MHA #15, then #MHA 14, Saturday Morning

[pocketpretzels]

Last night had been pleasant, if excessively glittery. Following the dance, Watts and Steven had checked in to the hotel and-

... Promptly fallen asleep. What?

Now it was morning, though, and the first hints of consciousness were beginning to filter through Watts's mind.

"Mrrph," he rolled over, instinctively reaching for where Steven ought to be. Except there was nobody there. Still mostly asleep, Watts started to dismiss that as oh, well, clearly Steven woke up first and is over by the desk making terrible hotel coffee-

"Steven woke up first"? Yeah, no. Steven was even less of a morning person than Watts himself was. Something was definitely wrong. Starting with the fact that this wasn't a hotel room at all, but his old apartment. Now fully awake- and concerned- Watts got dressed and started to look around in an effort to figure out just what the hell had gone on here.

His first stop was his mobile phone on the nightstand, which looked... older? He squinted at it, and then sighed and grabbed his glasses (which unlike his actual current phone had survived the transition) and squinted at it again: 2022-07-30, read the date.

"Twenty years," he muttered. "Criminy." That would place them at- what, a few months after they'd both arrived in Fandom? Maybe a month after they'd started dating? The lack of decoration in his apartment more or less confirmed the timing. Though he still wanted to know where the hell Steven had ended up, if not with him.

First stop? Across the hall, to Steven and Marc's apartment. Muscle memory had him fishing out his keyring even though they'd not lived in Fandom for years, but of course the key wasn't on the ring: they wouldn't be exchanging those for some time yet. So, knocking it was.

[ooc: for thems that live there! that watts headed over to visit is fine for broadcast, details of conversation NFB please.]

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

Marc definitely made note of that as he got a pot of coffee going. It led nicely into the other things that had been put on hold while he triaged. "Twenty years?"

Could Marc have added more words to that? Yes. Did he ever learn to do so? No.

[pocketpretzels]

That just meant it was familiar! Which was honestly kind of reassuring in a weird way.

"Twenty years," Watts echoed. "In which we've managed to build rather a nice life."

Yes, that 'we' meant himself and Steven. But also Marc- and someone else, actually- was included in that as well. Though that wasn't a bomb he wanted to drop right away. Maybe in a few minutes.

[hasaknightjob]

Coffee brewing, Marc started pulling out what was needed for bagels (Fandom based, so really "bagels" but what could you do?) and lox for breakfast. If Watts wanted something else - well he was familiar with the kitchen. He could go nuts.

And on the topic of why he was familiar with the kitchen, "Twenty years with Steven?" Because yes, Marc had clocked that detail but put it on the back burner until he could breathe.

[pocketpretzels]

... Yeah, Watts was just going to go straight for the (cold, sigh, thanks ever so for that, John Harvey Kellogg) cereal, rummaging around the fridge for the carton of non-dairy milk to accompany it.

"Yes," he replied. "Does that surprise you?"

[hasaknightjob]

"I'm wondering when I took you off probation," Marc replied, his comment more idle curiosity than accusation. Not that he'd ever told present day version of Watts he'd been on probation regarding Marc allowing him around Steven. But after their first (and to date only) meeting Marc felt it'd been heavily implied.

[pocketpretzels]

Yeah, he'd picked up what Marc had been putting down there, to use one of the many phrases he'd, ah, picked up, over the years.

"It took a while," Watts said, with a wry smile as he recalled those early days. "But you did warm up to me."

[hasaknightjob]

"I warm up to people?" Marc replied, dry as the bagel he took out of the toaster. In truth he wondered if it was this very weekend which did it. Proof that Watts really would stick around in spite of it all - and Marc himself was only one item on that list - wasn't nothing. Marc was Marc, though, so he had to ask, "Is he okay?"

[pocketpretzels]

"Yes," Watts said, his expression turning fond. "He's more than okay. He's happy. A significant part of that is owed to the fact that you are too," he said pointedly.

[hasaknightjob]

The coffee was ready so Marc got to pouring. He snorted at Watts's comment. "Well now I know you're full of shit. But good try."

[pocketpretzels]

Watts rolled his eyes. "I most assuredly am not. Me and Steven, you and Layla. As I said, we've built a nice life."

[hasaknightjob]

Okay now Marc was shooting him a look. "That's not even funny."

[pocketpretzels]

"It's not meant to be," he sighed, not at all cowed by that look. "I suppose I ought to have known you'd react like this."

[hasaknightjob]

Okay, this was clearly some multiverse type bullshit. Some version of Watts from some other planet or timeline, same as all the other people from similar worlds but not exactly. Nothing that applied to Marc.

"And you know me so well," Marc replied, the sarcasm almost thick enough to be tangible. Because come on.

[pocketpretzels]

"I've picked up a thing or two about you in the intervening years beyond 'Cubs fan', yes," Watts said, around a mouthful of cereal. "Such as the real reason you first struck a deal with Konshu. Not to save yourself, but to save Steven."

[hasaknightjob]

Well shit. Marc hadn't even told Steven that. In fact he never planned to. Which did raise the next question: "Does Steven know?"

[pocketpretzels]

"Yes," Watts said. "There was- well, it was a bit of an emergency, it came up."

[hasaknightjob]

"When isn't there?" Marc muttered, meaning it for both his life and general and the way of things back home. Which was why it wasn't worth it to even ask what the emergency had been. There was always some bullshit.

He gave Watts a long, assessing look. "Congrats I guess. Not that knowing me's a prize."

In general or to that level of detail, frankly, by Marc's way of thinking. But apparently some version of him trusted Watts with it. Which spoke volumes about how much this guy was good for Steven since that was the only way Marc would've let it happen.

[pocketpretzels]

"Fairly certain the majority of the Toronto Constabulary would have said the same about me, once upon a time," Watts pointed out.

The only reason they didn't now is because he'd never actually gone back for more than brief visits after settling in Fandom. "Prize or not, you're family."

[hasaknightjob]

There seemed to be a resonance with those words beyond the sentiment. He tried to see if Watts was wearing a wedding ring. "You and Steven...?"

[pocketpretzels]

Watts held up his left hand so Marc could see that indeed there was a simple gold band on his ring finger.

"The legality of it is, of course..." he wiggled his other hand in a 'so-so' motion. Given that Marc was the one on all the non-forged paperwork and Watts himself came from another reality and time entirely, and all. "But the important part is that we stood before God and our friends and made that commitment, yes."

[hasaknightjob]

Something inside Marc relaxed at that. Sure this might be some weird multiverse thing and not a vision of Steven's actual future. But it was still a Steven. Having the life he deserved. There wasn't much that made Marc happy, but that was really fucking high on the list.

"Mazel tov," he told Watts, and meant it. He smirked. "I can guess which god it wasn't."

Wait. If Layla was still around - and Marc was purposefully not dwelling on the implications of that - that could only mean one thing.

"The hippo insisted on helping with the decorations, didn't she?"

[pocketpretzels]

"Did she ever," Watts said with a shake of his head. Of course it had all been relayed via Layla but Taweret had had no shortage of Opinions.

[hasaknightjob]

"Better you than me," Marc said. As though Layla wasn't guaranteed an invite to any wedding of Steven's regardless of her relationship status with Marc. And again: purposefully sailing right past the implications of what that status was. Also ignoring how much they weren't implications so much as Watts flat out saying them.

Marc brushed off the last crumbs of his breakfast into the sink. "Living room? May as well sit while you keep telling me about the ghosts of Hanukkah future."

[pocketpretzels]

“All right,” Watts agreed, rinsing out his own bowl once Marc was finished at the sink. There were of course things he couldn’t- and wouldn’t- mention but no sense bringing that up unless forced to.

[hasaknightjob]

Much as in their - for Watts first, for Marc only - meeting, Marc took the side chair and left the couch for Watts. Casually, he asked, "So he likes that mustache?"