Chapter 1
Steven Grant had never been the type of person who did well on his own; it hadn’t helped that he had previously had large chunks of his memories missing before he had become aware of Marc’s presence, but even afterwards, he found himself struggling from time to time whenever Marc wasn’t around in their headspace. He loved the company of the other man, even admitting so every now and again.
“Marc, come back!” Steven often found himself uttering the words without thinking. He could be out in public and would accidentally call out for the other, earning him odd looks from others around him. He had learned quickly to keep an earbud in and pretend he was on a phone call. Despite being surrounded by people a lot of the time, there was nobody quite like Marc. Marc knew him in a way nobody else did, in a way that Steven felt too shy and awkward to share with others. It was easy to be unapologetically himself with Marc.
So when the two got into an argument, Steven could have never felt more alone. Steven hadn’t thought the argument was something to get too upset over, really. The two had had their share of bickering in the past countless times, so a disagreement over their flat arrangement hadn’t been on his radar of bad arguments. He would catch himself gazing into his reflection - in the mirror, in the fish tank, on a spoon - but Marc was never there. At first, he assumed it would pass over and Marc would show up, rolling his eyes all huffy like he would before, and Steven would apologize for misstepping. Once a week had passed of no Marc appearances, not even a glimpse of him, Steven really began to worry.
Sitting alone at the small dining table where the two had shared several breakfasts, dinners, and the occasional late night snack, he picked at his plate, his appetite turned sour from the pit that had formed in his stomach over the past few days. “Marc,” he spoke quietly. “Marc, I-” He hesitated. Was Marc even listening? Regardless, he opted to keep talking. “I didn’t mean to upset you. We can get rid of some of my books like you asked me to. You were right! It does make it look cluttered!” He paused, waiting for a response.
Nothing.
“Marc, please. I’m sorr-”
“Don’t say you’re sorry, Steven” His skin crawled when he caught sight of someone else in the reflection of his silverware in the dimmed lighting of his flat. It definitely wasn’t Marc, he was sure of that. This man had a more sinister gleam in his eye, though he wouldn’t quite call it evil.
“You’re the other guy, aren’t you?” Steven murmured. His head tilted slightly as he leaned forward towards the silverware. “You’re the reason Khonshu is still with us, huh?” The man rolled his eyes; the reaction was definitely reminiscent of the way Marc would roll his eyes at Steven. “What have you done with Marc?” He couldn’t help the accusatory sound that crept into his voice.
“I didn’t do anything to him. He’s just pouting like a baby,” the other scoffed. He pointed a finger at Steven. “Which is why you shouldn’t apologize. Let him sit around with a stick up his ass until he decides to get off his high horse.” His tone held one comparable to that of an authoritative figure, and Steven found himself almost nodding to his words, before shaking his head to pull himself away from it.
“What- no, I upset him-”
“No, he’s an asshole who can’t stand it when things don’t go his way. He’s always complaining for one reason or the other, he hardly seems to even appreciate having you around,” the other man immediately shot back.
“Who are you?!” Steven finally asked, exasperated. “What do you know about him that I don’t?!” He felt himself growing defensive. He and Marc had shared their experiences on the Duat, they knew everything about each other! Sure, Marc could be difficult at times, but he always came around. “Who are you to be telling me what Marc is like?! He’s always with me! I know he doesn’t always express himself that well, but he- he-” He desperately fought to find the words, but found himself flustered, unable to sort his thoughts. “Marc likes me! If he didn’t like me, I think he would have told me by now! We’re - we’re friends now!” he said, though he had lost the ferocity in his voice, faltering badly. How embarrassing, he thought, that he was miserably trying to prove to someone he barely knew that Marc wanted him around - or was it that he was trying to prove it to himself? The thought had crossed his mind several times, he would be lying if he tried to claim it didn’t. Maybe Marc was growing sick of him and didn’t need him anymore.
“Whoa, hey, calm down,” the other man said, his demeanor changing. “I never said he didn’t like you, solo que él no te aprecia like he should.” He gestured towards Steven. “How often does he tell you that he’s sorry?” When Steven couldn’t come up with an answer, he was met with “Exactly what I’m talking about.”
“He doesn’t have to say it, I know he’s sorry.”
“Even I can see how terrible that is.”
Steven fell silent, jaw clenched. “I’ve had enough of you,” he said tightly, standing from his seat. “I don’t like you very much. Please tell Marc I’m sorry and that I’d like to speak with him when he’s ready.”
“I’m not tellin’ Marc shit.”
—
Night had quickly fallen, and with no work shift to keep Steven busy, he had to fight the urge to pace the flat until it was time to settle down for bed. He had made no attempt to go out that day, waiting around for Marc or maybe even the other guy to try and talk to him again. Maybe the message had been passed along to Marc, and he would come by to hear Steven out.
He had no such luck and Steven could feel his eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute. Defeated, he heaved a sigh and quietly trudged into the bathroom to make quick work of brushing his teeth. He barely bothered a glance at the mirror; he knew all that would be staring back at him was himself anyway. After changing into his pajamas sluggishly, he finally settled into his bed, feeling rather hollow. He hadn’t felt this alone since the Duat, when they’d been separated, but that had been before Marc had found him. He found himself smiling softly at the memory. The embrace the two had shared had felt like heaven to Steven. If it had been up to him, he would have never let go.
“I’m sorry, Marc,” he whispered into the darkness as he felt himself slipping into sleep.
—
Sunlight streamed into the flat as his eyes fluttered open. Upon checking the time, he found it to be reading 10:37 AM - a bit later than the hour he usually woke up, but he figured he had just been extra tired last night from all his worrying. Groaning softly, he rolled out of bed. It called out to him, begging him to stay a bit longer. Why not wait until 11 AM? What’s 23 minutes more, lazing around in bed? And he almost gave in, but ultimately dragged himself to the kitchen to find something to eat. He rummaged through the cupboards when he noticed a small pile of letters on the table that he didn’t recall leaving the night before. His mail that he’d forgotten to get yesterday, he quickly noted. He began to leaf through them, when a small, handwritten note caught his attention. He gently removed it from the rest, instantly recognizing his name scrawled in Marc’s handwriting.
Placing down the other mail back on the table, he tenderly unfolded the note and read:
Jake is right. I don’t appreciate you enough, but I don’t know how to appreciate you, Steven.
It was a simple note, short and to the point, yet it lacked so much that it frustrated Steven. There was no elaboration. What frustrated him the most, though, was the realization that Marc woke up early, wrote the damn note, then tried to hide it in the mail instead of just talking to him.
“I didn’t take you for a coward, Marc,” Steven muttered, his brows creasing as a frown painted itself across his face. “Why can’t you just talk to me like a normal bloody person?!” He threw the note haphazardly onto the table with the rest of the mail, running a hand through his curls. “Let me apologize to you, and we can move on with this-”
“But you aren’t the one who has to apologize!” Marc’s sudden shout caused Steven to jump, and he quickly and desperately scrambled to find something to see him in, settling on their toaster that was in much need of a wipe down. He stared down at Marc, but Marc didn’t look back up at him. Steven didn’t care, though. Although the two shared an appearance, there was something about Marc that was so mesmerizing. The way he carried himself was so distinct, even right now that he was refusing to look at Steven, even if he was just looking at him through the reflection of a toaster covered in fingerprints and a bit of settled dust specks.
“What happened?” Steven dared to whisper. Marc didn’t reply, so he kept talking. “I’m not mad, Marc. I’m not.” He gestured weakly around towards his books that lay around the flat. “I’ll get rid of them for you, we don’t have to fight about it anymore, so please- please don’t leave me alone again.” His voice trembled.
Marc finally looked at him, his gaze intense with emotion and… was that embarrassment? “Don’t get rid of anything, Steven. I shouldn’t have said that, okay?” He shook his head, looking away again.
“What do you want to say then?” Steven gently urged.
“I don’t know.” Marc ran a hand down his face, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I don’t know how to say I’m sorry, okay?” His face tinged a bit as his words came out. “I don’t like to be wrong.” Steven couldn’t help but crack a small smile; he knew that about Marc already, but he hadn’t realized how hard it would be for the other man to apologize. “It’s not that I don’t want to! I just- When I see how disappointed or hurt you get when we fight, I get so pissed off with myself for being the reason that you look that way, that I just- I get so- so-”
“Embarrassed?”
“... Yeah.”
“We can work on it, Marc. Together.” Marc looked at him again, his eyes round with concern and a bit of uneasiness. “I can help you get used to apologizing!” He offered a small smile. “And we can start right now.”
Marc looked like he wanted to argue against it, like his very nature was telling him to fight tooth and nail in order to keep a wall of defense up.
“You don’t have to hide from me, Marc. I like having you around in my life, and I like knowing everything there is to know about you. Even the bad.”
Marc’s tensed jaw relaxed, his gaze softening.
“I’m sorry.”