Work Text:
Mark stood in front of the mirror, turning a little to the left, then to the right, studying the sweater from the collar all the way down to the hem. It looked... fine, he supposed. The blue brought out his skin tone in a way that his other clothes hadn't, he wasn't sure if he'd seen this particular shade before. The orange stripes running across his torso, though? Yeah, those were a choice. It made the sweater feel kind of loud and alot.
Other than than that, he couldn't really complain. The fit was perfect.
The material was soft, comfortable, and clearly made to last. It felt like the kind of sweater that could carry him straight through winter without so much a chill. It fitted him perfectly too, like it had been made for him (because it was). He wouldn't be surprised if a sweater like this would be pricey in a store.
"Do you like it?"
Behind him, Atom Eve leaned against his study table, arms crossed and somewhat a hopeful smile tugging the corner of her lips.
He hesitated for a moment, tugging at the hem. "It's nice," he said finally. "But are the orange stripes necessary?"
The red-headed woman tilted her head, pretending to think it over.
"They make it pop." she waved her hand idly. "You always wear dull colours. Not that you don't look nice in those, but I thought you could use something a little brighter."
A hum came from his throat. He turned again towards the mirror, squinting at his reflection. "Yeah, well, popping isn't usually my goal when I get dressed.
Eve only smiled wider. "It looks good on you."
"You say that about every clothes or wearable item you make for me," Mark retorted.
"Because it's true."
He glanced at her through the mirror, meeting her bright green eyes in the reflection. She looked so damn sure of herself– of him –in that way only she could. It made it hard to argue.
"But—" she piped up, pushing herself off the table. "—if you really don't like the stripes that much, I can always just change it."
"It's not so much about the stripes as it is about the colour," he tried to correct her. "The orange is just... alot."
Eve came up beside him, studying their reflections with a thoughtful frown. Her fingers hovered near her shoulders, like she was debating whether to touch the fabric or him. "You think so? I thought it'd bring out your eyes."
He glanced at her, brows raised. "Pretty sure my eyes are brown, Eve."
"Exactly," she said. "Warm tones for warm people."
"I... That's not how it works...?"
"Maybe not for you, but I make my own rules."
She lifted a hand before he could protest, a pink light shimmering faintly around her pointer finger. The orange faded, replaced by a softer, cooler shade– it looked like a combination of silver and white. The way it glimmered whenever the light hit reminded him of snow. Very fitting, considering winter was around the corner.
"There," she murmured. "Better?"
Mark nodded slowly. "Yeah, thanks."
"Good. I have something else for you."
"Two gifts in one day?" He asked. "Don't you think that's a little... much?"
"I've given you more before," said Eve lightly.
"Yeah but..." He trailed off, looking for the right words. Uhm, how does he say this? "I just feel like... you should use your powers for something that's actually worth it."
In response, she let out a soft laugh, like what he said was some kind of inside joke.
He didn't mean to sound ungrateful. He really didn't. But he couldn't help the sense of guilt that crept in every time she used her powers for him. All these things she made; a glow-in-the-dark keychain, a self-heating tumbler, at one point she even managed to make him brand new shoes to replace his old pair– and that's barely scratching the surface. They weren't grand gestures by her standards, but to him, they were almost too much.
It wasn't that he disliked them. Not at all. It was just... She'd already done much more for him than anyone ever had. She paid off his student debt, covered his tuition, made sure he could afford to think about a future. That alone was more than enough.
So why keep doing more?
It just felt wasted on him.
Maybe that was why she laughed, she thought it was funny, or rather he was funny, for thinking she could ever waste her powers on something she wanted to do.
Or maybe, she laughed because what he said was stupid on a technical level. Telling her she should use her powers for something that's 'worth it' when she was already a goddamn superhero, doing more good in a day than most people could hope in a lifetime.
"What did you get?" He decided to change the topic.
Eve lets him, short cape fluttering behind her as she turned around– a faint smile playing at her lips. "You'll see. But first, close your eyes."
Mark did.
"Now, hold out your hands."
Mark did that too.
Something light settled in his palms. The surface felt smooth and cool against his skin.
When he was finally allowed to open his eyes, he saw that in his hands sat a box wrapped in pink paper with white polka dots all over, a neat purple ribbon tied across the top for decoration. His brows furrowed slightly as he assessed the box, the light catching on the glossy surface of the paper as he turned it to its side.
This was new. Usually, when Eve gave him something, she would be straightforward with it. Sometimes there would be a build-up thing going on so the gift would be even more of a surprise, never once did she presented it like this before.
"Well?" She prompted, cutting through his thoughts. There was a hint of excitement lingering in her voice now. "What are you waiting for? Open it."
Mark gently tugged the ribbon, then peeled back the paper to open the box, which... revealed another smaller box inside. However, this one was smaller, and painted with a shade of blue that felt so familiar to him. The graphic on top of the lid was an all too recognisable yellow, four-pointed star right at the center.
His brows furrowed as recognition crawled into his mind the moment he saw the design.
He shot Eve a look, to which she only responded with a shrug. Curiousity piqued more than ever, he gently opened the lid.
Inside, resting neatly on top of a velvet cushion, was a watch– but it wasn't just any watch. The strap alongside the outer casing was a dull blue colour, the former accented with a white trim and tiny gold star motifs along the bezel. Inside the watch features the outline of a certain magical dog placed right above the watch hands. The hands themselves were a soft gold, thin and leaf-shaped, giving the watch an almost 'classy' feel. Though at the center, they were pinned together by a tiny four-pointed star charm.
Eyes widening ever so slightly, Mark opened his mouth only for the words to die right in his throat– all that resulted was a 'choked' sound spilling out. It was as if his mind had difficulty processing the sight before him, and honestly, could you blame him? After what felt like 10 seconds of gawking at the watch, he finally found his voice again.
".... a Séance Dog watch?" He set the box aside as he took the watch out, watching with rapt attention as the gold accents glinted under the light. "Eve, this is insane..."
"Good insane or bad insane?" Her arms were crossed but there was no hostility in her body language, only that she held a hint of a smile.
"Good insane," he replied easily. "This looks like it could be official. Did you make this?" He wouldn't be surprised if she did.
"Eh," she shrugged. "I could've, but authenticity matters, right?"
Mark made a quizzical hum as he pulled his eyes away from the watch, giving her a puzzled expression. "Wait, you didn't make this?"
"Nope!" Eve popped the 'p', amusement evident in her tone. "The reason it looks like it could be official is because it is official."
Putting her arms behind her back, she leaned forward slightly towards him. "I got lucky, I guess. I was coming home from dealing with Killcanon last week, when I came across this little shop that sold licenced merch. Saw this on display, and thought, hey, I know a guy who'd go insane for a Séance Dog watch."
Her eyes were pointed towards him, and Mark could feel a little heat rising to his face. He darted his gaze away before replying, "you're not wrong about that."
"I mean, you've already got all of the posters, the comics, the figures—" she gestured to his vast collection tucked at his corner of the dorm. "—but no watch? That's kind of embarrassing, Mark."
"Hey, in my defense, I didn't even know they made watches."
"Now you do," Eve shot back easily. "Plus, didn't you lose your old watch during baseball practice or something? I'd say this works out pretty nicely."
She remembered that?
He must've said his thoughts out loud, because she was giving him a slightly exasperated look. "Of course, I did. Hard to forget when you wouldn't stop complaining about it for a week."
Mark rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish look on his face. "Okay, fair. I was gonna save up for a new one, though."
"Yeah, well—" she stepped closer to him until he could feel her body heat radiating against his, her hand resting lightly on his chest. "You don't have to do that when you've got me around."
Mark stared down at the watch again. The hands of the watch seemed to gleam brighter than before, that little star charm glinting like it was winking at him. His thumb brushed over the edge of the strap, and he felt something tug at his chest.
"... Thanks, Eve," he uttered quietly. "I, uh, really appreciate this."
Instead of the typical "you're welcome" he expected, Eve stepped closer—
— and proceeded to tilt her head up and press a chaste, fleeting kiss to his lips. Barely there, but enough to short-circuit whatever thought he'd been about to voice.
By the time his mind caught up, she'd already pull back, a teasing smile tugging at her mouth like she knew exactly what she'd just done.
Her pointer finger tapped against his chest. "Don't lose this one, okay?"
Oh. He was blushing again.
As he set the watch aside, a quiet thought slipped in before he could stop it. The chances were extremely low, especially with what she told him as soon as she landed in this little dorm... but maybe, if he was lucky, this could lead to something more...
It was ridiculous, really, at how easily that hopeful little feeling crept in every time she did something thoughtful for him. He knew better by know than to hang on to a foolish kind of hope that had no business being there. But...
"Hey, Eve."
"Hm?"
Mark hesitated, drawing in a breath, which drew a curious look from her. "I was wondering, if, you could maybe... Uhm—
—ifyoucouldmaybestaylonger?"
The question came out in one rushed breath, all jumbled up together.
That made Eve blink several times, momentarily caught off-guard. If she were a normal civilian, she might've startled– instead, her eyes softened as his words properly sank in. The teasing edge in her voice melting away when she opened her mouth.
"Mark, I'd love to, but—"
"I know, I know..." He sighed, cutting her off with a resigned tone. "You got to head back first thing in the morning. You can't stay the whole night."
And just like that, the tiny spark of hope that had flickered in his chest went out as quickly as it came.
Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, instead, she reached up and fixed the collar of his new sweater, kevlar-covered fingers lightly brushing against his neck.
"You make it sound like I want to leave," she murmured.
"Don't you?"
"Not always... but I skirt around my responsibilities enough just to be here. Any more and Cecil's gonna have my ass."
Mark had no idea who this Cecil guy was, but from the context Eve liked to mention him every now and then, he figured that Cecil had to be some kind of boss. He didn't know superheroes could have bosses– he brought this up to Eve once and she immediately denied that assumption, said that he wasn't her boss, just a really important guy who 'oversaw a lot of superheroes'.
Which, to Mark, sounded a lot like something a boss would do.
Still, he wasn't a superhero, so maybe Eve was technically right.
Speaking of which, his gaze drifted to the collection of items she'd given him over the course of their so-called relationship, sitting on top of a shelf she made too and he shot them a hateful look– no, hateful was too strong of a word. As much as he felt guilty about her wasting her powers on him, he still appreciated every single one of those things. No, not hateful, more like... irked.
Yeah, he was feeling irked.
Irked that sometimes he gets carried away in this little fantasy of his, he would forget briefly that the person helping him stay afloat in college wasn't some rich elite socialite with nothing better to do and with too much money to know anything to do with.
She was someone with actual responsibilities and a job to do.
She was Atom Eve.
He'd seen her on the news more times than he could count: stopping a collapsing bridge, helping rebuild communities, beating the shit out of some stupid villain, and saving hundreds of lives nearly everyday. She'd been doing this long before they met, and would be doing this long after their sweet little arrangement ended, that is, assuming she doesn't turn into another casualty or decided to retire in the duration of their 'relationship'.
It wasn't like she was some low-grade, small-time superhero either, so the fact that she still managed to find time to visit him was a miracle in on itself.
He valued her presence, her permanency, more than any gift or trinket she could conjure in seconds. Not that she needed to know that, it would just be another piece of vulnerability laid bare, and she already knew too much about him as it was. It was funny to think that she knew Mark Grayson in and out, yet he knew little to nothing about her, the person beneath the iconic pink cape.
It made her feel further out of his reach, like something bright he could see but could never quite touch.
There were times he wondered why he even bothered, why he kept holding on to something that was clearly so above him. But then the answer always came, uninvited but clear as day, reminding him exactly why he did this in the first place.
Mark wasn't dumb. He knew what he was getting into when he listed in college, despite not being so well-off financially. He wasn't always struggling, things weren't this hard back then– his family used to manage fine, up until the car crash that screwed them over... what was supposed to be a normal drive with him and his dad, quickly turned into a tragedy.
Mark walked away with injuries and scars that faded over time, his dad... he had slipped into a coma instead.
His mom had spent everything trying to keep them both alive. Hospital bills, treatments, checkups, the whole shebang. The costs stacked higher than she could keep up with. When Nolan inevitably passed away, it wasn't just the grief that crushed them, it was the debt.
Mark had considered delaying college or skip going entirely, considered working a full-time job to help his mom get back on her feet– their feet, really. Debbie wouldn't hear it, "your education comes first," she said, over and over, even as she picked up extra jobs and shifts and came home long after midnight.
They ended up taking loans, and when tuition and living expanses piled on top of that, Mark picked up another part-time job at a different Burger Mart branch to try help lighten the load. The truth, though? It barely made a dent. Minimum wage barely covered what they owed, not when his hours were already limited by school.
Mark desperately needed funds and Eve was... lonely, for the lack of better word.
How they met and how they settled into this type of arrangement wasn't something he planned on explaining to anyone. What mattered was that, somehow, all of his worries weren't worries anymore. The endless juggling of shifts, the late nights at Burger Mart, the struggle to stay awake through his lessons as a result of those late nights, the constant anxiety of bills and debts– all of it vanished in the span of less than a week.
Mark wasn't blind or naïve to what this was between them. He'd seen enough, read enough, to know exactly what he'd gotten himself into. The only reason he didn't feel like just a booty-call was because Eve didn't treat him like some passing indulgence. She took him out on real dates, asked about his day, listened when he talked about things that probably sounded trivial to her. She remembered the smallest details, laughed at his dumb jokes even though he knew they weren't that funny, and when she looked at him, really looked at him, it wasn't with the detached fondness of someone paying for companionship.
It was with something softer. It made him feel wanted and even... loved.
It hadn't struck him as strange until he decided to look up other transactional relationships such as theirs online, and found out that it was just that, transactional.
Money and lavish gifts in exchange for intimacy and, well, for sex.
Not to say he and Eve had never done it either– sex was fun, and sex with her was amazing. Hard to get bored when Eve had a way of making everything feel effortless, especially when her constructs come into play. But it was more than just giving him a few praises and some rewards after the fact.
"Your friend isn't gonna be here tonight, right?" Eve acquired, her eyes flickered to the empty bed right across Mark's.
"What, William?" He guessed. When she nodded, he shook his head. "He's crashing at his boyfriend's for a few days, so we should be safe."
"Good," she said, and the word came out with a teasing lilt that sent a shiver down his spine. "Because I have a third present for you."
Before he could even get a word out, she was already upon him, invading his space. The shift was instant, one second she was teasing him, the next, her mouth was on his.
There was nothing innocent about their kiss this time, her intent was clear in the way her hands slid up his chest and fingers curled possessively around his neck, pulling him closer until every thought in his head scattered like dust. It took Mark a beat to catch up– a brief, startled sound leaving his throat before instincts took over, and he kissed her back with equal enthusiasm. His hands latching onto her hips the moment he did so.
The world around him narrowed down to her touch, her warmth, and the hunger building in the air between them. He could taste the sweetness of her lip balm, and something deeply, uniquely her.
It wasn't until the back of his knees bumped against the side of his bed that he realised she was guiding him backwards the whole time. They broke their kiss, and in that small pause, he saw a knowing curve of her lips that always meant trouble. It took no more than a push from her, for his legs to give out beneath him and he fell right onto the mattress. The springs inside creaked in protest as he did so.
When he looked up, Eve was already leaning over him, straddling him. Her knees placed on either side of his hips, keeping him firmly in place. One palm pressed flat and heavy over his racing heart, pining him deeper into the bedding. Her hair spilled forward in a bright curtain, shutting out rest of the world until there was nothing left but her face hovering above his.
"You look really pretty," he couldn't help but comment.
A flicker of surprise crossed Eve's face, and maybe it was the shadows from her hair framing either of their faces playing tricks on him, but Mark could've sworn he saw that playful smile of hers turn into something genuine for the briefest second, before that glint of mischief slipped right back in its place.
She tilted her head. "You really think so?"
With her gaze dipping half-lidded and her tone endearing him like silk, he didn't trust himself enough to respond properly. Anything he said at this point would probably come out as a stutter– it was a pattern he noticed often when it comes to these situations with her. So he went for a simple nod instead.
That was apparently enough for her, as she rewarded him with another touch of her lips to his, before tracing down a burning path down to his jawline, then lower, finding the frantic pulse at the base of his throat. Her tongue flicked against his skin there, drawing a ragged gasp from him.
Meanwhile, her fingers had trailed their way down to his abdomen, toying with the hem of his sweater. Her murmur vibrated against his neck, more a command than a request.
"Why don't we take this off for now?"
When Mark woke, it was to the dull ache of sore muscles and the faint sting blooming across his skin. Most prominently on his neck, chest, and thighs. But what roused him wasn't the pain, it was the shift of weight beside him, the soft dip and creak of the mattress beneath. A telltale sign that a certain someone had gotten up.
A sliver of dissapointment threaded through the haze in his head when the warmth beside him dissapeared, replaced by the cool touch of air. He was so comfortable, too...
A soft, almost static sound reached his ears. He blinked his bleary eyes open then, vision adjusting to the dim light spilling through the window. Eve stood near it, already dressed in her hero attire. The pink glow of her powers haloed her for a heartbeat before instantly fading as soon as she was done. She managed to look so perfect so quickly... composed and clean, with not a single strand of hair out of place. As if their activities last night hadn't even touched her.
Furrowing his brows a bit, he shifted under the sheets. The movements and rustle caught her attention.
"Did I wake you?" Eve threw him a glance. "Sorry, I was trying to be as quiet as possible."
"... 's fine..." He mumbled, his words muffled by the pillow. "What time is it?"
"Four."
He blinked. "Four?"
"Yeah."
"And... you're leaving already?"
"Gotta be back before the sun's up," she quipped with a brief shrug of her shoulders.
For some reason, it didn't sit right with Mark how casually she said that.
"Stay?" again.
She sighed. "Mark..."
"I know," he quickly said. "Sorry. I just—yeah, never mind."
At that moment, Eve crouched beside him, she reached out, combing her fingers gently through his hair. The touch was light, almost absentminded, and he couldn't help but lean into it.
"I'll visit as soon as I can," she muttered. "For now, you should go back to sleep. You've got class in a few hours."
He groaned. "You sound like my mom."
She huffed a laugh under her breath, thumb brushing once against his temple before she stood. "Then listen to me for once."
Mark wanted to argue, but he stayed silent instead.
He watched as Eve neared the window once more, unlocked the window latch and pushed it open. More cool air rushed in, sending shivers across his skin even through all the blankets, causing him to instinctively curl deeper under layers of fabric.
She climbed onto the ledge with ease, one foot already braced against the sill. Before leaving, she turned back to him, one hand holding the window frame and the other placed on her hip.
"Seriously though, get some sleep."
With just the crackle of her thrusters and a flash of bright pink light, she was gone.
For a long moment, Mark just laid there, eyes fixed on the empty spot Where she'd been seconds ago. The curtains billowed inward, pushed by the same breeze that had carried her away. Barely even a minute, and her absence was already pressing around him.
He exhaled and rolled onto his back. The ceiling stared blankly down at him.
"Great," he deadpanned, though still thick with sleep. "Now I'm awake and cold."
He laid there for another minute or two, hoping the lingering warmth in the sheets might trick him into drifting off again. It didn't. With another groan, Mark finally pushed himself upright, blanket sliding off his body. His sore muscles protested the movements as he shuffled to the window, and pulled it shut, the click of the latch echoing in the stillness.
He didn't return to bed immediately, despite his heavy desire to go back to sleep as soon as possible. He stood there, palm resting agains the glass, watching over the campus' courtyard as if he might still caught glimpse.
His gaze strayed to the table where the watch sat, he crossed the room and picked it up. Guess he should keep this somewhere safe. He placed the watch back in the box it came with and closed the lid, then he stored the box next to the Séance Dog action figure sitting proudly inside his shelf.
William might make fun of him for being such a fanboy, but he'll start wearing it tomorrow.
Not that she will notice... or care.
The little fantasy bubble he'd been floating in started to thin and burst, now that she was gone. Reality hit him like cold water. In this state, he could stop twisting every small gesture into something meaningful, stop pretending her affection was anything more than what it really was.
He could swoon all he wanted, but deep down, he knew it was just something to keep him hooked. She probably didn't even think twice about the things she'd done for him. All the gifts, the touches, and the kisses... It was to give the illusion of something deeper.
He'd take it, for as long as she'd let him. If it meant his tuition was covered and his mom didn't have to worry so much anymore– then he'd keep playing along.
With a sigh, he trudged back to his bed and flopped face-first onto the pillow.
She probably had other people she was doing this with anyway, he thought somewhat bitterly. Other names, other beds, and other faces she'd smile at the same way. He wouldn't be surprised if she did, considering her status, she could fuck whoever she wanted.
Mark wasn't special. He knew that.
But damn, sometimes he wished he was.