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When Marc fell asleep, he knew that Steven was tucked safely away and resting. He drifts off and dreams of the peace that emanated from the Field of Reeds.
When Marc wakes up, he’s on his right side, mind surprisingly still. He awoke early morning, darkness still looming and conscious half full. Searching his mind, Marc comes up empty handed. It isn’t until he realizes he feels a looming presence behind him that he’s snapped out of it.
He carefully turns onto his back, scared to death as to what could possibly be next to him in bed. His eyes are shut as he turns his head in the direction of the person and when he opens his eyes, his heart skips a beat.
Steven? Is that really you? I’ve missed you so much…
It’s almost like he can’t believe it. He doesn’t know how to process this. When he reaches out, Steven begins to disappear and fade into darkness. Marc’s eyes tear up as he sits up in a panic.
“Ah!”
Marc finally opens his eyes and heaves in air as if he’s just been drowning.
His hair is a mess, sweat down his temple, and sheets crumpled and splayed every which way.
It was a dream. It felt so real…
The tell tale sign of Steven protruding to consciousness evades his mind and Marc rubs at his eyes.
“Marc, we alright?” Steven’s British accent is thicker now than usual having just woken up. After no response, Steven starts to worry. “Oi… did you have a bad dream?”
“Mmm…” The grunt Marc gives in response does little to put Steven at ease. Marc can’t figure out why he dreams of his alter sleeping next to him, why he dreams of waking up next to him. Of course he wants to be able to hug Steven again, but sleeping in the same bed? Might be a bit too personal, he thinks for Steven. Mark is okay with it, but he doesn’t want to weird out Steven.
God, why is he even thinking about it this deep? It’s not like it’s gonna happen. He’s never gonna be in the same room as him again…
“I’m fine, go to sleep, Steven.”
“Well alright. Sleep tight.”
-
Their alarm went off and Steven fronted. Rubbing his eyes, he went straight to the bathroom to get himself ready for his shift at the museum today. After he fought as Mr. Knight, he’s gained a new sense of self-security. He marched back to the museum and explained his case. There’s no proof he physically broke anything and he came out without a scratch. He also claimed his knowledge of Egyptology and how his wits prove to be an asset to their tour guide team.
Simply stated, he won them over and has now worked there for the six months since they’ve returned from Cairo. It’s been a bit rocky, managing his schedule with Marc’s nightly desires to organize and clean up Steven’s mess of an apartment.
Steven decided to shave this morning and he takes his time getting every nook and cranny on his face. Unbeknownst to Steven, Marc was watching. He did this before Cairo, as his way of keeping tabs on his other. It’s mostly through reflections that he can watch but sometimes if he concentrates hard enough, he can see through his own eyes as Steven fronts, seeing whatever Steven does.
This is something that Marc likes to do. He likes to observe Steven when he thinks no one else is looking, to see what kind of person he really is. Marc knows it’s wrong and he shouldn’t do it, but something inside Steven calls to Marc. One could say he has an infatuation with Steven, but Marc thinks it’s natural, to want to get to know and understand the better part of oneself.
Steven finishes and jumps in the shower. That’s when Marc draws the line. He refuses to watch Steven in those extremely personal moments, times where no one but Steven and whoever gives permission to be present and watching. Marc feels a pang in his stomach at the thought of never being one of those people and he retreats back to sleep.
It isn’t until Steven grabs his new bag for work and heads to the front door when Marc makes himself known.
“Hey, buddy. Off to work?” A buzzing feeling fills Steven’s head when Marc joins in. It slowly settles down when Steven answers.
“Yeah. Took you long enough, I was beginning to worry,” a frown dawns the Brit’s face and Marc feels bad.
“Hey, I‘ll always be here… Unfortunately…” Marc trails off and if he wasn’t in Steven’s head, it wouldn’t have been heard.
“What do you mean, ‘unfortunately’?” Steven asks with insecurities lacing his tone.
“I just mean that I want you to be able to live your own life,” he sighs, “You can’t do that if I’m in your head and share a body with you.”
“Marc- that’s-“ he can’t form words as he exits and locks their door. “You know I love our life, and thanks to you, I wouldn’t be here.” A pause of silence as sand dunes and dark skies flash through his memory. “You’ve done more than enough, mate,” Steven sounds so sincere and Marc wants to believe it, but Steven won’t be independent and it kills him. Despite Steven literally telling him, Marc doesn’t accept it as the truth. He could always do more for Steven.
“I dont know-“
“Marc.” Steven’s voice is firm and unrelenting. It snaps Marc out of his infatuation. “Stop. There’s nothing we can do to separate us. I know you want out more than I do, I’m sorry you’re stuck with me. I wish I could do something- anything, but I can’t.”
Fuck. This isn’t what Marc wanted, he didn’t want Steven to start his day out this way. He can’t manage to say anything and he disappears, back into subconscious, feeling as shitty as ever. The last thing he wanted was for Steven to think he wants to simply get rid of him, but he knows now isn’t a good time to argue. He’s shutting down, unable to communicate how intense he feels over wanting to give Steven the world.
The worst part is, Steven doesn’t try to get him back to his consciousness. He gets to work and clocks in, tours the guests over and over for hours, all while Marc ponders his situation. He doesn’t know why he focuses on Steven so much. His alter doesn’t give him the same treatment, for reasons unknown, but more so loves his life.
It’s not like they don’t know each other, they do. Marc just can’t figure out why Steven makes him feel the way he does, whatever it is.
It’s a struggle, trying to keep Steven at bay, and not overwhelm him with protection and security. Especially when Marc knows Steven can handle himself %100. It makes Marc sad, to be honest, that Steven is the better part of himself and more.
Now he really doesn’t need Marc as well as thinking that Marc doesn’t want him anymore.
-
Steven is a star at the museum. After all the day's tours, the Brit rests in the staff break room on his phone and sipping water. Dylan comes in, eyes bright and smile wide.
“Hiya, Steven. Heard you rocked it today with your groups,” she winks as she opens the fridge and grabs her soda.
“Yeah,” Steven adds with emotion. “I do my best and I'm so happy people love it… I feel like I’m really at my highest right now,” a smile twinning Dylan’s marks on his face.
“I’m glad you’re doing much better,” Dylan says, flirting with him as she sits next to him and scoots impossibly closer.
Oh… That’s why she’s been kind to me.
“Oh, hey there…” Steven mumbles as he leans in the opposite direction of her. Marc is watching, something boiling in his stomach at the sight of Dylan. He doesn’t want her in this room anymore, but this is one of those moments where Steven doesn’t know he’s watching.
“I’ll take you up on that steak one more time,” she slides a hand over Steven’s upper thigh with a smirk and it makes Steven recoil. He jumps from his seat and grabs his water.
“Oi! No funny business Dylan!” he furrows his brows and shakes his head, much to her dismay. “I’m not interested, no thanks,” he explains as he heads out the door to retrieve his bag and leaves his shift.
Marc evades Steven’s consciousness for seemingly the first time since their argument this morning.
“Is everything okay? What happened?” Anger suppresses feigning innocence.
“Yeah, I just don’t like Dylan anymore…” Sadness bleeds through his voice and he remains silent on their way back to the apartment.
-
Steven never offered the full story on what happened with Dylan and Marc never pried. If he wasn’t watching he never would know and it’s going to stay that way, he’s not going to pry. He really doesn’t want to upset the Brit more than he already is.
“Hey Steven?” Marc inquires from their consciousness.
“Yeah?”
“Can I front for a bit? I think you could use some rest…” he’s met with little resistance as he pushes forward and the switch is seamless. Steven is grateful for the offer and Marc automatically feels him drift out of consciousness and into their headspace.
Marc wants to make sure Strven knows he cares. He’s not the best at communicating and he wants to make sure that the Brit knows he’s always here for him.
Tea brews and crumpets are placed nicely on a plate on the table with a lit candle next to it. Once the tea is finished he puts it in Steven’s favorite cup and sets on cleaning the kitchen. He knows Steven always waits for it to cool down before he takes a sip.
Marc goes into autopilot cleaning the small clutter that’s amounted on the counters. Steven’s been fronting more and Marc doesn’t mind, but he notices when it gets dirty. He washes the dishes, puts away appliances, and wipes counters. By the time he’s done, Steven comes prodding back. He quickly moves to sit at the table and feels the Brit take over.
“Thank you for letting me rest, Marc-“ he pauses as he sees the little set up from his alter. “Did you do this?” His voice is in a higher pitch full of admiration, at least Marc hopes. He knows he would be smiling like a fool if he could.
“Yeah, I wanted to apologize for this morning.” Marc sounds sincere. “I would want to have anyone else in my head other than you.”
“Marc… This is so nice of you, although a simple ‘I’m sorry’ would suffice,” Steven is lighthearted about the situation and clearly doesn’t take it the same way as Marc. Marc is really, really sorry. Steven being the person he is, would never be upset at something like that for too long and so apologies come and go.
“Okay, Steven.”
“Is something wrong?” Steven asks after he sips the tea. He looks behind him and notices the clean kitchen. “Oh my days! You’ve outdone yourself Marc!” He catches a reflection of Marc who smiles proudly. They meet eyes and a warm feeling floods Steven’s stomach. “Thank you, I forgive you, of course.”
“I mean, I totally thought you were never gonna speak to me again-“
“Shut up you twat.”
They both laugh together and talk about Steven’s day. Marc loves to hear about Steven’s special people from his tours, it makes him admire the Brit even more.
“This kid comes up to me and asks about Ammit- I know, scary- and he looked so innocent and curious so of course I couldn’t break his poor heart,” Steven is animated, speaking passionately to Marc through a mirror they had left on the counter which Steven had brought so they could talk. “So I go ‘Oh Ammit? Yea she’s just a grumpy ole crocodile and likes to be super super judgmental of people’ and he laughs! He said she reminds him of her older sister! Boy if only she was really that simple…” Steven trails off and Marc listens intently.
He treasures these moments, where he gets to hear Steven’s thicker accent come out when he rambles and how sweet he is when he talks to kids. That feeling comes back in Marc’s gut.
“You’re so great with kids,” Marc says as Steven reaches up and scratches the back of his neck.
“Oh yeah, I suppose so. I just refuse to tell them the truth, ya know, since we’re laying low…”
“Also they wouldn’t believe us if we told them what happened,” Marc comments, “They’d just throw us in a looney bin!”
Steven scoffs and nods, continuing talking about his day and he begins to unbutton his button up he wore for his shift. Marc can’t help but let his eyes trail down, down, down. Where Marc lets his hair grow, his alter chooses to be shaven and although they switch control over the body, it’s not the same image as if Marc were to be looking at himself. He supposes that’s the problem.
“Marc? Have I lost you?” The Brit asks as he sets his arms down at his side, oblivious as to why Marc is zoned out. “Are you tired? I’m sorry I’ve been rambling-“
“No,” the American snaps his gaze back up to his alter. “I like listening to you, Steven.”
“Oh,” Steven looks anywhere but at the mirror, “well, alright. I think that’s enough for today. Let’s eat, yeah?” He gets up and goes to the closet and picks sweats and a long sleeve, “Vegan burritos?” Steven asks with a grin.
Marc’s heart throbs at the fact that Steven doesn’t understand how much he means to him.
-
Steven strolls down the street later that week on a breezy Saturday, just to get out of the attic. He passes by the familiar square where he used to visit the living statue and hypothesize about why he loses week days and how can he ever have someone over with the state of his flat?
A fond smile washes over the Brit’s face and he holds his tea tighter in his hand. He’s making his way to a cute little pond where he likes to see the little ducklings swim with their mother.
“Back here again?” The little American man inside his head chimes.
“I haven’t checked in on them for a while, I miss them. The last time I visited was before Cairo…” The smile fades as he sits down on an old bench in front of the joyous ducklings.
“Oh, I can leave and give you your time alone if you’d like?” Marc tries to sound sympathetic, he knows Steven doesn’t really enjoy many memories from before Cairo but this is one of the few.
“No, please stay,” Steven says so earnestly it makes Marc’s heart ache. “You know I enjoy your company.”
“Even if it makes you look weird talking to yourself?” Marc jokingly questions, as per usual.
“I wanted to show you, actually,” the Brit digs through his tote bag and produces wired headphones. “I thought I’d just plug these in and it’ll look like I'm on the phone! Brilliant, eh?” He’s beaming and it’s the cutest thing Marc’s seen all week.
“What will I ever do without your amazing ideas, Steven?” Marc giggles and Steven assembles his get up and from the reflection of the pond, Marc can see how normal he looks with the wires hanging from his ears and the mic just below his mouth. “You look totally natural!”
“I knew you’d like it,” and Steven surveys how everyone just passes by not minding his presence one bit.
“I wish…” Marc begins but trails off, deciding Steven doesn’t need to hear it.
“You wish what, now?” The alter’s response comes quickly. “You better tell me or no beer for a week!”
“Fine,” Marc rolls his eyes as if Steven would really do that to him. “I just wish I was there with you.”
A silence fills the air that’s neither uncomfortable nor comfortable. Marc doesn’t know what to say because he didn’t even want to say it at all.
“I wish we could have stayed in the Duat…” Steven speaks so quietly that if Marc wasn’t in his head, he wouldn’t have caught it.
“What?”
“I miss being able to have you by my side, is all. I wish I could at least give you a hug every now and then…” The Brit sounds sad and remorseful. Marc is shocked to be hearing this, considering Steven doesn’t talk much about how he feels about what happened in Cairo.
“Really?” a hum is his response. “I didn’t know you felt that way,” Marc wants to jump and shout in happiness but he can’t. This is serious to Steven. “I wish we could be together again…”
They fall in a comfortable silence and Marc’s mind can’t help but race. Steven wants me next to him? He wanted me to hug him? He wants me? It’s hard to believe, he guessed Steven really doesn’t want to rid himself of the American living in his head. Marc’s heart swells.
“I-“ Marc hesitates, “I really like you Steven. I’m glad it’s you who I have with me.”
“Marc…” Steven almost whines out his name and it does things to Marc that he can’t help. “I’m glad to have you too.”
-
The tours today weren’t as entertaining as usual, Steven typically gets lively groups of kids and young adults but today he had a group of senior citizens.
“And over to our left, we have the Ushabti’s of older gods, to our right we have the sarcophagus of-“
Someone bumps into him, brushing by and cutting off his guiding. Clearly, they aren’t interested in listening to what he has to say so he remains silent, letting the group of grouchy old farts guide themselves.
“Piss off old sods…” Steven scowls and goes to look at the fine detail of the sarcophagus. He hears Marc laughing quietly. Steven looks around making sure no one is really paying attention. “Oi, quit having a laugh, they’re miserable!” He whisper yells at his reflection from the glass where he sees Marc.
“Hey it’s not my fault they pushed you,” Marc’s laughter dies down. “Just push em back!” He replies with a shrug of his shoulders and Steven guffaws.
“Yeah, that’s why I work at the museum, not you,” he grins and turns his attention back to the sarcophagus. It reminds Steven of the Duat and the extra sarcophagus in one of the rooms they passed by on their way though. They’ve never talked about it, but hey? No better time than the present. “Hey mate? What’s going on about that red sarcophagus from the mental asylum of the Duat?”
The silence was deafening. Marc’s mouth stayed open, stuttering and struggling to decide on what to say. He was nervous, Marc doesn’t Talk About Things.
“I- uh- um- well-“
“Jesus, Marc, it’s not that deep. You can answer the question later,” Steven whips his head around as he watches the elderly group migrate to the next room. “I‘m almost done here anyway. Laters gators…”
That left Marc speechless. He doesn’t really know who the red sarcophagus belongs to, at least he’s never been aware of anyone else besides Steven. He doesn’t know what to say.
-
Sure enough, Steven meanders them to their flat after he gets his usual salad from his favorite vegan food truck on the way home. It’s been quiet, no one has said a word.
“You can answer now, Marc,” goes Steven in a firm tone.
Silence follows.
“I can feel you in our head, I’m not daft.”
“Steven…”
“We’re not talking about anything else until you tell me what you know.” Steven is tired of playing games. “I’m not some ex of yours or an estranged family member- We’re partners and you’re stuck with me. So start acting like it and tell me the truth. No lies, I won’t have it!” He’s unrelenting and it makes Marc cringe. Why would he say ex? He’s not comparing himself to Layla is he?
“In all honesty, Steven, I don’t know. I was just as shocked as you to find out there is a third of me who takes control when I can’t handle things. It sucks to say it but I needed him to take over in those situations; we almost died.” Marc is panting and out of breath, he said so much in one fell swoop, it just sort of came out. He feels awkward because Steven won’t look at his reflection from where he stands in the open space between the bookshelves looking at Marc in the tiny bathroom mirror.
“You really don’t know?” Steven brings his right hand up to scratch at the back of his head as he ponders.
“Jesus- No, Steven. If I did there would be no hiding it either. Not with you prodding and all that,” Marc exhales into a laugh and it causes Steven to grin.
“Alright, sod off. I just…” The Brit trails off and Marc really doesn’t know what he’s gonna say.
“What, Steven?” Kindness fills Marc’s voice after such conversation, it’s as if they never had conflict for half of the day.
“C’mon ba-“ Nope, don’t say it. “C’mon buddy, spit it out.”
“I just don’t want to get left behind with a new person in our heads, is all…” Insecurities lace Steven’s voice as he completely avoids eye contact and fidgets with his hands.
Oh.
“Steven, I’d never forget about you,” the American sounds almost hurt, offended at the fact that Steven would suggest anything of the such. “You’re the brains here, you’d forget me first anyway,” Marc teases, and it only sets off Steven more.
“No! That’s not true!” The Brit’s eyes are wide and he’s heated. “I don’t know what I’d do without you-“
“Really?”
“Yeah, you’re stuck with me…” Another bit of silence passes and they merely stare at each other.
“You know I don’t see us like that, right?” Steven’s demeanor changes to a softer tone and his eyes soften. A warm smile spreads across his face.
“Well, how do you see it?” Marc inquires, hopeful and bright. They don’t break eye contact and it’s mesmerizing. Steven walks to a full size mirror by the bed they recently purchased. He sits down and faces it.
“Marc-“ Steven hesitates, “You’re aces,” the Brit says plainly and Marc can tell he’s being shy.
The American crosses his arms and smirks. So that’s how he wants to play this out…
“Just aces?” Marc cocks an eyebrow and puts on his best smile. “I’d like to think I’m more than that, no?”
“Of course you are!” Steven giggles, “You’re strong and tough but deep down I know you’re a big sofite!”
“Me??? Sofite? Never!” Marc exclaims and now they’re flirting, he knows it for a fact. “Now, strong, I can get behind.” Marc flexes a bicep and Steven stares with bright eyes.
“Yeah mister tough guy?” Steven challenges, “You made me tea and cleaned the whole kitchen when I was minutely upset,” now it’s his turn to smirk while Marc focuses on anything other than Steven.
“I’d only ever do that for you, Steven,” Marc’s voice lowers and when he looks back at Steven, his eyes are hooded and he leans forward.
Marc’s image stirs something inside of Steven. Fire shoots straight through his gut and Steven throws his head back.
“Marc…” he drags out the ‘A’. “What are you doing?” Steven tries to act clueless but it’s not convincing anyone and he knows it. What exactly is Marc doing? He’ll have to find out.
“I’m just telling you how much you mean to me,” a beat passes, “it’s a lot, Steven.” This causes the Brit to look back and Marc’s pupils are blown and his shirt collar is unbuttoned, hair a mess.
“You look really good right now…” Steven gives in. He can’t pretend like he isn’t completely enamoured by Marc anymore. He’s tried, thinking it’s wrong but they’re two different people. What’s the point? Marc is right there everytime he tries to deny it telling him how much he likes him and doesn’t wish for anyone else. “I like it when you tell me how much you like me.”
“Baby…” Marc growls low and feral. He’s done prolonging their friendship. He’s aroused now, what with Steven’s arms propped up on the bed behind him, head ripped back exposing his neck and his legs spread to the sides.
“Mmm, Marc I wish you were here right now…” Steven palms himself, clearly hard.
“The things I’d do to you… What I’ve been wanting to do to you…” Marc has shoved a hand down his pants now. He groans at initial contact with himself.
“Fuck, Marc, tell me,” Steven mirrors him. It’s surreal, jerking off to his alter and talking to a mirror. He doesn’t care, he's so horny from Marc’s voice that it doesn’t matter. All their pent up emotions laid out bare for them both to see.
“Oh god, I wanna fuck you so hard, until you can’t even scream anymore,” Marc stares into Steven’s eyes and he flushes when he looks down to see his second part unzipping his pants. “Yeah, take it out Steven, I want to see you pleasure yourself to me.”
“Bloody hell, I want you so bad,” Steven gasps as his cock springs out of his pants and underwear.
“I’d turn you on your stomach and take you from behind,” Marc groans at the thought and Steven whimpers as he begins to jerk. “Fuck you so deep you can’t even beg for it anymore.”
“You want me to beg you for it,” Steven challenges, the twat that he is. He smirks at Marc.
“i’m gonna make you beg me for it, baby,” Marc is sure of himself and is unrelenting. Steven gives in.
“Fuck Marc, fuck me!”
“I will, baby, one day, but for now I want you to cum for me, make a mess of yourself” Marc edges Steven toward his finish.
“Bloody- fuck!”
Steven cums, staining his pants and covering his hand. All Marc has to do is look at Steven still lazily jerking to be close. He finishes when he sees the build up of cum in between Steven’s fingers. They’re both panting now and winding down.
“You’re so hot,” the American praises the Brit, out of breath and full glory out, softening.
“If I’m hot, you’re burning, love.”
After they cool down, Steven discards their belongings and heads to the shower. They share soft looks like lovesick fools and lay down once they finish, only clad in a pair of black boxers.
Steven looks back over to the same mirror once he’s settled.
“I’ve dreamed about this,” Marc trails off. He revived a puzzled look from Steven and feels obligated to continue. “Most of my dreams consist of me waking up next to you, thinking we’re together in the real world. I’m glad we’re at least together and in the real world.” A lazy smile covers Marc's face as he closes his eyes and drifts off.
“I’m glad, too.” Steven’s heart warms at the thought of Marc dreaming of him in this way. He would want that to happen and it’s endearing that he’s waited this long to tell him. “I wouldn’t mind waking up next to you, love.”
Then they drift off to sleep.