Work Text:
Marc Spector was a terrible cook.
Jake could somehow cook the most delicious, spicy, authentic Guatemalan food you have ever tasted. Steven could make every vegan dish under the sun. But Marc Spector could barely boil a hotdog. Which is why you were currently triple checking the oven to make sure it was on.
It was supposed to be a simple meal. Something with bell peppers, carrots, and maybe some ground beef if Steven let us. But so far it had been 20 minutes of pure chaos in our small kitchen.
Marc had just walked in from work, hearing the soft words of Elvis float through the flat. He gently set his keys down and smiled to himself. Even after the day he had at work he still got to come home to you. He wandered into the kitchen before sitting down on one of the barstools. Your back was turned to him double checking the recipe. You turned around before being surprised at seeing him.
“Marc! Holy shit, you almost made my heart stop!” ‘We seriously need to get him a fucking bell’ you thought. You swore you can hear Steven a mile away & hear Jake's curses down the hallway, but Marc somehow always snuck up on you.
“Now you know how I feel sweetheart” he joked, leaning on his chin. You rolled your eyes in response before going back to cutting vegetables.
“How was work?” To some, it was a bland question. But to Marc? After fighting his whole life, his whole childhood, to be asked such simple and mundane questions, and have someone care? It meant the world. So he smiled and started talking about his simple day job. It wasn’t anything super fun or amazing, just helping with INTERPOL data across Europe & risk assessments, but such a simple life was what he wanted.
You both talked about life, simple parts of your days. You listened to him talk about the trip he’s going on in 2 weeks to bust some Polish drug ring, and he listened to you rant about some random work drama. It was nice.
Until you sliced your fucking hand open.
“Shit” you softly uttered, setting down the knife. Marc stopped mid-sentence and quickly got up.
“Hey hey hey, it’s gonna be ok, grab a towel and apply pressure,” he held your shoulders as you pressed the towel against the wound. It wasn’t deep enough for stitches or anything, and it didn’t hurt super bad. But still, slicing your hand open was not what you felt like doing today.
“Ok, once the bleeding has stopped we’re gonna rinse it out, alright? No soap or anything, just water,” he explained, putting the vegetables away. You of course laughed, before reminding him that you weren’t 7.
To which he replied “I know but I gotta make sure my girl is alright,” before going and grabbing the first aide kit. You rolled your eyes smiling as you rinsed your wound out.
He came back in and guided you over to the bare stool before taking your hand. “At least I won’t complain about your bandaging technique” you smiled. Marc always had a critique when it came to how you wrapped up his knuckles after a night. Of course, it was all in good fun but that didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes in return.
“Hush or I’ll use alcohol instead of Hydrogen peroxide.” He smirked. You and him sat like that for maybe 5 minutes. Softly quipping back and forth, he tenderly addressed your cut.
Marc softly wrapped the gauze around your palm, securing it in place with some weird medical magic. He then turned your hand over and brought it up to his lips, before softly kissing it. “So romantic,” you blushed.
“And it’s nothing less than what you deserve,” His eyes danced with mischief before standing up, still holding your hand gently. You stood up as well before pulling him into a hug. A feeling of just love and utter devotion swept through you the moment he softly kissed your hand.
‘This man deserves nothing less than the world’ you thought, ‘and I’ll give him exactly that’ You tried your hardest to communicate that with the hug, hoping he understood.
What you didn’t know was that, while Marc wasn’t normally as much of a touch lover as Jake or Steven, he could still tell that this hug was simply filled with raw, pure, love. His dad was never the type to give him a hug, it was just something they never did. Especially around his mom. The last hug he probably ever got was from Layla, before the whole Egyptian god thing.
So he stood stunned for a second before gently hugging back. You smiled and leaned into the nape of his neck. It felt like a cosmic want, to be as close to him as possible. And so we stood there for what felt like an eternity of bliss.
You pulled away and lightly held his forearms and stared into his eyes.
“Marc Spector. I love you so so so much. I am the luckiest person in the world to have found you. You are loveable. You are loved by me.”
Your hand moved to softly cradle his cheek and wipe away a stray tear. His eyes were watering and his brow had an adorable crease in the middle.
“I love you in every way that I know how. You are more than enough. You are my universe”
You finished and leaned in to kiss him. His lips met yours, and in that moment, in every universe, you fell in love 100 times over.
When we finally broke for air, we leaned together, foreheads touching. His thumbs rubbed circles over your hands, careful not to disturb the gauze. And we stood, in the middle of our flat. The late afternoon sun casts a soft hue over everything. ‘This is our home. They are my home.’ you thought.
He pulled back before hooking his hands around your hips, his eyes still staring into yours.
“I love you. I know it’s not the most romantic way to say it, but I would relive every single part of my life 100 times over, if it meant I still get to see you every time I wake up”
‘Holy shit.
I think I just fell in love all over again. ’
You thought before giving him a watery smile. “Even if I wake you up early?” You laughed.
He rolled his eyes playfully. “Yes. Even if you wake me up despicably early.”
It was your turn to roll your eyes. In actuality, your heart was on fire for this man. You’ve never felt so much love and happiness in your life. He let out a soft chuckle before leaning in for a kiss. Right as you were about to too, the oven beeped.
“Oh shit! The peppers!” You quickly left his soft hold and grabbed the oven mitt. Taking out your peppers you turned and saw Marc looking at you like you kicked a puppy.
“What? I couldn’t forget my peppers!” You said innocently as you turned the oven off. The peppers in question were burnt beyond saving.
“You are so going to pay for that,” Marc smirked from across the island
“Mhmm yeah definitely, but is that gonna be before or after we eat plain charred bell peppers for dinner?” You said sarcastically motioning to the empty counter.
He simply shrugged before walking around and saying “I guess that depends on how long the delivery guy takes.” He said fake innocently.
Your hands went to his shoulders, peppers long forgotten. “Or we could just ask them to drop it at the door, no interruptions required…” You whispered softly in his ear.
Something in his eyes shifted before you felt yourself being picked up bridal style and carried to the bedroom. “Put me down, Marc!!” You laughed tightening your grip around his neck.
“We still have to place the order!” You joked as he made his way through the flat. He rolled his eyes and smiled at you as we walked through the flat. “Good lord, are you trying to make me beg for it?” He playfully raised his eyebrow.
“Maaaaybe,” You said barely containing your smile and looking away.
“Not gonna happen, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “If anything-“
“Marc!” You laughed, “Before you finish that sentence I need to remind you that we are both fully clothed. And that’s a problem that needs to be solved.” He looked down at you before gently setting you down on our bed.
“A problem? Whatever will we do about that?” He smiled as the door clicked shut.
Let’s just thank the lord that UberEats still delivers at 3 am.