Daffodils

Daffodils

Posted: March 16, 2007
Title: Daffodils
Author: Decadence and Sileya
Type: RPS
Characters: Craig/Mark
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: We don’t know them, and we don’t claim to. We just like their faces and names.
Beta: sileya

Summary: Reaching the window, he laid his daily offering on the white-washed wood. A lovely yellow daffodil, fresh from one of the many beds along the street. It was still kissed with dew, in fact.

*****

Craig Parker stepped through the front gate, making sure to hold it when it threatened to squeak. That squeaky gate would give him away, yet. Padding along the paved front walk and stepping nimbly to the kitchen window sill, he glanced from side to side to make sure nobody was watching.

Good thing his neighbor hadn’t found that perfect dog just yet.

Reaching the window, he laid his daily offering on the white-washed wood. A lovely yellow daffodil, fresh from one of the many beds along the street. It was still kissed with dew, in fact.

He blushed as he realized that being kissed with dew was the closest he’d come to being kissed in all of the years he’d lived next door to Mark Ferguson.

Yawning and stretching in place in bed, Mark blinked his eyes open with a start and glanced at the clock. 7 a.m. - surely early enough to catch his secret admirer! He bounded out of bed and loped down the stairs in his soft cotton boxers - and nothing else - stumbling into the kitchen and turning the corner of the breakfast nook to look out the window.

Thanking God for the armoire that stood to the side (with VERY reflective glass doors that happened to show Mark coming), Craig sped to the corner of the house closest to his own house, diving behind the white fence at just the last moment. He could hear a slight rap, as if someone had hit something against the window pane, and then the faint rub of wood as the window was lifted. He held his breath, waiting to see if he’d been found out.

Swearing under his breath and waving his hand after rapping his knuckle painfully on the glass, Mark sighed and smiled at the daffodil waiting. He raised the window and stuck his head out, looking around as usual, but he could see nothing. Looking down at the offering, he had to smile again. Shaking his head, he picked up the flower and slid back into the house, closing the window behind him.

As soon as Craig heard the window close, he was up on his feet and running to his back door. He slid in, leaning heavily against the wood. His breath came in sharp gasps, his throat hurting with the need to just TELL Mark already, but with the gorgeous men that often visited Mark’s home, he knew he wouldn’t have a chance. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as his own thready voice began to reprimand him. “You bloody, fucking coward. He’ll never know if you don’t tell him. YOU’LL never know if you don’t tell him...”

Leaning back against the refrigerator, Mark sighed, looking at the daffodil. He’d never in his life had a secret admirer, and he couldn’t think of anyone it could possibly be. Surely not one of his music students. Nor any of the other teachers he worked with at the university. He could only wish it was the handsome man next door. Banging his head back against the fridge door, Mark told himself to get over it. He moved and found the vase that held a now wilted flower and replaced it, taking it to sit on the piano where he could admire it as he worked.

Forty-five minutes later, Craig closed his front door behind him, casting a wistful gaze at Mark’s house. He smiled when he saw the daffodil in its usual spot on the baby grand in Mark’s bay window.

Sitting on his front steps for a change while waiting for his first student of the day, Mark was surprised to see his neighbor. When the man glanced his way, he raised a hand in casual greeting, all the while thinking how handsome the other man looked.

Craig startled at the unexpected move, tripping over his own feet and landing facedown in the grass, papers flying everywhere.

Mark blinked in surprise and swore, launching from the steps and running down the walk, rounding the half hedge to crouch next to his neighbor, offering him a hand. “Hey...are you okay?” Mark asked in concern.

Rolling over on the still damp grass, Craig groaned. He lifted a hand, picking the damp khakis away from his knees. “I think I’m okay. Just - wow. I just fell right over, didn’t I?”

Placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him, Mark looked over the other man. “Anything hurt?” he asked, running his free hand over his knees.

Craig blushed, drawing his knees up as Mark’s hand touched him, doing weird things to his belly. “Um - no. Luckily I have grass. On the other hand, you have that nice, lovely paved walk that I’ve been lucky not to bust my arse....um...never mind. I’m okay.”

Tilting his head in confusion, Mark glanced over to his yard. “You’ve been lucky not to bust...on my walk? What, does the paperboy throw your stuff in my yard?” he asked, a smile curving his lips as he stood, offering the other man a hand up.

“Yeah - that’s it,” Craig agreed readily, grasping Mark’s hand as he was lifted effortlessly off of the grass. He gaped as he stood near the tall man, having never realized exactly how tall Mark was until the moment he stood face-to-face with him.

“Good. That you’re not hurt, I mean. Not about the paperboy. I don’t get the paper, so I hadn’t wondered...” Mark smiled lopsidedly, hoping he didn’t seem too eager. “I’m Mark Ferguson,” he said, introducing himself.

“I know,” Craig gushed before blushing wildly and adding, “I’m Craig Parker.” He reached to shake Mark’s hand before realizing he still had Mark’s fingers in his grasp.

“Craig Parker,” Mark repeated slowly, smiling down at the other man. “Nice to meet you, Craig Parker. I hope you’re all right then...” he motioned to Craig’s knees. “After the fall and all.”

“I’m fine. I just - well - these trousers will need to go, but - I was just going to the market. Fuck! My list...” Craig turned and looked frantically for the list, cursing his anal habits of writing down EVERYTHING that he needed.

“Here it is,” Mark said, spotting the paper caught in the hedge that ran between their yards. He picked it up and held it out. “You’re...dressed quite nice just to go to the market. I figured you were headed to work.”

“I’m on vacation this week,” Craig offered hurriedly. “Can’t break the habit of dressing this way, I guess.”

Mark smiled, nodding. “Sure. Well. Nice to meet you. Craig Parker.”

Plucking the list from between Mark’s fingers, Craig stepped back toward his house. “I guess I should change - get into town before the traffic gets bad...” He turned, before realizing that he hadn’t - “Thank you, Mark - for helping me.”

The taller man smiled pleasantly from the sidewalk next to the hedge, nodding. “You’re welcome,” he called out, stepping sideways toward his yard. “Craig Parker,” he said to himself, enchanted, as he knew he’d be.

==

The next morning, Mark got up at 6:30, hoping to catch his secret admirer. Taking a quick bathroom break, he snuck down the stairs, peeking around the corner and looking to the window in the kitchen.

Craig stepped out his door, inhaling deeply in the early morning air. He cast a glance over to Mark’s house, wondering if he should chance leaving a daffodil today. After all, he’d met the other man yesterday, and there’d been no apparent attraction on the other man’s part. He turned to step back into his house, pausing with his hand on the doorknob as his gaze fell to the bed of daffodils near his front walk. Even though his neighbor hadn’t acted interested, Craig still was. He reached for a daffodil, plucking it gently and twirling it between his thumb and forefinger as he stepped down onto the graveled path in front of his own home.

Squinting to look out the window in the dim dawn sunshine, Mark frowned as he didn’t see anything right away, so he settled himself to wait...surely the admirer who had left a flower every day for two weeks wouldn’t stop now.

Stepping through Mark’s gate once more and making sure the bothersome thing didn’t squeak, Craig approached the small, cozy house along the paved walkway. He cast a lonely look toward the window he imagined housed Mark’s bedroom. He’d love to find out if he was right, but he didn’t see it happening any time soon. Thinking of knocking on the door and ending the mystery, Craig lifted the daffodil to his lips instead, closing his eyes as he placed a soft kiss to its dewy petals. Finally, he placed the flower on the same windowsill he’d left one on for the past two weeks.

Mark blinked and slowly smiled as Craig appeared, bearing a beautiful bloom, and the butterflies in his stomach went crazy when he saw the other man kiss the flower so longingly. He rose to his feet and moved quietly to the window.

Craig’s fingertips were still on the delicate, verdant stem of the bloom when he raised his eyes to make sure he wasn’t being observed. He gazed through the glass, at first seeing only his reflection in the early morning light. When his eyes focused, he saw Mark standing on the other side of the thin pane of the window. His eyes widened and he stepped back, already turning on his heels.

Hurrying to raise the window, Mark called out. “Wait - Craig...please,” he said, voice honest.

Shaking his head, Craig continued forward, not even able to look back. “I can’t. I have to... I have to be somewhere... yeah.”

“Craig! Wait!” Mark leaned out the window, but when the other man didn’t stop he pulled himself in and ran for the front door, totally forgetting he was just in boxer briefs and a tank. He threw open the door and bounded outside. “Wait! Just a second!”

Craig pulled the gate open, not worrying about any noise it would make, and ran for his own front door. The green door stood open, offering him sanctuary and privacy and ... in there he wouldn’t have to think of what a fool he had been.

His long legs giving him an advantage, Mark ran across the drive to the gate and followed Craig through, catching him just as he reached his own porch. “Craig, please,” he asked, touching the other man’s arm. “Just talk to me for a minute!”

Craig stopped, chest heaving in embarrassment and worry. He remained facing forward, eyes trained on his feet. “Nice weather we’re having,” he commented lamely, his voice sounding weak and frightened to his own ears.

Confused, Mark stood on the step next to the other man, who seemed really upset. “I...I’m sorry if I mussed your fun,” he said, thinking maybe Craig was mad because Mark had ruined his surprise. “I’ve really enjoyed the flowers.”

“I have some bulbs if you’d like to plant your own garden,” Craig volunteered in a slightly faster cadence than he normally used. “They’re no trouble at all to grow. And the color is beautiful. I always wondered what it would look like next to your dark sk...” He bit his lip, closing his eyes and cursing himself inwardly.

Tilting his head, Mark took a chance and reached up slowly to cup Craig’s cheek, turning the other man’s face so that he could see his eyes. Craig’s eyes remained stubbornly closed. He didn’t want to see the scorn or sarcasm that would be present in the other man’s dark gaze.

His voice soft and pleading, Mark asked quietly, “Please, won’t you even look at me?” He reached up to lightly caress Craig’s cheek - not understanding how Craig could be so shy yet outgoing enough to sneak him a flower every day.

Craig opened his eyes, but his gaze remained at eye level, which on Mark, was mid-chest.

Mark had to chuckle. “Ornery, aren’t you?” he asked, voice clearly amused. “Thank you for the flowers,” he added.

Craig nodded, unable to accept the gratitude gracefully. In his own mind, he was still overstepping the limits by leaving the flowers to begin with. Confronted with taking responsibility for his actions, he viewed them as rather...stalkerish.

Tilting his head, Mark considered why Craig might look so uncomfortable. He’d admired him from afar, maybe too shy to do anything more? Lifting his knuckle to gently rub Craig’s cheek, he leaned down to kiss it. “Another flower tomorrow, maybe?” he asked, hoping to keep the other man visiting, even clandestinely.

Craig finally looked up to meet Mark’s gaze. “Tomorrow?” He hoped that meant that Mark wasn’t mad about the flowers.

Charmed, Mark smiled reassuringly. “Yeah, tomorrow,” he said, still lightly stroking Craig’s cheek.

Craig’s smile rivaled the beauty of the daffodils.

*****

THE END

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