come_sailaway | sunshine, you're the best time i ever, ever had

Entry tags:

sunshine, you're the best time i ever, ever had

Who: Marc Spector and you
When: Early June
Where: Various locations
Summary: Just trying to get his sea legs, so to speak.
Warnings: Some cursing, some references to substance abuse. Nothing major. Will update later if needed!

I. a little shopping trip

It's the restless urge to be up and doing something that has him browsing through the shop, maybe grabbing a chocolate bar, browsing through the paperbacks. He's not really one to read all that often, but-- there's Steven and maybe he's trying to decide on a book or two to bring back to their cabin and leave inconspicuously on the bed so he can begin hoarding up a new room. It won't be French poetry or books on the Gods, but... honestly. Screw the gods. He'd rather read some trash paperback about some bosomy chick and her dangerous ex-soldier solving some mystery and falling for each other or whatever any day.

When he's not staring down whatever trash novels are in this place, he's plucking up a few extra toiletries on the way out, maybe a few pain meds for any unfortunate hangovers he might acquire along the way.

He might turn a curious eye to anyone who's in there with him and ask, "Does anyone actually see how this stuff's restocked?"

Or who keeps this shit clean and dust free or whatever. Yeah, yeah, ghosts or whatever. But there's got to be more behind it, right?

II. let's hit the sauna

Self-care might come in the form of alcohol and other substances for Marc, maybe the odd brawl here or there, but here he is, trying a little bit of a healthier way at the spa. It's a good thing there aren't any massages -- he'd not be interested in them anyway. But the sauna? Oh, yeah. He can get behind that.

Really get behind it. Marc finds a time when it seems to be empty enough that he can stretch out with his towel spread out over his lap, eyes shut. Fake some of that peace and quiet he's never truly known in his head, maybe.

It's when someone comes in that he seems to go back to alert, sitting up a bit straighter and clearing his throat. "Oh-- uh. Sorry."

He'll even scoot over to give plenty of space to whoever decides to join him.

III. big pills, little pills

Somehow, Marc ends up int he infirmary. Well, not just... by chance. He's curious, just in case he ever needs to perform surprise minor surgery on himself or needs a hit of something stronger when the alcohol isn't enough to knock him out or bury the bad memories.

That doesn't mean he doesn't scowl a bit at some of the-- medieval torture devices, er, medical supplies. "What the fuck is this thing?"

Do they... do they do lobotomies around here still? Bleed people with fucking leeches, what?

But once he finds the pills, he seems to perk up a little bit. "Hey, they got some of the good stuff..."

Guess who's gonna be sleeping a little easier tonight?

IV. tauva

Maybe this isn't his type of joint, generally, but he's finding himself enjoying the atmosphere... and the whiskey doesn't hurt it either. Better than the place that keeps playing Billy Joel too, in his opinion. He might be huffing out a quiet laugh when he picks up a bottle with yet another weird date he's pretty sure is a lie. Whatever. It could have been back from the beginning of time and he's not gonna be choosy.

"Hey," he'll start if he notices someone close enough with an empty glass. "You want a refill?"

Never let it be said he can't be nice on occasion.

V. wildcard

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"Hm?" There's a sleepy grumble, not entirely sure what he's being told to stop, or what's naughty, or what all the wiggling is about. All he knows is he kind of wants to keep sleeping, so his arm just tightens a bit around Steven and he buries his face in against a shoulder--

At least until that shriek of Marc that has him jumping up like they're going to see Harrow himself staring them down at the foot of the bed.

"What? What?"

The hell, Steven.

Steven steals all the blankets, scrambling up to the headboard of the bed, clutching onto the covers tight as he pulls his legs in and stares at the ushabti.

"You brought that into bed with us and tried to stick her up my bum?!" How the hell did Marc even arrive on the ship with anything other than the clothes on his back?

"Did she look up my shirt? Is she in there? Can she hear us! Marc!!" Put the ushabti away!

"What? I didn't try to--" He has no idea what the hell is going on at first besides Steven's freaking out over his ass, his head is throbbing, and he's too hung over to deal with any of this...

But then his eyes drop to the ushabti and oh-- well.

"Calm down!" He's grabbing it up and just... shoving it in a drawer somewhere until he's-- ready to deal with it. How do you even deal with it?

"Hey, now... why do you think I was trying to put anything up your ass, Steven?" Why is that where his mind goes?

"I mean, man, thought you were just joking around about all the kissing stuff..." Maybe Steven's dirtier than he's given him credit for. But on to more important matters.

Like Ammit potentially seeing Steven's nipples peeking up his shirt or whatever he's worried about.

"I don't know, okay? I don't know what it means. It was just on me when I woke up here, then I ran into you and I meant to tell you but then, a lot of other shit happened... and I don't know, man. I wasn't thinking. How am I supposed to know if she can hear us?"

He's not going to try to find out, personally. "But... it's not a bad thing, right? If it's here with us... at least maybe we saved some people. Maybe the doc-- maybe Harrow can't get to it, right?"

Which means Layla is safe and no one's dying and filling up the underworld. They weren't total fuckups. Happy end, right?

"It was right there pressed up against my bum! You pervert!" Steven accuses, shooting Marc a dirty look. He's still glaring warily at the drawer, as though any moment it's going to slide out by itself and dry ice-like smoke will start pouring out of it and Ammit is going to crawl out of the drawer like a cross between The Ring and the genie from Aladdin.

"But-- but-- does that mean we did it?" Did they save the world? If Ammit's down here with them, then Marc's right. Harrow can't unleash her on the world. That means that-- nobody is here because of them. Which doesn't make dying any better, but. Maybe they can feel less guilty about being complete, utter failures at the one task Khonshu had tasked them to do.

"...we did it. We did it!" Steven exclaims excitedly, tossing the blanket off and lunging at Marc, wrapping his arms around low on Marc's back and tackling him down to his side of the bed.

"We saved the world Marc!" Steven doesn't even care if this boat is headed straight to hell. They didn't die for nothing.

"Why do you think I'd try to put that up your ass? I'm all for keeping it safe, but, you know, that's not the best place..." And why does it feel like Steven's more freaked out that it was Ammit and not Marc's-- junk.

"I..." He's hesitant to say yes. What if it's just some cheap imitation? What if it's just here to-- alright, so maybe that's all a little too crazy to entertain. Maybe Marc has just been purposefully looking on the bad side because thinking anything's gone even slightly right is a terrifying thought. Hope is... well, maybe that scares him more than anything else.

But it's easier to buy it when Steven's tackling him back down in his excitement. It's easier to buy that maybe this is the rest they earned. Being dead sucks. Not getting to say goodbye to Layla sucks. But-- she's tough. She can move on, find someone to make her happy. Hopefully.

He hopes so.

And maybe being dead isn't all that bad. It's something he' certainly wished for, even if this isn't how he ever imagined it. He'd always hoped more for nothingness.

But then he wouldn't have Steven on top of him, real enough to hold in return, sharing all that contagious enthusiasm that has Marc feeling excitement for the first time since he's woken up here. He rubs a hand over Steven's back, huffs out a laugh.

"Yeah-- Yeah, we did, didn't we?" Fuck, maybe they really pulled it off, yeah? He can't remember the last time he smiled because he felt it, but when he meets Steven's eyes? There's something like an actual smile cracking his expression.

"I DON'T KNOW MARC, WHY DO YOU PUT ANYTHING UP ANYONE'S ARSE?" Steven asks with his outside voice. He should probably calm down a bit, the neighbours can probably hear the old couple squabbling in here. But he's so worked up and stressed out every time Marc talks about sex. He's died a virgin you know? It's not supposed to be humiliating but here they are! What more could Marc want? For Steven to admit 'That's probably why my bumhole's the safest place, innit? Nobody's ever ventured up in there!'?

Anyway, Steven is too excited about succeeding their mission to really be too bothered by his lack of. Other action. He breathes out a contented little sigh and turns around, nestling back against Marc. He's probably the most unruly little spoon Marc's ever had to deal with but at least he has his moments of calm. Picking up the blanket, he pulls it up to cover them both, shuffling forward a bit to give Marc more space on the bed.

He's still fidgeting, wringing his hands, but he's not overly anxious now. Just keeping his hands occupied, giving himself something to do.

"I don't-- expect we'll go anywhere nice." He can't really look at Marc from this angle, but that doesn't stop him from tilting his head back. Marc can see more of the side of his neck anyway even if they can't meet each other's gaze.

"But if you're right, and we'll be here a while, then maybe we can make this good thing last. I was-- quite enjoying the cuddling. Before you whipped her out."

There's a hissed Steven at the screaming about arses. That's all they need, people to be looking at them like they're in here doing weird ass stuff. And besides, he's not sure how much more screaming his head can really take.

"Probably not," he agrees, much as he wishes he could reassure Steven otherwise. They saved the world, hopefully. In an ideal world, that should get them into the Field of Reeds or somewhere nice, but this isn't an ideal world and... Marc's used to not being that lucky.

But you know what? It could be worse. He's still got Steven right here. They're not alone or separated, and Steven isn't yet screaming about how Marc needs to get out of his life. Quite the opposite really.

He slides an arm cautiously back against Steven and draws him back in against his chest -- careful to make sure Steven's ass isn't anywhere near Marc's crotch in case it makes him freak out again. "Yeah, Steven? Is that what this is... a good thing?"

The cuddling he means. He's not sure if it's-- hurting Steven, keeping him nice and dependent on Marc when he really can go out and live out whatever afterlife they've got for themselves. Marc's also too selfish to let him go. He snorts as he tucks his face in against the back of Steven's shoulder.

"Alright. I won't whip anything else out."

"I think so. I didn't-- I mean, I'd rather be here than be frozen in the Duat. It was so cold..." Steven shudders just thinking about it, and instinctively leans back against Marc, seeking warmth, and comfort. He still can't believe Marc came back for him - and that's despite the fact that the implication that Marc can never again pass through into the Field of Reeds is lost on Steven at this very moment.

"It's our-- last chance, to do anything, on board this ship," Steven murmurs quietly, swallowing hard as he starts plucking at the bedsheets, the blankets, anything to keep his hand occupied.

"I want to be bolder. More-- out there. More like you. I don't want to die not-- well. I don't want to die, but. Here we are. Since we've died I don't want to go not having experienced things, or been too scared to try." His hand drops to where Marc's is, wrapped around his waist. And he touches Marc's hand, running his fingertips over those calloused knuckles idly. Clearly they need to try everything on this boat. Explore every nook and cranny. Sign up for all the excursions. This is the last time he's ever going to-- just live a little. He's glad he got the chance to go to Egypt even though that was where his journey ended. He wants to be glad he got the chance to do other things here, too.

"Yeah..." It's not like he'd tell Steven-- willingly about that. No sense when he made his decision and he doesn't regret it. If they can't both have paradise, then... oh, well. He couldn't have enjoyed it if Steven was lost in the sand, just... nothing.

He lets Steven push back, pull him in tighter. Whatever he wants. He listens quietly to Steven speak, biting back the urge to-- apologize for getting them killed in the first place. He's not sure what he could have done, but he should have figured it out.

He really does wreck lives, doesn't he?

He turns his hand to catch Steven's, holding it loosely, thumb rubbing over the back of it. "Alright," Marc agrees.

Like he could ever say no to Steven. He's spent his whole life trying to protect him, keep him happy. He owes him-- a lot. "Any pressing experiences I can help you with in that case?"

Besides following him into the belly of every excursion, even if it gets them killed ten times over.

Steven doesn't fidget so much anymore with Marc holding his hand. It's-- a little bit intimate. But Steven can't say he doesn't like it... it brings him a lot of comfort, nestled in against Marc like this. It's tempting to just never venture out of the room again if they can just stay like this.

"Wot, are you offering to find me a date?" Steven laughs at the silliness of it. It would just be doubly sad if he needed Marc's help to get even that. "I suppose you do owe me one." After he set up the night out at the steakhouse and then whisked them away for too long.

"It's alright mate. Had enough rejections in life. Imagine being trapped on a boat with somebody you had a disastrous night with; it'd be so terribly awkward..." He clutches Marc's hand a little tighter and pulls it closer to his chest. Marc hasn't raised his voice or told Steven to stop being so clingy yet and maybe Steven's being just a little bit selfish, taking advantage of Marc's deciding to be nice enough to indulge him right now.

"I did sign up for a land excursion though. Be a bit of change of scenery from all this. It sounded like fun."

"You want a date?" Yeah, that gets a laugh out of him. Mostly to cover up the instinctive desire to discourage that or to-- feel weirdly annoyed at the idea. Steven's been his their whole lives and it's... hard to want to share, even if he absolutely should. Steven's wonderful, even under all that awkwardness. Someone'd be lucky to have him.

Marc's lucky to have him. "Why do I owe you a date?"

Yeah, sorry, buddy. He wouldn't have set up a date at a steakhouse for Steven of all people. He has no real clue about that little mishap.

"You said you wanna be more confident, so you've got to stop that," he murmurs, letting Steven have his hand, letting him guide it wherever he wants it. His hand flattens a little against his chest, just-- maybe enjoying the way he can feel Steven's heart beating, feel Steven. The novelty hasn't worn off at all. He shifts a little and lets himself nuzzle in a bit closer, breathe in soap and whatever else Steven's got on himself.

"Yeah, yeah... you're not going alone." Did Steven think for even a moment that Marc wouldn't be right there with him, no matter how bad of an idea he thinks it is?

Steven rolls his eyes although Marc probably can't see it from that angle.

"You ruined the one you set up for me..." He thought Marc wanted him to go on dates? Why would he set something up that he didn't want Steven to go to? Unless he has some sadistic desire to let Steven down and get him yelled at over the phone and nudged at by waiters...

"You know you don't have to-- I'm not saying you were, but you don't have to whore me out. I'd be perfectly happy if you'd just. Spend time with me. And not make me feel like I'm annoying you." Like right now. Now is really nice. Steven is smiling to himself as Marc holds him like a lover, like he's something precious. He's still convinced that this isn't permanent, that he'll end up going back inside Marc at some point maybe when their journey to whatever underworld this boat is taking them to is over. But for as long as he gets to do his own thing without worrying about taking anything from Marc, he's going to try and make the most of it.

"You know I wanted this for you. Out of that dirty, musty old storage unit. Into a proper room. Live a proper life. I mean this isn't my flat, but. This is better than I thought it would be." And he doesn't have to worry about finding another job. It's almost like a proper holiday.

"I didn't set you up, buddy. You must have just forgotten or something. Not-- really something I'd do." He's not sure how he'd forget something like that, but.

"Sorry I messed it up." Mostly. It-- obviously wouldn't have worked out anyway, right? Not where they've ended up.

"I'm not gonna--" whore Steven out. Steven's not anything like him in that regard, he thinks. He wants a relationship, all the romance. Aside from Layla, Marc's been... fine with one night stands and short lived flings. Hell, he hadn't even managed to maintain any sort of marriage with Layla without letting her down in the end.

"You don't annoy me, Steven." He lets out a sigh and presses himself closer, curls around Steven more until he can speak against his ear. Easier to talk with Steven faced away from him.

"I've never had a lot of good things in my life, but-- you've probably been the best. Alright? Getting to see you like this, feel you... man. I can't describe it. I want-- you to get out there and live too. And I want to be there with you-- every step of the way." As much as he can be.

"At least-- as much as you'll let me. Sure you don't want me to vanish still?"

"Mate, I wouldn't have asked someone out to a steakhouse." He'd accommodate what she wanted of course but he'd have at least gone to a place with one vegan option and let her have a pick of everything else on the menu.

"Don't go, Marc." Steven wants to turn around, show Marc how sincere he's being. But he's too comfortable curled in against Marc like this and sometimes it's hard to get so many words out of Marc, he's worried that if he so much as moves his toes, the wind will change direction and Marc will clam up again.

He clutches onto Marc's hand tighter and holds it firmly pressed against his chest. This is about as close as they can be to each other without being-- inside or whatever.

"Should've taken you out on that date instead..." Steven murmurs. "You're a nice bloke, you know." When he's not trying to push everyone away and hurt himself.

"Trust me, I wasn't out setting you up on dates, Steven. Maybe it was one of those assholes you worked with?" Playing some sort of weird, sick prank on him. He wouldn't have put it past a couple of them, he thinks.

Well-- there's no promise that he won't go silent again if Steven doesn't say anything at all. He's probably reached his quota for sentimental chats for a while. Besides, he probably should be getting up now, dragging himself into a shower.

Putting a stop to-- what they're doing right now.

But Marc's too much of an asshole to do that, isn't he? Instead he shifts himself up onto his elbow, even as he lets his other hand stay on the other's chest.

"Well, you know... guess we can arrange it now." It's meant to be a joke, mostly. He's not really a nice guy. Steven should know that... all the blood on his hands, all the mistakes he's made. It's all still there. It's always going to be there, no matter what. Steven's gonna remember that, sooner or later.

"Not like my calendar is full-up or anything."

Steven is so puzzled about the date, but what Marc said makes sense. Someone would prank him to go to a steakhouse. Multiple someones. Although they wouldn't have known he couldn't make it.

His eyebrows rise as he starts to turn over a little bit, better able to see a bit of Marc now that he's propped up.

"Yeah? Would you?" Steven rolls over a bit more. "Dinner tonight? At... 'Q'?" Whatever weird dead people timing that is. "We could-- go to that restaurant. They might serve vegetarian at least."

He's actually not sure what he expected... maybe a nervous laugh or Steven backtracking his words, but-- he seems like he's serious. Like-- he wants it. It's alright if it's-- practice or something, right?

Probably not. But Marc gives a nod of his head yes. "Yeah... alright, Steven, you're on."

He starts to shift back down, shifting slowly on to his back. "And hey, at least it's a guarantee you'll get me into bed after," he jokes.

Steven eventually rolls over, does a 180, and they're not exactly spooning anymore, with Marc lying on his back and Steven sneaking an arm around the front of his chest, sliding one leg in between Marc's. They wouldn't have had to be this close in his flat if they came back from the Duat like this somehow and Marc had to share his bed, but it's been comforting after... well. Everything.

They haven't really talked. About dying. About the things that he'd seen in the psych ward. If he could hold Marc all day and all night and all day and a few nights more, he would. He doesn't expect Marc to talk much during their dinner but at least they can sit together and he can make sure Marc is eating and Steven would be comfortable talking about anything he wants without being worried about crossing lines or looking for common ground.

"I can pull the couch out, if you feel I'm crowding you in. But I like having you close." He feels... safe, somewhat. And Marc could probably use the company. He's not sleeping well either. "I'm worried if I'm still-- doing weird things in my sleep."

One arm is folded behind Marc's head while the other moves to... slowly settle around Steven when he decides to follow him, settle around him. There's a lot they've got to talk about.

But Marc-- doesn't want to talk about the psych ward, or the dying, or... any of it. They'll have to, eventually. He's pretty sure that Steven will bring it up again, whether he wants him to or not. But maybe they can get through dinner and just-- enjoy each other's company. Just not worry for one night. He wants that for Steven at least.

"I didn't say I felt like that, did I?" He's a little worried though -- that he'll have a nightmare, Steven will end up kicked or punched or just have to hear him shout in his sleep. That could be just as true on the pull out couch though, so what's the point in it?

"I won't let you wander off, Steven... you don't need the cuff. Alright?" He shrugs. "Unless you're just into that sort of thing, I guess."

"What? No. That's not-- not me. Well I don't-- know, actually. Haven't... tried. Anything like that. Not sure if I'd like it. Seems like it might hurt. But also be a bit. Fun? Maybe?" Steven clears his throat and tries changing the subject.

"I'm not used to having anyone over, that's all. Let alone in bed. It's a little cozy and... missing a few comforts from home. But-- anyway. You were complaining it was a little cluttered anyway." And Steven... agrees to some degree. He did have a lot of stuff. Thinking about trying to get rid of some of his stuff stressed him out a bit.

This cabin is a little too sterile for him, and probably too cozy for Marc. But maybe they'll be able to find some middle ground here. Steven could maybe just borrow a corner to make himself comfortable in while leaving the rest of the place pristine and ~~lifeless~~ tidy for Marc.

Edited 2022-06-02 06:43 (UTC)

He actually lets out a short chuckle at the response, giving his shoulder a brief, firm rub. Fine-- he'll quit it. Let the guy have a break for a bit. "You'll figure it out."

One way or another. Hopefully.

"A little? Steven, your place is a fire hazard." But if he had it his way, he'd take him back there in a heart beat... even if it meant he'd not-- get to see him like this anymore, couldn't see him outside of a reflection in a mirror. If it meant Steven got to go back to his simple life? Worth it.

But that's not in the cards, so no reason dwelling on wishes that aren't likely to come true. "But you'll get this place lived in, I'm sure... however long we're here."

Guy's got a little bit of a hoarding issue and Marc had being clean and organized drilled into his head in service. It's gonna be-- maybe an issue. "... You were, uh. Pretty pissed at me back at the psych ward, you know," he finally murmurs after a moment.

Even after Steven sacrificing his himself like an idiot for Marc, he hadn't thought-- well, bedsharing was really in the picture.

"It's not! That's so rude. I have a few worldly possessions because I've lived my life, thank you very much!" Maybe he doesn't need a thousand books but he has enjoyed most of them, and he's got a system going on. He knows which shelves contain the books he hasn't read yet and which ones have all his archaeology titles and which one houses his French collection.

Anyway, it's not like he can just start collecting books here again. He'll just have to contend with frequent visits to the library, where he hasn't found any non-fiction titles just yet to satisfy his voracious appetite for learning more and more interesting things about all sorts of different topics throughout history.

"I was. I am. I'm still angry with you." It's a quiet admission, but it doesn't stop Steven from wanting to touch and play with Marc's hand, and wanting to be close to him. Steven sulks about it now just thinking about how lousy Marc made him feel.

"You lied to me. You-- did things to make me think I was crazy, question my reality. All this time I-- I thought-- Look, it doesn't ma'er what I thought. I just-- It would have been better if you were honest. If there was sand on the bed or-- torn blue tape."

"Steven, your entire flat is full of books. When was the last time you even swept, man?" How can he tolerate sand around the bed constant? Possessions are one thing! Being a hoarder is something else entirely.

But he does feel kinda bad that he doesn't have any of his books about gods or archeology or French poetry. He knows how much all that meant to him.

He lets Steven talk for right now, lets him play with his hand "... I thought you were better off if I wasn't in your life."

Maybe it was unfair. Maybe it was cruel... but wasn't he happier, not knowing about Marc? About Khonshu?

"Let's be real here, Steven. You weren't-- wrong about me messing things up for people. Ruining things. I mean, we're dead right now because of me. I just wanted to protect you from all of that."

"There's always room for more books! It's-- triangle-shaped. Corners are naturally harder to get to!" Steven defends himself. He meant to say it's a loft but hopefully Marc gets what he means.

Instead of foisting Marc's hand back at him, grumbling and putting some distance between them, Steven huffs as Marc uses everything he'd said in the heat of the moment against him and just nudges Marc's hand aside gently while he sits up, sliding his arms around his shins as he hugs his knees closer to his chest.

"That's not fair. You can't-- I didn't know. When I said those things." He can't say he didn't mean them at the time - that would be a blatant lie. But if he'd known everything, he wouldn't have said those things. They were really mean things to say to someone and Steven, despite his protestations, doesn't have a single mean bone in his body.

"I didn't need protecting. I'm-- supposed to protect you." Nevermind that Steven would have lost his shit if Marc had been honest about a few things from the get-go. They won't know now, since he never got the chance. How can he protect Marc anyway when Marc doesn't tell him anything?

He rolls his eyes, about to chide Steven for making excuses, but then he's moving.

He sighs when Steven pulls away. He doesn't chase after him though, gives him the space he wants. "I know you didn't know. Just-- makes it all more true, doesn't it?"

If Steven can see what he is without even knowing all the dirty bits of his past. And what does it say about him, when he can make Steven Grant say things like that? He isn't mean. He isn't cruel. It just means that Marc's the problem in this equation.

But that's okay. He's always known that.

He folds his now free arm over his own stomach as he watches Steven. "You've-- protected me a lot, Steven. You don't even realize."

It's just a little-- uncomfortable knowing he won't be able to check out ever now, not the way he was when they shared a body. It's unsettling that he'll have to deal with everything and not just shove it unfairly off on Steven when he needs a break. Daunting. Terrifying.

At least he's got him in other ways still. For now, anyway. "I feel safer with you than I do anybody else, Steven. It's not because you're a fighter or whatever. It's because you're just.. you."

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