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English
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Published:
2019-11-03
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1/1
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If You Can't Get Your Own Smiles, Borrowed is Fine

Summary:

Reader is feeling a bit low, and has decided to make their way to clowntown for an emotional pick-me-up

Work Text:

The green rooms of clowntown were never exactly the most hospitable place to hang out. Aside from the usual motley crew of unstable clowns ( no one on Marvus’ team would kill you, necessarily, but that doesn’t mean injury wasn’t a threat when a clown was on a rager), the hygiene of the place left something to be desired. Sweat, spilled faygo, sopor slime usually smeared on the walls, as well as a medley of other fluids you usually didn’t care to think about. Combine that with the odors usually wafting from the concert pits out front and, well.....it took some getting used to, to say the least. You showed up to see him after his concerts when you weren’t busy, but all told, not your favorite locale on Alternia.

 

Usually Marvus’ dressing room was a bit nicer. In fact you could probably head back there now, but...something kept you rooted to the couch, curled up and facing away from the door. The same as when you’d first walked in and collapsed there a couple hours prior. Mindlessly scrolling through Chittr, barely absorbing what you were seeing but incessantly refreshing. 

 

You weren’t feeling up to it. That was happening more and more lately. It was odd, like the more friends you made, the more that empty spot inside you seemed to gape. And the harder it was to face it. It was like...how much more could you give? Or not give...devour. That’s what it felt like. Like you were one of those perpetually hungry insect lusii that demanded blood from their charges at all costs. Never satisfied, only in search of the next friendship meal.

 

And it was starting to burn you out.

 

That wasn’t the only factor, of course. Lack of sleep. Low seratonin. General Alternian shittiness. Rainy Day Syndrome or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. You were so tired and nebulously sad that all you wanted to do was burrow into your makeshift bed back at the outpost, but you’d done that all morning. Only made you feel worse.

 

So.....you came here.

 

Marvus was busy, which is a bit like saying the sky is gray or a tealblood loves justice. Its one of those immutable facts of nature that hardly bears repeating. But you came anyways. Because coming here, even those brief snatches of moments he could usually spare you after shows were usually enough to leave you feeling a bit....more real , if that made sense. Like you were a little more tethered to solid ground.

 

It was probably useless to try and define what you were. Tagora, who’d insisted on knowing the details of  your relationship (and the name of Marvus’ usual legal representation, “just in case” he was looking for someone with a bit more “verve”) had said it was floating on the edges of some quadrant, he just wasn’t sure which one. Tyzias had bluntly asked whether you’d found a matesprit, and Polypa wanted to know if you were looking for a bit of flexibility with the moiraillegiance.

 

The truth was you weren’t sure where things stood with you. Not just because the quadrants were still relatively alien to you, but also because Marvus didn’t seem pressed to put a word on it himself. Like nearly everything he did there was a casualness to it. He seemed to enjoy your company, and you enjoyed his. He was physically affectionate, but in a manner so light it felt entirely natural. Intuitively you knew that if you ever asked him to stop, he would.

 

You weren’t fooling yourself: this was something beyond friendship. But oddly enough the ambiguity of it all was appealing. It was nice to have something without the usual batshit stakes everything on Alternia seemed to have. 

 

You were so lost in this contemplation that you didn’t notice the music fading into screams, which signified the end of a show. The green room slowly filled with idle chatter and sounds of furniture moving as the clowns unwound. But it was a hand on your arm that finally snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned your head to see a familiar face.

 

“hey” Marvus said, the usual lazy grin on his face as he looked down on you. He looked almost as beat as you felt, sweaty from the stage lights and eyelids drooping low. Despite that, you feel your troubles start to dim a bit just looking at him.

 

You smile slightly, sitting up a bit to cover his hand with your own. “hey. Finished up for the night.”

 

“ye. big crowd 2nite so the roadies r gunna b cleanin up for a while. gunna crash here 2nite and head for the next spot in the mornin.” His thumb traced a slow spiral on your arm as he cocked a painted eyebrow. “u doin aight?”

 

“...yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”  You say, hoping that pause wasn’t as long as it felt. “Why? Something wrong?”

 

“nah lol. just usually dm me when ur gunna turn up.”

 

“Is it ok that I’m here?”

 

“Mmm...” He smirks, pretending to consider it before leaning down to peck your cheek. It pulls a unwitting grin from you, despite the definite greasepaint smudge its left behind. “maybe. u wanna eat smthn?”

 

You shook your head. You weren’t hungry.

 

“aight. brb. gunna grab somethin b4 i pass out.” He rose to his feet with his usual casual grace. 

 

“Ok.” You let go of his hand. He winks and heads for the catering table.

 

There’s a warm flutter in your chest, but...not as much as you were hoping? No, that’s not fair. But you’re looking around at all these chatty juggalos and its only making you realize how tired you are. You just want to decompress right now, but he’s a chronic extrovert. He could be in here for hours, and you didn’t want to pull him away from that just to tend to your own vague emotional needs right now. 

 

With a resigned sigh, you turn back to your phone. Its fine. You’ve definitely put up with worse. And at least you’d get to spend some time with him...

 

About ten minutes later you hear footsteps behind you, getting closer, and then coming to a stop right behind your back. You don’t turn around, just scoot your legs a bit to give him the room to sit down. You hear a heavy sigh from him that you assume is the precursor to collapsing into the couch. 

 

Only to be startled by an arm slipping around your waist and hoisting you into the air. 

 

You yelp, nearly dropping your phone in surprise as you scramble to catch yourself against him. With a couple of effortless turns of your body, Marvus braces you on his hip with one arm and steadies a plate of food with the other, heading out of the room. 

 

You feel your cheeks growing warmer as you get a grip on his shoulders. None of the other clowns even spare you a glance as he walks by, but despite the apparent frequency of its occurrence you don’t think you’re ever going to get used to him carting you around like a toddler. Marvus is average height by highblood standards, but that doesn’t mean much to a tiny human. Something he takes no small amount of glee in reminding you of as often as possible.

 

“U-uh....where are we going?” You manage to splutter out. 

 

“dressin room” He said simply, nudging the door open with his foot and heading inside. The quarters, as always, are somewhat cramped, but luxuriously decked out, closets stuffed with fashionably shredded clothes, a recuperacoon in the corner, and a sectional sofa big enough to double as a bed. Not that anyone on this planet knows what a bed is. Marvus sets the plate of food down on the vanity and shakes off his jacket, trading you from arm to arm. 

 

“Er...didn’t you want to....” 

 

“mm. think they can live w/o me 4 a bit lol” Jacket successfully discarded to the floor, he tossed you on the couch like a sack of potatoes and crawled in next to you, bringing the plate with him and propping his elbow up on the arm of the couch to eat.

 

You frown, sitting up a bit. Marvus never leaves early. You’re lucky if you can drag him out after half the crew has blacked out from the faygo, and-....

 

Troll fucking jegus, did he really.

 

“....you don’t have to do this just on my behalf.”

 

He flicked his eyebrows in that infuriatingly coy way he has, like a silent question mark. “do what”

 

“Put yourself out for my sake.” 

 

Dead silence. Which from Marvus is as damning as anything.

 

You look down at the couch, suddenly unable meet his gaze. There’s a loose thread that you pick at. “Its not a big deal. Just a low tank day. I’ll survive.”

 

“if that were true ya wouldn’t be here”

 

“I wanted to see you.”

 

“so, ur seein me.” He grinned, licking a stray crumb off his fingertips. “less ur interested in seein more, cuz dan.”

 

You flush, nudging his shoulder. “I’m serious. Don’t worry about it. You can go out if you want.”

 

Marvus sighs, tugging lightly at the strings of your hoodie till you’re laying down face to face with him. He pushes some hair out of your face, claws scratching lightly at your scalp. It melts you, like always. Your eyelids lower instinctively as you lean into the touch.

 

“u think ‘m here against my wishin? shizz, babe, i ain’t that nice a guy.” He grins, continuing to stroke your hair. “‘m here cuz it don’t feel good watchin u b all low n slow. sacriligeous, if u think abt it.” 

 

His hand slowly traces from your hair, down to your side, coaxing you towards him. You give up fighting it, burying your face in your chest and wrapping your arms around him tight. He tucks his head in the crook of your neck, his breath ghosting on your skin. Like most highbloods, his skin was on the chillier side, but it contrasts nicely with the muggy heat of his dressing room. You feel his fangs gently scraping your neck as he kisses you softly.

 

“just lemme do my m-fin good deed for the day, aight?” He murmurs. “i gotcha...”

 

And somehow, you know that even if that hole isn’t getting any smaller....it sure as hell isn’t getting any bigger. 

 

Not with him around.