eerieindiana | Fic- "it's what you do to me"

I'm back! With fic that is not part of The Eerie Project... for reasons that become obvious after reading.

A warning, if slash isn't your cup of tea, don't read. Nothing even remotely graphic (and anyway, they're aged a bit too), but still. Ye be warned!

It had all started with a fight.

Typical.

Without Simon to intervene that day, Dash X and Marshall were free to bicker and snipe at each other to their heart’s content (which was quite a lot- at times, it seemed to be what they lived for). They were trading barbs back and forth when suddenly Dash had said just the right thing to really set Mars off. And of course, it was the typical, irrational Mars who spun around to give him a piece of his mind-

-only to find him standing thisclose to him. As always.

Suddenly, though, Mars was oh-so-painfully aware of it.

He didn’t even think to step back, instead behaving like someone had bolted his feet to the pavement. All he could do was stare. Dash stared right back at him, the most incredulous look on his face.

“Teller?”

Oh no. Marshall opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He didn’t think it would’ve been anything intelligible anyway. Slowly Dash began to turn a distinct shade of red.

“W-what are you staring at?” he snapped, intending to sound harsh but sounding like he was out of breath instead. It made goosebumps ripple down Marshall’s arms.

“I…” I what? With a tremendous effort, Marshall took a step backward and turned away from Dash, his ears feeling like they were on fire.

This is weird. This is majorly weird. This… this is…

Things were never quite the same after that. If there had been tension between the two before, it was nothing compared to what followed. And it certainly didn’t help that more and more, Mars was plagued by his hormones, which seemed determine to override his mind. For a long time he tried to fight it off, to deny that anything out of the ordinary was going on.

That is, until the kitchen incident.

It was always horribly awkward when Marilyn invited Dash over for dinner- even worse when Simon was absent and she stuck him in the seat across from Marshall, who was forced to keep his eyes glued to the corn on his plate. Looking Dash straight in the eyes for any length of time did things to him that he wasn’t about to admit. Usually he tried to finish eating first so he could bolt, but that particular night he and Dash ended up alone at the table.

Alone in the kitchen.

“I’ll, um, take that,” Mars mumbled, quickly snatching Dash’s empty plate. He was so focused on getting away that he didn’t hear Dash get up and follow him to the sink.

“Look at me.”

Mars jumped, almost dropping the plate. Forcing himself to just breathe, he set it down gently and inched around until he and Dash were face-to-face. He was now at least several inches taller than Dash (who never seemed to age, let alone grow a few inches) but it didn’t help the situation any.

“What?” he said in exasperation. To his surprise Dash said nothing. To his shock, he pinned him against the counter, grabbed him by the collar, pulled him down to his eye level, and kissed him. It was no friendly peck, either- it was aggressive, forceful, full-on the lips for a good ten seconds. And then it was over; Dash let him go and abruptly left the kitchen, leaving him breathless and clutching the counter, white-knuckled, just to keep himself standing.

Their relationship was no less turbulent after that, but it was certainly different. Instead of hating each other outright, they chose to walk that fine line, putting up a front for the public eye but letting down their guard for each other at random times. They even went to great lengths to fool Simon…

…who wasn’t fooled in the slightest.

At least, he wasn’t fooled since the time he stumbled upon them standing nose-to-nose (Mars leaning over, of course), just about to kiss when they noticed him standing there in the doorway, jaw nearly to the floor. They jumped apart quickly, both insisting that it was ‘just an argument,’ despite the fact that they looked like tomatoes with legs and couldn’t stop shooting meaningful glances at each other the rest of the day.

But Simon, being Simon, let it go and decided not to ask. After all, they did live in Eerie, Indiana, the center of weirdness for the entire planet (as far as they knew, anyway). Stranger things had happened than his best friend and said best friend’s rival falling for each other.

And anyway, he’d seen it coming from a mile away.