Work Text:
1.
Steven was having a good day.
It was ironic, really, and he appreciated it, in some strange way. It really was just like in the movies. He was at work on time, which like, never happened, had lunch with Dylan, which meant he got to talk someone’s ear off about history without them falling sleep, and the weather was pretty nice for London. It was actually snowing - like real snowing, not the wet slush that just made it harder to get everywhere. And it was the first night of Hannukah.
He was looking forward to going back home, settling in for the evening, making himself something nice for dinner, lighting the candle, settling in with a good book, maybe some chocolate, the new blue blanket that mom gave him the last time she visited, with only the little night lamp that was probably bad for his eyesight but great for the atmosphere.
He was still smiling when he left the museum, didn’t particularly mind when he watched his bus leave without him, opting that a walk through the snow would be nicer anyway. It was dark already, and it was December, which meant the streets were quite pretty, decked out in Christmas lights, and although Steven didn’t really celebrate it, he appreciated the aesthetic.
He turned into a smaller street on a corner across from the museum, away from the bustle of the centre and in the direction of the peaceful residential areas and his apartment. He was in a good mood, so he didn’t even think of the sound of the snow crunching underneath multiple pairs of shoes besides the vague acknowledgement it was a pleasant sound. It wasn’t, after all, anything strange either. Steven Grant was a normal guy. He worked at a gift shop at the museum, he was vegan and Jewish, he liked winter and walked down that street back home countless time before. Why would he pay attention to the way the footsteps behind him matched his own perfectly, followed him at the same pace until he turned into another street, dark due to a broken street lamp.
He did notice when the footsteps picked up pace, but he didn’t actually get to give it much thought, because the hands accompanying the footsteps grabbed him, and then he was smelling something citrusy, and tasting something sweet, and it would probably not be a bad sensation if he didn’t realize, belatedly, that he was being kidnapped.
Well, bollocks.
And Steven was having such a good day.
Steven had his fair share of bad mornings, but this took the cake.
Like, honestly. He was just not a morning person. Ask Donna. Or anyone who actually needed him to get to work on time. It rarely happened. Maybe it would happen more if he had better motivation to get there, but as it was Steven figured a couple of elementary school kids would not die if he was five to fifteen minutes late to sell them gum with a cartoon picture of a pharaoh on it.
Not being a morning person, Steven was never really into breakfasts either. He lived off granola bars, or sweet buns he got on his way to work, or just wait until lunch break. Every five minutes counted, after all, and if he had a choice between food and staying in bed, food just wasn’t as appealing, ultimately. Food was nice, sure. But food required moving, getting out of warm covers, leaving the soft pillow and dreams of adventures. Food wasn’t worth it. Work wasn’t worth it either, but work paid for food, and more importantly, work also paid for the bed. And the warmth.
Warmth being something Steven was currently distinctly missing.
He shivered, realizing he was laying on a cold tile floor, stripped of his jacket and shoes, just in socks, his shirt, and with his hands tied behind his back with something sticky. Duct tape? He tried to sit up, his head feeling like hell and body struggling with movement, and it made him want to puke, which was about when he realized there was another piece of tape looped around his mouth and head, keeping him quiet and tugging at his hair unpleasantly.
This was so much worse than leaving the warm bed, this was worse than a whole group of second graders. He focused on not panicking, which took a lot of focus, but he was gagged, and he couldn’t puke, and breathing was hard, so he couldn’t panic, right.
This was all just a misunderstanding. They must have mistaken him for someone else, and soon they’re realize that he wasn’t who they thought he was, and they’d let him go.
This was all just a misunderstanding and he was getting out of here.
The door to his room - cell - whatever this was slammed open with a terrifyingly loud crash and Steven couldn’t help but flinch and try to move away from the people entering. Two goons straight out of an action movie, fancy suits and earbuds in one ear entered, immediately going for Steven, grabbing him until he was on his knees in front of the last person.
The woman was dark skinned, dressed in crocodile skin print dress, absolutely gorgeous and completely terrifying. She was playing with a butterfly knife as she approach him, smiling politely.
„Hello, Moon Knight.”
This was all just a misunderstanding and he was not getting out of here.
If he was home, Steven would get to light up the third candle. Instead he sat in the dark, not even the tiniest flicker to cut through the emptiness and the frantic, scared beating of his heart. Something was making sounds on the other side of the door and he had no idea if he wanted it to stay on that side of the door or not.
He was still alive. Not well, in a significant amount of pain, with cuts and bruises all over his body and some freaking... mob thinking he was an opponent mobster but he was alive, right. He could still hope he will get out of it somehow. Naturally, he wasn’t who they were looking for so maybe not but...
Whatever was on the other side of the door slammed into it with enough force it actually dented, a thin frame of light appearing around it where the metal lost shape.
Steven pressed himself further into the wall, almost glad he was gagged and no one could hear him whimpering. There was a sound of gunshots, and laughter, sending chills down his spine and causing an instinctive reaction to try and free his hands despite knowing how hopeless it was, and then... silence.
The door flew open with a deafening crash.
There was a figure in the doorway, seemingly not too intimidating, average size man in a cap. Steven couldn’t see any weapons on him at the moment, or much of him at all, backlit as he was, but he didn’t let it fool him. He couldn’t tell that the man was covered in blood until he was practically on Steven, a dirtied hand finding its way to Steven’s quivering chin, but it was enough knowing whatever carnage was waiting outside, this man was the only one who survived.
„Hola. Soy Moon Knight, y creo que hubo un pequeño malentendido.” Misunderstanding. Steven wanted to laugh hysterically. The man dragged him up by one arm, pulled him towards the light and examined his face.
Oh.
Now Steven got it. The man smirked, clearly seeing the same thing. It was like looking in the mirror.
„Fascinating. Well, lindo. I’m afraid you’re coming with me.”
Steven allowed the compliment to warm his cheeks purely to distract himself from the fact he was pretty sure he was being kidnapped from his kidnappers. The man didn’t untie him, or ungag him, but at least he was put in a car seat like a normal person and not the boot.
Count your blessings, right?
He wasn’t sure when he drifted off, the exhaustion and pain of the last days winning over the fear, but he woke up when the man dragged him out of the car and into some building, taking an elevator like it was the most normal thing in the world, walking around with your captive stranger. He didn’t recognize the area, and just focused on ignoring any movies he ever watched that told him that if a guy didn’t mind him seeing his face or home, he was probably going to kill him. And hell. Who said it was the guy’s home...
Although it looked like a home.
Steven wasn’t well versed in what mob hide outs looked like but this didn’t look like one. The building wasn’t too fancy but the flat was tidy and neat. There was a tank with two fish swimming slowly inside and a menorah with three candles, wicks singed.
Steven raised an eyebrow at that and then found himself being seated at the bed, a... leather cuff being tightened around his ankle. Having restraints on your bed? Not as homey. But well, it was a bed, and tied up or not, Steven was grateful to be there instead of a cold, tiled floor. He drifted off before he realized he felt strangely safe.
Steven woke up to someone bustling around the flat, and the realization that he was no longer tied up. He kept his eyes closed and allowed himself to entertain a fantasy for a minute that it was all a dream, that he was in his own bed, that he didn’t get kidnapped and tortured by weird people involved in organized crime, nor saved by someone with clearly no more legal occupation.
But life, unfortunately, was never like the books. Steven remembered it all too well, felt the ordeal in his aching bones and the wrong fabric under his cheek.
And Steven was very single and lived alone. Unless someone broke in or his mother popped in for an unexpected visit, he frankly hoped that this was someone else’s flat because if he heard footsteps in his own it’d be just concerning.
He swallowed the anxiety and opened his eyes.
There was a man in the kitchen, busy preparing something. He was in a t-shirt, tight and hugging his really nice biceps in a delightful way, and whatever he was making smelled good. Steven sat up, hugging his knees and observing his captor. The man seemed to be the same one from the previous day - he didn’t get much time to stare but his striking features were familiar even without the cap and the jacket, although he seemed calmer, more peaceful and less dangerous now.
„Oh.” He turned around and spotted Steven. „You’re awake.”
His accent seemed different, still not British, American maybe, and he was no longer speaking spanish, so maybe not the same man, though? Siblings, twins even?
„Sorry for Jake. He... You’re not a prisoner here. I mean, you can’t leave--” Steven snorted, but bit back a scathing retort. „--but it’s for your own safety, trust me.”
He figured whoever the guy was, it was better not to argue with him so he just nodded.
„I’m Marc, by the way.” He sounded almost shy. In any other circumstances Steven would find that cute.
„Steven.” He volunteered, although he suspected the man already knew that.
„Want some breakfast? Although it’s vegan bacon, since I’m vegan.”
Steven grinned and got up from the bed.
„It’s fine, I’m vegan too. And um, Jewish too, I couldn’t help but notice--” But before he could see Marc’s reaction to that he found himself sprawled over the floor, groaning in pain.
„Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t see that! I swear I didn’t see that, I didn’t mean to intentionally leave you retrained. Fuck. Sorry.” Steven felt Marc free his leg and sighed, getting up.
This was shaping up to be an experience either way.
So Steven didn’t leave. Marc promised he just had to wait a couple days, and they’d make sure he was fine and could go back to work without anyone grabbing him again, which he was pretty sure meant they planned to kill whoever took him.
Which he was trying very hard not to think about.
But he agreed, and stayed put. The place was Marc and Jake’s, he was told, as were the fish. Marc and Jake’s, respectively, that was. Apparently they felt pretty possessive over the fish. They were cute fish, Steven supposed, he got that. They were also both Jewish, but Jake was decided not vegan or kosher, and Marc was vegan instead of being kosher because it was too complicated to be kosher, he said.
He did not say anything about being a mobster. But he did say he was going to talk Steven’s arrangements with „the boss” which sounded. You know. Perfectly normal. And Steven staying over and sleeping in Marc’s bed because of a threat on his life was also perfectly normal. And brothers who didn’t seem to have another bed despite living together was also... normal, right.
Yeah, everything about this was normal.
Both Marc and Jake were normal level of hot too. Spending the day with Marc was nice, up until he disappeared to do things Steven chose not to question. Learning his saviour’s name was nice too, and Steven totally didn’t wish he could see Jake again. To actually thank him, you know.
Since he could now, since he wasn’t gagged... yeah, all perfectly normal things. He wondered if he should be alarmed by the fact he didn’t seem wary or afraid of Jake coming back at all.
„Hola, nene!” Jake’s voice, similar to Marc’s but unmistakably spanish and almost rougher rang through the flat shortly after Steven finished with breakfast. He felt almost like an intruder taking things from their kitchen without asking but he couldn’t leave and Marc claimed it was fine.
He got up to see Jake and...
„Jesus Christ!” He leaned against the wall to keep himself upright, trying to catch his breath.
„What’s wrong?” Jake looked at him with wide eyes and an angelic smile for someone completely covered in blood. Steven didn’t answered him, just motioned all over him.
„Oh, this.” He seemed to realize, but his tone was light and casual, as if he was observing the weather. „I have a good detergent. And you’re one step close to going home! Just need two or three more days, we’re staking out your flat to make sure they don’t know where you live.”
Steven, wisely, didn’t comment on the fact they knew where he worked and the fact now Jake and Marc and people they worked with apparently knew where he lived. It was just something he was going to accept now, right? Constant anxiety (not much of a change) and bloody jackets (a significant change).
Jake didn’t stay long. He had lunch with Steven - real bacon and eggs, which perks he emphasized the entire time despite Steven’s insistence he was perfectly fine with his plant based diet, and he smiled a lot, making small talk as if Steven didn’t see him looking like he murdered someone.
He most definitely murdered someone. In Steven’s name. Oh God.
So they talked, and laughed together, and Steven didn’t think about how easy it was, with Marc but with Jake too, how good he felt around them even knowing the kind of men they were, how much not a chore it was becoming, being stuck in there. After all, he was safe with them, he reasoned with himself.
He didn’t admit it, even in the quiet of his own mind, not until Jake left, that maybe the whole covered in blood look was actually doing it to him.
Neither of them returned that night so Steven lit the fifth candle for them and quietly, pointedly didn’t wish they were there with him. He was getting good at lying to himself.
When Steven woke up, someone was in the flat already. He wondered if they got back during the night, slept on the couch, or if they just returned in the morning. He wondered, briefly, about the fact he basically kicked them out of their bed, even if it did start with getting tied to it.
He still didn’t know why they even had cuffs on the bed.
Although he certainly had... theories.
He watched the man, pretty sure still unnoticed himself. The flat was one giant open concept, so even from the bed Steven could see Jake on the couch watching some... south american soap opera? With subtitles on to keep quiet. It was most definitely Jake, wearing the ridiculous cap even inside, which made him wonder if he was planning to stay or just here in passing. Maybe he didn’t sleep at all. He certainly didn’t look like he slept.
Not in a bad way. He looked pretty handsome, Steven admitted to himself quietly, but he probably didn’t sleep in white dress shirt and a tie. Jake pulled off the formal look and made it feel sexy and dangerous. Steven never thought of himself as attracted to bad boys. He was a vanilla guy, right? He probably fit in with some nice jewish girl who wore dresses and liked to cook, or a boy, maybe, one who did wear ties and dress shirts but also like... was a banker, and didn’t own guns. Definitely didn’t own guns.
He stood up and bit his lip, and realized he was living a goddamn delusion, and that for all Marc and Jake were different, for all that Jake was teeth and claws and obvious stay away kind of guy, and Marc was a perfect gentleman in a way that screamed he could fuck you up and you’d thank him... Yeah. Steven was attracted to them both.
What was he supposed to do? Choose? What was the point when he couldn’t have either of them.
He walked the short distance to the living room space and perched himself on the arm of the couch opposite Jake.
„Morning.”
„Morning.” Jake grinned, standing up. He approached Steven, his hand finding Steven’s cheek, caressing it softly, and Steven held his breath and forced his eyes to stay open. „How did you sleep?”
„Good, I... Good, for a guy with a target on his back, I suppose.” Maybe he had some nightmares but it wasn’t like he never had them before.
„I’m not staying. I just wanted to check in on you.” Jake said, voice low and growly and doing things to Steven. His eyes were dark. Serious. „I’ll deal with this for you, Steven.”
And then Jake leaned in, and placed a single chaste kiss on Steven’s cheek, and he was out of the door before Steven composed himself. On TV, some girl was still swooning in the arms of a guy wearing a leather jacket.
And Steven... Steven definitely had a thing for bad boys too.
Jake promised him that he would deal with Steven’s situation, and Steven knew he meant it, and that was exactly what really worried him. He woke up to find the flat empty and feeling cold, and it was probably just his nerves making him feel that way but he still stole a sweater from the guys’ closet (they shared a closet too, that was also normal, right...?) and fed the fish, and himself - he definitely didn’t almost forget to feed himself too.
He tried to tidy up a bit, but he didn’t really know what went where and was afraid of accidentally messing something up for them, so he found a couple books they had around.... mostly psychology and military theory, and he was pretty sure it was just as obvious as it seemed which ones belonged to whom, but he decided to grab a random psychology one, something on personality disorders, and settled in to read.
By the time sun started coming down, not actually late, because it was December, his mind was reeling, he was slightly embarrassed he assumed they were twins and fucking (even more embarrassed he was not going to let it get in the way of his crush) and somewhat worried that they weren’t back yet. They weren’t around that much, and they didn’t spend a single night yet but every day they’d show up at least once to check on him so...
The key turning in the lock made Steven breathe down in relief. It was a key, so it wasn’t the enemy, right? Just Jake. Or Marc. Didn’t matter. He stood up, ready to greet them in the doorway but his calm and good mood evaporated upon seeing them.
It was Marc. He could tell, and it felt good, almost smug to know he could tell, but it wasn’t important because he was covered in blood, and what looked (good) normal on Jake felt out of place and scary on Marc. That and he was limping and a lot of that blood was clearly his.
„Oh my god, Marc, what happened?”
And Marc... Marc smiled.
„You’re safe to go home.” He breathed out, and collapsed on Steven and oh god Steven was going to kill the bastard himself.
He dragged Marc to the bathroom and stripped him of the bloody clothes through sheer power of will and panic, and definitely didn’t cry when he found him mostly in one piece once the blood washed off. He woke up briefly, enough to cooperate with Steven as he dried him off and bandaged him and stuck him in new clothes (naked, oh god, he saw him naked!) and then in bed.
And then he went back to the bathroom himself to stare in the mirror and have a panic attack, and a shower hot enough to melt his skin off in hopes it grounded him, and once he was out and standing in the middle of the room staring obsessively at Marc’s chest rising and falling...
It didn’t even occur to him to go and sleep on the couch.
„...Marc?” Steven watched them wake up carefully, and although it was certainly new, waking up with them in one bed, he was pretty sure he could tell them apart even half asleep.
„Ahh, you worked it out, carino.” Or maybe not.
Steven hit him with a pillow and immediately regretted it when Jake winced. They got hurt. They got hurt for him and oh god they got hurt for him.
„Are you alright?”
„Never better.” Jake offered him a million dollar smile and where it would look fake on literally anyone else he somehow made it seem sincere. „Woke up to find a beauty in my bed, what more could I wish for. Just hope he won’t disappear before clock strikes midnight.” There was an almost longing quality in his tone, a note of someone used to being rejected. „You can, you know. Go home now.”
He... He could.
„What if I don’t want to?” He found the words escaping him before he could think them through, before his brain caught up with the fact they were those badass mobsters and he worked in a gift shop and, and...
Jake seemed to suddenly forget any pain as Steven found himself pinned to the mattress, the other man nuzzling his neck, his curls tickling Steven in the best ways. He let out a soft moan and thought that maybe, normal was overrated and if all he had waiting for him in normal life was selling gum to bored teenagers, then maybe a bad boy or two was exactly what he needed.
Then Jake pulled away and...
„Oh. Morning, Marc.” Marc was above him, propped on his elbows and staring at Steven as if he was trying to read the secrets to the universe in his eyes. Maybe he was. He certainly made Steven feel like that.
„Sorry, Jake’s a bit eager.” He waited for more explanation, but none came, and Steven figured it was high time for him to make a move. He lifted himself up and caught Marc’s lips with his own, dragged him back down with soft promise of more.
They didn’t leave the bed until late in the afternoon. Steven stood wrapped around Marc and Jake’s back as they lit the last candle together.
Maybe this whole being kidnapped deal wasn’t all that bad.