He poked his finger into soft malleable flesh, feeling the marshmallow that was his stomach billow around the plump finger.
He turned sideways to look at himself more fully in the mirror, his belly protruding like a pregnant womans over his Valentines day boxers. He snorted at that. It was November and he was wearing holiday appropriate boxers a couple of months too late. Or was it now so late that it was early?
He remembered the days when he was hard, build of sinew and muscle and bone, when the very sight of him filled him with Narcissus level pride, when he knew he was built like Adrian still was, like Rorschach undoubtedly still was. Hadn't Rorschach called him soft? He was right, in more ways than one.
He had always been the "soft" one, the one that didn't want to really hurt the criminals, even when the Comedian, even when Rorschach had said it was necessary. He had faith in the criminal justice system, he was just acting as an extra arm, to lend a little help and guidance when they couldn't reach far enough into the criminal underbelly.
Now, though, now he was just soft.
"Dan? Are you okay?" He heard Laurie call from downstairs. Oh God. Laurie. Still as beautiful was she was when he had first met her, when she was still jail bait, when she was sex on high heels. She was still sex on high heels, and even though he hadn't seen her in costume, hadn't seen her in those thigh high latex (leather? Did it matter) boots, he was sure she still fit. Like a glove. God. He shouldn't think of her like that. She was a friend. She was only here until she and John worked out whatever it was they needed to, and then she'd be back to the man that was nothing if not hard, nothing if not impossibly perfect.
He was jealous of John in more ways than he was comfortable to admit. He was still strong and youthful. Dear God, the man was older than him, and besides being blue and omnipotent, there wasn't really anything he could show for it.
Dan pulled on a pair of loose khakis, hoping to hide his bulge, his weakness, his slacking. Maybe he should start working out again? He had liked how he had looked, sculpted and...and well, beautiful. Surely he could get that back again? A couple of extra crunches here and there?
"Dan? Do you need anything?"
God yes. He needed her.
"Um...no, Laurie, I'm fine. Just heat up the lo mein thats in the fridge, I'll be right down," the shirt came on next, a conservative button up that tightened perceptibly around his middle. His finger poked himself through the fabric. Soft.