Work Text:
Marc presses the button on his vape, brings the cylindrical cartridge to his lips and inhales. He holds the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before exhaling slowly, the smoke hanging in the air of the public bathroom he finds himself in. Medical marijuana, and he could honestly say he was using it for its intended purpose at this moment. Marc waves the smoke away and moves to exit the bathroom.
A tall man dressed in a blue tiger costume enters the doorway, bumping into Marc.
“‘Scuse me.” The tiger says. At least that’s what it sounds like, muffled by layers of foam and fabric. Marc says nothing. He shudders as the fur of the costume brushes against his skin as he squeezes by.
The room opens up, a broad space with pillars interspersed, carpeted in blue. Costumed and uncostumed people meander back and forth within the hall, or find a space against a wall to sit down at. Brightly colored cartoon animal masks of every sort adorn the multitude of attendees.
The eyes of the animal heads are sunken in, made to look as though they’re making eye contact with any viewer. Gazing into the group results in a sea of eyes seeming to staring back. Marc ducks his head and allows himself to be pushed along with the crowd. Somewhere in the distance, a toy squeaker sounds, unrelenting.
He finds himself in one of the massive exhibit halls, with concrete floors and walls. Sunlight blasts through the windows adorning the high ceilings. The crowd disperses in this room, and Marc finds himself among aisles of furry-themed merchandise. The booth in front of him is a large space of colorful fur-lined handcuffs. Marc peruses the assortment. He wanders away before he can fully form the thought of the person he’d like to use them with.
Marc can feel fog beginning to creep around the edges of his brain, and he welcomes it. The chatter of surrounding people fades into the background of his mind as he finds it harder to focus, thanks to the ‘break’ he took in the bathroom earlier. He continues through the exhibit halls, feeling significantly better than he had a few minutes before.
“Marc!” Marc hears his name called, but it sounds far away, and he doesn’t turn his head.
“Marc!” The voice repeats. There’s someone in front of him now, calling his name.
Oh. “Steven.” Marc blinks, finally realizing who’s standing before him. The first thing Marc notices is that Steven is now wearing a pair of black pointed animal ears on top of his head. The second thing he notices, as Steven begins shoving bags into Marc’s hand, is that Steven has bought a lot of stuff.
Steven grins happily at Marc, and Marc feels his heart skip a beat. He’s been speaking as Marc stares at him, and he tunes back in halfway through a sentence. “-mousepad mat for the desk with a wolf on it, and look, this tiny little bee plush—“ Marc can’t focus and tunes out again, but feels himself smiling, infected by Steven’s enthusiasm as he adjusts all of the bags of merchandise in his hand.
Marc sees Steven’s expression change quickly, suddenly looking more reserved. “I-it’s the cat stuff huh, making you laugh?” Steven sways back and forth bringing his arms in front of his chest, and Marc notices the long black cat tail hooked onto his belt that he hadn’t seen before.
“I wasn’t laughing,” Marc stumbles through words as fast as his addled brain can. “I’m just- glad you’re having a good time, that’s all.” Though Marc would never be caught dead wearing fake animal parts and, frankly, he thought it was weird as hell on everyone else, Steven could wear all the damn animal ears he wants and Marc would still worship the ground we walked on. Not that he’s ever admitted as much. He looks away from Steven, embarrassed at his own thoughts.
“Oh, okay then.” The smile returns to Steven’s face. “I just picked up this badge, too.” Steven flips shuffles through several pieces of plastic on his lanyard, before proudly brandishing a laminated image. The picture is of a sleek anthropomorphic black cat with blue eyes wearing ancient Egyptian-style adornments, with several hieroglyphics at the bottom.
Marc has no idea what he’s looking at. “Cute.” He says, hoping that’s the correct response. It is, and Steven beams.
“Come on, let’s go find Jake.” Steven takes Marc’s free hand in his own and starts leading him out of the large hall. Marc grips tightly, focusing on the grounding sensation. The realization takes a moment to register for Marc, Steven is holding his hand. He’s holding his hand like it’s nothing, like it’s no big deal. Is it no big deal to Steven? It’s a big deal to Marc. Steven lets go once they’re out of the exhibit hall, taking out his phone and texting someone, assumedly Jake.
The two of them find a place out of the way from the crowds while waiting for Jake’s response. They lean against a guardrail surrounding one of the many escalators dotted around the convention center. Marc peers over the edge of the rail, spying someone in a caribou costume on the floor below. The caribou waves at Marc when he notices his gaze. Marc waves back.
Eventually, after receiving a text from Jake, they find themselves entering another huge room, a dark ballroom filled with people in chairs, complete with a stage, where all attention was focused on the current performer, some kind of… blue creature, undulating to the loud EDM music playing over the speakers. The blue costume atop the stage was not any kind of animal that Marc recognized, it had a dolphin tail but with fish fins sticking out of its head in place of ears and large shiny domed eyes. The padding of the costume had been made to give it a distinctly inhuman shape, with exaggeratedly wide thighs and large cartoony hands and feet.
Too late did Marc realize that they had already found Jake in the crowd, who had been snapping his fingers for who knows how long in front of his face as he watched the dancer. “Marc, you there, hombre ? See something you like?”
Marc furrows his brow and pushes Jake’s hand away. “I could ask you the same thing, what the hell are you doing here?”
Jake laughs, pulling a flask out of his jacket pocket. “Passing time until the bars open.” He takes a swig.
Steven bristles. “Jake you can’t have that in here!” He hisses.
“ Ay, you’re getting onto me but you let Mr. Space Case here do whatever he wants?”
“Huh? What does that mean?”
“… Nothing, cariño .” Jake chuckles and leans in close, snaking an arm dangerously close to Steven’s waist, as though the response was especially adorable to him.
Marc fumes. “Please, can we leave?” He moves Jake’s arm away from Steven.
Steven doesn’t notice, or at least, pretends not to. “Aw, but I’ve never seen a dance competition before-” Steven looks at Marc and pauses. “- But we can leave, if there’s too many people here for you.”
Typical Steven, looking out for Marc. Marc sighs. “No, nevermind, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He sits down in an available chair to make his point. Steven sits down, watching his face. Marc turns towards the stage, where now someone in a bright yellow dog costume is performing. He lets himself relax, the fog in his brain blanketing itself over him, blurring out the loud music and anything else his counterparts might say to him.
Time seems to simultaneously move faster and slower at once. Marc is vaguely aware of Jake, with his arm around Steven, talking to him about something, but pointedly ignores them. After an indeterminable amount of time, the music stops, someone says goodbyes on a microphone, and the overhead lights come on.
Eventually, Marc is pulled out of his chair and ushered out the door, probably by Jake, based on the force with which he was pushed forward. He brings himself back to reality, at which point Steven starts talking about what he wants to do next. Steven’s merchandise bags have at some point transferred to Jake’s arms.
“The fursuit parade is soon!” Steven proclaims. “We have to find a spot to watch it.”
Dear God, Marc would rather do anything else. “I can’t wait,” he says.
As Steven leads them around to find a spot against a wall to dwell at, Jake catches Marc’s elbow and half-whispers to him. “You’re so whipped.” He grins.
Marc pulls his arm out of Jake’s grip. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Jake snorts. “Oh come on now, I see the way you look at him.”
“Yeah, well I see the way you look at him.” Marc retorts. “And I don't like it.”
“Who, me?” Jake says. He looks Marc in the eyes. “Tell him. Your pining is driving me insane, and not in a good way. You wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t to make him happy.”
“I’m not confessing anything at a fucking furry convention -”
Jake shrugs, backing out of Marc’s space. “Why not? All I’m saying, if you don’t make a move, someone else might, hermano. ”
Marc grabs at Jake’s shoulder before he can retreat. “What, are you saying we’re competing for him? That’s sick, I’m not playing games with either of you-” Marc’s words are cut off as a cacophony of noise comes from down the hallway, as the fursuit parade begins.
Marc looks around for Steven, but he’s nowhere to be found. “God damn it.” Him and Jake move out of the way of the parade, looking for where Steven went off to. People in costumes of all shapes and sizes start filing past them, waving. They’re backed against a wall, with people on either side of them with their phones out, filming. Marc bristles, there’s no way he can be caught on any of those videos. There’s no moment to cut across the crowd of people streaming past them. Music blares from an unseen source, but the shrill sound of squeakers cuts through the noise. Marc checks his phone. No service. A horse costume sporting enormously large tits and ass sashays through the hallway.
Marc turns to Jake, who is gritting his teeth in uncharacteristic distress. “We’re trapped.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. We’ll find Steven after the parade. How long could it take?”
An hour passes.
Marc has his head in his hands, sitting against the wall with Jake next to him. Jake drinks from his flask, offering some to Marc. Marc takes it and downs the rest of the liquid inside it and hands it back, wincing as he swallows. Jake makes a noise of annoyance.
It’s been long enough that the fogginess in Marc’s brain has started to lift, and he can feel the familiar sensation of anxiety creeping back in.
Finally, the constant stream of people slows. Jake groans and gets to his feet, offering a hand to Marc. Marc takes it, pulling himself up. They’ve survived truly harrowing experiences together before this, but this one is the worst of them, thinks Marc.
They find Steven after some time wandering around. Steven runs up to them when he sees them. “Where have you guys been? Did you see the parade?”
“Yeah.” Jake laughs. “I can’t believe there are this many adult people-” Marc glares at Jake. “- having fun with their innocent hobby.”
“I know, isn’t it great?” Steven says, pushing himself between the two of them and grabbing a hand from each of them. He starts pulling them towards the exit of the building. “Now don’t get lost again!”
Again, Steven is holding his hand like it’s no big deal. Marc can feel himself relax, though he feels a certain way about Steven holding Jake’s hand at the same time. He refuses to unpack those feelings right now.
The trio walks outside into the muggy July air. It’s hot, but the tall buildings surrounding the convention center shade them. Marc looks around and wonders how these people can be covered head-to-toe in these costumes. There are throngs of people, both in furry garb and in regular clothes, lining the streets. It looks like they blocked off some of the streets for the parade, even. Marc still can’t wrap his head around the amount of people that were here, taking part in the furry-festivities.
Something catches Marc’s attention, someone pushing to the front of the crowd, heading in their direction. He’s instantly on high alert, squeezing Steven’s hand as they make their way towards them. It’s a tall person, their features obscured by the large cartoony green alligator head they are wearing. Or maybe it was a crocodile, he doesn’t know. Steven would know, is the only thought in his stupid brain.
Jake stares at the figure in front of them, he must also be squeezing Steven’s hand, because Steven pulls both his hands back with an “Ow!” Steven seems oblivious to the person now clearly approaching them. Marc wonders if a punch in the head would be enough to subdue the person, since it’s surrounded by so much padding of the costume crocodile head.
A green furry gloved hand lifts to point at the trio, and Marc catches a glimpse of a familiar tattoo on their inner wrist, a scale. So, one of the residual followers of Harrow and Ammit, then. The three of them had run into a few of this sort causing trouble, swearing revenge for their master. They were formidable fighters, but nothing they couldn’t handle.
Marc looks around to take stock of their situation. They’re in the road, surrounded by people, and a furry is looking for a fight. He looks over at Jake, who seems strangely calm. Jake meets his gaze. “I’m not going to give this joker the satisfaction of seeing my fists.” He hangs back. “You two can handle it.”
Marc balks at this. “Well I’m not gonna fight a furry in the middle of the street either! This is insane!”
Steven by now has noticed the two of them yelling, and turns to see what the subject of their argument is. “Oh, one of these guys.” Steven finally notices the person now more quickly closing the gap between them. “Don’t worry guys, I’ve got this one.”
“Steven- wait–” Marc starts, but it’s too late, as Steven is practically bounding towards their adversary, his fake cat tail bouncing with his gait.
A sudden gust of wind blows from behind them, and there’s a rustling as a streak of white fabric envelops Steven, leaving “Mr. Knight” in his place. They had been calling him that, as he insisted that Moon Knight was Marc’s title.
The crowd of people around them have taken notice of the commotion, and phones are being pointed at them to record what will surely be the subject of this week’s furry twitter discourse. “Come on Steven- in full view-!” Marc is halfway towards reaching for him, before he gets a look at what he’s wearing. “... Why, God….” he breathes.
Steven is wearing his usual suit, vest, and tie ensemble, but now with the addition of two white triangular cat ears atop his head, and a white cat tail swaying behind him.
Even Jake is taken aback. “Steven…”
Steven takes stock of the additions to his form. “Y’know, I was thinking “fur-suit” but this is cute too.” Marc drops his head into his hands, absolutely mortified.
The alligator is saying something to them, but it’s too muffled beneath layers of foam and fur to hear. Steven doesn’t seem to care, as he jumps forward, connecting his fist straight into the snout of the cartoony reptile. The person stumbles back, but produces a knife and swings it in front of them. Steven just barely dodges out of the way.
As this is happening, Marc and Jake have retreated to the front line of the crowd, leaving Steven to his little fight.
“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my whole life.” Marc says.
“Me either.” Jake says, taking a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and placing it between his lips. “But he looks pretty cute, don’t you think?” He lights the cigarette and takes a draw, folding his arms and looking bemused.
Marc looks back at Steven. He does look good, fighting, his little cat ears pressed backwards and his tail whipping back and forth behind him as he squares off against his foe, who seems to refuse to shed their alligator head and gloves. Marc blushes as he glances down at Steven’s ass, something he has no choice but to do whenever he dons the suit.
“ Cabrón… ” Jake claps him on the back. “You really gotta tell him.” Jake sounds unusually soft.
“Really? You’re saying this now?”
“I’m invested. What’s stopping you? Your self-loathing? Your fear of rejection? Your mommy issues-”
“Alright, alright, that’s enough. It’s all of the above.” Marc snarls. “Now would you just shut up?”
Jake shrugs, but backs off. By now, Steven’s subdued the cult member, proudly standing over the unconscious body on the ground. They still never removed their alligator costume.
The three of them slip away, retreating to the adjacent streets. They pass a restaurant offering dog bowls for their customers to eat food in. Marc does a double-take, but decides to pretend he never saw that.
As they walk away from the crowds of people, the streets grow more and more quiet. Marc finally feels like he can breathe again, and he does, letting out a huge sigh.
“Hm? What’s wrong, Marc?” Steven is back to civilian wear, and has shed his costume cat ears and tail and stowed them in one of his merchandise bags that Jake is still holding. “Are you okay? It’s been a long day.”
“Sure has.”
Steven suddenly embraces the other two men. “Thanks so much for coming with me, I had a great time. I know it’s not really your ‘thing,’ but it means a lot to me you guys wanted to come.” Marc and Jake return the hug, Jake’s hand sneaking down to Steven’s lower back.
“It was no problem, cariño. ” Jake winks at him, then turns to see Marc’s reaction. Was he doing this just to get a rise out of him?
“Uh, yeah. It was interesting- I mean, in a fun way.” He lied. Marc then and there vowed to never return to one of these events, no matter how much he wanted to please Steven.
“Ah, Steven, Marc had something he wanted to tell you, didn’t you Marc?” Jake backed away from the two of them, leaving them suddenly too close together.
Steven made an intrigued sound as Marc stuttered. “U-uh, yeah. Yeah I did.”
“Oh? Well, what is it Marc?”
“I definitely have something I want to tell you.”
“... Mmhm?”
“And that thing I want to tell you. It’s uh… definitely something.”
Steven looks at him patiently.
“So the thing is…” Marc pauses for a long time, then hangs his head, sighing. “You uh, you looked good with the cat ears today.”
Steven laughs and turns away. “Oh, thank you Marc.” Marc thinks Steven must be blushing. He starts to blush as well. The two of them stand there, awkwardly, before Marc coughs and moves away, back in the direction of the hotel.
Jake groans, his hands over his face in distress. “ Ay, dios mio… ”
Someday, maybe, Marc thinks. But not at a furry convention.
