Archive of Our Own ^beta

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Behind the backdrop of painted plywood, a new Suit slinks out of the light and into his shadow domain. Trailed by Beauty, he descends haloed by blue sky, free from chains. Beauty spoke to him sternly, pressing the Suit, hemming him up from bottom to top with more appointments than he could imagine. Horizontal stripes replaced with pinstripes. Straight up and down now. Although some things remained crooked. His smile, his nose, but not the suit. Guy steps forward into the light, the Suit steps in front of Beauty, silver strands sparkling in the sunlight.

“Fuck, you scared me!”

Some things never change.

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Red smeared across his vision, viciously sweet, her heels a thunderclap against the concrete. Red petals dripping from her hand and her dress and her ears, flowing lusciously down to the very soles of her feet. She floated into Cody’s arms. Held aloft by dingy white, showering him with the viscera of Guy’s heart, his blood smeared across her lips.

She tore it from him moments earlier. Now here they are, their strands of gold mixing together like a veil, bits of hard stems spilled from her arm the old thorns piercing his sad soul, emerald green takes rose red.

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The man, handsome, young, some kind of rich, yammered on and on about his philanthropic exploits.

“One of you turn on the charm on.” Terry hissed through the mic. “…Please.”

Max sighed to herself, but a switch flipped, in her and Dana too. A waiter walked by and Dana nuzzled her arm, glancing sweetly at the tray full of pretty little glasses. Infectious, Max smiled sweetly at their philanthropist playboy, rimming the edge of his collar with her finger.

The tracker was small, indistinguishable, and quick to escape her hand, just like the bubbles in their pretty crystal glass.

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Rain battered the tin roof like sticks on a metal drum. It rolled down in a torrent hard enough that Aran thought it was hail at first. So concerned for Granny’s soft skin he picked her up and sprinted towards the tool shed where they now lay in wait.

Kita trailed behind him, his boyish laughter mingling with the rough sound of the spontaneous thunderstorm. Aran grimaced at the water soaking them both to the bone. Through the overalls, the shirts, the arm protectors.

Kita patted him lovingly and reached for the lopsided candle matches sitting on the dusty work table.

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“Where’s your brother?”

Yun shrugged and let him in. The bedroom was small, but cozy. Extra pillows, blankets, plenty of snacks sitting on the bed in front of Yun’s laptop. Surprisingly, his room was clean, the bed made and the floor spotless. Different board decks hung from the wall like broad, colorful leaves. Nothing like his cluttered room back home. The usual stuffiness Sean smelled in his own room was gone. Pristine vinyl smooth under bare feet. He set his drinks on the rug beside the bed.

“He’s with his girl again, ain’t he?”

Yun laughed.

“He’s giving me some space.”

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“This isn’t right…”

Andromeda whispered into the bowl as if his pleas would absorb into the dough. Sweetie sighed heavily, motioning for the next page on her holo-reader.

“If you love me you’ll pull up the recipe right now!”

She pretended to mull it over, but motioned to throw the screen onto the wall in front of Andromeda.

“It’s only been a few minutes. Just get a bread machine, girl!”

Andromeda set the bowl next to her. Sweetie saw it had risen, it probably just wasn’t rising fast enough.

“Oh, but It’s not special if I do it that way…”

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Some of the seams were popping. Darkness swallowed the apartment except for the sliver of hallway light slicing through the crack in the door. Guy turned the animal over in his hand. Matted fur, faded corduroy overalls.

Back when they were young and Guy was all alone, he happened upon his own little slice of home. He gave him this pet and declared he would be there always. Through their new friend. They exchanged it, nuzzled the nose when they were lonely. The nose frayed as if it was a dehydrated. Dying. Once again Guy would have to fix it.

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“Who’s that guy?”

Yun swallows a mouth full of meat.

“What guy?”

Jamie sniffs, “The guy in the yellow. How come he gets to come with you and I can’t?”

Yun lifts his head and thinks. Sean doesn’t have any skills per se. He can’t fight, doesn’t know his way around the city. At best, he kept the conversation going with folks around town. And he can cook, presentation is mediocre, but the food itself is good. And the way he would gently place the plate, face scrunched and refusing to make eye contact.

“There’s an invisible rope that ties us together and if we break it we die.”

“Don’t lie!”

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“What should we do for Valentine’s Day this year?”

Cody cocked his head to the side. What should we do for Valentine’s Day this year. He’d already made reservations for the usual place: doing literally anything but going out and celebrating. But Guy would only ask that question if he was really expecting something. Maybe. Potentially. As far as he knew there were no anniversaries, no milestones, no due dates coming up. Not his birthday. Not his birthday.

Cody watched him sidelong.

“I made reservations.”

“Cancel them. I’m not going out in that cold.”

Cody nodded. Same old, same old.

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The fields are wet and muddy. Sprouts of rice in shot up for yards, miles. Measured out in to perfect rectangles with a little strip of space to walk between. Green grass and hard packed mud in the middle of no where. Aran scented the air, senses filled with the crisp smell of nature of air. Behind him, a living room, stains on the coffee table, a couch wide enough to fit three.

A neat little kitchen with an old stove and lots of ingredients but no snacks. Three plates soaked in sudsy water. Be stood in the doorway and watched the green sprawl out forever and ever.

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Sean stared at the bun in Yun’s hand. Steam rose from the hole where a massive chunk was torn from the side. He narrowed his eyes, the roil of hunger edging up in the back of his mind. Under normal circumstances, he’d have asked what shop it came from. However, this is Yun, he’s not above teasing.

Fat and juice slide down his forearm, the meat inside dark with seasoning and sauce.

He needs it.

Ready to swallow his pride, he found an outstretched arm. He pondered the bread and meat for all of three seconds before taking a bite.

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Sunlight crept through the blinds, spotty between the broken blades and weirdly angled gaps. A blanket of humidity and heat stacked on top of his body. Sean rolls to the side pressing closer to the wall and away from the human heat box tucked inside of the roll of fabric that used to be their blanket. He twinged, they had only been at this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing for a few hours.

Sean flipped like pancake, back sticking to the wall, and slammed face first into a dry, mass of hair and rough cotton. Whiffs of that garbage shampoo he bought melts him even more.

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The wings retract smoothly into the suit as he lands a few rooftops away from Neo-Gotham’s nicest hotel. A risky move with all the surveillance, but he’s counting on Max to continue doing her job even with the night off.

If he’s lucky his face won’t show up on Bat Facts soc med accounts within the next thirty minutes.

The operation begins smoothly. Get dressed, get off the roof, and into the restaurant without delay. When he reaches the table Dana and Max are already 2 glasses deep into making eyes at each other. Dana pulls out his chair and Max straightens his bow tie.

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“Can you please just let me pay for it.” Cody hisses.

Kyle’s lips presses into a thin line. He stacks his credit card on top of Cody’s very sleek, very metal express card.

“I got it this time since you got it last time.”

Ruddy color floods his neck as he shoves Cody’s card back toward him. Like a little kid. There’s about a 500 dollars worth of plates and glasses on the table that Cody would gladly let Kyle pay for…If Guy wasn’t side-eying him. Vanessa sits primly, watching the whole ordeal through a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.

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Yang eyes them with disdain. Hands on his hip as he looked between them. Admittedly, he was technically right, they had started fighting over something trivial. Yun ate the last piece of chicken. That had turned into something serious and, well, here they are. But this level of enforcement for such a minor infraction. It’s not as if they were really fighting. It was just a little tusslin’. What’s some tussling between friends.

“Do it.”

Ugh. Yun turned to Sean who’s face was scrunched up like he’d licked a lemon. They’re already holding hands, why do they need to hug.

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Lee watched the window while Kazuya sat next to him, empty bottle of whiskey laid on its side on the floor. He didn’t shift at all, taking a drag from his cigarette as 500 count Egyptian cotton dragged over his skin.

He flipped onto his stomach, fan cooling the sweat on his skin. He shut his eyes and sank into the softness of it all. The soft pillow, the perpetually cool sheets and the thick comforter. It was almost enough to push out the harsh drawl of Kazuya’s breathing next to him. Almost good enough to sleep.

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Bricks dig uncomfortably into his palm. Cody’s back presses against his front as he takes a chunk out of his neck. Poorly muffled moans tumble out of their little nook. Cody grunts, shifting and clenching, his body tight with pleasure. Guy squeezes his eyes shut, blocks out Cody’s blues, and focuses on the rough drag of his body. He smells like concrete and rubble and the outdoors.

He’s been hard to find these days, hiding in all those places he’s not supposed to be, and Guy is lucky to have him here and now.

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Nice autumn wind kicked up Vicious’ scarf and carried up the edge of Andromeda’s pencil skirt. Break time always ran a bit long when its just the two of them. No one was ever really looking for them either way.

“What do you think trees actually look like?” Andromeda nudged the base of a holotree. ‘Roots’ firmly twirled into the ground, connected directly to the giant solar battery that powered the entire shebang they called a city.

“There’s some on display at the botanical garden.” Vicious watches the light leaves simulated swaying.

“Botanical garden?”

“Oh, you are gonna dig this.”

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Lee’s cheek ached. Even at his ripe old age Heihachi hit like a truck. He held his hands firmly in his lap and fought back the tears in his eyes. Even with his father in another car, he refused to let anything slip. His head swam and his vision blurred, he nodded this way and that until finally he closed his eyes and let the dark take him.

When he woke they were still driving. His cheek smarting even worse than before. He prodded his cheek, blessedly not smashed against the window. Soft cloth cradled his head. He kept his eyes closed so Kazuya wouldn’t push him away. 

Whoever’s idea it was to have royalty ride together is the biggest idiot T’Challa knows (May their ancestors guide them). 

Namor takes up as much space as he possibly can in the back seat. King of Wakanda and he’s stuck In a 4-door with this one of all people. They have too much faith in his kindness.

T’Challa does not secede any ground on his leg room.

“Battling with me to the very last.” 

“Still so very petty. You don’t need to sit so close to me.”

He shrugged, “There is so much more of me than you. In many different ways. One day you’ll learn.”

Yes, a 4-door with Namor. What a rhyme to go with this ridiculously long car ride.

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“Do not get your king sick.”

“My king is patiently waiting for his son to return from this ridiculous trip.”

T’challa sneezed harder this time, drowsily rubbing his nose. If he had a say in the matter he’d still be in bed, but he’d been deemed well enough to fraternize for with the enemy for a while so here he is at the edge of Lake Victoria. With Namor. Doing nothing.

He grimaced, edging away from him.

“If you die does that mean I get Wakanda?”

“We’re not married yet, you fool.”

Namor shrugged. He has to respect the drive.

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“You can keep it.”

Max tilts her head, holding out the jacket she borrowed from Dana. It was a nice fur thing. Made of that new biodegradable stuff and soft as silk. All the rage. She couldn’t possibly keep something like this. Especially when it looked so good on her.

“It looks way better on you than me.”

Dana steps deeper into Max’s apartment, only a little cluttered. Matt is somewhere wandering the streets, he still leaves all of his things around just like the kid he is.

“Maybe…but It gives me an excuse to see you more often.”

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Cody always had penchant for the color blue. He wraps the old jacket tighter around himself. Wind whips the buildings and the streets, metallic jingling surrounds him. He has to stop himself from looking around, waiting for the sneak attack, the familiar face. There’s still light outside and he realizes that its a little to early for Cody to pop out of whatever hole he’s crawled in.

The jacket doesn’t stop the cold from seeping in, but he can’t seem to throw it out. He stops in front of the glass of a shop. Blue. And threadbare. Just like him.

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Cody flinches inwardly. It’s a level of rage he’s never seen Guy demonstrate. Bug eyed and tight all over. He’s actually raising his voice, yelling about something that Cody doesn’t have any real control over if you ask him. He’s not the dictator of Metro City, just a figure head.

“It’s not like I can do anything about it.” He sneers

“You’re the mayor!”

“Yeah not God. If they want their damn stadium it’s gonna happen, whether you like it or not.”

“So you’re willing to displace thousands for an arena? What about the people?”

“They’re sturdy they’ll figure it out.”

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“Being Batman kinda sucks.” Terry says. There’s no flush in his cheeks but the bloodshot eyes give him away. Max pours him another glass of Chardonnay and pats her lap. Shuffling, he hands her the glass to hold while he rests his head in her lap.

“I missed so much!” He waves his hands. “I saved people, but I don’t really have a life, you know? It’s just me and you and Matt. Dana doesn’t even know I’m alive. Bruce was right when he said it was gonna cost a lot. That there would be sacrifices to make. But shit man I at least wanted to go to the club with out passing out!”

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Bitter cold bites through his t-shirt. Aran just wanted to check the temperature, but the frost on the greens outside turned him away. Frost on the grass means frost on the roads, the sidewalk, the patio. Way too cold for him to go on a run. And dangerous. Far too dangerous. And cold.

He padded back into the heat, the door shut and locked firmly behind him. He checked granny’s room. She waved to him over her book. Ever the early riser that woman. Down the hall, to the right, was a room with a big bed and a beautiful man who also liked to rise early.

“Happy new year, it’s a cold one.”

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“How do you do it?”

Namor throws him a withering look.

“Do what?”

“Show up late to every single event you’re invited to?”

Namor laughs, “I show up late to every single meeting that you call. Everyone else has my respect.”

T’Challa rolls his eyes, truly he expected no less from Namor. But he’s not willing to do a damn thing to earn his respect. They’re both stuck in a world with nothing to rule and barely a thing to their name. Regardless, they still manage to cling to that regal bearing. Although one of them is a jailbird. Honestly, maybe he should just stab him again.

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“Max are the kids still saying ‘Schway’?”

She looked up from her keyboard.

“Probably. I heard Matt say it yesterday but you know how he is. Why?”

“Schway. They started selling those little Valentine’s Day candies again!”

She squinted.

“Oh the discontinued ones?” She popped up, leaning over the kitchen counter to look at whatever it was Terry had seen.

Sure enough there was an advert for the little gummy candies they sold way back when they high schoolers.

“Damn. You think they still got some?”

Terry already had his jacket on.

“Only one way to find out. I’ll buy.”

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John crushed his eyes with the heels of his palms. He didn’t need them anyway. Nope not with the way things in his life were going right now. He might as well just gouge them out.

“Guy?”

“One and only.”

Guy’s little green wings flapped, naked as the born day.

John turned. “Just… will you two give us a moment.”

He closed the door to his house. That Guy was in. Floating stark naked.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Johnny!” He shot him with his heart shaped arrow.

“You’re off by a few days. Also my mother and little sister are here.”