Author's Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews! Sorry for the long wait! I had trouble passing a course…
To El Nino1: You already had my respect as you are an amazing writer, and now, I can't believe you are reading this fic (and tolerating it… because, personally, I don't think I could stomach it). I don't like to label characters with a sexual orientation, but your last option was closest to my image of Ike.
To readers: This is Ike's first time being attracted to someone of Marth's gender, looks, and personality as a whole (hence, Ike has trouble pinpointing why he's so focused on Marth). Having a certain sexual orientation doesn't have anything to do with Ike's thoughts or reactions… this is just the personality that I gave Ike.
Warnings: Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. OOC-ness and lack of realism… for which I apologize in advance! If I screwed up the characters, please let me know how and why (or immediately hit the back button of your browser).
Pairing: Blatantly IkeMarth… or I try…
Disclaimer: I don't own Super Smash Brothers. Even worse, I'm Brawl-less for the break.
Summary: Teaching assistants, hours at the coffeehouse, graduate programs, undergraduate tutoring, medical students… no one ever though there was more to college than academics and work.
Edit: December 16, 2008. Thank you El Nino1 for your critique! They were an incredible help to cleaning up this chapter. I am indebted to you!
Mechanism
By SSBBSwords
Zelda's mood was atypically stormy when they met up on Friday.
"Then I find out that the asshole tore out the entire section from the book!" the medical student recounted with irritation, taking a heavy swallow of who-knows-what from her glass. "Just wait until I get my hands on his notes…"
So far, Marth mentally tallied two shots and a mixed drink for his friend, which wasn't too bad for an hour and a half's worth of time at a bar. Meaning to say it would take more for Zelda to become truly drunk. Not something anyone would want, by the way.
She tilted her head and all indignation seemed to recede for the moment. "What is Link doing?"
"As if I ever know." Nevertheless, Marth glanced over his shoulder in order to follow her line of sight. Surrounded by a crowd, the blond was across the room leaning over a pool table and setting up his next shot.
Zelda laughed fondly at the scene. "Well, the high ratio of females around him has to mean something."
Marth murmured monosyllabically in agreement, turning back to reach for his drink.
"You're quiet tonight," Zelda observed, interest evident in her slightly rosy features, and she waited, clearly expecting an explanation to her open-ended statement.
Tilting his head, Marth mindlessly twisted his cup in a slow semi-circle on the counter. "Am I?"
If it weren't for her drink pressed against her lips at that time, Zelda would have laughed at his vague (and completely vacant) answer. Leave it to Marth to keep personal issues concealed even with an old friend.
"Yes," she firmly replied, making it absolutely clear in her tone that she was not going to explain herself; there was no need, really. "What's going on? Do you need more ethanol to make this process less painful?"
Marth chuckled softly. Finally. Zelda tucked a long strand of hair triumphantly behind her ear and looked away from Marth as if the wall across the bar counter was much more interesting.
"Honestly," Marth began, finger playing with the rim of his glass, "I don't know why I feel so preoccupied. Especially now of all times."
"Classes sucking? Thesis writing failing? Little undergraduates getting on your nerves about your grading?" Zelda prompted, her eyes darting to the side in order to search Marth's expression.
Marth was starting to look a little confused. "A little of everything, but that's nothing new." And even when he admitted that his life was not perfect, he could not shake off the feeling that he still had not accounted for the real reason.
"You know, Marth," Link's voice suddenly cut through the background noise as an ever familiar hand reached out and relieved Marth of his neglected drink, "We have to change your bone structure or something, because I almost got my ass kicked in a game because some guy wanted into your pants." The blond easily drained the cup and signaled the bartender for another. "And since you are wearing relatively normal, not-in-any-way-special pants, it must not be your clothes."
While Zelda tried to hide a highly amused laugh into the confines of her glass, Marth pressed a palm against a now-pulsing area of his head. "You mentioned I was a man, right?"
"Why does that matter?" Link breezily replied, handing a twenty to the bartender in exchange for another round for the three of them.
Satisfied that Link had covered her next drink, Zelda turned to Marth and gestured toward the blond. "Is this the reason?"
As Link tried to look indignant while shooting alcohol, Marth breathed a tired sigh. "Strange, but no, even this is nothing new."
Ignoring the 'See?' from the blond, Zelda pursed her lips. "You don't even know why you're so preoccupied, Marth. That isn't healthy."
"I know why," Link supplied with a mischievous smile. "It has something to do with a missed call at seven in the morning."
Zelda raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Screening calls from a stalker, Marth?"
Marth eyed his new drink with very little interest, but opted to take a small sip and hide a grimace when the burn hit the back of his throat. "Oh, sure, if Link counts as a stalker."
Link simply grinned and leaned closer to his roommate. "I watch you through the window…"
"You sleep in the same room as me!" Marth corrected and pushed away the invasion of his private space.
"It's not enough!" The blond dramatically countered with a false tone of hurt.
Zelda laughed at their antics. "Obviously. God, I miss you guys—oh!" Her phone vibrated against the countertop. Eyes widening in surprise, Zelda flipped open the phone immediately, answering without missing a beat, "Hey, Sheik." She frowned into space and held her free hand over her other ear. "Say that again?" It seemed that the noise in the bar was finally considered too loud for this situation. After another minute of confusion, Zelda hung up with an unsettled expression.
"Sheik said something about not wanting to call an ambulance."
Link's bright eyes sparkled as he easily polished off Marth's drink (again). "Sounds exciting."
Zelda scowled and quickly gathered her belongings. "Ten dollars says I'll be doing impromptu sutures in thirty minutes."
"Ten dollars in… only dollars?" Link asked innocently as he and Marth closely followed her out the door.
When Sheik opened the apartment door, Zelda breezed in gracefully.
"Hi." She pulled her brother's scarf down slightly to kiss the other's cheek. "Where's the fire?"
"That room. Just check to make sure the comatose brat won't die." Sheik discreetly rubbed his face in response to the sign of affection. "The other guy's fine. Just drunk."
"Bad drunk?" Zelda asked in advance to prepare herself for the situation.
"No." Shiek was apathetic as usual. "Quite docile, actually. You'll like him."
"I hate drunk people," his older sister murmured to herself as she dutifully headed into the other room.
"I do too," Marth muttered, stumbling through the doorway with Link's arms locked around his neck and shoulders. "Sheik, get this off me…"
Link only laughed and tightened his handicapping grip. "This is not drunk!"
"No, you're always this annoying."
Sheik made no move to untangle the two, but when Link removed himself to go after Sheik himself, the two blonds ended up in a pile on the floor and Marth straightened himself out.
"Get off!" Sheik's low voice was muffled even more against Link's shoulder. "You reek of alcohol!"
Link snorted but sat up nonetheless, ignoring the fact that he continued to sit on the younger male. "Oh, so it's me now? All the empty bottles and cans scattered about doesn't contribute?"
Marth settled at the dining table. "This is a surprise, Sheik. You don't seem like the party type."
"I'm not." The senior propped himself up by his elbows, eyes narrowed at Link who stubbornly remained sitting on his hips. A battle of wills. However, an insistent shove at Link's shoulder had the graduate student reluctantly rising to his knees to join Marth at the table. Brushing himself off, Sheik pulled up a third chair and dropped neatly into it. "It was the roommate's party."
Link studied the post-party mess in the apartment and wistfully commented, "To be young again…"
"He's okay," a familiar voice informed, very much relieved. "Sheik, your sister's brilli—"
The preoccupation turned into an increasingly nagging feeling in Marth's head, and when he partially turned in his seat, his eyes locked on Ike's own pair in complete shock.
Ike almost dropped the half-full can of beer that he was holding. All thoughts disappeared and words evaded him. Jolting to realization that he was probably gaping like a goldfish, he shut his mouth and tried to work up some coherent greeting.
Completely missing the silent exchange, Sheik lazily leaned back in his chair and, with the ever-bored expression, gestured to Ike and nodded in Link and Marth's direction. "Guys, this is the roommate, Ike. Ike, these are my sister's friends, Link and Marth."
"We've met." Link's playful demeanor had changed into something much more aloof, the subtle shift in tone and body language inwardly surprising both Sheik and Marth. "Small world."
"I… uhm…" Ike swallowed, only to realize his mouth had gone dry. He didn't know if it was because the one person he had personally invited actually was here in his apartment (even if by accident) or if it was the warning look from the older blond or the fact that he was cemented in his spot and did not know how to escape.
"Any day now, Ike." Zelda's authoritative voice carried from the bedroom with a hint of impatience.
"Electrolytes! Right!" The junior blurted, knowing he could pass off the reddening of his face to the large amounts of alcohol that he had consumed just hours ago. "Sheik…"
"Gatorade's in the upper right cabinet," the impassive male informed evenly.
As Ike clumsily grabbed a couple of bottles before retreating into his bedroom, Link breathed out an irritated sigh. "Marth." He jostled his frozen roommate. "You okay?"
Startled, Marth turned back from the uncomfortable, twisted position in his seat. "Yeah… yes, I'm fine." He stopped to re-think his answer. Not false. Why wouldn't he be fine?
Sheik raised an eyebrow at his sister's friends. This was weirder than usual, but it wasn't his business, so he continued like nothing had happened. "Want a drink?"
"You still have some left?" Marth asked, rather surprised.
"What do you have?" Link simultaneously asked, looking all too enthusiastic for a distraction from what (who) was in the other room. The way that undergraduate acted around Marth really bothered him. Really. And it was becoming a constant irritant.
A moment later just as Link was popping open a bottle of beer (and one for Marth), Zelda walked out with a satisfied smile. "It's fortunate that the boy was asleep, not unconscious. The latter would have warranted a trip to the emergency room."
"That's good," Marth supported before pressing his lips against the rim of the bottle and, for once, not perturbed by the nasty taste going down his throat.
Wordlessly, Sheik handed his sister a bottle and she accepted it gratefully. He didn't comment on how it suddenly seemed that his role models had all turned into alcoholics.
"I told your roommate to monitor his friend's breathing and position for the rest of the night, but it seems he's been drinking for a while…"
"More than a dozen," Sheik supplied, "marked on his forearm."
Link let out a short whistle, half impressed and half jealous of the number. Zelda gave her blond friend a disapproving look. "Link, don't even think about it. The guy's big."
Marth only looked a little more flushed as he finished the bottle in record time. Why, he didn't know. Beer was vile stuff. "I should go wish him a happy birthday. Since I'm here." He ignored the look that his roommate threw in his direction.
"Always the thoughtful one." Zelda nodded in approval, saying nothing more as she drank to a hopefully calm rest of the night with her friends and brother.
Marth's knock was interrupted with the crushing of aluminum. Concerned, Marth pushed open the door and watched the other neatly toss the flattened can into a small recycling bin.
"Hi." Marth's smile slipped right off when Ike jerked and wobbled nearly off the chair. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" He backed up and was going to shut the door when it was yanked open, almost taking his arm with it if he hadn't let go.
"It's okay," Ike hurriedly reassured him, "Uh… come in!"
The smell of alcohol on Ike was a little subtler than Marth had expected for someone who supposedly had so much to drink. He glanced at the other's arm to see if it was true.
Ike, who was again drawn into the habit of staring at Marth, could easily trace the other's visual trajectory and held up his arm with a smile, his manner not boastful but still like he was showcasing to impress. Not that he was trying to impress with something like this. "You want to be my twenty-first?"
Marth stared at the lines, and although Ike was unwavering, he drew the other's arm closer to examine the details of the pen marks. Some lines were in a different type of ink or color, some even obviously done by a different writer…
Regardless, there were actually twenty lines. Messy, but there. Marth let go and Ike responded by tucking his marked arm into his pocket with some sense of embarrassment.
"Twenty-first…?" Marth shook his head in disbelief. "How are you even standing up right now?"
"Huge meal, high tolerance, loads of water, and many hours," Ike answered honestly. "Oh, and being tall." As to emphasize this, he reached out as to lace his hand through the other's hair but with a pause, ended up grazing the top of Marth's head in a fleeting brush.
Marth's hand immediately went to the exact spot to smooth any disturbances. "I see." Tall was most likely Ike's euphemism for being densely packed due to a noticeably built body. "Well, I came to wish you a happy birth—"
"I can't believe you came," Ike interrupted, causing Marth to pause, but the junior continued with a surprisingly amount of calm fluidity, "I lied and told everyone I hit twenty-one so they would leave."
"Ike…" Marth took a step back when the taller student moved closer. Ike had to be drunk. Had to. If not, Marth himself was feeling some effects of the alcohol because he felt overly warm.
"I wanted you to be twenty-one," Ike finally explained. "You don't mind, do you? I mean… even if you're underaged—"
Marth cut him off right there. "It's fine." The gnawing feeling in his stomach returned. Again, Marth couldn't pinpoint the cause of it, and decided to ignore it when the other went to open a new bottle on his desk.
"You sure it's okay?" Ike opened a rectangle box and pulled out two shot glasses. "I don't want to pressure you."
He looked so apprehensive that Marth laughed softly and brushed aside his lengthy bangs by habit. "I've been drinking for years. Stop worrying."
Ike smiled and handed him a filled shot glass. "Courtesy of Sheik."
"Really."
The surprise must have been evident in his expression, because Ike nonchalantly replied as their glasses clinked against each other, "I was as pleasantly surprised as you are."
"Happy twenty-first, Ike."
As they knocked back their shots, Marth was mentally thanking Sheik for choosing such a smooth alcohol.
"You made it happy."
And with the level of seriousness in the other's eyes and the sincerity of the statement (subconscious or not), it dawned on Marth that Link was probably right.
Author's Notes: Reviews and comments are very much loved. Thank you!
