When You Give a Grouch a Bear-Hug

AN: Shameless, shameless fluffitude in all its light and fuzzy glory. To anyone curious, Staring at Strangers is still happening; working on the next chapter now. Sorry for the delay! Please read and review!

I tried to start slowly.

After all, as Fels had pointed out fairly early on, he'd had kind of a shit life; it wouldn't do to just toss him straight into it. It would—at the very least—make him uncomfortable.

So, I tried to take baby steps, to reign in my impulses…because frankly, if I had my way, I would be on his lap for the better part of my life. Accordingly, once we started—though he would never admit it—dating, I did my best to ease him into it, one little affectionate display at a time.

We were at a movie when it started. Knowing his disgust for modern films, people, and things in general, I let him pick—and thus we ended up sitting with a handful of people waiting for Megamind: The Life and Times.

Whilst sitting through the interminable previews, I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye; he was sitting hunched slightly inward, eyes narrowed and focused on the screen, obviously trying to block out the existence of anyone else in the theatre. I hid my smirk.

"Having fun?"

Hid eyes didn't flicker from the screen.

"Sharp, don't make this experience harder than it has to be."

"C'mon, now, don't be such a grouch," I coaxed, more to sate my love of messing with an adorably irritated Bernard than anything else. "Think of it as bonding time with humanity."

"I can think of nothing more painful."

I laughed and didn't reply—only let my arm creep slowly around his waist. He went stiff as a board, evidently unprepared.

"Sharp, what are you…"

"Seducing you," I shot back, rolling my eyes to let him know that I wasn't serious, that his virginity was safe from the roving eyes and busy hands of that tart, Sharp. "What's it look like? Just putting an arm around you."

I tightened my grip by the tiniest bit; his cheeks burned. He was staring straight ahead as if his life depended on it.

"For what reason?"

"I want to. You're right there. I'm right here. It's dark and warm and secluded…"

His eyes closed hard for several seconds. He drew in a tight breath.

"Wh-what did I tell you about making things worse?"

"Dunno. I'm having too much fun to listen to you."

"An accurate synopsis of your existence, it seems."

I smiled and kissed the underside of his jaw, just because it was there. His breathing became briefly uneven.

"Oh, be quiet and watch this stupid movie."

He nodded curtly and seemed content (if Bernard ever experienced such a weak, fallacious emotion) to obey, back still ramrod straight and eyes still focused almost too intently on the screen. His color was rather high; I grinned.

About twenty minutes into the movie, I noticed that Bernard was slowly starting to relax; at the very least, his shoulders and spine began to lose their rigid setting, and he began to (cautiously) lean back into his seat.

I smiled and ate his popcorn (which he disdainfully dismissed as 'sub-par') and said nothing.

Twenty more minutes in, Bernard was fully back against the seat. He didn't even wince when I put my head on his shoulder.

Forty five minutes into the film, there was a definite, unguarded, almost (dare I say it?) dreamy grin on his face; I enjoyed it far too much to tell him about it.

"How d'ya like it so far?" I murmured, because to be quite frank watching him was far more absorbing than the study of Megamind's formative years. He started.

"Hm?"

"The film. How is it. Is your fangirl crush on Megamind satisfied?"

Bernard tried his best to freeze me with one of his dead, scornful looks; the effect was rather lacking in that icy contempt he normally did so well.

"Amusing. And yes—yes, the film is rather engrossing.'

And then, more to himself, he murmured:

"And warm…."

I paused, hand suspended over the popcorn bag. Warm?

"Really? I was pegging it for more of a lukewarm to cool, maybe 65 farenheit or so."

At once, Bernard blushed scarlet all the way up to his ears; keeping his eyes firmly on the movie (whose hold on him I was starting to doubt) he simply retorted:

"Don't be asinine, Sharp."

"Alright, alright. I'll let you enjoy your toasty movie, then."

And it was not until about fifteen minutes later, when he was relaxed once more and looking almost happy, that I said in his ear:

"There must be a heart somewhere in you after all, because you're nice and warm yourself."

My work done, I settled back against him and let the rather disgruntled viewers around us draw their own conclusions about the startling flash of color that streaked up Bernard's neck and onto his cheeks.

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