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Marcus Flint (marcedflint) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

"No," Marcus answered with a shake of his head. "A friend who has known me for a long time," he offered instead, though he wasn't going to throw Pansy's name out there.

"And I'd rather not see you get hurt at all," Marcus retorted, hearing a little bit of his residual anger at the situation creep into his tone, and he hoped Roger didn't think it was aimed at him. He took a deep breath and then muttered, "I've caused other people more than enough pain already." Once the words were out of his mouth, he instantly regretted them - not because they weren't true (Merlin were they true) - but because he hated reminding people, both others and himself, of the things he'd done.

Forcing himself to breath deeply for a moment, Marcus managed to calm himself back to a usual level. The neutral tattoo topic helped as well, as did Roger's grin. He could feel the corner of his own mouth turning upwards slightly as he said, "We'll see." Because although the concept itself had indeed taken root in his brain, he'd yet to figure out exactly what he would want to put on his body instead. The Mark had been a statement, albeit a negative one, and it didn't quite seem right to him to mask that statement with something trivial. So while he was partial to the idea itself, the specifics were going to take a little longer to get solidly in place, he felt.

At the question, Marcus looked down with a small smile, about to explain Rakey and her diligent manner of making sure he'd eaten properly as a child, feeling more even-keeled about the conversation, and being here overall. Of course, Roger's words just kept flowing, which really wasn't a problem, and he was content to let the words wash over him until the other man ran out of breath or things to say. At least, until the mention of Roger's mother and what she thought, which sent a wave of panic through him before he was able to rein it in. Reminding himself that that wasn't an acceptable reaction, he let out a slow breath, and gave the onion he was dicing (spell in place to keep the fumes from bothering either of them) far more concentration than it really deserved until he felt normal again.

"Well, she seems to handle that concept better than Phillipa would," he commented, not looking away from the cutting board. It was probably strange for him to refer to his mother by her first name, but he was pretty sure his family had never fallen into any definition of normal, even by Pureblood societal standards. In an attempt to move away from the topic, he commented, "You know, if you'd tried to tell me before today that you even had a filter, I'm not sure I would have believed it." His tone was aiming for teasing, and he glanced up to offer Roger a small smile to go along with it.

Starting to heat up the pan he would need to cook the bacon in, Marcus only vaguely heard Roger's response, though the word deviant came through loud and clear, and he had to stop himself from shuddering at the memory of his father saying that word in a very different context. Pushing it away, because he was getting sick of the ghosts of his past interfering with his enjoyment of Roger's company, he answered distractedly, "Don't be too sure about that."

Standing at the stove, Marcus had to look back over his shoulder at Roger's laugh, the sound drawing another small smile out of him. Chuckling to cover his blush at the thought of kissing Roger to make him stop talking, he said, "Well, if you wait ten more minutes, this will be done."