Disclaimer: I do not own Super Smash Brothers: Brawl or any of the characters, and this piece of fanfiction is for the sole purpose of entertainment.
Dedication: To SSBBSwords/LilPurplFlwr.
Pairing: IkeMarth
Genre: romance
Part: 9/12
Rating: PG-13 (subject to change)
Words: 1041
Warnings: AU, homosexuality, language, un-beta'd
A/N: Because SSBBSwords proclaimed that "I [want] to see Marth completely disturbed in a gay club and require Ike to come riding in on that stallion from the vet clinic." Thanks for your input, or else I would have been stuck and re-writing this with different ideas all night.
Marth's Twelve Days of Christmas
Part 9: Nine Ladies Dancing
Over the years, Marth found himself with a significant number of female friends. It wasn't so much that he sought out friends of the fairer sex, but that he just seemed to connect to their personalities better as individuals. Ike, whose close friends all happened to be male, took some fun in teasing him about his feminine entourage (but don't you ever dare call Peach a fag hag, or you will quickly learn just how dangerous those hips are).
So that is how he sometimes found himself being pressured by three very strong-willed, independent ladies into activities that he found far from enjoyable. Like dancing at a gay bar.
Marth was about as far removed from the "gay scene" as you could possibly get. He wasn't flamboyant, he didn't attend drag competitions, he didn't make an effort to support small businesses with known homosexual proprietors—hell, he didn't even attend pride events (not that he was ashamed, or anything; he just had no interest in being associated with such audacious behavior). It just wasn't in his personality. He was guilty of falling into the reclusive artist stereotype more than anything else. Or perhaps just being an introvert. His idea of a perfect night really was curling up on the couch alone with some tea and a good book.
It came to follow, then, that he was extremely uncomfortable in his current situation: pressed physically flush against multiple bodies (one belonging to a complete stranger), drowning in painfully loud music, and sweating a ridiculous amount for a mid-December night.
"This sucks!" he complained as he was jostled from side to side. Did someone just grab his ass?
Peach had called him earlier that night, demanding that he free his schedule between the hours of 10 PM and 2 AM. He had balked and told her that for three quarters of that time frame, he had been planning on sleeping, thank you very much. The peppy young woman then informed him that Samus just got dumped a week before Christmas, and it was their duty as her friends to take her out to forget her sorrows—lest, of course, he prefer that she sob over pints of Ben & Jerry's all night.
Marth had, at the time, reluctantly agreed to go. Apparently, the four years since his last clubbing experience (also at the behest of Peach) had dampened the awfulness in his memory, or else he would have opted to provide Samus with all the ice cream she could want instead. But here he was, stuck in the middle of a crowded dance floor, and scowling in everyone's general direction. He was far too old for this nonsense.
In reply to his whining, Zelda laughed as she looped her arms around his neck, leaning in close so he could hear her likewise yelled words. "Lighten up, Marth!" The athletic woman bounced along to the beat of the obnoxious song blasting through the myriad overhead speakers. "Just have some fun!" How on earth could this be considered music? There wasn't even an identifiable time signature to this electronic noise.
As if to reiterate the point (or perhaps annoy him further), he felt a second pair of arms wind around his torso as breasts pressed against his back, and Samus' voice entered his other ear. "Aww, missing Ike, baby?"
Marth rolled his eyes as he was essentially sandwiched between two scantily-clad and very attractive women, what he imagined was the wet dream of many a straight man. He felt the urge to sullenly snap that yes, he'd much rather be in bed at home with his spouse, when he bit his tongue out of respect. Samus had looked miserable when they picked her up earlier; it had taken three drinks and two hours for the blonde to begin to smile again, and he wasn't about to ruin their efforts.
So instead he retorted, "You're not exactly my type, Samus." While the woman behind him couldn't hear the words, Zelda giggled next to his shoulder.
Thankfully, Peach pulled Samus away from him a moment later and he was allowed a little room to breathe. This dance floor was positively suffocating, and he wasn't even claustrophobic. Feeling a sudden need for some fresh (if somewhat frozen) air, he started pulling away from the dancing brunette in front of him.
"I'm going for some air!" He had to yell his plans twice before Zelda could understand him over the music. Once she nodded back in understanding, he started pushing his way through the crowd, which was no small task considering everyone's wild movements. After getting elbowed once, his foot stepped on twice, and a drink spilled on his shirt (just fantastic), he finally made his way to the smoking patio of the bar. He braced himself as he stepped through the doors and out into the cold, the sudden temperature change causing a shiver to inadvertently overtake his whole body.
As he sagged against the railing, he contemplated waking his husband up and begging him to bail him from his current situations. He held his phone between his frozen fingers, staring at the texting program for a while in indecision before he started entering the words.
I miss you.
Marth looked at the message, hoping for an instant reply. Then he eyed the time in the upper right corner and realized that it was pushing 1 AM, and Ike would definitely be asleep right now (as would any sane person). So it surprised him to feel his phone vibrate just as he was about to slip it back into his pocket.
Me too. Come home soon.
Ike's reply caused a smile to spread across his lips. In that moment, he lost his internal battle of will and decided to ask for a rescue mission.
Come pick me up?
It took but a moment for Ike's text to appear on his screen.
Fat chance, babe.
Marth resumed his earlier scowling just as Peach found where he had gone off to hide (wasn't she supposed to be dancing with Samus?) and dragged him back inside to the club's main floor. Marth resolved that Ike was getting the cold shoulder for the next week in retribution. Some white knight he married.
-tbc-
A/N: Bonus fun! The following passage is courtesy of SSBBSwords as she imagined how Marth might possibly be "saved" by Ike from his clubbing distress.
Marth: Ike, I need a favor.
Ike: Anything.
Marth: Come save me.
Ike: I thought you'd never ask.
Three minutes later…
Marth: WTF?
Ike: I was waiting outside for your distress call.
Marth: …
Ike: I love you. Let's do gay things on this dance floor.
Marth: WTF?!
(Sorry that didn't happen, SSBBSwords. But I laughed my ass off all the same!)
