Chapter one: Cherrypop
Okay, in Hughie's defense, he didn't intend to start finding the man with the cherry danishes attractive.
But now that he's breached the point of no return he can freely admit- in his mind, at least- that that guy? He's hawt.
Like, a real freaking hottie that Hughie definitely hasn't imagined absolutely destroying him in the bathroom like a cheap slut, tasting cherry goddamn danish on his tongue. Certainly not because if there was going to be someone in this ridiculously rural town able to offer and deliver him earth shattering, epiphany striking, organ rearranging sex, it was going to be that guy right there-
The grizzled looking man (that could be the same age as his father, mind you, and Hughie really doesn't want to psychoanalyze all that) with the Harry Potter scar, popped open Hawaiian shirts and sparing glances- who just so happens to really appreciate his cherry danish recipe apparently. Okay, so maybe Hughie is a little stuck up on the danishes.
He's not even gay! Well, you know, other than his entirely homosexual thoughts taking over his every waking moment as of late because god does he want-
He isn't even really sure of what exactly he wants- to get fucked? To fuck?
The sudden, inspired image of all that rough strength hapless beneath him of all people, maybe even tied up to his bed posts that slam against the wall at the smallest shift of his creaky mattress, growling his name and asking for more-
Hughie has a girlfriend. A really pretty, really funny girlfriend named Robin who absolutely adores him even though she isn't the biggest fan of Billy Joel, but that's okay because Hughie is willing to love her despite that. And they work, they work really well. And at some point Hughie can even imagine himself marrying her, starting a life together with her here in town, take over the diner, just like dad's always hoped, pop out a few kids and the next thing you know he's retired and dead…
Just because he's been masterbating in the bathroom almost daily with thoughts of some really sexy British dude sucking his dick doesn't mean he loves Robin any less.
It just… means Hughie has a little crush, a tiny crush that'll fade like crushes do when the guy inevitably stops showing up around the diner. Life will go back to what it was and Hughie will eventually stop watching rugged, gay porn at night. Probably.
But of course the guy then has to go and actually say more than a couple words to him.
There's a light knock on his bedroom door and Hughie turns in his swivel chair to face his dad, looking away from a youtube clip of his favorite show as of late, Homelander. "Hey, Hughie, can you cover the register downstairs? I'm sorry, I know you aren't feeling the best but something came up, Amber had to leave for the day, some sort of family emergency and I really need to get these shipment orders filled out by this afternoon.."
Unbidden, a particularly sexy stranger's smirk flashes in Hughie's mind at the mention of the diner, a cocky smirk curling around a dirty thumb to lick off cherry filling-
"Hem. Sure, uh, dad," Hughie nods rapidly, smiling thinly after blowing out a breath as if to physically expel his naughty thoughts from his body. If only it were that simple. "No problem..."
No problem, he had said. No. Problem. He is such an idiot, he should have known that of course there was going to be a problem.
"Haven't seen you around in a while."
Hughie totally does not jump, but he does stop his fumbling with tying his apron and pretending not to send furtive glances towards the man plaguing his every thought, who seems to have decided to sit directly in front of the cash register tonight. Awesome. Just- Perfect. On point with his luck, really.
A brief, irrational, he knows! nearly scares the shit out of Hughie but then he really thinks about what he's been doing the past two weeks. More so, the past couple days as he's been pretending to be sick to get out of working for the sole purpose of not seeing this danish loving asshole everyday.
Hughie sighs, as he finally manages to securely tie the knot of his apron behind himself before drumming his fingers on the counter around the register. It's not like it's this guy's fault Hughie's apparently hit his second puberty, the man clearly only comes here for the free refill coffee and cherry danishes as he works on his beat laptop.
"Yeah… I've been-" Completely mooning for you like some lovestruck school girl? "Er- sick…" That's one way of putting it, he supposed…
Hughie very purposefully does not glance towards the man's hands sprawled on the counter opposing the register, the gold band glinting back almost mockingly in the corner of his eye. Because yeah, the man Hughie has been fantasizing tearing him apart these past two weeks is totally married and has been this entire time. What is wrong with me?
"So.. can I get you anything…? Another danish, maybe? On the house," Hughie can comfortably say that this is a guilt danish for objectifying the shit out of the guy in his mind and definitely not a 'I'd drop to my knees in a second for you' danish. Nah. Nope. "You come here often enough."
"Well, Isn't that fucking touchin'," The man curls his lip in that cockish, almost default smirk of his that definitely isn't making Hughie tingle from head to fucking toe. Jezus Christ, control yourself.
"Alright then," The man leans forward a tad, squinting a bit towards his name tag and the faint smell of almost campfire smoke and wet dirt wafts beneath Hughie's nose, "'Hughie', make it the cherry again. What are you making those fuckers with anyway, crack? I've never had cherry flavored crack before but it's probably something similar enough."
Hughie leans over to grab a cherry danish from the tray with an almost reluctant smile, putting it on a napkin before sliding it across the countertop towards the man. "Not crack, no… bit too pricey of an ingredient for our diner, we just use the cheap shit, black tar heroin," Oh my god, what are you even saying- "D-depends on how much the person usually tips, really."
Hughie closes his eyes, mortified, because he knows for a fact that this dude has never tipped a freaking dime, but the man only chuckles lowly, barely a sound at all really, almost an exhale but boy does it immediately remind Hughie of his ever growing tab at the spank bank. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Right…"
"So, Hughie," Oh my god oh my god- The man raises his brows, a bit of danish crumbling onto his beard as he gestures with the treat, almost baring his teeth in a cheap imitation of a smile. "How many nannies do you think actually shake the babies?"
All thoughts of sweaty, loud bathroom sex record scratches in his brain. Hughie blinks, "Huh?"
"You know," The man crunches the danish in his grip a bit, giving it a good shake, bits of flakey dough and icing sugar scattering everywhere but neither of them give a shit about that. "A nice, strong, rattle."
"I'm sorry, I feel like I missed when we started talking about shaking babies…" Even as he says it Hughie can feel his face warping strangely. He had envisioned their first conversation in a number of ways, some, okay most, let's face it, entirely sexual, sure, but he never anticipated… well, that. "A-are we? What are we talking about?"
The man only rolls his eyes at his babbling, stuffing another large bite of danish into his mouth and speaking around it, "Ain't the same out of context, 'suppose. That's on me, Hughie, now, lighten' up, would ya? I was just messing with you."
Hughie swallows, smiling weakly as he rocks back on his heels just in case he does something stupid like getting lost in the man's eyes, because he honestly wouldn't put it past himself at this point despite whatever the hell this guy's talking about. "You've sure got a.. interesting sense of humor there…"
"Butcher," The man grins wickedly, licking a flake of danish from his lip before wiping at the bottom of his mouth with his sooty hand and squinting his eyes in almost a leer at Hughie's sudden look of panicked confusion. "It's my name, you stupid cunt. Cheers."
He tosses the rest of his danish in his mouth as if he hadn't just insulted his way through an introduction and pathetically all Hughie can think is,
Of course his name is fucking 'Butcher'. That is probably the hottest name that could have come out of his mouth oh my g-
The bell chimes above the door and Hughie's head snaps up, on time to meet Robin's scanning gaze of the diner. Her face immediately brightens at the sight of him and wow, I'm such a fucking asshole.
"Hughie! I thought you said you weren't feeling well?" Butcher turns a bit on his stool to see what the fuss is about, brows rising a bit and Hughie looks away quickly as Robin approaches.
"Yeah, but Amber had a family emergency of some sort, it's fine, really," Hughie immediately accepts the hand she reaches across the counter as she leans her elbows onto it, blinking up at him with a grin as that one, wild curl in her hair brushes against her forehead, the smell of her beater jacket like a slap to the face. It hits Hughie rather abruptly- how in the world could he ever be looking at somebody else when he has this in his life? Robin really just is wonderful, she always has been.
Hughie squeezes her hand, leaning in and smiling a whole lot more genuinely as she scrunches her nose up at him as she begins to speak somewhat coyly, "Well, then, since you seem to be in such perfect condition, clearly..."
Hughie can feel his smile dope up, eyes dropping as Robin bites her lips before meeting her satisfied gaze again. "Clearly..."
"You wouldn't mind if I came over, say, later tonight, then?" Hughie carefully makes an unconvinced expression, as if he ever needed to think about it longer than a split second, leaning back and swinging their connected hands a bit.
"Well, I don't know, Robin, why? Why would a dignified lady such as yourself ever possibly ask me such a question?"
"Well, you see, I saw this thing in a magazi-"
"Hate to interrupt," The both of them startle, Hughie's gaze snapping to the side with a jolt. Butcher raises a brow, glancing between the both of them with a blank expression. "You're in my way, love."
"Oh! Sorry about that!" Robin immediately steps to the side, laughing with some embarrassment as Butcher only slides off his stool with a wink, rubbing crumbs off his pineapple shirt while languidly walking past them towards the bathrooms.
"Hey, that guy seems kind of familiar…"
Hughie shrugs in a hopefully completely casual way, not at all concerned by the concerning, stray thought of his girlfriend suddenly somehow obtaining mind reading abilities and discovering his very descriptive mental infideliting ways. Definitely not. "He's been coming around the diner a lot the past couple of weeks. Almost every day, actually, now that I think about it…" Yeah, he didn't notice that the third day in or anything.
"Huh…" Robin shrugs, before giving him her full, clearly conspiring attention as she leans in again, trailing her fingers softly up his forearm. "Anyways, where were we…?"
Hughie leans in as well, smelling her citrus perfume with an innocent smile. "Where? Well, I think we were talking about binging my favorite show tonight while we... well… you know… discuss our mutual adoration for the one and only rock n' roll king, Billy Joel."
"Oh my god, would you shut up?" Robin laughs in that way she does when he's been particularly clever, pulling at his shirt slightly in jest as her eyes twinkle. "I am not doing anything with that dumb ass show in the background. I'd sooner besmirch-"
"Hey, don't you dare finish that sentence," Hughie sinks into the brief kiss she suddenly pulls him into, it's warm and just- Robin. How have I been thinking of anybody else? "Besides, Homelander is a good show, you're just dying for his downfall the entire time- Certainly not worth damning your soul for eternity over by besmirching the Joel."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," Hughie recalls some particularly gruesome and, uhh, explicit, scenes from the television show and suddenly realizes he doesn't want Robin to see a single second of it. "Now that I think about it, it's actually kind of messed up. It's… it can get pretty violent. Homelander's like, a rapey superman. Not exactly a mood setter if you know what I mean. But when I met John-"
A sharp thwack has both Hughie and Robin jumping in surprise, the sound of one of the bathroom doors smacking against the tiled walls behind them. Hughie turns to follow Robin's sudden stunned, if not freaked expression looking over his shoulder.
Standing at the lip of the little hallway leading to the diner bathrooms, Butcher is practically glaring a hole into him. It actually freezes him up on the spot, the almost feral look brewing in the man's eyes and Hughie suddenly, horrifyingly wonders why it never clicked in his brain that cherry danish guy could actually be dangerous. Another part of him whispers, mocking. Wasn't that the point?
"What was that?" Butcher's voice is tight, almost wavering for just the faintest moment that Hughie thinks he might have imagined it as he next barks out commandingly. "What the fuck did you just say, Hughie?"
Hughie startles at the strange familiarity the man husks his name out with, eyes widening as he unconsciously rounds the counter a bit more towards a nervous, open mouthed Robin. Hughie licks his lips, gaze skittering to the phone next to the register in panic. This is exactly why they have the sheriff's office on speed dial-
Hughie only realizes his mistake once he looks back up and meets Butcher's narrowed gaze, realizing with gut punching dread that the man had followed his eye movement and probably the entire plan formulating in his mind.
Quick as a whip Butcher finally pulls his hand out from hiding behind his back, leveling a scuffed pistol straight at Hughie's chest, face twisting unpleasantly.
Holy shit. For one, fleeting second Hughie sees himself getting shot by the guy he has been fantasizing fucking the shit out of him for weeks and nearly laughs hysterically at the overwhelming sheer adrenaline that lights up his system in response.
And then Robin screams, shaking hands gripping onto the back of his shirt like a lifeline, dragging him back and distantly Hughie wonders if he just got Robin- wonderful, brilliant Robin- murdered because of his wandering infatuation, unable to see the signs that were probably showing just how unstable Butcher apparently is, all because he was too busy thinking about wetting his dick.
"Ah, ah, how's about we all take a second to just, calm ourselves down, yeah?" Butcher's gaze flickers over their shaking forms almost in disappointment, before his face twitches with brief anger when he settles on Hughie, reluctance, and then firm, dreadful acceptance. "Step away from the fucking counter."
The emotional cacophony on Butcher's face, seemingly meant for him alone, sends Hughie's stomach into a ball of deep, warping dread. The thought of finding this man anything but the terrifying threat he is all but a distant memory in his mind.
He and Robin pointedly shuffle away from the counter nervously but not far enough to look like they're trying to book it for the exit standing just a few, tantalizing feet away...
"Fucking hell," Butcher closes his eyes momentarily before shaking his head and approaching the two of them as he tilts his jaw with annoyance, eyes slitting harshly. "I didn't want it to go this way, Hughie, you've got to at least believe me on that."
He and Robin don't get to scramble back far as Butcher grabs hold of Hughie's arm and Robin screams.
Butcher winces at the shrill, harshly yanking him away from Robin and Hughie can feel his mouth parch as the circle of the gun chamber suddenly digs into his side painfully, a cockney drawl snapping directly next to his ear, vivid like a live wire against his skin. "Fucking Shut the fuck up! I'm not gonna hurt ya' Robin- Unless you keep on screaming like that- you bloody airhorn! Jesus…"
Hughie can feel his body sway with the force of his beating heart, a veil of fear draping over him like an unwelcome embrace as Butcher glances towards the exit with a firm grip still on his arm. "L-listen, Butcher, what-whatever this is about, it's fine- ju- no, just take the cash and go, alright?"
Butcher closes his eyes at his rambled pleading, as if almost pained, which is a distant, strange thought for Hughie to have considering the man is actively holding a gun against his hip.
"I don't want the fucking cash, Hughie. But, now that you mention it, it couldn't hurt to have a little extra sway in the pocket… gonna need it for the road, afterall, we've got a long fucking trip ahead of us."
The chug of his blood suddenly rushing in his ears nearly drowns out his own mumbled response. "What?"
"What?" Robin's state of shock doesn't last for quite as long, tears dripping trails from her face as her mouth drops open in horror and she shrieks. "You- No- you-you-you can't-!"
"Watch me." Butcher raises the gun swiftly to aim at her feet and shoots the floor. Hughie screams with Robin this time, hapless as Butcher suddenly wraps his warm forearm around his throat just tight enough as a warning. Butcher's chest against his back is too hot and their shirts are both damp from the Georgia heat and Hughie feels like he's going to be sick.
He has no choice but to walk backwards with Butcher's hold as the bell to the door jingles tauntingly sweet, Butcher shoving it open with his back as he points his gun at Robin, steady as any marksman. "You wait until were good and gone to call the cops or I splatter Hughie's brains all over the fucking window, got it?"
"Hughie..." Robin claps her hands over her mouth, whimpering loudly as she shakes on the spot, frozen. "P-please, no just- please, please- don't-"
The click of the glass door closing shut in front of him silences Robin's pleas but he can see just fine as she crumples to the floor, sobbing. Hughie can taste acid reflux as he's jerked around, gasping for breath as he's suddenly released from the headlock and shoved forward.
A hand clamps down not a second later, gripping his shoulder tightly and leading the way through the almost empty gravel parking lot towards the black, beat car he knows belongs to the man. Hughie's heart nearly leapfrogs out of his mouth, stumbling to drag his feet on the gravel against Butcher's impatient crowding as his mind thinks of sex trafficking statistics and secondary locations-
"I-I-I don't understand- Did- Did I do some-something wrong Butcher? C'mon, please, you-you don't have to do this-"
Butcher cages him against his car with a harsh shove, hovering his face over his shoulder until all Hughie can see is the unrelenting fire in his eyes. Complete, gut churning resolve sees straight through him. "Shut your trap Hughie and get in the fucking car."
Hughie does.