Work Text:
Simple Things
Chi Shiro
It was a simple thing that got him thinking about the nature of their relationship. The card had come in the mail. Something he didn’t need to do since they shared an abode. But that was the way Bobby liked to do things. He liked to make a show out of the little things in life. Like mailing a card instead of just leaving it taped to Hank’s door.
There was nothing special about the card. A routine, run of the mill thing that could be had at any corner store at two for a dollar. It was white on the outside with big balloon like hearts splashed over the cover. The inside was an equally cheesy looking cat holding one of the cartoonish hearts. No, it was the sentiment that had him perplexed.
“Every day, in every way, you make my life a better place because it has you in it.”
Now, Hank was not a stupid man. He knew friends often gave friends cards for Valentine’s Day. He would have been slightly disappointed if he had not received a card from the team’s resident prankster at large. It didn’t feel like the kind of card that he should receive from a friend, though.
The every day part was true enough. It had been a long time since the duo had spent more than 24 hours apart. They spent more time together than most married couples. Every way was a little bit trickier. Yes, they did practically everything together. They even showered together after sessions in the danger room. They woke up at nearly the same time every day. They ate breakfast together. They were normally the last person the other would talk to before going to bed at night. But it just didn’t feel right, that elusive every way. It felt like there should be a deeper meaning to those simple words.
He read the card over again, thankful that the blush was hidden under his blue fur. Every day. Every day in every way. He was making someone’s world better because he simply continued to breathe. He couldn’t think of anyone else who would feel that way about him. Sure, his parents loved him but he was their adult child. And Trish, Trish was just a complicated mess most days. She hadn’t even bothered to make plans for them today of all days. She would be covering the mass wedding in Central Park while he was at home, drinking beers with Bobby.
He should probably be concerned that he was spending Valentine’s Day with another man, but that man was Bobby. The same Bobby who was his teammate and friend. They were practically brothers. They had certainly spent enough time with each others’ families to qualify as kin of some kind.
He was resolved to sit the card down and think no more of it. It was a card, after all, not a proposal of betrothal. He wondered where that thought came from. No one had said anything about marriage. Marriage was the farthest thing from his mind and he would most likely never marry Trish. And that was a shame, wasn’t it? To spend years cultivating a relationship only to have it come for naught.
Not like his relationship with Bobby, this would be around long after Trish was gone. He gave himself a mental smack for thinking that. He needed to stop equating Bobby with Trish and romantic relationships. He didn’t want anything resembling a romantic relationship with his best friend. Even if Bobby made him laugh like no one else in the world could. And it had been Bobby who had been there when his mother was ill. Patricia had been out on assignment and couldn’t bother to give him the time he needed.
There he went again, comparing apples and oranges. He was, well, not straight per say but he did favor women. He certainly had never considered a relationship with a man past friendship before. That wasn’t entirely true either. He had wondered about it. He had found himself staring at Bobby’s lips more than once, pondering if they were as soft as they looked. Bobby was liberal with the chapstick, so they most likely were.
He glared at the card, the offending cheesy cat grinning back at him. The little slip of paper had started it all. Why, oh why, had Bobby chosen to pen that verse? It was making him think and thinking could be a very dangerous past time. Especially when one was thinking about how one’s girlfriend just couldn’t compare to one’s boyfriend.
“He is not my boyfriend,” he hissed at the heart covered tempter.
“Who’s not your boyfriend, Blue?” Bobby’s timing couldn’t have been worse. Of all things why must he walk in on Hank yelling at a card? The very card that Bobby himself had given him? Hank muttered something under his breath. “What was that, Hankster?”
“I said, you are not my boyfriend,” the blue man replied. Bobby tilted his head, confusion and hurt written in his eyes. Hank quickly went to right the perceived wrong. “Not that you wouldn’t make a lovely boyfriend. You are already more attentive to me than Ms. Tilby has been on this holiday.”
“Hank, what’s going on? Are you feeling alright?”
“I am perfectly well, my friend, though thank you for asking. I am simply dealing with a puzzle that has captured my attention and is refusing to give it up.“ He attempted a weak smile before plugging ahead with his conundrum. “Robert, I do not understand your card. It has me quite befuddled.”
“What don’t you understand, Hank,” Bobby asked with nearly as much confusion in his voice as Hank felt.
Before he lost what nerve he had been building toward, Hank surged forward. He swooped the smaller man into an embrace, crushing the two of them together. His hands roamed to the small of Bobby’s back, attempting to pull him in even closer. His head fell to meet the younger man’s, capturing Bobby’s lips with his own. Rather than thrust him away Bobby pushed up into the lip lock. His mouth was every bit as soft as Hank had imagined it would be.
“Seems,” Bobby panted as they broke apart, “that you got it to me. Happy Valentine’s Day, Hank”
“Happy Valentine’s Day to you, Bobby.”
-Chi