Work Text:
Nathaniel loves spending money on Marc, for as long as he remembers. When they were teenagers it was common that the lovesick redhead would pay for dates, and other luxuries that his beloved wanted.
"Happy birthday, Marc!" The ginger teen beamed at the noiret, holding out the small red gift box to him.
"Thanks, Nath," he replied. "But you really didn't have to get me anything."
"Of course I had to give you something, you're special to me."
That comment made Marc's heart melt.
"Well in that case..." He said while taking the gift out of Nathaniel's palm.
The illustrator swayed in anticipation as his writer pulled at the gold ribbon, freeing the box. He slowly opened the present, speculating what he'd gotten him.
"Chappell Roan tickets?" He looked in astonishment. He saved up all summer to go but the venue was already full. How did Nathaniel even get these?
"I pulled a few strings" The redhead had a slightly mischievous grin on his face.
"...what strings?" Marc was almost too afraid to ask.
"Welllll turns out there were some people who regretted buying those tickets so I tracked them down and offered them double the price they originally paid for!" (灬^‿^灬)♡
"WHAT?! Nath, each ticket is around €400...you mean to tell me you spent €1600 for me?"
"Yup!"
Marc wanted to cry.
But he's not sure if it's because of Nathaniel's huge heart (and wallet), or because he thought he's just done the stupidest thing in mankind.
A bit of both, maybe.
"Nath...you really didn't have to do this."
"I know!" \(^_^)/
The noiret seriously wanted to slap his partner's head just to make sure there was a brain in there. But he can't when his lover is looking at him so affectionately. Are his parents ok with this? The last thing Marc would want is to seem like a gold-digger. Nathaniel's parents has already rejected him once.
It was never a problem for Nath to give Marc anything he desired. He loved him. Isn't that what you do for the people you love? Sure, there are times he's gone overboard; luxurious vacations, dates at the finest restaurants, and expensive gifts that could buy Marc's childhood home. There isn't a single thing he wouldn't do for him. Marc is kind, generous, and ridiculously good-looking. While Nathaniel is disorganised and has a hot temper. How could Marc ever love a man like him? The closest thing the illustrator can do is give his dear the world for loving a man as imperfect as him.
This time, Nathaniel has bought Marc a motorcycle for his 26th birthday. He was reluctant at first, due to the amount of accidents that occur on those death machines. But watching the noiret's face light up in joy as he admires his new ride was enough to convince the man.
He wanted to give him everything.
"Are you sure you don't want a car instead, honey?"
"Absolutely not! This is the best thing I've ever gotten!"
The writer runs up to Nathaniel and gives him a hug so strong it lifts him off his feet (not that it takes much effort anyways).
"Thank you, Nath, really. How can I ever repay you?"
"You already did, darling. With your love."
Marc stared at his husband with extra love in his eyes. He was always such a sweet-talker. The noiret connected his forehead to the shorter man and stayed like that for a few seconds.
"Well, do you wanna test drive it with me?" The taller man spoke.
"What?" Concern riddled the ginger's voice.
"Cmon, you'll enjoy it Nath, I promise"
The tanned man ran to his motorcycle, opened the box compartment and pulled out an extra black helmet.
"Oh hell no." Nathaniel stated strictly. "I'm not riding on that death trap.
"Please?" Marc pleaded, mirroring the expression of a baby puppy.
It was hard to say no to that irresistible face. Rolling his eyes, he snatched the helmet from Marc's hand and placed it on his head, ready to have the best — or worst — time of his life.
"Ready?"
"No."
"Ok, here we go!"
Pure enthusiasm was how Marc would describe that first experience.
Some neighbours reported that they heard Nathaniel's screams fade away as the motorcycle sped off into the afternoon sky.
In an alternate universe
'I'm not riding with you on that death trap, Reverser. What if I fly off?"
"Oh don't be a party-pooper, Evie." The monochrome man grinned slyly while circling the redhead with his paper plane. "I promise you won't fall~"
Evillustrator didn't trust a word coming out of Reverser's mouth. But for some reason that small itch of danger is begging him to take that risk. He reluctantly stepped onto the hoverboard, making himself see eye-to-eye with the bicoloured man.
"You ready?"
"Absolutely not."
"Ok, here we go!"
