Fallen Star (Sequel to Shooting Star) COMPLETE
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
33
Views:
17,318
Reviews:
176
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Draco
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
33
Views:
17,318
Reviews:
176
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Too Late
Chapter Number/Total: 10/32
Chapter Title: Too Late
Words: 2866 Words
Betas:
Mark had pulled the car around to pick up Harlan. He leant over and pushed open the door. "Get in," he said.
Harlan got in, closing the door behind him. He buckled himself up and glanced at Mark. "You can drive me back home later, too?"
"Sure," Mark said, putting the car in gear and driving. He headed the car up Valencia.
Harlan looked through the window as Mark drove, curiously looking at everything they passed. He wasn't sure of where they were going, but Mark must've known.
Mark found a parking space and turned to Harlan. "Just a little place I like," he said. "But we can talk here."
"In the car?" Harlan asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mark laughed. "Well, we could," he said, "but there is a little pub around the corner that has better drinks than the stale bottle of water I keep in here."
"Pub sounds better," Harlan said with a laugh of his own, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door to get out. It was after midnight and chillier than he expected, so he pulled his coat closed, waiting for Mark to get out.
Mark got out, locked the doors and joined Harlan on the pavement. He took the man's arm and led him up the street.
Harlan gently pulled his arm out of Mark's grasp. "I can follow you just fine," he said, smiling at him.
Mark shook his head but smiled. The bar was small and dim but quieter than most. They found a corner booth and the waitress came to take their orders.
Harlan didn't have much experience with ordering drinks. All he knew about was Firewhisky and Butterbeer, and he was sure they didn't sell them here. "Uhm...order for me?" he asked Mark. "Something that tastes nice?"
"Beer?" Mark asked. Then he ordered them a couple of dark beers.
Harlan shrugged, but nodded. He hoped it tasted like Butterbeer. "Thanks."
"So what changed blondie's mind?" Mark asked.
"I just asked him," Harlan said, sitting back in his seat. "A few times."
"I bet," Mark said, rolling his eyes. "So, how long you two known each other?" he asked.
"Since school," Harlan replied, smiling again.
"How long is that?" Mark asked, and then thanked the waitress when she brought their beers.
"About ten years," Harlan said, taking his glass and eyeing the frothy liquid.
Mark's eyes widened. "You can't have been but a baby then," he teased.
"We haven't been together that long," Harlan said with a laugh.
"So you met in school but weren't dating until when?" Mark asked.
Harlan decided to take a chance with the beer and took a sip, making a slight face at the taste. He blinked and smacked lips. "I think it's been about..." He paused, thinking. "...Six months."
Mark laughed at the face and his blue eyes widened at the statement. "You’ve only been together for a few months and you moved all the way here from England together? Why?"
"A change of scenery," Harlan said, taking another chance with the drink again. He wanted something sweeter than this.
"So you just moved your whole life halfway around the world with a guy you were only with a couple months?" Mark asked in a tone that sounded unconvinced.
"Yes, exactly," Harlan said, making that face again. "This doesn't taste all that good."
"What would you prefer?" Mark said, motioning for the waitress.
"Something sweeter?" Harlan asked.
Mark ordered him a rum and coke instead.
"Thanks again. I'll pay for it," Harlan said.
"No, I asked you out, so I pay," Mark said. "You can pay next time."
"Oh, okay," Harlan said, smiling at the thought of a next time. "Next time then."
"So, you didn't date in school but then you move to America with him," Mark prompted. "Why him? You two seem so different."
"Everything isn't always as it seems," Harlan murmured easily, smiling at the waitress as she set down his drink.
"You are so laidback and he is so stuffy," Mark said.
"He keeps me in order and I help him relax," Harlan said, taking a sip of his new drink. Now that was better.
"Well, that's one way to look at it," Mark said.
"See? We're perfect for each other," Harlan said proudly, sitting back with his drink. "But enough about me. I hardly know anything about you."
They talked for a couple hours, with Mark telling about growing up in the Midwest and moving to California to get away from "homophobic morons." Mark was on his fifth beer and Harlan finishing his third drink.
"That's why I like it around here," Harlan said softly, playing with the beermat. "It's so common, you know?"
"There are still homophobes here too," Mark said, "but, yeah, much better. Did you date guys before David?"
"No, not really. I liked this one girl, but she was my best friend's little sister so that was weird," Harlan said, shrugging.
"Sounds weird," Mark said. "You like girls too?"
Harlan paused to finish his drink, sucking on a bit of the ice. "I think so...well... I'm not all that sure anymore. They're nice looking though, yeah. David's better though," he rambled.
"Better be glorious in bed with that attitude." Mark laughed.
Harlan giggled, his cheeks flushing. "He makes up for it all in bed," he confirmed.
"Cock ten inches long and made of gold?" Mark teased.
Harlan laughed, shaking his head quickly. "Oh, no, I never measured it! And I'm pretty sure it's not made out of gold."
"So, he can't be that formal in bed." Mark smiled too.
"Yeah, he's different in bed. More...free...mmm," Harlan murmured, getting a far-off look in his eyes.
Mark's eyebrows rose. "Fuck, hadn't seen that look before," he said, licking his lips.
"What look?" Harlan asked, blinking and looking at him. The waitress walked by and told them it was last call, asking if Harlan wanted another and he nodded, saying thanks.
Mark smiled. "You are so much hotter than he is, you know," he said.
"No..." Harlan murmured, waving a hand at him.
"So gorgeous and you don't even see it," Mark continued. "And David acts like you are some prize he won. Like he owns you."
"Because he loves me," Harlan said, his face flushing again. "Love is a gift that not everyone gets, right?"
Mark frowned and sighed. "Was he that much of a snob in school?" he asked.
"Oh, well, you could say we hated each other in school. We always fought. Then one year...it just changed." Harlan accepted the drink from the waitress. "He changed. I changed, too, I guess."
"You fought?" Mark asked, smiling. "This I gotta hear. Tell me about it."
"He was a bit of an arse," Harlan said, smiling softly at the memory. "He didn't like me and my group of friends, and I didn't like his, so we were always against each other in everything..."
"Really?" Mark said, grinning. "Did you ever hit him?"
"A few times," Harlan said, thinking more of the spells rather than the punches. "He broke my nose once."
Mark's eyes grow wide. "Broke your fucking nose?" he repeated, shocked. "Did you get him back?"
Harlan laughed a little, sipping at his drink. "You could say I did," he said, not mentioning the fact that he nearly killed him.
"Wow, and here you are living with him," he said. "How did you get over that stuff?"
"We…matured, I think," Harlan said seriously, setting his glass down. "That was years ago."
"Well, I think you are better than he deserves," Mark said, leaning forward with his chin in hand, elbow on the table and smiling at Harlan.
"How do you think that when you don't really, really know him?" Harlan asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"You wash dishes and do all the hard work," Mark said. "I bet you even end up doing the dishes at home."
"I like doing the dishes," Harlan said, defending his job. "And he helps me do them at home, too."
Mark shook his head and looked sceptical. "So what do you want to do with your life?" he asked, changing the subject.
"I...haven't really thought about that much," Harlan admitted, taking a long sip of his drink.
"You don't want to wash dishes for the rest of your life," Mark said.
"Well, no, I'm just not sure of the rest right now, though," Harlan said quietly.
"I thought about art school," Mark said. "But I don't really have the money for that."
"You should save up the money you're getting now and try for it anyway," Harlan said, glancing at him.
Mark smiled. "Want to see some of my drawings?"
"Sure! You carry them around with you?" Harlan asked, looking curious.
"No, but my place is just up the block," Mark said.
"Ohhh," Harlan said, nodding a few times. "I have to be home soon, but I want to see them.” He hesitated. “So okay."
They got up and Mark paid the tab. He caught Harlan's arm when the man swayed, smiling at him.
"Thanks," Harlan said, smiling back. He managed to walk outside, laughing softly every time he would sway and stumble.
"Here, take my arm," Mark said. "It's not far."
Harlan hesitated before gripping Mark's arm, not wanting to trip and fall over. Maybe it was because of how much he had drunk, but Harry seemed to realise then how strong the man’s arm was. Mark was a little taller than Harry, with what was probably an average build. But Harry could feel the muscle under the shirt as he hung on.
Mark put a hand over Harlan's, steadying him as they walked to his building. He slipped an arm around Harlan's waist to help him up the stairs.
Harlan glanced down at Mark's arm around his waist, idly thinking about David back at home. They were just friends and that was all. Even if the man holding him did feel good.
Mark leant Harlan against the wall and got his keys out to unlock the door. "I wasn't expecting company, so it's kind of a mess," he said, holding the door for Harlan.
"It's okay," Harlan murmured, walking inside and glancing around curiously. "I like it..."
Mark closed the door and turned on a light. It was a small one bedroom and reasonably clean, but cluttered. He steered Harlan to the couch, helping the intoxicated man sit down. "Want something to drink?" he asked, fingers picking nervously at his jeans.
"No, thank you," Harlan replied, sliding down in the couch. "So where's your art?"
Mark fumbled around for a bit and pulled out a sketchpad and then dropped to the couch beside Harlan, setting it in his lap.
Harlan leant over, waiting for Mark to open the book for him.
Mark moved closer, his thigh pressed alongside Harlan's and reached across the other man, opening the book.
The loose brown curls of Mark’s hair brushed Harlan’s cheek as he did and Harlan shivered. He blinked in surprise as Mark drew back again and began turning pages. Harlan drew his attention to the sketchbook. They were mostly character sketches, drawings of people. As he turned there were a number of nudes as well.
Mark turned the pages slowly, explaining the story behind each drawing.
"You draw people naked, too," Harlan said with as if he were in awe. He looked up at Mark. "They let you?"
Mark smiled, raising his eyebrows, blue eyes sparkling. "When I’m lucky," he said. "I would love to draw you too."
"Naked?" Harlan asked, his eyes wide as he blushed hard.
Mark's eyes shone with amusement, smiling as he nodded. He turned the page again, to a sketch of Harlan's face.
Harlan glanced down at the book again, tilting his head. "That's me... When did you do that?"
"Oh, took me a while, without you posing for it," Mark said. "Much easier if someone holds still. Not something you do much though."
Harlan glanced back up at him, his cheeks still red. "Sorry. I would've if told me you wanted to draw me."
Mark had been leaning over to look at the drawing with the other man, and when Harlan looked back up, it brought their faces within inches of each other. He closed the distance, gently pressing his lips to Harlan's.
It took Harlan a moment to react to Mark kissing him. When he did, Harlan leant back quickly, shaking his head. "You know I have a boyfriend," he said quietly. The kiss had felt good, but there was no way he was giving into this.
"Yeah, I know," Mark said sadly, reaching to cup Harlan's chin.
Harlan shivered at the touch, swallowing hard. "I just wanted a friend," he explained, looking in the man’s eyes. Very blue eyes, he thought.
Mark sighed and let go, leaning back. "I know," he said sadly. "Sorry, I got carried away."
"It's okay, just, don't tell David, okay?" Harlan didn't want to see his reaction to this all.
"Course not, I'm not suicidal," Mark said. "That guy is scary sometimes."
"He's sweet," Harlan said softly, looking down at the sketchbook again. "He just gets jealous sometimes."
"Jealous, and with a look in his eyes that makes me think he could hurt me with a thought," Mark said, shivering at that.
"Ah, yeah...I know," Harlan muttered, reaching for the book and pulling it into his own lap.
"Will you still pose for me sometime?" Mark asked.
"I can't do it naked..." Harlan said softly, blushing a bit as he flipped through the book again.
"Well, we can start with you clothed, I suppose," Mark said, smiling.
"It's better for both of us if I stay clothed," Harlan said, not looking up at him yet.
"Will you answer a question truthfully?" Mark asked.
"Depends on the question," Harlan replied, glancing up at him.
"If you didn't have a boyfriend, would you be interested in me?" Mark asked.
Harlan could not tell Mark he found him attractive, even if it was true. Of course, without David, he would never have met Mark. "I guess so..." he mumbled.
"Not too sure of that?" Mark asked, looking disappointed.
"No, I mean. You're really nice, Mark...and creative. I just...maybe if you were in England and I saw you there and I wasn't taken, I would be," Harlan said.
"Guess that's as good as I'm going to get on that," Mark said, a sad smile on his face. Then he took a deep breath and seemed to work at cheering up. "But we're still friends?"
"We're still friends," Harlan said, smiling at him.
"And next time I can sit you down and draw?" Mark prompted.
"Yes, clothed," Harlan reminded him with a shy grin. Not only would David definitely not approve, but then he would have to explain the scars.
Mark sat back and nodded, smiling at him.
"Good..." Harlan looked down at the book, brushing his thumb over a drawing. "You are really good at it. You should just be accepted to art school for free."
"That would be nice, but not the way it works," Mark said. "Even if they waived tuition, I would have to have some way to pay rent and eat."
Harlan sighed, holding the book out for him to take. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll find a way one day."
"Thanks," Mark said, yawning and tossing the book on to the table before leaning back again.
Harlan leant as well, closing his eyes. He just intended to rest for a minute. He woke with a start later, finding himself leaning against Mark who had also fallen asleep. He looked around for a clock and saw that it read 5:12 AM. "Oh, it's so late! I have to go back home now!"
Mark sat up and stretched. He blinked a few times, looking at the clock too. "Not even sunrise for another hour," he teased.
"That late? Oh, David's gonna be mad..." Harlan insisted, getting up.
Mark snorted. "When isn't he?" he quipped, but got up and reached for his jacket.
"He's not always mad, but he'll be mad now." Harlan bit his lip nervously as he stood by the door, waiting for Mark.
Mark sighed and opened the door, holding it for Harlan and then locking it behind them when they left. "You act like he's your dad and you broke curfew," he said.
"I promised him that I'd be back early," Harlan said, gripping the staircase railing as he got a little unsteady.
"Early morning count?" Mark asked, arm around Harlan's waist again as he helped him down the stairs.
"No," Harlan murmured, smiling a little at Mark.
Mark drove Harlan home, remembering the location from before. They pulled up in front just as the sky was lightening in the east.
"He's going to kill me..." Harlan muttered, glancing up at the building as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
Mark frowned. "You shouldn't have to be afraid of your own boyfriend, Harlan," he said, reaching a hand out to lie on Harlan's.
"I'm not afraid...it's more like nervous," Harlan said quietly, pulling his hand away and reaching to open the door.
Chapter Title: Too Late
Words: 2866 Words
Betas:
Mark had pulled the car around to pick up Harlan. He leant over and pushed open the door. "Get in," he said.
Harlan got in, closing the door behind him. He buckled himself up and glanced at Mark. "You can drive me back home later, too?"
"Sure," Mark said, putting the car in gear and driving. He headed the car up Valencia.
Harlan looked through the window as Mark drove, curiously looking at everything they passed. He wasn't sure of where they were going, but Mark must've known.
Mark found a parking space and turned to Harlan. "Just a little place I like," he said. "But we can talk here."
"In the car?" Harlan asked, raising an eyebrow.
Mark laughed. "Well, we could," he said, "but there is a little pub around the corner that has better drinks than the stale bottle of water I keep in here."
"Pub sounds better," Harlan said with a laugh of his own, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door to get out. It was after midnight and chillier than he expected, so he pulled his coat closed, waiting for Mark to get out.
Mark got out, locked the doors and joined Harlan on the pavement. He took the man's arm and led him up the street.
Harlan gently pulled his arm out of Mark's grasp. "I can follow you just fine," he said, smiling at him.
Mark shook his head but smiled. The bar was small and dim but quieter than most. They found a corner booth and the waitress came to take their orders.
Harlan didn't have much experience with ordering drinks. All he knew about was Firewhisky and Butterbeer, and he was sure they didn't sell them here. "Uhm...order for me?" he asked Mark. "Something that tastes nice?"
"Beer?" Mark asked. Then he ordered them a couple of dark beers.
Harlan shrugged, but nodded. He hoped it tasted like Butterbeer. "Thanks."
"So what changed blondie's mind?" Mark asked.
"I just asked him," Harlan said, sitting back in his seat. "A few times."
"I bet," Mark said, rolling his eyes. "So, how long you two known each other?" he asked.
"Since school," Harlan replied, smiling again.
"How long is that?" Mark asked, and then thanked the waitress when she brought their beers.
"About ten years," Harlan said, taking his glass and eyeing the frothy liquid.
Mark's eyes widened. "You can't have been but a baby then," he teased.
"We haven't been together that long," Harlan said with a laugh.
"So you met in school but weren't dating until when?" Mark asked.
Harlan decided to take a chance with the beer and took a sip, making a slight face at the taste. He blinked and smacked lips. "I think it's been about..." He paused, thinking. "...Six months."
Mark laughed at the face and his blue eyes widened at the statement. "You’ve only been together for a few months and you moved all the way here from England together? Why?"
"A change of scenery," Harlan said, taking another chance with the drink again. He wanted something sweeter than this.
"So you just moved your whole life halfway around the world with a guy you were only with a couple months?" Mark asked in a tone that sounded unconvinced.
"Yes, exactly," Harlan said, making that face again. "This doesn't taste all that good."
"What would you prefer?" Mark said, motioning for the waitress.
"Something sweeter?" Harlan asked.
Mark ordered him a rum and coke instead.
"Thanks again. I'll pay for it," Harlan said.
"No, I asked you out, so I pay," Mark said. "You can pay next time."
"Oh, okay," Harlan said, smiling at the thought of a next time. "Next time then."
"So, you didn't date in school but then you move to America with him," Mark prompted. "Why him? You two seem so different."
"Everything isn't always as it seems," Harlan murmured easily, smiling at the waitress as she set down his drink.
"You are so laidback and he is so stuffy," Mark said.
"He keeps me in order and I help him relax," Harlan said, taking a sip of his new drink. Now that was better.
"Well, that's one way to look at it," Mark said.
"See? We're perfect for each other," Harlan said proudly, sitting back with his drink. "But enough about me. I hardly know anything about you."
They talked for a couple hours, with Mark telling about growing up in the Midwest and moving to California to get away from "homophobic morons." Mark was on his fifth beer and Harlan finishing his third drink.
"That's why I like it around here," Harlan said softly, playing with the beermat. "It's so common, you know?"
"There are still homophobes here too," Mark said, "but, yeah, much better. Did you date guys before David?"
"No, not really. I liked this one girl, but she was my best friend's little sister so that was weird," Harlan said, shrugging.
"Sounds weird," Mark said. "You like girls too?"
Harlan paused to finish his drink, sucking on a bit of the ice. "I think so...well... I'm not all that sure anymore. They're nice looking though, yeah. David's better though," he rambled.
"Better be glorious in bed with that attitude." Mark laughed.
Harlan giggled, his cheeks flushing. "He makes up for it all in bed," he confirmed.
"Cock ten inches long and made of gold?" Mark teased.
Harlan laughed, shaking his head quickly. "Oh, no, I never measured it! And I'm pretty sure it's not made out of gold."
"So, he can't be that formal in bed." Mark smiled too.
"Yeah, he's different in bed. More...free...mmm," Harlan murmured, getting a far-off look in his eyes.
Mark's eyebrows rose. "Fuck, hadn't seen that look before," he said, licking his lips.
"What look?" Harlan asked, blinking and looking at him. The waitress walked by and told them it was last call, asking if Harlan wanted another and he nodded, saying thanks.
Mark smiled. "You are so much hotter than he is, you know," he said.
"No..." Harlan murmured, waving a hand at him.
"So gorgeous and you don't even see it," Mark continued. "And David acts like you are some prize he won. Like he owns you."
"Because he loves me," Harlan said, his face flushing again. "Love is a gift that not everyone gets, right?"
Mark frowned and sighed. "Was he that much of a snob in school?" he asked.
"Oh, well, you could say we hated each other in school. We always fought. Then one year...it just changed." Harlan accepted the drink from the waitress. "He changed. I changed, too, I guess."
"You fought?" Mark asked, smiling. "This I gotta hear. Tell me about it."
"He was a bit of an arse," Harlan said, smiling softly at the memory. "He didn't like me and my group of friends, and I didn't like his, so we were always against each other in everything..."
"Really?" Mark said, grinning. "Did you ever hit him?"
"A few times," Harlan said, thinking more of the spells rather than the punches. "He broke my nose once."
Mark's eyes grow wide. "Broke your fucking nose?" he repeated, shocked. "Did you get him back?"
Harlan laughed a little, sipping at his drink. "You could say I did," he said, not mentioning the fact that he nearly killed him.
"Wow, and here you are living with him," he said. "How did you get over that stuff?"
"We…matured, I think," Harlan said seriously, setting his glass down. "That was years ago."
"Well, I think you are better than he deserves," Mark said, leaning forward with his chin in hand, elbow on the table and smiling at Harlan.
"How do you think that when you don't really, really know him?" Harlan asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"You wash dishes and do all the hard work," Mark said. "I bet you even end up doing the dishes at home."
"I like doing the dishes," Harlan said, defending his job. "And he helps me do them at home, too."
Mark shook his head and looked sceptical. "So what do you want to do with your life?" he asked, changing the subject.
"I...haven't really thought about that much," Harlan admitted, taking a long sip of his drink.
"You don't want to wash dishes for the rest of your life," Mark said.
"Well, no, I'm just not sure of the rest right now, though," Harlan said quietly.
"I thought about art school," Mark said. "But I don't really have the money for that."
"You should save up the money you're getting now and try for it anyway," Harlan said, glancing at him.
Mark smiled. "Want to see some of my drawings?"
"Sure! You carry them around with you?" Harlan asked, looking curious.
"No, but my place is just up the block," Mark said.
"Ohhh," Harlan said, nodding a few times. "I have to be home soon, but I want to see them.” He hesitated. “So okay."
They got up and Mark paid the tab. He caught Harlan's arm when the man swayed, smiling at him.
"Thanks," Harlan said, smiling back. He managed to walk outside, laughing softly every time he would sway and stumble.
"Here, take my arm," Mark said. "It's not far."
Harlan hesitated before gripping Mark's arm, not wanting to trip and fall over. Maybe it was because of how much he had drunk, but Harry seemed to realise then how strong the man’s arm was. Mark was a little taller than Harry, with what was probably an average build. But Harry could feel the muscle under the shirt as he hung on.
Mark put a hand over Harlan's, steadying him as they walked to his building. He slipped an arm around Harlan's waist to help him up the stairs.
Harlan glanced down at Mark's arm around his waist, idly thinking about David back at home. They were just friends and that was all. Even if the man holding him did feel good.
Mark leant Harlan against the wall and got his keys out to unlock the door. "I wasn't expecting company, so it's kind of a mess," he said, holding the door for Harlan.
"It's okay," Harlan murmured, walking inside and glancing around curiously. "I like it..."
Mark closed the door and turned on a light. It was a small one bedroom and reasonably clean, but cluttered. He steered Harlan to the couch, helping the intoxicated man sit down. "Want something to drink?" he asked, fingers picking nervously at his jeans.
"No, thank you," Harlan replied, sliding down in the couch. "So where's your art?"
Mark fumbled around for a bit and pulled out a sketchpad and then dropped to the couch beside Harlan, setting it in his lap.
Harlan leant over, waiting for Mark to open the book for him.
Mark moved closer, his thigh pressed alongside Harlan's and reached across the other man, opening the book.
The loose brown curls of Mark’s hair brushed Harlan’s cheek as he did and Harlan shivered. He blinked in surprise as Mark drew back again and began turning pages. Harlan drew his attention to the sketchbook. They were mostly character sketches, drawings of people. As he turned there were a number of nudes as well.
Mark turned the pages slowly, explaining the story behind each drawing.
"You draw people naked, too," Harlan said with as if he were in awe. He looked up at Mark. "They let you?"
Mark smiled, raising his eyebrows, blue eyes sparkling. "When I’m lucky," he said. "I would love to draw you too."
"Naked?" Harlan asked, his eyes wide as he blushed hard.
Mark's eyes shone with amusement, smiling as he nodded. He turned the page again, to a sketch of Harlan's face.
Harlan glanced down at the book again, tilting his head. "That's me... When did you do that?"
"Oh, took me a while, without you posing for it," Mark said. "Much easier if someone holds still. Not something you do much though."
Harlan glanced back up at him, his cheeks still red. "Sorry. I would've if told me you wanted to draw me."
Mark had been leaning over to look at the drawing with the other man, and when Harlan looked back up, it brought their faces within inches of each other. He closed the distance, gently pressing his lips to Harlan's.
It took Harlan a moment to react to Mark kissing him. When he did, Harlan leant back quickly, shaking his head. "You know I have a boyfriend," he said quietly. The kiss had felt good, but there was no way he was giving into this.
"Yeah, I know," Mark said sadly, reaching to cup Harlan's chin.
Harlan shivered at the touch, swallowing hard. "I just wanted a friend," he explained, looking in the man’s eyes. Very blue eyes, he thought.
Mark sighed and let go, leaning back. "I know," he said sadly. "Sorry, I got carried away."
"It's okay, just, don't tell David, okay?" Harlan didn't want to see his reaction to this all.
"Course not, I'm not suicidal," Mark said. "That guy is scary sometimes."
"He's sweet," Harlan said softly, looking down at the sketchbook again. "He just gets jealous sometimes."
"Jealous, and with a look in his eyes that makes me think he could hurt me with a thought," Mark said, shivering at that.
"Ah, yeah...I know," Harlan muttered, reaching for the book and pulling it into his own lap.
"Will you still pose for me sometime?" Mark asked.
"I can't do it naked..." Harlan said softly, blushing a bit as he flipped through the book again.
"Well, we can start with you clothed, I suppose," Mark said, smiling.
"It's better for both of us if I stay clothed," Harlan said, not looking up at him yet.
"Will you answer a question truthfully?" Mark asked.
"Depends on the question," Harlan replied, glancing up at him.
"If you didn't have a boyfriend, would you be interested in me?" Mark asked.
Harlan could not tell Mark he found him attractive, even if it was true. Of course, without David, he would never have met Mark. "I guess so..." he mumbled.
"Not too sure of that?" Mark asked, looking disappointed.
"No, I mean. You're really nice, Mark...and creative. I just...maybe if you were in England and I saw you there and I wasn't taken, I would be," Harlan said.
"Guess that's as good as I'm going to get on that," Mark said, a sad smile on his face. Then he took a deep breath and seemed to work at cheering up. "But we're still friends?"
"We're still friends," Harlan said, smiling at him.
"And next time I can sit you down and draw?" Mark prompted.
"Yes, clothed," Harlan reminded him with a shy grin. Not only would David definitely not approve, but then he would have to explain the scars.
Mark sat back and nodded, smiling at him.
"Good..." Harlan looked down at the book, brushing his thumb over a drawing. "You are really good at it. You should just be accepted to art school for free."
"That would be nice, but not the way it works," Mark said. "Even if they waived tuition, I would have to have some way to pay rent and eat."
Harlan sighed, holding the book out for him to take. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll find a way one day."
"Thanks," Mark said, yawning and tossing the book on to the table before leaning back again.
Harlan leant as well, closing his eyes. He just intended to rest for a minute. He woke with a start later, finding himself leaning against Mark who had also fallen asleep. He looked around for a clock and saw that it read 5:12 AM. "Oh, it's so late! I have to go back home now!"
Mark sat up and stretched. He blinked a few times, looking at the clock too. "Not even sunrise for another hour," he teased.
"That late? Oh, David's gonna be mad..." Harlan insisted, getting up.
Mark snorted. "When isn't he?" he quipped, but got up and reached for his jacket.
"He's not always mad, but he'll be mad now." Harlan bit his lip nervously as he stood by the door, waiting for Mark.
Mark sighed and opened the door, holding it for Harlan and then locking it behind them when they left. "You act like he's your dad and you broke curfew," he said.
"I promised him that I'd be back early," Harlan said, gripping the staircase railing as he got a little unsteady.
"Early morning count?" Mark asked, arm around Harlan's waist again as he helped him down the stairs.
"No," Harlan murmured, smiling a little at Mark.
Mark drove Harlan home, remembering the location from before. They pulled up in front just as the sky was lightening in the east.
"He's going to kill me..." Harlan muttered, glancing up at the building as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
Mark frowned. "You shouldn't have to be afraid of your own boyfriend, Harlan," he said, reaching a hand out to lie on Harlan's.
"I'm not afraid...it's more like nervous," Harlan said quietly, pulling his hand away and reaching to open the door.