![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
burntcopperTitle : Culture is Never Wasted
Author : Gunbunny
Fandom : Eagle
Pairing : Esca/Marcus
Rating : sex! Unexpurgated sex!
Word count: 13,111
Summary : Step-Up/Billy Elliot AU, aka 'I have no shame and am a Matthew Bourne obsessive'.
Disclaimer : Not mine. Rosemary Sutcliff's. Also gratuitous Matthew Bourne fangirling. Esca's career is based on Richard Winsor's.
Feedback : I accept burnt offerings and alcohol. ta to Taz, Pete and Jane for beta-ing.
AO3 link
On Sunday, the entire crew are on the escalator at Angel tube. They'd got from Marcus that he was going to see the male Swan Lake when they got to London, and having heard a hell of a lot about it from other dancers (many of whom gush about it scarily) or seen snippets depending, Jamelia managed to score a group deal on tickets for the matinee.
Leon eyes the poster for it as they go up. "Man, they like their threatening imagery, don't they?"
Rosa shrugs. "I saw some of it on tv. The swans are not cute. At all."
Marcus doesn't say anything. He's just staring at the image of Esca with a dark slash of paint down his face, all corded muscle, and trying not to think of what he looked like in his kitchen yesterday. And crossing his fingers that it's Esca performing today.
The foyer of the theatre's packed, people milling and chattering. Marcus drifts over to the board showing who's performing tonight, and grins. Esca MacCunoval as Swan/Stranger. Bonus.
Settle in, there's some stuff about a prince and a distant mom who's a serious MILF, royal appearances, then the prince unveils a statue. Half the crew's jaws drop. Naked guy, back to the audience, powdered white, and Marcus is really fucking glad his coat's in his lap. Naked statue guy is definitely Esca, he'd know that ass and back anywhere. Squinting slightly, he can see a slightly darker bit on the statue's arm that's probably Esca’s tattoo. Some stuff about how the Prince is definitely more appreciative of the statue than he's supposed to be, and Marcus totally knows where he's coming from.
Dance continues, and it's really fucking funny in places, then comes the bit where the Prince gets to the park, depressed as fuck, and... swans. Marcus swallows, hard. Because the cute guy he had his hands on Friday night and flirted with in his kitchen is now this thing of sheer fucking physical power. He's seen Esca play threatening, dangerous and downright fucking psycho before, but... yeah. He gets why this piece is legendary now.
Second half: Queen goes full-on MILF, and Leon may need a bucket for his drool. However, Marcus now gets why so many women of his acquaintance like men in leather pants, now that he's seen Esca prowl across the stage in the damn things. Though he's slightly weirded out by the fact that he preferred the feathery pants. Less flashy eurotrash vampire look.
They all look a bit shell-shocked at the end, though. "Jesus, they peck them to death? Downer much?" Jamelia asks, even as she's grinning as they finally stop cheering during the bows.
"Swan dies in the usual ballet, J." Rosa shrugs, then grins. "This, though?" She fans herself. "That's all I'm saying."
"We also need to talk about the woman playing the Queen." Leon says. "Damn. Can I volunteer to be one of her soldier boys?"
"Leon, you don't need to tell us, you were this far from leaping over the balcony, running on stage and humping her leg." Jamelia says, holding her fingers a fraction apart, then slapping Marcus on the shoulder. "This guy, on the other hand, is in his happy place and ain't coming down anytime soon. But at least he's got the class not to drool."
On finally getting out, they go to the pub round the corner for a drink before deciding where to go next. Obie's in the middle of figuring out how he can get some big jumps into a routine when a bunch of people walk in the door, chattering about the performance and who tripped up and who made near misses and cursing particular moves. Pretty obvious they're the company, especially given a very familiar face in their midst.
Marcus goes up for another round and squeezes in next to Esca, nudging him to get his attention. Esca looks up, blinks slightly in recognition, then grins. "Afternoon, stranger."
Marcus grins back. "Hi again. So, can I buy you a drink?"
"Well, you've not spilt one over me..."
Marcus cringes. "You remember that?"
"Sticks in the mind a bit." He nudges him back. "Nah, it's my round, but I'll need a hand carrying all this back." The barman comes over, and Esca lists off a bunch of drinks, counting them off on his fingers, then turns back to Marcus. "So did you see the performance? What did you think?"
Marcus gives him a disbelieving look, then nudges him again with his arm. "You know you're really good. Seen you perform before in Edward Scissorhands and Dorian Gray. Only I didn't know it was ...you know. You."
Esca sniggers, and Marcus really needs to make him do that again. "I'm shocked you didn't recognise me at the bar after Edward Scissorhands. Pretty good dancer yourself."
Marcus shrugs. "Yeah, we're over at the Barbican. Hip-hop group, start our two weeks on Monday."
Esca furrows his brow, then nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, my mate who was with me on Friday is going to see you on her night off. The Legion, right?"
"Yeah, that's us." Marcus says. "Not coming?"
Esca sighs. "Full time on this til the end of January. If I'm not playing the Swan, I'm doing one of the other roles. Or dead to the world, since we go into extra matinees as well mid-December. Can't complain, one of my mates is in panto this season and says he only wishes he had four matinees a week." Marcus is not going to ask about panto. He's heard rumours about it, you can't help it if you work in Britain since it's their major Christmas theatre, but no-one explains it. The pictures alone are fucking scary, like cabaret and clowns and Disneyland all took an acid trip together.
They get the drinks, pass them out, then settle at a small table together, knees knocking. They're all small tables in British pubs, and Marcus is not complaining. At all. Even though the chairs are made for midgets and set really close to the ground.
"So when'd you start dancing?" Esca asks, taking a sip of his drink.
"14 or so." Marcus replies. "Sports before that. Dancing just looked fun. What about you? You have to start ballet early, right? Bet you were a real Billy Elliot." Esca winces. "Was it something I-" Marcus asks, worried he's put his foot in his mouth. Maybe it's an insult to Brit dancers? American ones don't have a problem with it, they love that movie. Esca doesn't reply, just looks like he's waiting for something.
At which point all his company chorus "Billy Elliot, you're a disgrace to them gloves, your father, and the traditions of this boxing hall!" and collapse into giggles.
Esca groans. "Never fails."
"...Is that like a thing in ballet?" Marcus asks, turning round to stare at them, but they're too busy giggling. "Like saying Macbeth in theatre means you have to knock three times?" He really needs to find out more about ballet and modern dance. He might start getting some of the jokes then.
"Just me." Esca grimaces. "It's a thing."
One of the others walks over and ruffles Esca's hair. "We do it for his own good, he loves it really."
"Not the amount you bastards do it." Esca mutters, pushing him off and running a hand over his hair to get it back into order.
The other guy gives him a shit-eating grin, poking him in the shoulder. "Go on, do a quote from it, it's really cute. Bet your friend'd like it."
Marcus shrugs. "Only seen a bit of it with my little cousin so I'd have no idea if he was doing it right."
"You, I like." Esca says, tilting his drink at him.
They keep chatting for another couple of hours, getting another drink, the two crews swapping stories about touring and moaning about shitty theatres they have known. Marcus is trying to play it a bit cool, since begging for another date on your knees would make him look really fucking desperate, but he's thinking that might be what he ends up doing, though dragging Esca to the pub bathroom and giving him a blowjob is a version of that he’s also considering. He's about to draw breath to ask when one of the Brit lot checks their watch and curses. "Shit. Oi, Esca! Time to go back for evening!"
Esca stops mid-story about the time during rehearsals he had to be rescued from the Christmas tree by half the company and checks his watch. "...Bollocks, you're right." He makes a gimme gesture at Marcus. "Here, gimme your mobile." Marcus hands his phone over, and Esca taps at it before handing it back. "Okay, call me, I get out at 10:30, okay?" He pauses and flushes slightly. Marcus is not - repeat *not* - thinking how cute that is on someone he just saw sexually harass a whole theatre by just sitting there."Um, what is your name again? I don't think I caught it on Saturday."
Marcus grins. " 'S okay, pretty sure you were too busy trying to keep me from the bacon. Marcus."
"Marcus. Right." Esca nods, knocking back the last of his drink and grabbing his coat. "10:30, okay?" He calls as he goes out the door with the rest of them.
Marcus turns back round to be faced with all his crew smirking at him. "I think our little Marcus has a sure thing there, what do you guys think?" Jamelia says, crossing her arms.
"Nah, he's playing hard to get." Leon says.
"Because making out with him at least twice before that I heard is totally the new definition of hard to get." Rosa says pointedly.
Marcus relaxes back into his chair and grins. "You're all just jealous you didn't get a shot."
"Like anyone else could get a look in with you eclipsing everything else when you stand near someone, Bigfoot." Rosa retorts, throwing a peanut at his head.
----
On the South Bank, killing some time in the morning before they have to go do the matinee in their respective bits of town. Marcus has already checked out the BMX-skate bit, and is currently making sounds that sound disturbingly like reliving his childhood. "Oh, come on, like you didn't have a skateboard?"
"Nope. Bike, yes, but not the skateboard. I didn't have this urge to re-live the 80s like some people." Esca says, dodging a bunch of Spanish tourists not looking where they're going.
"Oh, come on, skateboards are necessary to the life of teenagers. If you didn't get at least one fracture on a skateboard, you weren't doing it right." Marcus complains. "What did you do for fun?"
"I took dancing lessons and played footie."
Marcus shakes his head. "Lacking." They wander into the NAMCO arcade, looking around the games. "I haven't had a chance to play on any of these in ages."
"I have an Xbox back home." Esca points out.
"So not the same thing." Marcus replies. "I can't decide which driving game to go on first." He turns round, and stops dead in his tracks, spotting a machine hidden behind a pillar from where they came in. It's a Dance Dance Revolution game. Marcus takes a running jump, swinging over the bars to land on one of the pads, pressing at the buttons to get through the menu. "C'mon, dance-off time."
"Er." Esca says. "I can just watch, that's fine."
"What, you never did this either?" Marcus demands. "We used to play on these all the time."
Esca points at Marcus, then points at himself. "City boy. Small town. Our local arcade was two machines in the corner of the supermarket. Plus, ballet and tap dancer."
"So? It's just co-ordination." he flicks through the songs. "Boyzone? The hell? Okay, I Will Survive is okay for cheese, I suppose..." Then his eyes light up. "Dude. They have Cameo. Full-on old school. You have to do this."
"I'm going to regret this." Esca mutters, reluctantly getting up on the podium. Two minutes later, he decides he's right. "Argh, how do you do this? I'm stepping on the right bits some of the time, I know I am, but it's still telling me I fail."
"Look, you just wait for the arrow to get to the top of the screen. And use the whole of the foot, not just the ball. Stomp more." Marcus instructs as the score for that round flashes up. He grins. He can't help it, the flailing and swearing is really... cute. Especially on someone he's used to seeing move with such grace, unless he's attempting to dance to hip-hop.
"It's all right for you, you're not even looking and you're getting a perfect score." Esca grumbles.
"It's still on the easy setting. Look, let's try moderate -"
A voice from the floor interrupts him. "Hey, let someone who can actually do this have a go. Watching you two amateurs is full-on painful."
Esca jumps down to make way for the kid, all too glad to escape the dance pad. "Be my guest."
"You too, Bigfoot." the kid says, making shooing motions at Marcus with one hand as he programs in a new session. Esca covers his mouth at the image, since the kid barely comes up to Marcus' waist.
"I was teaching him." Marcus points out, folding his arms. "You're going down."
"Bring it." The kid puts it up to the highest setting. "Let's see your moves, grandpa."
The music starts up and Esca settles in, elbows on the bar, to watch the scarily co-ordinated blur of stomping feet. It's like that time he went into the local hall as a kid, not knowing it was linedancing class, only to be confronted by the sight of dozens of adults in cowboy boots heel-toeing without any of the motion he was used to in tap.
After a bit, more of the arcade drifts over to watch them face off, warped electronic music barely discernible over the rest of the arcade noise and the yelling as people pick sides, great big hulking American versus tiny kid. They're kitted out in pretty similar clothes, so there's a mini-me thing going on too.
After the 9th round of near-perfect scores, they stop for a breather and Marcus folds his arms. "All right, you're pretty good for a beginner, I'll give you that. Draw?"
The kid shakes his hand. "Okay, deal. Not bad yourself. Your man there, though..."
Marcus shoots a look at a broadly grinning Esca and shakes his head. "Yeah, I know. Needs more practice."
"Practice? Not in a million years."
Marcus ruffles the kid's afro, then adjusts his own hat. "It can be taught, trust me. I do this professionally. Come back when you get to my level."
"Professionally and you nearly got beat by a kid?" the kid shakes his head sadly. "Man, you so fail." He makes a crash and burn sound, complete with hand gesture.
Esca laughs and tugs Marcus off the podium before he can make a come back. "Come on, let's go find a drink." They emerge back into the sort-of sunlight of the South Bank. Esca shakes his head. "I can't believe you faced off against a kid."
"A battle is a battle." Marcus retorts, shoving his hands into his pockets, then bumps his elbow against Esca's arm. "Next, I graduate to seniors."
"Mmm. Just be glad that wasn't the kid from Diversity." Esca says.
Marcus blinks. "You've heard of them? How do you know the name of a street dance crew?"
"Britain's Got Talent winners." Esca sighs. "Too many people I know are addicted to reality shows, and made me watch the youtube vids."
----
Cleaning up backstage at the Barbican. "Plans for tomorrow?" Rosa asks. "I was going to check out Covent Garden, have a look around."
Marcus shakes his head as he shrugs his hoodie on. "Meeting up with Esca."
"What, again?" Obie asks. "What is this, third time this week?"
"Fourth." Marcus smirks.
Rosa cocks her head. "Precisely how many nights have you spent in your bed at the hotel since we got here?"
"I can answer that, and the answer is not many." Leon smirks, spinning his hat on his finger.
"Getting away from your snoring, man." Marcus replies. "Can you blame me? Sex or sharing a room with your ass. Know which I'd pick."
----
Esca pauses the game after Marcus announces where he wants to go visit tomorrow. "The Natural History Museum? Seriously?" He's this far from auto-cringing at the thought of all the school parties.
Marcus relaxes back against the couch, Xbox controller in one hand. "Dinosaurs. What's not to like?"
Esca thinks it over. On the one hand, school parties. On the other, dinosaurs. And he can get most of his Christmas shopping done if they stop at the gift shop. Also, dinosaurs. "I like the way you think."
"And here I thought it was just my body." Marcus says, stretching in a really obvious getting attention way.
Esca elbows him. "I'm not completely shallow. You move pretty well too."
"Oh?" Marcus asks, pulling him over into his lap. "That a fact?" He teases, rolling his hips.
"Maybe a bit." Esca says, keeping a straight face as he leans down to nip at Marcus' ear.
------
Morning, curled up half-dazed and kissing. Somewhere in the background there's the noise of a cookery programme talking about the best tomatoes to use for pizza. Esca noses a line up Marcus's cheek. "You seriously have to leave tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Tour dates wait for no man, you know that." Marcus sighs.
"Bollocks." Esca says with feeling, palming Marcus' stomach. "I’m going to miss this."
"There’s this thing called Skype." Marcus points out.
"What makes you think I want you for your conversation?" Esca replies, nipping Marcus’ jaw.
"So turn the sound off and pretend I’m porn." Marcus grins, tilting Esca’s chin up so he can reach his mouth.
----
Epilogue.
----
Interval, two weeks after Marcus and his crew left for the next leg of their tour. They're now in Paris and Marcus keeps smirking about 'Royale with Cheese'. "You know you watched Pulp Fiction way too many times as a kid." Esca says, watching Marcus stretch his shoulder.
"Hey, it was so cool it set the standard."
Cottia leans over his shoulder, Simon's spare trousers in hand, as they're constantly needing repairs. It's all that writhing in mental anguish that does something to the seams. "Who're you talking to?" She asks in interest, then sees the screen and waves. Marcus waves back. "Isn't that that hip-hop dancer you were shagging?"
"Yeah, kept in touch." Esca says, covering the mic.
"I thought you were just after what was in his pants."
"Turns out he has an unending ability to spout cheese that's pretty funny."
Cottia pats him on the head, then absently straightens his hair. "Well, don't strain a funny bone before the second act."
Esca releases the mic. "Sorry about that, mad wardrobe person."
Marcus just smirks. "I heard the cheese line. You know you love it." He pauses, checking something offscreen. "Okay, I have to ask. How do you dance with blades on your hands?"
"Very, very carefully during rehearsals and rely on everyone else learning to duck by the time dress rehearsal rolls around." Esca replies.
March. Esca checks his twitter, there's a DM from Marcus.
'In the UK at the O2 for a week in a show for some singer - you want to meet up?'
He grins and replies with 'I'll come and mock you at the stage door on the first night.'
Stage door of the O2. Esca gets in and asks around. "I'm looking for Marcus? Dancer?"
"Sure, second door down that corridor."
He knocks, it opens to reveal Marcus in the middle of towelling his hair. He grins. "Hey, you turned up!"
"Said I would." Esca says, slightly distracted by the bunch of Marcus' arm muscles as he rubs the towel over his head.
"Did you see any of the show?"
"Yeah, you weren't bad." Esca says, pulling a hand out of his pocket to make a rocking motion with it. "Verging on tolerable."
"You really know how to compliment a guy." Marcus says, shoving the towel back to rest around his neck. For a minute they stare at each other, not quite sure what to say now that there isn't a keyboard between them.
Esca scratches his neck. "So, uh, anyway, I-" He notices a bit of water trickling down Marcus' chin, and reaches out to brush it away. "You've got a -" Only problem is, on touching Marcus' skin, his fingers kind of get stuck. Or maybe he gets paralysis. Whichever it is, he's having problems moving his hand away. Marcus' jaw moves as he swallows, and very slowly brings his hand up to Esca's wrist, thumb stroking his pulse. Esca tries to get something coherent out, but he finds that's problematic since his mouth now appears to be welded to Marcus'.
"Jesus Christ, Marcus, get a room!" Someone passing by yells, at which point they stop to breathe.
Marcus takes a deep breath. "I was going to ask you out for a drink before I did that."
"And they say romance is dead." Esca says dryly.
"You're the one with your hand on my ass." Marcus points out.
"I... have no idea how that got there." Esca says sheepishly, then notices his fingers are still stuck to Marcus' face. There may be superglue involved.
"Did you want to go for that drink?" Marcus asks. "I'm saying this before I accidentally kiss you again."
"Might be persuaded." Esca says, finally getting his fingers off Marcus' face to tangle in the towel around his neck, pulling him in for that second accidental kiss.
It's getting close to the end of the singer's run in London. Marcus looks down at Esca where he's slumped into the couch as they're watching a dvd, comfortably curled into one another post-show, and it's been running through his head just how well they click. "You want to give this a go?" Marcus asks.
Esca twists slightly to look up at him. "Give what a go?" He glances back at the screen. "Chucking it all in and becoming hitmen? Can't say I'd enjoy getting shot at."
"Nah. This." Marcus tightens the arm he's slung around Esca. "Us. When we're in the same city."
Esca stares back at the screen for a minute or so, watching another explosion go by. "...Fuck it. Yeah, why not?"
----
So they’re mostly seeing each other a few weeks here, a few weeks there between tours and shows, and a lot of skyping and texting. It’s not perfect but it’s working, and Marcus tries to get more gigs in the UK when Esca’s not off touring far-flung parts of Asia and Europe.
The Matthew Bourne company are on the New York leg of touring their latest production, so of course Marcus gets blackmailed into accompanying his relatives to see it since he’s in New York. Never mind that he saw it in England. Twice, because Esca insisted he see Sam’s performance to compare.
"I still can’t believe you of all people are dating Esca MacCunoval." Livia grumbles as they wait outside the stage door for Esca post-performance. "You don’t even appreciate what he does properly."
"Trust me, Liv, I really, really do." Marcus says, leering for her benefit.
"Ew! Ew!" She shrieks, putting her hands over her ears.
Uncle Aquila sighs and produces long-suffering look #19. He's got a lot of them, he's raising a teenager. "Kindly refrain from tormenting your cousin, her shrieks are rapidly reaching a pitch I find uncomfortable."
"Hey, she started it."
"You didn’t have to say that!" She whines, swatting at him. Marcus doesn’t bother to dodge. She’s got nothing on Jamelia and Rosa.
"Perhaps I should point out, child, that you wouldn’t be getting access if your cousin wasn’t on such good terms with him. And Marcus, kindly stop alluding to your sex life in front of her."
Esca emerges soon after, having got the moustache glue and Brylcreem off, grinning on seeing Marcus. "Hey."
"Hey." Marcus replies, kissing him in greeting.
"Good performance?" Esca asks.
"Ask the experts." Marcus shrugs, turning to introduce his relatives. "My Uncle Aquila and my bratty cousin Livia."
"He wouldn’t know you even existed if we hadn’t taken him to see Edward Scissorhands." Livia pipes up. Marcus glares at her in warning, since he knows that look. That is the look of a teenage girl with a crush, and Esca is his, thank you.
"I’m sure he’s very grateful." Uncle Aquila says, shaking Esca’s hand. "A splendid performance, I must say. I was particularly impressed by the dummy and pas de deux."
Esca grins. "The dummy’s a lot of fun, though I think Sam does it better than me."
"I really liked the pas de deux, it was so romantic and heartbreaking." Livia sighs. "I’ve been a fan of yours since I saw Billy Elliot. You were amazing in that role."
Marcus blinks. "You were actually Billy Elliot?"
Livia stares. "You’re going out with him and you didn’t know?"
"Not seen it." Marcus says, turning to Esca. "I knew you were in it, but-"
Livia taps on her phone and thrusts it in Marcus’ face. "Take a look at the cover of the dvd, dumbass." The cover of the dvd has a picture of a kid on it. With a really familiar name underneath that.
Marcus groans. "You could’ve told me."
Esca just smirks and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Was waiting for you to figure it out. Your obliviousness was pretty impressive considering they mention it in every programme and every interview or article they’ve ever done about me."
"And the Billy Elliot thing your mates do-"
"-Is really me-specific." Esca finishes.
"Learn to use google some time." Livia says, rolling her eyes. "Honestly."
Marcus shrugs. “I did, but I got distracted by the Dorian Gray pics of him in his jock and had to compare them to reality.” Esca coughs, turning slightly red.
Livia’s dawning look of horror is *priceless*.
END
Author's note: The Dance Dance Revolution machine at NAMCO's music options are as reported. And type 'Richard Winsor' into google images to see why Marcus was so distracted. it, er, may not be that worksafe...
Author : Gunbunny
Fandom : Eagle
Pairing : Esca/Marcus
Rating : sex! Unexpurgated sex!
Word count: 13,111
Summary : Step-Up/Billy Elliot AU, aka 'I have no shame and am a Matthew Bourne obsessive'.
Disclaimer : Not mine. Rosemary Sutcliff's. Also gratuitous Matthew Bourne fangirling. Esca's career is based on Richard Winsor's.
Feedback : I accept burnt offerings and alcohol. ta to Taz, Pete and Jane for beta-ing.
AO3 link
On Sunday, the entire crew are on the escalator at Angel tube. They'd got from Marcus that he was going to see the male Swan Lake when they got to London, and having heard a hell of a lot about it from other dancers (many of whom gush about it scarily) or seen snippets depending, Jamelia managed to score a group deal on tickets for the matinee.
Leon eyes the poster for it as they go up. "Man, they like their threatening imagery, don't they?"
Rosa shrugs. "I saw some of it on tv. The swans are not cute. At all."
Marcus doesn't say anything. He's just staring at the image of Esca with a dark slash of paint down his face, all corded muscle, and trying not to think of what he looked like in his kitchen yesterday. And crossing his fingers that it's Esca performing today.
The foyer of the theatre's packed, people milling and chattering. Marcus drifts over to the board showing who's performing tonight, and grins. Esca MacCunoval as Swan/Stranger. Bonus.
Settle in, there's some stuff about a prince and a distant mom who's a serious MILF, royal appearances, then the prince unveils a statue. Half the crew's jaws drop. Naked guy, back to the audience, powdered white, and Marcus is really fucking glad his coat's in his lap. Naked statue guy is definitely Esca, he'd know that ass and back anywhere. Squinting slightly, he can see a slightly darker bit on the statue's arm that's probably Esca’s tattoo. Some stuff about how the Prince is definitely more appreciative of the statue than he's supposed to be, and Marcus totally knows where he's coming from.
Dance continues, and it's really fucking funny in places, then comes the bit where the Prince gets to the park, depressed as fuck, and... swans. Marcus swallows, hard. Because the cute guy he had his hands on Friday night and flirted with in his kitchen is now this thing of sheer fucking physical power. He's seen Esca play threatening, dangerous and downright fucking psycho before, but... yeah. He gets why this piece is legendary now.
Second half: Queen goes full-on MILF, and Leon may need a bucket for his drool. However, Marcus now gets why so many women of his acquaintance like men in leather pants, now that he's seen Esca prowl across the stage in the damn things. Though he's slightly weirded out by the fact that he preferred the feathery pants. Less flashy eurotrash vampire look.
They all look a bit shell-shocked at the end, though. "Jesus, they peck them to death? Downer much?" Jamelia asks, even as she's grinning as they finally stop cheering during the bows.
"Swan dies in the usual ballet, J." Rosa shrugs, then grins. "This, though?" She fans herself. "That's all I'm saying."
"We also need to talk about the woman playing the Queen." Leon says. "Damn. Can I volunteer to be one of her soldier boys?"
"Leon, you don't need to tell us, you were this far from leaping over the balcony, running on stage and humping her leg." Jamelia says, holding her fingers a fraction apart, then slapping Marcus on the shoulder. "This guy, on the other hand, is in his happy place and ain't coming down anytime soon. But at least he's got the class not to drool."
On finally getting out, they go to the pub round the corner for a drink before deciding where to go next. Obie's in the middle of figuring out how he can get some big jumps into a routine when a bunch of people walk in the door, chattering about the performance and who tripped up and who made near misses and cursing particular moves. Pretty obvious they're the company, especially given a very familiar face in their midst.
Marcus goes up for another round and squeezes in next to Esca, nudging him to get his attention. Esca looks up, blinks slightly in recognition, then grins. "Afternoon, stranger."
Marcus grins back. "Hi again. So, can I buy you a drink?"
"Well, you've not spilt one over me..."
Marcus cringes. "You remember that?"
"Sticks in the mind a bit." He nudges him back. "Nah, it's my round, but I'll need a hand carrying all this back." The barman comes over, and Esca lists off a bunch of drinks, counting them off on his fingers, then turns back to Marcus. "So did you see the performance? What did you think?"
Marcus gives him a disbelieving look, then nudges him again with his arm. "You know you're really good. Seen you perform before in Edward Scissorhands and Dorian Gray. Only I didn't know it was ...you know. You."
Esca sniggers, and Marcus really needs to make him do that again. "I'm shocked you didn't recognise me at the bar after Edward Scissorhands. Pretty good dancer yourself."
Marcus shrugs. "Yeah, we're over at the Barbican. Hip-hop group, start our two weeks on Monday."
Esca furrows his brow, then nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, my mate who was with me on Friday is going to see you on her night off. The Legion, right?"
"Yeah, that's us." Marcus says. "Not coming?"
Esca sighs. "Full time on this til the end of January. If I'm not playing the Swan, I'm doing one of the other roles. Or dead to the world, since we go into extra matinees as well mid-December. Can't complain, one of my mates is in panto this season and says he only wishes he had four matinees a week." Marcus is not going to ask about panto. He's heard rumours about it, you can't help it if you work in Britain since it's their major Christmas theatre, but no-one explains it. The pictures alone are fucking scary, like cabaret and clowns and Disneyland all took an acid trip together.
They get the drinks, pass them out, then settle at a small table together, knees knocking. They're all small tables in British pubs, and Marcus is not complaining. At all. Even though the chairs are made for midgets and set really close to the ground.
"So when'd you start dancing?" Esca asks, taking a sip of his drink.
"14 or so." Marcus replies. "Sports before that. Dancing just looked fun. What about you? You have to start ballet early, right? Bet you were a real Billy Elliot." Esca winces. "Was it something I-" Marcus asks, worried he's put his foot in his mouth. Maybe it's an insult to Brit dancers? American ones don't have a problem with it, they love that movie. Esca doesn't reply, just looks like he's waiting for something.
At which point all his company chorus "Billy Elliot, you're a disgrace to them gloves, your father, and the traditions of this boxing hall!" and collapse into giggles.
Esca groans. "Never fails."
"...Is that like a thing in ballet?" Marcus asks, turning round to stare at them, but they're too busy giggling. "Like saying Macbeth in theatre means you have to knock three times?" He really needs to find out more about ballet and modern dance. He might start getting some of the jokes then.
"Just me." Esca grimaces. "It's a thing."
One of the others walks over and ruffles Esca's hair. "We do it for his own good, he loves it really."
"Not the amount you bastards do it." Esca mutters, pushing him off and running a hand over his hair to get it back into order.
The other guy gives him a shit-eating grin, poking him in the shoulder. "Go on, do a quote from it, it's really cute. Bet your friend'd like it."
Marcus shrugs. "Only seen a bit of it with my little cousin so I'd have no idea if he was doing it right."
"You, I like." Esca says, tilting his drink at him.
They keep chatting for another couple of hours, getting another drink, the two crews swapping stories about touring and moaning about shitty theatres they have known. Marcus is trying to play it a bit cool, since begging for another date on your knees would make him look really fucking desperate, but he's thinking that might be what he ends up doing, though dragging Esca to the pub bathroom and giving him a blowjob is a version of that he’s also considering. He's about to draw breath to ask when one of the Brit lot checks their watch and curses. "Shit. Oi, Esca! Time to go back for evening!"
Esca stops mid-story about the time during rehearsals he had to be rescued from the Christmas tree by half the company and checks his watch. "...Bollocks, you're right." He makes a gimme gesture at Marcus. "Here, gimme your mobile." Marcus hands his phone over, and Esca taps at it before handing it back. "Okay, call me, I get out at 10:30, okay?" He pauses and flushes slightly. Marcus is not - repeat *not* - thinking how cute that is on someone he just saw sexually harass a whole theatre by just sitting there."Um, what is your name again? I don't think I caught it on Saturday."
Marcus grins. " 'S okay, pretty sure you were too busy trying to keep me from the bacon. Marcus."
"Marcus. Right." Esca nods, knocking back the last of his drink and grabbing his coat. "10:30, okay?" He calls as he goes out the door with the rest of them.
Marcus turns back round to be faced with all his crew smirking at him. "I think our little Marcus has a sure thing there, what do you guys think?" Jamelia says, crossing her arms.
"Nah, he's playing hard to get." Leon says.
"Because making out with him at least twice before that I heard is totally the new definition of hard to get." Rosa says pointedly.
Marcus relaxes back into his chair and grins. "You're all just jealous you didn't get a shot."
"Like anyone else could get a look in with you eclipsing everything else when you stand near someone, Bigfoot." Rosa retorts, throwing a peanut at his head.
----
On the South Bank, killing some time in the morning before they have to go do the matinee in their respective bits of town. Marcus has already checked out the BMX-skate bit, and is currently making sounds that sound disturbingly like reliving his childhood. "Oh, come on, like you didn't have a skateboard?"
"Nope. Bike, yes, but not the skateboard. I didn't have this urge to re-live the 80s like some people." Esca says, dodging a bunch of Spanish tourists not looking where they're going.
"Oh, come on, skateboards are necessary to the life of teenagers. If you didn't get at least one fracture on a skateboard, you weren't doing it right." Marcus complains. "What did you do for fun?"
"I took dancing lessons and played footie."
Marcus shakes his head. "Lacking." They wander into the NAMCO arcade, looking around the games. "I haven't had a chance to play on any of these in ages."
"I have an Xbox back home." Esca points out.
"So not the same thing." Marcus replies. "I can't decide which driving game to go on first." He turns round, and stops dead in his tracks, spotting a machine hidden behind a pillar from where they came in. It's a Dance Dance Revolution game. Marcus takes a running jump, swinging over the bars to land on one of the pads, pressing at the buttons to get through the menu. "C'mon, dance-off time."
"Er." Esca says. "I can just watch, that's fine."
"What, you never did this either?" Marcus demands. "We used to play on these all the time."
Esca points at Marcus, then points at himself. "City boy. Small town. Our local arcade was two machines in the corner of the supermarket. Plus, ballet and tap dancer."
"So? It's just co-ordination." he flicks through the songs. "Boyzone? The hell? Okay, I Will Survive is okay for cheese, I suppose..." Then his eyes light up. "Dude. They have Cameo. Full-on old school. You have to do this."
"I'm going to regret this." Esca mutters, reluctantly getting up on the podium. Two minutes later, he decides he's right. "Argh, how do you do this? I'm stepping on the right bits some of the time, I know I am, but it's still telling me I fail."
"Look, you just wait for the arrow to get to the top of the screen. And use the whole of the foot, not just the ball. Stomp more." Marcus instructs as the score for that round flashes up. He grins. He can't help it, the flailing and swearing is really... cute. Especially on someone he's used to seeing move with such grace, unless he's attempting to dance to hip-hop.
"It's all right for you, you're not even looking and you're getting a perfect score." Esca grumbles.
"It's still on the easy setting. Look, let's try moderate -"
A voice from the floor interrupts him. "Hey, let someone who can actually do this have a go. Watching you two amateurs is full-on painful."
Esca jumps down to make way for the kid, all too glad to escape the dance pad. "Be my guest."
"You too, Bigfoot." the kid says, making shooing motions at Marcus with one hand as he programs in a new session. Esca covers his mouth at the image, since the kid barely comes up to Marcus' waist.
"I was teaching him." Marcus points out, folding his arms. "You're going down."
"Bring it." The kid puts it up to the highest setting. "Let's see your moves, grandpa."
The music starts up and Esca settles in, elbows on the bar, to watch the scarily co-ordinated blur of stomping feet. It's like that time he went into the local hall as a kid, not knowing it was linedancing class, only to be confronted by the sight of dozens of adults in cowboy boots heel-toeing without any of the motion he was used to in tap.
After a bit, more of the arcade drifts over to watch them face off, warped electronic music barely discernible over the rest of the arcade noise and the yelling as people pick sides, great big hulking American versus tiny kid. They're kitted out in pretty similar clothes, so there's a mini-me thing going on too.
After the 9th round of near-perfect scores, they stop for a breather and Marcus folds his arms. "All right, you're pretty good for a beginner, I'll give you that. Draw?"
The kid shakes his hand. "Okay, deal. Not bad yourself. Your man there, though..."
Marcus shoots a look at a broadly grinning Esca and shakes his head. "Yeah, I know. Needs more practice."
"Practice? Not in a million years."
Marcus ruffles the kid's afro, then adjusts his own hat. "It can be taught, trust me. I do this professionally. Come back when you get to my level."
"Professionally and you nearly got beat by a kid?" the kid shakes his head sadly. "Man, you so fail." He makes a crash and burn sound, complete with hand gesture.
Esca laughs and tugs Marcus off the podium before he can make a come back. "Come on, let's go find a drink." They emerge back into the sort-of sunlight of the South Bank. Esca shakes his head. "I can't believe you faced off against a kid."
"A battle is a battle." Marcus retorts, shoving his hands into his pockets, then bumps his elbow against Esca's arm. "Next, I graduate to seniors."
"Mmm. Just be glad that wasn't the kid from Diversity." Esca says.
Marcus blinks. "You've heard of them? How do you know the name of a street dance crew?"
"Britain's Got Talent winners." Esca sighs. "Too many people I know are addicted to reality shows, and made me watch the youtube vids."
----
Cleaning up backstage at the Barbican. "Plans for tomorrow?" Rosa asks. "I was going to check out Covent Garden, have a look around."
Marcus shakes his head as he shrugs his hoodie on. "Meeting up with Esca."
"What, again?" Obie asks. "What is this, third time this week?"
"Fourth." Marcus smirks.
Rosa cocks her head. "Precisely how many nights have you spent in your bed at the hotel since we got here?"
"I can answer that, and the answer is not many." Leon smirks, spinning his hat on his finger.
"Getting away from your snoring, man." Marcus replies. "Can you blame me? Sex or sharing a room with your ass. Know which I'd pick."
----
Esca pauses the game after Marcus announces where he wants to go visit tomorrow. "The Natural History Museum? Seriously?" He's this far from auto-cringing at the thought of all the school parties.
Marcus relaxes back against the couch, Xbox controller in one hand. "Dinosaurs. What's not to like?"
Esca thinks it over. On the one hand, school parties. On the other, dinosaurs. And he can get most of his Christmas shopping done if they stop at the gift shop. Also, dinosaurs. "I like the way you think."
"And here I thought it was just my body." Marcus says, stretching in a really obvious getting attention way.
Esca elbows him. "I'm not completely shallow. You move pretty well too."
"Oh?" Marcus asks, pulling him over into his lap. "That a fact?" He teases, rolling his hips.
"Maybe a bit." Esca says, keeping a straight face as he leans down to nip at Marcus' ear.
------
Morning, curled up half-dazed and kissing. Somewhere in the background there's the noise of a cookery programme talking about the best tomatoes to use for pizza. Esca noses a line up Marcus's cheek. "You seriously have to leave tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Tour dates wait for no man, you know that." Marcus sighs.
"Bollocks." Esca says with feeling, palming Marcus' stomach. "I’m going to miss this."
"There’s this thing called Skype." Marcus points out.
"What makes you think I want you for your conversation?" Esca replies, nipping Marcus’ jaw.
"So turn the sound off and pretend I’m porn." Marcus grins, tilting Esca’s chin up so he can reach his mouth.
----
Epilogue.
----
Interval, two weeks after Marcus and his crew left for the next leg of their tour. They're now in Paris and Marcus keeps smirking about 'Royale with Cheese'. "You know you watched Pulp Fiction way too many times as a kid." Esca says, watching Marcus stretch his shoulder.
"Hey, it was so cool it set the standard."
Cottia leans over his shoulder, Simon's spare trousers in hand, as they're constantly needing repairs. It's all that writhing in mental anguish that does something to the seams. "Who're you talking to?" She asks in interest, then sees the screen and waves. Marcus waves back. "Isn't that that hip-hop dancer you were shagging?"
"Yeah, kept in touch." Esca says, covering the mic.
"I thought you were just after what was in his pants."
"Turns out he has an unending ability to spout cheese that's pretty funny."
Cottia pats him on the head, then absently straightens his hair. "Well, don't strain a funny bone before the second act."
Esca releases the mic. "Sorry about that, mad wardrobe person."
Marcus just smirks. "I heard the cheese line. You know you love it." He pauses, checking something offscreen. "Okay, I have to ask. How do you dance with blades on your hands?"
"Very, very carefully during rehearsals and rely on everyone else learning to duck by the time dress rehearsal rolls around." Esca replies.
March. Esca checks his twitter, there's a DM from Marcus.
'In the UK at the O2 for a week in a show for some singer - you want to meet up?'
He grins and replies with 'I'll come and mock you at the stage door on the first night.'
Stage door of the O2. Esca gets in and asks around. "I'm looking for Marcus? Dancer?"
"Sure, second door down that corridor."
He knocks, it opens to reveal Marcus in the middle of towelling his hair. He grins. "Hey, you turned up!"
"Said I would." Esca says, slightly distracted by the bunch of Marcus' arm muscles as he rubs the towel over his head.
"Did you see any of the show?"
"Yeah, you weren't bad." Esca says, pulling a hand out of his pocket to make a rocking motion with it. "Verging on tolerable."
"You really know how to compliment a guy." Marcus says, shoving the towel back to rest around his neck. For a minute they stare at each other, not quite sure what to say now that there isn't a keyboard between them.
Esca scratches his neck. "So, uh, anyway, I-" He notices a bit of water trickling down Marcus' chin, and reaches out to brush it away. "You've got a -" Only problem is, on touching Marcus' skin, his fingers kind of get stuck. Or maybe he gets paralysis. Whichever it is, he's having problems moving his hand away. Marcus' jaw moves as he swallows, and very slowly brings his hand up to Esca's wrist, thumb stroking his pulse. Esca tries to get something coherent out, but he finds that's problematic since his mouth now appears to be welded to Marcus'.
"Jesus Christ, Marcus, get a room!" Someone passing by yells, at which point they stop to breathe.
Marcus takes a deep breath. "I was going to ask you out for a drink before I did that."
"And they say romance is dead." Esca says dryly.
"You're the one with your hand on my ass." Marcus points out.
"I... have no idea how that got there." Esca says sheepishly, then notices his fingers are still stuck to Marcus' face. There may be superglue involved.
"Did you want to go for that drink?" Marcus asks. "I'm saying this before I accidentally kiss you again."
"Might be persuaded." Esca says, finally getting his fingers off Marcus' face to tangle in the towel around his neck, pulling him in for that second accidental kiss.
It's getting close to the end of the singer's run in London. Marcus looks down at Esca where he's slumped into the couch as they're watching a dvd, comfortably curled into one another post-show, and it's been running through his head just how well they click. "You want to give this a go?" Marcus asks.
Esca twists slightly to look up at him. "Give what a go?" He glances back at the screen. "Chucking it all in and becoming hitmen? Can't say I'd enjoy getting shot at."
"Nah. This." Marcus tightens the arm he's slung around Esca. "Us. When we're in the same city."
Esca stares back at the screen for a minute or so, watching another explosion go by. "...Fuck it. Yeah, why not?"
----
So they’re mostly seeing each other a few weeks here, a few weeks there between tours and shows, and a lot of skyping and texting. It’s not perfect but it’s working, and Marcus tries to get more gigs in the UK when Esca’s not off touring far-flung parts of Asia and Europe.
The Matthew Bourne company are on the New York leg of touring their latest production, so of course Marcus gets blackmailed into accompanying his relatives to see it since he’s in New York. Never mind that he saw it in England. Twice, because Esca insisted he see Sam’s performance to compare.
"I still can’t believe you of all people are dating Esca MacCunoval." Livia grumbles as they wait outside the stage door for Esca post-performance. "You don’t even appreciate what he does properly."
"Trust me, Liv, I really, really do." Marcus says, leering for her benefit.
"Ew! Ew!" She shrieks, putting her hands over her ears.
Uncle Aquila sighs and produces long-suffering look #19. He's got a lot of them, he's raising a teenager. "Kindly refrain from tormenting your cousin, her shrieks are rapidly reaching a pitch I find uncomfortable."
"Hey, she started it."
"You didn’t have to say that!" She whines, swatting at him. Marcus doesn’t bother to dodge. She’s got nothing on Jamelia and Rosa.
"Perhaps I should point out, child, that you wouldn’t be getting access if your cousin wasn’t on such good terms with him. And Marcus, kindly stop alluding to your sex life in front of her."
Esca emerges soon after, having got the moustache glue and Brylcreem off, grinning on seeing Marcus. "Hey."
"Hey." Marcus replies, kissing him in greeting.
"Good performance?" Esca asks.
"Ask the experts." Marcus shrugs, turning to introduce his relatives. "My Uncle Aquila and my bratty cousin Livia."
"He wouldn’t know you even existed if we hadn’t taken him to see Edward Scissorhands." Livia pipes up. Marcus glares at her in warning, since he knows that look. That is the look of a teenage girl with a crush, and Esca is his, thank you.
"I’m sure he’s very grateful." Uncle Aquila says, shaking Esca’s hand. "A splendid performance, I must say. I was particularly impressed by the dummy and pas de deux."
Esca grins. "The dummy’s a lot of fun, though I think Sam does it better than me."
"I really liked the pas de deux, it was so romantic and heartbreaking." Livia sighs. "I’ve been a fan of yours since I saw Billy Elliot. You were amazing in that role."
Marcus blinks. "You were actually Billy Elliot?"
Livia stares. "You’re going out with him and you didn’t know?"
"Not seen it." Marcus says, turning to Esca. "I knew you were in it, but-"
Livia taps on her phone and thrusts it in Marcus’ face. "Take a look at the cover of the dvd, dumbass." The cover of the dvd has a picture of a kid on it. With a really familiar name underneath that.
Marcus groans. "You could’ve told me."
Esca just smirks and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Was waiting for you to figure it out. Your obliviousness was pretty impressive considering they mention it in every programme and every interview or article they’ve ever done about me."
"And the Billy Elliot thing your mates do-"
"-Is really me-specific." Esca finishes.
"Learn to use google some time." Livia says, rolling her eyes. "Honestly."
Marcus shrugs. “I did, but I got distracted by the Dorian Gray pics of him in his jock and had to compare them to reality.” Esca coughs, turning slightly red.
Livia’s dawning look of horror is *priceless*.
END
Author's note: The Dance Dance Revolution machine at NAMCO's music options are as reported. And type 'Richard Winsor' into google images to see why Marcus was so distracted. it, er, may not be that worksafe...
