Fantasy RP Take Him, Then the World (Firestarter)

[RhysTheFirebird]

(me tryna turn this back into a long post RP but like, wtf do I even put here?)

AZ watches Marco, stepping back to give the other space, as well as himself. His skin was still burning, the touch to his cheek still singing through his nerves like a bolt of lightning. He still couldn't figure out how to react when Marco touched him. Sure, he'd touched the other on multiple occasions, but a sudden, not offered touch from the other nearly sent him into a panic attack.

His heart was still racing, pounding in his chest, pulse fluttering rapidly at his throat. He stares at Marco's tattoos, as if watching the ink dance would calm him down. It helped, if only a little bit.

Once, he might have chosen to be a tattoo artist himself, he was good at many different mediums of art, and it would be a pride to have his talent showcased on another's body. Though, now, with just the slightest panic at the smallest of touches, he doubted he could.

He nods slightly, reaching out to take the art supplies from Marco, "Thank you. I. . . I really appreciate it. . ." He murmurs ducking his head, a flush of embarrassment and shame creeping up his face.

"I really am sorry, I don't mean to drop everything." His grip tightens on the brushes as he moves to set them down on a table.

 

[Firestarter]

Marco nods and lifts his hand to rest behind his head, causing his muscles to flex while showing off his chest. "I'm glad you like it. I admire how talented you are and I'd like to see you expand on that talent more."

His lips tingle from the sneaky kiss he placed on Az's cheek. He knew it was a risk doing something that could scare the other off, but it was impossible to resist. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about Az since they first encounter. His smooth skin was beautiful and his attitude was enticing. He could imagine getting chewed out by the brat when returning home late from a private meeting or something.

"Don't worry about dropping everything, Az. You only did it because I couldn't help myself and stole a small kiss from your cheek." He winked playfully before relaxing his arms. His tattoos practically danced with every movement, each one representing something special to Marco.

"I'll leave you alone now. I'm sure you'd like to have some privacy and get to using some of that supplies." He smiles softly at Az before slowly turning away and walking out of the room. He needed to contact a few of his boys to get some information on a couple politicians before losing track of his main plan.

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Az grins, "I love it, Marco." He turns slightly, watching as the other starts to walk away. He lets his gaze trail over the other's back, watching the muscles and tattoos move. "Really, I do."

He leans back, watching his bedroom door close. He bites his lip, and moves forward, turning back to the table. He picks up the art supplies, fidgeting for a moment. They were beautiful, sleek, and very expensive. They were everything he'd wanted, things he'd wished he could save up for. He brushes the bristles over his lips, enjoying the softness.

He glances at the tubes of paint, glancing at the labels. So many different colors, acrylic and water colors. They were stunning. How much had Marco spent on him?

 

[Firestarter]

Walking into his office, Marco sighs and pulls out his phone. He calls multiple different people, jotting down notes and ordering his men to complete certain bargains and deals. He doesn't get a chance to relax and put the phone down until at least 3 hours later.

Alfonso eventually walks into Marco's office and reminds him about dinner, being met with a simple grunt before being sent away. Marco was far to stressed to think about eating at the moment. He needed to find a way to relax, to physically feel his body at ease.

Letting out a deep breath, Marco walks to his bedroom and turns on the shower. Normally, he would have someone brought over to slake his desire on for the night, but his mind was clouded with thoughts of Az. The way he smiled, his true appreciation for the art supplies made Marco's heart flutter, but there was no way Az would ever look at him the way he looked at Az.

Stripping out of the rest of his clothes, Marco stepped into the steam filled shower and lets the warm water wash over his skin while his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock. Soft sighs passed through his lips as he slowly stroked his length, imagining how it would feel to have Az in his arms.

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Az, meanwhile, was blissfully unaware and in his room drawing. Hours passed, and he was starting to like what was coming together on the canvas. A person, backlit with what he planed to be a beautiful array of colors. Vibrant shades of blue, green, yellow and red.

Though, the person themself, he was drawing with charcoal, shading the material into the canvas. He didn't define the features, they were muddled and messy, genderless. The person could be anyone.

He'd started on the paints just a half hour ago when Alfonso knocked and warned him dinner would be soon, he smiles and slowly set his brush down. He appraised the artwork, quiet for a moment. Then, he changed from his clothes into clean ones.

He wanders from the room, going down the hall and towards the dinning room. He finds his seat and sinks down into it, waiting. He doesn't know how long he waits, maybe ten to fifteen minutes before food is brought to the table.

Food for one.

His shoulders slump and he looks down at his plate, fidgeting with his fork. "Is. . . Is Marco still busy, Alfonso?" He glances over at the man servant, looking a little sad.

 

[Firestarter]

Alfonso checks his watch and sighs softly. "He might be, but he should be coming out soon." Alfonso knew the Marco had decided to lock himself away in his room for a while, but he didn't think it would be this long. "I'll go check on him right now."

Back in Marco's room, he was finishing up cleaning up yet another bout of stress relief. How many times had it been already? He lost count, never feeling fully satisfied after each one. With a heavy sigh, he buttons up his pants and slips on a black button up shirt. He leaves the top three button undone as he turns around, already seeing Alfonso at the door. "I know...I know. I'm coming right now."

Running his fingers gers through his disheveled hair, Marco shakes out his hands and walks with the older man back to the dining room. Seeing Az already seated at the table made him smile.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. If I had known you were joining me, I would've gotten my ass out here sooner."

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Az fidgets quietly as he waits for Alfonso to come back, not yet touching his food. He fidgets with his fork, his nose wrinkling in distaste as he stares at the items on his plate. While the smell made him want to run and throw up, he was pleased that the serving sizes present were small.

He glances up at the sound of footsteps and smiles brightly as Marco walk in, followed by Alfonso. He wiggles slightly, shaking his head, "No, no, it's okay. I don't want you to feel rushed in your own home." He spears a green bean with his fork, poking it into his mouth. "I'm just glad you came before it all got cold."

He forced himself to swallow, forcing down the urge to retch. He takes a deep breath and then slowly eats another green bean.

 

[Firestarter]

A spark of joy filled Marco as he watched Az start to eat, following suit with stabbing at his potatoes and taking a bite. It felt right sitting at the dining table with someone. No, not just someone, with Az. It was hard for Marco to keep his eyes off the other, wishing he could be closer.

"Please, don't ever worry about making me feel rushed." He looked down at his plate for a moment before giving Az an apologetic smile. "Even though it didn't happen in a way that you would have liked, this is your home as well, Az. You are always more than welcome to drag me by my ear if I'm locked away in one of my rooms."

The sound of forks and knives gently clinking against the plates filled the room. Alfonso almost wanted to drag both of them together and force them to hug as he sensed the tension, but he dared not move from his spot in the corner.

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Az shifts slightly, setting his fork down after a few more bites of each food. He shifts slightly, pushing the plate away from him, resting his elbows on the table. His chin slumps into his palms and he watches Marco for a moment, glancing at Alfonso.

He glances back to Marco, swallowing. "I could never. . . You're too tall." He laughs softly, turning his face away slightly.

"I still wouldn't want to rush you, Marco. It's your home, and you should be comfortable in it."

He stares at his plate for a moment, biting his lip as he contemplated taking a few more bites. But his stomach twists sharply at the thought.

 

[Firestarter]

Marco chuckles softly and shakes his head. The image of Az jumping up to grab his ear before dragging him down the hall was far more realistic than he thought possible. "I might be taller, but that doesn't mean you can't rush me if it's something serious."

He didn't like the fact that Az pushed his plate away, but the little amount of food he did eat was better than nothing.

"I hope you've been enjoying the art supplies. I wouldn't want you to get bored or find out I got you a cheap, useless set." Marco smiles as he looks up at Az, taking a sip of his wine before leaning back in his chair. "You know, there's a blank room i have here that needs to be painted. Think you're up to creating something on the walls in there?"

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Az shifts slightly my, "But I won't. . ." He mumbles, leaning away slightly. He fidgets with his fingers slightly. "It'd be stupid for me to drag you around." He gives a slight smile, shaking his head. "And I am anything but stupid."

He felt his stomach roil and he bites down on his lip, shifting slightly. His face went slightly pale as he fought the urge to puke everywhere. He presses his face into his hands, trembling slightly. He takes deep breaths through his nose, shuddering slightly.

He glances back up at Marco,smiling weakly, "Depends on what you want me to paint in there." He whispers.

 

[Firestarter]

Marco can see the signs of Az getting close to puking, signaling Alfonso to bring over a glass of water with lemon before smiling. "That's very true. You're very far from stupid. Just bratty." Her chuckles, wincing at Az playfully before gently pushing his own plate away.

"As for what to paint in the room, I'd like for you to surprise me. There are four walls all painted bright white. Perfect canvases for anything in that pretty little head of yours." He could picture it in his head, Az wearing a paint stained apron with jeans and a t-shirt while adding abstract rainbows and marble-esque designs to the walls.

Alfonso gently sets the glass down next to Az and smiles, "This will help sooth your stomach. It's just some lemon water. The acid in the lemon will help, I promise."

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

AZ glances over at Alfonso as Marco motions to him, then looks back at the man across from him. He swallows, ducking his head, a flush spreading across his cheeks. "I am not bratty. . ." He mutters, sulking slightly. He pouts at Marco, sticking out his lower lip slightly. He firmly believed he wasn't bratty, everyone else was just too stuck up.

He brightens at the thought of painting the room though, swaying side to side. "Really?" He thinks for a moment, and then shrugs, "Then you can't go in there i-- until I'm done. Not one foot, or eyeball." He grins over at Marco, "Alfonso can though. As long as he doesn't tell you what it looks like." He crosses his arms, and then glances down at the glass set in front of him.

He pokes the cold glass as if it was a new and foreign object to him. He smiles slightly at the older man, and then looks back into the pale yellow water. It was still mostly see through, the slightest hint of lemon coming from it. His nose wrinkles in distaste, not a fan of lemon, or anything sour. But he could drink it if it would prevent his tiny diner from going all over the table, along with an (un)healthy dose of stomachic bile.

He slowly wraps his long, thin fingers around the glass and lifts it to his mouth. His lips touch the edge, and he tips his head back, downing the whole glass before he could taste it. He shudders, gagging and coughing, but it didn't come back up. "Gross. . ." He wheezes out, coughing again.

 

[Firestarter]

Alfonso smiles and nods, glad to have seen that the lemon water worked as usual. He had used the same trick many times in the past with Marco's family members. It was pleasing to see that his skills were still useful after all his years of working for Marco's family.

"I hope that helps. I hate seeing you distressed in any way. I know it didn't taste very well, but it's still probably better than stomach bile." Marco chuckles softly. He just wanted to help Az, protect him. If he could, Marco would wrap the younger male in a blanket and keep locked away for he wouldn't have to see the horrors of the outside world again. But even he knew that Az was a caterpillar who was going to turn into an amazing butterfly someday. All he needed was the right kind of help.

"Don't worry about me sneaking in to see the room. I promise I will wait until you are done. Alfonso is also amazing at keeping secrets from me when he needs to. While it drives me nuts, it make him a very valuable member of my family." Marco smiles and nods at Alfonso, a silent thank you for always being loyal and helpful.

Finishing his wine, Marco stands from his chair and walks around the table to stand by Az. He extends his hand towards the younger male while stuffing his other hand into his pocket. "Would you like to take a walk with me around the courtyard? I'm sure some fresh air would be nice. It would probably help you forget the taste of that lemon water."

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Az sets the glass on the table, staring at it for long moments as he swallows a few more times. He then lifts his gaze ever so slightly to watch Marco and then Alfonso, noting the interaction between the two companions. He tilts his head to the side, curious about just how long Alfonso had been with Marco, and his family as a whole. But he keeps his mouth shut and lets his brown gaze slide it's way back over to Marco.

He looks at the proffered hand and slowly stands, not taking it. "I guess some fresh air would be nice." He murmurs, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck and slide his fingers into the hair at the back of his head.

"I haven't seen he courtyard yet." He gives a shy smile, slowly dropping his hand to his side as he shifts to follow Marco from the dinning room.

 

[Firestarter]

Dropping his hand to his side, Marco nods with a small smile and leads the way through the foyer and out the front door. The cool night air is filled with the sweet scent of wet grass and fresh flowers that surround the walls of the estate and line the gates around Marco's property. A gentle breeze blows through his hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

"I always enjoy walking around outside at this time. No glaring sunlight to burn my eyes or workers running all over to keep up on the grounds. Just the silence of the night and softer shades that are only revealed by the moon's delicate light." Marco glances at Az, keeping his hands tucked into his pockets casually to keep himself from grabbing the other.

Thoughts race through his mind as he looks out over the flower garden, remembering seeing his mother tend to them on her own despite how many times he had begged her to relax. Taking a deep breath, Marco lets his head fall back while closing his eyes to enjoy the peaceful company of having Az there. "I hope you liked that art kit I gave you. I wanted to find you the best products out there."

Marco's Estate garden

 

[RhysTheFirebird]

Az lingers a few steps behind Marco as they move through the foyer and out into the open air. The moment the cool night breeze brushes against his skin, he feels the tension in his chest loosen, just slightly. The scent of wet grass and blooming flowers drifts through the air like a balm, grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

He folds his arms over his chest, not because he’s cold, but because he needs something to hold onto. Something to tether himself with. Marco’s presence beside him is large, warm, magnetic in a way that’s hard to explain—but it also makes something coil tight and hot in his stomach. A mix of anticipation and unease.

As Marco speaks, Az listens. Really listens. There’s a softness in Marco’s voice that catches him off guard. He’s so used to guarded glances, half-truths, and layered intentions—yet this moment feels... honest. The quiet kind of honesty that doesn’t ask for anything in return.

"I get that," Az murmurs, his eyes scanning the darkened garden, drawn to how the petals gleamed faintly under the moonlight. “The night makes everything softer. Like the world isn’t looking at you so hard.”

He swallows, glancing down at the ground as he walks. “I like that. I like... this.” He doesn’t dare say you, but the thought hangs in the air between his teeth, unsaid and trembling. His gaze flickers toward Marco as the man tilts his head back, the wind tousling his hair. For a moment, Az allows himself to simply look, to take in the slope of his jaw, the way the light kisses the sharp lines of his face. It makes his heart twist, too tender and too loud in his chest.

Then Marco brings up the art kit, and Az’s expression shifts—brightens and tightens all at once. “I loved the art kit,” he says, voice softer, more vulnerable than he meant. “You didn’t have to get something so nice, but... thank you.” It meant more than Marco could probably guess. Not just because it was expensive or thoughtful, but because it felt like being seen. Like someone had looked past the layers he kept wrapping around himself and remembered who he used to be, before everything.

“It felt like Christmas,” he admits, lips quirking into a small smile. “Or—someone remembering my birthday when I forgot it myself.” The moment he says it, a wave of heat floods his cheeks. He ducks his head quickly, staring hard at the stone path beneath their feet. That was too much, too raw. He shouldn't have said it.

“I, uh... I started something already,” he adds quickly, fingers twitching restlessly at his sides. “I don’t know what it’s going to be yet, but… it feels good to paint again. Like I’m letting something out that’s been trapped for a long time.”

He doesn’t say it out loud, but it scares him too—how easy it is to fall back into the rhythm of art, of vulnerability. How easy it is to start opening doors he swore he’d locked forever. And how dangerous it feels to do it with Marco standing right there.