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no_true_pairTitle: Blind Spot
Fandom: Moon Knight (Marvel comics)
Pairing/Characters: Marc Spector & Jean-Paul Duchamp
Rating: General
Content Notes: Injuries, negative self-image
Prompt: September Seven - Marc Spector has no idea what he looks like to Jean-Paul Duchamp
In all their years together, Jean-Paul had seen Marc looking bad before, a hundred times over. He'd seen him shot, blown up, buried under rubble, burned, battered, bloodied. He'd seen him dead.
It didn't get easier, even for the things that were, on balance, minor.
Marc caught him staring as he took his jacket off and grimaced, lifting a hand to the fresh, bloody puncture wounds in his neck. "That bad?"
"No, no, it's not so bad," Jean-Paul assured him. "But get into the shower anyway so that I can bandage you up. Steven and I have plans tonight, and you know how he complains about getting blood on his silk shirts."
"Well, I'm not going to apologize to Grant for looking out for Soldier." Marc eased his shirt down over his shoulders, hissing as the blood-stiff fabric tugged at new slashes in his skin. "You hear me, Steven? We owe him big. A little blood is nothing. Frenchie, can you—?"
Jean-Paul stepped up wordlessly and helped him pull off the ruined white shirt.
Underneath the formerly-stark-white costume, he was a mass of colorful bruises and cuts. Jean-Paul skimmed his fingers over a red-and-purple mark spreading over Marc's ribs. It would be a miracle if nothing was broken under there. "Ouch," he remarked mildly. "What was it?"
"Boneyard demon, I think, maybe summoned by a magic-user. Keeps popping up in cemeteries and morgues to make zombies, and this time it brought hellhounds with it. Hunter's Moon is looking into it now." Marc rubbed at his face. He looked exhausted. "Grant's taking you out somewhere nice?"
"Very nice. A new place he thinks I should take Rob to for our anniversary, in Williamsburg." Jean-Paul smiled at Marc's expression. "Yes, I know you never go there by choice. Perhaps if it were under siege by zombies?"
"Not even then." Marc shook his head. "Well. I should get out of here, let you two get to it."
There was always a touch of brittleness in him, maybe hurt, maybe jealousy, when Jean-Paul spent time with the others, as though he thought he'd prefer Steven or Jake to him. Because Marc was so deeply wounded by his past, because he saw Marc Spector as the worst part of himself, he still didn't understand why it was him Jean-Paul had loved all those years. Not Steven, not Jake. They'd all had pieces of Marlene's heart, but Jean-Paul's had already been firmly set on him. Marc had never been able to see that.
Jean-Paul laid his hand on the one unbruised, unbloodied spot on his old friend's shoulder. "Go and clean up, mon ami. I'll get the bandages and tape ready."
Fandom: Moon Knight (Marvel comics)
Pairing/Characters: Marc Spector & Jean-Paul Duchamp
Rating: General
Content Notes: Injuries, negative self-image
Prompt: September Seven - Marc Spector has no idea what he looks like to Jean-Paul Duchamp
In all their years together, Jean-Paul had seen Marc looking bad before, a hundred times over. He'd seen him shot, blown up, buried under rubble, burned, battered, bloodied. He'd seen him dead.
It didn't get easier, even for the things that were, on balance, minor.
Marc caught him staring as he took his jacket off and grimaced, lifting a hand to the fresh, bloody puncture wounds in his neck. "That bad?"
"No, no, it's not so bad," Jean-Paul assured him. "But get into the shower anyway so that I can bandage you up. Steven and I have plans tonight, and you know how he complains about getting blood on his silk shirts."
"Well, I'm not going to apologize to Grant for looking out for Soldier." Marc eased his shirt down over his shoulders, hissing as the blood-stiff fabric tugged at new slashes in his skin. "You hear me, Steven? We owe him big. A little blood is nothing. Frenchie, can you—?"
Jean-Paul stepped up wordlessly and helped him pull off the ruined white shirt.
Underneath the formerly-stark-white costume, he was a mass of colorful bruises and cuts. Jean-Paul skimmed his fingers over a red-and-purple mark spreading over Marc's ribs. It would be a miracle if nothing was broken under there. "Ouch," he remarked mildly. "What was it?"
"Boneyard demon, I think, maybe summoned by a magic-user. Keeps popping up in cemeteries and morgues to make zombies, and this time it brought hellhounds with it. Hunter's Moon is looking into it now." Marc rubbed at his face. He looked exhausted. "Grant's taking you out somewhere nice?"
"Very nice. A new place he thinks I should take Rob to for our anniversary, in Williamsburg." Jean-Paul smiled at Marc's expression. "Yes, I know you never go there by choice. Perhaps if it were under siege by zombies?"
"Not even then." Marc shook his head. "Well. I should get out of here, let you two get to it."
There was always a touch of brittleness in him, maybe hurt, maybe jealousy, when Jean-Paul spent time with the others, as though he thought he'd prefer Steven or Jake to him. Because Marc was so deeply wounded by his past, because he saw Marc Spector as the worst part of himself, he still didn't understand why it was him Jean-Paul had loved all those years. Not Steven, not Jake. They'd all had pieces of Marlene's heart, but Jean-Paul's had already been firmly set on him. Marc had never been able to see that.
Jean-Paul laid his hand on the one unbruised, unbloodied spot on his old friend's shoulder. "Go and clean up, mon ami. I'll get the bandages and tape ready."
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Date: 2022-09-09 05:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-09-09 06:03 am (UTC)