A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! So this project started out as an attempt to pay back Lady Ariadna, along with all my other loyal reviewers, with another fun one-shot in the AiRverse. Among her many possible suggestions, she listed this gem of a fic starter: "That time when Hope was given The Talk. It would be funnier when different people tried to give it to him: Snow, Sazh, etc." What started out as a one-shot became a series of four one-shots, since various people didn't give Hope the Talk all at once (nor was it a straightforward sit-down, but opportunity-based). This little 4-shot story from Hope's POV moves from Maqui to Sazh to Lucil to Snow as they enlighten him on Talk-related aspects in the BiY timeline ^_^
Again, shout-out to Lady Ariadna, and I hope you all enjoy!
xxxxx
Discovery
Part 1: Cleansing
[Age: 15] During Hope's brief recovery stay in the barracks, after his release from quarantine and PSICOM's field extraction of Lightning and Snow's crystals.
"I'm not so sure about this…" Hope tried to explain to Maqui for the hundredth time. He shuffled along behind his trainer down the hall, gripping the towel around his waist like a life preserver.
Maqui made a sound somewhere between a laugh and an exasperated huff, but he did not stop. "Look, if you're gonna live here – and more importantly, share a room with me – you can't stay sweaty and gross. We can't change the design of these dark ages barracks just because you're shy."
"I'm not shy," Hope grumbled, his eyes solidly fixed on the flopping backs of Maqui's shower shoes on the floor in front of him. "Just self-conscious."
"Call it what you want. Won't last for long."
They rounded a corner into the entrance of the bathroom – hooks and benches cluttered with towels and undergarments lined the narrow space. Urinals and sinks identified the restroom area to the right. Nothing out of the ordinary.
It was the tiled wall to Hope's left, which wrapped around yet another corner and sent steam drifting into the whole space, that had him cringing back. Moderately quiet voices preceded a sudden burst of laughter.
They're going to laugh at me. Or just… stare.
Hope's wasn't sure which was worse. His throat tightened in revulsion.
Maqui pulled him along by the arm to the benches, gesturing at a few empty hooks. "Just hang the towel there."
Immobilized before the bench, Hope tried taking a few deep breaths and rationalizing the situation.
It's just proper hygiene.
Maybe I can will myself invisible.
Maq's kind of a shrimp, and he doesn't seem to have any trouble.
That last thought snapped his eyes back to reality. His focus landed on his nearly translucent skin, prominent ribs, and the bruises on his inner arms from multiple IVs during his weeks in quarantine.
He was tired of feeling so exposed.
"Hey… Hope?" Maqui barely touched his arm and he jumped, slowly turning but not quite looking up from the bruises fast enough to avoid the inevitable.
The towel was gone. Hope could only blame the shock for his sudden deer-in-the-headlights paralysis, because his friend's anatomy was demonstrably no different from his own.
Maqui lifted his chin with an easy laugh. "I'm up here, mister innocent. Eyes forward."
"You startled me," Hope grumbled, glaring back at Maqui's smirk. "And don't call me that."
"Then stop blushing."
"I can't help it!" Hope said, swatting Maqui's hand away as he gesticulated in frustration. "I get even more embarrassed just by thinking about being embarrassed!"
And of course, in the midst of flailing, his own towel hit the floor with a soft sound of doom. He scrambled to cover himself.
Maqui shook his head in disbelief, sighing out one more laugh as he yanked the goggles from his head. "Hope, no one gives a damn what you look like, okay? Look at me." He drew a circle around his face and neck. "If someone's in your line of sight, focus at or above the shoulders. Now grab the soap and stop overthinking it."
Beyond ready to have it over with, Hope nodded and did as he was told. He recovered his towel and hung it on a hook, careful not to look down at himself again and lose all nerve. His hands remained clamped around the bottle of all-in-one liquid soap while his eyes held a point on the back of Maqui's blond head as he followed him around the corner.
The situation within was not quite what Hope had imagined. Steam provided a small but appreciable amount of cover, and the space consisted of two centrally fixed poles with a circular array of six showerheads each. Only three other soldiers were in the room, all of them showering around the far post and carrying on a meaningless conversation.
One of them briefly looked over when Maqui turned on his showerhead at the closer post, just long enough to wave. The soldier did a double-take when he caught sight of Hope, but only a second or two of confused – and, Hope was fairly sure, disturbed – staring passed before he turned away.
That's right. Pay no attention to the undead over here.
A sudden sputtering stream of cold water hit Hope, and he gasped and hopped back. Maqui had turned on the adjacent showerhead and stood chuckling to himself.
"It'll warm up. Give it a minute."
"You're the devil," Hope muttered, rubbing his chill-prickled arms. No one ever expected instant warm water with settlement plumbing, but he would've liked a spare moment to brace himself.
Eventually, the water heated up and Hope stepped under the spray to wash away his troubles. He closed his eyes, lathered a palmful of soap in his hair and forgot for a minute that he was naked in front of complete strangers. A very slight smile broke through.
"Not half bad, huh?" Maqui quipped, nudging him with his elbow.
Hope swiped the water out of his eyes and side-eyed the interrupting party, snatching the soap bottle back from Maqui. He dumped another dollop into his palm and focused on lathering up his scrawny arms.
"You just had to ruin it."
"All part of my grand moral support scheme," Maqui crowed, happily combing back his mass of gold hair with his fingers until there were no suds to be found. He shook it out and let it flop over his eyes, which made his grin look even more ridiculous.
"I've discovered how to trigger your coping mechanism," he said. "You lose all inhibition when you get riled up. Like a berserker."
"That's not true!" Hope exclaimed, instantly slapping a hand over his mouth when their showering companions started laughing amongst themselves. The heat of embarrassment consumed his face again.
He dropped his voice to a whisper, arms stiff at his sides. "It's not."
"Chill yourself out, then. 'Cause right now you look like a cherry sucker." Maqui raked the hair out of his face and pried the soap bottle from Hope's nigh unyielding fingers, chuckling at the resistance.
"Look, just give me another thirty seconds and we're gone."
Hope remained a statue in the downpour. "Fine."
Not like I'm about to storm out of here alone.
The seconds ticked by. Lacking anything else to distract himself, Hope trained his ears on the inane conversation between the three other men. It had turned to the topic of a girl – someone's recent target of conquest, apparently. Hope caught the mention of fiery hair and a few choice descriptive phrases he would rather not have learned.
He heard his own name in the tale, complete with a few pertinent details, and knew beyond all doubt that Lucil was the girl in question. He trained his attention on the roar of water instead and tried to wash his ears out.
The showerhead shut off, and Maqui snatched his arm that same instant. "Let's go," he muttered, radiating tension.
Hope had a feeling he'd also taken issue with the other men's chatter.
They all but teleported back to the rows of benches. Maqui yanked his towel from its hook and began to dry off in silence.
Hope cautiously followed suit. "You were listening too, huh?"
"Right-o," Maqui announced with sarcastic brightness. He smacked the soap bottle onto the cubby shelf with undue force. "And I'd kinda like to get my mind off the subject."
"Let's talk about something else, then," Hope tried. He scrubbed the towel over his hair and returned it to his waist, plopping down on the bench. "If it's all the same, I'd rather not spend the rest of the evening dwelling on other people being insensitive jerks. I ask you about a thousand questions a day, so why not quiz me for once?"
Maqui drummed his fingers on the shelf for a long few seconds. His tense expression went blank and he secured his towel, slumping on the bench next to Hope.
"Don't take this as an insult, but I'd rather ask you and not sound stupid later," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Are you into girls?"
"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?" Hope said, fighting not to let his mind wander too far down that track.
Maqui shrugged and toyed with the goggles in his hands. "Some guys are into guys, some girls, some both or neither…"
"More variety than I thought." Hope quirked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. He continued to monitor Maqui's expression when he tacked on, "So what's your preference? Robot love or bust?"
Maqui snorted and shoved him slightly. "Good one," he said, sobering up to stare at the opposite bench in thought. "Have to say girls. Y'know, mostly." He snapped out of the brief trance and went back to messing with the goggles' strap.
"Mostly?" Hope laughed, prodding his shoulder. "So you've saved a little room for your future cyborg companion after all?"
The returning laugh was half-hearted. "Not exactly, Hope."
"Oh." The use of his actual name rang like a bell in his head and meant more than any explanation. "I-I'm sorry, it never really occurred to me…" he stammered, concentrating intently on the biggest bruise in the crook of his left arm.
"You're a real space cadet, sometimes," Maqui said, shaking his head. "But that's okay – can't expect you to know my history. You know I only tease you because you're my goofy apprentice, right?"
Hope looked him straight in the eyes, unflinching. "I'm not that presumptuous. If you liked some guy out there, it would never be someone like me."
"Seriously?" Maqui's brow scrunched, as if he'd been insulted. "All joking aside, do you really hate yourself that much? I mean, this whole recovery stint is just a process that lots of people go through. You know it doesn't matter what you look like to people who care about you."
"It's not just that," Hope muttered, wringing his thin hands. "I'm not a good person, Maq. I'm a burden to everyone, and I've caused nothing but trouble for the people close to me."
Maqui grumbled to himself, turned a bit, and clamped his hands on Hope's shoulders. He took a long-suffering breath and narrowed his eyes.
"Cut the bullshit. You're pushing Serah away to protect her, I get it, but you're not actually the plague on humanity that PSICOM thinks you are," he pressed. "They are the problem. Not you. We clear on that?"
Hope nodded dumbly, his eyes going wider when he stopped to process his previous claims of guilt against himself through Maqui's lens. He still wished he'd had the courage to take his mother's place or save his father and his friends, but the fact remained.
The fal'Cie had started it all. Even PSICOM's reaction was just that – a response to a perceived threat that perpetuated a chain of terror.
"We're clear," Hope said at length, surprised at the lightness in his chest over the passing seconds after admission.
Maqui cracked a smile and rubbed his apprentice's hair into a tangled, swirling mess. "Could ya do me one more favor?" he asked to Hope's glare, completely unfazed. "Look in the mirror and tell yourself, 'I'm a beautiful flower in a dark cave.' Okay?"
"Haha. Sure I am," Hope drawled.
"It's a metaphor, genius," Maqui huffed, rolling his eyes. "One of the older caretakers at the orphanage used to tell that to me. It means you're stuck in sub-ideal circumstances. You need help to get out of it, but one day, you'll make it to a better place and, y'know… bloom with potential or some shit."
He mumbled the last bit, snorting to himself. He had the audacity to blush.
Hope absolutely cracked up, earning a slap to the arm and a shove.
One of the toilets flushed in the adjacent restroom. Maqui stood from the bench in a rush and pulled his sniggering apprentice with him. He hauled Hope toward the exit, turning even more tomato-like when the soldier from the restroom commented on his poetic gift in passing.
"Don't ever make me explain that again," Maqui grumbled.
"I can't make any promises," Hope laughed. "I'm just so flattered."
"Shut up."
Hope was still fighting to control his chuckles as they reached Maqui's room. He prodded his silent, red-faced friend. "Can I ask one more thing?"
Maqui dragged a hand over his face, muffling a growl. "What is it?"
"Am I your favorite flower?"
"No," Maqui deadpanned, his blue eyes flat. "You'd be second. If only because you're pure evil."
Hope's eyebrows shot up as his curiosity spiked. "Oh? Then who's—?"
"Nope," Maqui cut across him, raising his hand like a wall. "I get to keep some secrets."
"I bet I can guess—"
"Not a chance."
"Girl or guy?"
"Cyborg, Hope," Maqui huffed. "Just tell yourself I'm in love with the cyborg I have yet to create."
"So," Hope dragged out, grinning sideways at his friend as he opened the door, "You're lying, and it's someone I know. Stand by to be found out."
Maqui looked back with a challenging smirk. "We'll see about that."
Endnote: More of beta-roomie's usual humor (I know it's been a while)!
When Maqui explains that Hope will get over his self-consciousness quickly: Lol if boot camp is any indication, it will last exactly two days
When Hope remarks that Maqui is kind of a shrimp: Okay Pot. Have you met Kettle? Because ya'll should chat
At Hope's comment on feeling exposed: Ok now you made it sad again WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THIS
When Hope gets embarrassed and freezes over the whole naked thing: This is so awkwardly homoerotic I am dying from laughter hahaha XD like, it's not, but it's fanfic, so it feels like it should be. My fanfic instincts keep thinking that sex is just going to show up from out of nowhere like that fucking Microsoft Word paperclip, all unnecessary and weird. :P
When Maqui makes a teasing remark in the shower: Ok Maqui, don't you know the rules? NO AWKWARD CHIT CHAT ;P
After Hope naively asks why Maqui would even ask if he was interested in girls: Oh you sweet summer child. [links him to the doubtless hundreds of Hope slash fics that definitely exist. Like, I'm not even in your fandom and I know this for a fact. IT'S FANFIC LAW.]
When Maqui remarks that he is into girls 'mostly': Jfc this is a lead-in to a porno. This is Robin Sparkles-level of porno prompting. I'M JUST SAYING.
As Maqui is offended at Hope's self-deprecation and explains that his appearance doesn't really matter (because beta-roomie always pushing things): "Although now that we're talking about it, you're a sweet piece of ass and I would love to bang you HAHA LOL JUST SOME FRIENDLY TEASING BETWEEN BROS. WHILE WE'RE NAKED."
After the passing soldier teases Maqui's poetic example devolves into embarrassment: You should work for Hallmark, Maqui.
When Hope jokingly asks if he is the favorite flower: You totally want Maqui to have a crush on you, don't you? Like, you didn't think about it before, but that's because you didn't know you had options. Now you do. GET IT HOPE. GET IT. Turn this story into the porno its intro deserves.