a fic about HotGuy, and his pathetic little (MASSIVE) crush on an ordinary guy, an ordinary guy who kind of couldn’t give less of a shit if he tried.
Scar’s face smashed against the pavement, his visor splintering against his head and pinching the bridge of his nose as momentum carried him rolling forward, toppling like a ragdoll across the top of the small apartment building. He groaned, disoriented as he finally landed on his back, but CuteGuy’s boot against his stomach forcibly pushed the noise out, leaving Scar wheezing.
“You’re off your game today, HotGuy,” CuteGuy sneered, sharp teeth visible just below his mask, though it wasn’t a shocking thing, sharp teeth, practically everyone had some kind of fangs, and really, it was a bit boring; if Scar was meant to be intimidated, he certainly wasn’t, “Something the matter?” CuteGuy cut through his thoughts, which was rather rude, Scar wasn’t done thinking badly about him yet, but, “We all have bad days. How about you take a day off, get some rest, nap a bit, and leave me alone for once, hm?” Cuteguy pushed again against Scar’s stomach, using more force, enough to shove his entire body back. Scar was only aware of how close he was to the edge of the building when his head hung over the side, half limp. Hm. Not great.
Scar raised his hands, shaky from the strain, “Well, since you asked, I guess, yeah, I’m not really feeling too great. I dunno. It’s just hard to be adored and famous all the time, you know? Life’s starting to feel less like fun and more like business, brand deals, work, work, work. I just feel like I don’t have many friends, y’know? Real friends, god forbid, human friends. Hardly a human even lives in this dumb city anymore, too dangerous, too many assholes with wings enacting petty revenge on their landlords from like ten years ago. I-”
“Shut up, I don’t care.”
“You asked! And while we’re on the subject of things you did, I was minding my own business up here before you attacked me! You can’t tell me to leave you alone if you started it!” Scar would have said more, but CuteGuy pressed his boot harder into his stomach, almost stomping, just without the wind up.
“You were looking for me. Thought I’d just send you home on my terms before you decided to become a problem.”
Scar’s head lolled a bit more off the edge of the building, eyes squeezed shut, “I’m not always looking for trouble,” he wheezed, managing to open his eyes just in time to catch a sight of what he’d actually been looking for tonight, just a glance being enough to restore the air back into his lungs. Not tearing his eyes away, he pushed against CuteGuy’s leg, admittedly, a little pathetically, but his priorities were elsewhere, “Pause, pause. Off.”
“Pause?” CuteGuy squawked, bird-like as he tended to get when he was particularly surprised, “What do you mean pause, this isn’t a game you-” HotGuy gathered all the strength he had left tonight to grip CuteGuy’s boot, heaving up and unbalancing him while he was distracted, then rolling away and stumbling to his feet.
“I have to go! Emergency! We wrap this up tomorrow?” Scar hurried over to where he’d dropped his bow when CuteGuy ambushed him, then back to the building’s edge, bouncing in place on his andriod legs.
CuteGuy hissed, and Scar wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen CuteGuy’s feathers so puffed out; even the bits of his face that weren’t covered by a mask were beet-red, “You are not seriously just going to leave! I’m not done with you!” CuteGuy lunged forward, but Scar’s arrow was nocked just as fast, the shot just barely grazing one of CuteGuy’s wings as he awkwardly sidestepped to avoid it. Scar was over the edge before CuteGuy could recover, rolling as he hit the pavement, then running down the street.
The civilian didn’t seem to hear him coming, or any of the other commotion for that matter, clearly oblivious to the danger so close by. It was a good thing that CuteGuy had never been slighted by this particular civilian, or he’d surely be dead by now, walking so carelessly by himself by night. Thank goodness HotGuy was here!
“Cub! Cub!” Scar called, still running, but Cub did not respond, the wires of his earbuds dangling loosely from his ears. Ah. Classic. Cub was fiddling with his phone, brows furrowed as he held it up toward a street sign- taking a picture, maybe?
“Hello! Sir!” Scar called as he got closer, and mercifully, Cub seemed to hear, taking out one of his earbuds and turning around. “Hello!” Scar said again, feeling his heart flutter, though, now was not the time.
Cub looked a little nervous; reasonable, anyone might be intimidated by a superhero running their way. “Hey, man, what’s up?” ‘Man’ Oh, Scar adored how Cub addressed him, so casual, so familiar. It was exciting to be ‘man,’ like he was a friend, oh, could they be friends?
“Hello there! I thought I should warn you, there is a very angry supervillain out and about right now, so we should probably be running in the other direction!” Scar kept a light tone as not to frighten Cub, though the other’s demeanor hardly changed.
“Oh, which one?”
Scar couldn’t help but stumble over his feet and words in his surprise at that question, which was apparently more emotion than Cub felt at being told he could be dead in the next couple minutes if they weren’t careful (though, of course, Scar would never allow this to happen). “Uhm- CuteGuy.”
“CuteGuy..” Cub furrowed his brow in thought, a bit of a distractingly adorable look if Scar was being honest.. hm.. something was different about Cub’s face today. Actually, something was definitely off. Had he gotten a haircut? Scar jumped when Cub spoke again, “Don’t think I’ve wronged any short blonde avians in the past week. I tend to try not to, so I think I’ll be alright.” Cub kept walking. Scar gaped.
“I- well I- I mean CuteGuy doesn’t exactly like me very much, so we may still have a bit of a problem.” Scar had to jog to catch up, unable to hide the strain in his voice.
“Oh man, well, good luck then. Sorry ‘bout that,” Cub glanced back, and didn’t look entirely too thrilled to see Scar still following him, which, maybe that was fair. Though, Cub never looked too incredibly thrilled about anything most of the time; Scar had only seen him smile once. It was a delightful thing, Cub’s smile, one Scar was sure he’d never forget. Like, come on, it’s not every day you see someone with flat teeth-
“Hey, could you read that street sign for me?”
Scar blinked, too stunned to do much else but follow Cub’s gaze, “Uh, that's Wright Street.”
“Thanks, man,” Cub said, and then he just kept walking, kept walking like there wasn’t a supervillain just a block away, probably seconds away from being very rude and interrupting all this chemistry!
“Cub,” Scar stressed, “I just think maybe-” but Scar stopped when Cub startled, whipping around to face him with wide eyes.
“Shit- I didn’t- I don’t have my glasses, I dropped them on the,” Cub floundered, and Scar threw up his hands in a placating motion, surprised by the sudden change. Cub squinted, looking a little distressed, and Scar wanted nothing more than to take it all away.
“It’s okay! I don’t mind reading the street signs!”
“I-” Cub struggled, and with him, Scar’s heart ached, “What’s your name, again?” Oh. Oh. Scar stopped short, stuck somewhere between shock and confusion. Was- Was he not in costume or something? Scar looked stupidly at his own clothes, dumbfounded. How bad was Cub’s eyesight?
“I’m HotGuy.”
Cub stared. Scar stared back.
“Oh. That makes sense.” Cub kept walking. Scar struggled to feel normal about that. Well, maybe he was just embarrassed! Everyone dealt with emotions in different ways, and Cub tended to deal with them by not emoting at all! Nothing wrong with that! Sure, they had only met twice, but Scar had been properly embarrassed not recognizing the faces of fans who had spoken with him before- he couldn’t imagine how Cub must be feeling now, especially with HotGuy being as recognizable as he was (even a little bit blurry).
“It’s nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about at all! My face is plastered just about everywhere, but I still look different in person I’m sure, and it's dark out, and you don’t have your glasses, of course.”
“Oh, not that, I was thinking of the CuteGuy thing,” Cub didn’t even look back as he spoke, not harsh per se, but extremely.. Honest. “Lots of people look kinda like you, all colorful and dressed up. I thought you might be cosplaying or something.”
Scar struggled to keep his smile, unable to do much else but stare. Cub wasn’t looking at him anyway. “..Do they now?”
“Yeah.” Cub continued on. Scar was beginning to suspect they did not live in the same city. Maybe not even in the same world. Cub was starting to get a little far, and once Scar remembered to stop gaping, he had to jog again to catch up. Cub seemed a little more confused by his presence, fiddling with his earbuds again (surely he hadn’t turned his music back on, right?) before turning, “You said CuteGuy was close, right? Are you going to.. fight.. him?”
“Oh!” Scar jumped on his toes, “No, probably not again. At least not right now, I hope. I’m guessing if he was going to he already would have- well, actually, I beat him so badly he’s probably still licking his wounds, like, metaphorically. I kind of embarrassed him, there was a crowd and everything.”
“A crowd?” Cub sounded surprised- no, amused when he turned his head. He had a little smile on his face, gosh, what Scar would give just to be able to look at that forever. “Just a block away, right? On this empty, quiet road?” Cub stopped walking, and Scar was so thrilled to have his attention, it took a couple extra moments to process the words he was saying.
“Ah-” Scar felt his face heat up. He ran a hand through his hair, hoping to hide his embarrassment, “Small crowd. Quiet crowd. I mean, you know CuteGuy, if he feels slighted by anyone, he’ll probably get his friend Poultry Man to egg all their houses or something.”
“Oh yeah, petty guy.”
“Extremely so!” Scar lit up, though Cub still didn’t look like he believed a word Scar said. Scar pursed his lips momentarily before continuing, “You know, you could say my glasses are broken too! We’re like, totally on the same page right now. CuteGuy put up quite the fight, well, a little bit. He didn’t put up that much of a fight, but he did smash my visor. Again. Seriously, someone needs to figure out his identity so I can start sending him my bills, I hate replacing stuff.”
Cub cocked his head to the side, and even without the glasses, Scar felt like he was looking right through him. It was vulnerable, in a magical kind of way. “Can I see it?”
Scar startled, missing the question. “What?”
“Can I see your visor? The place I work manufactures this kind of stuff, I might be able to hook you up for something a bit cheaper.”
“I-I can’t just take off my visor, Cub, you’d see my face. Secret identities, you know how it is.”
“I can’t see anything right now. If it makes you uncomfortable, you could just cover your face with your hands or turn around. Doesn’t really matter to me. I’m not going to steal a look; I couldn’t care less about superhero stuff. It’d be nice if you came by, bought something, then let my manager know who referred you though.”
“I- ah- Well of course! But I-” shouldn’t, was the word he meant to say, and couldn’t would have been even more accurate. Scar could not take off his visor, no matter how many cracks it had. It would be completely irresponsible! And for all he knew, CuteGuy was still around- everyone knew avians had impeccable eyesight. But on the other hand… Cub, Cub removing his visor. His hands in Scar’s hair, undoing the mask, gentle and kind and not sharp, goodness, someone without claws touching his face, peeling back the mask and (not really) seeing him. Scar felt himself melt into that non-existent touch. “Be my guest, then.” He closed his eyes. … He opened his eyes. Cub was staring at him.
“Are you going to take it off?”
“Ah-” Again, Scar felt his face heat up, and suddenly, he wanted much less to remove his visor, “Sorry, just nervous! Never done this before, haha!”
“I can cover my eyes if you-”
“Yes. Do that.” Scar nearly hissed, struggling to contain his own embarrassment. Cub didn’t hesitate, his expression almost crushingly neutral as he closed his eyes, then turned around. Scar bit his lip. The mask wasn’t easy to remove- it was important it stayed on during a fight, so despite doing this thousands of times, Scar still had to fiddle with it to get it off, practically shoving the thing into Cub’s arms so he could properly cover his face, feeling stupid as he cowered with his hands over his eyes. If Cub was paying him any mind, he didn’t know.
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Cub mused, “It’s only the screen that’s shattered; the frame is a little beaten up, but still sturdy. Shouldn’t need replacing, but I guess you’d know better than I would. You want another orange one? Come by after 12:00 tomorrow and I’ll have it ready for you to pick up?” Scar felt the mask bump against his hands, and when he snuck a peek through his fingers, he saw Cub’s eyes were firmly shut. The gesture, benign as it was, made his heart flutter.
“Blue works too. As long as it matches.” Scar took the mask, quickly refastening it to his face. God that was stupid. Why had he done that. He already had suppliers, why did his brain have to be so dumb? “Thanks,” he choked out, “It’s back on.”
Cub opened his eyes, though they didn’t focus much; damn, he really must have awful eyesight- whatever. Fine. But he’d get to see Cub again! He’d have a real excuse, oh, maybe this was worth it. Wait a minute!
“Could I get your number?” Scar felt himself blurt out the words, flustered enough for the extra bit of awkwardness to embarrass him further, “For- ah- directions.” He tried to smile. Cub might have smiled back in his own way; which is to say, not actually smiling at all or making any sort of expression that might ease Scar’s nerves.
“Wouldn’t it just be easier if I gave you the address?” Genuine. Honest. Fucking brutal.
Scar pursed his lips, an expression Cub almost certainly didn’t see. “Yup. Probably.” Hopefully, tomorrow Cub would have another pair of glasses, so at the very least if he wasn’t persuaded by an extraordinarily attractive man desperately vying for his attention, he might just take pity on him. Though this didn’t quite feel like rejection, more just misunderstanding- Scar still had a chance here. Cub gave him the address and Scar wrote it down, still unable to squash the lingering disappointment as Cub, entirely unconcerned, waved goodbye, beginning his walk in the other direction.
But just as Scar turned around, “Wait!” and just like that, he had never stopped so quickly, spinning right back around to face Cub, who had also stopped. “Sorry, I just forgot, I wanted to get a picture-”
“A picture!” Scar cut him off accidentally, excitement taking over, “Why of course! I’d love to!” Scar trotted over, and Cub looked a bit put off, but no matter! Scar was great at taking pictures. Maybe once he managed to get Cub’s number, Cub could send it to him!
Cub shifted his weight, clearly a bit nervous, but that was nothing new. Honestly, it felt incredibly normal, a welcome feeling, and Scar felt right at home bending to Cub’s level as the other fumbled with his phone, flashing a practiced grin. Cub did not smile in the picture, looking nothing less than bored- utterly bizarre, but to each their own! With any luck, they’d get to take many more pictures.
“Thanks,” Cub mumbled, somewhat sheepish, “This is like the third time I’ve met you, and my roommate still doesn’t believe me. Didn’t take my word for it the first time, didn’t believe the picture I took the second time, but now that I’m in this one, he’ll have no choice but admit it.” Cub ended the sentiment sounding deeply pleased with himself, and that.. well. That made a little more sense. That was fine though, Scar wasn’t deeply wounded or anything that Cub didn’t actually want a picture with him just to have it. All good. Normal feelings.
“Well, if they don’t believe you, I’ll march right over there and tell them myself,” Scar joked, somewhat halfheartedly, but Cub didn’t seem to notice.
“Thanks. I’ll tell him that. Bye, HotGuy.” Cub waved, then kept walking, a look on his face that Scar hoped was contentment. Preferably, it’d be something like awe, admiration, or some amount of being utterly starstruck, but contentment would have to do. Hopefully next time, Cub would at least recognize him.
Part (all) of Scar hoped he and Cub would look back at the same time, catching each other’s eye in a moment of romantic tension, but after looking back several times, Scar was pretty sure Cub was just not looking in the first place, and then certain when he started to walk backwards to make sure. Cub didn’t turn around once.
That was fine. That was okay. Scar would win him over eventually- no- tomorrow. Tomorrow at noon, Scar would win him over. Cool! Great! Everything was cool and great. Up until, still walking backwards, he ran into someone else, a clawed hand wrapping firmly around his neck.
“It’s rude to leave a guy hanging, HotGuy, did you know? Or do you just not care. You don’t have to answer, I already know.”
“CuteGuy!” Scar half laughed, forcing as much energy into his tone as he could possibly manage, “It’s getting late, you know. I’m tired, aren’t you tired? You know, we’ve already fought tonight, and you bested me fair and square, so how about I give you a deal?”
CuteGuy’s talons tightened around Scar’s neck, the villain clicking his tongue, “I’ll humor you.”
“You won, you won, definitely not unfairly by ambushing me for zero reason, and I respect you CuteGuy, I respect you. So here’s the deal. You beat me, so tonight and tonight only, you do whatever you want, beat the piss out of whoever for whatever petty slight they committed against you like twenty years ago, and I’ll turn the other way. Won’t give you a single bit of grief! Like it never happened. A generous offer, CuteGuy, one I don’t extend to just anyone. An offer you can’t refuse, truly.”
CuteGuy hummed, and Scar felt his breath close to his ear. It took everything in him not to scoff, but CuteGuy didn’t keep him waiting long for an answer.
“You’re right. That is an offer I can’t refuse. You have a deal, HotGuy. You have a deal.”
“Great! So let's put the claws away then, shall we?”
“Mhm!” CuteGuy released his hold on Scar’s neck, and Scar rubbed it with his own hand, sighing at the pinpricks of blood. That grip would probably leave a mark tomorrow. Well, nothing a little makeup couldn't fix. But something clicked at his back, and Scar felt the absence of his bow right before he was kicked to the ground, yelping as he fell hard to his knees.
“What-”
“Take a guess which idiot I have a vendetta against tonight, HotGuy?” CuteGuy played with Scar’s bow for a moment before tossing it carelessly in the other direction, and Scar was beginning to get a pretty good idea of exactly who CuteGuy was angry with.
…
“Look. See? It’s me and him, super close to our apartment.” Cub held up his phone so Grian could see it, the other taking it from Cub’s hands and examining the picture with so much scrutiny, he almost looked like he was glaring. Something sly crept up Grian’s face after a moment, and he pointed decisively at the photo, tapping the screen with a talon.
“Photoshopped.”
“What?”
“As much as you claim not to care about heroes and villains, you sure do seem awfully insistent on convincing me you’ve met HotGuy. What is this, three times now? Come on, Cub. This is getting sad.” Grian cackled as Cub gaped, giving his roommate a hard shove before snatching his phone back.
“I can’t believe you.”
“I can’t believe you! Especially when you’re this desperate!”
“I am not desperate. You’re either insane, or fucking with me. At this point, I’m pretty sure you’re fucking with me.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve got some secret obsession with HotGuy. What gives? I thought we agreed we hated that guy; total arrogant piece of shit if you ask me. Complete idiot.”
“He’s not that bad.”
“Cub! I can’t believe you!” Grian crossed his arms, turning away with a huff, but Cub only laughed, tucking his phone back in his pocket.
“Hey, you can be nice and an idiot. Listen, I understand you’re jealous and all, but rest assured, he told me if you didn’t believe me this time, he’d march right up here and tell you himself. You’ll get all the HotGuy you’ve been missing out on.”
“I am going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Have fun pretending, then. I’ll see him at work today, so I’ll make sure to let him know you’re just dying to see him.”
“You- you’re what?”
“Yup. He broke his visor, or CuteGuy did at least. Told him I’d get him a new one if he put in a good word with my manager. You know she loves that guy.”
“I-You-” Cub wasn’t exactly sure what the expressions flashing across Grian’s face meant, but he managed to stop spluttering for long enough to say, “You are not allowed to make friends with HotGuy.”
“Uh, sure, I don’t think it’ll be hard. Don’t think he’s short on friends.”
Again, an odd expression crossed Grian’s face, but Cub dismissed it as one of Grian’s Moments; which is to say, exactly what he was in therapy for. To get a handle on the anger, reduce the frequency of flare ups at odd times, all that jazz. For now, best to change the subject.
“See any cool stars while you were out last night? It was pretty cloudy, so I didn’t really get much on the walk home.”
“Oh, right,” Grian relaxed, looking momentarily embarrassed, but the rest of their conversation was pleasant, Cub smoothing out the feathers on Grian’s wings so he wouldn’t have to do it himself. Lots of things tended to set him off, and embarrassment about getting worked up was a big contributor. Best to let him know he didn't have anything to feel bad about, not around Cub.
me, having finished a game where the cia takes in a soviet operative and implants fake memories with code words to get them more info on possible soviet actions: * long staring at tws *
Not to be a conspiracy theorist on main but has no one else noticed how quiet media on the Hong Kong protest has gotten since the outbreak of corona virus?
