A secret lover disappears by morning, burning away like fog under sunlight. Vic doesn't have to read the trashy gas station novels to know that. The sun rises and so do neighbors, listening and wondering and talking in hushed voices about the stranger leaving the apartment next door. Better to beat them to it, to get out of Dodge before anyone can see you getting.
Being a cliche doesn't make it any less true.
Honestly, Vic wouldn't blame Jemma for cutting out early, before he woke up. For being careful, whether for her own sake or his. He wouldn't blame her for leaving. But here's the funny thing.
She didn't.
Vic opens his eyes to silky strands of pink splayed across his pillow, bare inches from tickling his face. The slow, deep breathing of another body sharing his bed. A pale arm thrown securely across his waist.
She stayed.
Maybe it's dumb, how he thinks of this. A 'fling' when they haven't done the deed or anything remotely close. Midnight cooking sessions, how scandalous. Holding hands, how audacious! For gosh sake, he hasn't even worked up the courage to kiss her yet. This thing they have, it's hardly a sinful, sex-fueled pleasure ride, or even the reckless too-hot-to-hold mistake Vic expected when Jinx purred his name and called him handsome.
They've done so much less than he expected. It feels like more.
So, 'fling'? Nah. Not really.
He just doesn't have another word.
"Good morning," Jemma mumbles, voice blurred by sleep. Fluttering, soft pink eyelashes signal half-opened eyes, but she doesn't look up. Her hand lingers at his back, pressure light and tentative. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." Vic lets out a sigh. Mirth rolls over him when it ruffles her bangs. "Thanks to you."
Her lips quirk into the smirk. He wants to kiss it into a grin.
A couple heartbeats pass, throbbing in double time. His body, heart and brain, is all too aware of her proximity. Of his shallow breaths and her cool, languid motions as she tucks her head against his chest.
Vic closes his eyes and lets the moment stretch. He pulls it out like a length of taffy, sinking into her presence the way his heavy, tired muscles do the downy mattress. Drawing him in, wrapping his limbs in thick layers of gauzy peace.
But even a concept pliable as time has a breaking point.
"I'm sorry," Jemma whispers eventually, the words teasing against his neck. "I have to go."
"Right." Reluctantly, Vic releases her and returns to the world.
His systems finish booting up. Morning protocols begin. Night protocols are shelved and reset. All readying him for another day spent hiding.
What he can't quite hide are the glances he steals as Jemma slips her shoes on and brushes the wrinkles from her clothes. "Want me to give you a ride? I got a little time before…"
The words fall away, dissolving beneath his tongue. Vic tenses his jaw as Jemma shoots him an apologetic glance.
A ride home? Home to HIVE headquarters? In broad daylight?
How does he keep forgetting? That's not what this is. She's not his girlfriend.
"Never mind." Vic stares at the closed blinds, picturing the morning traffic and hazy sunlight. The city rising from slumber and demanding the protection of its favorite heroes, defense from the terrible plots of villainy and destruction.
"I'd let you if I could."
Vic nods, once. His thoughts grind to a standstill as Jemma leans over the bed to side-hug him and touch a kiss to his cheek.
"I'll text you."
His heart skips as he watches her walk away. Not the mechanical organ in his chest keeping steady, relentless time and him alive. Nah, it's the one Star calls his 'true heart'. The 'core of his being and center of all energy'.
The part of him that leaps, aching, to meet Jemma's every touch. The piece so determined to build a world around scattered smiles and light compliments.
"Yeah," Vic agrees to the empty room. To the sound of the front door closing. "I'll be waiting."
When Star and Robin spar, it's a show. A dance, even, composed of movements so brutally intentional they're graceful. A dance the couple takes pleasure in, if their huge grins are any indication. For them, it's more than a training session. It's a bonding exercise, like a love language all their own, the weirdos.
When Vic and Jinx fight, it's suicide.
Every attack he aims, every move he tries is a scalpel he uses to slit himself open, from skin straight to breastbone. Exposing his heart for the sole purpose of ripping it from his chest. It's self-destruction, self-sabotage, whatever you want to call it.
Suicide.
Trying to hurt her is unthinkable. The idea of infinitesimally calculated, temporarily disabling shots sends waves of nausea rolling through him. It brought him to his knees once. He was lucky the team bought the injury excuse.
So when the Titans and the HIVE Five clash, Vic takes on Mammoth. Or See-More. Or Gizmo. Whoever they brought, whoever they throw at him. Anyone will do. Anyone to keep from fighting her.
But he can't tear his eyes away. Vic's constantly checking, stealing breath-brief looks and tuning his sonic receptors to her heartbeat to make sure she's alright. Wincing when Star knocks her off her feet or BB swoops in with talons outstretched.
They don't go for blood, of course. The Titans never do, Slade being the only exception.
Vic reminds himself of that fact over and over. Doesn't calm the acrid panic rising in his throat.
If it came down to it… If Raven lost her cool, or BB went full-on animal, or Terra's control shattered… What would Vic do?
How far would he go to save her?
Like she needs saving, he'd scoff to himself, shoving his mind back into the fight.
He can't help checking on her. So much so that it's a dang miracle no one on the team has figured it out.
She never looks his way.
"Is something up with you?"
Vic freezes. Stupid. Obvious.
But at least he doesn't flinch. "Nah. What are you talking about?"
Raven watches him with a steady frown. "What happened yesterday. Starfire told me about your… sudden departure."
Raven? Trying to be diplomatic? Man, she really is worried.
"I'm good." Vic shrugs. "It was an off day."
"Start with pattern Sigma 3." Robin's gaze roves across the team, lingering briefly on Vic. It moves on when Vic flashes him a thumbs up and a grin.
Not sure Robin is convinced. Raven definitely isn't.
Then the simulation begins and the Titans roll into action.
Vic leaps from behind a rock wall, blasting one of the machine guns spitting a fan formation of rubber bullets. A whirring behind him sets his neck hairs on end.
An electric net catapults from the cliff toward Vic and is promptly intercepted by Star. She wraps the annoyance around her fist and tosses it aside in a single, neat motion. Her eyes lock on Vic. "Are you well?" Her other hand destroys the launcher with a starbolt.
"'Course I am! Didn't even touch me." Leaning out from cover, Vic aims for the other gun.
"No, I speak of yesterday. When you exhibited severe distress."
He shakes his head, swiveling to take out another net launcher before it can take out Raven. "I'm good. Just had an off day."
With a soft click, his sonic cannon retracts. Vic charges onto the battleground and tackles one of the robotic soldiers, plowing into it with a lowered shoulder. Metal collides with meter-thick tree trunk and shatters.
"Nice!" BB rolls into an armadillo/pangolin thing, bowling over a pair of bots. A green blur marks his return transformation. "Must be feelin' better, huh?" He fumbles to keep his balance as the earth buckles nearby, shock waves from Terra's latest strike.
"Man, focus on the fighting." Thought he'd bypass these conversations by arriving for training right on the dot.
Ha. Not a chance.
Five minutes later, half the course is trashed and Robin stands with his arms folded and conflict written across his face.
"Next time, let's aim for a little less damage." He shoots Tara and Vic matching looks.
Tara rubs the back of her neck and laughs awkwardly. If the gesture wasn't so clearly automatic, Vic would think she picked it up from Gar.
"Dude, no way anyone is gonna kick our butts ever again!" Gar tosses an arm across Tara's shoulders. "Not with our new secret weapon!"
For a moment, her expression slips. Then Tara grins, blushing as Gar blabbers on about how tough the Titans are gonna be, how they're gonna scare the criminals away and have to go looking for baddies to take down, yadda yadda. Typical Gar stuff.
Vic tunes him out and studies Tara's face.
Gar's hyping her and the rest of the team up. She's a little embarrassed. That's it. Vic saw something that wasn't there, for one reason or another. Saw nothing, really.
This is the third time he's seen 'nothing'.
Maybe he should talk to Gar. The dude's a great guy, but he can get a little pushy. And it's hard to say no to someone who can make literal puppy eyes.
Five more combat scenarios later, Robin finally sets the team free, either satisfied with their fierce performance or frustrated by their destructive tendencies. Honestly, it's hard to tell what goes on in that spiky head half the time.
"Nice moves." Tara trades knuckles with Vic on the way out.
She takes one, two, three strides before he makes up his mind.
"Yo, Tara."
She half turns.
Vic lifts an eyebrow. "You good?"
There. That microsecond slip. Without cybernetic processing speed, Vic might not even spot the crack before she covers it up.
"Totally."
"Sure? 'Cause you know…" Vic glances both ways. No sign of BB. "Just because Gar likes you and all doesn't mean you have to date him. If that's not what you want, you can tell him. He's tougher than he looks."
Tara's eyes widen and she holds out her hands, shaking her head violently. "No, no, I like him. I…" Swallowing, she averts her gaze to the left. Something deep and sad fills the blue. "I like him a lot."
"'Kay. But if he does something dumb, I will totally knock some sense into him for you. Like that yawn trick? The movie theater one? He tried that last night, didn't he?"
Tara laughs. "No. I mean, he did, but it's fine. He even asked if it was okay." She glances down the hall and tucks her hair behind her ear, all shy fondness. "He's one of the good boys."
Aw.
Vic nods. Clears his throat. "Sounds good. Y'know, if you ever need to…"
His mouth goes dry.
"If there's something wrong…"
"I can tell you guys, yeah, yeah."
Tara watches him, concern the emotion swimming in her eyes now.
"If you ever need anything, let me know." Vic holds her gaze for only a moment.
Hypocrite.
"Thanks, Vic." Tara steps forward to pull him into a hug. "Really."
Her hands are clenching the back of his shirt. Vic rests his palms lightly on her shoulders, noting the tension there. She releases him and steps back.
"Ugh, my turn to clean up breakfast and I totally forgot." Tara jabs a thumb over her shoulder. "Better get to it before Robin gets me."
Vic watches her trot down the hallway.
He better check with Gar.
"I sure hope you're not doin' something stupid."
Gar leaps nearly four feet, morphing in and out of cat midair. "Dude! Don't sneak up on me like that!" He scoops the GameStation controller from the floor with one hand and gestures at the TV. "I was in the groove!"
"You might wanna talk to Tara."
The controller lands on the coffee table, discarded in half a second. "Why? Is something wrong? Is she okay?"
"Don't know. There's something up, though." Vic narrows his eyes. "Which is why I said you better not be doin' something stupid."
"I– wha–" Gar's hands flutter in confused circles. Then they halt and his expression hardens. "Hey, what kinda guy do you think I am?"
"All I know is Tara's upset and you were with her last night."
Gar flashes his teeth. "You know what? You've been a huge jerk since you moved out."
Heat floods Vic's neck, coursing directly to his tongue. He growls, "Big talk for a brat who–"
With a snap, Vic falls back into himself. Realizes where he is. Who he's chewing out for no real reason, about to throw down with words he doesn't mean and can't take back.
This isn't some punk. This is his best friend.
Hanging his head, Vic runs a rough hand over his face. "Sorry," he rumbles.
"Cy… You… You good?"
When Vic lifts his head, Gar is staring in wide-eyed concern. Just like Tara, not two minutes ago.
Maybe Vic's the one acting off.
"Yeah." He straightens and shoves his hands in his pockets. "I'm– I'm really sorry, man, I don't know what that was. I didn't mean anything, I know you're cool, I just… You gotta be careful with the people who matter to you. 'Specially when it's– you know." He shrugs, mumbling now. "New and fragile."
Gar blinks at him. A slow grin creeps across his face.
Vic frowns. "Bro, why you makin' that face?"
A devilish glint flares in Gar's eyes. "Dude, I get it now."
Oh no. The eyebrows again.
"You have a girlfriend."
Vic's stomach drops. A cold sweat breaks out across the back of his neck. His mouth opens and closes uselessly, jaw hanging by a string.
"That's where you've been!" Gar slugs Vic's arm. "You sly guy, you. It all makes sense! Moody, secretive, don't wanna hang out. You've been smoochin' on the side! Why didn't you just say so?"
"Didn't… know… what you'd say." Vic blinks down at his best buddy laughing his fuzzy green head off.
What kind of vegan crap is Gar drinking? Did it go straight to his brain? In what world does having a girlfriend make a guy lash out at his best friend?
"Fine, I promise I won't make fun of you." Gar's lips curl into a smirk, straining to hold back another burst of laughter. "For today."
"Hey, what's there to make fun of?" Vic folds his arms and fixes the little goon with a steely stare.
"You tell me. What's her name? Do I know her? Oh man, I bet you made a total fool of yourself when you first met, so you've kept it secret. Can't let the story get out. Am I right?" His eyebrows waggle up and down.
Vic just shakes his head and heads for the hall.
"Whoa, c'mon! I was just kidding. Don't be mad, Cy…"
"Got a headache." His voice rolls back to meet his own ears, low and hollow. "Don't wanna talk."
"Fine." Gar cups his hands to his mouth. "Be that way! I was just trying to help!"
He's right. Vic knows he's right.
Flipping his hood up, he slips into the rain.