Author: Kat Lee
Challenge/Prompt: fffc May Daily Special: Day 15: Mountain, Star, Glasses and older_not_dead Promptathon 32: Help: Any/Any: "Even you need help sometimes."
Word Count: 1,548
Date Written: 13 May 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Marvel Comics and Disney, not the author, and are used without permission.
“What are we doing here?” Bobby asked quietly after their meal of takeout Chinese and fresh snow cream suckled from Bobby’s freezing fingertips. He carefully watched his lover’s expression from the other side of the flickering candlelight.
Hank reached his hand behind his head and scratched some of his blue fuzz. Bobby knew he’d been putting off telling him something, and he was beginning to worry exactly what that something might be. The thought of Hank leaving the team yet again nagged at the back of his mind, but he pushed it away again, determined to wait to overreact until after Hank had actually told him what was going on.
Hank brought his claws slowly down around the curve of his face. Finally, he met Bobby’s gaze and slowly took off his glasses. Laying them on the blue blanket between them, he spoke softly, “Do you remember when you asked me if I do not also have regrets?”
Bobby’s heart thudded hard in his chest. That was not at all what he had expected tonight’s conversation to be about! He looked around them swiftly, wondering how Hank could have brought them here to Make Out Mountain so late in the night if he wanted to break up with him. His panic must have reached his eyes, because Hank sighed softly. “Of course I have regrets, Robert. I -- “
“Don’t say it,” Bobby blurted out. He rolled to his knees but stumbled as he tried to get to his feet. “Don’t say it!”
“Bobby, what -- ?! What on Earth do you think I am going to say?!”
“That you regret me, this -- “ Bobby gestured frantically with a hand.
Hank caught his hand as he waved through the air. He yanked him down into his lap and wrapped his strong arms around him to where Bobby had no choice but to still his mad motions to escape and look up at him. “Never,” Hank vowed in his deep, soft, and rich voice, “will I regret loving you and being loved by you.” He sealed his vow with a passionate kiss, then sighed softly again as he slowly raised his head from Bobby’s. “Darling, I know I’ve ran from us in the past, but that’s not what this is about.”
“It’s . . . not?” Bobby asked breathlessly, but already, after Hank’s kiss had assuaged his fears, he knew that whatever his beloved regretted it could not possibly be being with him any longer. He would never have kissed him as he just had -- so passionately and beautifully -- if he regretted being with him. He waved a hand as the temperature around them dropped. “Then what . . . “
“I could not admit to this fact back at the school,” Hank explained, his voice so quiet that it was almost as if he feared being overheard even way out here almost on the other side of town, “without risking being overheard. There is hardly any secret that is spoken of there, no matter how softly or silently, that is not the big news traveling quickly among the gossipers the next day.”
“That’s true,” Bobby admitted, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I still remember the first night Warren caught us sneaking back into school. He claimed he wouldn’t tell anybody, but Jean read it from his mind. By Monday morning, everybody knew.”
Hank chuckled. “Yes, and I still vividly recall that lecture the Professor gave us.”
“We should’ve seen then that he had the hots for Mags.” Bobby’s laughter almost turned to a giggle.
“I only wish things had ended better for them -- “
“Things will end better for us,” Bobby vowed, reaching up and caressing Hank’s furry cheek. “We’ll never run from our feelings again, or from each other. We will have the happiness they denied themselves.”
“Yes,” Hank agreed readily. He turned his head and placed a kiss in Bobby’s palm where it still cupped his face.
“So what’s worrying you so much, Big Blue?”
“It’s not something that’s . . . worrying me, persay, Robert, but it is nonetheless something I very much regret.”
“And what is that?”
Heaving another sigh, Hank waved a hand at himself. “Every permanent change that I have made to myself. My younger self may be dabbling in dark magics, but I -- “ His voice dropped to a hushed, almost strangled whisper. “I made a monster out of myself.”
“Hey, I like you blue and furry!”
“Perhaps,” Hank replied, “but I can never walk down the street with you in broad daylight, Robert. I can never allow the world to see me as I truly am when we are out together. They always have to see an acceptable vision, an image of the man I could have been, the man I should have been had I not been experimenting upon myself like a fool -- “
“Hey,” Bobby interjected, again lovingly caressing his furry cheek, “it doesn’t matter what they think they see. It doesn't matter if they see you or not. I know the man I love, and the man I love is sexier than their little minds can ever conceive.”
“Bobby -- “ Hank said and chuckling, a small smile playing over his lips.
“Hey, I mean it! You make blue look damn sexy, and fur’s never been more in than the way you and Kurt wear it.”
“I don’t have a thing for the Elf,” Bobby clarified with a roll of his brown eyes. “All I’m saying, Hank, is look at how many women flock to him. You’re so worried about how you look. He’s blue, furry, and looks like a Demon, but he can’t keep the babes off of him! And you’re way sexier! Comparing you to him is like . . . like . . . “ He searched his mind for an analogy. “Comparing Jonah Hill to Johnny Depp.”
“I recognize Mister Depp -- “
“You and every person in this whole city!”
“But the other -- “
“Let’s just say there is no comparison. You’re a twenty. He’s a . . . a three, maybe a five.” Bobby lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “There’s no comparison. You’ve got him beat, paws, hands, and whiskers down.”
The blue fur covering Hank’s handsome face darkened in a subtle way Bobby knew meant he was blushing. “It goes deeper than that, though,” he said with a soft sigh.
“What?” Bobby asked, searching his eyes. “What is it, Hank? You know you can tell me anything -- “
“We’re growing old, Robert,” Hank whispered, reaching for his discarded spectacles. “And with age comes the weariness of the body, if not the mind.”
“Your mind will never grow that weary,” Bobby whispered, placing a hand over Hank’s as he went to pick up his glasses. He searched his eyes. “Are you telling me you’re having trouble seeing?”
Hank inclined his head in a gentle, single nod. “I am beginning to -- “ he confessed.
“Doesn’t matter,” Bobby said with a quick, denying shake of his head.
“It matters to me,” Hank argued lightly. “I like being able to see without these,” he said, lifting the spectacles but then leaving them on the blanket. His hand lifted and took Bobby’s instead; their fingers entwined together. He brought his hand to his mouth and kissed it gently before leaning back and looking up at the night sky far above them. “I used to enjoy sitting on the rooftop of my childhood home and watching what I could see of the stars.”
“I remember several nights where you showed me the constellations here,” Bobby whispered softly.
“Yes, and all without my glasses.”
Bobby shrugged. “Even you need help sometimes, Blue. I can be your eyes, if it ever gets that bad.”
“I fear it may, and it’s all because of the experiments I continue to be inane enough to perform upon myself.”
“Shit,” slipped out of Bobby’s mouth before he could stop it. “Hank, what have you been doing?”
“I’ve been trying to reverse these latest mutations, Bobby. I do not want to become nothing more than a big cat.”
“You will always be far more than whatever your mutant form suggests,” Bobby argued, and it was clear he’d picked up some words from Hank along the course of their life together. “You’ll never just be a beast, or a cat. You will always be a hero. You’ll always be a genius who makes Albert Einstein look stupid.”
“Hardly -- “
“You’ll always be my hero and the man I love,” Bobby continued before Hank could argue, “and if one day, you need someone to be your eyes, I am your eyes. I am whatever you need me to be.” He kissed him. “Always.” He kissed him again, longer this time and deeper, and when they parted, he leaned back against Hank’s furry, broad, and muscular body and began to point at the sky. “There,” he said, “is Sirius.” Pointing at another part of the dark, night sky, he added, “And the Big Dipper.” His finger changed direction again. “Followed by the Little Dipper.”
“Followed . . . ,” Hank purred, bringing Bobby’s hand down with his own and kissing it again. He licked each finger in turn. “ . . . by me . . . loving you.”
“Always,” Bobby confirmed and, turning in his arms, proceeded to kiss him long, deep, and passionately until the only stars that mattered to either of them were the ones they saw shining beautifully in each other’s loving eyes.