a/n: This chapter is a bit ✨spicy✨ so if it's not your thing, skip ahead to Chapter 10!
Being pressed up against Marc for five hours without a break was great, but you didn't dare tell him that. You wondered how he didn't get tired with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. But he seemed fine, save the fact that he'd barely said a word to you, except for occasionally checking your comfort. His arms held you tightly, hands splayed across your back, and you almost fell asleep listening to his steady heartbeat.
When you landed in Cairo, he led you through the streets like they were more familiar than London, to a small hotel he'd obviously frequented before as the owner gave him a friendly nod and handed him a key without so much as a question.
"I've always wanted to go to Egypt," you said, giddily pushing the curtain opens to your room. You didn't get much of a response from Marc as he threw a rucksack on the bed, and further frowned as he chose to ignore you. You decided to let him cool off for a minute; you knew he wasn't happy with you being in Cairo. You weren't sure why, but hoped that in time he'd be more accustomed to you. You sat out on the balcony for a while, watching the crowds, until the heat got the better of you and you had to seek refuge in the air conditioned room.
You pushed yourself through the curtains and let out a surprised, "huh," coming to a realisation as you watched Marc do a row of push ups.
"What?" he asked.
"I always wondered how Steven had abs." Marc raised his eyes at you, his bare abs flexing slightly. "What? Steven's never exercised a day in his life. I'm not flirting. It's an observation... that I would like to keep observing."
"You don't even know me," he said, stopping immediately and standing up. You were taken aback. You didn't think he'd react in such a way.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it," you apologised immediately. "It's just, it's gonna take me a little time to get my head around the two people, one body thing."
"For fucks sakes y/n, why are you even here?" he asked suddenly, and the blunt change of subject made you stutter.
"I... I just -"
"-Wanna support Steven, I know, but I'm not Steven. He's not here right now. So why are you?"
"Why are you so angry?"
"Because of you," he shouted. "You shouldn't be here. It's not safe, and all you're gonna do is get hurt, and I don't wanna... I can't... fuck!" He swung his arm out emphatically and it hit the table, sending it crashing to the ground. You jumped backwards and tears sprung to your eyes, the noise bringing back memories you hadn't thought of in a while. Memories that you'd once confided in Steven about, and so presumed that Marc knew. His eyes instantly softened and took a step towards you but you backed away.
"Don't," you begged. "Please don't." Marc, looking suddenly angry at himself, slowly lifted the table, and moved away.
"I'm sorry baby," Marc said, sitting on the floor, resting his back against the bed. You were angry, but you couldn't blame him.
"It's okay," you decided, taking a deep breath. "I'm uh... I'm gonna take a shower," you said, unwilling to sit through Marc's rage. You knew he meant you no harm, and couldn't begin to understand what it must be like to have to people sharing one mind. You walked quickly the bathroom, shutting the door quietly. You took a shower – a long, long shower – hoping that Marc would be calmer when you were done. You didn't know what warranted such anger. You knew that you could be a help to him, and wished he'd see it that way.
When the shower water ran cold, you threw on a long t-shirt – one of Steven's to find comfort from him when he couldn't be with you – and it fitted like a dress. Then you tousled your hair until it was vaguely dry, and left the bathroom. Marc was still sprawled across the floor and you wandered past, slightly opening the curtains and admiring the view of the great pyramids. You heard Marc sigh, and turned.
"What's wrong..." you asked, "baby?" Marc's eyes peaked up at the pet name and he tensed, his abs flexing slightly. It was something he'd called you a few times – endearing in the way Steven called you love and you called him sweetheart. But when you said it, there was the suggestion of something more. You'd meant it flirtatiously and he knew. You sat yourself down by his side.
"Nothing," he said, taking another swig from the bottle in his hand. God he was giving you mixed signals. On the one hand, he was sat, stretched out and basking in the evening Egyptian light in nothing but his boxers, and you'd noticed (it wasn't unobvious) how close his hand rested to the bulge beneath. He was big. A few times he'd flexed his fingers, brushing across it, and you'd had to turn away to avoid him seeing you blush. He was sculpted like Davinci himself had put a chisel to his skin and then bronzed it to perfection. But, despite the provocative position he had no intention of moving from, he was barely talking, and when he did, his answers were short and snappy.
"It doesn't seem like nothing," you said, snatching the bottle from his hand and taking a swig. Whiskey. Disgusting. You made a gagging noise and he smirked as you gritted your teeth and swallowed, watching as you rested your head back against the bed. "What?"
His smirk faded and he took back the bottle, drumming his fingers on his v-line. "Nothing," he said again, taking another shot and putting the bottle down on his right side, away from you. You fell quiet, drawing your eyes quickly away from his body when he caught you staring, and looked out the window as the sun fell slowly behind the pyramids. You could feel his eyes on you, and it was making you hot. Eventually, you couldn't take the silence any longer.
"Why are you sitting on the floor when there's perfectly comfortable furniture?" you asked him, shifting uncomfortably as the wooden slats provided no luxury, unlike the sheets that beckoned you.
"I'm happy on the floor."
"Suit yourself, I need comfort," you said, going to stand. As you turned towards him to push yourself up, Marc reached out and grabbed the back of your thigh and pulled you over him, and then his hands were on your waist, pushing your hips downwards, forcing your legs apart until you were kneeling over his lap in a wide split. Your knee knocked the bottle over, what little alcohol left spilling across the floor. You gasped, feeling him growing hard; throbbing beneath you as he held you tightly against him. A small groan escaped his lips; you knew he could feel your heartbeat quicken.
"Comfortable?" he asked, barely a whisper.
Your breath hitched in your throat and your hands instinctively travelled to his shoulders as you thought of what to say. So many thoughts were running through your head. "That was a waste of alcohol," you stuttered, your voice barely functioning as he slowly rolled his hips, grinding himself against you. You gasped slightly again, leaning your forehead against his as you put your hands on top of his as they clutched your thighs, fingers slipping through his.
"That doesn't matter," he muttered and you nodded. Your heavy breathing elicited a reaction from Marc and he smirked, holding you still as you tried to grind your hips forward, your core aching for him. You whined as he rubbed his thumbs in concentric circles into your hips, travelling lower with each circle. The feeling of his fingers on your bare skin made you moan.
"Marc," you whimpered.
"Yes, baby?" he purred, but you had no following remark, and Marc chuckled. "D'you know how long I've been watching you through Steven's eyes?" he asked. You shook your head, breath shaky, and as you ran your fingernails over his chest, his throaty moan sent you spiralling. You tugged at the waistband of his boxers and then let it snap back and his grip tightened, fingerprints leaving a mark. The thin piece of fabric was the only thing between you and him, and it was quickly soaking through.
"How long?" you breathed.
"So long," he muttered as his hands found their way beneath your shirt. He ran his fingers up and down your sides and you shivered at his touch. Then his hand reached up to the back of your head, and he leaned forward suddenly, pushing you on the rug and lying on top of you, his fingers tangled in your hair.
"Can I..." he trailed off, his eyes flickering down to your lips then back up to your eyes as he stared at you with a hunger you'd never seen. You took your time in answering, listening to him pine for you, the hand that cushioned your head tugging at your hair.
"Please," you eventually said and his lips were on yours. He kissed you gently at first, but as you opened your mouth he kissed you with more hunger, more passion, his hands roaming across your body like it was the first and last time he could ever touch you. You trailed your hands downwards, palming him through his boxers and the feral groan he released made your eyes roll back in your head. He kissed down your jaw, down your neck, and just as he reached down to pull the t-shirt over your head, something made him freeze. You whined as his lips parted from your body, tugging gently at the hair on the back of his neck.
"I can't," he said softly, crawling off of you, his eyes glancing shamefully at the mirror. You looked into it.
You saw Steven in the reflection, sheets draped around his unclothed body. "y/n," he said sadly, and you turned yourself to him.
"Him," Marc said. "He's what's wrong."
"I don't... I don't understand," you said, and then your eyes widened as you thought you realised the reason he didn't want you to continue. "Oh, Steven. I'm so sorry sweetheart. I should have considered you're in the same body, and even if Marc wants this, you might not. Oh God," you said, pressing your face to your hands. "I should've asked for consent first. I swear I'd never hurt you... touch you without your permission –"
"- hey," Marc said, shaking his head. "Don't worry baby girl, you've got it all wrong."
You paused. "I have?"
"You wanna tell her, or shall I?" Marc asked, and Steven, red as a tomato, motioned for him to continue. "He loves you, y/n," he said, "and through all my time watching you, so do I. But I don't wanna hurt him. He wants to be with you."
You looked back at the mirror and Steven couldn't meet your eye. "Steven," you coaxed, crawling towards it until your hand was on the glass. "Please talk to me. Is he right?"
"Of all the times I've imagined this... us, together, this isn't how I thought it would be. I thought I would be in control of my own body," he admitted. "I'd take you on a date first, to the planetarium of something; we'd have a nice dinner, walk by the river, go to a carnival. Then we'd come back and... Innit obvious love? I've loved you since the moment we met, but I didn't wanna push you into anything, I... I like our friendship." He met your eye. "I get if you want him. He's prob'ly more experienced anyways."
"No Steven," you said, and then you looked at Marc who was beginning to seem just as hurt as Steven was. "I... it's hard, you've both gotta understand that," you explained. "Because Steven, I love you more than words can say, but also... Marc, I know I haven't known you long but I like you a lot. And I know that's wrong because despite the same body, you're different people." You glanced between them, and felt a huge weight of relief lift from your chest as the two of them nodded.
"You really love me too?" Steven asked and you nodded eagerly.
"So much, Steven."
"So, what do we do?" Marc said, and he couldn't help but smirk slightly as his hand brushed your hair from your shoulder and he planted a kiss against your neck. "Share you?"
"I don't wanna stop you havin' fun love," Steven said.
"It's ok," you replied, although the heat in your core and lack of Marc's touch was driving you wild. You sat back on your heels and into him, and his hands rested on your hips. Steven noticed.
"No it's not, and I –"
"- it is," you said. "I understand. And more than anything, I'm flattered... and," it felt weird to say but you were glad you could. "I love you too." Then you grabbed Marc's hand. "I love you both. So, share me? Yeah, if you're both okay with that," you said. "I don't wanna loose either of you, but I can't have just one without hurting the other. So, it's both or neither, and that's a choice you to have to make." Steven and Marc stared at each other, and it went unnervingly quiet. "I'll uh... I'll wait on the balcony." You stood up and, heart pounding, pushed past the curtains and into the evening heat.
With the busy Cairo streets below you, you could barely hear Steven and Marc as they spoke, and despite the nerves eating you up, you decided to instead make the most of being in a country you always wanted to visit, and spent the good part of a half hour people watching. Then, as you stretched out, groaning with satisfaction as your back clicked, you noticed a small metal ladder; a fire escape leading both down and up the hotel where you stayed. You grinned and climbed up with no fear of the height, and when the view of the city went from incredible to flat out unbelievable, you tucked your knees beneath your chin and watched the sun disappear behind pyramid. When darkness fell, you laid back and stared at the sky. It wasn't the easiest to see the stars, but boy was the moon beautiful.
"y/n?" you heard Marc call, and you stuck your head over the side of the roof.
"Up here," you called and you waved as he looked upwards. You waited for him to use the ladder, but in a single second, he had the suit on and with a single jump he was by your side.
"Hi," he said with a grin and you elbowed him lightly.
"Show off," you said and he chuckled, the suit disappearing. "Look, Mr Moon Man," you pointed at the moon, "how beautiful."
"Moon Man?" he scoffed. "Nah ah, it's Moon Knight."
You thought he was joking. "Oh, you're serious."
"Yes, I'm serious," he said and you laughed, raising your hands in surrender.
"Alright Mr Knight. Either way, the moon looks beautiful."
"It is," Marc said, but he wasn't looking at the moon.
"You and Steven come to an agreement?"
Marc nodded. "We're sharing you." You grinned, thankful that you didn't have to give them up, and he put his arms around you. "But there are terms of our agreement."
"And what if I don't agree with these terms?" you asked flirtatiously and he responded by grabbing your jaw, turning your head to him, and kissing you. When he pulled away you gave him an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, you've twisted my arm. I agree."
Marc shook his head humorously. "You've known Steven a lot longer than you've known me," he said, "and Steven's been wanting you longer than I have. Not that much longer but -" Marc shrugged, "-long enough. So, anything that we wanna do, he gets to do with you first."
"Such as?"
"First date, first... y'know," he said, his voice raspy. "Which, by the way baby girl, you better sleep with him soon because I am desperate to get my hands on you properly. He may be first, but you won't remember anyone else once I've had my go." You hit his shoulder at the comment and he apologised meaninglessly, which you knew but accepted all the same.
"What about first kiss?" you asked coyly.
"We already had that so -" Marc winked. "-I can kiss you whenever."
"Good," you said, and you slid your hand around his arm as you kissed him, settling your head against his shoulder when you were done. "So... What's the plan. We're here. Cairo. What are we doing?"
"Looking for Ammit's tomb," Marc said. "Without the scarab, we're gonna have to resort to plan B."
"Which is?"
Marc couldn't help but let an amused grin spread across his face. "Not as good as plan A."