Work Text:
“Wake up, Twain! We have somewhere to be.”
Mark cracked one eye open. He was just on the verge of waking up, but he'd rather stay in that state for a little while longer before he inevitably had to come to terms with the fact he was awake a few hours too early. He groaned, seeing John's smiling face above him, and rolled his eyes. “You're not taking me to church again, are you?” he mumbled, covering his face with both of his hands. Just a little less light! Five more minutes, mom! Don't pull the blinds!
John raised his eyebrows. “No. Why, would you wanna go again? I think it was nice last time, but we have no reason to go there ever again,” he said, tapping his chin as he thought about it. It was nice last time, at least the part where they walked down the aisle together, giggling each time their eyes met. It may not have really meant that they were married, but it was good enough for both of them. John told God everything he wanted to tell him. There was nothing left to do at church for either of them. “Unless you want to. I reckon I could drive you there, even.”
“Nooo,” Mark whined, shaking his head vigorously. “God, no. Hell no. Ain't nobody gonna drag me to church ever again.” He paused. “Guess it was nice last time.”His heart melted at the memory of skipping down the aisle. That part he didn't mind. Everything else, though, seemed really boring. The local church wasn't even one of the big ones, with the pretty stained glass paintings and everything. It was small, and he already saw everything it had to offer the first time around. He shook his head and removed his hands off his face to look at John directly. One of them had to keep the conversation on topic, and everything pointed to him having to be the one this time. “Did you wake me up just for that? C'mon, spill already. Where we going? Somewhere fun?” he asked, with impatience and hope in his voice. He was starting to seriously crave something, anything exciting.
John clapped his hands. “Oh, right! Lovecraft's back. We have to come pick him up.”
“Huh.” Mark blinked. He hadn't thought about Lovecraft in a while. “Whaddaya mean, he's back? Did he text you or something? He doesn't seem like the type to use a phone,” he said, grimacing. That'd have to be a crazy waterproof phone, considering that the last time they saw him, he'd hopped into the depths of the ocean. He'd done it many times, in fact. Sometimes it felt like he was in the ocean more than he was on land with them.
“Oh, no,” John said, putting on his pants. “I just know. He's gonna be waiting by the beach. It's a short drive away from here, you know.”
“You just know,” Mark echoed. When he thought about it for more than five seconds, it made perfect sense, really. With all of Lovecraft's freaky powers, it wouldn't be a surprise if he could beam a telepathic message into John's brain from miles away. Mark sat up on the bed and stared at John curiously. “You sure you need me to go with you?” he asked, cocking his head. John was still struggling to put on pants, but he was very dedicated to pulling it off eventually.
“Hm?” he hummed, glancing at Mark with surprise. “If you don't want to go, I guess you can stay in bed. But I figured you'd want to come along.” He finally recognised that he was putting the pants on backwards, and adjusted accordingly. It was much easier this time around. “It doesn't feel right to go anywhere without you,” he added softly, scratching the back of his head. “I guess I didn't think twice about it.”
Those words were enough to instantly warm Mark's heart. “Fine, fine, I'm going! You'd totally get lost without me, or something.” He laughed, stretching his arms above his head. “Just give me like, ten minutes or something, aight? I gotta get ready,” he said, and jumped out of bed. “I'll be real quick!”
“All right,” John said, heading out of the bedroom. “I'll grab breakfast and I'll wait next to Rocinante.” He sent Mark a crooked smile. “Just don't take long. I know how it is with you. Taking an hour in the bathroom...” And with that teasing remark, he left and headed downstairs, before he could hear what Mark had to say in response. In truth, he wasn't in that much of a hurry – the ocean would wait, and Lovecraft certainly wouldn't mind some extra time to rest in the water. But it was best not to let Mark get carried away. John said good morning to Ma, told her where he was heading, and ate a plate of scrambled eggs. Then, slowly, he headed towards Rocinante.
Mark really arrived quickly – at least by Mark standards. He panted heavily and he head bread crumbs in the corners of his mouth. “Whew,” he wheezed, “your mom gave me scrambled eggs and toast, so I had to run back and brush my teeth!”
Without a word, John opened the passenger door for him, went around and entered the truck from the driver's side. Mark hopped onto his seat and threw something in the back. Something John hadn't noticed before but, now that he looked at it, recognised it to be a backpack. He cocked an eyebrow and sent Mark a dubious look as he attempted to start the engine. “What do you need the backpack for, Twain? We're only going to the beach for a moment. I reckon we could stay for a bit, but...”
“Oh, that.” Mark waved his hand dismissively. He tried to keep smiling, but soon frowned. “I figured it's time for me to go.”
John stared at him wide-eyed. Good thing that they weren't moving yet – he no doubt would have crashed into something otherwise. “What do you mean, go, Twain?” He shook his head lightly. His round face was painted with a look deep concern. “Not forever, I hope?”
Mark couldn't help but be satisfied with the reaction he got. A smile danced on his lips. “Not forever, dummy,” he murmured, looking up at the roof of the car. “I just figured I could go on a li'l vacation for a bit, y'know.”
John started the car. He looked ahead, but sent Mark an occasional curious glance. “I don't wanna assume that's what that's about,” he said slowly, “but you know there's enough room for you and Lovecraft in the house. In my room, even. It'd be a bit cramped, sure, but we could work with it. Knowing him, he'd rather sleep in the bathtub anyway.”
“Pshhh.” Mark scrunched up his nose. “I ain't jealous! Do I look like I'm jealous?” He knew that he did, and he knew that John must have thought so too. He rolled his eyes and pouted. “As if I could ever be jealous of anybody! We're married. Kinda. You can't live without me. If I didn't know it before, I know it now,” he added softly. “Look at you, you need me so bad!” He grinned. “Naw. It just gave me an idea. Since you're driving me to the beach anyway, might as well go somewhere fun from there, right? Just for a bit!”
“Hmm...” John hummed. “Where?”
“No idea,” Mark said immediately, “guess I'll see!”
John fell silent for a good few moments. He sent Mark another curious look. “You don't like my home, Twain? You wanna get away so bad.”
Mark's heart skipped a beat. “Hell no!” he assured, putting his hand on John's shoulder. “Love your house. Love your folks. Love you, sometimes. But you know me, I can't stay in one place for too long. I'm getting to be bored outta my mind, and I don't want that. I don't wanna hate being there. That's home. The only home I got. So,” he finished, “I gotta go away so I can miss it.”
A sigh of relief escaped John's mouth. “I forgot,” he said with a chuckle, “that you can never settle down. Me, I'd love to stay home forever.” He nodded lightly. “You got me scared for a moment. Sure, go on vacation. Just be safe. And stay in touch.” He paused. “Or just – come back one day. Soon. I'll miss you, I already know it.”
“Hell, I'll miss you too. I just gotta see how much.” Mark whistled. “See, you'll miss me, but you ain't gonna be lonely. It all works, right?”
John didn't respond. The rest of the short ride passed in complete silence.
When they arrived near the beach, John hopped out of the truck and helped Mark get out as well. He pulled him into a kiss the instant Mark was outside, in his arms. He didn't need to say anything. Mark clung onto him and leaned into the kiss. It may have been the last one he was going to get for a while. He wanted to be able to taste it on his lips for as long as possible.
John took his hand and led him towards the quiet, empty shoreline. He sat down, cross-legged, and watched the waves. Mark squatted beside him, and looked ahead too, mildly distressed.
Something emerged from the ocean. Something big and dark, with black hair that resembled algae, with a mass of coiling tentacles trying to take a more human-like form. Lovecraft swept his hair out of his face and looked ahead, wide-eyed, his pupils dilating when he spotted the two men. He straightened up to his full height and shook off excess moisture. As his body took human form, it also seemed to grow clothes, like another layer of skin.
Mark couldn't help but find all of that pretty damn gross.
John slowly got back up to his feet, and pulled Mark along. He shook the sand off his pants and looked up with a bright smile. Mark stood behind him, squeezing his hand tightly. Despite his initial discomfort, he found that he was genuinely happy to see Lovecraft. Maybe if he was in a better mood, he would have found it in him to find this scene cool – like something out of a movie.
“Hello, buddy,” John said, and his voice was soft and fond. He waved his hand at Lovecraft, who finally looked almost normal – whatever that meant for him. “Long time no see. You're ready to go?”
Lovecraft blinked slightly out of sync. “I had. A nice nap. Not long enough.” He sighed. “Never long enough. But I wanted to see you.” He hummed, coming closer. “I missed you. A lot,” he added, emphatically. His words were mostly directed at John, but Mark was definitely included in the sentiment. Their eyes met, and Mark instinctively smiled up at the other.
“Oh boy,” John laughed. “Yeah, it's never enough. Especially not for you.” He turned towards Rocinante. “Well, let's pack you in there, huh? My family's already waiting for us. I bet they're preparing something.”
“Well,” Mark piped up, grabbing him by the wrist, “I'll be going, right?” He kissed John's lips. And again. “I'll be back!” And again. “By the way, I told your Ma about it.” And again, and again. “Told her I'll be back in like, a week. So you don't gotta tell!” He turned towards Lovecraft. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed his face, and kissed his cheek. “Take care of him, aight?” h whispered. And before either of them could respond, he grabbed his backpack and ran off.
John and Lovecraft watched him until he disappeared from view. Only then did Lovecraft slowly turn towards John. “Where did he go?” he asked.
“I dunno. Somewhere,” John responded with a shrug. “I didn't ask. I don't think he even knows. But he'll be back. Just like you.” He turned once again towards Rocinante. “Well, we'd better get going.”
Lovecraft followed him without hesitation, trekking through the sand to reach the familiar truck.