Uhhhh, man, I have not posted writing in a while… Sorry about that! I am depressed. Which is homophobic considering it’s Pride month /lhj - I’m working on things, however. Very slowly. At a snails pace….
On the bright side - here’s a snippet from a side fic I’m working on called Sweet Stargazer! It’s a pre-canon hippoworm fic that explores Warren and Ron (Hypno) meeting way earlier and falling for each other (:
Warren is 21 and Ron is 19 in this fic - thought y’all should know since it becomes plot relevant.
Enjoy!
The Shell station convenience store was alight with a yellow glow. Two cars, a pick-up truck and a dented van, were parked outside, one parked far better than the other in the only handicap space, as a pale gold moon hung in the evening sky. It was far too late into the night for anyone to possibly be up, the clock hands reaching several tics past one. And yet…
The distant drone of overheated fluorescent bulbs barely registered with the only two patrons of the establishment as they moved from aisle to aisle. One of which had exited the bathroom, wiping his eyes, muttering to himself before proceeding to mill about. Both patrons were in their own little worlds, not minding the other as they shuffled tiredly around the other, an absent-minded passing of ships in the night.
Ron Pewhairangi whistled silently to himself as he glanced disinterestedly at packets of crisps, taking more note of the tall blonde an aisle over than the snacks themselves. He cocked his head as his eyes followed the fellow between a gap in the shelves, discreetly looking the guy over.
The fellow had medium length hair that spilled down his face, covering one eye before being swept aside. It appeared to be dyed blonde, his brown roots on display when he’d so carefully bend to inspect the lower shelves. His legs tapping the linoleum floor of the shop sounded heavy, a light clack most would expect from marble or metal. He wore full length grey sweatpants that ended at his ankles, a beat-up pair of white sneakers, and a light blue hoodie with the hood down. His hands were jammed firmly in the middle pocket, with one making the occasional appearance to flick through the sugary selection. His fingernails were painted aquamarine, and his eyes were a hazel green, skin around them slightly puffy as if he’d been crying. Plenty of cool tones about him but he seemed just a little miffed to match, his teeth briefly on display with shiny braces as he muttered curses about something not being able to fit through the door and having to walk instead.
Ron pretended not to be eyeing the guy as he heard him shuffle over to the next aisle, coming his way with a selection in hand. He kept his head down, sights set on the floor below in an attempt to draw less attention to himself. And for a moment it seemed to work.
Well that was until the taller of the two bumped into the shorter one just a touch too roughly as he missed his step, dropping his stuff before righting himself on a nearby shelf.
“Apologies for the spill. Allow me to help.” Ron’s accented voice cut through the silence, catching the tall fellow’s attention.
Warren Thaddius Smith looked down at the person before him, the same guy he’d seen wandering around and perusing the crisps disinterestedly, the one who was wandering around when he stumbled in and rushed into the bathroom with his head down. That guy. It was just passing glances before, but to get a closer look, oh boy, was this guy pretty.
Short black hair curling into haphazard waves, light brown eyes that shimmered, dark olive skin, a gold hoop earring clipped to one ear, and the beginnings of a mustache. He was on the heavier side, wearing a black hoodie with Houdini’s visage gracing the back, the front decorated with fine gold lettering that said ‘now you see me” on the front and ‘now you don’t!’ on the back with sparkles around the text, also wearing blue jeans and sneakers. The guy’s buck teeth were prominent as he smiled, passing his fellow patron his things back, his black chipped nail polish catching in the grainy light.
“Oh, uh, thanks.” Warren looked away, trying not to stare.
“Least I could do, Warren.”
His attention snapped back to the guy in front of him, still puzzled by the accent he couldn’t quite place. Warren hadn’t introduced himself, had he? He searched his mind for a hint, doubting his memory.
“How do you know my name?” Warren raised an eyebrow, accessing the situation. “Have we met before?”
The fellow before him snickered before pulling out a wrist watch, his wrist watch, his name engraved on the inside on the sterling silver back.
“Nah, mate.” He passed Warren his watch back, who snapped it up in confusion. “Let’s make things even. You can call me Ron.”
Warren shoved his watch into his hoodie pocket, not sure if he should be angry or impressed. The night was already strange enough without getting pseudo-robbed. He regarded the pretty criminal with weary eyes.
“Why’d you steal my watch, Ron?”
“That’s what we in the business call ‘sleight of hand’. Couldn’t resist an opportunity to show off, y’know?” Ron winked, ready to pull out a deck of cards before deciding to dial it back a bit. This Warren fellow seemed nonplussed. Tough crowd.
