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A violent chill swept over Grian’s skin, accompanied with the cold bite of the night air, leaving him shivering in discomfort atop the tall building he was squatting on the edge of. It was times like these he wished he had incorporated a jacket or even pants into his outfit, the skin tight top and frilly pink shorts doing nothing to block the frigid air.
Another sneeze slipped from his nose, leaving him groaning in discomfort. He was sick. That was becoming abundantly clear to him, and no doubt being out here dressed like this was making it worse. He’d been running himself ragged these past few weeks, with exams upcoming, he was working overtime to ensure his students felt as prepared as possible, whilst finishing off grading for their projects and assignments.
On top of his busy work life, he went out pretty much every night, adorning his vigilante getup, scouring the streets on silent wings to patrol the city from anything out to harm the people living inside it. As well as dancing around the clingy superhero, Hotguy, who seemed to always appear by his side whenever he was out and about.
So, yeah, he wound up sick. Not that that would stop him from continuing his unhealthy schedule. He just had to make it through this semester, and then he would have time to actually rest.
Rocking back and forth on his heels, he wiped a hand over his nose, his nose crinkling in disgust as he felt another sneeze build up, chills crawling up his body and leaving goosebumps dotting his skin. Huge wings fluffed up against his back, lightly curling around his arms in an attempt to preserve some warmth, the small wings settled in his hair tightening over his cheeks. This sucked.
His eyes roamed the dark street below, the sun having dipped beneath the horizon to welcome the moon a couple hours ago, joining him on his nightly patrol. He then paused on a figure standing unnaturally still by a storefront window, the lights inside reflecting off their inhumanly dark skin and tall, lanky stature.
An Enderman.
Grian cringed to himself, mentally preparing for the headache of dealing with the lone mob. Endermen were notorious for being quick and unyielding, their huge purple fangs and horrific screams enough to keep anyone awake at night.
The creature continued to stare mindlessly into the store, likely stopping the owner inside from actually closing up shop, most of the other stores around the area preparing to close in for the night, or having been already shut. Rising to his feet, he wobbled unsteadily but quickly gathered himself, brows scrunching up in thought on how he’d deal with this in the least annoying way possible.
However, before he could contemplate any further, an ear splitting screech left the Endermens mouth, purple eyes going wide with a bright glow as spit flew from its mouth, clawed hands grasping the window and scratching in an attempt to get inside.
Ah. Whoever was inside must have looked at it.
New plan!
Grian abruptly leapt off the building, body nosediving towards the ground with wings tucked close to his body before he snapped them out, careening quickly towards the Enderman with pinpoint accuracy, the wind whistling through his feathers as he neared. He tilted his body, leaning into a kick that would no doubt knock the Enderman out before it could even register what had happened, when it abruptly turned around, bright eyes landing on him. With no time to move out of the way, or readjust his position, it raised a clawed hand and struck him in the side, sending him flying across the street with a cry.
He landed harshly on the ground, feathered wings cushioning his fall as he rolled a few times before smacking against a bricked wall, hands moving to hold his side with a heavy wince of pain. He pulled his hand back, relieved to find the enderman hadn’t cut into his skin, but a deadly bruise was no doubt going to form there.
It must have seen him coming from within the reflection of the window. “Damn enderman… Couldn’t you have just teleported away instead?” He seethed. Not that smashing through a window would’ve been much better. A faint sliver of fear then trickled down his spine when he noted it was nowhere to be seen, the shop window devoid of life except for the owner staring terrified through the glass. He gave them a swift thumbs up, followed by a sneeze.
Gathering himself shakily to his feet, hand grasping his side, he peered around the now quiet street, eyes narrowed.
Vwoop!
He turned just in time, his free hand reaching into his belt to retrieve a pink gun, firing it behind him just as the enderman reached for him with its jaw unhinged, teeth glinting against the moonlight. The bullet scraped against its head and a split second later it teleported, moving to his left where it slashed at him but instead met a bullet through its palm. With a screech of agony, it disappeared again in a sheen of purple particles, Grian looking all around him to see where it would pop up.
He was panting now, exhaustion weighing him down, his body begging to collapse into his warm bed and sleep for days on end. It left him sluggish, in turn affecting his reaction time. So when the enderman flickered into his view, its lanky body careening towards him with a jaw that shouldn’t even be able to open that wide, he wasn’t quick enough to shoot or even move out of the way. That was, until an orange arrow slipped through the air silently, like it had just appeared out of nowhere, lodging itself directly into the side of the endermans head with a sickening squelch.
Its body stopped, twitching like it still wanted to reach for Grian but couldn’t, before its limbs fell limp and its body collapsed to the floor in a bundled heap, the glowing eyes flickering before fading.
He stumbled back a few steps, a breath escaping him as his back hit the wall behind him, stopping him from just falling into a muddled heap. God, he was tired.
“Cuteguy!” That voice only added to his growing exhaustion.
Glowing orange and blue filled his vision, concerned eyes leaning down to meet his, “Cuteguy, are you alright?” Even a few feet apart, Grian could feel the warmth radiating off the hero, the vigilante's body craving the heat that was trying so desperately to wrap itself around his shivering frame.
“Yeah.” He said after a bit, steadily forcing himself to his feet. Sick or not, he wasn’t going to look weak in front of Hotguy of all people. “Just got caught off guard.”
Hotguy frowned, staring silently at him for an uncomfortable amount of time. “You’re normally faster than that.”
It was Grians turn to frown, purple eyes narrowing at the obnoxious hero as he crossed his arms over his chest. He opened his mouth to bark something snarky in response, when a sharp inhale left the hero's mouth, moving towards Grian but pausing, like he was afraid to get too close to him. “You’re hurt.”
Grian looked down, noting his damaged uniform that showed the blossoming bruise. “Oh. Yeah.”
“ Oh? Cuteguy you’re-” the man exhaled through his nose, finally closing the gap between them to look at the wound, “you rarely get hit. Not that hard, at least.”
Taking a step back from the concerned hero, Grian held a hand over the wound, moving Hotguys eyes back to his, “did you just come here to gloat or something? You killed it, I got beat up, whatever.”
“No, no!” Hotguy held up his hands, hurriedly shaking his head in alarm, “that’s not what-” his hands met each other, rubbing against his palms as he kept looking at Grian with that stupid expression on his face.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine, I can deal with a little bruise-”
“No, I mean…” He kept staring at him, like if he looked hard enough, all of Grian’s problems would spill out of him and present themselves for Hotguy to pick apart.
And then Grian sneezed.
Hotguy seemed a little taken aback, before his brows furrowed. “You’re sick.”
“...No.”
“And you’re out here in this weather? Wearing that? ”
“Hey, don’t bring my outfit into this!”
Hotguy huffed in disbelief, crossing his arms to match Grian’s indignant pose, “you shouldn’t be out here, it’s winter, and freezing.”
“Says the guy running around in a crop top and booty shorts!”
“I’m not sick, though!”
It was Grian’s turn to huff, stubbornly turning his head away from the hero, the small wings on his head blocking him from view. There was an uncomfortable silence that followed, Grian hoping Hotguy would take that as his cue to leave, but of course the hero wouldn’t give in so easily.
“You know, there's this great burger place just down the road from here.” Hotguy began, making Grian turn to look at him with an incredulous expression. “Huh?”
“And, It’s open all night! It’s a great place to take a short snack break from patrolling. Better yet, it heals all sicknesses.”
Turning to face him, he let his guarded expression morph into confusion, raising a brow. “Heals all sicknesses? Burgers?” Hotguy nodded with an enthused smile. “Yup!”
Grian released a bemused breath, his lips twitching up faintly at the corners. “That’s dumb.”
“I’ll pay,” Hotguy continued, his tone going soft as he regarded the vigilante with a look akin to fondness, “if you’ll let me?”
Caving, he rolled his eyes as another sneeze escaped his nose. “I suppose even I can’t ignore the offer of free food.” If he was being honest, a burger sounded amazing right now. His food intake the past few nights had consisted of cheap microwave meals, as he hadn’t had the time to cook himself a proper dinner.
The grin that lit up Hotguys face was almost blinding, and he felt himself internally groan at his outwardly bubbly attitude. These better be some damn good burgers.
Leading Grian away from the scene, the pair made their way towards the burger place Hotguy was rambling animatedly about, hands gesturing excitedly through the air. He kept glancing back at Grian with a barely hidden face of concern, moving to reach out and steady him the few times he stumbled but thinking better of it.
Soon, the pair slipped through a door just around the corner of the street, a small bell dinging delightedly above them to announce their entrance. Warmth instantly filled Grian’s bones, an involuntary shudder shaking his frame as the door closed shut behind them with a whoosh of cold air. The place was small, dark green walls enclosing the space in a comforting ambience of plant filled corners and sleek wooden furniture, inviting Grian to relax. Hotguy must have frequented the cozy burger place often, as the owner of the store greeted him with a warm smile as they entered the room.
“Hotguy! It’s good to see you again, I take it you’re here for the usual?” It was an older gentleman, his face weathered with age that left a welcoming crinkle in his eyes, his apron a light pink adorned with a cute pattern of various plants.
Hotguy nodded with a bright grin of his own, taking a seat by one of the tables sat by the door, which Grian appreciated. There was a moment of hesitation, Grian glancing at the door like he would leave, but he eventually decided to sit down across from the hero. He didn’t miss the joyful look he was sent.
Stopping by their table, the owner glanced at Grian. He expected the usual frown, or look of fear, but was instead met with a welcoming smile that left dimples etched into the man’s skin.
“I see Hotguy’s brought a friend! Good thing, to. I was beginning to think he didn’t have any.” Grian let out a choked off laugh, hand covering his mouth at Hotguy’s incredulous expression. Before either of them could even respond, the man placed a menu in front of Grian, giving him an amused wink before turning to Hotguy, “and I’ll get started on your usual, Hotguy.” With another grin his way, the man left.
Hiding the laugh bubbling in his throat behind an amused grin, Grian picked up the menu, eyes browsing over the variety of burgers available for purchase across the small laminated paper.
“So…” Hotguy began, grabbing his attention. He was looking at him expectantly, “what do you think?”
Grian glanced briefly at the menu, then back at the hero. “Of the menu?”
“No- not the menu. Of this place! Do you like it?”
Considering the question, Grian glanced around the space, thankful that they were the only two occupying the small joint. By the weathered appearance of the tables, and the scuff marks across the wooden floors, he could tell this place was old and well loved. He noted a patch of green on the wall that was a different shade, likely from an accident that they tried painting over unsuccessfully. There were framed pictures lining parts of the wall, from photos of the place when it first opened to images of the owner with people who he could only assume were loved ones.
It was small, but it was comfortable and full of life.
“It’s nice.” He responded finally, looking back down at his menu so he didn’t have to meet Hotguys joyous expression. Really, he wondered how the hero's cheeks weren’t broken from how much he smiled like that.
After a short while of browsing the menu in silence, the owner returned, that same welcoming smile adorning his face. “Alright! Have you settled on something you’d like?” He asked kindly, giving Grian his full attention. He hummed briefly before deciding on a simple cheese, lettuce and bacon burger with a generous drizzle of mayonnaise. Scribbling the order down on his notepad, he took the menu off Grian, giving him another gentle smile before leaving the pair alone.
Grian expected Hotguy to start immediately talking his ear off, but was instead met with a blissful silence. It was almost… nice, at first, until the hero started bouncing his leg noisily underneath the table, nails tapping against the wooden surface as he twitched restlessly in his seat.
“What?” Grian finally snapped, pulling the heroes attention towards him. “Huh?” Hotguy responded intelligently, hands going still.
“You’re twitching like a damn rabbit. Stop it.”
“Oh. Sorry. My bad. Will do. Won’t do- I’ll stop!”
Grian rolled his eyes, eyebrows scrunching at the headache that was beginning to build, pressing an uncomfortable pressure against his temple. He let out a shudder, still cold despite the heat blasting through the burger place, hands reaching up to rub over the goosebumps dotting his skin.
“You’re still cold.” Hotguy stated, voice low with concern. Looking back up at him, Grian raised a brow, “no, I just decided to rub my arms because I’m overheating.”
“Oh. I see?”
“I’m being sarcastic.”
Hotguy blinked owlishly at him, before he began to promptly shove off the jacket that had been settled around his shoulders, handing it over the table to Grian. “Here- It might be a bit big, but It’ll keep you warm.”
The hero didn’t push as Grian hesitated, instead waiting patiently with his hands outstretched, the orange and blue jacket crumpled neatly in his grasp. Deciding his own pride wasn’t worth the deep feeling of cold wracking his frame, he hesitantly took the jacket from his hold, hands brushing against his as he sat back in his seat. And he was right, the jacket was large on him, the sleeves pooling past his wrists to hang limply by his sides. Bunching the material around his hand, the effect of the jacket was almost immediate, warmth finally chasing away the bite of cold that had been brushing over his bare arms.
“Thanks.” He said after a bit, earning a gentle smile from the hero. “A bit pretentious, having a jacket themed after yourself.” He then added. The jacket was mostly black, with lines of orange and blue on either side to decorate the sleeves. Hotguy’s iconic arrow shaped logo was curved across the front, matching the heroes uniform.
“Well, it wasn’t my idea, really…” He responded shyly, “but it’s a new line of Hotguy merch we’re releasing! In fact, the one you’re wearing right now is the only one to exist!” Grian looked back down at the material, hands tracing over the patterns etched neatly into the fabric, “I see.”
Seemingly feeling confident enough to further drive the conversation between the pair, Hotguy asked, “so why were you out and about, anyways?”
Cuteguy gave him a raised brow, challenging him to breach the near comfortable small talk they had settled into but the man only stared expectantly at him.
“I was doing my daily patrol?” He responded as if it were obvious, but he knows that's not what Hotguy was asking. He knew it as well, as he softly rolled his eyes at the vigilante which earned him a scowl. “Well, yeah , obviously, but… you know I’m out almost every night, I wouldn’t let anything happen to this city in your absence.”
Resting his head on his hand, he gave Hotguy a dissatisfied scowl, “so you’re saying I’m not needed?” Hotguy sat up straight, waving his arms around in a panic, “no! Not at all! The things you do out there on the streets for the city… Well, let's just say, you make this place safer to be in.” There was a moment of silence. “Buuuut… You’re allowed to take breaks, you know.”
Ignoring Hotguy’s earlier admission, he gave him a petulant frown, “do you take breaks when you’re sick?”
“Well. Only if I’m super unwell-”
“Would you say I’m super unwell right now?” As if to throw a wrench in his carefully built argument, a sneeze climbed up his throat, leaving him blinking groggily.
There was a bout of silence, Grian expecting Hotguy to call him out on his bluff but he instead muttered amusedly, “your wings puff up everytime you sneeze.”
Grian gave him a cold look that had Hotguy putting his hands up placatingly, “It’s adorable, I’m sorry!” His apology was followed by a low chuckle, making the frown on Grian’s face go deeper.
Giving his wings a betrayed side eye, Hotguy opened his mouth to say something else, when the owner returned to their table with two plates in hand, one being Grian’s burger with a small side of chips stacked against the side of the burger, the other a… what on earth was that?
Placing the plates down in front of them, the man asked politely, “was there anything else you two wanted tonight?” The pair shook their heads, and the man bidded them farewell before disappearing back into the restaurant.
“Hotguy.” Grian began, pointing an accusing finger at the hero's burger. “What on earth is that?”
He glanced down at his meal. Then back at Grian. “A burger?”
It was obnoxiously huge. Yet despite that fact, it seemed to fit his quota. He couldn’t even count how many burger patties were stuffed between the two plump rolls, waves of greens stacked between the meat with sauce practically oozing out of it all. If anything, it was an abomination.
“Right. I hope you’re paying extra for it, poor guy is probably exhausted from making that.” Grian quipped, picking up his own burger to take a bite out of. And oh, it was tasty. Grian wouldn’t peg himself as much of a burger fan, but the one settled between his gloved fingers was doing wonders for his taste buds. The meat was juicy and thick with flavour, crunchy lettuce that was fresh on his tongue mixing perfectly with the generous offering of sauce drizzled along the burger. He’d have to order from here again, he thought
“Of course I give him a hefty tip each time!” Hotguy responded, picking up his behemoth of a burger and taking a huge bite out of the side, red sauce dribbling down his chin. Gross. “So- what do you think?” He asked through a mouthful of food, “good, right?”
“Mmm…” Grian hummed, taking another bite as if considering the question. “It’s good.” Hotguys face lit up, “but it’s not healing my sickness.” His face swiftly fell with a sheepish look, “well, that part may have been a lie.”
Trying some of the chips stacked haphazardly by the edge of his plate, Hotguy decided to pick up their conversation where they had left it. “So what got you sick, anyways?”
Grian sighed lowly at him, the heroes incessant questioning disturbing the peace. Answering half honestly he responded, “the cold, I guess. I’m susceptible to it.” He ignored Hotguy’s raised brow at his outfit, to which he helpfully did not comment on this time.
“Well, maybe you could start patrolling more during the day, when it’s not freezing out!” Hotguy supplied helpfully, but Grian shrugged, “nope, can’t. Busy.” Hotguy pouted.
The pair continued to chatter mindlessly, finally moving on from the conversation of Grian’s condition, to talk more about the burgers, to then discussing the mob they had encountered. “Oh, they really are the worst, aren’t they? I thought creepers were my least favourite, but endermen are just so…” Hotguy visibly shuddered, face twisting into a grimace. Grian nodded his head along, finding that he easily agreed with the hero. “Hard to fight something that can teleport.”
Their plates had been scraped clean of food and put to the side in a neat stack. Grian’s stomach felt comfortably full, his body finally warm and relaxed from the earlier fight. Sure, his side still hurt like hell, a bruise forming in a variety of ugly browns and yellows against his pale skin, but that could be dealt with later. Whilst he would never outwardly admit it, he was glad that Hotguy had showed up when he did, even if he annoyed the hell out of him.
“Well,” he began, shifting in his seat with a wince as he moved to get up, “this has been nice and all, but I should get going.” He pretended to miss the glint of disappointment in Hotguy’s eyes, not ready to unpack the emotions no doubt swirling there as he shimmied himself out of his seat. “You’re not going back on patrol, are you?” Hotguy questioned tentatively.
Grian huffed, gently pushing his chair back under the table as he held a hand against his side. “No. Don’t think I’ll be much use after all.” In reality, Grian had been planning to continue his patrol, but with Hotguy out and about, he’d no doubt be unable to hide from him. It’d turn into a game of hide and seek that Grian was not willing to play.
A relieved smile lit up Hotguy’s face as he stood up from his own seat, “good. That’s good.”
There was a brief moment of silence, like Hotguy wasn’t sure what to say next, when he took a few shuffling steps backwards, “I’ll just uh- go and pay. For our food.”
He turned, moving towards the counter with a smile towards the owner, leaving Grian waiting by the door. He watched him for a few moments, as he spoke animatedly with the old gentleman, exclaiming with grandiose gestures about how good the food was. After handing over a slab of cash towards the man, he finally bid him farewell and returned to where Grian was waiting, opening the door for him to walk through.
As the pair left, he was suddenly grateful for the jacket wrapped securely around his frame, shielding him from the late night breeze. Preparing for flight, his wings began to unfurl in a rustle of pink and black feathers, eyes moving towards the sky when Hotguy suddenly asked him to wait, stepping in front of him. Grian shot him a look of confusion, head tilted slightly.
“I could walk you home? Instead of flying, I’m sure it’s cold up there.” He nodded towards the cloudy sky. Grian stared at him for a few moments before breathing out an amused breath, “and show you where I live? No thanks, I don’t need the whole police force and hero association knocking on my front door.”
It was Hotguy’s turn to stare at him, a slight pout reaching his lips. “You really think I’d do that? Tell everyone where you live?”
“Would you tell me where you live?” Cuteguy shot back, a bite in his tone that he hadn’t intended. Hotguy opened and closed his mouth a few times, deciding to settle on silence. In a smaller tone he added, “I suppose not.”
There was a moment of tense quiet after that, the burger beginning to sit heavily in his stomach. “I should go.” Grian finally muttered, sparing a glance at the hero. The other was watching him, his expression hidden behind his orange and blue glasses as he regarded him silently. And then like a flip suddenly switched, his smile returned as he planted his hands on his hips. “Alright! I hope you’re feeling better.”
Deciding not to call him out on his strange behaviour, he smiled hesitantly back, “yeah, I think I am.” Opening his wings, he felt the wind brush between his feathers, tugging at them as they begged to be released into the open air of the sky. “Guess I’ll see you around, hero.” With a wink and a soft flick on the hero's nose, he ascended into the sky with a brilliant flap of his wings, his body lifting from the ground in a flurry of feathers, carrying him high into the night sky.
Down below, Hotguy watched, a small smile dancing across his face as he watched Cuteguy’s figure disappear until he was just a dot on the horizon. “See you around, pretty bird.”