Chapter 8: An Outing
Fenton was pissed off.
Nothing had gone right today. First Gyro was a total prick and shot down every suggestion he had for the Gizmoduck suit-Despite the fact that I'm the one who works on it 95% of the fucking time. Then at lunch he spilled hot soup all over his shirt and ended up going around for the rest of the day looking like a total slob, which was of course when Mr. McDuck decided to make another unscheduled visit to check on one of his 'pet projects'. After getting reprimanded for being "nae a bit too unkempt" by his boss and having to smile like an idiot while his design was picked apart by a man who had no idea the stress his 'minor changes' created-Sure thing Mr. McDuck, it won't be a problem at all to reconfigure the entire OS to match the specs that your 12 year old nephew suggested. Finally, he had to stay late and fix a mess created by L'il Bulb's latest glitch, where the anthropomorphic lamp had decided it wanted to start expressing itself by throwing tantrums that lead to every piece of paper and equipment in the lab being strewn about. Gyro thought it was cute. Fenton swore to never have a toddler-Not that that's really an option anymore.
By the time it was 6:15 he was trembling. It happened sometimes after days like the one he had had. The drive from the Money Bin to St. Canard wasn't too long, but it had been enough to let him angrily curse in Spanish for a solid 16 minutes. He parked a half-block down from Drake's apartment and tightly gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady his breathing. He knew his feathers were ruffled, but he didn't care. Está bien, cálmate Fenton. Cálmate. Drake was planning on taking him out for dinner and a movie. It was going to be a nice night. Fenton inhaled and clenched his fists one last time as he let out a slow steady breath. Va a estar bien. Va a ser una buena noche con Drake. No dejes que el trabajo lo arruine. He wasn't going to let his shitty day ruin his date night.
He plodded up the sidewalk and buzzed Drake's apartment.
"Hey Drake." He mumbled, trying to sound chipper.
"Hey Fenton. I'll let you up, give me a sec." He heard a buzz then the clunk of the door unlocking. A short trip across the lobby and he was rising up to the 15th floor. After a minute walk he was at Drake's apartment. He could hear the Muddlefoots through the wall next door, Pelican Island again? I get it's a classic, but there's got to be something else on TV. After a quick knock Drake opened the door and immediately frowned.
"Alright, what happened?"
Fenton tried to brush off his boyfriend's concern as he entered and sat on the couch. "Nothing, I'm fine." Drake crossed his arms, Fenton sighed. "It's just work."
Drake raised an eyebrow, "Okay, so what happened at 'just work'? You look like you've been ripping your feathers out for most of the day." He sat down next to the scientist, "That and your hands are trembling." He grasped Fenton's hands tenderly, Fenton hadn't noticed he still had them balled into fists. I guess they were like that all the way up here.
Fenton exhaled, trying to release his fists from Drake's hands-even if the soft touch was nice and warm, "It was a long day, I'm fine."
Drake was silent a moment before he tilted his head. "Would you be up for a change of plans? I think I have something that might be a good way to get that rage out."
"Rage? No, it's not…" Fenton tried to argue unconvincingly. "I'm just a little miffed right now." His voice rose and his hands started shaking more intensely. "This just happens sometimes, it'll go away in a bit."
Drake exhaled slowly as he rubbed the back of Fenton's hands with his thumbs. "I know it's rage because I deal with it too. You don't exactly become a superhero if you're well adjusted." He gestured at himself depreciatingly, "It took me a while to realize I was taking out my anger in my work. Hell, it wasn't until I almost broke my wrist beating the shit out of a purse snatcher that I finally realized I needed to do something instead of just randomly snapping on whoever the villain of the week was. I don't want that to happen to you, you need an outlet. What do you normally do when you feel like this?"
Fenton thought a moment, "I don't really do anything. I mean, I cursed a bunch on the way over, but that's about it." His voice diminished as he shrugged. "Normally I just ignore it."
Drake's frown creased a bit more. "Give me a minute." He raised a finger and went into his bedroom. A minute later he tossed a t-shirt and gym-shorts at Fenton. "We're going to the gym."
***DT***
Fenton told Drake he hadn't been in a gym for quite some time. And by some time he meant the last 29 years.
"So, never?" Drake smirked as the two stepped out of Drake's car and started walking toward the Everytime Gym.
"Yeah, never." Fenton admitted, rubbing his arm slightly embarrassed.
"Well, in that case we'll try a few different things. Figure out what works for you." Drake swiped his card and pulled the door open to let Fenton in. After stowing his bag by the door he shed his sweatshirt and stuffed it in a cubby. When he turned around to continue talking Fenton's jaw nearly hit the floor.
¡Santa mierda! ¡Drake es precioso! Fenton had never seen Drake in a sleeveless shirt before, let alone one that clung so closely to his body. He had known before that Drake was well built, getting picked up from the ground that easily was a clear sign of his strength, but he was still surprised by the extent of Drake's physique. His forearms were solid-and much larger than Fenton would've thought-I guess wearing all those baggy shirts helps hide it from people. But it wasn't just his arms that caused Fenton to try and resist salivating over his boyfriend. Unlike bodybuilders, Drake still had a little bit of weight around his mid-section, but it was clear that it was nearly all muscle. It was the body of someone who worked a physically demanding job, Which makes sense, given how he usually ends up patrolling on foot and fighting in hand-to-hand combat all the time.
"Hello? Earth to Fenton?" Drake waved his hand in front of Fenton.
"I. Um. Err…" Fenton stuttered, vamos cerebro, trabaja, "Sorry. I didn't realize how hot you were."
Drake immediately started turning red. "Uh, thanks." He coughed. "Why don't we get started with some cardio? It can be a good way to burn off some stress and get your body loosened up before we do anything else."
An hour later Fenton was exhausted. They'd run on treadmills, lifted weights, punched dummies, used countless machines-la mayoría de los cuales no tengo idea del uso de-that all seemed to be designed to torture different specific parts of his body, and finally done some stretching.
"So, how do you feel?" Drake asked, drenched in sweat as he held open the door to the parking lot.
Fenton was glad it was cold outside, he needed some fresh air. "Tired."
"Do you feel angry anymore?"
Fenton thought a moment. "No, even if my day was shitty, this was way worse."
Drake nearly burst out laughing. "Not exactly the point, but okay."
Fenton paused a moment as Drake unlocked his car, "It actually was kinda fun, aside from all the pain I'm sure is going to hurt way worse tomorrow morning."
"Well, not all of us can go around wearing a half-ton of metal to be heroes. Some of us have to earn it the old fashioned way." Drake nudged him as he got into the driver's seat.
Fenton rolled his eyes, even if Drake had given up insulting Gizmoduck he still had a bit of a rivalry with his boyfriend's alter-ego. He slid into the car and happily grabbed the water bottle Drake held out. "How often do you do this?"
"Usually 5, maybe 6 times a week. They're open 24 hours so I stop in a lot after or before I patrol."
Fenton hardly controlled the look of shock on his face. After a moment he regained his composure, "Well, maybe we could do this again-not 5 or 6 times a week-but maybe once or twice? Gyro keeps telling me that if I end up ejected again I need to be able to do something about it."
"Ejected?"
"The suit can be remotely overridden in emergencies and eject the operator to keep them safe, but Mark Beaks did it once to try and get the suit for himself when I was 'Waddleduck'." Fenton sneered at the name.
Drake scowled, "Wait, you've had to deal with that self-obsessed moron too? I've had to keep that idiot from crashing his helicopter into high-rises at least a dozen times."
Fenton scoffed, That definitely sounds like Beaks. "Yeah, he's basically declared himself my arch-nemesis for some reason. I guess he really wants the suit."
"But isn't he, like, a tech billionaire? Couldn't he just make one?"
"I think he could, but he just wants mine because it means I wouldn't have it."
"Wow." Drake wasn't too surprised.
"I know, he's a total dick. Plus I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know my name, he just kept calling me 'amigo'."
"Well that isn't racist at all."
"I'm not surprised. If people found out Gizmoduck was Cuban I'm pretty sure I'd lose a good chunk of my fans. Why do you think I only speak English when I'm in the suit? Nobody would take me seriously if they knew who I really was." Fenton shrugged.
Drake nearly slammed on the brakes right where they were, but waited until a stop sign to do so-I've already been rear-ended enough times. "No." He looked Fenton directly in the eyes, "Dude, stop getting down on yourself. Plenty of people would love to know that Gizmoduck is Cuban."
"I'm not getting down on myself." Fenton huffed, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm the one with brown feathers here. I know what I'm talking about." He gestured at himself. "Drake, you have no idea what it's like."
"Fenton, I-"
"Have you ever been pulled over for being out after dark and driving in a nicer part of town and had to have your mother, the captain of her precinct, bail you out of a holding cell? Or have you ever been yelled at and told to go 'back to Mexico' because you were speaking Spanish on the phone in line at the store, wishing your cousin well before her surgery? What about at school? When you were a kid were you lumped in with a bunch of other kids with the same color feathers and put in a special class together, even though none of you were from the same countries and had almost nothing in common?" Fenton was fuming.
Drake didn't know what to say. "I, um, no… I'm sorry."
Fenton looked down and saw his fists were shaking again. After a moment he took a few deep breaths, "No, I'm sorry. It's not your fault." He exhaled, "People, they suck sometimes."
"Yeah. I get it."
Fenton glared at him.
"Not in the exact same way as you, but I get what it's like to be judged." Drake defended. "In case you haven't noticed I'm not exactly subtle with my sexuality. That's gotten me into trouble plenty of times. I grew up in Tennetucky. You have any idea what it's like to be hogtied and suspended from a hay-trolley? That was before I was out. I'm pretty sure I'd be killed if I ever tried going back where I grew up."
Fenton was about to interject but Drake continued.
"Yes, I get that you're both, but that isn't the point that I'm making. What I am saying is that I embrace it. Fuck people who aren't willing to accept me for being me. You should do the same." He leaned over to Fenton, "You are incredible, handsome, brilliant, charming, and Cuban. You shouldn't be afraid to show anyone all of that." He kissed Fenton, a quick but powerful spark filling the air as they did so. "I love you, and so will everyone else."
"Wow." Fenton muttered, a prickling feeling rising on the back of his arms. "Maybe, I just, it's a lot."
"Okay, just, um, think about it." Drake said, trying to hide the sudden warmness that was filling his chest, turning his eyes back to the road.
It was a few minutes later when Drake glanced over at Fenton. His hands were slowly moving up and down his arms and he was looking out the window. Why can't I get that kiss out of my mind? We've kissed plenty of times! "Hey, um, when we get back to my place I'm thinking I'll grab a shower and we can hang out for a bit, would you be okay with that?"
Fenton looked back over at Drake, still trying to rub the goose bumps on his arms away, "Yeah, that'd be nice. I just need something to take my mind off everything."
Drake glanced over, "I don't want to push my luck, but with everything we did tonight I had a good time. And, like, we do need to get you cleaned up and out of those sweaty clothes. No, God, that was cheesy. Look, I, well, I…" He paused, hoping he hadn't misread anything. Fenton raised an eyebrow but wasn't saying anything, "I was wondering if you'd, well…" Drake stumbled over his words. Come on man, you literally went to college for talking effectively!
"Have sex with you?" Fenton supplied.
"Um, yeah…" Drake sunk into his shoulders, ready for the refusal.
Fenton glanced out the window a moment before turning back to Drake, "Sure. You have everything or do we need to stop and get some stuff? I've never really done this, well, with a guy before, so I don't know how it works."
Drake immediately blushed bright red. "Um, I think I've got everything."
"Okay, well, then I guess you can just show me."
***DT***
Fenton was grinning ear to ear.
Last night had been much better than he expected. Drake and I definitely need to work out together more often. He sipped his coffee and hummed happily as Gyro started in on his usual bullshit. He might be a bit of a dick, but at least he was attempting to be nicer-well, as nice as Gyro can be. He was halfway through his standard 'you might not be an intern anymore but I still know better than you' lecture when he stopped.
"Wait a minute." The rooster narrowed his eyes. "Something's different with you."
Fenton's eyes widened. "Nope. Nothing different Dr. Gearloose."
"No, there's something…"
"Um, I had more sleep than usual last night?" Fenton lied; I didn't sleep at all last night.
After a second the rooster's eyes widened. "God damnit! You finally had sex didn't you?"
Fenton immediately snapped his beak shut, hoping his reddening face wouldn't give him away.
Gyro stomped his foot on the ground. He angrily muttered, "Manny you won!" The horse happily stomped out a message on the floor.
Fenton was confused, "What? Won what?"
Gyro rolled his eyes, "We all knew the second you and Darkwing met it was a matter of time until you finally did it. I mean, there was some SERIOUS unresolved sexual tension."
Fenton panicked, "I'm not dating Darkwing Duck, I, um…"
"Save it. We all know Drake's secret identity. I mean, seriously, he has the exact same voice. It isn't that hard to figure out if you've met them both in person." Gyro waved his hand.
Fenton frowned, "So, wait, you were betting on how long until we hooked up?"
"Yeah."
"Isn't that kind of an HR violation?"
Gyro raised an eyebrow, "We routinely almost kill people because of the crazy OSHA violating shit that happens in here. You really think our HR department cares about us?" He gestured toward the giant robot they were currently designing for use in the shipping department.
Fenton shrugged, I mean, when you put it like that. "Fair enough. Out of curiosity, who all was betting?"
"Who wasn't?" Gyro pulled up a screen and projected a list of people.
A list of basically every employee of the Money Bin appeared. Fenton scanned the names, "Wait, even Launchpad made a guess?"
"Yeah, and he actually came in second. Guess he gets the gift card."
"Gift card?"
"Yeah, Manny wanted the movie passes so Launchpad gets the gift card for Starbeaks."
Fenton knocked his head against his desk.
"Anyway lover-boy, as I was saying…"
***Author's Note***
Hello everyone! I hope you all are enjoying the change into warmer weather (well, for all of us in the Northern Hemisphere). I wanted to let you all know that we are about at the half-way point. I'm planning 18 chapters for this fic, and I should be posting relatively regularly. Thank you for all those reading, and I hate to ask, but I would like some feedback. Please leave reviews so I know how things are going, or if you have suggestions. This is my first DT fic and I apologize if anyone seems OOC. Anyway, hope you all enjoy. Thanks!
