(no subject)

[unironickylorenfan]

[As soon as Drunk Shakespeare's wrapped up, Liam sneaks Marty out to the rusted cars and presents him first with a cupcake (and burns himself immediately with the cheap plastic lighter he uses to light the sparkler stuck in it) and a grocery bag brimming with junk food — assorted candies, jerky, chips, cosmic brownies, a bag of jumbo marshmallows, and a can of cherry-flavored vodka-infused whipped cream. Once the novelty's worn off, he digs a small duffle bag out of one of the cars' trunks and hands it over. It contains an assortment of fire-based goodies: a very manly scented candle, a pack of flash paper, packets of campfire color change powder, a finger flasher, and packs of sparklers and bottle rockets. At the bottom of the bag there's a simple tarot card. Liam's written "Mahasiah may be The Chariot, but you're my Star. Happy Birthday." on the back.]

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[survivalof]

Even though Marty has already had a large slice of ice cream cake featuring his own left pectoral muscle, he wastes no time in taking the sparkler out of his cupcake so he can dig into it. He's still licking his fingers clean of icing when he starts pawing his way through the bag full of junk food, his expression delighted with each new find.

He's sure that's the entire gift, so when Liam pulls out a whole duffel bag full of additional gifts, he laughs and mutters, "Holy shit, dude." He sets it on the closed trunk of the car it had come from so he has room to take out every item and investigate it one by one. In the dark, he nearly misses the card at the bottom, but catches it as he pulls out the pack of bottle rockets. "Thank you," he says, then leans in to give Liam a kiss. "What does the star mean, though?"

[unironickylorenfan]

Liam beams, happy to have caught Marty off guard with the second bag and just as delighted to watch him pick through everything. He tilts himself forward to meet Marty's lips, angling his chin up after to press a second, quicker kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. "Happy Birthday."

"Well," he begins, touching the card in Marty's hands. He'd half-anticipated the question, but can't help but feel a little bashful in the moment. Though, with Marty, he knows, there's no reason to be shy. "The Star is, like, calm after a storm. Like, a balm." His words come slowly, picked with care; his eyes stay on the card. "It's feeling hope and being able to look to the future, again, after feeling hopeless. It's a beacon. It's...being able to love freely." He looks up, again, smile pressed from the effort of not laughing at how ridiculous this all sounds out loud. "Um, among other things."

[survivalof]

Each of them has a hand on the card, staring down at it while Liam speaks. Calm. Hope. A beacon. Marty swallows hard. When he looks up, Liam is smiling, near laughing, but Marty isn't. He grabs Liam and pulls him in for a tight hug. "Asshole," he says into Liam's shoulder. Then he's quiet for a while, like he might not have anything else to say. "You said I make this easier for you, but... You make it so much harder for me." He pulls back so he can see Liam's face again, but doesn't release him. "It was a lot easier not giving a shit, you know? About what happened, or anyone, or anything really. But I give a shit about after now." His face is scrunched up with the effort of trying to figure out how to put words together in the least bad way, but there's a hint of a grin tugging up one side of his mouth. "Hah. Harder."

[unironickylorenfan]

Unprepared and caught off guard, Liam's eyes go wide when Marty reels him in. His breath catches, but as soon as Marty's arms are around him, Liam matches the gesture, pressing his face into his boyfriend's hair. When Marty calls him an asshole, he laughs and only reluctantly lets Marty draw back.

He listens, expression inscrutable. Marty's words tie themselves up like ribbons in Liam's chest. An ache, but not that sharp terror he's used to feeling when Marty's expression screws up — no fear of rejection, of abandonment. No, it's more like longing. Wanting Marty to know that he understands, wanting him to feel the certainty — the love — that he, himself, feels. He pulls one hand back so that he can run his thumb over Marty's jaw.

"How many damn times," Liam starts, voice soft and sweet and barely more than a whisper. "Do I have to tell you that making you suffer is my kink? Of course I'm gonna make your life harder." He's chewing on his lower lip by the end of the thought, biting back against a grin. Still, his smile pulls wide and when he exhales, it's a breathy laugh. For once, Liam doesn't wonder why Marty keeps him around. "I'm here to help you deal with it, too, though."

[survivalof]

Marty tilts his head to the side, pressing into Liam's touch. The part about his 'kink' makes Marty laugh. "Knew it," he says with a nod. He runs his thumb over the card still in his hand, behind Liam's back. "I know you are."

He breathes in deeply and lets it out as a heavy sigh. They both have exploration tomorrow. Only two doors left, and Marty is sure it's only going to get harder the closer they get to the end. He can't imagine life after Finchwood, going back to normal high school and trying to entertain himself like a normal teenager without the constant thrill of battle. But he has also started to dread what could happen in the Shadow World too. "Listen. I know it's a tough ask, but... If anything does happen to me, I want... you to be okay." He remembers Liam's mom showing him their text messages, they way Liam had been wilting. "Not that I'm planning on it, 'cause you know I'm a bad ass, but..." But if it comes down to protecting his squad, he knows what he would choose.

[unironickylorenfan]

The change in Liam's expression is subtle. A slight dimming of the light in his features, barely noticeable in the night. He had been very drunk the last time they'd had a conversation like this, a mess, and Marty had been the one to hold him together. Always the one keeping him from going to pieces. Even with the roles now reversed, it's still Marty who feels like the stronger of the two of them. Because Marty's words, his tone, pull Liam's heart in too many directions. Because there's always so much danger. Because he knows, he could never be okay.

But he'd also made his own promises—to his squad, to himself. They would get through. They wold hold together until they could all begin to mend. Losing Marty is not a wound Liam could heal from, but Liam also knows that he wouldn't — couldn't — let it stop him. So, no, if something happens to Marty, he'll never be okay, but, "I'll keep going." He says against a growing tightness in his throat.

Liam wraps himself around Marty, drawing him close again. They fit, seamless; two puzzle pieces, damaged but matched. Marty is always strong, and Liam is always soft. Always vulnerable. But maybe it's not a bad thing, being the one who needs to believe that everything will be okay. "I'll keep going," he repeats into Marty's ear, holding him tight, concentrating on the words. Making them real. A prayer. A spell. A promise. A shield. "I'll keep going, and you will, too."

[survivalof]

It's not quite what Marty had asked, and he does notice how Liam avoids actually saying that he would be okay, but it's acceptable. He can't force him to promise a full recovery, not honestly. When Liam presses close again, Marty squeezes him too tight. He may be all jagged edges, but he refuses to let the other boy unravel. Liam is too important to him. He hasn't been troubled by worrying what he would do if anything happened to Liam because he can't even consider it. It's like trying to visualize a billion — his brain just isn't capable,

Liam's breath is warm against his ear, almost ticklish, and Marty smiles. "Yeah. We will," he agrees. Liam is the smart one, and if he says it, Marty can believe it. He leans back against the trunk, clumsily pulling Liam with him. "Now, you feel like blowing some stuff up?"

[unironickylorenfan]

There's no time to dwell on potential futures or wallow in fear where Marty's involved. He crushes Liam's worries in his arms, seals the cracks in Liam's composure, then drags him right on to other, better things. Liam's feet slip across the dirt and he stumbles awkwardly against Marty, one hand clutching the back of his shirt, the other slapping against the trunk lid when he throws an arm out to steady himself. And just like that, it's just the two of them and everything else is left behind.

"Alright, Godzilla." He laughs, accidentally bumping his nose against the side of Marty's face, then, feeling suddenly and unspeakably thankful for Marty, slowing to more gently nuzzle him there, too. "Mm, it's your birthday," he presses his lips to the sharply angled point where his jaw and his cheek meet, murmuring against his skin. "We can blow up whatever you want."