Learning to Love Without You (Nateiplier/Septiplier AU)

December 8, 2014

The smaller hands fit like a vice grip around his face, as they try desperately to keep the dark eyes from the surprise as long as possible. The foot steps towards the living room, or so Mark hopes that's the direction that they are going are tiny and tentative. As if the ground was made the finest of breakable glass.

"I am perfectly capable of covering my own eyes, you know," his mumbles. "The way your fingers are stabbing my eyeballs I'm going to end up actually blind soon enough. You really suck at covering eyes."

The snort of a laugh erupts to the slight right of Mark's ear, and the grip if anything tightens.

"My hands are fine," Nate retorts. "It isn't my fault that you have a huge head. Now stop complaining and move a little faster there, grandpa."

The taller man smirks as he quickens their pace, the man in front of him is laughing again in his ears. Then, after they stop and after making sure that Mark's eyes are definitely closed underneath, the hands pull away from his face. The other flinches slightly at the brighter lighter that pours through his eyelids, and waits for additional instructions.

The warm breakfast of French Toast and scrambled eggs, which is the only good breakfast meal that his husband can make, turns slightly in his stomach with anticipation of what must just be right in from of him.

"Ready," asks the voice, the excitement obvious.

"I've been married to you for two years now," Mark replies. "I'm ready for anything."

Nate chuckles again.

"All right, smart ass. Open those sexy eyes."

The eyes open, and the mouth follows with the classic look of surprise. In the back of his mind he wonders how in the hell Nate even got it in the apartment, let alone up the stairs. It was a giant Happy Anniversary card, made out of what Mark assumes is at least three poster boards welded together with glue and fierce determination.

Little drawings of musical notes and words cover almost every inch of the front and there seems to be even more spilling from the inside of the card. Obviously the card was completely handmade. Hallmark would never sell anything this gigantic and this incredibly cheesy.

"Happy anniversary, babe!"

Mark laughs louder than he has in a while at the gift, until his cheeks are running over with tears. The two of them always loved to out do each other with the most tacky and ridiculous anniversary gifts that they could find or make, but this blew Mark's last year's gift of the rapping dog out of the figurative water. The fuzzy dalmatian toy had sunglasses hugging his nose, and dropped what Nate admitted was a pretty "sick beat" as it exclaimed to anyone stupid enough to stand too close that "I Ruff you so very very ruff!"

"This..." Mark choked, his hands on his knees as he doubled up with laughter, "You've out done yourself this year, rock star. I've never been so proud."

Once Mark is able to stand up straight, he takes a long while to admire his husband's work. Each and every little drawing of a music note of silly little flower on the card, which towered over them both, was drawn on or written in by hand. It must have taken Nate days to finish it.

"Eight days, actually, off and on," he admits, "But the look on your face and your belly laughs made it totally worth it. Ms. Kale down the hall let me hide it in her dining room until today. I'm fairly certain at this point she thinks that we're both fucking mad."

"She's not far off," Mark smirks, reaching out his hand for Nate to take. "You realize at this point I'm going to have to find a way to top this. Maybe fill the entire place up with balloons that say how much I want to bone you, or something like that."

Nate wraps his arms around the strong neck and chuckles softly, his brown eyes floating to the right to imagine such a sight. There would be no way that Mark could afford such a thing on his salary. However the threat of being smothered by sex puns in balloon declaration is just the type of thing that Mark would figure out how to make work within their agreed upon anniversary budget.

"Let's just stick with things that won't cause any more neighbors to be concerned about our sanity, okay?"

The kiss to Nate lips is a tender one, as he can just feel his feet leaving the ground. Mark's strength has always been something that made kissing him the best thing in the world. Something to hold onto when there was nothing else but them, and the occasional word or phrase of a song.

At some point today, knowing his husband like he does, Mark will read absolutely every word on every inch of that card. The tanned finger moving along to make sure he doesn't miss even one tiny detail long after Nate has given up and gone to bed. Then he'll whisper some of the same words in his ear as he nuzzles him awake, to finally make love on their anniversary, a couple hours into the next day.

Nate will casually mention that it's technically no longer December the eighth, but he will melt into his arm, nevertheless.