Marc’s thoughts were all over the place, he couldn’t think properly. All he knew was that he needed to get away from Arthur’s presence, so he did. Running along the sickeningly white corridors of the supposed mental institute he’s in, he hears shouts coming from behind him and quickens his pace, stumbling onto a room which had no furniture but the single sarcophagus resting on the floor.
Cautiously, he inched towards it, but he recoils once muffled screams started echoing from the tomb itself. Warning signs went off in his head, but against his better judgement, he opens it to reveal..
“Steven?”
Is what he wanted to say, except Marc’s words died in his throat. Steven, he’s here, he’s real. How this is possible, he had no idea, yet he watched as the man scrambled around, grappling at the walls, trying to ground himself before his eyes landed on Marc’s stunned form.
“Marc?”, the man whispers, breathless.
“Steven-“, Marc’s eyes widen as Steven launched himself onto his arms. He heard Steven make a noise of surprise which quickly devolved into muffle cries on the side of his neck. Marc feels the way Steven’s fingers tighten on the cheap fabric of his sweater.
Steven pulls away, “H-how is this possible?”
“I don’t know”, Marc admits, hands flinging upwards, assessing Steven’s form. Good, he wasn’t injured, just shaken up. “I don’t know but Steven we really have to get out of-“
Familiar lips crashed onto his, breaking the train of sentences he was trying to formulate. His hands fell to his sides and his breathing came to a halt. Steven pull away a second later, a terrified expression on his face that Marc decided he didn’t like at all.
“I- Oh god”, Steven runs a hand through similar, dark curls, “Oh gods- Marc, I’m so sorry I-“, he was backing up now, Marc’s going to lose him- “This was a mistake, I just kissed your wife and now I’m-“
“Steven, Steven”, Marc speaks soothingly, sliding down onto the floor holding Steven’s hands in his, “Calm down please, I need you to breathe.”
Steven does not breath, in fact, it’s as if he hadn’t heard Marc’s instructions at all. He just continued dry heaving and choking on nothing. Out of desperation, Marc places his hands on Steven's shoulders and engulfs him in a hug, hoping that it calms his alter down. "It's alright, it's alright, breathe, that's it."
When Steven is finally able to breathe correctly, he detaches himself from Marc and lets his head remain bowed, refusing to look at Marc whose eyes burned holes on the top of his head. He fucked up, oh god he was so stupid, this wasn't supposed to happen
"Steven!", Marc calls out, gently cradling Steven's face with his hands, "It's alright, I don't hate you."
"But you should", Steven says shakily, eyes darting everywhere, "I kissed your wife and, well, we haven't really talked about that yet, but now I k-kissed you too and I- I can't", Marc resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead, does something Steven would have not expected in a million years.
Marc presses his lips against Steven's. And Steven falls apart.
"You need to stop talking", Marc says once they pull away, frowning when he notices the tears falling from Steven's eyes, "Hey, why are you crying?"
"You really aren't mad at me?"
Marc rolls his eyes and wipes the tears from Steven's cheeks, “I already told you, I'm not", he studies his face and smirks, “If you wanted another one you could just ask."
If Steven was red before, he just turned into a fucking tomato. Steven started stammering out excuses until Marc kisses him again, and everything he had to say didn't matter.
"Come on", he rasped out, standing up and holding a hand out for Steven, "We can make out once we get the hell out of here."
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