All Is Hell That Ends With ‘Fair’(Closed ~ One-on-One ~ Rated a possible M)

"Instruments are a lot of work. There's constant practice to keep yourself up to shape with it all and you have to learn keys and signatures and the correct placement of hands and body. Theres the breath too, and taking care of your instrument is tough. I bought a special case for mine to keep the air pressure and temperature changes from harming it. New strings are expensive though, and resealing it is even more expensive. I save up as much as I can to take care of my violin. It's one of my only joys in this life. I have three: You, my violin, and fire." Marcus explained, rubbing his thumb over the back of Cyrus's hand.
"I do really love playing though even if I'm embarrassed sometimes by it."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Cyrus said, "I mean, I'm sure it's hard to play in front of people, but the hobby itself- it's super cool, honestly."
He laughed softly.
"You look so happy talking about it, too, so that's a plus."
He moved one hand from the table so he could check the time, and he frowned a bit, but shifted his attention back to Marcus. No need to focus on anything else until it was time.

"Its embarrassing… too feminine for a male to be doing. Or so my father told me." Marcus took a moment, his eyebrows knitting together. Now that he thought about it, his father's words didn't make much sense. Was it bad for him to be more feminine? Was the violin even feminine? Not at all. It didn't make sense to him.
"Ah, scratch that. I love playing it and talking about it. It makes me happy."
He watched Cyrus carefully, biting his lip.
"Want to head back to the apartment?"

"Ehhh, I've never cared much for gender and gender roles anyway," Cyrus said, "I mean, society made them up, didn't they? I took after my mom's cooking. It doesn't make me any more feminine or masculine either."
He fidgeted a little bit.
"Actually, Nina's almost at our meeting spot. It's just a couple of blocks down from here. I won't have time to come back until after," he admitted, "I wish I could stay with you longer. I'm still a bit nervous."

Marcus nodded curtly. "They did make them up. So I can do what I want, huh?" He cracked a small smile, but offered it as a comforting action for Cyrus. Marcus could tell he was really nervous.
"It'll be alright, I promise. I'll be at the apartment, waiting for you to come back, okay? After we can just chill, how's that sound?"

"Yeah," Cyrus agreed, "That sounds good."
He offered a smile.
"Well, I'm already in this mess, so I have to push through now, right? I mean, as long as she doesn't take me out back and kill me- but then again, that's why we're meeting in the public eye."
He was trying to reassure Marcus and himself, but his words sounded beyond uncertain.

Marcus shifted uneasily, his eyes turning down to the table they sat at.
He wasn't exactly reassured, he still worried that something was going to happen. He didn't want to lose Cyrus. He was one of the only people who saw Marcus as who he was and not just a fuck toy to use and get rid of.
"Please be safe, okay? I don't want… I can't live without you, Cy. I'm scared to lose you."

Cyrus nodded. "I'll be careful. I promise. I'm scared to leave you."
He got up from his seat.
"And I'll contact you as soon as I'm done, okay? I'll keep you updated so you're not left worrying that something happened to me."

Marcus stood as Cyrus did, smiling softly at him. “Thank you, Cy. I love you, come home safe, okay?” He moved to hug Cyrus tightly, pressing his face into his chest. “Be safe.”

Cyrus pressed himself closer and kissed Marcus on top of the head.
"I will."
With that, he was on the move to meet up with his sister.

Nina was kneeling by the pond when Cyrus first saw her. She was watching the turtles bob their heads above the water.
"Ah, Cyrus," she said, without turning around.
"Nina," he acknowledged.
"You haven't been home much these past few days, huh? What've you been up to? Father's practically throwing a fit, gave you that assignment…"
"I've been staying with a friend," Cyrus lied, "Closer to my assignment."
Nina shrugged. "Oh, okay. I suppose it's not really my business anyhow. What did you want? It's rare for you to come for me for help."
Cyrus opened his mouth to speak, and at first, he couldn't get the words out.
"I-it's about Father, actually," he said, his voice breaking.
Nina raised her eyebrow. "Now you've piqued my interest."
"And- and how his reign of terror needs to end."
Nina's hazel eyes widened in shock. It was rare to see her so visibly stunned.
"After so long, why now? I've been waiting for the opportunity to take this gang into my own hands, since he's garbage at running things and acts so rashly all the time, especially because of you. What made you snap?"
"The assignment." Cyrus scratched at his arm. "Nina, I want him gone. I'll do it myself so you don't have to get your hands dirty. And in return, you can kick me out. I don't want to be here. You don't want me here."
Nina waved a hand. "Done. Old man has been spouting nothing but bullshit lately. I want my turn. I want you out. But you know what that means, right? No calling the authorities, or we'll kill you."
"I know what that means. I also have one more request. Please cancel my latest mission."
"I don't even care enough about getting it done," Nina replied, "You're all too easy to please, brother."

As Cyrus worked it out with his sister, Marcus made his way to the gang’s hideout, a nice little house in the middle of the city, a place that felt unusually safe for having a den of gang members.
He walked up the steps to the door, noting the flowerpots still planted there. He took care of them.
As far as the neighbors were concerned, a noisy group of college and highschool boys owned the place, inviting their hooligan friends over every now and then for a small bit of drinking and fun.
They didn’t know that the basement was renovated to be a torture chamber for unfaithful gang members and enemies alike. They didn’t know Marx had his room soundproofed so that no one could hear the agonized and pleasured screams that he drew out from his sexual partners.
They didn’t know how cruel Marx was…
It made Marcus sick to his stomach.
But he entered the house nonetheless, glancing around at everyone either lazing about on their phones or passed out from a night and morning of drinking and drug use.
Thomas was the one that greeted him first, setting down the book he had been reading and grinning at Marcus.
“Long time no see, Light. How are you?” He asked softly, looking Marcus up and down for signs of harm.
“Screwed for sure but well. Marx might keep me down there for a bit, so don’t be surprised if he drags my ass back here.” He said, trying to make it sound like a joke but failing to do so. Thomas gave him a concerned look.
“But uh, anyways, mind getting me my violin? I need it. I have another place I’m going to go play at, somewhere without drunkards…” Marcus scowled at the thought. He couldn’t have some dumbass drunk off his ass break his violin. It was his precious treasure, something that needed to be Protected at all costs.
Thomas only nodded and disappeared into his room before emerging with the large, thick case that held the beautiful instrument. “Here, now you should quickly, Marx is out on a mission and shouldn’t be back for another hour but he might be back early. I’d rather not watch you get the snot beat out of you before he drags you into that hellhole of a room he has.” Thomas patted Marcus’s arm as he handed over the case, shooing the other male away quickly.
“Thank you,” was all Marcus managed to get out before he was shoved out the door and down the stairs.

Cyrus shifted his stance a bit. “Nina, how does tomorrow night sound?”
She tilted her head. “Perfect. We should act quickly, yeah? I’ll be out of the house, and I’ll tell everyone you two were drunk off your asses and got violent- and that I kicked you out. Well, no need to worry yourself over further details. You seem too desperate to care.”
Cyrus nodded. “I don’t really care, as long as I get what I want.”
“Good, good. You know, I almost forgot how cunning you can be. Most people wouldn’t come to someone so close to Father in order to topple him.”
Cyrus scratched the back of his neck. “It was a bit of a risk, but I think I had enough insight. Turns out I was right. Unless you turn on me.”
“Look, I could. But I’m not. We have a goal with something in common for once. And now that you’ve revealed your intent, it’s too late to take it back. So you might as well kill him.”
Cyrus frowned. “I can’t tell whether you’re threatening me or not, but yeah. Guess it’s too late. Anything else you want to work out while we’re here?”
“No, I think that’ll be all,” Nina replied.
Cyrus said his goodbyes and left, his hands shoved into his pockets.
He fumbled for his phone.
I’m done. I think things went well.

Marcus held the instrument close, hugging it to his chest. He trotted down the street happily, slinging the straps over his shoulders. He pulled his phone from his pocket as he received a text message, smiling at the contact name.
Good! I'll be at the apartment, just grabbed my violin.

It took him only a few minutes to return to their apartment, as he had hopped onto the bus systems instead of walking. He didn't want Cyrus to return to an empty apartment. He'd much rather be there when Cyrus returned home.
Which he managed to do, setting the violin down against the wall before making his way to the couch, flopping down on it and sighing happily.

Cyrus walked the streets a bit before it started becoming dark out.
It was maybe half an hour after he sent the text that he made it back. He knocked on the apartment door gently, but loud enough that Marcus should be able to hear.

Marcus jumped at the sound, freezing in place. He waited for a moment until he realized that he practically lived with Cyrus now and there wasn’t Marx anyone to open the door.
Marcus jumped up and hurried to open the apartment door, smiling at the sight of Cyrus. He tugged the other male into the apartment and immediately looked him over for any wounds or bruises.
“How did it all go? Are you okay?”

"Yeah, actually. I'm fine," Cyrus replied, "I think it went well. I did a pretty good job of reading the situation, thank god."
He took off his jacket.
"So tomorrow night," he said, "That's when. Things are moving fast…"

Marcus made sure the door shut behind them, following Cyrus into the apartment and tilting his head.
“Tomorrow night…” he murmured, shivering. “I’ll get everything planned then…” Marcus couldn’t kill Marx himself. He just couldn’t do it. The male terrified him too much.
So he would hire someone to do it… hopefully they would do a decent job at it and Marcus wouldn’t be caught.

"Well, that should hold anyone off from targeting him for a few days," Cyrus said, referring to Pollux, "Let's see how it goes before further action, but you can continue to plan in your head at least."

Marcus agreed silently. Cyrus had a point. There really wasn't much to do until Cyrus carried out his part first. Then they could sit back and decide what to do.
Marcus could always have Marx arrested for sexual abuse and rape… but that would mean the law would have to be involved and that there would be a long and strenuous court battle that would result in a dead Marcus if Marx was proven not guilty…
That was too iffy, too messy. Marx had to leave once and for all. If he didn't disappear, Marcus wouldn't be free ever.

"You doing okay, love? I know you were worried about me out there," Cyrus said, touching Marcus' arm gently.

Marcus stole away the hand that touched his arm, lacing his fingers with Cyrus’s. He didn’t exactly want to admit all of his fears, but Cyrus already knew about his worries around Nina, so he would focus there. One fear resolved was better than none resolved.
“I’m scared is all, Cy. I feel… finally happy and loved and in love, but maybe it’s selfish of me to want to keep it all… to want to never let this go. I don’t want to lose you or these feelings.”

"That's completely normal and not selfish at all," Cyrus replied, "In fact, a lot of people get to take this stuff for granted. I'm afraid of losing you already, and I shouldn't have to be. Nobody else has to be. Most people get to love freely, more or less, and most people aren't coerced into doing a bunch of terrible things they don't want. So no, you're not selfish for wanting a happy, stable relationship like normal people get."

He pressed a gentle kiss to Cyrus's lips before he wrapped his arms around the other, sighing deeply. "Can we be at least a little bit like a normal couple after this is all over?" He asked, his voice hushed to a near whisper. "Pretend we aren't involved in gangs and cults and awful things?"
At this point Marcus was starting to be childish about it all but he just couldn't find any other way to release the pent up emotions in his body.

"That's all I want," Cyrus murmured, "I don't want any of this gang business anymore. I just want love and life and…"
He teared up a little at the thought.
"You think we can get that?"

(Sorry for the long wait, we went up into the mountains for a day.)

“I think we can.” Marcus murmured in reply, tugging Cyrus towards the couch.
He offered a weak smile, letting those green eyes of his flutter shut for a moment.
“Let’s cuddle for a little bit, regain our minds.”

(It's all good! I might be on and off the next few weeks, since I'm starting a job and also going back to school soon. But I'll be here. You can always bump the rp if you think I may have forgotten.)
"Yeah, that'd be nice," Cyrus murmured, joining Marcus and wrapping his arms around him.
He frowned.
"I know things seem like they might be turning out okay now, but I'm still worried that something might go wrong."

(Thank you so much for telling me! I might be a bit spotty for the same reasons or maybe I’ll be on even more XD XD who knows!)

“I’m terrified that it will all end up going bad…” he admitted, pressing his forehead against the other’s. “Should we have a backup plan…?” Marcus glanced down at his arms, where his self-harm scars and wounds were still present.
His backup plan wasn’t a good one.
He should get another…

(lmao I feel that. The question of: will I be on less bc I'm actually doing my stuff, or will I be on more bc I'm avoiding doing my stuff?)
"What kind of backup plan?" Cyrus asked softly, "If things go badly enough, I worry we won't even have wiggle room for that. Yet, I'd like to hear it."
He pressed his palm against the back of Marcus' head.

(Amen to that!!! Especially with most of my classes now being Online ahahah)

“Anything…” Marcus whispered, squeezing his eyes shut as his gut turned uncomfortably.
“I don’t have any other options but suicide if this all goes downhill…”

(Oof we're still going back in person for school. But most of my actual work is online/over the phone.)
Cyrus fought back the urge to yell at Marcus. He wasn't angry. Just hurt. Very hurt. He rubbed his face, trying to think of a good answer to that.
"Marcus… you can't…" he choked, "Please promise me, no matter how bad it gets… Anything but that…"
He was clearly at a loss for proper words to explain himself.