Work Text:
Frosty and the Beast
by Pirate Turner
Bobby had just slipped into his love's laboratory when Hank smashed his latest test tube. "I just do not comprehend it!" he cried, unaware of Bobby's presence. His fangs flashed up at the fluorescent lights, and Bobby cringed as he nearly howled. "If this is some kind of a colossal joke of the Gods, no one finds it humorous in the slightest! All the technology in the worlds," he cried, sweeping his big, furry arms across the table and knocking off a dozen tubes, "and still I am but a monster! I can dye my fur pink or green or cover with it polka dots or make it curlier than Shirley Temple's mop head, but I can not remove it!"
He fell silent, leaning over his table, and his massive shoulders shook slightly. Bobby inched closer to him, caught between not wanting to embarrass his love and his fear of making him angry at him and the desire and need to comfort him. At last, he reached him, and Hank jerked his body to a sudden, still stature the very second Bobby laid his hand upon his quivering shoulder. "Hank," Bobby spoke softly, "you're not a monster."
"What would you know of it, Robert?" he whimpered, not moving to look at him.
Bobby smirked in self-derision. "More than I'd like," he admitted. "You know my Father thinks I'm a monster. Even he doesn't want anything to do with me more than what he has to because of my mutant genes, and Mom goes along with him. My own parents consider me a monster, Hank, while yours love you. None of us are monsters because of our genes, and you're not a monster because of your fur."
He caressed the soft, blue fur in question. "In fact, I find it rather alluring." His brown eyes twinkled, but still his love did not turn to face him.
"You would," he muttered. "I know how your parents are, darling, but still it's not the same. You can go out and public without having to incorporate an image inducer and still not provoke screams from every homo sapien you pass."
"You can get up there on the tv," Bobby reminded him gently, "and argue with the world's leaders over the latest scientific break throughs. The only time I ever get my handsome mug on the television is when we're wanted for something again." Hank could not argue with that acknowledgement. "And yeah, I can go out in public, but let me ice up, just once, for any reason, and everybody around me starts screaming and running. They don't see the real me, Blue. They just see the me they want to see."
He ran his hands soothingly over Hank's furry back. "That's the case with anybody really. No matter what you look like on the outside, the world's only going to see you for whatever they want to see you as. But it's not important what the world thinks. You know that, Hank, or otherwise, you wouldn't keep going to all those press conferences trying to help people despite their being scared of you."
"And they're idiots to be scared of you. You're the gentlest soul I've ever known, even if you do kick major butt great when needed. You'd rather talk your way out of any situation than have to fight, and there's not many left who go by that motto. Most people, mutant or human, would just rather throw a few punches and get it over. But you . . . Every day of your life, you do all you can to help every one in the world, and you always use violence for a last resort."
"If they see a beast, let them see a beast, but your beast is as gentle and sweet as the Beast in every Beauty and the Beast story really is. You pretend to be ferocious when you have to be, but inside you're the sweetest man ever." He kissed his back. "And your Prince is just as wonderful and gallant as any Prince in any fairy tale, plus way smarter."
"Besides," he concluded, still stroking his fur, "like I've said before and will say every day for the rest of our lives if it takes it to make you understand how I feel about your transformation, I like your fur. It's soft and sweet, and blue's definitely your best color." At last, he turned him around to face him. Hank's teary eyes dropped to the floor, but they sparkled just slightly with a twinge of hope when Bobby lifted his furry chin with a crooked finger. He dried his tears from his handsome, yellow eyes. "Sometimes I think They're playing a colossal joke on us, too, but it's never because of what you look like. You're handsome. Even after all these years, just looking at you still takes my breath away. No one in all the worlds can compare to you, and this super soft fur of yours," he stroked the fur on his biceps, "is just an added bonus that makes me love you all the more!"
He caressed him, put his arms around him, and then leaned up and kissed him. Slowly Hank's hands inched across Bobby's waist until he held him to him and continued to kiss him, his tongue plunging softly deeper into his sweet mouth. It was an unargued fact that Hank possessed one of the grandest vocabularies of any man to ever walk the planet, and yet Hank knew that the real sweet talker, when he needed to hear his words the most, was truly his beloved Robert. Bobby always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better; no matter how the world had crushed his spirits, his sweetheart always lifted them again.
He was no monster, Hank knew again thanks to his beloved's encouragement and words of love. Even if all the children at the hospital had shrieked and ran from him when he'd gone to administer the latest cure he'd created, he still was not a monster. He was a man, a mere, mortal man who was incredibly lucky to have the wonderful man in his arms loving and adoring him and who, just as Bobby had said, always did everything he could to save the world. That would never end, nor would the love he felt for the soul mate to whom he now clung.
He feared, however, that the world's opinion of him would also never change. There'd always be ones who admired him for his intellect and others who tolerated him for all the good he had brought into their world, but the population at large would always fear him. Thanks to those narrowed minds, there would probably always be times when Hank questioned himself, but as long as he had his beloved Bobby there to pick up his pieces, the world would remain a bright place indeed no matter how many others tried their best to darken it. With Bobby's loving, he'd always come home to the realization that he had since they had been teenagers, and that was that there was no one else he'd rather be than the man, and Beast, he was just as long as his Bobby loved him.
Bobby paused their kiss and stroked his furry cheek as he gazed into his now sparkling eyes. "Now stop trying to change the perfection that's you and tell me, love: How do you feel about me?" he asked. "Am I monster?"
"Never!" Hank rumbled, purring. He hugged him tightly. "You are the most wondrous creation with which the Gods have ever blessed this planet or this lowly Beast, and I love you with all my heart, soul, and being for now, forever, for all eternity, and infinitely beyond, Robert Drake!"
Bobby grinned widely as Hank's lips angled down for his again. "I know," he told him. "Now show me," he breathed just as Hank kissed him again. Hank picked him up, turned him around, sat him down on his laboratory table, and began to do just that while never once pausing in kissing the man he loved and who always saved him, and would forever rescue him from himself, time and again for as long as they lived and happily ever after.
The End