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haberdashing · 4 years

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Fuck, Marry, Kill

TMA fic. A very high Elias Bouchard and Michael Shelley learn more about one another.

on AO3

There was a certain storage room in the Magnus Institute that rarely got used. It held boxes upon boxes of old, dusty documents that were almost never actually consulted by either the Institute’s staff or visiting researchers, but the Institute kept them around just the same, the room quickly forgotten by most who worked there.

As Elias Bouchard had discovered and Michael Shelley had learned soon thereafter, it was an ideal place to smoke pot without anybody noticing.

The two were in the room together now, both well and truly high at this point, the space a bit cramped due to all the old cardboard boxes but more than adequate for their purposes. It reeked of old, rotting paper and mildew, but the smell, while unpleasant, was one that both of them had learned to live with over their months of using this room as their secret hiding spot.

Michael, at least, justified the time spent here by that Gertrude and Emma were off on some conference or other abroad (somewhere in the tropics, if he remembered right, the lucky bastards), and that he’d made a fair bit of progress earlier in the day on all the work that had been left behind for him, and that really they were expecting more than was entirely realistic if they thought he was going to get everything done on his own while they were away.

Michael didn’t know what Elias’ justification, if any, for getting high on the job was, but he never seemed to feel especially guilty about it, at any rate.

Elias was leaning unsteadily against one set of boxes when he looked Michael in the eye and said, “Alright, alright, alright, I’ve got an idea. Fuck, marry, kill. But with the Institute staff. Who would you choose?”

Michael stared at the floor and its unexceptional off-white tiles before replying, “I’ll only do it if you will.”

“Oh sure, sure, but I asked first, so you go first. That’s how it works.”

“Right. Well. Fuck Emma, I guess, she’s always so nice-”

“You choose who you fuck based on whether they’re nice?”

Michael could feel his face heating up, but he continued staring resolutely at the floor and proceeded as if Elias hadn’t said anything. “Uh, marry Gertrude-”

“No. No. Please tell me you don’t have a thing for old ladies. Don’t do this to me.”

At this, Michael’s eyes snapped back up towards Elias’ face, as he got the sinking feeling that if he wasn’t making eye contact when he responded, Elias would accuse him of lying. “What? No, not like that! I don’t really fancy her, I just... I feel bad for her, you know? Sounds like she never got married, or even came close... and maybe if I was her husband, I could get her to be less of a stick in the mud.”

Elias snorted. “Okay, that I can buy. But would you do it with her, if you had to? Lie back and think of England?”

“God, no.” Michael paused for a second before adding, “I can’t even imagine it.”

“You having sex with Gertrude Robinson?”

“Gertrude Robinson having sex, full stop.”

Elias closed his eyes and hummed to himself for a few seconds before saying, “I can. ‘S not a pretty picture.”

Then, without warning, Elias launched into what was clearly intended to be an impression of Gertrude’s voice, saying in it, “Fuck me, Michael Shelley. Fuck me hard.”

It was a horrible impression, really, but it still got both of them giggling for a good minute or two.

Once their laughter settled down, Michael said, “I still have to pick for kill, right? So, kill James Wright. No contest there.”

“He’s not that bad!” Elias protested.

“Maybe not to you, now that you’re his favorite for some reason.”

“I mean, I’ll admit his head’s up his arse half the time, but he doesn’t deserve to die.”

“You go, then. Tell me who you’d pick.”

“Fuck Michelle-”

“I don’t think I know her.”

“She’s from Artefact Storage. Hot as hell, but god, she never shuts up. If I married her we’d be divorced within the week.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Marry James-”

“What? C’mon, when I pick Gertrude it’s because I’ve got a, a granny fetish or something--she’s not even that old--but you’re going with James?”

Elias shot Michael a wide grin. “I bet he’d be a good sugar daddy.”

“Aren’t you loaded? Isn’t your actual dad already your sugar daddy?”

“That- no.” Elias made an exaggerated face of disgust and disapproval. “That’s not how that works.”

“If anyone needs a sugar daddy it’s me and my empty bank account, thank you very much-”

“Fine, then you marry James!”

“Not if you’re already married to him, I’m not going to jail for bigamy-”

Elias’ dark eyes lit up with a wicked gleam. “We can fight to the death over him.”

“No. Definitely not. However I go out, it’s not going to be losing a battle to the death for the honor of marrying James Wright.”

“You reckon you’d lose, huh?” Elias made a show of looking Michael up and down before continuing. “Probably right. Always did think you’d blow over in a breeze, let alone an actual fight.”

“Hey!”

Elias inched closer to Michael and blew air towards his face, hot breath landing on Michael’s cheek and displacing a few strands of his long blonde hair. “Oh no, a breeze! Look out, Michael!”

“Come on.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” Elias slung his arm across Michael’s shoulders, but lost his balance while doing so, the resulting fall sending them both crashing into a pile on the floor.

“See? The breeze knocked you over. Just like I said.” How Elias could still be smiling after that fall was beyond Michael, who was sure both of them would have some bruises to show for it by the end of the day.

“You knocked me over, you prick.” Michael leaned against a pile of boxes, which wavered slightly but remained steady as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

“You’re right, you’re right, my bad.” Elias stood up, then reached down, extending one arm towards Michael. “Here, I’ll help you up to make up for it.”

Michael took Elias’ hand, which was warm and slightly sweaty, and stood up. His heart was racing now, and he didn’t think all of it was from the sudden tumble. “Thanks, I suppose.”

“It’s all good.” Elias looked up at Michael now, though Michael couldn’t quite make out what emotions hid behind those hazel eyes. “Can- can I change mine, actually?”

“What, ashamed of wanting to put a ring on James?”

“No- I mean, maybe, but- I mean-”

Michael burst into laughter after seeing Elias’ face contort as he desperately grasped for words. “Whatever, change it, ‘s no skin off my back.”

“Can... can I pick you? For all of them?”

Michael’s face grew hot enough that it must have been positively scarlet, but he tried to play it cool just the same. “You want to kill me? Do I need to report you to HR?”

“I- no, I, I forgot about that one, just...” Elias bit his lip as he pondered his next sentence, which had no right being as endearing as it was.

“Sure.”

Michael said it under his breath, quietly enough that he almost thought Elias wouldn’t hear it, but that wide-eyed stare made it clear enough that Elias had heard him loud and clear, so Michael spoke up more this time.

“Sure. You can choose me.”

Michael leaned down and gently kissed Elias’ forehead, and Elias grabbed his shoulders and roughly pulled him downwards, their lips touching for a brief, beautiful moment, warm and soft and right-

And then Elias lost his balance again, and both of them tumbled onto the floor once more.

Elias started giggling, then, as both of them were still splayed out on the floor, limbs piled upon limbs and elbows and knees jabbing each other in more places than seemed strictly possible, and after a moment, Michael couldn’t help but join in in the laughter.

“You’re an asshole, Elias Bouchard, you know that?”

Elias slung one arm under Michael’s chest and pulled him into an awkward, tight half-hug as they both lay upon the cold tile floor. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too, buddy.”

Michael was never quite sure if Elias meant it or not.

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