Title: Ten Across
Author: Kait Sudol (rookie2k)
Summary: Crosswords and sonnets serve as foreplay.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Jonathan Larson's estate can assume full ownership. Am quite fond of this pairing, however. If anyone tries to sue me, all they'll get is an Invader Zim lunchbox filled with Obi-Wan figures and a movie photo of Moulin Rouge.
Rating: PG-13 for language and implied sex.

Ten Across


"What's a twelve letter word for defamation?"

"Vilification." Mark looked over his glasses and smirked at his lover.

"Gorgeous and smart. I really lucked out, didn't I?" There was a derisive snort as Mark filled in the boxes of his crossword puzzle with his scrunched, block lettered scrawl.

"S'what happens when you hang out with Collins for too long. Don't blame me. I'll be quoting Shakespeare next." Mark laughed softly, filling in 'catharsis' from the C in 'vilification' and connecting it to the middle of 'existentialist' with a satisfied smirk.

"I like Shakespeare. I was always fond of the fellow. 'Deny thy father and refuse thy name' and all that shit."

"If I could write the beauty of your eyes / And in fresh numbers number all your graces, / The age to come would say 'This poet lies; / Such heavenly touches ne’er touched earthly faces.'" Mark readjusted the crossword puzzle to hide his faint blush. Not many people had ever serenaded him with the Bard before and listening to those lovely syllables he could suddenly understand what was so romantic about this man's work.

"Why can't you write like that?" he asked softly, getting a warm smile in return. With a flourish, he put his crossword puzzle down.
"Well, if you're so keen on me, maybe you could explain why it is that I'm lying half-naked in bed, beautiful and needy but tragically alone."

A short sarcastic laugh followed by, "In a moment. I just have to finish this up."

"Beeennnnnny!" Mark whined. "If you don't get your ass in here in the next five minutes I think we're both going to have to go to bed unfulfilled." Another laugh and Benny placed his notebook on the desk and trudged over to the bed.

"Fine, fine. Work your wiles on me, Mr. Cohen. We'll see who's still employed tomorrow morning." He pulled off his t-shirt and slid between the sheets.

"Heh. Employed he said. Well, Mr. Coffin, I doubt you'll be able to find another devastatingly loyal, handsome, and talented filmmaker willing to live and work in this shithole to make your brutal, bohemian screenplays take shape. And whose willing to be paid solely with sex." He quirked an eyebrow at Benny and propped himself up on one elbow, smirking with his head cocked so that his hair fell into his eyes. He was beautiful, Benny would give him that much.

"Well, maybe it's time you take a pay cut," he shot back to the filmmaker with an equally catty smirk. He flicked Mark's nose and moved to get out of bed. Mark laughed and pulled him back by the arm.

"I haven't quit yet, Benny." Benny's smirk slid from catty to seductive and he crawled towards Mark, shutting off the bedside lamp as he did so.

"Let's see that you don't, love..."

-end-

Notes: Originally supposed to be a drabble in which a hospital-bound Roger helps Mark with a crossword puzzle, this took on a life of it's own. It fits nicely into my "Alcoholic" timeline, however. Of course, I'm still working on that fic, but ::shrugs:: You can read this without knowing anything about that. Obviously, because, uh, you just did.
Also, heh, some of the words are used in Clerks, purely because my brother FINALLY got around to looking up the meanings and ran up here to recite them to me while I was working on this.

I crave feedback.