Authors Note:
There is another version of this chapter up on AO3 - but it really doesn't 'add' anything to the chapter. It's like, a few paragraphs. I donno. XD
Though I can post pictures on AO3. So...there are pictures. :D
Question though - do folks prefer long chapters, or short chapters? Or is it not really something I should worry about?
Chapter Eight: A Night
Rilo came awake suddenly.
She sat up, clutching at her chest as she breathed heavily. The nightmare was fading, just vague, inky blotches remained to stain her vision and terrify her. Whatever it had been, just like the previous nights, she couldn't recall it, but every night—all week long—the same nightmare had twisted its way through her mind like a worm. Keigo's feather around her neck was awkwardly stuck to her skin due to the slickness of sweat. She glanced at the empty, cold spot in the bed beside her. He'd been getting home extremely late, sometimes in the earliest hours of the morning, and he'd be gone again before breakfast. Something about being rostered on for night duties, except, shouldn't that have meant he was supposed to catch up on sleep during the day?
She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity.
He pushed himself, beyond the limits.
Her racing heart was finally dropping, leaving her bitterly cold and oddly weak, even ill feeling. If only she could remember what the nightmare was about. It didn't seem at all fair for her subconsciousness to be torturing her and not giving a hint as to what it was anxious about.
She slinked out of the bed. She was awake now, and sleep wouldn't come easy for a while. She'd make tea. That always relaxed her. Rilo swept back the sheer curtains, padding her way towards the dim lights of the kitchen. Rilo startled to a halt, surprised at the silhouette by the kitchen bench. She'd honestly thought he hadn't been home.
"Keigo?"
He looked asleep, propped up on one hand, face illumed by the light of his laptop screen. When had he even gotten home?
A single eye opened and he stared at her. She was almost convinced he was doing it in his sleep, until his feathers ruffled in a shivering action and his whole body stirred itself into movement.
"I'm fine," he murmured.
It was his usual reply to her usual question, which, she hadn't actually asked. Depending on the tonal inflection, the words could mean entirely different things on any given day.
"I know." She anxiously played with the feather pendant and his golden eyes focused into small, black pin pricks. Rilo's fingers froze. That—that was his hunter's gaze. Either he was so exhausted he wasn't aware he was using it, or he was hyper-focusing on her fingers fidgeting with the pendant because he was more aware than he appeared.
Slowly she released it. It was probably best not to tempt fate.
"Why was your heart rate spiking…a moment ago…" his eyes didn't lose their clarity.
"I was worried, when I woke to find the bed empty." Was that enough truth to cover her anxiety over silly nightmares. The last thing she wanted was to add any more weight to his shoulders. She was supposed to be here—to support him—not cause more trouble.
He dragged the barstool he was sitting on back, scraping it across the floor. There was a deliberate slowness to his movements. He must have been incredibly quiet when he had returned home, as he'd even changed out of his armour into his favourite silken shirt, and the hideous old track pants she was so tempted to just throw out, or burn—definitely burn.
Keigo wrapped his arms around her and she folded into him. She buried herself into his chest, refusing to cry. He smelt of the outside world, of road tar, street vendor grease and cheap alcohol. She had to wonder just where he'd been in the late hours of the night to pick up such scents.
"I'm sorry, babe." His wings hid them both from the world. "Late shifts can be a bit brutal."
"Don't you ever sleep normally." She mumbled against his shirt.
"Well…" he paused, pulling back. "Okay. You're right. I'm not fine."
Sometimes, she just had to wait for him to say it.
She stared at the hand that held hers. The grasp that was usually so strong, so affirming, was shaking, and not from fatigue. Rilo reached up, clasping his cheek. He hadn't even shaved in a few days. How hadn't she noticed that? Was it just because he'd been coming home so late and they'd kept missing each other.
"I'm here." She assured. "What do you need?"
"I…" he froze. He didn't even seem to breathe.
Rilo gripped his cheek tighter. "Keigo."
He took a sharp inhale. "I want to…make a request of you…but…I need to preface it with something first, and then, you can decide how you feel about it."
Right—that—that sounded ominous, but she was in this, for better or worse—or something—something. She squeezed his hand assuredly.
"Do you want me to make coffee?"
He shook his head.
That made her stomach churn, and a whole lot of bells seemed to just ring in her ears. He did not ever—ever—turn down coffee unless he was in a bad state. Oh—no—what was wrong with him—
Rilo squeaked as she was suddenly hoisted up into his arms. "Keigo?"
He headed for the couches. "Just…stay with me, please, and listen..." He thumped down heavily, making her wince at the sheer force of their combined weights impacting the poor couch.
He cradled her against him and she nursed her head to his shoulder, listening to the soft intakes of his steady breathing.
"I've…got something I need to talk to you about…and it…it isn't pleasant."
He twisted his hand into hers and she held it tightly to her chest.
"Don't feel bad if you react really poorly to it. Just know, I've had some help with it, which is why I can talk about it."
Tears trickled down her cheeks. Keigo brushed at them. "Oh, fuck, babe. I haven't even started."
"Sorry." She choked out. "Just…you've been hurting, haven't you?"
"So much less, since meeting you." He cupped her chin, kissing her. "So, stop fretting about that."
She nodded. "Okay."
Keigo hugged her closer. "This was a long time ago…I was about eight, maybe nine…and my handlers wanted to figure out the proficiency of my wings' regeneration abilities. This…required removing them, forcefully, every day…for several months..."
He kept talking, describing a lived nightmare. The inflections in his voice were like knives, cutting into her skin. She could feel blood dripping across her cheeks, until, she realised of course, it wasn't blood—just tears—only—not just her own.
Keigo raised a hand, rubbing at his eyes. He managed a weak smile, and that he was even attempting to comfort her broke her. She covered her mouth, bolting up and running for the bathroom. He let her go, as if expecting the reaction. Rilo slid on the bathroom tiles, clutching at the side of the toilet as she heaved. There wasn't anything to really vomit out, it was more the sheer physical response that made the whole thing worse. She reached for a towel with a shaking hand, covering her mouth.
"Rilo." Hawks stood at the bathroom entrance.
She looked back at him, leaning on the door frame, his wings draped around his ankles in dismay at his inability to enter. She covered her face, sobs heaving out of her again as she curled up on the cold tiles.
"Rilo, please come out here."
"I hurt you, didn't I, that's why you're telling me this."
"No, darling Lightbulb, you didn't. Now you're being irrational and emotional and jumping to the wrong conclusions." His tone bordered on being aspirated, tinted with amusement.
"I should have been more aware." Rilo curled up tighter. "I'm so sorry."
"Okay. You done self-flagellating now? While you curling up like a bun is always cute, you being ridiculous isn't."
Rilo squeaked as several feathers slid under her and hoisted her up. She was airborne for a moment before she landed in his arms, blinking in shock at the sudden rearrangement.
"Of course you'd think you've done something wrong."
"I touched your wings, and your back."
"So?" He thumped back to the couch. "You always stopped when I asked you too. Which is why I decided we needed this talk."
She frowned.
"I just…I wanted to be honest about it, you know." He collapsed back on the seat. "So that if I ever request you don't touch, you won't wrongly assume it's something you did, but know I'm just having an off day and just need an icepack and bed snuggles." He smiled. "You know, like the other day."
"You liked that?" Rilo whispered.
"I just liked being with you." He brushed at her hair. "Honestly, babe, it's that simple."
He dropped his head back. "I don't mind slowing down with you. I want to just sit on boring park benches, and idly stroll through city streets, maybe visit some old ruins and just be…I donno…really slow."
Rilo nodded. "I'd love that too."
He took her hand and she played with his calloused knuckles. "I'm sorry, for overreacting."
"Nah, I expected it. It's a bit of a shock to the system to hear such things when you're not desensitized to it."
Rilo tucked her knees to her chest. "Now I understand why you really have trouble with the powerplant."
He gave something that sort of sounded like a laugh. "Oh, I'd fucking burn this place down if I could."
"Thank you…for staying here, with me."
"This is your hell, it isn't mine." He kissed her forehead. "Mine was a four-by-four windowless room with the ugliest green walls imaginable." He repressed a shiver.
She covered her face, curling up against him. "Why would they do that to you, you were a child!"
"I was never a child to them. I've never even been human."
He rested his chin on her head, rocking her back and forth. "I could ask the Bureau of Energy and Infrastructure the same question, you know, as to why they'd install un-regulated mod-hancers into a four-year-old child and turn them into a living powerplant, but, I know the answer…"
Rilo squeezed shut her eyes. "I'm not human either."
"Not to those in power, no." He hugged her closer.
"It wasn't just your wings, was it?" Rilo swallowed uneasily.
Keigo kept gently stroking her back in a soothing motion. "No, it wasn't. They put a lot of work into me, and part of that was training me to survive torture methods. They say the body gets used to pain…I think it's the opposite sometimes." He frowned. "I think if you apply to much, the nervous system gets overwhelmed, and all stimuli is processed as pain." He glanced down at her. "Does that make sense?"
Rilo nodded. "You're worried that's happened to you?"
He shrugged. "I donno, but I think about it a lot."
"You think about a lot of things."
He cracked a grin. "I do."
"The people…" she eased out of his arms. "The people who did it, do you see them, at the Commission, when you go in?"
Keigo glanced up at her as he leant on his twitching legs. "I do, sometimes."
Rilo clicked her tongue in frustration, twisting away towards the kitchen and the coffee pot. She had to do something—anything—she could feel the heat festering under her skin, crackling and hissing as the energy pooled. The Commission was based in Musutafu, she had no jurisdiction over the electrical grid there, so she couldn't mess with their operations just to spite them.
"Babe, you're making the air sizzle."
She stared down at the coffee pot in her hand. She'd burnt the handle. Great. That was just great. She looked over at Keigo, still on the couch. His wings had reacted to the static in the air by fluffing up, and he was looking at the dancing lights in the ceiling with impish amusement. Sometimes, he was overly easy to distract with shiny things.
She took an uneasy breath. "How are you…still…functioning?"
It seemed so silly to ask, because sometimes, she knew he wasn't coping. Sometimes he was barely teetering on the edge of just functioning, and she had a sinking suspicion that tonight had been one such night.
"A fuck ton of therapy and an optimistic disposition."
"The Commission let you go to therapy."
"Hell no. All done behind a smoke screen." He kept his focus on the lights. "I was…sixteen, and, as established, a real brat. Tsunagu mentioned in passing that I needed therapy. I took it seriously. I don't think he expected me to take it seriously, but I did."
"Because you think about things."
He gave her his charming hero smile and it warmed her. He was so bright, so dazzling, even in the worst moments, he so casually radiated charm.
"The contact I used to find help for you in U.A comes from back then."
Ah—so that's how he'd known where to take her. She wondered just how hard he'd worked to have a metaphorical feather in every major city across Japan. It had to be exhausting, to keep up to date on everything, all the time. It was no wonder his mind never seemed to rest.
"Thank you…" she ducked her head. "For trusting me and feeling…well…comfortable enough to share."
"If we're comfortable enough to have sex regularly, shouldn't we be comfortable enough to talk about these sorts of things."
She had to roll her eyes. Okay. That really sounded like his type of line of thinking.
"That's true, I suppose."
"There isn't really any supposing about it." He looked at her, golden eyes unblinking. "I want us to be honest, and open, and able to share our lives. I want this to work."
Her chest ached and she quickly rubbed at her watery eyes. "I…I want that, too."
Did that mean she should mention her nightmares. Maybe not now—but—was that just as much about opening up? Would it not be a burden, but, maybe sharing—was that what he was saying.
She frowned at the boiling coffee pot.
"I wish you didn't have to go back; you shouldn't be put through that."
Keigo was leaning over the back of the couch, watching her as she fussed about with the mugs. He wore a tired smile, propping his chin up on a hand lazily. "This is a new side of you. It's very hot, and I mean that both figuratively and literally."
She sighed. "You're a giant goose."
"I am, true, doesn't mean I'm also not extremely turned on by your adorable need to protect me."
Rilo pouted. "Is it a joke to you, that I hate you having to go back there, and face those despicable people." People was too nice of a word, monsters was better.
"No." His eyes clarified sharply. "Sorry, I'm deflecting."
She shook her head. "If anyone had a right to deflect around a topic with humour, it would be you, around this…" Rilo crinkled her brow, halting from pouring out the coffee. Hadn't this entire conversation started because he'd wanted to make a request?
So—
Why was she making coffee?
"What was the request you had?" She looked over at him.
"I want a back massage." He smiled over the top of the couch, his eyes once again hyper-focusing as his wings puffed out. Rilo bit her bottom lip at how adorable he looked in that moment, hiding behind the couch. How could he possibly make such a request look as though it was the most exciting thing ever. Her cheeks burned and she felt the heat leak down her neck, tinting her skin pink.
Keigo poked his nose over the couch, his eyebrows lifting in amusement. "Embarrassed again?"
She set the coffee pot down. They weren't going to drink it.
"Yes," she heaved a heavy breath. "You're trusting me with something…that is…very…" She didn't even know how to put it into words.
"That is the point." He held out a hand, flicking his fingers to summon her. She headed back to him, watching as he rolled off the couch to stretch before twisting his arms around her waist. He pressed his nose against hers. "You are the only person I will ever allow near me in this way."
Rilo buried her head in his chest and he laughed. "Aw, don't be embarrassed." His hands slid beneath her nightie to tightly grip her rear.
"I mean, I am the only person who can do this, right?"
"If anyone else did, I'd electrocute them." She mumbled into his shirt.
"That is oddly satisfying to hear." His grip only tightened.
Rilo scrunched up her nose. Okay, two could play at this game. Rilo grabbed the waist band of his hideous track pants, pulling, and letting it snap back. He stared down at her, his brow lifting slowly as his hands on her arse clenched.
"Really?" he whispered hoarsely.
"If you don't let go of my butt, I'll do it again."
"Want me drop my pants and pin you to the wall?" He tilted his head, the black irises of his eyes narrowing into small dots.
Damnit—he was fixating. Getting him to sleep now was going to be a real quest.
"Okay, now, that's a trick question, and it's unfair." Rilo pouted.
Keigo's grin widened. "It is a bit of a trick question, isn't it?"
"Do you still want a back massage, because I can't give you one like this."
That unfurled his wings, and his hands. Rilo felt her bare feet touch the ground as he released her. Apparently he really did want a massage.
"Fine." He huffed.
Rilo shooed him towards the bed. "Then go take off your shirt, and those ugly things you call pants. I'll go find something I can use as an oil." She headed for the bathroom.
"There is nothing wrong with my track pants," he called back. "You're just jealous they're the one piece of clothing you can't steal."
Oh—maybe that was the issue.
Ducking into the bathroom, she made a beeline for the vanity. She'd noticed something about the shampoo she'd used on his wings in the hotel shower. It hadn't just smelt like coffee, the brand had been something designed specifically for aviators, and seemingly tailored to particular quirks. She'd been curious enough to go hunting for it at the local mall, and found herself overwhelmed by sheer enormity of the capitalism around quirk branding.
It made no sense, how their society functioned. In some ways, quirks had become an integral part of life, and in others, it hadn't seemed to make a difference at all. Like Keigo and his door problem.
She tugged out a bottle of eucalyptus oil from the shelf, and headed back into the main room. Keigo sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off his track pants. She eased down beside him, holding out the bottle.
"Will this react to your feathers?"
Keigo took the bottle, glancing briefly over the back. She heard him murmur several of the ingredients to himself. "No, it shouldn't." He handed it back. "Thanks for not choosing something that smells like cupcakes."
She smiled through his kiss. "There is always next time."
"Oh, fuck off." He flopped onto the bed with a groan, pulling a pillow down to bunch up under his still healing arms.
Maybe he was still sore from the villain fight on Monday? Or—perhaps he was a lot more irritated about them being unable to head to Musutafu for her treatment due to the injuries. They'd have been at the hotel tonight, if everything had been—well—normal wasn't quite the right word for it yet.
She clambered over him, hearing him give a small laugh at her chosen position.
"I'm not too heavy?"
"You're sitting on my arse. Your weight is the least of my problems."
She poured oil onto a hand. "This will probably feel cold at first, so do not throw me off."
He laughed. "No promises."
"Jackass."
Carefully she applied her hands, gingerly starting low and gradually working her way up. She eased forward, reaching his neck and shoulders. Behind her she felt one of his legs lift, hitting her back.
"Sorry," he mumbled into the pillow.
"No, you're fine." Rilo carefully made her way back down his spine. It was like kneading biscuit dough, right? The thought almost made her laugh. Probably not what she should have been thinking about, but the thought was kind of hilarious in the moment. Her gaze shifted to his wing junctions. One thing she'd realised from helping him wash them—or as he'd called it; preening the older feathers—was just how much more area they took up. She was pretty sure he had a completely different bone structure, and muscles, all structured around the extra appendages.
If he was so vastly different, just how different was she. How did her quirk function, and what was the crossover between them that made them combatable, it couldn't have been that she was just an electric type. He'd surely run into dozens of electric's before and never—
"Rilo?"
"Hm?" She stirred.
"What's wrong?" He'd turned to face her, propping himself up on one arm.
She blinked in confusion. "Oh, I'm sorry. I got lost in thought." Rilo brushed back her hair. "You know, how come you don't seem to react to my energy output…instead you absorb it…and…just how…I don't know, how happy I am." She finished in a whisper. "To feel complete."
He settled back down. "I know. It is…something to get used to. We'll work it out."
"We are." She scrunched a hand through his hair.
"Does the quirk make the person, or the person make the quirk." He pondered aloud.
"So, the old chicken before the egg conundrum." Rilo mused.
He chuckled.
"I think about it a lot…"
"Why am I not surprised." She drove her thumbs deeper into knotted muscles. Rilo flipped her hands back, giving a yelp, as his wings suddenly lifted, sending a surge of air through the apartment.
"Whoops. Sorry." His body beneath her had gone tense.
"Did I do something?" Rilo glanced around.
"No, that was me." He assured. "I lost concentration."
Rilo stared up at his wings. They reached the ceiling when stretched out to their full width. "Concentration on what?"
"Your hands are very, very nice." His reply was muffled.
Rilo blushed. She squeezed her lips together, deciding not to tease. Instead, she just moved back to where she'd been kneading.
"Oh, wow…" Rilo whispered, watching the static crackle between her fingers. That was different. She hadn't been releasing any of her energy before. "Keigo…"
"What?" His wings slowly lowered, and she tensed her hands, causing him to halt the action. The muscles beneath her fingers remained tense, and once again, the crackling energy flickered down her arms.
"I…sorry…I…I feel like I'm touching an idling engine."
He chuckled. "One way to put it."
Gradually his muscles loosened as his wings settled once more, becoming like pools of liquid fire over the bed, the feathers rippling every so often in a sparkling glimmer against her own light.
"Thank you, for doing this." He said. "It's probably a bit intimating for you."
"No, I'm really glad you feel comfortable to trust me, Keigo." She held back her tears, not wanting to smear oil all over her face when wiping them away. They still leaked out anyway, and she dabbed at her cheeks with her arm.
"Babe, are you crying."
"No." She squeaked. "Maybe. But it's nothing."
"Okay."
"Keigo…"
"Hm."
"Someday, can we…go out in public and just…hold hands."
He raised his head and lifted a hand, giving a small wave with two fingers. "Come down here for a sec."
Rilo slinked herself over his back, dropping her head down beside his.
"Yes?"
Keigo pressed his cheek to hers. "I love you."
Rilo closed her eyes. He said it often. Undoubtedly more than he needed too. He said it aloud, just as much as he did in his actions, and slowly but surely, she was beginning to piece together that it might have been just as much for his benefit as it was for hers. He was clarifying the words into solid existence, again—and again—like chipping them into stone. Soon, the absence of them in her life would echo if she never heard them.
The thought made her chest ache.
"Just, give me time to figure out where all the pieces are on our game board. I don't want to move to soon and put us both in danger."
She nodded. "I understand."
"And I understand too. I'm sorry we're stuck in some strange no-mans-land. It won't be forever. I have every intention of someday showing you off. The fun we'll have on the hero circuit will be truly marvellous."
Rilo's felt her skin heat. She covered her face, momentarily forgetting the oil staining her hands. It didn't matter, not when he said such things.
"Oh my gosh, Keigo."
"Oh, come now, don't tell me there isn't a little part of you that wants to go out there and let the world know that you fuck Hawks regularly." He was trying very hard not to laugh.
Rilo huffed, folding her arms as she sat back. Her cheeks were on fire, and the heat had bled almost down her belly button. It was a good thing he wasn't facing her, he'd have been delighted at the reaction in her glassy skin. "Now you're just being rude, and mean!"
"Yeah, but I am right." His feathers puffed with happiness.
"Okay. Yes, fine. You're right. It would be really nice to stop reading my trashy hero magazines and finding articles about your scandalous affairs every weekend."
Now he was actually laughing and she had to squeeze her legs to keep herself from falling off. Keigo wrapped his linin covered arms over his head, burying deeper into the pillow under him to recover his breath.
"I'll have to read some of these stories someday, they sound like great fiction. I'd love to know what I get up too in all this spare time I have."
Rilo pushed him down again, starting on his scarred shoulders.
"Your trips to Musutafu have been noticed."
"Ah, I guess that explains the weekend scandalous affairs." Keigo tipped his head to one side. He heaved a heavy sigh that she felt vibrate through his back. "I'm sorry, Rilo. I don't want you to feel like I'm purposely keeping you a secret, like…well…your entire existence has been."
She pressed herself against his back. "It's my fault. I'm just being impatient."
"No, babe, you're allowed to feel these things, and you're allowed to tell me. Even if I can't fix it, or change it right now, at least it's in the open."
She smiled against his shoulder. "Thank you."
His wings shifted beneath her.
"Sorry, am I heavy." She lifted off him.
"No, actually, I was appreciating your position and now I'm sad you moved."
She pinched his ears and he twisted his head away from her. "Hey, hey, I'm an innocent captive here."
"Innocent is not how I would ever describe you, you optimistic goose." Rilo ducked her hands beneath his wings.
"What brought on your worries, was it just the tabloids?" he asked.
Rilo worked around his wing junctions. She paused, glancing behind at his tapping feet jostling the bed. He was probably doing that to stem off movements in his wings. It was fascinating, how he always seemed to need to move something.
"Silly tabloids are just that, silly tabloids." Rilo pouted. "Oh…I donno…maybe this whole week, I guess." She murmured. "We've been missing each other, and I'm not really able to help you, being…stuck in this tower."
"Babe, coming home to you is everything," he breathed out. "And, I guess you don't notice me, I'm sorry about that. I just don't want to wake you…so…I suppose it feels like I haven't been here."
"No, no, that's not what I'm saying." She quickly assured. "I mean…gah…so…sex is nice, yes."
"Yes, it is." He laughed.
"But doesn't this feel just as intimate, if not more so, and, wouldn't a walk along the beach again be just as nice."
"Actually, it really would." He sighed. "Or a flight to catch the sunset over the mountains."
Smoothing out his wings, Rilo gave a small giggle. "We'll have to make a list."
"It'll be a long list, there is a fuck ton of things I want to do with you…and too you."
"Oie." She flicked one of his ears. "Behave."
He heaved a mocked sigh. "Fine. I'll be boring."
Their conversation faded to silence, until it was just the ambience of the late night that filled the apartment. Peaceful, Rilo decided. It was peaceful, in their tiny little bubble.
"Keigo?" Rilo whispered.
He didn't stir. His breathing had steadied out to a slow and even beat.
Finally—
He was asleep.
Ohhhh—
He was asleep!
She felt the oddest sense of victory.
Rilo glanced at his wings, draped over the edges of the bed. That was an awkward position for them, and he'd probably wake up complaining. Rilo brushed back her hair, and oil seemed to smear everywhere. Right—now—all she had to do was just move herself without waking him.
Hm—
She took a soft breath and slowly raised a leg, sweeping it up and over, and she rolled off the bed, landing with a soft thud. Okay. Right. That hadn't gone as planned. She jerked up, staring at Keigo in a panic. He was still completely out.
She relaxed, melting onto the floor.
Thank goodness.
Lying on the cold floor, Rilo stared at his wing, contemplating what she was supposed to do with it. She couldn't leave it in the position it was in, but she also highly doubted she was strong enough to shift the whole thing onto the bed to be tucked neatly away. She made a duck face, squishing her cheeks together in frustration. With a huff she rolled onto her knees and measured the height of the bed to the nearby ottoman. Okay. Kind of the same height. That'd do.
Narrowing her glare at Keigo she willed him to remain asleep, before she lifted the wing, only to almost end up back on the floor.
It was a lot heavier than she'd expected. Did that mean that most of the time he was compensating for the weight and not fully relaxing. Oh—gosh—that would have been exhausting.
With a deep breath, she gave it another attempt. Lifting the appendage and quickly dragging the ottoman over with her foot to let the wind rest on the furniture piece instead of drape uncomfortably on the ground.
"Oh, okay, that's much better." Rilo's hands went to her hips, nodding at her own genius. She headed for the bathroom, cleaning her slippery, oily hands. Her silken nightie was ruined, and Keigo wasn't going to be overly amused by that come the morning, since it meant she'd steal more of his shirts.
"Should have taken it off." She slipped out of it and quickly darted back to the safety of the sheer curtains around the bed.
Rilo breathed a sigh of relief, seeing him still fast asleep. With deliberate slowness she snuck her way beneath the covers, shuffling up beside him to tuck herself beneath his wing. Resting her head in the curve of his neck, she closed her eyes.
When next she opened them, she found herself staring into his golden gaze.
"Good morning," he murmured.
00000
If anyone asked, Bubbles would have said that Hawks was a man of average build, who was of average height, and that was about all that was average about him. He was naturally optimistic behind his sarcastic, witty and sometimes indifferent façade. It wasn't forced optimism either. It was a genuine belief that he could truthfully make the world a better place if he applied himself, sometimes she had to wonder if it was the only thing he clung to—like a lifeline of hope. Then she'd wonder—did she really even know that much about her boss at all—
She didn't—
Not really—
He insisted he was mundane and boring, and had utterly nothing interesting about himself for anyone to latch onto.
Naturally, the media thought otherwise.
His smile was seemingly natural, but she never did feel as though it reached his eyes when he wore it for the cameras. Not once, in all the years she'd worked for him, had she felt she'd ever seen a real smile from him—
Optimism was one thing, but to smile from the soul was another.
However, the axis of the world felt like it had shifted recently.
This past month, she'd been catching glimpses, here and there, of what she could only describe as a true smile. It was usually when he was talking on his mobile, beneath a streetlamp, even in the middle of the day, or if he was in his office, quickly sneaking in a text when he thought she wasn't looking. He'd have his knees hooked up under his chin, all rolled into a ball in his office chair, with his fingers moving at rapid pace over his mobile.
That thing was attached to him, and he was attached to it.
It probably had better security on it than the entire agency.
Gah, that thought alone gave her the chills. All the admin work he did on his ancient laptop, that was practically from the dawn of civilization itself, lay around in the open, but his mobile phone was somehow important enough to warrant five star treatment.
Bubbles huffed in frustration. She reached up, grabbing the barbell above her where she lay. She'd come into the gym to try and work off all the late night shifts she'd rostered herself and Hawks onto, but her workout had, thus far, not been going great.
She was just not feeling the buzz.
Lifting the barbell she slowly started her reps, not really concentrating, her mind lost somewhere between accounting fees for Medusa's latest restock, and the unfiled reports from the several different police districts around Funuka. That was her mistake, the lack of concentration. She was halfway down a rep, when she realised in a sudden panic that her arms couldn't lift the barbell—
Wait—
How—
Her hands twisted their grip. She made to throw the barbell to one side, to dump the weights immediately before she lost full control and crushed herself, only for the weight to suddenly decrease in her hands.
"Bubbles…" Hawks peered down at her as he held the barbell in a single hand, as if it weighed nothing. "How many times have I told you not to use the bench-press without one of us spotting you."
"Er. Several times," she mumbled shamefully.
"Then stop fucking around."
"Everyone was busy," Bubbles pouted.
"Then use something else in the gym." He clanked the weights down on their rack. "Or don't stack the weights beyond your capacity, you little muffin."
She flopped back on the bench in frustration. "I won't get any better if I don't push past my limit."
"You won't get any better if you die by dropping a barbell on yourself either." He spread his hands. "Here lieth Bubbles, she t'as an idiot. Never listened to her boss. Shall be missed for her admin skills only."
Bubbles stuck out her tongue. He waggled a finger at her.
"How long have you been in here?" Bubbles asked.
"About forty minutes." Hawks commented over his shoulder.
"I didn't even notice you come in." She frowned. "You didn't make a noise."
"I was contemplating if you were asleep on the bench." Hawks moved back in position at the squat rack. "So I was being extra quiet."
"For forty minutes."
His wings dropped around his legs, the magnificent appendages going loose as he took the weights on his shoulders. "You wouldn't be the first one to take a nap in here. I caught Twin One curled up by the dumbbell rack the other day, and Medusa pretends to work out, but he actually doesn't do anything other than listen to podcasts and hog my weights."
Maybe she had been napping and that's why she hadn't heard him. It'd been a long week of night shifts. Bubbles sighed, she watched Hawks smoothly run through his reps.
"You do that so easily." She pouted.
"Want to try?" He offered.
"I'd break my back."
"Nah, you're a lot better than you think. Come on." He removed several weights, sending them back to the weight station with a few feathers. That alone was always impressive, but she supposed he could carry fully grown humans with them, so what was a few twenty-kilogram weights.
She scrunched up her nose before huffing. "Okay, fine." She bounced over to him. "But you better catch me if I mess up."
"Come on, Bubbles, when have I ever let you fall." He smiled, and it didn't reach his eyes. She knew she could trust him. Not just here, in the agency, or their in-house gym, or on the job—but even if she had a personal issue, if she made it known, he'd have moved the earth to help, because that was the type of hero he was. She struggled the finish her last rep and he lifted the bar off her shoulders, freeing her. Bubbles used him as a ladder, heaving herself to her feet.
"See, I can't."
"No, you did." He leant over the bar. "That's why you have a spotter."
"You don't." She narrowed her gaze, joining him to lean lazily on the rack.
"Yeah, well, I am my own spotter. My quirk comes in handy for the most random things." He tipped his head to one side and Bubbles watched as their water bottles floated up to them, carried by two feathers.
Hawks held out his hand, catching his buzzing mobile as another feather whizzed it past. She caught the briefest sight of the name on the call-screen before he answered.
Lightbulb.
Wait—lightbulb?
Bubbles chest tightened. She sipped her water.
Why was that familiar?
"Hey, hey, hey." Hawks leant over the bar in a lethargic flop, finally giving that smile that reached the edges of his eyes. He seemed to glow. "Yeah. I'm still at work. I needed to get an hour in at the gym." He swung a foot back and forth. "Yep, I got the text message. I'll grab them on the way home. Can't promise I'll get exactly what you need though, female period products weren't exactly next to how to kill people with a pencil, you know."
Bubbles could hear laughter through the mobile.
"Though, it does explain your mood last week. Ah, true, I don't have that excuse. Oie, don't be mean. I just have a fucked-up sleep rhythm, at least your body is designed around your hormones, mine just says fuck it and fails."
His laughter was so full. Whatever had just been said, had made him the happiest she'd ever seen him.
"Well, I am so incredibly sorry I didn't get you pregnant, babe. We'll just have to keep trying." He cocked his head. "Yes, that is a sentence I didn't think I'd be saying a month ago. Hm…" he glanced at his watch. "Give me about two hours, I've got to shower. Or do you need your supplies like, right now, now?"
He paused. "Okay. No. No. I don't mind. Requests for dinner?"
Bubbles sipped her water again as Hawks frowned. "Well, that sucks. I think Med has nausea pills. I'll raid his office before I head home. You sure you don't want me to come now? Okay, okay. I get it, you're not dying. I love you."
That's how he ended the conversation. With words she never would have imagined him saying. She was still trying to process them as he tucked his mobile away. He hadn't moved away from her. He'd allowed her to overhear the conversation.
Bubbles frowned.
Hawks ducked under the bar, pulling off the weights. He might not have been tidy about his office, but he did keep a tidy gym, which had always amused Bubbles to no end. It really showed how he compartmentalized the importance of things in his mind. Anything that involved movement was important, anything that involved sitting wasn't.
"Um. Hawks?"
"Hm." He moved to the weight station, stacking the weights back into their slots.
"Who…" she breathed in deeply.
Hawks looked back at her, an eyebrow raised.
"Sorry, Bubbles, didn't quite catch that. Was there a question in there?"
She pouted. He knew exactly what she was trying to ask, but he was being an arse about it. "Who was that? Who where you talking too? Who didn't you get pregnant?" Oh my gosh, she'd literally said that last part.
He took out his mobile again, fiddling with it for a moment before heading back to her and holding it out. He joined her on the bar, leaning over it with all the casual boredom of a long day. Bubbles took his mobile, probably his most sacred possession, and stared at the photo on the screen.
It was of a smiling young woman, sitting on a rooftop railing, the twilight igniting the city skyline behind her in bright indigo and orange hues. Her loose silver hair had been picked up by a gust of wind, and she could have sworn it looked like a silken scarf frolicking in the breeze.
Lightbulb. Bubbles breathed out. Of course. Lightbulb was the locker-room slang for a female electric type quirk, but she'd never felt that it resonated so appropriately until now. Fragile skin truly looked like breakable glass, that if dashed even lightly against something, her whole body would shatter into a million little pieces and the glow she was radiating out into the twilight would blink out.
"That is the young woman I am in a relationship with. She's who I was talking too. I didn't get her pregnant." Hawks towelled himself off idly, as if the words coming out of his mouth, and the photo he'd handed her on his mobile wasn't the biggest bombshell to hit her life since she'd signed up with the agency.
"Lightbulb." Bubbles whispered. "Oh my god. You meant it figuratively."
"That I was fucking an electric type, yes, Bubbles. I meant it figuratively." He flicked her forehead. "Gods, that fancy school you went to did you no favours."
She sucked in a sharp breath. "Well excuse me for being a sweet, innocent, sheltered lady and not understanding gross boy locker room jargon."
He rolled his eyes. "Obviously you've never overheard women talking about men."
"Oh, and you have." She huffed.
"I was sixteen when I started work at the police station, Bubbles. You'd be surprised at what people say when they forget a brat is around." He leant back on the bar beside her. "And I wouldn't keep flicking through my phones' galley, unless you're interested in our nudes."
She squeaked, her blue cheeks turning pink. "You don't."
"We do."
Bubbles' felt her hair foam up. "Why?"
Hawks shrugged, tipping his head to one side. "Well, I go away a lot. I get lonely. Rilo thought it was a good compromise to my apparent clinginess." His feathers puffed. "Fucking never thought I'd be clingy, but, apparently I am."
"Rilo?"
"Her name isn't actually Lightbulb."
"It does suit her though." Bubbles looked at a photo of them both, perched on top of an antenna. "How do you take these?"
"Like I said, my quirk has the weirdest uses." Hawks smiled. "Rilo likes making scrap books, gives her something to do, otherwise she gets a bit stir crazy." He took the phone back. "We're currently trying to make a large collage of sunset photos to go on the backwall of the apartment."
He shrugged. "It's just something random to do."
"Hawks…I…" This—this was the piece she'd been missing that made his recent behaviour make sense. Gosh, she felt so dense. She gasped, grabbing his arm in horror. "Is…is this going public? Is that why you're telling me! Are you trying to soften me up before I see this in the news tomorrow."
"No, Bubbles."
Bubbles melted in relief, her foaming hair dripping around her ankles. "Oh, thank goodness."
He flipped his towel over her head. "You're getting my gym wet."
"Sorry, sorry." She giggled hysterically, covering her face. "I just can't think of anything worse than having to regulate a media storm right now."
His hand settled on her head. "I know, but, at some point. It will happen." He sighed. "And it will have to be dealt with, unfortunately."
"Is that why you're telling me?" She asked.
Hawks shook his head. "No, I'd have rather kept the whole thing secret and just continued to mess with you."
"Oh, gee, thanks."
"But…the other night…I had a rather awful thought." Hawks dropped his head to one side. He held out his still bandaged arms. "What if something happened to me, and I couldn't contact Rilo. She'd be all alone, and she wouldn't know anything, and even if she came to the agency, none of you know anything about her…"
She watched his wings tense up, as if he was living the entire situation in his mind.
"We'd presume the worst," Bubbles shook her head. "And would be unlikely to believe her."
"Right." He sighed. "So, in preparation for the worst-case scenario, I need you all to know. I don't want you to know, but I need to you know."
Why didn't he want them to know?
"And the double night shifts, this past week, that you rostered me on for, they were really rough on both of us. I can probably do two nights in a row, but not a whole week again." He rubbed at his neck, looking down at her. "I'm not just me anymore, Bubbles. I'm really having to work at thinking about myself as an extension, and it's hard to get used to."
In all the years she'd ever worked with him, that was probably the most honest she'd ever heard him be.
"This is serious…isn't it…" she asked.
"More than you can possibly imagine." He whispered.
Her skin chilled at the way his eyes focused on something far away, beyond even her comprehension. Right. So, this conversation just got dark. It was time to move it along.
She bumped him playfully, "I am just so relieved you're not dating Mt. Lady."
He blanched. "What? No. Oh my god, no."
Bubbles laughed.
"How could you even think that?" His wings got animated when he was irritated, and she always thought it was so very, very telling that he only allowed them freedom to show his emotions when he in safe havens. She'd have to remember the gym was one, and his office wasn't.
He must have really hated his office.
Her hands went to her hips. "Well, what was I supposed to think?"
"Anything other than that."
He snatched up his gym bag, making a beeline for the showers.
Bubbles bounced after him. Now it was time for her fun to begin. Her revenge for the month of obliviousness would start now.
"So, when can I meet Lightbulb?"
"Nope."
"Please!"
"Nope."
"But Hawks!"