Only time may tell
By Night Owl Ophelia
Disclaimer - Shaman King is not mine. Courtesy of Hiroyuki Takei and Shonen Jump
"Shut that thing off or I'll do it myself."
". . . Why don't you?"
"Oh . . . you don't want me to."
Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and stared at the noisy alarm clock on the night table. It was given as a "wedding" present and the last thing he wanted was for his mate to destroy it.
Picking up the tiny mechanism, he was already lost in a sea of memory. Vibrating in his hand, the clock shaped like a loving couple kissing in the sunset took him back to four whole years ago. On his "wedding" day, everyone who wanted to "celebrate" was present. It wouldn't have been much of anything if his friends weren't present. Hardly Any one besides attended. Save his "husband's"
It was very short, very simple and to the point. He had barely uttered "yes" the previous night and was whisked down the isle the very next morning, if you can call the crevice midst the tiny church and isle.
Through memory he remembered his husband's painful stronghold around his waist the entire evening. There was no escape, and nothing said to him escaped his new lover's ears. It was his way, he realized later, of letting me know I really am his forever.
"Lyserg,"
A cold hand to his back interrupted his flow of memory. The night had been cold.
"Shut that thing off."
Slowly, Lyserg twisted the dial in the back of the clock and was now fully awake thanks to his lover's ice cold fingers. How were they that cold? The night was cold. He told himself.
"I'm replacing that ugly thing today . . . remind me."
"No. . . It was-"
"A gift? Lyserg we've been through this, and I'm either throwing it out, or you can keep it in your study, Out of my ears, and out of my way, understood?"
They had been through this before, and Lyserg had always said, Yes sir, no sir, or more than once tried to butter him up and entice him with his body, but neither of those worked anymore. Nothing he ever thought worked anymore. He couldn't even remember the first time it did.
And now, after four plus years, he was tired.
"No."
"What?"
"I don't understand. . . Honey you can't get another clock." Lyserg flinched as his lover raised an eyebrow.
"I can't?"
"Listen. . ." Damn it! I said honey! It's cause I called him honey! "Dar-"
"No, I said it's final. Now are you going to start an argument over something as simple as a clock? I shall replace it Lyserg, and you'll find the new tune more relaxing."
Now it was Lyserg's time to raise an eyebrow. "Honey, a relaxing tune is not going to wake you up. That's what alarm clocks are for." No sooner than he said alarm did his husband snatch him round' the waist, lay him down on their bed, and straddle him between his knees. His eyes glared down from above and a sudden wave of helplessness swept over Lyserg. A wave that passed so many times before.
"Marco… no-"
"Listen," he realized for the first time that his arms were being held down painfully by the wrists and his husbands grip was tightening with each word that escaped his mouth. "There will be no more talk of this clock from you, Lyserg." His eyes narrowed menacingly. ". . . Or I swear on this months rent I'll skip work and keep you busy all day."
A small smile split Lyserg's face as he realized he was completely naked except for his boxers,
"Yes sir."
Breakfast that morning was simple, a slice of toast with butter, and a cup off tea made from the same bag left to dry from yesterday. Only because Marco was obsessed with making food bought for the month, really lasting a month, and that means visitors were usually affected as well.
"You wanted a can of soda? Sure, but only one!" Chicken wings, Lyserg! Count out five each!" And so on. Lyserg could have easily used an entire tea bag one day at a time and kept it secret from his husband. That is if he had not been obsessed enough to count every single tea bag every single day.
"I just knew you'd try this Lyserg." He had said when he had stopped counting for a few days, "I just thought I could trust you to listen on your own, but no." All Lyserg could do was stand there, pout and roll his eyes. He had already used the tea party excuse once. It only worked once because soon Marco realized he didn't like parties.
So all he could ever really do was endure his husband's endless lectures and continuously say "Yes sir." And "No sir." And "I'm sorry, it won't happen again." And occasionally end up taking him to bed just to get him to feel better about the whole thing. And what's funny was that that often put him in a good mood. And when Marco was in a good mood, there was almost no need for him to pay attention to Lyserg's behavior because he'd be too busy doing something he liked (That didn't involve Lyserg at all) and when Marco didn't pay any attention to Lyserg, he was free to use as many tea bags (and other foods) as he wanted.
But on this particular day, and at this particular time, Lyserg made a mistake. And did not realize until his lover called from the kitchen where he had just set the table.
"Lyserg, what is this?"
At that moment in time, as Lyserg decided at the last minute he'd fold bed sheets and pack the linen closet before eating, not one, but two fresh slices of toast popped out of the toaster oven, and Marco had entered the kitchen just In time to witness this. Lyserg leaned against the door frame and watched him tower over the toaster as if daring it to spit anything else. "It's Breakfast Marco." He said.
":Don't get smart with me Lyserg." Marco warned, turning to face him. "Explain."
"Explain what, what's for breakfast? Toast and – "
"Humph."
"Okay, so those two slices are both for you, Marco. I'm only going to have one. Happy?" Marco removed the bread from the toaster and placed one of the slices back into the bread box.
"Oh come on-"
"Lyserg, we have already been through this!"
"Damn it Marco! Can't you eat something for once? You're starving for no reason!"
Lyserg thought for a moment as his husband did not respond and buttered the toast as if it were a flimsy cracker. He wouldn't argue if he didn't want much butter, but he knew Marco would eat more if he weren't so up tight about almost everything.
"Marco If you do not eat, I. . . "He slowly crept up behind his lover and would have put his arms around him if he had not turned around at that time. But at least he didn't have to stop talking. But just then he forgot what he was going to say and just felt stupid.
"I am eating Lyserg." Marco sniffed. "And the food situation in this house-"
"Marco there is no food situation!" Once again his lover ignored him and sat down at the breakfast table to eat. "Listen to me! This is because I don't have a job, is it?" You earn enough to support us both, and I'm almost finished with my studies I can get a job and-"
"No, Lyserg." Marco stood up and placed his hands on Lyserg's shoulders. "No more arguments out of you. Sit down and eat." But Lyserg would not comply.
"We don't even have any kids! It's just us Marco, just-"And that was when the other man became rigid and Lyserg felt his pulse falter. "Marco?"
He was pulled into a tight hug and released suddenly.
"I'm late, call me later."
"Marco you didn't even finish your tea. . ." But he was already out the door and in the drive way. And once again, all Lyserg could do was stand there. Stand there and watch him drive off before the school buses could interfere with his time and stand there and watch mothers put their kids on these buses, and watch the children wave and yell until out of site with his husband in the lead.
