimes you know,” Roger said, laughter vibrating in his chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever known someone to get injured quite so often, in quite so many ridiculous ways.”

Roger grabbed two more butterbeers, placing an outrageously exorbitant tip down as he did so, and headed back to Marcus. He sent down, his knee accidentally brushing Marcus’ own, sending a jolt of electricity up his body. He kept their knees touching as he handed the drink over, before breaking the contact to sit more comfortably. “So I was wondering what you’re doing after the game next week,” he asked casually. “Mellie – that is my friend Melinda – wants to set me up on a date, and while I’m sure the woman is lovely I just…” he made a face, and chuckled. “Well if I were say hanging out with my friend Marcus, then I would be able to firstly avoid an awkward date, and secondly spend time with someone I like and who probably won’t simper at me like the last girl did. You are very much not someone who simpers Marc, and I’ve always appreciated that about you.”

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marcedflint
2014-09-02 12:26 pm UTC (link)

It had taken Marcus a while to get readjusted to these sorts of casual touches, to the fact that not every gesture was a precursor to violence. The war and Azkaban had left their marks on his psyche, and it had taken time before he'd stopped flinching away from anyone who reached out to him. He considered it a sign that things had changed for the better that his only reaction to Roger's playful punch was another slight roll of his eyes. A part of him was desperately curious about whatever thought had made the other man blush, even as he reminded himself that it wasn't any of his business.

Listening closely, Marcus thought he could intellectually understand Roger's reasoning, even if his own childhood had been quite different than the one Roger described. "Sometimes blending in is the path of least resistance," he agreed with a slight nod of his head. Of course, it was that sort of thinking that had landed him in prison, but even now, after having years to contemplate it, Marcus didn't think he would have done anything different - after all, he'd managed to survive mostly intact, which had been his driving motivation in the first place.

He was so absorbed by both his own, slightly dark thoughts, and the innocent touch of Roger's leg against his own that it took him a moment to understand what the other man was saying. Ruthlessly crushing the part of him that wanted to twist the words into Roger asking him for a date, he shook his head as he answered, "I didn't have anything particular planned." Trying to lighten the mood, he continued with a small smirk, "And I've never been very good at the simpering thing."

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rogeringdavies
2014-09-02 02:15 pm UTC (link)

Roger snorted slightly, charmed by Marcus' simple understated way of empathising with him. "Blending can also be an excellent way to stop the village bully from handing your arse to you as well," he said, with a slight shake of his head. "It may not always be right, but going with the flow can sometimes be the wisest choice at a particular moment."

"You do not understand Marc Flint, how exactly much you have just literally saved my arse," Roger crowed with a huge grin. "Spending time with someone I genuinely like and admire is so much better than spending time with someone who either wants to shag me, get on the team, or sell some gossip to Witch Weekly." Privately, he felt that he might be doing Melinda a bit of disservice. She wasn't actually likely to set him up with anyone horrible, but the idea of spending a night with Marcus - even if the other man had completely missed the fact that Roger had basically asked him over for a date - well, it was worth not meeting the girl Melinda had lined up. He stopped and looked at Marcus thoughtfully. "I have a tellie, maybe I could introduce you to the dubious joys of Muggle television - you're always saying you'd like to learn a bit more about Muggle life." He paused for a moment, his eyebrows shooting up, before breaking into a delighted laugh. "Rowena, I love you sometimes do you know that? I'm sure there must be some way to make you simper though. A hot massage after a long match? Reading a book during a thunderstorm? Oh wait those are things that would make me simper. Damn!"

Taking a swig of his drink, he stretched languidly, exposing his stomach and the tops of his cotton boxers for a moment. "So, what type of food shall I order in? Indian? Chinese? Persian? I know a tonne of great places. Any preferences. I suppose I could apparate over this way and grab something from Mellie's shop unless you'd want to?"

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marcedflint
2014-09-02 09:48 pm UTC (link)

It was impossible not to return Roger's smile, not when the other man was so enthusiastic, and Marcus felt a hint of a grin tug at the corners of his own mouth. It died slightly as the other man expounded on the possibilities of the kind of date he was avoiding, and he had to wonder if that was what it was like for all his teammates, a thought that made him glad he'd long ago decided that any sort of romance was more trouble than it was worth.

"Don't mention it," he replied with a small hand gesture, because really, it wasn't any trouble on his part. It wasn't as though spending time with Roger was a hardship in anyway.

Marcus flushed very lightly at the comment about learning anything about Muggles - it had been one of those throwaway things he'd mentioned offhand exactly once, and he was once again surprised that Roger had remembered. A part of him hoped that no one had overheard their conversation, because that was something he didn't need getting back to, say, his mother. Merlin, the woman would skin him alive, possibly literally.

Chuckling again as Roger continued, he tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at hearing him say I love you, since it was so obviously a joke. "I'll never tell," he said instead of anything else.

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rogeringdavies
2014-09-03 04:05 am UTC (link)

Roger felt his stomach drop as the other man actually grinned at him. After a great deal of thought, he'd eventually decided long ago that making Marcus smile was one of his favourite pastimes. He frowned as the smile dimmed slightly, and placed his hand on Marcus' wrist.

"But I want to mention it," he teased, his hand still on the other man's wrist. "Because you're awesome, and one of best people I know." Casually, he removed his hand and took a swig of his drink. Wondering idly if there was something to the rumour that butterbeer could still lower your inhibitions.

Roger noted Marcus flush at the Muggle comment with a sort of empirical interest. He forgot, sometimes that there were still pockets of purists about, and from what he could deduce about Marcus' past, he rather strongly suspected that at least one of the man's parents still held to those ideals - at least in private. "Hey now, you're secret's safe with me

His eyebrows shot up and his lips quirked. "You'll never tell what, big guy," he asked, his half smile fighting to turn into a full blown grin. "You'll never tell what type of take-away you want, or what would make you simper?" He leaned back and tilted his head to one side. "The food's easy, if you don't tell I'll just order everything. The simpering is a curiosity that my Ravenclaw mind is beginning to latch onto. Although really," he added thoughtfully. "You strike me as more of the long, drawn out manly moan kind of guy. Possibly, vocalising the word 'yes'." Helpfully, he made the noise to emphasise his point. "You know, like biting into one of your favourite foods, or finishing the last page of a really good book, or..." he trailed off, a bit of tightness occurring below, before grinning. "Or when we win the championships this season."

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marcedflint
2014-09-03 02:45 pm UTC (link)

Doing his best to ignore the warmth of Roger's hand, and the way his arm felt so much colder once the touch was removed, Marcus shook his head slightly, and said, "You need a bigger social circle if someone like me can rank that highly." He was really only half joking, because since they were teammates it was reasonable for them to be friends as well, but his upbringing meant that he was never quite able to completely ignore the ramifications of social interactions. For himself, being seen with Roger was probably a good thing for his reputation, but he couldn't help thinking that the exact opposite was true for the other man. His conviction and time served meant that people could form an opinion of him that was mostly negative, even if he'd been released and had done nothing to warrant those sorts of thoughts since.

"Thanks," he said in a tone that could be considered sarcastic, though he was serious about the appreciation. As much as he would have liked to not be able to care if others knew of his interest in the other side of life, he was aware that he still had far too much to lose at this point if that sort of information fell into the wrong hands.

He'd completely forgotten that there had been a question about food, so he just shrugged as he said, "Seeing as I've never had any kind of take-away," - he was exacting in his pronunciation of the word, since it was something he was saying for the first time - "I couldn't tell you what I'd want."

Marcus had to close his eyes briefly against the implications of that, and instead focused on only the last part of the statement. "As long as we keep out act together, we'll have a shot at the title at the very least," he comment, and then took a long sip from his own bottle to avoid having to say anything else.

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rogeringdavies
2014-09-03 03:57 pm UTC (link)

Roger shook his head and looked at Marcus seriously. "No, I don't. I have a big enough social circle, and I like you being part of it. I know you have," he paused, smiling strangely. "Stuff that makes you think you're not good for my image or something, but honestly I don't care. You are you, yes?"

He snorted at the sarcastic lilt in Marcus' voice. "You're welcome, dear. Hell, you might even like it. I definitely want to drag you with me when I get my next tattoo too," he said expansively, thinking of the reason why Marcus always wore long sleeves. "Hades, you could even get one as well!"

Roger felt his smile grow as Marcus forced the word 'take-away' out of his mouth like he'd never spoken it before in his life, which Roger was willing to concede, he may well have not. "It's just like eating at a restaurant," he said reassuringly. "Except you can do it at home in your underwear while watching tv or listening to the the WWN. Have you ever had Persian or Indian or Chinese before?" He licked his lips, momentarily imagining Marcus eating Indian food with him in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs.

"'Course we will," he said reassuringly. "Last week was a fluke, I bet you something ridiculous - like full on snogging the person of your choosing - that we won't lose another game this season. How's that for confidence versus ego, Captain?"

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marcedflint
2014-09-04 12:52 am UTC (link)

Although Marcus didn't necessarily agree with Roger's assessment, he couldn't explain voice his difference of opinion without it sounding as though he didn't appreciate their friendship, which couldn't be further from the truth. "I am only myself," he agreed quietly after a slight pause, a slight shrug of one shoulder as he spoke.

At the mention of getting another tattoo, Marcus could only hum thoughtfully as he said, "Maybe. Not sure if I'd ever want one." He paused briefly and then conceded, "Another one." Because he didn't have the best associations with that process, his right hand unconsciously moving to check that his left forearm was still covered, a vague memory of sharp pain trying to stab its way into his mind. He shoved that away, forcing himself on concentrate on the here and now.

"That is entirely different from eating at a restaurant," Marcus answered with a hint of a smirk, mostly just to be contrary because he could. "And no," he added, "I've never had any of those." He'd been curious about them, since he'd come across a few recipes that were supposedly from those cultures, but they had been a little more complex than what he was used to cooking in his own kitchen.

Arching one eyebrow, Marcus answered somewhat primly, "I would never bet on us losing. Besides, how would that even work, without the consent of the other party?"

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rogeringdavies
2014-09-04 11:48 am UTC (link)

"Yes you are," Roger agreed, slightly more passionately than he intended. "And who you are is amazing." He scratched the stubble on his jaw idly and tilted his head. "And my friend, I feel like I need to reiterate that. I get all Hufflepuff about my friends okay?"

He glanced over at Marcus' covered arm and then back, a small smile playing on his lips. "I don't know that you quite get my point," he said gently. "Tattoos don't have to go somewhere new, they can cover up old ones. The piece on on my back actually covers up something I used to have there." He'd actually given this a great deal of thought ever since he'd come to the conclusion that Marcus' actions during the war, while his own, had been forced upon him. A number of vague conversations about Muggles and blood purity, along with oblique references to Marcus' mother had made up Roger's mind about the situation, and he'd decided to address the issue.

He snorted at Roger's openly contrary manner. "It is totally different from eating at a restaurant, way more comfortable though." He flashed Marcus a grin. "Not that I think I could get you to eat it with me in your underwear," he added, with a good natured laugh. "You're like Mellie in that way." His eyes widened in surprise and he leant forward. "You've never- Oh my goodness Marc. Okay I'm officially getting us Indian food for dinner then," he said, pausing to consider logistics for a moment. "And officially asking you whether you'd like to instigate post-game weird food night with me? I can show you the world!"

Roger chuckled and winked. "I don't know, I could think of a someone who I'd like to give a commiseratory kiss to if we lost a game," he said, his eyes dropping to Marcus' pillowy lips as he bit his own. His eyes snapped back up to Marcus' as he replied, "Although I would never kiss someone without their consent. That's just not Quidditch."

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marcedflint
2014-09-04 05:54 pm UTC (link)

"Okay," Marcus conceded, knowing better than to argue any more. It wouldn't serve any purpose other than possibly upsetting Roger, which wasn't something he ever set out to do intentionally.

He saw the way Roger's eyes looked over to where the Mark was hidden, something he was unfortunately rather accustomed to - once someone knew it was there it was difficult to forget it, and part of the reason he never let it show. Having a tattoo was never something he'd ever given much thought to until it had happened, and since then it was a topic he tended to avoid, given exactly what was inked into his skin. But Roger's suggestion was actually rather intriguing, and he knew it was going to be stuck in his brain, something he would keep coming back to. "I supposed I've never considered that," he commented quietly. "Something to think about, I guess."

Rather than be led down a path of conversation about eating and what was acceptable attire for doing so in certain situations, Marcus arched an eyebrow again and commented, "What is it with you and your underwear today." He couldn't help chuckling at Roger's facial expression and subsequent outburst, and after a moment of thinking about, shrugged lightly and answered, "Sure, why not. Maybe I'll even make something for you one day." Marcus didn't normally cook for anyone more than himself, but the few times he had had gotten favorable responses.

Knowing that Roger didn't mean anything by his flirtations didn't meant that Marcus was immune to the way that those sorts of comments, especially combined with the look the other man gave him, made his stomach drop slightly in something that could be desire or anticipation or something else entirely. "Obviously," he said after what was probably too long of a pause.

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rogeringdavies
2014-09-05 04:33 am UTC (link)

Roger smiled, delicately letting the matter drop. It was important to him that Marcus knew how important he was to him, well maybe not quite not how important, because that would probably end disastrously, but he also didn’t want to upset Marcus or push him away.

He went very still, watching the other man for any sign that he’d overstepped some sort of boundary. He was aware that his tendency to sometimes view problems empirically and dispassionately – as things to be logically solved – occasionally got him in trouble. “You should think about it,” he replied, relaxing slightly. “You’d be able to, I don’t know, wear t-shirts?”

“I like my underwear,” he said, grinning impishly. “I bought them in a Muggle shop, see,” he leaned back and lifted his shirt to show the top of his boxer briefs, emblazoned with the words Calvin Klein. “Do you like them?” he asked, innocently. His eyebrows shot up in pleasure and surprise. “Really,” he asked, hoping beyond hope that he didn’t look like a kid on Christmas morning. “That’s awesome!” He gave Marcus an questioning look. “You’ll cook for me? I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure have I?”

He watched Marcus’ expression go blank for a long moment, internally berating himself for being so stupid and obvious in his infatuation. Closing his eyes and blushing, he took a long drink, suddenly wishing it was alcoholic. “Yeah,” he replied, rather lamely. “We have to be gentlemen right? Can’t go around being misogynistic twats can we?”

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marcedflint
2014-09-05 10:26 pm UTC (link)

"I will," he assured Roger, because Marcus was sure that now that it had been implanted, he wasn't going to be able to get the idea of another tattoo out of his head. Of course, he was far more concerned with not having to see the Mark - and people's reactions to it - than his choice in clothing, but the end result was the same, he supposed.

Rather than respond verbally to Roger's statement and subsequent action, Marcus smoothed his fingers over his forehead lightly, his elbow resting against the table so that the movement covered his eyes and half his face, which he could feel hearing slightly at the display. Shaking his head lightly again, he looked back at the other man once he'd safely asked a question about a different topic. "Yes, really, I will cook for you," he answered, amused. He shrugged up one shoulder as he answered, "Probably not. I tend to only cook for myself, most of the time."

Sensing that he'd somehow said something that had put Roger off - though Marcus had no idea what that might have been - he was about to apologize when the announcer rattled off the final score of the game, and he couldn't help looking towards the wall the sound was emanating from, his eyebrows furrowed as he said, "Huh. Wouldn't have thought that would end in a draw."

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rogeringdavies
2014-09-06 10:24 am UTC (link)

Roger grinned and sighed in relief. Getting a tattoo to cover Marcus' mark would be an important step on his road to forgiving himself and moving on with his life. He figured that although his preferred method of getting Marcus to move on and forgive himself would have involved them both naked and on top of one another, a tattoo was a pretty good alternative too.

While it wasn't much, making Marcus blush did bring a certain amount of pleasure to Roger - even if it wasn't so much Roger's stomach, as any open display of flesh that made Marcus blush - the way that he religiously avoided looking at Roger in the changing room and showers proved that. Idly, he wondered what it would be like if he could elicit a blush or a shiver for his own sake, rather than simply because what he was doing embarrassed Marcus. "You realise don't you Marc that if you cook for me you'll never be rid of me. The way to my heart is through my stomach, and our friendship would be cemented for life," he said, poking his tongue out, before taking on an earnest expression. "Though really, you're stuck with me anyway. I look forward to trying your cooking though!"

Roger sat, internally berating himself for being a coward and not suggesting that he kiss Marcus if they lost another game, when the game ended in a draw. "That's... Unexpected," he agreed, taking out his watch and grimacing. "As much as I'd like nothing more than sitting and talking with you all night," he started sincerely, "It's probably best if we head home and get some sleep before the big game." Standing, he reached over and pulled Marcus into a one armed hug, breathing in his scent for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow before practice yeah?" With a wink, he disapparated.

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marcedflint
2014-09-06 03:07 pm UTC (link)

"If I'm never going to be rid of you anyway, then cooking shouldn't make much of a difference, should it?" Marcus asked dryly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. As nice of a thought as it was to consider that Roger's affections could be won with food alone, he was relatively sure that things didn't actually work that way, no matter what old sayings dictated.

Standing when the other man did, he nodded his agreement about the match, he was taken off guard by the gesture, awkwardly frozen for a moment before remembering how normal people dealt with this sort of thing, one hand coming up to awkwardly pat Roger's back between his shoulder blades. "Yeah," he said when the other man pulled away, taking a second to realize what he was agreeing to. "See you tomorrow."

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