author's note: due to unforeseen, real life circumstances, I'm going to be away from this fic for a week? Or so. 5 Oct is when the next chapter will go up, basically! I'm posting this just a bit early to compensate for that fact!
The song this time? Run, by dontask~!
Saturday, Feb. 20
Butch: saturday, wake up at 4:30am, i'll be over by 5. we're takin that ride i promised u. wear the jacket and some thick pants, gonna be cold as hell.
Bubbles could kill Butch.
She woke up at an ungodly hour and was currently trying to get a cup of black coffee into and through her system. Why he decided to wake up before the sun even graced the horizon— in the winter no less —she had no idea, and she honestly wasn't even sure she wanted to know at this point.
Bubbles was a morning person— she was.
Four thirty in the morning was testing it, though.
Usually, she woke up just after or just barely before the sun came over the horizon, regardless of the time of year. She'd need a cup of coffee, maybe two, and her spirits would be pretty high afterwards. She usually wasn't moody upon first waking (like Buttercup tended to be), she usually only felt super sluggish. Blossom woke early with her, but Blossom did so out of duty and habit whereas Bubbles was just naturally a morning person.
This early hour made her a little more volatile than usual, though.
Coffee didn't seem too amused about lights being on in the apartment so early, either.
Regardless of the absurd time, Bubbles still sent off her routine, quick 'Good morning! ' text to Blossom. Buttercup would be getting one later, closer to when classes actually started, so after the text was sent she tossed her phone on the bed and turned her attention back to getting ready for the day. She was in the middle of changing into her outfit when she heard the distant road of an approaching motorcycle, so she immediately scurried to hurry her motions. She stole a glance in the mirror, smiling at the plain, white turtleneck sweater and pair of aqua blue, insulated, faux leather pants.
It was the pair that she had used for her Halloween costume back in October, when she'd gone as Samus Aran .
She never got the body suit because she did have the video game character's Prime armor worn over it for most of that party (and she didn't think she'd need the bodycon suit anyway), settling on these pants and a long sleeve turtleneck in aqua spandex in lieu of the actual suit. The pants had been way too cute to toss out, and she'd been complimented a lot that night, so she didn't donate them like she thought she might when she first bought them.
But as she zipped and buttoned them up, she counted herself lucky that she hadn't tossed them out.
They matched her new jacket very well.
It wasn't until she pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail that she managed to get an easy, unforced smile. He was lucky she managed a smile before he showed up, because not long after that, she heard him tap against her front door.
"Open up, Sweetcheeks, it's too chilly out here."
Bubbles shook her head and met him at the front door. She'd barely managed to step out of the way before he burst through the door like a bull, the wind snapping at his leather-covered back. She shut the door, a small mewl catching her attention as she turned around. Candy's little head pop out from the neck of his black sweater, looking more like an oversized fuzzball than a cat. A wide, warm smile crossed her lips and she looked up at the curly haired Ruff- who had left his hair completely unstyled for once.
She decided she liked his curls.
"Leather pants?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.
"They match my jacket, are insulated and —" she turned to look at her own rear, grinning like the devil only twice as pretty, "—they make my butt look good."
He laughed and carefully pulled the cat out from within his sweater. "I can't say I disagree. Have you fed Coffee yet?"
"No, I haven't soaked his cat food yet," she admitted, glancing up at the clock. Two minutes until five—she should probably do that now. "I was going to do it right before we left so it was still close enough to his usual breakfast time."
"That's totally fine. Could you make enough for Cancan, too?"
"Of course." She smiled, turning to the kitchen. "How long will we be gone?"
He hummed, following her just after setting the cat down. Candy was almost immediately tackled by Coffee, and he barely managed to miss stepping on the two playing peanuts. "Takes about thirty minutes to get there, so we'll be there for about an hour and a half. We'll come back sometimes after that? Two and a half hours, give or take."
"So early on a Saturday ," she huffed. She pulled out their kibble and their formula, a soft hum of a nameless tune filling any dead air, no matter how short.
He grinned at her soft, wordless vocals. "You'll get why when we get there."
She raised an eyebrow at him in challenge, but didn't immediately say anything. She busied herself mixing the powdered kitten formula to make the milk that would then soak the kibble. "What should I know before we head out?"
"In terms of what to bring? Just yourself, your phone for the just-in-case scenario, and a bottle of water or something to drink."
"I've got a thermos I'm putting the rest of this pot of coffee into, then. Do you want me to bring the extra cup for it?"
He nodded eagerly. "That sounds rad, actually. You ever ride passenger on a dirt bike?"
"No."
"Lean with me and the bike. You gotta trust me and the bike, otherwise you could make us miss sharper turns or land us in a ditch."
"I trust you," she immediately reaffirmed, her tone final and leaving no room for doubt. She could feel his gaze narrowing on her, sharp like the edge of a blade and threatening to swallow her whole. Heat bloomed in her cheeks and she cleared her throat, her curls bouncing as she shook her head a little to clear her mind. "Anything else?"
He hummed again. "Well... just don't put your legs or shoes on the pipes—they get hot enough to burn legs and melt shoes. And, lastly… you need to hang onto me." She moved to set the two bowls of soaked kitten food on the floor, knowing that he didn't feel even remotely ashamed when his eyes traveled to the curve of her ass.
He just wouldn't say anything.
The asshole.
"What I wanted to show you is how I ride. And I need you to be hanging onto me for it to work right and for it to be safe."
Her brows furrowed in mild concern, but she let it go for now. She trusted him to keep his word. If that's all she needed to do for it to be safe, then that's all she needed to do. Bubbles glanced back at the clock. "Should I go get shoes on, then?"
"I'd fully recommend it, yes," he laughed.
She smiled at him before hopping back into her room to slip her mid-calf combat boots on. Though totally black, she'd replaced the shoestrings with baby blues ones, because of course she did. After she grabbed the aqua faux-leather jacket from her closet, she slid it on and walked back out to the living room. Butch had taken to tossing his keys in the air and catching them, and when he saw her he smiled oddly. She couldn't pinpoint why the smile seemed a little… different than usual, but it did.
"Got that thermos in your purse?"
"Not yet, hold on," she rushed out, scurrying to her kitchen. It didn't take her too long to fill the silver thermos with the rest of the pot of coffee she'd made. Once it was sealed and in her purse—along with the extra cup for it—she came back and grabbed her keys to lock up when they left. "Alright, let's head out."
He smiled at her and led the way out the door. She locked it behind them, and followed him down the stairs and to the parking lot. New snow hadn't fallen in a couple of days, so most of it had melted off by then, but large patches of white still lingered and clung to everything humans hadn't touched within eyesight. His motorcycle, painted a dark metallic olive, sat a ways off from any other vehicle, and she felt a thrill of excitement race down her spine.
It sat alone in a snow spotted parking lot, just beneath a street light that shined on it almost like a spotlight. A strange siren's call of adrenaline and an almost dark excitement clouded her mind, completely making her forget about the absurdly early hour. With the anticipation of finally getting to ride , the blonde had all but forgotten her ire with the Ruff.
He hopped onto the bike and smirked while holding his hand out to help her on, her heart twisting at the sight.
Bubbles made sure that her purse was around her securely before throwing one leg over the back of his seat.
"You might wanna put your purse in one of the saddlebags there on the side. I can't guarantee it'll be secure if you don't," he motioned to the bags on either side of the bike.
She listened and pulled her purse off, opening the leather belt strap that secured one of the bags onto the bike and put her purse securely inside of it- right next to his extra water bottle and what looked like his wallet. Once it was securely shut again, her arms went around his torso.
Then, to her mild confusion, he started the bike.
"No helmets?" she asked, curiously.
"Trust me?" he replied hopefully.
She nodded against his back, feeling and hearing the thumping of his heartbeat through his thick layers of sweater and leather biker jacket. "I do."
He revved the engine of the cruiser, and her arms tightened just a little bit around him. He had to waddle and guide the bike backwards much in the same way someone would a regular bicycle, making her giggle a little. Then, he lifted his feet from the ground and took off, heading towards the empty town streets at a speed that was only a little over the speed limit.
She felt his powers before she saw proof of them, the warm and deep thrum of green such a familiar sight and sound that it only added to the thrill dancing in her blood. The emerald glow crept over his person, taking a slightly thicker form in front of his face before it washed over her, his presence and energy surrounding her like a cocoon of safety— radiating a gentle warmth despite the wintry air still cutting through and blowing their hair back.
Through that energy, she could feel what he felt; it was intimate in a way she wasn't expecting, in a way she wasn't entirely sure of. The sudden way she could feel just how warm the sensation of his happiness was, the odd thrum of his excitement and the tickle of mischief making her feel thoroughly connected to him in that moment. The blanket of green energy was strangely comforting, making her feel like she had a place where she could belong —where she could be sheltered from the world—and it felt like the very definition of safety …
And then it dawned on her—that's exactly what it was.
He didn't use helmets, but instead used his own powers— his shield.
A glance behind them told her that they were leaving a thick trail of forest green, remnants of the power he used illuminating their surroundings like a neon sign as it streaked behind them. The beachy waves of her ponytail were being tossed this way and that like a ribbon behind them, and vaguely she thought about how hellish getting the tangles out would be. The thought was gone before it could really take root.
The rush of the wind racing by them, the open air cold and unforgiving and yet so incredibly freeing . The speed, the rush, the adrenaline …
It was different than flying.
It was human.
His shield aside, this was an entirely human experience that filled her heart and her blood with the same joy and excitement that flying did. The blurry scenery, the starry sky, threatening on a lighter hue just at the horizon line, the smell of Butch deep in her senses…
Her cheeks flushed red and a laugh overflowing with joy and elation spilled from her, bringing an impossibly wide smile to Butch's face.
Joy.
Raw, unabashed joy.
They rode in the darkness, through several long stretches of backroads upon backroads until she was dead certain that they were nowhere near Townsville anymore. In one of the surrounding towns, perhaps, but not the city she'd grown up in. Maybe, just maybe, they were on the furthest outreaches of the city, but she doubted it. The pines still held their greenery out here, and the terrain only got rougher the further they went. She remained unbothered by it and her smile hurt her cheeks more than the late February wind did.
She kept her face around his shoulders, beyond content with simply holding him the whole way up to wherever it was that he was taking her. Not that she'd be admitting that much. The little thought of her developing crush on the Ruff expanded like a balloon, causing her fingers to clutch at the front of his leather jacket.
She was more than happy to simply hold him like this.
His heartbeat was heavy, thundering like a drum in her ear, though she couldn't be sure why—maybe it was the adrenaline of the ride, or maybe it was something else entirely. Or maybe her mind was trying to read too far into it, making the sound louder than it actually was.
The bike suddenly leaned and she let him take her on this sharp turn, their knees coming about three inches off the pavement before they shot upright again, headed up a dirt road that didn't even have real gravel over it. They were going a lot slower up this path so he could navigate the potholes and rough spots easier. The road was uphill—most of their journey had been—and she could tell from the way he was slowing down that their ride was coming to a finale.
And she still had no real clue as to where they were.
Finally, a quaint little two story house came into view—no lights on, no sounds from inside, nothing. It sat cold and unused, though she could tell recent work had been done and that it had recently been cleaned up.
"Butch?" she asked, just before the engine cut. "Where are we?"
"My new place."
His answer shocked her, but his excited smile probably shocked her more. He'd never looked so carefree and just genuinely excited before. Or, at least, never in front of her.
"I finally had enough cash set back to buy it back in December. The winter kinda kept me from it for a while, but I needed to fix up a few things before moving in anyway." He then held up a little silver house key from his keyring.
"Holy shit, Butch. Is it just the house?"
"And the land," he jerked his thumb towards the sprawling fields dotted with evergreens blanketed in melting snow, his eyes dancing with the fading starlight. "I found this place a while back. It had been abandoned for about two or three years, so I talked to the banks to see who owned it now. Got the house and fifteen acres."
"Holy shit," she breathed out, blinking up at him in awe. She thought Boomer had to be the best off of their group (the Puff's respective inheritances notwithstanding, of course), but this made her think otherwise. She didn't even want to start thinking about how much it must've cost him, or how much he's put into renovating whatever had fallen apart in its time left unused. "This is what you wanted to show me?"
"Kind of," he said as he helped her off the bike. Instead of letting go of her hand, he threaded their fingers together and tugged her towards the front porch eagerly. "We should hurry to actually see it."
"See what?"
He quickly unlocked the door with the key, gently tugging her inside. "The sunrise. I have a killer view from the master bedroom."
The house was still very, very empty. The flooring was mostly hardwood- but she could see some carpet in a few rolls along the back wall. His kitchen was functionable at best- nothing special, but with a lot of room to become an amazing kitchen. He didn't let her look for too long, though, and tugged her up the stairs and through a set of double doors that led to the master bedroom.
There, she saw evidence of Butch all over the place. His dirty clothes in a pile next to an old full sized bed that had military green sheets on it. His rock bands had posters already on the wall, and he already had a cat tower installed for Candy.
She briefly wondered if he's already brought her here or not.
He, again, didn't let her look for long before he was pulling her out of a sliding glass door. He now had a balcony like she did, just outside of his bedroom. His was larger, had more room, and looked a lot sturdier (and nicer) than her own, being made mostly of what looked like cement.
"I'm going to go grab your purse," he quickly said.
Only then did he let go of her hand, taking to the skies to get it faster.
While he was gone, she took in the legitimately breathtaking view he had from here. Somewhere close to the top of the mountain, overlooking a wide field of snow dotted pines. The skies were completely clear and without a cloud in sight, the stars impossibly bright in such a dark, dark location. She'd never been able to see so much of the skies and so many of the stars in Townsville, and it completely stole her breath. Just along the furthest edges of sight was the ocean, reflecting the stars on its churning surface.
Just to the left sat Townsville.
The lights from buildings and street lamps that dotted the city- no matter how many there actually were- seemed so small and miniscule from where she was.
Butch floated back, her blue purse in hand. "Whatcha think, Sweetcheeks?"
"It's beautiful," she whispered. "Butch, I might force you to take me in as a roommate just for this view."
He laughed, his cheeks pink. Instead of standing on the balcony with her, he sat on the thick stone railing. Then, he patted the spot next to him- inviting her. She didn't need another invitation and jumped up to sit next to him. There, she pulled her thermos out, filled the two cups of black coffee, and passed one to Butch. He smiled warmly, his forest eyes sparkling under the stars. "I might let you."
"Oh, don't tease me," she put a hand over her heart. "You gotta be serious if you say anything else."
"I'd be the coolest with you, Boomer or Buttercup moving in," he laughed. "The Bosses might make me clean too much. I still need an electrician to come out and check the wiring and the grid before I can start turning on the basic functions here, so we'll put a pin in it for now. Talk about it later."
She hummed happily. "That's enough for me."
Her blue eyes went out to the horizon line. On one half, the trees met the sky, yet on the other, the ocean did. Butch had one helluva view up here.
The violet along the bottom of the horizon gave birth to one of her favorite times of day; when the sun is still just beyond the horizon and it's light still reaches the earth enough, it creates a blue hue to bathe the world in for a few long moments. It never lasted long, only barely a half hour, but it was her favorite. She'd never experienced the morning version from the start like this, only ever having woken up in the middle of it and getting a mere five or ten minutes to enjoy it.
Being here, with Butch, experiencing it from the beginning…
Her heart felt like it could melt.
"I like quiet sunrises," he admitted softly, his whisper cracking with just how quiet he was.
Bubbles nodded her agreement. "I do too. I'm the earliest riser of the Puffs." Her voice was just as quiet as his, as though if they spoke too loud, it would shatter the atmosphere of the morning.
"Brick gets up earliest of us, but not because he wants to," Butch said. "He's a moody prick in the mornings. I try to, but I like my sleep too much, and I've been known to stay up too late."
Her laugh was quiet, airy. "I wish I could sleep like that. It feels like the slightest noise tends to wake me up. I have to exhaust myself to get halfway decent sleep anymore."
His brows furrowed and he hummed thoughtfully, taking a moment to have a drink from his cup. "And I wish I didn't have a tendency to sleep through moments like these."
Her smile warmed him more than any heater or any hot coffee could. "The grass is always greener," she winked.
He smiled back and made her blush with the softness of it. He nodded, and at that moment she knew it was the extent of their conversation.
For now, Butch and Bubbles were happy to sit silently, simply enjoying one another's company as the lavenders of the sky rolled into vibrant fuchsias and citrus oranges. The sparkling of the snow reflecting the dyes of the morning sky left the blonde breathless and her lungs empty, yet her heart so incredibly full. At some point she refilled their cups once more, but nothing needed to be said.
So nothing was said.
At some point in their companionable silence, she looked over and felt her heart shove itself into her throat. When she saw how the golden orange of the rising sun illuminated his face, turning the forests of his eyes to olive and moss, she once more had that fleeting impulse of painting his likeness. His face was so relaxed, so content and so peaceful that he almost seemed foreign in his softness at that moment. His features were sharp, and the beautifully tranquil expression eased them in a way that she tattooed into her memory.
She had to forcibly peel her eyes away, not wanting to be caught. Her fingers curled tighter around her cup, and she hoped like hell that Butch couldn't hear the way her heart was leaping and turning insider her chest, going for the damn gold in yoga.
This silent morning spent with Butch was nothing less than perfect.
With cold hands and warm hearts, they spent their time quietly together.