This story was actually in my brain because of AmethystGrey's fic about limited kisses. I read it recently, and was thinking about these two characters. They need more love in general, and the story made me happy. But I was mulling it over and I realized that it probably wasn't Marus who fell first. It would have been Urban, who was surprised at Marus' initial dance with him. And then said something suggestive and got himself decked for it. And probably thought at some later point 'He has a really frickin' cute face when he's actually showing anger.' So, this began as a drabble about Urban trying to deal with being in love with Marus by teasing him. Because Urban is so very mature. ^_^
Anyway please enjoy! There may be a continuation if I can pull it off. This time, I hope the spacing is nicer....
Urban sat bolt upright among the nestled cushions and the sleeping dancers, practically gasping for breath. His heart rate was, at the moment, better suited for an avian than a serpiente. He drew in a deeper breath, trying to calm himself down. His throat was dry. Next to him, a fellow dancer stirred briefly before returning to her slumber. Urban ran a hand through his hair, feeling the sweat bead finely along the nape of his neck. The dream which had roused him flickered again through his mind, but he hastily pushed it away and lay back down amongst the pillows, only to find them equally damp with perspiration. Mentally cursing, he pulled himself back up and went to find a drink of water or juice.
Marus stood poised, hands above head, as if waiting for a note to sound. He wore light sleeping clothes, despite the chill of night air. One lone candle marked the passage of time. Then, following some silent, internal rhythm, he began to dance, his arms and torso oscillating and moving into the various positions of the dance. Several counts passed of this slow, swaying movement, until his legs tensed and he leapt into the air. His body turned and it seemed for a moment to hang there, until he landed once more and stumbled. Marus sighed and steadied himself. It had been almost perfect, but like always, he could not complete the full movement. He had been practicing for what seemed like eons, repeating the motions over and over again. But now he stood, exhausted and frustrated, unable to continue.
Urban bit his lower lip. This was not how getting a drink of water was supposed to go. He had nearly walked into the raven's practice, but managed to stop himself just in time. Now he rested against the wall, denying to himself that he was hiding from Marus. The drapery was merely conveniently in the way. He was spying on the raven, and that was completely different. It implied cunning and the opportunity for the upper hand in a future argument. He sipped at the cool juice as quietly as possible, concluding that, if anything, it was Marus who was hiding from him. Perhaps it was time to cause some trouble…
Marus wiped his forehead with the back of one slender hand, exhaling. He could use a rest, after all. A hand holding a vessel of some cold liquid appeared, and Marus thanked it quietly and drank. Mango juice, he noted. It was his favorite drink of the dancers' nest; how thoughtful. He choked on the second sip. Despite the fact that he was tired, the raven was still quite self-conscious. He swung around to find himself face to face with a certain python, and instantly blushed. Out of all the dancers in the nest, it had to be this one who had been watching him.
Urban smirked at the obvious chagrin on the other's face. "Not bad, but I can see why you keep practicing. Still, at this time of night?"
Marus thrust the cup back at Urban, struggling to keep his emotions under control. "I don't want to hear it. I just wanted some privacy, so kindly leave me be." Urban's sarcastic smile grew, ever so slightly.
"How cruel of you. I came only in friendship, and yet—"
"Thank you for the juice, Urban," Marus added through clenched teeth.
"If I did not know better, I would find your tone hurtful." Urban leaned forward and ruffled the raven's hair with a teasing look. Marus pulled away, his face going blank in the best avian fashion. Urban sighed in exasperation, letting his hand drop to his side. Why did it always have to end up like this? He reached for the juice. Marus' face was in shadow, but still seemed unreadable. Then the raven suddenly smiled and stepped forward, keeping the cup out of reach. "How long were you watching me? I can't imagine you staying still for any amount of time, even to torment me."
Urban grinned; their dance was back on. "Still so mean? I went to get a drink, and the next thing I know, you've stolen my juice," he replied with a wicked glint in his eye. Marus raised an eyebrow in equal teasing, and then tried to drink the rest as Urban reached once more in vain for the cup, protesting. The serpiente managed to knock some of the juice onto the drinker, but Marus just laughed lightly and stepped back, his body falling into a dancing pose. Urban had to admit to himself that the avian's skill was definitely improving. "Don't try to challenge me, friend," he shot back, his forward steps echoing the other's retreating ones.
Marus smirked at the obvious game of cat and mouse. Urban was always looking to provoke him, but never seemed to go further out of deference to Marus' avian customs—at least not since the first time they had danced, which had led to blows. He was trying to change that, along with Urban's level of respect for him and his kind. It wasn't easy, but—Marus felt the wall at his back, and remembered that for all its many charms, the Dancers' Nest did not have the scale of an avian building. And now Urban was decidedly close to him.
The other plucked the cup from Marus' grasp with a smile, but his hand brushed soft skin, and Marus felt himself shiver despite the recent joking mood. Internally, he cursed himself for the lapse of control, but the damage was done. Urban again stepped back in frustration, and cocked his head to the side. Marus tried once more to remedy his misstep, and jesting, asked, "So why were you up and about at this fine hour, anyway?"
Yet it had the wrong effect: Urban pulled further back and ran a shaking hand through his hair. Marus frowned, confused. "I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you…"
Urban smiled softly, and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, it wasn't something you said. I just had…unsettling dreams, I guess."
Marus paled. The attack, of course. Urban had only recently been cleared to return to the Dancer's Nest. "I'm sorry, I didn't…" Urban cut him off. "Marus, please don't worry. I'll be fine. We should get some sleep." Marus nodded silently, unable to face him, and walked away, towards the sleeping areas.
Urban grit his teeth in utter frustration once he was out of sight. His attempt had been, in his view, a fiasco. He mentally kicked himself for letting himself get too caught up in teasing Marus. Making the normally stoic raven smile and laugh was all in due course, but the temptation to go further had been too great.
It was hard enough to exhale, let alone think, when they got close enough to touch, close enough that Urban could feel his flickering body heat and the way his breath slid between his ever-so-slightly-parted lips.
Not to mention the way droplets of sweet, sticky juice rolled softly down his cheek and hung on his pouting lower lip.
Or the way that smile spread across his face, flirtatious yet somehow still shy, the perfect epitome of the avian noble-turned-dancer.
Or the way that his eyes…
Urban checked his thought process before it ran even more dangerously astray. It was pointless to fantasize; Marus was in love with Oliza, and at any rate, Urban's thoughtlessness had now put Marus on guard. The raven would probably avoid him for awhile, never mention this past encounter again, and most devastatingly of all, stop joking with him. Urban hadn't wanted to reveal the true reason for his nocturnal wandering—that being the recent spell of increasingly vivid dreams about Marus—but he also hadn't realized the perfectly logical, although incorrect, conclusion the other would arrive at. Urban felt like screaming in frustration. He had been so close at getting Marus to open up, but now all that was moot. His brain didn't seem like it would give up on the fantasizing, but there would probably be no eye contact for months. Perhaps it was time to start practicing using avian reserve, for Marus' sake. It felt like lying for the serpiente, which Urban especially hated, but the idea of losing any more of Marus' trust was worse than this falsehood.
In actuality, Urban had reached a faulty assumption of his own: Marus had the opposite intentions.