London, England.
London Borough of Tower Hamlets.
Movie Nation Rental Store
9 P. M.
Why was it always “the unlikely couple?” Why was it never “the likely couple?” “The couple that was obviously meant for one another—that had been made for each other—and everyone, even them, knew it?” What was it about such couples that made them into fantasy, when the equally moronic “opposites attract” couples were accepted as truth? Was it truly such an amazing stretch that someone might like to take a mate they shared something in common with?
Beyond the obvious physical urges, at least.
Marc snorted and re-shelved the DVD he’d been holding in his hands. Around him, other people milled about the various shelves in the florescent-lit box that was the corner video rental store. He really wasn’t even sure why he was here at all. A particularly glittery hot pink box caught his eye and he remembered—ah yes, Adam. The man snorted slightly and reached for it, turning it over to read the back. At least this one wasn’t a romance, but he was getting particularly tired of drag queen comedies staring straight characters. Oh, they were wonderful at first, but then you got a little tired of the gay men being the secondary characters—not that he cared for drag queens as a whole. Actually, a gay bar sounded good on second thought.
The man snorted and pretended to ignore the wary look a man nearby was giving him. Why was it that a woman watching those movies barely registered to the majority, but if a male so much as glanced at the box he was marked? That’s just how it was, Marc supposed. He put the box back.
Gay wasn’t something he wanted right now, at least not in the obvious sense of the word. Something with explosions and buff, sweaty men kicking bad-guy a** were more in the line of what he was looking for. Yet, he couldn’t seem to get Adam out of his mind. They hadn’t really spoken very much since… the change.
Having crossed the room as he thought, Marc found himself wandering between an aisle with Horror on the left and Action on the right. A minute irony in this caused him to smirk and shake his head. “Horror-action,” that was about right. Jim was coming around to the apartment more, now, and Marc found himself out on the streets more often than not. It wasn’t that they had kicked him out—far from it—but he couldn’t stand being around the place while they were being intimate. And they were intimate a lot.
Another box, this one covered in blood and hinting at more vulgarities inside. He flipped it over to skim.
He wasn’t a prude, and he’d been around more than a few boyfriends of Adam’s in the past. Indeed, he’d seen… far more of Adam than he would ever admit to wanting to see—but that was it, wasn’t it? He wouldn’t admit it. Nor did he have any delusions that Adam didn’t realize the truth about it.
With a sigh Marc put the box back and pretended to skim the rest of the selection. He wasn’t really looking, though. There it was that unspoken agreement that had existed between them for so long. Even Adam’s father had seen it, no matter how much he’d tried to deluding himself into believing it was Mariah that Adam had been attracted to. Ever since Mariah had decided to become Marc, ever since she’d begun saving for that operation… there had been the agreement that they would be together.
Never had it been said aloud. It hadn’t even been hinted at, not since the night they’d attempted heterosexual intercourse. Marc chuckled softly to himself, not realizing his eyes were superficially fixated on the image of a decapitated man suspended upon a cross. A nearby mother gave him a strange look and hauled her son pointedly away.
That night had been strange, to say the least for it. They’d ended up in their pajamas, pigging out on junk food and horrendous b-movies, but only after a long, embarrassing fumble-and-grope session in Adam’s bed. It had taken two bottles of tequila stolen from the liquor cabinet to wash away the hurt feelings the episode had caused. (Not to mention no little amount of disgust on both their parts, pertaining primarily to Mariah’s anatomy.)
Their friendship had persevered in the end, and wasn’t that all that mattered? Yet, he couldn’t shake this strange feeling that it was wrong that they weren’t ‘together’ now that he had… the right equipment. It seemed that in the back of his mind, that would always be how it played out: Adam would date whomever he wanted until Marc got his sex change, and then they’d be together. There was something wrong about that idea, too, though, and this was nagging at him.
If he were angry, Marc would have been able to understand himself. If he were jealous, this would make sense. Unfortunately for his poor, confused brain he didn’t feel either. Instead, there was just that nagging estranged feeling at the back of his mind which said that Jim’s presence was wrong. That Adam was meant to be with Marc. The other part, the one that snickered at this, reminded him that Adam was still his best friend, and they still loved each other, and that Jim wasn’t getting in the way of that. In fact, with Jim around, Adam was the happiest that Marc had ever seen him! Wasn’t that a good thing?
Marc turned around so that he wouldn’t seem too odd for staring at the same DVD shelf for the past five minutes. Action now and Laura Croft caught his eye. If Mariah had looked at all like Angelina Jolie, then perhaps she would have wanted to stay a girl. Then again, there wasn’t a person on the planet who wouldn’t turn to necrophilia if it meant a chance with that late-actress. He shook his head.
It was a good thing. Marc rubbed the back of his neck. If he were honest with himself, which he usually tried to be, he knew that it was a wonderful thing that Adam and Jim were together.
((TBC))
