Chapter Text
Two days after they got together, the realization that Steven was allowed to love Marc still stunned him. Every time he looked into his beautiful eyes, every time he slid his hand in Marc’s, every time he held him close without thought, his heart was alight with the realization that it was all allowed, that it was welcomed, that Marc wanted him to love him.
They spent the large majority of both days in bed, enfolded in each other’s arms, hands running gently over soft skin that glowed in the sunlight that filled their flat.
Marc has kissed Steven without reason, with no explanation other than a smile, and Steven’s responding shocked expression brought a laugh to Marc’s lips.
“What?” He had asked, a sweet smile adorning his features, soft eyes folding at the edges, flushed cheeks raised in an expression that had always filled his heart with love.
“Nothing,” Steven responded softly, leaning forward with a quick kiss, “Just keep forgetting it’s all allowed.”
Marc hummed in response, a gentle palm sliding up Steven’s side and holding him close.
“Always has been,” Marc murmured, sweet words filling the remaining cracks in his heart with golden love, flooding his senses with soft affection.
Steven placed a gentle kiss to Marc’s skin where he was held close, and that was when he remembered the worry he was never able to voice, the question he never found an excuse to ask. The smooth skin of Marc’s shoulder gave way to a rough scar in the juncture of his neck.
Steven gently traced the mark with delicate fingers, placing a soft kiss to the healed wound that was clearly well cared for.
“I’m sorry,” Steven murmured, guilt holding precedence over the questions that prodded at his tongue.
“What for?” Marc asked, confused, kind worry crossing his features, and Steven was sure he didn’t deserve such a lovely person.
“The bite,” Steven explained, brows pinched as he traced the skin as though it was fragile. He took a breath, found the words, and asked. “Do you… do you hate it?”
Marc did a double take at the question, reeling back to look Steven in his eyes. His expression was bewildered, as though the very idea was absurd, and it brought a soft smile to Steven’s lips even as anxiety twisted in his chest.
“Of course not,” Marc responded, and he almost sounded offended at the question, “Of course I don’t, why would I?”
“It scarred,” Steven spoke, his voice a scared whisper, appalled at the idea that he had ever hurt Marc. He almost spiraled, thoughts quickly devolving into shame and abhorrence, before Marc spoke.
“I wanted it to.” The words were simple, needing no explanation, and yet Steven needed Marc to keep talking. His mind stalled, torn, as he tried to make sense of it. Marc kept speaking, as though he knew exactly what Steven needed.
“Steven, I wanted it to scar. The whole time before, every time we were… together, I wanted something permanent. I wanted something that showed…” Marc trailed off, clearing reaching a limit with his comfort around his own vulnerability. Yet he went on, taking a deep breath before he gently took apart the walls that keep sacred, shameful emotions held within his heart, and let Steven hear the truth. “I wanted something that showed that I was yours. A reminder that you wanted me, even if it was just in that way.”
Steven laid still, breathless, at the words, before he gathered himself enough to respond. He geld Marc’s face kindly, soft palm holding the world in their grip, and put every ounce of sincerity he could fit into the words that easily left his lips.
“I want you for so much more than sex, my love. I love you, all that you are, and I would love you all the same if you told me you never wanted that again. You’re my light, my love, the sun and the stars, and gods, love, I can’t imagine loving you any less, no matter what. My heart is yours, it always will be.”
The words spilled from him quickly, letters falling over each other in his haste for Marc to hear him, to believe him, to know truly how much Steven loved him.
And Marc, lovely, wonderful Marc, looked at Steven like he hung the moon. Disbelief was clear in his eyes, as though he couldn’t imagine how anyone loved him so easily. The idea was absurd to Steven; who couldn’t love Marc? Surely everyone in the world saw what he did, saw the lovely person before him, and every bit of heaven he held within him.
“I love you,” Marc responded simply, adoration pouring out of him at Steven’s blatant love. Steven smiled in return, soft and sweet, gentle thumb sliding back and forth over the soft skin of Marc’s cheek.
“I love you so much, my sweet darling.” The words dripped with sweetness, sugary affection sticking to the back of Steven’s teeth when he spoke, and Marc finally realized he had grown a taste for it. The sweetness that used to be painful, the kindness that used to sting his heart, replacing every bit of bitterness within him until he could finally take it in.
He had always loved Steven, he had always been ready to give his heart to him. But it took him years to find a way to let himself be loved back. It was painful, for so long, to take in the gentle love Steven always gave him. The start of the kindness he was given- a gentle touch, a sweet word, a soft hug- felt so overwhelming, drowning him in what he knew he could never deserve.
But Steven always gave him more. Perfect, lovely Steven, always gave him more, gave him all the love in his heart, and Marc would sooner die than turn it away. So he learned. He learned how to take it, let it slowly soak into his soul, as he found a way to let himself be loved.
And then, in that wonderful moment, Marc knew he had figured it out. The sweet love Steven gave him, the wonderful kindness he was sure then he at least partially deserved, was as easy to take in as breathing.
He looked into Steven’s eyes, a beautiful brown holding the depths of his love, and he was sure then, if he drowned in the sea of love Steven gave him, he would be okay. He would breathe it all in, and it wouldn’t hurt, because it was Steven, and no one else in the world had ever been so gentle with him.
***
Steven stood in the mirror, trying fruitlessly to adjust his clothing into something presentable. He wore a deep blue button up, contrasting beautifully with his skin, along with a paler tie and a darker blazer. His hair was a mess, haphazard curls sticking in odd directions after his useless attempts at smoothing it down without the help of any horribly textured products.
A frown adorned his face, and anxiety bubbled in his chest as he saw the time. He knew Marc thought he looked nice usually- must have, he reasoned, if his eagerness to touch Steven was any indication- but he wanted to look amazing for that evening.
His first real date with Marc.
They had been out together plenty of times before, enough for their next date to be at least their thirtieth if they counted the ones that came before. But it was so much different then, meant so much more, when they were allowed to call it one.
Which is why Steven was so insistent on fussing with his appearance, a miserable expression reflected back at him as he tried to figure out what he was doing wrong.
He heard footsteps behind him, light in juxtaposition to the heavy hands that slid firmly around his waist. Marc stepped behind Steven, placing a gentle kiss to the skin of his neck as his eyes roved over Steven’s form in the mirror. Steven huffed amiably at the sensation, a small laugh forming as he felt Marc pressed fully against him.
“Marc, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” He bemoaned, frowning petulantly at his reflection that refused to change into what he wanted it to be. “You’d look so good in a suit; I look foolish!”
Marc hummed, looking at Steven’s outfit more quizzically then.
“Lose the tie,” He mumbled, pressing another kiss to Steven’s neck, “Place isn’t that fancy.”
Steven nodded gently, hands moving to unknot the strip of cloth, before he felt Marc’s hands already there, nimble fingers undoing the fabric fully so he wouldn’t have to move away.
“While you’re at it,” Marc murmured, hands running down Steven’s sides teasingly, having tossed the tie to the countertop, “Lose all your clothes.”
Steven laughed in response, and felt a bright grin pressed to his skin where Marc held him close.
“Oh, but then we’d lose our reservation! And I was so excited,” Steven responded, voice light and unhurried. He looked in the mirror again, pleased to see he looked much better. The smile Marc brought to his face, the mirth that filled his features, made the rest of him seem so much more beautiful, so pretty in the absence of his scowl.
“Fine,” Marc dragged out the word, fake exhaustion filling his voice, before pulling back to look at them both in the reflection. They both looked so different, and it couldn’t be more clear how individual they both became.
Steven’s hair was a shade lighter than Marc’s, grown out curls visible even in the mess he made it, where Marc’s hair was shorter and slicked back to look like soft waves. Their smiles were so different, both shining bright as the sun, their eyes both crinkled at the edges when they grinned, the patterns of the folds different, and Marc wanted to draw out every feature of Steven’s, paint between each fold of his expression with gold, and it was a beautiful feeling to know that adoration was allowed.
“I like your hair how it usually is, you know,” Marc spoke softly, hesitant, as though he thought his words would sound so much different than he meant. “You look amazing, no matter what you do,” He amended, “Your curls are just really pretty.”
Steven smiled at him in response, soft and sweet, and so full of love Marc was astounded he wasn’t crushed beneath it. Instead, the sensation rested over him, comforting and kind, and Marc basked in the warmth it gave him. Steven stepped closer to the mirror, reaching to mess with his hair, before he paused.
“How much time do we have?” Steven looked as though he just remembered he was on a time limit, and stress started to slowly creep into his expression.
“Half an hour,” Marc responded, gazing affectionately at Steven, “Takes fifteen minutes to get there.”
Steven’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he checked his phone.
“I thought you said it was in twenty minutes?” Steven responded, confused. Marc simply shrugged, adoring gaze never faltering.
“Yeah. I know something usually comes up, so I pushed the time back so you wouldn’t have to rush.” Marc said it so simply, as though the care for Steven, the attention he was paid, the comfort he was gifted, was nothing to be mentioned. As though it didn’t portray such a depth of love he didn’t know what he ever did to deserve.
Steven simply smiled in response, hoping the look could show all the appreciation he didn’t know how to say in the moment. Marc smiled back in response gazing lovingly at Steven as he started to arrange his curls in the artful way Marc had never figured out how to do.
Twenty-seven minutes later, Steven and Marc stood, hand in hand, in front of the restaurant. It took Steven a moment to recognize it as the one Marc had taken him to so long ago.
Steven turned to Marc, surprise and appreciation evident in his expression, and squeezed his hand.
“You said not fancy,” Steven accused lightly, voice high with shock, and looked back down at himself.
“It’s not,” Marc replied as they walked in. They were greeted by the same marble-patterned pillars, the same pristine leather, the same opulent lights adorning the ceiling. “Not really,” He amended when Steven looked at him pointedly, drawing out a laugh, “It’s not where I’d take you if I was gonna propose.”
The words were said with such ease, so off-handedly, as though the thought came frequently, that it took Marc a moment to catch up to what he said. Steven simply stood there, wide eyed, and waited for Marc to say anything at all about that.
Marc was saved the embarrassment when the hostess asked for their reservation, Marc giving out his last name, and for a moment Steven was distracted by how good it felt to be taken care of.
They were led to their table, plush red cushions under a soft orange light, a table for two, and Steven had never been happier.
“So,” Marc spoke, teasing, as he rested his chin of folded palms before him, “What do you like to do?”
Steven laughed in response, loud and bright, and Marc would do anything in the world to keep that sound in his life.
Marc had struggled his whole life, with love and loss and finding meaning in all the moments he was gifted with. He had always been so hesitant regarding love, feeling so undeserving of it, sure he wasn’t worthy of giving it. Steven, though, he never had a shortage of love to give, and it was always so easy for him to find it everywhere he looked. In the little things he did, in little bright pieces of the world that flitted by that he missed when he wasn’t careful, in the people he was lucky enough to meet.
Steven’s view of the world was one Marc was so hesitant to accept, yet so ready to need. With his presence, with his help, Marc started to see the bright bits in everything again. He was able to feel everything fully again, letting it all in where he had to steadfastly walled it off to keep out the pain, and by extension, everything else.
With Steven’s existence, with Marc by his side, their hearts had tied themselves together, until being without each other felt like missing a piece of their souls. They fit together so perfectly, so easily, that it was easy to forget where one ended and the other began.
“I love you so much,” Marc spoke, quiet and easy. Each time he said it, every moment those lovely words graced his lips, each and every instance where he was allowed to hear those three words and know they were true, was a drop of liquid gold soldering the fragile pieces of his heart together. Every confession, every assurance, every promise to love him forever, arranged together the shards of Marc and Steven’s hearts, fitting them perfectly together, just as they were meant to be.
Neither knew what would greet them the next time they died, whether they would be accepted into the field of reeds or become a soul forever lost to the sands. But what they did no, with no unclear certainty, was that their hearts, when they will be weighed, will be woven together, threaded through with the golden twine of their love, forever intertwined. They knew, without a bit of hesitancy, that they would be together as long as their souls existed, just as it was always meant to me.