Chapter Text
Layla reached down to grab the straps of her ridiculous sandals with the four-inch heel and slid them on. Her feet would be killing her by the night's end, but it would be worth it to tower over Marc for an evening. She’d chosen a sleeveless black dress - simple and classy. She could dress up, but she couldn’t tolerate fancy, fussy dresses. She preferred to keep it simple. Well, she preferred to wear clothes she could run and fight in, ideally, but it was date night.
She refused to wear most makeup in the oppressive Dubai heat, even at night, but she had a bright red lip stain that could survive anything.
And that was it. She would have preferred to keep her hair in its normal, barely organized mass of curls, exactly as she liked it. But she had to respect the heat, so she carefully pulled it back out of her face and off her neck. Curls would slowly escape their restraints all night, but there was nothing to be done about it.
She inspected herself carefully in the mirror. Maybe she’d undershot the classic look and landed at plain?
It was already 7:00, and she was sure Marc was getting antsy. He’d headed down to the hotel bar after the third time she’d nearly run into him while she was getting dressed. He’d been pacing around the room like a caged tiger, so she’d kicked him downstairs. Maybe Jake could watch baseball and let Marc breathe for a while.
On impulse, she dug out the long gold earrings that Steven had picked up for her in London a few months ago. They were like dangly, gold waterfalls, interspersed with tiny diamonds. She’d thought they were a bit much at the time, but they were perfect now. It was the little bit of sparkle she needed, setting off her golden bracelets.
She grabbed her handbag and headed downstairs to get Marc. Keeping inconspicuous, she tried to spy him in the bar before he could see her. She just wanted a chance to see him in an unguarded moment.
It was Marc, she was sure, sitting at a table near the television at the back of the bar. There must have been no baseball for Jake to watch - he wouldn’t bother coming out front for a football match. She honestly couldn’t say how exactly she knew which of them was before her, but she always did know. They carried themselves so differently, moved so differently, that she couldn't mistake one for the other.
She leaned against the far end of the bar to admire him. He hated to hear what she so often wanted to say to him - that he was a beautiful man, far more beautiful than he realized. He was wearing a dove gray button-down with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, and dark trousers. Everything fit him perfectly, as if it had been tailored. And maybe it had - Marc was the antithesis of her comfort-loving Steven and he had a vain streak that Steven lacked. He caught her staring at him and gave her a slow smile. She just smiled back.
He abandoned the match he’d been watching and joined her.
Marc seemed a little puzzled. “Did you want a drink before we go? We have time.”
He was probably wondering why she had been standing at the bar and hadn’t gotten his attention earlier. If she tried to explain it to him, he’d get irritable. He had a way of making sure that anyone who dared to point out his finer qualities had to suffer for it a little. And it wasn’t worth it to her if it made him feel uncomfortable.
He was here with her, and she wanted to take her time and savor the luxury of his presence. She’d need it to get through the month ahead without him.
“No, I don’t need a drink. I just got here, but I’m ready now. We can go whenever you like.”
He invaded her space a little more, and his hand reached up and caught her earring. He let the little gold and diamond waterfall run across his fingertips.
“Steven got these for you. I feel like I should let him up front so he can see for himself how you look tonight.”
She shook her head. “I can wear them for him some other time. Tonight is for me and you.”
Marc chuckled. “Steven said almost the same thing at the same time. He said that the earrings are as gorgeous on you as he knew they would be. And that he plans to badger you to wear them again for him another time.”
“Are he and Jake hanging around tonight?”
She normally wouldn’t ask, assuming that the boys' internal life was their own and not her business unless they made it her business. She simply interacted with whoever was conscious at the time. But it had been a weird day, and she was curious.
He nodded. “Yeah, they are both a little stirred up. I asked the concierge to get us a cab instead of calling Uber because I didn’t want to listen to Jake bitch about how Uber was ruining small businesses all night. It should be here in a few minutes.”
Layla had heard this rant from Jake on a few occasions herself, and she laughed. “Okay, good. We look fantastic and I’m hungry, so I’m ready to go.”
It was a perfect evening, which Marc deserved after the day he’d had. The restaurant was gorgeous. After dinner, they’d walked around the nearby gardens and enjoyed the breeze off the ocean.
Marc didn’t seem to mind the slow pace of the evening. His earlier nervous energy seemed to have worn away as the night went on, and he was as relaxed as he ever was. He was telling her stories from the time they’d been apart. Including one that featured Steven narrowly avoiding as ASBO for damaging property, albeit this time at a different museum. It had been Khonshu’s fault, of course. But Steven would have had a hard time explaining that to the authorities without also risking a mental health evaluation.
They got back to the hotel around midnight, tired and a little tipsy from the bottle of wine they’d shared at dinner. She towered over Marc one more time for good measure and then kicked off her shoes. They both began getting ready for bed.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, babe, but I’m too tired to end date night the usual way. I’m in my forties now. I can’t keep up with your libido.”
She burrowed deeper under the covers, already half asleep. “Okay, old man. I’ll try to hold myself back.” She yawned theatrically.
He chuckled and climbed in beside her, wrapping her up in his arms and tucking her hair away. She snuggled in until she was completely comfortable. She knew sleep would come in seconds.
She’d probably wake up with Marc, but it might be Steven who held her in his arms. Or Jake might wake up with her, run his fingers through her hair until she awoke, and then blame all the loving attention on Steven.
They weren’t a conventional couple. They weren’t even conventional polyamorists now that she thought about it. Their life wasn’t the kind of thing she could explain. But Marc, Steven, and Jake were hers, and that was enough. That was more than enough.
“Goodnight, Marc.”
“G’night.”
“Goodnight, Jake.”
“Layla, go to sleep.”
“Goodnight, Steven.”
“Layla, damnit. Everyone’s tired. All of us alters are tired. Go to sleep.”
She smiled and went to sleep.