"You didn't even check the weather before dragging me out here?" Charles grumbles as the rain starts to fall lightly.
Hank wrings his hands worriedly. After the initial euphoria of no longer being tormented by his telepathy and regaining the use of his legs wore off, Charles had withdrawn again and had stopped taking care of himself , leaving him in an even worse state than before . It had taken Hank forever to get Charles showered, shaved, dressed, sober enough to leave the mansion. Not to mention the long days he had spent persuading Charles to actually go into town. All for naught, now that the rain had started to fall a few hours earlier than forecasted.
"I'm sorry. I did bring an umbrella, though, just in case," Hank says. He fumbles in his backpack for the umbrella. It's small; it's only going to keep one person dry . With little hesitation, he hands it over to Charles. Hank desperately wants Charles to have a good day out. Maybe then he would be able to convince Charles to come out more often, which could only be good for his health. "Here."
"Thank you, Hank," Charles says. He takes it and happily opens it as the rain starts to fall a little harder.
"You're welcome," Hank says. He doesn't mind the rain, or so he tells himself. That doesn't stop him from pointing out the first shop they see and asking if they can go inside.
Charles raises an eyebrow. "L ingerie, Hank?" he asks. He's more surprised than opposed.
Hank sputters and shakes his head. "Maybe the next one," he says. The rain is starting to come down harder. He's going to be soaked to the bone if this keeps up.
It takes a few minutes, but Charles does notice. He wraps his arm around Hank and pulls him close enough that he's under the umbrella too. "Hank, come under the umbrella with me," Charles says.
Hank tries to shirk Charles' grip, but Charles can be strong when he wants to be. Plus, whenever he's on the serum, he's substantially weaker than usual and he still hasn't figured out how to combat that . "You're going to get wet, too," Hank protests weakly. " I'm getting you wet."
"It's okay," Charles says. "I don't mind too much. We can stop in the lingerie store to dry off. "
"Are you sure that we can't stop somewhere else?" Hank asks in a squeaky voice that makes Charles smile.
"But you're so cute when you blush," Charles says. As expected, his word s make a beautiful red blush appear across Hank's cheeks.
"Charles, please," Hank says as he tries to hide his wide smile.
Instead of dragging Hank into the store, however, Charles drags him down an alleyway where they can have some privacy. There's an overhang that's just wide enough to keep them out of the rain if Charles presses himself against Hank. "You're cute right now," Charles says softly as he wipes at some of the rainwater on Hank's cheeks. Since he's pretty damp as well, it doesn't actually do anything to dry him off, but Charles likes the feel of Hank's skin under his fingertips anyway.
The rain seems to have driven everyone apart from them inside, so Hank rests his hands at Charles' waist. He tries to ignore how much thinner Charles has gotten in the past few months and focus on how Charles is actually out here with him. "You're cute, too. Especially like this."
Charles leans in to kiss him . It's quick, but Hank is almost on cloud nine; there's no alcohol on Charles' breath for once. "Shall we go shopping?" Charles asks, not actually wanting to leave. Hank is the responsible one, though.
"I guess we should," Hank says, also unwilling to move. But they had to make sure they finished up their day out before either of them needed another dose of serum, so he removes his hands from Charles' waist and gives him a little push. "And we're skipping the lingerie store." Hank slides away and walks a few steps ahead, hoping that Charles will keep the umbrella to himself.
"Only if you stay under the umbrella with me, Hank," Charles says, reaching out his hand.
"I'm fine, really," Hank says as he's rapidly soaked by the rain.
"Come under here, Hank. Or else I'll go in there and buy something embarrassingly frilly for me to wear around the house," Charles threatens.
There's a stern look in his eyes that Hank hasn't seen for a long, long time, and Hank is pretty sure that he's serious about the threat he's making. "Okay, Charles, you win," Hank says, stepping underneath the umbrella with Charles, who gives them one last quick kiss before they step out into the town .
They walk through town, both of them getting soaked as they dart in and out of shops. Hank does his best to make sure that Charles stays as dry as possible. It's a losing battle- they're both terribly wet- and Hank is worried that they're going to hit Charles' breaking point soon .
As the afternoon wears on, Hank manages to find everything on their shopping list and Charles seems to be doing alright. He teases Hank and needles him all afternoon and Hank just laughs and retorts, relieved that the day is going well . They settle in for lunch a small café a few hours later.
"He's glaring at us," Charles says, nodding towards the café owner. "I don't think he likes us much."
"We are dripping all over his carpet," Hank says. He tries to hide how he's watching how much Charles is eating. Some days it's a fight to get Charles to eat at all, but he seems to have an appetite today. It's a relief; Hank doesn't want to have a fight in public.
"It's just a little water," Charles says with a casual shrug.
They eat the rest of the meal slowly, unhurried as they dry off at least a little bit . Hank does his best to absorb every detail. He wants to remember every detail of this day. Charles isn't just smiling- he's laughing. There's a light in Charles' eyes that Hank has missed so badly. Hank can ignore the hollowness of his cheeks, the way his hands shake, and the dark circles under his eyes and pretend that they're okay. And they are, at least for today.
"Is there something on my face?" Charles asks, wiping at his face. "You're staring."
Hank starts and tries to look casual. "Sorry, sorry, no, there's nothing on your face. Don't worry."
"Then what is it?" Charles asks.
"You just..." Hank tries to find the word to describe how Charles looks . Beautiful is too sappy. Gorgeous is even more so. If he calls him handsome, Charles will just laugh him off. None of the words that cross Hank's mind work. He sighs and smiles, wishing he could reach over and hold Charles' hand or touch his face or something to give them a physical connection . "You look good today." It's close enough, Hank decides.
Charles laughs and shakes his head, droplets flying everywhere. "I'm soaking wet and I'm pretty sure that I'm starting to smell like wet dog. I'm the farthest thing from looking good. " It's a shame; Charles knows how much work Hank put into making sure he was presentable today.
"Just trust me. You look so good today," Hank says.
"You know I trust you, Hank," Charles says. He nods a little and doesn't argue anymore.
The first thing that Hank does when they return to the mansion is kiss Charles hard, not even bothering to wait until they get out of the rain.
"Thank you, Hank," Charles says. He's panting hard and still clinging to Hank; he dropped the umbrella as soon as Hank grabbed him, so they're both utterly soaked now . "Thank you for today."
Hank buries his face in Charles' neck and murmurs, "You're welcome. Thank you too." He squeezes his eyes shut to keep himself from crying. The relief filling him up is so immense that he can't help it. Today had been good. If one day could be okay, maybe there would be more okay days in the future.
Charles pulls back. "You're shivering. We should go inside."
Hank lets Charles shepherd him inside. After they change into dry clothes, t hey put the groceries away, even if the packaging is covered in mud. It doesn't take too long. Once everything is put away, Charles tells Hank to wait by the fireplace for him.
Of course, Hank does so, sitting close to the fire so hopefully he'll dry off a little quicker. A few minutes later, he hears Charles come into the room, accompa nied by the smell of hot chocolate.
"Here," Charles says, sitting next to him. He hands Hank a mug of hot chocolate. "I thought I'd brew something to keep us warm."
Hank barely knows what to do. It's been so long since someone has taken care of him like this. "Thank you. It's really good." He snuggles a little closer to Charles.
The smell of whiskey wafts from Charles' mug and Hank closes his eyes so he can remind himself it's going to be okay again, one day.