May i request Guy/reader where they're both equally awful with emotions? And maybe something serious happens that forces Guy to admit the feelings he has
Ah, this is actually quite close to a confession event that I thought of a while ago with Guy and my OC! Might as well basically write it lol.
(Also sorry for the sudden absence. I'm currently dealing with some family issues as well as illness. Hopefully I can be more consistent soon.)
18+ ONLY!!!, transmasc!reader, reader is unnamed and technically not my oc but is basically written the same, reader has ice powers, foul language and confrontation leading into confessions, some descriptions of their battle injuries, brief mention of injections, this got way out of hand because I love writing Guy so much.
It really, truly wasn't supposed to go this horribly.
The Justice League had called you in for a particularly serious mission, one that required all hands on deck. They only did this when necessary. Knowing you, they wanted to respect your preference for working alone. This time was a special case.
Some aliens got a little lost on the way to their home planet, ended up on Earth, and started opening up inter-dimensional portals out of a fear response. This, of course, is a giant hazard on so many levels.
So, Superman came flying as fast as he could to bring you to the area of conflict. On the way, he explained Batman's plan for the situation. You were supposed to use your ice powers to freeze up the aliens and stop them from making more portals, while Guy and a few others could work on shutting the portals that were already opened. All things considered, it went pretty well at first.
Then, one of the bulkier aliens took offense to your attempts at freezing them. You didn't really remember what happened after they roared an otherworldly warbling sound and you felt a sharp pain hit the back of your head. After coming to consciousness in a sharply sterile and noisy med-bay room, the results of the mission were debriefed to you.
Other than your injuries as well as a handful of others in the Justice League, no major damage was done. The aliens just seemed confused, and reacted out of fear. Their portals were closed, and the flight-using heroes helped set them back on course by, apparently, launching them out of Earth's atmosphere.
So, assumingly, a job well done. Maybe.
You came out with some pretty nasty bruising from falling over, and one hell of a headache. But no brain damage, thankfully. You'd be able to go home within a day or so, after some precautionary observation. The time to rest might have done you some good.
If not for your... concerned visitor.
Not even an hour after being cleared by the doctors for an observation stay, the mechanical door to your room opened without the usual courtesy knock.
And in the doorway stood, quite possibly, the worst candidate for a friendly hospital visitor: Guy Gardner.
His eyebrows were already furrowed as he looked you up and down, taking in the state of you. Hospital gown, a couple blankets around yourself, bandage on your head, remote in hand for your peaceful channel-surfing. He looked genuinely offended.
"What the fuck, snowball?!" His usually teasing nickname now had an extra bite to it. Guy entered the room and pushed a button to close the mechanical door behind him, never taking his sharpened eyes off you.
Getting a good look at him, he looked to somehow be in worse shape than you. Scrapes and bruises on his face, left arm in a sling, and the beginnings of an impressive black eye. Your face showed him an even mixture of concern and confusion at just who he thought he was talking to.
"I'm sorry? What's your problem this time, Gardner?" You shut off the television, choosing to stay seated in your comfy little blanket nest.
Guy scoffed. "MY problem? That's just fucking-" he cut himself off with a heavy sigh, pacing around the room and making a considerable attempt to compose himself. For his standards, anyways. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and muttered under his breath.
You hadn't ever really seen him like this before. When he got worked up, it was usually a nonstop outburst of petty insults before he inevitably walked away or started a fight. This was different... less led by anger. It was still there, but there was something else there.
"Are you... are you alright? How badly did you get hurt?" You shifted closer to the edge of your cot, growing more worried when he turned to look at you again.
"No, no, do NOT do that. I'm fucking fine, my head's fine, I'm in my right mind." So defensive, like always.
"Hey, I didn't mean it like that! You're the one who barged in here and started yelling at me for nothing, asshole," you retorted, wincing when your own volume made your head throb harder.
When you reached up to try and rub the pain away, Guy's demeanor shifted. The fire began to snuff itself out, and his anger softened. "You wanna, uh... tell me what the doctors said? About you?"
The inquiry about your wellbeing was almost sweet. Or maybe that was just you feeding your own delusions. Hard to tell. "I don't know, Guy, do I?"
"Please." The word came out strangled, against his own will. He clenched his jaw, looking for any sign on you or on the monitors next to you that there was serious damage.
You stared for a long moment. That hidden emotion of his was announcing itself now.
"They... told me there wasn't any brain trauma. Not even a fracture or anything. I was apparently pretty lucky getting my head hit that hard and not paying for it."
He sighed, still not fully convinced. "There was, uh, blood. When you got hit by that freaky thing, some blood was comin' from the back of your head. That wasn't serious??"
You gestured to the bandage on your head. "Just some scrapes on my scalp. Surface damage. Nothing serious." Guy had to have been nearby, then, when you went down. Had to have seen it happen.
Yikes, he really was worried.
He sighed again, deeper this time, and sank into one of the shitty chairs next to your cot. His head fell into his one free hand. "Alright. Good. Good. That's... awesome."
"You're not really acting like it's awesome." You realized your choice in words was a mistake when he met your eyes again with a bit more of that fire from earlier.
"Fuck's that supposed to mean? Do you think I wanted your head to split open or somethin'?" He wasn't as loud now, seemingly mindful of your current noise sensitivity.
"No! No. You're just... I don't know, you're acting off. I don't know how to read you when I've never seen you like this."
"Like what, snowball? Stressed the fuck out and worried sick?" He scooted the chair a little closer and began pointing at you. His voice never raised again, though. "When you went down, I was right there watchin' your back. Apparently not fuckin' good enough since one of the slimy bastards got to you, but I digress-"
Turning his finger's attention from you to his own blackened eye, he never faltered. "I got slapped and bruised by all sorts of freaky alien appendages from just tryin' to protect your ass. I got down there and assessed you first, myself. I saw blood, couldn't get you to wake up. You scared the shit out of me, man. I thought..." he sighed once again, more somber this time, "I dunno what I thought. Nothin' good."
You were taken aback, to say the least. This much vulnerability from him felt like witnessing a unicorn cry rainbow tears. He wasn't so much pointing his anger at you as he was towards himself, in his own way.
"I... appreciate that you were so worried about me, and that you helped me on the field. I'm just... still confused here. Are you mad at me for this?"
Guy laughed, weary and emotionally worn out.
"Yes? No? I don't know. I'm mad at that thing for almost scramblin' your egg, I'm mad at you for lettin' me think you were dead for a hot minute, I'm mad at myself for... not bein' there in time." He leaned back in the chair, letting his head fall back.
You pulled the blankets tighter around yourself. "You can't blame yourself for that. I didn't see it coming, and neither did you. Nothing that could've been done."
"And by a stroke of fuckin' luck, you made it out with barely a scratch."
"Yeah, a stroke of luck. Meaning it was nobody's fault."
Guy leaned forward and locked eyes with you again. "And if that luck didn't strike? I dunno if I'd be able to tell myself in confidence that it wasn't my fault you got offed on my watch."
You grimaced at the thought. "You don't need to go there. I'm fine."
"Clearly I do need to go there. This whole time we've been workin' together on missions every now and then, yankin' each other's chains, arguin' over the dumbest shit possible. But y'know what? You're the one person here that gives me a fair shot at bein' halfway decent sometimes, and not just the asshole they write me off as. We've said some vile, fucked up shit to each other, but we've had real conversations, too. About things that matter. I was afraid for a minute I'd lose the only person who would ever do that for me." By the end of his confession, he looked almost like he could cry. He didn't, but the intensity of his emotions was palpable.
You didnt know what to do with your body, really. You settled on readjusting and letting your legs fall over the edge of the cot, closer to him now. "I... I'm sorry, Guy. I didn't, uh... realize I meant that much to you."
He scoffed. "Probably my own fault for not makin' it clearer." His poor, battle-beaten face held the look of a man worn out beyond anything you'd ever seen on him. Even under the bruises, lacerations, and exhaustion, he was still so handsome. The care he was showing helped make it even clearer.
God, how long had you been so fucked?
It was no secret that your banter with Guy both in the Hall of Justice and on the field often bordered on flirting, when it wasn't the two of you arguing. For whatever reason, it's all remained an unspoken truth. A game to be played at a safe distance.
Looking at the barely-there space between Guy's legs and your own, suddenly it felt like that distance was closing.
You took in a steeling breath. "Well, now's your chance. Make it clear for me."
You'd never seen him switch so quickly between expressions before. Shock, confusion, restraint, determination, fear. Guy cleared his throat.
"Uh... what?" It came out more as a croak than actual words. He'd need a little more of a push.
"We're both shitty about communicating our feelings. We've been cowards, beating around the bush. Say what you're thinking, Guy." Your head was still pounding, now accompanied by the quickening percussion of your heartbeat, but you were steadfast and unwilling to let him weasel out of this.
He sighed, tapping the floor with the heel of his boot. "You piss me off like nobody else can. And then you go off on me when I act like a prick. You never let me get the last word. It's always somethin' more with you. And then you talk it out with me and... I dunno, make me actually WANT to do better. Be better."
A tightening, nervous feeling overcame your throat.
"So, yeah, I think if I'd lost all that to an alien's weird tentacle thingy, I'd have been reasonably upset." He leaned back in the chair, faux-crossing his good arm over the one in a sling. With the speed he redirected himself, it was clear he was avoiding going even deeper. Asshole. Always trying to look nonchalant. "Your turn."
Taking in a deep, steeling breath that made your lungs sore, you took the plunge. Fuck it.
"I love you, Guy." Hardest thing out of the way first. Now it's only easier from here, right?
Your stomach lurched with anxiety, and the look on Guy's face in response only made it worse. He froze in place, wide-eyed, red-faced, his boot tapping a little faster now.
"I... I'm really grateful that you care so much about me. And I'm grateful to have the relationship with you that I do. Even though we get under each other's skin, and we fight, and we go through what feels like a constant cycle of liking and hating each other. I've gotten way too used to you being in my life." You couldn't look at him anymore, fixated on your own hands wringing themselves together.
You let your words linger for a long moment. That moment stretched on, and the perpetual silence from Guy ate away at you.
Sighing, you began wringing the blanket covering you in your hands, needing something to occupy them. "It's okay if you don't feel the same. I don't even know if you would-"
"Hold it. I don't even wanna know what you're worried about, there, Snowball." Guy leaned forward again. You still didn't look at him. You couldn't. "I just laid out more of my feelings than I have for pretty much anyone else. You think I don't feel the same after all this?"
It was almost comical, the way his words released such a wave of euphoria in you. You knew. You both did. It was just a matter of allowing yourselves to have something like this.
You finally met his eyes, tears welling up in your own. "I just... didn't know if I was an option. Both because I'm a man, and a trans one, at that."
Guy knew, you'd told him a while ago. He wasn't the most well-versed in terminology, and definitely had some misconceptions, but he learned from you. He never faltered in how he treated you, never changed anything. The only time he shut down conversations was when you talked about injections. (Big wimp couldn't even handle THINKING about needles.)
"That doesn't matter to me. Not like, in a way that it doesn't matter, but... it doesn't put me off, you know? I care about you, not the technicalities of what you are, or what you were." His one free hand blanketed over both yours, a gentle and reassuring weight. "If you want this, so do I. Alright?"
You could cry. You really could. He was being so sweet, especially for him. The thought that this whole conversation is a result of your mutual emotional growth together made your heart swell. "Alright." You nodded, a sappy smile making its way onto your face.
And Guy smiled right back, his more brash and full of ego. Seems the returned feelings are giving him a confidence high.
"Would you, uhm-" you started, clearing your throat and finding your bearings again. "would you hug me?" Such a silly thing to ask for, right after a confession of love.
Guy snorted out a laugh, then nodded. "'Course, Snowball." Standing from the creaking metal chair, he sat down on the cot next to you. His taller frame was much more obvious on equal height-ground. Using his good arm, he pulled you in for what felt like the warmest hug you'd ever received.
You wrapped your arms around his stocky torso and breathed in. He smelt of warm spices, musk, and hospital disinfectant. His back was sturdy, and you could feel the outlines of his muscles even through his Green Lantern suit. His own hand wandered your back as well, rubbing up and down slowly. God, you could die happy like this.
"If you, uh, wanna go back to restin' at any point, just let me know," he said, still so much more worried about you than himself.
You buried your face deep into where his neck meets his shoulder. "I want you to stay."
He shivered, and he stayed.
