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Topic Started: Nov 22 2017, 10:28 PM (25 Views)
Peyton Brooks
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Working the late shifts were surprisingly nice, Peyton honestly had never expected it. But then again, he had been thinking of them in terms of Chicago. God, Chicago nights had been a nightmare, even if you weren't a cop. There was too many people there and it had been buildings everywhere that were more enclosed than any other place. Or so he found himself thinking a lot. It had been easy to think that Chicago was the only place that had so many houses and so many businesses close together while no other city in the state – in the world – really understood what that was like. And that made it a not so safe place to be at night. He hesitated to say 'dangerous' because that had seemed a little extreme. Someone who didn't live there would have called Chicago dangerous, but Peyton? He figured it was no more dangerous than any other city. And in any other city, it would just be a little unsafe. There were more bars where people came out of drunk and had to get home, there were stores that were open later in a vain effort to keep business going, there were neighborhoods you only tried to go to during the day, there were neighborhoods that were probably better to avoid all together. Working late night in Chicago would have been a headache, there would have been only crazies there, he knew. He'd get called to clear up one bar and then before he was finished, he'd be called to clear up another. He'd be called to clear up a domestic, he'd be called to clear up a noise disturbance, he'd be called to walk someone to their car because there was just a bad feeling in the air. He would actually be doing his job in Chicago.
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Granted, it wasn't like Peyton was sitting around getting paid in Plainview, but it was a lot more...relaxed. There was only about twenty thousand people in the city, which sounded like a lot until he remembered Chicago had over a million people. Plainview was a lot more...small city. There were were homes and businesses, but they were a lot more spaced out. The down town area wasn't the same thriving center as it was for bigger cities, just happened to be where more businesses were located. There was space here. The place seemed to shut down by seven in the evening. Realistically, coming from a big city, Peyton figured they could have no cops on in the night and it would be relatively okay. So most of the time Peyton sat around with the few other cops that took the late night shifts waiting for disturbances to call. Sometimes he would go out on patrol, just drive around aimlessly for awhile to make sure nothing was amiss. Sometimes the bars had trouble getting people out, sometimes the clientele of the bar thought they could totally drive, but even that was few and far in between because the bar patrons all seemed to live close enough to walk home. Sometimes Peyton had to go check a disturbance at house or a building that was suppose to be off limits. Sometimes there <i>were</i> crimes attempted to be committed over night, but Peyton could count on one hand how many times that had happened. Plainview was the closest thing he had gotten to a job that was like retirement.
<p>
And it had worked out for being with Marc. He wondered if other couples wouldn't have tried to match their schedules up, he wondered if it would have been an issue. If Marc had been a bartender working until two or so in the morning and Peyton hadn't chosen to take the later shifts, what would they do? Marc would probably come home to Peyton sleeping, realistically speaking. Depending on what shift Peyton had, they might have seen each other over breakfast as Peyton was heading out the door and maybe in the early evening if Marc chose to start waking up about then. Or they could have had some of the morning together if Peyton had taken the afternoon shift. Neither were exactly optimal for seeing each other. Peyton went in around nine when Marc was all ready heading into work, Peyton managed to swing a little time around two in the morning to pick up Marc and drop him at home (and steal a kiss), then by seven am he was home. They got to have breakfast together, they got to do errands together, they got to relax together and both of them were usually in bed around one in the afternoon if that was how they wanted to do it. Though sometimes they had shaken things up and gone to bed earlier in the morning after Peyton got home, then woke up late afternoon so they could do other things – go see a movie, do a different set of errands, go out for a quick visit to the Taylors. The late night shifts were a god send.
<p>
But it certainly felt weird coming into the house when the sun was rising up and knowing there was still an evening to be had. "<b>Baby, I'm home,</b>" he called out as he toed off his shoes. He had grown very use to the odd shifts they had – his body had been more than use to being thrown for a loop between jet lag from the army and carrying on odds shifts there – but sometimes there was just that odd moment of 'this is not normal'. This wasn't a normal schedule to keep and it didn't feel like something he should be coming home to something so utterly...normal. He came home to a spouse, a dog and a couple of cats. IT was like what he would expect to come home to in the evening, not the middle of the morning and somehow it always threw him for a loop. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was married that threw him for a loop. When had he ever expected that he would be married?
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Marc Miller

There were some things that Marc didn't like about Peyton's job. The absolute biggest thing was the fact that it was dangerous. It didn't matter that they lived in a small town, his job was still dangerous. He had already broken his arm on the job once. Someone could stab you or shoot you or do any manner of things to you in a small town just as soon as a big one. Granted, the status of officer held a certain different meaning here in towns like this than it might in other cities. Tack on the fact that Peyton was an ex-army man and people respected him like crazy here in Texas. Marc still worried, though, because he loved Peyton. He also worried because there were some mornings when Peyton walked through the door that he looked so weary. He looked tired and sore and like he was questioning all of his life choices. There were some nights where Peyton was too busy to swing by to pick him up from the bar like he always tried to do. Just because they weren't in a bigger city didn't mean that the job couldn't be taxing. Some days, there was nothing to do. Some days, though, it seemed like everyone had just been waiting to cause a little trouble. And, Marc supposed, some days you just felt tired for no other reason than you felt tired. He'd had those plenty of times - even more after the accident - but that didn't mean he liked it. That didn't mean he liked seeing it in Peyton.

That was why he had decided to do what he was going to do. It wasn't precisely easy for him to have learned all this stuff, either. You couldn't just magically decide to give a really good back massage, after all. You had to at least somewhat know what you were doing. That was why he'd done the typical nerd thing; read some articles, watched some instructional videos. When that had given him the basics he had gone to Curtis and Lillian, of all people, and asked - awkward as all hell - if he couldn't work out the technique. They'd get a back massage and he'd hang around for a bit to help with the kids so they'd have some time to themselves. He wouldn't say he was a master at it or anything, but it had helped. Lillian, especially, was able to give him tips from a more practical nurse side of things. So he felt confident enough that he would be able to give Peyton a nice, relaxing bit of time where all the soreness and all the kinks were worked out of his back and shoulders. He was almost... excited. That was something that took him back. Maybe that was a good sign of how much he loved Peyton. He was excited to do something for him, something that would make him feel good and relaxed.

He perked up when he heard the sound of Snickers' dog tags jingling - almost as much as the dog herself - and when he heard the sound of the key in the door he pushed away from the desk. He took the headphones that had been sitting uselessly around his neck off and set them on the desk and then made his way out of the small side room he used when he wanted to game on the desktop. He stopped for just a brief few seconds just to look at Peyton as he stood in the entryway, taking his shoes off, as Snickers made her way to greet him happily.He couldn't even begin to stop the feeling of love that tightened in his chest. He was pretty sure he didn't want to, either. They'd dealt with a lot of things together, things that might have damaged any relationship, and they had made it through somehow. "Welcome home, baby," Marc told him, smiling softly at the older man. He made his way across the living room to where Peyton was still standing. He moved his hands to Peyton's stomach and then slid them up the older man's chest before he leaned in to give him a soft, slow kiss. "You look tired, baby." Maybe not as tired as some days, but he could see it in the other man's eyes. He understood, too. As much as Marc didn't think about the age gap, it was there. Marc had always been more of a night owl and he was younger. The nights didn't bother him too much because he was just used to it. Peyton had been a military man and then an accountant, both careers that generally involved being awake in the morning and asleep at night. He seemed to like the night shift, but some days it also seemed to wear him out.

Normally, Marc would herd Peyton into the kitchen, get him settled and bring the both of them their dinner. Some days, he might surprise Peyton with something or Peyton might just swoop in, scoop him up in his arms and they would spend time doing something else. He was pretty sure Peyton might even think that was what Marc was going to be doing now and he was fine with that. He leaned in for another brief kiss and patted his hand against Peyton's chest for a second. "Come into the bedroom, baby." It was hard to not put a certain spin on his words with that, not when he did it so often whenever he said them, but he did his best to keep his tone neutral even as he herded Peyton from the living room to the bedroom. "Shirt off," he ordered, waiting the short amount of time required before Peyton complied to reach out and actually push the older man down onto the bed face first. It was probably the boldest he had ever been and it was almost a pity that it wasn't really going to be for anything sexual. Instead, Marc just bounced onto the bed after him and then slid up until he was essentially sitting in the small of Peyton's back. He pressed his hands firmly down before he rubbed them up along Peyton's back, smoothing over the muscles. Then he slid his hands back down to just above where he was sitting and began working there first. "How's this feelin', baby?"
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Peyton Brooks
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It was as he was toeing off his shoes that he was greeted by the first person of the day in the house. Snickers practically came bounding up as best her three legs could let her, wriggling all over, vibrating with the excitement of seeing him again. If anyone asked, this was why he liked dogs. Oh, sure, there were some cats out there that might do this or would come after you for some attention, but it was rare. He had no doubt Harris would be content to see him, but he probably would be just as content to not see him. He dropped down to one knee, reaching out for Snickers and that was her cue to launch herself at him, wriggling and snuffling all the new scents and licking at his face. "<b>There's my best gal,</B>" he said happily, rubbing his hands over the fur, scratching behind ears and under the collar on her neck. It all suited to make her more excited, practically trying to climb into his lap. And that was when he heard the Marc's voice, heard him say welcome home....and when Peyton looked up, his heart twisted a little in his chest. It wasn't that Marc was doing anything in particular, he hadn't gotten all dressed up in something that would excited Peyton nor had he taken an overly comfortable route that Peyton thought was precious and adorable. It was just...Marc. Suddenly in that moment, he realized he had gotten the life he had always kind of daydreamed about in the army but never really let himself think he would have. A dog that rushed to greet him, someone who would come out to say welcome home. That kind of stuff was something for his parents to enjoy and he had to settle with what he got. When he had just gotten out of the army, he didn't think he would ever get that. Yet here it was.
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He stood up again and Marc came closer. "<b>Hey, sweetie,</b>" he said as way of greeting. Marc wrapped his arms around him and Peyton did the same, wrapping his arms around Marc and pulling him close so he could lean down and kiss him lightly. God, kissing Marc was probably one of the nicest things in the world, one of the best things. Slow and sweet when he wanted it to be. He moved a hand up to cup Marc's cheek, leaning into the kiss, pushing into it the tiniest bit to show how much he had missed Marc through the day. He couldn't stop his laugh as Marc said he look tired. "<b>Everyone decided they wanted to have problems today,</b>" he said easily, "<b>What was worse, they all turned out to be pretty much nothing.</b>" He would take those over the times they were something, though. This was a small town – not the smallest of towns, but still relatively small – and nothing was worse than having to call a cop because you heard something strange in the backyard and your dog was going berserk and you're awfully sorry officer...and then it turned out to be a robber that had been waiting for things to quiet down or hadn't realized someone had been up at that time getting a glass of water in the dark. Peyton much rather preferred the calls that were just 'a rabbit decided to be noisy that night'. It was one of those things that most nights he wasn't overly busy, so he could appreciate someone being concerned and using the tools available to them. The problem with tonight was that it had all died away as the dawn hours came, leaving him feeling laggy and groggy because it had been all go and then nothing.
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Marc leaned in for a kiss again but when Peyton was interested in making it linger, that was when he pulled away again to pat his chest. "<b>The bedroom?</b>" he repeated and he knew he sounded like he was being a bit dumb. Truthfully, he felt it. The curse of nights when he had been spending it all fast paced and then dropped to nothingness. It was just that his brain was stuck in routine. He would come home, he would see Snickers, Marc would come give him a kiss, and then they would go to the kitchen for their version of dinner. In all honesty, his brain was stalled just enough that he found himself about to ask if they were going to have breakfast in bed. He was saved from that embarrassment by Marc actually herding him along, pushing him towards the bedroom even as he felt his brow furrow a little in confusion. Marc hadn't sounded particularly...sexy when he had said the bedroom, which was usually something they both did. This had been sort of neutral, just like "I want to show you something", when the something turned out to be the new sheets or Harris' new cat bed or something. Even when Marc ordered him to take off his shirt, for a moment he could only raise an eyebrow. "<b>Baby, have I mentioned how sexy it is when you take charge?</b>" he teased. It was and wasn't true. He liked their dynamics in the bedroom; he liked having control when they fell into bed and all that came with it. But he liked that Marc felt comfortable enough to order him around. Sure it wasn't always important things, it was just things like Peyton needed to eat or lie down. Very simple, very domestic things and he loved it.
<p>
He unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging out of it before he pulled off the undershirt that had been hidden beneath. It felt like he had only just started the tossing motion for the undershirt when Marc pushed at him, pushed him to lie down on the bed – face first even, which was making Peyton slightly confused. The night must have burned him out something awful because he was finding himself very, very confused with this turn of events, couldn't quite understand it, even as Marc bounced on to the bed and straddled Peyton's back, moving to sit just at the small of it. And then, he felt Marc's hands. They pressed firmly at the muscles of his back, sliding up and down as if he were trying to find the right spot. The right spot turned out to be just a little above where Marc was sitting and then Marc <i>pressed</i> down. In the first moment, Peyton wanted to scramble away. That first moment made his instincts want to go 'no, that hurt' because it was just a sudden pressure against muscles that whined. And then the moment passed and the instincts realized that the first push had been the muscles hurting but the second was relief that his back hadn't felt in a long, long time. He opened his mouth to respond but for the first second, nothing properly came out, just something garbled. Then he managed, "<b>Fuck, where'd you learn to do this, baby?</b>"
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Marc Miller

Marc could only smile widely as he watched Snickers enthusiastically greet Peyton. As he watched Peyton get down on one knee to accept her attention, to pet her and hold her close, rubbing his hands all over her. He had been initially irritated when Peyton had brought her home, but that irritation hadn't lasted. He hadn't even needed the facts behind her sad life up until Peyton had claimed her. Marc didn't mind dogs in the least. He had only been initially irritated that Peyton hadn't even called or texted to ask Marc if he minded and he had gotten over that quickly enough. It had been easy enough to forget his anger when there was a dog that cute suddenly that was theirs. Granted, Snickers hadn't been as enthusiastic as she was now when Peyton first brought her home. She had been hesitant and wary, not used to a full house with just one other animal in it, not used to a fenced in backyard where she could hop about at free will and definitely not used to the amount of affection that Marc and Peyton both were ready to heap on her. She had blossomed, though, and it always made Marc feel good. It made him feel better to see how happy she was to see Peyton. He wouldn't say Snickers loved him any less, but it was clear she thought of Peyton as her's. It made sense. After all, he had been the one to help rescue her. In these moments, Marc almost could never believe his luck. He was married to an amazing man. He had been married for some time now. They had a dog. They had a cat. They had a house. Every morning, Peyton came home and Marc got to put his book, his game, his TV show, down and stand up and say 'welcome home'. He had never in his life dreamed he would have that after all the years of being so invisible.

His heart flopped in his chest as Peyton greeted him, called him sweetie, just like it always did. When Peyton kissed him back, Marc made a small, pleased little noise that he almost always made whenever Peyton kissed him. It was always wonderful. It drew him out of the real world, it felt like, and put him right into this shared world where there was nothing there but him and Peyton. When Peyton cupped his cheek, he turned his head into the older man's hand just a little bit before Peyton pushed into the kiss, deepening it and letting it linger in a way that indicated just how much he had missed being around Marc. He made a tiny, soft sound of disappointment when Peyton finally pulled away to answer him. "Was it worse because they were nothing or just because everyone was having problems?" Marc questioned him, letting his fingers toy idly with the buttons and flaps on Peyton's uniform shirt, enjoying the feel of the fabric beneath his fingers and the muscles beneath the fabric. He could understand that both could be frustrating although Marc would rather Peyton have to respond to a hundred reported problems that turned out to be nothing more than someone hearing things or to do something so minor it was really more of a going through the motions than actually ticketing or fining someone situation rather than something more serious. He'd rather Peyton be bored than have his health and life be threatened. Then again, he was sure Peyton would rather that, too. He was allowed to complain about his work being boring - Marc complained when the bar was slow, too - and Peyton had lived through the army. He probably knew very well to take advantage of the boring days because they might not last.

"Mmmhmm, the bedroom," he said, giving another pat to Peyton's chest. Peyton didn't just look tired, honestly. He sounded tired. He acted tired. Maybe the night had taken its toll on him, despite the fact that there wasn't really that much that had happened. Marc had a feeling he might have ended up falling asleep over his food if they had gone right now. He might still fall over his food if they got to dinner. If Marc did what he wanted to do well... well, Peyton might end up missing a meal or, at the very least, need Marc to bring him food in bed. If you did it right, a massage could leave someone completely boneless and wanting nothing more than to just lie there and doze and not move for hours on end. If he did it right, he doubted Peyton was going to want to get up and go to the table for food. When they got to the bedroom, Peyton complied with his directions. He only paused to give him a look and Marc found himself blushing. "No," he mumbled the word out, letting his hands tangle in the ends of his sleeves in a pleased embarrassment. He didn't really order Peyton around much or take charge. It was usually about mundane things like eating dinner, doing this or that, or, back when Peyton had smoked and drank, to not do that here, to cut back, all those sorts of things. It was never in a sexual way.

Peyton practically radiated confusion and it made Marc feel bad. Despite the desire to jump right in and tell him, however, Marc kept his mouth shut. You couldn't surprise someone if you went and blurted things out to them even if you wanted to. So he waited until Peyton got the shirt undone, got his undershirt off. When he pushed Peyton down onto the bed and then sat against the small of his back, he could feel even more confusion. When his hands pressed down on that first spot of tight muscles, he could feel Peyton tense. Before he could tell the older man to relax, however, he did. It was like the sudden realization had come through of what Marc was doing and Peyton relaxed under his touch and already was starting to look a little boneless even though they had just started. The first response to his question actually pleased him, because it meant it must feel good if Peyton couldn't even articulate it to him. There was nothing but jumbled up words. Then, when he finally spoke, Marc could only flush some in happy embarrassment. "I looked up how to do it and... well... I asked Curtis and Lillian if they'd let me practice on them." He was still embarrassed by that, but it had obviously helped if Peyton was enjoying this so much already. Marc kept working his hands over the spot until he was sure that the kinks and knots were out of the muscles there, then he shifted his hands to the next. He was enjoying this. He was enjoying getting to put his hands on Peyton - definitely enjoying that - but even more he was enjoying the way Peyton was reacting, the way it obviously felt good and was doing something for the older man. "I wanted to learn so I could do this for you when you've had a rough day."
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Peyton Brooks
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He ruffled his hands over her again, laughing as she leaned more of her weight into him. "<b>You know, if you're going to keep on doing that, we're going to need to get you a fake leg. I don't know if you'd like that.</b>" From what he understood of Snickers was she use to having only three legs and had that was her life. They had asked the vet and been told to keep her slim, to keep her paw pads clean, and just...be aware of her. She'd let them know if she was uncomfortable and so far she had been a perfectly normal dog. Maybe when she got older, they'd think about it. After all, right now, she had this strange tendency to bite things that came into the house and she didn't fully recognize. They didn't need to go buying her an expensive leg, only for her to chew it up like a toy. With one final ruffle, he sent her on her way, watching her hobble off before he turned all of his attention to Marc. How could he not give all his attention to the younger man? When the kisses were as sweet as the one they shared, when he got to look into those soft eyes...god, he was turning into his father. He had swore to his siblings he was never going to be that disgusting and yet. "<b>I don't even know anymore,</b>" he laughed, leaning his forehead against Marc's. "<b>Both? I guess both. Every body was having problems, so at least I got out but then to show up after the fifth time to realize it was a raccoon...</b>" He should be grateful that people were safe and he'd rather they called him than go check things out for themselves. And he was. He didn't wish anything bad on people – if he did, he'd have to question why he was a cop in the first place. But at the same time, he felt so worn out, so tired and he felt as if he had done nothing all night.
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"<b>Goodness, Marc, it's not even close to bedtime yet, how scandalous,</b>" he teased gently, taking Marc's hand so he could lift it to play a kiss on the palm. It was always a fifty fifty chance on how Marc would respond to teasing, though maybe it wasn't accurate to say "fifty fifty". Some days, Marc just got flustered and overwhelmed, which might shut him down or just make him more willing to listen. Some days, he teased right back. Some days, Marc shut down without the flustering and it had taken Peyton a long time to realize that Marc had viewed it as a guilt trip. Whether Peyton had meant it to be that way or not (not; he would never want to hurt Marc that way), the damage had always been done. It made Peyton careful when he dealt with Marc; it made him cautious to watch what he was saying and doing and to always be at least somewhat obvious in his teasing. But they kept going, Marc responded to it and even when they got to the bedroom, he mostly just blushed. "<b>It is so sexy, baby,</b>" he laid it on a bit thick as he pulled his shirt off fully. "<b>But then again, maybe that's just you.</b>" He reached out, grabbing Marc so he could pull him in close. "<b>sexiest thing I have ever seen in my life.</b>" Maybe he was laying it on a bit thick, but it wasn't a lie. Marc had been one of the most handsome men in his life and it had only been later that he realized it was because it was the first time he had ever let himself look at a man like Marc. Smaller, he hesitated to say weaker, but just more...needing him. He had always thought he liked men like himself; strong, confident, bold. But no, Marc had shown him the errors of his way there.
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Peyton felt his confusion grow as Marc didn't even try to assure him, tell him what was going on. That was pretty unusual for Marc. Not that Marc blabbered on and on, but at the same time, it almost pained him to leave someone in confusion because it might lead to them being hurt or upset or any number of things. But Peyton felt like he could have done with some kind of explanation as Marc sat against his back right up until he felt Marc's hands begin to work at the muscles in his back. It was a strange, foreign sensation that he didn't quite understand until his body realized that it was better, that it made him feel good. He couldn't stop his groan as Marc answered his question. "<b>Shit, they got this first? I'm jealous.</b>" but the words were too relaxed for them to be real. He didn't think he meant them anyway. Curtis and Lillian were...good friends. He hesitated to say they were the best friends of their little home because James had come back and Marc was always going to gravitate to him. But it was a close thing. Peyton couldn't find it in himself to be angry with them. Lillian had always been blunt but kind, Curtis had always been shy but helpful. They were good people. "<b>I wanna say that you didn't have to,</b>" he muttered as he turned his face a bit into the pillow, "<b>But I really, really like this.</b>" It was an understatement. He had never gotten a massage before, he had never been interested in dropping the money, but this? This was divine.
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As Marc continued the massage, he almost found himself dozing off. Every few seconds, he found himself drifting, only to wake up a few seconds later. "<b>Marc, you're the most amazing man I have ever met in my life,</b>" he sighed out. It was the truth. He had never found someone who had worked as well with him as Marc did. He was silent for a long moment after he thought that, silent for duration that was almost tempting to fall asleep again. He couldn't do that, though. Because there was one thing that had been plaguing him for days now, possibly weeks. "<b>Are you happy working at the bar?</b>" He found himself asking. Ever since he had met Marc, the bar job had been something Marc did. It wasn't his great love to do, but it was a job and it paid the bills. It had worked. Right up until the accident, when Marc had been hit by a drunk driver. Once that happened, it had been harder for Marc to stand long periods of time and he had pulled back the hours. It was still just a job. "<b>If you had a chance to quit and do whatever you wanted to do, would you want to?</b>" His heart was suddenly in his throat, beating harder than it should have over such a simple question.
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Marc Miller

"She might," Marc said, even though he knew that the older man wasn't talking to him. "Then again, she might not." Snickers was a strange dog. Then again, Harris was a strange cat in his own ways. He would love to be able to see Snickers just engage in a full out run without hopping along, though. She did just fine on her own most days, but her balance wasn't the same as a four legged dog's would be and she couldn't engage in full on runs all around the backyard. He would love to see her like that, but maybe trying to do it for her would only upset her, too. After all, she had only ever known three legs. She was used to her balance and to the speed that she went. A prosthetic leg might just make her uncomfortable and they weren't exactly cheap, either. He and Peyton were comfortable. They had money from Peyton's army pension, money from Peyton's salary and Marc's own small salary all combined with a comfortable nest egg that had come from the payout of Marc's unfortunate accident. They weren't hurting, but there was also no sense in spending a lot of money on something the dog might hate. Making expensive, frivolous purchases just because was the way that you started losing that comfortable amount of money. It was easy to stop thinking about it, to stop worrying about it, when Snickers went off to do her own thing and when Peyton turned his full attention onto him. He could only stare up at the other man with all the love that he felt in his heart for him. He closed his eyes briefly as Peyton leaned his forehead down against his own and he gave a soft sigh of contentment. "I'd rather you face a raccoon than someone with a gun. At least the raccoon is generally smart enough to just leave." He knew that they could be vicious when they wanted to be but, for the most part, they would take one look at a human with a flashlight making a lot of noise and just take themselves out of the picture.

He squirmed slightly when Peyton reached out to take his hand and press a kiss against the palm of it. He loved things like that, but he always had no idea of what to do when it happened. So he always ended up just squirming and wriggling with an embarrassed sort of delight. "That's me," he finally said. "Scandalous all the way through." He was never good at reacting much to teasing even when he was actually reacting the proper way. Marc had always felt even with people he was comfortable with that there were times where he was just too awkward to really communicate perfectly. So sometimes, even when he wasn't bothered by teasing in the least, his own teases just felt like they fell flat. And he knew that this was his own version of being high maintenance. Peyton had started taking great care in the way he phrased things, in showing how much he was just teasing, because Marc had a tendency to just get overwhelmed very quickly and if the teasing upset him he just shut down entirely and disappeared quietly for an hour or two. It was one of the things that they had both had to learn about as a couple and work on smoothing things out. There were many days he wished he wasn't like that but he knew he probably always would be somewhat. At least Peyton had just worked on adjusting things so it didn't happen that often anymore. Marc could only watch in an eager sort of greediness as Peyton pulled his shirt off. He would always feel that way, he was sure. It didn't matter how often he saw Peyton shirtless, he always wanted to look, to stare and touch, to know that it was his and he would always get to see that. He let out a tiny squeak as Peyton reached out to grab him and pull him close. For the moment, he forgot about his plan so he could tuck his head up under Peyton's chin. "You're the sexy one, baby." He let a finger trail over Peyton's chest and stomach, down his side, just touching lightly. Marc had just always thought of himself as cute. Not handsome, not sexy, just cute. He wasn't muscled and strong, didn't have tone and definition like Peyton did. Marc was just cute. Peyton was sexy.

Marc gave a small laugh at Peyton's groan, at when he said that he was jealous that Curtis and Lillian had gotten this first. He leaned down to press a kiss against the back of Peyton's head. "Don't be. I had no idea what I was doin'. Lillian had to come in and scold me half the time when I was working on Curt because he wouldn't complain even if I'd broken a bone or something." He had always felt a kinship with Curtis. He had even crushed on him some back in school. He recognized a lot of the ways that Curtis acted were the ways that he acted, too. Marc was a little more outspoken - or at least he acted out when he was upset - than Curtis was, though. Even if it hadn't felt good, Curtis had been too nice to say so until Lillian had come in and pointed out, as a nurse, that it was not going to feel good if you did that and let her see those videos. From there it had honestly been more like a class than anything else and Lillian had been learning right alongside of Marc for a short while, working until things had gotten better rather than worse. All of the awkward work must have paid off if Peyton was sounding like it felt amazing, though. He gave another soft laugh. "I know I didn't have to, baby... but I thought it would be nice for you to come home and have something to work out all the kinks and let you relax after a rough day." He leaned in again, letting his hands still for a moment so he could nuzzle gently to the back of Peyton's head, smiling at the feel of the hairs brushing against his nose. "I'm glad you like it, though." He didn't need to say that he was worried that Peyton wouldn't. Peyton knew him well enough by now to know the way that Marc fretted.

He paused for a moment in his work as Peyton sighed out that he was the most amazing man that he had ever met. He leaned in to kiss the top of Peyton's head and smile shyly to himself. "That can't be, cause you're the most amazing man that I've ever met." He had met a lot of men over the years and none of them had ever been so wonderful as Peyton. None of them had ever been the one. He had thought, here and there, that some of them would be but no one had ever worked so well with him the way that Peyton had. After that, Peyton fell silent and Marc just continued to work out the worst of the kinks in Peyton's upper and lower back, in his shoulders, listening to the older man breathing and making soft sounds of enjoyment. He was actually startled when Peyton spoke - partly because he had honestly thought he was half-asleep by now and because the subject was so completely out of nowhere. He kept his hands working, however, and just sat silently as he thought about both of Peyton's questions. "It's a job. I don't hate it," he finally said. "I don't know, though. I don't... I don't do change easily." He let his hands still on the older man's back, just resting them against Peyton's shoulder blades. "I mean, the only thing I'm really good at is video games and me and Gabi have that channel and all but. That was just for fun for the both of us. Is that really a career? And what if I do it for a job and hate it? What if it's not good revenue?" There were plenty of people in the world who could jump ship on a job and change careers until they found what suited them. Marc was not one of those people.
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Peyton Brooks
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Peyton glanced up at Marc as the younger man said she might or she might not. It was true. "<b>I suppose if ain't broke, don't fix it, right?</b>" Realistically Peyton was fine with that. He had worked with a few army dogs in his time and they had all been very obvious when they were unhappy. It was just that they didn't show they were unhappy like people – they couldn't say anything to the extent of how much they were upset and that seemed to be the biggest indicator for people. No, people had to actually look at dogs and observe dogs and sometimes...sometimes it was just spending more time than people considered was necessary. Right now, Snickers was a happy dog. She didn't seem to be suffering from having only three legs outside of the fact that sometimes she just couldn't catch up with butterflies or bees. Later, he told himself. They'd check later, months later or a year later. They'd be aware and that was all they could do, right? It was easy to be distracted when he had Marc before him anyway. "<b>I don't know. I've met Rascal,</b>" he teased. Rascal had been the weirdest pet he had ever had the chance of meeting in this state. He hadn't thought anyone would keep a raccoon as a pet but then there was Rascal, who had been raised by James and Rosemary since he was a baby and who had become so domesticated there was no chance of him going out to the wild. Peyton was pretty sure Rascal didn't have the common sense to leave, just standing there on his hind legs awkwardly while someone ate and looking like a man who hadn't eaten in weeks. But wild ones were easy enough to shoo off, it was just that Peyton felt a bit frustrated after a time.
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Peyton grinned slightly as Marc squirmed, as he said he was scandalous all the way through. Peyton gave a gentle tug to Marc's arm, pulling a tiny bit closer before he kissed the back of Marc's hand. Slowly he began to press soft kisses along his arm, leading him up to Marc's neck until he could finally reach his lips. "<b>Good thing I love a good scandal,</b>" he murmured. Though he didn't anything he had with Marc was overly scandalous outside of maybe the age, but even if there was, Peyton knew he would have done anything to keep Marc with him at his side. Before Marc, no one would have accused him of being romantic or soppy. It just wasn't who Peyton <i>was</i>; he was down to earth, serious, far looking into the future for their relationship today. He could do romantic things but he was inherently that way. With Marc, everything felt different, everything felt just...more. He found he wanted to do gesture of affection, he wanted to more things as a random "just because" sort of thing. Maybe that was why he was having such an easy time listening to Marc – though he had to admit, as far requests went, taking off his shirt wasn't the most awful one. He gave a soft laugh as Marc made a noise when he was pulled close. "<b>Has anyone ever told you how damn cute you are?</b>" he demanded. Maybe Peyton should tell him more, maybe he should say it every moment he saw him. He nestled his head on top of Marc's. "<b>Oh, maybe I am, maybe I'm not, but you. You are a perfect picture.</b>" And he always would be in Peyton's eyes. Maybe Marc wasn't the muscled sort that Peyton usually spent his time with, but he was slim and healthy, he had nice soft hair, and gentle eyes. He had an adorable laugh and he was playful with their pets. How could that be anything but sexy?
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He felt Marc's lips on him and Peyton let himself quiet just the tiniest bits. "<b>That man is going to die because he was too embarrassed to call an ambulance.</b>" Peyton liked Curtis, but he could admit he had always felt vaguely confused by him. Most people with Curtis' personality were confusing to Peyton; the quiet types, who couldn't voice this or that issue. The people who felt awkward over everything and wouldn't say if something hurt or if something upset them or they felt confused. He couldn't understand the people that would go to get food...only to stop short because there was a stranger in the kitchen so they couldn't do that anymore. He couldn't understand the people that couldn't talk in a small group of friends. Not that he <i>hated</i> them or would never associate with them, but...he just felt more comfortable around Lillian's personality type. He worried less with her personality type. Curtis and his like Peyton always worried he had offended him or hurt him or something. "<b>Oh god you are the best man someone could ask for.</b>" Not just because Marc had learned this. This was nice, this felt amazing and it <i>was</i> awfully relaxing. But at the same time, that didn't really hold a candle to the fact that Marc <i>wanted</i> to that. Marc had put actual thought into it and understood that Peyton's job was hard, rough, and just daunting at times. "<b>Like doesn't even begin to cover it.</b>" Because he felt boneless, he felt like he could sleep for days and considering that usually after he got home from work, he felt like he would never ease down into relaxation, this was the best thing he had ever had.
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When Marc kissed the top of his head, Peyton didn't quite purr but it was a close thing. "<b>Well, now, can't we just agree we both met the most amazing man? And the rest of the world will weep since we're so taken with each other.</b>" He was okay with that because as far as Peyton was concerned, Marc <i>was</i> the best for him. They had worked so oddly well. They had matched up better than any other man Peyton had dated, better than any woman. That had to make Marc amazing. But the worry reared its head in when his question was met with silence. Marc's hands still worked, but he was so silent that Peyton wondered if maybe he hadn't just chose to ignore it because he didn't like the subject. Finally Marc spoke, saying that it was a job and he didn't hate it. "<b>Change can be very hard. Especially sudden.</b>" Peyton generally did okay with sudden change. Hell, for the longest time, he had <i>needed</i> the change. That was what had gotten him so ready and willing to move down there. He had needed to be able to change and move and adjust to new things. "<b>I wouldn't say it was the <i>only</i> thing you're good at.</b>" But Peyton could understand viewing it that way. There would be mountains of other skills a person could have but there were never extraordinary about it, which was daunting. Carefully, he shifted under Marc, poking and moving until he could roll over and Marc was left sitting on his stomach rather than the small of his back. He ran his hands up over Marc's sides, stroking the skin. "<b>Well...I was just thinking we're pretty comfortable. Living here isn't anything like back in Chicago,</b>" he offered a small grin, "<b>I'm pulling enough money with police work and the army is still sending me my pension. We're comfortable now and I just thought...maybe you'd want to try something different or new. It doesn't even have to be quitting the bar, you know. Maybe more of a reduction on hours at first. That way if what you want to do isn't working out, it's not like you burdened a bridge.</b>"
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Marc Miller

Marc gave a small smile as Peyton looked up at him and asked if it wasn't broke you don't fix it. "That's usually a pretty good way to go about it," he said after a moment. A part of him wished Snickers did have all four legs. There were days where she might hit a slippery patch of tile and struggle to get up or she might not be able to go as fast as she wanted and Marc wished that she could. She was happy, though. She probably didn't even know something was wrong with her if she had been that way her whole life. To her, that was just normal. If they forced her into having a false leg she might hate it and she might hurt herself in trying to get rid of it. Snickers was happy at the moment and that meant they should just let her be happy. Maybe she would gain weight or need to take stress off another leg and then they would have to consider it. And, in the end, though Marc thought in terms of 'they'... Snickers was really Peyton's dog. In the long run, it would be the other man's choice. "Okay, you can't use Rascal as an example. Most raccoons aren't spoiled house pets who throw temper tantrums if they don't get grapes." He gave a small snort. He thought the raccoon was neat. He always had. Neat and cute. But definitely not like any other raccoon that there was. Comparing him with a wild creature was like comparing a stuffed animal with a wolf. It wasn't anywhere near the same. Some wild raccoons could be mean and formidable fighters. Marc would still rather Peyton ran into ten instances of raccoons making noise, however, than any one man with a gun.

Marc felt his heart hammer hard in his chest as Peyton reached out to take his hand and kiss the back of it. Then he kissed along his arm, up to his shoulders and his neck and honestly it was hard to think. It was hard to even kiss back when Peyton's lips pressed against his because his brain was fizzling wildly with all sorts of feelings that had welled up in him. "If you keep that up my plan is going to go all to hell," he murmured against the other man's lips. Because his brain said forget anything at all except making love with Peyton at this point. But he had set this up because he wanted to do something nice for Peyton and, sure, sex upon coming home was a nice thing but that was something for the both of them and not something specifically for Peyton. "Noooo," he said slightly in response to Peyton's words. It wasn't really true because Peyton said it a lot. It was partly fishing to hear it again, partly denying it and partly his brain being unable to handle Peyton saying things like that to him all jumbled up into one word. It was a good thing Peyton was good at reading him at this point in time. "Well, you are. And you're perfect. The most perfect man in the world." They just matched up so well. Peyton had learned to be silly in love and Marc to be able to take a stand for love's sake. They had learned to grow with each other and to enjoy so much together. And Marc never worried about feeling safe one bit with Peyton around. All in all, he couldn't think of a more perfect man for him.

Marc gave a small laugh at Peyton's words. "I'd say less embarrassed an' more afraid he might inconvenience someone." He identified a lot with Curtis. Marc would definitely say that he hit a point where he was able to put his foot down - unlike Curtis - but he fully recognized the reasons that Curtis was the way he was. They were still different, of course, but they had a lot of similarities and that was part of the reason that they were friends. Marc, at least, never felt confused as to why Curtis was a bit awkward and unsure and got jumpy in some situations. He was never bothered by the fact that Curtis got uncomfortable if he was in a place with too many people. Marc could identify with some of those feelings just as easily. He ducked his head a little as Peyton said that he was the best man someone could ask for. It filled his stomach with butterflies and his heart with warmth to hear him say something like that. He loved it, really. "Don't expect it all the time," he teased gently. "It won't be as special then." Though Marc probably would do it anytime he asked. It was a chance to get his hands on Peyton, after all, and to do something that made him feel good. "I'm glad," he said, honestly. He hadn't been so sure how it would go but considering Peyton was like putty in his hands... well, he must be doing something right.

"You're like a big cat, baby," Marc teased the older man at the soft little noise that came from Peyton. It had become something of a joke between them now and it was almost an automatic thing to say. He couldn't stop the smile at the way it made him feel to have Peyton react in the way that he did to something so simple as Marc just kissing the top of his head. "They'd better. They don't know what they're missing out on," he said honestly. God, he had no idea how Peyton hadn't been taken by anyone. He had no idea why Peyton should have chosen that one night to come into the bar, that the bar should be so empty, that Peyton should be so interested in him but God, he was glad. He had the most amazing man alive as his husband and he would never be content with anyone else ever. "Change makes me nervous," Marc admitted, although he doubted he needed to say it. Change had always made him flighty and wary. He didn't like having to make tough decisions that could backfire. It was why he just usually settled and avoided change. "Well, it's the only thing I feel like I'm really good at." He knew he had some things he could do, but nothing that screamed 'potential job'. He was an okay cook. He loved animals but it wasn't like he had skills with them - and he couldn't handle the bad things that happened to them, either. Video games were about the only thing he considered his passion. He blinked a little as Peyton shifted beneath him, maneuvering the two of them until he had managed to roll over onto his back but keep Marc still straddling him. The older man's hands moved to just run lightly over his sides and Marc let his fingers just trail patterns over Peyton's chest as he thought. "There's the nest egg, too," he mumbled the words out. They hadn't really touched the money they had gotten in compensation for the accident. It was a nest egg for a reason, after all. Still. They weren't hurting. The cost of living was low, Peyton brought in two paychecks technically and Marc worked less hours than he used to but he still brought in enough money to help pay for things. "I mean, I guess it's something to think about," he finally said. Would he like to make it his job? Maybe. There were all sorts of pros and cons to it. If there was one thing he was good at, it was debating a choice until he was beating a dead horse over and over again.
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Peyton Brooks
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He dusted off his work pants as Snickers got excited enough to scramble away. For right now, she would be fine. For right now, she didn't need a fourth leg. Maybe when she got older they would get her one but there was nothing that really hindering her from being a normal dog. She had even figured out how to dig holes in her own way. If a dog could do that, they were perfect fine and happy. "<b>Hm,</b>" he gave Marc a considering look. "<b>Those lips are looking a little broken, though. I bet I could fix them.</b>" And then he swooped in, snagging an arm around Marc's waist before he could dart away or properly protest, and pressed his lips to the younger man's. He let the kiss be slow, deep but not searching. It was a kiss of affirmation, he felt. It was a kiss of knowing that they were together and they were happy and they were still building a life. Maybe there was too much to think about in one kiss but...He pulled back after a moment, letting Marc get his wits about him again. "<b>I dunno. I bet lotsa raccoons would be willing to throw tantrums if they weren't given grapes. <i>I'd</i> throw tantrums if I wasn't given grapes.</b>" Peyton still wasn't sure how James and Rosemary had managed it. Oh he knew that James had given Rascal over as a baby but...wasn't there instincts at play? Didn't they have a wild instinct that was in them that eventually would take over? Granted he doubted Rascal could <i>live</i> in the wild, but still. Then again, Marc had a point. A raccoon was more likely to leave or, if it stayed, it would generally leave a human alone. A person though? A person would stick around and get spooked and really, he was more at risk being killed by a human than a raccoon or feral cat.
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One of the things Peyton loved was just how Marc reacted to him. He had had boyfriends and girlfriends he had loved before; maybe they had had the same burning intensity he had for Marc not but it had faded with time. But one thing he was certain of, they had never reacted like this to him. Was it the age? Marc was younger so he was easier to sweep off his feet? Peyton use to pick serious and mature people? But Marc was mature who was prone to only small bouts of silliness and immaturity, usually brought on by being with his friends. "<b>Well,</b>" he pressed another kiss to Marc's lips, then another, "<b>I would hate to ruin all your plans.</b>" And then he pulled away, putting just enough distance between them that there was still the tantalizing sizzle of warmth between them. Personally, he really would not have minded scooping Marc up into his arms and carrying him off to the bedroom for the rest of their evening, but there were plans. Marc rarely ever had plans that involved Peyton, not out of uncaring for Peyton but more because he usually let Peyton take the lead. He let Peyton make the plans and that was it. He laughed as Marc gave a drawn out no and he lifted his hands to cup Marc's face. "<b>You are. The cutest man this side of Texas. Probably even the world. How'd I get such a cute guy in my life? I must have done something right.</b>" And that was something he honestly believed. He was pretty sure he had to have done something right because Marc was in his life. Marc was perfect for him, had made him the happiest man in the entire world – he had moved for Marc under the guise of needing to get up, to move, to not be stationary, and then he just went ahead and became happily set. "<b>You're so sweet, baby. I gotta admit I like the way you see me.</b>" They could argue back and forth that Peyton wasn't perfect or at least he wasn't the most perfect in the world...but that was how Marc saw him. Just like how Peyton saw Marc as the sweetest and cutest man to exist. It made Peyton so happy that he <i>could</i> be seen that way.
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"<b>Either way, I'm very concerned and it's a super good thing he married a nurse.</b>" Lillian wouldn't let him die, at least. Granted, anyone who dated someone would know how to call an ambulance for them. But at the same time, he was good man, despite the fact that Peyton just didn't get him and he doubted he would ever be more than just a casual chat at a bonfire or two or maybe dropping Marc off to spend time with Curtis. Then again, sometimes that was how Peyton felt with <i>all</i> the Taylors. Everyone seemed to be more Marc's friends than his...which was as it should be, he supposed. James was, according to Marc, like his older brother (Marc always stopped when he said that, looked incredibly sour, and corrected it to <i>younger brother</i> because Marc was two months older than James, thank you very much). He was family and Marc had escaped to the Taylor homestead multiple times. Not as much as he had gone to the Ramos family, though. Marc had always been quick to say that it felt kind of awkward going to James' home when he wasn't there, but Gabi's? God, he went to Gabi's home still with her all the way in Los Angeles because he had been more or less adopted by them. So Peyton wasn't going to be too upset or bothered by the fact that he wasn't <i>as</i> close to the Taylors as Marc. That was like saying Marc should have been as close to Tibby because Peyton could easily say Tibby was his best friend. He snorted a little bit as Marc teased him. "<b>Well of course, we wouldn't want to make it not special...but boy, I would enjoy every moment of it that I got it.</b>" He gave a pleased little rumble. He had never thought of getting massages before, honestly. They just hadn't seemed like a big deal and people paid crazy amounts for a bit of pampering that just wasn't needed. But he could understand wanting this.
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"<b>Can I just say I was never very cat like before I met you?</b>" he laughed softly. People always associated him more with a dog; a German Shepherd, they said, very noble and serious. Cat had never come in because he wasn't exactly "prissy" like a cat. And then Marc. "<b>I know, right? They'll never know the joy of getting to watch someone like you and how expressive you are even in sleep.</b>" Selfishly, Peyton was glad that Marc hadn't been snatched up. Maybe it wouldn't have sounded so awful if Marc had just been single this entire time. But Marc had been carrying a crush for James, he had had the high school "sweetheart" that had been awful for him, he had had Prosper...and selfishly Peyton was glad those relationships hadn't worked out. "<b>I know. It's why I brought it up rather than announcing it.</b>" Maybe with someone else, Peyton would have just said 'go ahead and quit, do what you love' but Marc was different. Marc was the person you had to bring the idea up slowly and put it in his hands even when he wasn't entirely sure he <i>wanted</i> it in his hands. "<b>I get that,</b>" he said softly. Because he did. Lots of people saw him and saw confidence and for the most part, he did have that. But everyone had that thing they thought they were good at and it felt like that was it. Peyton? He felt he was really good at the physical work that came with being a former army man and a police officer. The accounting degree he had? The accounting job he had? Not so much. It seemed natural instinct to feel like you had one true skill. He let his hands still as Marc started tracing patterns on his chest, only moving his thumbs. "<b>We got money,</b>" he said by way of agreement. "<b>We're comfortable. Maybe we're not going to be able to go out and buy new cars whenever mine gets dirty, but if we're careful with stuff we do have, we're not exactly going to want for anything.</b>" It was one of those things he was proud of. He never exactly felt as if his family was poor, they had money because they all had good jobs. It was just that he had always worried when he was younger that he wouldn't be able to manage it on his own. He worried he wouldn't know what to do. Then he got older and he realized he didn't need the newest gadget to replace the old one that was running fine or how he was able to extend the life of something for a couple more months before he bought a new one. "<b>I want you to be happy,</b>" he said seriously as Marc said it was something to think about. "<b>I want you to be able to enjoy doing your job, whatever it is, because everyone deserves that feeling...it's just most people get caught in doing what they have to to survive. I won't push you but I'll be there if you want someone to throw ideas at and talk about pros and cons. Because I know you, kitten, you'll circle around in your own head and all the cons will start piling up to what you think is accurate, which might not be real world accurate.</b>" He leaned up so he could press a kiss to Marc's shoulder. "<b>And like I said, it doesn't have to be an all or nothing right away. You taught me once that streaming is all about consistency, right? So you find out something you want right now, then you could see if you like it, if you wanted to do more or maybe something else will catch your eye.</b>"
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Marc Miller

Marc watched as Snickers continued to wriggle excitedly at Peyton and then made a mad dash - or her version of one - off throughout the house. She would most likely go and bother Harris or scoop up a toy now, burning off some of the energy that she always had the minute that Peyton came home. It was endearing to watch and no one ever believed Marc when he said that she could move when she wanted to. Snickers had never been bothered by only having three legs. It was only the humans in the world that had ever thought she couldn't do something. She had a zest and a zeal for life that was almost unmatched. Marc couldn't help but to blink a little as Peyton gave him a considering look before he said that his lips looked broken. For a second or two, he wondered what Peyton meant. His lip rings? But Peyton liked those! Had he been biting them again, were they chapped? But then Peyton moved forward and snagged his arm around Marc's waist. Peyton leaned in quickly and kissed him. Marc made a small squeak of surprise but he relaxed into the kiss easily enough, making a small noise of contentment as Peyton let the kiss deepen without taking it to extreme levels. It was a comforting, loving thing that Marc couldn't quite get enough of. When Peyton finally pulled back, he drew in a breath and just stared at the older man for a long moment, eyes focusing only on his face before he finally recovered from the kiss. "Really? I'm gonna withhold grapes just to see that," Marc teased lightly. "Rascal came from a breeder though. Most wild raccoons are just gonna run off. Not throw a temper tantrum like a two year old." He knew that Peyton had a hard time wrapping his head around that. But, then again, it didn't seem like Chicago was a place that was big on exotic pets. At least, not the variety that could be found in some other states. Marc knew plenty of people that sold things like raccoons, foxes, skunks and even coyotes as pets that had been bred from more domesticated parents. Peyton just seemed unable to figure out why.

Marc loved Peyton, loved just about everything about him, but there were some days he honestly wished that Peyton didn't affect him so strongly. Not for anything other than the simple fact that he just couldn't think sometimes when Peyton was lavishing attention on him. He lost all ability to do anything except just... squirm and try to process what was happening. His brain overloaded on the feelings of pleasure and the feelings of absolute love and adoration that he held for the other man. That didn't stop him from giving the tiniest of whines when Peyton kissed him and then pulled away just enough that it was even worse than when he had been pressed close. Marc could still feel the heat of the other man all while not touching him in the least. He almost, almost, said forget his plans. There would be other nights. Instead, though, he just pouted a tiny bit. "You are awful 'n terrible," he told him without any feeling or heat to the words in the least. He squirmed some as Peyton reached out, laughing, and put both of his hands on Marc's cheeks. "You were smokin' hot and walked into the bar I worked at. That sounds like doin' something exactly right." Marc thanked his lucky stars every day that it had happened. That Peyton had come in, that it had been slow, that he had been working. Peyton had agreed to a night with him. Peyton had moved down for him. They loved each other more and more every day. Somehow, some way, both of them had done something right and been rewarded. "It's just how I feel," he said, almost awkwardly. He couldn't explain it other than that it just was. He couldn't see Peyton as anything other than what he saw him as.

Marc gave a small laugh at Peyton's words. "She takes good care of him." It had been another one of those things that had hurt a little way back when. He had tried to move off of his crush on James and ended up crushing on Curtis. He still wasn't quite sure if Curtis had any interest in men or not - it wasn't something he felt like he should bring up - but it hadn't mattered. Just like with James, with most of James' family, the minute that he had seen Lillian it had all been over. And their story was so ridiculously over the top romantic comedy that it almost seemed like a script had been written for them. It had hurt initially because he had just felt alone all over again but Marc was glad for them. They were happy. Selfishly, he thought that maybe no one could be as happy as he and Peyton were but still. They were happy and Marc was glad for them both. And he was glad that he had kept the friendship up with Curt because, in some ways, they were almost exactly alike. Plus, it had given him a chance to hide what he was trying to learn and to practice it out. Not to mention they had both learned, too, which meant it probably was going to benefit the two of them. Everyone had gotten something out of it. He gave a small laugh at Peyton's snort and his response to the tease. "I'll take care of you, baby," he said, meaning it in so many ways. From doing things like this to the more mundane things, like doing laundry or cooking dinner. He would always take care of Peyton.

"Maybe you were but nobody else saw it. Or maybe you just adapted." Because Marc loved dogs. But he also loved cats. And while he could say many times that Peyton had reminded him of a dog, there had been instances - usually when Marc was petting him or scratching his chin - that Peyton reminded him of nothing more than a very large cat. Marc made a small noise at Peyton's words and just kissed the top of his head again. It filled him with an embarrassed warmth when Peyton spoke like that. "And no one will get to see your smile or hear your low voice or see how strong you are." He didn't know how he had gotten so lucky. He didn't know what god or luck or whatever had decided that Peyton should be sent to some small town in Texas to do their books but he thanked everything they had and that no one but he would ever know these things. Marc just licked at his lips as Peyton spoke, making a small, considering noise as he said he had brought it up for that very reason. At least Peyton understood him - better than Marc understood himself sometimes. He had learned over their time together that Marc was hesitant and needed time to warm up to most ideas, even things that he wanted to do. He didn't just lob things at him and expect him to handle it. He kept his fingers tracing patterns, half closing his eyes as Peyton rubbed circles against his hips with his thumbs. For a long moment, he just listened to Peyton as he spoke. His heart couldn't help but soar when Peyton said he wanted him to be happy, to enjoy his job, and when he used that special pet name that always made Marc practically squirm with glee. He couldn't stop himself from ducking his head somewhat, though, as Peyton quite rightly said that Marc would run the ideas over and over in his head until it sounded awful and then he just knew he shouldn't do it at all in the first place. Peyton knew him far, far too well sometimes. "You know me too well, baby," he mumbled the words out sheepishly. He smiled as Peyton leaned up to kiss his shoulder, moving his hand to play with the dark blond strands of hair. "I'll... think about it. And I promise I won't let myself chase my tail on it. I'll think and talk to you and maybe Gabi or someone else. I think I'd like to but... I can't decide right away." There were very few things he'd ever been able to do that about - when James was hurt, when Gabi needed him, when Peyton asked him to marry him - and he needed time to get used to the idea of a change but... it might be something exciting and worthwhile.
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Peyton Brooks
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"<b>There she goes, off to her next great adventure.</b>" Peyton was glad he had gotten her. Oh, he had known logically that he didn't need a dog. Hell, he had spent years without a pet, not since he and his brother had been small and found a cat. Honestly he had never really thought about pets for himself, not even when Marc had been waxing on and on about how great dogs were and cats were the best had he really entertained the idea. When he had bought Harris, he hadn't thought about it. When he had bought her after a long night of taking dogs and cats from a hoarder, he had never really thought about why he had done. These days? These days he felt like it might have been another way to solidify to himself that this was home now. There was always a part of him that expected to be deploying any day, even when he knew he was retired. Marc had helped with that, but Snickers? He never would have gotten a dog for himself if he were still in the army. He grinned against Marc's lips at the squeak before he relaxed into the kiss. Every time he kissed Marc was a bit like kissing him for the first time – exploring, discovering, just...feeling. He couldn't remember the last time a kiss had made him feel so content. He had never had someone he could kiss like this where it didn't feel either a little too "on the cheek", so to speak, or like they were trying to get to more fun parts of the evening. Marc was just all sorts of perfect for Peyton. "<b>Baby, don't withhold grapes from me,</b>" he whined, "<b>I need 'em.</b>" He leaned in to nuzzle at Marc's temple a bit. "<b>I still can't believe there are breeders for raccoons. Is there really that big of a market for them?</b>" He thought raccoons were pretty cute – he remembered feeding one when he had been in Germany – but to need a breeder for pets? Maybe he was just too use to normal pets. The most exotic he could remember in Chicago had been a ball python from one of the weird kids in high school. Though...he had heard rumors of pet tigers when he had traveled, so who was he to judge?
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He grinned at Marc, feeling his chest get heavy with...rightness, maybe was it. A lot of times when he had been working late into the night or listening to someone chatter about what exactly was wrong with people from Chicago (all that crime! All those drugs! Prostitutes on every corner!), he had wondered if he had made the right choice in moving. He had been itching to go somewhere, anywhere, a place where he didn't have to be an accountant and be reminded of how his life had changed...but here? Here, it was strange. It shouldn't have worked. But when he looked into Marc's blue, blue eyes or heard him cackling over something or talking somewhat rapid fire Spanish with Gabi or Lillian or the girls' grandparents, he thought...this was right. He had done the right thing. It wasn't often he just <i>knew</i> like that. "<b>I am just the worst,</b>" he agreed teasingly, "<b>I took a college course in being mean.</b>" Some days, he wondered if he could have convinced Marc to move to Chicago. Most days, he was just content. He pressed his hands in a little, smushing Marc's face the tiniest bits with the pressure. "<b>I don't think smoking hot is something that can be achieved to the idea of rightness.</b>" He paused. "<b>I mean, depending. I guess some people try really hard at it.</b>" He had never considered himself smoking hot though, probably about as much as Marc considered himself cute. Personally, he felt like he was even less attractive then he had been when he had been in the army. There were new lines under his eyes and he <i>had</i> gained a bit of weight again once he wasn't constantly working. That didn't exactly spell out hot. He leaned in, pressing a gentle and chaste kiss on Marc's lips at the vaguely awkward comment. "<b>Well, it makes me feel good. I like it.</b>" It had always made him preen a little bit, maybe because, to him, Marc looked like he could have had any man he wanted. Which wasn't exactly untrue, according to Gabi considering half of their little guild gang had either dated Marc, crushed on Marc, or said Marc was cute and it wouldn't have been <i>awful</i> to date him. Not to mention there was that coffee shop guy too now.
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"<b>He seems to be utterly in love...and she in her own way.</b>" Some days, he felt like an outsider. Maybe he shouldn't at this point, but...He looked at Marc's friends (his second family, according to him; Gabi was his first, James had been his second, and his own...not his family at all) and he realized just how oddly intertwined they were. He supposed it wasn't anything odder than anyone else – James and Rosemary meeting at a bonfire, Caleb and Clyde meeting over a flat tire, Martin and Connie meeting in college, Lillian and Curtis meeting because of her grandparents, essentially – but it had all sounded as if it were tied in too close together. Maybe it was because all of them except Caleb had come from the same town or only a little while away. He was a stranger here, a man from Chicago with almost twenty years army experience under his belt. Not like any of the Taylors had that spoken for them. At least it let him look at these people with a slightly unbiased eye. Or so he told himself, because he needed to comfort himself somehow. He wrapped an arm around Marc's waist pulling him close. "<b>Oh I just bet you will,</b>" he teased, burying his face against Marc's neck so he could place obnoxious kisses on the skin. Marc took better care of him then he did himself some days. It was always Marc who made sure his lunches were set up so they remained appetizing, it was always Marc who made sure Peyton didn't have to go digging through his dirty clothes trying to find something that smelled the least. Marc did a lot for him...and there was a part of Peyton that always wanted to ask what Marc got out of it. From Peyton's side of things, it looked like Marc did a lot of things more for him than he did for Marc.
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"<b>I guess I just knew you fucking loved cats,</b>" he teased. One of the best defining moments, for him, about Marc's personality was when they had been lying in bed together after their first time (Marc's true first time) and they had just been talking. Just watching Marc whisper 'I fucking love dogs' had been one of the best moments of Peyton's life. It was just...Marc. Marc, who fucking loved cats and dogs, curse absolutely needed. "<b>What a pair we are,</b>" he laughed. Recently Minty had told him she had met Dom again. His ex, she had clarified when he had been clueless, had apparently gotten himself into a poly relationship with a husband and wife. It was a semi-serious; he was considered their partner, he got to do important things with them (but not <i>all</i> the important things), he had to discuss adding or dating to their little group. It had made him wonder if he could have ever done that. Maybe years ago when he was younger and constantly being deployed, but now that he had Marc? Marc was his everything. He couldn't imagine sharing him with anyone else. Sometimes even sharing him with his friends was hard. There were times when he said he had to do things with Gabi that made him annoyed; he had to, he always said, Gabi really needed a friendly ear and someone to just watch stupid movies with. Peyton had always wanted to grumble and say she had Baz, didn't she, she had two boyfriends, didn't she. If he was like that with one of Marc's oldest friends, he couldn't imagine having someone else in the relationship. He stared up at Marc, rubbing those (hopefully) soothing circles against him as Marc sat there silently for a long moment. Someone else he might have pushed at them, he might have said 'well do you want to or not', but Marc had always been a lot more delicate. He moved a hand to cup Marc's cheek, smiling at a little at him. "<b>I hope so. I've been living with you an awful long while.</b>" Some days, he felt he knew Marc backwards and forwards. Some days, he felt he didn't know Marc at all. Most days, he contented himself in thinking that he knew the important parts of Marc. "<b>You take all the time you need, baby, it's not an offer that's got an expiration date.</b>" He paused, mulling it over. "<b>I mean maybe when my pension runs out but considering I'm told that's a lifetime thing...</b>" He kissed Marc's shoulder again. "<b>You talk with whoever you need to. You make your choice and just let me know when you're ready. It's a pretty big life change.</b>"
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Marc Miller

"Until she gets bored of it," he said fondly. Eventually, Snickers would get tired of entertaining herself and would come and bother her humans. Or rather, she would probably come and bother Peyton and if he were busy she would come and bother Marc. It was nice to have the dog, and the cat. Their house felt... complete. It was like a picturesque family. There were the two of them and then one dog and one cat. They didn't have a white picket fence, but it almost felt as if they should. He was sure someone would mention that kids would be the ideal addition to the picture but Marc didn't think so. They had a good, content life the way things were right now. When he felt Peyton grin into the kiss, he almost raised a hand up to smack at the older man's arm. It was hard to think about doing so, however, because kissing Peyton was something that took up all of his attention. He had kissed other people before Peyton - not many, granted, but more than just him - and he could definitely say that kissing Peyton was different. It was always... well. He hesitated to say magical, but it was the best he could come up with. He gave a laugh at Peyton's whined out words. "You don't even eat grapes that often," he teased the other man before he gave a content sigh as Peyton nuzzled against him. "I guess it's not uncommon in states where it's legal? I know there's some place up north that sells foxes and coyotes, too, if you can believe it." Marc could understand foxes, kind of. Coyotes, though? That seemed to be asking for trouble. Anything bigger than a certain size and exotic seemed to be asking for the wild nature to show back up and something to get mauled. But, then again, what did Marc know? He was no expert.

Peyton grinned at him and Marc wrinkled up his nose at the expression that said the older man was far too pleased with himself. It was a good distraction from just how overwhelmed Marc felt at the moment with love. Some would say that was a good thing - and it was - but Lord, he forgot how to think and act when he started feeling like that. Marc needed things in small doses, he supposed; even happy emotions. "Ha, see, I knew it," he said as Peyton said that he was the worst and that he took a college course in being mean. The teasing was forgotten, however, when Peyton put some pressure on his face and Marc just wrinkled his nose again in response to it. "Uh, well, it did somethin' right for me at the time, let me tell you." Marc had had times where he really, really wanted someone and so the feeling hadn't been new but... at the same time, he had never felt so desperate in hoping that something might work out as he had with Peyton. Maybe it had been lust or fate or divine intervention, he didn't know. He blushed a tiny bit at the all too chaste kiss, ducking his head somewhat. "I'm glad," he said, honestly. He was glad his weird statements and awkwardness made Peyton feel good. There was always something very nice in knowing that you had made someone else feel good, after all... and it was important to him that Peyton always knew how much he liked him in all ways.

"The Taylor gift, I guess," Marc said with a small laugh. It had always baffled him the way that family worked. He wondered if it was some sort of... he didn't know. Animal instinct? Magic? He hadn't mentioned much of it to Peyton, although Peyton had surely heard the way that most of the partners had met and how different it was from normal people. It was never a normal thing. The situation might have been normal, but the feeling of rightness and rushing into marriage wasn't. Then again, he supposed he couldn't cast stones. He had known he wanted to be with Peyton forever after one night. He smiled at the arm around his waist and then he couldn't stop himself from giving out a few shrieks as Peyton placed obnoxious kisses against his neck. It was never anything he planned on doing. It was just... one moment he would be sitting normally and the next Peyton would be kissing him obnoxiously, tickling him, rolling him about, and he would just start yelling and shrieking at the top of his lungs without even realizing that he had done it. It had lead to multiple embarrassing moments, particularly when they had gone to visit Peyton's family and they had actually come to see if everything was okay. Marc had just about sunk into the ground at that. He reached up to push Peyton away with a giggle. "I will, okay?" he told the other man. Because he liked doing it. He liked knowing Peyton had a good meal, that he mostly didn't have to worry about laundry or the like. Granted, sometimes Marc didn't have time for this or that. Sometimes he got busy or forgot. Mostly, though, he did his best to make sure that Peyton, who had the far harder job, had an easier time of things at home.

Marc couldn't stop himself from giggling at the all too serious way that Peyton said that. "Heck yeah I do," he said after a moment. It had become such a joke between them that Marc didn't think he could fully explain to anyone else - or wanted to, really. It was something that had come from a private, intimate moment and had come to mean something to the both of them as a private but important joke between them both. He smiled a little at Peyton's words. "A pair that doesn't like to share," he said with a small laugh of his own. There were things he didn't mind sharing about his relationship with some people. He told Gabi probably more details than he probably should, in all honesty (and she, him). Despite that, there were days that he didn't want anyone to see or hear certain things that Peyton did. He wanted that one smile reserved for him. He wanted that low, low voice that always did things to his chest to only be heard by him. It was greedy and selfish but he didn't care. He didn't want to share and that was that. It almost made him... pleased to realize that Peyton didn't want to share, either. Oh, sometimes they had to. Sometimes Peyton's army friends, his new partner and his cop buddies, his brothers and sister, wanted to spend time with him and Marc had to let him go. Just like, sometimes, Peyton had to let him go watch a movie with Gabi or spend hours talking to someone on the phone to help them with something. It was part of being adults, he supposed, even when sometimes they didn't want to be. He tried to focus on the feel of Peyton's thumbs on his hips and not let his thoughts chase each other in circles. When Peyton cupped his cheek, he leaned his head into the touch, resting there against the other man's hand. "Hopefully for a lot longer," he sighed the words out contentedly. He smiled a little as Peyton told him to take all the time that he needed. Then Marc paused for a moment, tilting his head as a thought struck him. "Do you think they ever realized that giving people a lifetime pension when were animals are a thing might bite them in the ass?" he questioned idly. Not that he was going to complain about their having extra money for years and years but it was an interesting thought. He sighed at the soft kiss against his shoulder and just rested his hand in Peyton's hair. "It is. I promise I won't run myself into the ground over it." A hard promise, because it was like second nature by now for him to do something like that.
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