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It was a lazy, domestic day in the Winter’s household.
The kids had excitedly left around noon to arrive on time for a concert they were going to out of town. Ashe was driving and she’d promised to send him regular updates, so Mark wasn’t too worried for them.
That meant that the man had the afternoon and next morning to Tide and himself in the house together.
Tide had invited himself over more then anything, saying he’d come over and watch a movie with Mark and keep him company as he couldn’t remember the last time his house wasn’t occupied by at least his daughter.
That’s how the two of them ended up in his bed, giggling like teenage boys again as they kissed on top of Mark’s messy sheets. Tide had somehow ended up on top of him, lying on his chest. One of his arms was against his broad chest and the other was noncommittally around his waist, squeezing his rough hips.
One of Mark’s arms was around Tide’s waist and the other was holding himself up on his elbow, bracing against his kisses. It wasn’t rough but was still much more closeness then Mark was used to.
January Sixth.
He could see the date plainly on the calendar across his room, the day continuously catching his eye between casually pressing his lips against Tide’s, and enjoying his salty breath.
They both panted, out of breath, but not stopping to breathe as they dove back into locking lips and tangling legs. Mark nipped at Tide’s lower lip, causing him in turn to make a hmph noise in protest.
Tide shifted to give his lips a break and trailed down past his scruffy, unshaven beard to his neck. The blonde inhaled a sharp breath as Tide sucked on the pale skin above his collarbone, his grasp moving up the man’s hips.
January Sixth.
Mark screwed his eyes shut, trying to pry his train of thought from the date spinning in the forefront of his mind. He wanted to enjoy the moment, Tide’s undivided attention and gentle affections, but even with his eyes closed he could still picture the calendar.
The hero was working down his neck slowly, paying attention to the space just below his adam’s apple. His heart felt like it was going to thump out of his chest, not only because of how Tide made him feel.
January Sixth.
He squeezed the back of Tide’s t-shirt, not realizing what he was trying to communicate until the signal ran from his hands to his brain.
“Tide can-can we—“ He stammered out, drawing in a delayed breath when it all felt like it was too much and he needed his weight off of him.
As soon as his words caught Tide’s attention he was unlatching his mouth from the blonde’s neck, sitting up and lifting his leg off his waist to sit criss-cross beside him as he ungracefully pulled himself up to lean against the headboard of his bed.
“I—fuck, sorry for stopping you.” He was taking in deep, shaky breaths and rubbing his temples. Tide looked concerned at his erratic breathing, making sure his hand stayed on top of his.
“Mark, It’s okay, all of this-“ he motioned towards the two of them, curled up in his bed. “I know it’s a lot. We can take things slower, as slow as you need them.” He reassured, his eyes kind and as blue as they always were staring back at him.
“It’s….” What was he gonna say? Why was he afraid to say it, to admit that today was her birthday? “It’s good, I like this a lot, today is just….god, I’m sorry that I’m a mess, Tide.”
The aquatic man shuffled closer so that he could sit right beside Mark, almost side to side but not quite.
“It’s alright, you’re allowed to be a mess, you’re a human.” He emphasized, rubbing his thumb over Mark’s heavily calloused knuckles.
“You’re too good to me, T.” Mark chuckled dryly, his breathing easier to control even if his head was down and eyes fixed on his lap, away from his boyfriend.
“None of that! I’m good to you because you deserve it.” He nudged his shoulder, hoping that the other man would look at him.
Behind his shaggy mess of dirty blonde hair Tide could see his eyes move to look at him, keeping his head down but acknowledging the praise. “Was something bugging you?” The hero asked him softly.
It was at the tip of his tongue. January Sixth. But how did he admit it to Tide? Admit to him that he still thought about his deceased wife while they were kissing? That it was January sixth, what should’ve been her 43rd birthday spent with him?
“It’s just some personal bullshit, nothing you need to worry about me for.” He grumbled, guilt chewing at him.
“I’m not going to pry and I’ll drop it if you ask, but did something happen? You seem really tense. If I’m putting too much pressure on you, we can take a break and keep watching that movie?” Tide suggested, a little worried that he’d done something to make Mark feel overwhelmed. He knew the man often hid things behind mental barriers, not revealing how seriously they bothered him until he couldn’t hold the feelings back anymore.
“It’s not you—definitely, not you. Today’s just…a rough day. I don’t want to weird you out with it.” He admitted, finally bringing his head up to briefly glance at his boyfriend and catch his reaction.
He seemed curious and worried. Tide’s eyes always carried a little bit of concern, no matter who he was talking to.
“Those are words I honestly never thought I’d hear from you of all people,” He gave a small chuckle. “You wear your oddity like a badge of honour, you made me re-think my entire world because of it.”
“You’re right,” Mark gave a tiny chuckle back, the dry kind that was almost sarcastic. “I fucking hate feeling guilty.”
There it was, a piece in his puzzle, something Tide could reach for past those iron walls Mark had constructed around all the heavy and uncomfortable emotions he ever felt. He wanted to shake his lover and tell him he could handle the uncomfortable, that they were long past the point of Mark’s baggage scaring Tide off.
“What do you feel guilty about…?” His voice conveyed no demand for answers, just an open-ended question.
Mark took a deep breath in, just like Tide had taught him how. He let it linger for a moment, before saying the words exactly like ripping off a bandaid.
“It’s Rose’s birthday.”
The words stung like ripping a bandaid off too, suddenly all the more real then he’d tried to deny. The silence that followed the statement felt loaded, and for a moment the blonde wasn’t sure whether he was right and Tide was weirded out by him bringing up his ex-wife out of nowhere.
In less then a couple seconds strong arms reached around him, emptying the excess air from his lungs in a tight hug. It made Mark feel like a teenager, every birthday since he’d met her managing to play on repeat in his mind nonstop. He quickly grasped his own arms around Tide, burying his head in the man’s toned shoulder and choking back a sob.
“I can’t imagine how that feels, I’m sorry.” He whispered, sounding so much louder in the silent bedroom.
“I can’t stop thinking about her, and it makes me feel like such a dick. Here we are, I’ve got a cute guy in my bed for the first time in god knows how long, and I can’t stop thinking about how she hated blowing the candles on her cake out because she tilted her head in a way that always made her glasses fall into her cake.”
Silent tears streamed down his face, making his throat feel like it was closing up and all the feelings he was trying to hide enveloping him in one surge.
His crying turned into pathetic small sobs, ones he tried to hide in Tide’s shirt. Tide rubbed his back in a soothing repetitive motion, whispering little affirmations to him that it was safe to let it all out.
After maybe five minutes of therapeutically letting his held back tears out he forced himself to pull it together, wiping his nose and eyes on the back of his hand. “I never stopped feeling like I was a goddamn mess without her.” He croaked, barely above a whisper.
One of Tide’s hands came up to the back of his head and he buried it in his hair, rubbing his scalp soothingly. “I’m not mad, I’d never be mad at you for mourning someone you lost.”
He subconsciously leaned into his hand, his eyes puffy and red from crying but trying to keep his expression steely. “You should be though, I mean—We’re in a relationship now, I like you a lot, it feels unfair to you that I’ve got someone else on my mind. To her too, I know she’s dead and it’s not rational to think she has any opinions anymore but it still feels like I’m cheating on her. It’s been almost eleven years, what’s wrong with me?”
Tides' other hand left his back and came up to cup his face, making him look into his eyes. “I never want you to feel like you have to hide how you feel about her to protect my feelings. Mark, she was your wife, you had a child together. There’s no question to me that you loved her deeply and that’s okay. Have you ever thought that you could love the both of us?”
The question felt like a punch to the gut, taking all his frantic words away.
“Huh?”
“Well, would it help if I gave you explicit permission to love her as well as me? The both of us, at the same time.” The hero explained, brushing the loose strands of shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes.
Mark stammered for a moment, unsure of what to say. Picking up on his struggle for words, Tide added on.
“I can’t claim to know her like you did, but from what I do know she would’ve been overjoyed to see that you found love again, that you’re taking care of yourself and raising your daughter in her honour, just like she would’ve wanted.” Their faces felt so close, like they were worried that if one of them moved too far away they’d slip out of each others fingers completely.
“What if I’m leaving her behind?” Mark croaked in an uncharacteristically tiny voice.
“You’re not,” He reassured. “Theirs space for her and me in your heart, I would never make you choose between the two of us.”
Mark wrapped his arms around Tide again, less suddenly and intensely this time. The hug lasted a couple of moments, silence stretching out between the two of them.
Eventually he drew back, fighting to make sure tears didn’t spill again. “Thank you, I think I really fuckin’ needed to hear that.” He admitted.
“If there's anything special you’d like to do for her today I’d be happy to help.” The aquamarine hero kissed his cheek, still salty from his crying.
He thought for a moment, revisiting his memory lane. He spoke hesitantly, but with a newfound sureness. “There’s a bakery by Antonio’s that she loved–used to pick up donuts for me and Ashe all the time on her way home from school–maybe tonight we could try and see if they're still as good as they used to be?”
“I’d love to.” Tide smiled, flashing his grin.
It was rare that Mark smiled wide enough to show off his semi-crooked teeth, but every once in a while Tide would catch a glimpse of the whites in his mouth. This was one of those moments, his lips curling up just wide enough to see them peak out from between his lips.
A beat passed before the blonde placed a hand on his thigh, playing with the texture of the navy blue shorts he wore. “By the way, I really like the kissing. A lot, actually. I don’t know if I’m ready to….make out or whatever the kids call it now though.”
Tide returned the affection, dropping one of his hands and squeezing his bicep. “That’s perfectly alright with me, I’m happy with whatever you want to give me.”
His hand curled, his mouth seeming to speak words faster then he could organize them. “I’m sorry if that’s disappointing, I think I’ll be ready someday. It just reminds me a lot of when she and I—“
“Hey. Listen to me for a moment. You don’t need to rationalize your boundaries, alright? No heavy kissing means no heavy kissing until you give me the green light.” Tide interrupted him.
“God, I feel like a teenager all over again.” He groaned, but was internally appreciative of the support.
“And I didn’t have any teenage years, we make quite the duo, huh?” He joked, getting a chuckle out of Mark.
In a move bolder then the usual affection from the ex-villain, he pulled both him and Tide to lay back down on the messy strewing of pillows. He kept hold of Tide, his hand on the small of his back as they adjusted to get comfortable and scooted close to each other.
“How does that bakery at seven tonight sound?” He asked.
“Lovely.” The hero smiled back, embracing their position.
While Tide looked at him he slowly leaned in for a tender kiss, tilting his head and creating a soothing slow rhythm between their lips, sweet as honey.
January Sixth, he’d never stop missing her, but he’d never be alone.