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They're not mutually exclusive Marc. [ Good luck changing his mind, he might be a little squirrely at times but he's as stubborn as it gets. ]

Yeah, that'd be worse. I'll tell you I don't miss that stupid pigeon.

I'm not... I don't follow?

Edited 2022-06-19 08:07 (UTC)

You know, it was easier when you were just yelling at me.

[Telling him he'd ruined his life or that he was a parasite or whatever else.

But whatever, he doesn't want to bring the mood down. Although he also doesn't want to make Steven embarrassed again either. So--]

Yeah, don't worry about it, buddy. So, what time's Jeopardy anyway?

I could go back to yelling at you, if you'd like? [ He probably couldn't, honestly, but it was worth being antagonistic about. If anything he seems to be taking longer to reply like he hasn't quite decided what he wants to say. Which is true. Avoidance was easier, maybe he could just sink down on the couch and pretend he hadn't-- he didn't-- ]

On in about ten. [ Coward. God he felt like such a weasel. No doubt that heavy sigh could almost be felt. ] I've realized that so many of the thing sI found endearing and appealing about Layla [ Oh no, he's doing it now-- but shit. Shit. ] Are things she's in common with you. I don't expect that to be something you want to know, but at the very least if we're going to share... a space. You might as well know. There. Better? [ Nailed it. ]

Nah, that's okay. [Unless he wants to anyway. Then he can yell away -- Marc wouldn't stop him.]

What she had in common with me? Pretty sure she had more... in common with you, buddy. [Which probably says a lot about Marc, doesn't it? That he fell in love with a woman that shared so many of his alter's hobbies and loves and--

Well, he just hopes it hasn't been too obvious.]

[ Maybe, later, if he thinks on it enough-- right now he's busy trying not to spill the whole of his nerves all over the floor. ]

She's brilliant, adventurous, tough and unintentionally funny. She's also stubborn, emotional, and a little bit vicious. [ Thinking about himself a bit, the connection seems messy, but he's coming at it from the wrong direction. ] Poetry and a love of Egypt, maybe. Though I think it was a bit unfair, considering she'd only see your face.

You're also stubborn and emotional, you know.

[More emotional than Marc generally allows himself to be, but-- that's neither here nor there.] She's got this... love of life, like you. Hope at the end of the day. I'm not saying I didn't, that I don't love her for everything else she is, but... I can't say she didn't remind me of you a little either. I can't say that's not something that drew me in, Steven.

[And he doesn't know if things will work out with Layla. If it isn't better to just let her go before she gets dragged into anything more messed up because of Marc.

But that doesn't matter when it comes to Steven and Marc themselves, because they'll always have each other. Because that love can be and is separate from that -- and it's deep and messy and complicated, but Marc wouldn't trade it for the world. He'd been willing to stay in the Duat with Steven, and like hell he wouldn't still go back there with him right now if that's how it ended up.]

I'm just saying, Steven... You don't always realize just how much I... adore you or whatever.

[That feels cheesy and ridiculous to say. He kind of hates himself for it, but it also isn't far from the truth.]

Edited (wrong icon, sorry!) 2022-06-19 19:03 (UTC)

[ That nagging that he had been swallowing down is a little hard to ignore. Blooming like a flower, tilting itself in a sort of heliotropism toward emotions he was trying to ignore. Ever leaning him toward Marc in a way that was undoubtedly not healthy but almost impossible to ignore. Something he had resigned himself to in a quiet way, in spite of his better interests. It was so much easier to be brave when the problem was a jackal he could run from or punch; everything felt so much more difficult and delicate with Marc. ]

Marc... [ And for a bit, that's all he can think to say because he can feel those little braces he'd put up beginning to collapse, that barrier to the last little bit of his heart beginning to crumble like sands sliding down the dunes. ] I'm sorry I...[ Wasn't really listening before? Was so caught up in his own feelings and nonsense to give him the credit he deserved?

None of it sounds good, so he doesn't say those things. Instead, he presses on. ] I wish I could hug you again.

Hey, don't apologize.

[He's got nothing to apologize for. All of this is-- it's levels of fucked up that he shouldn't be shoving on Steven anyway. They really should have just ordered in and watched TV until it was time to crawl into bed. He shouldn't have mentioned anything, or given Steven a hard time...

Because now it sounds like he's-- upset. He doesn't want him upset. He's tired of-- being the cause of complications for him or dragging him into things he doesn't want to be involved in.

... Except it at least sounds like he wants to be involved in this. Even if-- he really shouldn't. Even if it feels like Marc is failing to protect him again.]

Yeah... Yeah. Me too. Never thought I'd miss getting to touch you like that so much.

[Weird how used to it he got though.]

[ It's the sort of thing that would earn one of those dry laughs, weak and just a tinge of humor in it. Got used to it. Missed it. Thought about it when he shouldn't. There had been no more a pathetic moment than Steven struggling to stay awake and finish his film, curled up on the couch and holding his own bloody hand for some semblance of the contact that he wanted. Contact he was aware he'd probably never get again. He really was mental. ]

Yeah. Bit unfair all things considered. [ Maybe. He wasn't really sure about the fairness of anything, especially not when they involved his already volatile emotions. He just wanted so much, more than most people could reasonably give, and in one way he knew they'd be together no matter what-- in another, was it not more painful without being able to ever hug again? His stomach felt like it was in a coil of knots. It reminded him of the first time he'd been aware of the darkness behind the curtain, feeling so small, so vulnerable, so trapped.

It's enough to make his breathing a little wheezy. ] I don't know what to do now.

You know I'm always gonna be here with you, right? No matter what.

[It's not-- fair. But he's not sure what to do either. He can be the little voice in Steven's head, he can front when he doesn't want to, when he needs to hide away. They can share-- this life. He's just not sure how to give him-- the other stuff.]

I'd give you anything you want, you know. If I could.

[But letting people down is kind of Marc's specialty, isn't it? And he-- can't even help it in this case.

... Well, maybe he can give something. Not like he hasn't-- taken partial control, right? So--]

You trust me?

[ It takes him a long moment to even try to respond, because something about his words sinks into Steven's chest like a rock hitting the water. He finds his breath caught in his chest, tight and twisted up like there are cloying hands wrapped around his lungs. ]

Of course I do.

[ It's breathless, but he's finally got a bit in his lungs, something that he sucks in greedily before deflating down a little. He had been hiding behind text messages, up until now, but the words slipped free before he thought about it. ] _{I trust you more than you know...}

Edited (meant to subtext it, whoops, hi) 2022-06-24 11:31 (UTC)

[If he could pull Steven inside with him, he would-- well, maybe he can, but it feels like a selfish thing to do. If he focuses hard enough, he can feel the weight on Steven's chest, the near panic attack he's worked himself into.]

C'mon-- try to relax.

[The texts are forgotten in favor of just-- speaking to Steven directly. He has enough control to move one of their hands to hold the other, rub his thumb over the hand Steven's knuckles soothingly.]

What do you need me to do, Steven?

[ He feels like he doesn't understand so much. Why, after everything, could it still hurt so much to want? He had no one else to blame, either. Messaging Marc instead of literally anyone else like he just couldn't stop embarrassing himself. ] Yeah, right. Right.

[ The tingle in his arm is the only telltale sign until he can't feel it, like it's simply fallen off or he'd slept on it too long. Numb. Gone. It should be terrifying, but it's not. Because it's Marc. The brush of one hand over the other, the slow touch, makes everything so much better and so much worse. He really is pathetic, isn't he? So touched starved that he'll sink back and close his eyes and pretend he doesn't know he's holding his own hand.

A little wheeze escapes. Maybe he should add narcissism to his list of problems. ] You'll hate me.

I don't think hating you is even possible, Steven.

[He can't imagine it, not even for a second.]

Even paradise couldn't compete with you, c'mon.

[As nice as the Field of Reeds had looked, it had been Steven that had won out in the end, no hesitation. Surely he can see that, right? Being with Steven is the reward for all the shit he's suffered through. Doesn't matter what he needs for Marc, that's not gonna change.]

Just tell me. Alright? Let me take care of you.

It's possible. [ He utters under his breath with the tone of a man who has long since accepted hating himself over something. The mention of paradise makes his whole body clench in a different way. Part of him feels so much warmth, so much goddamn love at that, and yet there's always that inkling of pain. The idea he'd taken Marc from the peace he finally deserved, trapped him back here in this aching body with him.

He'll never say that though. He's a coward. ] You always take care of me, Marc. [ It's a softer murmur as the tension bleeds out, as resignation begins sinking in. He can't look, even though Marc isn't there for him to see. It doesn't change the flush of embarrassment or the wall all of him feels so twisted up, afraid. He doesn't want to lose what they've got because he wants more. It's greedy and stupid, but he can't keep his mouth shut anyway. ]

I want to take care of you, I want to make you smile, I want to make everything so much less awful. [ His voice wavers, softens, the words are just above a whisper, muttered in an empty room. ] I want to touch you, I want to hear your breath stutter when I do. I know it's bloody mental, absolutely wrong, but I can't stop myself from thinking about it. I want all of you.

[ He wanted a painful amount of things that he knew he just couldn't have. ]

It's not. [He'll say it as many times as Steven needs to hear it. He couldn't hate him. He never could, whatever is going on in his head or whatever obstacles they've still got to face and overcome. Packaged deal now, right?]

Steven-- [There's a hitch to his breath now. He's not there to see Steven face to face. He can't even get a good glimpse from one of the mirrors. But it doesn't matter. Those words make something inside him clench with want, with just a little bit of guilt maybe, like he's caused this somehow. Like he's not left Steven with any other options besides the broken soldier living in his head--

But that's momentary in comparison to the warmth he feels, the affection. The hand that had been resting on the one under Steven's control drifts up his body slowly to brush over his jaw. It's not-- quite the same. But he can feel Steven under his fingertips, he can at least touch in some small way.]

I am all yours, you know. You don't-- have to be embarrassed with me, Steven. You can tell me anything you want, you know?

[He doesn't have to worry, doesn't have to fret or hate himself or-- anything. Not with Marc.]

I want you too.

[Does that make it hurt less or more? He's not-- sure, but it's the truth at least.]

Maybe always have.

[ Just that little breath, that hitch, is going to live in his mind for however long. Going to reply in the worst of times when he tries to pretend he isn't as wanton and awful as he is. He worries, much in the same way, that he's become a thing of obligation to Marc. That he's invaded his life at such a deep level he'd be guilted into caring-- but he doesn't want to think that. Knows so much of it is the cruelty of life and anxiety trying to take everything he has.

There are few things on this Earth that would have him admit to the pained, desperate sound that escapes when he feels fingers near his jaw, skimming past his neck. He wants so much, so badly. It hurts and yet he loves it all the same. If Marc stopped right now he has no doubt he'd just wither away.

And he'd accept that. ]

Please. [ The word is bitten off, teeth scraping his lip, dragging against it as he pulls hard and tries to bite back the desperation in his tone. It's like a tap, twisted on and he doesn't know how to turn it back off again. Doesn't know if it's possible after Marc's said that. ] I wish I could kiss you. [ He can dream, at best, the sort of thing that makes him dig his teeth too hard into his lip, to threaten to draw blood, and yet, it's not enough. Nothing is enough. ]

I want you to keep touching me.

[He swears he can almost feel that desperation, the way that Steven seems to almost-- need this. It steals his very breath away for a moment, makes something in him twist and ache even worse because he wants to-- give him that. He wants to give him everything he asks for and more.

He doesn't think he deserves this, really. Someone as beautiful and wonderful as Steven desiring him in any way. But Marc is selfish enough to cling to it, to hold on and take until Steven has nothing left to give. Until he's wrung out and satisfied and sure of Marc's devotion and love, no matter how fucked up it is.

No matter how broken Marc is.

He shushes him gently, using his hand to caress over Steven's throat, just tight enough to feel the pulse in his neck before he's dragging down over their chest, lower. Just careful caresses for now, exploration.]

I want you to keep your eyes closed, Steven. I'm not gonna stop touching you... okay, buddy? I'm gonna make sure you feel good tonight.

[ It's hard for him to keep quiet, but he wants to listen, wants to make sure that he can keep himself together so Marc doesn't pull away. He's too much, he's always been too much. Even for himself. A light whisper of a sound that's bitten back, kept in his throat, vibrating against the fingers that skim his throat, the press of it making his lashes flutter. It's hard to ignore the warmth that spreads down from his neck to the whole of him. ] Okay, yeah. I can do that. [ It sounds like a challenge, but it isn't.

In truth keeping his eyes closed lets him imagine so much more, like he's not settled by himself on the couch with his hand under the control of someone else. If he tries hard enough he can imagine Marc with him, the feel of his fingers rough and welcome.

If he tries hard enough maybe he can pretend this is the first time he's thought about this. ] It's-It's alright Marc, I trust you. [ A different sensation of pinpricks skim down his body, following the path of the hand as it roams, goosebumps easily rising up near where he was touched, a shiver unable to be suppressed. He wished he could do something in return, to press a kiss to every bit of skin available, but in reality, there is none. One foot presses down into the floor to keep himself still. ]

Keep talking, please?

[He wants it to be more than this. He wants to be there to kiss Steven, to map every inch of his body with his lips, touch every inch of him with both hands until he's falling apart underneath him, until he's shuddering apart and crying in pleasure, and none of those little worries or anxieties can touch him.

Until they're each other's whole world and nothing exists outside of their tangled limbs.

But they can't have that, especially right now, so the hand moving over Steven, tugging up his shirt to smooth over the skin underneath will have to do. It's somehow familiar and not, all at the same time. Nails rake over his stomach bluntly, teasing.]

You have no idea, all the things I've thought about doing with you, to you. [He moves down to start opening the other's pants. Slow. There's no rush. He doesn't want to spook Steven.]

You're not alone, Steven.

[ It's a breathy sound, interrupted by a laugh, just a tinge of ticklish near the sides of his stomach but it melts back into a groan soon enough. The pressure of it is welcome, there's no mistaking that. He sinks down a little further, he can't help himself and there's something so heady about letting himself get stuck in the moment. Maybe part of it is just being allowed to get out of his head for a few seconds, to focus on Marc and nothing else. It's hard to say, maybe he'll have more to think about later, more to say, but for now this is all he wants. Needs. ]

No-- wish I did though. [ A breathless laugh, something caught up in his throat, struggling to get out between the puffed breaths he drags in to try and slow his heart down. But it's not panic, not like it usually was with him, it's every nerve being on fire, every inkling of excitement that he had rising to the surface, refusing to be surpressed now that it was happening. ]

I've got you. [ He agrees, practically vibrating at the sound of his belt falling unclasped, another nervous laugh, filled with too much energy escaping. ] And you've got me. Any and all of me you want. [ Again it feels too confessional but he can't stop himself. The hand not under Marc's control fisting so hard in the couch he can feel his knuckles pop, but all the same he manages to keep quiet.

Mostly. ] Tell me?

Edited (typo champioon ) 2022-06-25 05:50 (UTC)

[He relishes every noise, every stutter of breath that leaves Steven. He wishes he could see him, watch every twitch or squirm, watch everything he's feeling play across his face.

But he contents himself with teasing fingertips under the waistband of Steven's pants once they're open, curious if they'll like the same things, if Steven will have different spots he's sensitive in, different areas he wants Marc's hands.]

Let's see... [He hums thoughtfully as his hand slides a bit further into Steven's pants, fingertips flattening against his skin, deliberately just letting them rest there for now.]

I've wanted to wake you up just like this, with my hand on you... maybe my mouth. Slowly wake you up with kisses and pleasure until all you can do is gasp my name and beg for more. [His hand slides back out of his pants in favor of hitching Steven's shirt up further, until he's exposed and Marc can tease his fingers down over Steven's chest.]

You ever been with a guy before, Steven? I mean, you sounded pretty sure of those epic blowjobs... [He can't help the tease, a soft, short chuckle leaving him.]

You ever think of more than that? Getting inside of me, me being inside of you...

[ It's like his head is filled with fuzz, a dull hum that cottons his ears and makes his heart press into his ribcage. The tease of fingers it really more than he can take, and for a second he wants to laugh when Marc pulls up, but instead all that comes out is a low, aching sort of moan. Something he tries to swallow when it's halfway out but it still manages to slip from between his teeth. ] Shit. [ The curse escapes, sharp, fingers twitching, vision rocking just slightly with how hard his heart is thudding against his ribs. ] Bit cruel, yeah? [ Another little laugh, because he doesn't really mind, can't even manage to sound like he does.

Though the questions make him stir, and maybe he takes a little bit too long to answer. ] I-- [ His brows knit, pulling together and then up as he deflates a little. ] No, not-- no. [ And it tumbles out because he's not sure if it's more embarrassing to explain why he's sure or his own inexperience. ]

How couldn't I? [ The cool air makes his skin feel tighter, or maybe that's those teasing fingers and he can't help when he finally releases that iron grip in favor of skimming up over his own hip. Gripping himself a little too tightly through his pants, like he can manage to take some of the edge off. ] I wanted, I want to take you apart, to give you that relief. No pain, no stress, just me, overwhelming every bit of you till you're a-at peace. [ A swallow as his leg lifts, planting against the coffee table, giving it a bit of a push. ]

I don't care how, I just want you. Wanted you. For too long.

Trust me, Steven... this isn't anywhere near cruel for me. [He could make him wait until he's so desperate, he's crying. He could edge him close to release over and over and over again without ever letting him get there. But he won't. He just wants this to be nice for Steven.

There's a quiet huff. Of course he's inexperienced -- although he does wonder about the blowjob thing. Not too hard, because it makes him feel heated in a less pleasurable way. He can feel jealousy gnaw at him at the thought of anyone else touching Steven, getting what Marc wants so desperately.

He needs to work on those possessive tendencies, he knows, but it's not going to be right now.

Right now, he's just dragging his hand back down Steven's body, back to his trousers. It's still slow-- palming over Steven firmly, taking his time and at least trying to not overwhelm Steven with too much, too soon.]

Take in a breath, Steven... I'm gonna give you whatever I can, promise.

[ He wants to ask about it, opens his mouth to do so but the huff makes him bite his cheek, nervous and he doesn't know why. Having a sex drive isn't something to be ashamed of, right? Why is it they shared the same body but talking to Marc about it made him feel like he's going to burn up from the inside out.

His hips lift before he can stop himself even when Marc gets close. ] Sorry. Sorry. [ He swallows hard, choking the feeling down and planting his hips again, but he feels painfully sensitive. He stutters out a softer, embarrassed apology though he's not entirely sure why as the slow palming makes him twitch in his pants.

He's going to lose his mind. ] Marc. [ His name is bitten out, almost sweetly as he does as he's told. It's too easy, too good, a suck of breath does a little to calm his nerves but he doesn't mind. He feels like it's been eons since he's been touched, though it reminds him of Duat, of the warmth, of not being alone. It's a complex feeling and he doesn't have the ability to process it now. ]

I know-- I know, I trust you. [ He repeats, not really needing to say it but he's never been good at keeping his mouth shut. ] K-keep talking, please? [ It's a less sure request, more to the point than his earlier utterances, but he wants to hear that voice in his ear. Imagine the weight dipping on the couch. Marc's irritatingly talented hands on him. It's mental, he's mental, but he's fine with that if he gets a little taste of this. ]

I need to hear you.

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