Marcus had been coming to this park in downtown London since before he could remember. The weather wasn't always pleasant, the smell wasn't always as fresh as roses, but rain or shine, Marcus would be there. It was the principle of the matter.
Of course, nowadays he couldn't come with his parents for a family picnic. They didn't like coming outside anymore. Apparently, they only ever deigned to because they thought that children needed the sun. That was okay, though, because Marcus recently acquired a dog that he could take with him.
His name was Brutus, and he was a rather tame yet dangerous-looking Cane Corso with hair that just sucked up light. Marcus just loved him, and he thought it was a quite fitting choice for him. Recently, he felt as though Brutus' appearance just resonated with his soul. It was awesome.
While the park was quite busy, hardly anybody made the effort to get close to the lake because it wasn't very pretty looking. Marcus liked its marshy waters and overgrown plants, but he could see how some wouldn't. People desperate for space would occasionally come around, but none ever stuck around long enough to perch themselves on one of the dark brass benches surrounding it. Especially not the one directly across from Marcus.
Another newer development, however, was that around 2 days after he'd gotten Brutus, a lanky young man that looked to be around the same age as him suddenly appeared and took the bench that Marcus would just stare at everyday while Brutus would bound around the lake. It was startling, but Marcus wasn't complaining. People came and went.
But he came back the next day. And the day after that. And the day after that. Eventually, Marcus realized that the man was becoming a staple in the park's scenery. He decided to take the opportunity to observe him.
The man was lanky, as established before, and rather pale, not unlike a lot of London natives who hardly saw the sun. He had freckles, though, and his hair was vibrantly red. He dressed as though he could be a professor, and the horn-rimmed glasses did nothing to dissuade the idea. Sometimes, Marcus let himself think that maybe he was looking at an Oxford man. Realistically, that wasn't very probable considering that he'd have to travel maybe an hour a day to get to this mediocre park, but anything was possible.
The man was always drawing. Dainty hands that looked as though they could belong to a pianist drifted and ghosted over the pages of a leather bound sketchbook, all sorts of charcoals staining the pale skin for hours on end. It juxtaposed beautifully, and Marcus found it quite poetic that the man created art everyday, both intentionally and unintentionally.
After a few months, Marcus was able to determine that he'd worked up an embarrassing crush on the Oxford man with the pianist hands who he'd see everyday at the park. It only took for the man not to show up one time for Marcus to genuinely worry and wonder. He actually lied awake thinking about it at night, panicking about whether or not he'd ever see the guy again. But then he saw the shock of red hair that contrasted with the surrounding green the next day and he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
It was terrible, because they'd never even talked before. Even Brutus seemed to have picked up on the little infatuation, for when he wasn't on his leash he'd go sniffing around the redhead man who never seemed too bothered by the large black dog sniffing around his feet. The first time, he'd looked up once with curious eyes before making eye contact with Marcus. He looked at Brutus, and the question was clear in his gaze. All Marcus could do was smile awkwardly and nod reassuringly, and that was all it took. The man simply pursed his lips, furrowed his brows, and got back to work with only a few glances at Brutus' retreating figure. Marcus was eternally grateful that he hadn't gotten the police called on him for not controlling his dog.
One day, Marcus was lazily allowing for Brutus to pull on his leash and lead them to the usual spot. Upon arriving, however, he found the bench absolutely covered in pigeon crap. Gross. With a sigh, he looked around at the park, weighing his options without a clue what to do. Finally, he decided he'd stay with Brutus and see where the little guy even went when he got to wondering around somewhere that wasn’t by the cute guy. Maybe there'd be an interesting find.
He'd soon come to realize that all the dog ever did was walk around the lake. When they got halfway across, Marcus looked up just in time to see the Oxford man sit in his given spot. Lucky him.
But as he watched Brutus splash around in the water, he began to think. What if he just took a seat next to the Oxford man? Would he mind? The guy usually never took up too much space and seemed pleasant enough, but Marcus didn't want to ruin what they'd had going. But maybe it was time to level it up.
Slowly, he pulled Brutus away from the overgrowth in the water, and the dog complied with a reluctant whimper. Marcus led them over by the spot, careful to make it seem like Brutus was leading him instead (just in case). He didn't have to pretend too much, because Brutus did start leading them once he caught whiff of the redhead guy.
But now, only 4 meters away with Brutus still pulling him ever closer, Marcus felt a little sick. Suddenly, it was uncomfortably hot in London and the humidity increased tenfold. Still, he sucked it up and braced himself for the interaction. But oh, it was just so surreal to see the guy so up close. The man caught sight of Brutus and a small smile appeared on his face as he watched the dog sniff around. Apparently, Marcus himself hadn't been noticed.
Marcus cleared his throat and said, "Hi!" He immediately regretted how loud it had come out when the man's head shot up, evidently startled.
"Uh, hi," the man replied tentatively, momentarily letting the charcoal pencil in his hand settle between the crevice that his sketchbook made with his body.
Marcus scrambled for something, anything to say. He tried to remember why he even said anything. Wasn't the plan to just sit down? Still, "Can I ask you something?"
"What is it?" The man asked earnestly, straightening up with concern.
"Well, I see you drawing here everyday..." Marcus trailed off.
"Yes..." the man prompted.
"What is it that you draw?" Marcus blurted, internally high-fiving himself at the utter genius of the question. How genuine.
The man seemed taken aback for a second, but he quickly recovered, answering Marcus with a smile, "Well, I draw a lot of things! Interesting things, beautiful things..."
"What are you drawing now?" Marcus asked, subtly leaning forward to convey his interest. He had to yank Brutus' leash a little when he started trying to climb the man's lap.
"I..." The man seemed to be weighing his options and deciding what to say before he sheepishly declared, "I don't want to say. Sorry."
"Why?" Marcus asked encouragingly. "I'm sure it's lovely. You always seem so hard at work."
The man bit his lip before slowly saying, "Well, you come here everyday and..."
"Oh! Do you draw me?" Marcus immediately asked. What was he to think, anyway? The guy was obviously too embarrassed to show him the drawing, and now he was pointing out how he also saw Marcus everyday. There was really only one conclusion to come to. Unfortunately, he had no filter, and he wasn't going to stop to reevaluate the situation. Steadfastly, he told the man, "You know, I think you're quite handsome as well. I'd definitely draw you if I could."
"I— no I don't! but—well..." The man spluttered and his face flushed red. Marcus felt bad for him. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Finally, the man gathered his bearings and hesitantly scooted over on the bench, offering Marcus a seat with a beckoning motion.
Marcus completely forgot he was even standing, and so took a seat next to the man. Their legs were tantalizingly close together, and Marcus couldn't believe his luck. Look how great it all turned out for him. And to think for a second he didn't want to approach the man.
After a beat of silence, the man set aside his charcoals and revealed the page of his sketchbook with flourish. "I don't draw you... I draw your dog. He's quite the beauty. Look!"
As Marcus registered the words, he began to fill with embarrassment. He must seem so conceited to the man. By so confidently assuming that the man had been drawing him everyday when it literally could've been anything else, he made himself look like a real prat.
"It's... oh. Wow. That looks exactly like Brutus," Marcus commented, trying to muster some enthusiasm and hang on to some dignity. Maybe if he didn't mention it...
The man beamed at him. "Brutus, is it?" He clarified, looking at the black dog that was currently settled at his feet with a fond glance. He looked up at Marcus again, the smile still on his face. "And what's his owners name?"
Marcus supplied his name with a corny salute, which only served to make the man's grin turn into a full blown laugh. He found himself preening at the accomplishment.
"Marcus Brutus, then? Like Marcus Junius Brutus?" The man asked, leaning back against the bench with his gaze fluttering between Marcus and his dog. He looked to be genuinely interested in the interaction, and it was like a breath of fresh air to encounter someone so... real.
Marcus nodded at the man's words, confirming that it was like that. In reality, that was only an afterthought for Marcus when he chose Brutus' name, but the man's quick connection just made him seem like the Oxford student/professor that Marcus imagined him to be. So lost in his reverie, he didn't notice that the man was looking at him expectantly.
"Well, I'm Percy," the man supplied when the coos of pigeons started to fill the silence a little too much. "And while I haven't drawn you before, I'd be willing to. And I've thought about it. And I think you're quite handsome too."
Marcus shrugged his shoulders in a show of nonchalance, but inside he was going crazy. Instead of completely freaking out about his park crush calling him handsome (did he even mean it that way), he just gave the man (Percy, he reminded himself) his most charming smile.
"I'd like that."
Percy hummed in response, and before Marcus could even begin to steer the conversation into a new direction so as not for it to end, Percy was flipping the pages of his sketchbook and scribbling away.
"Oh— now?" Marcus asked, startled.
"Won't take long, promise."
So then Marcus was sitting there awkwardly, looking everywhere except at the gorgeous redhead beside him, trying to be a good model. He looked enviously at Brutus who was obviously a much better one. Every once and a while, he'd feel Percy's gaze flicker to him before settling back on the drawing, and if Marcus wasn't actively trying not to be weird then he'd be absolutely staring at the whole process.
"Try not to be so awkward," Percy's voice cut through the silence, filled with mirth and amusement.
Tension eased out of Marcus' shoulders, and he felt unable to control the grin that sprouted on his face at the easygoing tone. "Well, what am I to do?"
"Just... relax. I don't know, sorry. I've never been drawn but... you can look if you want to. Talk, even. I'm used to the noise."
"Well, okay then," Marcus replied, angling his body toward Percy's. He tried to not be so awkward, and actually allowed himself to look. The drawing was pretty good, amazing really, and for a moment Marcus thought that maybe Percy was some kind of art student. For the most part, though, Marcus did find himself staring at Percy as he worked, and now it was Percy's turn to look awkward. After the first few times they made eye contact, perpetual splotches of red littered Percy's cheeks and there was a slight smile on his face as he worked.
Some kids ran passed, yelling about their ball going in the water. Brutus started barking, which meant Marcus had to move to sate him and get him to be quiet, and then the true reality of the situation came to him as soon as it was over. Nothing so romantic had ever happened to him before, and he didn't know if Percy felt what he was feeling, but it was very intense.
When Marcus straightened from getting Brutus to calm down, Percy was looking at him patiently, the smile still on his face.
"Wow, I can't wait for you to see this," he gushed, peeking at the drawing that he held close to his chest. "This is the most interesting thing that has happened to me in a while. I hope you like it."
Marcus raised his eyebrows, and Percy handed over the sketchbook with confidence. It was rightly placed, because the portrait was amazing and in Marcus' own opinion, gave his looks way too much credit.
"You're really talented," Marcus said whilst scanning the page, looking back and forth between the detailed charcoals and the hands that used them.
"Thanks," Percy replied with a shrug. "It's a hobby I've had for a while."
"Oh," Marcus began, setting the sketchbook down gently on his lap before teasingly asking, "So you're not an art major at Oxford?"
A startled laugh escaped Percy's lips. "Is that what you thought?" At Marcus' indignant shrug, Percy said, "I double major in physics and math at Cambridge. Might minor in education, though. You were so close, yet so far."
It took Marcus a moment to register what he said. "Really?" He asked incredulously.
An insistent nod.
"So... you might become a professor?"
A confused shrug.
"Why do you come all the way out to London if you go to Cambridge?"
Another shrug. "Because I can. I've got the time, and I like it out here. The fare is as free as I want it to be. It's nice, and I like what I see when I come here."
"What, like me?" Marcus joked.
He expected the laughter, but not the, "Yes, exactly that," said with vehemence and sincerity. It was heartwarming.
"I feel really honored to be your muse today then, Percy," Marcus told him, staring down at the drawing as the laughter settled.
"Keep the drawing," Percy said. "Keep all of them. They're of your dog, of course. I'll just have to find a new muse."
Marcus, upon hearing those words, felt his heart constrict. "No!" He immediately protested. Percy stared at him weirdly, so he cleared his throat before hesitantly clarifying, "I want to keep talking to you. Be your muse a little more, if that's alright."
"Oh?" Percy responded meekly, readjusting in his seat. "Well, I guess that would be... more than alright."
"Did I make this awkward?" Marcus sighed, holding his head in his hands.
"No! It's fine. I guess I'm just taking this the wrong way," Percy hastened to assure him, fiddling with his hands and staring down at his lap.
Marcus couldn't look away from the sight. "I don't think you are," he remarked. Percy then looked at him skeptically, and Marcus met his gaze head on, trying to convey his meaning. "You're quite interesting, and I want to talk to you again. Everyday, if that's alright with you. Maybe even somewhere else, like a coffee shop."
Percy stared at him disbelievingly before nodding his affirmation. "Right..." he said slowly. "So, sorry if this is completely out of left field but... are you asking me out?"
"Was that not what you were referring to? I don't know, maybe I should've been more forward," Marcus fretted. Maybe his satellite receiver was off and Percy wasn't sending signals. At all.
"No, I was! I just didn't know if you were interested. I'd like to go elsewhere with you. And talk to you. Maybe you're interesting, too, behind that mysteriously attractive aura that your looks exude."
"My looks exude a mysteriously attractive aura?" Marcus echoed, leaning in close to nudge Percy's shoulder with his own. "Never heard that one before."
Percy smiled and shook his head. "It's intimidating, really. With Brutus to accentuate the look, it's almost scary. But you're nice."
"Thank you. With descriptions like those, it's a wonder you haven't drawn me before." Marcus was genuinely flattered to have been noticed so much.
"Well, I can do it more often now," Percy promised.
Brutus chose that moment to try and climb on the bench again, and while Marcus tried to stop him, Percy helped him up. The big fat thing laid its head in Percy's lap and the rest of his body in Marcus'. Marcus was irritated, not only because he got the rear end but also because Brutus would never try that with anyone else. Whatever, it was in his nature to be a traitor. At least Percy seemed content with it.
As they talked on and on, Marcus started getting it into his head that he was visiting the park with his boyfriend and their pet dog. Maybe one day. It was strange how he'd just come up to Percy 2 hours before and now he was already imagining what the future held, but that was okay. He'd work hard to make sure it would become a reality, because Percy, with his skillful hands stained with charcoal, his professor clothing, his vibrant red hair, his... everything, who traveled an hour from his fancy ass school everyday just because he liked what was at the park (Marcus included), actually seemed to like him. And with the spontaneity of the situation considered, wasn't that the best outcome he could ask for?