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The very idea that Marvin could be angry enough with him to change the locks on his doors was enough to make Anti’s head spin.
It didn’t seem real.
But the locks had been changed and he hadn’t heard from his lover in several days, so it must be the reality.
As a villain, he supposed that this was what he had coming to him. Eventually everyone left―everyone who could leave, that was. And he couldn't blame them.
At this point he was pretty sure that even his own brother only hung around, only expressed an interest in being a villain, purely to keep him happy. There was absolutely no way at all that Jack was happy working as a villain.
There was no way that Marvin had been happy with him. No way that he'd been a good enough boyfriend that Marvin would want to stay any longer than he had to. He wasn't waiting on any magical items from him at the moment, either, so it would be a perfect time to break things off. A perfect time to realize that whatever affection he'd had for him in the beginning was gone. A perfect time for him to think, "Eh, Anti's just a bastard, he doesn't care about me," and leave.
Now, typically, he would let something like this go with a swiftness to rival the Flash. Marvin was just one magician in a world full of them. Just one man in a world bursting with them. By all estimates he was just another of the countless people on the planet with only a vague interest in his dark side and nothing else to offer to Anti's operation―nothing special at all.
Except that he was.
Special, that was.
At least to Anti.
It was hard to admit to, it really was, but Marvin was something irreplaceable to Anti. Something precious. He meant the world to him and it had been so long since he’d felt such a full-bodied affection for anyone but his little brother that it made his head spin. Marvin was more than he deserved, but…
Well. It went without saying that Anti was selfish and very easy to make jealous.
He wasn’t going to give up on Marvin that easily.
He guessed that was how he ended up at Marvin’s house dressed in plain clothes, bearing no glitches, and wrestling with an anxiety he hadn’t felt since high school at nearing three in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It was earlier in the day than he’d ever dared to venture here, but at least he knew that if he knocked Marvin might answer. It was early enough in the day, and he already knew Marvin’s schedule for the whole month a la the magician telling him when he worked so he wouldn’t panic if he wasn’t home.
He cleared his throat, raised a fist, and knocked.
He hadn’t knocked on someone’s front door in years. The last door he’d knocked on was Jack’s bedroom door eight months ago when he’d woken him up for their last official day as villains together.
There was bustling from inside, then footsteps approaching the door.
Anti noticed he was holding his breath, and felt foolish.
When the door opened, it only opened a crack, prevented from opening wider by a dull silver safety chain. Marvin's bright blue eyes, usually so vibrant, looked blank as they stared out at him through the gap and through the eye holes of his cat mask. The firm frown on his lips was a pretty clear indicator, as far as Anti was concerned, toward his assumption being correct.
"What do you want?"
His tone was so cold and clipped it took everything Anti had not to flinch.
"Just to talk," He answered, trying to sound calm. His voice cracked and trembled anyway. He ploughed onward, "That's all. And ye know ye don't even have to open the door all the way."
It was almost a lie. He didn't want to stand on the doorstep while having this conversation. He hated being out in the open more than necessary ever since becoming the Glitch King. The only consolation here was that Marvin lived in a quiet little area outside of town with a tall fence all the way around his property that prevented anyone from seeing much more than the outside of the upper floor of the house. There was no way he'd be seen here if he didn't make himself seen.
The point was, though, that if Marvin didn't want to let him inside, he was willing to stand here to talk about this.
Marvin's hard expression softened just the slightest bit.
The door closing would have probably made Anti lose his shit on the spot if not for the telltale jingling of the chain unlocking on the other side.
The door reopened a moment later, and Marvin motioned Anti inside.
Anti chose to move past him without speaking, thinking maybe it'd be better to keep quiet for now. Maybe it'd be better to let Marvin tell him when he wanted him to talk. That way he knew for sure he wasn't going to piss Marvin off.
"Have a seat." Marvin said, motioning him toward the living room, and Anti went to do so without a word.
As a man who'd never personally been on death row, he wasn't sure if this feeling was comparable... But even if it wasn't, that didn't change how he felt. There was a dread knotting his stomach that he hadn't felt since the night his parents didn't come home―or maybe since the first time he seriously thought he might get caught doing something he shouldn't. It wound in his gut and spread through his veins and it felt disgusting but there wasn't anything he could really do about it.
So he quietly took a seat on one end of the couch.
It was only a small comfort that, when Marvin joined him a moment later, he didn't seat himself across the coffee table or on the other end of the couch, instead choosing to sit down on the cushion next to him.
Marvin sat what appeared to be a steaming cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him, then slowly turned to face him. He made a gesture that Anti interpreted as, "Well? Talk." and Anti swallowed. Hard.
"Look," He began, fidgeting and doing nothing to hide it because at this point there was just no point, was there? "I know I'm not great at this whole 'significant other' thing, but..." He paused and shook his head, "Just. Whatever I did, I need you to tell me what it was so I don't do it again. I'm terrible and I am well aware of that fact but I'm trying not to be terrible to you because..." Swallow, "You matter to me. A lot. So, I..." Deep breath, "I'm begging you. Please. Tell me what I did that upset you or pissed you off because I really, really want to be able to try and make it up to you."
Sure, it was word-vomit, mostly, but he'd like to think he at least got his point across relatively well. That was the only way he was going to be able to avoid panicking over what he'd said. Just consider it word-vomit. Just think it was word-vomit and that it was only convenience that made it get his point across. Just don't admit that he meant all of it and it was literally just another re-hash of the same speech he'd been re-hashing since four days ago.
Marvin, to his credit, listened to the spiel without interrupting. And when Anti was done talking, he gave the hints of a nod and took a breath. But he did not reply for a long, quiet moment that just made the dread pulsing in Anti's veins turn to sludge. It felt disgusting, to say the very least. But that was to be expected―sludge always felt disgusting no matter where it was.
But he was just distracting himself with trivia like that. It wasn't important.
It was then, only then, that his eyes caught on what Marvin was wearing―a turtleneck? The fabric was dark, clinging to him in a highly flattering way, but that wasn't the important part. The important part was that Marvin didn't wear turtlenecks. Not unless he was hiding...
Oh.
Something like shame swirled through his stomach and right up into his throat. Combined with the dread it was almost too much to handle.
"It wasn't... It wasn't exactly anything you did, Anti." Marvin said softly, "Not technically."
Anti remained quiet, waiting for him to continue―there had to be more than that.
"Honestly, I... I may be a little upset, and it might be... Sorta your fault... But I'm not mad at you." He sighed, "I changed the locks to keep Jackie out, not you."
Anti opened his mouth to ask why, but didn't get a chance.
"He started asking questions, Anti." Marvin said, and his gaze flicked to the table and stayed there, one hand coming up to touch at his neck through the turtleneck, "And you know how he gets. He doesn't give up. I just got tired of trying to dodge the questions."
"I'm sorry," Anti said, instinctively. Honestly.
Marvin's eyes shot to him immediately, surprise clear on his face.
Anti wished that didn't hurt as much as it did.
"If you're not mad at me, though," He said after a silence, before Marvin could gather his thoughts, "Then why didn't you answer my texts? And why did you look so... Displeased to see me?"
Marvin flushed slightly, ducking his head and hiding behind his bangs. "I was still upset with you." He answered, "And honestly when― when you knocked, you were the last person I expected to see on the other side of the door. I thought it was Jackie, so I... I was going to tell him to just leave me alone. But it was you and I was upset but dammit I was so happy to see you I just..."
He trailed off and Anti's heart tugged in his chest.
He was in love with this man.
"Marv," He said gently, crooking a finger under his chin and making him look at him. "You can tell me when I do something you don't like. In fact I insist on it."
"I―" Marvin began, sounding just a little startled, then, "Okay."
"So why didn't you tell me you didn't like being marked up?" Anti softened his voice and dammit he hadn't spoken to anyone like this in fucking years.
"That's the thing," Marvin said, face flushing once more and highlighting the fact that he hadn't bothered putting his usual glamour over his face to hide his scars, "I do like it. I like it a lot. But what I don't like is Jackie asking questions I'm not sure how to answer because he sees I've been marked up."
Anti sighed, using his free hand to push up Marvin's mask and getting a slightly affronted half-shout for his troubles. He ignored it in favor of planting a kiss on Marvin's forehead and saying, "Well, next time he asks, just tell him you've got a boyfriend who's still learning about not being overly possessive."
Marvin's lips quirked up. "Is that permission?"
"Permission for what?"
"Calling you my boyfriend." The magician clarified.
Anti found his own lips quirking up, "Yeah. But only if I can call you mine."
He found himself pinned to the arm of the couch a second later, lap full of Marvin and lips covered by his. He kissed back easily and smiled up at him when he pulled back.
"You've always had permission for that," Marvin said.
They kissed again.
"Can we...?" Marvin trailed when they pulled back this time, already panting.
"Yeah." Anti agreed. "I promise I'll be tender."
Marvin grinned.
The first time they made love, it was on the soft, plush cushions of Marvin's couch with the distant sounds of passing cars and singing birds as the only other noises.
The first time they made love, it was Anti, rather than Marvin, who made it out of the encounter with a necklace of bruises that he'd have one hell of a hard time hiding.
...
He wore them with pride.