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[needlebomb]

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[needlebomb]

[ the only way to really clear out whatever remaining tension marcus feels, in his mind, is to follow in the footsteps of every insecure, egomaniacal asshole he's ever met by just ignoring all his problems and pretending that everything's okay. he still feels like a bit of a parasite by bogeying some of stiles' pizza, despite how enthusiastic stiles sounds now that marcus has caved and promised to eat something, but if he just keeps his head down and his thoughts to himself, then he can blindly and quietly slip a piece of pizza onto his plate while keeping all the build up of guilt and young, teenage self-consciousness to a bare minimum. he focuses on the screen in front of him instead of any anxiety in his stomach, listening to stiles talk from the kitchen and ignoring the irritation that comes with feeling, again, like his hand is being held. he hates being like this. behind. not knowing how to act like other kids his age. it's been this way for longer than he can remember.

still, once stiles is back, drinks and food in hand, marcus takes a bite, lets the pizza melt in his mouth, enjoys the cheese burning his tongue in a masochistic, self-flagellating, marcus-is-a-downer kind of way. he clicks through stiles' library, unreadable and impassive, learning how to use all this with surprisingly fast aptitude. adaptability has always been one of marcus' strongsuits, and if he just focuses on learning something new, he can get the hang of it without too much trouble; it's just a matter of staying motivated, keeping interested. luckily, trying to find never before heard songs by the bands he loves is a pretty high priority for him, and the excitement wins out over anything else he might be feeling, in the end. he drags his cursor to the first song-title that catches his eye and responds to stiles as nonchalantly as he can. ]

Totally gonna fuck your dad if I ever meet him. Really gonna gargle that load.

[ a normal escalation after stiles made an uncomfortable joke about his friends giving his dad mixtapes, he thinks. hidden beneath all the ghostbusters themesongs, rick astley and some band called aqua, stiles has a couple of depeche mode songs on here that were released well past '87. marcus picks one at random, frowning when no audio comes out of the laptop's speakers and figuring out through trial and error what he needs to press to unmute things. for a moment, he's just quiet. the tinny, low-quality sound flows through the speakers and marcus just keeps himself to himself while he processes what he's listening to - a song by a band he loves released years ahead of his timeline and years before stiles' birth, crackling through laptop speakers that barely know how to do the job right. marcus actually gets pretty emotional, the bars hitting him hard in a way that makes him want to crack open his journal and write something new. he doesn't - just listens until the end of the song and resists the urge to hit repeat as it shuffles onto something modern and pop-rock that he doesn't really like.

marcus looks up from the laptop before too long, at least, pretending like his mind is full of nothing but thoughts of chewing his pizza and curling a noodle of cheese around his tongue. he swallows, then shuffles his knees to the side, patting the floor next to him to get stiles' attention, asking him to join him in front of the coffee table. ]

Play me some of your favorites?

[overshirts]

[ by whatever miracle, stiles manages to make it back to the living room and onto the couch without dropping the napkins, the water, or his half-eaten slice of pizza. he sets the bottles of water down on the table first, one by the edge and one closer to marcus, and then kind of nudges the back of his hand against marcus' shoulder as he sits down, wordlessly offering him one of the napkins. once he's settled, he folds one leg and tucks his foot under the bend of his knee, and leans forward to rest his elbow on his thigh so he can watch as marcus browses.

the comment about his dad almost makes him choke on a bite of pizza. he coughs once, twice, mouth closed and eyes watering slightly, and once he gets through it, he clears his throat, slightly red in the face. surprisingly, though, he plays it off and runs with marcus... joke. stiles hopes it's a joke. obviously it's a joke, so... he can joke, too. ]

Whatever. I'm not gonna call you Dad.

[ but also fuck marcus for making stiles think about his dad and literally anything related to sex. stiles focuses on eating the rest of his slice and sits back, listening to whatever song marcus picks. it's a good one, but most of his music is good, bar pretty much anything scott's ever had him download for... "wooing" purposes, or whatever. as he finishes off his first slice of pizza and sits forward again to reach for another, marcus pats the floor near his foot. stiles glances down, arms outstretched toward the cardboard box on the table, and once he realizes he's being invited down onto the floor, he unfold his legs and slides down off the couch, rearranging himself so he's not all up in marcus' space. stiles takes another slice of pizza for himself, and slides another one onto marcus' plate too, while he's at it, pinching his napkin between his fingertips to wipe away any grease before he reaches across the space between them toward his laptop, dragging his fingers across the touchpad. ]

Uhhh. I mean... [ he clicks around, finds a decently-long list of random playlists, and clicks one of them called cartoons, which is... just a playlist of random songs he likes that he can listen to on his phone in the car if and when the radio happens to crap out on him, as if often does. ... car tunes. he hits shuffle. ] I wouldn't say all of these are my favorite, but there are some good ones here.