Marcus Flint (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} marcedflint) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
Marcus was more nervous than he'd like to admit about their plans for going to Wingbeat this evening. The parade in Muggle London hadn't been so bad, even with the crowd that was larger than what he was used to dealing with. It had been outside, which had helped with no feeling confined, and he had been concentrating more on making Roger explain all the things he didn't understand going on around them. The club was likely to be a completely different atmosphere though, and one he wasn't sure he knew how to navigate.
Still, Roger had seemed excited by the prospect, and Marcus had a very difficult time saying no to his lover, though he had stood by his decision to wear real trousers instead of whatever insanity the younger man might have thought up. As they got closer, Marcus took in the sight of people in a variety of clothes that were unlike anything he'd seen before today, all of them heading in the direction of Wingbeat like they were.
Reaching out, he took a hold of Roger's hand, twining their fingers together to ensure they didn't get separated in the crowd. The small gesture still felt more significant that it probably should have, but it was no longer quite the production it had been for him at the start of their relationship. "So," he started to say, and then realized that while he didn't quite know what to expect, he wasn't sure how to phrase that question, letting the word hang in the air between them.