[ any other time, marcus might rag on billy for liking harrison ford, of all people, handsome and chiseled and decidedly mainstream as he is. he's not really in the mood to laugh, though - wouldn't be in the mood even if the thought of killing stiles wasn't still swimming around in the back of his mind, biting at the inside of his skull like a shark. the offer he made billy was supposed to be a joke, easily handed to him under a layer of irony and plausible deniability, but when billy asks if it would help him too, marcus gets annoyed enough to drop some of the pretense. ]
That's not -- I don't care about that.
[ he sits up, stares at the side of billy's face, searches out the eye contact he isn't going to get. billy glances at him half-way and marcus tilts his head, eyebrows up, like he's silently trying to get a little more out of him than that. ]
I don't want anyone to fuck me just because it'll "help" me. I'm not-- if you'll consider this because it'll help you, then we can talk about-- but I'm not offering this because--
[ marcus trips over himself, gets frustrated, and shakes his head, looking away. he draws one knee up and rests his arm on it, staring out over the playground, rusted and nostalgically fucked up. his bottle of beer is still nearby, and marcus doesn't need to take a drink for the added courage, or anything, but he still seeks it out, takes a swig, and shakes his head again, looking down at his feet. he's not sure how to phrase this - not sure how to ask i need to see if i can do something with a guy, and you're the only guy i trust - not sure how to seperate himself from the system while still relying on it just enough so that billy can lean on his quota to convince himself to take marcus up on this. he sounds exhausted when he speaks again. ]
Just - anything I do here is going to be because I want to do it. Not because the city tells me I have to.
[ and he knows that's bullshit, knows that sounds like bullshit with lin's new contract hanging over his head like a guillotine, but it's how he feels. he wants to do what he wants to do. he doesn't want charity, doesn't want to be in anyone's debt, even though he's willing to help people out the same way. ]
no subject
That's not -- I don't care about that.
[ he sits up, stares at the side of billy's face, searches out the eye contact he isn't going to get. billy glances at him half-way and marcus tilts his head, eyebrows up, like he's silently trying to get a little more out of him than that. ]
I don't want anyone to fuck me just because it'll "help" me. I'm not-- if you'll consider this because it'll help you, then we can talk about-- but I'm not offering this because--
[ marcus trips over himself, gets frustrated, and shakes his head, looking away. he draws one knee up and rests his arm on it, staring out over the playground, rusted and nostalgically fucked up. his bottle of beer is still nearby, and marcus doesn't need to take a drink for the added courage, or anything, but he still seeks it out, takes a swig, and shakes his head again, looking down at his feet. he's not sure how to phrase this - not sure how to ask i need to see if i can do something with a guy, and you're the only guy i trust - not sure how to seperate himself from the system while still relying on it just enough so that billy can lean on his quota to convince himself to take marcus up on this. he sounds exhausted when he speaks again. ]
Just - anything I do here is going to be because I want to do it. Not because the city tells me I have to.
[ and he knows that's bullshit, knows that sounds like bullshit with lin's new contract hanging over his head like a guillotine, but it's how he feels. he wants to do what he wants to do. he doesn't want charity, doesn't want to be in anyone's debt, even though he's willing to help people out the same way. ]